#it'd be a waste of time to do anything with her other than throw her on someone as an adujendent for healing)

[noblestofnobles]

Shout out to Hubert who right before the Battle of the Eagle and Lion told Ferdinand that he was going to be absolutely useless and a waste of space on the battlefield.

...

Ferdinand was the MVP.

[s-brant]

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.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

hireath + taako n lup (or really anyone of the starblaster crew) >:3

hiraeth - a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past

--

The wheels of the circus caravan were unsteady and bumpy, at least on their cart. Lup was ninety percent sure they had been given this cart because they had made themselves untrustworthy after being caught stealing from the food supply. When they had first joined up with the circus, she thought it'd be fun, and exciting, unlike the other caravans they had traveled with. If anything, it was even more shitty. It just was work, work, work every day. The clowns were treated better than she and Taako were.

And there was no sleeping in here, not until the cart stopped moving for the night. Taako said he found the movement relaxing, but it just gave her vertigo. She missed sleeping on a comfortable bed and waking up when she wanted to, instead of when the circus master told them to.

She missed Tía, but there wasn't really a point in mourning anymore. They had to get over it.

There was a part of Lup that didn't want to get over it. Tía had been the only person that they could ever trust, besides each other. And then she had to go and die, leaving them alone like everyone else. The grief was bitter and twisted and sometimes she just wanted to throw things and yell and scream. Other times, she wanted to sit in her bed and do nothing all day. She didn't have the choice to do either.

"Taako," she said into the darkness of their cart.

"Huh?" came Taako's definitely not asleep reply.

"I miss Tía's house," she said, instead of saying that she missed Tía most of all. Taako didn't respond, so she went on. "It was always really warm and nice. And I miss her breakfasts and stuff. And the recliner and all the blankets."

"We can get more blankets," Taako said quietly.

"I want Tía's blankets," Lup said, shifting to dangle her arm off the side of the bunk bed. Taako's mattress creaked and a foot kicked at her arm briefly. "And I just... I miss her house. And she shouldn't have left like that."

"We have to get over it," Taako said, a mantra that had been started by Tía when she got sick enough to know she wouldn't recover.

("You just gotta move on. You'll have to get over it."

"I don't want to get over it!"

"I know, chiquito. But the world won't wait for you to feel better again.")

"I know," Lup said, voice watery. She rubbed at her eyes. "I'm so tired."

"We should quit," Taako said. "Just like, pack up all our stuff and get out. Who cares anymore, y'know?"

"We need the money," Lup said, but even she knew it was a weak argument. They were barely paid at all anymore. The circus master had claimed it was because they were running low on funds, but Lup and Taako weren't stupid. They'd done more shows in the past two weeks than ever and there was certainly no decrease in patrons.

"We'll find money," Taako said. His bed squeaked again like he was sitting up in it. "Anyone would be happy to have us!"

"You might get sick again," Lup whispered, but Taako was already getting out of bed, pulling out their suitcase from next to the ladder. He knocked on the bedframe like he was trying to get Lup up.

"We should really go now," Taako said, glancing up at her. He was tense, but she couldn't really blame him. Lup pushed her blanket aside. "We might be able to sneak some food if we're quiet enough."

"They've got like, eight hundred cans of beans," Lup said, slipping down the ladder. "I'm sure they won't notice a few gone."

"Exactly," Taako said. "Can you start getting books and stuff?"

"Yeah," Lup said. After a moment, she added, "thank you."

"The world's not gonna wait for us," Taako said with a shrug. "And I'm deffo not gonna wait 'til this shitshow burns down. Not like you couldn't do that in a minute, no offense."

"Don't wanna waste the spell slots on them," Lup said. "They're not worth it."

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 2 (Rowaelin)

Part 1

~Rowan~

Rowan didn't think he'd ever been so pissed off in his life.

The only time that even came close was when he lost his first and only court case, but over the years he'd come to live with that.

This though?

This immature, childish, irritatingly clever woman... he had a feeling he'd carry the rage he felt against her until the day he finally died of it.

Although, if he was honest, his returning move had been a little childish, too.

He'd ordered one of the guards to strip her cell of everything except the chess set. Her mattress, the makeshift knife he shuddered to think she'd had in the same room as him, her pillow.

If she wanted to steal his shit, he'd steal hers, too.

He'd also had the guard move one of his pawns forward on the board.

Not the most creative, but he didn't have many options.

What did you take from a woman who had nothing? How did you punish someone who was already serving the longest punishment available?

The bank had seized her assets when she'd been locked up, and the lease on her apartment had long since run out. She didn't have any personal items with her, didn't seem to even care about anything besides making his life hell.

Case in point, when he got home that night, exhausted from dealing with Aelin and spending a long day at the office, he'd discovered her retaliation.

She'd stolen his bed.

The whole goddamn thing, frame and all.

How she'd managed to get it out of a penthouse condo with security not realizing a thing, he had no idea. He knew from experience it wouldn't even fit through the door.

It'd seemed if she was going to be uncomfortable, so was he.

Steaming with anger, he'd showered and flopped on the couch like an idiot, not even able to sleep thanks to the rage she'd worked him into.

She was completely kicking his ass. From the inside of a jail cell.

He hadn't gotten more than a few hours of sleep before giving up on even trying. At six, he'd dressed and driven to Whitehorn and Salvaterre, the law firm he was a partner at.

If he couldn't sleep, he'd at least figure out how the hell she was pulling this shit off.

Looking through her folder, he went through her daily schedule, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

Eight am wake-up, breakfast, shower, lunch, yard time, dinner, lights out at nine. Between activities, she worked out in her cell or read a book from the run-down prison library.

In the eight years she'd been in prison, she hadn't had a single visitor. Her cousin Aedion--a playboy Rowan couldn't be paid to associate with--delivered a care package on the first of every month.

Strange, considering nothing of the sort had been in her cell.

She'd been in solitary confinement ever since randomly attacking her cellmate a little over a month ago. She was still allowed yard time and meals with the other prisoners, but she was chained at all times.

Also strange, considering Aelin wasn't the type to do anything randomly.

Rowan watched the security tapes he'd strong armed the guards into giving him, going through the past few days to see how she'd gotten out of her cell to rob him.

He watched as she was escorted to the yard, watched as she ate breakfast and lunch and dinner alone, watched as she put herself through vigorous training in her cell.

Days of footage, and he didn't find anything.

Feeling like a bit of a creep, he watched the nighttime footage of her sleeping, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

She didn't move too much or too little--both of which would indicate it wasn't really her under that thin blanket. There were no attempts to pick the locks in between her wrists and ankles, no digging into the wall behind her toilet.

Nothing.

Which meant someone was helping her.

He could go through the official channels and ask the police for her known connections, but he hadn't reported either of the robberies yet.

Partly because he wanted to deal with her himself, partly because he felt a bit stupid getting robbed from a woman in the most secure prison in the city.

Which means he'd have to go about it a different way.

Grabbing his keys from his desk, he debated how else he could make her miserable, unfortunately finding nothing else he could do to her, no revenge he could get from robbing her tiny little cell.

No, he'd have to try something new.

Maybe he could bribe her into confessing. She didn't have anything right now, but maybe he could give her something to lose.

He'd bring her lunch, force himself to apologize for yelling at her, and just politely ask who her accomplice was.

He thought on it as he rode down the elevator to the garage. It probably wouldn't work, but he didn't know what else to do.

And besides, he knew from experience Aelin didn't respond well to his anger.

Checking his email to make sure he wasn't missing any important meetings, he pressed the button on his car fob, expecting to hear the resounding beep from his designated parking spot.

Except the beep never came.

Slowly looking up, Rowan had to amend his earlier statement.

Now he didn't think he'd ever been so pissed off in his life.

He stormed over to the security booth, hardly refraining from grabbing the man inside and throwing him to the ground.

"Where's my car, Rolland?"

"In your spot, boss," the stout little man replied instantly and surely, snapping his gum and looking at him in confusion. "Haven't seen you drive out yet."

"Yes, exactly. Which is why it's a mystery why it's no longer in it's spot."

Rolland caught up slowly. "You mean... it was stolen? From here? From you?"

Jaw so tight his molars were practically fused together, Rowan growled, "Just let me see the security tapes from this morning."

The guard nodded quickly, eyes nervous as he typed something into the desktop in front of him.

"That's weird," he muttered a moment later, typing faster and sending Rowan a nervous glance.

"What?" he asked, trying to calm himself down with a few of the breathing techniques he'd learned over the years.

"The tapes are gone, but there's... this."

Rolland turned the screen so Rowan could see it, and all the breathing in the world couldn't keep him from slamming a fist into the side of the security shack.

The footage was gone, and on the blank black screen read: Bishop to J7.

He was going to fucking kill her.

~Aelin~

"Enjoy your taxi ride here?" she asked sweetly, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs.

Rowan scowled at her as he crossed the small room inmates could use to talk to their lawyers. He yanked the chair across from her out, then threw himself into it. "You are such a pain in my ass."

She just shrugged.

He sat across from her, angry and broody, and for a long time, he just stared at her.

Finally he asked, "Why are you doing this, Aelin?"

"I told you. You locked me up for something I didn't do. I want you to be as miserable as I am. It's simple, petty revenge."

Nothing about it was simple, but that was besides the point.

He was quiet for another moment. "Why now?"

She sighed, but she wasn't upset. Truthfully, she'd been waiting for him to ask that question.

"I want to tell you a story."

He stood up suddenly, face exasperated. "I'm not fucking joking around. And I'm not going to let you waste any more of my time."

He made his way to the door, and his dismissal of her pissed her off enough to say, "Sit down, or your car's going off Whigsby Bridge."

He smiled like he'd won their little game. "So you admit you have it."

"Sure," she said casually, honestly not giving a shit about the car.

His brow furrowed. "You're giving up? Just like that?"

"You're a fucking idiot if you think this is about your car, Rowan. But sure, I admit I know exactly where it, and your bed, and your little dagger are being hidden."

He narrowed his eyes. "This conversation is being recorded, and you just admitted to being an accessory to robbery, so-"

"You aren't going to press charges," she cut him off, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it.

Nasty little prison habit she'd developed, smoking.

Or maybe she just did it because she knew he hated the smell.

"Oh, really?" he asked incredulously, eyeing the cigarette with disdain.

She grinned. "Once you sit and hear my story and realize I'm telling the truth, you're going to feel so guilty you won't even care about the car. Now sit down. I'd hate to see a classic get totaled because you're being stubborn again."

He glared at her, but came back to the table and sat down again.

Then reached over and snatched the cigarette from her lips, putting it out against the steel table top.

She just pulled out another, lighting it with one of her last matches. The irritation on his face made it worth the loss.

He waved a hand as if to say Get on with it.

She'd debated how to tell him this story for a long time. It was long, and messy and not particularly pleasant for her. But she wanted him to know the full thing, so she'd decided to start at the very beginning.

"My parents died when I was four," she began, ignoring his dramatic sigh. "I went into foster care, and as you can imagine, I was a particularly unruly child."

She smiled at the few memories she had. "I stole from the nuns, snuck out of my room at night and ran through the house, set all the clocks back an hour so we could sleep in. Small stuff. But it irritated them, because they couldn't prove it was me."

"Sounds familiar," he grouched, making her grin.

"I was adopted by Arobynn Hamel a year later."

As she'd predicted, his mouth fell open at that.

Arobynn was the known king of the underworld in Rifthold. He had a hand in every aspect of crime, yet no one could do anything about it because he never committed the crime himself.

His name was revered, so much so no one ever dared to cross him.

"But your record says-"

"That I stayed in foster care until I turned eighteen, I know."

Arobynn hated public records and had a deal with someone in the system that he'd take some of the kids off their hands if they kept quiet about it. Illegal as hell, but he wasn't someone you refused without suffering serious consequences.

It was the perfect crime. No one would miss unwanted kids, and it gave the system one less mouth to feed.

"I didn't know it, but he'd been watching me for a while. He... I don't know, saw something in me. Natural, innocent talent he could work with and turn into something different. He adopted me on my fifth birthday. And then he started training me."

"To do what?" Rowan asked, shoulders tensing.

"Everything," she answered with a shaky laugh, taking a long drag from her cigarette. "Stuff I wanted to learn, like how to pick a lock or walk without making sound. But as I got older, he taught me other stuff. Stuff I didn't want to know."

"How to kill," he finished, picking up on her tone.

She nodded, finishing her cigarette and flicking the butt on the floor.

"I was good," she told him quietly, looking down at the table. "By the time I was fifteen, he said I was the best he'd ever had. None of his other... children could beat me in a fight, not even the older ones who had a hundred pounds on me. And I could steal anything and not leave a trace."

His eyes didn't show an ounce of doubt, and she didn't know how to feel about it. But she kept going anyway.

"I was his favorite. I was his best asset, and I didn't care about anything that would compromise me. I lost my parents, and despite how much he wanted me to, I never loved him. I had no weaknesses. Except Sam."

"Another of his students?" Rowan asked, and it wasn't lost on her he said students instead of children.

She nodded. "We were adopted around the same time, grew up together. He was a year older, and whenever I had a problem, he was the one I'd turn to. He was good to me, and by the time I was seventeen, not a small part of me loved him."

Aelin broke off and took a deep breath, wishing she had another cigarette and trying to figure out how to put into words how much he'd meant to her.

"Was?" Rowan asked, so softly and quietly and understandingly that she was reminded of the man he'd once been, the one she'd loved.

Shaking her head to clear it, she said, "He made a mistake. He went on a job; he was supposed to break into one of the underground casino's owned by Arobynn's competitor and memorize the ledger, but he got caught. It was messy and horrible and stupid, and the owner wanted blood. Arobynn promised he'd kill Sam as retribution."

Rowan's eyes widened, almost like he hadn't realized how brutally she'd been raised until that moment.

"I begged him not to. Sam had saved me and helped me so many times that I couldn't not do the same for him. I told him I'd do anything."

She studied her hands, regret and guilt thick on her skin. "Arobynn said if I took ten of the jobs Sam was supposed to do, he wouldn't kill him. I thought they'd be similar to the one he'd messed up on, small break-ins or robberies. So I accepted."

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she batted it away as she continued, "The second I shook his hand, Tern--another of Arobynn's--shot Sam in the head."

Rowan's face blanched so quickly, she thought he might pass out.

He started to say something, but she spoke faster. "I... snapped. I killed Tern, tried to kill Arobynn. You called me a murderer, and that's true. I am, and I don't regret it. Tern was a sadistic bastard, and I'm glad he's dead. And one day, I'll kill Arobynn for what he did."

Rowan shook his head, confusion and shock and something similar to pity in his eyes. "Why didn't you leave, run away?"

She leveled a look at him. "I didn't exactly have a choice, Rowan. My punishment for Tern lasted for over a year."

There was a long pause.

"Punishment?" he asked in a breathless voice that made something in her chest hurt.

She looked at the table again, skin pebbling at the memory of that year. "He locked me in a cell in the basement, in the dark. Once a month he'd come in to ask if I knew someone named Sam. It took me ten months to get confused, another three to say no."

Still not meeting his eyes, she looked at his hands, noticing they were clenched so tightly the knuckles were white. And a part of her, buried under all the rage and resentment and sadness, warmed at the thought that he was... he was angry for her.

"It took me a long time after to figure out what was real and what wasn't. But Arobynn never let me forget our deal. And right before I met you, he told me the first job."

"What were the jobs?"

Aelin looked back up at that, the air thick between them as she said, "You already know."

"The murders."

She nodded, somehow managing to keep her spine straight despite the feeling of a hundred pound weight being lifted from her shoulders.

He at least knows why now, she thought to herself.

It was one of the things that had bothered her over the years. That he didn't know why she'd done what he thought she'd done. That he thought she'd.. wanted to do it.

He was silent for a long time, just watching her with a carefully emotionless face. "Thank you for telling me that," he said eventually. "I never could understand why."

Then he stood and walked to the door again, and it was only when his hand was on the handle she spoke again. "You asked why I'm doing this, and why I'm doing it now."

He opened the door but paused. Waited.

"It's because I tried to tell you this all those years ago, and you didn't care. You just assumed I was guilty because the evidence looked like it."

She spoke around the lump in her throat. "I told you I didn't kill those people, Rowan, and you didn't even care."

He spun around, slamming the door so hard it rattled, and in a split second, he was in front of her. A hand on the table, the other on her chair, he leaned down and got in her face.

He was so angry, so unbelievably enraged she couldn't believe it. He was angry?

"I didn't care? I didn't fucking care, that's what you think? Watching you get dragged away in cuffs was the worst moment of my life, and you think I didn't fucking care?"

Shock hit her like a bucket of ice water.

That moment was crystal clear in her mind, and she couldn't put what he was saying with what she knew.

He'd watched her with that same expressionless face, with cold eyes that had haunted her ever since.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he wasn't done.

"I fucked loved you! I thought you were the love of my life, Aelin. I begged you to tell me something that would help, tell me anything. But you didn't! You just kept saying you were innocent; you didn't give me anything to actually work with."

"I-"

"I found that stupid fucking list five days before I reported it, did you know that?"

She shook her head, because she hadn't.

"Exactly. You don't know what the hell you're talking about," he growled, eyes flashing. "I spent five days investigating it myself, trying to make sense of why you'd know those names. After your arrest, I spent two weeks trying to find anything, a single piece of evidence, that said it wasn't you. And after the trial, I spent another two months trying to poke holes in my own goddamn case."

He slammed a hand into the table. "I did everything I fucking could! I was desperate for it not to be you. I argued my case so your lawyer could plead circumstantial evidence. I put you on the stand so you could say anything you wanted. I went for life sentences instead of the death penalty to give you time to actually tell me what the hell was going on!"

She was breathing heavily, heart breaking and reforming over and over again at what he was saying, what he was implying.

"I didn't assume shit," he said in a low voice, so close they shared air. "You didn't tell me anything."

Aelin's voice trembled as she croaked, "I tried."

He shook his head, letting out a breath of amusement. "No, you didn't. If this past week has proven anything, it's that you don't try to do anything, you do it. You didn't tell me anything, Aelin. You're still not telling me anything."

"I'm telling you to look again! I'm telling you you didn't look hard enough, because I left breadcrumbs only you could find, breadcrumbs that explain everything."

"Stop playing games with me!" he shouted, eyes flashing with a fresh wave of anger. "It's been eight years! Stop holding onto whatever secret you're holding onto and just tell me!"

Gods, she wanted to.

He was the one person she couldn't trust with this secret, this stupid, most important secret, and yet he was the also the one person she wanted to tell it to.

She opened her mouth to tell him, but what came out was, "I didn't kill them, Rowan. I promise I didn't kill them. I can't... I can't tell you anything else."

"Jesus, Aelin," he spat, pushing off the table and turning to leave.

"Just look into it," she called after him, fingers digging into the table to resist the urge to try and follow him. "I promise you can figure everything out, and you'll understand everything. Please."

She knew why, after all this time, it was so important for him to know the truth when that hadn't been her original plan.

It was because she'd spent eight years believing he hadn't tried, believing she hadn't been a good enough person for him to even look into the possibility it wasn't her.

And maybe it was because he was once again leaving her, or maybe it was because she felt like she was in that courtroom again, begging him to believe her, or maybe it was because of something she didn't even understand yet.

Regardless of the reason, she found herself saying, "I loved you, too, you know."

He looked at her with sad eyes that she was sure mirrored her own and shook his head. "Not enough, apparently."

"You don't believe that," she argued, shaking her head and trying to keep the building emotions down.

"If you'd loved me, you would've told me. You would've given me the proof, whatever breadcrumbs you're talking about. You wouldn't have let me watch them take you away."

"Rowan-"

"You wouldn't have thought, for a second, that I didn't try to fight for you. And you sure as hell wouldn't have waited eight years to do whatever it is you're trying to do."

"I had to," she whispered, even as she knew it wouldn't be enough.

She shook with the effort to not tell him everything, but even after all he'd told her and how everything had changed, she just couldn't. Not yet.

He stood at the door, watching her with those eyes she'd once thought looked like the most beautiful emeralds. "Sometimes I think about it, you know. What life would be like if I hadn't tried to fix your sink in the middle of the night."

She smiled sadly. "Me too."

Rowan shook his head, gaze taking in her face like he thought he'd never see her again.

He thought it was over now, she realized. He thought that now she knew he hadn't given up on her immediately, now that she'd told him the story she'd wanted to tell him, that it was over and she'd give up.

"Look again," she whispered. "You know I didn't do it. It's why you're here, why you kept looking after the trial ended. You know I wouldn't."

"Goodbye, Aelin," he said instead, not telling her any of the things she really wanted to hear.

It wasn't until the door shut behind him she finally let herself cry.

She'd told herself that it didn't matter; that in a month the truth would come out and everything would be normal again.

She'd told herself she was only messing with Rowan for revenge, not because she wanted to see him again or test that he'd find the clues she'd left for him.

She'd told herself this was just a game.

She'd told herself all sorts of things that turned out to be lies.

~~~

Part 3

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[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

Up In the Air (Joe x Reader)

(surprise gift for you guys on Joe's birthday ^_^ I started this almost exactly a year ago, and it's finally done! Someone pointed out that I slightly hinted at the plot of this in my last fic post... you caught me.)

Words: 4,028

Prompt: Spring, 1983. Joe has an opportunity in his sights, but as luck would have it, it does not go his way (or does it...?)

-----

(1983)

"God, it was so embarrassing!" Joe put his palms over his eyes as he whined to Sav. The singer was flat on his back in the middle of their bed, and Sav's back was against the wall opposite him. The bassist had his arms crossed in exasperation.

They were back in a fresh, new hotel room after another flight to another city. They'd been settled in for a while, and- as far as you knew- Joe was physically well. Emotionally, however...

"What are the odds that things were placed so perfectly for me today, and then-?!" he swatted the air above him, "That happens? 'Just my luck!"

Sav didn't consider it as dire of a situation as Joe did. In fact, he seemed rather entertained than sympathetic.

"That was out of your control, mate."

"I know it was, but-" he sat up, "Y/n was right there! How was I supposed to keep it together?!"

"If it were anyone else other than her, you still would've had to keep it together, you know," Sav tilted his head down, but had his eyes looking up.

"Well, you're no help," Joe grumbled, crossing his arms back at the bassist and flopping back down onto the mattress.

"There's nothing to help you with!" Sav took a seat at the foot of the bed, "It's not my fault you got-"

Joe sat up again in a snap, warning with a pointed finger, "Don't say it."

"I was just gonna say that I had nothing to do with you being-"

"Don't say it!" Joe pleaded again.

"Joe, it's not that big of a deal that you-"

"Sav!"

"Alright, fine!" Sav threw up both hands, shaking his head and narrowly fighting off a laugh, "I won't say it!"

A loud sigh came from Joe, his head hanging now. The heat of embarrassment refused to leave his face.

"...do you think she's still hung up on it, too?" his voice went quiet, and his tone adopted a sad air.

Sav raised his hand, rubbed his fingers together, and patted Joe's ankle reassuringly.

"It's hard to say no," he admitted, "I know I wouldn't have liked to be in either of your shoes today."

~(5 hours earlier)~

A hand took a grip on your right forearm without warning. It snapped you from the hypnotic, musical trance you'd been in for most of the flight. Having been placed next to the singer for the first time on an airplane, you knew it was his action without a doubt. You looked down and sure enough, Joe's hand was there- holding onto you just a bit too tightly.

Your free hand took off your headphones and you asked him, "Everything alright?"

The singer wasn't focused on you, or anything, it seemed. "Unfocused" was probably the best word you could think of to describe him. His head was slightly tilted downwards, but his eyes were fixed on the back of the chair in front of him. Despite that, it appeared as if he couldn't see it no matter how hard he tried.

You gathered this impression from a split second of looking at him, but as soon as he heard your question, Joe's hold on you was instantly released. His own trance was snapped as well.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. I thought you were the armrest..."

"You were holding on pretty tight," you pointed out, "Something wrong?"

That same look on his face was back again; unfocused. His hand slowly found its way back to the armrest- now that he knew it wasn't your arm. You saw his hand shaking before he gripped it tightly.

"You don't look so good," you noted, adopting a frown.

He hesitated slightly before going very quiet, his face suddenly appearing pallid.

"Fuck..." Joe cursed himself, "I fucked up, I fucked up..."

You pressed again, "Joe... tell me what's wrong..."

He lied to you in a halting voice when a new blush seemed to form on his face, "Um... it's nothing much. There's just- something I haven't told you, and I should've mentioned it before we got on board. But I..."

He fell quiet.

"Yeah...?" you urged him to go on.

"I get... seasick- airsick... sometimes. Not every time, but... every now and then I do- and..."

He visibly swallowed, his breath trembling when he slowly shut his eyes.

Your eyebrows went up, alarmed, "And you're not feeling so good?"

"No, no, no...!" his inner voice screamed.

"Not really, but I'm fine, don't worry about me. It just happens."

His efforts to shrink the overall worry didn't work, as you instantly knew that if things went south, you were the only nearby acquaintance of his who could help him. You were also trapped with him for 2 more hours until you landed, so you would've had to help him if need be.

"Oh god- are you gonna be sick?" your hand raised up slightly to reach for a sick bag.

"No! No, I'm more dizzy than anything..."

"Well, take this-" you handed him a sick bag, "-and just try not to focus on your surroundings. And if you can't hold it down... well just keep it in the bag and away from me, okay?"

"...okay," he exhaled and took it from you, desperately hoping it wouldn't come to that. For fuck's sake, he was already embarrassed enough. He felt like a child. Even worse; he felt like your child.

Joe shut his eyes again and rested his head back on his seat. His whole body looked drained of energy, and you saw sweat forming on his forehead. It was obvious to you he was trying to make himself appear more okay than he was.

"I can do this," Joe nearly said aloud, "I can get through this without her knowing."

Unfortunately, for him, you already knew.

"The poor guy," you were thinking with sympathy, "Never knew he could look so ill."

You asked, "You've been feeling bad for a while, haven't you?"

"...what?" he squinted under his eyelids, lying to you again, "No, not really. Why, can you tell?"

"I don't wanna sound rude... but yeah, you kind of look like hell."

Joe quietly whined at your declaration.

"I know that look, Elliott- I've been in this position before."

The man next to you was intrigued by what you implied. He was suddenly beginning to think that maybe his situation wasn't as embarrassing as it appeared.

His eyes opened, "Wait, have you ever-?"

"Oh- no, I never get sick on planes, but you're not the first case I've ever seen."

"Great. This means she's stronger than me."

You held up your bottle, "You want some water? Maybe settle your stomach a little?"

Joe felt his stomach turn at the mention of liquid and shook his head, "No, I'll be fine..."

It was another lie, but you decided maybe it was best you just let him be. Perhaps he wasn't that bad.

Joe, on the other hand, was fighting the sickness with all the strength he could muster- hoping you wouldn't see it.

"Don't mess this up," he was telling himself, "She's right there. Keep it together and don't balls it up...!"

Going with your plan, you let him be, and put your headphones back on.

He took a deep breath, "Fuck, if only the seatbelt lock wasn't on... then at least I could hide in the bathroom..."

The Leppard waited in terrified silence for his ailment to subside. With the current turbulence, it was impossible. Every shudder and bump made him want to heave until there was nothing left in his stomach. Worst of all, there was no where he could run to; he was trapped.

Oddly enough, before the sickness hit him, he was actually excited to be trapped there.

It was no secret among the band members that Joe quickly developed a crush on you. What started out as a feeling of preferring you over anyone else in the crew soon turned into a reach for romance. There was no time for him to make a move in the midst of the tour, though, which left him to suffer in his teenage desire alone.

When he heard he would be seated next to you on the next flight, he instantly knew it was an opportunity he couldn't afford to waste. This was the first time he'd sat directly by you on a plane, after all. It was a brilliant time to make a move and bond together. He'd been nervous ever since he sat down, but he never got the chance to make a flirt or decent conversation before his body betrayed him. Yes, it was an optimistic opportunity, but now Joe wished it'd been anywhere except up in the air.

The stress of the situation only made him feel worse- but he wouldn't accept the fact that he was about to lose this divine opening.

Not 4 minutes of your music went by when the plane shook yet again. When it did, you thought you saw Joe suddenly move from the corner of your eye. When your head turned, you saw his fist pressed against his mouth, an arm around his stomach, and a green tint over his pallid face.

"Woah, you alright?" you took your headphones off again.

Joe only nodded, closing his eyes to reassure you (but also to reprimand himself under the surface).

"No, no no!! Stop being sick for fuck's sake! You won't have a chance with her!!"

"I'm good, I'm good," he swallowed again, wiping sweat off his bangs, "Go back to your music."

"Don't lie to me, Joe. You look terrible-! Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"I'm really not that bad, Y/n. Just a little... motion sickness..." his breathing became labored, and he angled his body as far to his right as he could. He began to fidget with something as he swallowed, "Ohh..."

The cabin teetering around him somehow made things even worse.

"Honey, I don't think it's just a little," your concern was peaked, and a hand was hovering over his arm, "You look like you're about to throw up or pass out, so how about we get you some club soda and you can rest, okay? If you want to, you can even-"

Joe was turned completely away from you, and had suddenly lurched forward to vomit into the sick bag you'd given him earlier. You knew that any hope of him holding back his condition was impossible now.

You'd initially flinched at his retching; cringing and holding your breath. Only a second passed until you remembered your duty; you were the only friend nearby.

"Uh oh-" sympathetically, you sighed and reached out to him, your hands holding his hair back, "That's not good..."

***

"I feel so humiliated... I was just- so deathly sick! I threw up twice, Sav- twice! And she was right next to me! I feel awful that she had to put up with it...! I feel like that's on me. She probably thinks I'm disgusting; she probably sees me as this huge fucking pansy who can't keep his lunch down while flying..."

"Mate, getting sick on flights isn't a personality trait, and I'm pretty sure Y/N knows that, too."

Joe, who was laying down again, scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"...I think this situation isn't all that bad, really," Sav shrugged, his voice going up in pitch to take on a suggestive tone.

"What on earth makes you say that?"

"It's quite obvious! I just think you were-" he adopted Joe's voice and air quotes, "-'so deathly sick' that you didn't even realize exactly what was happening...!"

"Really? How so?"

"Oh, don't even get me started, Joe."

*** Joe was laying against you now, exhausted from the physical labor forced on his stomach and throat. He was still pale and shivering, but finally willing to accept your advice and remedies. You'd ordered him some club soda (and some mints from your purse), and suggested he take a rest.

This left you where you were now. He had a hand on his stomach, and another one under your hand to calm him.

To say the least, it felt like having a nice, heavy blanket partially draped on you. You couldn't help but think it was at least a little funny. To most people, they'd be absolutely repulsed by a man with a weak stomach sleeping on them during a flight. You couldn't blame them, as Joe could still hurl at any given moment. However, the instinct to care for him overpowered any repulsion you may have had. To you, Joe was like a sick puppy, and you were the one who found him first. You knew he needed you in that moment, and you were okay with it. It was a nice feeling, to say the least.

Joe moved his head against you in his weary and mostly-asleep state of consciousness. A soft grumble vibrated from his sore throat.

Amid those circumstances that would normally gross you out, you managed to smile at him. That, and you gently squeezed his hand to reassure him that he was safe.

That pale, clammy version of the singer you were trapped with wasn't the form of himself he put on display to just anyone. This was a whole new side of him that you knew he never intended you to see; he was helpless. Joe had given in and finally let himself be helpless around you. You found it was rather sweet, and even somehow softening your heart.

It almost felt like a strange honor that not many people had the privilege of possessing, given that Joe tried so hard to hide it from you.

Him desperately vying to avoid your concern was typical for any one of the guys. Naturally, none of them wanted to appear vulnerable around you, but Joe seemed so hell-bent on keeping up his charade of feeling fine. You wondered what reasons he had for his strict act. Perhaps it was the intimate public setting that drove him to conceal his motion sickness at all costs. Maybe it was in order to save himself from certain embarrassment; you really didn't know.

Whatever reason he had, it didn't dwell in your mind for long. All you knew was that even with a half-dead, cold-sweated Joe on your shoulder, your heart was fluttering in a way that was even more inexplicable than his behavior.

*** "First of all," Sav held up a sassy finger at Joe, "She was the one who suggested she hold your hand, plus she held your hair back, plus she let you sleep on her shoulder and tried to make you feel better. Sounds rather tender, if you ask me. Tenderly intimate."

"I'll tell you what was 'intimate'-" Joe's grumpiness was still prominent, "-her watchin' me regurgitate my fuckin guts from 10 inches away!"

"But those were all girlfriend duties!" Sav bounced in his seat, trying to get the point across.

Joe finally fell silent. He sat up, and Sav could see the blush in his cheeks.

"...girlfriend duties?" he nearly whispered to the bassist.

"I'm right and you know it. Tell me those weren't girlfriend-ly actions! She got affectionate with you!"

Joe let his sight fall, then rise back up after a brief moment of pondering.

"She did, didn't she..."

"She definitely did."

Sav was smirking at him now.

Joe asked him again, "You really think she did...?"

"There's not a doubt in my mind."

"Oh-" Joe made a swatting motion and shook his head. He looked diagonally down at the floor, "She probably would've been affectionate to any one of us in that situation..."

Sav laughed out loud at his friend's comment. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was back at home, gossiping in Joe's childhood bedroom during a sleepover.

"Mate, when I had food poisoning last month, she didn't wanna get near me! But today, she was touchin' you and strokin' you and whatnot! Now that I mention it, I saw her smile while you were sleeping and holding her hand! Believe me, she wanted to help you. It was like she had an excuse to get close to you, just like you saw the flight as an excuse to get close to her."

Resting his case, Sav crossed his arms, tongue in his cheek.

They both remained quiet while Joe sat in thought. The pieces slowly began to fit together in his head, forming a train of thought he could somewhat follow.

"Suppose you are right; what do you suppose I do about it now?"

Sav could tell his argument was a success. His work there was done.

"That's entirely up to you."

*** You hadn't been awake that long, and were still pretty groggy when dawn began to break the next day. The unfortunate sensation of jet lag was beginning to catch up with you at that time, too. It didn't matter, because it was all part of the business. Your day would begin soon enough, jet lag or not.

After rubbing your eyes and throwing on your robe, you drew back the curtains and peered out at the misty morning. Thinking the hypnotic trance might wake you up more, you began to stare. Just as quickly, your eyes began to flutter shut again. Right before they did, however, there came a gentle knock at your door.

Blinking yourself back awake, you brought yourself to answer the call.

Initially, you found no one outside your room via the door's peephole. However, when you opened the door to search for anyone nearby, there came an unexpected surprise.

Rather than a person standing before you, a colorful bouquet of flowers lay on your doorstep. Of course, it was strange, but it also left you quickly growing bashful. You just hoped it wasn't one of your guy friends playing an early morning joke on you. Even so, your mind would be too cloudy to process that.

Looking around with sleepy confusion and flattery, you crouched down and picked up the bright bundle. You shuffled your fingers through the top of the arrangement to try and find a label or card that would give away the sender's identity. Eventually, you found the exact clue you were looking for; in the form of a small note.

The fresh, awakening scent of the blossoms wafted around you as you made out the handwriting.

"I'm so sorry I almost threw up on you on the plane! 🙁 -Joe"

It couldn't have been any more straightforward if it'd been put up on a neon sign. You chuckled out loud in the empty hallway and peered around to find a trace of the man in question.

Instantly, you found his eyes peeking from around the corner a few yards away. A guilty smile on his lips made him look so shy- in contrast to his average demeanor.

"This was really unnecessary, you know," the bundle was waved teasingly at him.

"I felt it was necessary," Joe's body slowly appeared more from behind the corner, "Considering you had no choice but to put up with disgusting ol' me."

Leaning on your door's frame, your eyes followed him while he strolled forward and leaned his shoulder on the wall in front of you. You both wore humorous smiles aimed at each other. If you could think any more clearly, you'd recognize this as flirting. Maybe it was- but it seemed oddly natural in that moment.

"Despite what you may think," your eyebrows lifted as you raised the bouquet up to your chin, "You weren't as gross as you expect. That, and you weren't any trouble."

"I just feel icky about the whole thing," he scrunched up his face and shrugged in disgust, "I promise it won't happen again- if I'm seated next to you."

"Don't worry about it, Joe. You just had a bad flight; everyone's got them from time to time."

"Not you, apparently."

Joe's smile turned rather bashful when he diverted his eye contact elsewhere. He silently chuckled with a hint of embarrassment. When you'd reassured him, he all of a sudden realized what Sav was trying to make him see. There was something in your eyes and your smile and your voice that just spoke to Joe; something that hit him and made him realize you wanted to be in the position you were in the day before.

You wanted to be affectionate with him.

Out of his daze, Joe spoke up after a brief hesitation, "So- um, I know it's early... but it's the perfect time for breakfast, so would you wanna go downstairs and get something to eat?"

"You mean with disgusting ol' you?"

"Don't worry-" his face almost went red at the cheeks, and his dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth, "You don't have to think about me keeping it down this time."

Your arm holding the flowers dropped down to your side as you broke up into giggles.

"I'm not worried- in fact, I'd love to go."

You couldn't be certain, but you swore you saw Joe's face actually go red that time.

"Cool! Cool. Did you wanna get dressed or-?"

"Well, you don't seem to be dressed either, so why should I?" you reached back into your room to place the bouquet inside. When you shut the door, you joined the singer, "Let's hit it before Mike and Mal take all the good pastries."

Joe showed his teeth in his grin when you came to his side and began walking.

"If they're all taken, I'll steal one for you- considering I owe you a favor after what you did for me yesterday."

"What did I do?"

The answer was simple, but Joe didn't know how to say it without implying his feelings for you.

"You nursed me back to heath- or at least tried to..."

"I told you not to worry about it..."

"Alright, alright, I'll try not to."

"I'll tell you something, Elliott," you giggled as you both got inside the lift, "You've got a strange way of flirting."

Heat rushed to Joe's cheeks, and more threatened to join them at the thought of you noticing.

"Oh yeah?" he laughed.

"You hope I won't notice every tiny effort, yet you keep doing tiny things to make me notice. Even if we're, for example- up in the air..."

"Oh, god..." just like that, Joe thought he'd be the first person on earth to die of embarrassment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Fuck- please don't tell me I was that obvious..."

"Calm down, don't make yourself sick again," you laughed and patted his back, "If it makes you feel any better... I did notice what you were trying to do on the flight. And- um... it worked. So..."

You stood on your toes, and lightly planted a kiss on his cheek, "Let's just say- you don't have to be sick if you want to hold my hand next time."

Joe's hand lowered from his face, and he quickly flashed a bashful glance at you before darting his eyes away.

The elevator doors opened, the smell of coffee seeping everywhere. Instead of walking out, Joe reached out to you.

"You said I didn't have to be sick next time, and I'm quite well now..."

A bashful smile of your own made an appearance as you took his hand like you did the previous day. When you did, Joe giggled to himself.

You glanced over, "What?"

With a pause, Joe rolled in his lips, then looked right at you, "Oh nothing. Just- if you get sick on the next flight, I guess we'll be even, then."

"So, you're gonna sit with me on the next flight, then?" you raised an eyebrow.

"If it means getting even with you, then yes."

"And if it doesn't mean getting even with me?"

"Well," Joe said, smiling widely, "Then the answer is still yes."

That answer was more than enough for you.

Strolling out together, hand-in-hand, you and Joe made your way towards the breakfast counter. In the corner of your vision, you noticed him snagging a pastry off of Mike and Mal's table when he passed by.

The end

[universallywriting]

Season 0 Pearl invites Greg in to the temple to try some amontillado?

another spooky

tw: death threats, description of solitary confinement

---------------------------------------

Pearl is holding up his van with one hand, being helpful only because Rose has asked it of her, and Greg can't help but joke, "Are you going to trap me under there? Should I look way in the back for a bottle of wine?"

"Don't be stupid," she says, which is about what he expected. She's holding the van up with one hand, the other dangling limply at her side. She's not even looking at him, just up at the night sky.

"I was kidding."

"I wasn't," she retorted. "You're so fragile. Even if I wanted to do anything to you - it'd never last long enough to be worth it.

For the first time, he suddenly feels vulnerable under the van, the realization of the weight of it making his stomach twist with sudden worry. "What do you mean?"

"Let's say I wanted to trap you," she says. "Let's say I drop the van back down on you and trap you there."

"I'm not putting it past you."

Pearl laughs. "It would be easy, but why bother? With pressure on your chest you'd suffocate in a few hours. If I solved that, I'd have to bring you water so you'd last more than a few days. I'll need to bring food regularly for anything longer than that, and dispose of your waste.

"Even then, it's likely the elements would kill you. You'd die in the first storm that hit the beach, or catch some virus. Who even knows how long you'll last? Human lifespans seem wildly unpredictable."

He half crawls out from under the car to look up at her. "Are you saying it's not worth your time to torture me?"

"Precisely."

Greg keeps staring at her, feeling his jaw go slack, and Pearl explains as if anything she says can make him feel better: "If you were a gem I could chain you at the bottom of a shaft, throw you into the ocean, and then I could have centuries of peace before I bothered to pick you up. That would be worth my while.."

"Have you done this before?" he whispers.

"There was a war, Greg. Do you think Rose and I sat around picking flowers?" She looks down her nose at him, then sharply looks away, adjusting her grip on the metal overhead. "You could never understand what we've gone through. What's she gone through."

"Humans have war, Pearl."

"What, a few hours of pain as you lay dying? A century of torment at most. You're so limited you can't even comprehend horror." She glared down at him. He can tell what people feared in her, that she has enough ferocity that he can't imagine anyone wouldn't quail in front of it.

"You can't comprehend centuries of nothingness, numb in the infinite space between stars. You're too temporary," she snaps. "Gems have suffered punishments that last ten times longer than your pitiful life. Agony ten times longer than anything you could ever hope to experience, and you think it'd be worth my time to torture you?"

Waves slap at the beach, and after a moment Greg crawls back under the car with a chill down his spine. He focuses on the guts of his car and mutters, "Rose thinks I'm worth her time."

He doesn't find it as funny as she does when she pretends to drop the van.

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Stay Peachy: Kwamibuster

Summary: With Ladybug out of commission Chat Noir is the only one who can stop Kwamibuster... If only everyone would just work with him here!

---------------------------------

"Let me get this straight. Tikki's captured. Ladybug's powerless and captured, I was this close to losing you too but you won't tell me where Master Fu is? Am I missing anything?" Adrien asked Plagg.

Plagg twitched nervously. "But- but-"

"You have five seconds to give me a good alternative or we're going to see Fu," Adrien announced.

"You could distract Kwamibuster while Ladybug escapes!" Plagg tried.

Adrien crossed his arms and glared. "I said a good alternative! You getting caught isn't good for anyone!"

"Might be good for Ladybug?" Plagg shrugged his arms and gave his most convincing grin.

"Sure! I'll just hand Papillon the other kwami he needs while I have to use a banana suit to protect my identity or something!" Adrien replied sarcastically.

"You'd love that wouldn't you." Plagg knew Adrien. There was a good chance-

The sound of a door being blown off it's hinges echoed down the hallway as Kwamibuster started searching the floor they were on. "Where are you, little cat? I already have a ladybug for my insect collection. Now I just need a small mammal!"

Plagg gave his best kitty cat eyes.

Adrien didn't budge.

Plagg's arms drooped. "Okay, okay! Let's just get outa here first!"

"Knew you'd see things my way." Adrien smirked.

---------------

Master Fu was having a nice, calming, afternoon tea with Wayzz when there was an insistent banging at his door. Wayzz hiding at the sound.

The Guardian sighed. "Who could that be?"

The banging got louder.

"Patience! I am coming! What's the big-"

A blond headed blur shot in and slammed the door shut.

"So this is where you live. Nice place ya got here. Ladybug's in trouble and I need more Miraculous!" Adrien's words tumbling out in a rush as his heartbeat jumped up his throat. Maybe I should have used the window.

"Chat Noir!?" Fu's eyes nearly popping out of his head in surprise.

"Sorry, Master." Plagg appeared, uncharacteristically serious, ears low. "It was an emergency."

"Plagg!?" This was unprecedented! Yes, the Kwami of Destruction was the most free spirited of those in the Miracle Box. But even he knew the importance of secrecy! "What are you doing-"

"Ladybug's in trouble! I just said that!" Adrien supposed he could have worded it better... But also: Ladybug was in trouble! And he was in a hurry!

The Guardian glanced from boy to kwami. Who nodded. "Very well," Fu conceded. Going to the gramophone and entering the code. Bringing out the Miracle Box which he set in its usual place when Marinette came. "Adrien Agreste, choose an ally to help you on this mission. Remember that they mist return the Miraculous once the mission is complete."

Adrien stared as the Miracle Box opened. Kneeling down in imitation of the Guardian's pose. He hadn't known there were so many Miraculous! One of them surely had the power to help! Only...

"What is it Chat Noir?"

Adrien looked up at Master Fu's face. "I dunno what most of these do."

The Guardian sighed. "This is exactly why it should be Ladybug who chooses the temporary hero."

"Hey, it's not my fault you decided she was the only one who could know things!" So this is what being Chat Noir without the mask felt like. "I'm-" Adrien paused as a thought hit him. "Oh. Oh!"

"... Yes?" Master Fu prompted.

"I just realized how dumb it is that I'm not supposed to know the temporary heroes secret identities."

Fu blinked. "Excuse me?"

Adrien shook his head to get his thought process back on track. "Anyway!"

"Chat Noir, what did you mean by-"

"No time!" Adrien pointed at the Miraculous. "Teach!"

Grumbling something about manners Fu acquiesced.

Skipping over the ones Adrien already knew the Guardian quickly ran down the list. The Pig could show you your deepest desire? Seemed like it'd be a good distraction. The Dragon had how many abilities!? Overpowered but okay. The Mouse could make little copies of you. Heh, that sounded adorable but-

"That's it!" Adrien interrupted Fu to grab the Fox and Mouse Miraculous. Which he promptly put on.

"What are you doing!?" The Guardian exclaimed. "No holder has ever used three Miraculous before! It's too dangerous!"

"Well, I don't know who Rena Rouge is and I'm not gonna spend any more time looking!" Adrien turned to the materializing Fox and Mouse kwamis. "Sorry, we're in a bit of a hurry."

"Oh, aren't we always? Name's Trixx."

"Mullo!"

"Alright. Mullo, transforme-moi!"

Multimouse took a moment to adjust to the unfamiliar magic of his new suit.

"I really don't think this is the best course of action," Fu said, attempting to dissuade the young boy.

"Relax, Master! I'll keep him out of trouble!" Trixx announced.

Multimouse nodded as he opened a window. "Thanks. Now, c'mon Trixx, Plagg. I'll explain the plan on the way!" So saying, he launched himself skyward.

Wayzz finally emerged from his hiding place, floating towards his holder.

Fu looked at his kwami. "Oh, I hope he doesn't collapse on the way."

---------------

"True or false? Ladybug has disguised herself as Mr. Banana!"

Marinette was not having a good day. First, Chat Noir's kwami almost reveals her identity. Then, Tikki got captured! And now that tomcat was nowhere in sight. Marinette had barely escaped from Kwamibuster the first time and now she was cornered mere meters from the exit!

"Uh, stay peachy?!" Marinette ran for it.

But Kwamibuster leapt over her and grabbed her wrist. "You can't get away from me!"

"CHARGE!"

From the doorway came a whole swarm of kwamis! Flitting about Kwamibuster and distracting her enough for Marinette to get away.

"You can't get away from me!" Kwamibuster chased after them as they sped off. "You're no match for Kwamibuster!"

"Ladybug!"

Turning around, Marinette saw Plagg and a little guy holding onto his ears. She blinked, this was the first time she saw the Mouse Miraculous in action.

"It's me!" he declared, grinning. "Chat Noir! Or Multimouse, I guess."

"Chat Noir!?" But that meant- No, no, she could panic about that later. "Well, then you must need my Miraculous." Marinette reached for her earrings.

"Uh, no? Why would you think that?"

"Because... Nevermind. What's the plan?"

Multimouse winked. "You'll see. Make your way back to the roof!" And zipped away before Ladybug could ask more questions.

"... A Chat Noir plan. This oughta be interesting."

---------------

"I will capture you all!"

Kwamibuster laughed maniacally as she shot her beam at the Plagg reskins. Made by Multifox with his Mirage. And that wasn't the only part of the illusion.

"I have to say. I think Ladybug will be impressed," Plagg stated. Floating directly above the supervillain so she would need to crane her neck straight up to spot them.

"It has to work first," Multimouse replied. Still standing on top of Plagg's head. His small army made their way into position.

Now!

Multimouse's invisible doubles launched their indestructible ropes at Kwamibuster. Becoming visible as they wrapped her up like Gulliver on Lilliput.

"What!? What's going on!? Oof!" She toppled none too gently.

Wasting no time Plagg zipped down.

"No! You can't beat Kwamibuster!" She freed her blaster hand.

"Mullo, Plagg, unify!"

"Aha!" Twisting upwards she aimed the beam at Multimouse.

"Cataclysm!"

Adrien's power touched the tip of her barrel and the rust spread from it to her pack. Freeing Tikki as dark mist transformed Kwamibuster back into Mme. Mendeleiev.

Adrien merged himself back together as the akuma flew past him. "Uh, Ladybug!"

A red blur shot out and caught the akuma before it could get far. Ladybug releasing a white butterfly in its place.

Multimouse grinned. "Perfect timing as always, My Lady."

"I dunno about that." Ladybug looked around at the destroyed rooftop.

"You think it'll work without a Lucky Charm?" Multimouse asked, following her train of thought.

Ladybug looked at her yo-yo. "The akuma was purified so it should." Throwing it skyward with a little more strength than usual she called out the words. "Miraculous Ladybug!"

The cure swept around them as Ladybug's yo-yo fell back into her hands.

"Knew you could do it," Multimouse praised. "Now, I've got some errands to run-" he tapped the two Miraculous necklaces "-so you take care of Mme. Mendeleiev."

He half turned. "Oh! And sorry about my kwami. No idea what he was doing at that primary school."

"It was a- lycée, yeah. Lycée."

"Right!" He grinned. "A lycée." Totally not a collège. Giving Ladybug a two finger salute he leapt off the tower. Mme. Mendeleiev's insistence on the validity of her scientific discovery fading behind him.

---------------

Adrien held out his index finger to shake the kwamis' hands. "You were both a big help! Thanks."

"You weren't so bad yourself, Chat Noir," Trixx grinned.

"Yeah!" Mullo agreed. "Usually Plagg's holders are no fun but you ran circles around that kwami snatcher!"

Adrien blushed a little at their praise. "Hope we can work together again someday." The kwamis waved as they reentered their Miraculous.

Master Fu closed the Miracle Box once Adrien placed them back inside. Returning it to its hiding place. "It is quite impressive that you withstood the power of three Miraculous long enough to accomplish your task."

"... Actually it was super easy. Barely an inconvenience."

The Guardian blinked. "What?"

Adrien nodded. "Yeah, I don't think occasionally using two or three Miraculous at once is all that dangerous. Maybe if you wore a whole bunch of 'em. But why would you do that?"

Fu processed that for a bit.

Adrien sipped from his tea, awkwardly. "... So does this mean I finally get Guardian training?"

Master Fu nearly slipped as he sat back down. "Huh?"

"I mean, I already know where you are. And we've seen that if Ladybug is compromised it's better if I know what to do," Adrien reasoned out logically.

"I... That is... Uh..." Fu looked desperately at Plagg, who was gorging himself on cheese.

"Hey, don't look at me. Kid's got a point." Plagg swallowed another wedge of Camembert.

Fu slumped with a sigh. Clearly outmaneuvered. "Where should we start?"

"Potions!" Adrien exclaimed, eyes sparkling. This was going to be fun. He could feel it!

[writteninkat]

xii - overwhelmed

word count - 2,220

"if i love you was a promise, would you break it if you're honest?"

index

You walk towards the classroom with your palms sweating and your heart about to beat right out of your chest. You had just confessed to Katsuki thinking he also felt the same, but all he replied was a lousy 'you don't even know me'.

You furrow your brows, clenching your palms into fists in irritation. How am I so stupid? I came to Japan to prove myself and to that dumb father of mine that I can be a powerful hero! And yet here I am being swept off track by some lousy high school crush!

"Careful- if you stare any harder you're gonna melt holes through the walls." A tired and very familiar voice calls out feom behind you. You turn around, anger still clouding your head as your eyes fall on a violet-haired boy.

"Careful- if you don't do anything about your lack of sleep anytime soon you're gonna collapse." You spat back; suddenly everything around you vexes you. You send a mental message to everyone in school; today you're hot-headed, your patience is as thin as a hair strand and taking out your anger through physical violence seems like an amazing idea right about now.

"Jokes on you, I've been like this my whole life and I've never collapsed." He smirks, causing you to raise a brow. "Okay maybe I never collapsed from my lack of sleep."

"Look what the hell do you want?"

"Well- thought you looked pretty upset." He holds up two pastel yellow-colored papers. "And I just so happen to have two free ice cream passes for that new ice cream place right beside the campus." He takes a look at his watch, "We still have an hour and thirty minutes till the bell rings. What do you say?"

"And that idiot just says 'you barely even know me'" You wave your hands up, making a dumb face as well as a dumb voice to match, "like hello! I know I barely know you and that's why I feel so upset and conflicted right now! You get what I mean???" You huff back on your seat, shoving the small pink translucent teaspoon in your mouth.

Shinsou nods his head, eyes on his ice cream as he shoves a few scoops in his mouth. "Mmm- this banana flavor tastes amazing. You should try it." He offers his cup to you, making you frown.

"You're such a jerk! I thought you brought me here to let me vent out my anger." You frown, your eyebrows knitting together as you place your cup on the table, leaning back on your seat as you crossed your arms.

"I did. I listened as you vented out your anger to me and we're having ice cream but I never said we were going to talk about the situation." He points out, annoyingly unbothered expression resting on his face as he continues eating his own ice cream.

You look at him in irritation and silence for a few moments, trying to calm yourself before taking your little teaspoon and scooping a bit from his own cup. You shove the scoop inside your mouth, pouting. "The banana tastes amazing." You huff, expression still angry.

Shinsou chuckles lightly, the small smile actually lighting up his usually dark features. "It is, isn't it?" You've only ever met one person with a so-called 'contagious smile' and he was the funny boy you met at the park one day.

Ethan will have to share his spot in my list for 'contagious smiles'. You thought to yourself, letting a smile break your frown as you look down at your ice cream.

"Have you seen the new conjuring movie? It's pretty cool, a solid six out of ten." He shrugs. You shake your head, "I can't watch scary movies. I won't be able to sleep especially now that I live alone."

He raises a brow at you, "Oh come on. We can watch it together through video chat or something. I really wanna see you piss yourself while watching it." He chuckles, causing you to squint your eyes at him. "Is that a challenge?" You point your spoon accusingly at him.

"What if it is? You gonna back out? Loser?" He pushes jokingly, mirroring your squinted eyes. You bring your hand on the table in a fist, "Oh it's on."

Shinso walks you to your classroom just five minutes before the bell is about to ring. "How can I contact you?" He asks, doing the thing with his hand behind his nape as he looks away. "Here." You tug at his hand, writing down your discord account with a marker. "Call me after the sun sets. I'll be home by then."

He waves you good bye and you step in, almost completely forgetting about why you were annoyed so early in the morning. Your eyes fall on the blond boy, still looking angry as usual. His eyes meet yours for a fraction of a second before your looking towards your seat.

As you sit down, the bell rings and in comes Aizawa, tired as ever. "Today, you will all be choosing your hero names. This has a lot to do with the Pro-Hero draft picks and because you are only first years, any offers can be taken back before you graduate." He explains, pointing at a chart where Todoroki's, Katsuki's and your names are written at the top with thousands of heroes wanting to recruit you.

"You will all spend one week interning with the pro heroes you choose or those who chose you, depending on if you have multiple offers or just one." Aizawa continues to talk about the importance of hero names before Midnight walks in the classroom.

The class begins to cheer in excitement as they all are given boards and markers for their names. The cheering and yelling dies down in a few minutes but the excitement doesn't. You smile, feeling your heart throb at the innocent looks in your classmates' faces.

Each of you all are being called up to present your hero names and as your turn slowly comes closer, your palms begin to sweat and that feeling of not being able to stand properly hits you.

"L/n Y/n. It's your turn, come on up sweetie." Midnight calls for you, curling her fingers a few times. You stand from your seat, walking towards the front, keeping your eyes forward and looking anywhere but Katsuki's eyes.

You flip your board around. "I chose the name Tempest. It means a violent windy storm." Midnight claps her hands, "I love it! Basically telling the villains not to mess with the storm." She cheers, allowing you to walk back to your seat.

"So! Have you guys chosen an agency yet?" Mina asks, shoveling food in her mouth as Kirishima and Sero follow suit. You shrug your shoulders, "I'm having a difficult time choosing between Hawks' agency or Endeavor's agency. I want to work on my speed but then again, Endeavor's the number two. It'd be a waste to throw this chance away."

"And yet," Denki points his fork at you, "It's also a waste to throw away the chance of working with Hawks. I heard he's the youngest pro right now who has his own agency and is in the top ten."

As you were about to scold the blond for talking with his mouth full, Katsuki marches towards the table, setting his tray down before sitting down beside Kirishima. You look at the empty space beside you and your mood immediately turns sour.

Wow. Sure, he has the right to feel uncomfortable with my sudden confession but to not actually have some type of closure? You sigh, not bothering to finish your food before standing up. You slide your tray to Denki, earning a cheery mouthful 'thanks!' from him before you walk away.

You walk out the classroom upset, tired and hungry. Your mind races back to the tuna sandwhiches the cafe sold and your mouth immediately begins to water.

"Hey idiot."

All your food fantasies disappear the moment his gruff yet very warm and relaxing voice calls out to you. To make sure you weren't about to embarrass yourself, you look in front of you, searching for someone else only to be greeted by an empty hallway.

Slowly, you turn around, pressing your lips together as you look at Katsuki with the most nonchalant look you could pull, no matter how much you wanted to scowl at him.

"What's up?" You ask, mentally slapping yourself. What's up? What's up??? Who the fuck do you think you are to him, Kirishima??

He looks awaw, walking towards you. "They have new matcha cookies today. I checked before I got here."

You stand there, staring at him for a second, two seconds, five- ten- "Dumbass. Yo. Can you hear me?" Katsuki snaps his fingers in front of you, gaining your attention as he snaps you out of your daze- literally. "Well?"

As much as you want to say yes, accept his offer and just live a happy life, you didn't want to live a confusing one where you get hurt in the end. "I don't see why you have to do this, honestly." You look to your right, looking out the windows.

"We hang out, I feel like you're treating me differently than the others, I feel like I'm special to you, I recognize my feelings, and although I feel conflicted and upset I still confess my feelings to you." You grip onto your bag, "And you respond to me by what- telling me I barely know you?"

You look back at him, the corners of your lips pulled downwards sightly. "Katsuki I- I got the message, okay? Don't do whatever this is to me because from my point of view, you're leading me on cause you can't voice out or even figure out your own feelings." You motion your arms between the two of you. "If you liked hanging out with me, I'm sorry but I gotta keep some distance between the two of us before I go confessing to you again like an idiot."

You stand there, eyes dropped to the floor in silence.

Say something, you idiot! Fucking say something to me! Tell me how you feel- it doesn't matter if it'll hurt me, just say something!

"I'm sorry."

You look up at him, confused. His brows are knitted together in dejection as his shoulders sag momentarily.

You feel your eyes prickle with tears as you nod, pressing your lips together. "Okay." You click your tongue, turning away as you walked from the unnervingly quiet boy.

As you reach your apartment, the sun has already set, you're tired, your cheeks are stained and are still being stained with tears and your phone is blaring.

You answer it without another thought, Shinsou's tired and relaxed voice giving you a soft 'hey'. You can hold it in much longer as you break down into sobs.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, Y/n." He sounds genuinely concerned. You sob for a few moments, letting out all the emotion you've pent up inside you as you walked back to your apartment.

"I-I just-"

Another call interrupts the two of you, making you furrow your brows. "Hold on-" You sob, your eyes scanning down your screen to see your mom calling you. You put your call with Shinsou on hold, answering your mom.

"Hey mom!" You cheer, trying to act as gleeful as possible. "Hey baby! So I heard you have a boyfriend, your aunt Miwa sent me a picture of the two of you in the paintball place? I just thought maybe you wanted to know about that boy's abrasive and violent past?"

He's not your boyfriend.

"What- you looked into him?" You yell.

"Well I had to! It's my first time my baby has a boyfriend. Anyway, I don't mean to be that mom but I don't think he's a good fit for you, honey. He's bullied countless students in middle school and after observing how he acted in the sports festival, I don't think that boy changed at all." Your mother does sound truly concerned for you but everything seemed to be too much for you today.

Before you can even think of the sentences you want to say, you hear a knock on your door. You sigh, pacing towards it as you pull it open, brows furrowing in anger at the sight of your father in front of you.

"Y/n I just want a second chance-"

You yell.

You yell out your frustrations, your sadness, your hesrtsches, everything. Every single emotion you felt today just came pouring out as you yelled from the top of your lungs.

Your body falls to the floor as your limbs begin feeling like jell-o and your head begins to spin. You hear your father ordering his guards around frantically, but his words are all muffled and unclear. You begin seeing double- seeing two of your father really isn't helping right now.

"Hey, Y/n, baby keep your eyes open for me. I'll bring you to the hospital just-"

"Can all of you just shut the fuck up for a moment?" You whisper weakly before darkness swallows you up once again.

It's cold. It's dark. You're alone.

You're always alone.

[wonglix]

➺ ᴛʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

⤷ y/n x jeno (+ best friend!renjun)

⤷ you and jeno have been endlessly flirting with each other for months now, neither of you taking the next step of officially asking the other out - and it’s driving everyone around you insane. imagine renjun’s frustration when he gets stuck in a broken elevator with you two lovebirds for hours on end.

⤷ fluff

⤷ 2.0k words

⤷ warning: cursing

"y/n, you're here to visit me, your best friend, not that little loverboy of yours," renjun groaned after you asked him if jeno was around somewhere as well. a small chuckle blew past your lips, and you lightly smack renjun's arm, the boy looking at you with an unamused expression. "he's not my lover boy, injun." he looks at you with raised brows, "but you wish he were, and that's the point you thirsty little shit." you gasp, both of you bursting out in laughter. renjun wasn't wrong, quite the opposite actually: it's clear to most people at first glance that you and jeno are very much interested in each other. no one knows why you two don't just finally start dating; the constant shy glances and flirty conversations getting on everyone's nerves.

"are you two ever going to get together or am i damned to listen to your stupid flirting for eternity?" renjun mumbles out between bites of watermelon, the teasing smirk on his lips aggravating you only the slightest bit. you let out a hum while thinking about it, the question making you think for a bit. shrugging you look at renjun, "honestly? i don't know. i guess we both enjoy the chase. what if it gets weird between us once we start dating you know?" renjun nods and seems to seriously think about what you said, a small sigh leaving him, "you've known renjun for as long as i have, i'm pretty sure you two would fit together quite well," he chomps down on another piece of melon, giving you some time to think about his words. "also, i'm pretty sure the two of you wouldn't turn down other people if it really was about the chase."

you furrow your brows in confusion and renjun takes it as his cue to elaborate, "there were a few people that asked jeno out, and he turned down all of them. well, and you turned down those two guys from your history class too, didn't you? i'm pretty sure if the two of you only enjoyed a good chase, you wouldn't turn down people to mingle with. you two genuinely like each other, i'm sure of that. and as much as the two of you flirting annoys me, i just want you to be happy," renjun finishes, leaning over to steal a few pieces of melon from you. it's like renjun opened your eyes for you, the realisation that you're genuinely, completely, absolutely infatuated with lee jeno making your ears burn up.

renjun chuckles at the redness of your ears and the look of realisation on your face, "now you only need your loverboy to realise the same thing." you blink at him, and suddenly you feel helpless; it has been so easy to enjoy your back and forth with jeno, the flirty remarks and teasing touches always were easy to reciprocate, but now? now that you were aware of the weight of your feelings for him you felt like you've wasted so much time just idling about, so much time you maybe could've already spent in his arms.

renjun had stolen the rest of your fruits at this point, but you couldn't find it in you to care - your fingers were itching with excitement at the prospect of seeing jeno, the thought of spending any more time apart from him making your head spin. luckily for you, you agreed to a movie night with the rest of the dreamies. while you were on your way to the elevator to head to the dorms, you were trying to come up with a smooth way to open up about your feelings to jeno. renjun was rambling on about something you didn't really pay attention to, thoughts of jeno clouding your mind.

it's like fate decided to play cupid for the day because right there in the elevator was standing jeno, the surprised smile on his face quickly turning into a flirtatious one once he spotted you. "well hello there, precious. going up or down?" renjun let's out a whine, pushing past you to get into the elevator. "listen, i don't care what you two do once we're at the dorms, but please, please spare me until then. i don't think i'll survive that disgusting flirtatious bullshit." jeno snorts at that, throwing his arm around renjun's shoulder while you're getting in the elevator, pressing the button to get all of you to the ground floor.

"would you rather i flirt with you, jun?" jeno's voice was disgustingly sweet, and renjun shoved him away from himself, both you and jeno bursting out in small giggles. renjun grumbles annoyed and presses the button, the doors of the elevator closing smoothly. the elevator barely started moving when it stopped abruptly, the lights flickering above you. the three of you stayed silent for a second; waiting for the elevator to start moving again. it didn't.

"uhm..." jeno started, not really knowing what to say. turning to renjun you let out a shaky breath, "what do we do now?" renjun shrugged before experimentally pressing the emergency button, a loud sound ringing through the small lift. it took a few seconds until a voice spoke up, inquiring about the emergency. "yeah, uhm, we're stuck in the elevator." the lady on the other end hummed, faint typing being heard in the background. "alright, there's good news, and there's bad news. the good news is, don't worry, you're safe. don't panic and just sit it out until emergency services arrive," her voice was calm and comforting, though what she said next did anything but comfort you, "the bad news is that it's probably going to take a few hours until you're going to get out of there." it was silent for a second, jeno suddenly piping up, "a few hours? isn't there a janitor or something that can let us out?" the lady sighed, "no, i'm sorry. it's a bit more complicated than that. there's nothing we can do, so i suggest you get comfortable in the meantime. i'll make sure to contact the company that there are three people stuck in the elevator."

here you were, sitting on the elevator floor next to renjun, jeno sitting across from you. you had been talking about whatever came to mind for the past hour, the three of you slowly running out of topics to discuss. "i can't believe we're stuck," you whined for the approximately sixth time, head buried in your hands. "well, at least i'm here. it'd probably be even better without jun, like some prolonged game of seven minutes in heaven." jeno snorted at his own remark, renjun only grumbling out a small "more like hell."

after endless rounds of rock-paper-scissors and somewhat passionate discussions about whether water is indeed wet or not (which it isn't), the three of you reached a point of silence. it wasn't uncomfortable, but you wouldn't call it comfortable either - you were kind of just sitting there, and you were slowly starting to drift off. your head fell onto renjun's shoulder, renjun shifting a bit to make it a bit more comfortable to you, the boy already had gotten used to it over all this time as your best friend.

judging by the deep frow on jeno's face, he didn't seem to know that things like that were quite common for you and renjun. you were long gone at that point, sleep tugging on your conscience and dragging you into a deep slumber while renjun had to hold back from snickering at jeno's unhappy expression.

jeno was nearly burning holes through renjun at this point, "are you really jealous even though you two aren't even dating?" renjun had a teasing grin etched onto his face, jeno not being able to answer in more than a few stammers for a second. "w-what?" renjun snorted at the reaction, rolling his eyes at his friend.

"cmon, id be dead if looks could kill jeno. it's clear you two like each other so please just get it over with, i can't deal with two lovesick idiots at once." jeno was about to protest renjun's teasing until the words registered in his mind. "wait, two lovesick idiots?"

renjun can't help but let out an annoyed groan, "oh please! you can't tell me you're that dense, the two of you are so in love with each other its actually disgusting," you let out a whine when renjun gestures with his arms wildly, the movement momentarily ripping you out of your slumber.

jeno's silent for a bit, his gaze focused on you and your sleeping face; if there's anyone that should know how you're feeling, it should be renjun, right? jeno gulps, his gaze drifting back to renjun, "and...and how should i go about it? just, i don't know, ask them out or-" "YES!" renjun couldn't take it anymore; no one was leaving this elevator until the two of you finally sorted your feelings for each other out.

you're startled awake by renjun's outburst, tired eyes looking around in confusion. your eyes meet jeno's, and he feels his heartbeat ring in his ears, cheeks heating up and without much thought, without any plan on how exactly to go about it, jeno suddenly blurts out: "i like you, y/n."

confusion and sleep were still clouding your mind, so your first reaction was to stutter a bit, a frown on your face. "y-you- you what?" renjun sat next to you awkwardly, his eyes drifting back and forth between you and his friend. jeno cleared his throat, his nerves making his throat dry up, "i-i like you, and-...uhm, and i'm pretty sure you like me too."

you blink at him, a soft blush spreading on your cheeks; the sudden confession catching you off guard. you're stunned into silence, your brain still not working on its full capacity. "come on, answer him. don't make him wait, that's just cruel," renjun chimes suddenly in like some sort of referee, making you blush even more.

"uhm, y-yeah. i do, i like you too, jeno." you spluttered out, renjun mumbling a small "finally" you decided to ignore. jeno suddenly breaks out in the brightest smile you've ever seen and leans forward, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you over to his side. "now you can sleep on me, where you belong."

"guys please, i got you together so please stop with the disgusting flirt talk or whatever this is supposed to be. please, until we're out of here, i beg you," renjun whined at the two of you, jeno grinning triumphantly as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer.

"jun, come on. did you expect us to stop once we're dating?" "we're dating?" your teasing made the cocky look on jeno's face drop, big eyes looking back at you in confusion. "uhm, yeah? i thought you know since we both-"

jeno was just too cute for his own good at that moment, so you lean forward and interrupt his defensive rambling with a soft kiss to his lips. it shuts him up and makes renjun let out a disgusted groan, small giggles escaping you. "i was joking, jeno."

the boy lets out a sigh of relief at that, elbowing you lightly, "don't play with my feelings like that!" giggling you nuzzle further into his side, "never, jeno."

it took another two hours until you were finally rescued, renjun letting out a giant sigh of relief after finally being able to leave the two of you alone. it's understandable; the poor boy had to listen to you and jeno's new-couple-talk for the last hours, the sweet compliments and cute giggles making him want to throw up. instead of joining the others for the planned movie night, you and jeno decided - to renjun's delight - to retreat into his room to spend some time together and finally take each other up on the flirtatious comments you've thrown at each other for the past months.

[theamberwriter]

Ficmas Day 1: One More Sleep [Tenya Iida]

Pairing: ProHero!Tenya Iida x Fem!Reader

Song: One More Sleep by Leona Lewis

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: I tried to get this done a few days ago, but I was just so tired 😭 Anyway, I hope that you guys like it!

~

Tenya rubbed his eyes groggily, staring at the ceiling. He rolled over to look at the clock on the nightstand. 3:43 AM. How frustrated he was by this. He should've been asleep hours ago. He sat up, deciding it was no good. Sleep wouldn't come, not until you were here by his side.

    He checked his phone for the date. December 21th. Four. More. Days. Five more grueling, restless nights. Tenya figured he should've been used to this. Spending time apart. Your relationship had been that way since the beginning. You traveled for work while he stayed put. Doing the hero gig he'd always dreamed of.

    But now - so close to Christmas - it was impossible to think of anything else but you. Here. In the bed you'd spend nearly a year deciding on because he insisted you had to look at all the options first. Your side was barely worn. It made his heart ache in ways he was too stubborn to admit.

    Tenya wondered if it's be too cruel to ask you to stop. To stop traveling. To stay put, just for a little while. No more calling at wild hours. No more flickering signals or long distance fees. Just you and him. Together in the home that you'd bought. The place you made love and fought and kissed endlessly to make up for lost time.

    But when was enough, enough?

    He swung his feet out of bed, put on his glasses, and slid on his slippers. A blue bathrobe hung from the best post. It was one you'd bought him last year from somewhere over seas. You had said it reminded you of his eyes. Apparently you'd worn it considerably before gifting it. It was drenched in your scent by the time it reached his hands. The collar smelled like your shampoo, the rest of smelling of your favourite spray. You'd bashfully admitted you wore it because you missed him. And this one little thing made you feel closer.

    Your smell had been washed from it by now. But he silently wished it was still there as he put it on. He only flicked on a few lights as he made his way to the kitchen. A warm cup of tea on a cold, snowy night sounded wonderful. Tenya looked out at the piling snow as he waited for the water to boil.

    He worried your flight would get delayed. Or worse – it'd be put off until after the storm passed. Sure, he'd video chatted you early that evening. But he felt like he'd die if he had to wait even a single day more than he already had to. He ran a hand through his hair. What a funny thing love was.

    Tenya had never expected you to come into his life. He never really expected to share love with anyone. It was just another thing his brother talked sweetly of. Telling him, “Tenya, you'll know when she's the one.” Tenya breathed his brother's every word like gospel.

    Except for that one.

    What had Tensei meant by you'll know – it wasn't very informative. It didn't help too much. It only kept him guessing as he passed attractive women. Until Tenya found you. It wasn't love at first sight. Not entirely. But the first words he thought when he saw your face? I just found my wife.

    It had been such a nauseating, powerful experience. One little glance as you said 'hello' from your new spot at a desk in his agency. Tenya had rushed away, and left out the back so he wouldn't have to pass you again.

    It was the single most powerful moment in his life.

    Many things had changed over the years. You were one of those earth shattering experiences for him. Breaking open the egg that was the world. Showing him more than he would've thought possible. Four years ago, that thought that he'd fall in love with a stranger and get married to them just two years after would've seemed ridiculous. But here you two were.

    You worked as a travel writer. Going to exotic places. Trying new things. Meeting new people. While Tenya was living his dream. Fulfilling his brother's legacy as Ingenium. He never thought being alone could feel so hollow and bitter and cold. He'd never really felt lonely when he was alone, until you two made a home together. Tenya worried that home was too boring for you. Surely it had to be after seeing so much of the world. It gnawed at him. No matter how much reassurance you gave him that coming back home to him was always the best part of the trip.

    Tenya contemplated his tea as he poured in the water. Watching as a deep red color soaked out from the leaves. Only four more days, he kept reminding himself. Five more nights, and she'll be with you. But the mantra didn't help at all.

    Tenya went to his reading chair by the window. Yours was next to his, a table separating them. Your side was stacked with books. Even your chair had a few on it. Bookmarks spouted from a few. Tenya was sure you'd never finish them. But watching you try was endearing nonetheless. Your wedding picture sat on the table, along with a vase of your favourite flowers. He went every day to get one while you were away.

    He counted twenty three. Twenty three flowers. Twenty three days apart. But only four more until you were back in his arms. Until he could kiss you and hold you. Feel your warm skin against his own. They'd made you stay longer, so you'd have writing material through the first of the year. Didn't they know you had a husband and a dog to get back home to?

    That picture encapsulated the best day of his life. A face splitting grin on his own. You wore a goofy smile because he'd made you laugh. Tenya cried when he saw you come down the aisle. Though he desperately tried to hide them. You teased him later about that. He simply covered you with kisses.

    A small lump formed in Tenya's throat as he watched your dog slump sadly down onto the floor in front of your chair. He rolled his eyes up at Tenya and whined, his tail wagging only once. Things just weren't the same with you away. Tenya blew on his tea with a sigh.

    “I know boy, I miss her, too,” he said softly. Then took a sip. The hot tea did nothing to warm the cold that settled in him.

    Only four. More. Days.

    Tenya didn't sleep much after that. Dozing on the couch until the morning light woke him up. He was very stiff and chilled to the bone. Like someone had left a window open. Tenya searched the house, simply pushing the heater up when he found no cause for alarm.

    Tenya was very surprised as he let the dog out. The snow was ludicrously high. Five feet, give or take. He was willing to say give. Your poor pooch could barely get down to use the bathroom. Tenya just knew he was going to have to shovel a path for him.

    Was his ideal morning bundled up and shoveling snow? He was fairly sure that no body's was. But he diligently donned his his coat, hat, scarves, gloves, and snow boots. Being a good dog father and shoveling a path down into the yard.

    Tenya chuckled at the thought of you out here last year in the snow. A hair dry plugged into the side of the house. He yelled at you about the hazard, trying to argue that a hair dryer was not the most efficient way the clear snow. You started a snow ball fight after that. You'd both gone in drenched, and took a nice, hot, steamy shower together. His body tingled warmly at the thought, his face (and quite a few other places) feeling hot.

    After shoveling, it was shower time. Then he made himself and the dog breakfast (yes, he makes the dog's food because he is a very good doggy daddy). After was time to tend to all the chores he'd been putting off in the wake of his depression. This included wrapping your gifts. Tenya knew you'd be home for Christmas, but it'd been too painful to wrap them before. Between his loneliness and the excitement that bubbled in him at the thought of you coming home in a few days, he felt numb but jittery. One canceling the other out.

    And there was still so much to do.

    Ochaco and Izuku had accidentally, inadvertently invited themselves over for Christmas. They wanted to throw a party. And somehow Tenya had gotten wrapped up in it all. He hadn't been able to get a hold of you to try and talk them down. So he did the responsible thing and said he'd take care of it all. They gushed about what to bring and who to invite, he just had to take care of the house and making sure everything was perfect. He supposed this was a sort of coming home celebration for you, so it didn't annoy him quite as much.

    Tenya measured the dimensions each and every package he wrapped. Then he measured the wrapping paper. The process was tedious, but it ensured every piece of paper was used to the fullest. He pulled off the smallest pieces of tape that he possibly could, so he didn't waste the roll. Honestly, Tenya thought of how you might react as you opened them all. The excitement, the embarrassment, the sheer happiness that he wanted so much to bring you. He'd gone overboard, sure. But you were worth every penny. And all the burnt fingers. The thing he'd tried to make you did not go as well as he wanted. But Tenya just knew you were going to love it.

    After wrapping, he figured having a nice tree to put them under would help. He'd only gone out and bought one. Nothing was decorated. That was something you two usually did together. There wasn't a tinkle of a light anywhere to be seen. Though he knew Ochaco and Izuku expected the place to look as warm and cozy as it always did this time of year.

    The decorations were stored in a closet under the stairs. You had made it a giant Janga tower. Honestly, Tenya was a little scared to pull everything out. If he was crushed to death by decorations, no body would know for days. He studied your tower for a while. Thinking about when you'd put them in. You had struggled tremendously. He'd just chuckled. Tenya always thought everything you did was endearing. In it's own sort of way. In the love touched way.

    When Tenya was sure nothing was going to fall, he started to pull things out and organize them into piles. Garland, ornaments, outside lights, indoor lights, the tree angel, upstairs decorations, table runners, stockings – he sprinted through the house as he sorted. He planned to start upstairs, then work his way down.

    By the time he finished the upstairs it was early evening. He'd missed lunch, stopping only briefly to feed the dog. Now it was dinner time. He had no gumption to cook, though. So he heated up leftovers and sat at the table. Tenya stared at your empty chair as he ate. It was made up with a place mat, and a book, and your favourite mug.

    Three more days.

    It surprised him in the morning when there was a ring at the doorbell. Tenya had been up, working slowly at things around the house. He wasn't planning on company. Nor for Ochaco and Izuku to be standing behind the door. They had their own bags and piles of things in their arms. They grinned widely at him.

    “What a surprise,” Tenya said, then moved aside. “Come in out of the snow. I hope the roads weren't too bad.”

    They nodded and ducked in. “Thanks!”

    “Most of the snow is melted already,” Ochaco pouted. “Izuku and I built a snowman yesterday, but he was just a pile of mush things morning!”

    Izuku looked around, clearly surprised by the bare walls and shelves and tree. “Tenya, you haven't started decorating yet?”

    Tenya looked away ashamedly. Eyes wandering on their own to a picture of you. His guests' eyes followed. Ochaco's grin dropped.

    “Oh,” she said, putting her stuff down. “You're probably waiting for [Name], right?”

    “Tenya, if you didn't want to have the party, you could've said something,” Izuku insisted.

    Tenya had tried to tell them he didn't want to throw the party. Not at his house anyway. But they were so excited that they didn't listen. “It's fine. [Name] is coming home on Christmas. It'll be nice to have everyone here to welcome her back. I've just been putting it off. I didn't want to decorate alone.”

    Ochaco hugged him tightly. “I'm sorry, Tenya. We're here to help!”

    “Yeah!” Izuku looked disproportionately determined for the task. But Tenya was glad that his friend was as enthusiastic as ever. He needed the energy boost. “We're going to make it amazing for when [Name] comes home! You have nothing to worry about.”

    The pair ran off, doing what, Tenya didn't know. But he sure was glad to have friends like them. They helped him finish decorating downstairs. And he made them lunch. Soon everything was dripping with sparkling lights and garlands and glitter. Three stockings hung on hooks that suctioned to the wall, one for you, one for Tenya, and one for the dog. He hoped to add more stockings in the near future. But how was that going to happen when you were barely home together long enough?

    Ochaco and Izuku treated Iida to dinner that evening. Taking him to a restaurant down the way. They chatted quietly, mostly going over holiday plans.

    “We're going to my parents' on Christmas Eve,” Ochaco noted, looking over the menu. “Then Deku's mom and All Might are coming with us to the party Christmas day. I hope you don't mind.”

    Tenya shook his head. “No, it'll be nice to see them.”

    “Are you doing anything Christmas Eve? You could always come with us,” offered Izuku.

    “I'm going to my parents house. Tensei and his wife will be there.”

    Ochaco's eyes lit up. “I didn't know he got married!”

    “Not too long before I did. She's a lovely woman, and takes very good care of my brother. We're all very grateful to her.” Tensei smiled lightly, thinking about his brother's wedding. It'd been a very beautiful ceremony with many tears. He was best man, and dreaming about the day he was going to propose to you.

    They ate and talked and laughed. For just a little while, Tenya felt like himself. Izuku and Ochaco walked him back home. It was dark now, and cold bit through their coats.

    “Oh, before we go – I have invites for you to pass out at your agency.” Ochaco produced a stack of envelopes from her pocket. “Could you give them out next time you go in?”

    “I managed to get a few days off to prepare for [Name]'s arrival, but I can run them in tomorrow,” Tenya said, taking the stack.

    “Let us know when you're back,” said Izuku. “We'll help you decorate the outside.”

    Tenya shook his head. “You've already done so much, I couldn't ask for more.”

    “It's really no problem. We don't mind helping.”

    “Very well, then.” Tenya nodded. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

    As Tenya shut himself in for the night he sighed, leaning his head back against the door.

    Just two more days.

    Tenya set off bright and early the next morning. The air was still frosty and the sky looked like it wanted to flood the ground with more white. He was going to try and make this trip quick. He'd been getting increasingly pitying looks. He didn't want to hang around long, to see their eyes boring holes in him.

    He hesitated at the doors, watching as his breath floated up to the sky. Even with gloves on, it felt like the cold seeped through from the door handle. Tenya didn't bother going to his office. He stopped at the front desk. The woman there smiled up at him.

    “Good morning, Mr. Ingenium,” she greeted. “How can I help you?”

    “I need you to distribute these to all of the staff and heroes,” he said, pulling a large stack of envelopes from his coat. He'd spent the entire night trying to remember all of the staff at his agency.

    “Can do.” She took the envelopes. But she didn't shift her gaze. “You look tired, sir. Are you doing okay?”

    “There's a lot to do, is all. My wife will be home in a few days.” Tenya cleaned his glasses, looking for an excuse to break eye contact.

    “Right,” she bit curtly. “Your wife.”

    Tenya leaned on the counter, hoping to charm her with a smile. He was far too tired for this today. He was going to have to hire a new secretary sometime soon. “Izumi, it would mean a lot if you could pass these out to everyone. I'd be very grateful.”

    The woman softened. “Anything you want, sir.”

    He nodded. “Thank you.”

    Tenya left swiftly, before he had to endure anymore one sided flirting. The distaste his secretary expressed for his wife got tiresome. Along with her not-so-subtle hints for him to have an affair with her. He had more important things to worry about. Like making sure you came home to a magical display.

    “Izuku,” he started, phone to his ear as he walked down the road. “I just left I should be home....soon....”

    “Okay Tenya!” Izuku cheered from the other side. Then there was a long pause. “Tenya?”

    But the man was distracted by the window he was passing. “I'll call you back when I get to the house.”

    “Wait, is something wro –”

    Tenya hung up, staring at the window display. It was perfect. It was just what he was looking for to top off the season. You were going to love it. He rushed in, demanding the display in the window. He wasn't usually the type. But he was just too excited. The clerks gently packaged it, tying neat bows around the box. Tenya had to stop himself from sprinting full force down the road.

    He rushed a message to Izuku when he got home. But there was no hope of sitting still for him. By the time Ochaco and Izuku got there, he'd already had half the outside decorated. He was on the roof, hooking up the lights. He waved down at them.

    Ochaco floated up the rest of the boxes for the roof. Izuku nearly floated away as he tried to help finish the lights. Tenya caught him and hauled him down. It felt like they were back in UA as students with the ensuing chaos.

    Tenya treated the pair to a home made dinner. They had a few drinks and some laughs. But honestly, he just wanted to chug through the next few days. Today was the twenty third. Two more days to Christmas. Two more days to you coming home.

    The trio examined their handy work when the sun went down. The house glowed and twinkled. It really did look like a winter wonderland. Tenya just knew you were going to love it. He was looking forward to seeing your face as you watched the display they made.

    Just a few more days.

    The morning of the twenty fourth was a lazy one. He didn't want to get out of bed. Tenya wanted to lay there until the following night. When you'd be there with him. To finally warm the thorough chill that hadn't left him in days.

    But eventually he pulled himself up, going to the vase in the living room.

    “Twenty five,” he muttered, slipping a flower in. “Twenty six....you'll have a very big bouquet this time, [Name].”

    Tenya set to breakfast. He'd lost all his fire from yesterday. He was a tired shell now. He was so sure you were going to love what he found for you. But now one, long agonizing day laid ahead of him. The house was decorated, inside and out. Presents were wrapped. The tree was ready. Filled to the brim with perfectly packaged gifts, awaiting your arrival.

    Tomorrow would be the party. You'd arrive after dark, hopefully with people still around to greet you. You wouldn't have to worry about a thing. Ochaco and Izuku were going to take care of all the other little details. All of the invites read a potluck and BYOB. In the meantime, he had to wait the day out. The only thing he had to look forward to distract him was seeing his family later that evening.

    Christmas morning was to be lonely. Then, by three, the house would start filling up. By eight, you should be walking up the front entrance. By 8:01, you'd be in his arms and smothered in kisses. With any luck, you'd be making love by midnight.

    Tenya went out and shoveled snow again. More than two feet had fallen in the night. The more snow that fell, the more he worried the weather was going to be too rough for your plane. He needed you, sooner rather than later preferably.

    The day seemed to crawl away. Only a few minutes had passed every time he glanced at the clock. Had it always been so difficult to entertain himself? He'd already showered, made lunch, brushed snow meticulously from the front porch and back deck. He uncovered all of the decorations he'd put up the day before.

    He was impatient by the time he had to leave to see his family. Even the ride there drove him crazy. The road seemed to stretch. The cars squeezing from every side. Would the tedium ever cease?

    As the evening with his family began, he discovered it would not. Even as he laughed with his parents and brother, as he listened to stories and shared a few. His eyes never left his watch for long. It didn't go unnoticed, but it was left unmentioned. Just a look exchanged around him.

    They knew, of course. That he counted down every second until he'd see you again. The light and fire you brought into his life was wonderful to see. But how they wished you didn't leave so much.

    Tenya went to bed when he got home. But sleep didn't come. Not for a very long time. He tried to force himself asleep, just a single thought leaping in his head.

    One. More. Night.

    A new tickle of joy danced in his chest as he realized the day. Christmas. You were going to be home. He was going to be counting down the hours until he saw you.

    Tenya zipped through his morning. Shoveling the fresh few inches of snow. Hand making the dog's food for the next week. Making breakfast for himself, showering, and pulling out the outfit you'd picked over video call a week ago. Just a red sweater with stripes and snowflakes and charcoal grey slacks. He spent time cleaning, making sure every inch was dusted.

    He had his fire back – until he checked his phone just after lunch.

[NAME] (Wife)

My plane is being delayed. I won't be home until tomorrow. I'm so sorry, my love, I wanted to be home for Christmas. So, very much....

    Tenya felt a little bit of himself break. He slumped in his reading chair, phone discarded on the table. He stared blankly ahead of him. His worst fear had come true. One more day had turned into two. And with this snow, two could easily turn into three or four.

    Ochaco and Izuku came not too long after. They knocked on the door, rang the door bell. The dog barked. Eventually they tried the handle, letting themselves in. They exchanged a worried look as they spied their friend. They could see the hollowness of his eyes.

    “Tenya...?” Ochaco whispered.

    “She's not coming,” he muttered numbly.

    Izuku put a hand on Tenya's shoulder. “What do you mean?”

    “[Name]'s flight – it's been delayed. She won't be home until tomorrow....” Tenya could barely scrap his eyes to his phone. He didn't want to look at it. To see anything else that might ruin him.

    “But she'll be home, at least.”

    “You don't understand. You two have each other. Tensei will be spending the holiday with his wife. And I have her. If [Name] isn't here....”

    Izuku and Ochaco glanced at each other again.

    “We'll still have a good time, Tenya,” Ochaco said, trying to cheer him up.

    “Yeah, people will start to be here soon! You won't even know she's missing!” Then Izuku began to panic. “Not that we don't want her here. But maybe getting your mind off of her will help. Not that you shouldn't miss your wife on a holiday but –”

    Tenya chuckled. At least something was normal. Izuku eased some at the sound. He and Ochaco set up the kitchen, while Tenya put away anything he didn't want broken. You never knew if someone was going to get rowdy.

    As the first people showed up, the booze flooded in. Tenya had only meant to have one. But he was having a self-pity streak. One became two, two became three. Different Christmas mixes that people brought, some made right in his kitchen; homemade egg nogs, and Christmas cocktails, holiday ciders. He claimed they were just to try. Normally, he'd be following people around. Putting down coasters, ensuring that they didn't slosh on the couch, making sure no one was scuffing up the floors. But Izuku was already doing a pretty good job of that. Probably to make sure Tenya didn't have to worry. But it left him too idle.

    Tenya chatted with his co-workers as they came. They complimented his house, saying they wouldn't have expected anything else from an Iida. He went around, greeting everyone. Thanking each person for coming. Each drink numbing just slightly more. He spent a good deal of time talking to Izuku's mom and All Might.

    He was caught in the middle of an inescapable conversation with his insufferable secretary when Izuku came to tap him on the shoulder. His friend pointed towards the entrance to your house. Tenya's eyes followed his arm, going wide at what they found. They swept to the clock on the wall – it only read 5:23. In alarm, he triple checked what he was reading, to be sure he was right. With a puff from his quirk, Tenya launched himself.

    You screamed as he tackled you. He kept you upright, making you didn't fall. Tenya smooshed your face with too many kisses to keep up with. He squeezed you tightly in his arms. You could smell the liquor on him. Since when did he drink? You hoped this wasn't the start of a bad habit.

    “[Name]! You're here!” he exclaimed in disbelief. He held you at arm's length, looking you up and down just to be sure you were real.

    You laughed, nodding. “Yeah!”

    “But your plane –”

    “I – uh – I lied.” You glanced away from him, your face hot. “My flight was actually bumped up. I wanted to surprise you. I wasn't expecting you to get stupid drunk.”

    Tenya sunk to the floor, and pulled you into his lap. He was so cute with his goofy grin and the pink dusting on his cheeks. He rubbed his cheek against yours. Your guests chuckled at the sight. You pulled him in for a long, hard kiss. So glad to finally have him in your arms. You could feel every bit of his body against yours. You had to calm his hands as they roamed freely over your body. They were dipping into places that shouldn't be caressed in public.

    Finally – no more counting the days.

    No more nights between you.

    No more hours to wait.

    You two were together. And it was the sweetest feeling in the world.

    “Why wouldn't I have been upset by the delay?” he rambled. “I've missed you, and I didn't want to think of another day without you here. I needed a little boost. Drinking was perhaps not the best choice.”

    Tenya clung to you all night, never letting you out of his sight. Seeing everyone was lovely. You really couldn't have asked for a better homecoming. The lights he'd put up outside were spectacular. And the warm cozy air your home had taken on was supernatural. Or maybe it was just because you were glad to be home.

    It was nearly midnight when everybody finally left. Ochaco and Izuku had stayed to help you clean. Tenya wouldn't let you go long enough to do anything. You were about to force him upstairs when he stumbled over to the tree.

    “No, no, no – you have to open this. While it's still Christmas. Please,” Tenya pouted, and forced a little black box with a shimmering silver lid into your hand. The childish pout on his face was adorable, but he really should've been getting to bed.

    “Tenya –”

    “Open it.”

    You eyed him suspiciously, but planted yourself on the couch. He adhered himself to your side. He held you closely, head on your shoulder. A red ribbon was tied lovingly around the box. It was always too beautiful to unwrap. You had a suspicion Tenya hadn't done this himself. He packaged things neatly, but aesthetics weren't his forte.

    You pulled the ribbon, then peered into the box. You looked at him, then in the box, then back again.

    “You did not go out and spend a fortune,” you scolded.

    Tenya shrugged. “You deserve the world.”

    “Tenya!” But you couldn't deny it was beautiful.

    It was simple, with a thin silver chain. Hanging from the end was a pendant. It had your birth stone in set on the part where the chain went through. And there was immaculate scroll work around the edges. Tenya took it briefly from your hands, the pressed the sides.

    The front popped open. A lump pressed in your throat. A miniature of your wedding photo was nestled inside the frame. Tenya turned it over, revealing both of your initials along with your wedding date on the back.

    “I left the other half open, for when we have a family of our own,” he muttered drowsily. “I love you more than the world. I'm very happy you're finally home. I'd be very happy if you didn't have to leave again.”

    “I love this. I love you,” you murmured in reply, then turned your head to kiss him.

    You put the locket back in the box, then helped him stand. You hauled Tenya upstairs, and got him changed. He insisted on brushing his teeth, even though he coud barely stand up right. The necklace took up a home on your night stand. You were going to wear this every day that you could. It was your new favourite piece of jewelry.

    Once you were settled into bed, he immediately took you in him arms. He hummed in content.

    “How would you feel about being a secretary?” Tenya slurred, nuzzling his nose into the back of your neck. “I'm going to need a new one soon. Mine is gonna get fired.”

    You sighed. “I actually wanted to talk to about that. I wanted to wait until you were sober. But – I'm going to quit my job. That way I can be home with you. If we want a family....I'm also tired of spending so much time away from you. You can't imagine how lonely the world is without you with me to see it.”

    Tenya sighed. “I want your....baabbeeezzz...”

    You chuckled. “Tenya? - Love?”

    A light snoring told you he was out cold. You smiled to yourself as he snuggled closer to you. You relaxed into him. You'd been waiting for this for ages. Or, it felt like ages anyway. You didn't want to be away from him anymore. Coming home to the one you love? It was amazing. But getting to stay home with them? That was the best Christmas gift you could ask for.

~

[itsclydebitches]

I'm not sure which I'd prefer: If we stuck to Ruby's group in the void world or the show tried to balance void world with the plots on Remnant (or at least, Vacuo+Salem). Because the latter would be insanely bloated, but I don't know how they could stretch the former out to a volume's regular run time. Plus, it'd mean we go at least a volume left hanging on all the plots on Remnant and there's no telling what they will and won't go into in flashbacks in V10 and/or spinoff stuff like novels.

Though I honestly believe that both options have their problems and that it's a huge mistake for any time to be spent away from the main Salem action right when she's about to secure her victory... I'm leaning towards all of Volume 9 being in the void world, with an expected glimpse into Remnant at the Volume's end. You're right, trying to maintain both plotlines would not only keep the bloated state we've been dealing with lately, but would split it across three, possibly four main locations: void world, Vacuo, Atlas (where Qrow, Maria, and Robyn are), and possibly wherever Salem is too, if she doesn't also use Ambrosius to hop straight to Vacuo. Have we had a four-way split with the cast before? Sure, but these are rather different circumstances. It's not an even split among our four main girls, for one, and that imbalance means that every episode, or half episode, we may feel like we're wasting time on side-characters. Are we going to be interested in Vacuo when our four title protagonists (plus Jaune) are off in a presumed afterlife? Are we going to be invested in an afterlife side quest when Oscar and the others are doing the real work back home? I can't easily imagine a split where the fandom doesn't become frustrated with where the show is putting its attention. Better imo to have a full Volume of the girls on their adventure, perhaps securing power or knowledge to take back to the fight, and then return to Remnant prior to any major events taking place, so Team RWBY is actually a part of all that. Seeing Vacuo for the first time, meeting Theodore, dealing with the refugees, managing a new Maiden, checking in on the Relic, fighting Salem again if she shows up... is RWBY really going to start all that with just Oscar, Ren, Nora, and Emerald? I'd personally pull some time shenanigans and dump Team RWBY back in the Volume 8 finale timeframe, right when the group is getting attacked by desert grim. They are, theoretically, dead. Who's to say time is passing for them at all? Give us a Volume 9 on the island and then have Team RWBY reappear right where Volume 8 ended, ensuring the B Team doesn't do anything too important without them. This would also ensure that the B Team never has to grieve for the death of six friends because, frankly, I don't trust RWBY to write that well. I'd rather Team RWBYJ reappear before/right after the others learn that they "died" and everyone just continues to work through Penny's death, rather than watching an attempt at having them mourn to that extent, knowing the show is going to just take it all back.

As for the question of how to fill up that time, I think there's plenty. Actually, that's another reason why I think Volume 9 should be just the island. Are we really going to have the group die, end up in a totally new world, potentially meet the Gods... and tackle all of that for only half to a quarter of the Volume time? RWBY already feels rushed and fails to flesh out important story beats. We don't need to crank that up to ten by speed running through another reality, RT saying six months later that they wanted to include/explain/develop this, that, and the other thing, but there just wasn't time. The group needs to find each other in this place — that could be the split! — establish where they are, deal with Neo, grieve for Penny, find their weapons or get new ones (Jaune), hopefully accomplish something there, figure out how to get home, and then actually manage to do that. That's actually a huge amount to cover in a relatively short period of time, especially if we add in a subplot or two. Throw in a bunch of cool fights with whatever might exist in this place, give the characters the time to deal with the clusterfuck of Volume 8, establish the long-term goal of getting home, sprinkle in some short-term conflicts, hurdles, emotional moments, and you've got yourself a recipe for a Volume that doesn't feel like it's trying to tackle too much and cutting a number of very important corners in the process.

[af1899]

FEH — So... Resplendent Serra

And well, here is a preview of her artwork:

Artist: Eihi

Thematic: Nifl

Links: JP Twitter thread / EN Twitter thread / [Feh Pass]'s website

Now, for my usual dump of thoughts. 🥴

Artwork

I'll start talking about the brand new art and style, I think it's super cute, it really is, and the Nifl theme feels right for her due to how the colors and features of Nifl clothing go along nicely with her and the natural white of a cleric's, and the cold effects in her special artwork further compliment it.

I certainly prefer it over the original, it's... fine, but I don't really dig the style, even though it did a good job capturing Serra's essence.

I rate the new art: 10/10

Choice

The next thing I'll cover is how good and well timed this pick for an upcoming Resplendent upgrade is.

And I got to say that having a healer get a Resplendent upgrade for the first time gives us hope for more to come soon or in a few months, it's also important for the variety, as it'd be nice to not to get a pattern repeating too often.

I think she came at a good time, out of the blue? Random? Yes, but welcome. Did I mention she never got an alt? And she's been around for years, since the early days of the game.

However, I think we could've had a healer from another game, The Blazing Blade last got one back in early August for Raven, three months of difference is still fine though, but I'm nitpicky when it comes to game choices.

I rate the choice: 9/10

Gameplay commentary

She's considered one of the worst healers in the game, and I can see why, specially due to all the powercreep there is nowadays; let's start with taking a look at her statline at 5★, Lv.40 and no permanent base stat boosts of any kind:

HP: 33

Att: 30

Spd: 31

Def: 21

Res: 33

BST: 148

And uhhh... certainly newer healers (even Emmeryn) will perform better than her, but who's to say you can't invest on your favorites? That's how I am, certainly, so don't feel to unencouraged to build her, the stat boosts will give her a little more competence among fellow healers who have similar statlines.

She has shaky offenses that will shine as you invest on her, and the Resplendent boost will solidify her overall while giving her a well earned aesthetic boost, I think something like what I run on Emmeryn would be nice on Serra too, but watch out for a potential refine if you haven't given her anything premium! So you can decide if her refine will be worth it and what works best with it, otherwise it's fine, I just hope no skill will feel like a waste to you later.

Here's the build I run on Emmeryn, you can copy it if you want:

Reaction

This is where I'll dump how I feel and reacted to this Resplendent upgrade overall.

I first found myself rather perplexed, I'm no big fan of her for starters (in fact I think she's a tad too annoying), I've been reading her wiki article and quotes for a recap since I haven't played The Blazing Blade in months and don't remember reading about her past, and I can see why she often acts up the way she does, yet that's why I also don't care about her or feel excited at all, about the "good" news, making of this upgrade just another skip. (Come on I.S., when are you guys giving Adult Tiki her alt and Resplendent upgrade? 😔)

Still, I agree that she's earned the spot here — and if you're a fan of her and are reading this, I do hope this new Resplendent upgrade has been your liking and that she's doing well for you, hopefully I.S. will also finally give her an alt among others that also deserve it.

The End

Thank you for sticking around and for any form of support you offer, it drives me to further share more content and I hope you've found anything useful or interesting to read.

Remember I have an [AMA] section where you can also ask questions, throw in feedback, etc. It's not anonymous though, because I don't feel confident to allow anonymous questions yet.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Family Drama

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult Situations +18, Smut, Daddy Kink, Swearing, Angsty, Infertility, Bullying

A/n:wow so this has been written for about three weeks, I honestly was never going to post it , a little to close to home ,but wrighting it made me feel better and it might make someone else feel better abput certain topics, this was hard to write but I do hope you enjoy it

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @thatgirly81​

You introduce your new boyfreind to your family  but a spiteful sister tries to ruin what you and Henry have.

Family Drama

You were nervous. You'd been in a relationship with Henry for four months now but had kept it quiet, wanting to have a stong relationship before letting the media know. Especialy now that that it had been leaked that he was going to be playing Superman  again he seemed to be under more media scrutiny.That being said you'd both let your family closest to you know that you were seeing people. But for you you'd only told your mum she knew how you'd met and she knew he was an actor but that was it. Not that you didnt trust her because you did two peas in a pod no it you'd left out his surname so that she couldnt let it slip to your older sister. Your very jealous ,entitled ,narrsasistic older sister. The problem was that you'd been invited to your brothers yearly birthday bbq in a few days. You hadnt mentioned it to Henry yet worried it was too soon for all the family drama that could correction would come of it. You sighed sitting in his living room snuggling with kal as henry took a shower hed just come back from a run determined to get in better shape for his new role kal lounged across you reciveing a veriaty of hugs and kisses. Henry entered the living room in a loose shorts and tshirt damp hair hanging low on his forhead. Taking a seat next to you pullingnyour legs and kal to rest on his legs one hand stroking your calf his smiled faltered when he took in your thoughtfull face.

"You ok hun?" He said as his brow furrowed you leaned your head back on the sofa looking at him running your hand casually through kal's fur.

"Its my brothers birthday this weekend he's having a bbq" you heaved a big sigh as he listened intently as you  continued

"I wasn't sure if you wanted to go or not it might be to early for that" you mumbled more to yourself than anything. His eyes widened as he realized what you were getting at. you'd told him about your family how you and your mum were super close and one of a kind, you got on well with your brother Dean fine having shared interests. Then there was your sister Camille,  your both very different people and you found it hard to get along with her ,bottom line is she was the youngest spoilt princess untill you were born 10 years after her and she never forgave you for it. He nodded to you knowing how hard it was between the both of you.

"I'd love to go I've been thinking of asking to meet your family, I know we decided to take is slow but I love you and this is the real deal." He said relaxing and worrying you at the same time.

"Really? You don't mind? Even though you know theres going to be drama? and my nieces and nephews are probably going to call you superman?" since dating him you thought it'd be a good idea to watch a few of his films and could kick yourself for not recognising him from a few. He squeezed your leg reasuringly "I dont mind I want you know I'm there for you and I love you"  he said leaning over kal kissing you lightly before ushering him off so he lie over you as the kiss got heated resulting in him resting between your thighs as he rocked deliberatly against you before running kisses down your neck.

"How do you feel about showing up to the party with a few of my marks?" You giggled at that slapping his arm lightly.

"You know sometimes I wonder when my shy sweet man turned into a horndog?"  resting over you on his hands leaning in stealing kisses before sucking deep marks on your neck nudging your tshirt to the side leaving another between your neck and collar bone you moaned lightly as he rubbed against your mound chuckling into your shoulder.

"Sounds like I'm not the only horndog" he said grinding harder against you letting you feel him hardening you pouted.

"Hey don't steal my thunder" he leaned up off you before pulling of his top. No matter how many times you saw him he still took your breath away especially since he was determined to bulk up more befor filming. Your heat clenched in anticipation as he made a show of flexing his muscles throwing away his tshirt. He wasted no time tugging the bottom of your shirt over your head dragging your sports bra with it leaving  his eye blown wide as he  drank in the sight of you bare before him. Licking his lips as he dived in kissing and suckling at your breast then teasingly rolled your nipples between his teeth, you bucked up into him moaning making him groan low in his chest your smugness didnt last long tho as he flipped you over onto your knees below him leaning forward you grabbed the arm of the sofa for leverage. You loved how he could manoeuvre you any way he liked. You giggled then slid back rubbing your ass along his prominent bulge then made small circular motions tormenting him as you rocked forward and back he hissed grabbing your hips holding you still against him befor a heavy palm slapped your ass.

"Little brat" he growled then ran his fingers against your slit as your enterance wept in anticipation,  you gripped arm of the sofa tighter between your fingers moaning loud as he continued teasing your wet opening. He arched over you chest flat against your back and used one hand to pull your hair tilting your head back the other tore your shorts and panties down your thighs.

"Think you can tease me and get away with it missy?" He grunted in your ear leaving wet open mouthed kisses on your neck biting hard and sucking again as he shimmied his shorts down just enough to pull out his cock rubbing his weeping head against your clit tapping it harshly making you squeel as your arousal seeped onto him  you cried out as he drew lines along your pussy lips he pushed forward nugding the fat head of his cock to your opening teasingly withdrawing before repeating the movement moveing deeper.

"Fuck please Henry please dont tease I'm sorry" you gasped out when he kissed your cheek and pushed in to you slowly savouring the feel of your walls clench him tightly sucking him in deeper you always felt imposibly full as his hips rested flush against you the head of his cock resting snug against your cervix you moaned out loud when he began rocking the veins on his cock massaged your walls with delicious friction he leaned back hand still pulling your head back. Before grinding against your clit and curving his hips forceing you to arch your back following his movment up you grunted out a moan.

"Ready baby?" You nodded using what little slack he had given you on your hair. "Fuck yes oh god please" you whined looking back up at him eyes glazed over he pulled his hips back snapping them forward not hesitating he set a brutal pace driving you wild.

"Fucking little tease! You think its a good idea to tease daddy?" You whined at the back of your throat shaking your head as he spanked you again

"I asked you a question bratt!" You cried out as his palm struck you again

"N-no daddy I'm sorry daddy please please let me cum please" he grunted out a laugh at your desperate plee you hissed at the slight pain of him bumping against your cervix. He released your hair choosing to wrap his fingers around your throat tight enough to restict your pants pausing he set one foot flat on the floor and pulled you back towards him with one hand then returned to his punishing pace, with every thrust tilting his hips up slightly the new angle made you see star as he was brushing your swollen clit.

"God you take me so well baby girl fuck your still so tight" you opend your mouth in a silent scream tucking your head down as you trembled your pussy clamping down on him uncontrollably.

"Oh fuck I'm close so close" he breathe down your back moving his hand down between your legs to flick at your clit harshly pinching it that was all it took you squeeled loud as you came around him in violent tremors thrusting into you before holding still grunting loud as he peaked inside of you grinding against you determined to make your joint orgasms last, you whimpered as you felt him pour into you, both heaving deep breaths. He breathed out a laugh releasing you patting your hip as he sat down dragging your limp body onto his lap relaxing and pulled your panties back up over your hips keeping his seed smeard against you for as long as he could, you'd found that he was quite a possesive man and was  throughly turned on knowing he was smeard between your thighs. He turned your face kissing you passionately before running his hand down your neck smirking Traceing the three love bites he had left two on yout neck one above the other and the thrid on your collar bone you smiled giggling at him when he picked you up heading towards the bedroom knowing that there was atleast one more round instore today and probably a few more tonight.

You rung your hands together today was the day you'd let your family know that you were bringing someone to the bbq your mum was thrilled to finally put a face to the man who'd made you so happy, Dean seemed happy that you'd found someone and Camille, well she was less than thrilled she prefered that you'd remain single so she could rub her new husband and son in your face and make offhanded comments about how you'd never find a husband like she had. Not that you wanted what she had, a childish husband that refuses to get a job to provide for his family and was creeepy enough to make your skin crawl. He was a boy you wanted a man.You sighed checking your phone again Henry was supposed to pick you up but had to take a call about delays to the filming schedule now you were going there with your mum and Henry was going to arrive a little late. You forced a smile as your mum pulled up beside you quickly leaving your house warnkng your babies to be good. She noticed you were a little tense.

"Whatever happens just remember he loves you Y/n and he is there for you" you nodded

"I know I'm just nervous I hope you like him" she smiled before pulling away from the curb

"I've seen how happy he makes you trust me I'll love him" she reassured you in only a way a mother could. Then raised an eyebrow at your neck you blushed as you knew what she was looking at.

"Not sure how your brothers going to react to his baby sister smothered in those" you groaned leaning back into the seat as she laughed

"Didn't think of that... it was his idea and I can't exactly stop him or want to if I'm Honest" she snorted at that. It was a short drive to Dean's house you were greeted by an entourage of excited nieces and nephews quickly wrestling each of them for kisses and cuddles before following them into the garden as they made a bee line to the trampoline you heard a scoff.

"Thought you were bringing someone? I was quiet looking forward to meeting your mysterious other half" dripping with sarcasm you ignored her and sat down across from her calling out a greeting to Dean who was cooking at the built in bbq he waved the spatular.

"He had to take a call about rearranging the flights" you replied not wanting to ignore her completly and rock the boat already. You felt eyes on you and realised that your sister in law had clocked onto your neck.

"Oh someones been getting it, I'm looking forward to meeting him you've been together what three months?" she teased plafully you got on well with her and was closer in age. You blushed beet red befor pulling out your phone as you recived a text it was Henry telling you he was 10 minutes away turn out he was just being told his new flight dates you smiled and left it on the table. You nodded at her Camille sneered but caught herself plastering a kind looking smile.

"Yeah I dont understand why you kept it quiet. Your not embarrased of him are you?" She asked bitingly you frowned as you poured yourself a lemonade sipping it collecting yourself before answering

"No I'd never be embarrassed of him. But we thought we would take it slow and see where it goes befor diving right in" she chuckled sipping her drink as you said his name.

"He's an actor isn't he? so what is he one of those actors that works on indie films? Or a proper actor? would I have seen him in anything? is one of those 'actors' always in the background" You growled a little as she laughed then you smirked at this looking at her scrawny husbands arms both covered in dc sleeve tattoos Camille may not recognise him but her husband definatly would.

"Yeah maybe ,he has been in quite a few things, tv show and some big blockbusters." You leaned forward drinking a few mouthfuls to hide a smirk ,today you were going to finally shut her up the greatest revenge for all her years of tearing you down was proving her wrong. She had spent so long since you grew up knockjng you back drummjng into you that no one would ever want you that it had caused a few problems with Henry in the beginning,  it had taken a lot of convincing but finally you were happy and confident that someone did want you and he was incredible. Today was the day you could be a little smug.

"Well he can't be that big of a deal if he is with you now can he?" She giggled hoisting her son up onto her lap coddling him, you frowned.

"Well he is working on a big one now, a sequel" she snorted again taking a sip of her wine.

"Really?" You clenched your fists in irritation wanting to defend your man

"Yes he works for dc" her husband looked up smiling

"Really? Dc comics?" You smiled leaning back knowing his intrest would push her buttons you nodded.

"Yeah not sure how much I can say tho, but thats what the phonecalls are about today, something came up with one of his costars so they have had a change in the dates he is just getting the new flight details" he nodded smileing you could see he was excited tdying to think of who it was, you wont say you want it to be a shock as childish as that was, you had a good smart god of a man and you wanted to show him off, rub him in your sisters face. You smiled as Camille started sneering even tho your still nervous your brother came over to the table placing down a large tray of sausages burgers and chicken kababs.

"Wheres your other half?" he said as everyone dug in you smiled accepting a plate off one of you nieces who was diligantly passing them out you quickly caled her as she made to go past you.

"Lotty can I have another one darling?" She nodded confused but still handed you one. You turned to your brother

"He'll be here in a minute, he had a work thing that couldn't wait." He nodded "Wana explain them before he gets here?" He nodded to your neck teasing you as he piled his plate. You blushed

"Uh haha well we got a little carried away after his workout this morning....I'd rather not say more then that." You said quietly helping yourself to a burger and some salad. He smirked at you ruffling your hair

"Finally growing up eh? Just be safe" You slapped his had away with a quiet fuck off the banter was cut short as your sister scoffed.

"Be safe not like shes gonna get pregnant" you stopped smileing hurt by the comment as she chose that moment to hug her eighteen month old son, it was true you couldnt but she didn have to be such a bitch about it, she saw you as less of a woman now, her view was a woman wasnt a true woman if she did not have children, an ideal that she had spent her whole life wrapped around a desperate need for a baby and somehow she was better than you because she had a baby and you were never going to, and never missed a chance to remind you that you'd never be 'complete' as she puts it, never find someone who'd stay with you when they found out children was not an option for you, it had been confirmed you pretty much couldn't have kids there was the a very very very slim chance youd ever conceive, so low youd been told to think of yourself as barren and in the miracle that you did fall pregnant  you probably wouldnt carry to term, since then she had made sure to beat you down with it, it was still a fresh wound a difficult thing for any woman to accept but your not even in your thirties which somehow made it even worse, not that you planned any kids, you actually never wanted them it was always 'maybe one day' but there is a difference between choosing not to have them and being told you can't.

"Why the fuck have you gotta bring that up like that for?! Stop being such a bitch about it!" Your brother came to your defence she slid back cradeling the toddler smugly. Suddenly any argument brewing was halted by the door bell you shoke your head making to move but moved faster when you heard a loud array of shouts and yells of excitment from the house your eyes bugged out as your older nephews ran out of the back door dragging Henry behind them.

"Look look its Superman! Dad dad look he knows aunty Y/n" Silence fell across the table as the kids made a fuss over Henry who was starting to chuckle nerously.Your brother in law gapped at Henry dropping his fork your brothers wife rose her eyebrows then tilted her head nodding saying 'you did well' Camille was just blinking, she looked broken .

"Oi what have I told you about opening that front door to strangers?" Your brother broke the silence scolding his son david who replied naively.

"But hes not a stranger,  its Superman, hes not bad, he's a good guy." 

"Hey babe turns out I was only 5 away." He chuckled as david watched in awe as 'superman' leaned in and kissed you on the lips then held his hand out to Dean. "Im Henry ,sorry I'm late-" he snapped his head down as david and tyson clambered around him pulling at his top a little

"Oh my god auty y/n are you dateing superman!?!"

"Are is he gonna be our uncle? Are you going to marry her?"

"Can you take me flying? What does it feel like?"  Henry chuckled at the boys as they practically vibrated with excitement. Henry nodded down at the boys

"Well boys we aren't getting married yet but we are dating, but I dont think your mum will like me flying around with you yet, maybe when your older?" they smiled at Henry then continued asking him tonnes of questions soon all of the kids were surronding him you smiled apologetically but he just laughed answering all their questions, playing along for them not wanting to upset them after a few mineuts the excitment died down and they were ushered back to the smaller table to have lunch by their parents, he rubbed the back of your neck quickly reassuring you before stopping near your brother who shrugged.

"Sorry about the kids..."

"Its perfectly fine,I get it all the time ...I'm just happy I've made a good impression on some of y/n family at least, sorry for being late I had to reschedule a few flights and stuff" they shook hands.

"Dean her brother, and don't worry about it works work and its good your serious about it, a better first impression than some" he replied casting your sisters hunsband a look that no one missed as Henry sat down beside you placeing an arm across your shoulders. Kissing the side of your head.

"So you gonna introduce me love?"  He asked motioning around the table everyone Camille release her husbands hand batting at him as he reached out for her thrusting her son at him then placed one hand in her lap and leant over the table holding out her hand as if he should kiss it giving him sultry eyes trying to entice him.

"Im Camille y/n's older sister" she said fluttering her eyelashes at him you tensed knowing what she was doing. Henry grasped her offered hand and shook it. Causing your mum to snort a laugh into her glass and others to chuckle. Camille has done this before, the only other serious relationship you had ended cos of arguments about how he acted with her, tho back then she wasn't married.  Pulling back Henry smiled at her and casually ran his fingers across your lovebite riddled neck, then pulled you in placing another kiss to it making you giggle pushing him away, but he fought a little capturing your hands kissing your palms. You smiled as she clenched the hand he shook into a fist before lowering it beside her plate. Henry was a master of posessive gestures but she had got the message

"Nice to meet you. And this is your husband?" He said politely charming voice. She bristled as she watched him tuck you into his side leaning back watching as her husband shook his hand and started kissing his ass, she slumped back huffing and levled her man with a look making him sit back and let you finish introduceing him to everyone happy that your man had your back.

"So the kids called you Superman? I dont think I've seen your version, I'm sure I'd have remembered seeing you in a tight suit" she dropped her voice and twiddled with her straw her husband gulped

"I have been trying to get you to watch it with me but you said you don't do nerdy shit" he spoke upand you giggled as she gapped flstered, Henry just smirked tugging holding your leg beneath the table patting it softly as you tensed.

"Well thats a shame tho I know that heros aren't evenyones thing, But yes I've played superman in man of steel and soon we will be filming Batman vs Superman so I'm excited for that"  you giggled

"And I for one am definitely looking forward to that" he laughed out loud poking your side

"And I wonder why?" You giggled at him

"Well I'm looking forward to getting the bed to myself for a few weeks" he shook his head

"Like you sleep on the bed? Babe you sleep on top of me I dont think youve touched the mattress...wait scratch that I know you have~" you stuttered as the others rolled their eyes chuckling you slaped his arm lightly as he joined in wriggling his eyebrows at you, you noticed from the side of your eye Camille moved closer to him, leaning over the table fluttering her eyes and squeezing her chest to show off her assets, you cringed biting your lip as he gave her a smile and cleared his throat look then cast his gaze to you, you must have taken his smile as the wrong way as you looked down he sighed moving his hand up your thigh then leaned in to you whispering in your ear

"And this is why you should have let me cum in your panties before you left, it would have been a reminder that you are mine, the only one for me, but I suppose we will just have to remember next time" he parted from your ear with a quick but very noticable nip on your ear lobe you shuddered blushing bright red looking at him bashfully before he plucked a cherry tomato from your plate winking as he popped it in his mouth.

"So your stepping into the role again? can't wait for that?" Your brother in law said enthusiastically Your sister fumed quietly to herself watching as Henry had snubbed her for you, she didn't know what he had said but it was something that made you embarrassed he wiped his mouth with a napkin as he nodded.

"Yeah filming starts in a few months.... now anyway which reminds me babe you need to sort out your passport" you blinked at him

"What? why?" He grinned at you

"Well I know how much you liked the last suit so I did some talking to the director and you my love have been invited on set for a few weeks....So we need to get your passport sorted I was hopeing to take you with me, they said it'd be fine for you to bunk with me and Kal for a few weeks if your up for it" you furrowed your brows

"You told them I like the suit?! You-really Henry?" He gave you a cheeky grin

"Well I didnt say the words but... he knew what I meant" you gave him a look and sighed shaking your head at him, deep down he was a child

"Seriously their okay with that? You wont mind me on set I mean your going to be busy" He smiled nodding quickly

"Yes Id love to have you there, we do that sometimes have our other halves come over to see us work for a while, youll get to see some of the filming and meet the others, we can spend a few nights in a hotel to if you want you know go about town anyway they gave me to okay so think it over" you smiled nodding makingnhim beam at you.

"You should go! I can take the dogs for a few weeks" your mum added snickering at the face your sister pulled as she thumped her glass down. Henry was was trying to make a point you could tell by the way he lathered you with attention more then usual,unable to keep his hands off of you, always kissing or leaning into you as he spoke with the others around the table. He seemed to get on well with everyone, your mum loved him and Dean seemed to like the his banter he fit in well with you all ,so well he was already going on a fishing trip with your brother in a few weeks, you were relaxed you had expected him to get on with your family and he had been ignoring the way your sister was trying desperately trying to flirt with him beautifuly evading all her little tricks and counteracting  all her digs he seemed to get annoyed  and eventually brought up about her wedding again useing the opportunity and switched talking to her husband who was being a right little fanboy asking for an autograph and gushing over him which pissed her off even more the final straw was when the kids got him with their water guns and found themselves casually tossed in the pool one by one by him and dean both shaking their heads they both pulled off their tops. You watched as everyone raised brows at him you licked your lips as your sister in law leaned in

"Your a lucky bitch you know that?" You both giggled

"Trust me it gets better, you want to see his thighs" she scoffed

"Fuck thighs I want to see his cock, details bitch details!"

"Leathal and addictive" You both laughed loud drawing his attention from his conversation with Dean, he raised an eyebrow at youshaking his head when you both became bright red

"I think our women are being cheeky" he smirked as you both blushed and began giggleing again, Camille was sitting drooling over him as he walked around her to the washing line throwing his and deans tshirts over it, he froze frowning when your sister placed a hand on his torso and moved up to his chest firmly.

"Wow so thats what you were hiding beneath all that?" he cleared his throat nodding then batted away her hand sat back down you grunted wanting to smack her one he stopped you kissing your cheek trying to calm you down.

"But then again you'd have to have muscles to move her about with the extra weight she carries" there were gasps and growls from around the table you froze henry growled a little his eye became cold.

"Well I think a woman should be just that...a woman big or small doesn't matter...Tho personally I'm an ass man  and your sisters is fantastic, isn't that right sweetheart?" You flushed as he rounded the table again then scopped you into his lap wrapping his arms around you under your bust making them rise a little

"And these can't forget them either" you giggled as he quickly stole kisses from you once that little ploy failed she was quiet sulking to herself watching as you and henry kept on slowly picking at the food on his plate conversation flowed nicely, that is until camille spoke up again this time going in for the kill.

"So Henry how do you feel about kids?" She asked everyone around the table stopped. Oh shit here we go.

"Camille!" Your mum warned but it was too late Henry smiled at he placing a hand on your thigh.

"Well its early days we haven't discussed it but I'd love to have kids some day and if everything goes according to plan it will be with y/n" you turned to him sharply dreading. He unknowingly walked into your sisters trap. Your heart broke at his admission and he saw it on your face as he glanced at you. In the background you heard your sister gasping.

"Oh no I'm sorry seeing as you were serious I thought you'd spoke to him." She freighned and apologetic look. It took every once of self control not to fly at her over the table.

"Tell me what?" Henry asked befor his eyes widened. Shit. Here it comes again the talk and enevitable break up. You couldn't have kids plain and simple. And no one wanted a young woman who would never be able to give him a child of his own. You gave one last tearfull look to tyour snake of a sister.

"Your a cruel bitch!" then got up leaving the table Henry right behind you as you got in the kitchen. Sitting down at the table you hung your head low hideing your tears as you knew the best thing to happen to you was about to leave.

"I knew this was a stupid idea" you managed between your sobs as you heard angry voices out side you go to move but he stops you. He leant down infront of you making you look at him.

"Hey it wasn't,no dont worry about them...Come on baby look at me." You shook your head befor quickly having him tuck you into his chest rocking you lightly calming you down. You hugged him tight trying to savour the last little comfort he was going to give you.

"Sweetheart I'm sorry its something we should have talked about Before starting to have sex huh?" He said kissing your head as he tilted your face to look at him smoothing your hair wiping your tears away with his thumb, reaching over you he tore off some kitchen roll before dabbing yout face with it and handing it to you as you unwound your arms from his waist feeling the cold prickles of dread in your stomach. Taking a deep shakey breath you steeled yourself for what was to come. He leaned against the table beside you waiting patiently.

"I.. she did this on purpose Henry love....I love you...B-but I can't have kids, well Its very unlikley....They said its nearly impossible.....I'm sorry so sorry...Youd make a great dad and I want you to know I understand....If its something you really want then we should cut our losses now befor-" you jumped as he growled gripping your chin forcing you to meet his gaze, he was stern, upset and angry. "You are not leaving me. Not over this. I meant what I said in the garden I'd love to have a family someday and if we can't have children of out own then there are other options. God knows that there are hundreds of children in the system that are waiting for loving homes to be adopted into and if we really want to go through the whole nine yards then we can have a surrogate." You gaped at him shaking your head

"Wh-what you dont understand I cant- Im not a true woman! I'm never going to give you-"

"Enough! I dont ever want to hear you say that again! A true woman , of coures you are! Your mine and who cares we can have kids other ways...Children do not make you a true woman or not I love you and we can find a way if we want our own... I suppose Camille  put that stupid thought in your head?"

"Shes right what kind of woman cant-Im broken Henry! How can you be okay with this?" You shrugged unable to continue as you began trying to fighr back sobs still not believing he would stay. He deserves a happy home full of love and family.

"I dont care love" he grabbed you shaking your shoulders a little desperate for you to look him in the eye

"I dont care I fell in love with you, not for the fact you could give me children or not, but your kind and funny and...your my soul mate I.Love.you dont you understand that, I want you no one else and this will make us stonger, you are perfect and you are not broken you my better half and my woman... My stunning, perfect woman Y/n and we are not over,I'm not leaving you and you are certainly not leaving me not over this" you sniffled still confused not fully understanding what was going on. 'Why is he saying this? Why hasn't he left? The others did' you frowned at him

"Wh-what? No yo-you should be angry...Leaving...no one wants a young woman who can't give them children of their own" You mumbled confused at him he sighed again befor loweing down to eye level releasing his grip on your chin and carassed your face lightly you shuddered leaning into him.

"Sweetheart in case you havent realised children isn't the be all and end all for me, we can find another way later down the line, besides you said its very unlikely not impossible and if we decided to try for kids you can bet your ass I will be fucking you full every chance I get! Fuck I might even tie you to the bed for a week or so and that my love is a promise and a threat.. .Really this is my fault we should have spoke about this before starting to have sex I was a little to eager in that respect." You blushed remebering just how eager he was not that he was the only one. He kissed your cheek.

"I love you, so much and I'm planning on being with you for as long as you can stand me" he said before kissing you passionatly pulling you up and sitting you on the table standing between your parted knees he pulled away. 

"You really don't have a problem with it?" He shook his head before attaching himself to you again tangeling tongues holding you tightly against his chest trying to pour all his feelings into you.

"Problem? With the enevitable fuck fest? Babe I'm a man. And like I said if that doesn't work we have options" you smiled tugging him back down giving him a tender kiss that got deeper as he pulled ou forward you heard someone clear their throat making you jump away. Peering around Henry you saw dean standing at the door arms folded you flushed and shrunk.

"So I take it by the way your sucking on my baby sister theres no need for me to,kick the shit outta you?" He asked casually Henry chuckled squeezing your hips holding you still as you tried to shimmy off the table around him.

"No sir, got it all straightened out. Haven't we babe?" You nodded sheepishly

"Good cos I don't feel like having my ass handed to me in front of my own kids...I mean I know I wouldn't win but I'd have to try...being that little twats older brother and all" you smiled at him Henry laughed

"Trust me we are good, just needed to clear the air, you know how she gets always thinking the worst,  a habbit I'm slowly breaking" Dean nodded smileing as you was tucked up in Henry's arm's as he pulled you from the table all three of you snapped your head to the door as you heard a loud cry then heels stomping into the kitchen from the garden, camille was clutching her face supporting a bloodied nose she sneared at you venomously

"Well I hope your fucking happy! Walking in here thinking your better than everyone! He probably isn't even with you! A fucking look alike escort pathetic!" You grit your teeth

"What's pathetic is a fucking married woman jealous of her baby sister! Grow up for fuck sake you are not gods gift! god sake just threw yourself at my boyfriend infront of your whole family including your husband and son" she took a step back looking for a quick escape, you'd never stood up to her like this before.

"You spent years trying to knock me down and for what? Jealousy hatred you know I don't know what I've done you make you hate me but I'm sick of trying to make it up to you, from now on you can go fuck yourself, I spent years looking up to you, wanting what you had but now I see you never had anything not really, it was always someone elses man, someone elses baby to fawn over ,your other halfs cars you had fuck all yourself and now what you've got isn't fucking worth having so you have to make yourself feel better by stomping all over me the first time I've seen it clear as day your fucking jealous!" She sniffed blinking stunned that you snapped back, you pointed at her face ignoring the way Henry moved to pull you back if you start swinging.

"I've had it, don't ever talk to me again, ever and I truly mean that, we. are. done." She took another step back shocked before screeching.

"What?"

"I mean it, this is the last straw for me, we're done I'm done you tried to sabotage the best thing thats ever happened to me because you hate the idea of me somehow out doing you. Fuck you. As far as I'm concered I have no sister" she looked upset and went to touch you but you flinched away.

"Y/n you can't mean-"

"Your a toxic and childish person Camille, come back when you grow up until then stay the fuck away" she tried blinking back tears, she never expected for you to cut her out of your life, it hurt deep she looked down then quickly made her way past you through the kitchen her husband carrying their toddler behind her looking thoughrly embarassed

"Y/n I'm really sorry-"

"Fuck off, your just as bad! You were made for each other" he sighed glancing at the others in the room before following her out seconds later the front door slammed shut so hard it shook the interior walls. You and dean shared a look turning as your mum who had been by the back door watching walked into the kitched going over to the sink she turnt on the tap running her hand under cold water.

"I don't think we will see her for a while." She said quietly as she stopped the tap "Henry could you pass me the kitchen roll please" he did as he was asked. Dean spoke up in disbelief.

"Did you just smack her?" She shook her head

"No no of course not, you should know by now I punch, that was way out of line and she knew it, then she started mouthing off to me when I told her some home truths having the audacity to try and turn it around playing the victim I've had enough of her shit stirring in this family." You mother said as she placed the kitchen roll on her red knuckles. Dean scoffed out a laugh

"Fucking typical the one time she gets what she deserves and I fucking miss it." You giggle a little. Yeah it was typical. Your mum aproached Henry.

"Im sorry you had to see that ,its not usually this bad... but this was coming for a long time, I don't know whats up with that girl but she doesn't think anyone but her has the right to be happy, everything is a competition , shes spent years putting y/n down and it must have really boiled her piss that y/n has found happiness with a handsome successful man ,she has to be top dog today she learnt she isnt. Henry I can't thank you enough for giving Y/n the confidence she needed to snap back, I've watched that girl tear y/n apart for years and none of us could give her the boost she needed to sort it out but you did." Your mother explained. Henry smiled down at you kissing your head .

"No need to apologise or thank me, y/n warned me but I thought she may have exaggerated, I was caught off gaurd and that was my fault... And we never spoke about children...if we do want them in the future we will find a way" He said sheepishly before pulling you towards him you smiled as he wrapped his arm around you keeping you as close to him as possible. It was then that david came running in. 

"Dad can we have cake now?" Dean nodded to him and ushered you all out into the garden for cake henry sat and dragged you onto his lap kissing the back of your neck lightly as you both dug into your cake.

"You ok now love?" You nodded leaning back on his chest finishing your mouthfull then reaching up you kissed under his jaw.

"Yeah I'm perfect." He ran his nose along the shell of your ear.

"Really? you've had a stressfull day, I think I might have to help you de-stress once we get home." He whispered heatedly you laughed at him as he ran his nose along your neck biting softly.

"Oi loverboy back up thats my baby sister." Dean said waving a fork at you both Henry pulled back a little with a cheeky grin.

"Yes sir, we will keep it pg....untill we get to the car" Dean laughed as the blushed slapping his arm

"Henry no!" He grinned before trapping you in a bear hug shouting

"Henry yes!" Before sucking on your neck making you wriggle trying to squirm away as everyone laughed watching your antics, finally he stopped and kissed your cheek before you both relaxed watching the kids run around hyped on sugar, you leaned back against him as he hummed into the back of your neck giving a quick kiss.That was when it really sunk in that he was still here. He still wanted you. Tears welled in your eyes as you realised it was all going to be ok. You tucked your head in his neck hiding your tears of relief.

"I love you." You mumbled into his chest he wrapped his arm around you tighter resting his face in your hair.

"I love you too" ending with a kiss on your hair looking up he saw your mum and brother looking at him  questioning what was going on he mouthed 'relief' you them and they nodded in understanding as you snuggled into him more.

[tyunniverse]

TXT x DISNEY Halloween Shorts 🎃 (1/5)

pairing: ot5 x reader

genre: fluff, college au

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: there's a halloween event at your uni and a few students are in the mood for misfit.

yeonjun | soobin | beomgyu | taehyun | hueningkai

YEONJUN | Tangled (1.8k)

A cloud of dust flurries around the room the moment you set one of the boxes down the floor, making you sneeze. You half expected the theatre storage room to be cleaner this time of the year due to the frequent visits and rummaging of the other students, but that sadly wasn't the case.

Your class was one of the few that had a small reenactment planned for tonight's event and you were doing Tangled. Your class president's request to gather the props and costumes needed for tonight was no match for the excitement you felt when you'd been granted to play the role of your favorite character, Rapunzel. You just didn't expect the place to look like it hadn't been cared for in years, and the props and costumes to be as heavy as they are. A little help would be nice right now.

The door creaks and you quickly turn around, sighing in relief when you saw the the chair still pressed against the old door . Your class president had warned you about the door's broken knob. The thing can only be opened from the outside, and once you get shut in, you can only hope for someone to notice and get you out. Unless, of course, you're willing to face the consequences for breaking school property.

You exercised a little caution upon entering earlier, blocking the door from accidentally closing. You check the time on the clock. The play was going to start in an hour or so and luckily you were already in costume, so that's one less problem. All you needed to do now was gather the last box of costumes and you were out. The box was placed at the far end of the room so you make your way there, carefully maneuvering around the dusty cabinets and compartments as to not soil your costume.

Another creak echoes in the room and you paid it no mind, crouching down to check the contents of each box. The chair you placed there was pretty heavy, and it'd take more than the wind to push it away. You continue to check the boxes until you hear another creak and the sound of the door slamming shut.

You frantically stood up and felt the life of you being drained out as you see the door closely shut and a familiar pink hair sticking out from the other side of the cabinets.

"Oof, the winds sure are strong this time of year." You hear the person chuckle to himself and you knew all too well who it was.

You scramble your way towards the front, fuming. "Yeonjun, what the fuck?!"

"Holy—" Yeonjun jumps, clutching his chest. "Y/N?! What the hell was that for?! You scared me." He huffs, trying to calm himself down.

You glare up at him. "Do you even know what you just did?!"

Yeonjun sighs, holding his arms up. "Yes, I know, I know. I shouldn't have entered the storage room, but listen—"

"No, you listen. Do you seriously not know what you just did?" You snap.

Yeonjun gives you a confused look. "Huh? You're not talking abour me coming inside the storage room?" He cocks his head to the side when you don't answer. Poor guy felt like he was in the middle of an interrogation. He was starting to feel uncomfortable with how pissed you looked so he turns toward the door. "Look, if you're not gonna answer me then I'll just come back when you're done and—"

"Oh." Yeonjun tries twisting the doorknob again. "Haha, is this thing broken?" He laughs it off, now facing you. "You have a key right?"

Silence.

"If the key works then I wouldn't be mad right now, Yeonjun." You tell him and the gears in his mind finally click. He just locked you both in.

An idea lights up in his head and he starts searching through his pockets. "Wait, I think I have my phone with— wait, wait— yeah, no." He chuckles nervously, eyes slowly meeting yours. "You don't happen to have your phone, do you?"

"Yeah, well that's exactly why I'm here." Yeonjun sits down on top one of the boxes. "I have to dress up as the Beast and hand out flyers later but it's at the same time as Kai's performance and you know I wouldn't miss it for the world. Plus, he threatened me if I don't show up, so I got someone to switch with me."

You raise a brow, crossing your arms. "That doesn't explain why you're here though."

"Rapunzel didn't exactly have any pockets in her outfit, Yeonjun." You give your costume a quick patting. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought your department was doing this whole Beauty and the Beast themed buffet."

"I'm getting there." Yeonjun winks or at least tries to. "We have a lot of time anyway."

"Speak for yourself." You throw a dusty old rag at him and he coughs after it hits his face. "Our play starts in an hour and I have to get these costumes to them in 10 minutes. And now we're both stuck here because of you."

"Alright, I'll cut to the chase! Let's make a deal."

You throw another rag at him and he catches it, throwing it to the ground. You huff, "You're not exactly in the position to make deals, Yeonjun. You got us into this mess."

"Well, you're not in the position to decline either since we're both stuck here." Yeonjun smirks, standing up. "Look, one of my seniors is in charge of handing us our costumes and he won't be arriving for another hour. I have to get the costume myself so I can hand it to my substitute but I can't do that when my senior's keeping an eye on me. So here's the thing," He walks over to the Beast's costume that was hung up along with a few others. "You let me take this costume and swear you won't tell anyone about it. If someone from the theatre approaches you later asking about the costume, you say you don't know anything. In return, I'll get us out of here ASAP."

You stare back at him in annoyance. As much as you'd like to rat on him as usual, you were one of Kai's closest friends and unfortunately, Yeonjun was also a friend of his, hence why you knew each other. Kai at least needed one of his friends to be there for his performance and it certainly wouldn't be you. He had told you after you'd been chosen as Rapunzel and you both understood that you had your own things going on at the same time so it's fine. You still planned on making it until his last song though.

"Fine. I'm only doing this for Kai and the fact that I'm desperate to get out of here." You agree to the compromise and Yeonjun grins. "But the moment I'll get in trouble for being caught lying, you don't even wanna imagine what I'll do to you."

"Works for me." Yeonjun reaches out his hand and you two shake on it. "Now, I'm gonna need your wig."

"What? No." Your hands instinctively rope in Rapunzel's long ass wig. "It took me nearly 30 minutes to prepare this."

"Fine, then you'll have to do it yourself." Yeonjun walks over to the small window placed up high on the wall. "There's a lot of people down there but I doubt they'll hear us screaming from the third floor. Instead," He grins, pointing at your wig. "You're gonna stick your arm out with the wig and twirl it around to get their attention."

His idea was the dumbest thing you'd heard that day but it actually might be dumb enough to work. You were pretty desperate already. What's a little wig sacrifice? "Fine." You sigh, approaching him. "Hand me the chair."

"Can't." Yeonjun shakes his head. "I moved it outside."

You frown. "How am I supposed to get up there, then? None of these boxes can hold my weight."

Yeonjun chuckles as he opens his arms. "Don't worry, I'll hold you up."

Your feel your face heat up at his suggestion. The room suddenly felt a bit stuffier than it had been a moment ago and you wish you didn't have to be in this situation. "Be careful with the dress."

"Sure, sure." Yeonjun coos, moving in closer to scoop you up.

The two of you struggle for a while to balance yourselves. Yeonjun had his arms wrapped around your legs as he hoisted you up, and you quickly gather the rest of your wig and toss the length through the window.

"Start twirling it around!"

You do as he says and starts twirling the wig around like a madman.

"Start screaming! HEE— ah wait, HEEELP!!"

You giggle when his voice cracked in the middle. "HELP!!"

A crowd gathers on the ground, marvelling at the sight of a spinning wig from the third floor. A few students heard your screams and sent someone up there to rescue you. Luckily, it wasn't the senior that Yeonjun had told you about so she left the two of you to sort things out on your own after opening the door. It still baffles you how his plan even worked to begin.

The clock catches your attention, reminding you of your tight deadline. You quickly gather the boxes of props and costumes you'd prepared earlier and made a quick stop at where Yeonjun was. "I have to go." You tell him.

"Yeah, me too." Yeonjun flashes you a smile but the duffle bag he was holding doesn't go unnoticed. He follows your line of sight and chuckles when he sees you were staring at the bag. "A deal's a deal. Don't worry too much about it, we won't get caught." He attempts another wink, and this time it actually works.

"Bye then." You nod, not wanting to waste anymore time.

"Wait!" Yeonjun holds on to your wrist and you turn around, meeting his gaze. "Good luck."

"Yeah, we both know that's not what you want to say." You grin.

"You're gonna try to show up later right?" Yeonjun smirks. "I'll save you a seat next to me."

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-One [PT. 1]

A/N: Part 2 coming tomorrow.

Words:3k

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of miscarriage, sexual situations

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NIKKI

I stare down at the small, black and white pictures of seemingly nothing except a tiny, tiny little blob, except for one picture which is marked with “4 months” on the back, February 14th, 1986, in white marker in Vivs’s handwriting, one picture out of seven, each with dates…she doesn’t say a word to me, and she didn’t before she handed them over. She just chunked them in my lap and went from there.

I don’t know what to ask, because I don’t know what to say.

“Are these…?” I finally get out, looking at her.

She’s got tears in her eyes, and it slowly starts sinking in.

These are fucking kids--well, tiny little embryo kids, or whatever.

“These are your’s?” I ask next and she nods.

When the hell was she ever fucking pregnant?

I check the dates again…

1983.

1984.

1984.

1985.

1986.

1986...the back of it says “twins.”

“Where was I when all of this was happening?” I ask her, and she licks her lips and breathes out.

“I don’t know, Nikki, where were you?” She replies lowly.

I look at her for a moment, trying to decide if she’s serious or not.

Then she digs in her purse and pulls out a paper, unfolding it before going through the list of dates assigned to each ultrasound image, reciting to me--in my own words from diaries--my whereabouts around the time she lost each one.

I take it that she’s already skimmed through a diary or two already.

I get angrier and angrier with each line, shaking by the time she starts on, “1986--you were unconscious while me and Andy McCoy were trying to resuscit--”

I throw the pictures and they all split from each other and scatter around her, cutting her short.

“None of this is my fault, Vivian!” I scream at her, my heart feeling as though it’s rotting behind my ribs. “I didn’t fucking know!”

“How could you fucking know when you were so damn hig--”

“You came home in ‘83, from that appointment and told me it was a false-positive test and you had just gained a little weight. I wasn’t on smack in July of 1983. In fact, I went a little while on just Tylenol and beer while I was tampering off my heavy meds the doctor prescribed for my shoulder. So you could have fucking told me then what the fuck was happening, instead of shutting down and shutting me out for three goddamn months!” I’m crying without realizing it until hot tears prick down my cheeks, my skin uncomfortable as my nerves singe from my boiling blood. “I loved you, I had just married you for Christ sake--I was happy and excited to be at that point with you and you fucking left me for three months! You’d barely let me touch you, you wouldn’t come out of our room, you wouldn’t wanna go out, I’d sleep on the fucking couch or crash at Robbins or Tommy’s because you’d tell me you just wanted to be alone, and all along I thought it was my fault because I went to that fucking party with Tommy instead of staying with you the night of our wedding and you were just making me pay...and then when you were put on medication I thought it was my fault, too, because I thought you’d figured out I was tampering with smack, and I just…” I’m up and pacing, hands in my hair…

Amber doesn’t say a word.

I think Viv broke her, too, because she looks like she’s trying to find the right thing to say.

Maybe she’s hoping we can talk this one out on our own.

But I don’t want to talk anything out.

Not right now.

“I didn’t tell you about them because I was scared you would cope with the pain the same way you’d coped with pain for years. I was afraid you’d drink and drug yourself and leave me to deal with it by myself, and I didn’t want to put that on you, so I just dealt with it myself.” Vivian admits, her voice cracking.

“Vivian, you haven’t dealt with it, though.” Amber quietly interjects, softly. “You haven’t dealt with it. You haven’t allowed yourself to heal.”

“When were you going to tell me about this?” I shakily ask, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat.

“When you died.” She says next, honestly, her tone a dead giveaway that it’s not something she’s proud of, but it’s the truth. “I was just gonna bury the pictures with you, just in case you had random kids coming up to you in the next life, you’d know who they were, I guess.”

I feel sick to my stomach at the confession, my whole body repulsed with the fact that she’s managed to hide this the past four years.

“Nikki, if you need to take a break, we can,” Amber assures me.

I’m getting the fuck out of there as fast as I can, just desperate to get some air that Vivian isn’t breathing her demoness presence into, and the second I get free, I'm puking my guts up in the hallway. 

I know I had a reason to be angry with her, she hid that from me, like I'd hid so much from her. She thought she was protecting me, though, and I just didn't want her to leave me because I was a pussy and a piece of shit--and I knew it. 

I was more pissed at myself, though, because I knew I'd put her in the position to feel like she couldn't come to me and tell me she was pregnant, let alone had lost it, even before I was on smack. 

She knew how I handled shit--either drink, do whatever drug was accessible, or both. 

When heroin and crack entered the picture, that just cemented her will not to tell me about it. 

I think the biggest elephant in the room, though, despite her being pregnant with Duff's baby at that point, and me and my thing with Vanity and all the other women, and her hidden pregnancies, was the fact she never wanted to get married to me that fast, and I knew it. 

I knew it the day we got married that she didn't really want to, she was just trying to make me happy, and I fucking let her do it because I was so terrified that I was going to lose her if I didn't go as far as I could to secure her to me. 

The amount of unnecessary bullshit she could've bypassed had I just taken a step back and told her we didn't have to get married if she didn't want to...I often times think it would've saved her a lot of heartbreak. We could've broken up when shit hit the fan with smack in '84, I still would've lived through my bad OD in '87,  probably, and we could've gotten back together when I cleaned my shit up--that is if she would've waited for me...and that's why I didn't let up. Because "if she waited" wasn't good enough. I didn't want "if." 

I wanted her. 

So I married her, knowing she didn't want to, and instead of proving her wrong and giving her a relationship to question why she ever second guessed vowing an eternity together with me, I put her through hell, treated her like shit, abused her, endured her abuse, wasted each other's time, hurt each other, ruined each other more and more than what we were when we got into the relationship. 

And that was my first indiscretion against her. 

Marrying her knowing she wasn't ready.

By the time I finish puking, I'm leaning against the wall, taking deep breaths, hearing Vivian crying, still in Amber's office. 

I squeeze my eyes closed, my palms roughly wipe my stray tears. 

Despite being sober, the little fuck that is Sikki is trying to claw out of the box I've put him in for over a month, now. 

Just the faintest, "leave her," echoes in my mind. 

"Fuck you." I audibly tell him. 

"She never wanted to be with you in the first place. Why do you think her body refused to carry your fucking kids? Because she hates you so much that it'd be an abomination to have your little hell rats." 

"Fuck off." I argue, again. 

"And just think about it. The timing of this one she's got now...she was getting her brains screwed backwards right next door to you while you were keeling over. It was like she knew what was about to happen and she was celebrating the fact she wouldn't have to fucking deal with your shit ever again." He taunts, getting more and more of his scraggly hand out of the box, the lid cracking open to reveal his white, sallow skin and dark eyes. 

"Fuck off." I gritt out once more. 

"What's wrong? You don't think she'd do that? After all the times you've admitted she's an evil bitch from the pit fires of hell? Because I think she'd do it. In fact, I bet she'd stare your overdosing carcass in the eyes, screaming out his name in ecstasy, while dripping cum at the mere fact you were dying." 

I slam the lid of the box back down, crushing his boney, track riddled fingers, making him curse me. 

I refuse to listen to his bullshit anymore. 

Vivian loves me. She wants to be with me. She'd be gone by now if she didn't, and I wouldn't blame her. 

1 9 8 1

"Ummm…" I trail off, watching her closely, lickikg my lips, my hand grabbing at the curve of her hip over the comforter she's got pulled up to her chest, her head in the crook of my elbow, looking up at me, awaiting my answer. "...I don't know." I say, honestly. 

"As theological as you are and you can't tell me whether or not you think Aliens are real?" She asks and I roll my eyes. 

"I don't know, miss honor roll, you tell me." I counter and she grins. 

"I think the universe is too big for it to just be us." She informs me. 

"Ah, says the one who also believes a heaven and a God exists within the same wide range of universe." I reply and she hits my bare chest with the back of her hand, gently. 

"Shut up." She says, shaking her head a little. "Is it not reasonable to think there's more than just us?" 

I think about it for a moment. 

"I wouldn't be surprised if aliens are real, I wouldn't be surprised if they weren't." I admit, rubbing my eye for a second. 

"What about God?" She asks next and I try not to laugh in her face. 

"I'm almost one hundred percent sure that God doesn't exist." I state. 

"How do you know?" She says, blinking emerald greens at me, as if what I'm about to say about her imaginary friend she's been brainwashed into believing in, is going to make or break her.

"I'm not sure, baby, I just think...fine, tell you what, I wouldn't be surprised if God were real, and I wouldn't be surprised if he weren't real." I give her the benefit of the doubt. 

"I'd be surprised if he weren't." She tells me. 

"Yeah? Well, how do you know he is real?" I question her, next, a teasing smile on my lips. 

"I don't know, you can't see him or hear his voice audibly, but you can feel him." She explains the best she can and I raise my brows. 

"You can feel God?"

"Well, yeah." She replies, her finger tracing along the few bits of chest hair I've got and I lick my lips for a second before leaning down, kissing her. 

"What about now?" I ask, grinning as my hand pushes away at the covers over her to run against the smooth skin of her thigh and she smiles just a little before pressing her lips to mine, one of her hands threading in my hair with her other arm snakes around me, pulling me on top of her and I chuckle lowly, nestling between her legs while we get hot and heavy with our tongues and teeth.

Both of us let out satisfied breaths when I slide into her, her eyes fluttering closed, brows furrowed slightly, head leaning back as her nails bite into my arms. 

I pat myself on the back and trail hot, wet, sloppy kisses along her clavicle before pulling out of her again, a little shudder going up my back from the tight, soaking heat between her legs. 

When I start building a slow but hard rhythm, her legs are locking at the base of my spine, her arms hugging at my back, pulling me to her as, "Nikki," slips from her lips. 

"What about now?" I ask in her ear as I force myself as deep into her as her body will let me, and she whimpers out, "yes."

A sadistic little pat to my ego causes a pull at my lips, my hand wrapping around her throat as I stare down at her, her nails clawing down my back, tears in her eyes as I thrust back into her…

I kiss at her lips, her cheek, her jaw, moving my hand from her throat to kiss her neck and I swear I hear the faintest, barely inaudible whisper of, "I love you," but decide I'm just hearing things...

Present

I squeeze my eyes shut, the smell of my puke wafting in my face, making me take several steps back to catch my breath. 

It's hard to swallow the fact that I really let myself be convinced for so long that I'd let her fuck my life up, to the extent of blaming her for my life actually being fucked up.

"Fuck." I curse at myself, raking my hands down my face. 

How the fuck am I going to make this right with her? 

How the fuck is she going to make this right with me? 

She's pregnant, with Duff's kid or whatever, and then BAM! just drops this shit on me that she's actually been pregnant multiple times from me and never mentioned losing any of them to me. 

I know it's my fault that she didn't tell me. I know it is. Am I going to admit that to her? Fuck no. Am I hurt over her not telling me anyway? Yeah, I am. 

If I wasn't in sobriety penitentiary, I'd probably be out and about trying to find something to numb and distract me…

I don't know what to do. 

But I do know one thing for sure: I'm not in love with her anymore, but I love her, and I'm pretty sure she feels the same exact way about me...but it's not like we can't get back to that place we were in when we first got together, it's just gonna take some work...a lot of work.

I huff out a breath, taking a moment to get my shit together, mentally. 

Do I go back in there and finish out today or just try again next week? 

I think on it for a minute…

"Fuck it." I say out, shakily, weakly, tears break past my lash line once again, 

a far cry from that tough motherfucker I swore I was for years. "Just fuck it."

Fuck this.

Fuck her.

And fuck me.

[sainadazai]

Chapter 2

There was a certain essence of security in the fact that one kid would be sent home today, still there was a horrible feeling inside you that you'd be the one leaving.

There was no reason for you to fail, Mr.Aizawa didn't seem to be singling anyone out, though.

That alone made you nervous, if he didn't have someone specific in mind, then it was free reign whoever would be booted at the end of the day.

Bakugou threw a softball more than seven hundred meters, you were sure your primary school record was less than 30 meters. With your quirk you didn't need dense muscle, it required lean muscle and mostly on your back.

Manipulating the state of matter in metal wasn't really difficult, but lifting it with your mind was.

Even more, it was especially hard to keep it in its semi-liquid state while you manipulate it. Cause many people have conjuring quirks, hell probably somebody in this class had a quirk that could make things, yours was just also limited to one specific material.

It took a long time to perfect your own unique fighting style. You didn't wanna be like cementoss, or Best jeanist, although they were great heroes.

Being a carbon copy of a hero that already has existed served no joy to you, you were y/n, and that's who the world oughta know.

Was that really gonna help you now, though? What were these eight tests he was talking about?

test one: 50 meter dash

Should be easy enough, why use your quirk on something you already excelled in during school. Y/n L/n - 100 meter dash - 12.67 seconds. It couldn't be hard to half that at least, maybe even quarter it, you wouldn't use your quirk here.

You really need to stop underestimating people, in your heat, the first at that, were Tenya Iida and Tsuyu Asui. The boy was well built, muscular, tall and his legs seemed to have engines in them. He was sure not a good match to make you seem strong or fast.

The girl had long, green hair and beautiful round eyes, she seemed to have some sort of frog hybrid quirk. Probably much faster than you as well. Not really the best time to second guess yourself, you already assessed this test. No quirk. Don't waste your energy.

Ugh, but shouldn't heroes go a hundred percent all the time? God this was infuriating.

"Go"

Well, there you have it, first day and you're already overthinking. Without letting your worry get to you, you sprinted towards the speedometer hoping you wouldn't get discouraged by the fast boy in front of you. The air flowed against you, pushing your hair back. You had forgotten about the tension air creates when you run against it, but it didn't matter. As quickly as it started you heard Iida's score, the Asui's, but you knew 50 meters was easy. You knew you were fast even without your quirk, you would prove it.

"6 seconds"

"Without a quirk?"

"What even is her quirk?"

"I don't know, she wasn't in my exam."

The others after you seemed to be faster than you too, even if by seconds. However, it was helpful to learn exactly what their quirks were.

Uraraka- zero gravity

Iida- engine

Bakugou-explosion

Knowing all this made you unique compared to them, because now, you know their quirks and how they work for the most part, but only a few even can guess yours. Maybe it won't help you too much now, but in the future this knowledge will.

Test two: Grip strength

Easy, this can be done without even touching that little machine, but sure, you'd give me a show.

"Woah, you hit 500 kilograms?! You're such a beast"

The boy with extra arms seemed to do well on this, you could obviously guess why. Still, you had no fear at all in this test. What were they thinking putting an object entirely made of metal and wires in your hand? Rigged in your favor to be honest.

You took the contraption in your hand, avoiding the eyes of the few watching you to see what your quirk was. Jokes on them, cause with this test, it'd take a genius to tell. Applying a decent amount of pressure from your hand, you began to feel all of the particles in the tiny machine, moving them closer and closer together. Pushing them down with each breath out. Until the machine beeped.

12,000kg

You almost smirked at that, you technically didn't have that much plain grip strength, but the teacher said use your quirk, anything goes.

"Twelve thousand!? No way!" the yellow haired boy spoke with astonishment, not anger, but the words felt accusing,

"sorry.."

The students were left dumbfounded. However, at the mention of such a high number, todoroki began to seek out your face, he recognised the girl who had tried to speak with him earlier. Looking at the floor and avoiding the quite obvious compliments, he couldn't help but feel it wasn't out of modesty.

Test three: Standing long jump

The ring on your finger would serve well enough for this one, removing it, you liquified the metal ring until it was a non-Newtonian liquid- or a liquid that is solid under pressure. It soon multiplied until it was around a foot high line of liquid metal, then you curled it into a spring shape. Jumping straight up you landed both feet on the outer edge of the spring and flew into the air launching it with you and quickly turning it back into a tiny ring around your pinky finger.

Then apologizing again as more questions floated in.

Next was repeated side steps, then ball throws. By then, the other students had acknowledged the uncomfort you seemed to have around them, and only admired from afar.

To others the ball throw seemed like the most important test, but it didn't really feel like that to you. Despite having some restraint, you wanted to be the best in every test. Well, maybe not this one, after the gravity girl sent a ball to infinity.

Still, you held the softball, all eyes on you, not feeling so shy, considering you knew these were supposed to be your friends, you wanted them to like you, more than anything. So you would just have to woman up soon.

You tossed the ball to yourself a couple times, feeling for any metal particles, baseballs were usually full of string on the inside, maybe that would work? No, too risky for now.

Feeling pressure to hurry, you took a quick glance around, locking eyes with the boy who sits by you. He still was stone faced, but looked a little intrigued to see what you would do. Was he curious about you? He was so strong though, you'd seen it earlier. Well, best live up to expectations.

No luck with metal in the ball, but there was plenty all around you: iron in your blood. Taking your pointer fingernail, you scratched a quick cut on your opposite palm, maintaining eye contact with the boy. His stiffness faltered for a second, confused and maybe worried at your actions.

Quickly you dragged your blood out of the cut in a thin, rope-like flow, wrapped it around the ball, and took a deep breath. Then you closed your eyes, just how you taught yourself to, and imagined the blood pulling the ball into the air. Arm swung back and ready you released the image along with a throw high into the air.

Continuing to focus on where your blood would take it, you imagine not a place, but a number, and a force. Applying that force to the blood and ball, long lost in the sky, you finally sighed out and looked around, waiting for a score.

Your peers seemed confused about what had just happened, all except for the red and white haired boy, he seemed to have caught on to some extent.

"1,609 meters"

"A mile, exactly? How?"

"Your blood? That doesn't match up with everything else you've done today!" A girl with recognizably large breasts and thighs spoke, she was gorgeous. Hair tied up in a black ponytail, and even her voice sounded sophisticated.

"Uhm-"

"If you say sorry one more time i'm gonna blast you to space, ya hear me!?"

The fire boy, Bakugou screamed at you, and you would have been scared, but it actually made you feel comforted. The realization that people here were not asking for your apologies.

"Yes sir." you winked.

Why did you wink? Did you forget you weren't talking to mochi? A yellow haired boy, whose name you thought was denki turned red and fainted. You felt incredibly stupid, and flustered, and mad at yourself for slipping like that.

"AAAaaa im so sorry, pleaseforgivmeidontknowwhatiwasthinkingwinkingayoulikehatwhenyoubarelyknowmeohnopleasedonthatemenowimsorryimsorrymochiwillyellatmelater!" you screeched out, falling subject to your now loose personality.

Then you went to hide among the crowd of them, slowly shrinking in on yourself.

The next one up was the green haired boy, Deku? That's what bakugou called him, right? You didn't know you were standing next to shouto todoroki, but he sure knew he was standing next to you.

He wanted to confirm his suspicions about your quirk, and also he subconsciously wanted to know what a conversation with you would be like. You didn't seem too eccentric, or obnoxious like some of the kids here. Plus for some reason you were flustered at any and everything,and well, it was stupidly adorable.

Todoroki shouldn't be thinking these things, but he is. On the first day of school no less.

It seems, though, you weren't the star of the show today. He tore his eyes from you at the sound of your gasp. The boy who hasn't used a quirk all day had thrown the softball barely a few meters. So how did he get in? He seemed nice enough, but it sparked the question, how would someone quirkless make it to the hero course?

Or maybe he wasn't, it seemed, the teacher had nullified whatever quirk he tried to use. They were talking for quite some time, until Mr.Aizawa removed his restraint on the kids quirk and he was left to throw.

His lips pursed, deep in thought. Deku really had to get this one right. There may not be a better place to apply his gifted quirk. He really didnt wanna go home, either, so this was it.

Blinking, he thrust his hand back and before you could process what was happening an incredible force of wind flew back on you. The ball launched high into the air, a trail of pure power following it. You didn't take your eyes off that ball until it dropped. A puff of dirt flying up around it.

705.3

So you looked back to the boy, eyes wide just like everyone else, and your eyes found a bloodied purple finger. Broken in every sense of the word. Deku, though, was smiling, the brightest smile you'd ever seen. Proud. He was proud of himself. What could you be but proud of him, too?

You'd known him less than a day, spoken to him all but once, but his smile was pure. You used to smile like that when you were working out your quirk in the forest behind school. It was beautiful.

"Awesome.." you whispered through a smile clad lips.

Teeth white and shining under the sun, and todoroki heard you. Even looked down(or up) at you. He wanted to see that smile again from you, and for the love of god he couldn't tell himself why....

A/n this isn't a deku fic but I love him, and it IS his show, so- don't be surprised if i write about him like he is the most precious gorgeous blessing on earth.