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lazysimp · 3 years

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Dark Clouds (+18) /// Shoto x Male Reader

Click HERE to read the Fem version

Rating: Explicit 18+ Only Minors DNI

Summary: You love Shoto more than anything but what if you were the only thing standing in between him and his dreams? Smut+Angst

A prequel to Cloud Nine.

Word count: 3k+

Warnings/tags: Angst, Blackmail, Morning Sex, Breakup, Soft Dom Shoto, Praise, Explicit sexual content, Oral sex (receiving), He/Him pronouns, All characters are adults.

masterlist┃AO3

“Oh fuck Shoto! Please just a little more,” You beg, your back arching off the bed as you push his head down. Your fiancé had made it a habit to wake you up with his mouth on your cock, licking up your cum like it was his last meal.

After living together for a month you thought he would finally start to calm down but his need for you had only grown. He had barely left the apartment, deciding to take a vacation to spoil you instead of working on climbing the ranks. You tried to convince him to focus more on his career, but he would drop to his knees every time you brought it up.

“I love this pretty cock,” He groaned, swiping his tongue over your tender glands as more precum leaked from your slit. His lips closed around your tip, sucking it into his mouth while his fingers teased your tight hole.

You yelp and clench your thighs, caging in his head but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, your soft thighs against his ears sent him into a frenzy. He thrust his long fingers into you, curling them up to press against your sweet spot.

Your body bolts up, curling around his head but he continued on, never giving you an ounce of mercy. With your head directly above his, the lewd sounds of his mouth filled your ear, sending you further down the rabbit hole.

He released your cock from his mouth and moved to your hole to gather more of your addicting taste with his tongue. “My baby has such a good hole. So tight and hot, and it’s all mine.”

You let out a whine at his praise, you wanted to always belong to him. To never leave his side as he rose to meet his dreams.

He added a third lubed finger into your ass, stretching you open in preparation for his cock. You hiss at the slight burn but it fades quickly as his expert fingers began to fall in temperature, soothing the ache. He had always been so considerate during sex, always making sure you were well stretched before he ever tried to enter you.

The first time the two of you had sex was not the greatest but it was a moment in your life you would never forget. For hours he explored your body, experimenting and exploring you to understand exactly what you liked. By the end of the night, you were both absolutely exhausted, barely able to move.

His tongue returned to your cock, teasing the side of it with the tongue as his fingers continue to pump into your ass. Your breathing grows frantic and your body becomes tight as the pleasure swelled inside you. You could feel your thighs tremble around his head and your hands shake.

He smiled as your sweet hole trembled around his fingers, his baby was close. Remembering to not speed up he kept his movements consistent, listening for your little mewls to direct his touch.

As your breathing grew more labored and body tense he took you all the way into his mouth, sucking to pull every last ounce of pleasure from you. It was the final straw, he watched in awe as you fell apart. Your ass milking his fingers while your cock pulsed in his mouth with each spurt of cum.

Normally he would keep his mouth on your cock, cleaning up your orgasm with his tongue but he had to be at work in twenty minutes. Grudgingly he moved his mouth from your sex and rose to his knees. He gently slid his hands under you and flipped you over, exposing your mouthwatering ass to his view.

Holding his breath to stop from cumming, he lifted your hips up and pushed your back down. It looked as though you were presenting yourself to him. While he loved watching your face as you cum, this view definitely had its perks.

Lining his tip with your entrance he watched himself sink into you. Your cute moans filling his ears, serenading him as he bottomed out. Wanting a better view, he grabbed your ass with his large hands and spread it open, exposing your tight rosebud. He ignored your squeal of protest and started to thrust, watching you take his cock so perfectly.

Each thrust into your tight heat drove him further into insanity. He would never grow tired of this, tired of you. He still wasn’t sure how he managed to get you to agree to marry him, it still felt unreal, like someone was going to rip the floor out from under him. Something as good as you never happened to someone like him, something always messed it up.

“Shoto,” You whine, dragging him out of his thoughts. “Fuck, I need more.”

Determined to have you cum around his cock he reached around and wrapped his hand around the base of your cock. He let out a sly grin watching your body jerk as he thrust his hand, knowing the extra stimulation would send you right over the edge.

“Please, Shoto, please,” You begged, the tight coil inside your chest reeling tighter with each lazy pump of his hand. You lose the ability to speak, only moans leaving your lips.

“That’s it, that is my good boy. So perfect for me. I want you to cum on my cock while I watch,” He says hoarsely behind you. That was all it took, the spring inside you snapped sending you spiraling into oblivion.

Your toes curl in uncontrollably as you scream into the pillow, the brutal waves of pleasure crashing into you. You couldn’t even breathe as your rode out each pulsing wave. His hand did not stop milking your cock, instead teasing you through the high. Making you ride the wave as long as possible before his thrusts started to fall out of rhythm.

You lay face down into the bed, exhausted as he finally falls apart. You could feel his cock pulse inside you as his cum fills you. Once he finally finished he rolled off the top and laid next to you, pulling you into his arms.

You both lay there for a few minutes, not needing words as you recover from the morning quickie. Shoto pushed himself up on his elbows and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. He then stood out of bed and started to get ready. You lie in bed and watch as he dons his uniform and smooths out his sex hair.

“I should be home for dinner today, I am only scheduled to patrol until five.”

You nod, “Do you want to go out? Mina said the new soba place was really good.”

Shoto flashed you a warm smile, “I would love that, I’ll see you tonight.”

You push up on your elbows to meet his lips for one last kiss before he leaves. No matter how many times you kissed him, he always managed to take your breath away. You bring your hand up to his cheek as he slowly pulled away and looked into his eyes.

“Please be safe.”

He tilts his head into your hand, giving you some of its weight. “Don’t worry, I promise I will always come back to you.”

You drop your hand and lay back down, watching as he leaves the confines of the bedroom, and listened for the front door to close. Slipping on one of your lazy shirts, you make your way to the kitchen. You grab a few ingredients and cook a quick breakfast, eating it while you watch the news. Thankfully there was nothing big going on in the city, only a few petty criminals.

Shoto was more capable of taking care of himself but it was hard not to worry. You knew what you signed up for when you agreed to go out with Shoto, but he made all the stress and worry worth it.

You sit at the small counter and eat your breakfast. You avoid scheduling anything on your days off just in case they let Shoto off early so you had nothing planned. You put your dishes in the sink and start to collect some laundry, you could at least clean up some before you rested.

A loud buzz filled the apartment signaling someone was wanting to come up. You drop off the laundry and click on the speaker. Shoto had chosen this apartment because of the added security measures in place. No one could come up to the floor without a key or explicit permission.

“Hello?” You say into the small mic, unsure who would be asking to come up. Shoto hadn’t mention anyone planning on coming over.

“Can I come up?” The deep powerful voice of Endeavor said to the mic.

For a brief moment, your heart stopped. You tried to frantically think of what to say but no words came to mind. You had only ever met him once and you had Shoto by your side. You know he does not approve of your relationship with Shoto, after all, Shoto is going to be one of the world’s strongest heroes and you were well you.

“Just a minute,” You say to buy time as you debate whether or not to call Shoto. On one hand, having him by your side would keep Endeavor in line but on the other, you should be able to handle being around your fiance’s father. After all once you get married he will be family.

You suck in a stabilizing breath and call down to the front desk to give Endeavor permission to come up. While you waited for him to arrive you run to the bedroom and quickly put on a more presentable outfit. You still wanted to call Shoto, to have his supporting hand at the small of your back as you talk to the flame hero.

Three stern knocks signaled that Endeavor had arrived. You turn the knob and ignore the dread filling your stomach, you could do this. Endeavor knew better than to hurt you, he probably just wanted to talk about your engagement.

You stood frozen in the doorway and stare at the flame hero. He did not have any of his usual fire blazing, letting you see his natural hair better. Without his flames or hero uniform, he was a lot less intimidating.

You plaster on your best smile, “Please, come in.”

He steps into your shared apartment and takes off his shoes. You smile, this was definitely a good start. You both silently make your way to the dining room and sit. You were unsure what you need to do so you sit silently and wait.

Endeavor cleared his throat, “This is a very nice place the two of you share. Shoto chose well.”

You give a cautious smile, “I do really love this apartment. I have never lived somewhere with a view as nice as this one and it is easy for both of us to get to work from here.”

Endeavor nodded, “I won’t waste any more of your time, pretending to be here for a visit. I am sure you have seen the news lately. Shoto has fallen over two spots in rank compared to last year. After evaluating his skills and performance in the field, my agency has determined that his fall in rank is due to the amount of time he is taking off.”

You stiffen in your seat, scared of where this is going to go.

“I allowed this relationship to continue as it was not worth getting Shoto upset with my interference, but this is going too far. You are ruining his chances at becoming the number one hero.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, “Excuse me!”

Endeavor reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small booklet. He opens it to reveal a single check. He pushes it over to you, the box for the amount was blank.

“You fill out how much you want to leave this relationship.”

“You can’t be serious, what kind of person do you think I am?”

Endeavor’s face held no emotion, “How much?”

Your face twists in anger, “Fuck you! I’m not leaving Shoto, not for any amount of money. You can take this check and shove it-”

“If you do not leave I will be forced to take action.”

A rush of fear runs through you, “What do you mean?”

Endeavor sighed, “I let Shoto leave my agency with the understanding that he would still work to climb his way to the top. He is no longer doing this. If he continues like this I will have to call up the agency he is working at and have him removed from their staff.”

“Removed, you mean fired. You will have him fired because he is going to marry me?” Your throat began to grow tight as the world started to close in around you.

“I am going to have him removed because he can’t do his job properly and be with you.”

You begin to shake, “And how is that going to help him become the number one hero?”

“Simple, he will have to come work for me again. Under my influence, he will take over the number one spot in no time.”

“You know he hates working for you. He loves the agency he is working at, you would rip that way from him?”

Endeavor’s flames started to sprout, “I have seen too many heroes with potential never amount to anything because of relationships like yours. I will be damned if the same happens to Shoto.”

“So I will talk to Shoto about not taking as much time off.” You try to reason.

Endeavor shakes his head, “It is far too late for that. It is not just me who is taking notice to his slacking. If he continues to behave the way he is, I won’t even need to make the call to have him removed. If you want him to not have to work for me you will leave him or all of this will be your fault.”

Endeavor stands to his full height, “After today if I see you anywhere with him he will come to work for me whether he wants to or not.”

He leaves you to sit alone in the apartment. You sit still in your chair, unsure what to think. How could a morning that started so perfect end up like this? You somehow managed not to cry, too focused on figuring out what to do.

You know Shoto loved you, he made sure to tell you almost every day, but could he love you if it meant he had to do something he hated? He loved working at the agency with Inasa and others. The time he spent working under his dad was some of the most miserable of his life.

The entire reason the two of you even met was that he went out with his friends to celebrate finally leaving his father’s agency. How could you ask him to stay with you if it meant returning to misery?

With no one to turn to you flip on the tv, needed background noise as you try to find a solution. You could not ask Mina or Kirishima for help, they would spill to Shoto the minute you told them. If he even caught a hint at what was going on he would go berserk.

You had only ever seen him mad once when a fan tried to throw something at you. His entire demeanor changed from quiet and calm into a simmering rage. He would have easily laid out the fan but you somehow managed to calm him enough to convince him to go home. He had spent hours fucking you to get out his rage. By the time he was back to normal your entire body was covered in hickeys and bruises.

You shake your head to clear your mind of, this was not time to think about sex. You look around the apartment you share with Shoto and feel tears begin to well in your eyes. You didn’t want to leave him. Being with him these past few months had been the happiest of your life. You had never loved someone like you loved him.

Could you live with yourself if you had to watch the beautiful light in his eyes fade if he worked for Endeavor? In the dark of night, Shoto would confide in you about his childhood. How his father only saw him as a tool to overcome All Might. If you stayed with him he would have to be around that mindset every day.

Shoto deserved happiness, even if it was not with you. He was young and handsome, he could easily find someone else. You know it will be hard on him but you could not live with yourself if you had to watch him grow to be miserable.

You lift your chin up, you had to break up with Shoto, it was the only option.

You turn to the bedroom and grab a duffel bag you used moving in. You had to move your stuff out before he got home. You know if he had time he would be able to convince you to stay.

You haphazardly pack away your clothes, not bothering to fold the piles as you shove them into the bag. You would only be able to pack a bag without a car to move.

The small click of a lock stopped you dead in your tracts. No, he wasn’t supposed to be home for at least another hour. The bag drops out of your fingers and you run to the living room. He was standing in the kitchen with the fridge open. He did always get hungry after patrol.

He turned his head at the sound of your footsteps and smiled. Your heart finally broke in half, you were never going to have this again. Deep sobs tore up your throat and before you could stop them fat tears began to fall.

Shoto’s face filled with panic and he rushed over to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice filled with panic.

This only makes you cry harder, you didn’t want to do this. The weight of your loss grew stronger as his hold tightened.

“W-we have to break up,” You incoherently sob into his chest.

“Baby, I don’t understand what you are saying, can you look at me?” He gently bruised his hand up your forehead pushing your head back so he could look into your eyes.

Your lower lip trembles but you somehow manage to speak, “I am calling off the engagement, I can’t do this anymore.”

You watch as his face drops, his eyes wide with confusion, “Baby, what are you talking about? What is wrong, did something happen when I was gone?”

You shake your head, “I can’t do this anymore.” Lie. “Being with you is exhausting.” Lie. “I thought you were the one but I was wrong.” Lies, lies, lies. You hate every word that comes from your lips but this had to hurt. You had to make him hate you, it was the only way.

He drops the arms that once held you close to him, “I don’t, I don’t understand? We were fine this morning, what happened?” His blue eyes were glossy with unfallen tears.

You wrapped your arms tight around your waist for mock comfort. “I-I have been thinking about this since you proposed, I can’t handle dating a hero it is too much stress. I am m-miserable.”

Watching Shoto struggle to speak as he processed what you said hurt more than just ripping your own heart out.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner? Why did you let this go on for so long if you felt that way?”

You shake your head, “I thought I would get used to it, but it has only gotten worse.”

“But this morning and every day before that you never said anything. You seemed happy.” He turned his back to you and walked towards the kitchen.

“Why now? What changed?”

You needed to end this before he asked any more questions, you let thick walls close around your heart and go for the kill, “Because I don’t love you anymore.”

His entire face crumbles as if you had stabbed him. Unable to look at him any longer you grab your duffel from the bedroom. You take one last look at the bedroom, the bed still a mess after this morning.

The weight of your loss was so suffocating you couldn’t even breathe as you walk past Shoto. He stood still in the living room unmoving in shock. He blinked strongly a few times like he was trying to wake up from a terrible nightmare.

You reach the front door “I am going to stay at Mina’s if you need anything. I’m so sorry Shoto.”

This was for the best, he could receiver from losing you. You were only in his life for a few months but his dream of being a hero had been lifelong. This breakup will only be a road bump in his journey to success. You knew he will reach the top, it just won’t be with you.

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 3 years

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OBSESSIVE STOLAS X Male Imp Pt.1

(This is a long fanfic and will consist of multiple parts.)

The day Stolas met you, the life which had been boring at worst and full of love and respect at best, was in complete shambles. Broken ever since the "Brunch incident".

He and his wife were barely on speaking terms, and when they did speak, it would almost exclusively devolved into a fight filled with harsh words and thrown objects.

His darling starfire hadn't spoken to him in over a week. Something he'd usually chock up to teenage angst, but she actively avoided him now.

Something she'd never do before.

And so with his homelife slowly tearing him apart, he naturally thought a visit to his favourite Imp in all hell would brighten his day.

And that's where you came in.

You'd worked at I.M.P for the last few months and were quickly becoming a valued member of the I.M.P family.

Youd just finished a job and were about to fill out the rather tedious paperwork the job entailed, When the towering Demon Prince entered the office.

You were too proud an Imp to admit it, but when you first saw Prince Stolas you were a little starstruck.

Said Prince, apon finding a new Imp at I.M.P's office immediately inquired as to who you were

Taken off guard by suddenly be talking to a Prince of hell, you spent a moment fumbling your words, before finally telling him your name.

Stolas finding the whole thing quiet adorable.

Stolas sparked up a conversation, asking how you ended up at I.M.P and your work with the company. Something you were more than happy to tell him about.

You told him how Blitzø had hired you after youd single handedly killed 3 men in a fight with only a can opener.

Then you told him about how working as an assassin was challenging but enjoyable work, all things considered.

You tell him how working for the chaotic force of nature that is Blitzø was great too, when he wasn't being a prick.

As charming as Stolas found your slightly flustered conversation. There was a purpose to his visit. And so asking you if Blitzø was in, to which you told him he was in his office.

Stolas suddenly became anxious, wondering aloud if his outfit was presentable or not.

This caused you to laugh, placing a hand over your mouth.

Stolas was immediately indignant, demanding to know what was so funny.

You killed the laugh with a cough, before telling him you laughed because simply put "You'd never seen a more ravishing demon in all your time in hell" And for him to be anxious was funny to you.

Stolas Blushed hard, a Warmth he didn't understand spreading through his chest. It had been so long since he'd received such praise from someone who wasnt utterly subservient to him.

Sputtering out an timid thank you, before immediately making his way Blitzø's office, Ignoring your cries to wait.

Being violently thrown out of Blitzø's office was not how he saw this unplanned little 'Rendezvous' going.

Blitzø stepped out stared down at him, a mixture of disgust and anger plain on his face.

'I'm so sick of this shit stolas' Blitzø grumble out, pinching the bridge between his eyes. 'We made a Fucking deal, I come over ONCE a MONTH and fuck your brains out. And you leave me alone unless you have a job for us.'

Stolas tried to reply, trying to explain why he was there. But before he could Blitzø interjected 'I can put up with all creepy perverted texts and shit, but I am not your God Damned SEXTOY Stolas! I don't want to see your ass don't here again!' He screamed, before slamming the door.

Stolas just sat there. Unwilling to move. He felt like he'd just been slapped.

His eyes stung. His throat burned. He clutched at the ground, and even as his world fell apart around him, he could only focus on one thing.

He felt so cold...

He had no one.

No one loved him.

He felt so cold...

It took everything he had not to breakdown, he couldn't, not here. It was unbecoming of a prince to been seen showing such weakness.

The sudden sensation of something on his shoulder. Daring to open his eyes, he was shocked to find You, standing over him. Hand on his shoulder and a sympathetic smile on your face.

You reached into your coat and removed a handkerchief.

Croutching down you wiped the growing dew around his eyes.

Putting away the hanky, you stood up and offered him a hand.

Helping him to his feet, you asked him if he was okay. Stolas immediately tried to put up his aristocratic facade and assure you he was fine.

Only for the words to die in his throat and for him to almost burst into tears again.

Leading him into the nearby office, you find yourself in the conference room. You sat him on said conference table.

Quickly zipping off, you returned a moment later with a little plastic cup of water.

Handing the little cup, he took it with a wordless thanks.

Stolas felt cold.

He felt like his whole world was falling apart. He had nothing.

His wife couldnt stand him.

His beloved Starfire wouldn't stay in the same room as him.

He had nothing and no one.

No one loved him.

Why should he even go on.

Even through there crimson glow, you could see just how close he was to breaking down.

So before his despair could consume him completely, you did the only thing you could think of.

You climbed atop the conference table and pulled the poor owl-boi into a hug.

It was a little awkward due to the height difference, but standing on the table brought you high enough to pull his head onto your chest.

Stolas was utterly shocked, not just by the action itself, But the fact you did this on your own acord.

He didn't have to barter or beg or make promises for your affection.

You just... gave it freely.

He couldnt help himself.

It had been so long since he'd last felt the loving touch of another soul.

And for you to give affection so openly, he felt he could let himself be vulnerable to you. He releases a long anguished cry, bursting into tears.

You just held him close, gently petting his head, whispering words of comfort, telling him everything would be okay.

He didn't know why but your words brought out

Stolas threw his arms around you, holding onto you as though you were the last anchor in his sea of despair.

The poor owl drenched the front of your shirt with his dejected tears.

Stolas didn't know how long he cried for, and you simply didn't care.

You could tell he needed this and were more then happy to give the demonic prince some much needed affection.

Eventually, Stolas shed all the tears he had, standing up he unintentionally pulled himself from your warm embrace.

Stolas instantly missed the warmth of your touch. The same all consuming coldness as before instantly returning.

Looking up at Stolas you draw your handkerchief and go to wipe his tear stained face.

But before you could, Stolas grabbed your hand, his other hand was placed on the back of your head, he pulls you into a kiss.

You weren't sure how to react, stolas certainly didn't give you any time to figure it out as he pulled you deeper into the kiss.

While you were initially shocked by the kiss, you honestly, didn't care to put up any kind of resistance.

While you would of preferred he asked for a kiss, you could tell the guy needed this. And all things considered, you were happy to oblige him.

So when his tongue slid across your teeth, asking for entrance, you wrapped your arms around his neck you let it in, giving stolas full access to your mouth.

You began leaning into the kiss, doing your best to return his passion.

Stolas, took your returning passion as further permission, he became more aggressive.

His tongue dominated your mouth, as his hands began roamed across your body.

Stolas was in bliss, each time you shivered or moaned, bringing him further pleasure.

Taking each sound as encouragement, he became more and more aggressive. Sure that each sound you made was an unconscious sign of love.

He became more desperate to hear your angelic voice as moaned or cried out. Desperate to hear someone say they loved him.

Gripping his head, you tried to de-escalate the situation before it got out of hand.

Of course that was easier said then done, as Stolas was much stronger then he looked. But after much effort, despite Stolas's silent insistence that you continue, you finally managed to break the kiss.

Stolas's forceful nature found you pushed back onto the table. Stolas towering over you, staring down at you with those awe inspiring crimson eyes.

'We cant be this doing this' You try to tell him 'Not here. What if someone walks in on us?' The question hung in the air. When it became obvious it wasn't deterring his growing need you asked 'What if Blitzø catches us?'

Stolas pulled back at that.

Looking to the side he rubbed his arm, Anxiety bubbling in his chest.

Stolas hadn't thought of that.

What if Blitzø did walk in?

Finding him with one of his employees.

In his office.

Would Blitzø be upset?

Would he yell at him, scream and throw a fit, insisting he had betrayed him...

Would Blitzø even care?

There was a part of him that said 'Of course he would. Blitzø, no matter how much he denied it, surely Blitzø cared for him on some level.'

Stolas could tell himself that all he wanted, but deep down, he knew the truth.

He placed his hand on your cheek, looking down at you. He tried to speak only for a new wave of emotions hit him, causing him on reflex to fall silent.

It was in that moment, as he stood over you, did he realis he didn't need to hide his vulnerability from you. You weren't judging him, he could be vulnerable to you and would judge him for it.

His heart swelled and despite having just met you, he found himself developing a deep yearning to be with you.

'I-I know this is sudden. And you have every right to say no. But please... No one has ever shown me such genuine affection like you have today.'

' I'm so used to people only interested in me for my status or resources.' Stolas held himself, looking dejectedly to the side. A new wave of sorrow enveloping him.

'Your the only one who's shown me the slightes care, past what I could do for them.' He didn't meet your gaze, he ran his hand down your chest, his voice becoming just above a whisper. 'I have nothing (Y/N), I have no one. Right now your the only thing I have.'

'I need to feel something (Y/n), I need to feel something before I fall apart, and I want feel it with you.' He was practically begging you by this point.

Things like pity and mercy were a death sentence in hell.

There was nothing stopping you from saying no. You cared little for royalty. You weren't some door mat that took every word from royalty as gospel.

But right now, this great Demonic Prince standing before you. He didn't want your obedience. He wasn't forcing you to do anything.

He just wanted some sort of affection. something you knew you could give him so easily.

How could you say no?

With a deep sigh, you resigned yourself to your fate. Leaning forward you place your hand under his chin and raised his head to meet your gaze. Stolas was shocked when pulled him close and planted a kiss on his his beak.

'Lock the door' you whispered.

#helluva boss #helluva stolas #x reader #headcanon #helluva boss headcanon #helluva boss x reader #stolas x reader #stolas

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s-brant · 3 years

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Pirates and Princesses (8/8)

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

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

Word Count: 13.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hook, line, and sinker.

She scoffs, "Your girl?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good Try!”

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

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

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

Deep down, Y/N had a feeling.

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

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

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

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

"Bad day?" she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

His bottom lip trembles with the urge to cry.

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

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

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

She has only been here a few times.

The first time, she was seven years old.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The second time, she was thirteen years old.

It was a Friday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

He isn't listening to her.

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

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

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

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

It doesn't matter anymore.

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

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

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

"JJ?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

She sees right through him.

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

"You're not hearing what I'm saying—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nods in agreement.

"Baby steps."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh my god," she whispers to herself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the fuck, Kie?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe that's how it is, she thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's a shoe box.

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

"What is this?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"JJ..." she murmurs in awe.

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

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

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

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

Letters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dear John B,

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

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

Also, I'm really sorry for—

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

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

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

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

I think you knew it before I did.

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

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

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

I'm keeping my promise.

- JJ

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

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

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

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

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

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

It brings happy tears to his eyes too.

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

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

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

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

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

"Ditto."

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

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

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

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

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

They bury it together.

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

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

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

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theladyofdeath · 3 years

Note

Elorcan 1st time?

PART II of drabble prompt: "Playing 2 truths and a lie while tipsy for Elorcan please", which you can read here :)

This is obviously nsfw. Caution: dirty love making. “Cock” is used, along with other sexual words of vulgarity. Anyway. Enjoy.

Written with @snelbz

Lorcan waited for Elide to come back, but she never did. Yeah, he was a little tipsy - okay, he was straddling the border of being completely drunk - but he had meant what he had said.

I am completely in love with you.

Should that have been how he told her? No. Probably not, and he knew it as soon as the words had left his mouth, but he couldn't help it. Ten years, holding in such overwhelming feelings and emotions...they eventually just had to fall out.

He was surprised he'd held it in for so long.

Now, he almost wished he'd held it in longer.

He wasn't drunk enough to not have seen the panic in her eyes as she stood and walked away, back toward her bedroom. Which is where she had been for the last twenty minutes.

Lorcan remained lying in the beanbag in the corner of the living room, watching everyone else dance and have a good time while he drank and drank and drank.

Until eventually he couldn't take it any longer.

He pushed himself up, and caught his balance, and made his way down the hall. Elide's door was shut, which he expected, but he hadn't expected it to be locked when he tried the knob.

With a sigh, he knocked. "Elide."

Nothing.

He knocked again, harder, and consistently, until it was cracked open. "Will you stop before my door breaks in half? Gods."

Lorcan rolled his eyes and pushed his way into Elide's room, not bothering to wait for permission. He had been in Elide's room a million times, and it had looked the exact same as it had every time. Nothing had changed.

Except for the lingering discomfort in the air.

Elide didn't look at him as she shut her door behind them, shutting out the noise of the party raging outside. When it was just the two of them, standing alone in the silence, Lorcan cleared his throat.

"Care to tell me what the hell that was about?" he asked.

When she swung around, he instantly knew she was pissed. "What the hell that was about? Lorcan! You just told me that you...." She shook her head, her face falling into her hands. "Seriously?"

"That I'm in love with you?" he asked, and took in the sight before him. She wouldn't even meet his eye, and it was clear that she'd come into her room to quickly make an escape from him, to get away from him. There was no emergency of any kind, nothing else that had stolen her away. It was him. He'd told her how he felt, and it had scared her away. So, he scratched the back of his neck and said, "No, I only said that because I was drunk. I thought it would be funny, and it obviously wasn't, so...I'm sorry."

She met his eyes then, and he couldn't quite pin the emotion in her eye. Was it relief? Or disappointment?

Elide swallowed as she nodded. "Well...that's good, because I was sitting here thinking about how I could never bear to lose you. You're my best friend, Lor, and if...you did have feelings for me, that could really complicate things. So."

"Yeah," Lorcan agreed, a little too quickly. "So, I'll leave you alone in here and go back out there and get a drink and feel like an asshole."

Elide chuckled, quietly. "Yeah, alright. Pour me one too while you're out there."

Lorcan nodded and walked past her, back toward her door, but when his hand touched the cool metal knob, he froze.

Then he slowly turned around and met Elide's gaze. "You know what? I'm not sorry." Elide opened her mouth, but Lorcan cut her off. "It wasn't a joke, I was deadass serious. El, I'm in love with you, and I have been...for years. If you don't feel the same way, that's fine, but I finally spoke my truth and I'm not going to pretend like it was some douchey prank. I love you. You're incredible, and if this ruins our friendship, then that's something I'll never forgive myself for, because your friendship is the most important thing in the world to me, but...I love you. I do. And I would be a fucking idiot to act like I don't."

The words rushed out of him so quickly he wasn't even sure if they were comprehensible. Elide didn't say a word. In fact, he wasn't even certain she was breathing, she just stared at him with those big, dark eyes.

Lorcan turned back around and threw open the door when it became clear that there would be no response, but the second he crossed the threshold, she was calling his name.

"Lor, wait."

He did.

He didn't want to, didn't want to get shot down by the person who had saved him in every possible way throughout the last decade, but he was weak when it came to her demands.

"Look at me," she pleaded.

He did that, too.

He turned, and met her eye. She was closer now, only a few feet away from where he stood, halfway in the hall.

"You think I don't feel the same?" she asked, quietly.

He blinked. "You just said-."

"I haven't told you how I felt because you're the most important person to me, too," she whispered, taking another step toward him. "If we...acted on this, and it ended badly, and I didn't have you in my life anymore..." She shook her head. "Lor, I couldn't handle that. I would rather have you as my friend than not at all."

He stared at her. It was the last thing he expected her to say after what she had said before. Now she was there, looking at him completely raw, telling him that she felt the same way.

Lorcan stepped back into the room and shut the door behind him. "You know what your problem is?"

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously? That's what you're going to lead with in this moment?"

"Your problem is," Lorcan went on, ignoring her question completely, "that you think too damn much."

She opened her mouth to speak, surely to protest, but Lorcan had closed the distance between them in one long stride, took her up into his arms, and kissed her, slowly.

Elide immediately melted into that kiss, her arms going around his neck as her feet were swept off the ground. As her legs wrapped around his waist, Lorcan turned and had her back pressed up against her bedroom door. Holding her up with his hips, he cupped her face, and when they finally broke apart, his hands remained on her cheeks, his forehead having fallen against hers as they both struggled to calm their breathing.

Their eyes met, and neither of them said a word as their lips touched again. The kiss was slow, sensual, full of endless longing.

Lorcan had spent long hours wondering how well Elide kissed, but his imagination hadn't even come close to the reality of the feeling of his mouth on hers.

Her tongue swept between his lips and brushed along his teeth. His hands fell from her face and down her body until he had the hem of her tank top in his fingers, and he was pulling it over her head. His eyes trailed down her body, and Elide took the opportunity to unhook the clasp of her bra and drop it to her carpet.

Gently, Lorcan cradled her full breast in the palm of his hand and brushed his thumb over her nipple as her chest rose and fell in quick, rapid motions.

"Now you."

Lorcan's eyes snapped to hers, and she gestured to his shirt. After setting her down on the floor, he pulled his tee over his head, and her fingers were instantly against his skin. She traced the lines of his muscles, and Lorcan didn't dare move. He stood perfectly still, perfectly quiet, while her fingers roamed his body. They trailed from his abdomen, up to his chest, then down his side, and the edge of the v that disappeared beneath his jeans.

She stopped at the band of his boxer-briefs that were peeking out above his jeans, and she looked up, her eyes meeting his, and she popped open his button, and slid his zipper down.

Lorcan still didn't move, was terrified to. Apparently, keeping still had it's advantages and he wasn't about to curse the situation.

He’d made the right decision, too, he’d decided, and Elide inched down Lorcan’s jeans until they were in a pile on the floor beside them. She palmed the hardened bulge in his boxer-briefs, and a soft groan left Lorcan’s lips.

The sound made Elide grin from pure satisfaction.

That grin only disappeared when she pulled those boxer-briefs down, and Lorcan’s cock sprung free, making Elide’s eyes widen and her mouth run dry. For a second, she didn’t move, and for Lorcan, that alone was agonizing.

Then, without a word, she dropped to her knees and met his gaze through her long, dark lashes as she slowly licked the tip.

Lorcan cursed, the sight nearly making him combust. He brushed the hair out of her face so that he wouldn’t miss a damned second of what was about to take place, before letting his hands fall back to his sides.

Elide’s hands had other plans. They wrapped around his cock and began working the base as her mouth took him in. It was slow at first, then with each pass Elide took him in a little deeper, a little further, a little faster. He watched her head bob, watched as this woman he was so madly in love with sucked him dry.

He forced his eyes not to shut, forced his head not to fall back, forced his hands to remain at his sides. It was an all new kind of torture, one he couldn’t endure as one hand, at last, came to rest on the back of Elide’s head, his fingers weaving through her hair with enough force to make Elide moan, softly, against his sensitive skin.

That moan reverberated through his entire body, from his cock to his chest where a growl pulled from him. Elide’s slim hand tightened, working him harder, quicker, and it was something straight out a wet dream he’d had a million times.

He just never imagined it was something he’d experience in his waking moments.

She looked up at him, and he was frozen, chest heaving as he stared down into those big, dark eyes. Eyes that were as glazed with lust as they were the alcohol that flowed through both of their veins. But there was something else in them, something he hadn’t seen in a gaze in a long time.

Care and longing and…love.

She could tell him that she loved him until she was blue in the face, but there was no denying that those eyes were full of love as she looked up at him. It nearly brought him to his knees with her.

That realization only brought him to his release quicker, and Elide’s head fell back as he came onto her breasts, her hands continuing to work him until there was nothing left.

Lorcan’s hand remained on the back of her head, if only for balance as he swore, and closed his eyes. By the time he opened them again, Elide was rising and crossing her room for a towel that hung on a hook by her door, which she used to wipe his cum off her skin.

Lorcan watched the entire thing attentively, and when she turned back around and met his stare with a sly smile, he asked, his voice low, “Why the hell aren’t you naked?”

It was unfair, really, to be completely nude while her jeans remained. Elide didn’t argue, and in answer, she slowly shimmied out of her jeans until she stood before him in a lacy, black thong.

Lorcan’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he had only taken one step toward her when she slipped that thong off, too. When she rose again, there was nothing hiding her beautiful body.

The next thing he did was something he swore he had absolutely no control of. He picked her up and threw her back onto the bed, before crawling up after her, his body covering hers. It was rough and primal and something he’d imagined doing but never thought he’d actually get to do. His lips wrapped around one of her nipples and she moaned as her hand dove into her hair.

Her legs were already parted to make room for his body, so he had easy access to slide a knuckle between her folds, surprised to find her already warm and wet for him. He pulled back to tease her, to say something that would no doubt cause the blush on her cheeks to deepen, but he was interrupted by a knocking on her door.

“Elide?” Aelin called, over the music still playing in the living room. “You okay in there? I haven’t seen in you in a while.”

Lorcan was about to holler back but Elide’s hand covered his mouth.

“I’m okay,” she replied. “Just wasn’t feeling great. Decided to lay down.”

The knob shook as she tried to open it and both Elide and Lorcan were extremely grateful Lorcan had thought to lock it when he’d closed it before.

There was a pause on the other end. “Okay, well, can I get you anything?”

“No, go have fun!” she called, and Lorcan snorted into the hand that was still covering his mouth.

“Alright,” Aelin muttered, as she walked away.

They both remained still for a moment on the bed before Elide’s hand fell away and Lorcan slowly shook his head. “You didn’t want her to hear me pleasuring you?” he asked, a long finger slowly slipping up inside of her.

Elide’s lashes batted against her porcelain skin. “If you pleasure me as well as I think you will, the whole damn party just might hear.”

A soft growl escaped him as Lorcan leaned down to kiss her. The kiss was short, sweet, and then his mouth trailed across her cheek, and along her jaw, and down her neck where he stopped to suck that sensitive spot, just at its base. Then his lips fell to her breasts, once more, and he took her nipple between his lips, tugging on it with his teeth.

Elide hissed, her hands diving into his hair. Lorcan gave her breasts the attention they deserved before moving on, his lips trailing down her abdomen, and when he spread her legs open as wide as they could go, Elide’s eyes shut in preparation for the bliss that was about to occur.

Lorcan leaned back to observe her sex, and took his time before sliding his tongue slowly between her folds.

Elide muttered a curse that had Lorcan’s hands tightening around her ass.

True to her words, the moan that Lorcan’s tongue wrung from Elide was far from quiet. If Aelin had still been on the other side of the door, she would have immediately known Elide had been lying, would have put two and two together when she noticed Lorcan’s absence as well, and would be banging on Elide’s door, demanding to know what the hell she thought she was doing.

Elide couldn’t find it within herself to care. Not as Lorcan’s lips wrapped around her clit and sucked gently. Something that sounded like his name tumbled from her lips, but she was far past coherent thoughts as she gripped her breast with one hand and Lorcan’s hair with the other.

That grip fueled Lorcan more and he sucked a little bit faster, a little bit harder, his tongue going wild as he feasted. Those moans from Elide grew louder, and the fact that she wasn’t a quiet lover had Lorcan feeling even more excited. She was wild, and she knew exactly what she liked - Lorcan admired that.

Elide’s back arched and her knees around Lorcan’s head tightened around him. She gasped between those moans, those delicate fingers woven into his hair gripping the strands to the point of pain. A delightful, wonderful, exhilarating pain.

“I can’t,” she breathed, followed by a lovely string of curses. “I’m going to- Lorcan-.”

She came, and Lorcan held onto her ass, his tongue continuing to circle her clit as she did so. He didn’t lean back and look up until she was finished, and her body collapsed onto her blankets. And when he did, he climbed up her body, took her face into his hands, and kissed her. His chin was wet from her, but he didn’t care, and she didn’t seem to, either, as he sank down on top of her, hiking up one of her legs around his ass.

“I want you,” he muttered, into her lips, as if it wasn’t obvious enough by now. “Gods, I want you.”

She kissed him again, roughly, her tongue exploring his mouth, tasting herself on him, and breathed, “Then take me.”

There was no hesitation after that, no lingering touches or kisses. Not as Lorcan reached between them, lining himself up with her entrance and sank into her warm wetness.

It wasn’t rough, he didn’t want to hurt her, but by no means was it gentle. He filled her with one, long stroke, while she gasped and clung to his back. Her nails sank into the muscles she’d lusted after for so long, his name falling from her lips with a string of curses behind it. He echoed the sentiment as he pulled back and pushed back into her, setting a strong, relentless pace.

Her eyes kept trying to flutter closed, barely able to endure the sensation of having him so deep inside of her, but she kept them firmly on his. She could watch as that cool, well-maintained demeanor began to fall to pieces, could feel it as his thrusts became harder and faster, until before she knew it the headboard was slamming against the wall.

Surely Aelin would hear that.

Neither of them cared.

Lorcan fucked her, unceasing and without abandon. Their eyes remained locked the entire time, although with great difficulty. They didn’t want to miss it, though, didn’t want to miss the reactions, the emotions, the realizations that after all that time had passed, they were finally there, together, in that moment, and no one would ever take that away from them. It was a memory, a part of their story, that would forever be cherished and never forgotten.

Elide came, her knees shaking around Lorcan’s waist, and he only lasted a moment longer before he was pushed far over the edge. When they were done, they laid cuddled up together beneath her blankets, Lorcan’s arm draped around her bare waist as his face rested in the crook of her neck, and she ran her fingers through his long, messy hair.

As they were beginning to drift off into a sound, dreamless sleep, Lorcan said, quietly, “I want it to be noted that I didn’t tell you that I love you to get you in bed.”

Elide laughed, breathlessly, as she looked over at him. “No?”

He shook his head, knowing full well that she knew better. He explained himself, nonetheless. “No. I meant it, Elide. I love you. I have, for a long time, and I will, for a long time.”

Her eyes softened as she pressed her lips softly against his forehead. “I love you, too. Always have, always will.”

#part 2 #tara's 6k celebration #tara answers prompts #elorcan #elide #lorcan #tog #throne of glass #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #this was meant to be a drabble #it is not

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yeeyee-alumni · 3 years

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Joel did not doom humanity (no matter how much the second game wants you to believe that)

To demonize Joel’s decision at the end of the first game (saving his surrogate daughter’s life) you need to bend over backwards and ignore any and all context the first game gave us with regards to who the Fireflies truly are. Because the truth of the matter is: a) they knocked Joel unconscious while he was trying to revive a young girl b) they drugged Ellie immediately to tear her body apart for their needs c) THEY DID NOT ASK ELLIE FOR PERMISSION to give her life for their cause, they didn’t even tell her she would have to die (Ellie was making plans with Joel after the giraffe scene, “Once we're done, we'll go wherever you want. Okay?”, clearly indicating she had no idea she would have to die) d) they did not let Ellie and Joel see each other to say their goodbyes e) they were about to walk Joel out into the wilderness without any of his gear/resources, which during the zombie apocalypse is a certain death sentence f) they didn’t hold up their end of the bargain (remember how Marlene promised Joel guns in return for delivering Ellie?) So even if you show them as much goodwill as possible, the Fireflies are still a bunch of assholes. If the exact opposite had happened, they let Joel go all on good terms and then he suddenly decided to turn around and murder everyone I would have called him a terrible person, but that is not what happened. As it stands, the Fireflies are shady and questionable at best. But it actually gets worse:

a) the procedure that would 100% kill Ellie had an incredibly low success rate (the doctor mentioned in his recording that every previous operation with other test subjects had failed) b) the same recording mentions cerebrospinal fluid having been extracted, meaning they were capable of performing a non-lethal spinal tab, but they’re unable to perform a non-lethal biopsy or craniotomy on Ellie? (this may seem like nit-picking, but actually further solidifies my point about how incompetent the Fireflies/Abby’s dad were/was) c) to add to their immense incompetence, mere hours after receiving Ellie they decide to IMMEDIATELY KILL THE ONLY PERSON KNOWN TO BE IMMUNE as oppose to keeping her alive for as long as possible to run every single test in existence on her. But let's paint a picture of the best case scenario, which is Jerry, the absolute legend that he is, actually manages to get a vaccine out of Ellie, what happens then? a) How are the Fireflies, who are nearly extinct at this point, supposed to MASS PRODUCE and NATIONWIDE DISTRIBUTE a vaccine? That is logistically impossible. b) More than likely, they would use the vaccine as a bargaining chip against FEDRA (granted, this is more a guess than a fact, but to believe they wouldn’t take advantage of the vaccine in the fight for political power against the government they’ve been fighting for years is beyond naïve). But let’s be even more generous: turns out the Fireflies are the most altruistic resistance group to have ever existed, they actually manage to produce and distribute the vaccine into every last corner of the country, everyone is immune. What now? a) You might be immune to spores and bites, but your immunity doesn’t help you when a clicker rips your throat out or a bloater crushes you to death, the infected can still kill you in numerous other ways. b) The faction wars going on are not gonna disappear overnight. WLF and Seraphites will continue to kill each other by the dozens every day, one could even argue that introducing a vaccine into the conflict would only cause things to escalate further. c) Numerous cannibals, hunters and bandits still roam the country, they will not abandon their practices overnight and they are arguably a much bigger threat than the infected to begin with. Just because everyone is immune does not mean that the world returns to sunshine, rainbows, and flowers. To imply that it would, means being simplistic and naive beyond reason. It should be obvious by now that Ellie’s death WOULD NOT HAVE IMPROVED ANYTHING. The chances of actually getting a vaccine are slim to none, the chances of vaccinating everyone are even more dour, and even then the overall situation would not improve much. With such bad prospects I wouldn't be willing to sacrifice my child either. (I am aware that an argument can be made that none of these factors had an impact on Joel’s decision to save Ellie, yet they’re still crucial when making a judgement about the Fireflies/Abby’s dad). To summarize: a) Abby’s dad was incompetent and a horrible person (his conversation with Abby in the second game tells us that he would not be willing to sacrifice his own child, but if it’s someone else’s it’s a-okay for him). b) The Fireflies were a malicious and incompetent terrorist group with messed up morals. c) No, Joel did not doom humanity. Subsequently, Abby’s quest for revenge was not justified because the Fireflies and her dad were never justified in their actions to begin with. And this is only solidified by the second game having to retcon the hell out of all these arguments I just painstakingly illustrated and explained in order to even attempt to have Abby’s motivation be seen as justified. Only one example being how it was clearly established in the first game that they had MULTIPLE doctors in Salt Lake City (Marlene: “The doctors tell me that the cordyceps, the growth inside her, has somehow mutated.”; Ellie: “She said that they have their own little quarantine zone. With doctors there still trying to find a cure.”). Yet in the second game we are told by

Abby that actually no, turns out her dad was the only doctor that could have developed vaccine. And it doesn't take mental gymnastics to see why the second game takes it upon itself to alter most of the context of the first one: to (retroactively!) condemn Joel. HOWEVER, a sequel doesn’t get to pick and choose which established facts from the first entry it builds upon or what it gets to retroactively declare as non-canon only to have it fit their preferred narrative. Quite frankly, that’s bad writing. A sequel, in order to be considered well-written, has to not only be a natural continuation of the events, but has to stay consistent with the characters and the world that were previously set up. And if you have to alter much of the context to make it look like Joel condemned the world, isn't that the most obvious sign that he never actually did? And all of this effort for just one goal: to justify Abby’s quest for revenge and yet it still wasn’t and here’s why: Joel killed her dad in order to PREVENT HIM FROM KILLING HIS DAUGHTER. Abby on the other hand WILFULLY SLOW TORTURED Joel for what appears to be hours, prolonging his death for as long as possible, all for her own gratification (and we won't mention how she went through with it despite Ellie's crying and pleading). And don’t even try to make the argument about Abby wanting “justice”, Joel didn’t torture her dad out of revenge or for his own gratification - this is not justice, this is simply sadistic. A man killing someone who is about to murder their child in semi-self-defense cannot be compared to someone wilfully slow torturing someone to death for their own gratification, like Jesus, I didn’t think I’d have to spell that one out. I am aware that the second game tries to do whatever it can, including retconning their own original story, to paint Ellie and (especially!) Joel as evil. And for a considerable amount of the player base this actually worked, and while I cannot find it in me to condemn them (we all experience stories differently after all), I reserve the right to reject arguments in defense of Abby such as “all people are forced to do bad things during the apocalypse” and “does context even matter?”. If the only way you can defend/justify Abby's actions is to remove all context and nuance, then your reasoning is built on quicksand.

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nanowrimo · 3 years

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Overcoming the Writing “Taste Gap”

Jamie Fuchs has been a dedicated participant in NaNoWriMo for roughly a decade as she strives to bring her ideas to the page. She’s here to discuss how to overcome the doubts and imposter-syndrome mentality that become a barrier when we feel like we don’t fit a particular mold of success:

I’ve spent years comparing my writing to the final polished works of authors with decades of experience under their belt, and the idea that I’ll ever be able to match such feats overwhelms me. I’ve found myself so mentally immobilized by it, I seldom allow myself to begin. If you don’t start, you can’t fail, right?

Ira Glass coined the term “Taste Gap” to explain where this fear comes from — suggesting that it’s in our nature as creative types to have good taste, but our current skill level may not be up to par with that taste.

Somehow, I’ve convinced myself I’m a writer. I’ve maintained detailed files of my ideas. I’ve read widely on many subjects by a variety of authors, to educate myself and for pleasure. I’ve joined all the Facebook writing groups and shared all the inspirational memes on social media.

My dilemma, however, is clear: I’ve stunted my writerly growth because I’ve failed to actually write.

Not all the time. Sometimes I manage to squeak out an interesting blog post or essay. I’ve even successfully committed to a daily morning pages habit, which has helped me work through some personal challenges.

Overall, though, the consistency hasn’t been there. Too often, I come up with excuses for why I can’t write today. The house isn’t clean. I haven’t spent enough time with my friends or family this week. I’m too tired or too old (maybe both?). And then I beat myself up over it when I succumb to these justifications.

I’m constantly seeking writing advice, and some version of “daily writing habit,” appears in nearly all of it. I’ve wondered to myself what it must mean if I’m failing to achieve this relatively simple suggestion. Do I just not have it in me?

The part of me that clings to my future author status refuses to believe that. I’m more inclined to believe I need to figure out how to move forward. How do I, as an insecure perfectionist, give myself permission to write? What can I do to feel as though my writing is valuable to the world?

Because let’s get real. We all face unique challenges in any creative pursuit. It would be lovely if we could all quit our jobs tomorrow and write for a living, but the fact is we have different priorities and demands on our time and a variety of internal and external hurdles to overcome, including the need to pay our bills.

That’s why writing advice can be dangerous to our psyche if we take it as gospel. While it’s helpful to learn from the masters and evaluate the habits and rituals that work for them, we need to develop our own methods in the end, as no two paths are alike.

I’ve been working on my own methods lately, and it has led to a couple of major insights. First, I’m learning to accept the dreaded Taste Gap. I have these amazing stories in my head, but I haven’t quite figured out how to rip them out of there with any sense of coherency. The idea of the Taste Gap gives me hope, though, because I know I’m not alone. We all start at different levels, and only practice and commitment to our craft will make us better. First, we must allow ourselves to suck.

Second, I’m learning to accept I’m on my own path. Sure, I’d love to publish my work one day, but for now I know writing brings me joy. Through writing, I can connect with people in ways I haven’t been able to via other forms of communication. This is my Why.

And this is where giving myself permission really shines. I’m going to start small and ignore the naysayers because I only need to measure up to my own standards. I may never be as prolific a writer as Stephen King and Brandon Sanderson, or as excellent a storyteller as Neil Gaiman, but I no longer think it matters. If I stay in my own lane, I won’t have time to worry about anyone else surpassing me.

Besides, different doesn’t equal less worthy. It’s what makes this world a delight.

Jamie Fuchs hails from Cincinnati, OH, where she works as an accountant by day and a bartender by night. When she’s not slinging beers and crunching numbers, you’ll find her cooking new recipes, hiking the local trails, nerding out over all the books, or agonizing about her writing. You can visit her at The Wocka Spot or on Medium, Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter @JamieFangtastic.

Top photo by Tamas Pap on Unsplash.

#nanowrimo #writing #amwriting #encouragement #validation #support #by nano guest #jamie fuchs #motivation

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donutloverxo · 4 years

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Before you

*not my gif*

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - this was requested by the lovely @whimsicalrogers thanks for all the icons, lock screen and dividers you made me! Thanks for the beta and all your advice @stargazingfangirl18. I hope I do you all proud🤭

Summary - Yours and Steve's relationship was perfect, until it wasn't. Will he be able to convince you to give him another chance?

Warnings - smut (m/f), jealousy, angst, dom/sub undertones.

Pairing - Steve Roger x reader

Word count - 4552

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

As someone who grew up watching an unhealthy amount of Disney movies and romcoms, you couldn’t help but dream, that someday your prince charming would come riding in on a white horse to whisk you away from your boring mundane life.

Someone you could love and hold forever, who’d do the same for you. Someone who’d always be there for you, to pick you up when you fall, to make you laugh when all you want to do is cry. Someone who’d be your everything and treat you as if you’re the most special person in the whole world.

But adulthood killed all those dreams all too easily. You learned the hard way that people didn’t really belong to each other. They barely even listened to when another person was talking.

You thought you came close a couple of times, but you never did find your special person. Everyone walks on their paths alone. And maybe it was better that way. You weren’t sure if you could ever completely open up and give yourself to someone else.

That was until Steve came along. He was someone as lost as you and even lonelier. Finding himself in a world he no longer recognised and among people he couldn’t really trust. It didn’t take that long for him to trust you.

You had put on Snow White which was Steve’s favorite from back in his day. You couldn’t help but insert yourself in the fairy-tale. After all Steve did always call you his princess.

“Steve?” You mumbled into his chest laying on top of him as the end credits played.

“Yes, sugar?” He replied running his hands through your hair before drawing small soothing patterns on your back.

He only had to move his nose an inch to smell your hair and get a whiff of your soft soothing scent. Who knew something so simple could be so blissful.

As much as he loved taking you out on the town and courting you to show you a good time and do all the things he never thought he could, he also loved spending these quiet evenings in with you. Where it was just him and you, the rest of the world just seemed to disappear. He wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“Never mind,” You shook your head. ‘It’s soon. You’ll scare him off.’ That incessant annoying voice in your head said.

“Hey,” He propped your chin up to make you look at him. His heart melted at your glossy eyes. So vulnerable and sensitive. Maybe it was what drew him to you. Your ability to be so sweet and wear your heart on your sleeve. Something he never could do. “What is it?” He asked lowly caressing your cheek. Not wanting to push you too much but he couldn’t really help himself when you looked so sad either.

“Do you think...” You whispered and licked your lips “We’ll be together forever. Like them.” You picked at the threads on his shirt too scared to look at him.

He smiled down at you. Getting up to sit straight and adjust you properly in his lap. “I know we will sweetheart.” He said confidently as if it was a fact.

You looked up at him still holding onto his shirt, as if he’d disappear if you let go for even a second “And do you think you’ll always love me?” You wanted to know.

“Yes, I’m sure of it. Where is this even coming from?” He frowned “I know... I don’t always do a good job of showing you I love you. This is new to me. I’ve never had a girlfriend.” And like the dork that he was he couldn’t help the goofy grin he made every time he referred to you as his girl “But I’ll do better,” He promised and pressed a long lingering kiss on your forehead to seal it. He cleared his throat to ask “What do you think I should do better?”

“No. You’re amazing, Steve, you don’t need to change.” You said giving his plump pink lips a quick peck “It’s just scary. How much I love you and how it can all go away if I’m not careful. People break up everyday and over the stupidest of things or over nothing. I don’t want that to be us.” You sighed unloading all your anxieties.

He nodded taking your words in “I understand. I’m scared of losing you too. More than you’ll ever know.” He paused looking for the best words “What we can do is maybe talk about such things?” He slowly suggested rocking you back and forth in his arms.

You happily tucked your head in the crook of his neck, hugging him close to you. Falling for his sweet words and him. Convinced that nothing would come between you both.

***

He got down on one knee not long after to pop the big question with an even bigger diamond to really show you how committed he was.

You were on cloud nine. You felt nothing could ever bring you down that you only had happier times to look forward to.

Until one fateful day, you didn’t realise it then but it was probably when everything started going to hell, Sharon Carter got back from her year long mission in Europe.

You were only an accountant working for the Avengers. Being so close to Steve did give you some influence, which you were ashamed of liking a bit too much, but no one was ever really scared of you. You heard chatter about her and your Steve. And how now he would surely ditch his ‘normal and plain fiancé'. They never tried that hard to hide it from you. They probably thought you weren’t here for the long haul.

“Hey Angie” You nervously called for your desk mate. “Why is everyone so obsessed with Steve and Agent Carter?”

“Oh you mean Staron?” She grinned before frowning, “Oh I’m sorry! That’s just what people call them. Not me though! You know how hard I ship you two.” She squeezed your shoulder in order to console you.

“Yeah but why? I mean did they use to date or something...” You trailed off knowing that it was something you should be asking your fiancé not your co-worker.

You had tried a couple of times but you were too afraid to come off as jealous or controlling. That was the last thing you wanted to be. You expected him to give you enough space to be your own person, so it’d only be fair for you to do the same.

“I don’t really know.” She stroked her chin as if in thought “You’ll just have to ask Captain Rogers. Nothing was ever confirmed they were just rumors. Even I’ll admit they would make gorgeous blonde babies. But girl! You don’t have anything to worry about! You’re the one who has the ring.” She tried her best to assure you but the seeds of doubt and fear had taken roots in your mind.

Steve assured you that there was never anything between them. They flirted with the idea of dating for a while before she went away, he doubted there’d ever be anything between them. He couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. Not when he’s so madly in love with you.

He was so convincing and charming.

The things that set him apart from everyone else, which you loved about him, were his honesty and loyalty. He blamed his Ma and 1920s raising but you didn’t care. He was perfect in your eyes. He didn’t need to fit in. Those things made him Steve Rogers. Your Steve.

***

You had never been more ashamed than when you went through Steve’s things to get some sort of clue. You went through his sketches to find if he was secretly harboring any kind of feelings about her. You only found sketches mostly consisting of you and the Avengers, some of Bucky and his mom.

You sighed in relief, but then, at the bottom of his drawer you found a sketch of Sharon drawn with charcoal pencil. You couldn’t help but cry tears of frustration and pain, tearing the sketch up and flushing it so he wouldn’t find out. You knew you made a grave mistake, even as you started snooping you knew nothing good would come out of it, yet you couldn’t help yourself. In the end you only upset yourself.

Steve got back from work shortly after with your favorite take out, he kissed you hello. He knew something was up but you simply lied and chalked it up to pms or something.

He was ever so understanding. Giving you a nice massage and drawing you a bath. You decided then, that you wouldn’t look for anything anymore. If Steve was being unfaithful you didn’t want to know. You’d rather live in this beautiful peaceful bubble of ignorance.

***

The next few months were tough. All your wedding planning had taken a backseat as Steve had started to look for his friend Bucky, who also happened to be the winter soldier, with Sam and Sharon.

You didn’t really have an answer when your mother pestered you about going wedding shopping. You didn’t know how to tell her that you doubted if there would be a wedding at all. It would break her heart. Especially after she had come to love Steve as much as you did.

You never complained. How could you? The whole world needed him much more than you ever could. And he didn’t seem to need you anymore.

He never had to have time for you anymore. Late nights at the offices, long missions with Sharon.

One rare night he was home for dinner, you were too busy sulking in your self pity to actually enjoy his company after he’d deprived you of it for so long.

You chose to give him the silent treatment, not speaking more than two words to him. He noticed. Of course he did, Captain America, always so perceptive and smart.

He tried to pry answers out of you for a while before his phone started ringing and he excused himself to go pick it up.

“Why do you always go into the other room to take your calls?” You asked when he got back placing his phone down on the table. Playing with your food not having the strength to look him in the eye and confront him.

He visibly stiffened at the underlying accusation in your question. He had grown annoyed of having the same discussion with you again and again. But he decided to bite his tongue. It was his job to make you feel secure in your relationship.

“It’s confidential information, doll. You know that.” He sighed.

You hummed “But you can tell me who you were speaking to right?” You finally looked up and you wished you hadn’t. He clearly wasn’t happy, his eyebrows furrowed in a frown and his jaw clenched, how you hated confrontation. Not that you ever thought you’d be confronting your Steve.

“It was Sharon.” He spit.

“Of course.” You scoffed going back to staring at your food as he rolled his eyes.

“What do you want me to say? I know you aren’t exactly fond of her but I’m not going to lie just to make you happy. Because that’s not who I am! I don’t lie.” He ranted holding up his phone “Why don’t you go through it? Maybe that will make you happy.”

You shook your head rejecting his offer. Even though you were tempted to, you knew Steve was smart. He was Captain America for gods sake. He’d know how to cover his tracks. If he didn’t want you to find something, you probably wouldn’t.

So you finished your dinner, angrily stuffing the food in your mouth while sneering at him and then left him to do the dishes.

You put yours and Steve's laundry in the washer. Even though you were salty with him you still did your half of the chores. Checking his pockets for any receipts or bills. But then you saw what looked like a shinning golden thread. You pulled at it to find that it was a long blonde hair. Which was clearly not yours.

You thought of going to Steve with it. But if you had to hear another one of his lame excuses you’d probably drown yourself.

So, for the first time, you simply went to bed angry with him. When he tried to talk to you, you retorted with a snarky or hurtful comment or didn’t speak at all. You knew just how crazy that would drive him.

***

You groaned for the fifteenth time in the past hour, your leg impatiently shaking under the table. He was an hour late. He was someone who took pride in always being punctual and sharp, clearly you weren’t important enough for him to consider your feelings. You decided to pick up your phone and call him.

“Where are you?!” You hissed as soon as he picked up. Too angry to even bother to say hello.

“I’m at work. I’m so sorry, doll, I won’t be able to make it. Something important came up.” He apologized. His voice laced with guilt. Which would’ve been enough to convince you maybe a month or so ago, but at this point he had missed far too many dinners and dates.

“Right. Of course. More important than me obviously.” You rolled your eyes.

“You know that’s not true – "

“You didn’t even bother calling me” You screamed into your phone.

“I did call.” He sighed “You didn’t pick up and I’m kinda busy right now.”

“Yeah I didn’t pick up! I was cooking a meal for our anniversary! You know what? I don’t care because you clearly don’t either.” You said hanging up without giving him a chance to speak.

You had packed some of the leftovers up for Steve but you decided to dump them all in the bin. He didn’t deserve your cooking.

You haphazardly threw the tupperware in the sink. Torn between punching a wall and hugging a pillow to cry out all your frustrations. You chose to rigorously scrub and wash the dishes.

Having spent some of your excess energy you sat in front of your dresser, putting some petroleum jelly on your palms to sooth the burn.

You sighed at the sight of your sparkly diamond. You couldn’t bear to look at it anymore. It reminded you of a happier and simpler time. The last thing you wanted was a complicated or dramatic relationship.

As you slid the ring off your finger placing it in your jewellery box, you couldn’t help but ponder on whether it was just as much of your fault as well.

You started packing your clothes into a small bag. Maybe you could spend a few nights at your mothers house until you can clear your head.

***

Steve hastily opened your apartment door with his keys. “Honey, I’m home.” He called out for you.

He rubbed his face, a nervous pit forming in his stomach. He knew he had been prioritising his work over you for weeks now, he didn’t know the extent of it until you told him off on the phone and then didn’t pick up any of his calls. He asked Sam to cover for him for the night as he made his way back home.

His enhanced hearing picked up on movements in the bedroom, he followed the sounds of your rustling, tossing his jacket on the couch.

His worst fears came true as he looked at you carelessly stuffing your clothes in a cabin bag. You spared him a glance before zipping the bag up.

He took a deep breath, he had to say the right words before he fucks up the situation more than he already has. “Sweetheart –“

“Steve, I’m leaving. I think we should take a break,” Your voice cracking a bit but you tried to be resilient and strong, you sighed as you saw the heartbroken look on his face as his jaw dropped “it’s hard for me too but it’s just not working anymore.”

“Is it hard for you?” He spit. “Everyone has problems, I just need one more chance.”

“I won’t let you break my heart again.” You swallowed as you felt tears stream down your cheeks, you wiped them with the back of your hand. “I’ll always love you but I’m tired of being disappointed and suspicious and jealous. It’s not who I am, it’s not who I want to be.”

“Wh – what do you mean suspicious?” He asked as his brows furrowed.

“I think you know what I mean. I know I’m not like a model or a kickass spy or unique. But I still want to be special to someone. I’m so...simple. I thought that was enough for you and us.”

“What are you even talking about?” He lost his composure and calm as his eyes watered, blurring his vision, he held onto your forearms, needing your touch the most right now, as if you won't leave if he held on tight enough. “I’m not special either.”

To which you scoffed. “That’s debatable.”

“It’s true. Captain America is special. He’s the superhero. I’m just Steve.”

“I know that’s what you think,” You said shaking his hands off of you and staring at the floor, not bearing to look at him “But it’s not the reality. Captain America is a part of you. And I think... maybe Captain America deserves someone extraordinary like Agent 13.” You let out a humorless chuckle.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He asked in his stern Captain voice, clenching his fists having had about enough of this.

You stiffened as a shiver ran down your spine at his tone. He had never spoken to you like that. He reserved that tone for his teammates and subordinates, and more often than not Tony. But not you. You were his precious baby.

You felt as if you were compelled to look up at him, he wasn’t crying anymore but his jaw had hardened, his face and neck flushed red. “Sharon. I mean,” You took a deep breath “I know there’s nothing between you two... probably.” you whispered as he raised a brow at you.

“But your work and duty will always come first and I know it is a good thing. But it’s not what I want. I thought I could handle it, the whole world needing you more than me and coming before me,” You spoke so lowly but you knew he could hear you, “but I can’t. I don’t think I ever will. A break will put things into perspective for both of us.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He growled as you rolled your eyes. “How could you think those things? I need you more than anything else.” His anger was fuelled as you scoffed again, as if he was lying. “Don’t you dare hink that there’s anything past or present that I’d put before you. You’re the only thing that matters. I promise.”

“You may believe that, but your words only carry so much weight when they’re not followed up by actions. I know you’re not the cheating type,” You rambled pulling on your hair and sighing, it was all so overwhelming “I don’t know what to believe. When I go days without speaking to you – what else am I supposed to believe?”

He hesitantly snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, relieved that you didn’t stop him or push him away again, “Just give me one chance to prove myself. I know I’ll never be worthy of you but I don’t want us to give up so easily. Not without putting up a fight.” He gritted pulling your chin up as your hands played with the buttons on his shirt. “And you know how good I am at putting up a fight. I’ll always fight for you,” He smiled pulling your chin up to look at your pretty face.

“Okay,” You sniffled. “You’re always so good with words.” You smiled shaking your head.

He hummed at that. “I got you to go out with me, didn’t I?”

“What are you doing here anyway? Didn’t you have work?” you wanted to know.

He shushed you, pulling you into his chest and pressing his face in the crook of your neck. He craved your warmth and comfort especially after almost losing you. “I’ll never take you for granted again.” He nuzzled your neck before kissing it. “We can go venue hunting tomorrow. For the wedding.”

You smiled in his hold “Well I don’t know about that. Maybe the wedding planning can wait for a while.”

He hummed as he rested his chin on top of your head. He had his work cut out for him if he intended to keep you. He made a mental note of calling Tony first thing in the morning. “I hate it when we fight.” He said rocking you in his arms “But I like the making up part.”

You playfully smacked his chest. You just knew he was cheekily grinning. “I agree.” You giggled.

You hadn’t fought a whole lot throughout your relationship, but the make up sex was always amazing.

You gulped nervously as he captured your lips in a bruising and breath taking kiss. Letting you know just how much he loved you. You hummed as his hands caressed the soft skin of your ass, squeezing it lightly before he pulled you up.

You yelped as you wrapped your legs around his narrow waist. You trailed kisses down his jaw as he carried you to your bed. Giving him a nip or two here and there, smiling against his throat as you felt the vibrations of his moans.

He gently dropped you on your comfortable mattress, you giggled as you bounced.

Steve hovered above you, he was so large, he was the only thing you could look at. Your shaky hands worked on unbuttoning his shirt as he pulled your night shirt up, groaning at the sight of your soft nipples, hardening so easily at his touch. He pulled one in his mouth as he thoroughly sucked on it.

“Oh, Steve.” You moaned as his hand came up to pay some attention to your other breast, fondling it in his hand before tugging your stiff peak with his fingers. You gasped as he bit you. “Oh I’ll definitely feel that tomorrow,” You sighed pulling your shirt over your head as he made his way down your body, settling between your legs.

He looked at you as you bit your lip, your breasts laid flat as you chest heaved with anticipation. He let out a guttural sound as he saw and smelled just how aroused and wet you were for him. He licked a firm stripe up your warm folds before capturing your bundle of nerves in his mouth, harshly sucking on it as he worked you up with his fingers to get you ready for him.

The moans and mewls from your mouth and the squelching of his fingers were something akin to a symphony to his ears. He cooed as you thrashed wildly when he pulled away. “Steve!” You whined.

“Just a minute baby. You remember what we talked about? Patience.” He said as he quickly got rid of his clothes. His throbbing erection ached to be inside you. But he couldn’t help but tease his sweet girl a bit as he stroked himself above you, much to your displeasure.

He chuckled as you kicked your legs. “Patience,” He reminded you again as he bent to suck a bruise on your breast. He pulled away with a pop, pleased with the way your skin bruised under his assault, “So you’ll always remember how much I love you.” He murmured in your neck as he slowly entered your channel.

He stayed inside you just like that for a few minutes, it was comfortable like a warm hug, it felt like home because you were his home. No matter how many times he made love to you, he could never get used to how wet and tight you felt.

He sucked a few more love bites on your neck he knew you’d give him hell for later but in the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He rocked his hips, slowly and tortuously pulling out of you before pushing back in till he bottomed out, searching for your special spot, he knew he found it when you threw your head back and started blabbering nonsense.

Your hips matched his pace, trying their best to keep up with his super strength and agility. He propped himself up on his elbows, he needed to see you, see your face twist in pleasure as he did such sinful things to you. Except they rarely ever felt sinful to him. It felt as if he was expressing his love for you by pleasing you and worshipping you.

“How could you ever think I don’t care about you?” He asked not really expecting an answer, what with you being so preoccupied and your mind too far gone to listen to him, as he drove his hips up harshly.

You shook your head muttering apologises and chanting his name as he felt you clench around him. Your nails dug into his shoulders, holding onto him as your orgasm hit you in waves of pleasure.

“I need you to say it.” He demanded. His thrusts lost any sense of rhythm simply pounding into you with abandon as he chased his release. “Say that you know that I love you.” He rasped as his hips stuttered. “Say. It.” He punctuated with a few more thrusts before he emptied inside you, panting into the crook of your neck.

“I know you love me Steve.” You mumbled as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I love you more.”

You felt him shake his head as he pecked your lips. “That’s not possible.”

“Yes it is!” You huffed incredulously.

“Agree to disagree.” He stated not really in the mood to fight with you anymore as you smacked his bicep, scoffing at him before muttering a ‘whatever’ under your breath. He pulled you on top of him still connected to your heat as he felt his spend spill out of you. “Can we stay like this for a bit?” He asked somewhat shyly.

You hummed, “Yes of course.” You sleepily mumbled against his soft and warm chest.

He listened to your breathing and steady heartbeat as you slipped into a dreamless slumber.

He couldn’t sleep. He only ever slept a couple of hours every night and now after everything that perspired, he was scared he’d fall asleep and you’d be gone when he wakes up.

There was no way in hell he’d ever let you. He’d give up the shield if he had to. He was as stupidly stubborn as you if not more. He was sure he’d fix everything as he kissed the top of your head and covered the pair of you with the comforter. So you’d feel as warm and comfortable as him.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and feedback are appreciated! ❤❤

Idk how Sharon comes off in this but no Sharon hate please! I don't have an opinion on her but I believe in girls supporting girls. Thank you😘😘

#reader x steve rogers #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader

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splashinkling · 2 years

Text

a year of writing ~ 2021

imagine being able to look up at a mountain like that👀

Very much inspired by @drippingmoon and @sleepy-night-child because their posts were very awesome and I also wanted to write something awesome (shoutout to @ecwrenn for posting this great event!!)

Now get your snacks lads cause this might get long

Ok hold up. It's been a year?? A whole ass year?? 2021 just flew by like a damn freight train threatening to run me over while I'm walking leisurely on abandoned tracks (I've never once done this because there aren't any around where I am and I would never anyways cause it seems (and probably is) dangerous)

but enough bewilderment because there's actually a lot to get through and I know I'm going to ramble so let's get on with it. I'm literally going to pour my heart for all you people read because I'm feeling like being open for once and cause I've got more things going on than just Den, tho some of you know that already

(also because I'm being open, I'm being loose. so feel free to ignore my unnecessary vocabulary)

I'm going to mention late December too à la sleepy's way because those poor 7-14 days need some recognition haha

also we're going to do this first by project and by month (like Name/Title, Month-Month) because things intersect and everything and I have the compulsive need to organize this the way I need to (it's also sorted chronologically and I know that doesn't make sense if I'm doing it also by project, but I'm doing it anyways)

(okay I'm looking at this post-writing it. and damn did I not know how many things I wrote because this list is ginormous, but that might also be due to the padded rambling haha)

MST-S01, December 2020-October 2021

so this was the month I joined a new D&D group! (whom I am now temporarily, albeit possibly permanently estranged) and my first session was in the days leading up to new years!

I don't usually talk about D&D on here, but if y'all see dice on your dash, it might (almost certainly) be me.

anyways, MST-S01 wasn't my best character by any means, but I totally had a great time playing him/them during that time! I could ramble on more about him and further plans I had, but alas, I've got other things to ramble on about

Lost Mine of Crafting, January-October

My beloved D&D campaign! That I basically fully homebrewed! Due to some unfortunate happenings in October, I never got to run the last session of arc 1 😔😔 even tho I promised my players I'd do it before the end of the year when I was alright. I just never got around to it and now it's December 25th.

but omg let me gush about this a little bit because I never get the chance to-

so this is actually my third time ever DMing and my first time ever using a fully homebrewed campaign. major success all things considered.

originally Lost Mine was a crafting-based campaign. my players were supposed to be part of a company and make a living off of things they make. but no. they had to go on an adventure. they had to kidnap a penguin and make it their pet. they had to stop the random cult that keeps appearing and somehow save the ranger's sister and the NPC's brother.

I miss Lost Mine because I never got to finish it. but I don't know how I'll be able to get back into it. well I know how, with that finale (which would've consisted of a massive battle in a castle as well as plot-relevant fights) that I promised, but I don't know if I'll be able to execute it and/or continue into an arc 2

also fun fact, I could totally make this entire thing shareable because I wrote a damn summary for every session (I think there's like 30-something of them) and so that is definitely something I could do with my players' permissions 🤔

The First Born (aka Demon's Contract), March

aka the project that never really caught my attention

aka the first interactive fiction I tried working on this year

First Born was written as a response to a writing prompt. and the idea's there (where a demon receives a newborn in exchange for a thing that the human wants) but the motivation's not there. much less now that Den's a thing (same vibes and all) I also wouldn't know where I'd go with it as an interactive piece, so maybe a novel-style would suit it more? idk.

Tonight's Drink, Late May-June

A tie-in to my D&D campaign!!! it was for another game jam so it was stressful writing it within 2 weeks.

okok so Tonight's Drink is actually a bar in a harbour city (called Yesterday Bay) and this whole story is a prequel to campaign-time! I know I shouldn't say much more than that because Tonight's Drink is apparently something people would enjoy playing (so I'm told). but my players really did visit this bar and the Ranger got piss-drunk in it 🤣🤣

Sparks by the Fireplace, June

this was just a little scene snippet drabble thing that I ended up submitting to a game jam. also the second time ever that I used Ink, so that's nice.

Various Game Reviews, June-Now

this is an amalgamation of stuff that I wrote about games because I love games and I love writing games and I love writing about games. and all this is solely posted on Tumblr!

a couple I want to point out are my Littlewood and Hollow Knight ones because those ones are the ones I really really loved during the summer and I just had to gush about them, and now here are those posts where I gushed about them 🤣

I do wanna continue these, just not sure if anyone actually reads them haha. and also lists. those would be fun.

Genshin Impact TTRPG, July-August

oh lord I nearly forgot that I wrote this. but it was so fun at the time. a whole tabletop RPG based on Genshin. that might've been really fun. but I just don't have the time or the patience to keep up with the updates and tweaks the mechanics 🙃 so into the purgatory bucket it goes-

Demons in the Den, July-Now

Den 🥺🥺 and also the only traditional story writing I've done all year lmao and I started in the dregs July and I finished draft 1 in November. that's a whole 3 months and 59k words. I totally should've done NaNo but I'd been focused on Den at the time *sigh

y'all who've been following me know about Den. but those who haven't, Den's the WIP baby of this blog and I give it all my love and attention (especially the two main characters, Mara and Aliah because they deserve each other)

and okay but those unfortunate happenings in October totally affected my writing of Den. it was a tough time and Den was my escape, or at least my distraction.

Cozy Cold Night, December

my latest game jam endeavour!! something that ended up being way sadder instead of comfy. but the wintery vibes are all there!! this was definitely more like I had a scene idea and I wanted to see where it could take me.

also my first time using Bitsy! and it's super good for short stories!!

alright and now I wanna talk a little bit about being on Tumblr because that's something I wanna talk about.

apparently I've been here since June?? seriously? I didn't realize I've been here half a year. but the caveat is that I've only been a writeblr for like, since September, and even then I've only been interacting with anybody since mid-October and that means I've only been here for like 3-4 months??

that's absolutely wild.

y'all are amazing and very supportive! y'all wouldn't know it, but seeing people like my writing made that tough October bearable.

so this little section is a shoutout to all those awesome people I've met and interacted with during my short time here!

here's to more time spent with y'all!

I gushed on and on and I hope you're still with me because I'm going to continue gushing on and on, but this is the final stretch! so stand up for a minute, stretch, and sit back down because there's more to be talked about

and by more to be talked about, I mean that I'll brush up on ecwrenn's suggested content list 🤣

WIPs and Drafts

there's only one ongoing WIP and we all know what it is.

Demons in the Den

right now we're looking at Demons in the Den for the immediate future! Draft 1 is complete! Arc 2 is like, 10k words in (all in non-sequential order because I just wrote scenes that I wanted to write (so that means parts of the later beginning, and parts of the calm before the storm, and parts at the end haha) look forward to updates about this in January (probably!)

Things I figured out

here's the sitch, guys. give me deadlines (no "end of the week" shit, I need those 1 hour sprints!!). give me word limits and word goals. I have learned the way of my writing and that is quantifiable data. I need something to track and watch as I write! this is definitely something I'll take into whatever I write in the future because it's super motivating to me

also that I'm still no good at action scenes and I need to work on that. but also my descriptive writing is still on point (please allow me this slight flex/proudness haha)

Plans, Plans, Plans

my laundry list of things I need/want to do haha

first thing's first, I have to (and I mean I need to lock myself in a room and force myself) read over and rewrite Den to make draft 2. it might be this winter. it might be next summer. but I have to do it. because I want to and I want to be able to share it with y'all (also where, idk, but it'll be somewhere). and also finish arc 2, draft 1, but that's likely after arc 1, draft 2 however I do have the ending in mind already because it'll be so so good 🤣🤣

and then next... I'm gonna try and make a whole game! and I'll make game dev posts on here and everything, it'll be great (I hope!). I'm very much not sure which of my various ideas I want to act on. cause there's Night of the Winter Star, which is another interactive fiction game (this time in Choicescript). then there's this whole physical card game I'd been planning out that I nearly forgot I had lying around in my Trello (yes the whole thing is in there. no I haven't moved it anywhere else.) and then there's Flare Code, which is a whole damn RPG that I could make in who-knows-what and it'll take who-knows-how-long, but it's also my passion project. ah the options 🤔😔

also I want to interact more! even tho I don't have enough time 😅 Tumblr can already take hours from my day so I've gotta be careful with what I ask for. but meeting people on here would be really great! (even if I can only interact every so often) also events! I might wanna do those! especially since I've limited myself to only tag games and ask games so far!

oh and I actually really wanna change my pfp away from this damn eggplant plush 😔 it became a stale meme like a month ago (and I just might've found something to replace it with while I was looking for music to write this post to)

oh oh and I wanna chip away at my gaming and reading backlogs!! it's never gonna happen, but one can dream!

oh lord I've rambled on and on and for that I apologize 😅 gonna leave y'all with every single slime in a wonderful little animation from Slime Rancher (the first one, but super hyped for the second one) as my offering for having gotten this far haha

(can you tell I love that game? 🥰) (also idk where I got this from, I just had it on my computer haha credits to whoever made it tho!!)

#ayearofwriting #this is hella long and I've been looking at this post for so long #I humbly apologize for how long it is but it was refreshing to ramble on for so long #I'm thinking of changing my pfp into a cute lil' ghost I found in this music video #also June was so long ago #I had no idea I wrote so many things this year. this was a needed look back on an otherwise trying time #if I missed anything then... oh well I guess lol #okay well it's literally past 5am. I'm gonna go pass out.#also yes that banner image is Celeste because I love that game to bits as well

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datsrightbby · 3 years

Text

Marko + David (TLB) x Fem!Reader

Insatiable Habits

Warnings: NSFW/Smut, cursing, voyeurism, threesome

It had started off as subtle teasing at first, the kinda stuff that made you blush. Like, a gloved hand skimming your thigh and creating shapes across the exposed skin, or a lingering kiss on your neck, and the occasional whisper in your ear that had you burning crimson red and burying your face into the crook of his neck. It was the minute his palm went that bit higher on your thigh, the minute his thumb ghosted over your clothed crotch, did you start feeling flustered to the point of rubbing your legs together in need of friction.

Not often did you and the boys stay back at the cave the whole night, but tonight was one of those rare occurrences when all of you were content staying in. David took full opportunity, of course, and kept you on his lap. The night had just begun to seep into early hours of the morning, which reminded you -

"Don't you guys need...food?" It's not as though you were ignorant to the fact of what they were, it was more so you'd refused to fully wrap your head around the idea that the four guys you met, one now your boyfriend and mate, were violent in any way. Though if you could avoid talking about it, or thinking about it for that matter, then you'd be okay.

"Dude, I’m starving -"

" - Yeah we should leave before the sun starts coming up." Marko remarked, putting down his sketch book and standing up to tug his discarded jacket on. You went to move off David, but his hand on your hip kept you in place on top of him, the subtle gesture telling you that he planned on staying with you. The boys gave you both a once over as they headed toward the stairs, smirks decorating their features at the sight.

"Guess David's passing up tonight for some other kinda food." Paul hollered and Dwayne sent you a wink, which internally made you roll your eyes, but you grinned back at them anyway. Marko had hestitantly headed towards the steps after them, albeit a few strides behind -

"Marko!" There was a pause as Marko's attention turned back around to David, eyes skimming across your figure before focusing intently on the man who's lap you resided.

"Stay." It wasn't a question, it was a demand, and Marko didn't seem to have much to say about the ordeal. You couldn't pinpoint why David had asked Marko to stay behind as it was implied, from both the endless teasing and staying behind, that the two of you were gonna do a little more than some heavy petting. David reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter, lighting it in one attempt and taking a deep intake, exhaling toward the ceiling as to not get smoke all over you.

Marko had resided back to the couch, while you and David shifted against each other, you placing little kisses on his jaw as he blew smoke toward the ceiling again.

"Why did you ask Marko to stay behind?" You whispered lowly, hoping he couldn't hear.

"I have an idea." It was all he said before dipping his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, your head fell back and you let out a low, breathy moan as he rubbed languid circles against you. The cigarette he lit hung loosely from his lips, ash falling onto his lap haphazardly. In the corner you heard Marko shift in place and you panicked, reminding yourself of his presence and trying to pry yourself away from David's fingers, which had now entered you and pumped in and out a few times. There was no reaction from Marko other than staring at the sight in front of him, though you were sure he wasn't expecting to see David’s fingers working sinfully against you when he looked up from his previous activity.

"Relax kitten, I know what I'm doing." You looked up at him in both shock and confusion, but didn't question his motives, he'd never done you any harm before and you trusted David. Perhaps, if you hadn't been so worked up from his endless teasing all night, things would be different under the same circumstance, but that was neither here nor there. Relaxing into his touch, opting to close your eyes and focus on the feelings rather then the wandering eyes, you allowed for the situation to continue.

"Let us hear you -" David's voice growled in your ear and you moaned explicitly, louder than you had expected.

"That's my girl." You whimpered and bucked your hips up into the palm of his hand, knowing he was smirking down at you right now.

Your arousal laid thick in the air to the vampires, it was sweet and intoxicating, and Marko swallowed thickly at the scent of it. Just when you felt as though your high may have been approaching, David pulled out and sucked on his fingers, licking off any trace you'd left on them. Marko watched you intensely, eyes lingering on any exposed skin they could get too. You felt erotic and filthy, but in the best way possible. The way the two looked at you sent goosebumps flying across your skin, it was as though you were the prey and they were the wolves, every fleck of color in their eyes had turned to black in desire and need, and you knew where this was headed simply by how they stared at you. On somewhat shaky legs you stood from your spot on David's lap, he waved his hand in Marko’s direction as if to tell you to go over to him -

“Remember you’re still mine.” Nodding, you thumbed over his jaw before sauntering over to Marko, who'd watched your every step approach him. In a surge of confidence you placed your hand on his shoulder, laying him back against the couch, sitting on his crotch with your thighs either side of him. You grind against him slightly, noting that his cock was already hard as sin. Marko let you have your fun, looking over to David who only watched while smoking the remains of his smoke, with a nod from his leader he had all the knowledge he needed of the situation. This wasn’t planned, but Marko was aware David knew of his feelings for you and it seemed he was letting him indulge a little. Instantly he had spun you both over, thrusting against you, a moan skipping past your lips. You'd been teased all night, so feeling his erection right where you needed him most, well, it was heavenly almost.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this." Marko teased your neck with kisses and nips, his eyes closed and he inhaled your scent; the way your hair smelled, the arousal between your legs, the perfume you wore, you were intoxicating and it's no wonder David could never keep his hands off you. Who could resist you?

David had long stubbed out the rest of his cigarette as he watched the two of you toy with each other and tease, he watched as Marko whispered dirty things in your ear and how you replied with giggles, and he soon unzipped his fly and freed himself of the restraints his cock was behind, stroking himself at the sight of the two of you. This wasn't just because he knew you found Marko cute, or the fact that he knew Marko had been in love with you since he met you, no, this was David's fantasy too.

It didn't seem long before Marko had ripped your clothing off of you, you'd responded with as much fervor. His hands roamed every inch of you in eagerness, he relished in the soft curves of your body and the way you shivered beneath him. It seemed too good to be true, having you here now was better than he had ever imagined. Marko kissed down your body, nipping here and there, which caused him to grin up at you every time you jumped. He stared at you for a moment, breath heavy and chest heaving, eyes pleading with you -

“Please let me have a taste?”

You weren’t sure if it was a question for you or David, but you’d instantly whined out a ‘yes’ and he wasted no time working against you. His tongue teased your clit in circular motions and you shook underneath his grip on your thighs, hips moving up against his mouth in need of more friction. The desperateness of the night took over you; David’s consistent teasing since you’d arrived, your forgotten orgasm from David’s fingers, and now Marko’s tongue wickedly lapping against you, you couldn’t help but huff out in neediness. Your head lolled to the side and noted David palming himself through his jeans, it appeared he was enjoying this just as much as you and Marko. A bite on your thigh had your attention back on the curly haired blonde in between your legs in an instant, he grinned and delved further into your wetness, giving you the relief you’d been craving.

“Use your fingers, she likes that.” Per David’s request Marko’s middle and index finger entered you and your head fell back against the couch, hands holding his head in place as his tongue roughly explored every inch of you. You couldn’t help the curse words that slipped, and the slap on your thigh because of it had you whimpering.

“I - I think I’m gonna cum” Marko only sped up his ministrations, adding another finger inside you, stretching you out, he played with the spot that had you shaking the most until your body was overtook in blissful release. Never once did he stop, even as your hands attempted to tear him off of your spent body, he continued until he was sure the taste of you was burned into his memory. His body moved up you once again, claiming your mouths together in a sloppy kiss, the taste of your arousal still heavy on his tongue. His mouth moved from yours to you ear -

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll feel me inside you for a week.” he whispered so possessively it had you clenching around nothing and praying he’d live up to the promise. The sound that came out of you was borderline pornographic, though you were beyond modesty at this point. Marko lined himself up with your entrance, looking down at you for silent permission, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him close, his cock slipping into you with ease and stretching you out deliciously. Between Marko’s moan and your choked sob, you knew you were gonna crave the feeling of him being inside you for weeks after, he was inside you raw, and he took a moment in awe to rejoice the feeling of you, knowing it was probably the only time he'd ever get to have this experience, and he wasn't about to let this go to waste. He was going to fuck you so good you'd remember it forever, remember him forever. The pace he set was fast with deep, hard thrusts that had you clawing at the couch underneath you to keep you still. Your mouth hung open from the intense feeling of him pounding into you, your lips spewing out a mantra of curses and Marko's name.

“Do I fuck you good baby?" You moaned louder at his words, trying to find the will in you to focus on anything other than his cock filling you to the brim with every movement of his hips. When you didn't answer him, he opted to slap your thigh, an echo wondering around the cave because of it.

"Tell me."

"Y-yes - you feel amazing- ugh"

Your head coaxed to the side, noticing David had now freed himself and was stroking his cock to the same pace Marko fucked you at. "Oh fuck -"

You didn't know who to look at; Marko fucking you into next week, or David getting off to the sight of you being fucked. It was overwhelmingly sexy having the two men desire you so greatly, being shared between them made you feel powerful.

David watched your thighs flex around Marko’s torso, the way you threw your head back in pure pleasure, how Marko’s cock disappeared between your legs over and over again. He stood and sauntered over to the two of you, placing his cock at the tip of your mouth, asking for entrance into your, all too willing, mouth. You happily accepted and took as much of him as you could fit at once, though David soon had a hand on the back of your head and his hips thrusting his cock into your mouth. All you could do was relax and let him take you, forcing yourself to hold back chokes and spit as he fucked your throat with ease, all while Marko rammed his painfully hard cock into you, your thigh now over his shoulder and the new angle allowing him to be so deep inside you it hurt, in the most pleasurably painful way. It wasn’t long before you felt your second orgasm build up, the aftershocks of the last one still lingering and causing you to tremble against the two men ravishing you, tears spilled from your eyes as Marko fucked you through it. Soon your body was convulsing and shuddering underneath them, David’s cock still deep down your throat, and Marko’s deep inside you. You clung onto Marko’s shoulders for dear life, heat spreading throughout your entire body and turning you numb as you tried to adjust to the overwhelming sensations, both of them were close, from Marko’s messy pace to David’s twitching cock, you moaned around him to spur him along, while Marko chanted out in whines as his release approached -

“Don’t you dare cum inside her.” Marko did as he was told and pulled out quickly, spilling himself all over your stomach, David soon cumming down your throat and making you deep throat him as you swallowed every last drop, you grabbed his thigh and squeezed, a sign that you needed to stop and relax a minute, which he did immediately, tucking himself back into his pants and leaning down to your eye level.

“Are you okay kitten?” You nodded, noting how your body ached from the rough actions it had endured. Marko placed a kiss on your cheek, wiping away a few stray tears. “You sure? I can get you anything you need.” You gave him a weak smile and stroked his cheek, trying to reassure him as best you could that you were, indeed, fine, but fucked out.

The boys helped clean you up and take you over to the make shift nest David had built you a few months prior. Though, one question lingered in your mind. Where does your relationship go from here?

#the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #marko the lost boys #the lost boys Marko #david the lost boys #the lost boys david #marko the lost boys x reader #david the lost boys x reader #Shakira Writes

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lilliagradiewrites · 3 years

Text

evermore (jj maybank)

Summary: Y/N is in a depressive state, but refuses to tell her boyfriend. After she walks out on a party, JJ realizes that something is off, and rushes to comfort her.

*based off of the song “evermore” from Taylor Swift’s new album!!

WC: 2.2k

WARNINGS: Mentions of depression/ symptoms of depression, mentions of anxiety & panic attacks, mentions of suicide/ death. (The reader is at a very low point during this. Please proceed with caution of mentions of depression triggers you.)

A/N: Hey my lovelies! I have a new piece for you. This is a one- shot, and is on the shorter side. If you don’t know, Taylor Swift released a new album on the 11th. I have been so obsessed with it, and one of my favorites from the record is the title track “evermore.” I knew i had to write something based off of that song! This is inspired by that song, and I encourage you to listen to it while you read.

Much love to you all, and happy holidays! I hope you enjoy!!

LET’S DO IT!

~~~~~~

The night was cold as you walked quietly down the street, the old cardigan your best friend gave you wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You weren’t dressed for the mid-october weather, your shorts and tank tops providing little warmth on your shivering body. As much as you hated the cold, it felt good to feel something again.

November was approaching quickly, and as you walked down the street that cold october night, you realized that you hadn’t had a true spark of happiness since that July. Of course, there were moments of joy, but it was never consistent, and lasted a day at the most.

You couldn’t seem to pinpoint the exact moment where everything went wrong, no matter how many times you’d tried. Countless times, you’d retraced your footsteps to find the moment your despair began. Unfortunately, this only resulted in distant memories from better times becoming fresh in your mind, pushing you deeper into the dark hole you were trapped in.

For a while, no one noticed a difference. Your group of friends, whom you adored, didn’t bat an eye when you left a party early because you were ‘tired’ or ‘not in the mood’, despite the fact that you loved parties. It hurt a little that they didn’t see a problem, and that only made the problem worse.

The first person to notice was JJ, your loving boyfriend. The blonde boy was the light of your life, but as your own issues began to overtake you, you found yourself pushing him away unintentionally. He would send texts, asking you to come over and see him. He'd invite you to come out to dinner with the pogues at The Wreck. He’d beg for your permission to show up at your house because he missed you so damn much.

Time after time, you replied with perfectly crafted excuses that left him concerned, but with no questions. That’s all you needed to accomplish, really. If he didn’t ask any questions, then you’d be fine.

The routine was working out pretty well for you in the beginning. JJ and the rest of the group would accept your excuses and go along with what you told them, even if they found it slightly suspicious.

But, after a while, your constant absence finally hit them. It was concerning, especially when it came to someone like you. Your parents weren’t strict, so it wasn’t an obedience thing. You loved parties, and were quite social, so it wasn’t a social anxiety thing. They wondered at their hangouts what could be wrong, but none of them could come up with a viable explanation.

Texts from your friends were lighting up your phone at a constant rate, but you trained yourself to ignore them. Your mind had convinced you that all of them hated you, and were only messaging you as a joke, or because they felt bad.

Though your brain tried to tell itself that JJ didn’t love you either, you were fighting hard against that idea. Even the slightest notion of your boyfriend no longer being interested in you broke you down into tears, so you tried to allow the thought to cross your mind as little as possible.

He texted you every day, asking if you were okay and trying to make plans. He texted you good morning, and goodnight, as well as a few other times throughout the day. He was a wonderful boyfriend, and you appreciated him, but you didn’t have the energy to show him the attention he deserved. You texted back for a while, but eventually gave up, leaving him on read almost every single time.

For the last few weeks, JJ had been broken up with worry. He worried that you were mad at him, that you hated him. He worried that you were leaving him. So, he showed up at your house.

As soon as he walked in your room, he could tell that something was incredibly off. You were normally a somewhat neat person, but your room was in complete disarray. Clothes littered the floor, empty plates and half-eaten bags of chips tossed absentmindedly to various locations.

And you. You looked like you hadn’t changed or bathed in weeks. Your hair was messy, and your face looked as if you’d been crying for years.

When you saw his face, your mask slipped on without a second thought.

“JJ! Hi, babes!”

“Hi, angel.” He replied, concern evident in his voice as he spoke. “I haven’t really seen you in forever. Are you okay?”

You nodded immediately, concealing your true feelings. “I’m okay. I’ve been taking up extra shifts at work because I need money for college soon. I’m trying to save up early. I’ve been so busy and exhausted, I just haven’t had the time or energy to see anybody.”

Lie. You got fired from your job a month ago because you called out ‘sick’ too many times.

JJ was still suspicious, but went accepted your story just as he had many times before.

“Alright, babe. I just miss you a lot. Take a break soon. Are you working tonight?”

“No.” You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him again.

“Well, then, you’re coming to hang out.”

You shook your head quickly, pulling your hands away from his. “No thanks, JJ. I had a late shift last night and I’m exhausted. Plus, I have an early shift tomorrow morning, and I refuse to go in hungover.”

JJ took your hands back into his, meeting your eyes. “You don’t have to stay late, and you don’t have to drink. Just come for a little bit. Like, literally for an hour. We all just miss you so much.”

When he was looking into your eyes like that, you couldn’t help but say yes. Though you knew you’d come to regret it, the smile on his face after you agreed made it all seem worth it at the time.

“Yes! Okay, my love, I have to go deliver some stuff for Pope’s dad. The party starts at ten, so I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty.”

You didn’t say anything, simply nodding to indicate that you’d heard him and understood what he said.

“Bye, baby. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It was barely a whisper, but it seemed to be enough for JJ. He gave you one final wave before exiting your bedroom and closing the door in his wake.

When he had gone, your anxiety began to cover you. You had come to hate gatherings and parties, despite the fact that they used to be your main source of happiness and excitement. How were you going to make it through this party?

Sighing, you turned to your bedside table, moving around empty cups to peer at the time on your alarm clock. It was hard to read due to the tears in your eyes blurring your vision slightly. After a moment, you were able to decipher the numbers on the screen. 8:06 PM. You had approximately an hour and half to get ready before your boyfriend would be there to pick you up.

The first half hour, you decided, would be used for praying you were able to make it through this night.

---

About 70 minutes after your boyfriend’s visit, the clock on your bedside table read 9:12 PM. You sat at your vanity, brushing on small amounts of makeup. You didn’t want anything too crazy like you used to do; it just didn’t feel right anymore.

The same thing applied to your outfit. After almost an hour of trying things on, you went for something simple. A sage green tank top, your favorite blue jean shorts, and a basic oversized white cardigan kie had given you. The outfit was basic, but cute nonetheless. You completed the look with your pair of slip-on vans that were so beat up they could barely be classified as white anymore.

Your hair, which you normally would curl or style for parties, had been brushed through and left down. That was all you had the energy for. The party hadn’t even started yet, and you were already exhausted.

At least you had showered. It had been over a week since you last bathed, and this party gave you incentive to take care of yourself. That’s the only thing you were grateful for when it came to this party.

As you finished getting ready, you promised yourself that you would try your best to enjoy the night.

JJ had come to pick you up as he told you he would, at nine-thirty on the dot. He was always careful to be very punctual when it comes to you. He said you looked pretty when you got in his car, and the small compliment warmed your heart significantly.

The party was smaller than your normal ones. The pogues were all there, and they were all happy to finally see you again. You greeted them kindly and took your seat beside JJ, wanting to make the night go by as quickly as possible. You had hardly even arrived and you were already anxious.

As the night went by, your anxiety only got worse. You began to zone out, not paying attention to the conversation. You snapped back to reality when the whole group laughed at some joke someone told, and you just chuckled nervously along, hoping nobody noticed you weren’t being attentive.

A few hours went by, slowly but surely, and you decided that you had to be done for the night. You had been on the brink of a panic attack for the last hour, and it was getting harder to fight it off.

“Alright, guys, I’m tired. I’m probably gonna head home. I’ll see y’all later.” You announced, standing up from your seat. Immediately, JJ stood up with you, leaning into your ear.

“I’m too drunk to drive, babe. Do you think you can wait a little longer for me to sober up?”

You shook your head lightly, pushing him away. “No, it’s ok, babes. I’m just gonna walk. I don’t want to pull you away from the party anyways.”

A look of concern took over the blonde’s face. “I don’t like that. You can’t walk by yourself at night, it’s not safe.”

“I’ll be fine, J.” You assured him. “I live, like, a five minute walk away from here. We’re super close to my house. It’ll be okay.”

JJ continued to insist that you wait, but you insisted on leaving. You reassured him multiple times that you’d be alright, kissed him, grabbed your cardigan and left.

That’s how you ended up in your current position, sobbing into your cardigan sleeve as the night grew colder and colder. You were still walking along the road to your house.

You hadn’t realized how cold it was when you left. Maybe it’s because you;d been sitting up against JJ, his body heat mixing with yours to help keep the both of you warm. Now, you were all alone, with nothing but your thin cardigan to protect you from the chill of october night.

As you walked, and cried, you wondered what it would be like to just stop breathing.

Your thoughts were halted by the sound of footsteps pounding the pavement behind you. Immediately, you tensed up, suddenly scared. Who was running on the streets late at night, besides her? Who had a reason, other than kidnapping or killing someone?

You turned slowly around, and your body relaxed as you realized you recognized the person barreling towards you.

A familiar blonde boy was running in your direction, seemingly desperate to catch up with you. You stopped walking, giving him time to meet you.

“JJ?” You were talking as soon as he was close enough to hear. “What are you doing, babe? You’re supposed to be at the party.”

“I’m walking you home. I’ll go back once I know you’re safe.” He explained. He looked almost triumphant at the fact that he’d caught up with you, but his expression changed to one of concern after he got a good look at your face.

“Y/N… have you been crying?”

You shook your head, almost in instinct, but he saw right through you.

“Yes, you have. Baby, what’s wrong? Did one of us say something? What happened?”

As you looked in his eyes, those beautiful blue orbs as rocky and deep as the ocean, you felt your mask begin to slip.

“I’m not okay, J. I haven’t been for a long time.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, and the tears came almost immediately after you’d finished.

JJ took you into his arms and held you close, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there on the side of the road.

JJ let you sob for a little while, just holding you and murmuring sweet words to you. Eventually, he pulled away and looked directly into your eyes.

“I’m here for you, okay? We’ll get through this, my love. I don’t know exactly what’s going on yet, but we’ll figure it out. Together. I promise. I love you so much, Y/N. So fucking much.”

He pulled you back into his chest, and in that moment, it dawned on you.

This wasn’t the end. This pain wouldn’t last for evermore. It would pass, and JJ would be there with you when it did.

So, for the first time in a while, you finally felt okay.

~~~~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs are super helpful and super appreciated. LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!

Happy holidays! - Lillia

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank fanfic #outer banks fanfic #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank angst

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phoenix-downer · 3 years

Text

The Bucket List

After Sora’s return, Riku helps Naminé fulfill the items on her bucket list.

~2100 words. Post-Kingdom Hearts III and Melody of Memory. Rikunami/Namiku. Romance, Fluff, Friendship. Naminé POV. Written for @memoryofpromises.

Golden light danced along the walls and rested on Naminé’s face. The breeze from the open window brought in the smell of sea-salt, and she sighed deeply. Having a body of her own again was truly special, even though it had been over a year since she’d gotten one. Every day was a new adventure, and she couldn’t wait to see what this one had in store.

“Morning, Naminé,” Kairi said as she yawned and stretched. Her red hair stuck out from all different sides of her head, and she smiled sleepily. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.” Naminé sat up and rubbed her eyes. One of Riku’s baggy hoodies served as her nightgown, and her cheeks flushed pink as she thought about the time he’d given it to her to wear. Since then, she had a growing collection of his hoodies and jackets that supplemented her own wardrobe nicely.

“Did you enjoy your first sleepover?” Kairi asked as she swept her hair back into a ponytail.

“I did! It was a lot of fun.”

They’d stayed up late, watching movies, eating candy and popcorn as they talked about all sorts of things. Another item Naminé could cross off of her bucket list. Now that Sora was home, safe and sound, they were all able to focus on just enjoying life again. Soon after they’d gotten him back, Kairi had helped Naminé make the bucket list, and now her friend was helping her do all the things on it, one by one.

“We’ll have to invite the other girls over sometime so we can have a proper slumber party,” Kairi said. “We’ll need to figure out a time that works for everyone, but I’m sure we can make it happen.”

“Thank you, Kairi, really. You don’t have to do all this for me—”

“I know. But I want to. You’re my friend.”

Naminé smiled. It was so nice to have Kairi for a friend. Before, she’d felt so alone, and now she had so many friends that there was never a dull moment. Her Gummiphone was always lighting up with messages and photos and phone calls, and her schedule was filled with school and dates with Riku and plans to hang out with friends.

“So, today you said you wanted to go shopping,” Kairi said as she rummaged through her closet for something to wear. “And that means we can dress up if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much,” Naminé said as she got up from Kairi’s trundle bed. It was nice to go from having one dress to a full wardrobe of clothes, and now Kairi wanted to take her shopping to get even more clothes.

Together they got ready for the day. Naminé went with a simple blue dress with yellow accents that Kairi let her borrow with sandals to match. That was the nice thing about being Kairi’s (former) Nobody; they could swap clothes no problem. Kairi swept her hair up into a French twist and secured it with a clip, then gave her some paopu fruit earrings to wear. When she was helping Naminé put the finishing touches on her makeup, the doorbell rang.

“Huh, I wonder who that could be,” Kairi said, but there was a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, and her lips were twitching.

“Kairi?”

“Why don’t we go see who it is,” Kairi said as she grabbed Naminé’s hand and led her downstairs. Naminé’s heart pounded; could it be—

“Surprise!” Kairi squealed as she opened the door. Standing there, wearing a nice shirt and slacks, was Riku. He broke into a smile as soon as he saw Naminé, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she returned his smile.

“I assume we’re not going shopping?” she asked Kairi. It was strange but also a little thrilling, how much trouble she had looking away from Riku when he was nearby.

“We can, some other time. But yes, today is supposed to be for the two of you. Riku just wanted it to be a surprise, and he recruited me to help.”

“You don’t know how hard it was not to say anything,” Riku said. “I’m… not very good at keeping secrets. But I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did,” Naminé said. “I didn’t suspect a thing.”

They just smiled at each other for a few moments until Kairi cleared her throat. “Better get going, lovebirds, or you won’t have time to do everything Riku has planned.”

That snapped them out of their reverie, and Riku blushed as Naminé ducked her head and giggled. They hadn’t even left Kairi’s house yet, and they were already getting so distracted. Naminé went back inside to grab her purse, and with that, she and Riku were off.

“Where are you taking me first?” she asked as Riku led her down the winding path away from Kairi’s house on the hill. It was amazing how comfortable it felt to hold his hand like this now. She still remembered the day when he’d first offered his hand and she’d taken it, the day she’d gotten a body of her own again and a precious reminder that she wasn’t alone.

“To the Gummi Ship,” Riku said as he gave her one of his charming half-smiles.

“And after that?”

“You’ll see. And no cheating and looking at my memories,” he teased. “I’ve been to the places I plan on taking you today, so I’m sure you’ll find them in there.”

Her lips twitched. “Me? Look at your memories? I would never.”

“The innocent act doesn’t work so well on me, you know,” Riku said with a laugh. “It might fool Sora and Kairi, but I can see right through it.”

She bit her lip and stopped walking, and Riku turned around to look at her.

“What is it?” he asked, his face twisted into a frown.

“You know I wouldn’t look at your memories without your permission, right?”

His eyes softened. “Yeah, of course. I trust you, Naminé.”

She relaxed at his words. Sometimes she wondered how the others could trust her at all, with the powers she had. But Riku really did mean what he said, of that she was sure. He had always been honest and open with her about his feelings and struggles, so she was trying to do the same.

She found his hand again, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“C’mon, let’s go,” he said, and she nodded and let him lead the way once more.

Their first destination was Twilight Town. Riku took her to Le Grand Bistro, where they ate a delicious lunch consisting of Pumpkin Velouté and Sea Bass en Papillote, with Berries au Fromage for dessert. The weather was perfect as they dined outside, just the right temperature with a light breeze blowing through, and Naminé sighed as she set her fork down and patted her mouth with her napkin.

“Thank you, Riku. The food was delicious.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “I used to walk past here sometimes, when we were looking for a way to help Sora. It’s nice to be able to finally eat here myself. It was something I’ve been wanting to do for a while.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, then found her hand again. They just gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment, until Naminé had to look away because she was getting too flustered.

“I’ll go pay up, and then we can go to the next place,” he said.

The next place was still in Twilight Town. The little outdoor theater, to be exact, the one tucked into a side street that showed the latest cartoons and movies. Naminé had never been to a movie theater before, and she watched enraptured as the action unfolded onscreen.

“It’s so big,” she whispered. She knew from Kairi’s memories what a movie theater was like, but seeing one in person was completely different from seeing it in someone else’s memories.

When she glanced at Riku, he wasn’t really watching the movie at all. She caught him looking at her instead, and that just made a blush creep up her cheeks once more. She found his hand again and worked up the courage to lean against his shoulder. Yet another thing on her bucket list she could scratch off.

Wait a moment. Was this… on purpose? Did Riku somehow know about her bucket list? And if he did, was he trying to help her do the things on it, one by one?

She shyly looked up at him, and he smiled again and squeezed her hand. “Enjoying the movie?” he whispered.

She nodded and turned her attention back to the screen. There was only one way to find out if he was, in fact, working off of her bucket list. She’d have to wait and see where he took her next. But if she was right, there was something on the list she wanted to experience, more than anything, and she couldn’t wait to see if it would come true.

When the movie was over, Riku led her up to Sunset Hill. The view from here was as beautiful as it had been the last time she’d seen it. Golden light flooded the sleepy town stretching out below, and the sky above was filled with fluffy clouds tinged purple. Beyond the town were green hills as far as the eye could see, and Naminé found herself longing to sketch the scene before them. They sat on one of the benches and savored the moment till at last Riku spoke up.

“Do you remember the last time we were up here?” he asked. The breeze ruffled through his hair and clothes, and Naminé was very glad he was dressed like himself this time instead of shrouded in a dark cloak. His eyes were their natural green, and he was looking at her in a way that made her heart flutter.

“Yes, of course,” she said, pressing her fingers together. “How could I forget? You spared me and saved my life.”

DiZ had ordered Riku to dispose of her, but Riku had defied his orders, and in doing so, allowed her to escape. That was the first of many times he’d shown her kindness.

His face was very serious when he spoke again. “Of course I did. It was the right thing to do. I knew in my heart that you were your own person, and I couldn’t just ignore what my heart was telling me.”

“This was the first time, wasn’t it?” Naminé said softly. “The first time we realized… there was something more between us. Against all odds, a human and a Nobody had developed feelings for each other.”

“Yeah. I realized I couldn’t bear to lose you. Funny how that meant letting you go.”

Naminé smiled shyly and found his hand. “But now we’re together again, at long last. It all worked out in the end.”

Even after the long separation they’d endured, they’d found each other again. Even after they’d spent more than a year apart, searching for a way to save Sora, their work was done at long last, and they could finally rest side-by-side, hand-in-hand.

Her eyes searched his face. He’d fallen silent, like even a whisper risked ruining such a special moment. Her gaze wandered to his lips, full and soft. How would it feel if he bent down and—

Oh. Oh my. He must’ve been wondering the same thing too, because he was leaning closer and closer, his breath warm on her cheek. She tilted her head and let her eyes flutter shut so she could focus completely on how it felt when their lips met. Despite how sweet and gentle the kiss was, it still felt like an electric jolt went coursing through her body at the connection. To think that kissing could feel so wonderful. No wonder people liked to do it so much.

When it was over, she opened her eyes and smiled. Riku was smiling, too, and he rested his hand against her cheek and gave her a long, lingering kiss on the forehead before straightening. It was funny, how that forehead kiss made her melt even further. She found his hand again, and they sat there, gazing into each other’s eyes, the scenery around them all but forgotten.

As nice as her bucket list ideas were, nothing compared to getting to do them with him. When he was by her side, each moment was a wonderful adventure that would soon become a precious memory.

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A/N: A big thank you to the mods, Kai and Sera, for organizing everything! And thank you to the artists and other writers for creating such beautiful pieces! I really enjoyed being a part of this zine and seeing everyone’s lovely works 💜

#rikunami #namiku #riku #namine #naminé #kingdom hearts #kh fanfiction #phoenix writes #phoenix downer #memory of promises #memory of promises zine #mop zine #mopzine #romance #fluff #friendship #kairi #long post

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lazysimp · 3 years

Text

Dark Clouds (+18) /// Shoto x Fem Reader

Click HERE to read the male version

Rating: Explicit 18+ Only Minors DNI

Summary: You love Shoto more than anything but what if you were the only thing standing in between him and his dreams? Smut+Angst

A prequel to Cloud Nine

Word count: 3k+

Warnings/tags: Angst, Blackmail, Morning Sex, Breakup, Soft Dom Shoto, Praise, Explicit sexual content, Oral sex (receiving), She/Her pronouns, All characters are adults.

masterlist┃AO3

“Oh fuck Shoto! Please just a little more,” You beg, your back arching off the bed as you push his head down. Your fiancé had made it a habit to wake you up with his tongue delving in your cunt, licking up your juices like it was his last meal.

After living together for a month you thought he would finally start to calm down but his need for you had only grown. He had barely left the apartment, deciding to take a few personal days to spoil you instead of working on climbing the ranks. You tried to convince him to focus more on his career, but he would drop to his knees every time you brought it up.

“I love this pretty pussy,” He groaned, swiping his tongue through your soaked folds until he found your aching bud. His lips closed around your clit, sucking it into his mouth while his fingers teased your dripping hole.

He released your swollen clit to move his mouth to your hole and gather more of your addicting taste with his tongue. “My baby has such a good pussy. So wet and tasty, and it’s all mine.”

You let out a whine at his praise, you wanted to always belong to him. To never leave his side as he rose to meet his dreams.

He added a third finger into your tight hole, stretching you open in preparation for his cock. You hiss at the slight burn but it fades quickly as his expert fingers began to fall in temperature, soothing the ache. He had always been so considerate during sex, always making sure you came at least once before he ever tried to enter you.

The first time the two of you had sex was not the greatest but it was a moment in your life you would never forget. For hours he explored your body, experimenting and exploring your body to understand exactly what you liked. By the end of the night, you were both absolutely exhausted, barely able to move.

His tongue returned to your clit, teasing the side of it with the tip of his tongue as his fingers continue to pump into your tight cunt. Your breathing grows frantic and your body becomes tight as the pleasure swelled inside you. You could feel your thighs tremble around his head and your hands shake.

He smiled into your pussy as your sweet hole trembled around his fingers, his baby was close. Remembering to not speed up he kept his movements consistent, listening for your little mewls to direct his touch.

As your breathing grew more labored and body tense he took your little berry into his mouth, sucking on it like a tit. It was the final straw, he watched in awe as you fell apart. Your pussy milking his fingers while your clit wiggled in his mouth with each clench.

Normally he would keep his mouth on your cunt, cleaning up your orgasm with his tongue but he had to be at work in twenty minutes. Grudgingly he moved his mouth from your heat and rose to his knees. He gently slid his hands under you and flipped you over, exposing your mouthwatering ass to his view.

Holding his breath to stop from cumming he lifted your hips up and pushed your back down. It looked as though you were presenting yourself to him. While he loved watching your face as you cum, this view definitely had its perks.

“Shoto,” You whine, dragging him out of his thoughts. “Fuck, I need more.”

Determined to have you cum around his cock he reached around and slid through your slick folds to find your aching bud. He let out a sly grin watching your body jerk as he teased your button, knowing the extra stimulation would send you right over the edge.

“Please, Shoto, please,” You begged, the tight coil inside your chest reeling tighter with each lazy circle around your clit. You lose the ability to speak, only moans leaving your lips.

“That’s it, that is my good girl. So perfect for me. I want you to cum on my cock while I watch,” He says hoarsely behind you. That was all it took, the spring inside you snapped sending you spiraling into oblivion.

Your toes curl in uncontrollably as you scream into the pillow, the brutal waves of pleasure crashing into you. You couldn’t even breathe as your rode out each wave. His fingers did not stop teasing your clit, they teased you through the high. Making you ride the wave as long as possible before his thrusts started to fall out of rhythm.