#topv vertigo
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Vertigo: Chapter 11: Hallowed Ground
Vertigo: Chapter 11
Hallowed Ground
Jim Mason x Reader
Warnings for this chapter: Intense descriptions of drug use, overdose, and implications of suicide.
Summary: Waves, rocks, fire, salt, stars.
Notes: I cannot believe I’ve taken so long with this. It’s been finished in my drafts for...months now. Interaction with writers is so important, guys! It truly keeps me going.
Anyway, this is dark. PLEASE don’t feel obligated to read if anything in the warnings is triggering to you or makes you uncomfortable! It’s a bit of a departure from my usual style, but I enjoyed making some parts of this chapter a bit more ambiguous and abstract.
I hope you enjoy xx
Word count: 6.1K
Gif credit: (Unfortunately, I can’t find the source of this beautiful gif. If anyone knows, please tell me and I’ll credit them straight away.)
-----
It was a grey morning. The sun not yet risen, but light enough that stars were hidden in the illumination. Overpowered by something greater. It was still. Everything unmoving. Stagnant.
And for once she was happy about that. Not the ebb and flow of water, the waves, but something that could maybe give them a little more time. It’s how Medina knew something was desperately wrong in the universe-that she was okay with this stillness. She lived for motion, the rocking sensation, whirlpools, rips, anything that moved her but that morning gratitude settled in her chest for the crushing calm. A lake. Not the ocean.
They couldn’t find him. Jim.
A missing person couldn’t be reported until it was twenty-four hours after the time they went missing, she thought. It had only been about seven. But someone could go lots of places in seven hours. Lots of things could happen in seven hours.
The cold started to seep into Medina’s thin jacket, her nose running, eyes red. She didn’t bother blaming her tears on the cold. Jim was gone. She could feel it in her bones. In her soul. She didn’t know why she was still rushing because she knew they were looking for a body. Seven hours was much too long post mortem to do anything about it.
She bet that he was cold, too.
They had decided to split up- to cover more ground, was what she told Y/N but it was really because Y/N still was hoping and Medina knew she couldn’t live with false belief. Maybe it was so she could cry a little, too. They checked the beaches first-it’s where she thought he would go. To the water. To her.
Beaches were strange, she mused. It was all really just one, right? Stretching along a coast...people just decided to name different parts of it. Off topic. It was weird. Her mind wanted to think about anything, anything, but Jim. Cold and blue and grey with his eyes open staring at nothing. His hair curly from the sea air, hands tensed, knuckles covered in dried blood, thin skin stretched over bone. Maybe the sea started lapping at him. It was going to be high tide soon and the winter waves were high. Off topic.
She walked along the shore, where earth met water, the temperature icy but reminding her of why she was there. For the first few hours, she ran. Ran through the sand and the dunes and over fences screaming. She screamed until she tasted blood. He was alive then. His pulse living inside her. The second heartbeat, because they always came in twos. The best things did.
Now, she was tired. And he was dead. So it didn’t matter anyway.
Medina walked, letting the water splash up soaking her jeans. Good. Along the way, she collected sea glass, throwing the ones that weren’t smooth enough back into the water. Someone else will find it when it’s ready. She walked in a straight line pretending a balance beam was under her. You always imagine the weirdest things, Medina. When his voice echoed too loud she turned backward and walked that way. What? No remark this time, Jim?
She looked down the coast both ways. Empty.
She was empty, too.
--
She smelled burning. Fire.
“Jim, what are you doing?” Medina whispered out her window down to Jim who was crouched next to a bonfire he had created in their backyard.
“Oh hey! Come down here,” he shouted, much too loud for the hour. Medina’s phone said it was close to three in the morning.
Choosing to placate him was easy. He was….she couldn’t tell. But he was talking to her. So he was probably high. She held onto whatever shred of hope was left that he wasn’t. She made it down into the yard and sat next to him without a word. They never had to speak, but she found herself unable to think of anything to say to him.
Jim flipped through the stack of papers he had next to him, licking his thumb, then flipping again. She almost laughed. He had them organized by age but he was mostly done by then, just finishing up when his sister noticed. She looked to him with wide eyes, a weary smile on her face and he felt his chest tighten. Pity. He was suddenly reminded why he was doing all of this.
He found that he liked the warmth that radiated onto his skin from the flame. Orange and hot. Not blue and cold. It was like the sun from that coffee shop. He’d miss that. Added to the list. But it would be okay. In the end, anyway. The smoke curled up into the sky but he tried not to look. He’d miss that, too. The stars. Added to the list.
Medina was looking up, though. Looking for him up there, he knew. Because that was the thing- he wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was doing. Each pill each line perfectly planned to destroy him in the best way. Sometimes Jim was reckless, but not with this. Methodological down to a science. After all, he knew his limits by then.
The way that it hurt them though….wasn’t accounted for. Y/N...Medina. That’s why he wished it was done already. So they wouldn’t have to hurt for him anymore. Y/N...I want to see her. Stop being a selfish asshole, she hates you. I don’t care. I want to see her smile a few more times.
“What are you doin’?” Medina asked, finally looking to her brother.
Jim sighed. “Just getting rid of some shit.” He lifted one of the stacks he had left. This one labeled ‘Kindergarden?’ because he couldn’t be quite sure.
Medina leaned in and tried to read the label but he pulled it away before she could. Hearing him speak, she was almost sure he wasn’t high. And he’s talking again… A flicker of optimism.
“What is that?” she asked, moving faster than him, and managing a grip on the stack. In her haste, a few of the smaller pieces of paper fell to the ground next to her. On instinct, she reached down to grab it and found that it wasn’t a paper at all but a photograph.
The two of them, sitting on the steps of their home back in Michigan. It was the first day of school, she remembered that day. She had cried because she wanted a blue backpack, like Jim. Jim had cried because he was scared. Over waffles, before the bus came, she promised she would watch out for him-make sure nothing bad happened.
Her stomach rolled, nausea creeping in.
“Oops,” Jim sang as he threw another pile into the flames.
“No, stop!” Without thinking she reached into the fire to pull out the photos and small tokens of their childhood together. The only markers of their history besides the memories they held too close to share. “Fucking,” she hissed as the papers fell to the cool grass under her feet, the small flames dying quickly, the pages still scarred and curled at the edges. “What are you doing? Jim, this stuff’s important.”
“Why?” He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and used an ember from the burning pile to light it. “It’s not like I’m gonna need it.”
A pile further from the rest caught her eye. “Is that your birth certificate? And passport?” She rushed over to it, smoke clouding her face. He didn’t bother to try to beat her to it and took another lazy drag off the cigarette balanced between his fingers. “Jim,” she said a little more firm, trying to recapture his attention back from the curling pages in the fire. “What are you doing? Really?”
“I’m just not going to need it, Medina. I’m finally getting out of here.” He smiled. The first one she had seen that wasn’t full of malice in forever, it seemed.
She hesitated, wary of what he was implying. “Where are you going, then?”
“Right now? Probably over to Y/N’s. ‘Miss her.” He stood abruptly, forgetting his plans to keep burning now that Medina would inevitably put a stop to it. She stood back, hands still tracing the edge of his birth certificate.
“If you’re leaving...you’re going to need this,” she whispered and held up the slip of paper.
He flicked the cigarette into the flames that were starting to die down, running out of kindling. Another smile graced his lips but it was dampened by the shake of his head. No.
“I won’t need it.” He winked and stepped closer. She gasped when she felt him pull her into a hug, arms wrapped tight. “You’re my favorite, you know that?”
That was what he always said to her. ‘You’re my favorite.’ She never bothered to ask his ‘favorite’ what? But she really didn’t have to ask. Because he was her favorite, too.
She held onto him, probably longer than he intended the hug to go on for, but he didn’t pull away. Unable to help herself she placed her ear to his chest. His heartbeat was there. The sound that she had grown accustomed to in those nine months sharing a womb with him provided little comfort. He slowly started detangling himself from her, after dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She felt the sinewy muscles pull away and she wanted nothing more than to grab them back around her. Just one more time.
Without another word, he spun on his heel and managed to gracefully clear the fence around their yard, headed to Y/N’s house. He managed a small wave back to his sister, over the shoulder but still moving forward.
She grew cold without him there, despite the warmth coming from the dying fire. He liked fire. Not water.
They had gone camping a few times throughout their childhood and if it was anything Medina remembered it was to not douse the flames with water before retiring for the night. It’s supposed to burn itself out. She resisted the urge to cool the embers with the seawater that was so close to their home. Unable to sleep until the embers were blackened and cold, she stayed awake, watching them burn from her bedroom window.
--
Y/N had the heat blaring in her car-too stuffy and warm, but the outside was too cold. The worst part was the getting in and out of the car. It wasn’t enough time to completely warm her to the bones so her hands remained chapped and stiff gripping the steering wheel, anything to stay grounded.
Her and Medina opted to separate. Sure, ‘cover more ground’ but also because Medina’s slow glances and supreme uninterest were not helping the situation. Y/N knew Medina need to be near the water so she was stuck driving looking for him.
The roads and houses didn’t change when everything else had. Nothing changed in Palos Verdes, she noticed. Each paved street turning onto more asphalt, leading to a tan house with a red tiled roof. Carbon copies. A wave of nausea settled in her belly as she continued looking into the grey where everything started melding together. The red roof, house, street, sand, ocean-all became one under the blanket of fog.
She tasted blood and realized that she was gnawing on her lip. Briefly, she was about to ask Jim to bum a cigarette but her blood ran impossibly colder when she remembered the empty passenger seat. The vacancy was palpable.
When she reached the end of the street, a dead end leading to a trail to the ocean, she pulled over, hearing the tires spin in the sand. Before she could even hear the car door slam behind her she felt the biting cold on her hands and face. It wasn’t enough of a distraction from the nausea and the ache in her eyes, almost too exhausted to keep going. But she knew she would no matter how bad she really did just want to stop. Let it happen. If he wanted it this bad...shouldn’t they respect it? Stop letting him get in your head.
The walk down to the beach was a longer one than she was ready for, ice in her veins but fire licking her skin. This cove was opposite the side Medina was looking on. The coves were nice because once standing inside it, enclosed on the three sides by high bluffs, there was a clear view of the definite shore. No stretching landscapes, sand extending in both directions, ocean in the other, just the semicircle of beach. Almost completely enclosed, the only way out through the ocean. The bile rose in her throat before she could stop it and she retched into the hilly dune off to the side of the worn sand trail. “Fuck,” she muttered to nobody while licking the back of her hand to rid the acidic taste.
He wasn’t there. She could see that in the first few steps onto the soft ground. The only reason her feet kept pulling her forward was the pile of black ash that stained the creamy expanse. A beach fire, no doubt. As she grew closer she saw the emptied beer bottles haphazardly strewn about, cigarette butts lazily thrown into the edge of the circle of ash, but no Jim. It was a foolish thought that maybe there was some massive misunderstanding and he had somehow wound up down here with some of the boys. But the peeling logs that once held warmth were cold and damp from the morning dew, she reached a hand down to make sure it wasn’t warm, lit recently...a sign that maybe he was there earlier. Not alone and...just not alone.
Exhausted, she kneeled next to the blackened sand, jeans now damp, too. They had fires there. There was always a fire when they were together.
--
It had been a long day that extended into an even longer night. Jim still radiated heat, probably from the slight sunburn he was sporting after spending all day on the beach as she felt herself press into him to avoid the summer chill that came when the sun finally went down. A group of the usuals surrounded a small fire someone had managed to build in the center of the cove, warm oranges spreading over the dunes on onto the bluffs.
The party had lasted from sunset onward but once it hit closer to sunrise than sunset their friends started clearing out either falling over themselves or linked arms with whoever they were planning on spending the remainder of the night with. And that’s how Jim found himself half laying against one of the makeshift benches, really just washed up driftwood, Y/N comfortably tucked under his arm.
“I don’t know why you like it so much.”
“Hm?” She looked up at him, a little groggy from the booze that was starting to lose its effect. Jim liked it when she was like this, a little sleepy and vulnerable, but completely herself.
“The sunrises. You’re exhausted, let’s just go-” he started.
“No, no it’s almost up. Just relax,” she sighed and further leaned into him, preventing him from getting up even if he wanted to. She felt Jim laugh a little and drop a kiss to her hair, wild from a day of surfing and playing in the sand.
“It’s all new, you know?” she whispered, afraid to disturb the universe.
Jim nodded, but was still unsure of what she meant. ‘It’s all new’. He wasn’t a fan of new, preferring the comfort of worn in tee shirts, old cartoons, the same jacket for years now. They were familiar, something grounding. New wasn’t...good. New was moving to Palos Verdes. His mother’s new personality, his father’s new wife, his sisters abandonment. Because she really did. And he hates to blame her, but she’s the reason he became...whatever it is.
His mother was only the spark that lit the flame. Medina and her newfound obsessions and distance were the true catalyst. And his father. And maybe his mother...maybe there wasn’t even a spark. Maybe it just happened. It wasn’t a spark, it was sinking. His pockets weighed down with pills, sinking until he hit the seafloor, salt filling his lungs.
“You like new beginnings,” he stated matter of factly, a sort of revelation.
“And you don’t.” She knew him better than she let on. An innate feeling, not something she could explain or reason but she felt Jim in her soul.
“I like some new beginnings,” he said a little defensive even though he knew he had no reason to be. She could read him like a book. “I like this.” He nodded between them.
“I like this, too,” she laughed, liquor still on her breath. After a moment, Jim saw the clarity in her eyes, all traces of tipsy gone. “I really like this, Jimmy.”
His fingers cradled the back of her head, thumb rubbing small circles, and tilted her face up towards him. He didn’t like the change from the night before and sighed, the irony not lost on him. Last night the fire threw orange shadows across her cheekbones and it made her glow. A few times he caught himself glancing over at her looking like some ethereal being. She was unreal.
But at her favorite time of day, her face tilted up to the sky, up to him, a grey washed over her. She always tried to explain that it was soothing to her, the part of the day when the world was still, quiet, grey. Nothing truly existed in those precious minutes. Jim found it almost morbid. They greying landscape with fog rolling in to blanket reality. She let out a hum and Jim watched her eyes flicker shut. He had to look away.
Nothing existed at this part of the day, though. That was the one part he could get behind. Not existing.
“What do you think is gonna happen?” Jim asked, voice soft.
“What do you mean?” She shifted, eyes cracking open to meet a view of him looking out onto the waves.
“To us.” His face shifted into something of being haunted by something that hasn’t happened yet. Y/N felt her stomach clench.
“...I don’t know, Jim. Can we just...be?” she said knowing she was dancing around the topic.
She was surprised when Jim gently shook his head. “I need to know there’s something for us. I need something to hold onto.” The last part was supposed to stay in his head but the lingering effects of the alcohol made his lips loose.
“We’re…” she trailed off, thinking. It wasn’t a secret, Jim’s fear of commitment, so this was new. “We’re gonna be fine.”
“But really,” he said with a little more emphasis as he straightened his back against the driftwood. Y/N rearranged herself accordingly and sat between his legs, his chest to her back, both looking out from the cove. The grey morning was turning into a yellowed hue as the sun peeked through the clouds that decorated the open sky.
“I think we’re going in the right direction, babe.” She tilted her head back to rest on his shoulder, trying to look at him even though the angle made it impossible. He did that on purpose.
“I just want like--I just want it all. With you,” he stuttered.
She took a deep breath and Jim could feel his heart palpitate. “I do, too.”
“Like-everything. A stupid house and a dog and like I don’t know. I want to like...do taxes with you?”
A laugh passed her lips. “Taxes?”
“Yeah, taxes,” he sighed, giggling and felt his face burn. “Just like, even the stupid shit. I want that. With you.” He was raw, an exposed nerve on display for her to do with that she chose.
“I want a stupid house, too. And a stupid dog, and kids-one day. And sure, taxes,” she mused maybe a little too quiet for him to hear properly.
His eyes were still cast out onto the horizon, scanning for something it looked like.
“I mean, let’s not rush things.” She gripped his hand that was resting around her waist, completely wrapped in his embrace. “We have time.”
Jim nodded but she didn’t fail to notice the small crease in his brow, his tell for when he was overthinking. “Let’s...start with coffee.” Y/N detangled herself from the cage of Jim’s arms, missing the warmth but consoling herself with the thought of Jim inevitably smiling into the warm drink.
Jim looked up to her. The outline of her body blocking the sun that kept rising, hand extended towards him to help him up. He couldn’t help but place a small kiss to her palm before letting her help him rise. He noted the sand stuck to the jeans she was wearing and couldn’t resist playfully swatting her ass a few times as they made their way back to his car.
“Just trying to help! Can’t have you covered in sand all day,” he laughed as he went in for another tap-just missing and grazing her thigh.
Her little squeals made him smile.
--
It was the wrong beach, not the one he was going for, anyway. But was he going for a beach at all? Did it matter? Yeah.
He remembered there were stairs but not much else. And then it was dark and cold and the water was there. He was there? Fuck.
There were the pills shoved in his back pocket...that happened at some point. Right?
He reached into the jeans pocket and was met with emptiness. Well really fuck. It made sense, he supposed. The way his heart was going so fast he swore it was going to rip his ribcage open, his breathing was slow though and that was confusing. But the drooping eyelids and desire to just fucking lay down was all too familiar. He must have at some point because he felt some sort of grass or plant stuck in his hair.
Jim reached to tangle some of it out, his long fingers combing through knots and wincing a little at the pain that he couldn’t really feel. Probably thanks to the oxy. He found his hand sticky when he returned it back to searching through his pockets for a cigarette. It was dark and he couldn’t find his phone-did he even have it to begin with? The streetlights were just close enough to see his fingers painted red. Oh, the stairs.
He supposed it really didn’t matter anyway. Nothing did anymore. There was no recollection of what he took. The handful of pills were all different colors, sizes. They were beautiful. There were a few bumps of coke taken off his own hand. His nose still tingled and he could taste the bitter on his gums.
But there were no stairs or pills or powders or Medina or Y/N or his mom, dad, friends there anymore.
The beach? Oh yeah.
It was the wrong one. He knew that much.
He sat alone in the center of the sand, head lolling to the side.
Go closer.
“No, I don’t wanna move.”
Too bad.
“Fuck.”
He wasn’t crazy. He knew that. He just...something pulled him to the waves.
I get it, Medina.
--
It was a Thursday when Y/N had managed to drag Jim out of bed early enough to get out before anyone else.
“You have no classes, you have no excuse!” she sing-songed as they wandered down the path behind Jim’s house to the bay, grey waves already crashing onto the shore. He smiled at the winter waves, bigger than ever and pulling whitecaps every so often, and was secretly glad that she managed to force him out. It was that but also probably the breakfast burrito she brought. Yes, she was willing to bribe him.
He had been acting...off. Nothing to worry about, but just the stress of his thesis and some stuff with his mom had him looking just a little more tired. Typical of a college student, though. Some more coffee, a Red Bull here and there, and Y/N didn’t need to know about the lines of coke he would sneak in the bathroom between classes. Just sometimes, though.
He’d convinced her to wax his board for him while he leaned back against the rocks to have his breakfast. Watching her hands glide over the board in familiar strokes and circles was meditative for him. It was comfortable, the coconut smell of the wax mixed with the lavender of her conditioner, the waves crashing, the song she was humming without realizing it. It felt more like home than the house just up the path did.
“Jack Johnson?” he mumbled around a bite of burrito, managing to catch a piece of avocado before it fell onto his wetsuit.
She looked up from her work on the board and took a second to register that she was even humming. “Oh, yeah,” she gave a gentle laugh. “I always see the poster on your door.” She shrugged and got back to work, moving slow enough for Jim to enjoy his breakfast.
He smiled, forgetting all about that poster. “Put it up ages ago-when we first moved. Banana pancakes, huh?”
“It’s a good song!” She set the wax aside and looked over the two boards ready to be put to use.
“I’m particularly fond of banana pancakes.” He shrugged.
“Is that you saying you don’t appreciate today’s breakfast?” he voice rose playfully and she nodded at his mostly gone burrito. “Because I don’t have to do that anymore…”
“No, oh my god no!” he rushed to get the words out. “You know you’re the only reason I’m like...alive. Not eating hot pockets for every meal.”
She laughed. “I’m kidding, babe.”
“Okay,” he sighed a bit more relieved. “I don’t know how nobody has wifed you up yet. I get wake up calls, food cooked, you’re a goddamn dream.”
“Well I guess someone has to make a move, eventually.”
“You’re young...we’re young,” he murmured, methodologically folding the tin foil his breakfast was wrapped if before setting it in his bag to throw out later. The mood had shifted and Jim cursed himself. He saw the way her lips tightened and her movements more controlled as she picked herself up. Tucking her board under her arm she let out a wavering laugh, “Ready?”.
“Always,” Jim whispered breathlessly.
Walking down to the waves he was sure to drop a few kisses on her temple while thinking of how he would never be lucky enough to be the one to ask her to be his wife.
--
After a particularly long morning, the sun and salt became overwhelming as Jim and Y/N made their way back onto dry land. Jim’s friends had a tendency to ruin things and Jim wasn’t having it. He found himself tucked into a diner booth before they could show up to the beach, Y/N across from him, biceps wonderfully sore from paddling and still feeling the sun’s warmth in him.
It was probably a little early for burgers and fries but neither of them cared. Jim glanced across the table to where Y/N was quickly sending a text before catching him looking. “What?” Her eyes looked up to his, face still tilted to her phone.
“Oh, nothing,” he laughed. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t feel right saying how he was just mesmerized by the water that dripped off her hair to water stain the shoulders of her shirt darker. Small sand granules still stuck to her hair and skin even though they tried to get all of it off. The way her skin practically glowed under the light that spilled in from the window she was sitting next to, her eyes that looked just a little smaller without mascara on...he loved them. He loved her.
He loved her.
He did.
And sometimes it would hit him at the most random times like when she would trip over a curb, or say something that she probably shouldn’t have, or like when she was stealing fries off his plate-which she always did. And she was doing just that while scrolling through a text message as Jim looked on and just took in...everything. Because it felt mostly right. Only mostly because Palos Verdes sat looming outside. Anywhere else in the world and it would be okay. Probably.
He knew he was running from problems. That things might not be any different if he got away.
On stained napkins, Jim planned his escape route. Rough sketches of his future. Maybe theirs.
“I’m gonna get us out of here.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jimmy.” She still smiled, knowing that he would get out one day.
--
If it was night then why was it so fucking bright out? White. Blankness, blindness, the world still spun but he didn’t know how because he couldn’t see it, so how could he feel it? It was night- he was positive about that because the sea was black. Ink black.
Even when he was older-no longer a child, just moved to the bay, looking out into the nighttime waves sent ice down his spine. Watching the surfers bob over the swells, black turning to grey where the wave broke, his chest tightened. It was swimming in ink and dark. He bet that when you came out you were covered, dripping in the stuff, staining and tainting every inch of flesh, maybe even the insides, too. Swallow some of it or breathe it in and let it paint the inside of you black. He always wondered what monsters lived there, under the blanket of dark.
It was stupid, he knew. Sea monsters didn’t exist but it was primal. Something in his blood screaming to stay away, that something down there was going to kill him, rob him of the breaths he struggled to take in anyway. Chest always tight. Lungs covered in soot and ink. Blood crashing waves, uncontrollable, and deadly-potentially tragic, but poetic. Sparking inspiration for writers, musicians, the everyday man. They all go to the sea to cleanse the soul but they didn’t see it at night. Not the way Jim did from his window every. Single. Night. Just outside, just out of reach. Just far enough away to let him sleep, but close enough to be a threat.
But Medina dragged him down to go night surfing.
He watched it swallow him whole.
He was one of the monsters that lurked down there.
Everything returned to the sea, he knew that. His thesis. Pollution. What? He managed one steadying deep breath, tricking himself into thinking he could feel the tissue expand in his chest cavity. His hands shook. It wasn’t bright anymore.
It was dark. And night. And the waves crashed in front of him.
He wanted to run.
Jim made himself sit. Cross legged, back hunched over- Sit up straight, mom will complain- he straightened. Everything in him screamed to run, go anywhere but here. One more breath. A pause, a beat. His eyes narrowed at the black sea in front of him, staring at the white foam that broke off.
The wind picked up and he felt his hair tangle and curl in the salty air. He didn’t bother moving it. The cold ripped through his body, though. Chilled to the bone.
The lights had gone out. The streetlights? The moon? Did it matter? It was darker than before. Jim faced the ocean, mind finally blank. Numb. A breath. A beat. A clear mind. Until it wasn’t.
Chills turned into sweats, his temperature rising impossibly fast, he felt it seep from his forehead but he still shivered. He blinked the salt from his eyes-from sweat? Or...how did I move…? The ocean lay in front of Jim. Black, swirling, and breaking, growling whispers and words to him. Calling to him? Probably.
When did...my heart--? If he knew how to crack a chest-Dad knows that, he’s good at it…- he’d rip it out. Offer it on a silver platter to whoever wanted it. Nobody did, though. Anything to get it to stop. His hands shook and the waves still crashed. They didn’t stop, they wouldn’t stop.
He moved closer. Why?
I’m scared.
I know.
You have to.
...okay.
Trembling legs carried him closer to the beast. It crawled closer on its belly, an inch from his sneakers, and controlled him. The closer it came the tighter his chest, the sharper his inhale, filling him with emptiness. Exhales were good, he pretended that it was him blowing it away until the pattern shifted again, waves overlapping and nothing discernable. Even Medina didn’t like it when it was like this- tides changing. No pattern. But it was still hers, and hers alone. She was born in a cradle of brine while he was drowned by it.
He wished he knew how to swim.
But he belonged in the sky, he tried to look up but his eyes were trapped, held by the dark in front of him. There was no escape- no way out from under it. Its reach clawed at the land until it took chunks of it, winning. It tore through his skin until he was nothing but exposed and raw. Its silent demons moving amongst and within him, gifting him with every burden bestowed upon him.
Mom, dad, Medina, Y/N...me. Jim.
It’s your fault, you know.
I know.
Everything.
I know.
He knew it already even though his mind insisted on whispering every chance it got. Blinking got hard, eyes heavy. Everything heavy all of a sudden.
The weight of solitude settled on his shoulders and found a home in his belly. Not just on the wind whipped beach but everywhere. Laying in bed with Y/N he always found himself alone. Not alone-lonely.
But there is no time to be lonely when there’s a grave to dig.
The thought of her cracked him. He looked away from the monsters, hiding his eyes in his palms he felt his tears stain the cuts. How they got there, he wasn’t sure.
Tendons, ligaments, bone- all weakened, he felt something push him to his knees. It had to have been her? No. But maybe? He couldn’t be sure. That or...whatever was out there. It’s you, you dumb fuck.
Sometimes he forgot that he was one of them. Slicked black and melding into the monster itself, bobbing on the surface but knowing just how easily it could smother him, should it choose.
It crawled away in retreat when Jim’s hands fell to his mouth to muffle the scream that threatened to rip from his chest. He couldn’t let anyone hear, not when he was so close. You’re almost there. Don’t stop. Do. Not.
“I won’t, I won’t,” he whimpered, voice cracking and high. He didn’t sound like himself. Or maybe he sounded more like himself then ever. Raw. There wasn’t any more time to put on a front.
A stillness came over him when the water rushed to surround and saturate his knees, half buried in the sand-kneeling in worship or terror. He let it run over his fingers, feeling the push and pull, his inhales and exhales no longer synched. They were slow. Slower than they should be. And they hurt.
The water was almost clear when it was close enough. He saw the blood wash away off his trembling hand when the wave was sucked back in, taking a part of him with it.
His head bowed, not in reverence, he was sure. But because there was no point in holding it upright. There wasn’t a reason to look up, all the stars had gone. Snuffed out by the water that wavered in his view. He wasn’t going to make it there, anyway. He felt an ache in his chest when he realized that he wouldn’t be able to meet her at cassiopeia, as promised.
It wasn’t just a dull ache, though. He felt the way oxygen flowed in and out of him too slow, the way his heart was throbbing too fast…
He fell over, face half buried in the sand, unable to move, paralyzed as the tide rushed in, claws open and ready to claim him. He didn’t remember being able to take one last gasping breath, salt filled his lungs and light filled his mind.
For the first time, he was ready to go somewhere on his own.
He smiled. Relieved, after so much waiting.
--
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#jim mason fanfic#jim mason x reader#jim mason#jim mason hc#topv fanfic#tribes of palos verdes#topv vertigo#michael langdon x reader#the tribes of palos verdes#ttopv
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Vertigo: Chapter 10: Salt
Vertigo: Chapter 10
Salt
Jim Mason x Reader
Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of drug addiction and withdrawal. Drug induced psychosis depicted.
Summary: Reality finally crashes down on Jim. He can’t cope any longer.
Notes: Sorry for the long break, everyone! I really didn’t think they you had too much of an interest in this story anymore but I’ll put more focus on it if you would like. This is a rough chapter and deals with some pretty heavy subject matter so I would look at the warnings just to make sure that you understand exactly what Jim might be going through-because it is kind of ambiguous, but mental illness is a subject that is touched on. As always, let me know what you think. Thank you so much for your support and I hope you enjoy <3
Word count: 4.7K
Gif credit: (Unfortunately, I can’t find the source of this beautiful gif. If anyone knows, please tell me and I’ll credit them straight away.)
It had been a few hours since Medina’s call, Y/N used her time wisely before she headed over. She had taken a few hits of a joint--just to take the edge off, but it did nothing to help the anxiety that consumed her from the inside.
Considering how many hours she let pass, it could almost be considered the next day, how many hours she held onto for herself? For him.
The Mason’s house had been illuminated in the breaking sun over the cliffs of Palos Verdes, setting in an orange glow. Jim met her at the front door, he was leaning against the frame--a pitiful attempt to appear casual. He looked sober—but the small shakes in his fingers, his darting eyes gave it away. He looked...sad. That’s how she could tell. Jim always looked sad—he wore a veil of deep melancholy in every moment, but this was different. This resembled a chasm. It made him look ill, but he was still beautiful.
Jim was an exposed nerve, open to everything around him. He could feel the anxiety radiating from Y/N as she approached the house. He saw her tentative steps, careful movements, and he hated himself for having that effect on her. Because that’s all he did to her. Made her shrink, made her small.
He suggested a walk, unsure of how everything was going to go, of how the conversation was going to pan out. They walked in tandem on the beach, each contemplating their plan in mind, but unsure of how to execute--or even if they could.
Jim brushed his bruised knuckles against hers, feeling the smooth texture reminded him of all the damage he had done--all the pain he had created. Y/N took his fingers in hers, threading them together, but unable to meet his eyes. She couldn’t look at him whatever it was from disgust or reluctance...she couldn’t tell
“Can we sit?” she asked, looking to him finally. “I’m just...really tired.” Jim could see that she was, her drawn face being the clue. Along with her downcast eyes and slow movements he could tell that she hadn’t been sleeping well. Too occupied with him no doubt.
“Me too,” he whispered and followed her to one of the driftwood logs that sat on the shore, far enough from the water to still be dry. In silence, she looked out to the water in the bay. There were no surfers. There were no waves.
“I don’t know where to start, but I’m so sorry and I know that’s not enough, but-” Jim rushed his words out unsure of what he was even saying because his mind had been running in circles since saying those things to her the previous night.
“Jim,” she whispered. Not Jimmy. “I don’t think there’s anything to say.”
He looked at her, head tilted, brows pinched. “What?”
“I’m just-- I’ve just been thinking,” she started, but she hesitated, unsure of where she was going or even what she was doing. “I’m just tired.”
Jim’s stomach dropped and he felt the tightness in his chest restrict his breath. “I know there’s nothing I can do to make up for that, for the things I said. But you have to know that I didn’t mean any of them.” He looked to her, shifting his weight to angle himself toward her. She had to stop herself from turning, too. “They aren’t true. Nothing I said was true. It was the withdrawal, it wasn’t me.”
“You see, Jim?” she said a bit louder, trying to stop herself from lashing out. She didn’t want things to get uglier than they were. “That’s it though. It’s never you. It’s always the pills or the liquor of the withdrawal or something. That was you in there. You said those things,” she spoke with a tight jaw, through gritted teeth. “You said them…”
“But it wasn’t me, Y/N. It wasn’t me.” His head shook and fell into his hands, elbows resting on his knees.
“And that’s why things have to be like this, now.”
“Like what?” He looked to her, eyes rimmed red from his meltdown earlier but he didn’t have anything left to give, no more tears, no more energy. Drained. His heart thrummed despite the crushing exhaustion weighing on his chest.
“I don’t know. I just...can’t do this...right now,” she breathed out and met his gaze. “I’m so fucking tired, Jimmy.” She winced when she heard the nickname slip out. An indescribable emotion flickered across his face but it was gone as fast as it had appeared.
“I’m...so sorry. I don’t know what else to say,” he said so quietly she wasn’t sure if she was meant to hear. “I’m tired, too. We’re both just...I think we’re both just... done.”
“I love you, Jim,” she said but looked down, suddenly fascinated by the small ocean polished stones at her feet. She tapped her sneakers against them hearing the tap tap tap. Something to take her out of this nightmare she was living. “But I can’t-”
He cut her off, “You’re not good for me.”
“What?” Her voice raised an octave, tone a little sharper than intended.
“I don’t know. You make me different. I was so...happy with you when we met but now when I look at you I’m furious and I don’t know why,” he rambled, knowing he should probably have stopped a while ago.
“It’s because I got out of it. And you can’t,” she said, knowingly. It’s not the first time she had thought about it. She had seen it. The constant change between his genuine love for her but then something would change. He would lash out, grabbing her wrist, speak unspeakable things under the guise of drugs or something, but she saw it. The truth-- his anger, the jealousy. He couldn’t help but compare himself to Y/N. See himself in her, the Jim that he so desperately wanted to be. Sober, mostly, but also making through this disaster of a life.
“‘I can’t get out? How do you know I want to?” he bit out before thinking.
He immediately regretted it, opening himself to her too much. Even with her, the person he loved most and was the most himself around, he kept some things private. She didn’t deserve the burden of his darker thoughts.
“You don’t want to?” she quoted back to him, alarm apparent in her voice. He couldn’t help but notice how the now grey sky cast the softest light on her. He wished he had his polaroid, just to remember how she looked. She was panicked, but beautiful.
“Y/N, I’m just--” he sighed exasperated. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes, you did. You meant that,” she said, taken aback. “Jim, what the hell are you doing?”
“I didn’t mean that,” he repeated a little monotonous, trying to detach himself from the thoughts swirling in his head. “I just, I don’t know what we’re doing. All I do is hurt you and you’re not an inspiration. You’re a reminder.” His fingers slipped into his hair, effectively hiding his face.
“We just need some time,” Y/N said softly. “And then when you get clean, we can--”
“I’m not getting clean.”
There was a pause. Both registered the meaning in his words and she felt nothing but horror while Jim felt a sickening relief at saying them aloud.
Jim continued, “I’m not sure what I’m gonna do. But I’m not getting sober. I’m in too deep and I love it too much.”
“I can’t lose you,” she tried to say but it came out as a cracked whisper.
“You’re already leaving me. It shouldn’t matter.” His face slipped into a scowl. “You’re smart. You’ve always known a lost cause when you see one...” he gave a gentle laugh.
She didn’t know what to say.
Was that what she was doing? In a way, yes. This was her escape route and she was taking it--getting out while she still had the chance. Being the girlfriend was easy, after all. She could get out with a simple breakup whereas Medina was bound to him, blood and soul. She was giving up on him and she knew it. And that was the hardest part.
“I don’t think you’re a-”
“Stop lying. We know how this ends,” he said ominously. His gaze continued up, admiring the burning sky, the stars were finally coming out. She followed his line of sight to Gemini, faintly clear in the darkening sky. She could name almost all the constellations, now.
“It doesn’t have to. You could...you can…” she tried looking for the right words. She never knew what to say anymore. Especially to Jim.
“It’s okay. I’m okay with it.”
She still wasn’t quite sure what he was talking about, but she grabbed his hand anyway and pretended to not feel his flinch at her touch. “I just can’t let you be here for it. I love you too much, and you don’t deserve this on your conscious.” His glossy blue eyes closed in defeat. He was selfish when it came to her, when it came to everything.
Of course, he wanted her. He wanted her for everything that wasn’t going to happen. A white dress and a beach and a house with worn surfboards outside and kids and happiness. He still wanted all that for her even if it wasn’t going to be his.
If she wasn’t going to be his…
He suddenly stood to look down at her still sitting on the driftwood. “The second I think I know what I want, I change my mind. I just don’t know anymore, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do, Y/N.” No tears fell, but she saw his back rise and fall, breathing heavy.
He felt the panic rise through his spine, settling in his stomach and chest.
I don’t know what to do I don’t know what to do I don’t know what to do I don’t know what to do.
“What if I did it?” he almost shouted, eyes wild and suddenly manic.
“Did what?” she asked, starting to lose his train of thought.
Get sober….or...really the only other alternative at this point-just speeding along the process, in Jim’s eyes at least.
“I don’t know! Did it? Fucking get clean?” He didn’t sound sure of himself and quite frankly he was still unsure if that’s what he wanted.
“I think you should do it right. Rehab, maybe?” Y/N suggested, starting to stand to meet him as he started walking back towards the house.
“Jim? Jim!” she called after him, struggling to meet his quick pace set with long strides. She was completely lost in the conversation now.
Maybe, he’s lost it. Maybe he’s cracked.
“Come on, come on,” he urged with a smile creeping onto his lips. His eyes remained burning. He held the door for her and she led the way into his house, still confused about what was happening. She had intended to end things but managed to find herself pulled back into Jim’s chaos like a goddamn riptide. Maybe this time it would finally swallow her whole.
Y/N stepped into the house and was met with Sandy staring at her from the sofa, mouth gaping like a fish. “What are you doing here? Jim? What is she doing here?”
Jim ignored his mother, Y/N wasn’t sure if he even noticed her, while he dashed into his room obviously looking for something.
“Sandy, I’m sorry I know you don’t want me here but Jim’s just-”
“What did you do to him?” she growled, standing and stalked her way over towards Y/N, but she was faster and followed Jim into his room, preferring him to Sandy’s wrath any day. “Why is he like this? What did you do?”
“He’s been like this for months, mom,” Medina said, coming out of her room to see what the commotion was about. “You’ve just been to self-absorbed to see anything else.”
Jim continued ignoring the conversation between the three women and tore through his closet, grinning in success when he located the bulk of his stash. He quickly threw it in his jacket pocket before turning to face the small group that had congregated in the doorway of his bedroom.
Nobody moved, nobody said anything for what felt like an eternity.
“I’m calling the police,” Sandy declared and Medina let out a scoff while Y/N’s heart clenched. “You did this to my son.” She pointed a finger at Y/N so close that she had to back away to avoid her reach. “You did this,” she spat.
Sandy’s heavy footsteps echoed through the house, rattling the china in the cabinets. Medina followed her, leaving Y/N to deal with Jim.
“Hey, hey,” Y/N said and placed both her hands on Jim’s shoulders, trying to calm him. He was practically vibrating with energy despite looking like he was about ready to keel over. He was breathing too quick, eyes glassy and red rimmed. She wasn’t sure if he was high or if this was something else completely.
“I got it and now we’re gonna--! We can go—! We can just leave--” he said, his words a little slurred. “I have to—we-- Medina!” he shouted.
Medina’s voice could be heard in the hallway, where the pair stood. She was trying to stop Sandy who was evidently on the phone with dispatch to the police. “She is a drug dealer. She gave my son drugs. Yep. Good.” Sandy said into the phone that she was holding, desperately trying to keep it away from Medina who was trying to snatch it from her mother.
“Stop it Mom, we all know that’s not true! Just let it go--stop it!” Medina tried one last attempt to grab the phone despite the call already having been made and the police on their way.
Jim wandered into the living room, wide eyes taking in the scene of his family-or what was left of it. “Go ahead and say it,” Sandy lashed out at Y/N.
She hesitated, confused as to what Sandy wanted her to say or what she was getting at. “What?” Y/N asked skeptically.
“It looks like you want to say something, so say it.”
“You can’t keep doing this, Sandy!” Y/N lashed out “You can’t keep controlling him!” Her accusatory voice echoed in the room. Jim could almost feel the vibrations, everything too close but too far away at the same times. Things blurring but in sharp contrast. He knew he wasn’t high.
He thought, at least. He could never be sure anymore.
“You don’t know anything about him, you weren’t there for him-”
“I’m here for him now!” The shouting continued and Jim could feel things getting closer, feeling like the room was closing in and the walls folding in around him.
“Bullshit!” Medina stepped closer to Y/N, causing her to back up and bump into Jim who remained still, looking out the window. He felt her lightly step on his toes, her body lightly tap his, her small flinch. She was afraid of him. Scared.
God, no, this has to end now.
“You were never there for him! You helped until you didn’t. Can’t you see that you’re the same as her-” Medina was crying, something that didn’t happen frequently-Jim should know.
He took in the faces around him. The faces of the people’s lives whose lives he destroyed. His mother’s. Sure, she ruined his life, too. She was the catalyst but he couldn’t help but feel responsible for her decline. Never good enough, couldn’t just listen to her. Couldn’t stay in every night. Couldn’t play any more card games, couldn’t eat any more butter cookies, couldn’t be a perfect student, couldn’t be the man of the house, couldn’t live up to Phil’s expectations, couldn’t be anything that they wanted for him.
Medina, his other half. Born under the twins of the night and were separated by the horizon. Him floating well above the earth, into the dark sky, and her pulled down below crashing waves and sea serpents. She was still shouting but he couldn't hear her over the thrum of his heart locked away by his ribcage.
He was never there for her, like she was for him. He wasn’t good enough for her. Her lips kept moving but he couldn’t hear her, he hadn’t heard her in months.
Why can’t I understand her anymore?
Y/N turned to face him,
When had that happened…...we’re outside now?
Her face was distraught, pretty features twisted into something of panic and disgust. She was his light. His dawn that rose every day and his dusk that settled over him, a blanket of calm, timed with both the heavens and the tides.
Time.
He knew something had happened between them, right? Or did he make that up, too? Like the cliff. Or was that the real one. Did she…? No…? She wouldn’t unless-- She hated...you. She hates you.
“Jim, stop it.” Y/N had her hands around his wrists holding them down in front of him. He had been beating his fists against his head, eventually stopping to rub his fingers into his eyes-completely exhausted. When she let go, his hands went back to rubbing his eyes as if to erase the sight before him. Just tired.
What the fuck is going on? He wasn’t high-he hadn’t taken anything. Y/N slowly backed away from him, unsure of what to do or what he was going to do.
A loud “Jim” snapped him out of all the melting colors and droning in his ears. Sandy was in front of him now, holding him up by the shoulders. I’m just tired. For the first time in a long time, he registered that Sandy knew the gravity of the situation.
“Mom…” he didn’t know what else to say. “Mom--I--”
“Jimmy, what’s happening? Jimmy?” Her hand went to his cheek to try to stop his head from lolling off to the side, neck unsupported. Somewhere in his mind he thought that maybe he should use his strength to not collapse in the middle of the driveway. He realized he had no strength left to do so.
“Mom,” he choked out, throat starting to close. “I’m so sorry. I can’t do it okay? I can’t do it.” His head shook against her shoulder where he had placed it. Sometimes he forgot how much taller he was, that he was really an adult, that every decision mattered and lately all he was making were the wrong ones.
Sandy threaded her fingers into his hair and tried to hold him close but before he could even get comfortable leaning onto his mother he was pulling back-afraid. “No, no, no you did this to me, You made me like this,” he spit, sounding more terrified than he’d like to admit.
Medina stood off to the side. She used to be the one that could handle him. Always. Since they were children and he threw a temper tantrum over toys, to breakups, to overdosing, to losing absolutely everything. She could always patch him up just enough to keep him going. This time, however, she knew that she wasn’t enough. There was nothing left that could help him.
Medina saw her twin as someone different, completely separating the two; who Jim was and who Jim is. The Jim that stood pacing the front lawn, wringing his hands together, knuckles and cuticles bleeding, eyes hooded by the light that cast an eerie glow over his cheekbones, his jeans much too large on him, slipping off his narrowed hips, his voice scratchy, reminding her of those videos of people who were possessed. She thought for a second that maybe he was.
He turned to face the three women, Sandy and Y/N now screaming at each other but he couldn’t make sense of their words. Everything whirled in the worst way possible.
It was like being dragged out to sea in a riptide--pulled in and sucked under--you can fight but you can’t escape. You have to wait for it to stop and god, he just wanted it to stop.
Salt filled his lungs with every breath but he wasn’t underwater, he was suffocating from the crushing pressure on all sides. Too deep. He felt his eyes roll back into his head and the hard ground meet his knees when he inevitably fell.
Ground?
He didn’t know who took away the board that was comfortably nestled between his legs, keeping him afloat, albeit barley. Medina had explained to him that surfboards weren’t meant to keep you out of the water, completely dry. You were supposed to submerge it just a little. Too much weight and you’d sink it. He felt the ground again. He felt himself sunk to the bottom.
Jim’s eyes still bolted shut, he didn’t want to get salt water in them, it always stung and made it look like he was crying. He hated it. How much he cried.
Something touched his face, on instinct he flinched, muscles tensed, he tipped over but something else caught him. He gasped for breath, unable to hold his breath any longer and found that air was around him rather than water. His eyes snapped open to meet Y/N’s face close to his, her lips still moving. He couldn’t hear- just a steady drone, the sound of crashing waves.
God, she’s pretty.
Her face was illuminated by red and blue lights, police cars flashing them. He didn’t like the shadows they cast on her. They made her look guilty of something that wasn’t her fault because he knew this wasn’t her fault no matter what Medina or Sandy tried to say. No matter that she tried to take responsibility-or at least felt that way. Because she did.
Y/N managed to hold back tears, keep it together for Jim while her reality crashed. His world was already too far gone. He leaned into the palm she placed against his cheek, she felt the stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave and for some reason her heart broke at the thought.
She bent down to kneel next to him, half having to keep him upright. His world was still tilting. “Jimmy, hey, hey, hi,” she said, trying to sooth him and distract him from what she knew was occurring behind her.
Sandy was screaming to the police. “She’s the one who's been giving my son so much trouble. It’s abuse! And I should know...My ex husband--”
“Of course, you manage to make this about yourself, Mom. Why can’t you care about something-anything- that isn’t you for one second!” Medina involved herself despite wanting to keep her distance.
“Medina, you get your ass back in the house this second.”
“No, you know what,” Medina walked closer to the officer and Sandy. “She” She said, pointing to her mother, “has been the one abusing my brother for years. It’s gone on too long, Mom.” She stepped close to Sandy.
Jim’s focus shifted back onto Y/N, letting his mother and sister blur in the background.
“Jim,” Y/N tried to keep his focus on her. She saw his eyes keep wandering away from hers, down toward the ground almost like he didn’t trust it to hold him up. “I’m going to get you inside, okay?” He felt her small hand hold his chin, trying to keep his head up.
She could still hear the shouts and screams behind her, the police now clearly involved with Medina and Sandy’s argument.
“Jimmy,” she said a little more sharply, still with a fake reassuring smile plastered to her face.
“Hi,” Jim managed to whisper out.
“Hi,” she whispered back, voice still cracking.
Jim hesitated, eyes wandering like he was still trying to take in the reality of what was happening. Y/N had a feeling that he genuinely didn’t know where he was. He didn’t. He also knew he didn’t take anything.
So what the fuck is this?
Jim bit his lip, hands too far away to nip at his cuticle like he really wanted to do. Everything was too far away. He felt a little blood escape down the corner of his mouth and Y/N caught it with a small swipe of her thumb. Jim liked the smile she was wearing, even though he knew it was fake...and for his sake.
“I’m just...I’m cold...and it’s dark.” His face unreadable, but the numbness in his eyes was evident. “I’m just tired, Y/N.”
“I know, so let’s get you to bed, okay?” She tried picking him up from under his
shoulders but he was dead weight. “You’re going to have to help me, Jimmy.” Something finally clicked and he managed to get himself to stand, still leaning heavily on Y/N.
She placed a hand on his chest to keep him from falling forward, but also make sure that there was a steady thrum from his heart.
This is it….he’s not making it out of this…
There is no coming back from this.
Y/N started to walk the pair over to the front door, hoping to get Jim into bed before she called an ambulance. This was uncharted territory. Not an overdose, not a come down.
“Miss?” A gruff voice called from behind her but she struggled to turn while supporting almost all of Jim’s weight. Really focusing on taking one step at a time with Jim, she failed to respond until a hand grabbed her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks and forcibly turning her to face him. The police officer was only looking at her, paying to attention to Jim who had somehow managed to catch himself before crumpling to the pavement.
“Mrs. Mason tells me that you’ve been in the possession of and dealing illicit substances. Is this true?”
Y/N couldn’t move. She just stood looking at Jim who was then standing like a cornered animal. Eyes wide, his body practically shook with the effort to breathe. He looked to Medina. A current passed through them.
Sandy was still yelling at Medina- about what, it didn’t matter. What did was the loud snap that was heard and drew the attention away from Y/N and back onto Sandy who had just slapped her daughter. She yelped and the officer managed to make it over to her before she could retaliate through physicality because Medina absolutely was threatening violence in her rage. She was seeing red.
Jim saw an opening through all this. His only shot, his last chance to maybe do something.
To fix it? To make it stop?
He stripped himself of his denim jacket he so often wore. Why, he didn’t know. He removed the bulk of his stash from the inner pocket and slipped it into his jeans.
“You need to take this,” he gasped out and thrust the jacket into Y/N’s hands, grabbing it on instinct alone. “This is it, right? It can all end tonight.” He pulled back, breathing heavy and looked down at his empty palms. A twisted laugh escaped him and he looked up to the sky.
“That one! Okay? I’ll be there.” He pointed up but let his arm fall.
“Jim, what are you talking about-” Y/N’s voice was hysterical, too afraid to actually cry.
“It’s like…half a chance. Who knows what the fuck is gonna happen next.” He nodded expectantly at Y/N, eyes shining, emaciated face somehow still radiant. “But just in case. I’ll meet you there...Cassiopeia, okay?”
Y/N stared, speechless. What was he implying, he couldn’t be-no. No. “Jim, what are you saying?”
“Cassiopea. I’ll meet you there,” he shouted, turning over his shoulder when he turned. Y/N took a step to follow him bt felt a strong grip around her bicep. Then cold steel around her wrists when they were pressed behind her back. The chill of the police car she was pushed against woke her up from the shocked daze she had been in.
She blinked and he was gone.
He was already waiting for her in the stars.
Jim’s Sad Squad: @ccodyfern @starwlkers @langdonsinferno @antichristwrites @i-will-die-for-jim-mason @babypinkstyles94 @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonsdemon @langdonsrapture @coloursunlimited @langdonalien @tarkofetis @katiekitty261 @lovelykhaleesiii @aveiangdon @heelsamizayn @sojournmichael @sojournx @oneday-i-will-fight-luke17 @wroteclassicaly @sammythankyou @1-800-bitchcraft @nana15774 @missantichrist @duncvn @jim-mason2 @mega-combusken @cocosfern @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul
I know I’m absolutely missing people--if you want to be on an updated list let me know!! <3
#jim mason#jim mason x reader#jim mason hc#the tribes of palos verdes#tribes of palos verdes#topv#palos verdes#michael langdon x reader#jim mason smut#topv vertigo
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Vertigo: Chapter 9: Bravado
Vertigo: Chapter 9
Bravado
This fic is in progress.
Jim Mason x Reader
Warnings for this chapter: Mentions and depiction of drug addiction.
Summary: Jim is torn between two worlds. The one that he’s in and the one where he knows he’ll be free. The third option isn’t considered.
Notes: Things are getting a little intense-as if they weren’t already. Jim is losing his already fragile grip on reality and is truly at a loss of what to do. He feels like he’s exhausted all options, par one.
Word Count: 5 K
Y/N was awakened by a clattering on her window and intermittent buzzes from her phone. Reluctantly turning, she looked over to the clock which read 3:47 am. The cold rushed into the blankets that were disrupted causing a chill to run down her spine.
The clicking didn’t stop and she dragged herself over to the large window overlooking the neighborhood, not lucky enough to have an ocean view. A knot formed in her stomach as she already suspected who was outside. Her courtesy glance at her phone confirmed that Jim was, in fact, outside, begging for her attention. His texts were mostly unreadable-a mixture of typos and anxious words that he rushed to type out.
3:32 am [From: Jimmy] Hy I know itsbe en a min.
3:32 am [From: Jimmy} Yyvou home
3:41 am [From: Jimmy] Hey atr you thesir
3:43 am [From: Jimmy] Can i se you?
3:43 am [From: Jimmy} Pleaseb.
She opened the message transcript while walking over to the window, her heart already aching enough she was sure it would burst. Trying to avoid him wasn’t working well if he showed up at her doorstep, anyway. But there was nothing more than the sound of his voice, safe and alive she wanted to hear.
Pulling the curtains revealed the frame of her...boyfriend? She didn’t know. A label wasn't necessary for what they were feeling lately. They felt starlight swallowed in a back hole despite everything that had happened.
He was turned opposite the house, facing the street, and looked like he was about to give up on his mission of seeing her. She could see in his posture that something had happened. His shoulders were drawn up, his head cradled in his hands, hand running through soft hair. He was suppressing his breaths as they were too much, he was lightheaded, black seeping into his vision.
“Jimmy,” she whispered, her head sticking out the window, looking at him below. His head shot up and turned to face the voice he craved. He already felt tears spill. “Baby, what happened?” he heard her continue and he felt the world spin-the center of his universe refocusing itself onto her.
“I just needed to see you. I needed to make sure you were real,” he looked up at her, still breathing heavy, rambling almost. “Can I see you?”
“Yeah, baby. Come up,” she gestured to the familiar path he took to her room. Walking up the driveway, he took measured steps. He continued to climb over the storage chest, onto the roof of the garage, and then onto the incline that lead to her room. She pushed the window open wider to allow for his entrance.
When he got closer she could see he was already crying, tears staining his cheekbones. A thin layer of sweat covered him and started seeping into the tee shirt he was wearing, noticeably missing his usual denim jacket. It was chilly for Palos Verdes and he should have grabbed it. He must have been desperate to leave.
Managing to slip through her window, attempting to be quiet, he landed in her arms. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he sobbed and pressed his face into her hair, worried that it might be the last time. He was always worried that it would be the last time, for one reason or another. “I know, Medina told me that you need space, that I need space, but I need you. I just--. Please,” he gasped out and started losing his footing under himself. He tried to still his breathing knowing the was adding to the dizzy feeling but the dark kept seeping into his vision and made the ground under him turn to water.
She slipped one hand into his hair, the other wrapping around his back as she pulled him in as close as possible. He leaned down to bury his face into her neck, mumbling something she couldn’t quite make sense of. “Please, I need you I’ll never do it again, I promise, I’ll be better, I just need you, please,” he was rambling in between his incoherent mumblings.
“I’m here. I’m always here,” she whispered and layed a kiss at the crown of his head.
It was plainly obvious that he was on something. She couldn't discern what, or what mixture, he took for the night. All she knew was that he was with her. And when he was with her, he was safe. She pulled his head from its position resting on her shoulder to be eye level with her.
“I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have,” his eyes shut in resignation, tears continuing to leak from the corners of his ocean eyes. Instinctively, she leaned in to kiss them away.
“I know, it’s okay.” She pulled away to look him in the eye but he avoided looking at her, guilt pooling in his chest. She saw blown pupils dodging her. Her hands cradled his face, thumbs brushing cheekbones, while his hands found their home placed on her hips. “What do you need? What do you need from me?” Her hands traveled to the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head. He was overheating and she silently thanked herself for not closing the window that he climbed through even though a chill ran through her bones. She wasn’t sure if that was from the cold or seeing Jim like this, though.
“I don’t know. I don’t know, I just want you, I need you,” he tried to keep his voice from cracking. He saw her softly nod her head. “I’m so sorry.” His voice did crack then.
Having no words, she pulled him into her chest, cradling him.
“I wanna sleep next to you.”
Her heart just about broke, hearing him say that in such a small voice she swore she misheard it.
“You want to sleep?” she clarified.
“I want to sleep next to you,” he repeated.
“Of course, Jim. Let’s sleep.” She started to feel the tightness in her throat, a desperate attempt to stop herself from crying. The pair slowly made their way to her bed, already unmade and warm from her body. She undid his jeans and he crawled into the blankets clad in his boxers.
Laying next to him, she propped herself up on her elbow. He faced away from her, a little ashamed although he knew that he shouldn't be. Not with her. She understood him. She got him.
She couldn’t help but allow her fingers to trace his body. She stared at his face, his smooth forehead, the slope of his nose, his plush lips. Curling herself over him, she tucked his head into her chest and grabbed onto one of his hands. He intertwined their fingers, both of his hands covering her small one. He brought her palm to his mouth and kissed it a few times. He settled their hands, still intertwined, under his face.
She couldn’t help the silent tears that stained her pillow, crying for everything he had been through, none of it deserved. His small sniffles continued for a few minutes until his breath evened out, a calm painting his features. At peace.
“You have to stop this, you can’t keep going like this,” she mumbled into his sleeping form. “You have to stop this because every night I go to sleep thinking what’s going to happen if you don’t wake up.” Her tears continued despite him finally sleeping. She tried to quiet her cries as to not wake him, he needed the sleep as far as the shadows under his eyes told her. She knew holding him all night would do nothing in the long run, but she felt a duty to protect him in any way she knew how-and any way he needed.
She tried to memorize every breath, every angle, everything about him. She couldn’t help but feel like this was one of the last times she was have the privilege to lay next to him.
--
Things had changed again. The dynamic shifted. Jim couldn’t keep up and everything moved too fast.
He had agreed to try one more time. For her. Only for her.
And that’s how he found himself lying on the floor of his bedroom in a puddle of his own sweat and spit, unable to close his gasping mouth. There were no more tears. One, two, three. One, two, three. He had read somewhere counting breaths was supposed to help with pain but the shooting pain in his head and rattling of his bones weren’t subsided.
He heard himself groan aloud, unable to hold the pain in any longer. He brought a shaking hand to his mouth and chewed on a cuticle, feeling his breath moving fast. He was alone this time. No Medina. He told himself he didn’t want her there despite him knowing that she was just two rooms over, easily accessible should he have a moment of true weakness.
His rocking back and forth on the carpet was leaving a burn on his arm and chest, shirt removed long ago to help cool off. It didn’t help and neither did opening his windows to the bay. The supposedly soothing sound of the waves made him feel nauseous. Seasick on dry land.
He saw a shadow block the light through the crack at the bottom of his door. “Go away, Medina,” he managed to bite out, face pressed into his carpet. Sandy wasn’t home- he couldn’t remember why or where she went. He couldn’t remember much, lately. “Go the fuck away.”
The door slowly cracked and revealed Y/N, peering into his dark room, only lit by the dim lamp. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He was humiliated. She shouldn’t have to see him like that, on the floor writhing around, unable to gain purchase on reality.
“Y/N,” he managed to mumble out, unable to hide the frustration in his voice. He knew it was Medina’s doing. If she couldn’t be there, she’d call in the reserves-even though Y/N and her weren’t on the best terms.
“Hi, baby,” she whispered, trying to respect his apparently obvious migraine. He started moving to sit up and she went over to help him, trying to hold his limp frame. His pale skin and underfed body looked ghostly in the dim light-painting a morbid idea that maybe that’s what he’d look like if he were…...no. She couldn’t think like that. Cause this was it. This was when he finally got sober. For good.
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He managed himself onto the bed, her sitting next to him, stroking her fingers through his sweat soaked hair.
“I know you didn’t want me here. But I also know that you shouldn’t be alone right now,” she said and offered a small smile. Her cheeks tightened uncomfortably, nausea settling in her belly just from seeing him like that. “If you didn’t want Medina to stay…” she trailed off, unsure of where the sentence was going.
“Yeah, I didn’t want her here- or you.” He was agitated-understandably so. He had just gotten over the ‘vomit until you see blood’ phase and was slowly moving into the ‘feel like your bones are being ripped out of your skin’ phase. He knew his body and knew how it progressed in times like these, all too familiar with the process but willing to go through it again and again for just one more high.
“I know, I’m sorry. I was just scared,” she admitted. Silence fell over the room, only broken by the sound of the incessant waves. Jim started to understand what Sandy meant when she said that they were the reason she was driven to insanity. Maybe they were the reason he went crazy, too.
“I don’t need you here. I didn’t--Medina! ‘Dina!” he shouted, breath picking up again as he struggled to sit up on the bed.
Y/N looked to the door, waiting for Medina to show, but she didn’t.
“It’s just,” he laughed. “You know-you’re no better than them.” When she gave a confused tilt of her head he explained, “Palos Verdes? Those fucks? We’re the same as them, you know.” Admittedly, she couldn’t quite follow. He cut her off before she could ask. “They show face to everyone-perfect and shiny cars and expensive houses but they’re us. They’re who we are,” he laughed a little manically.
“Jim, try to relax, okay?” She placed a hand on his shoulder and attempted to gently press him back into bed to lay down. He roughly pushed her hand off and she was reminded of the night of the party. Her wrist throbbed in sympathy and she rose off the bed to take a step back, afraid of him again.
“They're the same as me even if they’re too proud to admit it. We’ve all got secrets, Y/N.” His eyes rolled and his tone soured.
She had never seen him like this. Eyes wide, looking at her but not seeing her. To him, it was like seeing her clearly for the first time, finally seeing her flaws and faults. He was suddenly disgusted with the idea of her. And Jim knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind. He wasn’t seeing her- he was seeing himself in a mirror. But he couldn’t stop. The blood finally flowed in his veins again and he felt something.
The better part of him tried to stop what he knew was going to happen, but it wasn’t enough. He saw Y/N’s eyes, still so pretty in the gold light of his dingy lamp, look to the door silently praying for Medina to show. He saw fear in her eyes and he didn’t know why, but he liked it.
She heard him let out a bitter sigh. “But you think you’re different,” he sing songed. “Perfect Y/N comes here from wherever- ready to change everyone’s life but newsflash sweetheart, you’re just as fucked as the rest of us.” He stood, looking stronger than he had in awhile. “Because you got off the pills, oh yeah-you’re the expert telling me how to live my life now. Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t know me. You met me like, what, a year ago? You don’t know shit!” he roared, filling the space with his voice.
She was speechless, looking at him with wide eyes and a blank mind.
Jim scoffed and continued. “You know, I think your mom had the right idea when she left. She didn’t have to put up with your bullshit savior complex or whatever. And your dad,” he smiled and she saw him try to hide another laugh, a charade of being honest. “He flies to the other side of the country to get away from you! And it makes sense. You’re bored, so you find some guy like me to fuck with. Not this time,” he sneered and kept pacing the room. Her eyes followed, unable to look anywhere but at him.
Y/N was numb. Unable to move, unable to breathe. She couldn’t speak, and if she could she didn’t know what she would say. What could she say to make this better? Nothing is going to make this better.
Jim turned, sensing someone else in the doorway and Medina was there in her pajamas, hair still wet from the shower, also speechless at his display.
“But maybe the one thing that is right with you is your sister because lord know I wish mine was fucking dead.” He looked Medina dead in the eyes, waiting for her reaction.
One didn’t come. She knew better than to feed into this. His attention turned back onto Y/N. “Just because you couldn’t save your sister doesn't mean you have to save me, okay? I didn’t ask for your bullshit,” his voice was still loud, ringing in her ears. She felt her bravado slip, a tear rolled down her cheek despite her blinking to hold them back.
“I know your game, now.” Jim gripped Y/N’s chin in his large hand, just a little too hard, causing her to let out a small whimper, afraid. She swallowed thickly, but before she could speak, a sob released from her chest causing Jim to laugh again. Her favorite sound reduced to this.
“The second I drop dead you’re gonna go find some other guy’s life to ruin-so don’t play all high and mighty with me. You’re so goddamn predictable, you know that?” He leaned in closer to her and she could smell the mints he had been sucking on earlier.
“You know? I can’t wait until I overdose so I don’t have to deal with your fucking bullshit anymore.”
She flinched when the crack of dry wall split just centimeters from her head. All at once, Jim let go of her face, turning in disgust to shake his now bloodied hand, while Y/N heard Medina break her stoic facade with a scream.
Y/N didn’t make a sound. She turned to see the cracked and splintered drywall, completely punched through by her boyfriend. Had he been a few inches over…
She looked the other way towards Jim who was then being pushed by Medina, trying to get some control over her brother. He looked like he was fighting back but he was so thin and weak Medina might have had the upper hand. They were shouting but Y/N couldn’t hear anything besides the ringing in her ears.
It took her a second, but she took a breath, and turned to leave. There was nothing for her there anymore. She walked through the door, shoulders back, head held high, and didn’t even think about looking back.
--
“Come sit,” her voice rang out over the crashing of the waves on the cliffside. Jim saw Y/N, legs hanging off the edge, her hair blowing in the wind that whipped. “We need to talk.”
The sun kissed her skin and she almost glowed. Jim felt himself smile for the first time in a long time, despite her cryptic words.
He meandered over to her and sat next to her in the sand, further from the edge than her, his arm wrapped around her waist. “Baby,” he mumbled against her temple and gave her a soft kiss. Pulling back she smiled and looked at his blue eyes, pupils blown.
“You,” she hesitated, unsure of how he wanted to talk about it. “You tried your best. Right? You didn’t mean it?” She couldn’t hide the disappointment that leaked into her voice.
He nodded somberly, eyes looking out toward the setting sun, falling behind the puffed clouds. “I really did,” whispered more to himself than Y/N. She took his hand in her smaller one, noting the still bruised knuckles.
“I know you can do it, Jim.” She looked at him, sincerity creating a delicate smile. For a minute, Jim believed her. “You’re going to prove it to yourself.”
“Okay,” he answered, a little unsure of where she was going with this.
“Come closer.” She nodded to the further edge of the cliff, where she was perched. “It feels nice.” His eyes narrowed, looking over the steep edge to the waves crashing under her. He felt his heart thrum in his chest, faster than it had in days, despite the stimulants he had taken. He looked back to her, unafraid. He didn’t want to be afraid anymore.
Scooting closer to the edge, as well as her, he let out a nervous sigh. “It’s okay,” she laughed, pulling him closer to her. “You’re always going to be okay.”
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he stuttered out when he started to feel himself almost tip over but he managed to stay just on the edge. He didn’t understand how she was sitting so comfortably with her feet dangling over the sixty-foot drop below them. Her eyes stayed on him the entire time.
“You’re okay,” she said softly, her hand reaching to hold his shoulder, trying to steady him.
He remembered they had met like this-not the first time when his friends were assholes, but the first real time. On that red tiled roof that dug into his back and shoulders but he knew he would have stayed up there all night if it meant he could talk to her for a few more minutes. That night, she was the one who was looking over the edge, a little unnerved.
But now, a more treacherous drop in front of her, she looked more at ease than he had seen in a while. She reminded him of how she looked when they met, still a little nieve of his issues but just as ready to take them on. She was too good for him and he knew it. Everyone did.
He peered over the edge again. The rocks were sharp, white waves crashing over them, high from the wind that was gusting. His breathing picked up, heartbeat faster, his blood flowing. Everything was in sharp contrast- technicolor. Things were clear and made sense-everything made fucking sense. Jim laughed a little manically as he leaned impossibly further over. He felt that his cheeks were wet. Laughing while crying. He smiled.
Vision blurred, he continued to look down in a trance and his world spun. Vertigo.
“Okay?”
“I’m good.”
“You’re too good for this place, Jim. Medina always said that you should get out of here,” she said dreamily, still looking out at the horizon, the sun dipping lower faster than he thought possible. She tucked a long leg under herself and slowly stood, towering over him. Y/N placed a hand out for him to take, a silent question hung in the air.
He started to stand but the tears came faster and his breaths stronger. “Don’t make me do this. Please,” he begged but he didn’t even know what he was asking for-what she wanted him to do, really.
“I’ve got you. Relax.” She pressed her other hand onto his chest, tucking herself into him. He held her and she was as cold as ice to his warm skin. “This isn’t going away, Jimmy.”
“What?”
“This.” she gestured to the bay, his house behind him. No matter how many times the world shifted, Palos Verdes would remain. It would always exist. “You aren’t living your life. They aren’t ever going to love you like this.” She was matter-of-fact and Jim felt his heart shatter but he was still confused, his brain muddled. What was she getting at?
His hand reached to her face and stroked her smooth skin, still cold. Why was she so cold? “I’m scared.”
“I know. I love you too much for this-to see you like this.” She looked to him, finally, her eyes burning, rimmed red. “It’s going to be okay.”
He realized what was happening. He felt his heart sink like a stone. No.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered, eyes locked on his. He believed her. No.
“I just want to be free,” he responded, voice cracking. No.
The waves picked up, the crashing deafening. They welcomed him. No.
“I love you.” No.
“I love you.” No.
“Nothing will ever hurt again.” No.
Yes.
He felt himself lean over, ready. Finally.
--
--
--
--
--
“JIM! JIM!” Someone grabbed his arm, expecting Y/N but only seeing Medina, panting and red-faced.
He looked over the edge and Medina ripped his arm, pulling him away from it fast and hard.
“Where’s…” he trailed off and the world still spun. “Medina?”
“Jim what the fuck are you doing?”she screamed, her voice piercing his ears, not letting go of his arm. She still pulled, willing him further away from the drop and back towards the house.
Everything was clear but he was moving slow. “Where’s Y/N?” he asked. Medina’s eyes were wide with fear. Genuine terror at seeing her brother so close to something she knew she couldn’t live with.
“What?” she bit out, confused and still scared. “I don’t know where she is, she’s not here.” Medina looked at him as if it were obvious but she then realized that maybe it wasn’t so obvious to him with the way his eyes kept darting around.
He was on that bluff alone. She only needed to see him for a second before she moved without thinking-running to him to pull him back. If she wasn’t fast enough she knew her only other option would have been to follow him down into the waves. They needed each other even if they liked to pretend otherwise.
He could tell things were still happening but not exactly what. Medina was talking to him and he could hear himself responding but didn’t know what he was saying. Where’s Y/N?
Medina managed to get him to doze off on the couch, old cartoons playing on the tv while she threaded her fingers through his hair, running them over his too sharp cheekbones. He’d almost done it. He was going over that cliff, she knew it the second she glanced out the living room window and saw him sitting out there.
Awhile ago, maybe he would have just been sitting out there to get air, sneak a cigarette to make himself feel cool or a joint if he was feeling particularly rebellious. She didn’t think there would come a day that she didn't want Jim outside. She felt like Sandy-desperate to keep him there, keep him with her, keep him safe.
He was really gonna do it. She harbored resentment towards him for being the favorite even though she could clearly see where being the favorite got him. Maybe he deserves it. That was the gut instinct after these months of arguing, constant tongue lashings and hurtful comments. Underneath, she knew that what she was feeling wasn’t real. It was the illusion that had been created around him. She wanted him back. That’s all she wanted.
And she knew that it was time. He wasn’t going to make it any longer. Look at him. He was a ghost of himself and she felt a knife twist in her gut when she would hold him like that, no muscle on his frame, blue eyes blown wide but red with purple circles under them. Usually bloodied knuckles or a bruised cheek.
He was dying, it was plainly obvious and she couldn’t believe that it took her this long to want to do something about it-why she waited that long. It stemmed from that jealousy deep inside her but now look where it got them. She tried hating Jim but she knew she really just hated herself.
She lost herself as much as Jim had.
“Medina.” His voice scared her, deeper than she remembered-they hadn’t spoken in so long, and she almost expected the high tenor he had as a child. “I don’t think I was going to-”
“You were,” she deadpanned remembering him leaning far enough over she had to throw all her weight into pulling him back off the edge. A sob ripped from her chest and she started to feel her eyes well up. She didn’t bother holding back, letting herself feel something properly for the first time in forever. “I almost lost you, Jim. I am losing you.”
Jim’s hand reached to hers that was resting on his chest, his head still in her lap. He felt safe there, knowing Medina could protect him. “I don’t want this anymore. I don’t know what I want but I’m tired,” he sighed and did, in fact, sound exhausted mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually spent-nothing else to give.
“We’re gonna get you help, okay?” She was still gasping, unafraid of Jim’s reaction. Maybe he would finally see just how scared she was.
“I don’t know what I want. Just not this. I can’t do it anymore, okay?” His temper flared but was dampened by the cracks in his voice. At a loss for words, his twin nodded, already planning how to salvage him-the rest of her life be damned. She prayed to a god she wasn’t sure she believed in. I’ll do anything. Anything. I’ll stop surfing, I’ll die for him, please. Bargaining, she knew, was one of the stages in grief. I shouldn’t be grieving, he’s right here.
“Can Y/N come back?” Jim said, turning to look at Medina. “She was here a minute ago.”
She hesitated in her response-unsure of how to tackle this given his particular state. “Nobody was out there with you. You were alone,” she spoke slow. Calculated. “And I don’t know if she wants to see you right now. You said such horrible things…”
His brows furrowed in confusion, nose crinkling slightly. “No, no I didn’t,” he decided adamantly. Medina stared at him silently. “That...wasn’t real...I didn’t-I couldn’t. No. No Medina it can’t- Did I-” His breathing picked up as he choked out the words, gasping between each syllable. Her silence spoke volumes to him. “No, call her, please. Please I need to talk to her-I need to let her know that I-”
“I don’t know if that’s-”
“Do it, please-please-please,” he started mumbling. She’d seen him like this before, once hitting his head against the floor so hard she was sure he had a concussion. He stood up too fast, world tilting but managing to catch his balance, and started pacing the living room, biting the cuticle of his thumb. “Medina...please call her.” His voice was hysterical, the plea ripping from his chest.
“I can try, okay?” she said softly, trying to placate him as she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed the once familiar contact.
Y/N actually answered and Medina was a little surprised.
It was still hard to hear her, let alone convince her to come over, while Jim was still rambling and ranting in the background. Medina held him back from trying to smash his head into the coffee table, but understood his need for repentance.
Jimmy’s Sad Pals: @ccodyfern @hellxblade @langdonsrapture @langdonsdemon @coloursunlimited @i-will-die-for-jim-mason @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonalien @tarkofetis @katiekitty261 @lovelykhaleesiii @starwlkers @aveiangdon @heelsamizayn @sojournx @sojournmichael @oneday-i-will-fight-luke17 @americanhorrorstudies @antichristwrites @wroteclassicaly @lvngdvns @langdonsrapture @langdonsinferno @sammythankyou @pink---matter @1-800-bitchcraft @babypinkstyles94 @nana15774 @missantichrist @duncvn @duncan-shepherd @gremlinkween @queencocoakimmie
Gif source: hardyfern
#jim mason x reader#jim mason#the tribes of palos verdes#the tribes of palos verdes fanfic#topv vertigo#ahs apocalypse#ahs fanfiction#jim mason smut#medina mason#michael langdon smut#michael langdon x reader
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Vertigo: Ch 6: Pyro
Vertigo: Chapter 6
Pyro
This fic is in progress.
Jim Mason x Reader
Warnings for this chapter: Smut, drug use and side effects of such use.
Summary: Things were good until they weren’t. Jim starts falling back into old habits. He doesn’t mind.
Notes: This is really where things pick up, as I’m sure you’ll see. The last bit of this chapter is actually my favorite part in the whole story. I hope you enjoy pain. Because this is just the start.
Word Count: 7.2 K
“You’re looking pretty cute over there, you know that?” Y/N nodded at her boyfriend sprawled out over her bed. Her father was out of town and it had been just the two of them for the past few days. They had just gotten done with a pretty long surf set and it was late afternoon, post-surf pizza delivery on the way.
She ran her fingers through her wet hair, snagging on a few tangles that made her wince. Jim was still looking up at her ceiling, face contemplative. He had changed out of his wetsuit and into a pair of sweats, ready for an evening of ironically terrible movies, pizza, and probably a good fuck. It should have been enough for him, and he hated feeling greedy, but it never was.
“Something interesting up there?” She went to lay next to him, the towel she dried off with lay abandoned on the floor.
“Mmmm. Not more interesting than this.” He reached behind her and grabbed a handful of her bare ass. He laughed, carefree, and kissed the top of her head. He didn’t deserve her, was the pervasive thought. Always an undercurrent in this mind.
“Come on, I have to get dressed. Food will be here soon.” She attempted to wiggle her way out from him. He gripped her tight, not letting her escape.
“You don’t have to do anything. Including getting dressed,” he challenged with a rougish smile and flipped her underneath himself.
“Jiiiim,” she couldn’t help but smile herself. “Not now, baby. Later, for sure,” she laughed and pecked him on the lips, but he leaned in and started deepening the kiss.
“Not now?” He pressed his hardness into her, still covered by his sweats. “I’m sorry I can’t help myself sometimes. I have this girlfriend who is absolutely the most stunning creature. And she walks around in a bikini all day. So you can imagine what that does to me.” His mouth moved downward and starting sucking on her neck, collarbone, leaving small bruises in their wake. She let out a small hum and tangled her fingers in his hair directing him further down to her breasts. He took a nipple in his mouth and toyed with it between his teeth. He suddenly stopped. “Oh, but you’re busy, so,” he said sarcastically and went to get off the bed.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and held him in place, pulling him closer to her. “You’re a tease. You know that?” she mumbled kissing the side of his head while he went back to work kissing her neck.
“Me? A tease? Nah,” he said and ground his hips into her. He felt her buck up, seeking any friction.
“Jimmy,” she whined and he had to restrain himself from absolutely wrecking her right there. She could play him like a violin and knew exactly what made him tick. He went back to sucking on her sensitive breasts, avoiding the nipple. A tease, indeed.
He continued down, kissing the flat plane of her tummy, her hip bones, and when he got to her inner thighs he gave a particularly hard bite. She let out a small whimper.
He knew he had her.
“Baby, let’s go out tonight.” He nuzzled into the soft skin relishing the feeling on his lips.
She picked her head up off the pillow to eye him. “Is this bribery?” She nodded at his current position between her thighs while he started to give her folds the smallest kitten licks. She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer to her center. He pulled back and gave her the softest expression she had ever seen. God, he knew how to get her to do anything.
“Is it working? The bribery?” He leaned back down, starting to apply some pressure to his licks, teasing her entrance, but not enough for satisfaction. He licked a stripe up her and she shuddered.
“I wanted you all to myself tonight,” she whimpered and looked at his boyish face from between her thighs. She loved seeing him there, but much preferred it when he was at work down there rather than giving her little puppy dog looks. But then again, he knew that.
“You can have me. All of me...at Aaron’s. He’s having a thing. Small group of us. It’ll be really chill,” he mumbled against her cunt and she knew he was going to win. Between the looks and his persuasion techniques, he could have the world. He moved back to her kissing her thighs and she immediately missed his warm mouth pressed into her, tasting her.
She let out a sigh, desperate for any sort of real pressure. “Okay, whatever, we’ll go. Please just touch me.” Her hips attempted to grind into his lips but he pulled back again. She let out another dejected cry.
“...And you’ll wear that skirt? You know the one.” He couldn’t hold back his grin, head now resting on her thigh, looking up at her.
“Yes, Yes. I know the one.”
“Then we have a deal.” He said and quickly went to make good on his promise. He pressed his mouth to her wet folds, gliding his tongue through. He let out a small moan, loving her taste. Her back started to arch off the bed and he brought a hand up to tease her breasts, pinching and grazing over them.
He continued to lap at her wetness. “Babe. God, Jim,” she gasped out when he trapped her clit between his teeth, applying the smallest pressure. Her hands started pulling his soft brown hair from the root, pressing him further into her. He loved it, being completely surrounded by her, only able to breathe her in.
Changing course, he teased her entrance with his tongue, nose buried in her clit. She couldn’t help but feel warmth pool in her stomach, seeing him like that- her wetness spread over his mouth and chin. He continued like she was his last meal, his groans sending vibrations up her spine. She swept over the hair that fell in front of his eyes, she wanted to see him, always.
His tongue went back to her clit, then licking up and down. Her breaths were coming faster, eyes closing and her head falling against the pillow submitting herself to him completely.
“Babe,” she warned but he already knew she was close, knowing her body almost as well as his own. He hummed and slid a finger into her, slowly pumping it in and out. Another was added shortly thereafter. Her cries were high pitched and music to his ears.
She really started moving her hips in time with him, grinding down onto his lips and fingers. He pulled back and she whined from the loss of contact. “Are you gonna come on my tongue for me, babygirl?”
A loud cry escaped her lips and she nodded. “Yeah, yes.” He went back to sucking on her swollen clit mumbling, “That’s my good girl,” against her warm cunt.
It was the combination of his voice joined with the vibrations they created that took her over the edge, crying his name and throwing her head back. “Jim, Jim,” she chanted like a prayer as he continued to lap at her, riding out her orgasm with her, wanting everything she had to give him. He moaned throughout, catching every drop of her.
She gently started to pull him away, oversensitive to his touch. He smiled and licked her wetness off of his swollen lips. God, he really could never get enough of her. She lay gasping, eyes still closed, trying to slow her breathing. He laid next to her, brushing stray pieces of hair off her forehead, pressing small kisses to her temple. She let out a small giggle, something she often did when a little blissed out. He didn’t know why but it always made his heart melt, seeing the small smile cresting across her lips. She was completely relaxed, carefree.
She opened her eyes to look up at him, still smiling. “Let me…” she said as she went to cup his length in her hand. The doorbell interrupted and she let out a small sigh of disbelief. Jim just smiled, happy to see her happy. Running to the closet, she put on a bathrobe. “I owe you, I swear. Tonight…” She winked as she left the bedroom.
“Oh tonight I’m getting more than just that. So are you- that was the appetizer, honey,” he called after her and he palmed his cock through his pants.
“Good. I’m starving.” Her laughter echoed upstairs and he really wished his mind wasn’t on the dime bag of coke that would be waiting for him later.
--
He could feel it, the pull. It was like a magnet or gravity or whatever else controlled the universe. It was one of those forces that he could feel but not see. Nobody could see it. A force of nature, uncontrollable.
It wasn’t his fault that things were starting up again. Or probably not starting up, more like continuing, but his current coping mechanisms of ‘run away with Y/N and try to forget about things’ wasn’t flawless.
Parties had been a regular occurrence in his life, as well as Y/N’s. She was no angel, he came to learn. She had her own demons to fight and he was more than prepared to fight them with her-but when he couldn’t even face his own, what place did he have to tell her to do the same.
It was coming up, the day. He refused to call it what he supposed it really was, but Medina wouldn’t let him forget about it despite however many little pills he swallowed. He had started seeing Chad more frequently again who was more than happy to start selling to him regularly. “There he is! Our Jimmy’s back, boys!” They had clapped him on the back and shoved another beer in his hand when he had asked to start his regular pickups again. His eyes rolled but he gladly took the tablet, winking at Alex and the others.
Were things getting bad again? Yeah. Did he know that? Yes. Did he care? Not at all. After all, that could all be forgotten with a line, a pill, a pull-he didn’t give a single fuck.
And that was the plan for the evening. To forget everything. Everything except Y/N because honestly, that’s all he could handle. He’d managed to convince her to go to the party and he felt dirty for having to do it. He almost made himself sick watching her get ready-curling her hair and painting her lips in a soft pink, for what was more or less a glorified drug deal.
What was worse was that he knew that she would get high with him and it continued to break his heart a little more every time she leaned down for a line or would lick a pill from his hand like she had all those months ago. She was smarter than that. He knew it. Jim knew he was holding her down but he was also a selfish man. If he wasn’t he’d have given up the drugs and Y/N a while ago. If he was being honest, he probably should have never talked to her. She was too good, too smart.
He took a sip from the water bottle he was holding-trying to loosen the knots in his stomach- while sitting on Y/N’s bed, waiting for her to get her things together.
“Keep drinking that,” she eyed him. “You don’t want a hangover.”
He looked at her curiously.
“Hydration prevents hangovers. Come on, that’s rookie shit, Jim.” She smirked and walked over to him. She placed a delicate kiss on his full lips and he felt some of the lipstick transfer. They laughed as he rubbed it off and headed over to what Jim knew was going to be a good night.
It wasn’t a small gathering and both of them knew that it wouldn’t be. Jim and Y/N were funny, other people would say. They were both perfectly content to be away from one another, Y/N not hanging off his arm like a showpiece, both of them feeling a little freer.
Jim vowed to himself to start off slow. He didn’t want to hit a wall halfway through the night, not when he could extend it for as long as possible-until the sun rose and reminded him of everything that was waiting for him in the light.
He had taken two of the small pink pills Alex had offered, not exactly sure what they were, but really ready for anything. Y/N had escaped him a while back, probably to go find some of the girls she was slowly becoming the ringleader of. He knew that was certainly not intentional, the girls just tended to flock to her despite her constant indifference to them.
A few shots in mixed with those pills had him feeling a pretty good buzz, he realized as he leaned against the outside of the house where guests were now spilling onto the front lawn. He could start to feel the vibrations moving through the air onto him. The colors around him looked a little brighter and his conversations flowed more naturally. He had a nagging suspicion that it was acid or some shit he was rolling on but he couldn’t be bothered to find out.
Y/N’s voice rang in the back of his head about staying hydrated and he decided to head the warning. He found himself in the kitchen, but didn’t exactly remember how he got there. He dumped the warm beer in his cup and filled it with water, grumbling to himself about he wished it was that vodka monstrosity someone had convinced him to have earlier. Tasted like shit, but certainly got him fucked up in record time.
Thinking of Y/N had set him on a mission. Those girls can’t be with her all night. He started to meander through the house starting on the ground level. He found himself caught in a few mundane conversations before he would suddenly remember his goal and start up on looking for her again.
He felt himself smile when he heard her laugh coming from upstairs. Immediately he headed up there to see her for himself. The thought of her in those jeans, the skirt was unfortunately in the laundry, was already making his head spin and he knew how much she liked to fuck while they were tripping together. He had imagined that she already took something, never one to hesitate.
When he saw her he had to suppress a groan as she was surrounded by some of her groupies as well as the bay boys. With the drugs running through his system, he found that he could care less. Walking up to her, pushing one of the guys out of the way, he cornered her against the wall of the hallway.
“Mmmmmm,” he hummed and started nibbling at her neck, already marking her as his. “Y/N, let’s go.”
She mumbled, “Jim, I was talking to people,” but still threaded her fingers into his soft hair, pulling him closer.
“Don’t care. Just need you.” He gripped her ass and brought her center to grind against his hardening cock.
“Baby,” she mumbled. “I can tell you’re on some shit right now, but I’m not there yet.” He pulled back, disappointment decorating his eyes. “Maybe an hour?”
“But I want you now, God. Look at you.” He started slipping his hand down the front of her jeans, unable to contain himself.
“Jim,” she warned, her voice sobering him a little. Her eyes darkened just enough for him to get a rush, however, and he knew she was up to no good. “If you’re a good boy and wait, maybe there will be an extra surprise for you,” she whispered so faintly he could barely hear her over the thumping music and cacophony of voices.
With that, she took his wrist and guided his hand a bit further so his fingers became slicked in her wetness, grinding onto him a few times to be thorough. She then pulled him out of her and guided his hand to her mouth, gently sucking herself off of him. Jim swore he could have cum just from that image, alone.
When Y/N was satisfied, she dropped his wrist, cupped his length through his jeans and mumbled, “Be good for me, and I’ll be good for you.” Y/N turned on her heel and bounded towards the end of the hall. She heard Jim groan, wholly unsatisfied. “One hour!” He heard her call over her shoulder and smile with a girlish giggle.
--
It must have been about an hour later that Jim realized that he should start looking for Y/N. Strange, he didn’t think she’d last the full hour.
“Jim!” He heard in a voice he didn’t expect to hear ever again. Heather was calling over to him from the top of the stairs.
“Uh, hi,” he hesitated, whatever he took not helping the awkward air that had suddenly fallen over him. He didn’t think anything could have fixed the Heather situation.
“You need to get Y/N. She’s….” Heather trailed off and Jim couldn’t help the perplexed expression that crossed his face, looking up at her.
“What?” Maybe he didn’t hear right. Y/N and Heather certainly weren’t friends. Probably quite the opposite, in fact. Why were they hanging out together?
“Jim, I’m not doing this for you. I could literally couldn’t care less about you. But Y/N really isn’t good right now so could you maybe come figure this out?” she snapped.
Something clicked and Jim started bounding up the stairs to find Y/N. No no no no no. It was impossible. She wouldn’t.
He swore he heard Heather going off about how he was the reason for this-how he was going to get Y/N killed. That he was going to get himself killed, not that she cared of course. But he couldn’t pay that any attention as he could literally feel his high fading, adrenaline taking its place.
“Baby,” he was already saying despite not being anywhere close to the group of people standing around the open bathroom door, where he imagined she was. “Move, move.” He shoved the couple people that hovered, demeanor already telling them to leave. “Baby, Y/N, Y/N,” he called out to her.
She was propped up on the sink by one of the Aaron, one of the bay boys Jim was closer with, and he was trying to get her to drink some water. Her skin was pale and she was visibly shaking while suppressing the urge to retch again.
“Jim,” Aaron said a little firm, hoping to snap Jim out of whatever stupor took hold. Jim’s eyes snapped to his friend and he could feel himself actively trying to stay as sober as he could. “She’s been asking for you.” Aaron gestured to Y/N, still in his arms.
Jim stepped over and took her, holding her close to his chest on instinct. “What happened?” He couldn’t hide the panic in his voice. She was mostly asleep, or passed out more likely. Her head lolled over and he brushed the hair out of her fluttering eyelids. “What happened?” Jim said, more forcefully, demanding the answer when Aaron hesitated.
“Alex...he uh. He gave her some new shit.” The pink pills. Fuck. He knew they felt suspiciously familiar but Alex had claimed it was some new designer drug from Europe or whatever.
Y/N had mentioned to Jim that she had bad experiences with certain pills and she was usually careful to only take what she knew would have the desired effect. Alex wouldn’t tell him what it was so he doubted that she knew. She wouldn’t have taken it if she knew. Did he force her? Did she want to take it? Was this something else? One of those date rape things? His mind whirled, unable to keep up.
“Go get Heather,” he managed to choke out. Everyone looked at him like he had lost it, well aware of the bad blood between the two. “She’s a nursing student-go get her!” His raised voice caused Y/N to stir.
“Please, can you just go get Jim, I want to see-”
“Baby, it’s me. I’m here.” She didn’t relax like he hoped she would have. He started to maneuver them onto the ground so she was cradled in his lap, his chest pressed against her back. “Did anyone go get-”
“God, yah I’m here. Calm down.” Heather walked over to the pair and closed the door behind her, keeping prying eyes out. Jim was grateful for that small mercy.
He could feel Y/N starting to get warm under his touch, her breaths coming faster.
“I told you she looks like shit,” Heather said too nonchalantly for his comfort.
“I think she’s allergic or something. I don’t know-she said she doesn’t do molly because she always has a bad trip but- I just- I don’t...” Jim stumbled over his words, trying to get things to happen faster. He could feel his own heart starting to race. Y/N was still unconscious, but starting to make slight twitching movements.
“She took too much. I don’t know what to tell you.” Heather stood above them, looking down, her sneer visible over her rhinoplasty nose.
“Heather, come on. This isn’t about us,” Jim begged through gritted teeth. He was trying to hold his tears back. This was the first time in a long time that he could say that he genuinely was scared. Because this was something that actually mattered.
He saw Heather’s dark eyes soften a fraction after looking at Y/N’s small movements and shivering breaths. His ex crouched next to Y/N and started taking her pulse, her eyes looking anywhere but at Jim.
“She’s warm. And her heart rate is too fast. So’s respiration. Jim, she’s overdosing.” Even Heather was starting to feel bad for the guy. After things ended, no matter how terribly, she was able to see him from a distance. She saw the changes in him.
Jim nearly passed out himself. “Overdosing?” His tone higher than he would have liked. “What am I supposed to do,” his voice cracked and Heather’s heart almost broke from seeing him like that.
“She’s going to be okay. I asked around and they’re pretty sure it’s glorified E. Even if this is a reaction or a bad trip or OD, E is probably the best way for it to happen. Just make sure she keeps breathing and have her drink some cold water when she wakes up.” She turned to leave the cramped bathroom but Jim’s small voice stopped her.
“Please. Stay.” She turned to look at him. “I’m scared,” he admitted and she could tell he was choking on his own tears, she had seen it enough when they dated.
“Jim,” she started but he interrupted by asking again. She sighed and resigned herself to sitting in the furthest corner from the couple. They heard the party start to die down outside as they sat in uncomfortable silence.
Jim couldn't take his eyes off Y/N. He watched her chest rise and fall, counting every time. ‘Make sure she keeps breathing’ he repeated in his head to make sure he stayed on task-terrified of what would happen if he didn’t. She’s going to be okay, she’s going to be okay, she’s going to be okay--
“You have to stop eventually, you know?”
He was pulled out of his trance like state of rocking himself and Y/N, mumbling, and running his fingers through her hair. Heather looked at him for the first time. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“What?” Jim looked back at her thinking that maybe he had missed part of the conversation. It had happened often enough when he was high.
“If you keep this up. I see what’s happening.”
Jim was still confused. “What’s...happening?” he managed.
“Jim,” she scoffed. “Everyone knows what’s going on. We all know what you’re doing and it’s worse than last time.”
“You don’t know shit,” he bit out, perhaps too hard.
Heather moved to stand up and Jim almost apologized. “She’s going to be fine. Just cold water when she’s awake. If in doubt, call an ambulance, please don't be stupid, okay?”
Jim only found himself to smally nod, looking back at Y/N’s peaceful, now flushed, face.
“Hey,” Heather said softer than he thinks she’s ever said to him before. He looked up to her dark eyes. “Just quit that shit, okay?” And with that she left the small room and gently clicked the door back shut.
A few moments later, Y/N started blinking her wide eyes. She immediately tried to grab Jim’s arm that was holding her to him, sensing it as a threat but when she heard the familiar voice and felt gentle touches, she knew it was Jim.
“Y/N?” his voice cracked.
“Hi,” she breathed out, trying to remain calm, knowing exactly what was happening.
“Are you okay?” he asked at a complete loss of words.
“No. But I will be.” She closed her eyes and felt unexpected tears fall. Seeming to take her cue and their privacy, he started softly cry, pressing his face into her hair.
“I could have lost you,” he sobbed out but she was still distant-feeling far and detached, poison still in her blood.
“You didn’t.” She knew she was saying these things but they felt like they completely bypassed her brain-going on reflex. Unable to feel. Numb.
“I didn’t.” He tightened his arms around her.
She mumbled something that he didn’t quite hear. “Hmm?”
“I’ve gotta stop this shit.” She looked at him, his pupils still blown, eyes red and puffy, face drawn. “We’ve gotta stop this shit.” She closed her eyes but the sight of him was still behind her eyelids. There was no room to judge because she knew she probably looked worse.
She felt him press his hand to her cheek and she turned to place a kiss in his palm. He didn’t know how to respond or if he even should considering how her eyes were glazing over again. “We’ve gotta stop this shit. He knew she was right. Of course, she was. She always was.
He should stop. And Heather had noticed-well she’s always been a nosey bitch, anyway- but even she was worried. Probably the person that hated him the most was worried about him. And he knew he still wouldn’t stop. He knew that this should scare him, and it did-for her. But had be been in her place, he couldn’t care less. In fact, something about that was almost a comforting thought.
Y/N’s eyes were shut but her lips moved softly. “It’s too much for me. All this.”
Jim still didn’t know if he should answer. But he did, anyway. “It’s not enough for me. It never is.”
--
Medina squeezed herself into the pastel pink dress chosen for her by the not-so-blushing bride. It wasn’t tight like the embrace of a warm wetsuit, but instead the snug fit of a noose around her neck.
Jim wasn’t home but she still hung his tux on the outside of his closet as a gentle reminder that today was the day.
Things had been good until they weren’t.
Medina saw the way his clothes started to fit looser, the way he would shake when trying to text. His jaw was clenched so hard half the time she thought his teeth would snap. Sometimes she would hear him try to stifle cries and screams while the shower ran.
Things were good. But they were horrible, too.
Y/N fell into his orbit and made him secure, safe. She wasn’t there though, not that day. The day was Phil’s wedding. Phil and Rebecca. Rebecca was some redhead nurse that had starting working at his practice a year ago. The upcoming date was having a snowball effect on both Jim and Sandy, who was currently locked in her bedroom, holed up with the blinds shut.
Medina still didn’t know if she wanted to go despite her already dressing and carefully applying makeup. She was still his daughter. A deep part of her still wanted to make him proud even if she was too embarrassed to admit it.
She and Jim had countless conversations about their father’s wedding, each worse than the previous.
“We have to go, Jim. We’re his only children,” Medina said kicking a rock off the cliff edge they were balanced on.
“I’m not going.” Final. She knew she shouldn’t press, but since when did Medina listen to limits.
“Just do it. It’s one day and then you never have to see him again,” she tried to reason.
His face was contemplative but his teeth still ground together-jaw tight. “Medina. I don’t think me being there would make it a better day. I don’t give a fuck about him and his new whore,” Jim’s words were scathing and she was happy their dad wasn’t there to hear them. She tried to convince herself that he didn’t mean them. “I’m on mom’s side, remember?”
“There are no sides in this,” she whispered, the crashing waves almost silencing her.
“Yeah. There’s always sides. And mom and I obviously know whose you’ve chosen,” he sneered as he went to stand up on wobbling legs. “Move.” He tapped her back with his foot, she still sat with her legs slung over the cliff.
She didn’t. She sat with her jaw almost as tight as Jim’s. “Medina, move or I’ll push you off this fucking cliff.”
She took one look at him and knew he was serious. Deciding moving was in her best interest, she did.
--
The conversations continued. Each time Medina’s comments more snappy and Jim’s pupils blown impossibly wider. He was always loud when he was like that so Medina was pretty sure their mother, and neighbors, knew exactly what was going on.
Jim was her best friend. The only person she could really talk to. The only one that understood her, and she was the only one who could understand him. But he wasn’t himself. She couldn’t think like him anymore.
“Mom,” she whispered outside Sandy’s locked door of her bedroom. When there was no response she knocked lightly.
“The fuck you want, Medina?” she screamed out, voice sounding raw.
“I’m going to head out, okay? I’ll be home late,” she still whispered.
“Where’s Jim?” The door swung open to reveal Sandy clinging onto dirty tissues, makeup running down her face, always clad in her bathrobe. She eyed her daughter with contempt.
Sandy pushed past her and continued to the living room, on the hunt for her son. “Jim!, Jim!” she started shrieking.
“He’s not here. I don’t know where he went,” Medina said gently. She was really trying her best with her mom as she could see how hard this day must be. Medina wasn’t a robot, she did have a little empathy for her. Granted that was overshadowed by an immense hatred.
“I know where he’s not. I know he isn’t abandoning me,” Sandy sneered. This was followed by a laugh that shook Medina to her bones. Sandy continued to look at her daughter as if she were under a microscope. “You look ridiculous. Flat a board, Medina.” And with that, she stomped back into her bedroom.
Medina sighed and tried calling Jim one more time before driving to the ceremony in her little yellow beetle. He didn’t answer. She was too exhausted to worry about him anymore.
--
The ceremony was beautiful, she admitted. It was full of soft colors and flowers, obviously was chosen by the new Mrs. Mason. The thought that she now shared her last name with another person made her shudder so she took another sip of her champagne.
Phil had given her a hug the moment she walked through the door to the wedding venue. When he asked if Jim was able to make it she pretended she didn’t hear him and swore that she saw him actually shed a tear. Letting herself be whisked from family member to friends of the new couple, her mind started to wander.
The Masons didn’t have much family, just some aunts from the east coast. Cooing about how much she had grown up and how much she resembled her grandmother had gotten old fast. Their next topic was worse.
Having to explain to everyone that Jim wasn’t there was horrid. She started making the stories more ridiculous as she went. “He tried to surf down the stairs.” “He’s donating his left kidney to an orphan.” “He was in a shark attack.” They all gave her strange looks. She didn’t care.
Rebecca was upset that the photographs were off center. It was supposed to be four bridesmaids and four groomsmen framing the couple in their photographs and at the ceremony. With Jim missing, she was the odd one out. The extra bridesmaid, Medina was forced to walk down the aisle alone, smiling, pretending her brother was by her side. She opted out of the photos and kicked her heels off the first chance she had.
Immediately following the ceremony was the reception which carried over the same theme of pastels and flowers. With a little champagne in her, all the colors started to blend in a sick imitation kaleidoscope. The night had passed in similar fashion to the ceremony. “Oh, yeah he’s actually really sick.” “He’s in the hospital.” “He died.” She couldn’t help but feel like now the excuses were getting closer to the truth.
Not a single person was satisfied with having just Medina there because that’s what it was, right? Just Medina. If Jim were in her place she would bet her life that they wouldn’t ask about her. Not even once. She rolled her eyes and speared another piece of her steak.
After dinner, she hid in the bathroom to avoid any more ‘Jim’ questions. She was running out of excuses for him. After taking a few shots she was starting to feel better, though.
I get it, Jim. She thought pretending he could hear her on the other end-something she had done since they were kids. Twin telepathy, or whatever. The room was fuzzy and warm where she perched on the edge of the sinks, watching videos on how to perfect your roundhouse cutback.
The liquor running through her veins did make her curious as to what those little white pills felt like. Fucking coward. That’s what he was. Unable to cope. Weak.
The thought of her twin brother suddenly made her furious. He was already everyone’s favorite, always got the attention, friends, love. He was perfect and nobody would ever let her forget it. And he still ran from it. Ran from every opportunity to be happy.
The only reason they still think he’s perfect was because of her. What if she stopped covering for him? Or was honest to their friends and family? “Why isn’t Jim here? Oh well, you see he’s probably tripping balls, high as a kite on some cliff, trying to run from all of his problems instead of manning up and handling them.”
And why the fuck was Y/N still with him? She had everything going for her-looks, personality, money, smarts. Why Jim? She was her friend first. Of course, she went to Jim. Everyone always does. Sometimes she wanted to take her friend’s pretty face and shove it in the waves. “Is his dick really that good? Or are you just desperate?” Medina smiled.
There was a sudden commotion outside and she figured it was time to cut the cake or whatever happens at weddings. She rolled her eyes and tapped on another video, not caring that she was probably using all their data plan. It was when she heard a familiar voice yelling did she decide she had to see this with her own eyes.
She couldn't’ hold back the biting laugh when she saw her lanky brother being dragged out of the building. Her legs started to follow despite her head wanting to do anything but.
“‘Dina! See! I know her!” he hollered and pointed to her over the shoulder of one of their uncles. Medina was pretty sure they didn’t recognize him. “Medina!”
He was in jeans and a tee shirt and looked like he had just been dipped in a pool he was sweating so much. Completely manic.
Medina stood, shell-shocked that this was even happening, her blood running cold. Without thinking she bunched up her pink gown in one hand, happy she lost the shoes hours ago, and stormed over to her twin. In her other hand she grabbed his forearm. Hard.
“Ow, stop that.” He pawed at her weakly as she dragged them outside near the valet parking.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she screamed, vicious. He just laughed in response, his head thrown back exposing his prominent veins in his neck.
“You’re the one that begged me to come.” He opened his arms and gestured to himself. “Well. Here I am,” and he kept laughing.
“You’ve lost it, you know that?” She moved closer to him and pushed his shoulders back, making him stumble a little. “You’ve gone completely batshit and you won’t even remember it tomorrow.” She pushed him again.
“No, no, no. I’m not the one that’s lost it, Medina. That’s you!” He pointed a long finger at her. “Going to dad’s wedding? His wedding.” He rolled his eyes so hard that he almost made himself fall backward. “Bullshit. It’s all fucking bullshit. All of this.”
“Jim. Go home. Don’t make this more embarrassing,” she demanded.
“For who? For dad? For you? Are you embarrassed by me?” He still was too loud. The valet parking workers had started to look on from the periphery. “‘Cause I’m embarrassed by you a lot but I don’t tell you that, now do I?”
She didn’t know what to say and held her breath. Maybe if she held it long enough she’d wake up and this would all be a nightmare.
She’d wake up in her childhood bed back home in Michigan and Jim would be next to her, crawling in because sometimes he was afraid of the dark. They’d be six again. A Sunday. Dad would be making pancakes. Mom would be slicing fruit. The news would be on but Jim would change it to Looney Tunes.
“You’re embarrassed,” he scoffed. “You embarrass yourself going around staring at people, being weird. I’ve had to talk you up to so many people trying to get you friends but you always scare them off. Sometimes I wish you were normal, God.” He looked at her, disgusted.
“Normal? Because this is so normal,” she gestured to him, his strung-out appearance, his too loud voice. Somehow he was still beautiful to her. “It’s not normal to stay cooped up watching your mother as a twenty-two year old man. It’s not normal to be so obsessed with her!” She was screaming now, too. Let them listen.
“Me? Obsessed with her? Oh, you’ve got it so backwards you don’t even know. It’s sad that you still have to convince ‘Daddy’ that you’re the favorite,” he mocked her. She had called their Dad ‘Daddy’ until Jim said it wasn’t cool to do that anymore. She listened to him. She always did.
“Jim, I’m fucking sick of this.”
His face took a turn. Going from pure rage into something marked of sadness. She saw tears start to well in his ocean blue eyes. “Why can’t it be different?” He couldn’t keep up with the conversation. It felt like his mind was being pulled in so many directions it was going to snap. Maybe it would and this would finally be over. Everything would be over.
“What?” she bit out, obviously still furious despite her confusion on his topic change.
“Do you remember when we went to Lake Michigan?” The questions made perfect sense in his head so he repeated it when she clearly didn’t understand. “We hid in those dunes, remember? We had to share the bed in the hotel and you twisted your ankle running on the beach?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Of course, she remembered. He knew she did.
“I only need you. That’s it. It’s you and me, whether you like it or not.” He smiled his thousand-watt smile but she could still see the hostility in his eyes, hiding behind blown pupils. “I made you laugh so hard-we laughed so hard.” His tears spilled over and fell onto his too prominent cheekbones.
“It’s never going to be like that again, Jim. It’s over. Move on.” She knew she was still yelling even though he had stopped awhile ago. They still stood facing each other, a few feet apart.
“I want it back. It’s me and you,” he repeated and he could start to feel the blackness creep into his vision. He kept nodding even though he willed himself to stop.
Medina continued as if he didn’t speak. “That’s your problem.” She had a revelation. “You don’t move on. That’s why you’re so much like mom.”
He stepped forward, fast and angry, and she shrunk back, genuinely scared of him like this. She honestly wasn’t sure if he would hurt her.
Something told her that he would.
Despite her better judgment, she continued. “You know? You’re becoming crazy like her, too. Relying on everyone except yourself.”
His eyes softened and he took a step back. He started biting at his cuticles until one bled. His head started to shake slowly, his eyes no longer seeing anything that made sense.
“Everyone is tired of your bullshit, Jim. Nobody cares anymore. We’re exhausted. This is exhausting.” She knew what she would say next would break him but to be honest, she stopped caring. “Ask Y/N.”
Jim’s eyes widened and he cocked his head. He ran his hand through sweaty hair and he kept blinking his red puffy eyes. It made Medina furious that she still loved him. Even like this.
She dropped her voice to just above a whisper. There was no reason for anyone else to hear it except him. “She’s done with you. Ask her. Everyone’s done with your bullshit. Even Y/N,” she sneered, knowing that she hit him where it would hurt long and hard.
He slid to his knees, unable to keep his vision upright. She didn’t go to catch him.
“I’m not your handler. I don’t want to take care of you anymore. I’m done.” Medina turned on her bare heel and started back into the party.
Time was different for Jim, but he knew he managed to get out, “I need you, Medina,” before he collapsed completely, his face scraping against the concrete. He tasted blood in his mouth, the copper tang grounding him to reality. The only thing keeping him there.
“I don’t need you, Jim. Not anymore,” was the last thing he heard before succumbing completely to the cocktail of pills and powders he had taken.
In his life, he had never felt more alone.
Jim in pain squad: @ccodyfern @langdonsrapture @langdonsdemon @coloursunlimited @thecinderellaposts @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonalien @tarkofetis @stupidocupido @katiekitty261 @ovarydosed @lovelykhaleesiii @starwlkers @aveiangdon @heelsamizayn @americanhorrorstudies @sojournmichael @oneday-i-will-fight-luke17 @tickled-pinkmoodpoisoning @codysfallenangels
Special thanks to @thecinderellaposts @michael-langdon-appreciation @starwlkers @ccodyfern @babypinkstyles94 for letting me tease you all with more Jim content and then take forever to write it. ily <3
#jim mason#jim mason x reader#jim mason hc#the tribes of palos verdes#tribes of palos verdes#tribes#tribes of PV#topv#topv vertigo#cody fern#palos verdes#palosverdesestates#michael langdon#michael langdon x reader#michael langdon smut#jim mason smut#ahs fanfiction#medina mason#fic#fanfic#topv fic#The tribes of palos verdes fanfic
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Vertigo: Ch 8: Nameless Town
Vertigo: Chapter 8
Nameless Town
This fic is in progress.
Jim Mason x Reader
Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of drug use and addiction
Summary: Jim tries to piece together the aftermath of what happened between him and Y/N.
Notes: A small breather from last chapter. Just lots of reflection and not a lot of drama. Jim’s hurting and realizing that maybe there isn’t a way out of the mess he’s gotten himself into.
Word Count: 3.2 K (sorry it’s a bit short!)
6:54 am [From: Jimmy] I’m so sorry baby. Please answer.
7:02 am [From: Jimmy] Okay. Just let me know you’re okay.
7:06 am [From: Jimmy] Hey I don’t know if you made it home-I won’t bother you if that’s what you want but please just tell me you got home safe.
7:22 am [From: Jimmy] I love you.
She opened the message and immediately closed the app before she could type out a response. If he would just stop it would be so much easier for both of them. Honestly, she didn’t know what this was. A break? A breakup? Just a fight? Something completely different?
Declining calls was much preferred to facing the questions and attempting to remedy the knot in her stomach. Every time she thought of his face, looking at her while Sandy tore at her hair and threw her into the cold, she had to hold back the bile that rose in her throat.
She was lucky to be alive, waking up on the cold beach, grey with morning fog. The hypothermia threat was real, and she was confused and a little angry that she didn’t have something more permanent to remember that night. The emotional scars didn’t match her lack of physical. She wondered if this was how Jim felt all the time. Because she understood, now.
Her phone rang again, across the bathroom from where she sat in the warm tub attempting to settle her shaking bones. She was starting to hear phantom rings- her stomach dropping, a sob escaping, and her muscles tightening every time she ‘heard’ one. He wasn’t supposed to make her feel this way. She was scared of him and that just wasn’t right.
The previous night ran on a loop. Sober. Party. Jim. Fight. Jim. Cries. Apologies. Jim. Sleep. Jim. Sandy. Jim. The ocean. Jim. Jim. Jim.
It was difficult though, to discern if it was him she was afraid of or what he was becoming. Sandy scared her, too. It made sense why Jim was under her thumb, caged by her imitation of love. His eyes told her everything she needed to know. He was Sandy’s everything, but he was losing everyone else. His eyes were defeated-no fight left in him. And she knew what that meant, what he was doing.
One look also told her that he knew exactly what he was doing to himself. Too afraid to end it in one go, he preferred to stretch it out-feel everything one last time. ‘I’m scared’ He had told her. She didn’t know if she would make it through the aftermath.
The water she was sitting in turned cold long ago but she didn’t want to move. She didn’t know where to go. The phone kept ringing. She wouldn’t let herself answer.
--
The next morning, after everything, Sandy continued on as normal. Jim watched her write lists out in red pen: Ways To Destroy Phil and His New Slut, while she cooked him eggs. She laid them out in front of him, expecting him to devour them the way he used to, but he wouldn’t look up from his phone, incessantly typing.
It was obvious to anyone but Sandy that he was on a hard crash. Small breaths escaped him in huffs, just trying to remember to breathe while his chest seized up thinking about the previous night. To his horror, he remembered everything. Really, how could he forget. Just looking at the goddamn eggs made him feel nauseous. Then again, so did looking at his phone-Y/N-the open contact.
She wasn’t responding and he thought that he should know what that means.
8:30am [To:Y/N] Y/N, all I need is one word. Let me know you’re home or I’ll come over there.
8:31am [To:Y/N] I’m not going to be responsible for you being washed up dead on a beach.
Maybe that was a little harsh, he thought. But if scare tactics was what it took to make sure she was okay, he would use them. Then again, maybe she had enough scare tactics to stay far, far away from all of the Masons for the rest of her life. He knew that he would have been long gone is he was her.
8:33---[From: Y/N] I’m fine.
He let out a relieved sigh, catching Sandy’s attention.
“I know, honey. She’s crazy, thinking that she could take you away from me. We both know you’re happiest here.” His mother leaned her elbows on the kitchen island and looked to Jim, Medina completely ignored in the living room, trying to get her things together before going to the library or a café or really anywhere away from her mother and Jim.
Medina had heard everything that happened-it was impossible not to. She wanted to hate Y/N, still feeling she had responsibility in Jim’s addiction, but hearing how soft she was with him made her heart ache. She heard Y/N sneak them in, whispering all sorts of nonsense to Jim, anything to distract him and keep him calm. From experience, Medina knew just how bad Jim could get when he was high and from listening to Y/N it was pretty clear that she knew the extent of it too.
She hadn’t spoken to her only friend since Phil’s wedding. Each of them holding Jim over friendship with the other, they would always choose Jim. Everyone would. Y/N was responsible, anyway.
Sure Jim slowed down when she first started spending time with him, but Y/N wasn’t stupid. Medina knew that Y/N knew it was inevitable that he would fall back into his safety net of pills. And from what she heard from the bay boys and other college kids in PV, Y/N wasn’t so innocent of dabbling in the same shit Jim did. She should have stopped trusting her long ago.
Medina watched her mess of a brother staring at his phone, no longer typing, but looking like he couldn’t think of anything else to say. She hadn’t mentioned anything to Jim about the previous evening. She hadn’t spoken to Jim in weeks, not for lack of trying.
When he finally snapped at her, punching the drywall in his room so hard his knuckles bleed, she decided to stop. She tried to stop caring altogether but something primal held her to him. Her twin. From one came two. He was her other half and she now understood quite well what it was like to lose yourself, considering half of her was already gone. She felt like a shell of herself. Incomplete.
Jim picked his phone up again and started to type out a message, stopped, and deleted everything he had written. Medina saw him hunched over, the plate of eggs cooling in front of him.
“You’ll get over her, Jim. It’s not like you were married and she ran off to marry someone else. Because that is hard to go through,” Sandy laughed, bitter, still looking at Jim. “But we’re going to take him down. Sure the divorce went through, but he doesn’t know how bad I can ruin him.” The fact that Sandy continued to be completely self-invested wasn’t a surprise to anyone, least of all Jim. Strangely, he didn’t mind. After all, it just made it simpler for him to do what he needed to. Sandy’s ignorance of his problem greatly worked in his favor despite his complete lack of effort to hide it anymore.
He still kept his pills in drawers, in his car, stuck to the top of an old shoebox in his closet, regardless of the fact that his dirty secret was now practically screaming from the rooftops. He supposed old habits die hard. It just became one of those things that wasn’t mentioned-that nobody willing to save him. He wasn’t sure if he was pleased with that or not. With Sandy’s ignorance and Medina and him not on speaking terms, Phil was completely in the dark.
He knew that Y/N was worried but scared to say anything to him. And after last night he wouldn’t be shocked to find that she also no longer cared what happened to him. Judging by her lack of responses, he’d wager that she chose her side-firmly away from him. Good. He didn’t need to take her down any further, but he found himself too selfish to leave.
He still stared at his phone despite the screen remaining black for minutes. Medina carefully moved next to him, placing her backpack on the barstool of the kitchen island. She looked to Jim’s eggs, still untouched, and then back to the cupboard where the cereal was. Sandy had only made enough breakfast for Jim, of course.
Jim placed his phone back on the counter, releasing it from the white-knuckled grip he had it in for so long. Medina couldn’t help but wonder what Y/N was saying to him-or if she was saying anything at all, judging by the lack of text notifications. All the same, she wondered what Jim could possibly be saying to try to salvage his relationship. She thought that maybe there was nothing left to save.
Jim saw her reaching for the cabinet above her and silently slid over the dish that was previously in front of him. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t say anything. But it was an effort nonetheless.
Medina looked at him, pale and thin with chapped lips and puffy eyes. She didn’t blame him for the eyes though, she was sure they were from crying. She had heard him all night.
“Thank you,” she murmured and stabbed a forkful. They were cold and he knew that. Neither of them had noticed Sandy leave the room, probably searching for one of Phil's old hidden checkbooks, planning on buying god knows what this time.
Jim’s hands shook and he went to pick up the phone again despite it not lighting up with any notification. His pale hands shook, knuckles scabbing over, the tendons and bones only serving to extend his already long fingers. She wasn’t sure if the shaking was from what he was coming down from or genuine fear.
Because she could feel the fear radiating off of him and that was new. Medina could feel shifts in Jim’s energy like nobody else, she liked to think a product of their time in the womb together. Their ‘twin thing.’ For years he had been a constant conglomerate of nervous energy, stress, insecurity, all underlined by a deep chasm of sadness. But fear was new. She didn’t like it.
--
“She’s not talking to me,” he repeated for the thousandth time and Medina sighed but didn’t mind his repetition. At least he was speaking.
“I know,” she responded just how she had the whole time, every time.
Jim’s head sat in her lap and her fingers ran through dark hair, pushing it out of his eyes and off his clammy forehead.
“I miss her.” His words slurred, eyes unfocused on the night sky above them. Gemini was out, Medina recognized, after years of Jim showing it to her she could finally start to make out the shape rather than just pinpoints of light. The twins.
“I know, Jim,” she whispered and continued the now meditative motion, his hair soft around her fingers.
She had come home to see Jim laying on her bed in the fetal position, back shaking with dry sobs. Obviously high on something, he asked her to talk to him-something that had calmed him down since childhood. He liked the sound of her voice. It sounded safe.
He had taken to doing that lately. Breaking into Medina’s room when he was too far gone to remember it the next day where it would be back to tense silences and a viper like tongue shooting comments, if not absolute ignorance of her. She was still all too content to lay holding him, talking to him, telling him all the things she wouldn’t dare when he was sober. He never remembered the next day.
She had managed to maneuver him outside onto their patio furniture hoping to keep his temperature down and give him the stars to look at. He didn’t look at her, eyes transfixed on the swirling light above them.
“Medina she can’t leave me. Not like you left me,” he whispered, looking up at Gemini.
She couldn’t look away from him, though, afraid that maybe it would be the last time she would see him with any amount of life in his eyes. Medina knew she should say something to someone-anyone. She was a coward-not the strong, brave one like Jim thought.
“I didn’t leave you, Jim. I’m right here,” she continued to whisper, afraid that Sandy would wake up.
“You’re right here,” he quoted back to her.
“We’re going to get out of here, Jim. Me and you, okay?” She tried to smile, holding back the tears that would often escape when she did this for him.
He heard her words. Soft and warm, with the ocean’s waves crashing in the background. He wanted to look at his sister, but he couldn’t move-Gemini was looking at them. Perfect mirrors of each other. If he kept his eyes open long enough he could see the stars moving, the world spinning, so he usually closed them. He didn’t need a reminder that things just kept moving without him. That was something he knew all too well.
“We’re gonna go to Bali. Surf every single day from sunrise until sunset. The water is so blue there,” she whispered to him, his eyes now fluttering shut.
“What about Y/N? You’re mad at her,” Jim finally turned his body to the side, obviously starting to nod off. Medina slipped one of her hands into Jim’s, he squoze one, two, three times. I love you. Even if he couldn’t bring himself to say it-even high-she knew he meant it.
“I’m not mad at her,�� she lied. Medina looked away, out towards the bay. She watched the whitewash break over the jagged rocks, somehow more calm than anything else in her line of sight.
“But she’s mad at me.” His voice cracked and she stroked his back, trying to prevent the inevitable cries he was so prone to when like this.
“I don’t think she’s mad. I think she’s scared.”
“I’m scared, Medina.” He sounded clearer than he had in awhile. Almost sober.
She stopped her ministrations. “Why are you scared?”
“Because I know what happens next. There’s no turning back now,” he sighed with a half hearted laugh. A current passed through them.
“Jim?” Medina sat up a little straighter but he didn’t respond, already succumbed to dreamless sleep.
“I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”
She swore she felt a small shake of his head against her thigh. No.
--
He remembered a fight. He remembered punching and bleeding then Y/N shouting and him crying. He remembers that she was so gentle with him despite him having just almost broken her wrist. He remembers her whispers against his ear, her lips being soft. And then his mom was there, hurting her and he panicked.
That’s what he always did-freeze. He reasoned that if you’re not moving, no decisions needed to be made. And he couldn’t choose. People were always telling him that love is a powerful thing but he was absolutely convinced that fear was a hell of a lot stronger.
That was the only reason he stayed. If love could be stronger, he’d have scooped up Y/N and left ages ago. He would have left before she was even in PV. He would have left when this all started. He knew he was weak and how weak he had become.
It was nights where his mind was soft and warm, but not enough so that he was losing it, that he liked to go outside. This time of year, night surfing was a rare thing so he had the bay to himself. It wasn’t like he was actually surfing, though. He was too exhausted, probably unable to even paddle out far enough against the pull of the tide.
He carefully made his way down the rocky path from his house to the bay, not bothering with a wetsuit, let alone shoes. The cold water met his feet with a satisfying sting and he couldn’t help but smile. Water.
It had been weeks since he had spoken to Medina, but some mornings she looked overly hopeful that things would return to normal. One time she attempted to explain that they did, in fact talk, but Jim had slammed the door in her face before she could get another word out. Fucking liar.
Y/N...he pressed the memory down with another sip of the beer he had brought with him.
He placed the smooth board into the inky waves and started to wade out into the calm water, feeling the cold and burn in his muscles and lungs, the smooth of the board under his belly felt like home. Completely saturated and out far enough from the break, he turned and saw the little lights that made up Palos Verdes. Homes, each with their own story, their own people, despite each one looking the same. The same red tiled roofs, beige pain, trimmed grass. They looked like stars from far enough away-the small pinpricks of light on a black cliffside.
Stars.
He leaned back, laying on the board that held him just in line with the water, letting his head fall back and his mouth to open. Stars. They’ve fascinated him since he was a child-he just always wished he could be closer. When they were kids, Medina told him he should be an astronaut but he knew that wasn’t close enough. He wanted to live among them, breathe them, become one. Free floating in the universe, surrounded by inky black that was somehow so full of light.
He felt the waves below him. Water. Medina. He closed his eyes, shutting out the little light that decorated the bay, from the homes, from the sky.
Jim’s heart thrummed against his chest, a hummingbird trapped in its cage. He didn’t want to think about Y/N, but good god she eclipsed his soul. And he had never been so happy in his life until he had to return to himself. She was strong. Like Medina.
And they would be fine.
In his selfishness, he still liked to think about her in that ivory dress, barefoot on the beach. Palm trees casting shadows on her cheekbones while she walked towards him to become his forever. But was she even his anymore? He didn’t know. There wasn’t going to be a forever, regardless.
The waves rocked him as he felt his blood pulsing in his veins. He looked up. Stars.
Alone, floating in the bay, he drifted for some time before falling asleep still in the water. He was disappointed when the grey morning had woken him, still saturated, but washed up on the beach-his surfboard just a few yards away. He hoped that next time the tides would just pull him out to sea.
Jim’s group of sad friends: @ccodyfern @langdonsdemon @coloursunlimited @thecinderellaposts @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonalien @tarkofetis @katiekitty261 @ovarydosed @lovelykhaleesiii @starwlkers @aveiangdon @heelsamizayn @sojournx @sojournmichael @oneday-i-will-fight-luke17 @tickled-pinkmoodpoisoning @americanhorrorstudies @wroteclassicaly @langdonsdemon @langdonsrapture @langdonsinferno @sammythankyou @pink---matter @1-800-bitchcraft @babypinkstyles94 @nana15774 @duncvn
#jim mason#jim mason x reader#jim mason hc#the tribes of palos verdes#the tribes of palos verdes fanfic#tribes#topv vertigo#cody fern#palos verdes#michael langdon#michael langdon x reader#jim mason smut#ahs apocalypse#medina mason
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Vertigo: Chapter 5: Walls
Vertigo: Chapter 5
Walls
This fic is in progress.
Jim Mason x Reader
Warnings for this chapter: Smut, mentions of drug use
Summary: Things are finally good and Jim is starting to think that maybe, just maybe, things will get even better.
Notes: Oh my sweet, Jim. Really just some fluff and smut as Jim’s newest relationship is explored. Enjoy it while it lasts because.......it doesn’t last :)
Word Count: 6.1K - hope that makes up for the wait :)
Long shadows stretched over the wooden table, now littered with both their empty mugs, notebooks, and laptops. The sun was setting, a far cry from the high light that shone in when she entered the coffee shop. Jim guessed that they had been there close to eight hours, neither of them getting much work done.
His phone vibrated against the table, again. Y/N signed and snatched it up before he could. She held it so he could see “Gremlin” pop up as the contact name. Of course, it was Medina.
“Answer the phone, Jim,” she deadpanned. Medina had called a few times over the course of the day, Sandy, too. He had declined them all, repercussions be damned.
“No, it’s fine. It’s just Medina.”
“She’s worried about you. Just let her know that you’re fine,” she stopped herself from answering the phone herself, feeling that maybe that was taking things a little too far.
She could tell that Jim was a very private person despite the way he acted when all the boys were around. He seemed much smaller sitting there, pinched brows looking at his laptop and notes. He had shrugged off his denim jacket hours ago and was just in a tee shirt she had to stop herself from imagining herself wearing to bed. His arms were exposed, tan and toned from hours in the sun. She always thought he was most beautiful with the sun on him, soaking in its light and radiating it out.
“She needs to stop worrying about me. I’m fine,” he leaned over and gently grabbed the phone from Y/N. “I’ll text her, how about that?”
“Fine,” she said with a graceful simplicity. “But are you fine?”
His eyes flashed something of fear, fear of her finding out more than he had intended. “Because I’ve had you here hostage for like, hours now,” she continued and he exhaled the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Sorry your one night stand became,” she gestured to their messy table and herself, making a face.
He laughed, a little uncomfortable. Was that all that was? A one night stand? Swallowing thickly he said, “Doesn’t have to be a one-night thing.” She gave him a quizzical look, seeking an explanation.
“Jim. I can’t believe that I have to be the person to remind you, but you have a girlfriend.”
He felt his stomach tie itself in knots. If he was Phil, then this was his sidepiece reminding him of his real relationship. He tried to push his feelings down, deal with them later.
He hesitated. “I don’t think Heather is...that anymore,” he murmured, feeling his face burn. “She hasn’t answered my calls or texts for two weeks.”
“Oh,” Y/N responded, her voice small. “I’m so sorry. I would never have-I didn’t know-” she tried to find the words she wanted to say but all of them fell short.
“It wasn’t you!” he reassured her. “I’m pretty sure I said some shit earlier that night. I don’t really remember that part…” he trailed off, still embarrassed.
“Okay...I’m still sorry,” she consoled quietly.
“Don’t be,” he managed another smile and she felt her heart waver. “What is that saying? Liquor reveals true feelings or personality or whatever?” He looked to her. “And I really didn’t like her that much, anyway,” he mumbled, a little more quiet.
“Yeah, I remember you saying that,” she let out a sad laugh. “Are you going to break my heart, Jim?” her voice lilted and he couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not.
He answered honestly, anyway. “Y/N, I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”
--
Somehow the conversation had turned to other things. That’s how he found himself awkwardly standing in the foyer of her massive house. Arched ceilings, high windows, sweeping staircase. He admired the architecture but chastised the luxury. I’d all be torn down in a few years anyway.
“What do your parents even do?” he shouted to her after she had run upstairs. He didn’t follow. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. No more quick and dirty fucks, at least not until he had made sure she actually liked him for him. He couldn’t bear to hurt her and he didn’t think he could take any more hurt, himself. He wanted to move slow.
“It’s just my dad. He does something for the Pentagon. Defense or something?” her voice traveled down the stairs where he could hear her rummaging around. He found himself imagining her bedroom. “Is it bad that I don’t really know?” she said reappearing at the top of the stairs, a playful smile on her lips.
He laughed and kept looking around, sort of in awe. There were family pictures scattered throughout the halls and on the coffee table. It’s just my dad. But there was a woman in some of the photos. A tall brunette with a heart-shaped face was in most of them when Y/N looked young. As Y/N aged through the photos he noticed that she was no longer there. The stoic man with greying hair, broad and stern, was in all of them with a protective gaze over Y/N’s shoulder.
What really confused him, however, was the other girl. A small one, definitely younger than Y/N. She had the same eyes and lips as her...sister? He couldn’t be sure but that’s absolutely what it looked like. Photos of them on beaches were everywhere. A sandy toddler’s hand being held by a young Y/N, waves high and rough in the background. If he had to guess there was maybe a five-year difference between the two.
The most recent looked...recent. He didn’t like that at all. It was the two of them on what looked like the same beach from when they were kids. The younger one zipped into a wetsuit, smiling at the camera while Y/N was behind her, resting her elbow on the shorter one’s head, wrapped in a knit coverup. There was only one small surfboard cast aside.
He could place some photos after that day by the young one’s noticeable absence. Like Y/N said- It’s just her and her father. He knew Medina mentioned that she was an only child and he knew almost no details, but he could piece together that something horrid had happened. His blood ran cold.
He snapped out of his reverie by her bounding down the stairs, meeting him by the front door. Acting casual, he tried to hide his new discovery. If she wasn’t ready to share he wouldn’t push her.
“So these are the ones that Chad gave me. He promised they’re pure but I don’t know if I trust him,” she opened an Altoids tin to reveal some pills and a dime bag of coke, her dwindling stash. He didn’t know why, but seeing her holding his poison of choice made his stomach drop, sadness washing over him. She placed some small blue tablets into one of the small plastic baggies, sealed the top and handed it to him.
“What did we take when,” she hesitated, obviously alluding to the night that they had become quite...acquainted. A nervous laugh escaped her. “I was rolling.” Her smile was small and he became aware of the fact that he wanted nothing more than to kiss her.
Jim faltered. “I, uh. I don’t know,” he admitted and started picking at his fingers.
“It’s cool. I can ask around.” She smiled, not aware of how he was embarrassed. He couldn’t untie the knot in his stomach when he saw her pick through her collection of pills, contemplated taking one, and then decided to save it for Skeezer’s birthday later that week. “It’s going to be insane. I don’t even think I’m ready for it,” she informed him.
Truth be told, he was ready for that rager. What he was more ready for was the inevitable group of people waiting for him on the top of a cliff, ready with booze and anything else he wanted. Just a little. You’re doing so good. It wouldn’t be much, just enough. He tried to tell himself but he knew what the next few evenings would consist of.
He’d been out so often lately he owed it to his mom to stay in.
The little blue pills Y/N had gifted him would absolutely help with Sandy’s nonsense and he was grateful. He knew the tightness in his gut would disappear the second he placed it on his tongue.
“I would invite you up, but you said you have plans” She stepped closer to him and he could feel her warmth. Plans. Yeah. Go fish, shitty reality TV, and bitching about his father. Those were the plans for the evening and probably the whole week. It would be his plans for his whole life if Sandy had her way.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled leaning into her. He pressed a light kiss to her lips. He kept it innocent and slow. He was going to do it right this time. This wasn’t how it was with Heather. This time it was real, he knew it in his bones. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.
“Dinner? Soon?”
“Anything you want.” He placed another kiss on her forehead and she smirked and he started on his way out of the door. His eyes shone under the night sky-her personal universe.
“Anything? Now that could be a lot of things, now couldn’t it?” She stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he made his way down the driveway to his car.
“I’ll give you this whole world. I promise.”
And she knew he was telling the truth.
--
The next few months passed in a blur of salt water and stars. Nothing was forced or unnatural. In fact, it was the most Jim had ever felt like himself. It was unexplainable, and he had tried to explain it to Medina but he just sounded like a moron. She had told him as much.
“It’s like...she’s just,” he blew out the cloud of smoke he had been holding in his lungs. The beach was quiet that morning with mushy grey waves lapping at the rocks. It felt like he and Medina were back in their treehouse-just the two of them where nothing could hurt the two of them. “It’s like we’re the same? You know?”
“So you’re dating yourself?” She rolled her eyes.
“No, it’s like-she kinda reminds me of you.” He looked to his twin and tried to tame his hair that was tangling in the wind.
“So you’re dating me? Jim, that’s even weirder.” She leaned over and flicked his ear.
Flinching, he responded, “No! No. God. It’s just like, you know how you and me are connected? It’s kinda like that. It just works.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know, I can’t explain it.”
“Yeah, you really can’t.” She slapped him on the shoulder and stood up to grab her board. “Let’s go, stupid.”
He raced her into the water, now determined to get the first good wave.
--
Sandy had been an issue, of course. When she found out he had a girlfriend, and had one for six months at that point, she just about lost it on him. He found himself curled on his side in her bedroom getting the lecture she always gave when she had the slightest suspicion he was seeing someone.
“You could get her pregnant! She could force you to marry her!” Her shrieks reverberated in the house.
“I’m not getting married, mom. I’m too young,” he mumbled, head half buried in the pillow. He didn’t tell her that he would gladly marry Y/N in an instant, no thought process required. Sometimes at night, when things were getting bad, his thoughts would drift to her in an ivory dress, barefoot on the beach, palm trees creating shadows over her face.
“Well then, there’s no point in seeing her. I forbid it.” With that, he sat up and turned to face his mother.
“I’m not going to stop seeing her, mom.” He shrugged and went to stand. She pushed him back to the mattress with a press of her hand onto his shoulder. He gently removed it and stood. It felt strange, looking down at her. Sometimes he forgot that he was taller than her, and had been for some time.
Sometimes he forgot he wasn’t a kid anymore.
Medina had been standing in the doorjamb, watching things unfold. Jim couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he pushed past her while she did her weird staring thing he always begged her to stop doing, for the sake of his friends.
“The fuck are you looking at,” he hissed at her. She was the reason that Sandy knew about Y/N. He wasn’t even sure of how Medina let it slip, but she did. He briefly thought that maybe she was jealous that her friend started dating her brother, but Medina didn’t get jealous. And Y/N still spent plenty of time with just Medina. She had no reason to tell Sandy, but a small part of Jim told him that she did it on purpose, just to spite him.
“Jim!” Sandy stormed out of her room, rattling the china in the cabinets. Jim was throwing some water bottles and granola bars into his backpack. “Jimmy, what are you doing? Where are you going?” she asked, breathless. She ran up to him, balling his tee shirt into her fists, clinging to him. “Stay,” she sobbed out.
Jim, very gently, Medina noticed, unraveled her fingers from his shirt and peeled her away from him. His face was drawn and he looked exhausted, eyes burning from lack of sleep. He still wore his stress on his face.
He slipped on his jacket and pulled on the sneakers that were next to the door. Sandy was now collapsed, full tears staining her face. “Jimmy, no, no, baby. I’m sorry, mommy’s sorry, baby.”
His heart ached but he kept his face still. He looked to his twin, still watching-not moving toward their mother. “I’ll be back soon,” he said directly to Medina, avoiding Sandy.
His heart thrummed in his chest as he walked to his car, making sure the usual beach blankets were in the back. He pulled out his phone and tapped her contact name: “Snake Queen” an inside joke from when Y/N would snake every single wave from the bay boys, just to prove herself.
She answered on the first ring. “Hey!” He let out a sigh, trying to slow his breathing.
“Hi, babygirl. Get some shoes on and bring a jacket. I’ll be by in five,” he rushed out, but he couldn’t tell why he was moving so fast. Nobody cared enough to come after him, anyway.
“What? I thought you were in with Sand- I thought you couldn’t go out tonight?”
“I’ll be by in five-better be ready or I’ll leave without you,” he threatened but they both knew that for her, he would wait forever and a day.
He tore down Palos Verdes West Drive and turned onto Laurel, already seeing her house in view. According to Google, it was supposed to take six minutes to get there but if he went fast he could get there in three. He had timed it.
The outside light was on, their signal that she was home alone, father gone to DC. He beeped the horn to the rhythm of the song on the radio until she crept out of the front door, already laughing. Just seeing her smile, he already knew it was all worth it.
She locked up and slid into the passenger seat. “Jim, it’s late, be quiet!”
He just looked at her, a goofy smile on his face. He stuck his tongue out. “I do what I want,” he mocked her higher pitched voice. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, loving his silly mood.
“So, what is this? Where are we going?” She looked around the car for any hints but there were none.
“Can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.” He smiled and started to pull away from the house, driving a little too fast. “I can tell you that we’ll get pizza on the way. But after that, surprise.” The car wove in and out of traffic, always making her a little nervous, but she supposed that was where the thrill came from.
Under his good mood, she could tell that something was off about Jim that night. He wasn’t high, she could tell that immediately, all too acquainted with her boyfriend’s second personality. He was talking a little too fast, driving too reckless, eyes a little manic. There were no drugs involved, but she could tell he was high off something else. If she had to wager it was that he wasn’t with his mother.
Something must have happened. She swallowed thickly but was more than happy to be happy with Jim. Seeing him smile was really the most beautiful thing, she thought. She looked at his profile as he sped down the street. His eyes were bright, the blue shining with every headlight that shone on them. The crinkles next to his eyes told her that the grin she fell in love with was authentic. He let out a genuine laugh and placed his right hand on her thigh, thumb stroking over the soft fabric of her leggings.
“What?” He looked at her, a little self-conscious.
“Nothing.” Her eyes widened. “Sometimes I just fall in love with you all over again.”
--
They had been driving for three and a half hours, taking the long way despite his fast speed. It being so late, she had pulled her legs onto the seat and started napping while he drove, unable to keep her eyes open any longer. He kept a hand on her knee anyway.
At some point, she had put on one of his sweatshirts that he usually kept in the back seat. She pulled the hood over her eyes, drawstrings tight and he couldn’t help but giggle at her-never forgetting how lucky he was.
Finally arriving, he pulled into the dirt site, cutting the lights. “Baby,” he whispered really not wanting to wake her up. “We’re here.” He ran a thumb over her lips, the only exposed part of her face. She started to stir and he gently pulled the hood off, revealing half mass eyes.
“Where are we?” She met his quiet volume.
“Come on.” He bounded out of the car and jogged around to open her door, blankets tucked under his arm.
She tentatively climbed out and looked around. “The woods?” she guessed, sounding incredibly confused.
“Joshua Tree,” Jim corrected, throwing blankets over the roof of the car. “Climb up.” He gestured to the now padded and warm surface.
She finally understood what was going on, and she was more than happy to oblige. “You just want me to go up first so you can get a view,” she murmured, perfectly content burying her face in his chest.
“You are absolutely right. Now up,” he gave her bottom a gentle pat followed by a firm squeeze. She grumbled but listened, using the open door to boost herself up. “Mmmm,” he hummed. “That is my favorite view. You know what those leggings do to me,” he laughed and followed her lead onto the roof.
He situated himself next to her, feeling her warmth. She pressed herself to him, still feeling the chill in the air. Her gasp surprised him when she rolled onto her back.
There was the entire galaxy above them. In stunning detail, no light pollution, she felt like she could feel the stars’ light shining on them.
“I know, right?” Jim sighed next to her and turned over to look at the display of the universe. He swore if he stayed still enough he could feel the earth’s rotation. They both lay, taking measured breaths, fingers intertwining. “It doesn’t look real.”
“But it is,” she whispered to him. She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the stars anymore. She took the hand that wasn’t holding his and raised it to the sky. “Cassiopeia, right?”
He noticed Gemini wasn’t visible, a set of clouds covering it.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her temple. He curled around her, the whole universe above them but his whole universe in his arms.
--
They still partied. It was how they met, afterall and something that they both enjoyed. Jim, for the ability it gave him to become someone else, even just for a little bit. He’d wash his mind out with liquor and refill it with a poison of the night. And he knew it was bad but he enjoyed Y/N’s company when he was like that because he knew she was feeling just the same way.
Slowly though, he noticed that he was going through his stash slower, more tablets piling up after his weekly pick up from Chad. Eventually he went to getting more every ten days, then two weeks. His mind became clearer in class, he was actually able to get a significant amount of work done on his thesis, and he started to enjoy the sun more. When he was in the waves balanced on his board he started to actually feel the sunlight rather than just seeing it, as if it were far away.
She never asked him to stop or slow down. Yes, she worried immensely but when Y/N saw that he was slowing down to her pace, that worry died down. Recreational use wasn’t all that bad, she reasoned with herself. Especially for someone coming back from true addiction, like Jim. He was doing good. And they were fine.
People around PV started noticing them always with each other. Partners in crime, Bonnie and Clyde. They’d walk around with their mischievous smirks, really just happy to be together, ready to laugh at any moment. The bay boys gave Jim shit, of course.
“The hot one, really, Jimmy? Leave something for the rest of us.”
“Medina’s friend? Come on.”
“Snake Queen? You’re just fucking her so she stops stealing your waves.”
But even the boys saw a change in Jim. He was lighter. Something about him seemed right. Less darkness behind his eyes, shoulders pressed down rather than bunched up, and always a smile after sealing a glance at Y/N during a set or at a bonfire.
It was at one of those bonfires he knew that he really was in it. The fire lit up her face, framing her from where she stood swaying to the shitty music Alex was playing on the guitar. She stole the beer out of his hand and took a small sip. In the other hand she laced his fingers to hers.
“Dance with me,” she said, hips still swaying. She looked completely in her element, nobody could tell if the confidence came from a few beers but that hardly mattered.
“No, no baby,” he laughed and shook his head, eyes suddenly fascinated with the sand between his toes.
“Pretend...that it’s the last night. That the world doesn’t exist.” She lifted his hand in hers and spun herself under his arm. He couldn’t care less what the boys though, but he knew they’d make fun of him the next day. He also knew he didn’t care.
He grabbed her hips and rocked to the music, holding her close. He rested his head on hers and pressed his lips to her soft hair. Looking out to the dark horizon he knew that it was going to hurt when it was all over. Because everything ended. But he also knew that there was no going back.
--
Deciding to get away for the day had been her idea and it wasn’t too far, but it wasn’t Palos Verdes and that’s all that mattered. Sure Manhattan beach was more crowded, less exclusive, but that was the point. To escape the judging eyes and oppressive cultures of both the bay boys and the tennis moms was a vacation in and of itself.
He had spent the night at hers, waking before dawn just to watch the moon’s light shadow over her face. Still dark, they packed up their boards and wetsuits in her Jeep and headed out.
Y/N had always loved this time of day, the dawn. Things were still except for her fluttering heart every time she looked at Jim. Jim, certainly not a morning person, felt exhilarated, escaping in a getaway car. For the whole day he wouldn’t have to be a ‘bay boy’ or his mother’s keeper. He could be Jim.
The crowd there was used to tourists, people who came and went, so the pair wasn’t questioned.
The sun rose and lit up the beach with it’s warm glow. Jim couldn’t help it-maybe he was romanticizing things, but he really didn’t care. He’d watched her all day like watching a movie-just taking in her small movements, fascinated by anything and everything she did.
Their boards were much too close for them to be properly waiting for any waves, but they were floating next to each other, intertwined fingers dipping into the water. He lifted them and kissed her palm. She leaned over meet his soft lips with hers and they just took each other in, every breath, every soft sigh until one of the other surfers told them to break it up or move somewhere where the swells sucked so they wouldn’t be hogging the good waves. They unwillingly parted, wanting to get just a few more sets in.
He did like watching her. From the start. But now she was his to watch.
Y/N cut through the water, impeccable balance, her hips shifting to accommodate the oncoming waves. He couldn’t help but appreciate her body in the skin tight, slick wetsuit. Could only be improved if she wasn’t wearing anything, or maybe just his denim jacket.
As fast as the sun rose and peaked, it started to set and the couple found themselves sprawled out on a blanket under the pier, the sand still warm under them.
“Stop it,” Y/N playfully chastised as Jim stole another piece of watermelon she was snacking on from the container.
“No,” he said simply and leaned over across the blanket to kiss her cheek. He looked out towards the water where the last of the surfers were coming in for the evening. “We could probably get one more set if…” he started but saw her sigh, a little conflicted. “But I’m exhausted, too.”
“I wish everyday could be like this,” she whispered longingly, knowing she was changing the topic but really unable to think of anything else. It was true, and her thoughts had kept returning to the fact that their day was perfect.
“Who says it can’t.” He looked to her, leaning back onto his elbows, long legs stretched in front of him. She mirrored him, sitting the same way while digging her toes into the sand. “One day, everyday will be like today,” he promised her.
He saw the tension in her face, her brows a little pulled. “Baby, what’s the matter?” he asked, a little nervous that he had taken it too far suggesting that they would share their days like this.
Maybe she wasn’t having the same ideas of a beach house and worn in surfboards and a dog and a few kids with another on the way….He had to cut himself off-knowing he was getting his hopes up for nothing. Who would ever want that with him. Nobody, his mind supplied.
Jim leaned over to her, propping himself up on one arm while the other went to rest on her thigh. She shook her head, trying to stop the negativity. Sometimes she couldn’t help it.
It was always on the best days she was reminded of her. And it wasn’t anyone’s fault-truly. It was just the idea that her sister would never have days like this. As good as this. She didn’t have any days, anymore.
By then, Jim knew what was happening. He saw the small changes in her. The pulling of her brows, the smallest frown gracing her lips. He always wanted to kiss it off-turn it into a smile.
It had only been a few years since Noel had died. Y/N mentioned to him once that it had been bone cancer, but he could tell that getting into specifics was too painful. It didn’t just ravage her sister’s body but it split her family- ruining everything they had tried to build. Their mother left shortly after Noel’s diagnosis, unable to cope. Her father became almost obsessive over Y/N’s safety and happiness until he, too decided to start distancing himself from her. Y/N had turned to pills and booze, granted in a much less spectacular fashion than Jim had. They had packed up and moved across the country to forget everything, just like everyone else in Palos Verdes, it seemed.
Jim didn’t know all the details and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. It confirmed his beliefs that every family has its own brand of fucked up, however. Y/N and Jim were the same, caught in the crosshairs of a familial dysfunction far too gone to repair. And she, like him, didn’t like to talk about it. But with him she didn’t have to, she knew he understood.
“I’m sorry,” she shook her head again, trying to clear it. “I shouldn’t be upset, I’m just-” She took a deep breath trying to steady herself. “I just wish she could be here, too. She’d love it here.”
Jim solemnly nodded, understanding but unable to process what it was like to lose a sibling. He couldn't imagine life without Medina.
“Don’t worry. You’re fine,” he mumbled, lips pressed to her cheek as he maneuvered himself closer to her, placing her in his lap.
She felt his toned arms circle around her and she was home.
“I’m sorry I get like this-I just have to spoil everything, don’t I?” She turned sideways, resting on his thighs.
“You have, in so circumstance...ever, spoiled anything. Ever,” he laughed trying to lighten the mood a little. “In fact, I think you make everything better.” Small tears started to leak from her eyes and he quickly leaned in to kiss them away, his lips brushing over her soft skin. “Baby, you always make everything better.”
He pulled away to look her in the eyes, her eyelashes still wet but the tears stopping.
Jim held her tighter, placing his lips on hers, moving slow-no need to rush. She was too pliant under his capable hands, turning to face him, thighs straddling him.
He hummed into her mouth and allowed his hands to slip lower, settling over her hips, while her wrapped around him, her fingers tangling in his hair.
Shifting their weight, Jim managed to lay her back onto the blanket, her hair fanning out around her. He thought it looked like a halo-so fitting for someone he considered an actual angel. Her legs, still wrapped around him, pulled him down onto her to tease. Not being shy of playing her game, he ground his hips into her, hard. Going by the gasp she let out, he knew she could feel him hardening.
“Jim, I don’t know about this…” She turned her head to the side to see if anyone was looking at them. A beautiful red flushed her skin and Jim smiled. He turned his attention to laying love bites across her collarbone.
They were in a relatively secluded area under the pier and because it was nearing dusk, it was quiet. Jim continued to travel southward with his little open mouthed kisses, now getting sloppy as he licked over her hip, just above her bikini bottoms. “I don’t see anyone around,” he mumbled, still fascinated by the smooth skin under his tongue. That and the little shifts and twitches he was able to draw from her. “And I just really want you, babygirl.”
He knew he had her.
He slipped her bikini to the side dip his tongue into her, desperate for a taste. He hummed and the vibrations made her tighten her hands in his soft hair. He looked up to her from between her thighs, blue eyes gleaming mischievously. He couldn’t help smile into her dripping core, nuzzling his nose against her clit as his tongue continued lapping at her not wanting to miss a drop.
But his cock straining against his board shorts was becoming an issue. He wanted to bury himself in her. Pulling away from her, her wetness on his lips, he traveled up her body and took lips in his own. “You taste that? You’re sweeter than honey,” he said against her lips, unable to separate himself from her body for even a second.
“Jim,” she sighed. “Please, I’m-”
Before she would say anymore he had slipped himself out of his shorts and pressed his cock against her warm cunt. Fucking tease.
“Please, please, please,” she whispered against his mouth.
“That’s what I like to hear.” As a reward Jim pressed into her-slow. He knew he was holding back but her reactions were priceless. The little moans and gasps, her fluttering eyelids, her arms pulling him closer because all she really wanted was him closer.
“God,” She managed to choke out when he bottomed out. He watched her head loll back, exposing her neck where he sucked a few light bruises. He was soft, but she was still his.
He moved slow, taking his time watching her come undone. “Babe, I need more,” she moaned. Jim shook his head and kept the slow pace he had set. “We’re doing this right, me and you. Slow.”
“Fuck,” she resigned as he continued to rock into her. Y/N tilted her head up to meet him in the softest kisses, him gently lapping into her mouth while she swallowed his moans that were starting to get louder. Briefly, she thought about them getting caught but as the sun went down there were even fewer people around.
She could feel Jim’s pace falter, start to get faster, more rhythmic, despite him wanting to keep a tap on things. Their kisses were sloppy, not even completely on each other’s mouths, just searching for skin.
He was getting a little rougher, hands going to her ass and squeezing all the while he continued fucking into her. She knew he was close, but holding back, savor the moment- she was too.
“Babe, I gotta-”
“Me too. Fuck,” he groaned, a little too loud.
To her displeasure, but surprise, he slowed down and pulled back. He took a full moment to take her in, her swollen lips, wet. Her hair was starting to curl from being in the water and fanning around her, her legs wrapped around him, open for him. He smirked when he saw the tanline his favorite bikini made on her smooth skin. She was practically glowing. And he really just couldn’t believe that she was his. All his.
“Jimmy,” she said to break him out of his reverie.
In two more gentle thrusts he found himself spilling into her, all of his body weight pressing them together. He watched her as she came around him while he was filling her. Her eyes rolled back a little as she threw her head back, her chest rising, back arching off the sandy blanket.
“I love you.” It wasn’t what he had planned to say. But seeing her so blissed out, clenching around him, pulling him in, chanting his name like a goddamn prayer, her cunt milking him for everything he’s worth--he said it. Not going back, now.
“I love you, too, Jimmy. God I love you.” She came down from her high, waves still rolling over her, as she nuzzled into his neck, placing kisses.
They ended the night by stargazing, deciding to move out from under the pier. Y/N fell asleep on his chest, wearing his jacket, breathing in his scent.
Jim loved the stars-loved to look at them. But he really couldn’t help but keep stealing glances at her.
Really cool people that actually enjoy my garbage: @ccodyfern @langdonsdemon @coloursunlimited @thecinderellaposts @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonalien @tarkofetis @stupidocupido @katiekitty261 @ovarydosed @lovelykhaleesiii @starwlkers @aveiangdon @heelsamizayn @sojournmichael @oneday-i-will-fight-luke17 @tickled-pinkmoodpoisoning @codysfallenangels
Special thanks to @thecinderellaposts @michael-langdon-appreciation @starwlkers and @ccodyfern for putting up with me <3
#jim mason#jim mason x reader#jim mason hc#the tribes of palos verdes#tribes of palos verdes#tribes of PV#tribes#topv vertigo#topv#cody fern#palos verdes#palosverdesestates#michael langdon#michael langdon x reader#michael langdon smut#jim mason smut#ahs#ahs coven#ahs apocalypse#medina mason#james mason#fanfic#fic#topv fic
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Vertigo: Ch 7: Ribs
Vertigo: Chapter 7
Ribs
This fic is in progress
Jim Mason x Reader
Warnings for this chapter: Drug use, physical violence
Summary: Jim watches all of his relationships start to strain. He doesn’t know if he wants to hold on or would rather a clean break. From everyone. From himself.
Notes: Sorry for taking forever! I pre-write and usually like to stay 4/5 chapters ahead of the ones I’m posting. However, I’m finding difficulty writing the last few chapters....alas, I’m posting despite being ‘behind’.
Other than that, I hope you enjoy and don’t hate me too much for making sad boy Jim even sadder.
Word Count: 5 K
How Jim was still managing to make it to class, Medina would never know how. He stopped waking her up in the morning, so she would sometimes arrive late to class. When she left in the morning, practically tripping over herself to make it to her damn biology class, his car was always gone. She drove herself and tried to convince herself that she liked the quiet in the morning. No bullshit indie alternative music Jim liked, no nervous tapping on the steering wheel, nobody stealing sips of her coffee...Maybe the positives were there if she looked hard enough.
It was a small enough campus that she would run into him frequently-either lounging in the student union or maybe sitting under a tree on the quad. He ignored her every time. Usually there was at least a wave, smile, sometimes they would have lunch together-Jim abandoning his friends to spend time with Medina. She stopped waving at him after the third time he flipped her off in the student union-the hatred plain on his face and set deep in his eyes.
They had practically stopped talking altogether and if they had to, it certainly wasn’t any pleasant conversation. Gone were the early morning talks on the cliffside. If he did come out to surf, a rare occurrence, he paddled as far from her as possible even if the good waves were closer to her. When she fell, the cold waves crashing over her relentlessly, stealing her breath away, he laughed.
He sad had never done that before.
Wherever he went he carried an almost visible tension. Shoulders drawn up, eyes starting to sink into the dark circles surrounding them, an air of anxiety. He was getting thin, starting to actually look weak. His arms would be crossed, knees tucked in if he was sitting, almost looking like he was trying to protect himself from the world.
Medina found him passed out on the couch, curled up in such a tight ball of limbs she had to double take to make sure he was there. It was a Sunday and she wanted pancakes. Mostly though, she wanted her brother back.
“Jim,” she whispered, trying to wake him gently.
He wasn’t asleep though, judging by his fast response. “What?” he said flatly.
“It’s Sunday and I’m making pancakes. Do you want banana or blueberry?” She had to resist untangling him herself-scared of what her touch might stir him into. He was on a nasty come down, she could tell by now.
He mumbled a, “I’m not hungry,” before managing to detangle somewhat and roll over to face the couch cushion.
She was trying, she really was. After the things she said to him at the wedding, Medina understood his hostility. However when she said them she was under the impression that he wouldn’t remember. But he did.
Sometimes though, Jim was the only person that could make her angry. The only person that could make her feel, really. So it wasn’t too much of a surprise that his small declination for breakfast set her off. He wasn’t the only one who had feelings, after all.
“You’re thin as a rake, Jim. How are you not hungry?” she asked. “You’re just being petty.” Huffing in frustration, she started walking towards the kitchen, still able to see him due to the floorplan of the house. “I’m making banana.” She knew it was his favorite.
“Jesus, Medina. Can’t you just leave me alone for one second?”
“I don’t have to leave you alone. You already left me alone. You leave me alone every time you stay here with mom. You leave me every time you go crying to Y/N. You leave me alone when you go get high. So no. I won’t be leaving you alone,” she deadpanned.
He scoffed. “You sound like mom. So afraid that I’ll leave you-it’s sad,” he sneered and stalked over toward the kitchen, not to be near Medina, but to make some coffee. Even caffeine has to help this come down...anything helps, right? He felt like willingly laying on death’s doorstep to make his headache stop.
“I sound like mom? You’re the one who is so obsessed with Y/N you’re starting to control her like mom does to you.” She kept looking for the sugar-damn Jim. She was going to make goddamn pancakes for Sunday.
“Don’t bring Y/N into this- She said you’re the one being an ass to her so don’t pull any more shit.”
“I’m not the one that brought her into this mess, you’re the one that did that, Jim,” she said, venom laced in her voice. “You’re bringing her down to your level and that’s what’s sad. I heard what happened at that party. She wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t-”
“Medina,” he warned, teeth clenching. He tipped his head back and took a deep breath from his nose. She saw him gripping the mug so tight she thought the ceramic would shatter.
She changed the subject. “Can’t you see they broke us apart, too? Mom and dad?”
“They didn’t break us up, you did that by siding with that fuck,” Jim went back to putting coffee in the grinder.
“You sided with mom,” she stated simply.
“I didn’t side with her. She pulled me in,” Jim almost whispered but his breathing picked up, trying to hold down the screams he wanted to lash at his sister.
“You did. And that’s okay. You guys aren’t all that different, after all.”
Jim’s mug flew to the floor near her feet but she didn’t flinch when it shattered. Without another word he headed toward his bedroom and slammed the door so loud Medina was sure Sandy was about to investigate what had happened.
“Now go cry to Y/N. We all know that’s all you do anyway,” she couldn’t help but add, shouting towards his closed door.
She didn’t know why she was saying these things. Maybe Jim was onto something when he talked about saying things that don’t feel like they come out of your mouth.
After that, she didn’t talk to her brother for quite some time. Even though she didn’t want to feel it, her heart broke a little more each time she saw him.
--
He had managed to drag her to another party. Y/N was still pretty shaken, given the last time she went to one of these regular gatherings with Jim’s friends things got...bad. But since she had promised herself to stop, she figured she would be fine.
Jim had disappeared a while ago, probably hanging with the guys. She felt her stomach tie in knots. For some reason, being away from him felt different when she was sober. Typically it allowed them individual freedom but it was not a comforting feeling not knowing where Jim was or who he was with or what he was taking.
She vaguely remembered asking him to slow down-something she promised that she would never do. The last thing she wanted to do was stifle him, that wasn’t a partner’s place, but she couldn't help but notice the glassy eyes, slurred speech, and all around strung out appearance he was sporting as of late. It wasn’t just at parties anymore.
He hadn’t told her about the wedding. On one hand, she felt betrayed. She couldn’t justify her own secrets, then. It had taken her months to open up about her sister.
She wasn’t upset. Y/N could see what the Masons were really like and it was darker than they were on the surface. But then again, wasn’t that everyone in PV?
It was scary-watching him uncoil. One minute doing okay, coming off something, a quick trip outside or to the bathroom or she’d leave the room for a moment, and after that, it was slow breaths and drooping eyelids. She had gotten attached to who he was and found herself hurting for the new Jim that took his place. She could think of two outcomes, only one of which was manageable-his potential sobriety. The other...well that’s why she was scared. Maybe because she had a nagging feeling that is was inevitable.
Curling up on the sofa, knees brought up, and sipping water probably wasn’t the best place to be. Y/N hadn’t taken anything, still too afraid to even have a beer, since that night. It had happened before, twice. Once at a music festival and once at club. Looking back she couldn’t believe her stupidity to go back to the shit she would take. She tried to shut up the voice inside that whispered that she’d be back on it sooner rather than later.
To distract herself, and maybe satisfy her worry, she decided to go find Jim. She meandered over to the backyard where people were sitting near the pool and lounging on the patio furniture. It was strange seeing everything so clear without the haze of booze or something a little stronger clouding her mind.
--
Something was running through his veins and it wasn’t blood nor the cocktail of pills and powders he had indulged in. He was seeing red.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jim shouted over at one of the guys-so far gone he couldn’t even remember his friend’s name.
“Jim, come on,” his friend-Josh? Yeah, maybe that was it- said, exasperated.
“No. That’s some bullshit. Take it back you fuck,” Jim growled and started walking closer to Josh.
“You really want to start shit tonight, don’t you? Fucking junkie--” His sentence was cut off by a swift uppercut, thrown by Jim. “Oh, you fuck.” Josh flew forward grabbing Jim by the back of his neck and throwing him to the ground. Blood from his now broken nose dripped onto the concrete below them.
Josh landed a few good punches. Some at Jim’s face, a few at his stomach and rib cage. Jim couldn't care less. In fact, he didn’t feel anything.
Using his leverage, Jim managed to flip Josh below him, swinging a few more times at his face which was turning quite the interesting shade of violet and scarlet. Jim felt blood start to seep into his eye, running down from his hairline. He stood and kicked Josh so hard in the gut the poor guy screamed.
If people weren’t looking earlier, they absolutely were then. Nobody intervened. Nobody moved. And Jim kept kicking.
“Jim! Jim! Jim, God-stop. What are you doing?” Y/N was pulling back on his shoulders, trying to take off Josh. “Jim! Stop it!”
He felt her on his shoulders, pulling with all her strength but it wasn’t enough to match his, even with his weakening body. Eventually, he let himself be pulled off. Only for Y/N. She spun him around to face her and he immediately felt stupid, blood trickling down his face and into his eyes, bruises blooming over his left eye.
It took him a minute to realize that she was speaking to him, or others? He didn’t know. He could see her mouth moving, god he wanted to kiss her, but her eyes-something was off. Maybe Medina was right. She was done. Tired of him and his mess.
She was looking at Josh, still saying stuff-probably to the people who had to carry him off. Why? He looked down at his bloodied and bruised knuckles and he was reminded. Oh.
Oh, oh. That’s why, he was fighting. He turned around to land a few more punches but saw that Josh was already gone. His world started tilting and thinking was too hard. Maybe he had taken too much. No. Nothing a line of coke can’t sober up. He thought about going to get some when he was snapped back into realtime.
“Y/N, hey baby,” he smiled dreamily and could taste the copper tang on his tongue. He thought that maybe he shouldn’t kiss her then.
“Jim, what the fuck was that?” She looked horrified and leaned away from him, her subconscious speaking volumes.
“You should’ve heard some of the shit he was saying-it’s not fucking okay. About you and Medina-fucking bullshit,” he spat. “Fuck him, you know where is the fuck? I’m not done.”
Before he could turn to find his target a slap cracked against his face, registering in his drug-addled brain. The shriek came after it was worse.
“Stop it!” he heard Y/N yell but it took him a moment longer to realize that it was directed at him. He looked down to her small wrist clasped in his larger hand, long fingers wrapped all the way around, digging into the delicate skin. He immediately released his grasp, horror pooling in his stomach, his chest tightening. Jim knew there was no coming back from this.
It was a reflex-he didn’t mean it. That didn’t make it any better. He had gripped and pulled hard. About as hard as he wanted to do to Josh.
She turned away from him, clutching her wrist to her chest, checking to see if she could still move it.
The onlookers started to disperse, feeling the tension radiate from the couple.
“Y/N, I’m so sor-” he started but he knew it wouldn’t be enough for what had happened. He had laid hands on her. It was only a moment that he had lost control, just a second. A second too long.
“I’m leaving,” she stated, still looking away from him. He looked down at his bloodied hands, mouth agape, still trying to process what had just happened. “And you aren’t driving like this.”
She started walking around front, toward her Jeep. He knew she was completely sober and somehow that made it worse. Or maybe it was bad enough that he secretly wished that she was drunk or high or something so the memory of what had happened could be blocked out.
He followed her, walking slowly and methodologically. “Baby, I didn’t mean-I didn’t realize that it was you,” he trailed off, still following her like a lost dog.
“I know,” she mumbled while climbing into the driver's seat. She wouldn’t look at him and he felt ill. He took his place in the passenger seat, hands folded in his lap, eyes downcast. He couldn’t bear to look at her. His mind was almost blank, empty-too strung out to even form a proper apology. It took him a minute to realize that he was actually sobbing, knees pulled into his chest.
She kept her eyes forward, face emotionless. His light eyes wandered to her wrist where purple blooms of bruising started to shadow. Y/N kept looking forward into the night, the occasional headlight or streetlight illuminating her stoic face. Every time that happened Jim would get a fresh wave of tears, seeing the last person who ever loved him giving up on him.
“You’re scaring me.” Her eyes are still on the road and he couldn’t take his eyes off her wrist seeming to darken with every second. The outline of his fingers was starting to become visible.
“I’m so sorry-” he choked out. He had been repeating it on a loop for the entire drive back to his house but she was fairly sure he was too far gone to realize that.
“Stop saying you’re sorry.” She finally looked at him. “Stop it, Jim,” she bit out and he felt himself flinch into the leather seat. “I’m...fine. I know it was an accident,” she said a little soft but controlled.
“That doesn’t make it okay,” he whispered, still looking at her wrist hypnotized by the swirling purple. He swallowed the bile rising.
“That doesn't make it okay,” she echoed. He started his crying again, this time starting to slouch over into her lap. Instinctually, she placed her hand on his cheekbone, trying to thumb off some of the drying blood.
“You scare me, Jimmy,” her voice cracked and silent tears started falling. Upon hearing her upset, Jim positioned himself, head still in her lap, to look at her. She was looking down, meeting his eyes. She couldn't help but notice the red swollen lids, maybe from crying but probably from smoking earlier. The usual purple circles that framed her favorite ice blue eyes were deeper, almost red.
“I don’t want to scare you- I didn’t mean to-” he looked up, his tears falling back into his hairline.
“I know,” she mumbled against his lips, bent down for a kiss. “You have to get inside,” she still whispered against him.
He started dry sobbing, no more tears. “Please-Ple-Please don’t leave me-I can’t-I pleas-I love you-I can’t do this without you,” he panted, struggling to take in enough air.
“I’m not leaving you, you just need to sleep this off,” she pulled back and started to gently lift his head out of the cradle of her lap. “Jimmy, you just need to sleep, okay?” She nodded, hoping he’d understand.
He did and slowly nodded a reply. He reached for her hand and she gave it to him without thought. It was the bruised one. She could feel the blood pulsing just under her skin, sore to the touch. His fingers didn’t hurt though, the way they ghosted over the blooming purple. The perfect mix of revanace, apology, and horror.
“Please stay.” He still looked at her wrist, gently caressing the sore spot.
“I can’t. Your mom,” she trailed off and eyed the front door, already suspicious that Sandy hadn’t chased her away. Despite all her time with Jim, she had never met Sandy.
“I need you,” his voice cracked. “I need you to hold me. Please,” he begged. The way Jim looked at Y/N had her feel like her heart physically broke.
She could never tell him no. “Okay, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up.” She nodded and tried to smile through her tears. Jim let out a sigh of relief allowed her a moment to cut the engine and get herself out of the car. She came around his side and helped him out, his knees more and more wobbly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again, knowing that this should not be something she has to do. But he knew that from the start-that she was too good for him.
When in the house, they’re both silent for fear of Sandy finding them. Y/N planned to leave before dawn so she wouldn’t see his mother.
She managed Jim onto the side of his bed, sitting a little crookedly while she cleaned off the dried blood with a cool hand towel. She mumbled stories of when she was back home, what it was like there-anything to fill the deep silence.
“And we get these hurricanes, up from the Caribbean, you know?” Jim nodded sleepily while she was inspecting him for further injuries. “The waves are crazy. You would love them. So would Med-” she cut herself off, not wanting to start something. She knew something had happened between them since the wedding. Jim avoided it at every opportunity. Honestly, she didn’t know where she stood with Medina either.
Jim was too exhausted to even comprehend what she was saying, but he liked the slow humming of her words. It reminded him that just maybe he wasn’t completely alone. Yet, his mind supplied.
“Jim,” she whispered, running a hand over his back. “Lay down. Let’s sleep.” She had changed them both into a pair of his sweatpants and tee shirts. He listened and easily found himself being turned horizontal, his head still very much foggy.
Y/N lay next to him, feeling him curl around her, his lips pressed to the top of her head. She, herself, had started feeling tired, her eyes struggling to stay open. In her favorite place, beside Jim, she felt like maybe everything would be okay.
“I’m scared,” Jim whispered but she wasn’t sure if it was for her to hear.
--
She woke to a screaming pain shooting from her head. Jim woke from the shouting and commotion, interrupting his blissfully dreamless sleep.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Sandy had a fist knotted in Y/N’s hair pulling her off the bed by her roots. Y/N’s hands flew to Sandy’s, trying to get them out, while she unsuccessfully tried to suppress a yelp. “You come in my house. You sleep with my son, you fucking-”
“Mom?” Jim was evidently still exhausted, adrenaline hindered, and probably still buzzed.
“You think you can just come in here-Jim! You brought this slut here?” Sandy was screaming, paranoia radiating from her.
“”I’m not, I’m so sorry Mrs. Mason. Jim was just-” Sandy pulled harder cutting off Y/N’s explanation with another yelp of pain. Y/N’s hand still futility tried to untangle Sandy’s hands from her hair, being forced to move with Sandy’s erratic movements. She was completely pulled off the bed, sprawled out on the floor in front of Sandy, hovering over her, still shrieking. She was almost positive chucks of her hair would be missing but the pain wasn’t all that noticeable because of the adrenaline.
Jim was sat in his bed, looking at the pair with wide eyes-clearer than Y/N would have thought possible. He started biting on the cuticle of his thumb, looking at a loss for words.
“Jim? Is this her?” Sandy asked and shook Y/N’s, fist still gripped tight.
“She’s my…..um. Yeah,” Jim was whispering, a sharp contrast to Sandy’s screams.
“So you’re the one that’s doing this to him?” Sandy directed her attention to the girl still awkwardly kneeling in front of her. “You’re the reason he’s in so much pain?”
Y/N was speechless, now really starting to feel the pain shoot through her spine.
“You’re the one that’s been hurting my boy. You,” Sandy finally let go of her hair and Y/N let out a gasp at being dropped. “Get the fuck out of my house.” She pushed Y/N causing her to trip over herself, still in Jim’s sweats.
“I don’t kn-” Y/N was searching for any words, struggling to even think properly. She looked to Jim, now standing at the end of his bed, looking between his mother and Y/N.
He froze. He always did. What do I say what do I do I don’t know This isn’t happening it can’t be happening No, no-She’s looking at me, what do I do but mom’s looking too I don’t know.
Sandy shouted something and was waiting for a response from him by the looks of it but he had missed the questions, too in his own head-thoughts racing so fast that it was blank.
“Mom…”he hesitated, trying to formulate a sentence.
“No, you know what-nevermind,” Sandy said, looking at Y/N.
Jim looked to her as well, eyes completely unreadable. His expression was tense, jaw locked, brows knit, but his hands started to rub against the hem of his shirt, a subtle attempt to keep grounded.
She was still shell shocked, no tears, just an open mouth and wide eyes, looking at him. He should do something, say something. It was his curse, really, his indecisive nature.
“Go!” Sandy pushed Y/N again, this time into the hallway and then the living room, towards the front door. Y/N kept looking over her shoulder at Jim, almost ignoring Sandy at this point. Jim followed them out into the foyer, still silent, eyes watching, silently pleading something from Y/N but she couldn’t discern what he wanted.
Y/N saw Jim’s breathing pick up, his face pale. He was looking for something, anything really-a distraction a way to diffuse this. But he knew with Sandy that there is no such thing as a peaceful resolution to a conflict. She would win, one way or another.
“Mom…” Jim tried again, finding that was the only word he could say. He wished it was her name instead.
“It’s okay, Jim. I’m taking care of this-go back to bed.” She opened the door and Y/N obediently walked towards it, now avoiding all eye contact with Jim, reality sinking in. He wasn’t defending her. And she didn’t know if it was because of the drugs, or something she did, or if he even loved her. Sandy’s hold on him was too strong. Even Medina couldn’t separate them. Sandy had won and Y/N learned that Sandy would always win.
With one final huff and a shove, Y/N was pushed out and stumbled down the concrete steps, landing on her battered wrist. A choked out scream ripped from her throat no matter how hard she tried to hold it in. She was still only in Jim’s sweatpants and tee shirt. No shoes or jacket to protect her from the chill that littered the coastal air.
She looked back to see Jim standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the light, just staring at her with an impossible expression of confusion, pain, and emptiness. Sandy was in the forefront, however-where she would always be. A sick smile painted her lips and the door slammed, Y/N still feeling the cold pavement under her. She didn’t move for some time. Long enough to hear Jim snap out of it.
“You can’t do that! Mom!”
“I can do what I want and I know you don’t really love her, Jim.”
“It’s freezing, she doesn’t even have shoes on, Jesus.” She heard him grabbing his keys off the rack near the front door, saw his silhouette through the glass of him bending to put on his sneakers, always near the door for a quick getaway. “It’s the middle of the night, she can’t walk home by herself,” he sighed, exasperated but still holding down the extent of his feelings. He could just drown them in some more pills later, he thought offhandedly.
Sandy’s incomprehensible shouting ws ringing in his ears when he opened the door but Y/N wasn’t there. He stepped into the cold, looking for her in the dark.
“Y/N! Babe, I’m sorry!” he started shouting and walked out further towards his car, he’d drive to look for her. Maybe she’d get in and they could just go. Anywhere. He didn’t care.
Sandy’s fingers wound around his bicep as he still tried to crane his neck, looking for her. His mother pulled him back towards the house, a sick game of tug of war.
“Jimmy, if you leave for her, it’s over. It’s her or me. And you know I can’t make it without you. I’d just kill myself.” He knew it was a lie. Sandy was much too self centered for that. He looked at his mother’s face, the crocodile tears starting to form. “Hunny.” She stroked his hair and tried to guide him back into the relative safety of their house.
Stuck in her orbit, he followed her with little more than an empty threat and a hand on his back.
--
Y/N ran. When she heard Jim starting to come after her, which she wasn’t even sure she wanted anymore, she ran.
He didn’t say anything to her, just watched. Sandy had won. Sandy would always win.
She knew he wanted to do something, and for that she shouldn’t be upset, but with the cold whipping through her hair and chilling the tears that started to leak from her eyes, she couldn't help but be furious. If he was stronger-no. She would never want to change him. If he wasn’t around her. If he had been raised by someone who genuinely loved him, not manipulated him into the idea of love, maybe he would be stronger-be less afraid. Because the fear in his eyes when he looked to Sandy was undeniable to the point Y/N couldn’t understand how Sandy didn’t see it.
Maybe it was Y/N. Was she doing this to him, too? The lines started to blur. She couldn’t place why but her stomach tightened whenever she let herself think that she was somehow responsible for his issue. Maybe she should stop him from buying, talk to all the dealers in the area? But that wasn’t her. She shouldn't, couldn’t, be the one to make him do anything. He had to do it on his own. And for that to happen, he had to get away from Sandy.
In the back of her mind she couldn’t help but understand his mother. The crushing need to have him. She felt it-the jealousy. Not just from other girls, but even from Medina and Sandy herself. It was different though, she tried to reason. She wanted him safe, and even if he was high as a kite, if she was there to make sure he was okay, he would be safe. She just wanted him safe. Then they could work on happy. It wasn’t for selfish reasons. She swallowed bile when she realized that Sandy probably thought the same thing about him.
Her mind was reeling as she kept running. The freezing pavement turned into impossibly colder sand, freezing her toes, the cold air burning her lungs, clouds of mist escaping her mouth with every ragged breath. She made it to the water. He was always thinking about water. Without thinking, she ran into it, the waves spilling onto her feeling like knives. One knocked her over and she was fully saturated, Jim’s oversized clothes hanging off her, as she continued to sob, struggling to stand.
She let out a scream so loud it was impossible for him not to have heard.
Sad Boi Jim gang: @thecinderellaposts @i-will-die-for-jim-mason @ccodyfern @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonsdemon @langdonalien @tarkofetis @stupidocupido @katiekitty261 @ovarrydosed @lovelykhaleesiii @starwlkers @aveiangdon @heelsamizayn @sojournx @oneday-i-will-fight-luke17 @tickled-pinkmoodpoisoning @americanhorrorstudies @antichristwrites @wroteclassicaly @codysfallenangels @sojournmichael @langdonsrapture @langdonsinferno @sammythankyou @1-800-bitchcraft @babypinkstyles94 @nana15774 @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul @coloursunlimited
Special thanks to @i-will-die-for-jim-mason @michael-langdon-appreciation @babypinkstyles94 @starwlkers @ccodyfern for letting me scream about Jim Mason at any hour of the day. <3
#jim mason#jim mason x reader#the tribes of palos verdes#tribes of palos verdes#jim mason hc#tribes of PV#tribes#topv vertigo#topv#cody fern#palos verdes#michael langdon#michael langdon x reader#michael langdon smut#jim mason smut#medina mason#topv fiv#ahs fanfiction#the tribes of palos verdes fanfic
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Vertigo: Chapter 3: Alone Together
Vertigo: Chapter 3
Alone Together
This fic is in progress.
Jim Mason x Reader
Warnings for this chapter: Graphic descriptions of drug use, nsfw content
Summary: Y/N tried to adjust to life in PV and falls into a certain crowd and bad habits. Jim’s looking for something new to take his mind off things at home.
Notes: I’m not super pleased with the smut, but it is what it is. I’m intentionally leaving Y/N’s character pretty ambiguous as this is Jim’s story. She’s kinda just the catalyst for events later. Thank you for the positive responses, I love all of you!
(Editing is a bit sloppy-I’ve had a crazy few days but wanted to get this out for you all. Forgive mistakes, please.)
Also, finally moving into longer chapters!
Word Count: 4.7K
The party was hot, sticky. Walking into the house was not dissimilar to walking into a sauna. Writhing bodies were moving in the living room, the coffee table pushed out of the way while some preferred to sit on the couch pulling cigarettes out of their packs, faces outlined by lighters. Y/N didn’t necessarily want to come, but it was almost to blend in, get closer to Chad for reasons she'd rather not disclose to those who weren’t close to her.
Back home, she still considered it home, these parties had been a regular occurrence, except she knew almost everyone there. She was what some would call the life of the party. Here, she was still going through growing pains of transplanting across the country.
Walking into the mess of people, she headed straight to the kitchen-inevitably where the liquor would be-her first poison of the evening. Yeah, she had pregamed, a few shots here, a beer there. But she wasn’t feeling anything more than a slight buzz, a lightness in her field of vision, deepened breaths. She knew it was going to take quite a bit more to get to the level she wanted to be at.
She poured out a generous serving of tequila into one of the red Solo cups that had been conveniently placed. A few ice cubes topped her drink and she downed about half of it in one large sip. Surveying the room, she saw a few familiar faces. Some Bay Boys gave her a friendly nod of recognition while some of the girls gave withering glances. Self consciously she glanced down at her jean shorts and crop top ensemble, perhaps a bit underdressed. She rolled her eyes. Bitches. She had better things to do.
The music, some obscure trap stuff, blasted from the speakers around the house. It was strangely comforting, the fact that 3,000 miles away parties were all still the same.
“Bryan!” she shouted over the music and one of the Bay Boys turned to face her, away from the small group that had congregated around her. “What’s good?” she felt the liquor move her closer to the group, moving her against her own accord, moving her into the direction of people she knew would only hurt her in the long run.
“Oh, nothing. You know how it is.” He rolled his deep-set eyes and she arbitrarily thought that she had never seen him with his hair dry.
“I feel that,” she laughed along at the nonsense that one of the girls nearby had said, but entirely missed the comment. “You have what we talked about, right?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah,” he pulled a baggie out of his pocket, a few joints pre-rolled.
“Thanks, you know how it is-moving.” He didn’t but went along with it.
“No worries. Chad has the other shit-he’ll be around later,” Bryan smiled. He really wasn’t too bad, she thought. Or maybe it was the fact that he was getting her a new plug this far from home.
“Awesome. I’ll see you around,” she went to take her leave, the baggie firmly in her grasp.
“Totally. No more snaking waves, okay? A peace offering,” he gestured to her hand that held the joints.
“No promises!” she called over her shoulder, already heading upstairs.
All of the houses in Palos Verdes had the same layout so she felt as if she already knew where she was going. She dodged a few couples perched on the carpeted steps, leading to the second floor. She downed the rest of the tequila in her cup and ditched it in a stack that was forming on the top step. One of the joints already found its way to her lips as she searched out for an exit to the rooftop.
She waded into the bathroom, a girl sprawled out in front of the toilet, puking her guts out. Trying to be discrete, Y/N tiptoed around her, and the latch on the window was easy to undo. Finally gasping in the fresh air, she made her way onto the red-tiled roof. Her trusty Bic was in her pocket and she fished it out to light up. Yeah, it wasn’t much, but another thing to take her one step further from reality was worth its weight in gold. She sighed out the smoke from her lungs, her head already cloudy.
Without thinking, she leaned back, laying against the tile that dug uncomfortably into her back. Continuing to take regular pulls, reveling in the quietness, she started looking to the stars. It wasn’t something she did often, but she tried naming some of the constellations, recalling the map that once hung in her childhood room.
“Nah, that one is Orion.”
She nearly screamed, her bloodshot eyes widened at her newly acquired companion. He looked familiar, again probably only able to recognize him with wet hair and a surfboard tucked under one arm. To calm herself she automatically took another hit. “God,” she laughed out, recognizing her own paranoia. “You can’t just do that to people sitting on a roof. Could’ve fallen” She nodded to the perfectly manicured lawn below them.
“Oh, sorry,” he seemed to drift off, not unlike herself at the moment she supposed. “But, yeah. That one is Orion. And that one is Sirius.” He nodded to the night sky too generally for her to discern which grouping of stars he was referring to.
“Cool.” She started to lean back again but propped herself up on her elbows. There was a comfortable pause. “When did you get here?” she asked for her own curiosity.
“Like five minutes ago,” he laughed. “You kinda suck at astronomy.”
She laughed even though it really wasn’t funny, but her fingers were tingling and her head was hazy, so everything was okay. She nodded, perhaps a bit too exaggeratedly, to agree with...what was his name?
“Jim,” he shared simply. Oh, she didn’t know she asked that out loud. “You’re Y/N, right? I've seen you down at Lunada.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “That’s me.” She turned to look at her companion for the first time, realizing that maybe it was a bit rude to not have made eye contact yet. But it didn’t seem like he minded. He had a denim jacket wrapped around his shoulders and he was sprawled out a little too comfortable for the height they were perched at.
“You got a light?” he gestured with the unlit blunt between his long fingers.
“Yeah,” she fumbled around in her shorts but decided that the pocket was a bit much to handle right then. He noticed and let out a small laugh.
“We can just share instead,” he suggested and she handed over the joint she had been pulling from, scooting closer to him. He held it to his lips and she couldn’t help but feel a small chill go through her.
Yeah, she recognized him now. Medina’s brother-the hot one, her mind supplied. Really the only one that hadn't directly called her out for snaking, or surfing there, or being a girl, or existing in the same space as the bay boys. She nodded, mostly to herself, but Jim was saying something she didn’t catch.
“Why are you on my roof?” she asked, cutting him off.
“Your roof?”
“Oh, I mean, you know what I mean.” She gestured to the area around them, “ ‘s a weird place to be.”
“Hiding from my girlf-” he cut himself off. “From this- girl.” Even he didn’t know the right words for what he was with Heather. She absolutely thought them more serious than they were and Jim just didn’t want to have that conversation quite yet. So yeah, he was hiding. The layout of all the houses in Palos Verdes was the same, after all. He knew right where to go if he didn’t want to be found. He did it enough at home, he was practically an expert.
“Ohhh,” Y/N nodded in understanding. “She’s looking for you?”
“Yeah,” he waved his phone and Heather’s contact info was lit up, calling him. He declined the call. “I don’t even like her that much.”
“Ouch,” Y/N bit out. “Remind me not to get...involved with you.” It was his turn to bite out a laugh and pass back the joint that was quickly burning out. At that, she realized how close they were sitting. She swallowed on a dry throat and felt the heat radiating from him.
“I promise I’m not mean. She’s just,” he hesitated to look for the right words. “A. Lot.”
“I can see that,” she murmured and he declined yet another call from Heather. What she believed to be a moment of clarity stuck her. “Jim?”
“Yeah?” his head lolled to look at her fully, his hair flipping to cover one eye.
“Why does everyone here hate me?”
“Nobody hates you, Y/N. They’re intimidated because you’re honest. It’s not a common trait in PV,” he shifted even closer to her. “And I certainly don’t hate you.”
“This is the first conversation we’ve ever had. How do you know?” she shot back, ice leaking into her voice.
“I watch you. I watch you when you talk and when you surf, and when you laugh with Medina.” He looked at Y/N dead in the eyes, a little self conscious at what just slipped past his lips. “I don’t hate you. I just know it, that I don’t hate you and I wouldn’t hate you.” He leaned all the way back to lay down. She followed suit but kept her head turned to him. “See? You’re so nice. You’re sharing.” He looked to the joint she still held and Y/N let out a small giggle.
She took another hit and leaned close to him, the mix of alcohol and marijuana dulling her better senses. “Sharing,” she whispered without exhaling, keeping the smoke in her lungs for an extra second while Jim lined his lips to hers. The smoke left her mouth in light curls, which Jim easily inhaled, shotgunning anything she had to offer.
“Sharing,” he mumbled and took what was most likely the last hit off the joint, returning the favor. She leaned in and could taste the beer and weed coming off his breath. On instinct, her hand threaded itself into his disheveled hair. It was impossible to tell who closed the gap, but their lips met in the center. They both remained laying on their sides but Y/N wiggled closer to him, still. He pushed a leg between her thighs and she sighed into his mouth. His tongue glossed over her bottom lip, silently asking permission which she gladly granted.
She gently licked into him, placing the most gentle kisses along his jawline, cheekbones, and brushed their noses together. His hands found themselves on her hips, pressing her into him and he found himself unable to stop a small moan from escaping his lips, the high making everything all that more sensitive.
He noticed her pull away before he noticed the incessant phone ringing that came after, breaking the fog that had fallen over them. However, it wasn’t his this time, but hers. He looked to her with hooded eyelids and admired the way the light of her phone highlighted her cheekbones, her brow bone, the curve of her nose. Her eyes closed in resignation and she gave her head a gentle shake. “I have to go really fast, just some stuff I have to deal with,” she placed her hand on his cheek and he leaned into the touch without realizing it. “This probably isn’t the ideal location for this anyway,” she laughed lightly and looked around, surveying the bumpy tile and their precarious position.
As much as he liked the way her body curved into his, her warmth, he knew she was right. His tipsy mind disagreed insistently, however. “Jim,” she tapped his face and he realized that at some point he must have closed his eyes. “Come inside, I don’t like you being out here on your own.” She once again eyed the drop. He nodded blearily and took her lead climbing back through the bathroom window.
--
Some time passed and he couldn’t say where she had gone, or really where he had been. All he knew then was that he was on the kitchen floor with a bottle of cheap vodka in his hand and some of the other guys around him.
He vaguely remembered Medina asking him to come home, but he managed to evade her persuasion. In the back of his mind, he hoped she got home safe. Jim supposed that Heather must have left at some point, as well. And she wasn’t calling anymore, so that was a relief.
Despite the bottle in his hand, which he had clearly drank from going by the burning in the back of his throat, he was just at a pleasant buzz. The room swirled comfortably, mumbles from other people’s conversations, the thrumming beat of the music all acted as a backdrop to his floating thoughts.
Like being plunged into ice water, he remembered the small bag in his pocket. He’d used his remaining coke in the past few weeks but he’d remembered to top up on some mdma and xanax. He hated himself for how fast he stood, the room almost coming down around him, but one of the guys caught his shoulders to steady him. They shouted something unintelligible and ruffled Jim’s hair as he started picking his way through the crowd to find a slightly more secluded area.
He travelled upstairs, similar to how he had earlier but opted for a bedroom instead. He wasn’t sure if he’d manage to stay on the roof this time.
The room was small but packed with bodies, most of them sitting and smoking-probably trying to hotbox the place if their shouts at him for opening the door were anything to go by. It was an absolutely pleasant surprise to see Y/N sitting in the far corner of the room. Granted, she was surrounded by some of the other bay boys and some of the teenagers from around town. Maybe some were trying to welcome the new girl, but he was sure that most of the guys had other intentions.
He slowly made his way over there, not because of her, probably.
“Y/N, hey,” he called to her when he was close enough.
“Jim!” she smiled but he knew it was just the liquor. “Come, sit.” She tried to move over, but there was hardly any room. He saw her inch closer to Alex and his hand travel up her thigh. He almost retched.
To his surprise, she pushed Alex’s hand off nonchalantly and Jim continued to wade into the cluster, various friends giving shouts or hollers to his presence. He managed to sit across from her, his back leaning onto the boxspring of the bed.
“Did you do your...whatever it was?” he managed to ask.
“Oh, yeah. All taken care of. I’m free for anything now.” She grinned and he could feel his cheeks redden. “Are you still hiding?”
He hesitated before answering with a nod. “You shouldn’t have to hide.” She shrugged.
They managed inebriated small talk about his friends, the waves, and local gossip before Jim remembered the whole reason he came upstairs. The others had mostly dispersed and it was just the pair in the corner, sitting facing each other.
He fished the clear bag out of his front pocket and eyes the small yellow pills sitting within. He took one between his fingers and placed it in the back of his throat before washing it down with a sip of beer that he didn’t notice he was holding.
“Heyyy,” she eyed him skeptically. He immediately felt like a moron. Not only did he probably fuck up any chance he had with her but now she was going to think him a crack head or some shit. He started to attempt to explain himself but was interrupted with a small “Share?”
Relief washed over him and he managed a laugh, his blue eyes rolling. “Really?” he looked at her uncertain.
“Really. Be nice,” she said softly and crawled towards him on all fours. Jim felt himself harden under her gaze. He willed the tightness in his jeans away when she came even closer, kneeling in front of him, knees splayed open. Presenting a pill in his palm, he continued to eye her.
The pill sat in the center of his palm, offered to her but instead of taking it in her thin fingers, she grabbed his wrist. She leaned to bush her nose against his inner wrist and his spine tingled. “Y/N,” he managed to choke out. Humming, she licked a small stripe across where the pill was. He caught her gaze, heavy and dark, the small pill stuck to the tip of her tongue.
She quickly swallowed and moved impossibly closer to Jim, depositing herself on his lap, straddling him. “Thanks,” her voice husky and she ground her hips down into him. He let out a strangled moan and grabbed the back of her head, guiding her mouth to his. All teeth, they were desperate for each other, unable to coordinate their movements while the party still swirled on behind them.
--
Before Jim could really comprehend anything, he found himself in the back seat of his car, sprawled out. He couldn’t quite remember the walk there, but he didn’t mind. Jim was rolling and judging by the size of Y/N’s pupils and hurried movements, Jim would wager she was, too.
Immediately after the door was slammed shut, she was nuzzling him through his jeans, mouthing at his covered cock. He undid his pants and shimmied them down so he was just in his boxers. His hands found themselves tangled in her long hair, pressing her into him, desperate for any friction. Her open mouth wetting the thin cotton and making him even harder than before. She was letting out the smallest signs, the vibrations sending shivers up his spine, the pills they had taken making everything all the more sensitive.
“You really want me, don’t you?” he mumbled as she started to pull his boxers down, releasing his thick cock, already leaking with precum. In response she paused, and locked eyes with him before licking a thick stipe from his balls to his tip.
“Yeah,” she sighed, letting her lips ghost over his tip. She gave the weeping tip a small kitten lick, just to tease Jim who was practically already falling apart in the palms of her hands. “Just not as bad as you want me.” With that, she swallowed him completely and Jim keened into the sensation.
“Jesus,” he whispered, trying to keep it together as she slid her hot mouth over him. She was messy, hot, and everything he needed to distract himself. His hips started gently thrusting into her warm mouth when she popped off and let an obscene trail of saliva connect her swollen bottom lip to his aching cock. She rested her head on his thigh, leaving small kisses on the it.
She managed to slide out of her shorts in the awkward position between the front and back seats and slid her own finger to tease her slit while going back to work on Jim, feeling his weighted cock on her tongue, his tip brushing the back of her throat. She could feel herself getting wet, embarrassingly so. He was the hot one and from watching how he moved in his slicked wetsuit, she felt like she already knew his body.
A contented hum escaped her when she slid her slender finger into herself. Jim pulled her off and looked at her, open mouthed, between his legs, with her own finger in her cunt. He leaned over to her, slightly and rumbled, “I do believe that’s my job,” as he pulled her slicked hand out from her wetness. She let him take her hand to his mouth where he sucked her wet fingers, moaning from the taste. “You’re sweet,” he said as he kissed the tip of her pointer finger, when he was satisfied.
She found herself gasping when he grabbed her from under her thighs to rest hovering over him, straddling his thighs, his cock so close to her dripping center. She returned the favor of sucking on his fingers when he presented them to her. Unconsciously, she found herself, humming around them, as she got them wet with her saliva. Her hips tried for friction, knowing his cock was so close but he sensed that and held her away from him, whispering, “No, no not yet.”
“Please, I need you in me,” she gasped out, knowing she sounded desperate. Maybe it was the X, but god everything just felt so good. Too good. So good, she was futilely trying for any kind of contact. She tried to convince him with open mouth kisses on his neck and shoulders. At some point he had taken his shirt off, but she couldn’t quite remember. Not that she cared. Sure, everything was blurring and spinning and moving and that’s what made everything better than good. Jim was feeling the same, she could tell. Desperate for her, pupils blown and slack jawed, but trying to play it cool, tease her a little.
Jim’s now wet fingers came to the center of her and started to slide over her clit. She let out a shudder, sighed near the shell of his ear and she knew he was starting to lose patience, truly wanting to be buried to the hilt inside her. He didn’t enter her with his fingers, though, wanting his cock to be the only thing to be inside her that night.
“Jim,” she gasped when he finally placed his cock closer to her, finally touching her, he coated himself in her wetness.
“Hmm?” He looked all to pleased with himself, eyes darker than she remembered. “You want me in you? You want to be full of me?” he asked, playing innocent. She could only let out a shaky sigh and nod, resisting just stuffing herself full of him then. She’d play his game. Only because he seemed to damn good at it.
“Please, please,” she moaned and started grinding into him properly. He seemed to accept the movement and dug his fingers into her hips, increasing the pressure between the two of them. He almost snarled when she gave a particularly hard circle of her hips.
“You think it’s going to be that easy? I know what you’re up to,” he said but didn’t stop her movements. In fact, by the way his hands travelled to her ass and gave a firm squeeze, she thought he quite liked what she was doing.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, genuinely confused, but not caring enough to stop the swivel of her hips, the small bites she was leaving across his chest.
“The way you walk around that beach? My beach? In that little bikini?” He groaned into her chest and started pulling her crop top up over her shoulders. His teeth toyed with her nipple.
“Oh, so you really watch me, then?” she challenged, pulling back to look him in the eyes.
He maintained steady eye contact as he entered her in one quick thrust, causing her head to fall back and eyes to flutter shut. “Jesus, Jim,” she moaned out, her head still thrown back feeling so full of him. He gave her breast a bite, loving the fact that she would be marked by him come tomorrow. His fingers dug into the flesh of her ass and he pressed impossibly deeper into her before lifting her and slamming back into her again.
He set the pace fast, needing release sooner rather than later. Both of them, tripping and needy for sensation, he was really doing them a favor. He was rougher than she had expected, but that certainly didn’t mean she wasn’t enjoying herself. Feeling him fill her completely, stretch her just perfectly, she was blissed out. Between his quick, deep thrusts, and sloppy bites, she was feeling herself slip.
“You walk around in that little bikini like you own the goddamn place,” his voice husky, said into her neck, leaving more purple bruises in his wake. He unsuccessfully tried to hold back a groan, “God, you’re tight.” His pace was markedly sloppier, not that she minded as she was also fighting to keep to the determined rhythm. Something about his tone, the timbre of his voice shot pleasure through her.
It had to be the E. Everything was bright but blurry and sharp- and everything was opposite but made sense- and was perfect and their minds ran faster than their bodies could keep up- and it was perfect. It was exactly what Jim needed. Her. To fucking own her, even if just for the night.
“You know the other guys have tried to get with me, right?” She didn’t know why she said that. Perhaps loosened inhibitions? Her heart nearly stopped when she heard herself say it, almost like an observer, no longer in complete control of what she says or does.
“Oh I know, baby. I hear the things they say they want to do to you, but I also know that I’m the only one that’s going to do them to you.” His long fingers traveled back around to her front to circle her clit. “I know I’m the only one that can make you feel this good.” He gripped her ass tighter with his other hand and she rode him impossibly harder, happy she let the confession slip since she got that reaction out of him.
It hadn’t been long, and she knew that, but the build up if the evening had been so much. Feeling her heard start to swim on that rooftop with him had been enough to put her in the mood and from then, she was craving him inside her. The along with her heightened senses, she felt warmth pool in her, the familiar twinge between her thighs.
“Jim, I think I’m gonna-”
“Come on me. I want that pretty little cunt to come on my cock,” he grunted as his hips snapped into her relentlessly.
She did. She felt herself unravel, clenching around his length as he buried himself completely in her.
“Christ, Y/N,” Jim moaned out as he could feel her clenching but still riding him, giving herself over to her sensitivity. She seemed to know what he was getting at because she mumbled a small, “Go ahead,” against his lips.
He came inside her tightness while her mouth, on his, swallowed his moans, her teeth nibbling at his bottom lip.
He was sure that she’d have bruises on her hips and ass from how hard he was gripping her, but he just didn’t want to let go. Jim also stirred from the thought that he would probably be decorated in her marks, come the morning. It was some sort of juvenile pride, the fact that he got with her before the other guys could, not for their lack of trying.
He pulled out of her, more gentle than he had been the entire night and he suddenly thought that maybe he was too rough, but she looked particularly blissed out so he figured it was fine. He had a bad habit of playing a little too hard when high.
Y/N’s eyes were glassy and resting at half mast as she manuverd herself to sit beside Jim, leaning herself over him, exhausted. He took her into his arms, just wanting to be near someone-just wanting to be near her. She was quietly laughing and it took him a minute to register that he was doing the same.
They exchanged a few more soft, small kisses after Jim had managed to recline the seat back completely, turning it into a makeshift bed-why he didn’t think of doing that earlier didn’t cross his mind. He pulled one the blankets he always kept in the back of the car over them, trying to shield her from the evening chill that still seeped into the car.
She passed out just a moment later, cradled by him, without another word. He couldn’t think of anything to say to her anyway.
Some Babes: @katiekitty261 @ovarydosed @stupidocupido @tarkofetis @langdonalien @michael-langdon-appreciation @thecinderellaposts @colorsunlimited @langdonsdemon @aveiangdon @ccodyfern @codysfallenangels @sojournmichael @starwlkers
Special Thanks to @thecinderellaposts and @michael-langdon-appreciation bc ya’ll always keep me right <3
#jim mason#jim mason x reader#jim mason hc#the tribes of palos verdes#tribes of palos verdes#tribes of PV#cody fern#topv vertigo#palos verdes#palosverdesestates#michael langdon#michael langdon x reader#michael langdon smut#ahs#ahs apocalypse#ahs coven#ahs fanfiction#ahs fx#ahs fic#topv#medina mason#medina#james mason#sandy mason#phil mason#fanfic#fic
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Vertigo: Chapter 2: Jacked Up
Vertigo: Chapter 2
Jacked Up
This fic is in progress.
Jim Mason x Reader
Warnings for this chapter: Graphic descriptions of drug use.
Summary: Jim’s very good at hiding his vices, except, that is, with Medina.
Notes: More exposition. I’m sorry guys but the drama is worth the wait. This is Jim’s story-Y/N is a component, but this is a story about Jim’s journey. Thank you all so much for the positive responses from Ch 1!
Word Count: 2.6k
Jim would see Y/N at the beach pretty regularly, not that he was looking for her. He couldn’t help that his room had a perfect view of the bay and whenever Medina was going for dawn patrol with her he would have his coffee outside, waiting for Sandy to be awakened by the other’s starting their day in the waves.
It seemed that Medina had finally had a friend, which made him exceedingly happy. Jim recalled the nights Medina would slip into his room and lay on the unmade bed asking why nobody liked her. He didn’t have an answer for her, or rather he did, but didn’t have the heart to tell her.
He couldn’t help but constantly be reminded of how much stronger she was. Of course, she was heartbroken that she didn’t have friends, but she did have the strength to not change herself for others’ approval. Jim couldn’t say the same for himself.
Coming in from his coffee- she wasn’t out there that day- he picked up his backpack and jacket.
“‘Dina,” he whispered, ear pressed to her door. He almost fell over when the door was ripped away from his face.
“Hey, we’re running late, let’s go,” she responded. She managed to smack him with her backpack as they snuck out the door, avoiding Sandy.It was a miracle that she even let him go to his classes.
The pair hopped into Jim’s car, a new Nissan SUV from Phil. A graduation gift his father had called it but Jim knew what it really was. It was a “Sorry we’ve been shitty parents and let you overdose, but here’s a material item that’ll make up for it” gift. Medina got a smaller Volkswagen beetle that she absolutely adored.
It had been three and a half years since his overdose. It really wasn’t even that bad, he thought. He had passed out at home, Sandy overreacted and he spent a night in the hospital. Then Phil proceeded to tell him that they wouldn’t be going to Paris and that he’ll do better.
Admittedly, it had been slightly better. With Sandy back on her meds she wasn’t as prone to mood swings and temper tantrums meaning Jim had slightly more freedom. It didn’t allow him to escape his responsibilities as ‘man of the house’ but things were almost manageable. Almost.
After everything, he had to be more careful. Withdrawal had been a nightmare but when his mind cleared he found that the memory was fuzzy. Turning back to booze, then weed, then pills, then coke, then everything at once, had been an easy decision. This time, though, he needed to be careful.
A few weeks into sobriety, his mother would inevitably forget about Jim’s problems, replacing herself as the center of attention in her mind, so hiding it from her had been a joke. “Oh, I’m just tired, mom. Long day at school,” he’d say as his eyes fluttered shut, laying on the couch with a comfortable blanket of haze clouding his thoughts. She ate that shit up.
His father was even easier. He had still moved out, but his relationship with Ava had ended a while back, now seeing some other redhead. He was never around, not that Jim wanted to see him anyway. But with him being a doctor, he had to make sure he was sober around the man. He’d recognize all the signs, especially knowing Jim was a user.
Medina. She was...complex. He had tried to hide it from her, he really did. She found out almost immediately and hadn’t said anything but he could see the pain in her eyes. The only response she gave was a “Be careful with that shit, Jim. You don’t know what you’re playing with,” bitten out on his way back to his room from the bathroom where he had just taken an oxy. All the warning he needed was written on her face every time she looked at him. He tried to ignore it, for his own sake.
It’s because of this that when she said, “Is it getting bad again? Please tell me,” while biting into an egg McMuffin on their way to campus that morning Jim almost crashed his shiny new car. She had begged to get breakfast on the way and he could never say no to his sister.
“What are you talking about, Medina?” he rolled down the window and looked out the windshield pretending to focus on the traffic in front of him.
“I know what you’re doing. I’m not stupid. But just tell me if it’s that bad again,” she tried to seem casual, sipping her iced coffee but it sounded a little too rehearsed.
“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry,” his teeth grit together. Turning into the parking lot of their university
“‘Cause I know when mom gets weird you get weird. I don’t think she’s taking her medicine again- since dad’s new girlfriend,” she hesitated not knowing what reaction Jim would have.
His fist slammed against the steering wheel, making Medina jump, spilling coffee on her corduroys. “I’m not ‘getting weird’ or whatever, okay?” he yelled. “Yeah, mom’s fucking crazy again, it’s whatever.” He pulled into a parking space a little too quickly and the car lurched.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” her voice was smaller than she wanted it to be.
Jim’s jaw was still tense, teeth clenched. He took a deep breath through his nose and rolled his eyes back. “I know you didn’t. I’m sorry for yelling,” he looked over to her and stuck his tongue out a little, the way that usually made her laugh.
She wasn’t laughing. “So it’s gonna be like that, then,” he leaned over and poked her in the ribs, right in the spot that tickled most.
“Jim, stop!” she shrieked, attempting to get away from his long arms. Her laughter bounced in the car. They both smiled.
“Now, go. I know you have ‘Adult Coloring’ or some bullshit,” he loved to make fun of her customized major, full of classes she was taking to one day do what she wanted most, travel and surf. It was a lot of photography, journalism, and some random classes for credits.
“It’s ‘portraiture’, I’ll have you know,” she called over he shoulder before closing the door. Through the open window, she smirked, “Have fun with your blocks or whatever you do.”
He let out a groan that turned into a laugh, “It was once!” he shouted to her back, walking to campus’ central. He had been trying to figure out the flow and perception of this one project he was working on, so yeah he brought out some Legos to visualize it. That’s architecture for you.
What she’ll never mention is that she distracted him and then proceed to spend the entire night on the living room floor trying to one-up each other's towers. Jim using what he had learned from four years of design and structural classes while Medina relied on ‘just staking them up until they fall.’ Her’s was taller by two blocks and she will never let it go.
Grabbing his backpack he decided to pull the small baggie of pills out and place them in an empty plastic cup, hidden under the seat. Out of sight, out of mind. He was almost off his last bender and held a small glimmer of hope that this would be the last time. The back of his mind was already itching for another fix, reminding him to be even more careful around Medina.
Planning for a long day in the library, still trying to find a topic for his senior thesis, he grabbed Medina’s unfinished iced coffee and headed into the beating sun with a brave face painted on.
--
No. No. No. He coughed up more bile, spilling from his throat into the toilet in front of him. It was disgusting, he knew, but he needed to rest his head on the seat of it, cool porcelain taming the heat that coursed through him. He dry heaved this time, causing the head-splitting migraine to reappear.
“Jim?” his mother knocked on the bathroom door. “Jimmy, are you okay?” The handle jiggled but it was locked.
“I’m fine, mom,” he breathed through his nose, trying to stare straight ahead to stop the room from spinning.
“I can hear you in there. Are you sick, honey?”
“Food poisoning. I’m fine.” Short words. Short sentences. The sound of his own voice making him want to smash his head on the tile, hopefully blacking out.
“Let me in,” she demanded. The thought of her being around him made him retch again, this time probably for the last time as there was nothing left to vomit up. But, from experience, he knew to sometimes just go along with Sandy rather than fighting. Especially when he was feeling like this, he had no fight left in him.
He crawled over to the door and managed to unlock it, Sandy not missing a beat and plowing into the room. “Jim!” She kneeled next to him and immediately put her hand over his sweaty forehead. Admittedly, her cool hand felt nice.
“It’s just food poisoning, mom. I’m fine,” he whispered and leaned into her- an instinct leftover from childhood. “Just need to sleep.” Chills wracked his body but sweat was clinging to every pore, the dark circles under his eyes almost red. His irises still shined a brilliant blue.
Sandy put her arm around him and helped to bring him to his feet. They shuffled into his room, his mother rambling about how California sushi can’t be trusted because so many of the people eat it, its mass produced.
Jim wished she would shut the fuck up.
He didn’t fully recognize how, but he was laying in his bed, tee shirt removed, blankets pushed off the mattress. In the fetal position, he slowly rocked himself willing the nausea away. He nearly lept out of his skin when Medina suddenly appeared, replacing Sandy.
“He likes to be alone when he’s sick,” Medina tried to reason to their mother, recalling when they were kids how Jim would always shy away from attention when he was sick, preferring to suffer in silence.
“He doesn’t like to be alone, he likes to be with you,” their mom spit out and turned on her heel, leaving Medina in the doorway holding a glass of water.
She made her way closer Jim, placing the glass on the nightstand. Perching on the side of the bed, she ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair, grimacing a little. He sighed under her touch and closed his eyes again.
“Thank you,” she whispered, mindful of his migraine. His eye cracked open and managed to convey his confusion. “I know what this is.”
“It’s food poisoning, that’s what it is. It’s that bullshit sushi we stopped for. Thanks for that,” he scoffed. She knew he didn’t mean any of it, that he was hurting. She could see his muscles twitch under his thin skin. They reminded her of springs, coiled and ready. His eyes screwed shut again and he nuzzled into her thigh. She could hear the small cries he was trying to hold back.
“We had the same thing for lunch, Jim. We split it,” she observed, letting him know his jig was up. She felt his head shake.
“Okay, then. It’s the stomach flu. Same thing, Jesus. Let it go,” he attempted to growl out but the intent wasn’t there. She held out the glass of water she had brought in and he was never more grateful for their twin telepathy ‘thing’. He managed to prop himself up and take a few slow sips. “Thank you,” he mumbled and handed the glass back to his sister, relishing the cool that washed down his throat.
Laying on his back he tried to stare ahead again, this time at the blank ceiling above him. He briefly thought about going outside to look up at the sky, but remembered that any sort of movement was practically impossible at the moment. His body ached as he had just run a marathon. Joints tight, frozen in place, he continued to lay on his back trying to regulate his breathing. 5 seconds in, 5 seconds out. He counted.
Medina continued to run her cool hands over his head and face. It only felt good because it was her. His other half, a strange extension of himself. Or probably he was the extension-Medina was already her own person. She didn’t need him anymore. His thoughts made him start rocking again, seeking any sort of primal comfort.
As if on cue, he felt the bed shift and she started to leave. Before she could, he managed to grab her wrist. “Don’t.” Only his lips moved. “Please.”
“I’ll be right back. I’m just getting more water,” she went to pull the blankets over him as the had shivers started despite his constant sweating. He nodded, content with her answer.
He thought that maybe he had finally started to drift off to sleep but was awakened by yelling. Sandy. At Medina, of course. Their shouts were muffled by the door and the fact that he couldn’t really think straight helped a bit, but his head still throbbed.
Sandy was going off about how Medina was always so judgemental towards her. Medina was snapping back with questions of why she wasn’t the ‘favorite’ twin. Sandy didn’t bother trying to hide it and plainly stated that she liked Jim better because he cared for her. Loved her. Medina started ranting about how this was just like last time. Last time, when things were Not Good. When Jim, the favorite, was Not Good. She suggested that maybe Sandy wasn’t that great of a mother if she didn’t love one of her children and couldn’t even manage to keep the one she liked from spiraling, practically killing himself.
Jim ground his teeth willing them to stop.
“This isn’t like last time for god’s sake,” Sandy screeched. “And it wasn’t my fault. Jim’s fine. Just like he was last time. It was a stupid mistake, once. He hasn’t touched that shit since, I’ll have you know,” she huffed. “Don’t make things worse than they are.”
Medina wasn’t about to out Jim. She was just trying to drop subtle enough hints that maybe Sandy would get the picture that things weren’t all that great.
Medina and Jim knew what was really going on in the other room. He was trying to detox from everything he had been taking in for the past few weeks. The two of them knew, and that’s the only thing that mattered.
Jim continued to hear them screaming from one thing to another. It was Sandy treating Jim like a husband, then it was how Phil was a bad father, then it was school, then Jim, then back to Phil, then Medina’s apathy, then back to Jim.
It always went back to Jim.
In a further attempt to block it out he rolled onto his side to his body’s dismay. Everything screamed in protest. When he opened his eyes he was greeted with the almost empty glass of water resting on the nightstand. His eyes narrowed in on the draw. Oh shit. Oh fuck.
To his horror and delight, he remembered the two small tablets he had pushed in the back of the drawer. For emergencies only, he told himself when he had placed them there. They went completely forgotten for so long he couldn’t even properly remember what they were. As if a puppet on a string, he propped himself up and opened the drawer, feeling the contents with long fingers. He felt the thin plastic and pulled the baggie out.
Directly depositing both of the pills on the back of his tongue, he used the last sip of water his sister had brought to swallow them. Shortly thereafter, he finally fell asleep.
Tags: @langdonsdemon @coloursunlimited @thecinderellaposts @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonalien @tarkofetis @stupidocupido @katiekitty261
Special thanks to some ultimate babes: @michael-langdon-appreciation @thecinderellaposts @katiekitty261 You are all so amazing and keep me fed with only the best Jim content. Thank you <3
#jim mason#jim mason x reader#jim mason hc#the tribes of palos verdes#tribes of palos verdes#tribes#tribes of PV#topv vertigo#palos verdes#palosverdesestates#cody fern#michael langdon#michael langdon x reader#michael langdon smut#ahs#ahs spoilers#ahs apocalypse#ahs coven#ahs fanfiction#ahs fx#ahs fic#topv#medina mason#medina#james mason#sandy mason#phil mason#fanfic#fic
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Vertigo Outtake 1:
Because I’m taking a million years with the next chapter-here’s a little smutty blurb that got cut :)
Unedited and kinda sucks--hence why it was cut.
They’re favorite time to be together were those of transition. Dawn, dusk, changing tides, anytime where two opposites met. The sun would start to crest over the horizon and she would sigh into the fresh sunlight, the first one to greet the sun in the morning. He would watch the fading stars, being blanketed by a blue sky but still there even when next to such a brighter light. The night ended and the day began, and they would sit either on the beach or in her Jeep and just breathe together, exist near each other.
Jim was not what one would call a morning person, but dawn patrol with Y/N could have him out of bed with a smile on his face at the drop of a hat. They’d sit in her car, waiting for morning to break with a grey mist hanging in the air. It made them feel like they were the only people in the world, blanketed under the haze.
He leaned over and nuzzled at her jaw, placing small kisses along it. “Mmm. Baby, I need you,” he whispered, sending a shiver down her spine. Without question, she climbed over to straddle him in the passenger seat. He easily stripped off her bikini bottoms, neither of them in their wetsuits yet.
It was his favorite type of way to be with Y/N. Slow and soft they would rock into each other, small gasps filling the small space of the car. It was lazy and a little sloppy, each of them barely awake, just moving how their instincts told them, minds to sleepy to think.
He grabbed her ass but let her control the pace, always riding him slow enough to savor every second. “Mm,” she moaned lightly as he would toy with her nipple between his teeth. “Baby, I’m close,” she warned, her tone hushed. He nodded and licked into her mouth, sucking on her bottom lip. His thrusts started getting sloppier and she knew he was close, too. It never took them long on those mornings.
“Jimmy, please cum inside me,” she whispered into his neck, placing open mouthed kisses.
“God, Y/N,” he moaned out, head falling back.
“I want you inside me.” She clenched down around him, feeling the fullness inside her, while she came.
He came not long thereafter, burying himself as deep as he could, releasing inside her, just as she asked. “For you, babygirl. It’s all for you.” He could never deny her anything.
I’m not tagging the official taglist because it’s not legit a chapter lol.
@michael-langdon-appreciation @ccodyfern @thecinderellaposts @starwlkers
#jim mason x reader#jim mason#jim mason hc#the tribes of palos verdes#tribes of palos verdes#palos verdes#topv vertigo
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Vertigo: The Playlist
Vertigo
The Playlist: To accompany the fic (which can be found on my masterlist in the bio)
Jim Mason x Reader
https://open.spotify.com/user/byhkptv6cnff2u0lx3ux0rssg/playlist/3jBAUiTgvnB3R4ldUhyyPP?si=nIBijyZWQIePIhlCp0VB5Q
Hold Me- Tom Odell
San Francisco- The Mowgli’s
Alone Together- Fall Out Boy
Weight of Living, Pt. I- Bastille
Jacked Up- Weezer
Blood Type- Cautious Clay
CIGARETTES- Amir Obe
Arabella- Arctic Monkeys
Buzzcut Season- Lorde
Just One Yesterday- Fall Out Boy
You Get Me So High- The Neighbourhood
Nica Libres At Dusk- Ben Howard
Ribs- Lorde
Pyro- Kings of Leon
In A Black Out- Hamilton Leithauser
A Lack of Color- Death Cab for Cutie
TALK ME DOWN- Troye Sivan
Unsteady- X Ambassadors
Vertigo- Khalid
Monsoon- Hippo Campus
The Night We Met- Lord Huron
Bravado- Lorde
Say Something- A Great Big World
I’ll Drown- Soley
Facedown- Gustavo Santaolalla
Only the Ocean- Jack Johnson
Threnody- Goldmund
We Move Lightly- Dustin O’Halloran
We Might Be Dead by Tomorrow- Soko
#jim mason#the tribes of palos verdes#topv#cody fern#topv vertigo#tribes#tribes of palos verdes#the tribes of palos verdes fanfic#jim mason x reader#im missing 100000 tags bc im on mobile#and eating tacos lol
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