#i hope he's gonna celebrate his entire summer break

[never-looked-so-good]

📷 @/scuderiaferrari

#now can we see it every weekend #or is it too much to ask for 👀 #i hope he's gonna celebrate his entire summer break #he deserves it #charles leclerc #f1 #formula 1 #belgian gp 2023 #instagram

[gimmethatagustd]

gang shit | knj

Your daughter's classmate has a really hot dad. Apparently, you're his arch-nemesis.

○ Pairing: Dilf!Namjoon x Single Parent!Reader

○ Rating: Sfw

○ Genre: Kidfic, strangers/romantic interest, an attempt at humor

○ 1 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Single Parent)

○ Word Count: 1204

○ Warnings: Shockingly none!! aside from my terrible sense of humor, jokes about Crime!!, and also Namjoon's dimples

○ Notes: Inspired by this tweet. I hope you enjoy the first drabble of my 100 Drabble Challenge I'm doing with @sailoryooons - Please check out Hali's drabbles throughout 2024, too! Happy New Year, besties! ✨

○ Post Date: January 1, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? GOAT - Number_i

“I don’t make the rules to this gang shit. I just play my role.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you cock your head to the side in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Namjoon adjusts his black baseball cap. His bicep bulges out of his short sleeve when he lifts his arm. 

You’re too old to be thirsting for a man like this. In all honesty, you’ve been acting childish all day – literally. It’s the last day of school before summer break, and your daughter’s preschool teacher invited parents to an end-of-the-year celebration. Having the privilege of working a hybrid schedule means it’s relatively easy for you to swing by the school with primary-colored cupcakes in hand. They’re the disgusting ones kids love that’ll stain their fingers and mouths bright blue. Oh, to be a four-year-old. So easy to please. 

Unlike little Yuna’s father, who has a stick shoved up his ass, and for what?

“What are you even talking about?” you ask with your arms crossed against your chest. 

You’d said literally five words to the guy, intending to start a pleasant conversation while the kids ran around the playground and the other parents mingled at the picnic tables outside. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Brooklyn’s parent.”

Apparently, that was offensive.

Namjoon’s sharp eyes drag up and down your body, and you try not to let his heavy gaze affect you – and fail when you feel your stomach dip. 

“Brooklyn said Yuna dresses weird,” Namjoon finally says with a pout that shouldn’t look so cute on a grown-ass man. 

“Did she?” 

“Are you calling Yuna a liar?”

“No!” This man is so volatile. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. We’ve been practicing using kind words, but, well, you know how kids are…” 

Namjoon doesn’t look convinced. 

You feel antsy under his gaze, unsure what to say or do. Are you supposed to apologize? Maybe that’s the mature thing to do. You’re still new to this whole “I’m suddenly responsible for an entire human being even though I barely even know how to take care of myself” thing. It’s a little bit unbelievable, actually! 

“I’m sorry for Brooklyn’s judgmental behavior. What kind of weird-, what kind of clothes-” you stumble through what you already know is a shit apology, “Which one is Yuna?” 

“That’s her.” Namjoon nods in Yuna’s direction.

You look across the playground to the swing set, where a little girl is lying on the swing on her stomach and spinning around with her arms and legs hanging limp. She’s wearing her hair in asymmetrical pigtails, one higher on her head than the other. Her sneakers are mismatched, as are her colorful knee-high socks. Her pants are polka-dotted, her shirt striped, and she’s got a bright purple cape tied around her neck. 

“She’s adorable,” you say softly. 

“She’s weird as shit.” 

Your mouth hangs open when Namjoon shrugs. 

“What? She’s my kid; I’m allowed to say that.” 

“Fair enough,” you concede with a smile, “So, we got beef now?”

“Yup.” 

Namjoon crosses his arms against his chest to match your stance. You tell yourself it’s very inappropriate to be eyeing your new enemy’s boobs when you’re in the middle of a showdown. 

“I’m not gonna lie, I don’t think I’m down for going to war for Brooklyn. Usually, I just like to blame her bad behavior on her dad,” you say with a barking laugh. You cover your mouth with your hand when you snort. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.” 

“You’re good,” Namjoon finally cracks a smile, and, wow, it’s breathtaking. His eyes crinkle at the corners, his teeth are big and bright, and he has dimples… “Yuna’s mother doesn’t let her dress how she likes, so when I have her, I let her do what she wants. Self-expression is important, y’know?” 

You nod because he’s right. Kids should be kids. 

“Plus, I like being the fun parent.” 

“Right! Who wants the parent with all the stupid rules?” You perk up, taking a step closer because now you’re partners in crime rather than enemies. Maybe. You’ll work on it. He’s too cute not to get up to some parental crime with—gang members, not rivals. 

“Not cool parents like us,” Namjoon lightly elbows you. 

“Yeah, they can’t ride with our gang.” 

Namjoon makes a face the moment the words come out of your mouth. He bites both lips, rolling them in and hollowing his cheeks, eyebrows raised. 

“What? What!” you gasp, knowing when you’re being made fun of, even if it’s in silence. 

“Don’t ever say anything like that ever again.” 

With a huff, you give him a tiny punch to the arm and tell yourself that it isn’t because you want to feel how tight his muscles are. 

“You’re the one who–” 

“HEY! NO HITTING!” 

Groaning, you throw your head back as a tiny blur of pink collides with your body. Brooklyn tugs on the hem of your shirt, repeatedly chanting, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” until you crouch to meet her at her level. Taking her little hands in yours, you hold them to your lips to give her knuckles a quick peck. 

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that to Mr. Kim,” you admit, “I should apologize, shouldn’t I?”

Brooklyn nods, and the bulbous beaded hair ties at the end of her pigtail braids swing like a deadly game of tetherball. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kim,” you say as you look up at Namjoon. He taps his finger against his chin in mock thought, and you can’t help but think that you’ll actually punch him if he fucks up this teaching moment by pretending not to accept your apology. 

“I forgive you,” he says with another grin that makes you feel like a silly teenager. 

“Y’know, Brooklyn, Mr. Kim told me something about you and Yuna…” Brooklyn immediately ducks her chin to her chest. No one has ever looked guiltier. “It’s not very nice to talk about how people look, love. I think you should apologize to Yuna, don’t you agree?”

It takes very little convincing for Brooklyn to run off toward the swings. She flops on her stomach in the swing beside Yuna, and then, after a bit of talking, both girls spin around. 

“If Brooklyn throws up from doing that, it’s your fault,” you mutter to Namjoon. 

“Real aggressive coming from someone who just physically attacked me.” 

“Okay, Mr. Gang Shit,” you quip back, catching Namjoon’s widening grin out of the corner of your eye. 

“Listen,” Namjoon touches your elbow, his fingers lingering just long enough for you to give him your attention. Heat spreads along your forearm and makes your fingers tingle. “I don’t really accept either of your apologies. You might need to try a little harder to get me to forgive you.”

“Oh.” You feel your stomach twist. 

“Might want to start with getting dinner with me, and then we can see where it goes?” 

Oh.

“I mean, if you think it wouldn’t hurt my street cred being seen with the likes of you, then, yeah.” 

Namjoon grabs his baseball cap bill and pulls it down until his hat covers his face. “Don’t make me rescind this offer because I’ll do it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see how it goes.”

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#bts x reader #namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #gang shit #100 drabble challenge

[heavenlyhischier]

Hi!!! My love I am so excited for your celebration!!

Could you do these prompts with Jack Hughes? ❛ we're going to fuck right here? what if someone sees us? ❜ ❛ let me come in you, please. i want to fill you up. ❜

NOT SUPER HAPPY WITH IT BC IM WRITING THIS AT WORK BUT ENJOY ILY

warning: MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT— smut, unprotected sex

Summers had always been your favorite time of the year, and that feeling only grew when you started dating Jack two years ago. You now found yourself at their lake house a good majority of your summer, spending your time on the boat or just outside while you enjoyed the warm air as the sun beat down on your skin. It brought a whole new meaning to summer for you, and you were eternally grateful that it was Jack who had done that for you.

Everyone had decided to have a more relaxed day, branching off to do their own things until the evening. You, of course, ended up outside by the water, splayed out on the lounger as you let the sun hit your skin. Jack was sitting next to you, and you thought he was scrolling through your phone, but his eyes were dragging the length of your body. He was taking in every dip, every curve, every freckle as if it was the first time he’s seen you with a bikini on before, and it was causing all of the blood to rush to his cock.

“Baby,” He called out, voice rippling through the breeze and breaking you away from your thoughts, “C’mere.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, sliding your sunglasses to the top of your head to narrow your eyes at him, “Why? We’re not gonna fit on the chair together.”

“Just want you,” He shrugged, a coy smile toying at his lips, “We’ll fit, just gotta sit on my lap.”

You let out a soft laugh, getting off of the chair to take the few steps needed over to him. He gently pat his thighs, gesturing you to straddle them as he gave you a playful wink. Grabbing onto his shoulders, you placed your knees on either side of him, careful to not slip off the chair, and relaxed against him. You immediately felt his bugle pressing to your inner thigh, and heat flooded everywhere in your body.

“Jack,” You mumbled, “Let’s go inside.”

He gripped your hips, pushing you down on his erection as he let out a small moan. Your eyes flutter closed when he adjusts your body so your center is pushing against him, the pressure moving from your thigh to your clit. With your finger nails digging crescent shaped marks in his skin, you repeat yourself in hopes that he would get the hint, but he shakes his head.

“What? We’re going to fuck right here? What if some sees us,” You whisper though no one’s around to hear you anyways.

“They won’t, baby, I promise. Need you right now,” He groaned, “Please.”

Despite the fear of getting caught, you couldn’t help but feel a little exhilarated by the thought too. Jack’s eyes are boring into yours, wide and pleading as he waits for your response. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you let out a small nod, and Jack is quick to lift the the both of you so he can tug his shorts down his legs enough to let his cock spring free.

“It’s okay,” He assured you as he watched your eyes dart around you, “No ones going to come out here, and no one can see us from the water.”

You swallowed thickly as let out a deep breath, letting yourself focus on the situation in front of you rather than the possibility of what could happen. Jack reached a hand up to brush your hair behind your ear, silently asking you if it was okay to keep going. In response, you pull your bottoms to the side and grab the base of his dick, dragging it through the wetness between your folds.

“Shit,” He hissed when your grip tightened as you lined him up with your entrance.

You let out a breathy, whiny moan as you sink onto him, his thick length filling you up entirely until you couldn’t take anymore. Your hands fly back up to his shoulders to steady yourself as you wait for the dull pain to subside. Jack is letting out a string of quiet moans as he feels your walls clench around him as you adjust to his size, his hips twitching with the desire to buck into you. He doesn’t mind the sharp sting from your nails in his shoulder, the only feeling he cares about is the way you feel wrapped around him.

After what feels like forever to Jack, he watches as you lift your hips up before slowly rocking back down against him. He pulls you into his chest, his lips capturing your own in a passionate kiss as you set the pace. The pads of his fingers are harshly pressing into your flesh as he tries to control himself, but the way you dragged your pussy against him was sure to ruin any self control he thought he had.

“You feel so good, baby,” He groaned against your lips, his hands slowly beginning to move you at his pace, “Being such a good girl. Taking my cock when anyone could see you.”

Your movements are slow and shallow, the way you’re sitting on him not providing you with enough room to do anymore than that, but Jack is quick to take over. He’s holding you tightly as he slams into you, your moans loud as they bounce off the trees and across the water. The desire to stay quiet long forgotten as the man beneath you hits into you deeper and harder with each thrust.

He didn’t want to let go of your hips due to the unstable nature of the chair, and since Jack knew your body better than his own soemtimes, he knew how to guide you to your release with just his cock. He could feel your walls flutter around him, and he knew that you were about to reach your breaking point, but so was he. He never lasted long when you were on top of him, the sight alone was enough to send him to orgasm.

“Let me cum in you, please. I want to fill you up,” He whines as he nearly sends himself over the edge.

“Okay,” You manage to force out through strangled moans.

His hips stutter underneath you as your orgasm is tearing through your body and you have to bite his shoulder to prevent yourself from screaming out. Jack is a mumbling mess of moans and curse words as he shoots his load into you, filling you up with his cum as his movements slow down. Your moans turn into whimpers as he carefully continues to rock himself into you, the feeling proving to be a bit too much for your arching core.

“Jack, how are we going to clean up before going inside? I don’t have a towel,” You ask, slight panic settling in your chest as you snap your head up to meet his gaze.

“We’re right by the water baby. We’ll be fine.”

#kayla🩷 #⭃ abby answers asks #jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes smut #2k milestone!

[snuggerudsz]

GORGEOUS l MS47

summary: a night out to celebrate the summer break brings out some jealousy and feelings you have tried to hide from mick.

pairing: mick schumacher x fem!reader

author’s note: yes, this is another taylor swift inspired (ish) fic. i'm addicted to everything TS, sorry not sorry. but i had to write something bc mick has this summer glow rn and he looks soooo good. i hope you enjoy. remember: likes and reblogs are always welcomed. thank you for reading!!! <3333

“You have a cute accent, you know that?” The girl said, giggling while trying to replicate the Swiss native’s accent.

“Stop making fun of me, it’s unfair.” The blonde pouts a little.

“You should take it as a compliment, Micky.” You replied, sticking your tongue out at the man.

Mick just laughs, holding your arm to keep you upright when you stumble a bit. Usually, you’d never be caught dead this drunk, but when the Formula 1 summer break finally began, you decided to go out to celebrate having your best friend back 一 in a totally platonic way, because you are so not completely, wholly, unconditionally, and irrevocably in love with Mick Schumacher. Not even a bit. No.

Maybe just a tiny bit, when he looked at you with those baby blue eyes 一 and God, you love his eyes. They held the whole ocean, the entire sky, and had swallowed you whole, you were still trying to get out of them but secretly you think you might never be able to.

The conversation between your friend group was flowing, everyone talking, laughing, and having a lot of fun. Until your eyes drift away for a second, searching for Mick. And you find him. Talking to a girl in the corner. Your eyes water slightly while your brain calls you stupid for thinking, hoping 一 even if for a second 一 that he could be yours. Deep down, you had always known what your relationship with Mick was and what it’ll always be 一 friendship. Hope blurs the line a bit, but you know he’ll never look at you the way you look at him.

Suddenly, you couldn’t stay in the club anymore. It was getting difficult to breathe; the loud music was giving you a headache and you had to get out now. After mumbling something to your friends about getting some air, you go out into the street, taking deep breaths, sitting in the sidewalk. You were calming yourself down, until you feel steps behind you, causing you to feel anxious and uneasy.

“(Y/N)?” You hear Mick calling, relief taking over your body. “Why are you here? Did something happen?” You can hear the worry in his voice when he rushes to your side, squatting down in front of you.

“Just needed some air, Mick.” You whisper quietly, not looking the blonde in the eye.

“I’ll take you home if you want, schnucki*. We can have some tea, watch some movies and-”

“Mick, stop!” You barked out, getting up, “stop talking. Stop acting like you care, please.”

The swiss man stands up, looking stunned. You never spoke to him like that, and it hurt him deeply. He was looking at you, puppy blue eyes completely lost.

“(Y/N), what do you mean?” He asked, as confused as one can be.

“Mick, I love you, but-”

“I love you too!” He interrupts you.

“No, Mick, I love love you. I’m in love with you and it’s killing me, Micky.” You admit, looking away, not sure you could take Mick’s reaction to your admission.

“God, schatz*, you’re gonna fuck me up, aren’t you?” He says, looking you straight in the eyes, half laughing, while walking closer to you.

“What?” Confused, you question, looking at him.

 “It’s you, (Y/N). It has always been you and the little things you do that make my heart palpitate and give butterflies in my stomach.” He says as if it is the most obvious thing in the whole goddam world. “It’s the way you wrinkle your nose when you’re laughing really hard. And, and it’s the way you always get so happy talking about what you love and how your eyes look like the brightest stars in the night sky. It’s all of our late-night talks and early-morning adventures. It’s the way you can be so agonizing blind to not see how in love I am but I still can bring myself to be mad at you, because look at you! I can’t say anything to your face. You’re so perfect, I can barely believe you’re real. And-” Mick’s interrupted by the girl’s lips on his.

At this moment, something stirred inside the both of them; it was the sweet feeling of being loved back. Mick was yours, and you were his. And nothing had ever felt better. 

#mick schumacher #mick shumacher x reader #mick shumacher imagine #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

[callmewrinkles3]

This Love - DR3 x fem!OC

Summary: An escape to Perth for a week helps Dan and Em to realise what they want. But they each have a secret to tell that could rip them apart before they can begin to fix each other.

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy loss, retirement talk, smut (piv sex, fingering, light choking)

A/N: A day later than planned, but the continuation of what’s going on to our babes in 2022! This part deals with some pretty heavy themes, so look after yourselves. Take this as a present for the 300 followers. Hope you like it and lots of love! 💜

June 2022

When Dan helped Em to bed that Monday night she didn’t really sleep. The fog that had clouded her thoughts and judgment basically since she’d left London was lifting and it was like coming back to 4K from an old VHS tape. The way she’d buried her thoughts and self in anything except thinking about what happened, the weight she’d lost, the way she didn’t feel like herself anymore. She’d buried her head in the sand and hadn’t realised what was going on until it was too late. She didn’t want to be like this anymore.

Having Dan there at her side helped. They’d decided to delay their conversation for the summer break, booking flights to LA to leave soon after the race there. It was a week talking about everything and building their relationship and a week of wine tours to celebrate her birthday. She knew it would be hard and they’d both struggle at points but it needed to happen. They were committed. They were going to tell the world about their relationship in Baku. It was going to work out for them. It had to.

Em tried to push the thoughts swirling in her brain aside but it didn’t work, her sleep fitful. She woke up to Dan kissing her forehead and she smiled up at her boyfriend. He was right there beside her and that wasn’t changing. He wasn’t leaving her. She could do this. She could talk to him about anything.

Grace and Joe were staying in Monaco and using it as a base to visit family in Italy while Em and Dan were packing for three weeks away, from Perth to Baku to Montreal. She had her packing list on her phone and Dan pulled it out of her hand.

“What happened to your screen?” He ran his finger along the broken glass, a plastic screen protector barely holding it together.

“It broke when I was away.”

“How?” She blinked and took a breath before answering. It was probably the most embarrassed she felt about how she acted when she was gone.

“I threw it against a wall.” That was a story for another day.

“We’ll get you a new one. It’s not safe to use like this.”

“Danny, it’s fine. I can get the screen changed.”

“No. Baby you’re gonna hurt yourself on it. You’ve had it nearly three years, you need an upgrade anyway.”

“Fine.” He kissed her and she smiled, not truly annoyed at him as he went to the bathroom. She was filling the case mostly for Baku and Montreal, she had clothes in Perth still. They were old but they’d work for while she was there.

Dan came out of the bathroom with the two toiletry bags, passing her the purple one she put in her checked bag and the clear one that went into her hand luggage. Em smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I put a box of tampons in too. It’s about time you’ll need them, right?” The casual way he said it made her want to smile, but it nearly broke her at the same time. She had to tell him everything.

“Things shifted when I was away. But better safe than sorry.” They finished backing and Dan held her for a few moments as she got herself ready to leave. Final hugs went to everyone else before they went to Nice airport to start the trek to Perth.

Dan held her hand the entire way in the car, and for once they decided to take advantage of the VIP service the airport had. Usually they didn’t bother, but today it was worth it. They were escorted through security and to the lounge to sit and wait for their flight to Dubai. It was packed, a side effect of it being the day after the Grand Prix. Most of the other drivers who didn’t live in Monaco had already left the principality but they were ignored by most of the clients there. Another Formula One driver wasn’t a big deal. They spotted Kevin with his wife and daughter sitting a few tables away, smiling and waving to them.

As she watched Laura sit in Louise’s arms, babbling away, Em felt another pang of longing and loss hit her. The memories of that day four weeks ago when she realised her planned but delayed trip to the pharmacy for a test wasn’t needed anymore. That the suspicions she’d had but was too afraid to confirm for a few weeks were right but she was too late. Sobbing on her childhood bedroom floor clutching her knees to her chest because she was in the worst physical and emotional pain she could think of. She was losing the last piece of Dan she thought she’d ever have.

He needed to know. She needed to tell him and it couldn’t wait until August. It couldn’t wait for months because, selfishly, she couldn’t live with the guilt of not telling him if it was what would break them in the end. The internet had told her that it wasn’t her fault. That losing a pregnancy before twelve weeks was common, that late periods because of stress were normal. That running your pill together for three months and then not taking it for two could throw your cycle into chaos.

She had no true proof of what had happened apart from her symptoms and suspicions but it was enough for her to know. The way the constant exhaustion had eased, how the tenderness in her chest calmed within hours. The nausea she’d had stopping even though she didn’t want to eat. The nearly two week long period when before she was ever on the pill she’d been like clockwork.

Em knew the truth of what she’d lost. And she knew telling Dan was going to hurt both of them. Now that she could think clearly there was no alternative to telling him. She should have tried to get in touch no matter what to tell him and he deserved to know now.

She was quiet on the flight to Dubai, both of them taking a nap through it. Em woke to Dan’s hand on hers, his arm stretched awkwardly over the screen between them so he could hold onto her. He loves her. That was what could get her through until they were alone.

Arriving in Dubai meant that they were escorted to the first class lounge to wait out the three hours of their connection. As they got to the door Em stopped dead in her tracks. Dan was pulled back by his hand because of it and he watched her stare at the door.

“Emmy? Is everything ok?” He asked as she shook her head and bit back the tears she wanted to let out.

“We haven’t been here since last year.” She could see the moment the realisation hit him of their last time in the lounge together. When they said goodbye and he was going to Perth for New Years and she had to go back to London. The beginning of the end of everything.

“We’re going to find a table and sit, ok? Just you and me and some food. That’s all, Baby girl.”

“Ok.”

He found them a seat on the opposite side of the lounge to last time, both of them slipping into seats. Food was brought to them that Em didn’t want to eat but made herself take some bites. Dan’s arm was around her as he held her close and pushed kisses against her head. Fuck the rules, they needed this closeness.

The second flight from Dubai to Perth was eleven long hours as they fought to stay awake to try stave off jet lag. It was caffeine and watching films together, pressing the play button on their screens so they could watch them at the same time. The flight passed slowly but she held Dan’s hand whenever she could. They stayed connected like that as they got off the plane and she put her carry on over her arm to go through immigration and customs. They only let go when she had to join the non Australian line at immigration. Dan watched and waited for her as he was already through.

“What’s the reason for your visit?”

“We’re seeing my boyfriend’s family. I’ve only seen them once in the last two years and I had to leave Melbourne pretty quickly when I did. We have a spare week so wanted to see them.”

“Is your boyfriend Australian? Is he travelling with you?”

“Yes he is. He’s already through if you look behind you.”

Even in a hoodie and jeans to beat the Aussie winter Dan’s smile was infectious. It was the same grin as on nearly every Optus ad in the country and Em could tell the exact moment he was recognised.

“Oh, of course. Enjoy being back.”

She rarely used Dan’s celebrity for her own good, if ever, but it was worth it now to get through without extra questioning. Instead they collected the bags and went through quarantine with a smile and handing over the entry cards. The treats that they’d brought back were approved and just over an hour after landing they were in the familiar surrounds of Perth international arrivals. Joe had given them the keys to his car so they didn’t need to rent one. Instead they piled their bags into the boot to go straight to the farm. It wasn’t too cold for Em but Dan hated the thirteen degree weather and put the heat on as soon as they got into the car.

Their original plan had been to get to Michelle’s from the airport to see everyone but they couldn’t face it. Em was desperate for the hugs from her niece and nephew, for Michelle to wrap her in the big sister hugs that felt so good, but she couldn’t keep her emotions together if she saw them. It took all of three minutes to choose takeout to order on the way home to the farm. They sat at the table as Em nibbled the pizza she’d gotten while Dan ate chicken and rice that mostly fit his race diet. Once they were finished they curled into bed, wrapped around each other.

They lay there in the dark, quiet room, not sleeping or speaking. Em took a deep breath and let out a sigh as everything was screaming at her to speak.

“Penny for them?” Dan asked and she blinked, looking up at him and realising that this was the moment she had to say everything out loud for the first time. “There’s been something on your mind since you came back, right? What’s going on Wrinkles? You know you cal always tell me anything.”

“I’m afraid if I tell you then you’ll hate me.” His arms tightened against her while she closed her eyes and felt a kiss pressed to her forehead. He was there. He wouldn’t leave.

“I can’t hate you. I promise, Baby. I could never hate you. I love you. If you want to wait we can until we’re in LA and we have our talk. It’s whatever you w—“

“No. I need to tell you now.” Em pressed a kiss against his chest, holding onto him so tightly that she thought she might break him for a moment. “I…Fuck. When I was in Liverpool I was late. I was really, really late Danny.”

His sharp intake of breath was enough to tell her he’d heard what she said, but he stayed quiet and pushed his lips to her head until she was ready to keep speaking. Em took a couple of quiet breaths before continuing.

“I had a plan. I was gonna take a test to confirm, and when it came up positive I was gonna call you after the race. You had a right to know, y’know? I wouldn’t have kept that from you. I swear, Dan, I never could have done that. But the day I had the courage to buy it and take it I wasn’t late anymore.” Trying to get the words out felt like a clog in her throat. Tears streamed down her face as she forced herself to push everything else out. “Remember when we were here for lockdown and how I was when things got too much? I was like that and I was alone and in pain and I was so sad. I didn’t know I wanted a baby. But I really wanted your baby. And then I had one and I lost our baby and it’s my fault and I’m so sorry, Danny. I’m so, so, so sorry for losing them. I’m sorry.”

Her sobs overtook her but Dan sat up in the bed and pulled her to him. She didn’t know how they ended up like that but she was in his lap. His arms wrapped around her as he rubbed her back, soothing her and trying to calm her tears. She’d lost their baby and the only things going through her head was that it was her fault and if she’d looked after herself and not let herself be so upset and angry then things would have been different. It was her fault. It had to be her fault, it couldn’t be anyone else’s fault because she was the one who couldn’t keep their baby safe. As her tears began to slow and the wracking sobs eased she could hear Dan’s constant murmurs while she calmed down.

“How can I blame you, my Emmy? It’s not your fault and I will never, ever say it is. You’re so fucking brave, Baby. You’re so brave for getting through this and doing it by yourself and I wasn’t there to help you and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I’m so, so sorry that you didn’t think you could ask for help. I’d have been there in a minute, fuck everything else. Nothing else matters except you and me, Baby. You are wonderful and strong and brave and it’s going to happen for us. When we’re ready to have a kid we’ll get to. I promise you. You’re going to be ok. We’re going to get through this, you and me, like always.”

She clung to him as he spoke, a weight lifting off her shoulders. The miscarriage had been in the back of her mind ever since it happened, even when she hadn’t realised it was there. She’d been ignoring it since that day, nobody knew. But it was real. They’d lost their baby and she had hurt so badly because they had but they were going to be ok. They were going to make it.

“You back with me?” Dan asked as she stopped sobbing and he wiped at her eyes. His thumb wiped the tears away and all Em could see when she looked up at him was love. He loved her. Even after all this, even after her failure, he still loved her.

“Yeah I am. I’m not ok. I’m really not doing ok Danny.” They were some of the hardest words she’d had to say.

“I love you so fucking much. So much. I always knew you were brave anyway. Anyone who’s seen the crap said in the paddock knows that about you. You are amazing and wonderful and kind. We both know this is the kind of thing so many people have nightmares about. And you, my amazing and strong girlfriend, went through this on your own.” A watery smile went across her face as Dan pecked her lips quickly. “I’m sad we’re never going to meet that baby. I’m so sad we won’t get to see them grow up. But the worst part is that you went through that without anyone to support you. I’d have been there in a heartbeat if I knew. When did it happen?”

“The week of the race in Miami.” The pain was clear on both their faces. “I nearly texted Michael so many times. There was a photo of you—“

“The blonde who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Yeah. I saw that photo the day after it happened. Started. I guess. I tried writing and deleting a text a hundred times to ask him if you’d moved on but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to know.”

“Oh Emmy, baby. I was never going to move on from you. Ever.”

She believed him. She believed every word he said, every moment of them together. And that realisation made her curl against him even tighter.

“I’m so tired, Danny. I’m so, so tired.”

“You just sleep. We’ll see the kids in the morning before they go to school and we can pick them up after to bring them to dinner. Sound good?”

“That sounds really good.”

It was probably too early to go to sleep but for the first time in a week Em slept well with Dan’s arms tightly wrapped around her. She woke up to him shifting in his sleep with his lips against her forehead as he slept. She smiled as she woke and kept her head on his chest before Dan’s alarm went off to wake them.

“You up?” He asked as Em twisted her neck to loop up at him again.

“Yeah. You?”

“Just about. I love you.”

“I love you too.” She let out a breath she didn’t even know that she was holding as Dan caught her in a kiss. He grinned against her lips before letting go and watching her for a moment.

“I’ll put coffee on, we can get breakfast out later?”

“Perfect.”

They were able to take their time getting ready. Dan watched as Em got dressed in clothes she’d kept there, putting her jeans on and pulling the belt tight against her. It was an old belt but it was in a new notch. The jeans that she’d owned since the Chinese Grand Prix were loose around her legs and it felt wrong. She was physically and mentally exhausted and worn out and desperately needed to relax and spend time with Dan. He held her hand as they got into the car, Dan the one who drove back to Michelle’s home.

They arrived just in time as Michelle hurried the kids out the door to go to school. Isaac started asking who was in his grandpa’s car but when Em opened the passenger door and stepped out there were two excited yells as they sprinted to her. The force nearly knocked her backwards into the side of the car but Dan held her arm so she could keep on her feet. Bending down for hugs Isabella wrapped her arms around Em’s neck to be lifted for a cuddle and Isaac followed suit.

She shouldn’t have been able to lift them up. Not with how tired she felt, not with how weak she felt. But she made herself stand up with them in her arms. Dan’s hands were supporting her lift and helped her stay upright as she did, grabbing onto them and holding close. Michelle ran towards them in surprise and once the kids were standing on solid ground Em got a hug from her too. She was home and in her sister’s arms and even with how awful her body felt this was good.

Michelle had to go back to work but they both promised to be back for when the kids finished school to take the family out for dinner. But Dan and Em ended up in a hipster breakfast place Dan found online, sitting next to each other in the booth. She sat there with her caramel latte and avocado toast with a poached egg and listened to Dan’s accent get thicker the more he spoke to people. They could both tell he’d been recognised but the nice thing about Perth was that people left him alone there.

“I think this is technically our first date,” Em murmured and watched as he frowned and thought.

“Fuck. You’re right. I always figured our first official date would be something fancy. Bring you somewhere you deserve.”

“We’re sitting in Perth having breakfast together. It’s the first of many.”

“Yeah it is.” He grinned and gripped her hand while they finished what they were eating before leaving the cafe.

Em just followed Dan down the semi familiar streets. So much had changed in the two years since she’d been in Perth, stores closed and new ones taking their place. They held hands in the weak winter sun, still warm on her skin compared to England. Dan walked like a man on a mission until they arrived at their destination.

It was the Apple Store, quiet for the Thursday morning as they arrived. They went to the phones immediately, Em looking at Dan.

“You need a new phone, Baby. One that isn’t going to cut your hand. Which size do you need for everything?”

“Danny I can get this fixed.”

“Please? Fresh start. New phone, new iPad. You need a new iPad for work anyway, it was upgrade time. So we’ll get it all now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, both of them smiling as they separated from their first kiss in public. Em was still nervous about it and would have rathered just get her phone fixed but she knew what Dan was like when he got an idea in his head. So she held his hand as he explained exactly what they wanted.

“So it’s two 13 Pro Max phones, each one terabyte. Can we get a gold and a silver one? And an eleven inch iPad Pro with as much memory as you have.” Dan put the other accessories he’d picked up on the table beside the sales assistant, two cases for the iPad - one with a keyboard and one without - and two phone cases. Em’s was purple leather, Dan’s a bright blue silicone. She felt overwhelmed with the amount of money Dan was spending on her but just gripped his hand as he put it through his card. It was for them. Them as a couple, nobody else. It was worth it.

Instead of going back to the farm to come back to town they found a coffee shop to set up their new purchases. It felt a little ridiculous but Em loved it as Dan pulled her in for a selfie as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and set it as his Lock Screen. This was real. It was them.

“We’ll talk to Blake in Baku about when you start coming back to work? You left things easy for him to pick up so if you want some time you’ve got it.”

“What are you talking about, Dan?” She looked at him carefully. She’d quit her job. She didn’t have anything to go back to.

“I assumed you’d want to come back to work? If you don’t that’s fine. If you need time or anything it’s totally fine. But it’s there for you.”

“What about your new assistant?”

“What new assistant?”

It made the tears want to come out again. They hadn’t replaced her. She thought people were just keeping her replacement away but they hadn’t. They still wanted her. They always had wanted her and she’d walked away.

“Em. Emmy, look right at me ok? You and me.” She blinked the tears back to stare at Dan as he squeezed her hand. “We couldn’t even think about replacing you. Never. You’re right here and not going anywhere. And if you want to come back you’ll slot back in. If you don’t want to come back to work that’s also fine. It’s up to you.”

“I didn’t think I could come back.” The words were slow to leave her mouth, each one an effort as her panic started to recede.

“We wanted you back as soon as we could find you, Baby.”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“For loving me.”

“Always.”

Dinner at Michelle’s was fun. The kids enjoyed seeing their Auntie Emmy and Uncle Daniel when it was least expected, and the idea of a sleepover for two whole nights was exciting. Most of it was casual until Michelle half cornered Em in the kitchen.

“Are you ok?” She asked and Em shook her head.

“I…no. The last two months haven’t been good. But we’re getting through it.” Michelle wrapped her in a hug and it felt so, so good. They were close together for a moment and Michelle kissed her cheek.

“If you need anything we’re right here. No matter what’s happening between you and Dan we’re here. Especially if my idiot brother needs a reality check.”

“Don’t call my boyfriend an idiot. But no, it was both of us. We’re fixing it. It’ll take time.”

“Still, if either of you need anything. We might be the other side of the world but we’re here for you.”

“Thanks. For all of it.”

They left before it got too late, the two of them exhausted from jet lag and a busy day. Dan navigated the turns back to the farm easily, his hand on Em’s thigh. When they got inside she sat on the couch, opening the iPad to set it up.

“I haven’t looked at my emails since I left Melbourne. It’s going to be scary to look at, isn’t it?” As she finished speaking there was a crash, Dan smashing a glass that had been in his hand. “Danny?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. You haven’t looked at your email since then?”

“No. Why?”

“Fuck. I thought you knew.” He sat beside her and took her hand, Em staring at him as he did. “Two days before you came back I sent you an email. I…I’m retiring at the end of the year.”

“What?” The words were going around her head. Retiring. Dan. It didn’t feel right.

“Racing’s taken everything from me. It nearly took you from me. I can’t do this again. I can’t, Baby girl. I can’t do it. I’m not happy anymore, I hate this team, I hate the way they treat you and act about you. How they don’t listen to me and keep blaming me when it’s the fucking car. So I’m out at the end of the year.”

“Don’t do this for me. If you start doing this because of me you’re going to regret it.” The naked fear that he’d start hating her because of this decision filled Em. She didn’t know what she’d do if he hated her.

“It’s not just you. I don’t—“

“Do you still love racing?”

“Yeah. But not with McLaren. Not in this car. It’s fucking toxic.” She squeezed his hand and kissed him carefully.

“Then we’ll find a team for you. But don’t retire like this. Don’t let them chase you out of the sport you’ve loved. You’re the king of fucking Monaco, Danny. You’re an eight times Grand Prix winner, and you haven’t bottled multiple podiums the way your teammate has. I believe in you. So if you want to retire because it’s time then do it. If it’s like Kimi and you’ve done what you want to do. But not because you think it’s your only option. Don’t do that.”

His expression changed and Dan pulled her close. Kisses pushed against her head and she smiled up at him to kiss him properly.

“Do you really mean that? Mind another couple of years of travelling around the world?”

“I mean every word. This is your time, Danny. And in a couple of years we’ll move back and it’s my time. Deal?”

“Deal.”

He didn’t respond, instead lifting Em up and carrying her to the bedroom carefully. Her legs wrapped around his waist while he did, arms holding onto his neck for dear life. But she knew Dan wouldn’t drop her. She trusted him not to.

When they made it to the bedroom it was fumbling fingers, both trying to get the other naked and hold on at the same time. She gasped as Dan undid the clasp on her bra, his hands cupping her boobs for the first time in too long. He lavished kisses against them until he was interrupted by Em taking his shirt off, pulling her too him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

She moaned as Dan’s fingers slid through her folds, feeling where she was wet and slowly playing with her to make sure she was fully ready for sex. He held onto her cheek with the other hand. They each pushed soft kisses to their faces while they got ready, but finally Em positioned herself and slid onto Dan. The stretch as he entered her was perfect, everything she didn’t know she’d missed.

Every time Em tried to get a rhythm going Dan held her at her hip, slowly thrusting. It was shallow and didn’t feel like him, didn’t feel the way they always had sex. It just felt wrong and that terrified her. From the first time they’d slept together they’d always managed to make sex work. And now it felt wrong and if this was a sign of things to come then they wouldn’t be able to save themselves. She couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not after everything they were fighting for.

“You can go like normal.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” It was like a punch in the gut but Em held firm and looked at him. Her hand caught his chin and made him look into her eyes.

“I need my Danny back. I need the Danny who doesn’t treat me like I’m about to break back, the one who knows exactly what we need. We know each other so well, we know what we have. If we’re scared of each other this isn’t going to work for us. Baby, please. I love you and I believe in you.”

Em didn’t know what possessed her to do it but she took Dan’s hand from her cheek and carefully pressed kisses to each digit. The final one went to the centre of his palm. Watching Dan’s face carefully she pulled his hand from her lips and pushed it to the centre of her neck.

It had been their thing for so long she’d forgotten how it started. Her riding Dan, his hand on her throat controlling how she moved. She trusted him with all of it, with her. It was the ultimate way of showing how she felt.

“I love you and I trust you. Let me feel you, Baby.”

“I love you so fucking much.”

After the first proper thrust Em didn’t remember much else from the sex they had. She knew she came more than once because Dan would never let her be otherwise, and she knew his back was covered in scratch marks from her nails. Her boobs had love bites marked into them to mark her as Dan’s. The small spots where he gripped her hips to bounce her up and down would darken to fingertip bruises as well. There was a hickey on Dan’s collarbone that she knew Michael would kill her for but she didn’t care. It would fade.

But it felt right. It felt good. It was tiring and she was sore but Dan was all around her and it was everything. He brought her into the bathroom and ran the bath, helping her in and settle beside him. He even remembered a hair tie so her hair didn’t get wet.

“We’re going to make it.” Em said it determinedly, her voice quiet in the room. Dan pulled her even closer as she did.

“We’re gonna make it, Emmy. You and me, like we promised.”

“Yeah. We are.”

Dan helped her out of the bath and they got ready for bed, curling up with Em lying over him. A day ago she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, but now it felt like a new life for them.

“Ready for a weekend of chaos? I thought we could do the Zoo with the kids on Saturday, and Sunday bring them to the cinema and send them home hyper on sugar. Plus they want to spend time with you.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. We’re lucky to have them.” She could feel exhaustion hitting and kissed Dan’s chest once. “Gonna go sleep now. Love you.”

“Love you too, Emmy. Sleep well.”

For the first time in too many months, Em fell into a dreamless sleep with her boyfriend’s arms tight around her.

Taglist: @dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javden @mloyer @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiphobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @elizanav @neiich @luckyladycreator2 @scotlynaurora

#call it what you want fic #daniel ricciardo imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #daniel ricciardo oneshot #f1 oneshot #formula 1 oneshot #f1 imagine #formula one fanfic #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x ofc #ciwyw writing

[arctrooper69]

Solidarity

You have friends here - family. Sometimes you simply need silence to hear what you need to hear.

A/N: Part of @clonexreaderbingo for the square: "Stay with me"

Warnings: Panic attack, feeling useless, anxiety.

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

The mission was successful. No one was hurt, nothing had been compromised. The mission objective had been more than fulfilled and spirits were high - even Hunter sported a sly grin. Wrecker's boisterous, joy filled laugh echoed down the wooded trail towards the Marauder. For once, everything had gone according to plan. So why did it feel so heavy? Disconnected - like you were trapped behind a window, watching everyone else play their part?

Echo came behind you, clapping a hand to your shoulder. He smiled, "You did good today."

You pulled your face into what you hoped seemed like a believable smile, but for some reason, his words of encouragement made you feel worse.

"You did good today."

Had you really though? You sighed, Probably not. He was just saying it to placate you, so that you didn't feel like a total failure. It didn't work.

You recalled how you fell at least three times, tripping over your own feet.

Clumsy.

You couldn't seem to hold your blaster steady.

Weak.

Everything had been so overwhelming and frankly you'd been terrified.

Coward.

Even Omega had done much better than you, and she was a child. At least she was useful. You watched as she playfully skipped up the ramp and sighed.

What the hell is wrong with you!? Your inner voice scolded. Jealous of a kid!? That's really kriffing pathetic.

You trudged up the ramp into the Marauder, guilt tugging at your chest, weighing you down as it had been for some time now.

"Are you ok?"

You jumped as a low voice interrupted your self-sabotaging spiral. Of course Echo would be the one to notice. Great. Now you had soured his mood as well.

Shifting away from him, you tightly folded your arms against yourself as you leaned on a crate just inside the doorway. Everyone else had already disappeared into the main part of the ship. You doubted they even noticed your absence.

"I'm fine." You lied. "Just a little tired. That's all."

Echo was silent, and for a moment you thought he'd believed you and left to go celebrate with the others. Your heart sank. Part of you had actually hoped he'd stay.

You shifted again and to your surprise, he hadn't moved. He regarded you carefully, face unreadable. He took a breath and then looked up at you.

"Okay." He said calmly, almost casually. He jerked his head towards the ramp. "Let's go for a walk."

The two of you were silent, taking in the fresh summer air. The last rays of sunlight slowly faded behind the horizon leaving you in the soft evening glow of moonlight. You were greatful for the silence as Echo climbed up over a grassy hill and sat down. You sat beside him and the heavy feeling in your chest suddenly felt much heavier.

"So," Echo began slowly. You could feel his penetrating gaze and it only made you want to hide your face in shame. You didn't meet his eyes. Because then he'd see how weak you actually are, sneered your inner voice.

"You gonna tell me what's going on?"

"I'm -"

"Yeah no," he interrupted. "Don't tell me you're fine because I know you aren't."

You were silent because you knew that if you opened your mouth to speak, you wouldn't be able to stop from breaking down completely.

"I don't belong here." You whispered around the lump in your throat.

Your heart sank, expecting him to scoff or throw out a cliched affirmation like the ones you'd heard your entire life:

"Of course you belong!"

"We're here for you."

"Keep your head up. It'll get better soon."

Empty promises from people who only pretended to care just enough to placate your needy anxieties. Just enough to seem polite. But Echo was silent.

"What makes you think that you don't belong?" He asked quietly.

"I..." You choked, unable to keep back the tears any longer. You felt heavier than ever. "I'm not smart like Tech or strong like Wrecker. I can't fight like Hunter or slice code like you." Your chest bucked in a futile attempt to hold back the sobs. "Even...even Omega is more useful than me."

Your breath came in jagged gasps as tears fell hot and heavy down your face, soaking the knees of your trousers where your head rested, arms curled protectively around your legs.

"I can't...." You gasped, lips tingling with the all too familiar numbness of panic, fingernails drawing blood from your tightly clenched fists.

"Listen to me." Echo was speaking but he sounded muffled - far away.

"Hey." He called your name, putting a hand on your arm. His voice was firm and unwavering, but it held a genuine kindness. His voice was grounding.

"Echo?" You whispered shakily.

"Yeah. Im here." His flesh hand squeezing your shoulder provided a strange sense of comfort. "Just breathe, okay? Ill do it with you."

Slowly your breaths began to sync with his.

In. Out. In. Out.

Echo sat beside you silently. He didnt bother to ask if you were alright again. He knew you weren't - and that was okay. Sometimes all you needed was a friend. Silent support - though it broke his heart that you thought you weren't useful.

"Can you stay here with me for awhile?" You whispered, taking another shuddering breath.

"We can stay out here as long as you need to." He replied and you nodded gratefully.

He opened his mouth, then paused, closing it again as though there was something he wanted to say but thought better of it. He shook his head. No. This was important.

"I dont think you're useless." He uttered quietly. You lifted your eyes. Where you'd expected pity, you found only Echo's hard gaze of sincerity.

"In all honesty, we'd have fallen apart a long time ago if you weren't here."

You scoffed and looked down, not meeting his eyes, but Echo continued as if he hadn't heard.

"You're the one who Omega comes to at night when she has a nightmare. Not me, not Hunter or Wrecker or Tech. You." He softly chuckled to himself. "You're the only one who managed to pull a smile from Crosshair after we got him back. Crosshair. Our snarky, pissed-off-sniper of a brother. You got him to smile after all he'd been through."

You still refused to look up at Echo, but the sound of his voice was soothing.

"And Hunter said that the headset you built gave him the best night sleep in a long time. Sure, Tech helped you build it....but it was your idea."

He gently paused, watching your shuddering breaths slowly give way to calmer ones.

"...and," he began again hesitantly and stopped. Then with the confidence of the ARC trooper he was, he continued. "You dont take shit from anyone. No wonder Wrecker always partners with you on missions. You're tough. And you're smart. I've seen you take hits that would probably take me out, and you bounce right back up. Yeah, maybe you don't speak up a lot but I've seen your strategies at work in the field. You help keep us together. As a team, and as a family. So don't you dare think that you're useless, because you're not!"

Echo trailed off into an awkward silence as though realizing you probably didn't want all this. He hadn't meant to get so passionate towards the end. You blew it, Echo. Now she thinks you're just patronizing her.

"Echo?"

He raised his eyes to meet yours, dragging himself from those nagging anxious thoughts.

A faint smile tugged at your lips. "Thank you."

Echo squeezed your shoulder again. It would be a while before the weight lifted from your chest, but for now you could settle in the silence next to your best friend.

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

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[arden-au]

── that feeling when

enhypen x gn!reader | fluff

a/n: inspired by their newest song tfw (that feeling when), it's a cute song so this came out of listening to it and reading the english lyrics. basically just sweet or cute moments with enhypen! this is also my 100 followers celebration post! tysm for the support even after i switched blogs, i'm forever grateful for everyone. anyways hope you enjoy as always, and more under the cut ♡

heeseung

heeseung hands you a cold can of soda, plopping beside you and the fan you've settled near. it's really hot out and the two of you have taken refuge near the cold wind from the fan. he wipes the beads of sweat from his forehead as he leans on your own head. the soft buzz from the cicadas can be heard as you both enjoy the clear skies from your bedroom window. you take a sip of your drink while fanning yourself in an attempt to cool down. "you know what would help us cool off?" he starts, your eyes meeting his own as he speaks. you raise your brow in confusion, wondering what could be going through his head. "don't look at me like that, I was just gonna suggest making shaved ice desserts" he suggests, mirroring your furrowed brow. you blush immediately and his words and shake your furiously before shoving him away playfully. "w-whatever let's just go make something cold to eat" you stutter, your playful boyfriend following after you with a chuckle. he reaches for your arm, pulling you back to him to press a quick to your forehead, just so he can see your embarrassed face and redden cheeks. (but you didn't hear that from me)

jay

you're studying in the living room, humming to yourself as you go over your notes for what feels like the 3rd time that hour. you're sitting on the rug in front of the couch, your headphones quietly playing your study playlists. jay was sleeping in the bedroom, recovering from working late from the night before. as much as you wanted to continue sleeping beside him, tests we're coming up and just wanted to get over studying for the rest of the day and without bothering him. at least that's what you thought, your normally heavy sleeper of a boyfriend stood near the arm of the couch, his eye mask messily resting on his forehead and his hand scratching the back of his neck. you met his tired eyes, unable to figure out what he was thinking. "sorry jay, i don't i was being too loud but i'll keep it down" you apologize quickly, which is met with a quick shake of his head. "just wanted to be near you" he mumbles, taking his spot on the couch and laying down. his hand rests on your shoulder and he presses a quick kiss to your forehead before getting comfortable and closing his eyes. you blush, silently continuing your studying but leaning your head on his hand gently. yeah, i guess you wanted him to be near you too.

jake

"hurry jake!" you tug jake by his arms towards the carnival entrance, already excited to go on the corny rides and enjoy the food. he wears a bright smile mirroring yours, just as excited as you to finally go on this type of dates. it was a cool summer day, wind dancing with you as you make it to the viking coaster while swinging your linked hands together. your smiles don't waver the entire day, infectious laughter following suit. you swear you've gone on all the rides at this point so you finally you pull him away for a break; jake leans against a tree on edge of carnival lot with you leaning against him. a frozen drink in your hand, a soft happy sigh leaving your lips. the evening brings a warm sunset to greet you both, jake wrapping his arms around your torso and resting his head on your shoulder blade. you both are silent as listen to the carnival music and chatter of the others, quietly enjoying the feeling of being close to one another.

sunghoon

"sunghoon stop it!" you laugh, returning the water being splashed at your by your boyfriend who's also sharing your laughter. it's the summertime, and the two of you are cooling off in the water at the beach. he said would play nice during the car ride, but clearly wasn't by how soaked you were without even diving into the water. you attempt to get away from him, spotting your beach towels and the bright red umbrella where your items stayed. "where do you think you're going?" he asks with a smug grin, tackling you and falling into the water with you. he holds you close as you both come back for air, arms looping around your waist loosely. you glare at him playfully, though mirroring his bright smile as you cups his cheeks for a quick kiss. which leads to another, and another... till you exact your revenge by splashing his face. though you finally settle it when he buys you mango shaved ice from the food stalls, a hopeful holding the icy treat with his lips puckered playfully. you roll your eyes, peck his lips a few times before tugging him towards a place to sit.

sunoo

"sunoo stop taking photos and hurry up" you whine as you turn around to your boyfriend no longer right beside you but at the crosswalk, sunoo looking at you apologetically before catching up with you. he smiles to himself at the photos he took of you, already thinking of which one to make his new wallpaper and the one he'd print onto a polaroid to add to the others in his album. he just really enjoyed taking photos, especially ones of you that just took a snapshot of what he was so lucky to see on a daily basis. you always rant to him about how he should stick to taking selfies, which he rolls his eyes at. "i'm your number one fan (y/n) so i'm just making sure you know how beautiful you look" he replies nonchalantly, showing you one of the many photos he was already favouriting. totally doesn't skip over the videos he has of you snoring, i don't know what you're talking about.

jungwon

jungwon watches as you get excited as you near the arcade, holding his hand a bit tighter as you finally stand in front of the neon lights signaling the entrance. he swears the same look doesn't leave your face as go around to see what games and prizes were to be won at the price counter. "jungwon we have to win that" you point eagerly at the plush penguin with a bowtie. he laughs as he follows you around, celebrating each win with small pecks to your lips. it did take a few tries, but the both of you finally manage to get the said plush. you happily pose with it for a photo with him, your smile making his heart swell. he pats you on the head, "so lets get some ice cream?" he suggested, already following after your figure in what he assumed was the direction of the ice cream shop. he let out a laugh, watching you dance on the empty streets with your plushie as your dance partner. the light illuminating your path and jungwon's just admiring you for a bit. 'yeah, this feeling was nice' he thought to himself, before jogging ahead to catch up with you.

niki

you're on the rooftop of your highschool, enjoying the soft wind and the spring weather. you're laying in his lap while niki reads the latest manga he's gotten from the store the day before, while snacking on gummy bears as you both enjoy each other's presence. you feel goosebumps form on your arms, the strong breeze tickling your skin as you gaze upwards at the sky. you poke his thigh a few times, niki already hovering a few of the candies near your mouth. you snack on them happily as he doesn't spare a glance, only moving his eyes away from his manga when you comment on the cat shaped cloud moving through the sky. though he doesn't look upwards, but towards your innocent face and your sparkling eyes. he smiles warmly, leaning down to kiss your forehead before humming in response to your words. he feels at peace when he enjoys his afternoons with you.

taglist [open!]: @hell1cy @wtfhyuck @wonielvr likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen timestamps #enhypen x gn reader #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #jungwon x reader #sunoo x reader #niki x reader #enhypen soft hours

[quindolyn]

hi can i request the maurauders going to see the reader do a musical like heathers or mean girls and they are just confused and turned on bc they didn't expect it to be this dirty (can lead to smut or not). luv you and hope you are taking care of yourself, if not go get something to eat, drink some water, take a nap, or do somthing you enjoy. or dont not trying to be pushy :)

Creature of the Night || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 3029 (excluding song lyrics)

A/N: I think I liked how this turned out? I didn’t make it smut but it’s certainly suggestive, I went with Rocky Horror, I know that the musicals mentioned in the request are more modern but I fucking love Rocky Horror and I think it works with the request. When I first read this request I smiled so much because I love live theater, I don’t perform as much as I used to because as I progress with my education I’m focusing more on the stuff I can use to pad my resumes for college and stuff but I still love going to see productions. One of the worst parts of the pandemic for me has been not being able to go see shows, I miss it so much.

Warnings: theatre enthusiast reader, erections, suggestive material, song lyrics, slight teasing, wearing very little clothing in front of an audience, I believe that that is it

Masterlist

500 follower celebration

antici-

The magic of the stage was second to none. Sure, Hogwarts may have had witches and wizards, subjects like Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, and ghosts that spent their time meandering about the halls but there was always a part of you that looked forward to the summer between your years at Hogwarts. Because no matter how magical Hogwarts was, the theater always made you feel completely and utterly alive. 

Every summer since the one after your first year at what all of your muggle friends thought to be a very prestigious boarding school up in Scotland, you’d taken part in your local youth theater’s productions. Your parents both being muggles thought that it would be a great way for you to be able to stay in touch with your muggle origins. 

The first year you’d been far too nervous to actually audition for a role, the very thought causing bile to churn in your stomach and threaten to make you sick all over your kitchen floor when your father first pitched the idea. So instead you’d done costumes and it was the most wonderful experience of your life. 

Who needed drugs when you had live theater? The hustle and bustle behind the scenes was electrifying but after two summers of costuming, of quick changes in the wings, learning how to use the ancient sewing machines they stored in the depths of the storage rooms, and pulling pieces for the actors to try on you decided that you wanted to try something more.

The moment you had stepped onto the stage it was like you’d come to life and you cursed yourself for not taking the risk earlier. You belonged on the stage, with the harsh stage lights on you and pounds of makeup plastered onto your face you could feel the magic thrumming through your veins and it was addicting.

If it was possible, you were even more excited to perform this summer, the previous school year you’d finally gotten together with your long time best friends the Marauders, turning them from friends to your boyfriends.

When your mother had sent word of the production being put on this summer you’d squealed while seated next to James and across from Remus, who had Sirius hanging off of his side. After explaining to them, mostly Sirius and James really, just what live theater was their first reaction was to ask if they could come see you perform.

“I don’t even know if I’m going to be cast,” You had explained gently, not wanting to get their hopes up in case you weren’t cast this year.

“Bull shit of course you’re going to be the cast,” Sirius had contested through a mouthful of jam and toast, waving his hand theatrically through the air, watching him that day was not the first time you’d considered how the way he acted often reminded you of an over enthusiastic theatre major.

Remus, the only one with any knowledge on muggle theatre had snorted, wrapping an arm around Sirius’ waist to pull him closer to his body, “She’s not going to be the cast Pads, she’s going to be casted,” He’d corrected gently, pressing a kiss into his long, dark tresses.

“Whatever,” The smaller boy had grumbled, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

Which brought you to where you were right now, five minutes to curtain touching up your make up in the mirror of the shared make-up room.

“Hey (L/N),” One of your cast mates called settling into the makeup chair next to you as she plucked a tube of dark red lipstick from the small canary colored makeup bag she had previously abandoned on the counter, “Your boyfriends coming tonight?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Yeah, they are,” You responded, applying mascara to your lashes.

“Excited to meet them, that photo you showed us,” She smiled, fanning her face with her hand, “Smoking,” She smiled, making eye contact with you in the mirror.

Rolling your eyes you ignored her comment, “It’s five minutes to curtain, you’re just now doing your make-up?” You chuckled, noticing her black face.

“Oh, shove it,” She laughed as you pushed yourself from your chair, traipsing out of the room, giving her the middle finger on your way out.

“Break a leg!” She called after you as the door latched shut.

You weren’t usually this nervous before a performance but knowing that your three boyfriends were sitting out there somewhere in the audience had you pacing back and forth backstage wondering what they were going to think of the whole production.

“Rocky Horror?” Sirius’ confusion evident in his voice as he plopped down in his seat next to Remus, throwing his arm around the werewolf’s shoulders, drumming his fingers on his clothed shoulder hidden behind his knitted cardigan.

“Yeah,” James collapsed into his chair on the other side of Remus, tucking one leg under his body, “No clue what it’s about but I’m sure our angel will be wonderful. Can you guys see her?” He straightened himself up in his seat, craning his neck in attempts to catch a glimpse of you.

Remus being the only one with any ties to the muggle world knew a bit about the show and had to do his very best to suppress a smirk from overtaking his face as he knew exactly what he and your other two boyfriends were getting themselves into. 

“Just hush up you two, the show’s gonna start any moment,” He scolded, patting his large, scarred hand on James’ thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Rem,” Sirius whined, puckering his lips and closing his eyes, signaling to his boyfriend that he wanted a kiss.

“My needy baby,” He crooned, leaning in to connect his lips with Sirius’ in a quick liplock before pulling back, allowing Sirius to drop his forehead to smear against his shoulder.

“That’s mean,” Sirius murmured discontentedly.

“Poor baby Pads,” James cooed mockingly.

“Both of you,” Remus hissed as the lights in the theatre dimmed, “The show’s about to start, be good for me and be quiet yeah?”

Their response came in their silence as the crowd started settling down and the music from the orchestra pit began a voice coming from somewhere out of sight as it was played through the speakers,

“Michael Rennie was ill

The day the earth stood still

But he told us where we stand”

Not 20 minutes into the show all three of them were as hard as rocks, James had already made Remus check the playbill for the name of the character you were playing, not being able to remember what you’d told them as all of his concentration was focused on a certain place.

Janet Weiss.

Remus couldn’t remember either, but he was almost certain that’s the name he could make out in the dark theatre, printed next to a picture of your smiling face.

When you’d stripped down to your underwear the boys could barely focus on the plot line of the show, only being able to watch the way your bare skin shone under the harsh light of the spotlights. Watching as sweat glistened on your skin, making you shine as you moved about the stage. 

Enchanted by the melodic cadence of your voice they all felt a certain jealousy burning deep in the pits on their stomachs at the thought that there were dozens of other people packed into that theater, all observing you in your vulnerable state of under dress. Only they got to see you like that.

Sirius missed much of the first act glaring at members of the audience who he deemed as looking at you for too long for his liking, but if you were being honest a 4th year smiling at you in the hallway was sometimes too long for his liking.

It wasn’t like any of them had never seen you naked before, in fact they’d all seen you naked more than their fair share of times but something about you on that stage in a white bra with a matching slip was driving them all crazy.

Especially Remus, whose ultimate weakness was seeing you in anything white which was one of the reasons you’d been so excited to invite them in the first place, knowing that they would be horny messes the entire time.

On stage you did your very best not to look out into the audience looking for them, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to stop a ginormous grin from forming on your face and you couldn’t afford to break character. Not if you wanted the night to go your way.

As the opening notes to “Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me”, rose from the orchestra pit you had trouble stopping a small smirk from pulling at your lips as you opened them, inhaling deeply before singing the first words of the song,

“I was feeling done in, couldn't win

I'd only ever kissed before”

Despite yourself you caught a glimpse of long dark hair in the audience, quickly taking a glance at Sirius’ face, eyes glazed over in lust, legs shifting uncomfortably with his mouth hanging wide open. 

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed another raven-haired boy’s mouth dropping as you shrugged off of your robe

“I thought there’s no use getting, into heavy petting

It only leads to trouble and, seat wetting

Now all I want to know, is how to go

I've tasted blood and I want more”

It was impossible to miss the way Remus’ jaw clenched as you laid your palm against Rocky’s chest, he was being played by your good friends who’d been working with the same theatre company as you since forever, he was like a brother to you. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t lay it on extra thick tonight with your boyfriends in the audience.

Tracing a dainty finger down Rocky’s chest you pushed your body against his singing out the next lyrics of the song,

“I've got an itch to scratch, I need assistance”

You turned you and your cast mate so that looking over his shoulder you were able to meet Remus’ eye, sending him a quick wink before focusing back in on Rocky.

“Toucha, toucha, toucha, touch me

I wanna be dirty

Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me

Creature of the night”

Pressing your back up against Rocky’s chest you guided his hands with yours to your breasts, squeezing them as you followed the choreography you knew by heart.

You ripped your slip from your body with the help of Rocky leaving you in only your white bra, matching panties and a pair of small heels as you paraded around stage, belting the suggestive lyrics into the theater.

“Then if anything grows, while you pose

I'll oil you up and rub you down (down, down, down)

And that’s just one small fraction, of the main attraction

You need a friendly hand, oh i need action”

You smirked, thinking about all of the action you’d be on the receiving end of later that night as you sunk to your knees in front of Rocky, your hands grasping his thighs. Deciding to tease them perhaps a little more than necessary as you went through the number, curling your leg around his and pressing your bodies together so that there was no space between your two questionably clothed bodies.

As the number was brought to a close it was impossible for you to ignore the excitement bubbling up inside of you as you continued your way through the show you kept throwing glances at your boyfriends, always finding their eyes already trained on you. More often than not, on some body part other than your face.

If your boyfriends thought that they had a bit of a problem before that song they were in a terrible predicament now.

Remus caught Sirius on multiple occasions trying to move the hand that he was holding to grope at his crotch as he tried to buck up into his boyfriend’s hand. And much to his own dismay, Remus would pull his hand away, thinking it probably wasn’t the best idea to give his boyfriend a hand job in a crowded theater. Knowing that he wouldn’t have to worry about James touching himself because he would never dream of disobeying him, Remus divided his attention between you on the stage and keeping Sirius in check.

Each of the boys were counting down the seconds until the show came to an end and they could get out of there and relieve some of their tension.  As the curtains were pulled closed they all breathed a sigh of relief before they reopened, leaving all three of them bewildered and slightly annoyed, even more so when they noticed everyone around them standing as they applauded the actors.

Remus forced both of them up when you rushed to the front of the stage, curtsying as the crowd went wild, your boyfriends most notably. As you took your bow you blew a kiss to your boyfriends taking note of the uncomfortable way they all stood, trying to adjust their erections to make them less noticeable while simultaneously applauding you.

As you cleared the stage after curtain call you took your time, doddling towards the dressing rooms where you had left the clothes you’d arrived at the theater in along with a special outfit you’d brought for after the show. Usually you were one of the first actors to clear the theater after a show but tonight you took your time. Hanging up your costume with more care than anyone really should treat any garment with and certainly more than what it needed. 

You smirked mischievously as you pulled the you’d brought outfit from your bag and shimmied it up your legs before slipping the delicate straps up your shoulders. You glimpsed yourself in the mirror, the red satin of the dress clinging to your curves in an attractive manner, short enough to display miles of legs and low cut enough to show off a decent amount of cleavage and perhaps a sighting of the matching red bra you were wearing beneath it.

Slinging the back of your black heels over the heel of your feet you snatched your purse from the armchair in your dressing room before striding out to go meet your boyfriends in the lobby, where you’d told them to wait for you.

Their heads all turned as they heard the clacking of your heels against the tile of the floor, “Boys,” You greeted as they unabashedly took in your new appearance.

As he most often was, Remus was the first one to collect himself, “Puppy, you were wonderful,” He praised, walking to meet you as you approached him, leaning down to smear a kiss against your cheek, “You did amazing up there, so proud of you,” He threw his arm around your waist as you walked towards Sirius and James.

“We got something for you,” He explained, his grip on your waist tightening, “Jamie give it to her, yeah?” 

“Oh yeah,” The smaller boy grinned, remembering the bouquet he held cradled in his arms as he handed it over to you, “Here you go angel.”

“Thank you Jamie,” You said as you took it from him, closing your eyes as you buried your nose in the sweet smelling flora. As you opened your eyes you made eye contact with Sirius, who stood across from you, practically drooling as he took in your appearance without any shame, “They smell wonderful.”

“You okay Si?” You asked, looking up through your eyelashes, batting them innocently.

“Like you don’t know exactly what you did up there to us (Y/N/N),” Remus whispered in your ear, pressing his nose into your temple.

“You guys are the ones who wanted to come,” You lilted, rubbing one of the velvety petals between the pads of your thumb and forefinger.

“Could’ve warned us,” James mumbled, his eyes not leaving your thighs as he licked his lips, if it were anyone else you would’ve been uncomfortable but you couldn’t help but feel flattered whenever any of them ogled you. 

“And what’s with the dress Pup?” Sirius nodded his head appreciatively towards your dress, obviously admiring the way it hung on your body.

“What, you don’t like it?” You asked with fake hurt in your voice, knowing that he more than liked it, he fucking loved it. 

“S’not that,” Remus mumbled, nosing at your jugular, “Just that whole show, got us a little bit worked up. We didn’t expect it to be so sexual Puppy,” He nodded towards James and that’s when you noticed the erection he was still sporting. 

“Got us really worked up, can we go home now?” James asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, trying to distract himself from his little problem.

“Jamie,” You whined, smiling wickedly, “I wanted to celebrate, I was thinking we could go eat somewhere, I was thinking maybe Thai food?”

You watched as Sirius ground his teeth, conflicted between needing to get home and not wanting to deny you from what you wanted. 

“Having fun teasing us Bunny?” Remus asked you with a sly smirk, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“M’not teasing,” You insisted, turning indignantly to your other boyfriend.

“Sure you aren’t,” He chuckled, “Thai sounds great (Y/N), wanna talk with you about the show,” The idea of teasing Sirius and James even longer was very appealing to Remus and he was ready to make the sacrifice of being teased himself, knowing that he’d be able to get back at you later that night.

“But-” James began.

“You wanna argue with me Jamie?” Remus challenged, raising a singular eyebrow.

“No,” He moped, “Of course not.”

“Good,” Remus said, nodding his head approvingly, “We wouldn’t wanna deny our Princess would we?”

James shook his head, eyes pleading, desperately seeking Remus’ approval.

“Pads?” Remus challenged, turning his attention to the other raven haired man.

“What? Oh um, of course not,” He agreed distractedly, dragging his eyes from your form to meet Remus’, his reluctance evident in his voice.

“Good,” Remus said pointedly, his eyes cold, daring Sirius to question him. When he didn’t the werewolf continued, “Let’s get going then, there’s a nice little restaurant a couple blocks away yeah?”

As you all hummed your consent you made your way to the exit, “Ten galleons if you can make James cum in his pants at dinner,” Remus whispered in your ear quietly enough so that  James and Sirius trailing behind you wouldn’t be able to hear you, you could hear the smirk in his voice as you exited the theatre.

“Deal.” This was going to be fun, you considered that you might have to invite them to come see the show again.

-pation

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete

#harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter imagine #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #remus lupin #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fanfiction

[s-brant]

Angels Roll Their Eyes (2/2)

(gif: @toesure) (PART ONE)

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

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

Word Count: 24k

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

Hurricane Agatha.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you smiling about?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?" she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He isn't sure why she buys into it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

JJ misses her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Weird in what way?"

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

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

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

She sighs.

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

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

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

That part is the most fuzzy in her mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gotta catch me first!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They tried.

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

It was simple in the beginning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the fuck?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because what?" he asks.

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

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

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

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

There it is.

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

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

Her heart sinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

He doesn't miss a beat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then prove it."

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

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

"Okay."

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

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

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

"Do I make you nervous?" she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The wind rattles the windows over the couch with its force and she notices that his hips grind into hers at the sudden sound. Even in the midst of such a heated moment, it's downright cute how he still makes an effort to distract her from what she fears. And, boy, does it work.

Their panting breaths in the brief seconds they allow themselves to break away from each other are the only sounds audible in the small living room. The storm drowns it all out for now, including the noises that start to leave them from the steadily building pleasure of their bodies moving together.

She can feel how hard he is through the layers that separate them with every absentminded thrust that brushes the fabric of her panties up against her clit each time. It leaves her breathless and wondering, despite already knowing, what it'll feel like when he finally slips inside of her again.

They both fantasized about it in the time they spent apart. Neither of them would dare deny it, least of all JJ. It actually became frustrating after a while because she started to become the only scenario he could conjure to get himself off when he had a rare moment of privacy. His fantasies, all stemming from the night that was so perfect, he began to question the reality of it, linger in his head.

The best part of his fantasies were the parts of them based in truth, and if he knows anything about her when she's in this state, it's that she's needy. Her tongue swipes along his bottom lip in a silent urging to let her deepen the kiss, and he complies without a second to spare, willing to entertain her every whim so long as she keeps being so good for him.

He revels in her muffled squeak of a moan when he presses down on the sides of her throat at the precise moment his hips grind down to meet hers. She can't keep herself still for any longer than a half-second, always meeting his movements halfway and unknowingly doing another thing that will be the death of him.

She leads his shirt up his body without having to second guess herself, knowing that he's always on the same wavelength as her no matter what. This was how it was the last time too. Anything she did, he was already one step ahead, and tonight isn't much different. By the time her hands ball up the dripping cotton fabric, JJ is lifting the hand off of her neck to reach for the neckline of the shirt and help tug it off.

There's a sense of urgency in everything they do. Charged up with frustration and jealousy that brewed within the days they spent apart, there's nothing to stop them from reducing themselves to a pair of panting, impatient lovers too consumed in each other to care about the outside world.

The sopping wet fabric is thrown beyond her line of sight and lands on the hardwood floor with a 'thwack' that accompanies their cacophony of moans and gasps, and she whimpers at the sight of him. It may have to do with the fact that he's guiding their bodies together at a cadence and pressure perfect enough to make her legs tremble, but seeing him like this does nothing but aid the sensation.

Golden skin glistening under the candlelight, tendrils of half-dry blonde hair falling into his face with the lazy effort of his movements, and a stray raindrop that squeezed from the wet shirt dripping down his chest...she's not gonna make it out of tonight alive, is she? In her memory, she knew he was a sight to see in the midst of a heated moment, but, fuck, memories do not hold up beside the real experience of it.

Y/N is so caught up in his seemingly endless beauty, she doesn't notice him peeling her damp denim shorts off of her hips until they're halfway down her legs, and the only reason she does notice is because he must shift his position to do it. Suddenly, the budding feeling that stirred from their needy antics is plucked away and left to ache for more in the absence of him between her thighs.

Her middle and index fingers hook around the front of his necklace to pull him back down to her, but he doesn't budge at first. He's too busy trying to rid her of her shirt to care.

It was too much of a distraction while they kissed for him to resist slipping it off of her when he got the chance to. Much to his frustration when he first realized they were trapped with each other, she's braless underneath, and it's only worse now that the t-shirt is soaked to her skin and clinging to every delicate curve.

Once the clothing gives way to the canvas of her bare skin, he submits to her urgency and follows her down by the fingers hooked around his necklace without any qualms.

As soon as they resume, it's as if they never stopped to begin with, and they start to realize how seamlessly they fit together as the seconds elapse. Neither of them are actively thinking about it while he dips his hand into the front of her panties, but it is in their subconscious.

It's a revelation of sorts, an ah-ha moment where it hits them both in a sweeping realization that it was obvious from the day they met. They should've known sooner, they should've dropped their pride and admitted it as soon as the first inklings of desire began to pop up, but they didn't. Instead, it washes over them now and they let the current take them away together.

Her mouth falls open against his cheek at the feeling of his fingers swiping through the arousal that pools in her underwear for him, dragging the wetness over his fingertips and spreading it up to brush fleetingly against her clit. It's a split-second of a touch that it makes her hips lift up off the floor on their own accord to seek out more. It makes her dig her nails into the skin stretching over his taut shoulder muscles in a wordless plea for more that he doesn't indulge her in at first.

He makes her earn it from him without having to say a single word. He touches her, but he doesn't touch where she wants or ease his fingers into her to satisfy the need she feels yet. It's a blessing and a curse that he manages to turn her on to such an extent. He does it for her like nothing else can, so much so that she's noticed a distinct difference in how it feels when she's alone versus when they're together. When she's alone, it can tend to feel like active effort, but when she's with him, it's as natural as the urge to breathe.

His smirk is felt against her skin the entire time she begs for it through the revealing actions of her body—her hips jerking up toward him, her chest pressing tightly to his, and the sound of her murmuring, "Please," in a breathy tone that could stop his heart.

"Tell me what you want," JJ says, every word constrained and tight in a way that tells her he's a lot less composed than he lets on, and "accidentally" swipes his thumb over her clit again. "Talk to me, baby."

She almost forgot in their time apart how much of an effect he has on her, but this is the best reminder of that she could possibly imagine. If she could, she would find a way to bottle the feeling he gives her and keep it with her forever so that, no matter what happens between them, she'll never have the misfortune of forgetting him.

What he said simultaneously melts her heart and frustrates her to no end because he knows! He knows damn well what she wants from him and won't give it to her unless she asks for it, and she hates herself for loving it. She hates herself for enjoying the flushed-face embarrassment it brings to her cheeks to be so open with him about what she needs.

She swallows the lump in her throat and tries to focus through the clouded landscape of her head to speak to him. It's hard to concentrate when he's above her like this, touching her, calling her pet names, and looking at her like that.

With his lips worshiping the sensitive skin along her neck, she finds it hard to choke out the words, "I want you," into the humid air that has infiltrated the house.

It's not a lie. Anything regarding her wanting him or any related feeling is no longer something she can hide anymore, but they both know it isn't exactly what he wanted. No matter how it took his breath away to hear her say it, he was seeking something more specific. He was aiming to make her ask, maybe even beg, for it. They're both too impatient to wait and based on how wet his fingertips are from barely dipping into her, he can tell she's as eager as he is.

It's been thirteen days too long since the last time they allowed themselves to meet this way, and neither of them wants to let it happen again.

She was nearly trembling with the urge to go to him whenever they were together in the company of their friends, unable to think about anything except for how badly she wanted him. All the while, he appeared so unbothered, especially on the night of the party when he flirted with someone else, that she didn't even believe he felt the same way back. Thankfully for her, she couldn't have been more wrong.

He clicks his tongue and says, still teasing her with light touches that never linger in one place for too long, "That wasn't very specific."

Part of her should know that he's about to do something based on how he withdraws his head from its cherished place in the crook of her neck, but she's too caught up in the anticipation and seeing his face for the first time in a minute to think about it. How dare he look so good? She could cry in frustration, although she might actually already be tearing up a little with the rush of neediness hitting her in its full force.

Never has she felt so turned on by so little physical contact before. It usually takes longer for her to get to this point, whether it be alone or in the past with previous partners, yet all it took was being kissed, touched, and being given his undivided attention and now...She realizes she's in trouble. He has her in an emotional and sexual chokehold at this point, and she fears that no one can compare.

"I want—" her voice is snuffed out in an instant when he eases two fingers into her, "Oh!"

So that's why he pulled away from her neck to look at her.

It was worth abandoning the mark forming on her neck just to see the expression on her face shift. She gets this cute look when anything overwhelming starts to happen where her brows scrunch a little to create a soft wrinkle between them as her mouth drops open in a moan. And after ten steady minutes of doing nothing but some over the clothes action and painstaking teasing, this is as overwhelming as it gets without it crossing the line to being too much.

It never occurred to her how much larger his fingers are compared to hers until now. This type of pleasure is like an itch only someone else can scratch to her, she feels virtually nothing when she does it to herself, but when he does it, it's like an explosive being set off inside of her. Especially with the thumb that sneaks up to circle her clit without stopping to tease her again, she is putty in his hands at this point.

Every smooth stroke of his fingers into her reaches a spot she can never quite find on her own, and she can feel the cold bite of rings when they're buried into her to the knuckle.

It's a surprise every time, even when she knows to expect it. Like a delightful chill running up through her body and down her spine exactly how it's intended to. It strikes an idea in her head for when he eventually pulls them out of her, conjuring the image of her sucking them clean for him just for the sake of imagining what it'll do to him.

With that idea tucked away in the back of her mind, he's the center of her world right now. All she breathes, thinks, and feels is him. Whether it be the sight of him, or the feelings he's giving her, or even the taste of his kiss that still lingers on her tongue, it connects to one common thread.

"What were you saying?" JJ asks, and she wants to wipe that smirk right off his face.

It's virtually impossible for her to piece together a coherent thought, let alone a sentence detailing every filthy idea she has for him, but she tries. It takes another moment or two of her succumbing to the rapid incline of pleasure that he gives her, watching her in wonder through any greedy buck of her hips or gasping inhale that makes her head loll back onto the floor.

At first, what she wanted to say was that she wanted him to touch her, to do anything more than the fleeting touches he gave before. Now, she wants more than that. Now that she's drawn in closer to the eventual high that's to come, she doesn't want it to happen like this. She wants to feel closer to him than this, wants to feel him throb inside of her and fuck her with all of the urgency and desperation that has accumulated in their time apart.

That's why her hands start to grab at the belt loops of his shorts to tug him closer by them, meeting his gaze through the hazy bliss of his fingers pumping into her. It's not enough.

"Please"—she keeps pulling him closer to her, so close that there's hardly any space left to cross, and he revels in her desperation—"just fuck me already..."

Internally, JJ is losing his shit.

Though this was what he wanted, what he coaxed out of her with the teasing and the pretend sense of a nonchalant attitude on his part, it hits him harder than he expected it to to hear her say it. It's not necessarily the act of begging itself either, it's the fact that she's the one doing it. She may have been jealous of the girl at the party, but she had nothing to worry about. Not in the slightest.

Before her, he never thought he'd fall for someone this way. It's not like he had a hatred for love or anything, he understood the appeal, it simply wasn't his thing.

He was perfectly content with his only form of companionship being his friends. Then, she came along and changed it. So to hear her say something like that isn't just breathtaking, it's the kind of thing that makes his heart ache for her. It hits him precisely where she wanted it to, and he has never felt as consumed with love the way he does now.

JJ can do nothing to stop himself from pouncing on her at this point, like some animalistic form of himself has worn down the restraint he used to keep himself at bay.

The loss she feels when his fingers slip away from her is an emptiness she mourns at first before she realizes what's happening. He pulls away slightly to reach down between them for the front of his shorts, and their hands clash as they both frantically try to undo them together. The rings adorning his fingers glisten when they catch the light and remind her of the thought that popped into her head when she first felt their coldness against her skin.

That idea paired with the promise of what they're trying to accomplish in their uncoordinated attempt to get the rest of their clothes off makes her want to press her thighs together. Her hands abandon the task of undoing his shorts for the sake of ridding herself of the last layer that separates her from him.

Her most embarrassing old pair of brightly colored panties, courtesy of past Y/N's questionable decision to trust her mom to buy some on her behalf, are hardly a sight to behold. They're the kind that come in a value pack from Walmart, vibrant blue with the word, "Tuesday," printed on the front of them, and she could hide her face into the rug in shame if she weren't so determined to get them off. Of all the days to wear the day of the week undies her mom accidentally got her, of course she chose today.

By the time she reaches for the waistband, he has pushed his shorts and underwear down his thighs and comes back to her with just as much excitement as he left with, but when he helps her tug her panties down her legs, he laughs. Apparently, he had also been too eager to touch her to notice what was written on them before.

"Cute," he breathes out through a laugh, then adds as the cotton fabric slips over her knees, "Pretty sure it's not Tuesday though."

"If you tell anyone, I swear I'll—"

He cuts her off, "Whatever you wanna threaten me with won't work, chances are I'm gonna be into it."

Her eyes are alight with a certain fire he's had yet to fully lure out of her. Even her voice is slightly more airy and seductive as a result of it.

"Promise?"

JJ grins down at her as he finally tosses her panties aside with the rest of their clothes, "Cross my heart, pretty girl."

His hands grip her thighs and tug her down the  rug to him with a quick jolt that snaps them out of the playful nature of their back and forth teasing. No matter how lighthearted of an interruption it was, the mini-conversation might as well have never existed for how easily they fall back into it again.

She watches with her forehead pressed against his as he strokes himself a few times, then drags his tip, messy with precome, through her wet heat. And though she watches it happen, her body still arches into his when he lines up with her and sinks his hips forward.

She anticipated it, but she still gasps and digs her nails into his biceps at the sensation of him pushing into her. Neither of them bothers to worry about the obvious lack of a condom—it was discussed the first time around when he offered and she told him it was okay. He's often the one to silence the alarm on her phone warning her in its title to, "Take your birth control or else, bitch," while she searches her bag for it anyway, so he trusts her.

Both of them prefer it this way enough to risk the  minuscule failure rate of the pill anyway. It's more intimate, closer, and they can both feel the warmth of each other in a way that would've been somewhat muted with an added layer between them. It makes the feeling of him entering her all the more gratifying as she tenses up around him in reaction, drawing a groan from where his parted lips brush against hers.

She lifts her head off of the floor as much as she can to capture his mouth with her own and stifle the sonorous sound despite the storm doing a better job of it.

It seems that every blast of wind and roll of thunder is in their favor tonight, so much so that he isn't even worried about getting walked in on. It's not a thought in his head at this point, the only thought he's capable of having is this. Forgive him for being shortsighted, but he doesn't give a shit if John B notices or hears what's happening when he's buried inside of her so deeply.

His hips are flush with the backs of her thighs in a matter of seconds, and right when he pauses to give her a breather, he feels her shake her head ever so slightly against where their faces are pressed together.

The touch of her hands on his hips is not timid by any means, it's commanding. Her palm prints singe an indelible claim into the surface of his skin as she guides him to start moving without a second spared to dwindle the discomfort of him filling her up. It's less like a pain and more of a pressure blooming from the insistent presence of him, not so overwhelming that it's painful, but it's an effort to breathe evenly and the only thing that'll ease this transitional moment is to continue.

At first, their bodies start to rock together lazily as though on autopilot. They'd hardly be conscious of the fact that they're doing anything if not for the initial sensations of heady ecstasy that flash like the sparks of a lighter in response to their movements. As soon as he felt her hands coax him into action, he sighed happily and surrendered himself to the instinct of wanting to move.

The merging of their bodies is less of the aggressive rutting motions they'll surely succumb to once their current pace is no longer satisfying, but that doesn't make it any less intense. She's partly sure that this is one of the most vulnerable moments either of them has ever had when it comes to sex, and it wouldn't work if it weren't them together. No other person could consume her the way he does, taking up every unoccupied space of her soul until there's nothing left but the silent begging of her heart for him.

Their kiss is messy when it breaks to allow them the chance to suck down a couple breaths of air, saliva shining on his lips in between the seconds it takes them to come crashing back together.

It's loving enough to rot her teeth with its sweetness, a slow but impossibly deep grinding of their hips together that continually presses the tip of him into that sweet spot inside of her, but it takes a turn.

Not only do her hands shift from his hips up to the sides of his waist to get a firmer hold on him, the kiss starts to become vigorous, almost hungry, in search of something more. The dreamlike sequence of the first moment or so they spent slowly fucking under the warm hues of candlelight starts to unravel to reveal the baser instincts that guide them forward.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he whispers the praise into her mouth.

As soon as the words are said, he can feel the effect it has on her. The hands braced on his waist pull his body closer to her at the same moment that she involuntarily squeezes down around him, making the smooth drag of his cock against the velvet-soft heat of her walls even tighter than he thought possible.

The sudden feeling of it makes his first returning thrust much harder than the last. He jerks forward into her with none of the restraint he's retained for the past few moments, and her reaction is nothing short of perfection, at least from his perspective. He watches her throw her head back in a moan, hips bucking to him in pursuit of more, and feels the tips of her fingernails digging crescent-shaped marks into the unmarred skin along his waist.

"JJ!" she gasps in surprise, and if her initial reaction weren't enough to spur him on in a frenzied state of desire, this is.

He almost forgot how intense it had been the first time. Their confessions of love preceding this made them both somewhat softer and sweeter in their approach when they started, but he knows how she likes it.

Nobody would expect it from her. He's another story entirely, especially considering how much John B and Pope know about him, but her? He didn't have any in depth conversations about it with either of them, so none of their friends know how dirty she is.

But when you start to tease it out of her, she's got a side to her that makes his blood run hot. Considering how polite she is, he sure as hell didn't see it coming. For fuck's sake, she's the kind of person who'll apologize to a chair if she bumps into it. With that in mind he never thought she'd be the type to demand such things of him.

Just like that, with one moan of his name, it's like she flipped a switch in him that they forgot was there in the first place. It'll never stop surprising him how little it takes to get him going when he's with her, and he doesn't see that changing no matter how long they spend together in the future. Just a touch from her is all it takes, so it's needless to say that the sound of her calling out his name was more than enough.

Those slow, deep movements he made to sink into her again and again have turned rapid and rough, but still controlled enough to have a semblance of precision to them, hitting in all the right places.

"I bet," JJ speaks lowly, "that you want John B to walk out and see us right now."

She doesn't want to admit how much of an instantaneous effect those words have on her, but the feeling of her clenching around him as she bites back a moan completely betrays her. Partly, she worries that he'll take that the wrong way and think it has something to do with John B when it has nothing to do with him at all, but he doesn't. For the spare second of thought she's allowed to have before her mind goes hazy again, she notes how much more eager he is on the upstroke of the next thrust.

Noticing how right he was in his assumption about her liking the risk of getting caught jumpstarts his heart and makes everything he does rougher. She can sense that he's starting to lose control over himself and is acting on instinct alone.

It makes her much more sensitive to everything he does, and all she can do is cling to him and enjoy it as she takes in everything he says and does. It's hard to pick one thing to focus on between the switch up in pace and what he said.

"You want John B to know you like getting fucked like a slut, don't you?"

She could get off on the sound of his voice alone. Hearing him say stuff like that kills her, it makes the swirling bliss that builds in the pit of her abdomen with every thrust he gives her triple in its extremity.

Her legs are tightly wound around his hips to keep him as near to her as possible, her hands sliding up around his waist to keep a steady grasp on him while he pounds into her. The rug scratches at her back enough to make it sting alongside the immense pleasure building in her, but she doesn't care. When blended with the good sensations, the pain underscores the addictive feeling of him inside of her, fucking her exactly how she asked him too.

Looking up at him when he's like this is simply unreal. There's no other way of describing it in her eyes except for that. He's so stunning, she's inclined to believe that he isn't even real as a means of explaining it. This shouldn't be real. It should be one of her daydreams while she steals covert stares at him as they hang out with the Pogues, but it isn't. She can't wrap her head around it.

Those strands of hair that were damp from the rain are mostly dry as they fall into his eyes with the force of his movements. The sight of him alone, set aside from the rest of it, is enough to make her writhe beneath him and claw at his back in tandem with another thrust that sends her jolting against the rug.

He takes one of his hands up from where they both held her hips for leverage to weave his fingers into the roots of her hair.

He demands between the panting breaths and moans that flood the limited space between them, tugging on her hair, "Answer me."

She instantly blurts out the words, "I want him to see us." The feeling of him tilting her head back by the fistful of hair he has wrapped up in his hand is her persistent reminder to concentrate enough to continue, and she bites down on her lip to contain a moan before speaking again, "I want him to know..."

Her cheeks burn with the mere thought of it, let alone saying it out loud. He's the only person she'd ever let in on this intimate side of her, the side that makes her crazy when she hears him say stuff like this. The reason she feels so comfortable doing this with him is that she knows he understands her. It's as if he can read her mind without even having to try, knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.

It wouldn't matter if the topic of their exhibitionism were any other Pogue or a stranger, it isn't about who it is, it's about the thrill attached to the concept of almost getting seen during such a heated moment. In all actuality, John B is probably snoring face down into his pillow right now with no care for what's happening out here, but he knows what it does to her when they push the boundaries of decency this way. It's the same rush he gets from stealing random, useless things every so often, it's the thrill of getting away with something.

The hand tangled up in the roots of her hair sneaks down between their colliding bodies to rub her clit, and her mouth drops open to take in a shaky breath.

The sight of her beneath him is undoing in and of itself. Head tilted enough to expose her neck to him, chest rising and falling rapidly with her breaths, and breasts bouncing gently with the momentum of their actions—seeing her this way makes his thrusts ramp up into more of a frenzied, uncontainable pace rather than one with the same control and cadence as before. But it's mostly the eye contact that kills him. She doesn't dare to shut her eyes the entire time, as if she can sense that he'll tell her to look at him again the second she does.

"You want him to know what?" he asks, and she knows he won't let her get away with not saying it.

She whines, utterly helpless to the climax starting to build inside of her, "Please."

What she's pleading for, she isn't quite sure, but he can tell by how she's acting that she's starting to get closer, and he wants nothing more than to tease her with the impending chance of her orgasm.

"If you wanna come, you're gonna have to do a lot better than that."

Just like that, he withdraws his hand from between them and leaves her desperate, blindly grasping for the peak she was so close to reaching, she could almost feel it already.

With JJ rocking into her at a relaxed, slower rhythm, the pleasure hasn't disappeared completely. It's there, but she can sense the feeling of her orgasm receding as quickly as it had creeped up on her as soon as he slips his hand out from between them.

It's instantly clear to him how desperate she is as all of her previous shyness surrounding having to admit this to him out loud withers away in seconds. She isn't beneath begging again at this point. He could tell her to crawl across the floor to him and she'd happily do it for the chance of touching him. It's pathetic but true. As much as she has him wrapped around her finger, he has done the same to her and she isn't afraid to admit it anymore.

Her hips jerk toward him in search of the familiar frenzy they were in before that sent her to the brink of climax, but he is impressively stubborn. Despite the fact that it physically pains him to dial it back again, he tries to keep the signs of his own frustration at bay. She knew what she had to say to get what she wants, so he'll only cave when she does.

This time around, she doesn't give a fuck about how badly she blushes or the voice in the back of her mind telling her she should keep this side of her to herself. This time, the one thing she needs to do to prompt her to open her mouth and speak the dirty words he asked her less than a moment ago is look at him. One second of staring up at him and here she is, driven mad enough to say or do anything to get him to pick up where they left off.

She says between the soft noises and breaths coming from them both, clinging to him through every slow but deep thrust that sends sparks ricocheting through her body, "I want John B to know I like getting fucked like slut." Her voice is breathless, and he hangs off of each word as she pauses, looking up at him with a challenging attitude swirling in those pretty eyes. "So stop being a tease and fuck me like one."

His jaw clenches at the bratty statement, one he's too far gone to resist at this point, and right when he's about to respond to her, she speaks again.

"Either that," she says, and a deceptively sweet smile crosses her kiss-swollen lips, "or I can go ask him to—"

She doesn't even get the chance to voice the rest of that thought before he's set into motion.

The hands on her hips flip her over with such casual strength, all she can do is yelp in surprise at the sudden movement that blurs the living room in her peripheral version until she lands with her hands and knees pressing into the rug. He was so swift in pulling out of her and tossing her onto her front like she was nothing more than a rag doll, she hardly had the time to take a breath before she ended up here.

There's hardly any time between when he pulled out to flip her over and when he returns to her again, but it feels like an eternity for them. The few second transition might as well be a few years as she feels his hands guiding her body where he wants it, pushing down on her back until it arches just so, and falls down onto her arms. But as soon as she gets situated, she feels a pair of hands yanking her arms away from where they were braced against the floor and put them behind her back.

It's only then, when he has an unflinching grasp on where he keeps her wrists behind her back with one of his hands, that she is met with the relief of him sinking into her again.

Y/N's jaw goes slack, and she cries out into the rug that her cheek is pressed into as he gives her no chance to adjust or catch her breath before resuming the brutal pace they kept a moment ago. Mentioning anyone else but him doing this to her was the quickest way to get him to snap, so it's safe to say that she's getting what she wanted. After all, she did what he asked, it's fair that she gets rewarded for it.

Amidst the sounds of the storm waging war on the landscape outside of the house, the one thing she can hear over the buzzing pleasure that drowns out her senses is the sinful blend of sounds they create together. It's the sound of their bodies merging, his name falling from her lips, and the curses he makes under his breath that never fail to drive her a little wild.

The hand that isn't holding her arms behind her slides down the length of her curved back until it wraps around her throat to pin her down, and her reaction is everything he could ask for. Seeing her rock back against him to meet him halfway makes his grip on her wrists tighten enough to turn his knuckles white.

Her hair is spread in endless directions in a fan around her head, and he can only see one side of her face from where he kneels behind her, but that glimpse is more than enough. Brows scrunched in pleasure, mouth dropped open in a gape as soft 'uh's and 'ah's escape her on the upstroke of each thrust—she's a mess right now. A beautiful, perfect mess.

"Oh God, JJ," she moans between her rapid breaths and the strong hand constricting her neck, "I'm so close. Please, just let me come."

It took virtually nothing for her to be pushed right back to the edge of the peak she was at less than a minute ago. It took a mere half-minute of this and she's once again reduced to incoherent pleas for more and shaking with no control over herself. Her legs tremble with the effort to keep herself up in this position, and she isn't even the one doing most of the work. In all fairness, this change in position has made the intensity triple. It's deeper this way, and with how harshly he slams into her, it's as though she can feel it in the base of her abdomen.

It's the enjoyable type of pain, however, not the bad type. It'll surely end up with her being sore tomorrow, but she can't hide how much she loves the painful pleasure of how rough it's getting. Being denied an orgasm when she was so, so close to it was initially disappointing too, but it was worth it. If the build up to what would've been her climax before was a spark, this is a flourishing fire spreading through her with no chance of smothering the flames.

He lets go of her throat and taps the side of her jaw in a silent request that she picks up immediately, letting her lips fall open to suck his fingers into her mouth without a second of hesitation.

The taste of her arousal on them is faint, but still there, and it occurs to her that she thought about this earlier before things evolved into chaos. Her tongue swirls around the tips of his fingers as he starts to pull them away in what feels like the blink of an eye to her, leaving him to remember what it felt like when her lips were once wrapped around a more sensitive part of him a week and a half ago.

The one other time he let himself remember it was when they were on the boat with the Pogues, yet that wasn't really of his own volition. It was hot out, so Kiara bought ice pops for them and his mind wandered far from where it should've stayed.

Shining with her saliva, his fingers are pulled from her lips with a soft 'pop' in pursuit of that sensitive collection of nerves at the apex of her thighs. She just needs is a little push to go over the edge, and when he slips his hand down her body to rub tight circles onto her clit, she loses whatever remnants of control over herself she had left.

The steady rhythm of her hips moving back against him falters as she is overwhelmed with the separate sensations culminating into one and giving her the push she needs to come. Her entire body tenses up in anticipation, and since she's pinned to the floor with her hands behind her back, she can only lay there and savor the feeling as it hits her.

After what felt like ages of having it build and build within her, then having it taken away to start the process over again, finally being given a release is a relief beyond any she's felt before.

It's so consuming, it takes away her ability to think of anything outside of how it feels to dissolve into the shockwaves of euphoria rushing through her. Every pulsing wave is prolonged by him, not even through the peak of it does he let up on his precise touches and unforgiving thrusts into her that turn a typical orgasm into the most intense thing she's ever felt.

She's melting in his arms through it all, and as if the change in position didn't make it worse, her involuntary spasms leave him hanging on by a thread.

JJ collapses onto her, barely having the chance to keep himself propped up on his arms as he lets go of her wrists and falls forward onto her sweat-slick back.

The heat of his panting exhales raises goosebumps in its wake where his face is buried into the curve of her neck, and he whines at the impossibly tight feeling of her squeezing around his cock through the end of her climax. Those sounds he doesn't realize he's making have her writhing through the aftershocks, answering with a sound of her own that almost makes him come instantly.

For that reason, he makes the decision to pull out and flip her onto her back.

At this point, she's so dazed and fucked out that she doesn't register any of it until she notices the hollow absence of him inside of her, but it doesn't matter when his face appears through the partial darkness above her.

Despite how sensitive she is right now, the sight of him makes her hands reach out blindly to pull him closer again. They're frantic in their need to get back to one another, grasping and clawing until he finds his way back to her in less than a second, hiking her legs up around his waist with a touch that is somehow demanding and tender at the same time.

It's only when he's inside of her again that it occurs to her why he rolled her onto her back again, and it makes her want to kiss him until her lips turn numb. It may be undeniably hotter to pin someone down and fuck them hoarse, but, no, that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to be able to look at her, to see her face, and the thought of that has her biting back a sudden confession of love. She isn't sure why she doesn't say it right away, since it isn't like they haven't already done it, but she keeps it to herself for a second first.

It's different now. It's not less passionate or frenetic. It isn't as if he isn't being as rough with her as he was before, but they can both sense a shift in the energy between them as soon as he reenters her. It's less about the pursuit of pleasure and more about the feelings they've kept hidden away for so long. It's a simultaneous realization that hits them a little late after they initially confessed their feelings for each other: this is reality. It's real, and when she touches him this time, he isn't going to disappear if she opens her eyes.

The realization of what happened tonight had yet to hit them until right this second, but now that it has, they move forward with a sense of sentimentality that remained partly dormant before.

If there's anything JJ dislikes, it's being vulnerable. The idea of letting someone in to see every part of him, including the parts he doesn't want to see of himself, has always terrified him after years of being made to believe he's undeserving, yet he isn't uncomfortable right now. Somehow, he feels safe with her. Sex has never been something so emotional for him until now, until her, and he doesn't want it differently.

Their bodies are drawn in close, her arms thrown around his neck, and he's so close, he can feel the muscles leading down past his lower abdomen contract with the inevitable approach of his orgasm. She can sense it too in how he acts.

When he gets close, he becomes clingier and lets his feelings get the better of him. His hands squeeze at her hips, sliding up her sides and back down to hike one of her legs up high around his waist to press deeper into her. He can't bear to allow his touch to stay in one place for too long before exploring another part of her, wanting to memorize the delicate intricacies of her body in its entirety.

It's as if she can read his mind too, cause even when she's sensitive enough to gasp when he pushes her thigh to her chest and throws his remaining energy into fucking her at a satisfying pace, she understands what he needs. She knows to reach up and run her fingers through his hair, to tug on it gently until the light strands are taut from his scalp. She knows to lift her head off of the floor enough to trail tender kisses along his face, his jaw, his neck—anywhere she can access.

"Come for me," she says into a kiss placed on the edge of his cheekbone, reeling in overstimulation as she jolts with his quickening thrusts, "I want to watch you..."

Hearing those words, paired with the kisses and fingers pulling on his hair, does it for him. It doesn't take more for his hips to falter and jerk forward into her a final few times before he comes.

Their foreheads press together as they cling to one another for stability, though it's mostly JJ clinging to her while she watches in adoration, and she has to bite her lip to contain a moan at how it feels. The aftershocks of her orgasm have yet to fade as the feeling of pulsing warmth inside of her makes them stronger, reigniting the fire she felt a moment ago if only for a second.

There's a closeness to this situation that they hadn't felt the last time, and they know it has everything to do with what was said before this happened. The sex itself feels like a dream sequence in her mind now that she's coming down from it with him, moving together slowly and gently beneath the candlelight until they ride out the ends of their highs. It was like they were put under a trance by each other, and now that it's over, the first thoughts that come to mind are of what comes next.

It's not the sole topic on their minds though. They're more focused on catching their breath from where they lay, tangled up together, on the living room floor. As soon as the very last of his orgasm faded from him, he fell onto her without a single ounce of energy left to spare. He's careful not to crush her, but, for the most part, he relaxes on top of her and lets his head rest on her heaving chest.

Strong arms slip down to loop around her waist, and she sure that she couldn't get him to release her if she wanted to, which she doesn't.

But they can't stay like this, not for any longer than a few moments anyway, since they don't know how if John B might wake up and come out of the safety of his bedroom after hours of leaving them to their own devices. JJ was right. He's out cold, but for as much as it turned them on in the heat of the moment, neither of them finds getting caught by him as hot with the clarity of their rational minds coming back to them.

He's the one to break the silence.

"As much as I wanna stay like this, we should probably move in case John B wakes up."

The sound of his voice settles in her with the effects of a sedative. It calms her more than anything else could, especially with the added comfort of him cuddling her so closely. One of her hands strokes through his hair and pushes the damp tendrils of sunshine away from his face as he cranes his neck to look up at her. And, for fuck's sake, what else is she to do except admire him?

His cheeks are dusted pink in a way they often are when he spends too much time outside without one of his hats shielding his face, and she thinks he's never looked better.

Ever since they became friends, she's had this theory about him. In the unrealistic landscape of her overactive imagination, JJ didn't come to this world the way the rest of them did. To her, it seems impossible that someone so good, even in his worst moments, could've come from someone like his dad.

So, in idle moments where she would watch him on a day out with the Pogues or daydream about him, she decided that he's the sun.

She imagines he was created in those breathtaking but brief moments where the sun meets the horizon atop the ocean and washes the sky with a vast array of colors. She likes to think he's the incarnation of it. Golden, warm, and bright for everyone but himself, he keeps the world light for her and their friends without intending to.

Some days are warmer than others too. Some days, the light is dimmed by another bruise beneath his clothes or a bad run-in with some kooks, but today is not like that. This moment is eighty-five and sunny with a balmy breeze. Looking at him right now feels like basking in the sun, and she'd burn here forever if he let her.

Without realizing she zoned out, she jolts when he pinches her arm to rouse her from her ridiculous thoughts. He has this dopey half-smile on his face that nearly draws her back into them again.

"You know what they say," he says, "if you take a picture..."

Her soft laughter invades the room, filling his heart with this light, fluttery feeling that always finds him when she's near. His smile grows as she playfully shoves him and reaches above their heads for her wet shirt to cover up with just in case. Odds are, their friend isn't waking up at the exact moment before they seclude themselves to the spare room and get dressed, but she doesn't wanna take that chance.

"I wasn't staring."

She was totally staring. But who could blame her? When someone looks at a person the way he looks at her, how could they ever stay away?

"Whatever you say."

JJ keeps smiling to himself while he pulls his underwear and shorts up his legs and waits for her to be decent enough to sneak past John B's bedroom to the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

The clothes are soaked through with rainwater, so they feel quite uncomfortable to slip back on, but they merely redress enough to be covered. She stole his shirt to avoid putting her shorts back on, the hem of the grey tee hanging right at the tops of her thighs when she walks. As soon as she slips her panties back on and picks up the rest of their cold, wet clothes, that's the cue he needs to scoop her up and take her away.

Y/N curses under her breath in surprise at feeling her feet being plucked off the ground, but she relaxes again once she's settled in his arms, realizing that it was just him who snuck up behind her and lifted her into his arms.

She doesn't say anything on the way to the bathroom. Instead, she lays her head on his shoulder in exhaustion and finds herself staring at the mark she left behind on his neck.

It's a deep, purplish red against the backdrop of his tan skin...the Pogues will surely notice the next time they see him. And while it will make her blush, it won't make her scared as it once would've. There may be a lingering sense of doubt and insecurity within her, but she wants this with him. Even if it means being teased by their friends or dealing with the jealousy of watching kook girls and tourons at parties hit on him, she wants this.

By the time the shower is spraying the rainwater from her hair and washing her clean of sweat sticking to her skin, she realizes that he isn't saying anything either, but she doesn't think it's out of any awkwardness or miscommunication. There's truly nothing to say, at least for now.

Though they didn't have the chance to talk in depth about everything yet, neither of them thinks of that right now. All they know is that they're together, whether it be officially or not, and it feels good. For once, something in his life feels right, and he lets himself enjoy it in silence.

The shower is a cramped space when shared between them and the wet clothes they have draped over the back edge of the tub, but they make it work. It's not like they mind anyway.

They bump into one another whenever they do so much as breathe, and the white walls echo the sounds of her giggling when he tries to tickle her. She leans her head back against his chest and lets out a laugh with shampoo dripping down the front of her face, and he'll be damned if he ever heard a sound as intoxicating as that.

It's a little weird. He's never been as soft and loving with a person before, and he has already felt overwhelmed in the lulls of quiet between them when he's given the chance to think about it.

When she washes his hair for him, insisting that she must return the favor after he so kindly washed hers, he was struck with the same mixture of wanting to simultaneously lean into and pull away from her that he felt the night of the party.

The warmth of the water loosens his sore muscles, washing suds of the green apple scented shampoo over his shoulders and down, down, down until it circles the drain beside his feet. All the while, her fingertips are delicately tracing over a healing bruise on his torso. Those pretty lips of hers are painted in a suppressed frown that she can't hide from him.

"Are you okay?" Y/N asks.

His instant reaction is to fake a smile, to brush it off and distract her as he usually does, yet he doesn't. He forces himself to remain neutral and not push her away.

"Happens all the time," he murmurs, shrugging and averting his eyes to reach for the soap off on the ledge.

The hands holding either side of his waist tighten as he tries to turn, pulling him back to her with more strength than he knew to anticipate from her. Their chests gently collide back together beneath the stream of water, and she can feel his breathing catch for a second or so in response.

The fact that their relationship has changed doesn't change how she handles this aspect of his life. Their new confessions don't have an impact on the part of his life he never wants to let anyone see, so she isn't going to force him to talk about it because they're trying out this whole relationship thing now. He has hard boundaries that she knows not to push sometimes. That's the way it is, and it might change as they grow closer but she knows to accept it for the moment.

As soon as he hears what she has to say next, he could crumble in relief at the realization that their new dynamic doesn't change anything.

"I didn't necessarily mean...that...I meant generally, you know? It's just that—" she sighs, "you shrink away a little when I hold you, and I wondered if I was making you uncomfortable."

Before she could finish the sentence, JJ was already thinking of what to say to prove her wrong, because that's not it. That's not what it is, and if she thinks she's done anything wrong, he'll do anything to convince her otherwise because it isn't her. It's him.

It's his dad lingering in the darker trenches of his mind, commanding his fear and attention so that even when he isn't physically present, he's still here. Part of why he denied wanting her was because he knew these types of things would arise in the beginning, that there would be difficult adjustments to make and conversations to be had, and he didn't want her to leave him as soon as she was faced with one of these things.

He shakes his head.

"You didn't do anything."

The feeing of her chest rising and falling with his begins to steady him after a moment of allowing the initial hesitation to dissolve. His internal reaction to her touch is the mental incarnation of a flinch. It's him waiting for the other shoe to drop and expecting her to do something, to hurt him, before his mind catches up with his heart. But once he realizes everything's okay, he loves it.

"It's kinda embarrassing, but I guess when you touch me, I'm expecting something else," he says softly, scared that if he speaks too loudly, everyone in the world will know how weak he feels.

She should've figured, but hearing him say it is different than wondering what the reasoning behind it is. Hearing him admit it after months of strict avoidance on the topic is a sucker punch to the gut.

Both times they had sex, he was too distracted and thoughtless to get caught up in that part of himself, but it's when the bliss of the afterglow disappears that it creeps back in. That's why he could always handle touch when it came in that context. It was his way of obtaining what he wanted without having to face this side of it—a temporary fix to a greater web of issues.

But there's nothing temporary about her. He doesn't want her to leave him, not without him resisting the urge to beg her on his knees to stay and at least remain his friend, so there's no choice but to face these momentary challenges head on.

She pauses for a second, thinking, then says, "You don't have to be embarrassed about it, I get it. We'll just have to take it day by day then. We can take it slow, and you'll let me know if it gets to be too much, okay?"

It's hard not to be shocked by how well she's taking it. A lot of people probably wouldn't feel too great after someone they love tells them they expect to be hit whenever they touch them, yet she's taking it in stride.

Things are back to normal as soon as she sees the grin on his face.

"So, you're saying you're gonna be trying not to throw yourself at me all the time?" JJ asks, then clicks his tongue as though in thought. "I give you a week. Tops."

Her eyes go wide as she looks at him. She holds her hand over her heart as she pretends to be scandalized by such an accusation, but they know it's true. They both can't keep their hands off of one another, which is why it confuses him. How can he want to reject and enjoy her touch at the same time? Sure, the discomfort disappears after the first split-second, but the fact that it happens in the first place annoys him to no end.

She rolls her eyes and tries to hide the fact that she's giggling as she reaches for the soap.

"You're a little shit, you know that?"

He doesn't miss a beat, saying back, "Yeah but I'm your little shit, so I feel like that says more about you than it does me."

While he's too busy rinsing the rest of the shampoo out of his hair, she smiles to herself at what he said.

Hers.

Nobody has ever been hers before, or proclaimed themselves as belonging to her as proudly and casually as he just did, and her heart melts over the sweet sentiment he didn't think twice about.

Less than a day ago, she was agonizing over her relationship with him and trying to ignore how powerful those feelings for him were, and now they're here. She no longer has to steal glances when he looks away or hide how jealous she feels when other girls flirt with him. To finally let the tension disappear is an immense weight off of her shoulders.

The rest of the shower is as quiet as the start of it was, and that comfortable silence continues through from when they're drying off and redressing to when they hit the mattress in the spare bedroom with tired sighs.

After the day they had, the mere suggestion of sleep is enough to make them start yawning, so being able to slip beneath the sheets and rest their heads almost sings her to sleep instantly.

Their bodies are laying in the exact outlines of where they laid the night of the party, the only difference this time being their mindsets. This time around, they aren't holding themselves back from anything, and it's most evident in the little things. Like how she doesn't turn around to shield her face from him, instead laying with her head propped on the other end of his favorite pillow.

They're so close, their noses brush if they make any slight movements, and this would be enough for him to submit to the urge to drift into sleep if not for the fact that he feels her jolt when thunder rumbles loudly outside of the window.

Much like his own fears being pushed to the side amidst their desire for each other, her anxiety about the storm wasn't on her mind until they laid down to sleep.

She was so wrapped up in him and everything that happened between them that she didn't have the time to think again until now, until she hears the violent patter of rain against the roof and feels her stomach drop at the sound of the thunder. Suddenly, she's not the one reassuring him about his fearful reactions, it's the other way around.

His warm hand takes hers, snatching it up as though he's worried it'll disappear if he doesn't take it quickly enough, and she lets him. Her eyes flutter shut with the release of a slow, deep breath, and she lets the presence of his hand in hers bring her back to earth.

JJ asks into the darkness, "Can I take you out on a real date?" After a beat of silence, the comforting sound of his voice returns to her. "Not that this isn't fun, but I think you deserve a little more effort than John B's living room floor."

A short-lived chuckle escapes her—a win as far as he's concerned. It's difficult to lure her head from the clouds when she gets this way, and it isn't like he has much experience with calming her during these moments either, but that sounded good to him. It sounded like she wasn't thinking about the increased pace of her heart or the howling wind outside.

He was planning on asking anyway. However fitting of a first night together this was, he wants to take her out for real sometime soon. He doesn't have much money for it, like at all, but they can come up with something special together, even if it's similar to the same shit they usually do together. As long as it's time alone together, they don't necessarily care if it's a perfectly traditional first date.

The tip of his thumb rubs comforting circles onto the back of her hand in the brief time it takes her to respond, stroking the soft skin as if to tell her that everything's okay. It seems to say, I'm right here. Nothing can hurt you. And it might make her crazy, but she believes him. JJ could take her back out into the eye of the hurricane at this very moment and she'd still believe his unspoken promise of not letting her into harm's way.

"Of course," she says, then pauses, and the sound of her sleepy voice hardly reaches his ears when she speaks again, "...I'm sorry I avoided you for the past few days. I was scared to tell you how I felt but I shouldn't have left that morning."

The memory of waking up in his arms is fresh in the forefront of her mind, so much so that she can remember the way his breath felt where it exhaled in warm puffs onto her skin.

In the first few moments of consciousness, it was peaceful.

She laid awake for a minute or two to count his breaths and soak in the comfort of being cuddled up next to him, wishing she could stay there for hours. It wasn't until another moment passed that it clicked with her where she was and what was going on between them recently, and that was what prompted her to slip away from the bed to get ready for her day at work.

It was the second time in a row that she left him in that bed with nothing to wake up to but the cold absence of her body between the sheets he slept under, and he can't deny that it's part of why he holds onto her hand so tightly tonight. Even though she's promised him otherwise, he can't help but think she'll be gone by the time he wakes up. At this point, he's struggling to stay conscious. She can see those pretty eyes drooping more and more by the second, yet the hand holding hers doesn't loosen its grip.

He takes a deep breath and scoots closer to her, keeping his one hand in hers while the other arm drapes itself over her waist, and he can feel her relax into the touch.

"It's okay," he says.

It's easier for him to adjust to so much physical contact when he's the one initiating. He knows that's why she only reached out to hold his hand. If she had it her way, she would've already been cuddling with him as soon as they laid down, but he likes that she gives him the space to initiate it. In the ways it counts the most, she cares about him more than anyone else has.

The touch in itself is his way of accepting her apology. However, truth be told, he already forgave her for it before knowing his love was reciprocated could be a possibility.

Right when she's about to fall asleep, the screen door slamming open and shut with the wind on the back porch makes her whip her head around to look over her shoulder in the direction of the sound. It seems like every time he successfully distracts her from it, the storm finds new ways of reminding her of what's happening outside of the safety of the Chateau.

There's the sound of a barely audible, sharp inhale, then her whispering into the dark room as she looks at the closed door, "I can't believe I went out into that. What the fuck was I thinking?"

It's beginning to close in on her again; the sounds of the storm, the sense of being trapped no matter how safe they truly are, and the rising tidal wave of anxiety that picks up speed the more she tries to will it to stop. This is the part where she tries to relieve it in some way, usually by smoking weed to sleep or going to one of her parents so they can help her through it, but she can't help herself right now.

Debris was being picked and tossed around in the wind like it weighed nothing when she was out there, she could've been knocked into the marsh or struck by a piece of debris.

How could she be so stupid?

Not only could she have hurt herself, she could've hurt JJ knowing that he'd likely follow her out into the storm to bring her back inside, and the thought of him being hurt makes the tension in her chest heavier. Her breathing picks up speed, the anxiety starting to snowball out of control when—

"Hey, look at me," JJ says, reaching up to turn her head to face him, and she damn near crumbles in relief at feeling his hand cup her cheek. It doesn't make it all disappear, but it provides a momentary comfort that she doesn't take for granted. "You're safe here. You know damn well I'll do anything to protect you. I mean, shit, dude, if I have to go out there and tell that rain to fuck off, I will."

This draws out a laugh from her, chest stuttering with the happy sound through the tears glistening in her eyes, and he never wants to stop hearing it. His thumb swipes away the first teardrop that falls before it can slip over the apples of her cheeks. I'm Her quiet cries and shaky breaths continue for a while after the laughter disappears. For a second or two, he watches with his thumb still wiping her tears away and hopes that it'll be enough to comfort her, but it can't do it completely.

He pulls away from her to get up from the bed with an idea popping into his mind, but upon hearing her whine at the loss of contact with him, he pauses to say, "I'll be back quick, don't worry."

The remaining humorous side of her left wonders if he's actually gonna go tell the rain to fuck off, but he's just opening the bedroom door to trot out into the living room.

A candle burning on the coffee table illuminates the space for him, guiding him straight to the forgotten backpack she left slumped against the arm of the couch hours before their relationship was changed for the better. It takes him an instant to get there and back with the bag in hand, and he's digging through it for a second before climbing back into bed with her.

If anyone else rifled through her bag, sifted through her personal belongings, and dug her phone out of it, she'd probably be annoyed, but she never is with him. She's inherently protective of her things, but JJ can do whatever he wants and it has always been that way. It should've been the first warning of what was to come.

He pulls the sheet back over his body and scoots up close to her, trying to resist the urge to retreat at first when he maneuvers her to lay with her head on his shoulder. It should trigger the flight or fight response that often alarms in his head, but he's able to push it away.

She's so vulnerable right now, so gentle and in need of the warmth of another person that he isn't as intimidated. It's not that she couldn't hurt him if she wanted to right now, she could, but he knows her. He knows that the last thing she'd ever want to do is hurt him, so he has to remind himself of that and give himself the permission to enjoy the physical intimacy of her touch. The part of him that questions if he even deserves it can't reach him now, not when he's so focused on her.

"Thumb?" he asks with the phone held out expectantly.

The screen is less than two inches from her face, so she has to push it back slightly, but she flattens her thumb to the button without further hesitation.

When he unwraps the pair of headphones from around the palm of his hand and plugs them into the charging port, she realizes why he left in the first place.

When she was facing away from him, eyes shut and headphones in to distract herself with music earlier, he was stealing glances at her every so often. He tried to keep away from her for the most part. It was difficult though, especially knowing what she said about being jealous the night of the party and knowing how scared she was of the hurricane. He couldn't help but keep an eye on her, for both his own selfish needs and his worry for her.

He keeps an arm tucked around her, pressing her body into his while he pops one of the headphones into her ear and the other into his. The thing is, her eyes aren't trained on the screen like his are once he starts looking through her vast collection of not-so-legally acquired music for a song that suits both of their tastes, they're trained on him.

Their taste in music tends to diverge in certain ways and overlap in others, so there's always a fifty/fifty shot of him liking what she plays when she's the one picking the music. That is why he smiles to himself and halts the endless scrolling in its tracks to hover his thumb over one song.

He obviously heard it before she played it that one time, but it's different for him now. They were riding together in the backseat of the Twinkie on the way to the beach with John B, Kie, and Pope when they let her take her turn to play a song.

That's how it is with them, the driver goes first, then it goes to the front seat passenger, and so on and so on until they make their way back to the beginning of the rotation. It was her turn when she picked this song, and it could've been the song, or the sunset shining through the window, but he felt as though his heart exploded when he looked at her in the middle of it.

He remembers feeling confused, confused as to why he couldn't catch his breath and why he suddenly adored the song he only heard casually a couple of times.

It was her. It was everything about her. The soft hum of her voice murmuring the lyrics, too shy to actually sing them in the presence of anyone else, was too delicate for the others to appreciate over the sounds of the van. He heard it though. He clung to it and admired her, so unashamed in his staring that he didn't realize he was doing it. It wasn't until she noticed that he stopped.

"Do I still have ice cream on my face or something?"

Her fingers came up to wipe at the corner over her mouth, and the action sent him turning his attention away quicker than he knew he could move, pulling the lighter out of his pocket to fiddle with as he mumbled, "Yeah, but you got it off now."

The cheery melody of Just Like Heaven bursts out of each headphone into their ears.

How did he know? How is he constantly reading her mind without realizing it?

This was her first song on the couch that she couldn't stand to sit through without thinking, naturally, of him when confronted with the topic of love. Somehow, it's like he knew that, and instead of feeling exposed and scared he'll know her feelings like before, she feels loved.

She is never skipping this song again.

"Go to sleep," he murmurs, clicking the screen off and resting it on his stomach.

It takes him a short thirty seconds to fall into an easy, calm pattern of breathing that tells her he isn't asleep, but soon will be. But she's fighting her sleepiness to continue looking at him. His eyes are fluttered shut, hair messy on the pillow, and she'd want to reach up to kiss him if he weren't trying to fall asleep.

Instead, she settles for matching her quickened breaths to the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand and shuts her eyes along with him.

By the time the song reaches its end, she thinks he's asleep, but she still whispers, "Thank you," and feels his arm squeeze around her body in response.

The next songs fade into white noise at this point for her, drowning out the storm to the point where she begins to forget it's happening out there.

Maybe they can be each other's safe place when things get rough. After all, he handled this wonderfully considering his lack of experience with her anxiety and she never pushes him on his plethora of unsorted issues, even when she wants so badly to be the one to initiate the touch.

She never makes him think she pities him, or wants to "fix" him like so many partners with savior complexes who will never try to understand how it feels often do in these situations. With each other, maybe it doesn't have to be so complicated anymore, even when they have those inevitable arguments here or there.

The last thing he does before allowing himself to be dragged under is brush his lips on her forehead in a tender kiss. And when he eventually wakes to the rising sun shining through the windows in the aftermath of the violent hurricane, she's still there.

Tag List: @jjjmaybank, @its-simply-fanfiction, @naughtydild0swaggins.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx s2 #obx #fanfiction

[gukyi]

in the frosty air | a jjk drabble

summary: two weeks ago you and your roommate slept together. which would be fine, if you knew you both felt the same about each other. but you don’t. and now it’s christmas, and jungkook is still gorgeous and gentle and wonderful and here, and and you don’t really know what to do about that.

{college!au, roommates!au}

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: this is just an angst train tbh, but it has a happy ending! word count: 1.6k warnings: mentions of past alcohol consumption, this centers around everyone’s favorite capitalist holiday, being sad in the wintertime a/n: OHHHHHHHHHH *internet breaks* anyway yeah i’m back baby!!! here’s a little drabble to celebrate because i can’t help myself when it comes to jungkook. love me or we both go down coming soon!

“This Christmas is pretty fucking lame, isn’t it?”

You whip around at the sound of his voice. “Oh, hey. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I figured,” Jungkook chuckles, bending his head down as he crawls through the open window to join you on the fire escape. The temperature is freezing and the wind is stinging your skin, but it didn’t really feel right to be spending tonight inside. “Saw the window open. Thought you might be here.”

“Yeah. I was probably gonna head inside soon, though.” In the hopes that you would be curled up in your bedroom before Jungkook even got home. Seeing him lately has been hard. “How did your final go?”

“It was alright.” You don’t have to keep looking at him to feel Jungkook taking a seat next to you, crossing his legs over each other as he stares out into the city below you. It snowed a few days ago, and the sidewalks are still covered in that dirty slush that always lingers, wet and cold and black from car tires. Just being beside you makes your heart race, makes your chest tighten. “I was pretty stressed out about it, but then I just sort of remembered that I did my best and that was all I could do, you know?”

“That’s good.” You wish you had that mindset. You spend days studying for an exam and once it’s over, you spend days dwelling on all the things you might have gotten wrong. It’s a philosophy you apply to most aspects of your life. Why you did the thing you did. Why doing the thing you did was the worst thing you could have done. How you will recover from it. If you even will. 

Jungkook sighs. You turn to look at him, just briefly, glance at his side figure, and notice he’s wearing nothing but a giant zip-up hoodie. Isn’t he cold? “It doesn’t really feel like Christmas.”

“Yeah.” You don’t have anything else to say to that. It doesn’t. Which is a damn shame, because you and Jungkook spent the entire beginning of this month turning your tiny, two-bedroom apartment into a winter wonderland. You got a tree to put up next to your TV and decorated with the weirdest ornaments you could find. You hung up those dangly white Christmas lights on the balcony of your fire escape, the ones meant to look like icicles dripping from the metal railing. The radio has been playing nothing but Michael Bublé and Mariah Carey. And yet.

It’s not hard to wonder why this Christmas is such shit. Your spring internship fell through a week ago. Your parents rented a lake house and assumed you wouldn’t be coming with. All of your other friends have gone home already. And Jungkook, perhaps the last person in this whole goddamn city you would have wanted to spend time with, you can’t even bear to look at. 

“How did your finals go?” Jungkook asks, trying to keep the conversation going. 

“They were fine.” At least that torture is over. But living with Jungkook, seeing him every day and knowing that what you have done you can never undo--it’s endless. 

There’s silence. It’s like the two of you simultaneously have no idea and know exactly what to say. Like the words are lingering on the tips of your tongues but your lips are sealed shut. Opening them won’t be like a can of worms. It will be a dam, a waterfall of I’m sorrys and What nows. One week ago, in the heat of the night and in the haze of drink after drink, you and Jungkook made the worst mistake two roommates could ever make. 

“Are you going home this break?” You blurt out the words before you can stop yourself. 

Jungkook sighs. “I’m not sure.”

“It’s okay if you want to.” I get it. I’m not sure if I’d want to hang around and see me either. 

He shrugs. “I just haven’t decided yet.”

He knows that you’re staying. The two of you were so looking forward to spending Christmas together. Now look at you. Jungkook was the perfect roommate. Then everything changed. 

“Okay.” He’s probably just trying to figure out a way to let you down easy. 

Next to you, Jungkook rustles a hand through his pocket. “By the way, uh--I just remembered. I got you something.”

You don’t even have time to object before Jungkook is placing a small fabric box into your open palm, resting on your lap. You look down at the item, at the way your hand seems to envelop it. 

“You didn’t have to--”

“I wanted to.” Jungkook is firm in his response. “Besides, I got it a while ago. Figured now is as good a time as any to give it to you.”

There’s not really anything else to do except open it. Carefully, with trembling fingers, you pull off the lid. Inside sits a dainty silver locket resting amongst a pile of folded tissue paper. You gasp, your breath coming out in smoke in the cold winter air. 

“Oh my God, I--”

“I overheard you talking on the phone saying you wanted one,” Jungkook admits sheepishly. “I wanted to give it to you before I forgot.”

Fingers shaking from the cold, you pull the locket from the box. It dangles from its chain, a delicate little thing, barely the size of a fingerprint. Even on this hazy winter evening, it still catches the light.

For the first time tonight, you look up at him. His eyes are a swirling brown, a deep chocolate. They are unreadable. He offers a small, guarded smile your way, lips pink in the chilly air. “Thank you,” you tell him honestly. This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for you. 

You can’t accept this without returning the favor. Wordlessly, you get up from the fire escape, rushing indoors for a moment as you grab your gift from your bedroom. It’s been sitting in there for at least two weeks now. You hold your hand behind your back as you make your way back to the fire escape, sitting down next to him once more. 

With a small flourish, you reveal your own present. They’re drumsticks. 

“For you,” you tell him, that same small grin on your face. “Since you’re always drumming on everything. Thought you could use something to do that with.”

Jungkook looks positively starstruck. He takes the sticks in his hands, feels the wood with his fingers, tracing over the logo at the bottom. You aren’t very well versed in the world of drum equipment, but your friend in the orchestra told you it was a good brand. 

“Wow, Y/N,” he says, mouth agape. “This is... this is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever gotten me. Thank you.”

“Always.”

And that’s the truth, isn’t it? No matter what you do, no matter what you say, you will always be there to give Jungkook what he deserves. To make his life just the tiniest bit better. Doing thoughtful things for him has never required effort on your part. There is just a part of you that will do them, because he deserves it. Because he is so gentle, and loving, and kind, and wonderful. 

You sit there for a little while longer, relishing in the brief respite of your gift exchange. It’s softened the ice, warmed the air, broken the tension. Even if only a little. But it’s enough to keep you out here, sitting next to him. It’s enough to keep you from drifting away. 

“I don’t regret that night.”

The words feel like biting wind. 

“What?” You turn to him. 

“I don’t. I’d do it again. A thousand times over.” Jungkook is resolute. He looks at you, eyebrows furrowed in determination. 

“Jungkook, what happened that night--”

“Is something I’ll never forget,” he finishes. “Do you know how fucking long I had been waiting to do that? To hold you? Kiss you? To spend the night with you?”

Each syllable presses deeper into your chest, imprinting themselves on your heart. You stare back at him, too shocked to say anything at all. 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” Jungkook adds on, quickly backtracking. “I sort of... got that message when I woke up that morning and you were gone. But I just wanted you to know that that night didn’t change anything about how I feel about you.”

Jungkook’s got it all wrong. You were the one who fucked up. You were the one whose feelings won’t change. “I thought you were the one who didn’t feel the same.”

Jungkook chuckles, this sad, forced cough. “Are you kidding? I’d do anything to relive that night. You’re my favorite person in this whole world, Y/N.”

If the weather were just a little bit warmer, if the wind wasn’t as dry, perhaps tears would fall. But instead, you blink back at him and it feels at once like your heart weighs a million pounds and nothing at all. “Me too,” you choke out. “I never want to be without you.”

Your fire escape is barely big enough for one person, let alone two, but that doesn’t stop Jungkook from reaching over and pulling you in, pressing a chilly kiss to your frozen lips, the heat of his mouth warming you up from the inside out. It’s cold tonight, yes. But Jungkook makes you feel like it’s summer all year long. 

You smile against his lips. They feel like home. They taste like peppermint lip balm and coffee and ice. 

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks. As if he was even thinking about going home anyway. 

“Yes,” you whisper back. 

It feels a lot more like Christmas now. 

“Then I’ll stay.”

↳ don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback! i missed you guys!

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #bts au #jungkook au #not me writing this because i felt like some jk college angst and also wanted to celebrate my return with more than just a text post #w: in the frosty air #DOES IT REALLY DESERVE A W: TAG??? ITS A DRABBLE

[ela-loomis]

Wdym if we want more hcs of michael literally there's not enough of them pls serve us miss mister

🥺🥺🥺 i'm so happy people actually want them lol

A Random Mix of Michael Myers HCs

- MICHAEL HEADBUTTS AS A FORM OF AFFECTION. Not like the full on forehead slamming kind, I mean the very soft cat-like kind. But yes. He will bump his forhead against yours very gently to tell you he loves you. I will die with this headcanon.

- He’s clingy but he hates it. He will wrap himself all around you like an octopus when you’re sleeping, but as soon as he’s awake he’s gonna be out of the bed before you can open your eyes and see him being soft.

- This is so weird and specific but I witnessed this moment between my grandparents and it’s been sitting in the back of my brain banging pots and pans together for two weeks If you’re ever cooking and you’re at risk of burning yourself (like if you’re holding out a spoon and you’re about to spill the liquid in it) he will absolutely reach out and let himself get burnt to keep it from getting on you :((((

- When he decides he loves you, expect the most ridiculous pattern of kindness and avoidance to appear. He’ll like, randomly do the laundry for you while you’re busy, and then he’ll leave the house until you go to bed to avoid you thanking him. 

- If you do manage to catch him mid-escape attempt and thank him, his shoulders will tense up and he’ll hit you with a look that screams ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, unhand me you fool’ but he will absolutely think about your smile and sweet words for the next, like, week.

- If you own a cat, congratulation on adopting a second one! He’ll act like he hates the cat at first, but before long they’ll be best buddies, and you’ll walk into the den one day to find them giving you identical unamused looks. 

- He puts milk in his bowl before cereal. I just know it.

- Michael will absolutely not celebrate Halloween with you, but he will hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. How sweet, right? WRONG, he’s only doing it because he knows most of the kids will run screaming from him, and he’ll get all the candy to himself. 

- His favourite thing to do in the entire world besides stab things is sit in the same room as you and just enjoy your presence. Even if you think you’re completely alone, he’s more than likely somehwere just outside your view, just enjoying your existence. 

- He is an absolute space heater, so you know he needs several fans in the bedroom when it gets warm out. But don’t expect him to stay on his side of the bed in the summer, no no no. He will cuddle the hell out of you, even if it’s 37°

- Wanna see the crabby man be soft for a little bit? Give him a shoulder massage. WARN HIM FIRST OR HE’S GONNA BREAK YOUR HAND OUT OF SHEER REFLEX!! But give him some TLC and for the next half an hour, it’s like an entirely different person is in your house. He’ll be so peaceful and complacent; you could probably get him to put on a pretty pink tutu right after a massage. But you better hope you’re on another planet when that post massage bliss wears off, or there’s a big storm comin’.

#ot #but i was in the kitchen with my granna while she was making soup and she reached out to my grandad with the spoon #and she was about to dump it all over her foot because he was further away than she thought #and HE PUT HIS HAND UNDER IT AND LET HIMSELF GET BURNT TO FUCK SO THAT SHE DIDN'T AND WHEN I TELL YOU MY FERAL ANIMAL BRAIN LATCHED ONTO THA #THAT* SO HARD #I JUST :(((((((((( SOMETIMES MEN REALLY DO THE SOFTEST THINGS #anyway more to come!! #michael myers x reader #slashers x reader #slasher imagines #slasher headcanons

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 16: Summertime Nightmares (Alt prompt: Consolation/advice)

AO3

Prev

The following week was the last of the school year. And it was...weird to say the least. Some of her classmates were upset that she hadn’t been the one to tell them. Many of them (most) assumed that she’d known and just hadn’t told them. She didn’t want to argue with them and she knew her dad hadn’t announced her existence in Gotham yet, so she just pointed out the fact that the Wayne family was very private.

That mostly worked. Lila kept poking though, insisting that Marinette would have told them if she trusted them. Nino disagreed, which shocked Marinette. He usually believed Lila, or at least he hadn’t ever openly gone against her before. But not this time. This time, he insisted that Marinette trusted them and it was probably her dad who asked her not to say anything. While wrong, Marinette didn’t disagree. She’d let her dad take the fall for this one. Alya though...she wasn’t taking it well. She thought Marinette should have told her ages ago. If she had known before Lila came, maybe she would have told Alya. But Alya had been more lax on what she posts on the Ladyblog since Lila’s arrival. She’d done less research, and was posting things not related to Ladybug and Chat Noir. While that wouldn’t usually bother her, Marinette did not want her newly discovered family to be the next big story on Alya’s blog.

So she basically just kept her head down, kept quiet at the class hangouts. And now school was finally out for the summer. It would be a little over two months with no Lila. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Marinette walks into the bakery and smiles widely at her Maman and Papa.

“Hello honey, how are you?” Her Maman asks, sliding a croissant into her hands.

“I’m fine, Maman.” She says, mentally preparing herself to ask what she’d been avoiding. Her dad had offered to let her stay in Gotham for the summer. It was both a chance to bond, and a chance for him to train her a little so that she could fight better, help her make a case against Hawkmoth, maybe even find his identity. He also wanted to give her a break. He thought that taking a step away from Paris, from always policing her emotions, was in her best interest. She agreed, but she still hadn’t talked to her Maman. Or her Papa.

“Bruce called.” Her Papa says. Marinette freezes. He wasn’t supposed to call yet! “Asked if we’d made a decision about letting you go to Gotham for the summer.” Rats.

“I was gonna talk to you guys today! I didn’t wanna upset you. I love you guys so much, but I also really wanna spend time with the other half of my family because I just met them and we haven’t really had a chance to bond or get to know each other and-”

“Honey, we understand.” Her Maman says, cutting off her ramble with a smile. Marinette blinks.

“Really?” She asks in a small voice. She didn’t want to hurt them. Her Maman smiles and relief floods her body.

“Of course honey. It would also give you a chance to not deal with constant akuma attacks.” She says. Marinette squeals in excitement, running over and wrapping her parents in a hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She yells. Watch out Gotham, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Wayne is coming back!

---

“Why hasn’t Marinette answered yet? She’s always down for a class picnic.” Alya says with a pout. Lila suppresses an eye roll, opting instead for a worried frown.

“Do you think she’s mad at you?” She prompts, knowing exactly why the little brat wasn’t answering. She was supposed to be on a plane right about now. Lila had borrowed Alya’s phone the day before (to make sure Marinette hadn’t tried to say anything about her again) when she saw the text. Marinette would be spending the entire summer in Gotham.

Lila, in a moment of what was surely pure excellence, deleted the text. It was perfect! Alya wouldn’t know Marinette had left and Marinette would be waiting for a text from her stupid BFF. But Lila had thought of that too. She’d changed the phone number on Marinette’s contact in Alya’s phone. It was now set to go to a fake number in a messaging app that Lila spent €1 on each month. It was worth it though, it’d definitely come in handy before. And now all she had to do was wait. Sure Marinette could always text Alya first, but Lila had heard too many times that Alya usually reached out first. Probably because of how much of a scatterbrain Marinette is.

“Why would she be mad at me?” Alya asks with a nervous smile. Hook, line and sinker. Lila frowns and places a hand on Alya’s arm in a faux attempt at reassurance.

“I didn’t wanna say anything, I really shouldn’t.” She says, shaking her head.

“Please. I’ll owe you one!” Alya insists, just as Lila had hoped. This would be a key part of her plan later on. Once Marinette has been silent for a few weeks.

“Well...okay. I heard her talking to Adrien the other day.” Lil starts, using the only other person who could go against her (but won’t!) “She said- she said she couldn’t trust you!” Alya flinches back as if she was hit.

“She said that?” She asks in a small voice. Lila nods sadly, celebrating on the inside. She’d be able to use this summer, while Marinette is away, to finally take everything away from that no good brat. It would be glorious.

---

Marinette was moments away from committing a murder. She was only going to do it because she knew for a fact that she’d get away with it. With a singular pout, she’d have the world’s greatest detective on her side. She was certain of it.

“Miss Marinette please put down the knife. I assure you prison is not lovely this time of year.” Alfred says with a sigh as he walks into the kitchen.

“Then tell Dick to get out of the kitchen!” She complains, pointing at her oldest brother who was currently covered in frosting and flour. She was trying to make cupcakes for after dinner, since she knew how much Dick likes sweets. She was trying to do something nice. And when Dick came into the kitchen, claiming he just wanted to spend time with his baby sister, Marinette let him stay. Because she loves her brother, she does.

But somehow in the two minutes that he was in the kitchen, he managed to dump the entire canister of flour. Not good, but she’d already baked the cupcakes so it wasn’t the end of the world. But then somehow, he’d managed to dump the entire mixing bowl of frosting. The entire thing. She had no clue how he had managed to do that, considering the fact it was frosting. It didn’t exactly run smoothly out of a bowl. It’s supposed to be able to hold its shape. Honestly, it was a mystery.

“Master Dick, you know that you are not allowed in the kitchen.” Alfred says with a frown. Dick pouts.

“I just wanted to spend some time with Mari.” He mumbles. Marinette almost regrets wanting to kill him. Until she watches as he wipes some of the frosting off of his head and eats it. Yeah, she doesn’t regret it anymore...but she does still love him.

“Okay, we’ll definitely have to spend more time together later. But for right now please go take a shower or something. I need to make more frosting and I do not trust you to be in the room when I do.” Marinette says exasperatedly. Dick sighs but leaves. Marinette puffs out her cheeks, giving Alfred a look.

“Yes?” He asks, his lips quirked up slightly.

“I honestly don’t know how you deal with them sometimes.” She grumbles before grabbing a new bowl. The cupcakes aren’t going to decorate themselves.

---

Jason huffs, annoyed that he’d been talked into staying at the manor with Marinette. He wasn’t mad at Marinette, he would do just about anything for the kid. Didn’t mean he wanted to stay at the manor just to make sure she didn’t sneak onto patrol. She’d assured them that she was too tired to try anything, but Bruce hadn’t believed her. Thus, Jason stuck at the manor.

But the kid had made a shit ton of cupcakes and Jason had a copy of his favorite book, so the night wouldn’t be too bad. After a few hours lounging in one of the rooms near Marinette’s, Jason starts to nod off. He’s about to welcome the rest, knowing everyone would be back from patrol soon, when he’s yanked from sleep by an ear piercing scream. Shit.

---

Marinette blinks as she looks around. Oh god. No, no please don’t let this be real. She chokes out a sob as she looks around her. Paris was once again completely underwater. The Eiffel tower was split in half. Hands shaking, she glances up and sees the moon. Or, what’s left of it. She moans in distress, letting her tears fall freely. She tries to breathe, but it won’t come. She’s panicking now, trying to ignore the burn in her chest as she sees the disaster around her. The terror around her. The destruction. She clutches her throat, trying to force her body to breathe. Force herself to suck in air, to be okay.

“Oh, Marinette, I see you’ve decided to join us again.” A familiar voice says. She tenses, slowly turning and looking behind her. Standing in front of her, just as she remembered him, was Chat Blanc. She should’ve known. She should’ve known that just because it was okay for a couple days didn’t mean it would stay okay. She should’ve tried harder to find Bunnix, should’ve tried to find a way to stop Adrien from finding out. Movement by Chat Blanc’s feet catches her attention and she glances down, regretting it immediately.

“What have you done?” She asks, rushing forward and falling to her knees, desperately trying to stop her little brother from bleeding out. “What have you done?” She yells, glaring at Chat Blanc through her tears. Her hands shake as she puts pressure on the wound, using Damian’s cape in an attempt to stop the blood.

“Marinette-” He tries to say, and she just shakes her head, hating that there’s blood coming out of his mouth. She knows what that means. She knows that this is bad. And there are no hospitals anymore. Everything is underwater. Everything except the three of them.

“Hey no, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you little brother.” She chokes out, trying to smile at him.

“Father,” He manages to say, his voice barely audible. “Help him.”

“No, no, please. Please don’t leave me! Please, no, no!” She screams, trying to wake him back up, trying to force him to get back up. He couldn’t die like this. He couldn’t die at all. She just found him. And now she’s lost him.

“Now we can be together forever Marinette.” Chat Blanc says, finally speaking up. She glares at him and his stupid smirk. The smirk that had haunted her since the first time she saw the white suit.

“I don’t want anything to do with you! You killed my brother!” She screams. Glancing down at her shaking hands, she can’t help but notice they’re covered in blood. She shudders, trying hard not to throw up.

“Brothers, actually.” He quips. She snaps her gaze back to him.

“What?” She hisses, standing so that she can hopefully run and get to one of her brothers before it’s too late. She can’t lose all of them. She can’t. He casually steps to the side, revealing her other brothers. But none of them are moving. Cass is also lying with them, but she’s not moving either. Gone. All of her siblings. And it was all her fault. She let Adrien know her identity. She didn’t try to fix that mistake and this is what happened. She lost every- her dad. Damian said- She turns and runs away from Chat Blanc, scanning the horizon and trying to stay as together as possible. She had to try. She could still save her dad. She could still help him. As she looks around, she manages to spot his cowl. Rushing towards it, she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Marinette?” He says, looking at her with a frown. She scans him for injuries, relieved that he just had a few small wounds. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

“I’m so sorry dad.” She whimpers, throwing her arms around him. He holds her for a moment before pulling away.

“Marinette, we have to go. We can’t stay here. It’s only a matter of time before-” He stops talking and his face morphs into the most horrified, anguish filled face that Marinette had ever seen. Right before he starts to crumble into ash.

“No!” She screams, horror and grief washing over her in waves. She was all alone and it was all her fault. And now she was going to die too.

---

“Come on Pixie, wake up kid. Come on, it’s okay, I’m here. Jay’s here.” A familiar voice soothes. Marinette stops thrashing, coughing slightly as she realizes the loud noise had been coming from her. She’d been screaming. Jay’s here? But then- She immediately opens her eyes, sobbing in relief when she sees Jason looking at her. No blood. Okay. She lunges forward and wraps her arms around him, sobbing into his chest.

“I’m sorry.” She cries. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh kid, you don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He whispers, holding her close. They sit like that for a few minutes, until a knock on the door frame makes her reluctantly pull back. She glances over and a new wave of tears immediately appears. She launches herself off the bed and runs into her dad’s arms, sobbing once more.

“Jason, what happened?” He asks quietly, she knows that Jason doesn’t know, but she doesn’t answer for him. She can’t. All she can do is cry in her dad’s arms, relieved that she could cry. That her nightmare didn’t end with her almost being akumatized like it had before.

“No clue. Heard her scream so I ran in here, but she was asleep. Once she woke up she started crying and apologizing.” Jason says softly, probably for her benefit. She tries hard to remind herself that the nightmare didn’t mean anything. Her family wouldn’t be hurt because of her.

“Is everyone okay? Damian and Tim and Dick?” She asks, still buried in her dad’s arms. She’d ask about Cass, but she was still in Hong Kong. Marinette made a mental note to text her later.

“Everyone’s fine. Did you- do you want to talk about it?” He asks, and she almost agrees. Maybe it would be better to finally tell someone about Chat Blanc. To share that burden with someone else. But...maybe not her dad. Especially not since Adrien actively knows her identity and she wouldn’t be opposed to dating the boy in the future.

“I- er, um.” is all she manages to say before shaking her head. She won’t talk to her dad about this, and she doesn’t want to leave his arms right now. Not while she feels safe. She can almost hear him whispering to Jason, but she knows he’s trying not to let her hear, so she ignores them and instead wraps her arms around him tighter.

“Can I go get you a glass of water? Maybe a cookie for Tikki?” Her dad asks after a few moments of whispering with Jason. Marinette frowns. She didn’t want to be left alone. Not yet.

“I’ll stay with ya Pixie Pop.” Jason says, almost as if he had read her mind. She nods, giving her dad one final squeeze before walking back over to the bed and climbing up, letting Jason wrap her in a hug.

“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” Her dad says before walking away. The silence only lasts a beat.

“You wanna tell your big brother why you woke up screamin’?” He asks. Marinette squeezes her eyes shut, desperate to get rid of the images from her nightmare.

“Nightmare.” She says simply. Jason chuckles.

“Kinda figured that part out Pix.”

“I’ve had it before.” She starts, aware of how her voice shakes. “But this time it was a lot worse. This time, I wasn’t the one who died.”

“What could be worse than dyin?” Jason asks, though she can tell by his tone that he knows. He knows what’s worse than dying.

“Watching all of you die.” She says simply. His hug tightens and she lets out a shaky breath, desperately wiping at her tears. “That’s not even the worst part Jay.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna.” He says softly.

“I know.” She says. “A version of it has happened. In a different timeline. That’s the worse part. Luckily when I had to go save that timeline, I didn’t know you guys. So you weren’t caught in the middle of everything. But in my nightmare, since you know about me and- and you guys just wanted to help but no one can win against that. No one. It was so hard to beat him when it actually happened. But the dream. It was awful.” There’s silence as he just holds her, lets her know he’s there without saying it. She’s so thankful for her family. For her brothers.

“Here’s your water.” Her dad says. She finally sits up and looks at him, noting the way his face is creased in worry. She manages a small smile.

“Thanks dad.” She says, her smile growing slightly as his face begins to relax.

“Mari! You’re still up?” Dick says, walking into the room. She blinks at him in confusion, not expecting him to just walk in. She watches as he looks between everyone else, clearly putting it together that something was wrong. He frowns, before his face stretches back into a grin. “Come on, bring all your pillows and blankets and we’ll have a Disney movie marathon until we fall asleep.” He directs, running out of the room to presumably get his own materials for the movie marathon.

“You don’t have to.” Her dad reassures her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. She shrugs.

“Might as well. I know I’ll definitely not be able to sleep anymore tonight.” She says, grabbing a couple pillows and her blanket, dragging it with her to the movie room. Leave it to her brothers to have a way to help her feel better after a nightmare. Marinette smiles to herself, once again relieved that she was in Gotham.

Next

Masterlist

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82

#maribat #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #maribat bruce wayne #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat jason todd #maribat dick grayson #maribat tim drake #maribat damian wayne #maribat alfred #platonic dickinette #platonic jasonette #platonic timari #platonic daminette #mbdbwm2021 #day 16 alt prompt #ao3fic #fanfiction #maribat fic #maribat fanfiction

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.6

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

ch.5 - ch.7 (finale)

~~~~~~~~~~

The air was still quite nippy and crisp, but the afternoon sun sparkled on the white snow and made the atmosphere pleasant to stand in if the Main Sequence Star was shining directly on a living organism, like it was on Stan from where he stood on the porch. He sighed tiredly as he dug into his hoodie’s pocket for a fresh cigar and lit it with his Zippo-style lighter. He knew he probably shouldn’t smoke with a kid in the house, but after the few days he’s had, he needed and had well earned a smoke-break.

The door opened and Stan hid his cigar by his side, his right arm glued to his hip to hide the newcomer on his left, but when he saw it was an adult, he relaxed and took another puff. “M’trying to quit.” He mumbled.

Ford snickered. “Yeah, it looks like you’re trying really hard.”

“Don’t be shitty.” Stan said casually.

“Mind if I lend one? I can replenish you in a few minutes.”

Stan stared at his goody two-shoes of a twin and handed him a cigar and the lighter. “You smoke?”

“Not often. For a celebration or after a long day.” Ford answered as he lit his borrowed cigar. “Maybe twice a month. Thrice?”

“Huh.”

Ford looked down at the lighter in his hand, and he was surprised when he recognized it. He can clearly remember seeing the tiny silver box in a store and thinking Stanley would like it as a Only One More Year of High-School present. “I gave this to you.”

Stan smiled as he took it back and pocketed it. “Yeah, it’s a good lighter. Only needed to change the flint a few times.”

“Hey guys!” A small voice called from inside the house. “Do you like vanilla or chocolate?”

The twins looked at each other, smiled, and called back. “Both. Both is good!”

“Both it is!”

Stan chuckled and shook his head. “Knucklehead… I knew she had to be family just by looking at her!” He bragged proudly.

“I suppose I was too distracted by the fact that a cold girl was at my doorstep to recognize the family resemblance.” Ford reasoned, shrugging. “I wanted to make sure I did the right thing. I didn’t exactly feel like getting arrested for kidnapping.”

Stan barked a laugh. “Yeah, you got a good point.” The conman yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “Guess I’ll head out tomorrow.” He mentioned offhandedly.

Ford stared at him, a little saddened and disheartened by this fact that was news to him. “You’re leaving?”

“I mean, yeah?” Stan equally stared at his brother, confused and not daring to be hopeful, but still. “What?”

“I just…” Ford hesitated and busied his mouth by taking a hit of his cigar. With everything that has been said and how well he and Stan have been communicating, he really didn’t feel like ruining it now. He relaxed his shoulders and said with his eyes on the snowy woods. “I was really hoping you would stay.”

Stan looked dumbfounded, like a child discovering candy for the first time, but he looked away and down at the porch floor. “Oh.”

“I’ll of course be taking care of Mabel until Dipper comes back in time for her…”

“He might not.”

“We got over our grudges. They can do the same.” Ford said firmly. “Still, you have a point. Dipper might not be able to come back. Regardless, whether it’s for a short time, a long time, or for the rest of my life, I will take care of her. I might not be the best for her, I can acknowledge that…”

“C’mon, Sixer, don’t be like that.” Stan scolded lightly, giving a sympathetic look to the nerd. “What else can you do, y’know? There’s no way in hell you’re gonna give her up, I’ll kidnap her and run away to Canada before I let you…”

Ford laughed and waved a hand as he smiled. “No no, I promise I won’t.”

“Good.”

“The point is, she loves you. Clearly. And it takes two, and I’ll be busy with my research, especially once the snow melts and the anomalies become more active in the spring and summer, but…” Ford bit his lip. This was a bad idea. If he makes it seem that the only reason why Stan needs to be here is because of Mabel, if or when she’s gone, then Stan will have no reason to stay. And there were many reasons why Ford wanted Stan to stay.

Despite how much of a social-cripple Ford was, he knew that Stan was homeless. His frequent traveling and how full his car was right now was enough proof of that. And Ford hated that for his brother.

But there was another, bigger reason why Ford wanted Stan to stay. So he better just say it.

“Do you know why I went to Backupsmore?” Ford asked.

Stan’s facial expression darkened as he looked away and he shrugged. “Cuz I fucked up your project?”

“No,” Ford answered plainly. “I may not have been accepted into West Coast Tech, but there were so many other colleges that wanted me. I could apply to Yale or Harvard or any college from New York to California and instantly be accepted.

“But I didn’t.” The author added grimly. “Stanley, when you left… When you were gone, I was a mess. So many days I just lied in bed without meals or sleep. Ma was hysterical. I failed most of my exams and only barely scraped a C in the ones I didn’t fail. My GPA dropped significantly and I even lost my Honor Roll. Thankfully my past grades were enough to let me graduate with a 3.2, but my clean record was stained and a lot of prestigious colleges didn’t want me.

“All I wanted at that point was to get as far away from Glass Shard as possible. Luckily there was a small college outside of San Francisco that practically accepted everyone and had a wide range of studies to offer, so I applied and was accepted by graduation day.”

“Good for you.” Stan grunted.

“No! The point is, I…” Ford groaned, feeling like he was failing, but he had to try. “I understand if you don’t want to stay. I understand you have your own life and things you want to do, and I can live without you again if I have to, but… I really, really don’t want to. Yes, I know that part of growing up is going in different directions and being independent and all the other bells and whistles, but it doesn’t have to be. So, if you can tolerate living under the same roof as me again, and if you’re okay with it, I want to offer you a job.”

Stan raised an eyebrow at the six-fingered man. “What kinda job?”

“The committee gives me monthly boosts so I can continue my research. As long as I prove to them once a year that progress is being made, I have a good income coming in. It is a big job, exploring the large woods, climbing mountains and waterfalls, combing the lake, mapping the Enchanted Forest, and hunting down monsters and anomalies to learn more about them. I’ve always managed to make it out of trouble alright, but… I need a partner, and I want to keep it in the family.” Ford smiled at the last sentence.

“What are you saying?” Stan sneered, not daring to believe, not daring to hope, but that stupid smile Ford had…

“I’m saying I want you to do this with me, Stanley.” Ford said matter-of-factly. “I can share the grant with you after bills are paid and groceries are purchased. We can renovate the small room on the ground floor to be Mabel’s bedroom and you can have the entire attic as your own space.

“I know it’s not sailing around the world, but… Please. Will you give me another chance?” Ford pleaded with a soft smile.

Stan grinned and shook his head. “Shit, Sixer, you’re a better salesman than me.” He looked him in the eyes. “Okay. Yes. I’ll stay.”

Ford’s cheeks puffed with happiness as he smiled, his lips pressed together, and he looked ahead, happily daydreaming his future. Being surrounded by weirdness for a living was amazing by itself; doing it with his twin and raising their niece together on top of it was better than anything he could have imagined.

Stan was watching him and laughed good-naturedly, then held out a hand to him. Ford blinked at it like a startled owl, but then returned the smile and sealed the deal with a high-six.

Both brothers stood contently outside with their cigars for a minute, but then heard a bowl clatter on the floor. Mabel must be making a mess in the kitchen, which was fine.

What wasn’t fine was the sound that followed of a body falling on the floor.

Ford raised an eyebrow and called calmly, “Mabel, are you alright?”

They both expected a quick “yeah, sorry, I’m okay,” and maybe an explanation to follow, like she tripped getting down from a chair or something. But there was no reply.

“Mabel, sweetie?” Stan hollered, trying not to sound mad or scared or anything but cool-under-pressure, but this voice trembled with fear.

Still no answer.

Ford and Stan quickly discarded their cigars and bolted inside. Racing like children for cookies, they soon stood at the doorway of the kitchen and were horrified to find Mabel sprawled on the floor on her front, her hair scattered over her face to hide her expression, and her legs and bottom-half of her body slowly fading.

Literally. Fading. Mabel was fading away. She was disappearing like a stain on cloth.

“MABEL!” The men screamed and were immediately on their knees beside her. Ford scooped her up into his arms and felt her pulse and looked over her.

“What happened to her?!” Stan cried out. “Pumpkin, what’s wrong?!”

Ford’s eyes widened in panic as a horrifying realization slapped him in the face. “Mabel… You changed history.”

The tired girl nodded with her eyes closed. “If… If you guys had a fight… and never made up… in my timeline, then I guess…” Mabel paused to yawn tiredly. It didn’t hurt, but she was really sleepy now.“I guess that timeline doesn’t exist anymore, huh? I guess I don’t exist anymore.”

“WHAT?!” Stan yelled and took Mabel’s hand and squeezed it. “We have to do something! You’re family! You’re… We can’t just let you d- not exist!”

Ford held Mabel tighter and closer to his warm chest, making her smile. She swore she could hear his heartbeat. It was too fast. She would have to fix that. Poor Ford was also shaking like a leaf. Mabel could fix that, too.

“I’ll exist.” She smiled up at her uncles. “In a few years.”

Ford bit his lip. He shouldn’t ask this, it was probably dangerous to learn about the future, but the worst was already happening. What else could possibly happen that was worse than losing his girl? Ford couldn’t help but ask, “When?”

“August 31st, 1999.” Mabel’s eyes dazzled. “You’ll meet Dipper, too.” She shifted her eyes to only Stan and whispered, “Did you know you were there? You came to see us when we were born?”

Stan’s eyes watered as he smiled at the new piece of information. “I did?”

“You did. I came out first. You were so proud when I kicked the doctor in the jaw.”

Stan made a watery chuckle and wiped at his eye. “That’s my girl.”

“Dipper came next. He was blue. Umbilical cord wrapped around his neck.”

“Was he okay?” Stan asked.

“He was fine. You knew he would be. You never doubted.”

“I never will, pumpkin. I swear.”

The fading is now much worse. It was spreading over Mabel like a virus. Her legs were hardly visible to the naked eye, and even her shoulders were losing color. This Mabel is almost completely gone. 

Ford, pressed for time, bit his lip as tears flooded his eyes and he cupped Mabel’s cheek and cradled her. “I… I can’t let you go! We just started to become a real family! Wh-What am I going to do without you?!”

Mabel smiled and used the free hand not holding Stan’s trembling hand to caress Ford’s jaw and lower cheek, then cupping his face so her fingertips grazed his sideburn. “It’s okay, really. I’ll see you again, and next time it’ll be when both of you come to see us. Totally worth it.” 

Ford held his breath, and shut his eyes, a tear escaping from each eye and sitting comfortably in the corners of his windows to his soul. Stan hiccuped a laugh and rubbed her hand between both of his. Both of them were doing everything in their power not to cry. 

To that, Mabel laughed and said, “Boys are stupid. It’s okay to cry.”

The cursed power of Mabel. Making people be honest and breaking dams.

Ford curled into his niece, his face sloe to her heart, and cried gently. He wasn’t ready, but he didn’t think he could ever be ready for this.

Stan laughed with tears streaming down his face and he kissed Mabel’s tiny fingers trapped in his hold, then held their hands close to his bowed forehead and just focused on feeling her pulse between his palms.

It only lasted another minute.

Ford was mortified when his chest sank and his arms were empty. He threw himself back and stared at his lap and felt sick to his stomach to find his little girl missing.

Stan’s hands also clasped together and he squeezed tightly, his fists against his trembling lips as he cried.

The genius who always seemed to know what to do didn’t have a damn clue what to do with himself. He growled in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, then let out a painful howl and moan that most definitely disturbed birds and made a deer or two gallop farther away.

Ford removed his glasses and held his knees, sobbing his heart out. Stan blinked his tears off his eyes, resulting in them rolling down his face, as he watched his brother completely shatter to pieces. He had seen him upset before, sure; all those years of bullying, of Pa’s outbursts and sometimes physical punishments, hopelessness that he was actually worth something. You don’t spend seventeen years with a person and not see them break every so often, granted the blessing to help them put themselves back together again.

But Ford didn’t need Stan to swoop in and fix it. There were no bullies to punch or parents to stand against or jokes to crack that would make this okay. All Stan could do was throw his arms around him and bury his face into Ford’s shoulder and cry, too. 

So that’s what they did on the kitchen floor for over an hour.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dipper blinked to try to see, but all he saw around him was inky blackness for miles. His heart raced as he looked around for his sister. “Mabel? Mabel! Mabel, answer me!”

The boy scrambled and collapsed out of a portable potty at the fair. He blinked his eyes rapidly to adjust to the sunlight, scurrying off his hands and knees, clutching the warm time-machine in his hands. Wendy was still admiring her price and Robbie was still sulking, and Waddles was still trying to get away from Pacifica.

That didn’t matter! Mabel was stranded back in time! But how far back?! When was Mabel?! Dipper started jamming the button, but the machine wasn’t working, and it was soon swiped from him by a black-gloved hand.

“Mason Pines,” A gruff voice commanded above him and Dipper looked up to find two new guys with that Blendin guy. The two other guys were muscular and guarded with high-tech armor. 

“You are under arrest for violating the Time-Traveler's Code of Conduct and for jeopardizing the timestream.” The man labeled as Dundgren stated as serious as death.

“Do you have any idea how many rules you just broke?!” Blendin squawked. “I’m asking. I wasn’t there with you. It was probably a lot, right?”

“Wait, wait please!” Dipper begged as the two members of the Time Paradox Avoidance Enforcement Squadrent each grabbed the boy by an arm. “My sister! She’s still back there! We have to get her!”

“You have the right to remain silent.” The man labeled as Lolph informed robotically. “Anything you say can and already has been used in the Court of Time-Law.”

“Let me go, Mabel needs-...” And Dipper and the three time-travelers were blasted forward in time.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the endless space of time, Dipper was levitated off the ground by a giant baby using the power of his forehead-hourglass to trap him in a baby-blue field. Members of the the Time Paradox Avoidance Enforcement Squadrent circled the two, and Blendin stood with his arms crossed over his chest and smiling smugly as the kid who caused so much trouble was getting what he deserved.

“You and your sister have broken the eternal laws of space-time.”

“I’m sorry!” Dipper cried out, trying to fight the energy circling him, but it was futile. “I’m sorry! Do what you want to me, just help my sister!”

“Your sister does not require help, nor do you require punishment.” Time Baby informed as he held his feet. “You are lucky the events that occurred do not change anything drastically. However, your timeline has shifted and therefore this reality’s version of you and your sister are no longer viable and will cease to exist.”

“What?!” Dipper squeaked and looked down at his body to find his legs disappearing. “No no NO! What’s happening to me?!”

“You and your twin sister will be born again on August 31st, 1999, but too many things are different in your timeline for this version of you to continue to exist.”

“W-W-What did I do wrong?! What did I change?!” Dipper cried out as his whole body was drained of color. “What changed in our timeline?!”

“Your uncles have amended their bond thirty-four years ahead of schedule. As unfortunate as this is, your sister miraculously delayed the plans of Bill Cipher by an entire millennia.”

“What uncles?!” Dipper asked, panicked as the fading reached his neck. “Who’s Bill Cipher?!”

“If you wanted the answers you sought out, you should have been patient.” Time Baby scolded. “We all get the answers we seek… in time.”

“P-P-Please!” Dipper begged as he appeared as a ghost. “Please! What did Mabel do?!”

Time Baby cruelly stayed silent, testing Dipper’s strengths, but he was dying, anyways. Might as well.

“She met the Author of the Journals. Your missing uncle.”

Dipper’s eyes widened. “Mabel…” He rasped, and then he ceased to exist.

#GF #gravity falls #gravity falls au #timestuck au #fanfiction #stanford pines #stanley pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #angst #why did i write this? #cuz fuck you that's why #I HAD TO I’M SORRY #pls don't hate me

[cutegirlmayra]

Hi queen. So um what's your take on Boom Shadow's back story? He's so vaguely written in the boom universe, can you give us some good headcanons? Is he similar to Modern Shadow? Does his dislike for "friends" have something to do with losing a friend? Give me the goods 👀

It's been a long time since I've looked into Boom, lololol It was a hot minute of 'something' for us all, and I think I appreciate it because of that.

For this reason, I'll do my very best with making a Boom!Shadow past, forgive me if it seems like a comedic stretch ^^;

It at least explains things like why he's on the island and stuff.

PROMPTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN, DON'T SEND ANY TO ME PLEASE!

Prompt:

"I can't..." Sonic looked deep into Shadow's eyes, a serious expression on his face as Shadow's core seemed to break, finding this to be a betrayal.

"... You're weak..." He glared, as Sonic looked down, having found his own resolve in deciding to save his friends. "YOU'RE WEAK! I'll never forgive you for this... Sonic, the hedgehog!!!" A large blast of chaos burst from Shadow... Sonic was later celebrated as a hero, which infuriated Shadow even the more so...

To him, there was never an end to the world's injustice, and he vowed to make sure Sonic never forgot his betrayal...

To Shadow, Sonic had chosen the wrong path... instead of helping Shadow avenge the little girl...

Who had only wanted a Vacation.

"Isn't this wonderful, Shadow?" A little girl in a n old-timey, blue summer dress held her wide-rim hat and smiled down to him, holding a bucket with some beach toys in it as she looked around the island, excited to finally be back on earth again.

"Remember, Maria... Your treatments..." Shadow cautioned, "This planet isn't safe for you to-"

"Oh, don't worry about me, Shadow!" She turned back and smiled warmly to him, "This is a Vacation! It means to leave all your worries behind and just destress." She took in a deep breath, then coughed violently.

"Ah... Maria, I told you!" he held up his hands to catch her bent body, but she just smiled at him, covering her mouth.

"N-no, it's just the sea air... I'm not used to it... that's all." She got, weakly, back up. "Grandfather's spaceship was so cramped..." she looked sorrowfully down.

"And desolate..." Shadow clenched a fist, glaring to it harshly. "They stopped his experiments and called them abominations! Abominations? Heh, I'm the ultimate lifeform..."

She giggled, which seemed to offend him as he jolted a bit and looked at her, appalled.

"What's wrong with stating what I am?" He questioned her, and she patted his head, rubbing it affectionately as though a sister.

"We're gonna leave that old past behind us now, Shadow... And enjoy our vacation!" she chimed, racing down towards the beach, "Haha! Come on!"

"Maria!" He stretched a hand out to her, worried... Such exercise wasn't good on her body... "If she trips, the sand will get in her eyes... then I'll have to deal with her crying..." He muttered, but... there was a hint of love in his mumbled statement.

He casually walked down to the shore and folded his arms and stood like a bodyguard on a mission, he didn't join her in her sandcastle activities.

"Shadow," She looked behind her, "Come play!" She tugged gently on his gloved part of his wrist.

"Hmph, I don't have time to play such silly games with you. There could be danger on this planet. I'm standing guard, keeping watch over any suspicious activity..." He narrowed his sights to the jungles...

The world, to Shadow, wasn't all that different... Back then, there were still threats, and still wicked, heartless people out there just waiting to cause more suffering to Maria...

Maria was everything to him... his entire world rests upon her health, safety, and happiness...

But...

What was happiness?

He looked over his shoulder, seeing her smile had lessened somewhat but never was removed from her face. He had never seen her frown... so he did it for her.

She had ever reason to be upset, but she never seemed so. Always hopeful, cheery, pleasant with her painful treatments... it sickened him.

He turned around and started to help with the sandcastle, "You're doing it wrong. It's like this, make the base a structure... See that?" he had a little mound. "Science." It suddenly deflated and rolled down to a pile of sand again. His arms came down, "Ohh..."

Maria giggled, as he looked over to her, a bit harshly.

"What's so funny?"

"That was the ultimate tutorial!" she laughed more openly, as he got up and kicked the sand, showing his frustrations. "O-oh, no, don't do that!" she put her hand to his arm, "See? Even when we fail sometimes..." she started to dip some water from her pail that she scooped from the bucket. "We can always just try again... and again, and again... until at last-!" she mimicked his arms parting to show the now--perfect--sand spire for her castle.

He watched and huffed, turning away, "It's... adequate."

"And will you be my prince of the castle, Shadow?" Maria's gentle question surprised him... he didn't feel he was very princely... whatever a prince was meant to be...

But he would protect her... he thought he would protect her... he wished he could have protected her...

Flames corrupted the memory...

Shadow was walking out of a government institution, holding in his hand a vile, and looked as though he had gone to war and back... the building exploded behind him with men crying out for their lives.

Then a small voice, "I'm okay!"

Shadow stopped, and looked to the side, zipping off before coming back to his slow, awesomely cool walk.

"Ow! I'm definitely not okay now!"

Shadow... finally smiled, "Hmph."

Before this...

"I'm sorry! It's just that... well, the industry is being pretty stingy about giving us small villages any appropriate medicines besides the case of common colds and things of that nature... And I'm afraid that even though you could afford the medicine, we just don't have any in our supply... I'm so sorry." The village doctor spoke as though it was tragic, as though Maria would have to be moved to the city...

Shadow stepped in front of Maria, who looked down as though losing hope, but her smile never left her, "I under- Ah! Shadow!" she cried out as he gripped the doctor's jacket ends by her neck, hoisting her up.

"Now, you listen to me, Doctor Obvious. If Maria doesn't get those treatments, she'll lose her smile, and if she loses her smile, I'll-!"

"Shadow, please!" Maria reached for him but suddenly fell down from the chair and started coughing into her hand.

He let the doctor go and turned to look back at her, "Maria!" he bent to her side, trying to hold her, but feeling pathetically useless to help save her.

"T-there... is a factory." The doctor rubbed his neck and stood back, catching his breath and bracing against the back of his small hut. "You could always ask them?"

Shadow looked up, "Oh, I'll do all the asking." He tightened his fist.

50 years had passed since Maria's passing... Shadow had collapsed and become a recluse in a cave... When the G.U.N soldiers came to arrest him for how many institutions he had robbed medicines for to try and save her life...

"She would have died, anyway, sir.", "It's just not possible to save her in this state.", "Even with the medicine and treatments now, she's far too weak to even swallow them... I think it's time to let her go, Shadow..."

He hid from the government... until he met Sonic The Hedgehog.

Another loner, like himself?

Arrogant and cocky,... but he could use that.

The two formed an unlikely 'duo', but they were nowhere considered friends.

Sonic was a rebel without a cause, and so Shadow could easily manipulate him and taught him better control of his speed.

Sonic learned from Shadow but Shadow also learned from Sonic, they were an unlikely pair, but that all changed... all the 'hero work' that Sonic thought he was doing came to an end when it was revealed that Sonic was only helping Shadow's bigger... ultimate plan...

He was going to take down the government... starting on the small island.

Sonic had met his friends by then, and they were being threatened by Eggman, who Shadow didn't mind because Eggman was the perfect distraction while he snuck in and destroyed G.U.N resources.

"I can't be apart of your revenge anymore, Shadow." It was truly Sonic who felt betrayed, but also... he had found a new path.

He left to pursue being a hero and good friend... but first, he really didn't know how to get along with his newfound 'team of friends', being so used to Shadow's discipline and aloof nature, he had just naturally stuck to himself regardless.

From then on... it was no doctors, no government rule... but Shadow's terms that only mattered...

Morals were irrelevant and a waste of time, friends were weaknesses best left to the dust of power's wake, and Sonic...

He was an injustice, a false hero... who had to be dealt with...

Sonic was nothing more than a foe that needed to be eradicated... if Shadow's 50-year planning could ever truly happen... And just added to his revenge as another obstacle towards true justice... For Sonic had stopped him one too many times in his chaotic quest... to destroy those who took Maria's smile...

Forever...

#boom!shadow #shadow prompt #sonic boom prompt #sonci boom #cutegirlmayra #shadow the hedgehog #shadow boom

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

The real Sirius Black

Sirius Black was a very special boy. For instance, everyone at Hogwarts knew who he was. For many, he was the most handsome lad. Many girls (even boys) wanted to date him, others wanted to be like him. Sirius Black was an icon around Hogwarts. The first Black to be sorted into Gryffindor. Prankster legend, always making the funniest jokes and comments in class. He was most teacher's favourite. He had the reputation of the bad boy, a player who broke girl's hearts daily. Sirius Black, the legend.

Nobody knew the real Sirius Black.

Sirius was the most insecure of the Marauders even more than Remus and nobody noticed. He had had a horrible experience with his family. Sirius never showed his true feelings or at least he tried. He wanted to keep his reputation. He kept a smile, he would make a joke or get drunk so he could act goofy around everyone.

Every summer he would experience the worst. His parents made him feel so small. So vulnerable. He hated that feeling.

The real Sirius was sensible, romantic, too depending on love and attention. He cared too much and too deeply. He wasn't a play boy. Sirius had never been in love. Sirius was scared of his sexuality. He was scared of his real temper. But he would do anything for his friends. Specially Remus Lupin.

It was the summer of 1975. Sirius was invited to the Potter's beach House along with Remus and Peter. Remus had a hard time convincing his father to let him go. Since he was a werewolf and he would have to transform there. The boys and Mr. and Mrs. Potter eventually convinced him.

Remus Lupin had to transform in the basement. And the next day all the boys wanted to see him. "I will get in first" Fleamont had said "Do you hear me? I would let you know when to get in"

The boys nodded impatiently. But the minute Fleamont opened the door, Sirius ran inside. He was too impatient. "SIRIUS..." Fleamont yelled. But he didn't pay attention.

Sirius got downstairs and he saw Remus lying on the floor. His body was all brused, dirty and ...naked. Sirius blushed for some reason. He kneeled beside his friend.

"Remus.." he whispered Remus hummed in response, opening his eyes slightly. "Sirius?" Sirius smiled "Yeah it's me. I'm here"

Fleamont came downstairs as well with a blanket. "I told you to wait Sirius" he said "Don't ever do that again" he sounded kind of angry but mostly worried. "Sorry Mr. Potter. I was so worried"

Fleamont smiled covering Remus' nudity.

"Remus? Does something hurt?"

Remus murmured something like 'knee" with still a sleepy voice. Fleamont nodded. "Okay, this is gonna hurt a bit okay?" he took out his wand. Sirius instantly grabbed Remus hand. This was the first time he had watched Remus like that. They only had seen him already fixed and rested at The Hospital Wing. Fleamont flicked his wand muttering something and Remus screamed in pain. Sirius squeezed his hand. "It's okay Remmy"

Remus was fixed in no time. Sirius didn't want to leave him. He stayed with him. Watching Remus sleep. He looked so peaceful. Sirius wanted to touch Remus' hair. But he didn't dare. His heart was beaiting fast. "Sirius?" Euphemia said. She was looking at him from the door frame "Why don't you let him sleep sweetheart. Come down for breakfast. You can be with him when he wakes up"

Sirius looked at Remus again. He didn't want to leave him but he nodded following Euphemia downstairs. And just like that Sirius Black had a crush on his best friend.

It was Sirius idea to become an animagus for Remus. To help him, to be with him. And he managed to do it, to be with Remmy every full moon. And do everything for the boy he loved.

The real Sirius Black secretly hated himself because sometimes he didn't think before acting. He was so afraid of being like his family. And sometimes the nightmares were too strong to ignore. Sometimes he just felt too bad to even hide it.

Normally, Sirius and James would joke around, they wouldn't talk about serious stuff. It wasn't their thing. But James noticed how Sirius' joy lowered everytime before summer breaks or winter breaks. When Sirius had to go home.

Sirius came all brused and crying to James' house the summer of 1976. He didn't speak. Euphemia and Fleamont fixed Sirius' bruses and warmed him up. James was so worried. But Sirius didn't want to speak.

James owled the boys. Remus and Peter. They came the next day. Sirius pretended he was fine of course. He was playing Potter's piano when the boys arrived.

"What happened?" Remus asked clearly worried. "He came all brused last night" whispered James looking at him with concern "I reckon his parents did something to him, but he doesn't want to speak" "Shit.." Peter said.

James approached his friend smiling "Hey mate, look who is here"

Sirius looked at his friends and he instantly smiled. "Heey boys" he said "Guess what? I'm a Potter now. Meaning I would inherite half of their gold" There he was again. Always joking to hide his feelings.

"You wish" James joked.

"Are you okay Sirius?" Remus asked worried

"Yeah. I couldn't be better" Sirius clearly lied "I was hoping to leave that stupid household. I'm free now!" The boys looked at him with concern.

"You're lucky" Peter commented awkwardly "I would like to leave my annoying mother sometimes" Sirius laughed.

"Yeah. We should celebrate" he said "James do you think we can take your father's licor?"

"Don't you dare!"

Remus Lupin sighed he wasn't convinced Sirius was fine.

Later that night, the boys felt asleep on the Potter's leaving room, after drinking and chatting a bit. James Potter woke up to go to the loo as always. And he didn't find Sirius there. James got instantly worried.

James looked all over the house whispering his name not to wake anyone up. Until he got to the second floor bathroom. James opened the door slowly, and to his horror, he saw Sirius there. His naked torso showed some of the worst bruses and scars he's ever seen. He gasped. When Sirius noticed he jumped.

"GET OUT!" Sirius said

"Sirius, what... Let me see"

"No!" Sirius was covering his body, embarrassed. "Sirius" James approached him carefully "Let me see..."

"No leave me alone!"

"Sirius let me..." James tried to touch him but Sirius pushed him away.

"No.."

"Sirius..."

"Fucking leave!!"

Sirius bursted into tears. He broke down like never before, not in front of anyone at least. Not in front of James. He was so embarrassed. James hugged him. "It's okay..." Sirius sobbed "Please don't tell anyone"

"I won't. I won't"

The real Sirius also was too insecure. Always afraid of abandonment. Issues he had aquired from his terrible childhood.

In 1981, Voldemort and his followers were too powerful. There was even a spy within the Order of Phoenix. Sirius became so paranoic. He had been dating Remus for a while now. He was so in love with that boy. But he made up all these ideas on his head about Remus being the spy. That he chose that path before staying another day with Sirius. That his relationship with Remus was too good to be true. "If you are going to leave me just do it!" he had yelled in one of their fights.

"Sirius you're being irrational! I would never do this, how can you think..."

"I don't know you anymore..."

"You are not the boy I feel in love with" said Remus with tears on his eyes "Just because I am a werewolf? You have become so prejudiced. Jumping into conclusions, just like your parents..."

Sirius jumped "SHUT UP! YOU'RE A FUCKING MONSTER" Remus went pale and began crying. Sirius realized what he had said.

"Rem... Remus I'm sorry.. I didn't..."

"Don't touch me..."

Remus started walking again.

"Remus! Please Remus don't leave me... I love you..." Sirius cried dropping to the floor. He had become like his parents and he hated it, he hated himself.

Nobody knew the real Sirius. For many years the entire Wizarding World thought Sirius Black was a murderer. He had the type didn't he? Rebellious, explosive, member of the Black Family. With his tattoos, motorbike, dark robes. Everything fitted. Who wouldn't believe Sirius to be a criminal. A death eater. A killer.

The real Sirius Black was a good boy victim of the circumstances. The real Sirius Black suffered so much. The real Sirius Black deserved love, respect, friendship and happiness. The real Sirius Black deserved better.

#harry potter #marauders #maraudersera #marauders headcanon #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #wolfstar #remus x sirius

[fandomscombine]

Baseless Jealousy

Oliver Wood Cousin!Reader x Jealous!Fred Weasley

WC:2307

BG: Fred and y/n’s relationship is currently 3 years long strong. After a summer apart, it seems to be a 3rd party had become closer to y/n. Is it something that Fred has to worry about or is it just baseless jealousy?

a/n: The pairing the won for this fic is Oliver Wood Cousin!Reader x Jealous! Fred Weasley, Thanks so much for voting!

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

--

You and Fred started dating 3 years ago. Fred would like to believe that the relationship is strong, other people believes it so too. However ever since the start of 5th year, something started to get on his nerves, or should he say someone.

See, Fred had noticed you getting closer to his Quidditch captain, Oliver wood. He didn’t want to blame it on the summer you two spent apart but he could quite help himself. You had spent the entire apart, no letters whatsoever. At first, he tried to be understanding, it was after all a summer you and your family spent in Italy while attending your aunt’s wedding, you had told him that this was the first time in 8 years that the whole side of your mother’s family was present as they were all scattered into various parts of the world. He understood the importance of family so he had let it slide that you and he hadn’t communicated in the past 2 months- besides, it must be really exhausting to overwork the owls to post cross country.

Which was why he was so excited to finally see you in person at Platform 9 ¾ on the first of September, to his dismay, you had arrived with Oliver Wood. Back then he had pushed his jealousy aside and concluded as a coincidence that you had turned up together at the barrier. You and Oliver are just friends, he told himself, and that was completely fine.

Fred had sneaked a hug behind you and whispered into your ear. ‘Had a great summer?’

You had jumped at the touch but once you realised who is was from you relaxed. ‘Ohh Freddie!’ You turned and hit his chest. ‘Don’t scare me like that!’ Earning a laugh from him. ‘I did, I had such great times catching up with my cousins! You wouldn’t believe how much trouble we almost got into. But of course.’ Your fingers played with the back of his head. ‘I missed having my love around.’

~

‘Hey love I’m off to Quidditch practice now.’ Fred informed, kissing your cheek. ‘Will you be there?’ Ever since you and Fred got together 3 years ago, you would go cheer him on during Quidditch practices whenever you can.

This year however, more are at stake.

During the semi-finals, Quidditch matches are dotted with professional quidditch team mangers in hopes to scout for potential recruits to join their team upon graduation.

It is rumoured that the manager for Puddlemere United would be attending the next match, Hufflepuff vs Gryffindor. Puddlemere United being Oliver’s favourite and dream team, he had been pushing the team with more frequent trainings then ever, hoping to perform the best game they would ever play, to further increase his chances to chosen to be part of the team.

You looked up from the letter you were writing. ‘Yep, just gotta make a quick stop to the owlery. I’ll soon you soon okay?’

~

Arriving at the owlery, a large parcel instantly caught your eye. ‘Oh mum..’ Examining for any potential damage, which thankfully weren’t any.

The barn owl nearest it hooted. ‘Alright! Alright! I was looking if there were damages.’ The owl flapped its wings in annoyance. ‘Here,’ offering your owl some treats. ‘You’ll need to store up some energy on the way back.’ Another hoot sounded, this time from a grey owl, that you recognised belonged too your mother. ‘There’s some for you too.’ After the 2 owls finished their food, you attached your letter your owl’s leg. ‘This is for mother, a thank you note on behalf of Ollie. I’ll write another when we see his reaction to this-I can’t wait.’ You bid the 2 birds goodbye, watching until they disappear unto the horizon.

Now you turn to face your major problem. You had thought that your mother would have had it placed in a box, rather what you got was a large parcel that is clearly wrapped with parchment, with no subtlety in hiding what it truly is.

~

You had finally manged to sneak the parcel into the Gryffindor boys’ locker room, though it had taken a lot more effort than you thought.

You were just leaving when you had bumped into someone.

‘oopf! Sorr-‘

‘y/n love! What are you doing here?’  Fred wondered, looking over your shoulder, trying to figure out what you were up to. ‘You missed the whole practice.’

‘ohh it’s nothing really----Ayyeee! Not so fast!’ You grabbed Harry’s shoulder, preventing him in enter any further. In all honestly, you hadn’t hidden Oliver’s surprise well, there aren’t a lot of hiding places in the changing room. Determined to not ruin the surprise, you need, you must get Oliver to see it first. ‘Had any of you seen Oli-‘

Right then you heard his unmistakably Scottish accent. ‘I’m just saying George, with this new and improve game plan, we are for sure going win the House Cup!’

‘Oliver!’ You shouted, pushing your boyfriend and Harry aside to reach him. ‘Come quick, I’ve got something to show you!’ With all your strength you hauled him to move faster.

‘What is it now y/n? Can’t you see I’m……..’ Oliver had come to a stop. Based on his sudden lack of complaining, you knew he spotted it.

‘It’s a gift from mum and dad. We thought it would future help your chances to be in the professional league.’ You noted. ‘I wasn’t sure which one of these was your locker, so I decided to just hide it behind the benches.’

Oliver hurriedly torn away the wrappings. ‘Oh my…. y/n! A FIREBOLT!’ He turned towards his teammates with eyes watery. ‘A FIREBOLT, A 1993 EBONY WOOD WITH BIRCH TWIGS FIREBOLT!’ He declared with glee.

Too caught up in your cousin’s precious reaction to your gift, you however had failed to noticed Fred displeasure.

‘I think I’m gonna be sick. So much for a girlfriend.’ He grumbled to George. ‘Excuse me.’ Shoving his broom to Harry, Fred walked out of the locker room.

The next thing you knew, you were spinning through the air. Oliver had lifted you in celebration, ‘Thank you y/n thank you so much!’ He mumbled into your hair. ‘Pass on my gratitude to Aunty and Uncle.’  

‘Wait? Did you just say Aunty and Uncle?’ voiced a very confused Harry.

‘Yea.’ Confirmed Oliver. ‘Y/n is my cousin.’

George’s bafflement turned into a startle. ‘You’re joking right?’

‘No, why would be joking George?’ You frowned. ‘Didn’t you know?’

‘Nope’ He replied, popping the “p”. ‘Now it clears everything up. Freddie is going to be--.’

‘Speaking of, where is Freddie?’ You scanned around, wondering where he might have gone to. Which was when you spotted Harry holding up not one but two brooms. ‘Harry…’

‘y/n listen…..Freddie is uhh ’ George was trying to come up how to break it to you gently.

When Harry blurted out. ‘He left.’

‘He whot?’ demanded Oliver.

‘He left, said something about being sick of his girlfriend.’ Commented Harry frankly. ‘owhh!’

Even though it would have been too late to stop Harry from spitting out more wrongfully worded sentences- the damaged has been done- It still made George happy to put some sense into him. Praying that a smack on the head would have made Harry shut up, George took control of the situation, hoping it could still salvage the weakening remain of his twin’s and y/n relationship.

‘Listen y/n. Regarding my idiot brother, you got to know that he, like everyone else in the room, had thought that you and Oliver were flirting with each other.’

‘eww!’ You couldn’t control your reflex.

‘yeah, his emotions got to the best of him when he witnessed everything that got down here and stormed out because of jealousy.’

‘Oh gosh.’ You head towards the door, you could see a red figure walking towards the castle, kicking at fallen leaves every now and then. ‘I’ve got to get to him.’

You felt someone grab your arm ‘No let me handle this y/n.’ voiced Oliver. ‘I’m part of this… complication after all, besides I bet Fred’s fuming right now and as your older cousin, I am willing to take the heat and make him see reason until he has finally calmed down to talk to you with a clear head.’ He explained reassuringly.

‘But---

‘No buts.’ Oliver kissed your forehead. ‘Stay here and send for him back so all this misunderstanding could be sorted out. Now…’ he addressed Harry to get his new firebolt. ‘I’ve got a relationship to fix.’ Oliver hopped on the broom and sped away.

~

‘Fred! Fred!’ Screamed Oliver.

Fred choose to ignore him, picking up his pace.

Leaving Oliver with no choice but to cut him off.

‘WEASLEY!’ Oliver jumped off his broom.

‘Get Out of My Way Wood!’ Fred raised his hand to shove the other boy away but met with resistance. ‘I SAID GET OUT!’ Fred tried to free his fist from Oliver’s grasp, but the older boy was much stronger.

‘Not until you calm down and listen to what I have to say.’

‘Fine.’ Oliver let go of him, he raised his arms high in surrender. ‘y/n sent you, didn’t she?’

‘No. I came here on my own will. I told her to stay behind to protect her.’ Oliver confessed.

‘To protect her?’ scoffed Fred. ‘From what? From me?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact.’

‘Oh of course, it’s HER who needs protecting and not me. Not me, after I see you both shamelessly act so close to one another, closer, might I tell you then her own boyfriend! If was as if I wasn’t there’

‘Fred,’

Fred brushed his hand away, ignoring Oliver’s interruption. ‘When did you two get so close anyway? You know at first, I tried to pass it off as friendship but as time when on, I could help but think-‘

‘Y/N IS MY COUSIN!’ blurted Oliver, unable to hear another person thinking that they were other than family. ‘THERE’S NOTHING GOING ON BETWEEN US!’

‘what?’  

‘Apparently for some reason most of you lot don’t know. George and Harry were just as surprised too. But yes, y/n is my cousin, on my father’s side. My father and her mother are brothers and sisters. I thought with all these years we’ve known each other that you’d know we’re related. Guess I was wrong.’

‘I….I didn’t know.. I’m sorry.’

‘Apology accepted but we both know there is someone more deserving of hearing that apology.’ Oliver nodded towards the locker room. ‘She’s there waiting.’

‘Thank you, Oliver.’ He held out his hand. ‘Friends?’

‘Friends’ Oliver shook his hand, the stared straight into his eyes. ‘BUT…’

‘but?’

‘But if you hurt her again Weasley, you have me to answer for, that is of course after she’s done her share.’ Without another word, Oliver flew off, testing out his new gift.

~

Fred ran full speed ahead, praying that he didn’t completely ruin a wondering 3-year relationship with the girl of his dreams. Before entering the room, he conjured up a bouquet of your favourite flowers, hoping that could help out his image.

Testing the waters, he called. ‘y/n? are you in here love?’

‘In here’ you sighed. He hated hearing you so sad. He hated it more that it was him causing you to feel that way.

Cautiously he made his way to you with arms outstretched. You accepted the flowers, to that he let himself relax a bit, bringing them up to you nose, you noted. ‘They smell nice, thank you.’

Fred was grateful that you hadn’t scolded him off on his baseless jealousy, still he knew he had to apologize and win his girl back. Kneeling in front where you sat, Fred took your hands and poured out his heart.

‘Y/n, I am sorry. I made a huge mistake, I… I got jealous of how you had gotten close to Oliver this year.’ He confessed.’ Ever since the start of this year, I thought that Oliver was stealing you away from me. I thought that perhaps you two had something going on behind my back.’

Chuckling to himself he continued. ‘I didn’t even realise that you were cousins until he told me just now. I feel so stupid. 3 years together, 5 years of knowing you. It was so obvious.’ Fred closed his eyes.

‘Still, with my worries, I should have asked, asked what you and Oliver were.’ He stressed. ‘I should have come and talked to you, to sort this out like what a, healthy, trusting and understanding relationship would. But instead I keep all my doubts and insecurities brew, I went deep into my own conclusions that were without evidence, I let my jealousy get the best of me.’

Fred brought your knuckles to his lips. ‘y/n love, I’m sorry. I love you and if you want a space, I understand. But there is no a day in this world where I would not rather be back in your loving arms. I hope that you could forgive me.’

‘Freddie, I forgive you.’ You cup his tear stained cheek. ‘It was just a stupid misunderstanding.’

Gesturing for him to sit beside you ‘I thought it was common knowledge that Oliver and I are cousins. Apparently not. Yes, we weren’t that close before.’ You admitted.  ‘But we really did get to know each other in the summer. 5 weeks either being sounded by adult relatives or small children, we hung out often, being the only 2 cousins similar in age.’

You return back into a more serious tone. ‘Of course, I did wish you had voiced it out, we could have avoided this conflict altogether. So, promise me this. Whatever problems may arise, before we delved into our own assumptions, we would always talk it out. Alright?’

‘I promise.’

~

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