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spinningwebsandtales · 2 years ago

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Angel Of Death

A Stranger Things AU

Vampire Eddie Munson X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Blood, horror, bullying, name calling, Vecna is a jerk

Word Count: 8.2k words

(A/N:) Hello sweet readers and Happy Halloween season! It’s finally here and I am ready to share all the spooky horrors and sweet fall season fluffs! I’m starting out with a doozy of a fanfic that I worked awhile on! I’m obsessed with the thought of vampire Eddie I just had to write something and so this fic is the product of that thought. I can’t wait to share my other imagines but this one is quite special as I hardly have time to write really long fanfics. So I am very happy to be able to kick of this Halloween season with a bang! So keep an eye peeled for my other stories as I had several ideas this year! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The earthquake that had rocked Hawkins had left a wound that festered amongst the residents. Many had abandoned the place they knew as home and some stayed. Your family were among the few that stayed and life had become quite the living nightmare. School had been canceled for the year as strange happenings had begun in the town of Hawkins. You weren’t allowed to leave the house, but you snuck out most nights to visit your friends but to mostly look for Eddie Munson. He had been missing for so long now that even his uncle had given up trying to find him. Everyone believed him dead, but you weren’t willing to give up just yet. Most people didn’t know about the close friendship you had with the metalhead outcast of Hawkins. Childhood friends just didn’t stop being friends so easily, though Eddie made you stay away in public for your image alone. It had been an argument that you and him had had quite often and he won out every time. But that never stopped you from going to see him in the evening to hang out.

Before he disappeared you never told him that your friendship with him had become something more to you, but now that he was gone you were never going to be able to tell him how you felt. Now as you sat around your family’s dinner table mainly pushing the remaining food around you thought more of where you could search for Eddie.

“(Y/N),” your mother spoke gaining your attention. “Your father and I think you better stay in tonight. Hawkins PD have given an earlier curfew and we don’t want you getting caught out.”

You nodded pasting a smile on your face, “Sure mom I’ll stay home.”

You hated lying to them, despite the other young adults your age you still got along just fine with your parents. But you had, no needed, to find Eddie. You were going crazy without him, surely if he was here everything would be so much better. You excused yourself from the table taking your dishes into the kitchen.

. You had a few more hours until your parents would be occupied with their regular nightly television so you took the time to gather everything you needed to go out and look. Sitting cross legged on your bed while watching the sun dip down behind the trees through your bedroom window you remembered all the times you and Eddie would watch the sun go down at his place. You would cook him something to eat and then you two would just hang out and joke around. He was the easiest person to be around, the one who knew you the most. He also helped you more than anyone as well, so now you felt like it was your turn. The sun was finally set and you heard the TV come on. Now was your chance. Luckily your room was on the backside of the house and led straight into the woods so there was no chance of your parents spotting you leaving. Leaving the light on and some music playing in the background you made your escape.

“I’m going to my room to study,” you announced. Though school was canceled you did try to do a few things to keep everything fresh in your mind. You still had college to think about after the nightmare ended

Slipping into the depths of the trees you powered on your flashlight to open the map you bought several months ago. X’s were scattered all across the paper where you had already searched and found no traces, tonight you were going to start somewhere else. Skull Rock was the next place on your list according to your search pattern. It was going to be quite the trek, but you knew deep down if it was you who was missing Eddie would go to the very depths of the Underworld to find you. So you would do the same for him. There was no bugs this late in the year as the nights were beginning to grow colder. Walking through the trees you were able to spot some of the neighborhood houses, Halloween decorations twinkling further out in the night.

Used to you would be so excited to dress up and spend another Hallows Eve with Eddie, this year like last year was no different. You couldn’t get excited for any holiday, even Christmas made you feel hallow and numb. Eddie was your constant in life your reason to continue, now that reason was snatched away. You wiped the tears that made their way past the barrier you had created. No tears. You had made a promise you would cry when you finally found him. Safe, whole, and perfectly Eddie.

Further into the woods, the more anxious you became. Would you finally find something? Would Hawkins PD finally find out what you were doing and tell your parents? Man you just knew you would be grounded for eternity. You stepped across a groundhog hole sucking in a breath when chills went up your spin. Your clammy skin erupting into goosebumps. You had the uncanny feeling of being watched. You shut off the flashlight for a moment letting the moon shine brightly where you stood. Without making a noise you looked around the surrounding bushes and bare trees. A twig snapped causing you to jump and turn your flashlight back on. Shining it in the direction of the noise you spotted the owner of the hole you just stepped over not too long ago.

“Ugh,” you sighed in relief. “Give me a heart attack why don’t you?!”

Laughter filled the woods suddenly stopping your heart before you rushed to hide behind a tree. You barely breathed when a group of teenagers passed your hiding spot by. They had just left Skull Rock and once again you found yourself sighing in relief. Despite seeing other people out you couldn’t shake the feeling you weren’t alone and it wasn’t the teenagers that just passed you or the furry critter you saw earlier. An overwhelming sense of darkness was squeezing at you, but you couldn’t stop. You needed to keep going.

Unexplainable terror squeezed your heart and lungs the closer you got to Skull Rock. Your body screamed for you to turn around and just forget the whole thing, though your stubborn mind was made up. You compromised to yourself that once you looked over Skull Rock really well you would go straight home where it was safe. The large rocks greeted your vision but the hollowed out eyes and gaping maw of the skull shaped boulder made you shiver. You could have sworn that the stupid thing was grinning at you, getting a great kick out of your wild imagination. Brushing the light against the ground you looked for any sign of your best friend. You searched for a ring, an extra pick he always kept, a scrap of fabric, you’d even settle for a lock of hair. Anything that pointed to the sign that he had been there at all. But all that littered the ground was empty beer bottles, discarded cigarette butts, and other unmentionable items. You shivered in disgust before feelings of despair settled in. This always happened after every time you checked a place and wound up empty handed.

“Eddie where are you,” you whispered choking back sobs. Another twig snapped and you glared in the direction. “Stop following me you stupid groundhog! It wasn’t funny the first time and it’s not funny now!”

Another snap and a hiss followed. Your blood froze and you dropped the light when your fingers went numb. Out of the shadows something stepped forward behind you it’s breath brushing against your sweaty neck. You shivered violently frozen in place, you could have sworn something said your name. Before a screeching noise pierced the blackened sky. You were knocked to the ground by a large bat like shadow. It sent you sprawling before you quickly crawled towards your flashlight. Grabbing it you took off through the woods, trying to escape whatever creature that had found you.

Branches reached out and grabbed at your face, roots tangled up your feet sending you stumbling through the pitch black darkness. Even the moon had abandoned you. Your name was whispered through the gnarled trees. How did it know your name? Why did it sound so familiar? And why could you not seem to outrun this pursuing nightmare? You would scream for help but your terror sealed your throat shut. It was hard enough to gain enough air to keep you going forward at your pace. Those moments of pure horror continued when you fell out of the woods but you couldn’t stop you had to keep going. You could hear the maniacal laughter echoing where you once stood. That chilling voice sounding so familiar. It wasn’t until you hauled yourself through your window scratched, bleeding, and still shaking uncontrollably did you finally feel safe. That’s when you cried. Frustration and fear mixing into a feeling you never wanted to endure again.

It was really late now and your parents had gone to bed so you rushed to your bathroom to clean yourself up. You looked like crap with sticks stuck in your ponytail and face all scratched up. If you didn’t get yourself cleaned up enough you were going to have to come up with an alibi for your parents. Telling them you went to Skull Rock by yourself in the dark when they specifically told you that you couldn’t go out wasn’t going to fly with them. If you wanted to keep searching for Eddie you had to keep your home from becoming Alcatraz.

You started the shower with trembling hands, despite being home and calming down some you couldn’t make the shakes stop completely. You stepped into the hot spray letting the water clean all the grime from your body until you were satisfied and content. Wrapping yourself up into a towel you dug through your cabinets for wound disinfectant and some bandages. Maybe you could tell your parents that you were attacked by a rogue pencil. Or your paper attacked you while you were taking notes. You snorted to yourself at the silly excuses, while cleaning a pretty nasty scratch on your leg. You tossed the cotton ball in the trash when the lights of your bathroom started to flicker. You tried the switch a couple times but it didn’t turn the lights off nor on, they just continued to flicker causing an eerie light show like a demented disco.

You were about to call for your dad when the lights finally flickered once more before staying on. You sighed in relief deciding that you needed sleep. When you turned back to the mirror you saw a dark shadow in the glass. You stumbled back hitting the bathroom door in panic before looking back and seeing the shadow gone. You quickly got dressed and raced back to your room, sock feet muffled against the floor. You shut your door as quietly as possible and jumped into bed. Your body started trembling again and this time for the first time you didn’t feel safe at home. You hid yourself under your thick blankets wishing everything to go away and leave you alone. Nothing was heard through the house, everything staying eerily quiet. You felt safe enough to peek out of your covers when the radio clicked on. It surfed through the local stations on it’s own. Static and small pieces of different songs flowed through your room when it landed on the local station that played mostly metal music. Metallica’s Disposable Heroes filled the air the heavy guitars driving deep into your brain.

“Stop,” you shouted at the radio. It ignored you continuing to play before a shadow loomed over you in the darkness of your room. Clawed hands reached for you and you shrank back watching it in horror.

“Leave me alone,” you whimpered. The creature cackled evilly a glowing red eye piercing the depths of it’s form. Suddenly the radio shut off and the shadow left leaving you alone. You jumped again when a knock sounded from your bedroom door.

“(Y/N) is everything alright,” your father asked. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Dad,” you cried and he was at your bedside immediately.

“It’s okay,” he comforted you.

“The radio started playing and I swear I saw something.”

“I’m sure it’s just a short,” he replied stroking your hair soothingly. “We’ll get you a new one tomorrow that way it won’t just switch on again.”

You highly doubted that was the case since between the lights and then the monster that seemed to haunt you now. You began to wonder if Skull Rock was cursed now and you somehow brought the curse back home with you. Eddie wasn’t there anyway so you really didn’t know what to do. But you couldn’t give up you couldn’t let yourself lose him forever.

The next morning your mom made your favorite for breakfast while your father planned a shopping trip. He had explained to your mom about the night that you had and they both decided you needed to get out of the house. You mentally snorted to yourself. If they only knew. Halloween was on the horizon and they were planning something fun apparently to get you out of your mopey attitude. Honestly though you didn’t care about Halloween if Eddie wasn’t around to join the fun. Never in a million years did you think that you were going to have to go through any part of your life without him and here you were dragging through every day hoping and praying for his return. Downtown Hawkins tried to put on a cheery and brave face, but the busted up roads and destroyed buildings made you feel otherwise. You had drowned out your parents talking to watch the scenery go by. On the outskirts where some of the most severe damaged occurred you sat up abruptly.

“Stop the car,” you screamed. The brakes of the car screeched in protest and before your dad shifted into park you were out of the car. You caught a glimpse of a familiar figure standing on a dilapidated porch of a destroyed home.

“Eddie,” you called racing towards the young man calling his name. It was him definitely. You definitely saw that familiar denim jacket and head of long curly hair. Your parents called your name telling you to come back but you had to see Eddie. This was the moment you waited for. You stumbled over an abandoned bike catching yourself you looked back up, standing right at the porch where Eddie had stood. But now you didn’t see anyone. You spun around trying to spot him, it was him. You saw him there was no mistaking him.

“Eddie,” you screamed, “this isn’t funny! I know it’s you stop hiding! Eddie!” You spun around searching anxiously your heart shattering in your chest. Falling to the ground you wrapped your arms around yourself before releasing a deafening scream of despair. Your mom was there seconds later holding you tightly while you had your meltdown.

“He was right there,” you whimpered. “Eddie was just there I saw him. He’s playing a trick thinking it’s funny. Well it’s not!”

“Shh,” your mom said looking toward your dad in concern.

“Eddie’s not there sweetie,” your dad tried to say it tenderly but you shook your head harshly.

“He. Was. There.”

That was the very beginning of the nightmare that would become your life. Buying a new radio didn’t stop the suddenly turning on problem and whenever the lights flickered it only happened where you were. Your parents were beginning to think you were losing your mind, so they decided to enroll you in therapy to deal with your sudden bouts of insanity. Now that you talked more about Eddie the more you started to see him. The shadow that had been haunting you taking the form of your absent friend. You cried yourself to sleep most nights thinking about him. You walked past mirrors there was Eddie with a deranged smile. You would run back to see him gone. The dark chair by your closet Eddie sat in it a couple times but every time you did a double take he was never there but for a split second. You called for him, screamed his name.

“Come on,” your mom lifted you up. “You’ll see him again. Just give it time.”

Your father shook his head as they lead you back to the car that was still running. Your head was beginning to throb and the tears just kept coming. Why would Eddie do something like that? Maybe you were going crazy. That could only be the explanation. You wanted to see him so bad that you were beginning to hallucinate Eddie and crazy shadows trying to kill you.

Sometimes laughter was heard in reply. Bags started forming under your eyes. The radio would play at strange intervals waiting until everything was deathly quiet and it was the same song over and over. Disposable Heroes by Metallica. Surely some form of evil creature was haunting you but using Eddie’s face and favorite band to cause you to suffer more and more. You just wanted to find him, that’s all you ever wanted in life but now you just wanted the horror to go away, to stop torturing you on a daily basis. Now you were standing before your bathroom mirror not recognizing the gaunt pale face that looked back at you. Your features began to morph and swirl as the lights above began their flickering dance for the umpteenth time in the past two weeks.

“Please,” you moaned. “I can’t take this anymore.”

Eddie’s friendly face now stared back before melting. His skin ran in rivulets down his features before becoming a terrifying creature in itself. It was his face but more pale and his eyes were a reddish bloody brown like a pool of blood in the process of drying and his smile the one that once held warmth and joy held pointed fangs and only spoke of misery and death. He looked insane and malicious.

“Found me,” he hissed. His voice deeper and it rattled around in your skull. “You wanted to find me so bad. Are you happy with what you see (Y/N)?”

“You’re not Eddie,” you screeched slamming a hand against the glass.

The impostor chuckled malevolently, “I assure you I am.”

“Shut up!” You shattered the glass cutting up your hand. Bursting out of the bathroom the flickering lights followed you swiftly down the hall and into your bedroom. Slamming the door closed you hid your head under the pillows while your hand bleed profusely on the bed. You heard your door open while you willed the nightmare to end.

“Go away!!”

“It’s me,” your mom rushed over taking the pillows from you and cradling your wounded hand. Your spells were getting worse and she was growing more concerned. She carefully picked you up from your bed and lead you to the living room. Your father grabbed the car keys after seeing your sliced hand. Glass shards glimmered in the light and now that you calmed down a little and adrenaline wasn’t in your system you were beginning to feel the pain.

You cried and whimpered all the way to the hospital cradling your hand to your chest. You were drenched in blood and despite the haze you still caught glimpses of Eddie in the window. But instead of seeing the sweet metalhead you remembered it was the beastly image of this new Eddie. He mocked you, tortured you, took glee in the pain you were feeling. He told you the Eddie you loved was never going to come back, that he was dead and he was better off without you. You covered your ears trying to block out the harmful words. All that did was smear your blood over your head and face. The voice stayed in your mind digging into the very depths to strike where it hurt the most. You’d been losing sleep and now you were injuring yourself, you were kind of wondering how much more your parents were going to take before you were shipped off to the asylum. You couldn’t really blame them though. They didn’t see the flickering lights, the possessed radio that turned on whenever it wanted, or a Eddie that matched the Hawkins’ residents description to a T.

The doctor was really nice once you were in a room. They numbed your hand a little and cleaned all the glass punctured in your skin before sewing up the cuts. Now that your hand was taken care of and wrapped your parents were talking to the doctor about your spells. You ignored them and tried not to look at anything reflective. You weren’t positive how much more evil Eddie you were going to be able to take before you snapped for real. Despite ignoring the shadow trailing you, you could still hear the Eddie of your nightmares echoing through the room trying to get you to look. He called your name making your heart hammer in your chest. With a newly patched up hand and some pain medication to help with any discomfort you would experience with healing in tow you were on your way back home. You laid curled up in the backseat trying to block out the snarling timber of evil Eddie. You shivered despite the heater in the car blasting. Back home you ran inside refusing to look through windows or in the dark corners of every room. He was lurking you could sense it, his gaze brushing against your form sending tremors through you. You slammed the door to your room burrowing into the blankets.

“He’s not real. Eddie has to be dead,” you choked finally breaking. “This thing isn’t Eddie. My Eddie would never do something like this to me. Eddie!” You released all the emotions you had been holding back. The guilt and shame of not looking for him the moment he was accused of murder tearing you apart. You had felt that if you could find him you could finally make it right to him. You were the worst friend to him while he had been everything to you. You wailed in sorrow losing all hope as it all spiraled into remorse. This was the first time that evil Eddie had been silent in hours and you were finally able to fall asleep after crying yourself into oblivion.

You knew nothing only the dark abyss of sleep when a hand clamped on your shoulder. Your eyes shot open, sleep causing your vision to be bleary. It wasn’t your mother or your father. This shadow was familiar but also strange. Blinking several times rapidly everything began to clear up and the moon slipped through the curtains to outline the person who woke you. Long brown hair, denim vest, and leather jacket made your heart drop. This Eddie that had been your constant tormentor had finally got you and now your time had come to pay for mistreating your friend. You breathed deeply to scream when he latched a hand on your mouth. You squirmed and screamed behind his hand. He gripped harder making your jaw pop from the pressure. Tears welled up and you knew that it was the end.

“Shhhh,” Eddie hissed. His normal chocolate brown eyes had a reddish tint in the dark and they seemed to glow. “Shut up! You’ll get your parents down on me!”

You glared menacingly before kicking this impostor with all your might causing him to fall off the bed.

“Son of a… What’s your deal.”

“You’re not going to kill me that easily you monster,” you whispered shouted. Grabbing the nearest weapon available you kept your back pressed against the wall not daring to look away from him.

“It’s me,” Eddie whisper shouted back.

“It is not! You’ve been a constant nightmare in my life. The real Eddie is dead and I’ve been left with a evil ghost to torture me for being so pathetic and abandoning the only friend that mattered!”

This Eddie rolled his eyes and huffed. “Well good news I’m definitely dead but I’m also not in a way.”

You wielded the lamp pointing it at the thing in your room. “That definitely sounds like Eddie. But I don’t trust you.”

“You probably shouldn’t,” he nodded scratching the back of his head. “You should probably sit down (Y/N). You probably won’t believe me though.”

“Try me.”

You sat down still gripping the lamp tightly and impostor Eddie sat down too to make you feel more comfortable. He explained a different dimension that you could enter through a few places in Hawkins. How monster creatures have been the cause of all the bad that had and has happened to Hawkins. Then he talked about a great evil known as Vecna and his demobats.

“Vampire Eddie huh? I’m not buying it.”

“I think that’s why I’m alive or undead,” Eddie rubbed his forehead like he had a headache settling in. “I think I was infected and now I’m like a…a vampire.” He scooted closer and you held up the lamp. “It’s okay I just want to show you. Look at my crazy eyes. They’re red like a vamps and and look,” he raised his lips, “fangs! This is crazy man!”

“C’mon (Y/N),” his voice raised an octave like Eddie’s used to when upset.

“Tell me something only my Eddie would know,” you threatened menacingly with your lamp.

He hung his head, “Putting me on the spot huh?”

“It’s the only way,” you whispered.

“Fine,” he smirked showing one needle like fang. “Remember in 6th grade when we ditched class to go to the arcade and that boy you always crushed on… crap what was his name?” He snapped his fingers causing the rings he always wore to clink together.

“Daniel?”

“Yeah that one! Ditched too and you tried to act all cool and flirt with him and you wound up spilling the drink I bought you all over him and the game he’d been playing. He was going to get the high score too but you screwed him out of it!” Eddie laughed and you shushed him. “I never let you live that down and still won’t now.”

He thought that you would be excited and laugh at the memory but you just sat there. Your lamp landing between your outstretched legs as your body started to shake intensely and your bottom lip quivered. You grabbed a pillow that had fallen off your mattress and stuffed your face into the soft material. Your muffled wails filled his ears as your shoulders shook. Eddie was at your side in seconds rubbing soothing circles on your tense back. Feeling his touch so familiar despite being a little colder than you remembered. You launched yourself tackling him to the floor.

“It’s is you,” you soaked his shirt with your tears. “It really is you. You’re here Eddie.”

“Yeah sweetheart,” Eddie hugged you back ignoring your sweet scent for a moment, “it’s me.”

All he could do was hold you tightly until you calmed down some. It felt like a lifetime since he’d gotten to be this close to you. The separation had been difficult, more difficult than knowing that he had died. His body left in the Upside Down had reanimated and now he was here with you. He had a few different urges but those were easily ignored while he got to be here; finally, with you. You both laughed and talked for a little while just catching up but Eddie suddenly turned serious.

“Listen,” he cupped your face, “Vecna is the one torturing you with me. It’s not me and I had to fight really hard just to get here and see you. He’s pulling my strings and I don’t know if I’ll be able to ever see you again. But the way to keep him at bay is music. Your favorite song to be exact. You have to stay safe (Y/N). I can’t imagine losing you too after all that I’ve been through. So please if I don’t ever get to see you again,” he paused clearing his throat, “take care of yourself and know that I never cared for someone more than you.”

He sat back down red eyes searching yours in curiosity.

He kissed your forehead before starting to rise. You grabbed his arm pulling him back down from leaving.

“Wait Eddie.”

“I looked for you every night for a long time,” you started.

“Yeah. I know I heard you.”

“I was so desperate to find you, cause I kept it secret for so long. I was so afraid of making you leave me but I have to tell you now. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I let you leave with the possibility of never seeing you again. I like you more than a friend Eddie. I’ve loved you since we entered Junior High together, but I am such a coward I never told you.”

Eddie pulled you into him kissing you deeply. “I felt the same way for so long. Now I have to come back to you. Vecna or no Vecna. Whenever I come around the song I’ve been playing for you on the radio will play.”

“That was you?”

“Yeah,” he smiled showing the new sharp teeth. That was definitely something that was going to take you awhile to get used to. “The flickering lights was kinda me and Vecna but it was all him scaring you. I was trying to tell you I was here by playing Metallica for you. But I can see why that wouldn’t help.”

You snorted touching his face trying to get your fill before he left you, “I’ll make myself a mixtape to battle against him attacking me. I think I may have to add that particular song on there too. Cause it reminds me of you Eddie.”

“Hopefully I won’t be gone too long. I can still hear you in the Upside Down too so if you want to talk to me just talk okay.”

“Okay. Hey Eddie?”

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“Can we spend Halloween together like we used to?”

He nodded eagerly, “I’ll try my best!”

Before knowing Eddie was as alive as a vampire can be, Halloween was something you were not looking forward to, but now with the thought of seeing him again and spending Halloween together like old times you were now counting down the days. Your parents were happy to see you doing better though there was still moments where Vecna attacked. You had taken to keeping your cassette player going at all times, wearing it no matter the time. Now as you planned your costume and getting permission to stay out late in the safe neighborhoods the days went by quicker. Now the night of Hallows Eve was drawing nearer you laid sprawled out on your bed. Your costume draped over your desk chair and the only light on in your room was the lamp at your bedside you focused on the ceiling.

The music grew louder and the lamp flickered faster. You laughed more, he had always been a spazz when he was human too.

“Hey Eddie,” you whispered afraid your parents would overhear. Your answer was his song playing on the radio and a couple of flickers from the bulb in the lamp. You giggled the giddiness of knowing that he was so close taking over.

“I’m excited about Halloween now.”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to escape Vecna? Will it put you in extreme danger to leave him?”

The music slowed and the lamp flickered dully. Your heart sank at the thought of not getting to see him. If you knew Eddie though he was feeling guilty about not being able to give you a yes or no answer.

“That’s okay,” you cooed wiping at the tears that slipped by you. “If you can’t we’ll talk like this and I’ll describe my costume to you. My parents already think I’m a little insane, talking to a lamp won’t make any difference.”

The lamp glowed brighter constantly. Eddie was displeased that you were labeled crazy now. All because of your relationship with him. He couldn’t see you, but to hear you was more than he could ever ask for. After becoming Vecna’s he missed you the most. On the run he didn’t get to see you and then he was in the Upside Down and he tried to remember the last time he had seen you as his old self and found it hard to remember. You continued to chat with him as he spiraled into feelings that he had thought he had purged from himself a long time ago. You were everything he could ever want and now that just having you so out of reach because of the danger Vecna imposed was crushing him into pieces. Night drawn on and you were getting sleepy. Eddie flickered your lamp gently letting you know you needed to sleep before he completely shut the lamp off in the Upside Down.

“You’re right,” you relented laying back down as Metallica continued to play in a quieter volume. Eddie didn’t leave until you were breathing softly and smoothly.

Halloween drew closer and closer. You were preparing everything for any possibility, it made your parents happy that you were actually excited for something and that you seemed to have stopped thinking about Eddie so much. Well that’s what you let them see anyway. Despite the situation in Hawkins you couldn’t just blurt out that Eddie; who is now a vampire, is still alive under the control of an evil psychokinetic being who is plotting all of Hawkins demise, and that Eddie is basically undead, and he’s going to try to escape said evil being to come back to this side to be with you on Halloween. You snorted to yourself thinking about how ridiculous it did sound but stranger things could happen. Honestly nothing could surprise you anymore just seeing Eddie alive, maybe not well, but alive shocked your system enough that maybe you could take any shocking news to come.

After finishing up your costume you started to think on what you could do for Eddie. He couldn’t just go around walking around town, so dressing up would be a vital part of his appearance. But you didn’t want him just be anything, despite the situation you wanted Eddie to enjoy himself. It had been so long since the two of you got to hang out or do anything fun in so long. Eddie had worried so much for your reputation that he kind of held you at a distance though you told him several times that you didn’t care what the ‘fine upstanding’ citizens of Hawkins thought of you. All you cared about was Eddie. So it didn’t take you long to decide on Eddie’s costume and it would be really easy to get the stuff too. You laid everything out on your bed and patted yourself on the back at your job well done. Now all you had to do was survive the last few days until Halloween came.

Despite the overwhelming excitement, Halloween did come really fast. All day you had been so anxious your parents were happy and a little nervous by the way you were acting. You did dash their fears quickly before going upstairs to get ready. This year you had decided to do a genderswap of Indiana Jones since that had been one of you and Eddie’s most favorite movies you both watched together and for Eddie you chose Michael Myers. It was perfect because of the mask that would hide his face and the one piece overalls. You snickered to yourself as you turned in the mirror taking a look at your handy work. Not bad at all for a homemade costume. Eddie would probably have too much fun as his favorite slasher, but this was going to be both of your’s night to have fun. The sun was beginning to set painting everything outside your bedroom window in a gorgeous pumpkin orange, even the leaves seemed to glow underneath the waning rays.

“Eddie,” you whispered to the radio. Eddie’s song hummed back softly and the lamp darkened and brightened. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

The lamp glowed brighter, so bright you thought the bulb would blow but before it got too hot it went back to normal.

“Are you sure you can make it?” Your heart raced and tears were already pricking at the corners of your eyes. You promised not to be disappointed if he couldn’t but the thought of him not getting to come was already shattering your heart.

“You tell me,” Eddie’s voice whispered against your neck sending chills down your spine. Was it just a fantasy? Something your mind in a fog of desperation conjured up. Shivering you turned to see that familiar mop of hair and crooked grin. Before you could even decide what you wanted to do first your body acted launching yourself at him. Despite the fear that you would knock him down, like you did one time at school a few years ago, Eddie stood firm catching you and holding you tightly against his chest.

“I’ve missed you too (Y/N),” he cooed before stroking your hair with gentle caresses.

“You came,” you cried despite not wanting to.

“Of course! Now let’s get this Halloween night started!”

“Shh,” you laughed, “my parents are still downstairs! Plus you can’t go out looking like Eddie the Banished, soooo I took the liberty and you can go as Michael Myers tonight.”

“Right,” Eddie grinned sheepishly, “I kinda forgot that the whole town is out looking for me. All my problems disappeared when I saw you.”

You blushed shoving him towards the overalls and mask. “Get ready doofus.”

“A little privacy please,” he teased despite just having to put everything on over his clothes. But you turned around anyway. Eddie finished up before embracing you from behind, his arms snaking around your waist despite the belt, homemade whip, and pouch at your side.

“Indiana Jones would have been a lot more interesting if you played the lead.”

“Shut up Eddie,” you snorted still blushing up a storm. “Harrison Ford is a gift to all womankind.”

“Sure sure. You gonna stand here and gush over Harrison Ford or are you going to show me a good night on the town?”

“Just you wait Munson you’ll be begging to go back to the Upside Down before this night is over,” you grinned mischievously.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Life couldn’t be better now as you walked hand in hand with Eddie down the streets of several Hawkins neighborhoods. So far nobody had questioned the person beside you nor did a lot of people stop and talk to you. After the majority of people found out your friendship with Eddie you were another one of the outcasts. Bullying became the norm at school and everything got worse after Chrissy’s death. You refused to let Eddie know about it, it would just make him feel unnecessary guilt and this was the time he needed to enjoy himself. Too much had happened and he had Vecna to be concerned about, it didn’t matter what people said about you. But now you were afraid that Eddie was going to find out what you had hid from him as soon as you saw the group who always gave you grief heading straight towards you both.

“Well well if it ain’t Eddie the Freak’s side chick.”

“What’s wrong (Y/N) you finally come to your senses and let The Freak stop controlling your mind with his demonic powers?”

Eddie stiffened at the sound of his name and the way you were being spoke to.

“Let’s not do this tonight,” you glared unwilling to back down.

“Eddie was never a Devil worshiper and you know it,” you argued back. “If you had half a brain you wouldn’t believe the nonsense people spout about others. You never knew Eddie and you never took the time to get to know who he was.”

They laughed at you surrounding you and Eddie. Eddie squeezed your hand but the frustration he felt inside of not being able to protect you was tearing him up from the inside out.

“Sounds like she’s in love with The Freak,” he got into your face before ripping your hand from Eddie’s grip. Eddie let him afraid his new strength would hurt you or cause more problems than help.

“He’s my best friend,” you whimpered as your emotions overwhelmed you, “of course I love him.”

They laughed mockingly while their leader turned your hand around and deposited an apple into your open palm. He shoved your fingers harshly around the fruit and you fought a whimper at the pain slicing through your body. Blood began to drip between your fingers and dripping onto the ground.

“Happy Halloween Freak,” they snarled and dispersed leaving you and Eddie alone.

You trembled violently and dropped the apple with a painful gasp. Razor blades stuck through the skin on the apple had sliced your hand open horribly in several spots. Eddie was on the verge of panicking and throwing the apple back at the bully’s head but his need to take care of you drowned out the violent need before a new need started to emerge. Your blood smelled delicious. It overloaded Eddie’s senses threatening his control. This new desire had been hard to tame when he saw you again for the first time and now that your blood was flowing freely it was a beast that refused to be tamed. Eddie had you pinned down on the ground and mask off before you both realized what was happening. His eyes glowed a bright red as deep and bright as the blood that oozed from your wounds. Elongated fangs protruded from his mouth threatening to take from you his very desire.

“Eddie,” you hiccuped.

Too far away but still fighting Eddie ignored your quiet pleas as you remained pinned under his body. The irredeemable part of him wouldn’t be satiated until he got a taste. That’s when he picked your hand back up, blood now trailing down your pale arm. Licking his lips he trailed his tongue up your arm scooping up the blood and swallowed. Up and up he lapped causing a fire to light in your gut and fear to shake you when he stopped at the pulse in your wrist, the beating of your blood underneath your soft skin intoxicating him before he closed his mouth upon the cuts. Slurping and licking, you hid your eyes embarrassment and fear taking over as Eddie drank from your open wounds. Becoming dizzy you tried to get him to stop again.

“Eddie please.”

“No,” you sobbed finally breaking down. You were sick of trying to stay strong. Eddie was always the one who would accept you for who you wanted to be. Nobody else could understand you like he could. “I never wanted to be one of those that couldn’t be around you. Eddie you’re my friend.”

This time Eddie bolted back licking at his blood stained lips. Whatever had gripped him in his thrall released leaving him battered and ashamed before you.

“You should have given me up,” he said. “I’m a monster now and I can’t be trusted. Now they call you a freak. I should have given up our friendship years ago.”

“Some friend I am drinking your blood,” he scoffed bitterly. His guilt made him unable to even look at you.

You held your hand trying to stop the rest of the bleeding. Looking at the cuts you noticed they healed just a little bit under Eddie’s frenzy. You steeled yourself deciding that what Eddie is now wouldn’t matter. You held out your hand, tears drying, and a fierceness coming over you.

“You can have my blood. I don’t care. If it’s what you want and that lets you stay my friend you can have as much as you want and whenever you want.”

“Don’t do that,” he shouted backing away. “Don’t offer me that I can’t control it!”

“Eddie!”

“I won’t kill you (Y/N) and if I get another taste I will kill you.”

“I trust you,” you stepped forward carefully not wanting to spook him further.

He chuckled a bitter look in his brownish-red eyes, “I don’t trust me.”

Silence seemed to squeeze the life out of the once cheerful atmosphere as Eddie ended the night early. His mood was one part of wanting to go back to your house, but the biggest reason was you still had yet to stop bleeding. He tried talking you into going to the hospital but you refused immediately. There was plenty of medical supplies under the bathroom sink back at your house and despite wanting to argue with you and get you some actual medical care Eddie didn’t want to fight. So begrudgingly he started leading you home. His mask was back in place to where nobody could see him and he was grateful that the plastic was blocking some of the smell of your blood as it continued to flow from your palm. Piercing his bottom lip with one of his fangs, that refused to retract due to his food source still bleeding out, Eddie focused on the sharp pain until it healed up.

Eddie sighed bringing you into a comforting embrace, “It wasn’t my intention to make things awkward between us. I’m different now.”

“Eddie,” you spoke softly afraid of causing another scene. He turned around causing you to flinch at the tenseness of his body. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention.”

“No kidding,” you giggled, interrupting him. Eddie chuckled back.

“And I have to be careful or I could wind up causing more harm than I ever intend to. So please keep your blood inside you when I’m around.”

“You mean you’ll come back,” you blinked back tears.

“Of course dummy,” he scoffed ruffling your hair. “I don’t want you to be shunned like I was…am. But something tells me that you are not going to let me go without a fight.”

“You got that right Munson,” you glared. “I don’t care what others think of me. They never truly knew who you are anyway. Vampire or not you’re my best friend Eddie and I am not giving up that friendship without a fight.”

“I had a feeling you’d be saying that. I won’t fight with you,” Eddie relented.

“You’re too important to me.”

“You’re important to me too Eddie.”

He grasped onto you tightly refusing to let go until the smell of your blood became too much. He needed to get you patched up and soon.

“C’mon we need to get you fixed up before I can’t fight off the need to take another drink.”

“Okay Eddie,” you nodded once again following him. While many things had changed and everything seemed dour, you couldn’t help but feel some semblance of hope that everything would turn out okay anyway. Mostly because you had Eddie once more. While life had been a nightmare without him now that you had him back, despite the fact that he now went through a transformation no person should have to go through, you couldn’t find any disappointment. Eddie made life better, worth living. It didn’t matter what people called him or you once they find out your relationship with him. Nothing mattered except for the young man before you with his messy curly hair, ripped bloodstained D&D shirt, boots, and chocolate brown eyes now with a red tint. He was everything and then some, you could face anything with him. Vecna had to disappear, then maybe once in the first time in his life Eddie could finally be free from everything.

Back home he carefully patched you back up before licking his hands clean of any traces of your delicious essence. He hummed at the taste before looking back to you sitting on the edge of your bed. Faster than you could blink Eddie hovered above you his eyes boring into yours. He smoothed your hair from your face before bending down to leave a warm kiss on your forehead.

“Happy Halloween (Y/N),” he mumbled blushing slightly from the unexpected burst of affection that possessed him.

You leaned into the kiss holding onto his tattered shirt, “Happy Halloween Eddie.”

Then in a blink Eddie was gone leaving you alone once more. You looked at your bandaged hand turning a light pink from the bandages doing their job. You almost gave into despair when the radio came on and the lamp flickered gently.

“Thank you Eddie,” you sniffed. Your answer was the radio volume increasing and a brighter glow of the lamp beside your bed. You weren’t ever really alone and now that you had Eddie back in some manner, life would really turn out to be okay.

#Eddie Munson X Reader #Eddie Munson / Reader #Eddie Munson #Vampire Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Eddie Munson Fanfic #Stranger Things Fanfic #Female Reader Insert #Not My Gif #My Writing

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itsstrawberrymochi · 3 years ago

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Hi, I love your content so I wanted to request something! Could you do headcanons with the hashira’s x gender neutral reader(- muchiro ofc) where they find out that the reader self-harms? If this makes you uncomfortable at all please delete it!

Kny pillars reacting to their s/o who self-harms

Awww thank you anonymous that means a lot to me hope you enjoy this also thx for reading my request rules when you said minus Muichiro ^^

Characters: all pillars expect Muichiro

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm and suicide

Note: if you or anyone you know is doing this activity please seek help with people you trust , it may seem that self harm is the best distraction but it’s really not, it’s only a temporary relief and you don’t deserve to always go through that pain ❤️

Giyuu

🌊- Now it took him a while to notice this

🌊- Don’t get him wrong, Giyuu loves you and all but he just assumed the injuries were from a demon after all that’s what you told him you had to no reason to lie right?

🌊- When he found out the truth he got extremely sad, he also got mad at himself for taking so long to notice

🌊- When he finds out he wouldn’t dare shout at you or make a scene out of it, instead he’ll calmly approach you and ask what’s the matter

🌊-If you don’t tell him right away he won’t pressure you to do so instead he’ll wait until you’re ready to talk

🌊- He’ll just sit next to you calmly in silence for hours and hours until you’re finally ready tell him

🌊- When you tell him the reason he would start to try and find a solution for the problem so you can feel better

🌊- He would also pull you in a soft hug and just let you cry on him while listening to you tell him what’s wrong

🌊- Giyuu would alway try his absolute best to make you feel better and he’s very serious about the cutting/harming and does everything in his power to try and make you stop

🌊- He’s extremely afraid that one day you’ll go beyond self-harming and he doesn’t want to lose you

Rengoku

🔥- A literal angel that was sent from heaven

🔥- Rengoku would immediately notice that you self-harm, he is extremely observant when it comes to you so he’d be quick to realize

🔥- Like Giyuu he wouldn’t pressure you to tell him what’s the matter but he’ll wait until you’re ready to say

🔥- Rengoku would make sure you know that it’s not you vs the problem but rather you and him vs the problem

🔥- He’ll make sure you know he’s there for you and whatever problem there is you don’t have to go through it alone

🔥-He also isn’t the type to give you words such as “ it’s ok this problem will pass” or “you’ll get over ”, but rather say “ Don’t worry my little flame we will find a solution to the problem no matter what”

🔥- If you’re feeling helpless or upset and feel like self-harming again he’ll drop everything he’s doing to talk to you and try and calm you down

🔥- Rengoku would allow you to talk to him whenever. He would never tell you to go away or say he’s too busy. He’d also let you talk to him for hours it doesn’t matter to him just as long as you feel better

🔥- There are often occasions where you would be laying on his lap and he’ll gently rub your back as you cry and rant to him

Shinobu

🦋- She’ll notice right away, she’s a medic so she can tell the difference between real injuries and self- inflicted ones

🦋- She would become heartbroken to know you were so sad you felt the only way to feel better was pain

🦋- She would make all the butterfly girls leave and go to another room so she can talk to you in private when she found out

🦋- Even though some scars are already healed she would kiss every single one of them

🦋- She does it because she wants to ‘kiss it better’

🦋- She would place bandages and medicine all over the new cuts so they can heal properly

🦋- She is very patient with you, she understands that you won’t stop your self-harm just like that so she’ll take her time talking to you and helping you get over it

🦋- She would alway check up on you and whenever she does she always has some tea or your favorite food ready to talk and listen to you

🦋- She always encourages you to tell her you’re true feelings and never makes you feel emotional or dramatic for it

🦋- If she knows she’s going on a really long mission and won’t see you for while she’ll ask Kanao or one of the butterfly girls to check up on you but if you don’t want them to know about it she would keep it private and she’ll just constantly send you letters instead

Mitsuri

💖- When she found out she talked to you as soon as she could

💖- She found out during a pillar meeting when your sleeve accidentally lifted up showing all the unnatural scars

💖- She had waited after the pillar meeting, when you two were in private to talk about it. She knew you clearly didn’t want anyone to know so she was sure no one was around

💖- When she asked you about it she couldn’t help but break down crying, Mitsuri would blame her self for your self-harming and feel like she did something wrong to you but you’ll explain to her that it wasn’t her fault but she’ll still cry because you were hurting all this time and she didn’t know.

💖- Her number one method of helping you heal is showing you lots and lots of love and care and showing you she is there for you

💖- So that basically means more sweets, more tea parties, hugs and kisses,more l love you, her complementing you all the time etc

💖- She had also bought you a bunny, so if she ever went on long missions you’ll always have “ someone” to talk to.

Sanemi

☁️- At first he would be kind of angry. Angry at himself for not noticing and angry at you for not telling him

☁️- Genya was the one who had told him , Genya being your worried younger brother in law couldn’t stand by and watch you do this to yourself

☁️- Sanemi’s first thought was to yell at you for doing it but then he thought you’d probably be afraid to talk to him about it if he did

☁️- He’ll burst in your room and yell “Y/N I KNOW YOU INTENTIONALLY HURT YOUR SELF”

☁️- You expecting him to yell about it prepared for more but when he reached you he just shoved your face into his chest and pulled you in for a soft hug

☁️- He’ll then say he was sorry you had to go through all this pain alone and sorry that he wasn’t there for you

☁️- He’ll allow you to cry on his shoulder for as long as you’d like

☁️- He wouldn’t care that you’re messing up his slayer uniform nor how long you’re crying for

☁️- While you’re crying he’ll reassure he is now and will forever be there for you and he’ll also reassure you and you can tell him anything

☁️- This wasn’t the only time he allowed you to cry on his shoulder,after the one time you cried he wouldn’t easily dismiss the matter but instead constantly bring it up to make sure you’re getting better

Obanai

🐍- He’s a very observation person especially when it comes to you so he’ll notice your self-harming rather quickly

🐍- He was very patient with you, so the first time he asked and you didn’t tell him he waited until you were ready, like Giyuu he didn’t force you to talk about it.

🐍- When you two did talk about it he never judged you or made you feel bad for doing it, he never called your self harming ‘ attention seeking’ or called you dramatic for doing it

🐍- instead he’ll empathize with you and try to understand why you’re doing it

🐍-Obanai is definitely not one to show physical affection, he rather shows he loves you through words of affirmation BUT If you ever need him to hold you or hug you he’d be more than glad to do it

🐍- He’ll alway hold on onto you and assure you he’ll try and help you solve the problem

🐍- You’ll also have Kaburamaru to be your support snake he’ll alway wraps hisself around you or rub his head on your check to try and make you feel better

🐍- Obanai always try his best to make you feel better and he will near you every second of the day he’s right next to you to because he wants to be a constant reminder that you’re not alone

Uzui

🔊- It was own of the wives that told him about it

🔊- Uzui would immediately blame himself he would think you were probably upset that he was giving one of his wives e attention than you

🔊- He’ll then immediately go to you and apologies for it but then you’ll explain to him that’s not the reason. He’ll then feel relieved but immediately worry knowing there’s something making his love sad

🔊- He is the type to not assume what would make you feel better but would ask you how he could help. He’d ask if you want to talk about it with him, if you wanna talk to someone else maybe one of the wives, if you wanna be left alone, if you want a support animal ( yes willing to get you a cat/dog/lizard etc to make you feel better 😌)

🔊- He would kindly ask for you to give him the weapons you use for self-harm, he refuses to do it by force because that’ll make matters worst, if you don’t give it to him the time he’ll constantly ask for always in a soft and calm voice

🔊- If you’re a slayer he’ll even go as far and take away your sword he’d only give it back if he’s sure someone else is going on a mission with you and they can watch you or if he’s going

🔊- He would also get all of his wives to separately talk to you and try to make you feel better

🔊- Uzui allows you to cry on his shoulder if you ever need it and he’ll gently pat your head or rub your back

Gyomei

🪨-He would cry as soon as he found out

🪨-Like Shinobu he would be extremely heartbroken and his heat would weep for you

🪨- He absolutely hates the fact that you hurt yourself and would always cry thinking about it or if he hears you did it again

🪨- If the reason you are cutting yourself is because you don’t feel like you are good enough he would remind you of all your good qualities and there are lot

🪨- He’ll also wrap his arms around you and cuddle you as you cry because he knows how much you love it

🪨- Gyomei, if you allow it likes to gently rub all your self-injury scars because he believes you deserve comfort for going through all that pain

🪨-He wound often call them battle scars he does it because he believes that you did in fact went through a battle with many problems and you won

🪨- He is very gentle and patient when it comes to your self-harming , when he speaks to you about it and gives you advice it’s always in a soft and calming voice and whenever you rant or cry about how you feel he’ll patiently wait there for hours and let you speak, he’ll only speak when he knows that you are done, he wouldn’t dare interrupt you

This was my first time writing Uzui and Gyomei hope I did good, also this was my longest ever request so I wouldn’t be surprised if it has grammar errors sorry for that 😭

#anime #kny x reader #kny headcanons #sanemi x reader #giyuu x reader #shinobu x reader #mitsuri x reader #uzui x reader #gyomei x reader #rengoku x reader #obanai x reader

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kingdaddydaichi · 3 years ago

Note

can i request consensual hate sex between bakugou and f!reader

Oooooh yassssss! This idea got better and better the more I thought about it, Nonny. Love it! I hope you enjoy this naughty little slice of grudge fuck pie. 💖

Riding The Fine Line 💥 Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader 💥 NSFW

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT or I'll have my Big Scary BoomBoom Man blow your little ass up!

Word Count: 2k

"Oi! Who picked this shitty restaurant anyway?", Bakugou sneered as he walked towards the table.

You rolled your eyes and mumbled, "Oh look, Gorilla Man is here".

"Watch it, shitty girl. M'not in the mood for your shit tonight".

You'd made plans earlier in the week to meet Kiri and Mina for dinner. You knew Bakugou had been invited too, but after having suffered through it so many times over the past year or so of having some friends in common, you somehow managed to tolerate his presence. It helped that the drink you'd been sipping on made him somewhat less intolerable than usual.

It was like nails down a chalkboard every time Bakugou reared his big dumb head. His only redeeming quality was that he was quite easy on the eyes. Shame that such a hot guy is also such a huge asshole.

He's always given everyone a hard time, but unlike most people, you just wave a dismissive hand at him. And it makes him crazy. He doesn’t understand why he doesn’t get under your skin like he so easily does others. Oh, he annoys the piss out of you to be sure, but he doesn't hurt your feelings per se.

"Y'know, for such a massive ego yours sure is delicate, you meat head".

"Oh yeah? Well, for such a massive ass yours s-"

"God, Bakugou, do you ever just shut up?", you snipped.

Kiri and Mina both jumped in, laughing nervously and smoothing things over to lower the tension. He growled at you. You flipped him a subtle bird before looking away and trying to ignore him.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

Kiri's birthday was approaching and several of his friends decided to throw him a surprise birthday party. You, Denki, Mina, and ugh, as luck would have it, Bakugou, were are all put in charge of decorating his house while some other friends took him out for dinner. Midway through, Mina whined while sorting through various sacks, "Oh no! We forgot the disposable rainbow shot glasses!" Mina had a way of putting a cute touch on everything she had her hands in. Denki offered to go with Mina to procure the missing miniature party cups, leaving you and Bakugou alone to hang streamers in Kiri's living room. Probably not the wisest of decisions, but consider the source. 👀

It didn't take long after they were gone for Bakugou to start in on you with his bullshit. Only this time no one was around to referee. You groaned. This was going to be a free for all. You'd already both cut eyes at each other a couple of times.

"You're not doing it right, dumbass!"

"That's a matter of opinion and you can shove yours up your ass, dumbass".

He flipped you off saying, "You can shove this up your ass!", then turned back to his task.

You were so done. Without thinking, you reared back and hurled the roll of streamers as hard as you could, nailing him right in the back of the head. Damn, it felt good.

He whipped around, a vein popping out of his forehead, clenching his teeth. You were quite proud of your aim until he made little explosions in his free hand and said, "You're really pushing your luck with me, woman! If we weren't in Kiri's house right now I'd blast you right through that fucking wall!"

"Pfft, whatever! You wouldn't do shit. You're all bark and no bite, you fucking douche canoe!"

"You ever stop to think that maybe if you weren't such a bitch guys might actually want to talk to you?"

That did it. He'd finally found one of your hot buttons and you couldn't take his shit anymore. You marched right up to him and got right up in his face, height difference be damned.

"You know what, fuck you, Bakugou! I'm not normally like this! You're the only person who…drives me to this madness!", you spat with tears in your eyes.

A second later, his hands were on either side of your face, crashing his lips down onto yours. You were so shocked you froze before pulling away from him, staring at him in astonishment. He just stood there, huffing, glaring back at you, waiting.

You stepped forward and pushed him, his back hitting the wall, hard. But before he could protest, your lips were on his again. He grabbed you by your arms and spun you around, pinning you against the wall. You slipped your tongue past your open mouth, his meeting yours halfway as he pushed his knee between your legs. He pressed his thigh against your sex, shoving his growing cock against your thigh in the process.

Taking the bottom of his shirt into two fistfuls, you eagerly pushed it up to his chest, exposing his washboard abs and god-like pecs. He quickly pulled it over his head and threw it to the floor while your shaky hands got busy with his belt and zipper, urgently, like you couldn't get to him soon enough. But his will took over when he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head so he could peel your shirt off. He dipped down to take a mouthful of your tit, cupping what he couldn't fit in his rough hand, swirling his tongue around your nipple, sucking, then releasing you from the inside of his mouth to flick the tip of his tongue over your pink nub. You grabbed two handfuls of his ash blond locks and arched your back off the wall as he gave your other breast the same treatment.

You impatiently tugged on his hair, hungry for the taste of his sweet lips again. Your tongues once again fought for dominance and you gasped when he picked you up in one swift movement. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to Kiri's bedroom, swinging the door shut behind him before slamming your back against it.

"Put me down", you said forcefully.

He stopped sucking on your neck long enough to rasp, "And why the fuck should I?"

"Because I want to get into your fucking pants, asshole".

For once you two agreed on something and with your feet back on the floor, you got back to work on his pants before reaching in and wrapping your hand around his hot dick. Shit, you could barely get your fingers all the way around it, it was so thick. You stroked him a couple of times before pulling him out, exposing his manhood in all of its mouth-watering glory.

He ran his hand down his sculpted stomach, spreading his fingers to either side of his girth. "Like what you see?" You realized you were staring at his dick and the pre that dripped from it.

"Wouldn't you like to know?", you sassed.

He growled and spun you around, pushing your front against the wall and swiftly closing in behind you. Wisps of your (color) hair fluttered around his hot breath as he breathed down your neck. "You keep on tryin' to hide it, but you want me just as much as I want you, princess, and I'm gonna make an honest girl outta ya".

His battle-hardened hands found their way down your back, around your waist and all the way to your belly before he slid them down, his fingers reaching below your waistband. You willed him to push his hands further down, pressing your backside against his erection. He used one deft hand to unbutton your pants and work your zipper down, granting himself better access. When he mercifully slipped his middle finger between your folds, you couldn't choke back the moan that emerged from the back of your throat.

"Damn", he growled behind your ear, "for someone who can't stand me, your pussy sure is wet for me".

"Shut up", you gritted through your teeth.

The feeling of the rough pad of his finger teasing your swollen clit nearly sent you over the edge. But it was short-lived and you whined when he pulled his hand away to shove your pants down around your ankles, accompanied by your damp panties. Your hands slid down the wall as he yanked your ass back towards him. You hung your head and watched the head of his cock as Bakugou fucked your thighs, back and forth over your slit, coating his fat cock with your slick, readying himself.

When he began pushing into you, your legs shook from the sheer pressure as he slowly filled you up. When he bottomed out, he held himself still, at least considerate enough to give you time to adjust to his size. He waited until you started grinding against him before grabbing your hips, and slowly withdrawing.

"Now let's see if I can fuck all that hate for me out of you". Before you could retort, he slammed his cock back into you, your pitiful cry mixed with his loud groan echoing off the walls of Kiri's bedroom. He set his pace, steady and hard, the cold buckle of his open belt pressing into your skin with every crash of his hips.

"Yeah, who knows? Maybe if you'd get your dick wet every once in a while you wouldn't act like one", you quipped, voice faltering as he pounded into you.

He slowed his pace to bend over you, pushing your hair out of the way before biting down on the nape of your neck.

"Oww!! What the fuck?!"

He stood up straight again, laughing and said, "All bark and no bite, hah? You just hadn't pushed me far enough yet!" The sweet and salty mixture of his sweat and your need could be heard with every loud slap of his skin against yours.

"Fuck! Bakugou-", you whined in spite of yourself.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and gave it a firm tug. "When're ya gonna stop callin' me by m'last name and call me Katsuki instead?"

"When you stop acting like a raging asshole towards me", you managed as he fucked the breath out of you.

"Brave words for someone in such a compromising position. Now - say - my - fucking - name!". Each word came with its very own plunge of his cock into your mess of a cunt.

Your legs started to give out. "Katsuki!" You hadn't meant to obey him, but he'd kept his word and made you honest.

"That's better". You could hear the smirk in his voice after hearing his first name fall from your quivering lips.

You turned to face him when he pulled out, kissing him hard, his fingers going into your hair. You inched backwards onto the bed, Katsuki crawling in towards you with a primal look in his crimson eyes before nestling his thighs between yours and sheathing himself deep inside you again. Your head rolled back as you arched your back off the bed. Gods, the feeling of him filling you up was quickly becoming your new favorite sensation.

He nuzzled his face against your neck as he rutted into you, pulling your thigh up to his hip bone, raking his teeth against your skin. His breathing had become more labored and he started thrusting faster, your pleasure mounting with the increased friction of his pubic bone against your clit until rays of bliss shot out from every pore of your skin at the speed of light.

"K-ka-tsuki, I'm c-cumming hahh oh goddd!" The pulsating grip that you had on him finally sent him to his end as well, growling your name and cursing between clenched teeth, burying himself deep inside you as he unloaded rope after thick rope of his white hot cum into your snug, soft warmth.

"Seems Shitty Hair’s gonna get more than one surprise tonight", Katsuki said, catching his breath.

You laughed so hard that Katsuki hissed at the feeling of your walls squeezing his sensitive cock so soon after his orgasm.

"You still hate me?", he asked, brushing his lips against yours, supporting his weight with his elbows.

"Hmm...that depends", you said thoughtfully, tracing the cut of his back muscles with your fingertips.

"On what?"

"On whether or not you'd still fuck me if I don't hate you".

He smirked. "I'd still hit it even if you love me", he whispered, showing his softer side as he kissed you, smiling.

#grudge f*ck #katsuki bakugou #i want him to hate me this much #ugh #that man #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsuki #bakugou #bakugo #katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x y/n #king explosion murder #lord explosion murder #dynamight

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s-brant · 3 years ago

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Angels Roll Their Eyes (2/2)

(gif: @toesure) (PART ONE)

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

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

Word Count: 24k

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

Hurricane Agatha.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you smiling about?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?" she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He isn't sure why she buys into it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

JJ misses her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Weird in what way?"

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

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

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

She sighs.

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

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

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

That part is the most fuzzy in her mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gotta catch me first!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They tried.

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

It was simple in the beginning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the fuck?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because what?" he asks.

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

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

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

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

There it is.

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

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

Her heart sinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

He doesn't miss a beat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then prove it."

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

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

"Okay."

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

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

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

"Do I make you nervous?" she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Internally, JJ is losing his shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"If you tell anyone, I swear I'll—"

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

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

"Promise?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's the one to break the silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I wasn't staring."

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

"Whatever you say."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you okay?" Y/N asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shakes his head.

"You didn't do anything."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He takes a deep breath and scoots closer to her, keeping his one hand in hers while the other arm drapes itself over her waist, and he can feel her relax into the touch.

"It's okay," he says.

It's easier for him to adjust to so much physical contact when he's the one initiating. He knows that's why she only reached out to hold his hand. If she had it her way, she would've already been cuddling with him as soon as they laid down, but he likes that she gives him the space to initiate it. In the ways it counts the most, she cares about him more than anyone else has.

The touch in itself is his way of accepting her apology. However, truth be told, he already forgave her for it before knowing his love was reciprocated could be a possibility.

Right when she's about to fall asleep, the screen door slamming open and shut with the wind on the back porch makes her whip her head around to look over her shoulder in the direction of the sound. It seems like every time he successfully distracts her from it, the storm finds new ways of reminding her of what's happening outside of the safety of the Chateau.

There's the sound of a barely audible, sharp inhale, then her whispering into the dark room as she looks at the closed door, "I can't believe I went out into that. What the fuck was I thinking?"

It's beginning to close in on her again; the sounds of the storm, the sense of being trapped no matter how safe they truly are, and the rising tidal wave of anxiety that picks up speed the more she tries to will it to stop. This is the part where she tries to relieve it in some way, usually by smoking weed to sleep or going to one of her parents so they can help her through it, but she can't help herself right now.

Debris was being picked and tossed around in the wind like it weighed nothing when she was out there, she could've been knocked into the marsh or struck by a piece of debris.

How could she be so stupid?

Not only could she have hurt herself, she could've hurt JJ knowing that he'd likely follow her out into the storm to bring her back inside, and the thought of him being hurt makes the tension in her chest heavier. Her breathing picks up speed, the anxiety starting to snowball out of control when—

"Hey, look at me," JJ says, reaching up to turn her head to face him, and she damn near crumbles in relief at feeling his hand cup her cheek. It doesn't make it all disappear, but it provides a momentary comfort that she doesn't take for granted. "You're safe here. You know damn well I'll do anything to protect you. I mean, shit, dude, if I have to go out there and tell that rain to fuck off, I will."

This draws out a laugh from her, chest stuttering with the happy sound through the tears glistening in her eyes, and he never wants to stop hearing it. His thumb swipes away the first teardrop that falls before it can slip over the apples of her cheeks. I'm Her quiet cries and shaky breaths continue for a while after the laughter disappears. For a second or two, he watches with his thumb still wiping her tears away and hopes that it'll be enough to comfort her, but it can't do it completely.

He pulls away from her to get up from the bed with an idea popping into his mind, but upon hearing her whine at the loss of contact with him, he pauses to say, "I'll be back quick, don't worry."

The remaining humorous side of her left wonders if he's actually gonna go tell the rain to fuck off, but he's just opening the bedroom door to trot out into the living room.

A candle burning on the coffee table illuminates the space for him, guiding him straight to the forgotten backpack she left slumped against the arm of the couch hours before their relationship was changed for the better. It takes him an instant to get there and back with the bag in hand, and he's digging through it for a second before climbing back into bed with her.

If anyone else rifled through her bag, sifted through her personal belongings, and dug her phone out of it, she'd probably be annoyed, but she never is with him. She's inherently protective of her things, but JJ can do whatever he wants and it has always been that way. It should've been the first warning of what was to come.

He pulls the sheet back over his body and scoots up close to her, trying to resist the urge to retreat at first when he maneuvers her to lay with her head on his shoulder. It should trigger the flight or fight response that often alarms in his head, but he's able to push it away.

She's so vulnerable right now, so gentle and in need of the warmth of another person that he isn't as intimidated. It's not that she couldn't hurt him if she wanted to right now, she could, but he knows her. He knows that the last thing she'd ever want to do is hurt him, so he has to remind himself of that and give himself the permission to enjoy the physical intimacy of her touch. The part of him that questions if he even deserves it can't reach him now, not when he's so focused on her.

"Thumb?" he asks with the phone held out expectantly.

The screen is less than two inches from her face, so she has to push it back slightly, but she flattens her thumb to the button without further hesitation.

When he unwraps the pair of headphones from around the palm of his hand and plugs them into the charging port, she realizes why he left in the first place.

When she was facing away from him, eyes shut and headphones in to distract herself with music earlier, he was stealing glances at her every so often. He tried to keep away from her for the most part. It was difficult though, especially knowing what she said about being jealous the night of the party and knowing how scared she was of the hurricane. He couldn't help but keep an eye on her, for both his own selfish needs and his worry for her.

He keeps an arm tucked around her, pressing her body into his while he pops one of the headphones into her ear and the other into his. The thing is, her eyes aren't trained on the screen like his are once he starts looking through her vast collection of not-so-legally acquired music for a song that suits both of their tastes, they're trained on him.

Their taste in music tends to diverge in certain ways and overlap in others, so there's always a fifty/fifty shot of him liking what she plays when she's the one picking the music. That is why he smiles to himself and halts the endless scrolling in its tracks to hover his thumb over one song.

He obviously heard it before she played it that one time, but it's different for him now. They were riding together in the backseat of the Twinkie on the way to the beach with John B, Kie, and Pope when they let her take her turn to play a song.

That's how it is with them, the driver goes first, then it goes to the front seat passenger, and so on and so on until they make their way back to the beginning of the rotation. It was her turn when she picked this song, and it could've been the song, or the sunset shining through the window, but he felt as though his heart exploded when he looked at her in the middle of it.

He remembers feeling confused, confused as to why he couldn't catch his breath and why he suddenly adored the song he only heard casually a couple of times.

It was her. It was everything about her. The soft hum of her voice murmuring the lyrics, too shy to actually sing them in the presence of anyone else, was too delicate for the others to appreciate over the sounds of the van. He heard it though. He clung to it and admired her, so unashamed in his staring that he didn't realize he was doing it. It wasn't until she noticed that he stopped.

"Do I still have ice cream on my face or something?"

Her fingers came up to wipe at the corner over her mouth, and the action sent him turning his attention away quicker than he knew he could move, pulling the lighter out of his pocket to fiddle with as he mumbled, "Yeah, but you got it off now."

The cheery melody of Just Like Heaven bursts out of each headphone into their ears.

How did he know? How is he constantly reading her mind without realizing it?

This was her first song on the couch that she couldn't stand to sit through without thinking, naturally, of him when confronted with the topic of love. Somehow, it's like he knew that, and instead of feeling exposed and scared he'll know her feelings like before, she feels loved.

She is never skipping this song again.

"Go to sleep," he murmurs, clicking the screen off and resting it on his stomach.

It takes him a short thirty seconds to fall into an easy, calm pattern of breathing that tells her he isn't asleep, but soon will be. But she's fighting her sleepiness to continue looking at him. His eyes are fluttered shut, hair messy on the pillow, and she'd want to reach up to kiss him if he weren't trying to fall asleep.

Instead, she settles for matching her quickened breaths to the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand and shuts her eyes along with him.

By the time the song reaches its end, she thinks he's asleep, but she still whispers, "Thank you," and feels his arm squeeze around her body in response.

The next songs fade into white noise at this point for her, drowning out the storm to the point where she begins to forget it's happening out there.

Maybe they can be each other's safe place when things get rough. After all, he handled this wonderfully considering his lack of experience with her anxiety and she never pushes him on his plethora of unsorted issues, even when she wants so badly to be the one to initiate the touch.

She never makes him think she pities him, or wants to "fix" him like so many partners with savior complexes who will never try to understand how it feels often do in these situations. With each other, maybe it doesn't have to be so complicated anymore, even when they have those inevitable arguments here or there.

The last thing he does before allowing himself to be dragged under is brush his lips on her forehead in a tender kiss. And when he eventually wakes to the rising sun shining through the windows in the aftermath of the violent hurricane, she's still there.

Tag List: @jjjmaybank, @its-simply-fanfiction, @naughtydild0swaggins.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx s2 #obx #fanfiction

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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years ago

Text

The art of taking care of the woman you love - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : You’ve always had really bad period pains. You learned to live with it, and to take care of yourself during those times...Up until a certain Bruce Wayne came into your life, and made it his mission to be there for you.

For @meghan-maria, who gotta be the sweetest out there :), and for anyone who ever had really bad period pains. I hope you will like it :

TW : periods. It’s obvious given the theme, but I guess we never know and better safe than sorry.

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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The First time it happened

It’s the fact you cancelled your planned date with him without an explanation that makes him worry.

“Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Will see you tomorrow !”

You never did that before, and you two were so busy neither of you would miss a date really. Not unless something bad or important happened. But then in that case, you would’ve told him, no ?

It made him so anxious. And he was starting to clearly overthink things.

Were you maybe...having second thoughts ?

You and Bruce made your relationship official not long ago, was the media’s pressure becoming too much ? You told him you’d be fine, but after a few months experiencing the plague that were paparazzi and invasive questions, did you change your mind ?

Or maybe it was because of the whole Batman thing ? You discovered that a while ago, even before making your relationship official so...why would you change your mind about it now ?

Maybe he came home with too many cuts and bruises. Maybe you were freaking out ? He would understand if you did.

Or...There was a last option that came to his mind : he upset you somehow.

It was entirely possible, sometimes he could get stuck in his own mind, and be a jerk without even truly realizing it. He knew that fact very well about himself. It was often the reason of how he ruined multiple relationships, friends or more.

The way he sometimes just got too focused on his vigilante work. Too obsessed. And could be stuck in a “dark mode” like you’d say...

But, he also knew that you never took any of his shit. You would’ve told him if something was really the matter, right ?

Right ?!

Should he ask Alfred if he noticed anything ? His butler, and surrogate father, always saw things that escaped him. Especially when it came to feelings.

This was a less known trait about Bruce, but ever since he was a child, he’s always been anxious. He was usually really good at hiding it, and his “Brucie Wayne” persona made everyone think it wasn’t possible for him to be anything else but confident and cocky but...it wasn’t true.

Especially when it came to those he cared about. Especially when it came to you.

You loved him despite his flaws, accepted him fully, without any conditions. It was the first time it ever happened, that he LET it happen...So, with this simple plan cancellation that was quite unlike you, he freaked out a bit.

In the middle of the day, he finally decided to call you. One. Two. Three tones before you picked up, and oh. Oh he felt so relieved to hear your little “hello ?”

At the same time, his worry peaked. Was it just him, or did you sound really weak ?

“Hey honey, just wanted to check if you were alright ? Your text was a little short, and I know you don’t owe me any explanations of course, but I just wanted to check on you. You know. I-um...”

Clumsy Brooshy.

It made you smile, the way he could be a little flustered and lose his words, when with you. And it made you smile even wider that he chose to call you to make sure everything was ok.

Sweet Broosh.

If you really didn’t want to talk to him, you wouldn’t have answered. And he wasn’t the kind of man to “insist”. He would’ve left a voice message, and leave you alone until you felt like calling him back. Bruce was most definitely not invasive...but at the same time, you’d never leave him worrying for no reasons, knowing how anxious he could be.

The truth was, your text was short because...You didn’t know how to tell him the reasons you needed to cancel your date. You didn’t want to embarrass him. Men didn’t really like to talk about what you currently were suffering from.

You also were a little embarrassed yourself, because the entire society surrounding you made you feel wrong for having periods.

Periods.

One week a month. Every single months. That was a lot.

Especially for you because...you always had complicated and difficult periods. Painful. Making you feel like you couldn’t move. The pain making it impossible for you to even get out of bed for long.

You and Bruce had been dating for a while but...weren’t periods sort of a taboo subject ? You didn’t really know how to tell him. Especially since most men really seemed uncomfortable with the all thing.

Of course, you should’ve know Bruce wasn’t “most men”.

“Baby, are you there ?”

“Um yes yes, sorry I was lost in thoughts.”

“Are you ok ? You don’t sound right.”

The most observant man in the World was obviously going to realize your voice sounded weaker than usually. The truth was, you were trying really hard to keep it steady as pain filled your being.

“Yes yes, I’m ok, just feeling a bit...under the weather ?”

“Is there anything I can do ? Is it a cold or something ? If so, I can bring you buy some chicken noodle soup, and pick up any meds you might need.”

You almost cried at his words.

Super busy bee Bruce Wayne was telling you he’d go out of his way to bring you what you needed...It made you crack a little.

He was too damn nice. And your hormones were in shambles. It was very easy right now for you to cry.

This. How willing he was to help you, how he immediately asked if he could...Was what made you say the truth without thinking twice :

“I’m-I’m on my periods. They’re usually- They’re usually bad.”

“Oh.”

His response scared you a little bit. Were you right, was this maybe too much, too soon ? You were about to add something when he said :

“I’ll be there in about an hour, if it’s ok with you ? If you prefer to be alone I can send-”

“No ! No, I would love for you to come. I just-I wasn’t sure-I-”

“It’s ok. I understand. See you in a bit, love you.”

“Love you, too.”

On that note, Bruce hung up and leaves you with a wild beating heart.

************

Exactly an hour later, your doorbell rings.

With difficulties, you stand up, and go open the door. Surely enough, it’s your boyfriend.

“Hi.”

He has a bag in his hand, and you melt a little at the soft look and smile he gives you (even if there’s clear concerns behind it). You let him in, and go sit on the couch, even if just sitting up is already too much.

“Do you want to lie down ?”

“No. No I’m fine. You came all the way here, I can’t just stay in bed haha.”

“Of course you can.”

There’s a small silence for a little bit. Not awkward, you’re just not quite sure what to do. Should you go back to bed ? You really want to. And clearly, he understands. He always does.

“Ok.”

You stand, and wince because moving really makes everything worst. He approaches you, worried, but doesn’t dare to touch you and just follows you into your room. You get back in your comfy bed, under your comfy comforter.

Another silence. Until he breaks it, taking something out of the bag he was carrying and saying :

“So. I wasn’t sure you had a hot water bottle, I don’t ever recall seeing one in your apartment. So I bought one on the way just in case. Sorry if you don’t like the color, I can pick another one up later. It’s just, the woman on YouTube said that heat pads and hot water bottles were great.”

“The...woman on YouTube ?”

“Yes, I watched a video on menstruations on the way here.”

For a few seconds, you just stare at him, stunned. Never EVER in your entire life did you think you would hear THE Bruce Wayne say those words one day.

“A video on menstruations ?”

“Well, yes. Obviously, I don’t have periods. So I have no idea what it feels like. So I watched a video, to understand the process. And also so that you wouldn’t have to explain anything to me. You know what periods are, you don’t have to educate me on it. It’s not your job. And I definitely don’t want to sound patronizing about it. So I watched a video, and read a few articles. I won’t say I know how it feels, but I understand it more. Tell me if I ever step my bounds at any moment..”

You can’t help but smile, even as your lower belly is on fire. Ah. Of course he would search things about it. Bruce was the kind of man to be thorough in his researches before tackling a problem. As Batman, he always tried to know everything there is to know about a situation before finding any solutions. But he was like that in real life too.

And it particularly touched you that he did it so you wouldn’t have to explain...You had an ex, once, who sat down with you to talk about menstruations and it sort of drove you crazy. He thought it was nice, but your hormones were wreaking HAVOC and he was trying to explain to you how periods work and what it felt like ??? Give you advice about it and that it would be fine if you did what he said ?? Excuse me ??? As if you didn’t try everything already to feel less pain. And as if, as a woman, you didn’t know what it felt like or what it was exactly...

And there came Bruce. Reading up on it. And knowing he would never quite know how it feels. But educating himself so he won’t say something that could trigger you in any way.

Sweet sweet man...If only people knew.

He caressed your cheek softly, before whispering :

“Then I-I watched something on endometriosis, because I read in a previous article it felt horrible. And you said your periods were bad, when we were on the phone. It sounds awful. Do you-...Have endometriosis ?”

You shake your head weakly. Endometriosis was one of the reason why your periods were so painful and dreaded. And the worst ? It was a sickness many people said didn’t even exist.

A woman being in pain during her periods ? Drama queen. Right ? It didn’t hurt that baaaaad. See, some women didn’t feel anything, just bled for a bit and moved on with their months. So obviously every women felt the same. Some were just being too sensitive...

Endometriosis was still, even to this day, a rather unknown illness and one that was rarely taken seriously. Some people just couldn’t even fathom you being in pain because of your periods, so much so that you couldn’t move.

That you occasionally fainted, that you couldn’t eat much because it made you vomit, that you had awful migraines, stomach ache and back pain. That you couldn’t focus or sleep because of it. No.

No those were just “made up symptoms” because you were “weak”...What awful things to say, right ? It was even worst to hear. Someone telling you this, as you felt like you were dying because of the pain, made you feel GUILTY to have painful periods.

But it wasn’t your fault ? IT WASN’T YOUR FAULT ?! Nor were the moodswings, the cravings, the fatigue...

You hated going to the doctors when you were younger, because you knew he wouldn’t believe you when you said your periods hurt...

Anyway. Even without endometriosis, women who had bad periods pain were rarely taken seriously. Unless they met another woman who felt the same. Then they’d feel like they weren’t alone, or crazy. Like there were others who felt bad too.

Every woman was different. And you unfortunately never met someone else with the same problems than you...

You felt very alone, for so long, and it was enhanced by your hormones going crazy and the pain being unbearable at times.

And then, in come Bruce.

Your Broosh.

“Ok. Well. I brought you some of your favorite food. And um, I picked up some snacks if you want to do a movie marathon ? I brought all The Lord of the Rings extended editions. I got heat pads and a hot water bottle like I said. We can also just cuddle and relax if you prefer, I read that physical comfort was good ? Or, I can leave everything here, settle you in properly, and leave you alone. Just, tell me what you need my love ?”

What did...you need ?

Nobody ever asked you that. Nobody. Not even your parents.

What did you need ?

The answer came quickly.

Him. You need him. His warmth. His large and soothing hands. His comforting presence. His calming voice.

You knew you were in love with him since a while now. You exchanged “I love yous” already. But never did you feel as much love for him as right now, seeing him sitting in front of you, asking you what you needed...

A simple action. Simple words. And yet, it meant everything.

“What do you need, honey ?”

The concern in his eyes, and how he was very obviously ready to do whatever you wanted him to.

It already made you feel better. The physical pain didn’t go down, that’s not how it worked unfortunately. But the emotional anguish ? Gone.

Because he was there.

Without even realizing it, you started crying. This was too much for your heart, too overwhelming. It meant the World, in that moment.

It meant the world, to you and your overworked hormones. And so you cried. You cried hard.

Without thinking twice, Bruce moved towards you. Taking his coat off and leaving it on the floor (Alfred would scold him about this for sure), he climbs in your bed and engulfs you in his arms. And it’s so warm and comforting, comfortable, too.

“Just tell me what you need..”

He whispered to you, in his deep calming voice, his fingers running soothingly through your hair.

“Could you just...keep holding me ?”

He smiles softly, and says :

“Of course.”

He never, and never would, shy away from comforting you in any way. If you needed to have a good cry in his arms, so be it. And if you just needed him to be there, he would be there.

You cuddled for a bit, the soothing circles he rubbed on your back doing wonders to make you feel relax. He brought some essential oils, that he massaged on your belly before filling the hot water bottle and laying it there...It relieved the pain a little bit, as you started a marathon of your favorite movies.

He took great care of you all day long, answering your every need even as you didn’t dare to ask...as if he could read your mind. You almost suspected he really could. You never felt so in phase with anyone before like you did with him.

You had been together for less than a year. Although your anniversary was right around the corner. But him coming over as soon as he knew you weren’t feeling well. Him educating himself on what was it that hurt you...

If you weren’t sure yet that he was the one...You knew now.

It sucks to be a woman, sometimes

Bruce never knew periods could be that bad. Well, of course, he was a guy. And “periods” was never really a subject he talked about with anyone. He never really paid attention to it, like many men really.

Until he saw you while on it.

He knew you. He knew you were a tough lady. Once, you broke your leg while on a date with him. A silly accident really. Involving an ice rink, and an overzealous you chasing a hockey puck...Long story short, you ended up with a bad break. And you barely said a word about it.

Bruce had his bones broken many times, he knew the pain of it. It was one of the pain he hated the most, along with burns. One he dreaded the most. And you took it like a champ.

The break was bad enough you even needed surgery, yet you kept smiling at him (he might’ve feel bad that he let his over-competitive mind take over, “pushing” you to really want that puck...but of course, it was not his fault, after all, you too were very competitive, it was a pure accident). Saying you were fine, and that it’d be ok.

He always hated seeing you hurt, it hurt him too. Inside. And scared the Hell out of him, to even think about you being harmed. So that day, he was rather frantic. You staying calm helped him, which made him feel a little guilty that even as you were the hurt one, you reassured him.

But then you reminded him the roles were often reversed when he came back hurt from a rough vigilante night...You always had the right words to ease his mind.

Anyway. That one time, after badly breaking your leg, you stayed rather calm and collected. But when you had your periods ?

He never knew it could hurt so much. You couldn’t hide your pain, or pretend everything was alright.

It was clearly a really bad moment to go through.

He knew about the terrible migraines, being unable to sleep which made everything worst, feeling like your lower belly was being twisted from the inside, being sore all over for no reasons, not being able to move...

Seeing you, was enough for him to know that periods sucked.

“Being a woman is the worst, sometimes!”

You’d often say during those moments, and he’d just soothe you, wishing he was in your place...

He hated when you were hurting. It hurt him too. Inside.

And never. NEVER would he doubt that you were in real pain. Because unlike the doctors who kept telling you it was in your head, he knew you. He saw you get injured before. He knew you were tough. So for you to not be able to pretend everything was fine...

You were hurting. Badly. And it was awful. But he believed you. He believed you and that’s all that mattered to you.

Space

He also knew how to give you space when you needed it, though.

He would be here if you needed him, bring you any food you craved, giving you relaxing massages, rubbing essential oils on your belly, filling up your hot water bottle etc etc.

To be honest, his reaction to you being on your period is what made you sure he would be a great father one day...And you were right.

Not a perfect father.

But oh. Oh he cared. And wanted so much to do good...

And he knew.

He knew exactly when he had to be there, and when he had to give you space.

His hoodie

Bruce couldn’t always be with you when you had your periods, of course.

He often took time off to be. But it was unrealistic to think he could be 24/7 with you the entire week.

And sometimes, when he was away, you really suddenly craved his presence...So you came up with a trick.

You stole his clothes.

Particularly, hoodies he often wore when hanging out casually in the Manor.

First of, they were very comfortable. And second, and most importantly : they smelled like him.

They were warm, had his scent, and you could fall asleep feeling like he was almost there.

Bruce couldn’t count the number of hoodies he lost to you....Then again, after a while, you’d ruthlessly abandon one because it stopped smelling like him, and would steal another one.

Of course, he never minded. In fact, beyond the fact hoodies were nice and comfortable, he started to wear them a lot while in the house or during times he didn’t need to wear a suit (in every sense of the term), specifically because he knew you’d steal them when you felt lonely.

It was cute. And it made his heart beat faster just thinking about it.

Nobody.

Nobody ever needed him that much before. Nobody ever loved him so much that sometimes him not being around was distressing.

Of course, he felt the same. And the knowledge that you too, would sometimes feel lovesick when you were separated for too long...Filled his heart to the brim with the best feelings.

For so long, he thought someone being dependable of him, and him being dependable of someone was bad...Oh, how he was wrong.

It’s not because you open your heart to someone that you’ll get hurt, or that they’ll use it against you. You just have to find the right person...

So. Yes. He will always cancel plans just to be with you.

To bring you hot water bottles whenever you need. To cook your favorite food and snacks. To be there during all your mood swings, and endure even if you’re not the nicest to him (it’s not your fault). To watch your favorite movies. To let you sleep in and run your errands...

Periods sucked.

He didn’t need to be a woman to know that.

So he was there. Right there. For you. Taking care of you. And he would forever be there for that.

But when he wasn’t ?

Then he’d strategically leave one of his hoodie near the bed, so you could steal it, and comfort yourself with his smell...

Mood Swings

“Brooooooooooosssssh...”

You’re crying. You’re crying !

And it makes Bruce panic. You cry very rarely, so when you do it means something really bad must’ve happened or..or...

Bruce makes a quick calculation in his head and...Yup.

It’s that time of the month again.

Already ? Poor you..

This means that tomorrow, you’ll be a mess as everything will hurt too much, and today, the eve right before, you’re overly emotional.

Hence you clinging to him right now, sobbing while repeating “I love you so much Bruce, I love you soooo much”.

Hormones could really turn your head around. Right at the start of your period, before the pain, you had a rush of many emotions.

You could either get very irritated for no reason (like “WHY IS THIS FLOOR ON THE FLOOR ?!”) or cry at everything. Right now, you were crying because you realized you loved your Broosh to death and you just had to tell him and you didn’t want him to go that night and...ah...

“It’s alright, it’s alright my love. You’re ok. We’re ok.”

He lets you cry in his arms, of course. And already made the decision to not go out tonight, and stay with you. Kate could take over. He couldn’t leave knowing your emotions were doing quite a trick on you...

************

Your mood swings during your periods were particularly bad.

You guessed it went in pairs with all the pain. Of course, not just one thing had to be exacerbated. Oh no. EVERYTHING bad about periods had to be turned to the max for you. Otherwise, were was the fun, right ? Sarcasm.

You’d get irritated for no reasons. Then feel bad and cry for hours. To then feel ridiculously giddy once again for seemingly no reason...and then suddenly a burst of anxiety would attack you.

It was a circus in your mind, and in your body.

You couldn’t focus on anything. You couldn’t sleep properly. You felt awful all the time. Everything hurt. God...

And there he was. Bruce. Taking the brunt of your bad moods without saying a word. He knew it wasn’t your fault. That you didn’t mean it. That your hormones dictated your behavior against your own will.

He knew.

And he was there.

He was there.

“Every little moment is important, Son” - Thomas Wayne, to Bruce during the Flashpoint events.

“Bruce ? What are you doing here ? Thought you had important meetings ?”

“They weren’t that important.”

“Really ? Lucious said-”

“Lucious is overdramatic. Anyway, Tim is taking care of it.”

“...You’re letting our sixteen years old son taking care of the future of your company ?”

“To be honest, he’s probably more competent about it than me.”

“...That’s actually pretty accurate. But, why did you cancel things ?”

“Because it’s this unpleasant time of the month, right ?”

“Oh. You don’t have to-”

“I absolutely do.”

Disappearing for a few seconds, your husbands comes back, wearing one of his favorite silk pajamas (and by “his” favorite, he really means : he knows you love them and think they look good on him, but won’t ever admit it because they’re “damn pajamas, it’s silly”...but he likes to please you). He then climbs in bed with you, and settles comfortable against you.

“So, what’s the program today ?”

This wasn’t unusual, for him to do this when you were on your periods.

In fact, it was almost a ritual. Delegating his works to others, so he could take care of you.

Ever since that first time, all those years ago, things didn’t change much. He would ask you what you need, you’d tell him, and he would do it happily.

He knew it was a tough moment for you, physically, hormonally, mentally...Having your periods sucked. So he was there. Right there.

The words his father...Well, not really his father. The “Thomas Wayne” of another dimension. What his father would’ve become if he died that fateful night, instead of his parents. Regardless, to him, it was his father.

The father that never saw him grow up and became the man he was now...Yet who had important words for him.

“Take advantage of every little moments, you never know when it’ll end.”

Those words stuck with him. Because it was true. It only took a few seconds in an alleyway for his whole world to turn upside down...Why would it take any less for it to completely change now too ?

What if something happened to you ? And he didn’t spend enough time by your side ? Or to his kids ?

There was a time, being Batman was everything to Bruce. Because he was angry, lost, and devastated.

But over the years...Over the years this role stayed important. But he expended his vision. He included others in it.

So. Yes. He would treasure those small moments with you. And if it meant taking a day and night off to take care of you during a rough time, then he’d do it. If it meant missing work (both his works) because one of his children was sick, so be it.

He was Batman. But he was also a husband. A father.

And now...Now he knew his priorities.

He’d never stop being Batman. Never.

But he knew now. He knew there was more to life than this dark world he thought he’d get stuck in till the end of his life.

“I was about to watch a movie.”

“A movie it is. If you want me here, of course.”

“Do you even have to ask ?”

“To make sure you’re ok ? Always.”

“-sigh- Yes. Yes Bruce, I want you here. I want nothing else, in fact.”

“Ah, not even pop-corn ?”

“...Once we’ll have pop-corn, I’ll want nothing else.”

“Um, why is there tampons in your drawer ??”

One day, one of Bruce’s associate, Carlton, needed some paperworks to finish a deal, and came into his office. Bruce was on the phone, and gestured to him to just pick the papers up in one of his desk’s drawer.

Only the man misunderstood and opened the wrong drawer and...

“What the-Why is there tampons and pads in your drawers ?”

He asked, half-bewildered half-amused. Bruce finished his phone call, and answered :

“Why wouldn’t there be ?”

“Um, are you a woman ?”

“No, but my wife, who often come to this office, is.”

“Jeez Louise Bruce, never pegged you to be such a simp haha ! Oh man, they’re even “organic”, how far can you go for one woman right ? Haha joking of course, or maybe..haha !”

There was something in the tone Carlton took that brushed Bruce the wrong way. Something disrespectful and irritating. Not disrespectful to him, as if he cared to be called a “simp” (by a grown ass man by the way, which made it even more ridiculous). No. He didn’t care. But..This was his wife, they were talking about, in the end.

“A...”simp” ? Because I have items who can be useful to my wife in my desk drawer ? A place in which she often comes, as I already said ?”

His voice was cold, and Carlton definitely noticed. He always thought Bruce was an affable man, but sometimes...Sometimes he had something almost scary in his eyes.

Ah, but Carlton wasn’t the kind of man to really take this things seriously. And he added :

“Come on Bruce, don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous ?”

“No.”

“I just think it’s funny you have a drawer full of those things.”

“As I said, my wife comes by often, and might need it sometimes. I keep them here for her. It often came in handy you know.”

“Don’t say that, that’s so gross.”

“Why ?”

“Just thinking about it.”

“Just thinking about something my wife, but also yours by the way, have no control over ?”

“My wife doesn’t- We just don’t talk about it.”

“Well I guess yes. Or you wouldn’t react that way. Do you not take care of her when she has her periods ?”

At the word “periods”, the man opened his eyes wide, which made your husband roll his. It truly TRULY baffled him that this dude was being grossed by OBJECTS and most likely didn’t take care of his wife ? How could you love someone and not want to comfort them ?!

“Well, I don’t think she- I- She doesn’t - I ...It’s embarrassing, no ?”

“No.”

“Well, maybe it’s not with your wife but with mine it has been. She asked me a few times to buy pads for her.”

“Why would it be embarrassing ? I can assure you, nobody is going to think it’s for you.”

Carlton’s face was steadily going red. He said :

“It’s just something we don’t talk about.”

“Why not ?”

“It’s just...gross and...”

“Why is it gross though ? Why do you think that way ?”

“I mean, you know what periods are right ?”

“Of course I do. It’s something happening to a very large chunk of our population, and that is a natural phase in their life. Do you think your wife wants to have periods ? Most likely not. Mine definitely doesn’t. But she does. So I do keep pads and tampons here in case of an emergency, in case she has nothing else on her.”

“Nothing else ?”

“Do you think only pads and tampons exist for women’s periods ?”

“I-”

“It’s not hard to read up on it a bit. Especially when someone as close as your own wife is a “victim” of it."

Awkard silence. Clearly, the man was uncomfortable. Bruce sighed, and said :

“Just go take care of those papers.”

Evidently relieved, his associate almost ran out of the room.

Bruce kept thinking about how funny Carlton thought it was to have pads in his drawers. How he was about to mock him further before he got called out. “Simp”. If taking care of the woman he loved meant being a simp, then whatever.

Bruce couldn’t stop thinking about his associate’s words. And it gave him an idea...

The next day, every newspapers and local news channel talked about how the (Y/N) Wayne Foundation gave millions of dollars to every school and public places in the country to provide free tampons and pads to women. And how Bruce Wayne became a huge advocate of the “period positivity” movement his wife started.

“Periods shouldn’t be taboo.”, he said in his speech for the grand-opening of thousands and thousands of free pads distributors.

When the kids are around.

Dick

Dick was little when he first witnessed what your periods did to you, and he downright panicked when you fainted in front of him while you two were shopping for Bruce’s birthday present !

That morning when you woke up, you knew you were going to have your periods. You always felt it in your bones, a little bit before it truly started...But you also promised little Dickie you’d help him chose a gift for your husband.

You hated breaking your promises. Especially the one you made to your kid. He was just nine, and already experienced so many heartache...You couldn’t just break a promise you made to him, no matter what.

So you went anyway, knowing there was a high chance you’d feel ill during the day. You were hoping, in fact, your periods wouldn’t truly start up until the evening, and so you could spend the day with your son.

Alas...

“Mom ? Mom !? Someone help !!”

Your fainting during your period never lasted long. Just a sudden drop of energy, feeling dizzy, and falling...you woke up fast. Opening your eyes to see your baby boy with tears in his eyes. You knew what happened, and reassured him immediately.

You refused to call an ambulance, and instead called Alfred to ask if he could come pick you two up (you would NOT risk driving while in this state).

And there you were, sitting on a bench with your son while waiting for Alfred who would be there as soon as it takes to get from Wayne Manor to Gotham’s City Center.

“Are you sure you’re ok ?”

“Yes, don’t worry, this is normal.”

“Fainting is not normal !”

Dick looked so distressed...Should you tell him what was going on ? But he was such a young child.

Ah. But you were amongst the people who thought that kids weren’t as stupid as many people thought. And that they could handle the truth, especially this kind of things.

Understand what was happening to you would surely easy his mind. And make him understand, and act accordingly in the future. Wether with you, or a possible girlfriend ?

So you do just that.

You explain to him what is going on. You don’t give too many scientific details, but you explain as best you can so he understands.

“And every women has it ?”

“Every women have periods yes. But not everyone’s hurt.”

“Why do yours hurt ?”

“We don’t really know. I guess I wasn’t lucky ?”

“Scientists don’t know ?”

“Well, research on it are rather recents to be honest.”

“Why ? Women had it long ago too no ?”

“Yes, but it was a little taboo.”

“Why ?”

“Patriarchy.”

“Oh, damn patriarchy.”

You laugh. You knows he didn’t understand your answer, said as a joke to yourself. But it’s absolutely adorable how he immediately sides with you anyway.

“When I grow up, I’ll be a scientist. So I can help.”

“Ah, I thought you wanted to be an adventurer like Indiana Jones ? Or “whatever dad is doing I want to do it too” ?”

“Well. I can do more than once things at the same time, right ?”

“Sure you can. You can do anything.”

He smiles at you, and get closer for a little cuddle. And that’s how Alfred finds you two, your son hugging you, and you hugging him back, on a bench in the streets...

************

After the initial panic, Dick made it his mission to take care of you. He got really scared when he saw you faint, and would actually be a little...overbearing.

When he knew you were on your periods, he’d literally forbid you to walk around, and would make sure you had everything you needed.

His attentions, plus Bruce’s, made you feel like periods weren’t so bad in the end ?

Even as a grown up, Dick would often come by the manor with your favorite cake, for example, when he knew you didn’t feel well. And he would still get strict with you if he saw you roaming around and getting too busy while he knew you were in pain.

He’d do whatever you had to, for you. Wether it was cleaning things up, picking groceries...Running any errands for you, so you could rest.

You were definitely grateful. Even if sometimes, you wish you could just tell him to ease up a bit...Ah. But how could you really ?

The trauma Dick felt when loosing his parents made him overprotective and rather intransigeant. This was just how he was. And you always loved all your children unconditionally. You could take him being a bit too overprotective sometimes, because oh, oh he brought so much in your life...

Jason

You having really bad periods is the reason why when Jason, as a child or an adult, heard anyone say to a girl : “Jeez, why you so moody are you on your periods ?!”, would get mad.

It was cute to see his little ten years old self lecture grown adults about it : “Periods are really tough on a girl ! It’s not their fault is they don’t feel well or have mood swings, be more empathetic !”.

And it was still cute to see him as an adult glare at those who’d say this and give them a sermon about why it was wrong, and they better not say it again “or else” (and when a man like your son said the words “or else”, literally no one wanted to find out what he meant by it).

Once, someone told him, sarcastically :

“Wow, you drunk a lot of “respect women juice” huh ?”

“What is that even suppose to mean ? I’m being a decent human being. You should try it sometimes. If respecting women is so foreign to you, that hearing me say what I said is funny and ridiculous, reassess your life mate.”

It’s really not like anyone really wanted to argue with your son. Besides the fact he was very tall, and as a vigilante definitely worked out a lot...he had a “dangerous” air about him. It was his eyes maybe, daring anyone to argue and making them understand he wouldn’t back down without a fight ?

Ah. But if only people tried to look beyond that. If they only tried to know your son.

They’d realize he’s the sweetest little buddy around.

It surprised people that you still called him “little buddy” even as he was fast approaching his mid-twenties. But for you...

For you he was still that little, sweet Jay he was before he died. The one that you could still see sometimes, behind all his anger, trauma and hurt.

Ever since he was a child, Jason always felt everything more than anyone around him. He was an “hypersensitive” child. When he was angry, he was enraged. When he was happy, he was the happiest boy on Earth. When he was sad, it was hard to console him.

When he grew up, and all those bad things happened to him...This trait of his got even more enhanced. It was sometimes hard to reach him under all those negative emotions...Yet. Yet you managed to do it.

Bruce too...But that was another story.

For now, you just always felt extremely proud that your son was actually not as harsh as some people thought (the same mistakes they all kept making about your husband...you hated this kind of assumptions).

He always stood up for the underdogs. And was always respectful, and would voice his opinions.

Like how he hated when people told women : “ugh are you on your periods ?!” if they were being just a tiny bit difficult (sometimes, not even).

As a kid, Jason would worry a lot about you when you were on your periods. He hounded Bruce to know if you were ok, which your husband didn’t mind, of course. But he never quite dared to “bother you”.

Of course, he would never bother you. But Jason was a complicated kid who always worried too much. He didn’t want to get in your way, or annoy you.

So he had little quiet actions for you.

Like getting your slippers warm when you’d wake up, by placing them near the radiators all night and putting them right beside your bed before you’d wake up. Or bringing you hot beverages. Baking your favorite treats, and leaving them in strategic places so you’d see it. Or scolding his dad when he thought he wasn’t taking care of you enough haha.

Jason was a good kid. Nobody would ever change your mind on that. He was a good kid, to whom bad things happened. Yet he never strayed from his principles...No matter how people could see his recent actions.

Jason was a good kid.

He was your kid.

As a child, he hated this week during which you had your periods. He dreaded them as much as you did. Just like Bruce, he had a hard time standing you being hurt...

As an adult. It was the same. And he still had little silent actions to make you feel better. To make your day easier.

That was Jason for you.

Such, such a good kid...

Tim

Tim, very much like his father, was a boy who needed to always have a plan, and to know everything before finding solutions.

When you were on your periods, he’d always know. Because he kept a calendar about it.

Some people might find it weird, but...Why ? He kept count of the days to know when you’d have your periods, so he could act accordingly. So he wouldn’t be caught off guard by one of your mood swings. And so he could take care of you ??

It was an act of care, to keep track of your periods. Sometimes, he even knew before you when you were going to have it.

People who thought it was weird to kept such a calendar, were the same people who thought periods were gross and a taboo subject.

Sure, it was definitely not very glamorous. But it was part of half of the World’s population life ?? Why keep it taboo and refusing to talk about it ?

Tim immediately, just like his dad, did a lot of research on women’s menstruations...Which got you to be called in his principal’s office once.

The man was worried, and unhappy that your son was reading a magazine “for woman” about “menstruations”, he thought the topic was vulgar and inappropriate.

Your son was 13. Which was also the age many of his girl friends were experiencing their first periods. And that principal was out there, scolding him because he talked about it, making an entire generation of little girls thinking they were wrong for having periods ?

Needless to say, you got rather mad. And the principle never called you ever again (if he had to call, he was always making sure to get your husband on the line, and not you).

And so Tim kept learning everything possible about it, in the hope also to find the perfect remedies to ease your pain. He tried a lot, to help you out. Gave tricks to Bruce, too.

And so, kept a calendar.

This allowed him to know if something was wrong, as well.

He was the first one to guess you were pregnant with Thomas, because of his calendar. And one time, you had hormonal problems and he’s the one that told you you should check an endocrinologist because you’d been too irregular with your periods time !

Yes. Just like his dad, Tim needed to know a situation fully before acting. And seeing him trying to know as much as he could in order to help you was...why, it was the most adorable thing in the world.

Cass

Cass’ periods were not painful, and you were so glad for her.

To her, it was a mild annoyance, there was no pain, it was just irritating. And yes, she had mood swings and could easily get mad, but it was nothing major.

She never even knew other women could have it so bad...The education about periods was really lacking ! They never talked about it anywhere !

Cass was a woman of few words...but she knew how to pass her emotions through her body language. Oh, how she knew.

“Momma.”

Just like your other kids, she’d come check on you when Bruce couldn’t take care of you. You wanted space sometimes, which they all understood. But honestly, during your periods, when you were so sensitive about everything ? You also wanted them around almost all the time.

A paradox. Very fitting of those damn periods time.

Cass would just sit with you, and make sure you were comfortable. She wouldn’t say a word. Lay her head on your shoulder, and hold your hand. Watch movies with you. Hold you close.

She was delicate with you, as if afraid to break you.

Just like your husband, her presence had a soothing effect ? As if nothing bad could ever happen to you as long as she was there (and that probably was right, Cassandra would never let anyone touch her “momma”).

She didn’t need to talk. She didn’t need to do anything more than stay with you when you didn’t want to be alone.

She never experienced the pain you had, but if even to her, who had painless periods, it was annoying and a damn plague ? Then to you...

She didn’t need to do much.

Just her being there already meant a lot.

Her holding onto you, even as she stayed afraid of anyone’s touch for so long.

“Momma.”

Cassandra was your only daughter. And oh you were glad her periods weren’t as bad as yours. That’s all that really mattered to you.

“Momma.”

You often fell asleep with the warmth of your kiddo right there. Next to you. Knowing she wasn’t going to leave unless you wanted to. Knowing she wish she could take your pain on.

Ah. But no. No even if it was possible you’d never allow that. You were the mom. YOU were supposed to take their pains on.

And knowing that Cass never suffered on her periods as bad as you did, was enough. After all, your baby suffered enough in the past...She could get a little lucky, right ?

“Momma.”

That word was music to your hear. Cass’ first word to you.

She didn’t need to talk anyway. Being here was enough...

It was more than enough.

Damian

Everyone who saw Damian around you would notice that he wasn’t quite the same boy than "normally”.

He was calmer, nicer, and sweeter.

You’d argue that it was his real self. That this was his “normal”. That he was just never allowed to show his true heart before, and wasn’t used to trust others and open up. And you were definitely more than happy that he finally managed to do that after arriving into your home.

That none of you ever gave up on him.

You especially had a calming effect on him. After all, he never had a “conventional” mom, who could take care of him when he was sick, kiss him good night and make sure he always had everything he needed.

Some would say you coddled him too much...And you didn’t care. Because that boy lived 10 years being the opposite of coddled. So what, if you’d cut the crust off of his sandwiches, or read him bed time stories every single night ?

Damian loved it. As he often said, being a momma’s boy was “hardly something he was ashamed of”. He never felt loved and safe before, you bet he’d take every chance he got to be cared for.

He never got to act like an actual kid. You allowed him to do just that, AND you made him feel like he belonged. Finally. Like he had an actual family.

So...The day he heard about your absolutely awful periods, what did he do ?

Every single day of your life with him, you had at least one nice intention to him. Wether it was baking his favorite cookies, or telling him how proud you were of him, you always had nothing but kindness for him, often going out of your way for your son.

It was normal for you. Of course. And you did it with all your children...but you had to admit maybe Damian had just a little more of it, because he really never had anything like that to him.

And to him, it only felt normal then, when you felt at your worst, that he’d be there for you exactly like you were there for him.

During any mood swings, he’d have comforting words for you. He had little attentions for you that just made life easier.

Again, it would greatly surprise anyone but his family, but when you had your periods, he did a lot of overly sappy little things.

Like for example : every month, he wrote seven things he found extraordinary about you and would put them in a jar. Seven. The number of day in a week. And usually the number of day, give or take, your periods would last.

The jar would be sitting right on your bedside table on the first day, with the indications you had to read one paper every morning, or every time you felt down (it was supposed to be one paper a day). Sometimes, you’d go through his seven messages in less than a day...and magically, the next day, the jar would be filled again.

Damian made sure of it.

This was just a small example. But it showed exactly what kind of boy your son really was.

If he was heartless, a killer, someone destined to destroy the World...would he really put that much effort into making you feel love ? Into making you feel better any way he could ?

You didn’t think so. The only way your son could ever “turn bad”, was if you (and Bruce) stopped caring for him. Left him alone (A/N : this is a CLEAR jab at current comics canon, if you know what I mean :I ). Only if he felt abandoned, unloved, and rejected.

You knew your boy had, just like you, “rejection dysphoria”. It was hard for him to accept any kind of rejection, and it made him act out and hurt. But that was another story...

Right now, all that mattered to you, is that you knew your son was always going to be there for you, just like you’d always be there for him.

That he finally learned how to love, and care. That he would never unlearn it, as long as you lived.

Your periods sucked.

So bad.

But Damian was a ray of light in the darkness of those seven dreaded days...

Duke

Duke’s mom also had endometriosis.

Over the years, he perfected a “special remedy” he always made her when she had her periods.

He hesitated to make it for you. After all, it was something that made him bond greatly with his own mom...was making it for you, now, acceptable ? Did it mean he forgot about his mother ?

No. No of course not.

Duke scolded himself for even thinking that. You too, became his mom. He learned over the years that it was ok, to have two mom. That when they’ll find a cure for his parents, it wouldn’t take away the years you filled in for the mother role, and took care of Duke as if he was your own.

So here we go.

Some ginger. Some lemon. A dash of his little secret ingredients. Your favorite blend of tea. And it was done.

He brought it to you, saying it always soothed his mom...

And just that.

Just those words. It meant so much.

“It always used to soothe my mom. Used to do it all the time, ever since I was five !”

He said with a smile.

It was something he used to do for his mom, and now he did it for you. Just this. Just that fact, it was enough to make you feel better.

It didn’t take away the pain, but mentally ? It felt amazing.

You drunk his concoction and...Oh god.

Oh god it was disgusting. And...Ah. Yes. His mom probably pretended she liked it. “Ever since I was five !”. Ha. So cute. But also, it really was gross.

At the same time, you felt a pleasant warmth spread through your body as the terrible aftertaste slowly faded. Duke smiled to you, and with a little mischief in his voice said :

“It’s really gross, isn’t it ? But it does the trick haha”

There was a few seconds of silence. During which you blinked at him, not quite registering what he just said. Until...

You burst out laughing. The little mischievous smile, and the way he said “it’s really gross, isn’t it ?” was just too funny.

Your communicative laugh spread to Duke, and as he laughs it makes you laugh even louder too and...You forget.

For a moment you forget about your periods. The pain. The anguish. The emotional labor. This damn week of hell.

You forget.

And you just laugh.

You laugh alongside your son.

Thomas (if you wonder who the H is Thomas, you can check my “Batmom” masterlists, he appears from the story “the great mall adventure” ^^)

Thomas must’ve been about four, when he first saw you having your periods.

Your littlest baby was also one of the most sensitive out of them all (right along with Jason, the two of them cried their eyes out when they watched “Inside Out” and Bing Bong disappeared). Bruce always said he took that after you. And honestly, you couldn’t disagree. It’s true you could be very sensitive.

So one morning, when he woke up and went to breakfast and heard you weren’t feeling right, he immediately went to you and...

Bruce found him an hour later, crying in his room.

“Oh wow hey hey, what is it buddy ?”

He asked, trying to hide the panic in his voice. Thomas might’ve been sensitive, but he rarely cried. He was just a very empathetic boy. But also a cheerful one, and he had a knack to see the good even in the worst situations.

So seeing him sob like that, made Bruce’s heart drop.

“Is mommy going to die ?!”

It took Bruce a few seconds to get a hold of his racing heart. His son crying. And asking if you were going to die. It shortcircuited his brain for a few seconds. Until he realized what Thomas was talking about...

“Oh, oh no champ, no, mommy isn’t going to die.”

Your kids were used to see you strong and fierce. Of course the first time your little one would see you on your period, he’d think something big was wrong.

He had just recently learned what death really mean (you can read about this here : The day he understand what Death means), and since then was so scared it’d happen to his parents. Or his siblings. Or anyone he knew, really...

Picking up his son and slowly and softly tapping his back in soothing circles, he walked around the room and rocked him until the boy calmed down a bit, before trying to explain as best he could why mommy felt bad, without going in in too many details.

Once Thomas understood this was just like when he got a fever that time, that it would pass, he felt much better. But also worst. Because his mommy wasn’t feeling well ! And it happened often !

Bruce reassured him that there were ways they could help you...And soooo :

Thomas brought you hot water bottles, with the help of his dad (the bottles were almost as big as him), and ended up falling asleep on one as it laid on your belly (he heard that humans’ body heat was very strong and wanted to “help the hot water bottle”).

The water in the bottle became cold, and you removed it..Your son didn’t woke up, so you laid him back down on your belly. And he was warm and so tiny, and you loved him so much...It made you feel like the luckiest woman in the world, to be surrounded by people like this little one.

And all your kids. Alfred. Your friends. Broosh...You fell asleep with sweet dreams made of warmth and cuddles.

Not long after, Bruce came by to check on you, finding both you and Tommy deeply asleep and...An overwhelming feeling of happiness took him over.

You weren’t the only one feeling lucky. Except for Bruce...For Bruce it was even stronger, because after his parents died, he never thought he would be happy ever again.

This was why he’d always be there for you. You gave him another family...

His schedule was freed, and he had a busy day. A nap sounded perfect. Especially while nestled against you, with his little one right there.

Dick came by in the afternoon, and found all of you like this. Bruce holding both you and his son, Thomas taking way more space than such a small body would make you thing he’d take.

Dick snapped a picture, and send it to the group chat he had with his siblings and some other close friends and such (like Clark, Wally, Conner, Diana etc etc they used the group chat to gossip about Bruce, mainly). With the caption : “Big bad bat tamed by a four year old”.

Cass send multiple hearteyes emojis. Jason said it was adorable and send a crying emoji, and didn’t care one bit what anyone would think of him saying such things. Damian yelled at Dick that he should’ve put the comforter back up on his baby brother and mom because it wasn’t properly put on !! Duke send a : “I’m downloading that picture for the next time he gets mad at us and we need to soften him up”. Tim replied with a gif of Maes Hughes from Full Metal Alchemist saying : “dis dad”. Clark said “they look so peaceful, you wouldn’t believe he threatened me just yesterday to punch me because I made a joke” to which Diana answered : “that joke was so bad I wanted to punch you to. Cute pic btw, give kisses to Tommy for me, you should come see me more, I just stocked my freezer with nothing but ice creams”..Everyone send a little comment about it.

Because even superheroes, could have normal conversations about those they love.

Suffering alone is a thing of the past

It’s funny. You couldn’t even remember, now, what it felt like “before”.

Before.

Before you met Bruce.

Before that first time he showed up to your apartment to take care of you.

How were your periods before that ? The worst.

Definitely.

Actual Hell.

Not that they were feeling better now. Oh no. There were time your overdramatic self exclaimed : “uuuugh just kill me alreadyyyy” when the pain was too grand...But you weren’t alone anymore.

That’s what made it a bearable moment of the month.

It still felt as bad as it used to when you were younger.

But it wasn’t just you agonizing in your bedroom all alone anymore.

It wasn’t you wishing you’d have someone to take care of you, and to try and ease the pain. Not anymore.

It wasn’t you crying with nobody to dry your tears anymore...

No. You had an entire army of people right there just for you.

Alfred, your children, and most of all...Bruce.

Your Broosh.

Ah. If only some people could see this side of him you and your family knew. The caring and loving one. In a way though, it was rather comforting and made you feel special, that only you and your kiddos knew the real Bruce ?

Of course nowadays, some of his closest friends like Clark and Diana weren’t fooled anymore either. But they’d never see him the way you did, when you were in unbearable pain, and he was right there, drawing soothing circle on your back, keeping you warm and safe...

This was only privy to you.

Your Broosh.

Yes.

Your periods were still as painful as they used to. But now...

Now you weren’t alone anymore.

The end.

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Hey guys ! I hope you liked this :). As usual, feedbacks and reblogs are always welcomed ! (Especially lately, the reblog ratio seems at its worst haha). And again, I really hope you liked this. I was finally able to sit down and write after weeks of being stuck in a depressed mood, so I’m quite excited about sharing this. But as usual, always a bit nervous that you’ll be disappointed blahblahblah low self-esteem and all that haha... :). I just hope this is to your liking. Thank you.

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