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darkspine10 · 8 months ago

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GF Fanfic - Ego-Death

Tangled Roots (27,062 words) by darkspine10

Chapters: 5/7

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Rating: Mature

Note: The music which inspired this chapter was a sitar piece composed by Jim Sullivan for the Space 1999 episode, The Troubled Spirit (aired 1976). I found it quite memorable, and recommend checking it out to add to the mood.

“And through here… tada!”

Pacifica entered into a cramped room with octagonal wood-panelled walls. “Oh wow. A tiny cupboard.” It was cramped enough with the two of them, let alone if Zera had been present. She had bowed out for the night, probably impatient for Pacifica to leave so she and her wife could get back to their private evening.

After drying off from her second soak of the evening Pacifica had re-dressed, making sure that the old fur hat hadn’t suffered any permanent water damage. She continued to clutch Wendy’s hat in one hand, strangely unwilling to leave it lying around to get lost in Mabel’s home. Her jacket was still soaked through, despite its promised waterproof material. In any case the right sleeve was little more than ragged shreds. She’d been very grateful to get out of the bikini top, and since she didn’t care about appearances around Mabel, hadn’t bothered to put her bra back on.

The t-shirt above was now pleasantly dry. It was white with green around the neck and sleeves. Several varieties of trees were illustrated on the front, with their scientific nomenclature listed out beside them. It was the only good purchase from the souvenir shop of a tourist trap she’d visited with Mason as part of a circuit around all of the local attractions of Oregon beyond the Falls. The trip had been described by Mason semi-seriously as ‘checking out the competition’. He’d bought the shirt for her as a gift. ‘So he’d always be close to her heart’, he’d added with a wink. Amidst the old growth redwoods, oaks, and maples on the shirt was, obviously, Pinus Ponderosa.

For her part, Mabel hadn’t bothered to change out of her bikini, other than wrapping her towel around her shoulders as a makeshift cape. She shook her head, sending water droplets flying into Pacifica’s face. With her best attempt at a performer’s voice, Mabel wagged her finger and said, “Ah ah ah, surely by now, Paz, you realise that appearances can be deceiving. Voila!”

Tugging on on a velvet rope, Mabel caused a set of curtains arranged in a triptych to slide open. Pacifica stared aghast at a trio of tapestries depicting a familiar yellow triangle floating above scenes of unending deprivation and horror. “So you decided when decorating your new house that a critical feature, before painting the bathroom walls even, would be to erect a shrine to Bill Cipher? Have you gone completely round the bend?”

“It’s not a shrine worshipping Bill, dummy. These tapestries are just sick as hell.” Arranged on shelves beneath each of the three tapestries were an array of arcane objects. Mabel cradled a pyramidal prism in her hand but there were also scrolls and spell books, quill pens, and even a brass orrery. Mason would probably have concocted a study like this, if Pacifica had been willing to let him remodel their house, though she doubted he would have endorsed this subject matter. Mabel being the architect behind its design seemed to stretch credulity.

Pacifica knelt down to examine one of the tapestries, noticing a discolouration around the base. Some of the patterned fabric was obscured by black splotches. “Was this burned?”

Mabel guiltily returned the prism to its place in the tableau. “I kinda pulled it out of a fire. A lot of this stuff comes from Grunkle Ford’s old relic collection. Back from when he was being tricked by Bill into building the portal. After Weirdmageddon we made a big bonfire to get rid of all that nasty junk.”

“But you had your eyes on a fetching demon tapestry? Nothing you do is normal, is it?”

“That’s the way I like it.”

The other two tapestries featured illustrations that less obviously matched the dream demon, rendered in more abstract tones of red and black. One on the far right caught Pacifica’s eye. There was no top hat or arms attached to this grey triangle, and the serpent-like slitted eye was blood crimson. Beneath the ominous symbol were prostrated figures, cowering under the branches of a burnt tree and surrounded by piles of bones. “I swear I’ve seen some of these designs before.”

“That’s cause you probably have,” Mabel said, a light crimson colour rising in her cheeks. “I cribbed these two tapestries off of McGucket.”

Pacifica snapped her fingers. “Of course, they used to hang in the Northwest mansion. The southwest corridor to the drawing room if I’m not mistaken.”

“You have a good memory, probably.” Mabel shrugged. “All I know is your parents used to own them.”

Pacifica failed to stifle an involuntary shudder. The thought that her parents would willingly collaborate with such an evil presence briefly passed through her mind, before she dismissed it equally swiftly. “I wouldn’t put too much stock in it. You know what this town is like with triangles.” Over all the centuries of his involvement in mortal affairs Bill’s presence had seeped into the wider culture. Even as a kid she’d seen yellow triangles graffitied on bridges or etched into countertops. It was endemic. “I reckon this is old Modoc Indian weave-work. I’ve seen some similar patterns before. If my dad ever had anything to do with Cipher he renounced it all after what that monster did to him. I still get nightmares about that gruesome face.”

“Well that’s why we’re here. To get rid of all those pesky nightmares, anxieties, and postpartum depressive episodes!” Mabel put a hand on her friend’s shoulder, then leant in to whisper in her ear. “Between us sisters, he still freaks me out too. The worst nightmares are the ones he appears in, because-“

“You can’t tell if it's the real him or not!” Pacifica excitedly finished in shared sympathy.

Mabel looked left and right as if afraid of being eavesdropped. “Do you think the thing you’re hunting tonight is anything as bad as Mr Top Hat and Bowtie?”

Pacifica listed with her fingers. “Terrifying? Yes. Nightmare-inducing, you’d better believe it. Traumatising for life? Jury’s still out.”

“Well, it’ll be a real adventure finding out!” Pacifica couldn’t tell if Mabel was being genuinely optimistic or simply teasing. “Mind out the way.” Mabel crouched down and rolled up a woollen rug that covered almost all the floor. Pacifica only had a second to glimpse swirling calligraphy patterns. “Got this rug from Grand Bazaar in Istanbul one time I was visiting,” Mabel explained, shrugging. “What can I say, a gal likes her souvenirs.”

That much was true. Pacifica had seen the boxes Mabel filled with sentimental old junk lying around the house. Her previously transient lifestyle meant she’d made use of a lot of long term storage lockers, or otherwise hauling heaps of her stuff everywhere. At least now she had a permanent residence she’d have somewhere to leave it all while out campaigning.

Pacifica tapped a finger on the sharp point of one of the glass prisms, watching the miniature rainbow it cast. “So what’s all this in aid of? A private little side room for when you’re feeling particularly occultish on a Friday night?” She suppressed a small chuckle. “Were you on drugs when you made this?”

Mabel rolled her eyes. “Oh ha ha, go for the cheap jokes. I did something called ‘using my imagination’.”

The way her friend had snapped back at her made Pacifica wince. “Sorry, that was rude of me.”

Mabel made an easy smile and placed a palm on the menagerie of trees above Pacifica’s heart. “All is forgiven.”

Pacifica didn’t feel like she deserved to be let off the hook so easily. She’d have to work better on not being so insensitive. “I meant it Mabel. I apologise for being so crass with you and Zera tonight. I lashed out and you didn’t deserve that. I’ve just been so tensed up today. No, not just today. All month. This might be the kind of room you’d find in a serial killer cultist mansion, but there’s a consistent aesthetic to design. It has atmosphere.”

“Not bad for a college dropout,” Mabel said, winking up at her. “I am a master craftsman at anything I put my mind to.”

Pacifica smirked. “Like that ‘super secret craft project’ you’ve been working on but haven’t told anyone yet?”

Mabel whirled around in shock, her smugness immediately punctured. “Wait what, how’d you know about that?”

“All those furtive phone calls and texts over Christmas? It was hard to miss when we were all under your parents’ roof. Plus you were hardly being subtle. So what’s this one about? Art piece? Your own line of hot tubs?”

Mabel bent down beneath the triptych where sets of drawers were inset in the wall and mumbled to herself. “Great, another secret I failed to keep. You’ll find out when I’m good and ready this time, Paz.” Pacifica graciously accepted this crushing loss and watched Mabel as her outstretched finger hovered over the drawers “Let’s see, left side we got smokables, right side is the painkillers, centre bottom is… aha! The acid drawer!”

“So when I mentioned drugs I wasn’t far off?” Pacifica offered.

Mabel, oblivious, scrambled around on all fours, using a stick of chalk to draw five straight lines directly onto the wooden floorboards. The lines formed a pentagon about 25 inches across. Mabel pointed at the blank space within the lines. “Now, sit.”

“Do I have to?”

“It’s part of the ritual. You don’t just take a hit of the drug, you’ve gotta get your brain in the right state. That’s what the whole room is for, the eight sides reflect and refract mental energy. I can get you a cushion if it’s easier?”

“No, I’ll accept your cruel and unusual method of helping me.” Pacifica sat cross-legged in the pentagon, internally reflecting on Mabel’s particular spiritual leanings. When it came to religions Mabel treated them like a buffet, picking and choosing traditions and beliefs from all over the place. She thought back to Mason’s earlier words about gullibility, wondering if he’d been too harsh. When the world they lived in already contained such multitudes, what was the harm in embracing a little madness?

Mabel hurried about to pore over one of the shelves, making a great clattering when she tripped over some keepsake or another. Pacifica grinned to herself. She studied her friend’s movements. Mabel had all the grace and elegance of a controlled demolition. Somehow she’d learnt how to counteract her innate clumsiness by predicting every stumble and fall milliseconds before the fact and shifting the balance so she stayed perfectly upright. She would dance about gently on tiptoes, seeming always one instant away from collapsing to the floor but never tipping over that critical threshold. It was quite an impressive achievement, though Pacifica would baulk at describing it as balletic.

Mabel rummaged around in one of the drawers, tossing items out of the way, before producing a plastic bag full of colourful sweets. “Have some gummy koalas. You’re gonna need the energy.”

Pacifica took a handful and swallowed them down gratefully. Today had taken a lot out of her. It wasn’t just the exertion; her mind was worn out and frenzied. She hoped the rest of the night would lend her clarity, if nothing else.

Awkwardly shoving mementoes aside to make room, Mabel slapped down a round CD player of a type Pacifica hadn’t seen in nearly 25 years. Clasping a disc in one hand, her friend clumsily dropped it into the player and pressed a button with a loud click. The sound of smooth saxophone and lounge piano quietly filled the chamber. Mabel snapped her fingers at Pacifica. “Close your eyes.” Pacifica begrudgingly did as instructed. “That’s it, good. Calm your breathing, open your mind, and appreciate the contours of the chamber. I’ll be your guide for your journey on the cosmic express!”

Pacifica cracked an eye open, unable to resist a minor snort of laughter. Her sliver of view showed Mabel retrieving a hefty leather bound tome, covered in strange symbols. She craned her neck, trying to get a better look. “Is that one of the journals?”

Mabel blew on the book, sending dust swirling around in the tight confines of the room and causing Pacifica to sneeze. “No peeking. This is the Bardo Thodol: The Tibetan Book of the Dead,” Mabel said matter-of-factly. “Found it in a flea market.” It was official: Mabel Pines was the world’s biggest hoarder. “It’s the 1975 translation.”

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m putting my life into the hands of someone who can’t even read Tibetan. Lame.” She only half covered up her trepidation with a grin. “Why exactly is this book relevant?”

“It’s one of the major arcana when it comes to recreational tripping. It features Buddhist teachings on how to reach intermediate dream states, like the brink of death, sensations of rebirth, that kind of thing. Once the hippies got their hands on it they opened all new avenues of consciousness. With my help you’ll be able to ascend into a drug induced mania, where you’ll hopefully find the ape ghoul thingy.”

Pacifica took a moment to digest Mabel’s words, then gave a long breath out. “Not to cast shade, but that doesn’t sound like it will work. Getting high to catch a demon? Really, Mabel?”

Ignoring her friend’s pessimism, Mabel continued her frenzied dance around the tight space. At each of the five corners of the pentagon she set down a candle and lit each one. Pacifica felt confined, unwilling to move a muscle out of position lest she knock one of them over.

“Ritual can be a tricky thing,” Mabel said as she waved a match to put out the flame, “but believe me, it works. I’ve experienced it. If you think Gravity Falls is strange normally then you ain’t seen nothing. There’s a whole other side to this town.” She picked up the chalk and started linking the corners of the pentagon with straight, criss-crossing lines. Pretty soon Pacifica was enclosed in an even smaller floor space at the centre of a pentagram. “I’m not talking about the sub-realms like the Unicorn glade or the Crawlspace. This perception of the Falls can only be accessed by guided meditation, aided by a little boost from my good friend Lucy.”

“Who’s-”

Mabel triumphantly set a small vial down on the floor by Pacifica’s feet, inviting her to take a look. The vial was filled with a clear liquid that congealed slightly when Pacifica shook the glass container. “Trust you to have a supply handy,” she muttered.

“That’s some genuine lysergic acid diethylamide, LSD for short. Perfect for inducing otherworldly vision states and dissolution of the self. I bet that skull you’re wearing is probably infused with a trace element of something similar. Maybe something like magic mushrooms, though in a quantity that’s barely detectable. So, you ready to take your first trip?”

Pacifica swilled the chemical around experimentally. “What if I have a bad reaction? God knows my body is still flooded with hormones.”

Mabel screwed up her face. “After six months? Nah. I’ll be here in hand if you have any bad reactions, and I’ll keep the dosage nice and low for your first time, don’t worry. A couple of micrograms should do it.” Inserting a pipette she extracted a handful of drops. “It’s easy really, mixing and diluting to create my own brews.”

“Alright, calm down Walter White. Mabel Juice and Smile Dip addled your brain and you need ever stronger doses to hit the same high, huh?”

Mabel shrugged and flashed a wicked smile. She swung the pipette towards Pacifica. “Now, open wide. A drop or two on the tongue should do it.” Pacifica recoiled, keeping her mouth clammed up like when Leah refused to eat her baby food.

“I’m… not sure about this. Maybe in the morning we can search for the Unshriven again, with clearer heads.”

Mabel frowned. “It might not still be lurking around by tomorrow. You’ve gotta face it down on its home turf. The astral plane.” She made an arc with her hand. Pacifica found it silly how childish her friend could make this sound. The Unshriven was a matter of life and death. “The mindscape can be accessed by certain spells, but a raw approach can be more rewarding. It’s kinda like knitting a sweater. The warp and weft of time and space can be tamed with a little expansion of consciousness. You won’t even need to leave this room.”

“Are you sure you're not just hallucinating during these ‘spirit journeys’? That would be the more obvious explanation. You’re really trying to tell me you’ve stumbled onto a mystical sub-realm all on your own? Mason’s never mentioned anything like this. Nor your uncle Ford in all his journals.”

“They don’t know everything.” Mabel winked.

Her irreverent dismissal rankled. Corduroy had expressed similar sentiments. Pacifica could accept the locals might have some innate cultural knowledge the journals were lacking, but this was on a grander scale. An entirely new way of seeing the Falls, just a few drops of a chemical away. When she put it like that there was a certain tantalising allure to the prospect.

The journals had always been a means of cataloguing the oddities of the Falls, making sense of the insanity, boxing the phenomena into neat categories. Here was Mabel casually coming along and blowing up the entire paradigm. Pacifica refused to believe it had been an entirely futile effort. Whatever happened tonight she would venture forth and bring back a report to add to her journal, and colonise some small corner of the extremities of the strange.

“Alright. I’ll do it.” Pacifica didn’t second-judge the statement. It would be her last, definitive word. What came next would be her own choice to confront.

“Great!” Mabel said, beaming with joy, before taking on a more serious conviction. “Oh, and by the way, before we start I wanted to say sorry for another reminder about you know who.” Mabel gestured at the purloined Northwest tapestries. “If it's not too much to ask, when was the last time you spoke to them?”

Pacifica folded her arms and leant back as far as she dared without bumping into the candles. “We email from time to time. Strictly on the short end, mainly life updates. They tell me about some successful trade deal, I share baby photos of Leah. That’s about it. I haven’t spoken to them face to face since the wedding.”

Mabel blew air out from her cheeks. “Wow, eight years. Impressive streak. Puts into perspective the five years we went without seeing each other.”

“I hope I’ve been able to make up for lost time in the last three.” Making a quick judgement, Pacifica reached up and put a hand on Mabel’s arm. “Hey, before I do this… thanks for helping out tonight. I’ve been in a rough place and you didn’t hesitate to try and make it better. You know I’m being serious when I say this because I hate the word, but: we’re besties. Spouses not included.”

“Aw, Paz, that’s so sweet of you!” She leant in for a hug. Though she was still dripping wet and her skin was clammy, Pacifica accepted the warm embrace from the brunette. Setting her hands on each of Pacifica’s shoulders, Mabel guided her back into the seating position within the pentagram. “Ok, last chance to back out. I know I’ve made it my lifestyle, but I don’t want to sugarcoat it too much. This process isn’t always pleasant. It has to break you down before it can build you back up. Remember, you don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t have to do anything. There are no monsters rampaging around a city, no rare cryptids to protect. The only stakes are whether I can mend some turmoil between two families… and maybe find some peace of mind.”

Mabel softly grinned. “Those sound like big enough stakes to me, honey.”

Steeling herself, Pacifica put on the fur hat as a totem of good luck. “Look after my journal for me,” she said. “When I get it back I don’t want to see any illicit crayon scribbles.”

While Mabel avoided eye contact and checked her concoction one last time, Pacifica snuck a glance at her phone. She was mildly surprised to see it was only 2am - she felt like it should be much later. Her home screen, the background of which was a photo of Merrise holding Leah as they jointly rested on the couch at home, displayed a single notification. It was a message from Mason from an hour ago telling her was heading to bed. Pacifica once again felt the bond of trust, that Mason didn’t stay up on her account, having faith she’d overcome any challenge she set herself. She also guessed that he was probably a little anxious about where she was, even if he wasn’t admitting it. She fired across a short text saying she was alright and would be back in the morning. The instant after getting confirmation that it had been sent she received a thumbs up in return. He was watching out for her. Pacifica put the phone away, safe in the knowledge that Mason would sleep well knowing she was in no danger. No immediate danger at least.

Mabel cleared her throat and spread her arms out above her head, beginning a proclamation. “It’s time. The osprey skull will be your anchoring thread, tying you to the Unshriven so you can combat him on the astral plane. You’re all ready to go, prepared to take the plunge, embrace the strange, taste of the forbidden fruit.”

Pacifica shooed her fussy friend away. “Relax, it’s not my first cosmic dream vision.” She stuck out her tongue and waited patiently. Mabel squeezed out two tiny drops of acid. Pacifica detected a bitter taste, but otherwise couldn’t sense any stronger flavour.

“It should take a few minutes to kick in.” Mabel moved subtly over to the shrines and the CD player. She turned the volume on the muzak down. “Oh, and if you see any geometric forms don’t buy what they’re selling.”

“I won’t,” Pacifica said with a sly smile. Mabel sounded less like an anarchist and more like a kids show host.

“Now, close your eyes, relax, and expand your horizons.”

With a click, Mabel moved onto the next music track and turned the volume to max. This was nothing like the passive ambiance of the jazz. A solo sitar chord echoed off the octagonal wood panelling. Already Pacifica was unsettled. The sitar reverberated off the walls and through her bones. It wasn’t a pleasant sound, the rhythms discordant and overlapping with one another. The sitar had an artificial twang, electronically synthesised. A low hiss, the artefact of the old player, only heightened the sense of eeriness.

Very soon Pacifica was no longer aware of Mabel’s presence, fussing about around her, nor of the surrounding room. As the sitar increased in tempo she felt adrift from the normality of the simple room in the simple house. She tried in vain to focus on the feeling of the wood panels beneath her rear, but this too dissipated away like a half-remembered dream.

Now what was she supposed to do? “Mabel?” Nothing. No sound. Only the barest hint of flickering candles. Even the haunting sitar echoed as if distant. Maybe more time was needed to let the effects of the drug become noticeable. She kept her eyes resolutely sealed shut and tried to picture in her mind an image of the Unshriven. The bared tusks glinted a dull eggshell white over black fur, as dark as driving on the interstate out of the valley at night. The image quickly faded. A memory, that was all. She couldn’t actually find her target by wishing hard enough.

A blur danced at the edge of her vision, in the black space behind her eyelids. Her blood ran cold. The Unshriven was there, lingering like a bad penny in the corner of her eye. But that was ridiculous. It couldn’t be as simple as this. It was all psychedelic hokum. A drawing on the floor, some candles and low lighting, a few words of guidance. Surely she wasn’t that suggestible?

She peeked her eyelids open and gasped in rapidly surmounting horror. The walls of the room were melting away like paint dribbling off a canvas, like wax on a candle. Of Mabel there was no sign. Pressure built behind her eyes and she was unable to prevent herself falling backwards into the newly formed expanse of emptiness.

In a free fall, air rushed past her. Fragments of Mabel’s shrine went flying by, shattered glass fragments, torn threads, and broken planks of wood spinning into the abyss. Pacifica flailed out for any kind of support. She only succeeded in sending herself spinning.

Abruptly she came to a halt, suspended horizontally. She blinked and tried to understand what she was seeing. No matter how disorientated she told herself it was her own brain that was the cause, random synapses firing under the delirious effects of a potent chemical. Unless she’d already entered the so-called ‘other side’ of Gravity Falls.

Gradually the darkness resolved beneath her. She began to glide downwards, no longer in deleterious descent. Stretched out in front of her eyes was a round, grey basin. The scale put her off at first. Everything was rendered in miniature, as if viewed through a microscope. Recognition sparked in her mind when she saw a pair of dramatically split rocky outcroppings. The view was in fact her home - the valley of Gravity Falls, lit in a harsh contrasting monochrome.

She strained to make out details. The mountains around the town and the dome-shaped hill of Crash Site Omega were visible, as vast defining parts of the landscape, but the rest was a bleached blur that made her eyes water. It was like peering through the static fuzz of a television, trying to comprehend the image of a low resolution black & white video. No, not quite monochrome, she realised. The landscape below was lit up in contrast to the endless galaxy-filled sky above. She was seeing through a form of night vision.

Propelled downwards at high speed, her body swept over the treetops. She moved in graceful arcs, her motion that of a bird of prey. She stared down at the osprey amulet but saw only a pair of feathery wings on either side of her body. Part of herself accepted the transformation. If becoming an osprey was a requirement to traverse the spirit realm then who was she to argue?

Swooping past the outskirts where Mabel and Zera’s abode was found, she traced an invisible ley line through the woods. In this perception there were no modern structures, merely half-formed echoes. The town high-street was an assemblage of foundations etched in swirling purple contours. Singular eye-bats drifted in flocks, observing all that transpired.

Pacifica landed on an outcrop of bare granite, her body seamlessly returning to her basic human form, flaws and all. She tried to take a closer look around but her vision was swamped with distracting shimmers. A spotlight trained on her face would be less blinding. Stumbling forwards she left the site of the town behind almost too swiftly. Space was compressed as she was shuttled along a conveyor belt across the divots and hillocks of the valley bottom.

Dizzy, she fell against the trunk of a tree. The wood snapped and collapsed. The pallid grey bark made Pacifica throw up her palms. It was diseased, near dead. The bark oozed sickly globs of congealed fluid. Pacifica watched in stunned bewilderment as the putrescent sap drifted up into the air. The texture was akin to blood, but paler, a mix of scarlet and pink. The globules vanished up into the spiral of stars suspended in the firmament.

Pacifica’s urge to flee became overwhelming again. That was when she really became frightened. The Unshriven was right in front of her, breath hot in her face. It was even more pungent than when she’d come close to the ape in the flesh. The odour was that of repression, of paper and leather left so long that it rotted into mulch, of sticky sweat clinging to skin during every vulnerable moment, and everything that signalled death. The creature reared up on its stubby legs and roared. The skin below its neck started melting away, rolling off the torso like cooking meat, exposing bone and sinew. It had found a way to become even more abhorrent.

Pacifica’s grasp on the situation deteriorated to the point she felt faint. Her legs gave out from beneath her and she tumbled to the cold and sterile earth. Her back impacted on a soft bed of grass. She blinked twice. Bemused and pleasantly surprised to see no sign of the Unshriven, she rose unsteadily. A meadow of gently swaying tall grass, lit golden by a half-set sun, surrounded her. In one direction were vast cliffs towering over an ocean of raging tides. In the other, a castle delicately perched atop a conical mountain peak. Pacifica was at peace here in the warm breeze. She screwed her eyes shut and remembered.

This was Dimension 52. A realm so distant from her own that it hardly felt real at all, even when she’d visited in-person. That trip hadn’t been long after her body had been irrevocably altered, purged of all scars and skin marks. It was where she’d had her first realisation that life would never go back to the way it had been before. This was the world on which Leah had been conceived.

For the first time a frenzied panic overcame Pacifica. Leah was conceived in another dimension. The simple fact now terrified her. She’d never even thought about it, about what it meant for a child to develop inside her across multiple universes, where the laws of physics were malleable. There was every chance that she’d suffered acute radiation poisoning from all their hops between dimensions. What could that do to a growing embryo? For all she knew it had caused irreversible birth defects for her child.

That didn’t make sense. Leah was perfect. Her new reproductive system was freshly minted after all, and six months had shown her no indications of illness or disorder from her baby. Unless it was a fragile window of normality before the horrors came crashing down.

The light of Dimension 52’s sun winked out. Gusts of wind blew against Pacifica’s exposed arms and grass tickled her ankles, though these sensations soon disappeared as well. She shielded her eyes when a single harsh light burst into existence above her. The intensity made her stumble. She knew this place too. Not here. Anywhere but here.

Crumpling against asphalt, a great weight held her down. Spitting rain and tears obscured her sight but she couldn’t mistake the light pouring from the open window. The house she’d shared with Mason in Jersey had never been inviting. Now she dreaded the very sight of it. This was her lowest moment, when she’d convinced herself that even the ones she loved most didn’t want to be around her. When her infertility had finally become impossible to ignore and utter despair felt like the only path available.

“No, please,” she whimpered, her throat ragged. Through the haze in her mind she tried to focus on her happiest memories. Surely that would work to keep herself anchored. She pictured squid whales dancing through an ocean in the sky. Her first kiss, music thudding through her entire body, her heart beating even stronger. The gift of a yellow sweater, specially re-knitted just for her. She tried hardest to imagine her daughters wrapped in her arms. Her two baby girls were like smoke, intangible and gone from her embrace.

Her stomach gurgled uncontrollably. A yawning dread opened up before Pacifca. She knew it was about to get worse. Contractions wracked her lower body, sending spasms through her legs. Her hand gripped against her shirt and failed to stem the awful churning inside. She could feel movement below the skin of her belly as it flexed and gurgled. Fleshy lumps pressed out from within. Pacifica laid back, screaming through the unimaginable pain.

A gaping hole tore asunder between her legs. Muscles painfully forced a living creature out of her womb. It slopped on the ground, coated in internal fluids and blood, tied to her by a pale umbilical cord. Pacifica’s daughter stared up at her with bloodshot, unblinking eyes. Her daughter had no skin. Pacifica decided that screaming again was besides the point. She curled up in the foetal position, as helpless as her child.

She was paralysed in the rain, pathetic and helpless. The light in the house was switched off. Not even Mason would come from her this time. She was an infertile wreck, unfit for motherhood, let alone heroics. Everything her parents had said about her was right.

A light pierced the edge of her vision. Above her Corduroy’s judging face leered. Which Corduroy it was, the father she’d pledged to help or the daughter she’d failed to save, didn’t matter. The gaze penetrated her useless body all the same.

“Get up.” Pacifica raised her head at the voice, barely daring to believe it. “Get. Up. Pacifica.” She groped in the air for a supportive hand, dropping it down again as she was overcome with fatigue.

“I can’t… why do you think I can do this?”

“Because, whether Northwest, or Pines, or something else, you are a warrior. You struck out from your parents, your wealth, your legacy. The only person who can define who you are is staring at you in the mirror.” Corduroy offered a helping hand. “So. Get up.”

Surging with a burst of energy, Pacifica accepted the outstretched hand and climbed out of the puddle of despair. She shuddered, finding herself alone again. No helping hand, no nightmarish homunculus of her daughter. Her surroundings had been replaced by the lifeless woods once more.

She wasn’t infertile. Quite the opposite. Pacifica wasn’t sure which alternative made her more uncomfortable at the moment. She didn’t want to be reduced to this, to sinew and bone and organic processes deep inside. But then, what was this drug trip if not another physical process?

Striving for something inside herself she didn’t fully understand, Pacifica took the first step forwards, stumbling towards salvation.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfic #pacifica northwest #mabel pines #tw drugs

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emmyrosee · 2 years ago

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Jim Mason

EVERYTHING I SAY SOUNDS WEIRD AND WRONG

fanfics

Can’t Sleep (Fluff)

Baby Boy (Fluff)

Beauty Is Pain (Fluff)

Playful (Fluff)

Love Regardless (Fluff)

Night Terrors (Angst)

Sober Up (Fluff)

drabbles

Pick Him Up

When He Falls

Stood Up

Accidental Proposal

Solve My Problems

Being Playful

Craving Comfort

NSFW Content. Reader Discretion Advised. Minors DNI

Sweets.

The Jim Mason Experience.

#jim mason #jim mason x reader #jim mason imagine #jim mason the tribes of palos verdes #the tribes of palos verdes #emmy's masterlist

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littledemondani · 3 years ago

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All of this Stan Vogel stuff is making me think about camping. What do you think all the Cody boys would be like if their s/o forced them to go on a camping trip?

this was a lot of fun to do!

it's not news that michael langdon spent a few days in the woods prior to stumbling across the satanic temple and he's made it very clear that he would rather not go through any of that again. but the apocalypse was soon to come, and the world, as everyone knew it, would cease to exist. no more beautiful sunny days or lush green meadows full of flowers native to the area - all of which you loved dearly. so michael didn't put up a fight when you asked him to spend one last weekend out in nature, despite hating the idea with every fiber of his being. instead, he simply enjoyed the next few days with you at your favorite spot by the lake, deciding if ending the world was something he absolutely wanted to go through with.

as for duncan shepherd, he is completely revolted by the idea of camping. when you had mentioned you wanted to go on vacation, he figured it was to bora bora or maybe even paris, not a campsite in west virginia. several days out of D.C., in the middle of nowhere, with no cellphone reception, and no wifi is not his idea of a fun time and he makes it his mission to get you to change your mind. you don't, of course, and can't help but giggle at his pouty faces and complaints about how bugs shouldn't even exist.

jim mason, on the other hand, is all for a weekend of camping. before his family moved to palos verdes, camping trips were a regular occurrence for him - when things were a lot simpler. he sees this as an opportunity to show you who he really is, down to his roots. he takes care of packing the basic camping essentials and setting up the tent once at the campground. the next few days are filled with him teaching you how to fish and you showing him which constellations are which come nighttime.

we all know our boy stan vogel would never object to camping, however, he is completely shocked when the idea slips from your mouth. after all, he is always the one doing the initiating while you whine and groan about how he needs to get a new hobby. he goes above and beyond to make sure every single thing (whether needed or not) is packed because, "you never know, babe. stranger things have happened in these woods. not that i can tell you what, exactly, it's all confidential."

the first time you asked xavier plympton to go camping, he laughed in your face. "me? camping? babe, the outdoors and this hair do not get along," he says, pointing to his perfectly styled locks. after a few bats of your lashes and, "please, xav?" in that voice he finds so adorable, he eventually gives in. once he's out there, he finds himself enjoying the peace and quiet compared to the hustle and bustle of L.A.

the stars and planets have to align in order for andy dolan to agree to a camping trip. every day with him is spent walking on egg shells, not wanting to upset him with the mere mention of doing anything other than staying home and doing blow all day long. you want to get out and enjoy some time away, thinking it’ll do the both of you some good. much to your surprise, he agrees, without much effort needed on your part. he’s actually excited to get out of eden for a few days and away from the watchful eyes of the paparazzi.

baby tags: @fckinsupreme @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @wroteclassicaly @lovelylangdonx @angelicmichael @sojournmichael @instinctsxbaby @ritualmichael @ferndolan @blackwiddows @dailylangdon @confettucini

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angelicmichael · 4 years ago

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hi! could i request some dad!jim finding out you’re pregnant (but it’s very unplanned and you both are like very young adults who are definitely not ready for something like this) but he’s very excited nonetheless? thanks! <333

A/N: hello!! Thank u for requesting this 🥺💖 hope u like it!! I tried to make it pretty fluffy but ofc theres a little angst hehe. This is basically already a given but just in case - Jim is 18+ in this.

Warnings: angst revolving around being pregnant and just.. general mentions of everything that has to do w being pregnant LOL, bit of Jim being insecure for 2 like seconds, lots of fluff

As much as you would like to claim that it was a typical Friday night; to your absolute dismay you found it was proving to be quite the opposite. Instead of enjoying the night and going out with your boyfriend like you had previously planned to do - you were curled up on your bed.. in tears.

You told yourself earlier today that by now you would've pulled your shit together; atleast enough to go see Jim at the bowling alley like you had planned but.. of course, that didn't happen. Things never seemed to go according to plan as of lately.

You currently stayed buried under far too many blankets on your bed.. not bothering to watch TV or go on your phone (going on your phone would only force you to see all of the missed messages and calls you had gotten from Jim) so - you settled on listening to the stormy weather outside your window instead. Rain battering against your glass window helped distract you from your current unwanted, rational thoughts but.. it was soothing and distracting atleast. It helped you take your mind off of the problem you were currently dealing with.. which, had to do with your current state of being.

The past couple of days you had felt odd.. to say the least. At first you merely thought you were coming down with the flu; you had all of the symptoms. Like nausea, aches and pains.. but there was also some inconsistencies that started to make you question whether it was really the flu, because you didnt have a high temperature.. And thats when you conveniently missed your period.

You knew you didn't have the fucking flu.

A pregnancy test sat on your nightstand; the box it came in was discarded on the floor amongst other.. various trash. You had taken the test hours ago; and you were right about your suspicions of your illness not being the flu. The two pink lines on the pregnancy test confirmed your previous thoughts.. and that's what prompted your episode of you staying in your bed all day.

Your first instinct was to call Jim but.. you knew you couldn't do that. There was no fucking way you were ready to let him in on what was happening. You knew that you two were both completely unprepared to be parents; for multiple reasons. You were both extremely young, neither of you had super steady jobs and.. it just wasnt the right time. That's what you kept telling yourself anyway. The more you denied what was probably going to become your reality made you feel more in control and safe than how you currently felt.

However; you still were yearning to call Jim and to tell him to come over but you also didn't want to let him in on the fact that anything was wrong. He had more than enough on his plate as it was with his chaotic family (and even calling them chaotic was a nice way of putting it).. you knew that Jim didn't deserve to deal with how you were acting right now but; you were selfish. Even though you knew Jim would be better off not knowing, you still wanted nothing more than for him to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay.. even if it was a lie.

Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted once you heard the front door of your house unlock and click open. You immediately jolted up in your bed and pushed your blankets off of you. Attempting to smooth out your clothes as fast as possible; immediately knowing that it had to be Jim Mason. After all, only one person had a key to your house besides you..

You heard his footsteps start to grow gradually louder as he approached your room.

"(Y/n)?" Jim's voice was loud and high pitched as he called out to you.

It startled you a bit to hear how concerned he sounded, but you quickly bounced out of bed and flew to the door - opening it quickly just to find Jim a foot away.

"Jim," you breathed out with relief.

You rushed over to him and greeted him with a harsh hug. Completely disregarding how startled he looked, and instead relishing in how truly happy you felt he was finally here.. but you knew that the complications of him being in your room with you now also meant he would know of your situation in no time at all. You knew there was absolutely no way you could hide it now.. fuck.

You felt one of his hands rub up and down your back - loosely following the curvature of your spine in a soothing way. You let yourself exhale a few shaky breaths; letting the anxiety leave you with every exhale as you tried to fully relax - knowing damn well that Jim was probably going to ask you for a explanation soon. You hesitated before breaking free from his arms to speak.

"How did you know to come?" You asked; your words spoken quietly and delicately.

You and Jim locked eyes as he stared at you - his blue eyes were swarmed with confusion. He looked at you as if he didn't know the answer to the question you had just asked; almost like you had spoken in a different language entirely.

"W-what do you mean? Of course I came.. we had a date tonight and I got worried when you no showed. Is everything okay?" he stumbled on his words; alluding to the fact that he felt uncertain in himself.

You felt your stomach drop as you heard his words. Oh fuck, your date. You and Jim's date was something you had totally forgotten about after seeing your test results.. you instantly felt horrible. The feelings of guilt, anxiety and fear that started to creep into your system was too overwhelming and too much to handle all at once. You took a few steps back from him; partially retreating back into your room.. hoping he wasnt here to solely yell at you or make you feel even guiltier than you already felt.

"Holy shit. I totally forgot, Jim. I'm so sorry," you admitted; your voice cracking.

You were aware of how your words sounded like a pathetic excuse but.. you were hoping that Jim knew you better than to think that lowly of you. You wanted to say more to help your case but you knew you couldn't.. how could you even explain this situation to him without fully explaining?

Jim slowly approached you, only just to brush past your shoulder and go into your room. He stood close to the center, turning around and seemingly examining the objects and state of your room whilst you continued to stay underneath the doorframe. Watching him in horror as every sense of yours heightened with fear of what he was really doing or thinking.. praying he wouldn't see the pregnancy test you left stupidly on your nightstand.

Your chest was aching now with the unbearable amount of anxiety your heart was infected with. Sweat was starting to grow on your skin; everything nearly moving in slow motion as you watched Jim move to look at your nightstand and then-

"Your room is a mess," he says with a chuckle.

He turns to make eye contact with you for a split second before going over to your bed. Pushing your blankets off to the side before sitting on the edge, and patting a spot off to his left - urging you to join him.

A soft laugh finds it's way to your lips as you exhale with glee and relief.. but you still try your best to act casual and nonchalant for the time being. You walk over and sit next to him, a bit closer than you had originally intended too but Jim automatically wraps an arm around your shoulders. Coercing your body to melt right next into his.

"I miss our date, and act like the worst fucking girlfriend in the world and all you have to say is that my room is a mess?" you said with a laugh.

Jim is quiet at first, but the newfound silence isn't awkward. However, before you can avert your gaze somewhere else - he puts a finger under your chin so that you're forced to make eye contact with him.

"Dont ever say that about yourself when you know that's not true. I would never think something like that about you."

The pain that lived in your heart so vividly only moments before, struck once more. It was clear as day that he was hurt, but it wasnt by your actions. It was your words that did the damage instead.

"I'm sorry, I just.. I'm not feeling the most like myself right now," you tried your best to not clench your jaw as you spoke.

You figured that from this point forward you were going to have to chose your words very carefully.. but you also knew that Jim deserved the truth.

You started to get restless with anxiety, even with Jim's arm still around you (which had now dropped south to your waist). You gaze fell down to your hands.. the urge to just stand up and escape this inevitable conversation that you knew was going to happen was stronger than ever; but you knew that if you were going to be honest with Jim - you had to start now. It was now or never. Jim seemed to notice that you had more to say because he stayed silent, watching you as you sat with your mouth ajar - trying to find the right words.

"I'm not sorry for just missing the date earlier.. There's something else," you sorely admit.

You felt sick with anxiety as you felt Jim's arm pull away from you.

"Something else?" He spoke timidly.

He stood up; taking a few steps backwards away from you as his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched. You knew you would have to speak fast before anger completely took over him.

"Yes but.. it's not what you think," you stood up and walked over to him.

You took his hands into yours.. pretending to try to not notice how he slightly recoiled from your touch - his hands limp as you held them.

"I've been feeling really different lately.. I've been sick.. and i know it's not the flu or the cold, Jim."

As soon as your words left your mouth - it was almost as if Jim knew exactly what you meant. It was nearly impossible to try to not laugh at his reaction - seeing how his entire demeanor changed so fast. You felt his grip start to tighten on your hands. His blue eyes suddenly held so much emotion and pure joy in them.. His happiness was so infectious that you couldn't help but to smile too.

"Wait.. Your-"

"Yeah. I'm pregnant," you spoke with a giggle.

Jim fully smiled this time and let out a loud, full laugh.

"You're pregnant?? Why didn't you tell me?"

He let go of your hands and enveloped you into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around him without any hesitation; so happy that he was taking this news greatly but.. you still couldn't help but to feel sort of unsettled still about how unprepared you two truly were.

You broke away from the hug; and took a step back. Nervously holding your hands together as you spoke.

"I mean.. we're so young, Jim. I wasnt sure this was something you even wanted, or that you would be ready for."

"Is this something that you want? And I mean in regards to us. This is a big deal and this would mean that-" Jim's voice started to shake as he spoke.

You almost could feel his insecurity seeping through his words. You knew exactly what he was getting at - this meant that you two would essentially be settling down. Previously in your life; the idea of settling down so early fucking terrified you but.. with Jim, you would be willing to do anything. As long as he was by your side, you weren't scared and you knew you had no reason to be. Everything happened for a reason and after all.. maybe this was the perfect time for this to happen. You and Jim had been through so much thus far - you knew you both deserved to have some stability and to have something that was genuinely good for once. Although the exact details of how you would make it work were still murky; living out the rest of your life in domestic bliss really didn't seem like the worst option at the moment.. If anything, it was starting to look like the best.

You put one finger up to his lips to shush him - looking at his light blue eyes before muttering, "shut up and kiss me, Jim Mason. Of course I want you."

Your finger fell off from his lips; and your hands gently moved to his face. Before your lips had even met- you felt his hands at your back. Pulling you in closer.. closer.. and closer until the distance between you two had completely dissipated. Your lips moved together at first in a tortuously, agonizingly slow manner. It was soft and tender; yet needy. As much as you wanted things to escalate and pick up - you thrived in the delicious slow burn that Jim was putting you through.

All fear and anxiety you had previously felt completely melted away and was replaced with utter euphoria. Every fiber of your being felt as if it was on fire; you felt like you were glowing. Your senses being completely occupied with Jim only made your feelings of contentment grow. The smell of Jim (a mixed combination of the ocean, bonfire and cigarette smoke), the taste of Jim (which tasted faintly of energy drinks along with a bit of saltiness that was reminiscent of the ocean) made you feel like you were in heaven. The one and only coherent thought that ran through your mind was: Jim, Jim, Jim.

Your hands moved from his soft, burning cheeks to his hair, while you let your other hand drop down to his back near his shoulders. Your fingers ran through his hair; pulling a bit on a few random strands when you felt his teeth sink into your bottom lip gently.. You heard a groan expel from his throat in response to this; which only made you smile into the kiss - and then giggle which of course; unfortunately ended you and Jim's kissing escapade. You two didn't fully pull apart from eachother though. Jim took a step or two back but he chose to hold onto your hands.. refusing to let you completely escape his embrace.

"I would be lying if I were to say I wasnt nervous, you know," he said.

You hesitated for a second before swiftly leaning in and kissing the side of his mouth - choosing to stay a little closer in proximity this time when you parted. If it wasnt for him bringing it up - you would've completely forgot the conversation you two were having prior to the kiss. Your hand resided on the side of his face as you looked into his eyes.

"Its okay. I'm nervous too but.. were in this together. Me and you," you stated with a reassuring smile which Jim only mirrored.

"That's all I need," Jim replied softly.

You knew in that exact moment that you had absolutely no reason to dwell or worry about the future when you had someone like Jim to rely on. Even with the future being as uncertain as it currently was; having Jim's love was really all you needed.

Jim insisted to stay over for the night; even though you tried your best to assure him you'd be fine - he didn't believe you.. and your kind of glad he didn't. You quickly realized that trying to make solid plans for the future would be for another day; for when every time you tried to speak - Jim shut you up with a kiss but you weren't complaining.. how could you, when this is what you wanted so badly? The comfort of knowing you would have Jim forever by your side was enough to let you fully relax and melt into the moment with him.. and let the future become something that you could have dreams about later.

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @instincts-baby @melodylangdon @littledemondani @langdons-pinkyring

Let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist :)

#jim x reader #jim mason x reader #jim mason #jim mason fanfic #cody fern fanfiction #my fic #its been so long since ive written for jim so hopefully this is good 😭#i dont rlly like the beginning but its fine LOL #asks #anon

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kn1feinthec0ffee · 5 years ago

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quarantine with the ferns!! - hc

warnings: none

notes: i really miss these boys 🥺😔

i just wanna preface this with: please please stay in quarantine! there’s people in my state that are protesting in large crowds, without wearing masks and gloves and definitely aren’t social distancing, and stuff like that doesn’t help to flatten the curve. just please stay inside, and if you have to go out, please wear the proper protection and stay at a safe distance from anyone else, okay? by doing that, you’re helping more people than you know.

stay safe you guys, i love you. ♥️

*******

jim mason

sweetie baby oh my goodness

poor jimmy’s just like a lil puppy

he jus wants to go outside and go surfing

you don’t even underSTAND

this boy loooooooooonnnnngggssss to go down to the beach

but the beach is...��😪🥺 closed.

but that doesn’t stop him from dragging you down there with him even just to hang out for a lil bit

you bring a floaty raft thing and just go down in shorts and a tank top, since you don’t even anticipate getting wet

but jimmy treks down there in some trunks ready to go for a lil swim

and while you’re minding your own business, sunning on the raft, he swims underneath you and FLIPS YOU OVER

you def come up spitting out salt water and trying to clear your nose and ears so you can CHASE HIS ASS BACK UP THE HILL.

this is the inciting incident for one of the most dangerous things that could possibly happen during quarantine,, a prank war.

he goes back down to the shore while you’re asleep and fills up a whole BUCKET. with sand and water and ever so carefully positions it on top of your bedroom door

of course he’s mindful not to get you after you’ve just showered because that would be mean, and jim is a lot of things, but he’s not a MEANIE.

“you’re cleaning this up, mason.”

“already on it, l/n.”

so to get him back for that, you pour the milk and orange juice out of their respective containers and switch them on him

so he ends up taking a big bite of froot loops with orange juice, and washing that grossness down with a big gulp of milk

which you got on video of course

“come on, y/n, you can go deeper than that.”

spoiler: you can’t.

you can’t find it in yourself to do anything that might possibly hurt your baby or make him upset with you

except when you suddenly find enough courage to switch his shampoo for hair dye

which ends up working in his favor bc he totally LOVES IT.

“come on, i can work green. don’t you think?”

this ends up starting an impromptu fashion show

but who’s complaining? 🥰🥰

michael langdon

let’s be honest here: this boy?

he was PREPARED.

but not as much as he thought he was

like spending weeks trapped indoors with his baby? what could go wrong?

a LOT OF THINGS

he underestimated how quickly he would get bored

he is literally willing to do ANYTHING as long as it’s a modicum of entertainment.

he sees you playing minecraft one time and he is so instantly invested

“hey y/n, what’s that?”

“it’s minecraft, you have to build a house to survive and you can play all kinds of games with other people.”

“can... can i try? 🥺”

in literal,,,, seconds he’s built a massive mansion

of course he cheats to get so much wood, but he doesn’t use commands or codes or anything

he just stares at the screen and then SUDDENLY his inventory is full of wood

✨💕antichrist tingz💕✨

but he gets bored of that pretty quickly

bc lets be real,, he has the attention span of a 5 YEAR OLD.

so he turns to the next best thing

which, logically, is of course:

sex. literally marathon sex on every surface imaginable.

he even does this thing where he takes you on the coffee table in front of the other outpost residents, but he makes it so they can’t see either of you

also the breeding link jumps OUT ON THIS ONE, but we’re not gonna talk about that.

basically, you have to come up with manymanymanymany activities so this man baby doesn’t get bored

duncan shepherd

oh boy

quarantine with mr shepherd doesn’t start off so well

he’s SO absorbed in his work, he doesn’t spend a lot of time with you.

but that changes quickly once he sees the toll this is taking on you

you try and pretend he isn’t instantly forgiven because his puppy dog eyes are just soooooo cute 🥺🥺

hear me out: this man goes on a whole shopping spree for you, without your knowledge

literally everything: makeup, lingerie, new clothes

and he has you model them for him, hooting and clapping like an audience member and making you blush every time you struck a pose

mr shepherd turns into the perfect housewife™️ and is always cooking huge, delicious meals and keeping the house clean for you

he’s a little ashamed to admit he took advantage of you always doing these tasks when he didn’t know how long it took to do them all the time

he’s come to appreciate you even more than he used to

he may be into more proper, sit down meals, but i’m not saying he wouldn’t be down to snack a lot too

there are definitely lazy days in bed where you two just loaf about, leaving the bed as little as possible

there are also entire days where you do something else in bed if you know what i mean

i’ll see myself out

xavier plympton

uh oh

this boy is NOT accustomed to staying in one place for long periods of time

so he doesn’t!

you guys end up taking the vanta-c out for long drives

usually parking somewhere near a pier or something for a nice view

yes, i did get a little cheesy there, thanks for noticing

like i said, he’s not really used to being stuck inside for so long, so you have to come up with inventive things to pass the time

he definitely has a bunch of aerobics lesson tapes sitting around

he begs you to do it with him, and who could say no to that face?

you do it for a while but it gets exhausting pretty quickly since you don’t do it as often as he does

oh, your muscles are sore?

xavier gives AMAZING massages, change my mind.

like absolutely magical.

he loved to take your shirt off, sit on the back of your legs, and rub your back while slowly letting his hands float to your front 👀

and did i mention his sex drive?

this man is literally insatiable!

this idiot will go out for groceries and probably come back with like,, a copy of kama sutra or something

he wants to try every! position! in the book!

even the really awkward ones that you can’t quite figure out

“xav, it says i have to put my leg over here.”

“and what?”

“i don’t bend that way, that’s what!”

sometimes he just gives up and you ride him or something lol

but overall, he’s very fun to be quarantined with, even though he complains a lot about having nothing to do

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

tags: @emmyrosee @babyboy-cody @moonanonwriting @sojournmichael @leatherduncan @langdondelrey @mxnstersarehuman

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daadddysprincessss · 4 years ago

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mini entry from my new fic, Jim mason x y/n

its going to be like a mini flashback about how y/n met jim and started to date - leading up until ... well you already know if youve seen TOPV. so basically some of this fanfic takes place in the present and the past. I hope you enjoy this little mini blurb.. lol, i should hopefully be done soon

“Hey sunshine - how've you been” Jims voice boomed from above you while he blocked your sun-

“I've been well - how about yourself mason” you looked up at him - “it been awhile” you laughed.

“Yeah yeah - it's good to be back, but hey - you still owe me” Jim smiled

“Excuse me - owe you what ?” you questioned him, then yourself

“You said maybe to coming to a bonfire and i didnt see you at the last 2 we had, so your coming tonight” jim smiled as he unzipped the top half of his wetsuit

#jim mason #jim mason fanfic #jim mason blurb #Cody Fern #The Tribes of Palos Verdes

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taehyungsgrowl · 5 years ago

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Perdón y Lo Siento - Jim Mason x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hey y’all! While I have a hundred WIPs (including sugar babies stuff and FDK) I’ve decided to uhh further procrastinate and start a different fic.

Basically, I’m sitting in the dark listening to “Rosie” by John Mayer and got in my feelings. It’s a great song! Title comes from the lyrics.

Plot: Jim decides to visit his ex. Even if it’s just for one more night.

Warnings: angst. smut. cheating. not being over an ex lmfao. alcohol use. mostly soft smut. there’s some dirty talk. spanking.

The bright moon illuminated his room as Jim laid in the dark comfort of his empty bed.

Another dream of her.

Her soft skin, her airy laughter, her touch.

Her.

He scrolled through the pictures he had saved on his phone from his time with her. Time and time again he told himself he’d delete them, but he could never quite erase the memory of her.

Of them.

12:22 a.m.

“Fuck it,” he groaned out as he got out of bed. He let his feet drag him to the bottle of her favorite wine he still kept in the back of his fridge. Just in case.

Just in case she ever wandered through his door again.

It wasn’t like Jim hadn’t tried to move on from Y/N. Y/N had moved on from him; that alone was enough to make the pit of his stomach burn. He should be over her, but he wasn’t.

He let the sweet cherry wine stain his lips and blur his thoughts. Drinking straight from the bottle he thought about the way her favorite lipstick matched the wine he drank.

1:46 a.m.

Jim found himself buzzed off of yearning feelings and tinted wine. He sat in the back of an Uber outside her house. The driver cleared his throat for Jim to get out of the car as he stared longingly at her home. The cold rain pattered on the window heavily. The heavy rain mimicked the way his heart was pounding in this chest.

A home she was building with someone else.

Jim took a deep breath as he tapped his knuckles on the door. He knew she was home alone since his car wasn’t in her drive way.

Y/N heard her phone buzzing from her nightstand. She saw Jim’s name flash on her screen. Her heart sank seeing the contact photo she still had for him; Jim in their favorite diner with the morning light making his blue eyes look as blue as the ocean.

She knew he’d only call at this time if it were important.

“Hello? Jim?” Jim’s heart skipped a beat as he heard her sleep coated voice over the phone. “Is everything alright?”

“Y/N, come get the door for me.” he tipped forward, resting his forehead on her door.

“What?” she sat up reaching for the switch on her bedside table.

“Please, Y/N. I - I need you,” he tried not sound so desperate, but truth is, he was. It was the desperation that drove him there.

Y/N grabbed a cardigan and threw it over her tank top and shorts she slept in. She looked like what she would describe as a mess, but it was Jim she was seeing - and she’s never really felt as comfortable around anyone like she did with Jim.

Even if they weren’t together, it didn’t just erase all of their history.

“Jim.”she let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding.

“Y/N.” Her name felt familiar on his lips.

“I miss you,” his hand grabbed hers. He didn’t dare break away his eyes from her. He felt lost in them.

She began to shake her head ‘no.’ As much as she felt the emotions tugging at her heart she knew it was wrong. She was with someone new.

Jim and Y/N could both recognize the fire that had drawn them together - neither one was sure if it ever ended.

For them, it was the right person at the wrong time.

Y/N felt like Jim needed more than she could offer. It’s not that she didn’t love Jim. Because she did. She just needed to take care of herself before she could take care of him in the way he needed.

A cold shiver ran down Jim’s spine. Despite the cold rain hitting his back, he felt warm to be in her presence again.

“Jim you should go home,” she spoke softly, dropping her hand from his.

“I had a dream about you.” Jim blurted out, feeling like he was losing her all over again, “It’s why I’m here,” he took a step forward.

“I’m sorry, Jim.” Y/N started to step back, but Jim put his hand on the doorframe to keep her from shutting the door on him.

“Please, baby.”

Baby.

She paused for a moment blinking back tears she didn’t realize she had.

“Shit. Sorry, Y/N. Y/N.” He corrected himself, “Just let me in.”

“Yeah. Okay. Yeah.” She could convinced herself to let him in. At least until he’s completely sober, she told herself.

Jim followed her inside. Not much had changed since that last time he was there. Her home still smelled like cinnamon and vanilla and her plants were still withering away.

He sat at her table as she wandered through the kitchen starting a pot of coffee. Watching her move around her home reminded him of how things used to be; reminded him of early morning dances in the kitchen and late night conversations of what the future would hold.

Y/N handed Jim his mug before she took a sip of her own drink.

Why was he here?

Why did she not feel as bad as she knew she should for having her ex over at two in the morning?

She knew the answer to both those questions, but it was easier to pretend she didn’t. Even if just for a little.

Y/N looked down at her cup, avoiding Jim’s heavy gaze.

“Where is he?” Jim tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, but it rang clearly in her ears.

She paused. Weighing out her response. “Why does it matter?”

“I guess it doesn’t, huh?”

Another pause.

“Are you happy?” his voice was quiet like he almost didn’t want to be heard. He noticed Y/N look up from her drink; finally meeting his eyes.

Her heart was racing in her chest. She let out a long sigh, steadying herself. “Why are you here, Jim?” her head shook in slight disapproval.

“I wanted to see you.” his held his mug tightly, letting the hot ceramic warm his cold hands.

“At 2:00 a.m.” it wasn’t a question.

Jim licked his lips, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a slight smile. “I had a dream about you.” Images of her body pressed against his flashed in his mind again. The silky tune of her moans lingered in his head. He got up from his seat and stood behind her. One hand on her hip, the other reaching for her hand. His lips were dangerously close to her ear, she could feel his warm breath on her neck.

“You were in my bed.” he pushed her cardigan off her shoulder, placing a kiss on it. “We were like we used to be.”

“Do you miss me?” his nose nuzzled her arm, inhaling her sweet fragrance. Even if Y/N didn’t want to have a reaction to Jim - she did.

Every fiber in her body her burning - yearning, for his touch. She couldn’t stop herself from relaxing back against his chest, letting his hand roam up and down her side.

“We can’t.” she said, but leaned her head back allowing Jim access to her neck.

Jim’s hand traveled up her neck and to her chin, turning her head to make her look up at him. “Do you miss me?” he repeated the question with so much more intensity.

He felt her head nodding against his hand. She turned around, her back pressed to the counter as Jim cornered her in. He cupped her face and smashed his lips to hers. All the longing was melting between their mouths as he tasted her lips again.

Y/N kissed him back lost in his touch. The back of her mind compared the way their kiss differed from the ones her boyfriend gave her. The sudden thought of him entering her mind made her shove against Jim’s chest reluctantly.

“Just tonight. Give me one more night.” Jim pleaded. He felt hallow without her, but that had always been his problem. Y/N couldn’t fill all his voids, but the spot she filled made him happy.

The lump in his throat throbbed but he didn’t go all the way there to cry.

She knew him well enough to feel an ache of her own. Despite all his flaws - all their flaws, she loved him. That wouldn’t change.

“Just tonight.” she whispered so quietly, she almost didn’t hear herself.

Y/N got out from between Jim and her counter and walked to her room, looking over her shoulder to make sure Jim followed her. And of course he did.

He always did.

Again, Jim was content with seeing how little her room had changed in the period they were apart. Y/N bent down to pick up a mens shirt that was discarded on the floor. A sheepish look on her face crossed when Jim saw her begin to hide it in a pile of her clothes. He took her hand, shaking his head, letting her leave the shirt where it was.

A silent reminder that this was just for one night.

The room buzzed with anticipation as they both lingered around the bed. “No need to be nervous. It’s just me, remember?” Y/N wanted to freeze this moment - this night, for forever.

“I know,” she stayed still.

“Just me.” Jim leaned in to kiss her, hands on her waist. “And you,” he squeezed down on her sides making a giggle erupt out of her.

“It’s more complicated than that,” she rolled her eyes, a hint of a lingering on her lips.

Jim placed his finger at the center of her lips, “Shh,” he pushed her down on the bed, starting to climb over her, “Enough of that. Just you and me.”

He started to kiss her neck. Plush lips traveled to her chest that rose up and down. The temperature in the room began to rise despite the cold January rain outside.

“I missed you,” she admitted aloud for the first time that evening. She grabbed his face and pulled him away from her chest to kiss his lips. He smiled into the kiss. Jim relived his dream.

Y/N (with some support from Jim) flipped them around so she could sit on his thighs. He hastily peeled off her top, throwing it across the room. Him couldn’t tear his eyes away from her body. If this were the last night, the last opportunity he got, he wanted to use it to memorize every curve and every dip of her body.

She began to grind herself down on his lap. Her thin little shorts were close to no barrier from his growing bulge. Jim let his head fall back on the pillow as Y/N continued to feel his hardening cock tease her pussy.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he dragged his fingers down the side of her torso, watching as the goosebumps raised on her skin.

Y/N raised her hips and Jim helped her tug her shorts off along with her panties. Jim’s pants quickly followed. She sat back down on his lap, his hard length nestled between her glistening folds. She slowly moved up and down his length, teasing herself and Jim before he even entered her.

He dug his fingers into her hips, stopping her mid-track. “I can’t take anymore teasing.” he rasped. “I need to be inside you.”

Y/N leaned down to kiss him, pulling away with a bite to his lower lip.

She grabbed his cock at the base and began to jerk him in her palm a few times before aligning her entrance with it. His head opened her up and she slowly sank down on him. She hissed quietly at how the stretching ached.

“Fuck,” she cursed. He was not even all the way inside her pussy when she began to rock her hips, helping him ease into her.

“God, baby.” he choked out.

She missed this. More than she thought. She missed Jim.

His blissed out expression beneath her. The way he knew exactly where to place his hands. How he made her feel complete in more than one way.

“Feels so good.” her nails dug into his chest when his tip finally brushed against her cervix; she sat snugly on the entire stretch of his cock.

“Move for me, baby.” he began to guide her hips. He got her started, but he really wanted this to be her show.

The wet sounds that filled the room as she bounced down on his cock were enough to almost intoxicate Jim. Skin slapped together found a pace that worked for her.

Y/N could feel every inch, every vein, being hugged tightly by the walls of her dripping cunt.

“You’re so tight.” he growled, “Does he even fuck you right?” Jim’s hand smacked down on her ass when she began to pick up the pace.

She was way passed the point of forming coherent sentences; Y/N was rapidly chasing her orgasm to the tune of her moaning and whimpering.

“Keep going. C’mon, cum for me.” he bucked his hips up me meet the roll of her own.

His guiding words help send her over the edge. Her body convulsed and pulsed around his cock, edging him closer.

Y/N crumbled around him, cumming all over him. Watching the way her eyes rolled back and her chest bounced along with her was enough to make him’s throbbing member explode inside her.

He groaned out her name as he spilled himself into her pussy. Her grinding and bouncing became sloppier and sloppier until she came to an exhaustion, making her collapse on his chest when he slipped out of her.

Jim held her there. On his chest, he held his whole world.

For just one night.

He gently laid her on her side of the bed and pulled the covers up over them. “I love you,” she mumbled around her yawn, letting her heavy eyelids close.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

Jim laid her bed, in another man’s spot, watching her sleep as he dreaded the morning sun that would wash away their night.

But he held no regrets. Jim replayed that last few hours from his lonely night in his apartment to being back in bed with her.

6:23 a.m.

Jim wasn’t able to recall when he lost his battle with sleep and passed out. The warm sun of a new day broke through the window of Y/N’s room woke him up. The familiarity of waking up in her room panged his heart.

Y/N was still sleeping peacefully. Her lips were pursed in a perfect pout as she dreamed of Jim.

Jim stood up and quietly redressed himself. He leaned down to kiss her forehead; leaving before she woke up. He left her with the memory of one more night and dreams of him.

--yeehaw--

is this trash? probably. but this has been one of my most played songs since 2017 so it was bound to inspire something.

tagging: @langdonswhoreprobably @langdonsdemon @hecohansen31 @1-800-bitchcraft @moonanonwriting @xavierplympton @getdevils @lvngdvns @divinelangdon @fckinsupreme @angel-langdon @plsfuckmelangdon @leatherduncan @michael-langdon-appreciation @lathraios @coollangdon @rocketgirl2410 @desertsunflower00 @satcnas @duncvns @maso-xchrist @ritualmichael @daydreamingofcody @kiwi-0497 @sammythankyou @lovelylangdonx @itsaticklekink @wickedlangdon @emmyrosee @blakewaterxx @asiafern @blackredrose27 @psychowriter2702 @angxlbaby666 @discocalico @miss-diamonds @langdonsblood @antichristsxbox @letnaturebefree

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hecohansen31 · 5 years ago

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#45 with Jim for the smut prompts

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I just wanted to say that I am sorry again for how much I am taking with all these prompts and asks, I just... studying hystory of art makes me happy, but is also a long process and a shit ton of images.

Still I’ll have something planned for quite a bit so I hope that I’ll be able to properly satisfy you and as always your support means the world to me!

I hope you’ll enjoy my babe Jim, almost as pretty as the ocean (ok Jimmy you are prettier!).

WARNINGS: Sexual Innuendos, Teasing, Beach and Swimsuits.

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.”

You turned around to send Jim an annoyed look as he smirked, all pleased with himself for his funny comment.

You had been swimming the entire day in the ocean, Jim taking a day off from surfing to properly make you appreciate the cold water, since you weren’t used to it.

And the vastity of it made you a bit uneasy although you tried your best not to show it.

But Jim had quickly caught onto your misery, promptly trying to help you through it in the best way he could think of, which were bold jokes and gentle touches that caused quite the commotion in your body, making you blush as you gently dragged your body away from Jim, who smirked at your small attempt to leave him behind and with two swift strokes of his arms he was in front of you, blocking you.

“Trying to get away from me, babe”.

“More like trying to get away from an idiot” you retorted, but let Jim’s arms envelop you as he softly huffed in fake annoyance at your sarcastic retort, making sure that he was properly holding you before dipping you completely in the water with him, with no absolute warning for you.

You immediately spluttered water as you remerged, terrified by that experience, although you had to admit that in Jim’s arms, you felt the safest.

Although he could be a bit of an idiot sometimes.

You slowly retreated from the ocean to the beach, more to actually tease back the ‘big bully’ that your boyfriend was, than because you had had enough of the water, sitting onto the towel you had laid out for you both.

Your skin looked even lovelier as Jim looked at it, being hit by the full sun of lunch time, making his stomach grumble not only at the thought of eating a snack, after an exhausting day of sun and ocean, but also of you.

Even more when you looked like that, your swimsuit provocatively showing off your body in a way that quieted any insecurity you owned and that small smirk on your face…

… it made Jim wonder what your mouth would look under other circumstances.

He exited the water quickly moving to join you, as you adjusted yourself onto your side, to look more properly at him, something wicked appearing under your sunglasses, in your eyes.

“… and since I got you this wet, why don’t we make sure that you dry properly?” he uttered, as he rubbed lovingly circles onto your waist, slowly dragging them lower till his fingers slipped in your bikini bottom, effectively teasing your wet curls, and making you purr lightly on his nearing mouth.

“… well then you better get home for that” you muttered pushing him lightly, but taking him by surprise enough to get him off the towel, which you swept off his feet, effectively sending him tumbling down in the sand “… if you want to get some, don’t even think about doing it on the beach… sand gets everywhere…”.

And like that you were sprinting off for Jim’s house, him on your tail, a bit taken aback by your wicked ways, but none the less aroused as he adjusted his growing bulge in his boxers.

You weren’t so shy once you were off the waters.

And he couldn’t wait to find other ways to make you wet.

#Jim Mason #Jim Mason Reader #Jim Mason x Reader #Jim Mason Imagine #Jim Mason Fic #Jim Mason Moodboard #Jim Mason Ask #Jim Mason Smut #jim mason drabble #Jim Mason Blurb #Jim Mason Fanfic #Jim Mason Fan fic #The Tribes Of Palos Verdes #TTOPV #Tribes of Palos Verdes Imagine #JIm Mason One Shot #JIm Mason Oneshot #smut prompts

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austinstyles · 1 year ago

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Hey. Just wanted to say please check out my latest fanfic. I would really appreciate it.

Take care.

🩷😃👍🏻🌸🖤

Grace.

#austinstyles #austinstyles chat #fanfic #please i love questions #please check it out #jim mason #jim mason fanfic

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langdonarchives · 4 years ago

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Jim mason enthusiasts.. please get to work with a fanfic with this type of vibe omg

#michael langdon #cody fern #jim mason #tribes of palos verdes #jim mason ff #jim mason fanfic #Spotify

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queencocoakimmie · 5 years ago

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Masterlist

Completed

*Wink (Michael Langdon)

Part 1: The Beginning

Part 2: Michael

Part 3: Lilith

Part 4: Awakening

Part 5: Blood Bound

Part 6: Apocalypse

*At the End of the World (Michael Langdon)

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

* Just Us (Jim Mason)

One Shot

*Forever (Jim Mason)

One Shot

All Hallow's Eve (Michael Langdon)

One Shot

Before Dawn (Xavier Plympton)

One Shot

Only You (Duncan Shepherd)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6 *Teaser

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Work in Progress

The Following (Jim Mason)

Part One

The Antichrist and I (A Michael Langdon One Shot)

Part One

My Sisters Are Legion (Cordelia Goode)

Part One

#michael langdon #duncan shepherd #Jim Mason #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfiction #duncan shepherd fanfic #duncan shepherd smut #jim mason fanfic #jim mason smut #jim mason x female reader #jim mason one shot #AHS #american horror story #house of cards #the tribes of palos verdes

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mercifuldeaths · 5 years ago

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Vertigo: Chapter 11: Hallowed Ground

Vertigo: Chapter 11

Hallowed Ground

Jim Mason x Reader

Warnings for this chapter: Intense descriptions of drug use, overdose, and implications of suicide.

Summary: Waves, rocks, fire, salt, stars.

Notes: I cannot believe I’ve taken so long with this. It’s been finished in my drafts for...months now. Interaction with writers is so important, guys! It truly keeps me going.

Anyway, this is dark. PLEASE don’t feel obligated to read if anything in the warnings is triggering to you or makes you uncomfortable! It’s a bit of a departure from my usual style, but I enjoyed making some parts of this chapter a bit more ambiguous and abstract.

I hope you enjoy xx

Word count: 6.1K

Gif credit: (Unfortunately, I can’t find the source of this beautiful gif. If anyone knows, please tell me and I’ll credit them straight away.)

-----

It was a grey morning. The sun not yet risen, but light enough that stars were hidden in the illumination. Overpowered by something greater. It was still. Everything unmoving. Stagnant.

And for once she was happy about that. Not the ebb and flow of water, the waves, but something that could maybe give them a little more time. It’s how Medina knew something was desperately wrong in the universe-that she was okay with this stillness. She lived for motion, the rocking sensation, whirlpools, rips, anything that moved her but that morning gratitude settled in her chest for the crushing calm. A lake. Not the ocean.

They couldn’t find him. Jim.

A missing person couldn’t be reported until it was twenty-four hours after the time they went missing, she thought. It had only been about seven. But someone could go lots of places in seven hours. Lots of things could happen in seven hours.

The cold started to seep into Medina’s thin jacket, her nose running, eyes red. She didn’t bother blaming her tears on the cold. Jim was gone. She could feel it in her bones. In her soul. She didn’t know why she was still rushing because she knew they were looking for a body. Seven hours was much too long post mortem to do anything about it.

She bet that he was cold, too.

They had decided to split up- to cover more ground, was what she told Y/N but it was really because Y/N still was hoping and Medina knew she couldn’t live with false belief. Maybe it was so she could cry a little, too. They checked the beaches first-it’s where she thought he would go. To the water. To her.

Beaches were strange, she mused. It was all really just one, right? Stretching along a coast...people just decided to name different parts of it. Off topic. It was weird. Her mind wanted to think about anything, anything, but Jim. Cold and blue and grey with his eyes open staring at nothing. His hair curly from the sea air, hands tensed, knuckles covered in dried blood, thin skin stretched over bone. Maybe the sea started lapping at him. It was going to be high tide soon and the winter waves were high. Off topic.

She walked along the shore, where earth met water, the temperature icy but reminding her of why she was there. For the first few hours, she ran. Ran through the sand and the dunes and over fences screaming. She screamed until she tasted blood. He was alive then. His pulse living inside her. The second heartbeat, because they always came in twos. The best things did.

Now, she was tired. And he was dead. So it didn’t matter anyway.

Medina walked, letting the water splash up soaking her jeans. Good. Along the way, she collected sea glass, throwing the ones that weren’t smooth enough back into the water. Someone else will find it when it’s ready. She walked in a straight line pretending a balance beam was under her. You always imagine the weirdest things, Medina. When his voice echoed too loud she turned backward and walked that way. What? No remark this time, Jim?

She looked down the coast both ways. Empty.

She was empty, too.

She smelled burning. Fire.

“Jim, what are you doing?” Medina whispered out her window down to Jim who was crouched next to a bonfire he had created in their backyard.

“Oh hey! Come down here,” he shouted, much too loud for the hour. Medina’s phone said it was close to three in the morning.

Choosing to placate him was easy. He was….she couldn’t tell. But he was talking to her. So he was probably high. She held onto whatever shred of hope was left that he wasn’t. She made it down into the yard and sat next to him without a word. They never had to speak, but she found herself unable to think of anything to say to him.

Jim flipped through the stack of papers he had next to him, licking his thumb, then flipping again. She almost laughed. He had them organized by age but he was mostly done by then, just finishing up when his sister noticed. She looked to him with wide eyes, a weary smile on her face and he felt his chest tighten. Pity. He was suddenly reminded why he was doing all of this.

He found that he liked the warmth that radiated onto his skin from the flame. Orange and hot. Not blue and cold. It was like the sun from that coffee shop. He’d miss that. Added to the list. But it would be okay. In the end, anyway. The smoke curled up into the sky but he tried not to look. He’d miss that, too. The stars. Added to the list.

Medina was looking up, though. Looking for him up there, he knew. Because that was the thing- he wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was doing. Each pill each line perfectly planned to destroy him in the best way. Sometimes Jim was reckless, but not with this. Methodological down to a science. After all, he knew his limits by then.

The way that it hurt them though….wasn’t accounted for. Y/N...Medina. That’s why he wished it was done already. So they wouldn’t have to hurt for him anymore. Y/N...I want to see her. Stop being a selfish asshole, she hates you. I don’t care. I want to see her smile a few more times.

“What are you doin’?” Medina asked, finally looking to her brother.

Jim sighed. “Just getting rid of some shit.” He lifted one of the stacks he had left. This one labeled ‘Kindergarden?’ because he couldn’t be quite sure.

Medina leaned in and tried to read the label but he pulled it away before she could. Hearing him speak, she was almost sure he wasn’t high. And he’s talking again… A flicker of optimism.

“What is that?” she asked, moving faster than him, and managing a grip on the stack. In her haste, a few of the smaller pieces of paper fell to the ground next to her. On instinct, she reached down to grab it and found that it wasn’t a paper at all but a photograph.

The two of them, sitting on the steps of their home back in Michigan. It was the first day of school, she remembered that day. She had cried because she wanted a blue backpack, like Jim. Jim had cried because he was scared. Over waffles, before the bus came, she promised she would watch out for him-make sure nothing bad happened.

Her stomach rolled, nausea creeping in.

“Oops,” Jim sang as he threw another pile into the flames.

“No, stop!” Without thinking she reached into the fire to pull out the photos and small tokens of their childhood together. The only markers of their history besides the memories they held too close to share. “Fucking,” she hissed as the papers fell to the cool grass under her feet, the small flames dying quickly, the pages still scarred and curled at the edges. “What are you doing? Jim, this stuff’s important.”

“Why?” He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and used an ember from the burning pile to light it. “It’s not like I’m gonna need it.”

A pile further from the rest caught her eye. “Is that your birth certificate? And passport?” She rushed over to it, smoke clouding her face. He didn’t bother to try to beat her to it and took another lazy drag off the cigarette balanced between his fingers. “Jim,” she said a little more firm, trying to recapture his attention back from the curling pages in the fire. “What are you doing? Really?”

“I’m just not going to need it, Medina. I’m finally getting out of here.” He smiled. The first one she had seen that wasn’t full of malice in forever, it seemed.

She hesitated, wary of what he was implying. “Where are you going, then?”

“Right now? Probably over to Y/N’s. ‘Miss her.” He stood abruptly, forgetting his plans to keep burning now that Medina would inevitably put a stop to it. She stood back, hands still tracing the edge of his birth certificate.

“If you’re leaving...you’re going to need this,” she whispered and held up the slip of paper.

He flicked the cigarette into the flames that were starting to die down, running out of kindling. Another smile graced his lips but it was dampened by the shake of his head. No.

“I won’t need it.” He winked and stepped closer. She gasped when she felt him pull her into a hug, arms wrapped tight. “You’re my favorite, you know that?”

That was what he always said to her. ‘You’re my favorite.’ She never bothered to ask his ‘favorite’ what? But she really didn’t have to ask. Because he was her favorite, too.

She held onto him, probably longer than he intended the hug to go on for, but he didn’t pull away. Unable to help herself she placed her ear to his chest. His heartbeat was there. The sound that she had grown accustomed to in those nine months sharing a womb with him provided little comfort. He slowly started detangling himself from her, after dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She felt the sinewy muscles pull away and she wanted nothing more than to grab them back around her. Just one more time.

Without another word, he spun on his heel and managed to gracefully clear the fence around their yard, headed to Y/N’s house. He managed a small wave back to his sister, over the shoulder but still moving forward.

She grew cold without him there, despite the warmth coming from the dying fire. He liked fire. Not water.

They had gone camping a few times throughout their childhood and if it was anything Medina remembered it was to not douse the flames with water before retiring for the night. It’s supposed to burn itself out. She resisted the urge to cool the embers with the seawater that was so close to their home. Unable to sleep until the embers were blackened and cold, she stayed awake, watching them burn from her bedroom window.

Y/N had the heat blaring in her car-too stuffy and warm, but the outside was too cold. The worst part was the getting in and out of the car. It wasn’t enough time to completely warm her to the bones so her hands remained chapped and stiff gripping the steering wheel, anything to stay grounded.

Her and Medina opted to separate. Sure, ‘cover more ground’ but also because Medina’s slow glances and supreme uninterest were not helping the situation. Y/N knew Medina need to be near the water so she was stuck driving looking for him.

The roads and houses didn’t change when everything else had. Nothing changed in Palos Verdes, she noticed. Each paved street turning onto more asphalt, leading to a tan house with a red tiled roof. Carbon copies. A wave of nausea settled in her belly as she continued looking into the grey where everything started melding together. The red roof, house, street, sand, ocean-all became one under the blanket of fog.

She tasted blood and realized that she was gnawing on her lip. Briefly, she was about to ask Jim to bum a cigarette but her blood ran impossibly colder when she remembered the empty passenger seat. The vacancy was palpable.

When she reached the end of the street, a dead end leading to a trail to the ocean, she pulled over, hearing the tires spin in the sand. Before she could even hear the car door slam behind her she felt the biting cold on her hands and face. It wasn’t enough of a distraction from the nausea and the ache in her eyes, almost too exhausted to keep going. But she knew she would no matter how bad she really did just want to stop. Let it happen. If he wanted it this bad...shouldn’t they respect it? Stop letting him get in your head.

The walk down to the beach was a longer one than she was ready for, ice in her veins but fire licking her skin. This cove was opposite the side Medina was looking on. The coves were nice because once standing inside it, enclosed on the three sides by high bluffs, there was a clear view of the definite shore. No stretching landscapes, sand extending in both directions, ocean in the other, just the semicircle of beach. Almost completely enclosed, the only way out through the ocean. The bile rose in her throat before she could stop it and she retched into the hilly dune off to the side of the worn sand trail. “Fuck,” she muttered to nobody while licking the back of her hand to rid the acidic taste.

He wasn’t there. She could see that in the first few steps onto the soft ground. The only reason her feet kept pulling her forward was the pile of black ash that stained the creamy expanse. A beach fire, no doubt. As she grew closer she saw the emptied beer bottles haphazardly strewn about, cigarette butts lazily thrown into the edge of the circle of ash, but no Jim. It was a foolish thought that maybe there was some massive misunderstanding and he had somehow wound up down here with some of the boys. But the peeling logs that once held warmth were cold and damp from the morning dew, she reached a hand down to make sure it wasn’t warm, lit recently...a sign that maybe he was there earlier. Not alone and...just not alone.

Exhausted, she kneeled next to the blackened sand, jeans now damp, too. They had fires there. There was always a fire when they were together.

It had been a long day that extended into an even longer night. Jim still radiated heat, probably from the slight sunburn he was sporting after spending all day on the beach as she felt herself press into him to avoid the summer chill that came when the sun finally went down. A group of the usuals surrounded a small fire someone had managed to build in the center of the cove, warm oranges spreading over the dunes on onto the bluffs.

The party had lasted from sunset onward but once it hit closer to sunrise than sunset their friends started clearing out either falling over themselves or linked arms with whoever they were planning on spending the remainder of the night with. And that’s how Jim found himself half laying against one of the makeshift benches, really just washed up driftwood, Y/N comfortably tucked under his arm.

“I don’t know why you like it so much.”

“Hm?” She looked up at him, a little groggy from the booze that was starting to lose its effect. Jim liked it when she was like this, a little sleepy and vulnerable, but completely herself.

“The sunrises. You’re exhausted, let’s just go-” he started.

“No, no it’s almost up. Just relax,” she sighed and further leaned into him, preventing him from getting up even if he wanted to. She felt Jim laugh a little and drop a kiss to her hair, wild from a day of surfing and playing in the sand.

“It’s all new, you know?” she whispered, afraid to disturb the universe.

Jim nodded, but was still unsure of what she meant. ‘It’s all new’. He wasn’t a fan of new, preferring the comfort of worn in tee shirts, old cartoons, the same jacket for years now. They were familiar, something grounding. New wasn’t...good. New was moving to Palos Verdes. His mother’s new personality, his father’s new wife, his sisters abandonment. Because she really did. And he hates to blame her, but she’s the reason he became...whatever it is.

His mother was only the spark that lit the flame. Medina and her newfound obsessions and distance were the true catalyst. And his father. And maybe his mother...maybe there wasn’t even a spark. Maybe it just happened. It wasn’t a spark, it was sinking. His pockets weighed down with pills, sinking until he hit the seafloor, salt filling his lungs.

“You like new beginnings,” he stated matter of factly, a sort of revelation.

“And you don’t.” She knew him better than she let on. An innate feeling, not something she could explain or reason but she felt Jim in her soul.

“I like some new beginnings,” he said a little defensive even though he knew he had no reason to be. She could read him like a book. “I like this.” He nodded between them.

“I like this, too,” she laughed, liquor still on her breath. After a moment, Jim saw the clarity in her eyes, all traces of tipsy gone. “I really like this, Jimmy.”

His fingers cradled the back of her head, thumb rubbing small circles, and tilted her face up towards him. He didn’t like the change from the night before and sighed, the irony not lost on him. Last night the fire threw orange shadows across her cheekbones and it made her glow. A few times he caught himself glancing over at her looking like some ethereal being. She was unreal.

But at her favorite time of day, her face tilted up to the sky, up to him, a grey washed over her. She always tried to explain that it was soothing to her, the part of the day when the world was still, quiet, grey. Nothing truly existed in those precious minutes. Jim found it almost morbid. They greying landscape with fog rolling in to blanket reality. She let out a hum and Jim watched her eyes flicker shut. He had to look away.

Nothing existed at this part of the day, though. That was the one part he could get behind. Not existing.

“What do you think is gonna happen?” Jim asked, voice soft.

“What do you mean?” She shifted, eyes cracking open to meet a view of him looking out onto the waves.

“To us.” His face shifted into something of being haunted by something that hasn’t happened yet. Y/N felt her stomach clench.

“...I don’t know, Jim. Can we just...be?” she said knowing she was dancing around the topic.

She was surprised when Jim gently shook his head. “I need to know there’s something for us. I need something to hold onto.” The last part was supposed to stay in his head but the lingering effects of the alcohol made his lips loose.

“We’re…” she trailed off, thinking. It wasn’t a secret, Jim’s fear of commitment, so this was new. “We’re gonna be fine.”

“But really,” he said with a little more emphasis as he straightened his back against the driftwood. Y/N rearranged herself accordingly and sat between his legs, his chest to her back, both looking out from the cove. The grey morning was turning into a yellowed hue as the sun peeked through the clouds that decorated the open sky.

“I think we’re going in the right direction, babe.” She tilted her head back to rest on his shoulder, trying to look at him even though the angle made it impossible. He did that on purpose.

“I just want like--I just want it all. With you,” he stuttered.

She took a deep breath and Jim could feel his heart palpitate. “I do, too.”

“Like-everything. A stupid house and a dog and like I don’t know. I want to like...do taxes with you?”

A laugh passed her lips. “Taxes?”

“Yeah, taxes,” he sighed, giggling and felt his face burn. “Just like, even the stupid shit. I want that. With you.” He was raw, an exposed nerve on display for her to do with that she chose.

“I want a stupid house, too. And a stupid dog, and kids-one day. And sure, taxes,” she mused maybe a little too quiet for him to hear properly.

His eyes were still cast out onto the horizon, scanning for something it looked like.

“I mean, let’s not rush things.” She gripped his hand that was resting around her waist, completely wrapped in his embrace. “We have time.”

Jim nodded but she didn’t fail to notice the small crease in his brow, his tell for when he was overthinking. “Let’s...start with coffee.” Y/N detangled herself from the cage of Jim’s arms, missing the warmth but consoling herself with the thought of Jim inevitably smiling into the warm drink.

Jim looked up to her. The outline of her body blocking the sun that kept rising, hand extended towards him to help him up. He couldn’t help but place a small kiss to her palm before letting her help him rise. He noted the sand stuck to the jeans she was wearing and couldn’t resist playfully swatting her ass a few times as they made their way back to his car.

“Just trying to help! Can’t have you covered in sand all day,” he laughed as he went in for another tap-just missing and grazing her thigh.

Her little squeals made him smile.

It was the wrong beach, not the one he was going for, anyway. But was he going for a beach at all? Did it matter? Yeah.

He remembered there were stairs but not much else. And then it was dark and cold and the water was there. He was there? Fuck.

There were the pills shoved in his back pocket...that happened at some point. Right?

He reached into the jeans pocket and was met with emptiness. Well really fuck. It made sense, he supposed. The way his heart was going so fast he swore it was going to rip his ribcage open, his breathing was slow though and that was confusing. But the drooping eyelids and desire to just fucking lay down was all too familiar. He must have at some point because he felt some sort of grass or plant stuck in his hair.

Jim reached to tangle some of it out, his long fingers combing through knots and wincing a little at the pain that he couldn’t really feel. Probably thanks to the oxy. He found his hand sticky when he returned it back to searching through his pockets for a cigarette. It was dark and he couldn’t find his phone-did he even have it to begin with? The streetlights were just close enough to see his fingers painted red. Oh, the stairs.

He supposed it really didn’t matter anyway. Nothing did anymore. There was no recollection of what he took. The handful of pills were all different colors, sizes. They were beautiful. There were a few bumps of coke taken off his own hand. His nose still tingled and he could taste the bitter on his gums.

But there were no stairs or pills or powders or Medina or Y/N or his mom, dad, friends there anymore.

The beach? Oh yeah.

It was the wrong one. He knew that much.

He sat alone in the center of the sand, head lolling to the side.

Go closer.

“No, I don’t wanna move.”

Too bad.

“Fuck.”

He wasn’t crazy. He knew that. He just...something pulled him to the waves.

I get it, Medina.

It was a Thursday when Y/N had managed to drag Jim out of bed early enough to get out before anyone else.

“You have no classes, you have no excuse!” she sing-songed as they wandered down the path behind Jim’s house to the bay, grey waves already crashing onto the shore. He smiled at the winter waves, bigger than ever and pulling whitecaps every so often, and was secretly glad that she managed to force him out. It was that but also probably the breakfast burrito she brought. Yes, she was willing to bribe him.

He had been acting...off. Nothing to worry about, but just the stress of his thesis and some stuff with his mom had him looking just a little more tired. Typical of a college student, though. Some more coffee, a Red Bull here and there, and Y/N didn’t need to know about the lines of coke he would sneak in the bathroom between classes. Just sometimes, though.

He’d convinced her to wax his board for him while he leaned back against the rocks to have his breakfast. Watching her hands glide over the board in familiar strokes and circles was meditative for him. It was comfortable, the coconut smell of the wax mixed with the lavender of her conditioner, the waves crashing, the song she was humming without realizing it. It felt more like home than the house just up the path did.

“Jack Johnson?” he mumbled around a bite of burrito, managing to catch a piece of avocado before it fell onto his wetsuit.

She looked up from her work on the board and took a second to register that she was even humming. “Oh, yeah,” she gave a gentle laugh. “I always see the poster on your door.” She shrugged and got back to work, moving slow enough for Jim to enjoy his breakfast.

He smiled, forgetting all about that poster. “Put it up ages ago-when we first moved. Banana pancakes, huh?”

“It’s a good song!” She set the wax aside and looked over the two boards ready to be put to use.

“I’m particularly fond of banana pancakes.” He shrugged.

“Is that you saying you don’t appreciate today’s breakfast?” he voice rose playfully and she nodded at his mostly gone burrito. “Because I don’t have to do that anymore…”

“No, oh my god no!” he rushed to get the words out. “You know you’re the only reason I’m like...alive. Not eating hot pockets for every meal.”

She laughed. “I’m kidding, babe.”

“Okay,” he sighed a bit more relieved. “I don’t know how nobody has wifed you up yet. I get wake up calls, food cooked, you’re a goddamn dream.”

“Well I guess someone has to make a move, eventually.”

“You’re young...we’re young,” he murmured, methodologically folding the tin foil his breakfast was wrapped if before setting it in his bag to throw out later. The mood had shifted and Jim cursed himself. He saw the way her lips tightened and her movements more controlled as she picked herself up. Tucking her board under her arm she let out a wavering laugh, “Ready?”.

“Always,” Jim whispered breathlessly.

Walking down to the waves he was sure to drop a few kisses on her temple while thinking of how he would never be lucky enough to be the one to ask her to be his wife.

After a particularly long morning, the sun and salt became overwhelming as Jim and Y/N made their way back onto dry land. Jim’s friends had a tendency to ruin things and Jim wasn’t having it. He found himself tucked into a diner booth before they could show up to the beach, Y/N across from him, biceps wonderfully sore from paddling and still feeling the sun’s warmth in him.

It was probably a little early for burgers and fries but neither of them cared. Jim glanced across the table to where Y/N was quickly sending a text before catching him looking. “What?” Her eyes looked up to his, face still tilted to her phone.

“Oh, nothing,” he laughed. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t feel right saying how he was just mesmerized by the water that dripped off her hair to water stain the shoulders of her shirt darker. Small sand granules still stuck to her hair and skin even though they tried to get all of it off. The way her skin practically glowed under the light that spilled in from the window she was sitting next to, her eyes that looked just a little smaller without mascara on...he loved them. He loved her.

He loved her.

He did.

And sometimes it would hit him at the most random times like when she would trip over a curb, or say something that she probably shouldn’t have, or like when she was stealing fries off his plate-which she always did. And she was doing just that while scrolling through a text message as Jim looked on and just took in...everything. Because it felt mostly right. Only mostly because Palos Verdes sat looming outside. Anywhere else in the world and it would be okay. Probably.

He knew he was running from problems. That things might not be any different if he got away.

On stained napkins, Jim planned his escape route. Rough sketches of his future. Maybe theirs.

“I’m gonna get us out of here.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jimmy.” She still smiled, knowing that he would get out one day.

If it was night then why was it so fucking bright out? White. Blankness, blindness, the world still spun but he didn’t know how because he couldn’t see it, so how could he feel it? It was night- he was positive about that because the sea was black. Ink black.

Even when he was older-no longer a child, just moved to the bay, looking out into the nighttime waves sent ice down his spine. Watching the surfers bob over the swells, black turning to grey where the wave broke, his chest tightened. It was swimming in ink and dark. He bet that when you came out you were covered, dripping in the stuff, staining and tainting every inch of flesh, maybe even the insides, too. Swallow some of it or breathe it in and let it paint the inside of you black. He always wondered what monsters lived there, under the blanket of dark.

It was stupid, he knew. Sea monsters didn’t exist but it was primal. Something in his blood screaming to stay away, that something down there was going to kill him, rob him of the breaths he struggled to take in anyway. Chest always tight. Lungs covered in soot and ink. Blood crashing waves, uncontrollable, and deadly-potentially tragic, but poetic. Sparking inspiration for writers, musicians, the everyday man. They all go to the sea to cleanse the soul but they didn’t see it at night. Not the way Jim did from his window every. Single. Night. Just outside, just out of reach. Just far enough away to let him sleep, but close enough to be a threat.

But Medina dragged him down to go night surfing.

He watched it swallow him whole.

He was one of the monsters that lurked down there.

Everything returned to the sea, he knew that. His thesis. Pollution. What? He managed one steadying deep breath, tricking himself into thinking he could feel the tissue expand in his chest cavity. His hands shook. It wasn’t bright anymore.

It was dark. And night. And the waves crashed in front of him.

He wanted to run.

Jim made himself sit. Cross legged, back hunched over- Sit up straight, mom will complain- he straightened. Everything in him screamed to run, go anywhere but here. One more breath. A pause, a beat. His eyes narrowed at the black sea in front of him, staring at the white foam that broke off.

The wind picked up and he felt his hair tangle and curl in the salty air. He didn’t bother moving it. The cold ripped through his body, though. Chilled to the bone.

The lights had gone out. The streetlights? The moon? Did it matter? It was darker than before. Jim faced the ocean, mind finally blank. Numb. A breath. A beat. A clear mind. Until it wasn’t.

Chills turned into sweats, his temperature rising impossibly fast, he felt it seep from his forehead but he still shivered. He blinked the salt from his eyes-from sweat? Or...how did I move…? The ocean lay in front of Jim. Black, swirling, and breaking, growling whispers and words to him. Calling to him? Probably.

When did...my heart--? If he knew how to crack a chest-Dad knows that, he’s good at it…- he’d rip it out. Offer it on a silver platter to whoever wanted it. Nobody did, though. Anything to get it to stop. His hands shook and the waves still crashed. They didn’t stop, they wouldn’t stop.

He moved closer. Why?

I’m scared.

I know.

You have to.

...okay.

Trembling legs carried him closer to the beast. It crawled closer on its belly, an inch from his sneakers, and controlled him. The closer it came the tighter his chest, the sharper his inhale, filling him with emptiness. Exhales were good, he pretended that it was him blowing it away until the pattern shifted again, waves overlapping and nothing discernable. Even Medina didn’t like it when it was like this- tides changing. No pattern. But it was still hers, and hers alone. She was born in a cradle of brine while he was drowned by it.

He wished he knew how to swim.

But he belonged in the sky, he tried to look up but his eyes were trapped, held by the dark in front of him. There was no escape- no way out from under it. Its reach clawed at the land until it took chunks of it, winning. It tore through his skin until he was nothing but exposed and raw. Its silent demons moving amongst and within him, gifting him with every burden bestowed upon him.

Mom, dad, Medina, Y/N...me. Jim.

It’s your fault, you know.

I know.

Everything.

I know.

He knew it already even though his mind insisted on whispering every chance it got. Blinking got hard, eyes heavy. Everything heavy all of a sudden.

The weight of solitude settled on his shoulders and found a home in his belly. Not just on the wind whipped beach but everywhere. Laying in bed with Y/N he always found himself alone. Not alone-lonely.

But there is no time to be lonely when there’s a grave to dig.

The thought of her cracked him. He looked away from the monsters, hiding his eyes in his palms he felt his tears stain the cuts. How they got there, he wasn’t sure.

Tendons, ligaments, bone- all weakened, he felt something push him to his knees. It had to have been her? No. But maybe? He couldn’t be sure. That or...whatever was out there. It’s you, you dumb fuck.

Sometimes he forgot that he was one of them. Slicked black and melding into the monster itself, bobbing on the surface but knowing just how easily it could smother him, should it choose.

It crawled away in retreat when Jim’s hands fell to his mouth to muffle the scream that threatened to rip from his chest. He couldn’t let anyone hear, not when he was so close. You’re almost there. Don’t stop. Do. Not.

“I won’t, I won’t,” he whimpered, voice cracking and high. He didn’t sound like himself. Or maybe he sounded more like himself then ever. Raw. There wasn’t any more time to put on a front.

A stillness came over him when the water rushed to surround and saturate his knees, half buried in the sand-kneeling in worship or terror. He let it run over his fingers, feeling the push and pull, his inhales and exhales no longer synched. They were slow. Slower than they should be. And they hurt.

The water was almost clear when it was close enough. He saw the blood wash away off his trembling hand when the wave was sucked back in, taking a part of him with it.

His head bowed, not in reverence, he was sure. But because there was no point in holding it upright. There wasn’t a reason to look up, all the stars had gone. Snuffed out by the water that wavered in his view. He wasn’t going to make it there, anyway. He felt an ache in his chest when he realized that he wouldn’t be able to meet her at cassiopeia, as promised.

It wasn’t just a dull ache, though. He felt the way oxygen flowed in and out of him too slow, the way his heart was throbbing too fast…

He fell over, face half buried in the sand, unable to move, paralyzed as the tide rushed in, claws open and ready to claim him. He didn’t remember being able to take one last gasping breath, salt filled his lungs and light filled his mind.

For the first time, he was ready to go somewhere on his own.

He smiled. Relieved, after so much waiting.

Tag List:

@langdonsinferno @ccodyfern @starwlkers @babypinkstyles94 @1-800-bitchcraft @hailbaphomette @langdonsdemon @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonalien @katiekitty261 @aveiangdon @sojournx @oneday-i-will-fight-luke17 @americanhorrorstudies @sojournmichael @nana15774 @duncvn @gold-dragon-slayer @cocosfern @rosegoldrichie @and-shes-not-even-pretty @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @lvngdvns let me know if you want to be added! I’m making a completely new one (the complete one I have is so outdated) tell me if you’d like to be included! I’m sorry if I forgot anyone, like I said, my list is a disaster right now hah.

Thank you all for your patience and support! It’s so appreciated you have no idea.

#jim mason fanfic #jim mason x reader #jim mason #jim mason hc #topv fanfic #tribes of palos verdes #topv vertigo #michael langdon x reader #the tribes of palos verdes #ttopv

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littledemondani · 5 years ago

Text

can you...please? | jim mason x fem!reader

Warnings: sub-ish!jim, oral (male & female receiving), mild dirty talk, pwp

Word Count: 1.0 K

Request: anonymous said: “Fuck I rly need some subby Jim asking me to use him by sitting on his face”

Summary: After having an emotional day, Jim asks you to take the reigns in the bedroom.

A/N: I would’ve answered this in an ask, but, I got carried away and it became too long. hope you all enjoy it! x

“What was that babe?” you ask, surprise and shock laced through your voice.

Jim got quiet, frozen in place as he silently scolded himself for letting slip the one thing he never thought he’d ever say to you. It had been on his mind for weeks now, the idea of you taking control in the bedroom and using him as you pleased. He needed an outlet, a way to relinquish all the stress he had from keeping himself together, to not turn back to the life he used to lead.

He finally got the courage to look you in the eye, his own eyes welling with tears. He opens his mouth to speak, stuttering a bit before finally saying: “Use me...however you want just, please?”

The tone in his voice was desperate, needy, with a hint of sadness in it. You knew he was going through a lot, knew how hard it was to pull yourself out from the grip of addiction, having gone through it yourself. You nod, bringing your hand to cup the side of his face. “Okay, Jimmy. Don’t worry, I got you, babe.”

You gently push him onto his back and pull his boxers down, softly moaning as his cock springs free. You wrap your hand around it, leaning down to give a few teasing licks to the tip. He whimpers at the contact, bucking upwards on instinct as he grips tightly onto the sheets beneath him. You smirk, pressing a tender kiss to the head before kissing down the shaft to his balls. You take one into your mouth, swirling your tongue around as you gaze up at him through heavy lids. Jim whimpers, flicking his eyes downward as you start lazily stroking him.

“Mm, shit..” Jim breathes, rutting against your hand. “Baby..” his head tips back against the pillow, soft groans leaving his lips as you rub your thumb across the head of his cock. You pull off his balls with a pop, licking back up his shaft.

“Your cock is so fucking perfect, Jimmy,” you say, letting spit dribble out onto his cock. “So thick, heavy, veiny..” You take him into your mouth, moaning around him. You bob your head a few times, getting him nice and hard before pulling back.

He whines at the loss, snapping his head up to get a look at what you’re doing. You slide your panties down your legs, flinging them off to the side. You climb up his body, pressing open mouth kisses up his abdomen to his chest before pressing your lips to his. You kiss him sloppily, tangling your hand in his hair. “Tell me what you want,” you breathe, swiping your tongue along Jim's bottom lip. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Use me as your own personal fuck toy. Please…,” Jim pleads, gazing at you with so much need behind his eyes. “Ride my face, baby…”

You smirk, positioning yourself over Jim's face, your knees on either side of his head. “If that’s what my baby wants, then that’s exactly what he’s gonna get.” You place your hands on the headboard as you lower yourself onto Jim's face, moaning hotly as he swipes his tongue along your folds.

Jim puts his hands on your hips, pulling you even closer to him. He licks over your outer lips, eyes fluttering as your taste floods his mouth. He brings two fingers to your lips, spreading you open and continuing to run his tongue over you. You slowly start rocking your hips, sighing happily at the pleasurable feeling. “Jimmy..that feels so good.”

He whimpers, flicking his gaze up at you. He circles his tongue over your clit, relishing in the way your face scrunches in pleasure. He repeats the action a few more times before running his tongue back down your cunt to your entrance, dipping his tongue inside of you. You pick up speed a little, angling your hips so his nose brushes against your clit with each movement you make.

“Oh god..fuck,” you moan, your head dropping down to get a good look at Jim. You hold his gaze, biting down on your bottom lip as you continue grinding against him. “You like this? You like it when I grind my pussy on your face?”

He nods eagerly, groaning against your cunt. He begins working his mouth feverishly, eyes rolling as you grind even harder. “Suck on my clit,” you demand softly. “Go on, Jimmy.”

Jim immediately takes your clit into his mouth, sucking gingerly on the swollen nub. You move your hands from the headboard to just above his knees, moaning loudly as you swivel your hips. “That’s it..” you breathe. “Fuck, you’re being such a good boy sucking on my clit like that.” You reach for his cock, stroking him at a steady pace.

He bucks up against your hand, increasing the speed of his suctions. He grips onto your hips tightly, almost hard enough to leave small bruises. You toss your head back as your orgasm nears, grinding your pussy even faster. “I’m close, Jim. So fucking close.” You let go of his cock, bringing your hand to your mouth and licking your palm, wrapping your back around him. “Do you wanna cum too, Jimmy? I can feel you throbbing like you want to.”

He moans, thrusting upwards in response. You giggle breathlessly, pumping him at the same speed of your grinding. “You’re gonna have to wait until after I cum, can you do that?”

Jim nods, eyes closing as he focuses on bringing you to your climax. It doesn’t take much longer before your orgasm rocks through you, screaming his name as you gush all over his mouth and chin. You let go of his cock, grabbing hold of the headboard as you continue grinding your cunt against him, wanting to draw out your orgasm as much as possible.

Once you’ve come down from your high you remove yourself from his face, chuckling breathlessly. “That was...so good.”

Jim looks up at you with glassy eyes, giving you a small smile. “Thank you..for that.”

You smile in return, leaning down to kiss him softly. “Don’t thank me just yet,” you say, winking at him as you settle between his legs. “I do believe I said you could cum after I did.”

tagging a few: @fckinsupreme, @wroteclassicaly, @angel-langdon, @my-thoughts-and-prayers, @lovelylangdonx, @leatherduncan, @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern, @sojournmichael, @jims-wave, @lvngdvns, @littlegirlsdontplaynice, @fleursirvart, @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc, @melodylangdon, @lonelyhheartsclubb, @lonely-cloud, @dark-mei-rose

#jim mason #jim mason x reader #jim mason imagine #jim mason smut #jim mason fanfic #jim mason one-shot #ttopv #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd x reader #xavier plympton #xavier plympton x reader

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gremlinkween · 5 years ago

Text

Bad Moon Rising

Part 2: Mermen, Vampires, and Werewovles, Oh My!

Summary: The reader finds and rescues a hurt merman who tells her that his name is Jim. She helps him without a second thought, but his presence might attract the attention of other supernatural creatures she never knew existed. This will eventually be a foursome (Jim Mason x Michael Langdon x Duncan Shepard x Reader) mythology/supernatural au.

A/N: I'm not dead! Instead of just saying that I was gonna do something, I figured my welcome back post would be the next revised chapter of BMR as an apology. I had some repressed memories come up and they were repressed for a reason so that rocked my boat real hard, but hi everyone! I'll get to the asks sitting in the inbox hopefully tonight, but it might have to be tomorrow. So for the new readers, the last one of the foursome is introduced, but we’ll get to actually see more of Michael and Duncan in the next part. There is an oc in here, Rory, that we’ll see more later. I’ve had him for awhile and he’s actually one of my fave characters ever. You can totally imagine Cillian Murphy for him. Again, if you want to be on the tag list, just hit me up and let me know what you think!

Warnings: No smut yet, sorry. There is blood, injury, mentions of mental illness, depression, crying, concern about having a total break from reality.

Word Count: 2.3k

Tagging List: @langdonsinferno, and @moonagecordelia and remember, my tag list is all sorts of messed up so please lmk if you want to be on it! either for this story or all my work!

Previous Parts: Part 1

“I thought that vampires fed off of humans? Why did he go for you instead of me?”

“Well, yeah, vampires feed off of humans, but that’s not their only food source. Faerie blood is actually more nutritious and flavorful for vampires, just humans are more readily available and easier to hunt. He probably smelt my blood and sought me out.”

“… Wow, I mean makes sense, I guess?” It really didn’t, nothing made sense to her, but also Jim could tell her that the sky was actually purple and the ocean was orange, and she’d believe him at this point.

“You should probably take care of him.”

“Yeah, probably. Do I need something stronger than rope.”

He scoffed, “Yes, probably something more like a stake through the heart.”

She looked to the darkly angelic figure passed out on the floor. He looked helpless now, and she could see that the wounds that were on the cat adorned and tarnished his skin. He was hurt, and probably just looking for a way to heal himself. She felt bad, but on the other hand, Jim was in danger. So was she. This was fucked up. “No.”

Jim gave her a look like she might be insane.

“I said no. He’s just trying to survive like you. I’ll get like, chains or something. That should hold him?”

Jim looked at her with such bewilderment, she felt like she was the weird one in the room. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s probably going to end badly.”

She was still looking at the vampire. Probably, she was thinking, but that’s not what she said. “I think it’s going to be fine.”

“…. Okay, if you say so.” Jim was still so unsure of this. “Just move him please.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

—————————

Moving the vampire that was nearly double her size wasn’t an easy feat, but she did it. Thank god for the hauls of fish she’s been lugging around her whole life or this might actually be impossible. She had him propped up against the support beam in the living room. That was the sturdiest place in her house she could think of, but you knew you needed to move fast. There was no telling how much time you had before he woke up, and she couldn’t imagine he’d be happy when he did. Now, the next problem was finding chains and a lock that was probably heavy duty enough. She figured the boatyard, but she’d really have to move her ass.

She grabbed the keys to her dad’s old beat up pick up truck and a jacket and hurried out the door. She was humming to herself in a tense song, a habit she did out of nervousness, and fumbled with the keys.

“Hi there, Y/N, a little la-” a familiar voice called, but with the night’s events, she was already under so much pressure, and she yelped and nearly threw the keys. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Hi, Rory. Sorry, it’s been a night.” Oh Rory, the older Irish gentleman that ran the dock’s favorite bar to go to in the evening, and her next door neighbor. She had known him her whole life, a steady constant in this crazy shit show her life had been these past couple of months. She really wasn't alarmed with him being out so late. With his business, he always had been a night owl.

“I can see that,” his thick accent rang out with a chuckle, and she blanched for a second. “Dragging in buckets of sea water?”

“It’s an art project,” She answered maybe a little too fast and he cocked an eyebrow. “You know, for processing trauma. I read about it.”

“Okay then, Y/N,” he was unsure, but he was going to drop it. He knew grief made people do some strange things sometimes.

“I’m going out for more things.” She didn’t know when to stop talking apparently.

“Well, good luck with that at 3 am. Just be careful,” he wished her well, “It’s a full moon, all the crazies are out tonight.”

She just chuckled uneasily, if she could only tell him. “Will do, you get some rest.”

“You too, dear.”

She was finally able to get the truck open and started, and she sped off to the boatyard.

————————————

The yard was desolate and particularly eerily this night. Mist from the water was creeping over the place and gave it an all too fitting gothic appearance. She really wished that the world would stop being so poetic for a change. She found herself pulling her jacket tighter as she walked in between the older and busted up boats, something making the hair on the back of her neck stand up on end. A presence was following her, but she was all too tired of the night's weirdness to give into the thought. Surely, tonight couldn't get weirder.

She had to kick the door down to the supply shed, but she doubted anyone would really care. This was the forgotten side of town anyway. She found heavy duty chains and a padlock fairly quickly, a feeling of satisfaction filled her that was quickly overshadowed by something else. Her head whipped up to the door and then to the window. She saw nothing, but she swore she felt eyes on her. Very intent eyes. God damn it. At this point, she was just hoping for another human.

The best thing to do was just get the hell out of there regardless, she decided, and without actually breaking into a run, she moved as fast as she could.

Outside, she swore she hear footsteps of something. It was much too big to be a person, but she didn’t know what it could be. Could be anything. She didn't know, and she was getting tired of this one night getting so fucking weird. There was an idea trying to creep into her mind, one that she was trying to violently shut out. She actually might just give up if she was right.

There was a movement and then a soft growl. She blanched again, but sighed. Of course. No, of course this would be the night that even more insane shit has to happen. She turned to the boat she saw the movement coming from and her eyes widened, yet she was somehow not surprised. A giant wolf monster sat perched up on the cabin and she nodded. “Sure. Yep. This might as well happen. Let’s just get this over with.”

It glowered at her as it crept down and off the boat, but in the bright moonlight, she saw the deep wounds ruining the lay of the coat. It growled again and began to stand on this back legs, standing at it’s full eight foot height, but she held dropped the chains and held up her hands. “Don’t even think about it, buddy,” she said firmly and the wolf’s ears pitched forward, clearly curious about the lack of fear.

“I’ve got a hurt merman and a vampire I need to restrain soon or he’s going to try to eat the merman at home. I see that you’re hurt. I can take care of you, but I need you to stop being a dick.”

It looked like it was debating something it’s head before settling down on all fours and cautiously moved towards her before gently nuzzling into her neck, smelling and licking her, she figured that this was some kind of greeting that werewolves had, but he was being friendly, but she just rolled with it. It was that kind of night that was already weird enough. She scratched behind it’s ears and it practically mewled and she had to smile, that was pretty cute.

“Come on, let’s go. I have to get back before the vampire wakes up.”

He limped along with her, and she had to help the poor thing up into the bed of the truck, but he was behaving quite well. She covered him up, with one of the tarps she used for the fish, and hopped in. Hopefully, she wasn’t too late, and she felt worry pit itself in her stomach.

———————————————–

She had to make sure the lights on in Rory’s house were off before she uncovered the newest friend and boy from her truck and hurried him into the house.

The first thing she did was check to make sure that the vampire was still out and passed out where she left him. Thankfully, he was, and she was able to breathe a sigh of relief. She went back to the kitchen as the werewolf began sniffing around. “Go upstairs, it’s the room with the lights on.”

The wolf looked at her uneasily, but he relented and sulked up the stairs on all fours, looking over its’ shoulders at her.

She grabbed the chains and quickly secured the vampire to the post. There was a moment that nearly had her passing out, his nose flared a couple of times when she got closer, but luckily that was his only response to her.

She didn’t waste anymore time though, grabbed the medical box for the third time tonight, and she was running up the stairs. Once she reached the top of the stairs, she saw the large furry head pop out of the doorway. It was odd to have such a large creature in her house, but she didn’t think about that just yet. She sat the box down on the desk and she heard it growl softly.

“Come on, I know this is going to hurt a little bit, but,” the wolf cut her off with another, more aggressive growl.

“Uhhh, Y/N,” Jim called from the bathroom. “What was that?”

She turned around and went to the door. “I might have made another new friend tonight.” The wolf’s head popped into sight from the door to look at where the other voice came from out of curiosity, and Jim went white.

“That’s an alpha werewolf.”

She grunted as he pushed his way into the bathroom and began smelling and licking at Jim’s neck like he had done with her, and Jim couldn’t help the giggles that escaped his mouth and it only encouraged the wolf to tickle him more, but he eventually pushed him off gently.

Jim smiled shyly at the wolf before looking to her again. “Why was he growling at you?”

“I was just getting ready to stitch up his wounds.”

The monstrous animal’s ears pinned back at the word and Jim swatted his muzzle, startling the wolf.

“Be nice. She doesn’t know anything and you can’t talk in that form,” Jim chided with a small smile.

“You don’t need to rub it in!” She was almost defensive, but Jim was laughing.

“Werewolves don’t need stitches, particularly alphas. He’ll be fine by tomorrow night, you won’t even know that he was hurt.”

She nodded, but then stopped. “Why did he come with me then? If he didn’t need help.”

Jim’s eyes were practically shining with mischief. “He probably thinks you’re cute.”

She was bright red now and she looked at the clear amusement both of them had.

“Or he had other reasons, I’m just,” He had to think about it. He wasn’t sure about the human word for this. “Having my fun?” He had a little shy smile, and while she was scowling, her heart melted a bit at the expression.

“I didn’t realize I was opening my door to such jokesters,” but even she had to laugh.

She let out a yawn, and she realized how tired she was out. It hit like a freight train now that she didn't have a murderous vampire on the loose and she no longer had to play doctor. “Well, I think I’m going to be retiring for the night. Jim would you like a pillow or something?”

He cocked he eyebrow. Right, that makes sense that they wouldn’t have them in the ocean.

“I’ll go get one for you away.”

The wolf followed her out of the bathroom and crawled up on the bed for no regard to his weight as he circled like any dog would before settling down on the bed. She grabbed one of the extra pillows and returned to stuff it in the corner between the wall and the bathtub and Jim hesitantly rested his head against it before his eyes lit up.

“This is very comfortable. What did you call this?”

She chuckled, “A pillow. Goodnight, Jim.”

He smiled, “Goodnight, Y/N. Thank you. again.”

“It’s no problem.” With that, she left again for the bedroom.

She looked at the wolf, seemingly asleep, and she decided what the hell. She took her bra off and her pants, leaving herself in just a shirt and underwear. She crawled into bed under the blankets and tried to get comfortable, but sleep wasn’t coming to her at all. She was just replaying the events of the night.

So, at the beginning of the night, it was crippling loneliness and a solid crying session, then late night sailing on the boat …. Then she saved a merman …. Then they got attacked by a vampire ….. and then she picked up a werewolf ….. and now there’s a merman in her bathtub, a vampire chained up in the living room, and a werewolf in bed with her. She sighed. This was…. weird. This was a weird night. This couldn’t have happened, could it? This stuff was made up. Oh god, she was having a mental breakdown. She was breaking and this wasn’t real. None of this was real.

She was starting to hyperventilate, panic gripping her, but then she felt a warm head, a very warm, very large, and very fluffy head nuzzle into her chest. A strong, furry arm ending in a hand with extremely long and sturdy claws wrapped around her abdomen and pulled her tight. An animal’s tongue licked her cheek and she had to laugh at how much it tickled. She heard the wolf make a noise deep within its throat in approval and she relaxed. This was real. It was very very real and she had the feeling that this wolf wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

Sleep soon took over, and for the first time in what felt like years, there was a smile on her face.

#cody fern fanfic #cody fern fanficiton #michael langdon imagine #duncan shepherd fanfic #jim mason fanfic #Bad Moon Rising

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