synthneon | oceanview || ❝ i must guide my love through the night. ❞

oceanview || ❝ i must guide my love through the night. ❞

OCEANVIEW II

into the dark, dark, dark.

I’m fighting to save my love somеhow
I cannot feel her by my side
Even in this placе inside my mind CODE BY TESSISAMESS

[ Her gaze softens at his realization. Not that it has ruined the mood, or that she pitties him. No, she's just sorry all of this has happened to him. That she can't fix it. All the paranormal powers she possesses and none can seem to help him with his struggles.

Combat and fighting the Dark Presence? Yeah, sure. That's what she does as Director. It won't bring back memories or parts of him that he's lost. Being the Director can't undo what the Dark Presence has done--maybe just keep it from getting worse.

« What do I do to really help? Does this help? It feels like it's not enough. There's more I need to do. There should be more I can do. This can't be all of it. » ]

Probably best to start with a little bit of everything then. [ She gives him a small smile regardless of her worries. ] Starting with breakfast though. I'm not going to have a dinner date where you can't eat and enjoy it with me.

[ She laughs a little. ] Why would I need it more?

[ She'd be fine with that wish being granted. With each shift she can feel her own arousal growing and that need to pull off her own tank top for him to do as he wants. She just doesn't want to move too fast. Or, move in a way that would be jarring and make him back out at the last moment. This isn't walking on eggshells, but she does feel it's something delicate. Special.

Despite how that part of her that wants to latch onto that spark in him pushes her to just go.

Her head tilts to the side at the feeling of his fingers against her skin. Almost like a mini explosion that sets off, her body seems to remember how he moves along her. Her hand between them traces over him before his name makes it out of her again, lips moving against his mouth. He could ask her to do anything, move her any way, and she'd do it. ]

[ How do you fight the Dark Presence? Unless it's manifesting itself as Scratch, it's not something you can shoot at or throw things at. It's not like a flashlight is enough to burn it away. It's too big for that.

The questions arise in Alan's mind, unwittingly echoing Jesse's own thoughts. He wants to let her help, as the realization has slowly been settling in that this is a fight he can't finish on his own. It's not even something he wants to finish on his own. He's been more or less on his own all along, and even though it hasn't fully registered in his mind, he's growing tired of this solitary road he's been traveling on for who knows how long now. ]

Well, I can't make any promises, but I'll try, at least. [ Except the idea of forcing himself isn't really an attractive one. But maybe if he just starts small and works up from that. It's what she's asking him to do, after all. ]

You had a long fight, and you got knocked out. I'd say that more than earns you a long rest, if we had the time, and all the cups of coffee the diner has.

[ His lips turn up into a sort of smirk at that thought. ] If time wasn't against us, I'd even offer to wash dishes as some kind of payment for the coffee. Since I don't have money on me, you know.

[ Feeling emboldened by her response to his touch, he widens the area he's exploring with his fingers, tracing light patterns against her skin while feeling small explosions of his own as she whispers his name against his mouth.

He wants to be touched by her just as much as he wants to keep touching her, letting his fingers explore the sensitive skin beneath the tank top she's wearing. Even as his fingers trace against her side, feeling along her rib cage, he knows that he wants more. He wants all barriers between them to come down for good, as they've done before, so that nothing lies between them. So that they're one.

But even as he continues his touches, a doubt surfaces in the back of his mind. Does she want what he wants? Is he moving too quickly? Maybe she doesn't want to be one with him, even in a hypothetical sense. He briefly halts his touches, raising his eyes to meet hers, searching them for an answer to his unspoken questions. ]

[ They'll figure something out. They always do. Their resources are limited here, but, Jesse feels the field agents have what equipment they need. They need to utilize it.

Maybe they can trap it in something then shove it back in the Lake. Find a way to close the threshold. Keep it trapped in the Dark Place. It could work... they just need to locate it.

Jesse rolls her eyes again and let's the smile on her face widen. ] Really? You were there fighting too, and took a hit to the ribs. I'd say that's earned you something too.

You really don't strike me as the kind of guy who likes washing dishes. Even at home. [ Her face turns into a slightly playful expression as she pretends to think about it. A minor shake of her head follows so she doesn't feel like she threw herself back into dizzy town. ] Nope. I'm not seeing it.

[ She knows exactly what she wants. Her mind is more on logistics of making it happen with the least amount of additional injury to them. They need to be ready when the sun does set... but that's still hours away. And, Alan is with her now. Which makes it a higher priority in her mind at this very moment.

Fingers trace along her ribs and she shudders in his arms. The hand between then slides back to his lower back beneath the waistline of the sweats. Her hips shift up slightly so that when he rocks again, they meet each other dpesite the clothing in the way. That time she moans, loudly for her, head tilting back to expose her neck and collarbone.

Yes, she wants to be one with him. She's given control up for him--to him. Not just here in a bed in some random motel in Bright Falls, but for them in the story. Wherever it is he goes to write it. She's given him the reigns for it. Trusted him with her. There's not much more she can give someone. ]

Alan... [ This time she vocalize his voice. Not too loud, as it seems Jesse is just one to be quieter.

It takes effort to open her eyes and meet his. She feels the gaze on her. Her darkened green eyes meet his and her heart stops. A small gasp makes this way out when they rock together. She isn't sure how to communicate how badly she wants this--him. All she can think to do is let herself melt entirely in his arms and let her eyes darken more and glaze over.

So, she does just that. Giving that tightly wound control she always has over to him. ]

[ Maybe Alan's skeptical nature is showing itself again, but he is not nearly as confident that they will figure something out. But then again, the FBC is in the business of containing things. Maybe he should have more confidence in Jesse and her people. ]

I'm the one who caused all this, remember? You wouldn't be here having to worry about what happens when the sun goes down if it wasn't for me. Bright Falls would be just a normal small town with people going about their normal every day lives if it wasn't for me.

[ He shakes his head. ] I'm not saying this because I want you to tell me it's not true. I don't need reassurance. [ It would be lies, anyway. Maybe not from her, but from other people. ]

You're right, I hate washing dishes. But I'd do it for you.

[ As Jesse moves, sliding her hand to his lower back and shifts her hips against his, Alan feels like he's floating in a state of ecstasy. Her touch has that effect on him. And when her head tilts back, exposing her neck and collarbone, his own movement is instant but slow because his injured side continues to protest even when he's not moving quickly.

It takes some angling, given their respective positions, but he manages to brush his lips against her neck and traveling down to her collarbone where he plants more kisses, dotting them against the skin there.

When he's forced to come up for air, he breathlessly says her name, and it sounds like more of a question than a statement. ] Jesse?

[ Gray eyes remain locked on her green ones, but there's a haze of desire misting over them as he takes in her appearance, making note of even the smallest of details of her face. ]

[ It's not only the ability to contain things. Jesse spent most of her life looking for her baby brother. While it was far from the reunion she dreamed and hoped for? It was still a reunion. They found each other. Now she is in a place where she will be there when--and if--he ever wakes up. If that can happen? Alan can edit the story, change the ending, and bring home a happy ending.

Even if she's the only one who believes it.

« I'm used to being the only one who believes in something as true and real. » ]

No, Alan. [ Her tone is suddenly hard, gaze laser focused. ] The Dark Presence has been here longer than any of us. This is the place it's claimed as home. Bright Falls is like Ordinary. It would never be normal.

The Dark Presence used people before you. It'll try to use someone else. You aren't the only person who has caused reality changing bullshit to happen here. Okay? If it hadn't used you to start with, none of it would happen. Everything of this is a consequence of that interaction.

Maybe you could have done something better, smarter, but that's hindsight. You did what you did and now it's time to fix the now instead of bemoaning what you did. I've been there. I know what it's like. All you can do is move forward and make the changes now to make up for it.

[ She knows this feeling. How he kisses her neck and down, the hair of his beard brushing along her skin. Another soft moan escapes as she shudders in his hold. Gods she's missed this. Missed him; missed how he can make her feel with just a few motions.

A hand lifts to his face. Tips of her fingers brush over his beard, then his lips, as he raises his head and says her name. Darkened hazed green eyes meet his in a returned question, unable to really proper answer hum with words. Her read hair is fanned over the pillow under her.

« Why did he stop? » ]

[ Maybe that's a side effect of being a crime writer. Maybe he never believed in the happy ending as a construct or concept. Maybe his view of the world is a hard one, with no room for happy endings. Trouble always comes, and it's rarely resolved to anyone's satisfaction. Anyone on the side of good, that is.

Maybe that's why it's so hard for Alan to believe that his own story could end happily. ]

Has it? Has it really? I know there's history here, that things happened long before Alice and I even thought about this place, but has the Dark Presence really been here that long? Predating all of us?

[ He can't help but sound incredulous. For some reason, he hadn't thought of it like that. Of course, he's not stupid enough to think that his arrival here coincided with the Dark Presence making itself known for the first time. But for reasons he barely understands, he hadn't thought of it in such terms as the ones Jesse's just laid out for him. ]

But... No, whatever the case is, you're right. We'll stop it. I'll stop it. Somehow. I don't know how, or what I'll do, because- [ The words are gone. ] I don't have a choice.

[ He's made his choice, and that's to keep writing. To keep trying to make the ending work.

What was I going to ask her? Why did I say her name? ]

If.. if things were different. If you hadn't been dragged into this story- and don't say that you would have been involved anyway. If it was just you and me, no Director, no crazy story, just the two of us, living some kind of life... maybe together, maybe apart, but coming together... would you want that?

[ Would she want that old-fashioned house with the front porch and picket fence and little kids running around? Her kids? Ours? I don't know if she really would. But maybe we could be together somehow. In another life. Another reality, maybe.

His hand reaches out then to touch her face in return as his musings turn themselves around in his mind. ]

[ How he is may have shaped the genre he writes. Crime thrillers with noir takes and no happy endings could just be because he isn't sure how happy endings work. She knows he grew up with just his mother, as investigators and paparazzi seemed to always make that point in articles.

She doesn't want to project, but, maybe part of him has always felt abandoned. Thrown away. She knows that's how she felt as a child--why it was always her and Dylan. Mom and Dad always worked or were involved with social things. Not that they were unloving... just distant. So much so that when they finally stepped in with what was happening in Ordinary? She was so angry with them. They never listened, they never seemed to care, until everything went to shit.

« It still might be my fault they disappeared. Why not? Dylan and the Slide Projector were taken by the Buearu because I ran away. Because I was scared. Maybe they were taken because I was so angry. You didn't do it, Hedron didn't... but the Not-Mother may have. » ]

I don't know how long it's been here. But, I could feel that this... [ She frowns, how can she explain it? ] Cleansing something is like feeling one energy be torn off and Polaris's replacing it. Trying to cleanse just those two points felt like peeling layers away. It's been here a long time; taking parts of people and the area of Bright Falls.

And... I heard it. Talking in this voice of an old woman? Like a recording over the Hotline. She said that she'd find someone "to dream me free." Even if it wasn't you, I think it would of found another artist or author. You're a parautalitarian, and that's probably why everything happens here so strongly. It's using your powers to change everything else.

[ She smiles at his resolution. It's shaky, but, it's one nonetheless. Alan Wake deciding something and not any other influence. Her heart pounds in her chest.

She really has it bad for him.

His questions feel like a complete one hundred and eight turn from their current positions. Jesse feels almost a mental whiplash having to move from letting everything go to being in the moment to needing to focus on a conversation. The adrenaline is still pumping through her body, the need and hunger for him to keep going to be bare is loud and demanding.

« He wouldn't have asked if it's no important. »

It takes a monumental effort to move forward. Not to rock against him, but to push herself up to be sitting again. Her body shakes from not just the exhaustion of her psychic injury, but, from that need for him intimately. She sits up, one hand guiding him to do the same.

Jesse shifts into his lap then. Her hips sitting against his, hands on either side of his face. Her breathing is heavy from their activities, but also due to feeling like she's still swimming in mud. The pounding in her head increases, and she can't ignore it as well while sitting up.

Her forehead touches his as thr afternoon rays come through the window and touch her hair. They hit it just right to seem as if her hair is glowing.

Lips brush against his briefly. The questions are important. She needs to answer him. ]

I ... I can't see myself not being weird somehow. Maybe something else makes me weird not matter what. Not with Polaris, but maybe acquaintances... situations... [ Her eyes flick down to his mouth before returning to his gray ones. ] I would want it. I would want a life with you. I want one.

[ Jesse glances down at his lips again before brushing a teasing kiss there. Her hips rock into his again. Darkened eyes raise to his dark gray ones and she shivers against him. ]

Would you want me? If you were normal, and there was no crazy story, and I was still ... at least a little weird. No powers. Just, weird. Would that be okay?

[ Hands turn from his shoulders to other things. His hair. Fingers trialing down he back of his neck, down his shoulder, arm, settling on tracing patterns at his elbow. Her hips continue to rock against his, their foreheads together help not focus on the pounding in his head. ]

[ Maybe art does imitate life. Or life imitates art. Or both. But maybe the truth of it all is that Alan never really believed in a happy ending. Who knows how things would have gone with him and Alice if they'd never encountered the horrors of the Dark Place? He can't see how any of that would have ended. Would he have gotten past his writer's block and things would have settled down between them? That's something he doesn't have the answer to, and he probably never will.

Jesse's thoughts about Alan's own feelings relating to his family aren't too far from the mark. He's just never really spent much time thinking about them, because there are some paths he just doesn't want to go down. Maybe it's easier to not think about the difficult things from the past. Or maybe it's not easier at all, when the present comes with its own share of difficulties.

But Alan knows he's going to get nowhere thinking about things that ultimately have no chance of resolution. Instead, he focuses on Jesse's words, trying to take them in and learn from them, because there's so much about what's really going on that he barely understands. ]

So... so this didn't start when I came here. It was always something lurking beneath the surface, in the lake, the people... [ Maybe he had had some idea of that before, but it hadn't really registered or sunk in. Maybe he'd been dragged in long before he ever thought about diving into the waters of Cauldron Lake. Did it all start with the cabin that shouldn't have been there? Maybe.

Alan shakes his head. He doesn't like the knowledge that someone else could have potentially been pulled into this mess. It's bad enough that he got caught up in all of it, but nothing about this is anything anyone deserves. ]

I wish there was a way to get rid of it completely, so no one else gets pulled in without realizing what's going on. If all of this comes from this place, originating from the lake... [ What? Drain the lake? Would that make it worse? I don't know how to stop this. Jesse and the FBC might, but maybe they don't know either. Does anyone really know how to deal with this?

He almost didn't ask the question that's been on his mind. He just wanted to have this moment with Jesse, to just let go of everything that's not the two of them. But it seems that his mind just doesn't know when to shut up. She pushes herself into a sitting position, and he's quick to put his arms around her to offer more support.

He's too aware of her: of her hips resting against his, of her hands on his face. The way she breathes. How the sun hits her hair and almost makes it glow. She's beautiful. He knows that, and he's reminded of it almost all the time. ]

I don't think you're weird. The rest of the world might, but who needs them? When it's just the two of us, can't it just be us? [ And if the world labels them both weird, then, well... that's just how it is. Alan knows he's not like everyone else either. Maybe even before all of this started, he was just a step out of touch with the world and with people.

Maybe the Dark Presence just widened that gap and made the separation bigger. ]

Yeah. Yeah, I'd want you. I can't imagine anything else. [ A part of me doesn't want anything else. I wish that we could just have that normal life. Maybe we can, but it'll have to be normal on our terms. We decide how that looks, how it works for us. Yeah, I like that idea. ]

That would be more than okay.

[ Shivers form at the base of his spine and travel upwards as she touches him. All she has to do is touch him anywhere, and he becomes little better than putty in her hands to do with what she wants. And he doesn't mind that. He doesn't resist.

He wants to return the favor; he wants to let his hands travel anywhere they can reach. He wants to pull off both of their clothes so nothing is between them. So far, he's tried to resist that building urge, but it's growing harder to do with how she's touching him.

Slowly, almost like he's testing something, he reaches for the strap of her tank top and slides it down over her shoulder. If she encourages the action, he might go farther, but he waits to see what she does next. ]

[ She shakes her head by just a hair and immediately regrets the motion. Her hands curl slightly at the tinge of pain that travels through her. ] The Buearu documented the AWEs with the Old Gods of Asgard, and Zane. There's local legends too--that go back further than the people who settled Bright Falls. It's not just you, Alan. It's been going on much longer. I just don't know how much longer.

We'd have to somehow permanently close the Threshold. But, that doesn't mean it wouldn't open up somewhere else. We just don't know enough. We have a research facility, the Lake House. But it's gone... [ a look of annoyance crosses her face. She doesn't want to say dark because of the circumstances. Everything is going dark. ] It's out of contact with even Estevez, and has been for a while. I found documents reaching back from 2017 about it... that's the other reason I came here with Steve. But, the AWE is a bit more of a priority.

[ The corners of her mouth pull in a semi-amused way. Alan would say it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. She'd think it too, if she didn't know deep down how weird she is. Even in the Bureau she's the weird one. No other Director can do what she's been able to do. She's unique out of the unique ones and sometimes that's even more alienating than the normal world. ]

Yeah, we can be just us. [ « Well, you know, three, I guess. It's not like I can ever really block you out now. Maybe he won't notice it. » ] With all our weirdness being our normal.

[ The tugging smile becomes a real one when he says he'd want her no matter the circumstances. Something inside her reacts to it--something that belongs to Jesse and not Polaris or their shared relationship. She never thought she'd be wanted for herself ... and it's oddly touching. Touching in a way she can't describe.

He slips the strap off her shoulder. Her forehead presses to his, demanding he look at her. How does she have to put it for him to understand she wants him? Not just intimately, but emotionally. Sharing a life with him. Her words aren't clear enough and he doesn't seem to understand her language of moving either.

Her head tilts back--which she also regrets--with a purpose in mind. She moves her hands off him in order to pull her tank top off and tossing it somewhere behind her. She's still in her bra and pants, which is oddly reminiscent of something else. Her attention doesn't stay on it though. Lips press against his for another kiss, but slow and methodical, teasing and also inviting. ]

[ Alan's expression darkens then as every dark thought he's had comes back to the forefront of his mind in response to Jesse's words. ]

If it's been going on for that long, from even before Bright Falls was even on my radar, then why does everything feel like it's my fault? I don't mean that to sound like I'm making it all about me, that I'm being self-absorbed. All this horror, all these problems, they started with me. The problems that are happening now. Those are my fault.

[ He shakes his head, and although it makes his head hurt, he knows it's nothing like what Jesse's dealing with. ]

So asking you how to do that is pointless. [ What does it take to close a threshold? How do I close this one for good? This has to end; it needs to end permanently, so no one else dies or gets hurt. I know this is my fault. I'm done pretending. Was I ever pretending? I don't think so, but I'm sure some people out there think I'm dodging accepting responsibility. I'm not. I won't. ]

Good. That's what I want, more than anything. [ But to get what I want, I have to solve this. But how?

Maybe his hesitation makes no sense. Jesse's all but handing permission over to him on a silver platter, and still he hesitates. He wants her. She wants him. But he's hesitant. Scared, even. Why? Of what?

She's pulling off her tank top then, and kissing him slowly in a way that drives his senses insane. Not the kind of insanity of the Dark Place, but the kind that turns the dial up to 11. Desire, passion, longing- these are all things Alan feels. He wants to give into them and stop holding back.

This time, he rocks against her again; hard, but not uncomfortably so. There's force behind his movements, but he's doing his best to not be harsh. Maybe force isn't the right word. Speed? Urgency? He wants to feel her; he wants to take her to that place of ecstasy that takes some effort to reach. Or maybe it's really effortless in the end. Either way, it's worth it. ]

[ The look in her eyes softens. ] Because it's used you twice to get out, hasn't it? Made you write a story to set it free twice. It's used you, your power, your mind to do it. You are going to feel responsible. [ Her gaze flicks down and her eyebrows knit together. ] Ordinary was my fault. They used the projector how they wanted... but... the Buearu got the Slide Projector because of me. Dylan was taken because of me. The Hiss got to Trench because I led them to the Slide Projector. They found Hedron because I couldn't burn the slide that took me to where I met Hedron.

It doesn't matter if I was a kid. If I hadn't shown them it, the Hiss wouldn't have come through. [ Her forehead presses to his and she rocks against him again. ] Our screw ups have cost a lot of people. All we can do is try to make it better and fix it. Help avoid it in the future.

I never said it was pointless, Alan. Thresholds manifest by dimensions coming in contact with ours. Closing them is usually by stopping something at the source. The story this time. But, how do you keep an artist in the future from coming to the Lake? How do we break the connection to the Lake and the Dark Place? Maybe the Lake House team knows.

[ « What if none of that made any sense? Does he remember anything from the Motel, now that he's out? Does he remember anything I said about Ordinary? Is it better if he doesn't remember it? »

She nods again. Everything in her tells her to go, to move, to be his. But, everytime she moves her head she feels a spike of pain through her whole body and the pounding gets worse. She doesn't want to stop though. She wants be with Alan again. How long has it been...? ]

Then, let's do it. [ Her breathing deepens. ] I gave you the key, didn't I? The apartment is yours now too. I'll set up that extra room as a den--you can write or whatever you want to do now there. Everything else is big enough for two.

Two people and all their weirdness.

[ A gasp comes from her as he rocks in return. Not one of shock or pain, even if it should have set the pounding in her head off. No, this is desire, and she melts against him as she feels him. Has she ever wanted someone this much? It doesn't feel like it.

Her hands trail down his arms again to his elbows. The kiss breaks only so she can brush against his lips and press her hips to his. Down on top of him. The hesitation makes no sense. They want each other. So, what is she doing wrong? ]

I missed you. [ « Letting go means being honest. Right? Holding nothing back. What is he going to think? » ] I missed you as you. Alan Wake. The one who reached out to me on the Hotline. The thing only dead people or entities from other places can reach. The real Alan Wake, whose like me and sees the same world I do.

[ Her voice lowers. It softens. Part of her wants to keep all of this inside. Secret, hidden, protected. ] I've tried for so long to help you wake up... be here with me again. Now you are. We're here together again. A different Motel, but, us... just us. Alan and Jesse.

[ Fingers glide down his arms to his hands. They curl around the wrists and bring them up her back. Jesse shivers against him, another gasp coming from her, before settling his hands against the back of her bra. She rocks against him again and brushes her lips along his. ]

Let's just be us. No world ending situations. No crazy story. Not right now. [ Her head tilts as she tilts to kiss his cheek and adjust her hips against his. ] Do you remember? Or, do I need to wake the memories up?

Edited 2023-12-09 04:02 (UTC)

Twice. Yeah. Too many times for my liking. It has to stop sometime. I don't want it using me anymore, using me to hurt people. To kill them. I- You know I don't want anyone to die. [ I hate this story. It's not anything I'd ever write. I write crime novels, but I'd never kill anyone.

His own gaze turns downward as his guilt rises. ] I don't know if I ever asked you. How do you deal with it? The guilt. The responsibility. Knowing it's your fault. I know what I'd do.

[ I'd run myself into the ground trying to fix it. Trying to fix what I did. Trying to get people to see that I'm trying to do something. But it's never enough, is it? It doesn't feel like enough. How much do you have to give until people believe you're doing everything you can to make up for your screw-ups?

At least I think I got a few points in with the FBC, but- What about everyone else? Saga? Her family? ]

I'm trying to fix it. I'm trying to make it better. But even I can see that it looks like I'm not doing anything. Maybe some people even think I'm just letting it get worse. Letting the Dark Presence in on purpose. I'm not. I wouldn't.

[ I'm not a bad person. I'm not trying to hurt people.

His agitation is growing again as his doubts and fears start to rise. A look of horror settles into his eyes at the mere thought of another artist, unsuspecting or otherwise, coming to the lake. ]

This can't happen again. There has to be something we can do. [ He can't help the feeling of horror, of being haunted by the thought of another person being dragged into this hell. ]

If only there was a way to limit it. To keep anyone else from being dragged in. [ He rolls his eyes at himself. ]

I know it's not like that. It doesn't affect just one person at a time. That would be too easy.

[ God, I hate this. I hate how this has a ripple effect, growing bigger and bigger until it's too late to catch up. What if I'm too late? ]

I want that: I want to come to your apartment and just be there. Writing. Editing. Whatever. I want to be there with you.

[ I want to be anywhere but here. But that's not going to happen anytime soon. I wish it could. It can't. ]

Let me just ask one more time. [ He rocks against her again, harder and faster. ] If you take everything away, if you take away the fact that we're two people with all the weirdness in the world- why do you love me? Would you feel the same if I couldn't reach you on the Hotline?

[ She keeps on talking, and he keeps on listening, and when she places his hands against the back of her bra, they stay there for a moment. But after another moment, his right hand slips back around to the front of her, and with just his fingertips, he ghosts them along her chest, moving downward in purposeful, slow motions. ]

I like the idea of just being us. Just you and me. [ He waits for her to kiss his cheek, and then he returns the kiss by pressing his lips against hers. ]

I remember. They're awake. I'm awake. [ He kisses her again, deeper this time, if that's possible. ]

But... you could just talk. Just talk, and I'd listen. I'll always listen.

[ If I'm awake, I'll always listen to her. And maybe if I'm not awake, I'll still find a way to hear her. ]

I know. Fiction isn't reality and there's a difference in the two. You're not cruel, even if you can be an asshole. You wouldn't write something like this. [ Jesse feels she may sound like an echo chamber, but it's not her intention. She believes everything she says. Alan may be an asshole, he may have a mean streak, but she can't imagine he'd willingly torture real people like this horror story is doing. No one else may see it past their anger at him, but she does. Because she knows what it's like.] I ran away from it for a long time. I didn't see it was my fault because I was a kid... but it still is to some degree. If I hadn't led them to the Slide Projector, maybe the Hiss would have never shown up. If I hadn't run away scared on my own, Dylan wouldn't have grown up by himself in the Bureau. Everyone involved made their choices, but those were my choices to make up for.

I guess all we can do is move forward and try to make amends. Keep the same mistake from happening again. These forces would use someone else if they didn't use us.

[ She nods to his resolve. They can't always keep people away from Cauldron Lake. That's why they have the monitoring stations, fences, and teams on site. In case someone else has the fate of Zane, Alan or the Anderson Brothers. The Dark Presence is relentless and won't stop, but, they can do their best to be prepared.

He rocks against her and she gasps again. Her head tilts back despite how much the inside of her head doesn't want to move. He keeps asking her questions and talking when she wants to do anything but that. Not because she wants to ignore him, or hide from answering, but because she's already let go and wants to just be with him. Alan, though, doesn't seem to be at the same place just yet.

Her hands move back up his arms to cradle his head as his fingers draw down her chest. Jesse shivers in his arms, rocking against him again as a pleased moan comes from her. She can feel him despite the clothing, and feel how his calloused fingers tease her.

« And he says he's bad at romance. » ]

You believe me. [ Her answer finally comes in a short breathless sentence, practically melting in his hold. She presses against him to communicate he can do whatever he wants and she'll do it. ] When you ask questions it's to understand. Not judge me. You believe me. No one else like this did. Not even people in the Bureau fully understand. [ She rocks again and brushes her lips to his. ] You understand me even if I can't use words like you do. Even though I'm not an artist. I don't care if you're famous. You gave me as chance as me.

I can't--I can't put the weird aside. It's apart of me too much. [ She presses her forehead to his. Her darkened green eyes close at the feel of his fingertips again. ] I've never had a normal life like you did. It... it means a lot to have someone who had a normal life even listen.

[ The answer isn't what he's looking for. At least, she doesn't think it is. ] You care even if you act like you don't. That matters to people like me... and you're really good at kissing.

[ She smiles against his lips to try and underline the humor in the last statement. A deep sigh is against his mouth at his kiss. She would almost feel like she's floating if he wasn't grounding her with his arms. ]

You have a key to the apartment, it means it's your home too. Us in our apartment. If I talk, and you listen, I want to hear your stories.

[ It's something he's struggling with: trying to hold onto who he is and how he thinks and acts when the story is all darkness and horror and cruelty. But for reasons he hasn't allowed himself to think too long about, hearing Jesse's belief in him and belief in the fact that he just wouldn't write a story like this touches him unexpectedly. ]

I always wanted to be a writer. I loved writing. [ Do I still love writing even now? ] Thinking up plots, stories, characters... it was something I enjoyed. Maybe I wasn't good at it, but I loved it. But after this, I don't know if I can write anymore.

[ He silences as he listens to her talking. He talks so much, sometimes all he wants to do is listen and not say anything. ] What was it that you said to me once? That you would have had to deal with Hartman eventually? Maybe it's the same with the Hiss. Maybe they would have found a way in with or without you finding the Slide Projector. If there's anything that I've learned at all, it's that things have a way of happening with or without our involvement.

Maybe the Hiss coming is one of those things. I know that doesn't help or make it easier, because... [ Knowing that hasn't helped me feel better about any of this.

Her words sink in, and it's all that he needs to hear. He doesn't need to say anymore, although there are things he could say. He talks, and then he talks more, and he's tired of talking. Even if he doesn't like it when he stops talking and the silence starts to become deafening, right now, he doesn't want to talk.

His right hand that's at her chest moves further, fingers sliding beneath the bra in what feels like a bold move, or at least, the boldest one he's attempted this time. He wants to do more too, but it's about building up to it. And they're still wearing entirely too many clothes. ]

Then, tell stories instead of writing. For now--after we end this AWE. If you feel the desire to write again? Start writing them down. Bit by bit. [ « Not after how horrible this story has been. He may never be able go write again. I don't want it to be true, but, it's a real outcome that can happen. Hasn't the Dark Place taken enough from him? I don't want it to take away his ability to write too. » ] You can turn that extra room into a den. We'll plot stories together.

[ A small sigh. ] I don't know. Maybe. Polaris and the Hiss would always clash... and maybe they would of found the Slide Projector without me too. But, it doesn't change my part in the fight. My mess I made. I'm responsible for my part.

[ Her lips ghost along his again before her breath is sucked out of her. His hand curls around her breast. It feels familiar; something he's done before. She rocks against him again and into his hold to try and encourage him. Although, he may not need it, as he can definitely feel her arousal by the breast in his hand.

Not only can his words undo her, but apparently his touch as well. Is that just because she let him in so much? Because Polaris can amplify off him? Maybe it's just Alan by his nature and how she is by her nature. They naturally gravitate to one another and cause such intense reactions in the other. Or, she is looking for a complicated answer, when it's the simple answer of being in love is just simply like this.

Jesse moves to kiss him again but stops at a twinge of pain that shoots through her head. A slight shake is in her hands that cup her fscd. She isn't going to let the pain get in the way. Things caused by the Dark Presence and the story interfere too much.

« Not now. Not with this. »

One hand moves down to the hand at her chest, pressing it there to let him know they're not stopping. The other she uses as a guide to help her lay back down. Her head is instantly relieved, but the rest of her is already feeling the ache from being separate from him in just a few moments. The free hand raises once more to reach for him, giving a beckoning motion with her fingers.

« I'm in too deep with him, aren't I? There's no going back. I don't want to let him go. Did I realize that sometime in the first loop? When I realized I loved him? It had to be something like that. I couldn't have decided to go this far because of a whim randomly in one loop. I don't remember all of the details from in between them when we're here in Bright Falls... maybe I don't need to. The emotions might be enough. »

Her hands move back to his face as he moves with her. He might have plans, but first, Jesse kisses him full of hunger and need. ]

Edited 2023-12-14 18:28 (UTC)

[ He's still looking at her intently, hoping that the look in his eyes is enough to tell her that he's still with her, even if he's not answering her with words. Maybe now he's finally come to the point that words aren't needed, just actions. It's strange for him, because he relies on words to communicate, but the time has come for something else. Something different.

His hand is still curled around her breast, fingers alternating between being still and ghosting lightly on the skin there. She moves to kiss him, and he feels the way she stops, seeing her reaction to the pain in her head. He wants to hold her closer, to keep her still, to let her know that she doesn't need to move. The way her hands shake isn't lost on him. But before he can do anything, she's moving again, using his other hand as a guide to see her eased back into a lying down position.

Of course he follows her without even the slightest hesitation. From their new positions on the bed, she's still within easy reach of him, and the hand that guided her down moves to rest against her knee that's also within reach. From there, he allows his fingers to wander up her leg, to her thigh, and then to her hip before coming to a stop.

If she's in too deep, then he's drowning. Again. But it's a different kind of drowning. He's not drowning in despair or horror or hurt. No, he's drowning in feelings of ecstasy and wonder and love, and it's those feelings that drive him to return the kiss with an equal amount of hunger and want and a need to be filled up with that love, and fill her in return. This is a moment he never wants to end; he wants to savor it, to draw it out, to just be them for as much time as they have.

There's no story, no darkness, no terror. Just the two of them kissing, holding each other, and being together. And that's all Alan really needs right now. ]

[ Another quiet moan escapes as his fingers alternate their touch. The sensation feels as if small pings of energy run through her whole body; cutting through the pain in her mind. They try to lure her into a state of floating and melting at the same time. A part of her holds onto that last shred of Control, unsure if Alan would appreciate her entirely letting go. That small part of her is even scared to let go.

Even then, she still wants to. Especially as his other hand trails to her waistline. While not at a desperate state to join together, Jesse definitely finds herself arguing with letting that last bit go and being impatient. He clearly has something in mind.

She should be able to wait and let him do as he wants.

Do they both really want to be swept away entirely into these emotions? Let them dominate them, drive them, be in control?

Maybe all she needs to know is that letting go of control with him is safe. That he'd want her like that. That her without the powers and directorship is attractive and someone he wants--not just emotionally either.

She breaks their kiss only so she can inhale. It takes more focus to not rock her hips up into him at the moment. He clearly wants to do something. She just has to be patient.
Even when everything in her is starting to feel charged and yet threatened to be swept away as well. ]

[ What he wants is to remove the last barriers between them, the physical ones, not the emotional ones. In his mind, they've already gone past those emotional barriers, connecting in a way that brings two hearts together, even if the notion is a trite one. It works, though. Alan sees himself and Jesse as being one person. Connected. Inseparable, no matter how many times the story and the darkness try to pull them apart.

The problem is, the pull of the darkness is strong: a lot stronger than Alan could ever hope to be, but he's still stubbornly clinging to Jesse with everything he has.

His hand slides to the waistband of her pants, fingers curling around it as though he wants to slide it down and off her. There's the slightest amount of hesitation still ringing in his mind, but he pushes it away. It's not the time to hesitate. The signals she's giving him are clear, and now's the time to act. But they're still much too clothed, but tearing off her clothes probably isn't the best idea for either of them.

Maybe if he can just ease off what she's wearing and go from there, that'll be a good start.

Feeling emboldened, he moves to slide the pants down over her hips, prepared to stop if she even looks uncomfortable. Just because she's telling him without so many words that she wants this doesn't mean he can just act rashly. As he works, he brushes his lips against hers lightly once more. ]

[ Jesse can't describe it the same way Alan can. Not in a lack of words or expressing them, but more lacking in faith that someone would want to be involved with her at such a deep level. Admitting it means Alan has as much of a chance of leaving as he does staying. It's a reality she doesn't want to admit is possible.

She makes another pleased sound at the feel of his lips against hers and his hand removing her pants. She works with him the best she can, shimming out of them and kicking them off once she's slid each leg out. They were starting to feel restrictive and annoying. A sense of relief washes over her at the feel of the air of the Motel against her bare legs. It does little to help relieve the building feeling inside her, but, Alan seems to know what he wants to do. Rushing it doesn't seem to be that direction.

Although, she does guide the hand at her hip to slide between them. She places their hands between her legs, making another breathless sound against his mouth. Just so he can feel what he does to her and how much she wants this. Him. How much she's missed him.

Just in case the Dark Place has taken that knowledge away from him. ]

[ Maybe he should be more in a rush. Time always seems to be against them, one way or another. But as much as he wants to go in headfirst, going all the way with her and giving into those hungry desires that want to be fed, he also wants to savor these moments. To remember them. Maybe it's all pointless, as his memories get stolen away from him before he even realizes it, but somehow, it doesn't feel pointless to him.

He can feel how she responds to him even without her moving their hands to rest between her legs. But with their hands placed there, it becomes even clearer to him, and that, more than anything, only encourages him further. He rocks against her, not roughly, but with need and a thinly veiled urgency. He's missed her as much as she's missed him, and he tries to communicate that through his movements.

The Dark Place might be trying to steal everything from him, but it seems that these feelings and this knowledge are some things he's not willing to let go of so easily.

He breathily says her name against her mouth as he continues to rock his hips against hers, starting slowly and gradually increasing the pace. ]

[ Moments like this should be savored. The images and memories of their very first time are lost to the near countless versions of the story, but, the emotional imprint still seems to remain the same. Not only that, but for Jesse, it's continued to build. Every loop, every time around, those feelings just intensify. Maybe they've amplified in their own way. Each version resonating until it's reached a point where she memories of those emotions can't be erased by the story or the Dark Presence. Their intensity is whats made her so impatient; wanting to recapture and experience what she did once so many loops ago.

That doesn't mean they should rush.

She responds to her name with his, gasping at the feel of him against her. It's familiar and new at the same time and drives waves through her body. One hand threads back into his hair and the other wraps around his midsection to anchor herself. So that she can ride along with him and lose herself in the waves he's making inside her.

Her head tilts backwards as she archs into him. Her hips rock to meet his, causing the waves to intensify. Another gasp leaves her as she begins to shudder. She hardly cares if she finds release first or second, because she trusts him and has given him control of the situation. He can go as fast or slow, go as many rounds as he wants. As long as it's him and no one else steps through the door to interrupt them.

Her green eyes flutter shut as another wave crashes over her. Hands curl further into his hand and against his back. ]

Alan...

Edited 2024-01-02 17:12 (UTC)

[ It's always been there for Alan too, even if it hasn't seemed like it. The story and the darkness has done its best to make him forget everything, including those moments with Jesse, but he hasn't lost the imprint of them either. Maybe it took time for the momentum to build, as well as his sense of arousal, but both are clearly building up in him as he rocks against her more, pressing more of himself against her to meet her in the middle.

He's close to reaching his peak, the climax of it all, but he hasn't yet reached that threshold yet. If she reaches it first, or they reach it together is just a matter of timing as he trusts her just as much as she does him.

A moan of pleasure is his response to her saying his name and arching herself further into him. He doesn't want to stop, but every move from her pushes him closer to cresting that edge, that drop into a more relaxed state. She might be trusting him to lead, but he's just as much putty in her hands for her to work with however she wishes. ]

I love you... I love you.

[ The words slide breathlessly out of him as his hold on her tightens. ]

[ Alan says, and would say, he isn't a great writer. That he understands fundamentals, concepts, and genres and is decent in those genres. That while he knows those he isn't some amazing American novelist like he always wanted to be. That fame came to him cheaply over novels that in his eyes couldn't begin to rival the people that he strived to be like. He would believe every single negative comment, critique, and reinforce them in his mind.

Jesse, however, believes entirely that he has mastered words. Or, at the very least, he has mastered the words that will elect the exact right (and sometimes horribly wrong) reactions from her. No simple writer could do that, given how she has closed herself off to the world.

His simple statements of love are the catalyst that sends her off. The timed movement and the words together make everything flash, and she's curling around him and stretching out at the same time. A low moan finds its way out among the heavy breaths and pleased sounds that only Alan Wake seems to know how to pull from her.

It leaves her dizzy and slightly disorientated with her head pounding, but she manages to kiss him and trail her fingers along the back of his neck and waist. The little touches to bring him to the point she's been pushed to. Her eyes flutter open to wat her as he hits his release.

She doesn't want it to end.

If time isn't on their side, and they have so much to make up for...

Her fingers brush through his hair as he eases into that state of post-ecstacy. Not that she stays in that frame of mind for long herself. A brush of a kiss to his lips before she guides him to roll over to his back. She gently moves over him, not quite sitting on his hips, waiting to see if he wants more. She does. That gravitational pull to him wants more. She wants him, and all of him, and for him to take all of her. It's almost primal in a way, and she can't help but worry that part of her is because of Polaris... and if it will scare him.

« I miss him. I don't want to let him go anymore. I want this. »

The hand at his hair trails to his face, brushing along his jaw and beard. Her breathing is deep, but eyes dark and searching his. ]

I love you. [ The words make her tremble slightly and her heart pounds. ] Alan Wake.

[ « Writer. Parautalitarian. However he describes himself. »

She leans back, hands trailing down his bare chest to the waistband of his sweatpants. She guides them off as he had hers. Then, she reaches up to herself and removes her tank top. Fingers unhook the suddenly very annoying bra, but she let's it hang off her in case he wishes to remove it. ]

[ Of course he would be inclined to disagree with her. In many ways, he's his own worst critic, judging himself and his writing with a harsh lens. He wanted to be better than he feels he is, both as a writer and as a person, and in quite a few ways, he feels as though he's failed in that regard. He's a bestselling author, but who is his audience? Is the content that he's produced what he always imagined it would be? Now it seems as though he's not sure.

And maybe the ease with which he says words that elicit responses from her is just another sign of him falling into tropes and trite ways of speaking. But if he can get a reaction from her at all, he considers that a good thing. And he's gotten several reactions from her already, so at least he's managing to do something right.

He didn't take as big a hit as she did, but as he continues trying to pull those reactions from her, he's keenly aware of a feeling of dizziness. Not because he's pushing himself too hard or going too fast, but because just touching her like this is such a heady feeling that it's making his head swim. But he's coming closer to reaching his own climax and the pent up feeling is almost all he can think about. But release comes eventually, and all he wants to do is keep her close to him, where he can touch her and she can do the same to him.

She brushes a kiss against his lips and then indicates that she wants him to roll over. He does without hesitation, coming to a stop once he's positioned on his back. He can't remember the last time he felt this relaxed or this content, but he's feeling both things now and he doesn't want those feelings to end.

But when she moves to position herself almost above his hips, the message is clear. He rocks his hips upwards to brush them against hers once before lowering himself back down just in time for her hand to trail across his face and his beard. For reasons he's not sure of, the touch of her hand on his face always puts him at ease. It relaxes him somehow, even if she hasn't realized it.

His own breathing deepens as his eyes darken further with intense desire: desire for her. Desire to become one with her in all possible ways. ]

Jesse Faden. [ He echoes the way she says his name, drawing out each syllable slowly as if savoring the feel of her name on his tongue. ] Do you know... I love you more than I've loved anyone. [ Yes, even more than he loved Alice. He'll always love Alice, and he'll always remember her, but there's something about Jesse that's just even more meaningful. Impactful.

He shivers as her hands trail down his chest until they reach the pants he borrowed. He doesn't resist as she slides them off him. He wants to just lie there looking up at her, taking her in and memorizing her, but he reaches up to remove the bra that she's unhooked and let dangle.

They're close to being completely bare around each other, and honestly, that's fine with him. Clothes just get in the way, and he wants to be able to feel her with no obstructions. ]

[ If the tropes work, then what is wrong with that? Tropes exist for reasons. She's had so little experience with any of them that it hardly matters if it comes from a romance dictionary for authors. They're genuine, and that's what matters the most to her. She may tease him for being corny or obvious, but, she still smiled and her eyes seem to glow. That is what should matter most.

A shiver bolts up her spine with their hips touching. He's clear on what he wants, and she wants it too. She wants to bring them together and only focus on him for a time. A time that she hopes can make up for all their missed opportunities and moments. Not that it's possible to regain anything lost like time. All they can do is move forward and make good on what they have now.

Her attention moves back to his eyes the moment he says her name. It does something to her. Not only send her body quivering but making something tighten inside. He's never said her name like that and she realizes just how much control she's given to him. Of course, she's said she gave it all, but experiencing it is something else.

The question is clear in her eyes at his declaration: What about your wife?

She stays where she is, minus needing to move her arms to remove the bra as he pulls it down. Eyes intently looking into his for an answer. She doesn't want to replace Alice or cause them to end their marriage. He loves Alice enough to trap himself in another dimension, how can loving her supersede that? Should it?

Jesse removes the remaing of her underwear and lowers her hips to his. She rests over him, feeling him through the last remaining bit of clothing. Her head pounds at sitting upright. It hurts, but she wants to make him happy. Bring him to a point she is at. He can't do all the work for them. Her injury can simply deal with the situation.

She shifts her hips experimentally against his. She rubs against him, watching what reactions the Writer might have. Her hands raise then to his, guiding them along her sides. Hopefully, he will understand her meaning. She wants him to touch her everywhere--kiss her everywhere. Explore and find his favorite spots. Ahe can take care of him in the mean time. ]

OCEANVIEW II

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