#[ v; tip my hat to the dead ]

[ivystoryweaver]

Spectre

A Moon Knight Halloween Love Story

Event #5: House at the End of the Street

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Event #5 Summary: There’s a glaringly big issue. You’re dead and you really want your partner. In every way.

Pairing this chapter: MK system x f!reader

Word count: 3.5k

Content: angst, a reminder that this fic is nsfw, mdni! p in v, mentions of oral and other very suggestive thoughts and talk, all the yearning, ghost probs (no body), language, probably inaccurate DID (show based)

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PREVIOUSLY on "Spectre"...

Jake’s eyes were fluttering closed, his head dropping to the pillow.  “I’m so tired, but I don’t want to go to sleep.”

“Why not?” you asked, blinking innocently.

“Because...” another sigh, “I’m afraid that when I wake up, you’ll be gone.”

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"Spectorr!" Barney called over the usual Triple B's morning bustle.

The door's bell jingled as Jake pushed his way inside. He tipped his hat, greeting the oblivious owner, as Barney summoned him down to the side register. "Usual?"

As Jake bypassed several other customers, Barney noticed not only the flat cap, but a particular jacket and black gloves.

"Buenos dias," Jake flashed a grin.

"Mr. Lockley," Barney grinned. "Apologies. I'll get those hash browns started right away."

"Gracias," Jake shot back with a chuckle.

"Haven't seen you in a while, kid. How you doing?" Barney asked sincerely, getting to work on Jake's café au lait.

"The answer to that question is the fact that I'm here, Barn," Jake shrugged.

"Right, right," the older man nodded, his dark eyes shining with sympathy. "Still...how you holding up with things? Marc said he's having some trouble sleeping. Worried about you boys."

"I would tell you, but you would probably think I'm crazy."

"Whoa, now," Barney cautioned, "Your girl didn't let you talk like that. I'm not about to either. What's going on? Haven't seen Marc in here for days."

Jake wasn't really the care-and-share type. But Barney had a way of disarming everyone.

Besides, Jake wasn't exactly a pretentious fellow. He had nothing to hide.

Leaning in over the counter, Jake glanced around him and lowered his voice. "You believe in ghosts?"

Barney folded his thick arms over his round tummy. "You for real, Lockley?"

"I saw her. Talked to her. So did Marc." He kept his voice just loud enough to be heard over the hiss of the griddle and the bustle of morning customers.

Barney's eyes went wide. "You serious?"

Jake shrugged again. "Told you it sounds crazy. Why do you think Marc's not sleeping? Why do you think I'm here?"

Right then, Jake's order came up. "Figured it was for the café au lait." Barney winked, handing over the to-go hash browns and beverage. "On the house."

"You're a legend, Barn," Jake gave a little salute.

Taking his bag and disposable cup, he ventured back out into town - the town you'd loved so much. It was typically Marc and Steven walking these streets, living in daylight. Jake enjoyed the dark - his car, the noise of the city - the mystery of it.

But he loved you more. So an adorable bungalow in this little town was the life for him.

But now you were gone.

Today, he would work Marc's hardware store shift. He didn't mind. Hopefully Steven would show up for his library shift tomorrow. Sitting in a silent environment filled with old books was about like watching paint dry, at least for Jake.

He had a pleasant day working with his hands. He half expected to hear from one of his alters in various shop windows, but his walk home was quiet - adorned only by jack-o-lanterns, oversized cobwebs and the crunch of leaves under his boots. Then he happened upon the "Mystic Delights and Other Charming Novelties" shop, where Ms. Marjorie was waiting in the doorway, as usual.

"Lovely evening," she called. "Mr...Mr. Lockley, isn't it?"

Jake removed his hat and pushed his fingers through his hair. "Don't think I've had the pleasure, Ms..."

"Ms. Marjorie," she returned. "I'm an acquaintance of Mr. Grant. I won't keep you if you're busy. Just wanted to say hello."

Jake nodded, intrigued by the strange old woman. "I'll, uh...I'll tell Steven you say hi. Nice meeting you."

"He told me a little, you know - about her. I'm sorry for your loss."

Jake normally wouldn't discuss his home life with strangers but he knew how to read people. Kindness lingered behind her eyes. The corners of those eyes crinkled with a sympathetic smile. "Goodnight, dear."

Jake nodded. "Buenas noches, Señora."

A bluster of wind swirled around Jake as he pulled his cap back over his curls.

The rest of the walk home was uneventful. Even Mrs. Nockles didn't magically appear to force a conversation. No, Jake walked all the way to Elm Street without incident. He thought he might eat a little something and then take a nap before working in the city tonight - both jobs.

He wanted to get back to the things that were his: the car, the darkness.

And he wanted to see you. He half expected you to be sitting on the bed once he climbed the stairs to the bedroom to change clothes. Even after a shower and that nap he was so interested in - nothing.

He finally got dressed to head out to his actual job, pausing at your front-porch-photograph hanging outside the bedroom in the hallway.

"Te amo," he whispered, swiping one finger over your pictured hair before pulling on his gloves.

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The next morning, Steven woke up late. Not surprising, given that Jake was out most of the night.

You were there, perched on the end of the bed. You had become aware of yourself - conscious - while they slept. You watched your partner resting, longing to talk to him. And wondering if you would be seen once they woke up.

Steven saw nothing.

You followed closely behind him as he brushed his teeth and got dressed, sighing in defeat as he walked out of the bedroom, pausing by your picture in the hallway.

"'Mornin' my love," he softly greeted. "Miss you so much today. Almost feels like you're here. Guess I was a bit too hard on Marc. Might be going a bit bonkers myself. Thought I saw you in the window the other night."

You rose (floated?) to your feet, wishing with all your non-corporeal form that you could run to Steven and shake him.

"Steven, I'm here!" You called out. "Wait, please, I'm right here!'

But he left. You couldn't follow. You could never follow. Anytime you tried to leave the room you only ended up back in the Dark Place.

It happened a lot. It was like it took a lot of focus and energy to stay in this room.

Steven came home tired and oblivious. Ms. Marjore and Mrs. Nockles had invited him in for sandwiches, but he could barely keep his eyes open. He never lifted his gaze to find the bedroom curtains rustling. And of course, he couldn't see you there, waiting on the bed.

But the following morning, Marc did.

Steven had fallen into bed by 7pm, and Jake was exhausted from fronting. They slept all night, leaving Marc feeling quite refreshed.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat up in bed only to see you there on the end, waiting for him.

"Oh shit," he hissed, in surprise, running his hands over his face to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. By this point, he expected you to murmur some tortured nonsense and float out the window. But you scooted closer, seeming quite yourself.

"Marc?"

His dark eyes blinked and then narrowed, scrutinizing you for a moment. Was he dreaming?

Your head dropped in defeat when he failed to answer. "You can't see me," you lamented.

"Sweetheart, yeah. I can see you. I see you."

Your head snapped back up, making your hood fall down. "Marc," you breathed. "Hi..." You weren't sure what to say. You didn't want to scare him again.

"Hey," he softly returned, pulling back the covers to slide closer to you. "Don't leave, okay?"

"I won't," you quickly assured him, momentarily distracted as your eyes flickered down to his bare chest, trailing down his soft tummy, over the tantalizing bulge hidden by black boxer briefs. The thin fabric barely wrapped around his thick thighs.

Ahem.

"You’ve been gone. I missed you," you told him, eager to have a real chance to talk to Marc. "I'm so sorry I was scaring you. I wasn't trying to."

"I know, baby," he quickly nodded. "It's okay. I just..."

Your gazes locked.

His dark eyebrows shifted as he studied you quizzically...almost hopefully. “Jake said you talked to him for a while. That you seemed…clearer.”

You nodded eagerly. Feelings were still strange to you, but you were sure you felt relieved that Marc wanted to talk with you. That he wasn’t so traumatized by your presence.

He scooted closer - so close that, if you had a living body, your thighs would have been touching. His eyes studied you so carefully, with such tender regard, you were almost certain he wanted to kiss you.

“Is it true that you can’t leave this room?” He asked you, his voice tinged with sadness.

You chewed where your lip used to be, thoughtfully. “Yeah, I don’t think can leave. Not that I can remember.”

On instinct, he reached for your hand, but came up empty.

“Marc, I…I’m sorry.”

“‘S okay, baby. Not your fault.” He granted you a tender smile, but pain lingered behind his eyes. “You really weren’t downstairs the other night? In the living room, in my chair?”

Your eyebrows shifted in confusion. “I was sitting in your chair?”

“No, I was,” he explained. “You were sitting…well, on top of me.” Marc scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

So cute.

“I was sitting on top of you in your chair?” You repeated, blinking innocently. “What was I doing on top of you?”

Marc chuckled sheepishly, his dark lashes kissing his cheeks as his gaze dropped.

“Jake said you saw me naked,” you went on. “Was I naked, on top of you?’

This was too adorable. Marc Spector was blushing. “I, uh…I had too much to drink, I think. Probably a dream.”

“Was it a good dream?” You whispered, drawing his gaze back to you.

Marc peered at you openly now, his eyes locking on to yours. “You remember the seventh inning stretch?”

Oh, that.

Marc used to watch baseball games in his favorite chair. Occasionally, you watched too. Sometimes you were upstairs writing in your loft. Eventually, you would venture down and ask Marc how much longer til the game was over. He would always promise you he’d come upstairs during the seventh inning stretch - which, on television was simply another commercial break.

If Marc ever needed any convincing, you would simply appear in the living room wearing nothing. Once you had his attention, you would climb on top of him. Sometimes you were sure Marc pretended to ignore you just a little too long for the express purpose of you crawling on top of him in that damn chair and giving him a good ride.

You had a lot of good times in that old chair.

“I guess it had to be a dream,” he reasoned, pulling you from your reverie. “Damn good one.” Then he repeated something Jake had said. “You’re still so beautiful.”

You...swallowed? Your eyes fluttering down to Marc’s perfect, full lips, which he was presently moistening with his tongue.

What was going on? You were dead and he was very much alive. What kind of a ghost had…desires?

You were staring. Blatantly.

There were definitely more important issues than attraction right now, but Marc couldn’t help the way he responded to you. He loved you as much at this moment as he ever did when you were alive.

“Marc, I… it’s probably not fair to you, for me to be here like this. I mean…I still love you. But you…you should - "

“Do not say I should move on,” he warned, tearing his eyes from yours. “Don’t even think it.”

You found yourself speechless for a moment, which concerned him. Maybe you would become confused again, and disappear.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I’m not mad, just - don’t go yet, okay?” His voice broke as his eyes shone with moisture. “Don’t leave me just yet.”

“Hey, I’m here,” you soothed, drifting to stand in front of him. Peering down at him earnestly, you wondered how a dead vapor of a woman with no pulse and no heartbeat could feel such a burn in her chest - such a gut-wrenching longing.

You were presently dead. That was a fact. Which meant you were haunting Marc. If you kept this up, it would only hurt him. He would never be able to move on. But before you could figure out how to express your concerns, he beat you to it.

"I'm worried about you," Marc quietly confessed, his fingers toying with the vapor that was your hand. This small action both soothed and electrified you somehow.

“About me?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Jake said you don’t know where you are, or why you’re not with your parents. I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t answer - your face simply twisted as it was prone to do when you were carefully thinking, or sometimes, writing.

Marc would often find you in your loft, staring at a blank screen, your precious face twisted in thought.

“You’re stuck on a detail, right?” He would sweetly interrupt.

It was always true. You knew the outline of your story - where you wanted to go, but you would fuss over the details of the overalls your character wore, or how a strand of hair fell. Marc would help you zoom out and keep your eye on the big picture. Get the rough draft down. Be objective.

Steven would go through first and second drafts with you. He could spot continuity errors or suggest the slightest detail to brighten a paragraph.

Jake didn’t work with you too often, but he would take your manuscripts out at night with him and read them in his car. Jake always had a emotional suggestion. Even though you wrote children’s books, he would ask questions about their motivations.

“My 3 editors,” you would call them. You took their suggestions quite seriously, sometimes to the bewilderment of your actual editor.

Marc’s voice softly pulled you back to the present moment. “Sweetheart? You’re drifting away.” Peering down at him, you saw his eyes wide and worried.

“Marc?” You whispered. “Did I…was I gone just now?”

“No,” he confirmed. “Just quiet for a few minutes. I thought you might not come back for a while.”

A smile warmed your face. “No, I was remembering. It was…nice.”

After that, you and Marc got back on track - discussing the darkness and where you might be - why you weren’t at rest. You talked through some theories. Maybe this was the afterlife? Your bedroom - the place where you lived so much life, ate so many breakfasts-in-bed, sweetly conversed while moonlight streamed through the window.

Where your lover had held you in his arms, on his chest while you slept. The place filled with passion, heated lovemaking - night after night, tangled together in the sheets - the heavy length of him inside you…the press of his hips pinning you to the mattress.

The thickness of his thighs caging you in as you took him into your mouth, or the mess of dark curls between your thighs first thing in the morning.

Steven’s soft whimpers against your breast as he would suck you there.

The way you would pull Jake into bed by his tie at 4 am, end up with his gloved fingers stuffed deep into your pussy and his flat cap on your head. The tie would eventually secure your wrists to the bedpost and then you were in for it.

There wasn’t a thing you wouldn’t try with your partner and you loved every second of it.

The filthy words Marc would breathe on your neck as he would take you from behind.

He loved to find you half asleep, waiting naked for him to finish the baseball game. He would slide under the covers and pull you close - kiss a trail down the side of your neck as your legs fell open for him. Thick fingers slid between your folds to find you wet already.

Marc would lazily roll your clit between his thumb and finger -that sensation alone elicited lust filled moans that would make him instantly hard. You were already coming by the time he slid inside you, cupping your mound - pushing you down into his upward thrust.

This is how he fucked you for the last time. You whimpered and moaned and begged for more. So he gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, pulling you up on all fours. Standing on his knees, he slammed into you from behind, but you wanted it harder. Harder.

You came again, blinding hot pleasure making you shriek as your back arched and your cunt gushed hot and wet all over him. He gathered you close as you murmured his name, begging him to stay inside you until he was hard again.

You fell asleep hot and wet and joined, and he slowly, deeply fucked you awake as the sun rose for your last day on Earth.

So maybe this was heaven.

You heard Marc calling your name once more.

“Sorry…I was remembering again.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he choked out. Looking down at him, there on the edge of the bed, you realized his cheeks were flushed and he shifted with the slight discomfort of a man with an erection.

“You were talking about the last time we were in bed together. In detail. Like...writer's detail.” His dark eyebrows shifted curiously. “You don’t remember?”

“I…said all that out loud?” If you had an actual face, it would feel hot right now. “Shit - I’m sorry. I guess I was just wondering if a place with so many good memories could be…heaven.”

This sobered Marc a little. Pushing off the bed, he…readjusted himself before raking a hand through his hair. He paced over to the window, giving you a delicious view from behind, before he whirled on his heel, back to you. “Lot of good memories, yeah.”

You eased over to him, reaching out. All you wanted was to feel his arms around you. When you came up empty, you saw his beautiful eyes moisten as his throat bobbed.

How could this be heaven if Marc was sad? And how could you share any more of those precious or salacious moments if you couldn’t touch him?

You just gave him an erection, for fucks sake.

"I'm happy, you know," he said softly, "if you drift to a good memory instead of the dark. It's...not something you need to apologize for. I'm glad for it."

"But you're sad," you whispered fervently. "I'm hurting you. Just by existing, I - "

"No," he hissed. "Don't say it's better if you're gone. Please just...don't fucking say it."

"But, Marc, I - "

The way his eyes flashed gave you pause.

"I better not list the house for sale," he murmured, mostly to himself. He ran his hand over his chin thoughtfully before finding your gaze once more. "I'm not gonna leave you here."

A breath you would never actually breathe caught in your chest, where your lungs should be. "You were going to sell the house?"

His head dropped, almost shamefully. "Babe, I...I'm not like them - Steven and Jake. I don't...adjust to things. I can't look at your pictures the way they do, or even talk about you..." He sniffed as his voice cracked with emotion. "This house isn't the same without you in it and I thought...I thought I would just - "

"Run," you interjected. "You thought you would run. Because Marc Spector thinks he can run faster than his pain, or punch it out of someone else."

He physically withdrew as your words stung him. It was delivered with more candor than you intended.

"I don't mean to judge you, Marc. I'm sorry, I..."

"No, you're right," he admitted. Marc knew what he was. He was just...made wrong. "Steven loves it here. It's his home. And Jake's at home anywhere his car is. Or we are. Steven and me. But I...I can't...can't seem to get myself together. Shit."

He shook his head, tearing his fingers through his hair. "Listen to me. What the hell am I even talking about when you're the one who..."

"You're grieving," you spoke softly. Sweetly. "There's no right way to do it. You're not wrong to need a change. You're not wrong to be angry. I know I am."

Marc nodded, feeling awful for somehow making this issue you were having about his pain. Pathetic. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. What can I do?"

"Marc, hey...look at me?" You wanted him to stop for a second and just be with you. He complied, the pain he felt pulling the corners of his mouth down. The wrinkle you used to smooth away with your fingers appeared between his thick eyebrows.

"Take it easy on yourself? For me?"

Easier said than done.

"And...and maybe don't sell the house just yet?" You barely managed that request in a choked whisper. "If this is the only place I am besides the dark, and...and you guys leave then, I'm afraid - "

"Of the dark," he solemnly concluded. Reaching for your hand again - pointless, though it was, he made a vow. "Baby, look at me. I will never leave you here alone. Never. I promise you."

You nodded, certain you could feel a warm reassurance washing over you. "Thank you. I love you so much."

"I love you too. Always."

Next

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[justarandombrit]

I did the thing again. If you missed the livestream but want to know what happened, I wrote down some notes again. (Spoiler warning, obviously, as I will mention who won the death match)

. The Nightmare Time theme is so fucking good

. Xander murdered Grace last death match and won

. James and Matt like wrestling (not each other - the sport)

. BOTTLE IMPS!!!!!!!!!!!!

. WORKIN BOYS GETS RELEASED ON YOUTUBE AT 425,000

. Lmao the backing music is Jane's A Car

. We are the Lords In Black

. HARMONY AND BARRY!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HARMONY SO MUCH

. Ted and Hidgens are a duo lmaoooooo

. Melissa and w o m a n

. Mariah really loved w o m a n

. CCRP set up a water filtration system that pissed people off

. USE IT OR LOSE IT

. Harmony and Barry are just so annoying that Paul and Emma want to fight them

. Paul is the first to die

. Coffee makes Barry stronger

. Jon is the only one who thought Paulkins would win

. Rip Harmony :(

. Paul throws spare change at Harmony and Barry, summoning the Homeless Man, who wins the fight for them

. Bill and Alice get an easybake oven stolen from them by Sherman

. Love Vs Crazy

. Frank and Bill get mistaken for eachother mid-fight

. Sherman is vicious

. Frank wants Sherman to die

. Alice eats Sherman's soul and becomes a little kid again

. Ruth has a crush on Hidgens

. Ted and Hidgens have a dead body???????

. The dead body is a Frankenstein amalgamation of all the Workin Boys

. Frankenruth?????????

. RICHIE HAS THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON HIS SIDE

. Ted and Hidgens win with help from the Workin Boy

. “w o m a n is here!”

“I'm fucking here, bitches”

. Shapiro + Bailey are looking for Roman

. Dog…

. Oh no

. Roman is the dog.

. Melissa and w o m a n die

. MISS HOLLOWEEN!!!!!!!

. Bottle Imps was supposed to be between Forever and Always and Time Bastard

. Bill meets the founder of CCRP

. CHARLES IS IN IT

. CHARLES FOUNDED CCRP

. HARVARD LAW SCHOOL COMMUNITY ORGANISING PRICK?!?!?!?!?

. HOWIE?!?!?!?!?!?

. Bill's been at CCRP 13 years

. Coven’s Communication Research and Power

. Charles wants… ALL the money

. If it's actually Billted oh my god…

. Jane didn't die, but their dog did so she divorced him

. THEY'VE COVERED THE PROTESTS LIVE AT THE HATCHETFIELD KENNEL

. THE PROBLEMATIC PUPPY BIT SOLOMON LAUTER

. DONNA WANTS THE DOG TO DIE

. THE DOG IS IN THE CAR

. THE DOG CAR RUNS OVER DAN AND DONNA

. GOT MY PAW ON THE GAS

. Everyone is cheating on each other

. Ethan used to bully Pete

. Pete and Steph don't tip

. Lex flips out

. Lex suddenly develops a gluten intolerance????

. Jason and Kyle save Steph and Pete

. Max breaks into Camp Idontwannabang, Grace reads him Bible stories, they're about to kiss, then Boy Jerry and Girl Jeri burst in to kill them

. Grace is so Jesus loving that Lumberaxe kills the Jerries

. MISS HOLLOWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN

. Excorcism???

. “Christ’s in hell with your mother”

Riley

. Miss Holloway has a witch hat!!!!!

. Evil mask??

. Riley's in hell smh

. “You basic bitch”

. MISS HOLLOWAY THROWS HERSELF INTO A WOOD CHIPPER

. Joey is Ted again

. YELLOW JACKET

. Alice and Bill get pissed about Paulkins trash talking Mamma Mia

. Joey: “This is the future the libs want”

. General MacNamara drops in from a helicopter and shoots Bill and Alice in the head

. James will murder Paul and Emma himself if they survive again

. Ted accidentally confesses to murdering Ruth and Richie

. Joey: “Here's the thing, ACAB”

. Thrash murders Shapiro for being a cop lmaooooooo

. Sam’s a dick to Tim at Pizza Pete’s

. Hannah straight up murders Charlotte and Sam

. I have to go to bed :( (Stopped right before Holyghost v Lautity)

. I'm baaaa-aaaaaack! It's the next day, I have pancakes, and I'm just realising I accidentally wrote Lautity instead of Lautski… I just love them too much

. I haven't checked Tumblr cause I don't want to be spoiled for who wins

. OH SHIT WORKIN BOYS IS ON YOUTUBE

. I'm back on the livestream, I'll check that out later

. They're at Perky's Buds, Grace has dragged Max there for a protest, Steph dragged Pete there for weed

. Grace wants Steph to go to heaven

. Five minutes for A THOUSAND DOLLARS?!?!?!?

. THEY DID IT IN ONE MINUTE

. Joey: “You horny little fucks”

. Max just murders Steph and Pete

. Max wouldn't want to hit a girl, Ziggs comes out, fails to land a single shot on them, but attracts the nighthawks which peck out Steph and Pete’s eyes

. Nicole Rodriguez is so fucking talented damnnnnnnnn, also I love Cool As I Think I Am (Reprise)

. This song will always destroy me emotionally :(

. Why is Joey doing a British accent lmaoooo

. This isn't the next scene, but is after it chronologically

. BRENDA!!!!!!!!!!

. BRENDA WORKS AT MISS RETRO'S

. If only it was a real werewolf… Wayward Guide, anyone?

. “Shit-eating grin” is my favourite Americanism. It's so funny I love it

. I kinda love Tucker

. More skidoos???

. Kyle's in college?????????????? Damn

. Even Stacy's in college

. Miss Holloway: “Cause the 80’s were bitchin’ ”

. Oh nooooo :(

. Miss Holloway: “The intranet”

. Oh god

. Oh shit

. Oh fuck

. Even though I knew this was going to happen I'm still devastated

. Oh god :((((((((

. God we need NMT3

. Joey: “Is this a bad time to announce Curt and Kim are getting divorced?”

. VIRGINITY ROCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

. Tedgens are stealing from CCRP, Paulkins are about to go on a date, they find them, and Hidgens goes all murder-crazy

. Corey: “Some of us are wrong and many of us are right”

. Joey: “Jon, Ted is gooning all over this office”

. Jon: “Great job everybody, all the food is gonna be poisoned next week”

. Goddamnit I just got spoiled for it :(

. Tedgens manage to find the Bastard's Box and trap Paul and Emma in it

. Hidgens hears Workin Boys coming from the box, but Ted stops him from touching it

. Tom and Becky want to buy the Waylon Place, and find Grace and Max burying Pete and Steph

. Tom coaches the Hatchetfield Nighthawks??????????

. Gen Z Vs Millennials

. Someone pulled $800 from the Kickstarter :(

. Will arrived literally as soon as Max died

. Grace and Max are ghosts now

. Meg Lloyd is also insanely talented

. Will loves Tom and Becky

. Sauce Saturday

. RUN AWAY WITH MEEEEEEE

. They're in the Starlight theatre, Wilbur is there for some reason

. “He was driving the car that killed your dog”

. NOOOOOOO JENNY

. LAUREN!!!!!

. Wilbur just straight up cheats so Tedgens win

. OHHHHHHH TED VS HIDGENS

. Ted always dies though :/

. A girl Miss Holloway saved has died

. MISS HOLLOWAY IS RENEGOTIATING HER DEAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

. Lore….

. Miss Holloway chops off her toes?????

. AND DIPS THEM IN CHOCOLATE?????????

. AN OLD POP STAR THE WORLD’S FORGOTTEN

. That's what that tune is called?

. OH MY GOD THE LORDS

. I NEED TO DRAW THIS

. Why do the Lords eat toes

. Blinky has a mouth???????

. Nibbly lmao

. Mariah: “Lauren, you're muted, baby”

Lauren (muted): “FUCK”

. Blinky, my love

. This is so fanfiction coded I love it

. Tinky likes Miss Holloway????? Duke really was right about everyone being in love with her

. I WANNA DANCE WITH SOMEBODY

. Lmao Tinky

. Double calculators, and an abacus????

. Blinky (covering his ears): That's a bad word!

. BLINKY HAS EARS??????

. HER NAME

. BE A PALLY WAL

. OH MY GOD MISS HOLLOWAY

. Ted wins!!!

. THEY'RE GONNA DO DND

. Well.

. Nightmare Time Cover!!!!!!!! Needy Beast, my love

. Oh god that was amazing

[irreverententity]

⌞✦ 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐘’s INTRO ✦⌝

── .✦ M Y B L O G

hello hello hello *tips hat* My name is Sirius but u can call me pads, z, or generational disappointment if you’re my family ! I’m legally 18 with the body of an 80 yr old

ıllı my blog will be chaotic and include everything from fit checks to anti-capitalism/facism rambles to hozier is jesus conspiracy theories to dying on the destiel was the og queerbaiting hill. this is my brain in a blog. everything will be tagged accordingly but buckle up anyway. I do have mental health issues which may be offhandedly mentioned and could be potentially triggering but that’s NOT what this blog is for. [if you’re here from my vent blog haiiii :D if you want my vent blog just dm :)]

── .✦ A B O U T M E

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

▊▍ ‹ MY PRONOUNS ⸝⸝

he/him/his they/them/theirs

xe/xem/zyr it/its/its

de/demon/demons fall/fallen/falls

imp/imp/imp star/star/stars

sin/sin/sins ze/zem/zyr

✦ .　　　　　 . ˚ . . ✦ ˚

I generally identify as a problem. I’m queer, polyamorous, and have a qpp <3 gender wise…idfk anymore, but I use the labels nonbinary/transmasc/boycreature. I generally present as masc or androgynous but once i transition I plan on presenting more feminine bc I like to hoard all the genders 🤲🏼 (if you’re reading this, check your pockets, your gender may have been stolen)

I’m chronically ill (h-EDS + POTS) and disabled (autistic) !

random shit: i’m vegan, punk, a chronic caffeine/energy drink consumer, and if you haven’t guessed cliché — but there aren’t enough peer reviewed emo pre-teen claire’s rejected peircings haver bitches in the world anymore.

use tone tags with me !!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

✦ = current special interest ・

☓﹐⊂⊃﹒➜ interests: peircings/body mods, kinks/bdsm, crafting/patch work, bone collecting, cryptids, norse&greek mythology, art, writing, editing, sleeping, dead dove fanfiction, watching movies, doom scrolling + more

☓﹐⊂⊃﹒➜ my fandoms: ✦ doctor who, ✦ supernatural, ✦ good omens, helluva boss/hazbin hotel, yaelokre, sherlock, house m.d, the walking dead, lucifer, five nights at freddy’s, the marauders era (hp), marvel, star wars, star trek, arcane, the umbrella academy, shameless, the flash, the arrow + I like a lot of other fandoms that are dead/were never really fandoms/I enjoy the films but I’m not in the fandom

── .✦N A V I G A T I O N

do not interact. tagging system.

kintypes. credits.

[shadows-of-0time]

I just had this idea and now I need to share it cause I never realized how much I want it to happen. Anyone know Ferngully and that one specific cave scene? Jason and Danny. I believe that's all I need to say. Good day, good night, I tip my hat to all the dead on main writers.

Edit: here's a link for those who don't know. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEMBID9jTWM&ab_channel=QueIdylle

[primatechnosynthpop]

Was seized by the supernatural urge to redraw some of my old nkotr art (mostly based on my own fics/aus because that's uhh pretty much the only time I drew them in an interesting way heheh)

[ID: two versions of an alternate cover image for Your Computer has a Virus, and it's Killing Your Online Friends. The new kids are in their jumpsuits from Computer Fighters. Neil is holding a floppy disk labeled "virus" and looking over his shoulder with a scared expression as multicoloured glitch effects surround and overtake him. Below this, Kevin grits his teeth and makes a fist while Ryan sadly puts a hand on his shoulder.

The colours in the new piece are more saturated and the glitch effects are done differently, and there's shading. Neil has his helmet, which was missing from the original, Kevin is visibly sweating and his fist is on the other side, and Ryan looks more resigned whereas in the original he has his mouth open. End ID]

[ID: two versions of a piece featuring fantasy versions of the new kids standing in front of a colourful roulette wheel marked with ominous symbols. Kevin is a human fighter, Neil is an elf bard, and Ryan is a tiefling warlock. The dark purple background is lit up with hot pink at the top and bright orange, purple, and green behind each of the guys to contrast their respective colour coding.

The old piece was done in an attempt at a realistic style, while the new version is in the artist's usual more cartoony style. The new kids' poses, expressions, and outfits are all changed to varying degrees; most notably, Neil's elf ears are bigger and Ryan's skin is red rather than a human skin tone. Ryan also has a cape instead of a jacket this time. In the original, they all look rather apprehensive, while in the new version they look more excited. Text has been added above them reading "The Only Lich Lair... With A Wheel!!" End ID]

[ID: two versions of a piece where Neil and Ryan are catboys and Kevin is a dogboy. Neil is in a cutesy pose with his hands raised like paws, Ryan is sitting or crouching with a dead mouse in his mouth, and Kevin is holding a football with scuff marks on it. In addition to the regular clothes they're wearing, Neil and Kevin have collars; Neil's has a bell in the shape of the lemon demon logo.

The colours in the original are washed out and there's a little dog logo on Kevin's football which is missing in the newer version. The colours of Neil's outfit are different and his leg is bent more, Ryan now has a box to sit on and has cat pupils while the others still have human eyes, and Kevin is now wearing a baseball cap. A gradiented blue background has been added along with yellow text at the top reading "Guar-NYAN-teed Video", with a paw print in place of the G*V logo's asterisk. End ID]

+ a couple bonuses:

[ID: a follow-up to the "Only Lich Lair" piece. The new kids are now injured and look miserable. Kevin has grown a beard and lost his hair, and is wearing a blindfold over where his eyes would be. He's also lost his armour. Neil's hair is frazzled and he's covered in singe marks, and he's lost a hand and got a chunk taken out of one ear. His instrument is also missing. Ryan has an eyepatch, has the tip of one horn taken off, and is frozen. He's also lost his wizard hat and the clasp for his cape. The bright lights in the background are gone save for the pink at the top, which drips down like blood; the text is also removed. End ID]

[ID: a sketch of Kevin wearing a sweater and scarf, holding half a broken sword shouting angrily, based on a scene from I'm Gonna be the Anti-Hero. An old version of this doodle is shrunken down in the upper left corner. Colour has been added to the new version, as well as blood spatter on Kevin and tears in his eyes. End ID]

[ccfever]

I’m so bored by the angel vs Caitlin stuff even if it is good for the league bc I do not enjoy watching angel or sky play except for when Chennedy is going off and even then I don’t really watch. Sky v fever games are fun though. I’m looking to the future which is Aja vs Caitlin but even Aja didn’t have to beat maya at prime goat status because maya quit the race man. and also as for paige vs Caitlin which moves me a bit bc it’s for the new gen and something cute for the younger TikTok viewers I need Caitlin to dead that shit once and for all when she gets to the league because even final four did nothing bc it was really Hannah’s game. I am so annoyed at UConn fans STILL going off even after that embarrassment of a game saying wait till paige reminds you her injury made yall forget… like forget WHAT I remember watching Caitlin her freshman year with a lame ass team (I love yall) or aari McDonald both deadass have just as good of a season if not a better season than paige and I remember even lamecocks complaining that paige got all the coverage and Caitlin got none in comparison. Hilarious to think about now

first of all thank you for the essay second of all i agree 👍

the sky do not play a style that moves me but carter going off especially against the aces was entertaining. that’s the only sky game i watched that’s not against the fever and i did just because i found it interesting that they were leading. i’m always on fraud watch for top teams

that being said yeah i don’t really care for any of the ROTY stuff anymore because they set angel up so bad by making her out to be this generational player that’s gonna be the magic to caitlin’s bird when in truth caitlin is magic and bird combined. she’s jordan, she’s lebron, she’s steph. just one of those undisputed great players that you can’t help but tip your hat to. now we have people undermining both these rookies’ accomplishments just to one-up the other when it was never really like that.

as for paige... her fans have bigger fish to fry. sorry but that debate has been over for years. if she goes off then good for her. but my rook is in a different stratosphere now and i don’t really care if her fans want to say she’s a better player. if she is then good for you. but if you want to compare college career résumés, the data is there. next year she’ll get drafted to the wnba, and y’all can compare her numbers to caitlin’s numbers this year if y’all want.

but idgaf. my sights are set on this offseason and the moves we can make to get this team rolling because i genuinely believe with a defensive guard and some 3&D wings we can make a finals push next year.

and, of course, with a good head coach lmfao

that’s where my mind’s at right now. idgaf about all that other shit, but hey. good for them ig

[mirandamckenni1]

I employ my boyfriend. Here’s what it’s like. FIND OUT HOW TO WIN A KNITTED HAT: https://youtu.be/ToeuXvftASw?si=C3kj7Slk52nT8v05 SUBSCRIBE TO CRAIG'S CHANNEL: https://www.youtube.com/@CraigSimmonds/videos TIMESTAMPS: 00:00 Intro 01:30 Movies 03:30 Books 06:45 Moving to the Midlands / starting to work together 13:00 Partner / employee relationship 21:19 Deep Leena lore 23:26 Keeping long-term relationship interesting 30:10 Craig is a simp 30:17 Not wanting kids from male perspective 32:55 Having a crush on somebody else 36:00 Sustainability compromises in relationship 38:05 Quick photography tips 39:00 Craig YT channel 41:00 Personal style after hair loss 43:49 Craig when he had hair 49:24 How to win the hat Leena is knitting /// SUPPORT /// JOIN THE GUMPTION CLUB: https://ift.tt/sExONcB Being in the club means you get: a free weekly podcast, access to a secret facebook group, a free poetry collection and play written by me, access to livestreams AND you get to access to all my videos before anyone else sees them! CHANNEL MEMBERSHIP - for those lovely people who don't want to use Patreon and aren't bothered about the patreon perks, but who'd like to buy me a drink as a thank you for the free videos... https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCpqf-UHCeCSd0BqoxxrDv8g/join Nab yourself a POSITIVE PANIC PATCH: https://ift.tt/NUchK8Q ORDER my poetry collection, BARGAIN BIN ROM-COM! https://ift.tt/2JBA6hd // COME AND HANG WITH ME IN BETWEEN UPLOADS // Listen to my podcast, NO BOOKS ON A DEAD PLANET: https://ift.tt/Mz57CXc IF NEWSLETTERS ARE YOUR THING, sign up to get a little letter in your inbox from me once in a while! As a thank you for signing up, you’ll get a FREE downloadable list of my best books of all time: https://ift.tt/v0kDrl1 INSTAGRAM: https://ift.tt/nt2YzDl TWITTER: https://twitter.com/leenanorms I use Octopus Energy which are a clean green sustainable energy company - if you're in the UK and are curious, here are the two videos I talk about them in: https://youtu.be/O0TR7RvVRlI and https://youtu.be/IEqf94lb44U And here's my referral link if you'd like to get £50 off (I get £50 off too, woo!) https://ift.tt/kFmDLwR All music used is licensed through Epidemic Sound - I've been using them for years and hand-on-heart it's really fab. You get unlimited use of their music per month for a pretty bargain fee. Here's my referral link (if you sign up through it I get a free month): https://ift.tt/WsTcIqL If you're a company that makes plastic-free products, pays their tax and doesn't exploit people, I'd love to hear from you if you'd like to sponsor the channel: leenanorms@gmail.com via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CIb1xW-Zwk

[themovieblogonline]

One True Loves Review

One True Loves features Simu Liu (Shang-Chi And The Legend Of The Ten Rings), Phillipa Soo (Hamilton), and Luke Bracey (Point Break) star in this modern twist on a classic love story from NY Times bestselling author Taylor Jenkins Reid. Emma and Jesse are living the perfect life together until Jesse disappears in a tragic helicopter crash on their first wedding anniversary. Four years later, Emma has found happiness again and is about to marry her best friend when Jesse resurfaces, turning her world upside down and leaving her torn between two great loves. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=87EeZG2n2po Can I take a moment to just acknowledge everyone who's ever been trapped in the friend zone? This movie is for you. The Good The premise itself is just downright mesmerizing. I instantly relate to a situation I've never been in just on the concept. What would you do if you were married, that person died, and you met someone else just to find out your dead spouse isn't dead and wants you back??? That's an instant problem I think that everyone can empathize with even if we can't directly relate. I love this story concept a lot. I had a good time seeing how Emma handles this situation and the emotional conflict within her heart. There's so much to consider especially with time. Her husband is missing for years so what is the correct way to react to his sudden re-appearance?   One True Loves starts off really strong. I tip my hat to the production team for some strong direction and great performances here. The movie starts off very strong giving us a good view of the lives of Emma and Jesse's perfect life. Now, this is the type of life people dream of when young of an endless vacation with a loved one. I had a lot of fun watching Emma's love triangle develop with Jesse and Sam. One True Loves quickly brings us up to speed on Emma and Jesse's high school romance. It grows organically and continues into adulthood and results in marriage. I really feel great about their romance and I understand their attraction in a relatable way. One True Loves excels at being a romantic comedy with extra emphasis on comedy. This is no surprise as director Andy Fickman has a history of directing comedic films and the cast in this movie is very adaptable. Sam (Simu Liu) is incredibly funny in this movie and delivers some of the best jokes and visual gags in the entire movie. You could carve out his moments in the movie and have a believably funny sitcom but we get a sitcom in a movie. Michaela Conlin plays Emma's sister Marie and makes for a great one-two combo of comedy with Sam. She brings some well-timed dry humor and injects them into some otherwise emotionally heavy moments. There's a scene in the movie where she apologizes to Emma for convincing her to give up on her dead husband that had me in tears. The Bad The editing was rough. There are moments in the movie where scenes only last for a few seconds before transitioning to another scene. Unfortunately, the actors are giving some really good performances that are cut short. A few moments are really touching on some deep emotions that could be explored further but aren't. What undercuts this transition is that these scenes of deeply sad emotion get cut away to scenes that tell a quick gag and then switch back to the heavy emotion. the movie could have used some more time to let Phillipa do her thing. Some of the jokes don't land as well as intended. It's a combination of bad editing and some poorly delivered humor. There's a moment where we see Sam walk into the teachers' lounge at his job in a predictable joke. The main issue is that the scene undercuts one of the more emotional moments in the movie with Emma and her husband. Overall One True Loves is an adorably funny movie that had me laughing throughout the movie. Phillipa Soo is outstanding in this movie and flexes a lot of emotional range in her performance. I would have loved to see more of her scenes extended a bit longer. There are too many moments where Phillipa is acting her ass off but these scenes get cut short. Simu Liu is a highlight and delivers some of the funniest moments in the movie. I would have liked to understand this music teacher could just hijack his students for any given reason! One moment he's using them to impress Emma on a date and another moment he's unloading his emotional dilemma's on them during the school day.   I also can't help but wonder why didn't Sam have any adult friends he could talk to? Read the full article

[lonely-lost-soul]

Under The Floorboards pt. IIII

(Technoblade X Reader): Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII, Pt. V

Whipping the sweat off your brow you placed the honey jars you collected on the ground, Phil really built this farm efficiently. However, that didn’t stop you needing to collect honey pots here and there, now that the vault was complete you could actually use the honey for normal things. Technoblade would never admit it but he loved when you put honey in his tea, contrary to popular belief he wasn’t a fan of plain black tea or coffee. You rolled up your sleeves and adjusted the sunhat that sat lazily on your head against your better judgment you had left your armor inside. The only thing on your person was a netherite ax Techno had enchanted for you, it was an effective weapon but without your armor, you were a bit of a sitting duck. As the bees buzzed and bumped lazily into each other, you couldn’t help but smile fondly at the sight. They were just so silly. You picked up the crate of jars and turned around, your eyes narrowed as you saw some movement by the trees, it was still too early for Tommy and Technoblade to be back...so just who was snooping around the property. You felt very naked in your sun hat and overalls, especially if it was Dream himself that you were about to encounter. Your worry only increased as you noticed four men all in netherite armor walking towards the house, their swords were drawn. You had a feeling that these were the men who took Technoblade the day prior. They were like a little gang all dressed the same way, bloody aprons and all they really had the executioner vibes down. 

    “Hello, gentlemen.” You smiled giving them a wave while you adjusted the box of honey, “beautiful day isn’t it?” 

The first to answer was a man who had a scar from the tip of his eyebrow down to the bottom of his lip. He sent you a smile and you noticed a tooth missing from the upper row, a navy blue beanie held his dark hair in place. 

    “Very beautiful, it’s always a good day when the sun is shining.” He mused the sun in question reflected beautifully across all their netherite armor. The one thing you decided to leave inside, you weren’t intimidated nope not at all. “What’s your name sweetheart?”

    “(Y/N).” You responded with a hum, “Is there something that I can help you all with today?” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed two of the men moved to surround you, they thought they were slick. The only one who didn’t move was the tallest of the children there, he looked to be half Enderman. He also looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was right now poor thing. Drawing your gaze back to the other three men, you noticed one was Tommy’s age and had small horns atop his head, along with goat-like ears. A burn scar also took up half of his face. It made you frown distastefully, what was with these kids getting traumatized? First Tommy and now the half enderman and the goat kid, you couldn’t adopt all of them, well you could but it’d be a lot of work. The other looked to be part fox after all the big orange ears and the fluffy tail was dead give away, wait didn’t Ghostbur say his son was a fox. “Are you Fundy?” You asked, suddenly tilting your head to the side.

    “How do you know my name?” Fundy’s face flushed a little and he shuffled on his feet, his hand twitching to grab the sword that was at his side. 

    “I talked to your father earlier today. I’m assuming that’s how you found me?” You took the hat off your head and rested it on Carl’s stable. The fox gave a reluctant nod of confirmation you licked your lips and put your hands behind your back. “So? Do you have a problem with Technoblade or just me specifically?”

    “Wow, she’s not even a little bit ashamed.” Quackity mused and you frowned, “We’re here because your boyfriend blew up our country. He also disgraced our President right Tubbo? Don’t know if you’re aware of that or not but he escaped his punishment. So we intend to make him repent.” He walked towards you and you took a step away from him. 

    “That’s far enough thank you.” You held up your hand in hopes it would stop his trek towards you, Quackity did pause for a moment. He let out a chuckle and smiled. He thought your tough attitude was cute, but he was clearly mocking you. 

Jackass. 

    “Quackity maybe we should leave her be...she didn’t do anything.” The young goat kid murmured his ears flicking as he looked up at you. 

    “Quiet Tubbo. Let the adults speak,” Quackity snapped at him before clearing his throat and looking back at you. “Listen (Y/N) was it? We’re going to have to ask that you come with us. If you don’t we’ll have to take you by force.”

    “Wait, couldn't Technoblade have trained her?” The half enderman spoke holding up his finger in the air but no one seemed to pay him any attention. 

    “I guess force it is. Although the fight is a little unfair.” You took out your ax and twirled it in your hand, “Something tells me you don’t exactly like fair fights.” Fundy took a hesitant step backward not really wanting to lose a life for this of all things, but he pulled out his sword just in case. Clicking your tongue in distaste you sent a bloodthirsty smile their way, one that rivaled Technoblade, “Come at me.” 

Without hesitation, Quackity charged at you with his sword he didn’t aim to kill, just disarm or injure. You blocked the swing with the wooden part of your ax and spun around just in time to dodge an attack from Tubbo. You managed to elbow him in the back and he stumbled forward into Quackity, the man made a grunting sound before shoving Tubbo off of him and into the snow. Fundy moved next and managed to land a hit on the side of your arm, you hissed loudly glaring daggers at the fox. His ears pressed against his head and he let out a small whimper, “sorry!”

    “Don’t apologize to her!” Quackity groaned, “You guys are the worst gang ever.” He slapped his forehead as you readjusted your posture, “I have to do everything myself.” Quackity snarled charging at you again you sidestepped out of the way. As he stumbled trying to regain himself he knocked over the honey pots and they shattered against the ground. You swung your ax and managed to land a hit on him in the back of the legs, he let out a strangled yelp and fell on his face into the snow like Tubbo had done earlier. Yanking out the ax out of the leader of the gang blood splattered all over the ground and stained the snow. Little red beads dripped off the ax as you held it by your side, the man only let out another scream as it was torn out of him. 

    “Back. Off.” You repeated again baring your teeth with a hiss, “Turn around and go back to L’manburg and I won’t kill you. Got it.”  The ax was pointed at all of them, you saw the half enderman nod vigorously, 

    “Yes ma’am.” He nodded rapidly grabbing Tubbo and Fundy by the arm and pulled them back, the three of them watched as Quackity snarled and backed up to join them. You watched them cower and you dropped your ax on the ground so you could press the palm of your hand into the wound on your arm. You quickly turned and ran back into your home to collect bandages and fix yourself up, blood speckled the floor as you made your way into the bathroom. You tore off your overalls and shirt, washing out the wound before wrapping your arm in bandages. You didn’t know how long you stood there in front of the mirror but you looked worse for wear. 

Technoblade was going to lose his shit.

---

All Technoblade could think about on their way back to his retirement home, was you. He could only put up with Tommy for so many hours until he needed to talk to literally anyone else. He was ready to get your relaxing date night underway; he could already feel your fingers running through his hair braiding his as you went. He hummed fondly listening as the voices called him simp repeatedly, he didn’t mind this time considering he was when it came to you. 

    “That’s still cringe chat.” He murmured to himself as Tommy continued to scream about something in the background, “Yeah, yeah I love her.” He heard the chat flip their shit and he fondly chuckled, intermixed with their happy cries there was a distinct sound of ‘E’ as well as ‘nerd.’ He almost didn’t hear Tommy’s worried shouting. He frowned and rolled his eyes back into his skull, 

    “What Tommy?” 

    “Technoblade! Technoblade!” The teen bumped back into him, Technoblade grunted and looked down at him. He followed Tommy’s eyes and spotted the blood littered snow outside his house. Technoblade paused and his vision went red around the edges, his eyes stayed trained on the bloodstains as the voices began to roar within his skull. His head shot up and he saw the honey box spilled over on the ground, glass littered the snow, your hat hanging loosely on Carl’s old stable. 

     “T-Technoblade.” Tommy stuttered again looking up at the pig-man, seeing how glazed over his eyes looked. He swore steam was coming out of Technoblade’s nose and his hand drew out his pickaxe gripping it so tight his knuckles turned white. He felt his tusks grow in size and his face began to shift into his pig form. Tommy’s voice was drowned out by the flood that was the voices in his head: 

‘SHE’S GONE. THEY HAVE HER. KILL THEM ALL. BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD. WE DEMAND BLOOD. E. SAVE HER. YOU’RE A FAILURE. YOU DIDN’T PROTECT HER. SLAUGHTER ALL OF THEM. SHE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. SHE NEVER HURT ANYBODY. YOU BROKE YOUR PROMISE. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.’ 

Technoblade took a step forward to which Tommy rapidly backed up in response. He’s never seen Techno this gone before, oh shit he has it bad for (Y/N). However, Tommy didn’t make a move to stop Technoblade; he didn’t want him to release that rage on him. Technoblade walked into the house, stepping on his glasses that fell off his face. He threw his door open with a loud slam, he needed potions and he needed a new sword. 

Whoever did this all their cannon lives were gone he’d make it long and torturous.

A soft voice broke him out of his stupor his entire body went rigid. 

    “Bubs…” He slowly turned around and came face to face with you, you looked so small, so delicate standing in the doorway. You were wearing your pajamas, soft blue with little sheep all over them. His ears twitched and his shoulders softened considerably seeing you standing safe in the doorway, however, he tensed again the minute he saw the bandages tied around your arm. Blood leaking through them, he growled eyes locking in on the spot as you made soft shushing sounds at him. 

‘SHE’S HURT. SHE’S ALIVE THOUGH. BUT SHE’S HURT, THEY NEED TO PAY. ATONE FOR WHAT THEY DID TO HER. BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD. SPILL THEIR BLOOD THEN MAKE OUT WITH HER. SHE’LL LOVE YOU MORE IF YOU DO. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.’

Technoblade jumped feeling her hand caress his cheek, “Bubs it’s alright I’m okay.” Your voice was smooth and soothing, his eyes dilated as you spoke to him. His face shifting back to normal as he breathed heavily through his nose, “See?” You brought his head down to rest against your chest, it looked uncomfortable the way that he was bending. However, he could feel your heart beating in your chest, he made a soft whimper and grabbed onto your shoulders his pink hair tickled your chin. You brought your hands up to run his fingers through his hair as he finally calmed down enough to ignore the voices for the time being. Right now they were just commenting on how nice and warm her hands were anyway.

    “What happened to you? There was blood everywhere I was so scared.” His voice broke a little bit as he pulled away from you. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest Technoblade had never looked so broken. 

    “The butcher squad came and attacked me. They wanted to use me to get to you but I fought them off just like you taught me.” You couldn’t help but smile proudly at him and he let out a disbelieving laugh. His hands moved from your shoulders to your back as he cradled you gently in his arms, you both stood there rocking back and forth together until Technoblade was satisfied. 

    “That’s my girl.” He finally murmured backing away from you, you flushed at the compliment. Whenever he called you that it made you flush all over, you let out a loud flustered whine and whacked him on the chest. Technoblade laughed at your flustered expression, it was a rare moment the tables were flipped like this and Technoblade was going to take full advantage of the situation. “Princess what’s with that look? Am I, thee Technoblade, making you flustered? I know I’m a lot to handle, I beat Dream once, I never die, I’m not homeless. Guess what?” 

    “What?” You couldn’t help but let out a giggle as he circles you eyeing you up and down. 

    “I’m single.” 

    “Oh really?” You cocked an eyebrow, “I thought you had a girlfriend.” You twirled your hair around your fingers and you felt his strong hands rest on your waist. 

    “Hm I don’t think so. You might need to refresh my memory,” Technoblade mused kissing your neck tenderly. 

    “Well she’s stunningly gorgeous, and tough as nails,” Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned back against him. “She absolutely adores you and how protective you are of her, and how much of a gentle giant you are.” He made a noise of protest and rested his chin on the top of your head. You could tell he was pouting at you, 

    “See, not only is that super cringe but also factually incorrect. I am not a gentle giant, I just committed vast sums of minor terrorism and I also kill orphans so what would my girlfreind say to that huh?” He huffed clicking his tongue distastefully. 

    “She would say that you’re right but also she sees the way you take care of Carl, and how you put up with Tommy. You’re totally brothers. That makes you at least a little bit soft” 

    “Not brothers and I don’t like him.” 

    “Right sure,” You giggled a little and kissed his chin lightly. 

Technoblade let out an indignant sound before muttering, “Oh we should probably tell Tommy you aren’t kidnapped. Also discuss what to do about L’manburg now that they know you exist.” You blocked out that last part and made a beeline outside to find Tommy. The teenager in question was fumbling with his hands over by his cobblestone tower, you ran over to him and engulfed him in a hug. 

    “(Y/N)!” He shouted letting out a disbelieving laugh hugging you back with a childish smile. “You’re okay! Holy fuck I totally thought you were dead and shit! Technoblade was going fucking apeshit! His face went all pig like n’ shit totally thought he was gonna kill everyone for you! Not that I was worried.” He added quickly shoving you away crossing his arms. 

    “Of course you weren’t THE Tommy is never worried.” 

    “Yeah exactly Miss Blade you get me.” You smiled fondly at him and you ruffled his hair and he shouted at you to stop. You did so sensing Technoblade approach the both of you, Techno interlocked your hand with his own and squeezed it tightly. “You chill now Big T?” 

    “I’m always chill Tommy. Only nerds aren’t chill.” He mused with a scoff, “Hence why I always call you a nerd.” 

    “WHAT THE FUCK TECHNOBLADE! I AM ALWAYS CHILL! I’M THE CHILLEST MAN ALIVE I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW!” 

    “Stop shouting,” Technoblade groaned burying his face in your hair as you laughed fondly at their antics. Although L’manburg knew about your existence now, and although you knew Dream probably wasn’t too far behind in learning that knowledge either, you felt everything was going to be okay. 

All you needed was each other, Technoblde, Tommy, Phil and you. Together you four were gonna do great things, you just knew it.

~~~

I do plan on making another part because people seem to be enjoying this story a lot more than I originally thought when I first posted it. Which is amazing thank you for all the love and support! New stuff is also in the works, thanks again for reading and enjoying! Stay safe guys! 🥰✨

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 16 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Title: Succession Chapter 16

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader

Rating: NC-17 for sex and language (doggystyle, P in V, creampie, unprotected sex *wrap it up, kids*)

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter 16

The distant rhythmic horn deep in the factory sounded when Heisenberg slid open the front door.  Four quick sounds from the alarm were heard before it went quiet.  Heisenberg didn’t seem phased by it so you weren’t either.  You entered the factory and waited as he slid the door closed and locked it behind him.  He placed his hammer and the scrap metal off to the side against the wall.

“Thank you for taking me to see Salvatore,” you said, falling into step next to him as the two of you began the trek back to his living quarters.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, placing his hand on the small of your back, allowing you to walk one step ahead of him.  The touch made your pulse quicken, as it always did anytime Heisenberg touched you.  Whether soft and reassuring or rough and primal, his touch always elicited some kind of reaction from your body.

You shrugged out of your coat after opening the door to Heisenberg’s room.  Letting the coat fall across your suitcase next to your nightstand, you turned and saw him leaning against the kitchen area, his gaze on you.  He lifted his hand and removed his sunglasses, placing them on the counter.

“What?” you asked softly, turning your body to face him.

“You’re a very kind person,” Heisenberg responded bluntly, taking off his hat as he walked to the table across the room.  He let it fall to the tabletop, his eyes still focused on you.  “You didn’t owe Moreau an explanation.  You didn’t have to give him any trinket or token of affection...but you wanted to.  It was important to you that he knew you weren’t upset.  That speaks volumes of your character…”

He crossed the room and stood before you, his gloved hands coming to rest on either side of your face.  Your eyes fluttered closed as his thumbs slid back and forth across your cheeks.  Your heart rate increased.  When you opened your eyes, Heisenberg’s gaze was soft,  magnetic, and piercing.  His eyes were beautiful, the color of amber.  You felt truly seen when he looked at you and it felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Your eyes, Karl…” you began, your hands lifting to his trenchcoat, slowly fisting the lapels, “the way you look at me.  I feel like you can see deep into my soul, as if I can’t keep anything from you.  It scares me.  I fear you’ll see something in me that will make you cast me aside…”

Heisenberg leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours.  “You think I would cast you aside?  You’re amazing, Y/N.  I’m the one that should be fucking terrified of being expendable.  I’m a monster...I’ve experimented on bodies, desecrated graveyards...all for my own blind focus on vengeance.  If there is a heaven, I’m not getting in…”

You shook your head slightly, still keeping your forehead to his.  “You were kidnapped, pulled from your family, and used by a woman unhinged from reality.  You didn’t ask for any of this.  Anybody would want revenge if they were in your shoes…”

You watched as a single tear slid down his cheek.  Your heart broke for him.  When was the last time he had allowed himself to be vulnerable?  Was there anyone over the years that had provided him companionship like this?  You weren’t naive; he had been alive for decades.  There had to have been at least one person in the village that warmed his bed at some point.  Did he love them?  Were they still alive?  How well did they get to know him?  

“Y/N…” he whispered against your lips.  You let out a soft moan as he kissed you.  The kiss was tender and you could feel the ridge of the scar on his lower lip.  His fingers wrapped around to the back of your head, his mouth pressing harder to yours.  You could feel the rising desperation in his kiss.  It was a feeling you fiercely reciprocated.

He growled as he walked you back to the bed and gently laid you down, his lips never leaving yours.  Your arms wrapped around his neck, your thighs spreading wide to accommodate his body on yours.  The trinkets around his neck pressed to your chest, digging into your skin painfully.  As if sensing your discomfort, he pulled away and sat up on his knees, removing the objects.  You looked up at him as he removed his gloves and trenchcoat.  His eyes never left you.  They roamed over your body as he unbuttoned his shirt.

The feeling in your chest was intense...and scary.  You felt something for this man.  It was evident and obvious to both of you.  The question was...did he feel the same?

Heisenberg dropped his buttoned up shirt and undershirt to the floor and leaned over you, kissing you deeply.  His teeth knocked against yours as desperation sunk in.  Your tongue slid against his.  Your fingers tangled in his hair and your body arched into him.  He moaned in a way you had never heard come from him before.  It was desperate, needy, and anguished.

“God dammit, Y/N...what are you doing to me?” he asked as he pushed your shirt up to your chest.  His mouth went to your stomach, kissing all along your skin.  You moaned his name and watched as his lips and tongue worshipped you.  His beard tickled, making your stomach tremble.  You pursed your lips together and whimpered, your hands running through his hair.

What was this you were feeling?  As the days passed, you realized that you didn’t think much about rescue.  You didn’t worry about when or how you could get back home.  The inheritance that was waiting for you in Moldova no longer seemed like life or death to obtain.  All you wanted was Karl Heisenberg and you wanted to be with him every moment of every day.

You pulled your shirt over your head and arched your back to unclasp your bra.  Heisenberg’s hands slid up your stomach and palmed your naked breasts as he continued his kisses on your stomach.  You moaned loudly, tilting your head back into the bed.  “Don’t stop, Karl,” you pleaded.

He kissed up to your right breast and sunk his teeth into the soft skin.  His tongue licked along the bite marks, kissing gently, giving you the perfect amount of pain and pleasure.  Impatient for more of him against you, you moved your hands to his pants, unbuckling his belt and undoing his trousers.  Your heavy breathing was further accelerated by his desperate kisses and touches.

He pulled away and stood to his feet, removing his boots and his pants.  You reached down and undid your jeans, shoving them and your panties down your hips.  Heisenberg assisted you with your shoes and your clothing, letting them fall to the floor.  

You sat up on your elbows, looking up at him.  His chest rose and fell steadily as he looked at your naked body on his bed.  You were beautiful, sexy, and delectable...and he would do whatever it took to keep you safe and protected.

Leaning forward, he gripped your hips and swiftly flipped you onto your stomach.  He lifted your body and maneuvered you towards the pillows, lying you down amongst them.  You arched your ass against him as he draped his body over yours, kissing along your shoulder blades.

“Y/N…” he murmured against your skin, “...oh fuck, Y/N…”  You trembled, your cheek pressed into the pillow as he pushed your legs apart with his knees.  You could feel his cock between your legs as he grinded against you, desperate for your cunt.  Your hand went between your legs, searching blindly for his cock.  Grazing the tip with your fingers, you guided it to your pussy and pushed him inside.

“FUCK!” Heisenberg growled into your shoulder, pushing swiftly into you.  Your lips parted and you closed your eyes, reveling in the feel of his girth stretching you wide.  Your hands pressed to the bed, your fingers spread wide.  His teeth bit your skin as both of his hands found yours, holding you down, fingers interlacing.

The front of his body pressed to your back as he rocked in and out of your wet pussy.  It was intimate, sensual...the pleasure almost more than you could bear.  It felt as if his fingers had your heart tight in its grip.  There was no denying it...you were falling in love with him.

“Karl...Karl...please…” you whispered.

Heisenberg’s lips pressed to your cheek, his breath hot on your skin.  “I’ve got you, pussycat,” he murmured, “I’ve got you…”  Tears leaked from your eyes as you cried out, clenching your pussy around his length.  He moaned loudly, his hips thrusting faster.

You and he moaned in unison as he fucked you into the bed.  Your clit rubbed against the sheets and you felt your senses going into overdrive.  He moved back to your shoulder blades, pressing his forehead against you as he fucked you desperately.

“Y/N...oh fuck...fuck…” he panted, feeling his orgasm climbing.  He never wanted to let you go.  You belonged to him.  He would kill every monster in the village to ensure your safety.  He would sell his soul to keep you nestled to him in his bed.  The aching in his chest at the thought of losing you was incredible.  He was falling in love with you just as you were with him.

“Karl...make me cum...please...fuck me…” you pleaded.  His hands gripped yours tighter, his hips hammering down onto yours.  You were close...so close…  The rising of your orgasm felt like your body was going to explode.  You needed to cum soon...for him...always for him.

“Cum for me...now...right now…” he ordered, pressing your hands to the mattress.  The bed creaked as his hips melded to yours.  He was groaning into your skin, beads of sweat sliding from his brow and falling onto your back.  He lifted his body and looked down at the side of your face.  He watched in awe as your eyes went wide and your mouth dropped open.  You screamed his name.

You moaned loudly and desperately, clenching his cock as you gave in to your pleasure.  You came quickly, squealing over and over.  He felt your body tremble under him and in seconds, he came inside of you, his shouts echoing in the room.

The both of you struggled to catch your breath, your chests rising and falling.  Heisenberg slowly pressed his body to yours, his lips kissing along your ear.  Aftershocks shook your bodies, eliciting squeaks from your mouth and breathy chuckles from his.

“Y/N…” he whispered in your ear, your body shivering from his breath, “...I...I…”

He couldn’t say the words he wanted to say.  It felt too soon.  He feared you would be caught off guard, or worse, not reciprocate them.  

“What is it, Karl?” you asked, tilting your head back towards him.

“Nothing,” he whispered, releasing your hands and pushing his arms under your body, hugging you tight.  He rolled onto his side, pulling you with him, his cock still inside of you.  You lifted your top leg and slung it back over his legs, arching your butt back in order to keep him fully sheathed in your pussy.  You closed your eyes and smiled as Heisenberg held you tight and peppered kisses along your neck.

[sothischickshe]

#I'm relatively pro the show sinking the minnie ship...

....................................................

I.....................

I'm sorry but I can't let you say that

HOW DARE YOU????? 😱😱😱😭😭😭👀👀👀

Stdfghhtth, I mean i think it's a pretty clear statement 😂💅

Although this was in the context of: ...TO POINT OUT THAT NANNIE'S RIGHT THERE

I mean, I enjoyed the mick & annie dynamic, I err more towards enjoying/reading it as platonic, espec bc it initially had pretty big spares-pairing energy to me, but also and mostly bc annie/nancy IS THE otp 🤡

I'm deffo a multishipper at heart: you sold me on diannie, I sold myself on annie/the lady from Ben's school who was CLEARLY flirting with annie (are you😉 dating anyone😉 who could help pay😉😉), annie/Angela would have resolved the Kevin🔪🔪🔪🔪 stuff delightfully, I can easily be talked into annie/jt (they both need to sort their music taste out ooof), im probs more invested in annie & greggg platonically than anything else but they're kinda cute so go on and sell me, I was initially not that into annie/rhea but I will hear arguments, the short shrift paid to annie & Ruby's friendship in s4 turned me into a spiteful annie/Ruby shipper etc etc etc...

BUT! annie & Nancy's dynamic is so complex and layered and meaty 😭😭😭 Beth & rio had to do so much weird shooty kidnappy stuff to get NEAR their angst levels tbh! AND the thing that really bummed me out about s3 was the fallout from the annie-nancy-gregggg 🔼 being focused on annie + terrible therapist instead of the 🔼 itself really, but then s4 really did a lot to make up for that!! 😱🥰 There was so much annie-nancy content, & it was truly about them repairing their relationship, & that was NOT a magic wand fix, & the thread of their relationship felt like it was so important to Annie's growth, & I really did feel the need to go clown shoe fitting... Honk honk honk yknow

I did kinda feel like I could enjoy annie/mick as the beta couple vs beth/rio at some point in s4 (much chiller kidnappings; way less irritating convos; lady encouraged to eat food etc), especially after being beaten down by all the annie/terrible therapist & annie/Kevin content 🙃

While I think the choice to have annie & mick bond, and then mick ~betray her w/o explanation was kinda...odd, i don't think it's too difficult to fill in the dots. Say, nick has leverage over mick (potentially involving his kid), or (my fave) mick got increasingly annoyed at rio & Beth over the course of s3 & s4 and went full betrayal😈, ha. & I think annie + mick post canon resolution could be v fun, but equally i could be VERY into intensely mercenary (and only competent chess master!) mick ngaf 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️ (especially in combo with annie not clocking oh another MANipulation maybe???)

I think the fact that mick is working with nick is actually seeded in reasonably well across s4 (I mean why else is he available for middle of the night tagging or random intimidations etc etc), although rio himself apparently not noticing this fact is Wild/hilarious... Like, I'll fully believe he's too drunk to realise that mick is actually his nick-installed supervisor, sure 🍻🍻🍻

I deffo think the mick shooting Beth thing was kinda rushed (and her collapsing a bit of a lazy audience fake out) & the minorish impact of the shoulder wound would have worked better with Beth receiving the gut punch of Annie's arrest (though I can understand why they wouldn't want to end on that also). But overall I think my biggest issue is we don't really know where this rio-nick struggle for mick's affection/loyalty/whatever came from, or indeed what the fallout is?!

Tbh i initially read the blah blah he's not on your payroll any more as mick being dead, but actually it's probs funnier to assume that rio's response to a possible rat is swift murder vs his response to any actual violent betrayal is essentially a hat tip pgfghhhh

Overall, I'm just not that fussed about the annie/mick sinkage, maybe if mick had actually done me a solid and wounded doc whosit and/or terrible Kevin, I'd have it in me to care more 🤷🏼‍♀️ Idk that I think the show was actually writing towards annie/nancy endgame lmao (though leave me to my delusions 😂🎀🤡 ha) but through a certain lens it does feel like the show was trying to beat you over the head with the fact that annie/men was a terrible combo, and a storyline where annie came out ages after her son could have been really lovely and realistic ❤️ (it also WOULD result in hilarious grudging annie-dean friendship, but that's by the by).

[thesightstoshowyou]

Bo Sinclair x F Reader (NSFW)

           Summary: Bo wants you to pitch in a little more. He gets more than he bargained for.

             Warnings: Dubcon, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, slapping, degradation, facial, swearing, objectification of reader, alcohol use, mentions of death and violence.

 ~~

             “Put this on.”

             You drop the rag in your hands to catch the yellow floral dress before it smacks you in the face. You glare up at Bo from you spot on the linoleum. Your knees ache. You’d been scrubbing grime off the kitchen floor for two hours.

             “What for?” you ask, bracing a hand against the counter to heave yourself to your feet.

             “It’s time you start pullin’ your weight.” You look around you, flabbergasted. What had you been doing all this time, if not ‘pullin’ your weight?’ Cooking and cleaning all day, every day wasn’t enough for him?

             You keep your mouth shut. The answer is obvious. Of course, it isn’t enough. Nothing would be. If it was up to Bo, you would have been dead the first day you walked into this God-forsaken town.

             “Can I at least know what I’m supposed to do? You know, so I do it right?” You adopt a sweeter tone, hoping to quell the sour mood Bo always seemed to be in when he spoke with you.

             “Two college assholes campin’ nearby.” Bo adjusts his hat and crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame before continuing, “They’ll be needin’ a fan belt. Lester is on his way to get ‘em. Need you to bring one up to the house for Vincent while I take care of the other one.”

             What is it with Bo and fan belts?

             Then, the gravity of what he’s said hits you. Instantly, you pale. They’ve never had you participate before. You can’t do it, no way.

             “Bo—

             “You’ll do this, or I’ll make sure the next one on Vincent’s table is you. Got it?” He snarls, leaning forward and shoving a finger in your face. You clench your jaw, hesitantly nodding. What choice do you have?

             “Make yerself decent and meet me at the shop in a half.”

**

             You understand why Bo chose this dress. It’s tight, flaring out at the hips and hanging just halfway down your thighs. Your breasts are almost spilling out the top too. It shouldn’t be hard to lure a ‘college asshole’ up to the house looking the way you do now. You wonder which poor soul wore this dress before they ended up in the museum.

             You think you might be sick.

             As you walk to the shop, the oppressive Louisiana heat beats down on you, making you squint and pant. Sweat beads along your forehead and chest before spilling into your cleavage. You adjust your outfit, hoping to hide a little more skin. You feel exposed. The old wax woman across the street peers disapprovingly out her window. You flip her the bird. Poor old bitch.

             You round the corner to the little gas station, heart hammering. Lester’s truck isn’t there, but you can see three shadows inside the darkened shop window. You fluff up your hair, sucking in a huge breath. You can do this. You have to do this. You don’t have a choice.

             “Hey, Bo, need anything?” You adopt a honeyed southern accent, resting your hands on your hips, your face breaking into a smile. You hope it looks genuine.

             The three men inside turn to look at you. All three are apparently struck dumb by the sight of you. As you lock eyes with Bo, you fight the blush creeping up your neck. Baby blues rake over your body before snapping back to your face. He grins.

             “Hey, sis. Just in time.”

             Sis, huh?

             “These boys need a V-belt. I don’t see any here. You remember if we have any up at the house?”

             “Yeah, we just got some in today,” you chirp, reaching behind you to pull your hair off your dewy neck.

             “Would you mind takin’ one of these two up to the house to get it? I ought to go over cost of repairs here.”

             “Can do.”

             “Dibs!” shouts one of the boys, a tall, lanky thing wearing the stupidest sleeveless shirt you’ve ever seen. ‘Party with Sluts’ it reads. Okay, maybe this won’t be so hard. His friend punches him in the arm and he laughs before sauntering over to you, motioning for you to lead the way.

             “Hey, behave yerself. That’s my lil’ sister.” If you didn’t know Bo, you’d think he was teasing, messing with the kid, but the smirk curling across his face tells you he’s dead serious. No part of that smile reaches his eyes. You do not envy the kid you’re leaving here with him.

             “Bo! Knock it off,” you giggle, pretending to be embarrassed.

             If you were to look back on the conversation you had with the nameless guy you’re leading to his death, you wouldn’t remember a word of it. Your blood rushes too loudly in your ears to hear half of what he’s saying. You just giggle and play with your hair every time he speaks. It seems to be working.

             “Uh, kay, wait here, I’ll just run upstairs and get the belt,” you say a little too loud so Vincent can hear. You leave him at the bottom of the stairs, careful to accentuate the sway of your hips as you climb the steps so he’s distracted.

             Vincent wastes no time. As soon as you make it to the top, you hear a strangled shout, a heavy thud, then nothing. You don’t turn around.

             The second you make it to your room you peel the dress off your sticky skin and hurl it across the room. Desperately, you fight the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and the burn in your throat. You had to. You had to. You can’t die yet, not after everything you’ve been through.

**

             You carefully level off a cup of flour before tipping it into a bowl on the counter. You do the same with the baking powder, salt, baking soda….

             It’s three something in the morning. You haven’t been able to sleep all night. So, you do what you always do when you can’t sleep: You bake cookies.

             You gather up the butter wrappings and head for the trash can. As you move, you catch something out of the corner of your eye and jump in shock, gasping and bracing a hand against your chest.

             Bo leans against the doorway, beer in hand, mechanic suit half off and tied around his waist. He chuckles quietly when you grasp the counter and take a deep breath to steady your racing heart.

             “You scared the shit out of me,” you chide, tossing the wrappings into the garbage. You glance down, noticing your bare legs. Right. You’re only wearing a pair of panties and one of Vincent’s flannels. You didn’t think anyone else would be awake at this hour. Three AM usually found Bo passed out, Lester camping somewhere in his truck, and Vincent toiling away in the basement.  

             “I’ll go put some pants on,” you mumble, moving to leave the kitchen, but Bo extends his arm across the doorway to block your exit.

             “Nah. You look good in my shirt,” he comments, mouth quirking up at the corner in that stupid self-satisfied smirk he always wears. You glance down at the red and black checkered flannel, then back to Bo again.

             “I thought it was Vincent’s. I must have got it mixed up in the wash.” You swallow, looking away. You don’t like how he’s looking at you, like a wolf eyeing an injured lamb. He sets his beer on the top of the fridge.

             “No harm, no foul,” he murmurs, dropping the arm from the doorway to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. You jerk out of his reach, backing away. He follows leisurely, pressuring you until you’re backed up against the counter. He doesn’t stop advancing until his face is inches from yours.

             “Bo,” you mutter, a shaky breath leaving your mouth with his name. You say it like a plea.

             “Yeah?” he purrs, placing both hands on the counter on either side of you, caging you in. He leans in closer, so close you can smell the beer and cigarettes on his breath.

             “Please,” you whisper, voice trembling. He groans quietly under his breath at that.

             “Hmm, say that again, darlin’.” You shake your head, tensing when he reaches up to glide his fingers, feather light, across your jaw. He continues, “I didn’t like the way those fuckers were lookin’ at you today. Not. One. Bit.” He taps you on the nose in time with the last three words.

             “Well, they’re dead now, so….” You trail off, your hammering heart trying to force its way into your throat.

             “Mmm hmm,” he hums, “You did good today, baby. Real good.” You swallow, face heating up, a jolt of arousal sparking between your legs. His voice, the fingers stroking along your collarbone, his words; they’re having an effect on you.

             “Bo,” you beg again, more insistent this time.

             “You don’t like this?” he asks, stepping forward so you’re pressed flush against him. The heat of his body is overwhelming.

             “N-no, please, s—

             Your plea is cut off by the gasp that sneaks from your throat when Bo shoves his hand into your underwear and drags his fingers along your dripping slit. He brings them in front of your face, showing you how your slick shines in the low light of the kitchen.

             “I think you’re a fuckin’ liar,” he purrs, grinning wider, “Open your mouth.” You bite your lip and Bo strikes, gripping your jaw hard. “Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart. You won’t like it.”

             Slowly, you part your lips, opening wider when he shoves his wet fingers in your mouth.

             “Clean ‘em off. That’s a good girl.” You roll his fingers and your own salty taste around on your tongue, sucking on them when he demands it. That pulls another low groan from him.

             “I knew that mouth was good for somethin’.” He pulls his fingers from your lips and pushes them back into your panties. You inhale sharply and bite your lip again when his deft fingers find your clit, circling slowly, torturously.

             “Fuck, you’re wet, baby girl.” The words are whispered against your lips, his warm breath washing over your face. You let out a shaky breath, forcing your hips to stay still and not buck like you want. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

             Bo chuckles against your mouth before dragging your underwear down your legs, kneeling as he goes. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder. Vincent could walk in any minute, or Lester, you’re right there in the open—

             Bo dives in, sucking your clit into his mouth and humming. All your thoughts derail, crash, and burn. Your eyes roll back and you grip the edge of the counter with one hand, the other flying to your mouth to muffle your wanton moan.

             He laughs, dragging his tongue up your slit and lapping at your clit, slow, deliberate licks with the flat of his tongue. You can’t help it this time; you grind your hips into his mouth and he grabs a handful of your ass to pull you closer. He slips two fingers into your sopping cunt, curling them and making you whine pathetically. Jesus Christ, you’re already close.

             “Bo, Bo, Bo, I’m…I’m gonna—

             And then he pulls away. Your frustrated gasp is silenced when Bo slaps the inside of your thigh, hard. It makes you yelp and try to squirm away. He stands and grabs your jaw roughly, squeezing painfully.

             “Uh uh, I don’t fucking think so. Yer gonna cum on my cock and nowhere else, understand?” You nod, skin feeling like it’s on fire. You haven’t been touched like this for six fucking months. You worry you’re going to be consumed by need. You’ll say anything he wants.

             “Oh, ya’ want that now? You want me to fuck ya’?” His lips are wet, shining with your juices, and inches from yours again. He grinds his hard, clothed length against your hip.  

             “Yes,” you slur. It’s hard to talk with his hand squeezing your face so hard.

             “You forget your manners, sweetheart?”

             “Please, Bo, please,” you beg, resisting the urge to jerk your head out of his punishing grip.

             “Good girl,” he praises, spinning you around and bending you over the counter. He tugs your arms behind your back, gripping your forearms with one hand while he frees his cock with the other. It slaps against your ass, hard and heavy.

             In one, smooth motion, he lines up with your entrance and slams home, impaling you. You shriek behind grit teeth. Your walls spasm around the sudden intrusion and you wiggle your hips in an attempt to adjust to the stretch.

             “Ohhh fuck, that’s tight,” he growls in your ear, giving you no time to catch your breath before he’s ramming into you. The wet smack of skin against skin echoes around the kitchen. Every thrust pulls a strangled moan or whimper from your throat as you desperately try to contain your sounds of pleasure and pain. Bo laughs cruelly, hot breath puffing against your ear.

             “What’s the matter, baby? Don’t want anyone hearing you get fucked?” He punctuates the last word with a particularly vicious thrust. You mewl, and Bo wraps his free hand around your throat, pulling until you arch uncomfortably.

             Despite the mean treatment, Bo still manages to push you to the brink of orgasm again, his cock battering that perfect spot within you. You can’t speak well at this angle and with his hand tight around your throat, but he feels you beginning to clench around him, feels your legs trembling violently.

             “Yeah, cum on my cock, sweetheart, c’mon, give it to me, fuck yes, yes, yes—

             You bite your lip so hard you taste the coppery tang of blood on your tongue. Hot pleasure curls through your core, numbing you as you tumble over the edge into bliss. Bo groans in your ear, releasing your neck in favor of digging his nails into your hip.

             “’M gonna cum. Yer gonna—f-fuck—gonna get down on your knees and open that pretty mouth, understand?” Dazed, you nod. Bo pulls out and as you turn around, he shoves you down to your knees so hard they crack against the linoleum. Your pained grunt is interrupted when Bo fists a hand in your hair, yanking your head back.

             “Open yer mouth, stick out yer tongue, yeah, fuck—

             His voice is tense, clipped, his hand pumping his slick cock. He utters a broken moan and you snap your eyes shut as he paints your face, lips, and tongue white.

             “Swallow,” he orders breathlessly. You do as your told, forcing the bitter taste of him down your throat. He hums in approval, releasing your hair. You wipe your face on your sleeve and crack your eyes open to peer up at Bo. His cheeks are flushed pink, sweaty hair clinging to his forehead, chest heaving.

             “Goddamn, you look good like that,” he says, mouth turning up in a crooked grin. After tucking himself away, he helps you to your feet and grabs a nearby washrag to blot away the cum staining your skin. Your legs wobble, your crimson cheeks growing redder the longer he grins at you. Bo smooths your hair back, tucking it neatly behind your ears.

             “There. Good as new.” He swats you on the ass, making you jump in surprise. “Now get to bed. I expect breakfast in the morning, as usual.”  

             What a bastard.

[wiypt-writes]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch7: Old Habits Die Hard

Part 2

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary: It’s the day of Pooch’s wedding, emotions are running high and it all comes to a dramatic conclusion.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language and a whole heap of angst. Smut (NSFW, 18+)

A/N: So here is part 2 of Chapter 7…and it’s explosive! Translation: Chinga tu madre, Cabrón = Go fuck your mother, asshole.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 7 Part 1

Lay your demons at the door, this is what we're fighting for, trying to clear the air but nobody's talking. We've been breathing this disease, trying to find a way to see, but the end is in your eyes, let's finish this tonight.

“What I don’t get,” Jensen looked at the bridesmaid who watched him with rapt attention, twisting a strand of hair round her finger, “is why come to Mexico and not get married on the beach?”

“Well they thought about it, but then Jolene decided she didn’t want to get covered in sand.” The red-head shot back. “So they chose this terrace, it’s kinda on the beach, I mean, you can see the ocean.”

“But if you don’t want to get sandy, why come here in the first place?”

“Because it’s cheaper.” She shrugged.

“So you’re saying Pooch is a cheapskate.” Jensen raised his eyebrow and she hesitated before she shook her head.

“No, that’s…” she began to talk, protesting that wasn’t what she was saying when he heard Roque shout out Stella’s nickname.

“Hey, Arty!”

Jake instantly glanced over his shoulder to look for her, and when he saw her, the air was completely knocked from his lungs.

Her dress was a gorgeous watercolor-like ombre blue. The deepest of sky blue shade covering her shoulders with wide straps and a deep v-neck line that wrapped at her breasts and it lightened just at the lower ribs to a cotton blue, before trailing down at the hemline in a pale blue almost white shade. The cut exposed her leg to mid-thigh, giving just a peek of the petunia inked into her skin. Her hair was pulled back off her face in an elegant, sleek pony tail and her lips popped a deep, burnt red. Her blue eyes stood out under thick lashes and perfectly lined eyebrows, the rest of her make up remaining neutral. She'd only been in the sun a day, but just as it always did, it had kissed her body in a way that made each little freckle pop and her entire frame glow.

The salty sea air and sunshine always looked good on Stella Stevenson and today, the overall effect made Jensen's mouth water.

“Holy shit.” He muttered, turning away from the girl and conversation without so much as a goodbye, leaving her stood there shooting daggers at his back.

Stella smiled as Roque kissed her cheek, then Cougs and finally Clay before she stepped back and smiled as their Colonel’s arm curled around the slim, petite brunette to his right.

“Stel, this is Emma, Emma this is Stella.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Emma smiled, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Why doesn’t that fill me full of confidence?” Stella laughed and Emma shook her head, smiling.

“Oh, no, I assure you, it’s all been good!”

As the two women continued to chat and laugh, Jake stood there, waiting for his turn, hands jammed into the pockets of his dress slacks. Eventually, Stella nodded and turned to him and he flashed her a smile.

“You know, that’s the second day in a row I’ve seen you looking like a grown up!” She quickly scanned him up and down, taking in his well-fitted, steel grey suit. The top button of his jacket fastened, nipping in at his slim waist and spanning over his broad chest and shoulders. The crisp white dress shirt underneath stood out against the suit, and matched his white pocket swatch, the entire ensemble pulled together by the steel grey tie which matched his jacket and slacks.

As she was looking, Jake leaned forward, her perfume sending him lightheaded as always. He placed a gentle peck to her cheek, his chin brushing her ear slightly. “You look stunning.” He whispered, and he didn’t miss the goose-bumps that appeared on her skin as she swallowed and pulled away.

“Thanks.” She stood still, simply looking at him, and the two of them were locked in a gaze before Stella cleared her throat, breaking the spell. “You guys know where we’re supposed to be seated?”

“Yeah, we’re on the right,” Clay gestured, “Grooms side or whatever.”

The gang moved to find their seats, Jensen stepping forward ready to offer Stel his arm but Roque beat him to it.

“Always the gentleman, huh?” She smiled at him and he chuckled, a deep, low timbre rumbling from his chest.

“You know me, Arty.”

Jake watched them go, before he gave a yelp and clutched at his side, glaring at Cougar.

“Stop drooling, Jensen.” Cougar peered at him from underneath his hat, smirking as Jake rubbed at the place on his ribs where he had dug him with his elbow.

“I’m not drooling, shut up Cougs.”

Thankfully, Cougar left it there and they moved to take their seats along the row that Clay, Emma, Roque and Stella had already occupied. Cougar, whether on purpose or not, reached the end of the row first and slid in next to Stella, separating her from Jensen. Jensen rolled his eyes, but before he could get too pissed about it, Pooch arrived, in a simple black pinstripe three piece with an ivory and red striped tie, and made his way down the aisle, greeting everyone. He stopped at the row that contained the Losers and smiled, Jensen pulling him into a hug, clapping his shoulder as he pulled away.

The thing with weddings, is that no one can actually tell you were the day goes. They seem to pass in a whirl and Pooch’s was no exception. What felt like mere seconds after The Groom had arrived, but was in fact more near to twenty minutes, the music started and Jolene appeared at the large arch at the back of the terrace, walking slowly with her dad down the aisle, in a gorgeous knee-length fitted lace dress, which set off her curves and legs perfectly, her curly ebony hair pinned up elegantly at the back of her head. As she reached Pooch, she reached up and straightened his tie and Stella heard a “Pay up, Captain” to her right. She turned to see Roque reaching over Emma, handing Clay a twenty, not even looking at him, and she let out a soft snort, shaking her head.

The Bride and Groom exchanged simple vows and Pooch head tears in his eyes as he made his declaration. At that point, Jake couldn’t help but take a glance at Stel to find her looking down at her hands, the fingers of her left twisting the white gold and ruby solitaire ring that sat on her right ring finger, a gift from him for her twenty-first. He swallowed a little, as he hadn’t seen her wear it in a while before she glanced up, and he took the opportunity to study her pretty profile for a second before he turned his attention back to the front for the ring exchange.  Before long the new Mr and Mrs Pooch headed down the red carpet in the middle of the aisle to cheers and the guests filed their way back inside for drinks whilst the staff set up the outside terraced area for the reception.

To Jake’s delight, there was no huge stuffy sit down meal, it was just a large buffet which meant he could eat what he wanted and how much he wanted, which suited him perfectly. What didn’t suit him, however, was that he didn’t see that much of Stella, at all. Post eating and listening to the speeches, whether intentionally or not, she avoided him, spending most of the time sipping champagne and cocktails chatting to Emma and few of Jolene’s friends. Jake was left to mooch around, mainly with Cougar who was absolutely trying to get into the blonde bridesmaid’s panties. Unfortunately, she was stuck like glue to the red headed one that Jake wasn’t interested in.

“You make a shit wingman.” Cougar gave a jab to Jensen’s rib with his elbow as the two girls wandered off.

“Good job I’m not a pilot then.” Jensen shrugged, taking a pull from his beer as his eyes scanned the room for Stella.

At that point they both got strong slaps on their shoulders as Pooch drew up behind them both, leaning between them a little.

“Your momma was a pilot.”

Cougar and Jensen both looked at one another before they slowly turned to glance at Pooch.

“Did you just drop a momma joke on your wedding day?” Jensen snorted

“A shit one at that.” Cougar added, tipping his hat slightly with the neck of his bottle.

“Come on guys! As you have just said it’s my wedding day so let’s have a drink together before Jolene’s, sorry my wife’s,” at that he grinned, “bridesmaids hunt you down again.”

“What if I want to be hunted?” Cougar shrugged

“Hence why I said before. Pay attention Cougs.”

“Chinga tu madre, Cabrón.” Cougar smirked, causing both Pooch and Jensen to snort as they knew that insult very well having heard it a few times.

“I dare you to say it to her face.” Pooch looked at him as Cougar merely smirked, giving him a wink.

Pooch rolled his eyes, “what about you, Jensen?”

“I don’t wanna fuck Momma Pooch!”

“Why? What’s wrong with her?”  Pooch looked at him.

“What? Nothing, that’s just gross!” Jensen pulled a face.

“He’s considering a trip down memory lane instead.” Cougar teased and Pooch groaned.

“Dude! Seriously, you need to get over it!”

At that Jake turned to look at Cougar. “No I’m not, stop making shit up!” Cougar shrugged, smirking slightly and simply held his gaze as Jensen groaned. “Whatever, man.”

Cougar merely shrugged, as chilled as ever whilst Pooch laughed and handed them a drink from a passing tray. “Well, I think that deserves a toast. To the first married Loser…oh, wait, that would be me! And to Jensen who seriously needs to stop flogging a dead horse!”

Jensen took a deep breath, once upon a time he’d fully expected to be married by now, full disclosure, to Stella. Maybe a kid on the way if there wasn’t one around already. And that thought gave him a perfect way out of this current train of conversation.

“How long till Baby Pooch comes along?”

“Dude, if it was up to me he’d be on the way already!” Pooch grinned.

“He?” Jensen shook his head. “Nah man, you want a girl.”

“What? No! I want a little Pooch. Why would I want a girl?”

“A girl always loves her daddy.” Jensen shrugged. “Like Gracie, man, she’s awesome. There’s just something about seeing her with Robert. It’s cute.” He paused and grinned. “I want a girl. Imma call her Daisy.”

At that Cougar let out a snort as Pooch began to howl with laughter.

“Who’s Daisy?” Clay asked as he appeared with Roque, the pair of them smirking at something.

“Jensen’s first born. Apparently.” Pooch wiped his eyes.

“Wait, what?” Roque frowned and turned to Jensen. “You have a kid?”

“No, it’s a hypothetical one.” Jensen shook his head.

“Good.” Roque blew out a breath. “Do me a favour and never reproduce, Jensen.”

“Fuck you Roque,” Jake snapped back. “I’d make a great dad.”

“Yeah, well, you might wanna start ‘daddying’ that chick in the red dress over there, because she’s eye-fucking you shamelessly.” Roque nodded over his shoulder and Jake turned around. He gave the girl a once over, she was pretty but…his trail of thought died as he spotted Stella was stood alone at the bar. He necked his drink and holding up his glass he stated, “need a refill.” before he turned and headed over the room.

“Yeah, sure.” Pooch rolled his eyes as Cougar gave a low chuckle.

“Told ya.”

“Man he just can’t help himself, can he?” Roque shook his head as the three of them watched Jensen who approached Stella, his hand dropping to the small of her back as he leaned over to talk to her.

“Nope” Clay let out a sigh as Stell laughed at something Jake said. “Ahh, leave him to it, we can always do damage control, as usual where he is concerned.”

“How do you damage control a suicide bomb?” Pooch looked at Clay and Roque snorted.

“Pooch is right, dude is basically a hand grenade right now.”

“Don’t get involved guys.” Clay shook his head and Cougar nodded.

“I agree with boss. If Jensen’s gonna pull the pin, he can dive on it.”

“The problem will come when he tries to ‘pull her pin’ and she kicks his ass. But, fortunately I will be enjoying my wedding night.” Pooch shrugged. “See ya, Losers. Don’t have too much fun!”

The three of them watched him wander off over the room, shouting to someone, and Clay’s eyes fell on his date, Emma, who was smiling at him and waving from her spot at a table.

“I will also be enjoying Pooch’s wedding evening.” Clay winked and walked off.

Roque turned to look at Cougar. “Don’t even think of it…”

Cougar merely chuckled, tipped his hat and also wandered off, hands in his pockets as he sauntered over to a group of girls.

“That’s okay, just leave me here, I’m good!” Roque called after them before he let out a sigh. “Assholes.”

****

As the hours passed they drank, a lot. And naturally, where alcohol is involved inhibitions start to lower. There was a lot of fun being had, a lot of jokes being shared and other stupid activities being partaken in, such as a raucous drinking game Stella and Jake played against  Pooch’s uncle and his brother.

Which they lost, spectacularly.

Stella was feeling fairly light headed thanks to the mix of champagne, beer and cocktails running through her system, along with a few shots of tequila and somehow, she had no idea how, the two of them ended up on the dance floor, dancing to some really random shit when ‘La Bamba’ started playing. Jake grabbed Stella’s hand with a whoop of joy and started twirling her round, her face creasing in laughter as they let loose, Jake showing off his pretty neat footwork

“I thought you said he wasn’t taken?” The red headed bridesmaid gestured to Jake as she stood next to Pooch and he snorted.

“He’s not”

“Could have fooled me.”

“It’s complicated.” Pooch shrugged. “Long story short, she’s taken, he’s not. He wishes she wasn’t as it’s his fault she is.” He turned to the woman besides him. “If that makes any sense.”

From the look on her face, it made no sense at all, which wasn’t surprising to Pooch as he struggled to make sense of Jensen and Stella’s fucked up dynamic, but before she could reply there was a slap on his shoulder.

“Ten bucks says they end up in bed together,” Roque slurred.

“No way man.” Pooch shook his head, “she won’t cheat on Evan.”

“Fuck that guy,” Roque snorted. “Look, she’s hammered, here alone, I’m calling it.”

Pooch was about to tell Roque that Evan present or not, Stella would cut Jensen’s balls off if he tried anything when the familiar opening bars of ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ cut across the dance floor.

Both Stella and Jake paused a little, Jake running his hand through his hair as he gestured to the tables, clearly asking Stella if she wanted to quit dancing when she shook her head, giving him a smile, which Jensen returned as she took his hand, the pair of them beginning to sing and dance along.

“Twenty bucks,” Roque hiccupped, upping his stake.

“You’re on.” Pooch shook his hand as the bridesmaid snorted.

“And you’re losing.”

Pooch watched her go and then turned back to the dancefloor to see Jake and Stella now dancing pretty close...

This had always been their song. That was why Jensen had asked if she wanted to sit it out when it had come on, but she’d refused, and as such he’d been twirling her round to the music just like he always had. After one spin, they end up facing one another, singing very loudly as Jake threw his arms up and around, Stella snorting and laughing at his antics.

“Do you remember dancing to this at prom?” Jensen grinned as he continued to throw his arms around wildly, Stella shaking her head. He smiled, his mind straying back to that night, how amazing the entire evening had been, not least for the fact it had been the first time they’d fully given themselves to one another. He remembered laying there, after, as they both giggled and kissed and cuddled, thinking there and then that was it for him, there’d never be another girl who came close.

And then he’d pulled a Jensen, and ruined it.

“Of course I do.” Stella smiled. “Life was simpler back then, huh?”

“Isn’t it always?” Jensen asked as he spun her back round, pulling her in so her back was to his chest, hands dropping to her hips as the electric guitar solo struck up signalling the song was almost at and end. He felt Stella take a deep breath.

“Well we were kids.”

“But it was easy.” Jensen dropped his chin to her shoulder, his cheek brushing hers. “It was just you and me and the rest of our lives ahead.”

Stella tilted her head to look at him as the song faded into ‘I’ve Had The Time Of My Life’ and she pulled away, turning to face him with a shrug.

“Didn’t quite work out the way we thought though did it.” She asked, her hands sliding round his neck.

Jensen sighed, his fingers flexing against her hips. “I know. I fucked up.” He swallowed, the lump thick in his throat and Stella shook her head.

“Don’t.” She warned. “Not now.”

But Jensen wasn’t listening. He had to get it off his chest, he couldn’t stand the sick, hot feeling he got every time he thought about her and Evan. He needed to tell her, even if she told him there was no chance for them ever again, at least he’d know.

“No, just listen to me, Stelly, please.” His eyes locked onto hers. “There’s not a day goes by I don’t regret it. You know that, right? And no matter what happens I’ll always-“

He was cut off as Stella landed a harsh, stinging slap to his left cheek, his head whipping to the right. He took a deep breath, stunned, before he turned his head to face her, shocked splashed across his handsome features.

A few people around them stopped dancing, and Stella could hear a few hushed whispers, along with a louder shout of ouch, from who she had no idea. She opened her mouth to say something, the tears spilling from her eyes before she realised she needed to get out of there, and fast. So she did.

She hurried out of the room towards the hotel lobby and elevator, wiping the tears that were falling down her face. She knew she shouldn’t have done that, and maybe it was a little harsh, but the anger she felt towards Jake at that moment in time was insurmountable. He had left her, twice basically, and continued to fuck with her head, and then had the audacity to try and ...well, she didn't even know what he was trying to do. Her head was a mess, a fuckery of conflicting feelings, and she was as drunk as she could remember being in a long time, which wasn't helping.

She was also well aware that she'd just made a complete scene at Pooch's wedding, potentially seen by his entire family and friends, and that not only embarrassed her, it also made her feel like crap for being that asshole guest that everyone would be talking about for months to come.

*****

Jensen ignored both Roque and Clay who had crowded round to ask him what the hell he'd done to deserve a slap, but he simply pushed them out of the way, only one thing on his mind, getting to Stella and making her listen. He hurried out of the room, skidding to a slightly unsteady halt in the corridor before he jogged down the hallway and into the lobby where he spotted her at the elevator.

“Stel!" He yelled her name in an attempt to stop her, drawing intrigued and surprised looks from the guests and staff alike in the atrium. "Stella, wait!"

She didn't turn around, but he could tell she'd heard him, well, everyone in the lobby had heard him, but if that wasn't evidence enough to show that his calls across the foyer had reached her, the fact that she began angrily slamming her hand against the elevator call button certainly was. Jensen hurried across the shiny tiled surface, the heels of his dress shoes clicking as he went, expertly side stepping a couple who were walking through with cases, cursing as he saw Stella stepping into the elevator. He continued running, but just as he skidded to a halt he caught a glimpse of her angry tear stained face as the doors shut.

"Fuck!" He shouted, banging his hand on the wall just above the call panel. Spinning, he almost collided with a young couple who were looking at him, and the man shot him a filthy glare as he pushed between them, running to the stairs. He took them two, sometimes three at a time as he raced to the fourth floor in an attempt to catch her, and he burst into the corridor in time to see her stalking to her room.

He paused to take a breath, relief flooding his system at the fact he'd manage to catch her before she got to her room, before he realised he still had to stop her.

“Stel!” His shout was a desperate plea, and she spun to face him, her face surprised clearly at how he'd managed to get there so quick, and whilst she was still he took his chance. “Look, I’m sorry I made you upset but-“

With that she gave an angry growl almost as she turned around and carried on, the heel of her shoe catching a little as she did, causing her to stumble and Jensen felt his anger boiling over, this was fucking ridiculous, and here he was shouting down a hotel corridor, to her fucking back.

"For fucks sake, Estella, will you a stop being a bitch and just listen to me?"

At that she stopped dead and wheeled round, sheer venomous disdain etched across her face. "I am SICK of listening to you Jacob." She spat his full name back at him, in response to him using hers. "It’s always the fucking same. You know if anything I should have listened to you years ago when you dumped me and stayed the fuck away from you and your stupid-"

"You just slapped me, Stella!" Jensen exclaimed "In front of everyone in the fucking room! The least you can do is hear me out, I deserve that surely?"

"You don’t deserve shit." She snorted. "Now take a hint and leave me the fuck alone!"

"What, like your boyfriend?"

The words flew out of Jensen's mouth before he had even registered them, and from the look on Stella’s face she was as shocked as he was that he'd gone there. She took a deep breath, looked at the floor before she raised her head and stared at him, fresh tears in her eyes and Jensen sighed in frustration at himself.

"You know, just when I think you can’t go any lower." Her voice was soft and sad now, and Jensen stayed silent as he knew that had been a low blow. She took another shaky breath, shaking her head. "I’ve never come so close to hating you as I have right now. You are an asshole."

"Stell, look, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said that..."

"Go to hell." She stated, her voice flat as she turned and carried on walking towards her room.

"Cougar told me what Evan said." Jensen blurted out, more words he hadn't planned on saying, and once more she stopped dead.

"Fucking-"

"Did you say it back?"

There was no answer.

"You didn't, did you?" Jensen continued to press as she started walking towards her again. "That's why he isn't here, aint it? Because you couldn't say it, and you fell out, and-"

"You tell me," she stopped at the door to her room, foraging in her purse for her key, "I mean, clearly you have all the answers and know everything about how I feel and-"

"Damnit Stella, just-"

"You know what?" She spun to face him as he stopped besides her. "Evan might not be perfect but he’s never dumped me for no fucking reason, then used me as and when he wanted. But, I suppose that’s on me because I was never strong enough to tell you to fuck off and now that I am, you don’t like it." She raised her hand and jabbed him in the chest. "You don’t like the fact I’m not there when you want to fuck something because I’ve got someone else in my life-" another jab "-someone who… who loves me and I-."

"And you what Stel?" Jensen interrupted her rant with a snort and she fell silent, her eyes flashing. "See you can’t even say it, can you?"

Stella glared at him, a look that would make anyone else quiver in their shoes but not him, not now. He was too far gone trying to make his point, trying to make her see his point, to care how angry he was making her.

“Just admit it Stella," he arched his eyebrow, stepping forward. He planted one hand by her head, palm flat on the surface of the door as he leaned closer to her, his voice level and even as he stated, “you don’t love him, you never will.”

“Fuck you.” Stella stumbled over her words a little, before her hands planted on his chest and she shoved him. Jake stepped back, slightly off balance more to the alcohol in his system than the force of her push, but he steadied himself, moving forwards again. She made to shove him once more but this time he was ready, and his hands caught her wrists, fingers curling round them as her room key fell to the floor.

“Fuck me yourself.” He shot. At that she shook her head and scoffed. “What’s the matter, Stel?” Jake’s voice dropped a little as his grip around her wrists tightened, and he pressed her further into the door, his head dropping, face inches from hers. “Scared you might like it, still?”

“Asshole.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper and she pulled her arms violently to the side, Jake letting go. Once more she pushed him, this time he stepped away so she could bend and retrieve her room key from the floor, which took her a few attempts, her hand and eye coordination impaired from the drink. Eventually, she grabbed it and stood, a little unsteadily, turning her back to him.

As she slid the card into the slot, Jake was once more in her space behind her, his hands softly on her waist and he leaned towards her, his breath hot on her ear.

“Don’t be a chicken, Stel.” His voice was gravelly and he braced, waiting for another blow, but it never came. She swallowed a little, her chest heaving, and she made no attempt to stop his advances. She'd let go of what she had to say, and now she was physically proving him right in his assumptions and her denials

Emboldened by this, Jensen placed a soft kiss to her neck as she pushed the door to her room open, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She turned to him, her eyes locking into his and Jensen could see the conflict behind them. There was a war going on between her head and her heart and, had he been sober, Jensen probably would have walked away, knowing what he was doing was pretty shitty and unfair. But he wasn’t sober. He was drunk, and not just on alcohol but sheer desire for the woman stood in front of him. His Stelly. The girl he still loved.

As her large, clear blue eyes bounced across each of his whilst she grappled with her internal turmoil, Jake stood stock still waiting for her to make her move. He took a deep breath, expecting her to shove him away for that final time, and he would have taken it then, having already proven his point to both her and him, but then he saw it, that familiar darkening of her eyes.

The spark Stell still carried for him, that small flicker of a flame that for so long had been starved of oxygen, suddenly exploded and she reached out, grabbing his loose tie, bringing his lips crashing down to hers. Jake surged forward, pushing her backwards as he continued to kiss her, kicking the door to her room shut with his foot before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close,  pouring every single bit of emotion and frustration he’d felt over the past few months into the kiss.

It was urgent, it was desperate, and the pair of them stumbled around the hotel room, Stella pushing his jacket off and tossing it to the floor somewhere before she yanked off his tie, her fingers moving to undo his shirt. Jake's hands fumbled with the floaty tulle skirt of her dress as he pulled it up around her waist, trailing hot kisses down the side of her neck whilst Stella pushed his shirt down his arms where he shrugged it off. Her hands planted on his chest as she smoothed her delicate palms over the solid planes of muscle, sliding them down over his defined abs and he gave a soft hiss as he felt her nimble fingers undoing the buckle of his belt. In a quick move that made her squeak slightly, he reached down and grabbed her ass, hauling her off the floor, her legs wrapping around his waist as he backed her up against the large sliding doors which led out to the balcony. His lips pressed back to hers whilst her back hit the thick glass a little harder than he had intended, drawing a soft grunt from her mouth as it rattled in the frame.

“Ow.” she mumbled against his mouth, grabbing a fist full of his hair and tugging harshly so he looked at her. He gave an apologetic grin she looked at him for a moment before her hands moved and plucked off his glasses, in a movement that really shouldn’t be hot but for some reason it always was. He took them from her, depositing them in his pocket as his lips gently latched onto her neck, sucking at the pulse point. A barely there whimper sounded in his ear as he nipped at her skin and his attention moved downwards, hot, open mouthed kisses traced down her sternum which was exposed between the deep V neckline of her dress. A low moan left her mouth and her hips pushed down against the bulge in his trousers and he pressed into her, giving her the friction she was asking for. Her hands skimmed down his spine, her fingers making his skin burn and prickle as they danced over his back, coming to rest on his broad shoulders , digging into his muscles as Jake pushed his hips up again, grinding against her.

Neither of them were thinking straight, it was way past that point. This was a pure, carnal desire between two, once-upon-a-time long term lovers, both desperate to scratch that deep itch that they still had for one another. But still Jake paused, pulling back so he could take a moment to look at her. She was slightly dishevelled, strands of her hair had fallen loose from her up-do, framing her heart shaped face. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen from his kisses, but it was her eyes which caught him. He'd always loved her eyes and now they were staring at him with a wild, lust filled look that he knew so well. He swallowed a little, before she moved her hands to his cheeks, pulling his face back to hers. Jake moaned into this kiss and his hands moved round her back, her feet landed on the floor as her back slipped slightly against the smooth surface she had been pressed against. Their mouths remained open, pressed together, sharing air as Jensen slid the zipper of her dress down, causing it to gape a little at the front and he reached up, thumbs gently running on the underside of the straps before he slid them down her arms, placing a soft kiss to each of her shoulders in turn. As he pushed the soft, blue chiffon of her dress down to her waist he couldn’t help the carnal growl that rumbled in his throat as he saw she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Fuck, Stel. You're beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful." He muttered, his lips back on hers as his hands cradled her face. She stepped out of her dress, his hands moving down to grip her hips, fingers curling over the softness of her flesh as he pushed her back against the cold surface of the window. His lips claimed hers again before he moved his mouth, nibbling his way down the column of her throat, tongue dipping into the hollow at the base of her neck, teeth grazing her collar bone as he mapped his way down her body in a way he had done so many times before.

Stella felt Jensen's hands sliding down her bare thighs as he sunk to the floor and her brain had barely registered the fact he was on his knees, when he hooked one leg over his shoulder, shifting her soaked panties to one side. At the first touch his mouth made to her inner thigh she sighed in pleasure, the raw scratch of his short beard a contrast to the warm, softness of his mouth as he moved upwards before he finally gave one long lick over her sex, dipping his tongue into her a little, causing her to cry out in pleasure, one hand falling to his head, the other palm slapping against the glass surface behind her. He repeated his action, his tongue flicking up through her sensitive outer lips and this time he sucked on her clit, causing her back to arch, her had dropping back in sheer pleasure as her shoulders pressed further onto the glass in an attempt to keep herself up-right, all the time writhing at his actions.

His tongue and lips worked in tandem, un-doing her lap by lap, all the time she was vaguely aware of the fact she was begging him not to stop, her words punctuated by gasps and pants, manicured nails digging into his scalp as her hand curled over his head, fingers tangling into his short hair. It wasn’t long before Stella felt that familiar tightening across her stomach and her leg trembled slightly as she fought to keep herself upright.

“Fuck, JJ,” she stuttered, as he let out a groan, the vibration so pleasurable it was almost painful as his tongue dipped in and out of her entrance, continuing to fuck her the way he had always been able to do. The burning in her stomach suddenly took over her entire body and she gave a loud cry as she came, her head falling forward before it rolled back again against the window with a hard thud as the world around her went silent. She grasped Jensen’s shoulder as her leg gave way and he quickly stood up, catching her easily, a grin on his face as she opened her eyes and looked at him, her pupils blown with lust, her thighs once more locked round his waist. He kissed her again, the kiss absolutely filthy as he stepped back and turned them, crossing the room where he dropped her gently onto the bed.

She knelt up on the soft mattress, her now almost completely loose hair falling over her face as she hooked her fingers into the belt loops of his dress slacks and pulled him to her. In one smooth, fluid movement of her hands she’d undone his flies before she slid his pants and boxers down in one swoop. She dropped her head and took him in her mouth without so much as a warning, her eyes locked onto his.

“Shit, Stel” he mumbled, his hands tangling into her hair, guiding her softly as she moved, her head bobbing back and forth before she pulled away to lick along the base of his shaft, tracing the vein in the underneath, and Jensen knew then if she carried on he was going to blow his load before he’d even gotten to the main event.

“Get up here.” His voice was low as he cupped her face and guided her back up, kissing her again. With a gentle shove, Jensen pushed her back on the bed, stepping out of his remaining clothes before he crawled over her, sliding her lace underwear down her long, smooth legs. He didn’t give her a chance to say anything before he gave her ankles a soft tug, pulling her down further on the bed, crawling between her thighs, his mouth tracing its way up from her belly to her breasts which were heaving, nipples pebbled in excitement. Knowing exactly what would leave her nothing short of a wreck underneath him, he turned his attention to her right breast, lapping and sucking, grazing with his teeth whilst his hand palmed at her left. She let out a soft, breathy moan, which was music to Jensen's ears as his mouth and hand traded places. He worked her over, till she was begging to feel him where she needed him, her knees clenching around his slim waist, desperate for something to help the burning that was between her legs. He shifted his position a little, propping himself up so he could kiss her deeply again, hands on either side of her face as he buried himself inside of her, with a loud groan.

“God you feel so good, Stel.” His mouth moved over her jaw to her ear as he praised her, nipping at the lobe. At his words Stella gave a loud groan as he thrust up into her again, deeply, burying himself to the hilt before he rotated his hips in a dirty grind, a move he knew drove her wild. She cried out, clawing at his back and he groaned as she tipped her hips up to meet his.

"You know,” another thrust, "he’ll never be able,” another thrust, “to fuck you the way I can," he rotated his hips for another grind which caused her once more to cry out, nails biting at his back as he drove a little deeper, "because he doesn’t know you like I do."

To prove his point, one hand moved and gently wrapped round the front of her throat, giving the gentlest of squeezes but he knew that would send her feral. It was something he had discovered a long time ago, being so in control the rest of the time, Stella loved when he would take over like this, dominate her a touch and whisper cheeky, dirty little things into ear. It had always driven her crazy and tonight was no exception. He’d succeeded in throwing fuel onto the fire that was already raging, and a sharp, strangled wail of his name stuttered from her lips as he felt her fluttering around him.

"You were made for me, Baby Girl." Jensen’s own voice was a low growl as his hips picked up their pace, Stella's head falling back onto the pillows as Jake's mouth claimed hers again, the kiss sloppy and desperate matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

Because he was. He was desperate for this woman. Desperate like he’d never been desperate before.

“Jakey.” She keened underneath him, hands still clawing the muscles of his back which were flexing under her touch, equally as needy for him as he was her. He reached down to hook a leg over his shoulder causing her to mewl loudly at the change of angle and depth as he continued to drive into her like his life depended on it. He bent over, mouth swallowing another loud moan as he did, feeling her sweat soaked skin slick against his.

“Fuck, baby I’m close,” he stuttered, his hips snapping back and forth, “see what you do to me?”

Her beautiful eyes were wide, her mouth pressed to his as she let out a broken lament as her walls fluttered around him again, causing him to almost purr in delight as she did. She was close, so fucking close. And it felt good. As his cock dragged in and out of her, the feel of him sliding up against her spot had her worked into a complete frenzy, and she was teetering right on that edge.

“Don’t stop,” she panted, her head falling back further onto the pillow as she grasped his arms whilst he continued to fuck her into the mattress. And then, her stomach tightened and she felt the rush of pleasure that she knew was the end, beginning to wash over her. "Oh, God, Jake...I'm..."

"Come on, Stel." Jake growled, his hips still pumping in and out of her "Cum for me, Baby, just like you always do."

At his words, she gave a low, sultry whimper and her eyes fluttered shut, nails digging into his biceps as she shuddered underneath him, her back arching as her walls clamped down on him, milking his cock and that was it. He was done for, just like he always was when it came to this woman.

“Shit, Stel," he groaned as he felt his abs tighten as he came with a force he hadn't felt in a long time. His hips faltered as he cried out, shooting his load straight into her, before after one final, deep thrust he collapsed on top of her, his face buried into her neck.

The room was silent bar the sounds of their deep, heavy breathing as they both came down, fighting for control. Jake felt her hands gently move round to tangle in his hair, nails scratching his scalp and he raised his head, eyes still closed, enjoying her touch.

“Jake,” she finally whispered, still slightly out of breath but he didn't miss the tremble in her voice and he raised his head, opening his eyes to see her looking back at him. Her cheeks were flushed, hair all over the place and fuck, he’d never see anything so damned beautiful in his life as her undone underneath him. But her eyes, they were misting over with tears and he swallowed, shaking his head.

"Stel… " he began, and she turned her head away from his, screwing her eyes shut as her face crumpled.

"Fuck, what did we just do?" She whispered, opening her eyes and she looked at the wall to her right for a moment before Jensen tipped her face back round to him.

"Don't." He shook his head, pressing a kiss to the bridge of her nose. "Don't do this, not now." He pressed their foreheads together, his nose bumping hers and she gave a quiet sniff as he pressed his lips to hers softly.

“Do you want me to go?” He didn’t really want to ask the question, for fear of her answer but she shook her head, her eyes a little lost as she looked at him.

“No, I don’t. And that’s the problem.” She whispered.

He wanted to try and assure her that it was all okay and that they hadn’t done anything wrong but his words died in his throat, because he knew technically they had. Whatever was going on with her and Agent Shitname, she was still with him, meaning she’d cheated and he knew that would be cutting her up inside.

And now Jensen felt like shit for putting her in that position.

He gently pecked her lips again and with a soft movement he pulled out from her and lay on his back, his hand rubbing his chest. After a little pause he felt Stella turn into him and her head lay on his chest, his arm curling round her shoulder as she sniffed a little, turning her face into his sternum.

“It’s gonna be okay, Stelly.” He pressed a kiss to her head.

It was lame, but it was all he could thing to say. He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t reply, and there wasn’t another word spoken between the two of them before they both fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

****

Stella woke the next morning, her bare back pressed into a hard, muscled chest and didn't even need to turn round to know whose arm was thrown round her waist. As the memories of what had happened the night before flooded her brain she squeezed her eyes closed, taking a deep, shuddering breath, fighting the urge to snuggle further back into the arms of the man she knew so well. Instead, she gently untangled herself from Jensen and without a glance back headed quietly into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She glanced in the mirror and grimaced as she saw the previous day’s make up was streaked all over her face. Grabbing her cleanser from her toiletries bag she wiped it away, tossing the cotton pads into the trash before she turned on the shower and stepped into the stream. She stood there for a while, her face titled to meet the water as it beat down on her, washing away the silent tears that were pouring down her cheeks.

Ten minutes or so later she stepped out, almost working on auto pilot and dried herself off, before grabbing one of the hotel provided towel robes. Once wrapped in it, she squeezed the water out of her hair, dragged a brush through it and then opened the door.

Just as expected, Jensen was still flat out in the bed, although he'd now turned onto his back. It had always been a joke between the two of them that he could sleep through a damned earthquake after a heavy drinking session, yet never failed to hear his alarm. Stella took a moment to study his face, a face she knew by heart, every freckle and line, the curve of his nose and angle of his jaw. Biting her lip, she moved towards the back of the room, made herself a coffee as quietly as she could before she retrieved her phone from her purse that had been tossed down carelessly the night before and headed out onto the balcony, closing the doors behind her.

She sank into one of the chairs, tucking her legs under her and glanced at the screen. There wasn't much battery left but she had a couple of missed calls. One from Clay and another form Cougar, both probably wondering where she had bailed to, and one from Evan. She swallowed as she also spotted she had a message from him too.

Ev- Hey, Pumpkin. Look, I'm so sorry about how things went down the other night. I overreacted, and that's on me. I really hope you're having a good time. Please call me when you can, and we can talk when you're home xx

Stella felt the guilt twist in her gut even more and she gave a sigh, tossing her phone onto the table.

"He’ll never be able to fuck you the way I can, because he doesn’t know you like I do."

Jakes voice rattled around her head and she took a dep breath, looking over the balcony down at the pool area below. Try as she might, she couldn't even deny he was right. The sex with Evan wasn't bad, in fact she would go as far as saying it was pretty damned good, likely to be earth shattering to most women. But, to her, there had always been something that held her back.

And now she was forced to admit head on what she'd been trying to deny for months. It was because he wasn't Jake.

Jake Jensen had worked her way into his heart from the day they had met when they were merely eleven years old, and try as she might she couldn't shake him. That year they had been apart, she'd tried so hard, and had been sure she'd managed, and then she'd seen him and they'd fucked, and fallen back into that awful cycle of being together but not being together.

She couldn't stay with Evan. She'd known that even before last night had happened but the fact she'd basically opened her legs so easily for Jensen went to prove that she didn't love Evan, and she wasn't sure she ever would.

She took a shuddering breath and then her attention jerked upwards as Jake opened the balcony door, his hair mussed, top half bare as he rubbed his eyes, his glasses in his hand.

"Hey." he offered, almost shyly and Stella gave him a nod.

"Hi."

There was an awkward silence as he sat down on the chair opposite her, slipping his glasses onto his nose. He watched as she avoided his gaze, glancing over the balcony, occasionally looking at her hands which were worrying one another. Eventually, he could stand it no more and he reached over to take her hands in his.

"Stel, look, last night..."

"Last night was a mistake." She spoke, her eyes locking onto his. Jensen felt his gut churn, her words an icy blade digging into his heart.

"So, you’re just gonna pretend like it didn't happen and go back to that prick?" Jensen looked at her, his voice measured and Stella shook her head.

"No, I can't do that. Not now. Me and Evan are over, I'm gonna tell him when we get back. I don't love him, you're right. Because if I did I would never have given in and slept with you." She licked her lips.

Jake swallowed and looked down at his hands which were clasped around hers before he raised his head to stare her straight in the eye. "I'm sorry." he said eventually. "I'm sorry if you felt like, well, like I pushed you..."

"No, that's not what I'm saying." She squeezed his fingers. "I just, me and you, we can't keep doing this. We go round and round in circles and…" She took a shuddering breath as she trailed off, unable to articulate what she was trying to say.

"No, I get it." Jake gave her a small smile. He let go of her hands and stood up. "I should probably erm, go,” he gestured to the door, “I need to shower before breakfast and the taxi to the airport arrives."

"Okay." She nodded.

She watched him open the door to head inside, before he paused and turned to face her.

"I know you said what happened last night was a mistake, but I just want you to know that I wouldn’t change it for the world."

With that he gave her a final smile and headed back into the hotel room. Stella could see him through the glass doors as he hastily dressed, before without so much as another word he left, and as she heard the door to her room close, the tears once more began to fall.

**** Chapter 7 Part 3

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part II

Word Count: 1,846 Warnings: References to drug use. PTSD. Ben Affleck. As always, if I forgot anything please message me and I'll amend this warning. A/N: Protect Francisco Morales at all goddamn costs, honestly. 

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

“Fish?”

He cringes inward at his military nickname, it rips at his heart hearing it drip from his best friend’s mouth now. This man he would die for, almost has died for. None of the others had called him that in years, he insisted on Frankie with them. But he’d barely heard from Santiago, had no way of telling him.

He hears the words he’s saying, same shit he always says:

“I need a pilot. I can’t do this thing without you."

Years of that shit pulling him into another tour here. A deployment there. Again and again. Long after he served his sentence and was free to go.

“I don’t know, man. I got the new baby now,” he beams. Santi didn't know Luna and all Frankie wanted to do was tell him about her but he holds back, opting instead for, “And my lady isn’t into my doing this kinda shit anymore.”

He looks back at Will, a knowing look exchanged between the two. He is begging for his brother to step in, say something. Save him. He’s throwing Leah under the bus but, fuck it, it’s true. She isn’t into him doing this kinda shit anymore. And she wasn’t the biggest fan of Santi, always coming up with shit to get the rest of the boys into.

“Wha—what does that mean?”

Frankie lets out a breath he feels like he’s been holding all day and stands, knowing he’ll start shaking if he doesn’t. The knee bouncing is getting out of hand but he was hesitant to seek out anti anxiety medication while detoxing. He’d just sweat it all out anyway. Santiago’s droning on behind him, hell bent on staving off rejection.

“Did you read the text? This can change you and that baby’s life forever.”

Leave it to Santi to exclude Leah, he wasn’t necessarily her biggest fan either. But to just gloss right over her? Didn’t even fucking ask Luna’s name.

He crosses his arms, “What happened to that bullshit about going back to your mother’s homeland and empowering the people to police themselves?”

Santiago stares him down, a power grab of a laugh escaping him.

“Anyway, I lost my license. I can’t even fly right now.” Please just drop it, please just drop it, please just drop it.

Benny’s wrapping his knuckles. William’s looking between the two. And Santiago? Santiago is closing the space between them.

“I don’t need a pilot with a license, I’m in with the army down there,” he says as if that makes things better. It doesn’t. He knows it, Frankie knows it, the Millers know it. But if there’s one thing Santiago Garcia gets, it’s his fucking way.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Frankie’s firm, he’s not fucking doing it this time. He’s worked too goddamn hard on everything. Built a life out of rubble and was this close to pissing it away, he’s not gonna seal the deal on Leah’s promise to go.

Santi paces, frustrated, “Lorea is destroying that country. So we get to take out a very bad man, and, oh, by the way, there’s a winning lottery ticket stuck to the bottom of your cowboy boot.” He says that last bit with a mock tone and he’s smiling, believing he’s got Frankie now. A bit of a tease to rile his best friend up, get him laughing, get him in it. “Every guy in that gym would jump at this.”

“Come on, focus, guys! It’s fight night.” —————

“Hey!” He catches up with Santi in the hall, “I didn’t mean to call your shit bullshit.”

He didn’t, really. He knows where Santiago’s coming from but he can’t be the one in the thick of it anymore.

Another of those cool, indignant laughs, “It's all right.”

“I got busted,” Frankie says coolly, like he’s letting you know he left the light on, “it’s not a big deal.”

Santi’s head snaps to the right.

“Actually,” the taller of the two continues, “It's a big deal.”

“Coke?” Santiago’s trying not to let Frank’s addiction shock him, scoffing, “Jesus, Frankie.”

“Technically, it’s a suspension, I’m still under review but… it fucked everything up with Leah. I’ve been detoxing in Will’s spare room for weeks.”

“You’re telling me she didn’t know before the suspension? I don’t buy that.” Frankie tried to ignore the venom in his words.

“No, she knew. We’ve been in couple’s counseling while I’ve been getting clean, she said she didn’t know it was as often as it was. Just thought it was a hit here and there.”

“So things are good still?”

Frankie takes a deep breath, “We seem to have gotten back to good but that’s not where I wanna be, Pope. I wanna be great.” He looks to Santi and then Will, “What about you? What are you gonna do?”

There was no doubt in the world where Benny stood. He’d follow Santiago into hell. He pretty much had on more than one occasion but Benny always was a wildcard. Will was too calculated for that bullshit, he needed a plan. He needed foundation under his feet, not just charisma and Frankie would follow him. Frankie owed him his life. Will was the one to convince Frankie to hang it up. The one putting a half dead Frankie in cold showers and pumping his fucking stomach on no sleep. Will was the one Leah called when Frankie got too close to the edge. His brother, Luna’s godfather.

“I said if Redfly’s in, I’m in.”

Fuck! Fucking Tom. Frankie takes his hat off, adjusts his hair. I fucking hate Tom. —————

“Tom is not in our wedding,” Leah glared down the kitchen island at Frankie, arguing again about the goddamn wedding party. She didn’t even want it anymore. Had thrown her hands up, on more than one occasion, and begged to just run down to the courthouse.

And it all circled back to Tom fucking Davis.

“We served together for ten years, Leah! It’s a bit fucked up to have the rest of the boys up there in tuxes, Tess as our flower girl and Tom is,” he flails his hands out, “Three rows back with that one coworker who brings you coffee every Friday.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d let Tom sit that close to the altar, Francisco Morales. And next to Alexa? She is my angel and Tom Davis will be nowhere near her, do you understand me?”

“Then marry Alexa, babe!”

Leah put her hands on her hips, “Bitch, I might.”

He breaks and laughs, lifting his hat to rub at his forehead, “What do you want me to tell him then? You have plenty of friends who could be a fourth bridesmaid.”

“How about you drop Benny too?” She shrugs, “Just keep Will and Santi and I’ll keep my sisters. Two and two.”

He throws the hat on the counter, “YOU LOVE BENNY!”

“You're right, baby,” she laughs, eyes bright. A challenge on the tip of her tongue. "Drop Santi.”

He charges after her, ready for her words, and chases her through the house. Their house. Still nowhere near unpacked after a month and he’s cursing the unintended obstacle course he’s laid out for himself. She’s making quick work of it but, fuck, he’s out of shape.

He runs up the stairs, back screaming with every step as he gains on her. It helps his legs are much longer than hers.

She makes it to the bedroom, spinning to close the door but he grabs her before she can, pinning her down with all his weight. She insisted on the nicest sheets they could find and almost never made the bed, preferring to fall right into the softness without much work.

He ran his hand down her body, drumming his fingers in a soft rhythm until he reached her thigh, hitching it over his hip.

Her heart was still racing from the chase but Frankie felt it tick upwards as he placed his lips on her neck.

“Francisco,” she whined, “we can’t do this right now. We have to do grown up things.”

He smiles into the soft skin, “this is grown up things.”

“You know what I mean.”

He looks up at her, “hmm…” He’s got her right where he wants her, none the wiser as he reaches down to her knee and—

“Frankie, what are you doing?” Her voice comes out an octave higher, panic in her eyes pleading with him not to when the corner of his mouth crooks upwards and—

He digs his fingers into the soft flesh at the bend of her knee, smile blown wide as she screams out like a hyena.

“Stop! Stop!” She laughs through labored breaths, “baby, it was just a joke.”

“You're not funny,” he lulls with a kiss.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” her eyes filled with hurt and conviction, “I'm hilarious so… ya know, jot that down.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“But Tom fucking Davis is not in our wedding or I swear to god, Francisco Morales, I will call the whole goddamn thing off. It is my day and I’m not having his big Irish head in my wedding photos for the rest of my life.”

He laughs again, “Fine. But what should I tell him?”

“Tell him I fucking hate him.”

“You don’t hate anybody, baby, I don’t think you’ve got that in your heart. Be serious with me, please. What do I tell him?”

“Tell him,” she thinks for a second, because she absolutely does have the capacity for hate in her heart, “that I can’t choose amongst my friends for a fourth bridesmaid and so I just want to keep the party small with only my sisters.”

He seems satisfied by that, nodding his head. “But I am keeping Santi.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“But…”

Her stare is like daggers, “I’m not talking about Tom anymore.”

“No. No, it’s not that,” he’s laughing, his life is all laughter now. “I just still think we should set Pope up with Kristyn.”

She’s pushing out from under him, sitting up for the higher ground. Her finger is in his face, her words are measured, “If Santiago Garcia even so much as looks at my little sister, I will do what so many have tried and failed to do before.”

“And what's that, sweetheart?”

“I will kill him.”

The whole bed is shaking with his laughter now, “You're right, baby, you’re hilarious.” —————

Will’s in front of them now, hands on his knees, “What's the verdict?”

Tom looks at Frankie, then to Will, “I'm in for the recce if you guys are.”

The world goes quiet, replaced by a high pitched ringing in Frankie’s ear as he downs the world’s shittiest beer.

Fuck.

“Fish?” Santiago’s voice cuts clear through, always had.

Frankie lowers the plastic cup, “When is it?”

“We leave Thursday.”

Fuck.

Again, he lets go of a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, staring off into the ring. Staring off at nothing and everything.

“Okay.”

This could change his family’s life forever.

Fuck.

TAGLIST: @justanotherblonde23 | @greeneyedblondie44 | @icanbeyourjedi | @notcookiebelle | @princess76179​ | @bbuckysbeardd​

[amyrlin-of-starlight]

Rain was beautiful. Rain was fast. Rain was gone. Rain was never coming back.

If you asked someone- anyone, really, maybe even a random person you caught a glimpse of in Kohl’s with Christmas tree ornaments at half the price or a cable-knit sweater with a V-neck that you could tell was meant to show off the crevice of a cleavage, and grabbed them by the arm, asked them the question you always hoped that they would answer differently- about Rain Wood, a look would wash over their face. The gaze that their eyes emanated would soften, melt with sympathy, and their lips would part without a word for a moment, and then they would say Rain was... Rain was a nice girl. Rain was a pretty girl. Rain was a missing girl. And then maybe they would notice the slope of my nose, the color of my eyes, the shape of my lips, and realize that Rain Wood was not just a missing girl to me, not just a nice girl, not just a pretty girl. That she was a girl who left something-someone-behind with the slope of her nose, the color of her eyes, and the shape of her lips to always remind her of someone who was never coming home. Her Christmas stocking, red and white, was getting dusty and smelled like old wood from so many years trapped in the attic, and there were unopened gifts hidden in the closet underneath the hems of winter coats and tucked behind the worn boots my father wore to trudge through the snow or the mittens tossed aside, flung from frozen fingers, and her favorite cereal was still in the cupboard, having expired three years ago, but my mother would have never let anyone eat it anyway.

That cereal was Rain’s.

Rain was a girl with fiery red hair that she twisted into messily done braids with wisps of her tresses curling around her ears that seemed to be caught on fire underneath the gleam of the sun, and Rain was a girl with bright, green eyes that resembled the leaves of a walnut tree in the summer. I had those bright, green, walnut tree-esque eyes too but they never looked as good on me as they did Rain. Rain had eyes that twinkled, that glimmered, and that sparkled. Maybe my eyes did that too but then Rain was gone and my eyes became dull, unpolished, and murky. Rain was a girl with a boisterous laugh, one that giggled, one that made you laugh too. Rain was a girl who sang country songs in the passenger seat of our mother’s car, her bare feet propped up on the dashboard, her chipped, baby blue nail polish seeming to look beautiful on her delicate toenails, and her voice had a southern drawl to it when she sang that my mother never understood, the origin unknown and a mystery.

Rain was perfect.

And Rain was gone.

Rain was.

The word “is” just never accompanied her name anymore.

Because.

Rain was gone.

.

It was Christmas Eve when she disappeared, when she went from Rain Is to Rain Was, and she was with me, her fingers clad with gloves wrapped around the laces of her ice skates with blades that glinted underneath the rays of the sun and clinked together as she walked, her footsteps crunching in the white, glittering snow, and she was smiling at me, telling me how beautiful everything looked in winter. She was oblivious. I was smiling, agreeing with her. I was oblivious.

I had my own pair of ice skates and I was holding them by the heels, rubbing the leathery material in between my cold fingers, and sticking out my tongue to feel the cool droplet of a snowflake falling on my tongue. I dropped my ice skates onto the snow, flurries emanating from around the blades and the sides of the shoe, and the tip of one of the laces had buried into the snow, as if it were hiding, as if it knew. I was peeling off my boots, tossing them in random directions, and I heard the humph of a man grunting behind me as my boot whacked against his shin. I heard Rain apologizing to him, I heard Rain telling him that I was just excited, I heard Rain wishing him a Merry Christmas.

I heard him ask her if she knew which direction our local Wal-Mart was.

I heard him ask her if she would mind showing him on his map in his car.

I heard her say yes.

I never heard Rain say anything after that.

I waited for her to come back, my ice skates tied tightly around my feet, and the tips of my fingers beginning to develop what felt like frostbite, and I even stepped out onto the ice alone, a small little pond with snowflakes collecting on the glass-like surface, scratched with the treads of past ice skates, and I waited. I waited for her to show him which way the local Wal-Mart was on his map in his car. I waited for her to come running back, smiling and laughing, joking about out-of-towners, and then for her to yank down the zipper of her boots that almost reached her knee and lace her ice skates.

I waited for the blades of her ice skates to graze the ice of the pond with mine. And then, after the sun had begun to dip behind the forest of pine trees behind me, I got off of the solid pond and walked on the blades of my ice skates to the parking lot of the park, wobbling and grabbing onto bird baths and light-posts when I could, and I searched for a car with a man and Rain hunched over a map, her finger tracing the roads and gliding over the rivers, and his furrowed brow, confused. He had to be really confused if he still did not know the way. But there was no car, there was no map, there was no confused, out-of-towner with a furrowed brow.

And there was no Rain.

I nearly tripped on the pavement of the parking lot as I searched for her, stepping in brown slush with the blades of my ice skates, and I called out her name. There was no Rain. I asked a woman with her children who wore matching knit hats if she saw a teenage girl with an older man, and she said no. She asked me if I was lost, and I said no. My sister, Rain, was lost, I told her. I told her about the man who wanted directions to the local Wal-Mart and how my sister was going to help him. She had just gotten her learner’s permit that year. The woman’s faced drained and wrinkled with something that looked a lot like fear as she asked if I knew the man, if he was a friend. She told me to play with her children with the matching knit hats when I told her no. He was a stranger.

And Rain was gone.

Red and blue lights flickered and gleamed off of the dark pavement of the park parking lot after the woman brought her cell phone out of her purse and pressed her thumb down on three numbers. She said that there was a missing minor, and I remembered thinking that I didn’t know what that meant. Rain, not minor, was missing, and she was just lost. She was trying to help an out-of-towner find our local Wal-Mart. I remembered a man dressed in navy blue with badges decorating his chest and a walkie-talkie strapped to his shoulder crouching down in front of me, asking me about Rain, about the man she was trying to help. He held out a pair of ice skates he found in the parking lot. He asked me if they were hers. I said yes. I said that she was going to be upset that she lost her ice skates. He smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes and took out a notepad with a leather cover and a pen, clicking the top, and asked me if I knew my parents’ phone number. I did. I told him. He told him that they would try really hard to find Rain, my sister, and I just nodded.

I was oblivious.

I was in the dark.

I was unaware of the Amber Alert. I was unaware of the search parties composed of neighbors, of church-goers, of people I never met, that combed the forests. I was unaware of the reason for my mother’s hysterical tears. I was unaware of what the term foul play meant. I was unaware when they asked for my sister’s hairbrush, placing it in a plastic bag that zipped. I thought they were going to brush her hair. I was unaware that my sister’s face was on the news. I was unaware that people were already buying candles for the vigil. I was unaware of the missing posters that were being plastered over my hometown.

And I was unaware that somewhere, my sister, Rain was gone.

I always thought she would come back.

Until I heard a man who said he was an FBI agent in a blazer with a stripped red and green tie telling my mom that Rain was presumed dead, and how loudly my mother sobbed in the living room as she tried to take down the Christmas tree ornaments. Foul play, presumed dead, predators, they all felt like they were words too big for our living room to handle. My mother said that Rain was alive. My father said my mother’s name. My mother shouted and I heard something crashing. It was the Christmas tree. And then she ran for her computer and brought the document for Rain’s missing person’s poster and kept clicking the PRINT button over and over again, her breath coming out in gasps and her eyes trickling teardrops onto the keyboard.

I asked the FBI agent as he left if Rain was coming home.

His face softened.

His head tilted.

And his lips said the words, no. Rain probably would not come home.

.

When I was thirteen, just after May and the flowers began to grow in the flower beds that were pushed against the exterior bricks of houses in the Cul-De-Sac neighborhoods, and Rain has been gone for four years and her black and white pictures that store owners let my mother tape to their windows had been torn down and crumpled, tossed thoughtlessly into trashcans because she was gone- totally gone, completely gone, utterly gone, with nothing even to bury because she was totally, completely, and utterly gone- the police called us and told us that they had a man in custody. His name was Jerrod F. Norris and he had mean eyes that were murky blue and perfectly straight teeth and dark stubble adorning his cheeks in his mug shot photograph. He looked normal and terrifying at once. I thought about my sister seeing those mean, murky blue eyes, staring into them before she slipped away, and I thought about her heart fluttering. She said your heart flutters, jumps, when you look at a certain boy. I thought about her heart fluttering and jumping as he took away. I tried to turn off of the television as his face illuminated the pixels and my fingers were fumbling, unable to press the buttons of the remote control, and then I just threw it against the screen. It cracked and went black. My parents weren’t even mad. My mother actually thanked me as she choked on her tears. My father curled his fingers around the edge of the couch cushions.

They say he admitted to taking her, to seeing her that Christmas Eve in front of the frozen pond with the laces of her ice skates pressing into the folds of her fingers, and to lying about the directions of our local Wal-Mart. He lived only five miles away. He had receipt for duct tape and a curling iron from our Wal-Mart an hour before he said he took Rain away from me. I didn’t want to know why he had bought a curling iron but they said he was single and he had short hair. He said he took her away, covered her mouth, and taped her hands and feet together and drove. He took her to the woods, he said.

He molested her, he said. He murdered her, he said. He left her there, he said.

And when they asked for him to draw a map to find her, he said he could not.

Because he did not leave her in just one spot.

I remembered how my mother screamed, wept, when the detectives told her about the interview, about his confession, about what he said he had done to her little girl. She was on the ground, clutching a pillow to her chest, and her face was red and wet. The detective looked uncomfortable, distraught, and a little alarmed. I was too. I thought women only shouted in the movies but my mother was shouting, not even words but sounds, and my father was crying too, and kept saying, “Oh, my little girl. Oh, my little girl.” The detective tried to say that there wasn’t a body, or body parts, yet, but it didn’t matter.

Someone had said that they took our Rain away from us, kept her silent, hurt her, slayed her, and tore her apart, left her in the woods all alone on Christmas Eve, with her little sister waiting for her, teetering on the silver blades of her ice skates in the parking lot as she looked for her, calling out her name.

Rain was gone.

Rain was nowhere.

Rain was everywhere.

.

The day I met Franklin was Christmas Eve, but December 24th stopped feeling like Christmas Eve nine years ago when Rain went from “is” to “was” in that single moment in front of the frozen pond, the blades of her ice skates clinking together and her footsteps coinciding with his crunching on the thick snow. I was there, in front of the pond that was crisscrossed with the scratches and grazes of the blades of ice skates and dusted with a light layer of snowflakes. It looked like that day nine years ago; when I last saw her, Rain, when I last saw her smile. I brought my ice skates but they were too small now, fit for a nine year girl with a sister who was alive- gloriously alive and so in love with life, not an eighteen year old girl without a sister who was dead. I didn’t want to skate until she was found. Eventually, I just thought that I would never skate again.

But now I was back- because a couple of hunters stumbled upon a bone in the woods during the hunting season, and the DNA tests proved that it belonged to Rain, that it was Rain’s bone. It was a leg, they said. It looked broken, they said, maybe before she died or after. They thought she was dead when it happened, when her leg stopped being a part of her, but I was not sure if they were just trying to spare us the awful thoughts we were already thinking.

And now I was going to skate again.

But my skates were too small.

And Rain was gone.

“You will need bigger ice skates than that.” I heard his voice before I saw him and I flinched as I heard his playful, light voice bouncing against the barren trees and the glimmering snow-topped grounds as he walked, his large footsteps crunching and breaking the smooth, pristine assemblage of snowflakes on the ground. My footprints were barely visible- I had been standing there so long. He wore a thick, black parka that swished as he walked and held a black pair of hockey skates underneath his arm and the tips of his ears and nose were red from the cold. His breath came out in clouds as he grinned at me. I thought about Jerrod F. Norris and his grin I am sure he showed my sister before he took her away.

I backed away from him without even realizing as he stepped toward the pond-crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch-and he looked at me for a moment, as if he were puzzled, and titled his head to the side.

He dropped his ice skates onto the snow, the little flurries of white snowflakes drifting through the air as they plopped reminding me of my own ice skates and how I just dropped them that day.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice sounding that kind of breathless that came from the cold, and he still smiled at me. “I was not meaning to insult your foot size or anything. They just look kind of small.”

He shrugged and then lifted a gloved hand to wave at me, friendly, as if I were standing feet away from him. “I am Franklin, by the way. I practice here on Wednesdays. I am going to try out for the hockey team next semester but I doubt it will happen because I suck, horribly. I accidentally did a split a few weeks ago. Only time will tell if I am still able to have children.”

You talk a lot, I thought to myself as I stared at him, almost in bewilderment, as if somewhere during his rushed, awkward words. I wondered if Jerrod F. Norris spoke a lot, if on the way to his car that he chewed her ear about his job, about the imaginary family he pretended he was visiting, about whether or not he thought his hockey abilities were proficient or not.

“I was just leaving,” I told him, gripping the laces of my ice skates tightly.

They were too small.

And Rain was gone.

“You don’t have to. I mean, the pond is pretty big. And I promise I would not intentionally injure you and if I do, I will apologize profusely.”

“That is quite alright.” I wanted to leave. I felt suffocated by his words that felt as if they should have been friendly; but to me, they felt double edged, they felt like a façade.

They felt as if they were concealing twisted and malevolent objectives that took place underneath the shelter of the pine trees in the snowy woods.

He stared at me for a moment. “Um, okay, then. Merry Christmas.”

I felt something strange in that moment as I heard him say that. I felt a twinge of something that pinched the nerves in my chests and in my eyes, and I felt my lips beginning to quiver. It barely felt like Christmas, not the Merry Christmas he was wishing me. He was wishing me something that was wrapped with golden paper and a dark, green bow and curled ribbon and peppermint candy canes hooked around the pine-scented branches of a Christmas tree. He wasn’t wishing me the Christmas I had of remembering the posters plastered on the storefront windows and the news talking about my sister so distantly and the fading image of her smile beaming at me.

“I do not really celebrate Christmas… er, Franklin.”

“Oh, you are Jewish? Sorry. Happy belated Hanukah, then.”

I shook my head. “I am not Jewish.” I felt my finger along the sharp blade of my ice skates, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the rectangular blade. I looked horrible. I looked broken.

“I am just... I really miss someone. She, uh… she is dead. Or at least, that is what they say, but I do not know even though they found her- or a piece of her- in the woods but I just…” I felt a burning tear glide down my frozen cheek. “I just do not really celebrate Christmas anymore.”

He blinked. He looked sad. His grin was gone. “You are Aer Wood.”

I nodded. “I am.” My voice was choked.

“I am really, really sorry.”

“Thanks, but that does not really matter. People think it does matter but it does not. The one person I want to be sorry is the one person who took her away. But he is not sorry. He says he is but he is not because a month after he stole Rain from me, he stole someone else and then he stole someone else. They caught him because he was trying to hide her. A little fragment of her, anyway. A hunter saw him, saw what he had. He actually shot him in the knee.”

“I heard.”

I swallowed, pressing my index finger deeper into the blade of my right ice skate. “He said he wanted to stop him because he has three daughters at home. He said good men do not bury pieces of little girls so he shot him.”

I looked up at the sky. It was gray and bleak, as if it were mourning too. “She was fourteen. Rain was older than that. She was seventeen. People acted as if it was worse that a fourteen year was murdered than a seventeen year old. It is horrible no matter. It does not matter how old you are.” I choked on my words. “She was supposed to rest in peace, not in pieces.”

“I am sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“I feel like I need to say it again.” He cleared his throat, and then unstrapped the Velcro from his gloves and ripped them off, dropped them onto the ground beside his large and bulky hockey skates, and tore off his beanie hat. He ran a hand through his black hair that matched his olive, Hispanic skin tone. “What was she like? Rain, I mean.”

I turned to look at him, away from the gray and bleak sky that felt so ominous, so looming, and so sad that I felt my heartstrings beginning to burst just looking at it. I almost felt glad that it was a bright and sunny day that she was taken. That when she was pressed on the ground that she had a warm, blue sky to look toward. “Rain was beautiful. Rain was fast.”

Rain was.

“Did she like the color blue?”

“No. She thought it was too generic. Everyone’s favorite is blue, she said. She loved purple.”

“The color of royalty.”

“That’s what she said.” I almost felt like smiling. I think Franklin noticed.

“Did she eat apples?”

“She loved apples, especially the green ones.”

“Granny Smiths.”

“They’re so sour, she loved it.” Then I did smile. Then he definitely did notice. “She liked the faces a really, really sour one made her make, how it would purse her lips and wrinkle her nose. But I think she just exaggerated it to make me laugh.”

“Did she read books?”

“She loved reading, sometimes she would read me to sleep.”

“Did she put marshmallows in her hot chocolate?”

“Yeah, but never the ones from those packages with the ones already in them. She hated those. They weren’t real marshmallows she said. Dehydrated memories of a marshmallow, she called them.”

He kept asking me questions like that, about her, about Rain. Which Muppet was her favorite, if she liked spicy food, if she wore socks when she slept, if she was an early bird or a night owl. I never would have admitted it to him as he asked various enquiries about the kind of person Rain was, asking me to imitate her laugh, and if her smile was kind of crooked like mine, but it felt almost okay to talk about her. My mother never could without crying, without swallowing back tears she had cried so many times before, and my father got angry when she was mentioned. I think if he remembered her then he remembered him and his mean, murky blue eyes so he tried never to think about her.

It felt almost okay to talk about Rain and not about the fact that she was gone, not that she was not whole, not that she was alone and afraid on Christmas Eve but that she liked Granny Smith apples, that her favorite Muppet was Beaker, that she slept barefoot. That Rain was not just a name on a list of short lives that were stolen by a man with mean, murky blue eyes. That Rain had more than just her last moments.

“I could come back tomorrow,” Franklin offered as the sun slipped away into the pine trees of the distant woods my sister supposedly was buried in and he picked up the hockey skates he never touched. He dusted the snowflakes from them. “I could ask you if she liked extra butter on her popcorn or diet drinks instead of regular ones.”

“No and no,” I replied.

I thought his face fell for a moment. I was confused. I replayed my last sentence in my mind. And then I felt my eyes instinctively widen and my mouth drop, my head shaking from side to side. “No, that is not what I meant! I meant that she, um, did not like extra butter on her popcorn or diet drinks. Not that you should not come back tomorrow but it is Christmas tomorrow so you will probably be busy and I might be too. My mother does try to pretend that Christmas is a normal holiday. She is not very good at it, but she tries.”

He smiled at me. “I could come here to practice around noon tomorrow. And if you are here then ... well, you will be here. We will probably exchange a word or two or something and ... ”

“I thought you only practiced on Wednesdays.”

“Well, I do suck so maybe adding Thursday practices to my day planner would be a good idea.”

I smiled down at the glimmering snowflakes beneath me. They looked like sparkling, fragile pieces of crystal accumulating on the ground. “Yeah,” I murmured, softly. “Maybe it would be.”

He grinned at me.

I felt the flutter my sister told me I would feel when I looked at a certain boy.

Rain was gone.

Rain was not whole.

Rain was not coming back.

But I think Rain was proud.

I think Rain is proud.

@fluffybunsss @thegreatsaiyaman3 @keenu-loves-to-talk-talkytalky @thelastdream @the-living-typo @quoted-text @nerdyfuntheorist @obsessedwithparkjimin @user-with-a-name @carmen-riddle @tookoool @kritiwritesss

[midnightseonghwa]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 | 𝐤.𝐲𝐬

𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐮 - 𝟒

✕𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Merman!Yeosang x Drowning!Reader  

✕𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Mermaid, Halloween Au, fluff 

✕𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k+

✕𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭: Arms crossed over your heart, you’re ready to fling yourself off the edge of a cliff but good thing Yeosang is there to save you.  Alternatively: “To hold a love that knows no elements.”  

✕𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Strong langauge, mentions of death, suicide and drowning. Yeosang is shirtless (he’s a merman...). He’s quite fascinated with you, slightly obsessive themes and stalkerish themes.

✕𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: Unedited

✕𝐀/𝐍: Remember that this is fiction. Enjoy! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. Leave a comment under this post or message me! Here is the mernman Yeosang...oh boy...how exciting! I hope you like it! I watched his v live where he wore the pumpkin hat and oh my god! He looked so cute with his little ponytail. This took me wayyyyyy too long to write and I know many of you were excited and stuff but like I’m not very satisfied with how this turned out? I will revisit this once I’m done with all au-s. 

✕𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @pancakes-for-teddy​

✕𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜: Here 

The waves crashed into the rocks under you as you peeked down at the sea with dried tear stains on your cheeks.

"(Y/n)," a voice called out from the back and you closed your eyes, not wanting to hear your brother's voice for a second longer.

"G-go...go away, Seonghwa," you said, your voice tight and scratchy. Hiccups escaped your mouth, each one making the bruises on your chest hurt more.

The ocean wind whipped at your hair, making it stick to your wet cheeks and the snot running down your face.

"(Y/n), you're being stupid again. Step away from there, now," he said and walked closer with his hand stretched out.

"That's all I am for you anyway. Stupid," you spat but your voice got lost in the wind, your sobs overpowering and breaking each syllable.

"Come on, (Y/n)..." Seonghwa huffed in distress and reached out further for you.

"You don't have to do this. Please, just think it through."

His words fell on deaf ears, every thought leaving your head empty and spiralling.

"I've thought about it enough, Seonghwa. It's time for me to take action."

With that, you crossed your arms over your thumping heart and threw yourself off the cliff, every regret leaving your body.

You were finally free.

Silence surrounded your shivering form as you floated through the blue abyss. It felt as if someone had stuffed cotton in your ears. The water felt smooth and silky and left every part of your skin caressed with the hands of the ocean.

The salt stung your eyes as you managed to open them. The world above you looking blue through the lens with the refracted rays of white sunlight hitting your form. Trying to desperately blink away any sort of illusion, you felt a burning feeling rise in your chest.

The fire was so great, spreading through your entire body before you started struggling, pushing yourself up with your hands but no matter how close you thought you were to the surface, you never seemed to reach it.

That's when you realised...you were going to die.

You had wanted it, standing above sea level, ignoring your brother. But now, all you really wanted was...air.

Were you really free?

Your hands thrashed around the water, trying to grab onto anything that might provide you with aid but the quiet hum of the ocean waves above you reminded you that there was nothing.

You were alone, just as you had been your entire life.

The pain in your chest started subsiding to a dull throb and you felt your eyes grow heavy, the liquid weighing down on them. Forcing them to stay open, you thrashed around with the last of your might but to no avail, you started fading.

Eyes fluttering close, you felt your throat close up, the last bit of oxygen leaving your body. With an impending sense of doom, you closed your eyes, hoping that the ocean would spit you out instead of swallowing you whole.

You coughed. Once, twice and a third time until you shot awake, salty water flooding out of your system, each hack paining your lungs and causing your body to shake. Your hair was stuck to your face, every strand, dead and dry as reached up to wring the water out of it.

The ground under your limbs was hard and cold. Icicles shooting up your legs, rendering them numb and disabled.

"You...you're awake," you heard someone call and take a breath of relief. Whipping your head around, you squinted and examined your surrounding trying to figure out if you were already dead or not.

"Purgatory sure is shit," you muttered and took a deep breath of the salty air before stopping and looking around again.

"Is purgatory under the ocean?" You asked, completely bewildered, feeling even more lost when a certain figure attracted the attention of your eyes.

"Who...?" You trailed off and rubbed at your eyes, the reminiscent salt making your eyes sting, scratching it raw.

The figure was looking at you with narrowed eyes. His skin and hair as pale as snow, the upper portion of his body completely...naked. His porcelain skin was almost glinting in contrast to the onyx rocks as he sat with his arms crossed across his chest.

"Who are you?" The question tumbled from your lips before your brain had even registered your situation.

"Kang Yeosang," he said and you heard a bit of splashing in the water below.

Curiously, you let your eyes drift down and almost screamed at the sight of a tail instead of legs. Pushing yourself against the hard rock wall, you swallowed the gasp that was threatening to bubble up your throat and clapped a hand over your mouth. Eyes roaming, you studied his tail. The rich blue scales glistened as the little light reflected off it and his fins curved in, delicately, a translucent blue. The scales looked as if they were sequins made of the finest sapphires and were sewed in by the most skilled hands.

A bit extravagant for a Halloween costume.

"You have a tail," you stuttered out and crawled forward to the edge of the rock platform you had been placed on. The water beneath you was a dark murky blue, the depths of it unfathomable as the creatures lurked underneath.

"You're stating the obvious," the male snorted and pushed himself off the rock, swimming towards you with an offhanded curiosity that glittered in his eyes.

Approaching your figure close to the jagged edge of the rocks, he held his hand out and you found yourself slowly leaning towards him, eyes wide as you got lost in his, the dark brown surrounding you with a sense of normalcy.

His touch was soft, unlike his narrowed eyes and snarky look. Dainty fingers traced your jaw as they tapped along your cheeks and played with your hair strands.

You observed all his sharp but delicate features as they matched the energy of the sea, every wave like his unflickering eyes. Before you knew it, you were leaning closer to the water, closer to where he was before he jerked you back by the shoulder, the tip of your nose almost touching the water.

"For a species that's supposed to be smart, you sure are stupid," Yeosang said and checked you over once before swimming further into the water. Resuming your position against the rock wall again, you brought your knees up to your chest, wiggling your toes to get rid of the freezing numbness was that was taking over.

"You humans have such odd features," Yeosang commented as he swam around a bit before resting his arms and head on the rock platform. His platinum blond hair stuck to his forehead as some of the strands came down into his eyes.

"And what do you know about humans?" You asked and narrowed your eyes a bit, getting oddly defensive at his careless comment.

"Nothing actually. I've always heard about them from my brothers. You're the first one I'm seeing up close."

Gulping, you crossed your legs and leaned against the rocks, the pointed edges digging into your back, making every small move uncomfortable.

"When can I go home?" You asked to no one in particular but Yeosang just snorted and flicked some water at you.

"The one I caught drowning, now wants to go home?"

There was a certain sarcasm in his voice that just didn't sit right with you. He had stabbed you right where the festering wound was and you bit your lip, swallowing every bit of abuse and inhaled the salty ocean air instead.

"Can you at least tell me where I am?"

Yeosang looked around, the moon had now risen on top of you and was visible from a tiny hole in the rocky walls.

"An island a couple kilometres from where you jumped," he said as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

You looked around once more, seeing nothing but saltwater dripping from onyx coloured rocks and more pointed edges.

"How do I get out of here?" You said Yeosang gave a bit of a sad look.

"Why would you want to leave? Just live here! You didn't want to live anyways so you can think of this as your fresh start." Yeosang rushed before his face turned a bright red and he ducked his head into the water.

The words that flew out of his mouth were fast and didn't quite register in your head until you went through every letter he had uttered.

"Huh...?" Were the only words that left your mouth until you heard a huff from Yeosang who had now begun to swim away. It was strange to you that a half fish-man would have any sort of fascination with you even if it was purely just scientific.

But then again, you are the first human he's ever seen up close.

You watched with a confused face as Yeosang's blue tail flipped on the surface before disappearing into the blue abyss again.

Yeosang swam through the reef as he came face to face with his older brother, Hongjoong.

"Where have you been?" He asked, the red scales on his tail resembling a fiery colour.

"Somewhere," Yeosang replied and tried to move past his brother when a hand caught him.

"Wooyoung said he saw you lurking by the surface again, says that you've brought a human into the ocean."

Hongjoong's voice was cold and hostile. In entire merfolk history, never has a human ever been intertwined with their kind and for good reason. Humans were simply just too extreme for their own good. See something pretty, they'll hunt it until it's extinct. See something foreign and they'll alienate it.

"And what if I have?" Yeosang bit back with a snarl in his voice getting defensive about the human he had been observing for a while now.

"What's so special about this human," Hongjoong said and Yeosang found himself thinking back to the first day he saw you.

You had been sitting on one of the rock clusters near the beach, crying. Bleeding from the strange fingers that you had attached to your lower body as you furiously wiped at the blood with seawater, only for it to sting some more.

Absolutely fascinated by your odd state, Yeosang found himself lurking by the surface often, just to catch a glimpse of you.

He heard those other humans call you by your names, (Y/n) and what a pretty name he thought it was. Prettier than any of the pearls he would collect from the sea.

And oh, how his heart almost stopped when he saw you floating alone in the empty ocean. He had seen you enough to understand that you couldn't breathe in water. You didn't have the gills he did at the side of his neck. You needed that foul-smelling air to survive.

"I saved that human," he replied watched as Hongjoong's eyes widened before narrowing distastefully.

"Where are you keeping the human?" He asked in a clipped tone and Yeosang's shoulder dropped before he told his elder brother of the small island he was keeping you on.

"Return this human to the surface, Yeosang. And make sure we never hear of this again."

With that, Hongjoong swam away, his red tail flicking aggressively as he pushed himself through the water disappearing from Yeosang's view.

Yeosang watched as his elder brother swam away with sad eyes. He had only begun to exchange a few words with you and his brother was already telling him to return you to the surface. But he knew the truth. Yeosang knew how much you hated the surface, there was nothing for you there! At least under the sea, you'd have him and maybe even his brothers after they come around.

Sinking to the ocean floor, Yeosang let out a few tears fall out of his eyes and watched as they turned to sea glass, hitting the sandy floor before getting washed away with the slow current.

He's going to have to return you to the surface.

You coughed. Once, twice and a third time until you shot awake, salty water flooding out of your system, each hack paining your lungs and causing your body to shake. Your hair was stuck to your face, every strand, dead and dry as reached up to wring the water out of it.

The ground beneath you was soft and warm and you were reminded of the warm sun that would often soak your bones as you played with Seonghwa in the backyard of your childhood home. It was different that time, the chilling cold of loneliness never cracked at your bones and you were satisfied with your, completely wholesome.

"You...you're awake," you heard a voice say as you sat up, clutching the back of your head in pain. You were half expecting the half fish-man to greet you again but instead, you saw Seonghwa's piercing gaze looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows.

"(Y/n), don't you ever do that again," he said as he collected you in his arms and held you close.

You bit back the feeling of sadness that bubbled up in the back of your throat. You never wanted to see Seonghwa again, your elder brother who had made the recent past of your life a living hell but yet, he tried to talk you down and then was also the one to find you.

You had every reason to be grateful to an extent.

"Seonghwa, just..." you trailed off and pushed your brother off you slightly, dusting the sand that clung to every crevice of your body.

A lump of green caught your eye as you moved to lift yourself up from the sand. Clutching the small parcel like thing, you unwrapped what seemed to be seaweed to find small pieces of translucent sea glass that thrummed under the sweltering sun of the beach. Each one had a blue-ish colour and the familiar blue hue of the half fish-man's tail crept into your head. Shaking your head, you wrapped the seaweed again and tucked the small parcel into drenched clothes.  

"Let's go home, (Y/n)," Seonghwa said as he pulled you forcefully towards town.

Looking back over your shoulder one last time, you blinked as you saw a mop of platinum blond hair bop in the ocean. Just as you snatched your hand out of Seonghwa's to go closer, the ocean stilled again, leaving you with nothing but the curling waves.

"You're thinking about that human," San, one of Yeosang's brothers stated with a sigh as he settled next to Yeosang on the rock.

"No..." Yeosang trailed off and watched the fragments of sea glass drift away into the ocean current that glittered under the sunlight.

"Yes, you are," San pushed and Yeosang just sighed, ripping one of the seaweeds out of its roots and tearing it apart in frustration.

"I'm just so fascinated by (Y/n). There's something about that human that calls to me, San," he said and pouted at the fish that floated through the coral reef.

"Then go to them," San concluded with a determined tone and Yeosang just looked at his brother with narrowed eyes.

"Hongjoong would never allow that," he said and flicked the end of his tail,  losing all hope and sulking.

San sighed in frustration and grabbed Yeosang by the arm, dragging him through the ocean by his arm, inching closer to the surface.

Breaking through the water surface, San and Yeosang settled near a cluster of rocks, the wind whistling and mixing with the ocean sunlight.

Human littered the shore, some walking their dogs and others just sitting on the sand. Yeosang's eyes searched for yours but in a crowd filled with strange limbs, he never saw yours.

"(Y/n)'s not here" he sighed and dived back into the ocean, San following.

As Seonghwa dragged you through town, you found yourself cowering under the gaze of all the individuals you thought you had left behind. The stares and the whispers, isolating you from the world just as they had before.

Seonghwa didn't stop until he had reached your room and pushed you inside of it.

"You're going to stay here until I deem it safe for you to go out again. What do you think mother and father would've thought if they saw you now, huh?" He demanded and you hung your head in shame.

The sound of Seonghwa exiting the room and locking the door echoed through the drab grey walls as you sat on the single bed with white bedsheets wallowing away in your self-pity and loneliness as you had in the past.

Days passed and you found yourself teetering on the edge of insanity, with nothing but the grey walls staring back at you.

Trying your luck for the fourth time today, you banged your hand against the door as the sound of footsteps shuffled closer.

"Seonghwa...please...just please let me out. I'm going to crazy in here," you cried and banged on the door one last time before your brother's face appeared in front of you.

"(Y/n)," he sighed and pushed a plate of food into your hands before closing the door again.

Only this time, you jammed your foot in between, preventing your elder brother from closing the door.

"What-" he started but wasn't able to finish as you thrust the plate of food into his hand, shoving him aside and running towards the front door and throwing yourself to the wind.

Seonghwa watched with frustration in his eyes as you ran, barefoot through the town.

This time, he'd have to let you go, his little sister.

Yeosang yelped with peaking curiosity and a racing heart as he saw a human sitting on the same cluster of rocks he had first seen you on. Said human was bleeding from their toes, scrubbing at them with saltwater furiously.

The merman found himself thinking about you again as he inched closer, hoping it was you.

Ripples formed in the water under you, causing you to look up and squint into the distance. A familiar blue tail diving into the distance caught your attention as you hurried to your feet, diving into the ocean again, trying your best to follow the tail.

The gashes on your feet stung with the salt being rubbed in the wounds but you wanted to catch the blue tail. Your lungs burned, the lack of oxygen reaching your head, making you dizzy.

Before you knew it, a hand reached to grab your ankle, pulling you close and into their chest. You opened your eyes, eyeball stinging as you saw Yeosang in front of you, his platinum blond hair sticking up in the water.

You opened your mouth in shock, a rush of bubbles leaving your mouth as Yeosang drew you close and pressed his lips to yours.

There was a sense of urgency in the kiss, desperation that you had never felt as he moulded his lips against yours, air entering your system, flooding it to life.

You pushed yourself away from him, feet kicking as you tried to reach the surface, clawing at our throat to rid the closing feeling.

Yeosang rubbed at your arms in an indication to calm down.

"(Y/n), just calm down and take deep breaths," he said and but you shook your head and continued to struggle, pulling away from him with thrashing arms.

He was trying to kill you.

"Just please, let me go. I'll find a way to go back to the island you had held me on, I don't want to die like this," you said and breathed in only for Yeosang to chuckle and stroke your cheek.

He found you so impossibly endearing that his brother's words felt like some sort of blur in his mind.

"You can breathe fine," he said and let you go, only for you to freeze up and take another breath just to make sure you weren't dreaming.

Your throat opened up and found yourself taking deeper inhales just to put Yeosang's theory to test.

"Holy shit," you whispered as you stared at the blue-tailed boy in front of you.

"How did you...what did you?" Your lack of words made Yeosang smile as he swam towards you slowly, pulling you by the arm and leading you deeper into the water,

The water shimmered under the sunlight that reached the surface as the bottom morphed into an inky blue. Fish of different colours swam by you as they tickled your skin, giggles escaping you at the sensation.

Yeosang stayed quiet as he watched you marvel at everything his world could offer.

If only he was a human or you were a mermaid, maybe he would have an actual chance at winning your heart. This thought made Yeosang frown as his heart dropped to his stomach. His sensitive scales bristled against the water due to his sudden mood change and you felt the water around you get colder.

"Are you okay, fish-man?" You asked and drew your eyebrows in with concern.

Yeosang shook his head and scoffed lightly, trying his best to change his mood and divert your attention to another topic.

"My name isn't fish-man. It's Yeosang, I've already mentioned it to you before."

There was a tone of annoyance in his voice and you couldn't help but give him a playful smile which he happily returned.

Swimming further, Yeosang led you back to the small island where you had first woken up.

Hosting yourself up onto the rocks, you looked around at the drab atmosphere and inhaled, feeling good to have some oxygen in you.

"Isn't there any vegetation here?" You asked and Yeosang just tilted his head in confusion.

"This is the only part that's connected to the water. You can try and find a way out but I won't be able to help you," he said and brought the tip of his fins out of the tail, flicking some water at you.

"Oh, alright," you said, slightly disheartened at the reminder that Yeosang wasn't human like you.

Yeosang must have seen the drop of your expression as he quickly swam up to you and hoisted himself up so that he was at the same level as you.

"You'll never be alone, though," he said and pushed some of your wet hair out of your face.

"You're still a stranger to me," you whispered back and he smiled.

"You're not one to me and I'll try my best to not be one to you either. Although now that I've saved your life twice, I would say we're past the stranger phase."

You gave a dry laugh and squeezed some of the water out of your clothes causing the seaweed wrapped sea glass fragments to fall out.

You reached up to tuck it back into your clothes when Yeosang's hand grabbed it first.

"You...you found this?" He asked and you nodded, slightly scared he was going to accuse you fo stealing something precious.

"What is it?" You asked, voice pitchy as you tried to hide your growing panic.

"My tears," he said and you found all panic fade as sadness replaced it instead.

Silence lingered in the air as you stared at the translucent blue glass pieces.

"I'm sorry," you whispered and he just shook his head.

"It's alright, I left them with you for a reason. I just didn't think you would find them, let alone keep them," he finished and pushed himself back into the water.

"They're very tragically beautiful," you said and laid them out in front of you. They had faded in colour a little but they still no doubt resembled Yeosang's blue tail.

"My brothers just don't understand my fondness for you," he sighed and pushed himself below the water before raising his eyes to meet you again.

You pushed your legs forward, just enough to dip your toes into the water.

Yeosang swam around in circles before stopping in front of you.

"Hey, (Y/n)," he said and cocked his head like a little puppy asking for a treat.

You hummed in response, completely ignoring the fact that he knew your name even though you never told him.

"Who's that human that always makes you sad? He was there when I saw you jump from the cliff."

The question made you stiffen and stare at your toes as they dipped in and out of the water.

"His name's Seonghwa...he's my elder brother," you said and Yeosang just nodded, oddly watching your legs.

"I don't like him," he concluded like a small child and you laughed, tilting your head back and Yeosang swore it was the prettiest sound that had ever graced his ears.

"I don't either," you said and rested your chin on your folded elbows that were rested on top of your knees.

"I can sacrifice him to the sirens, if you want," Yeosang suggested and you laughed again.

"That's so romantic," you said and smiled at the way Yeosang's face lit up.

"Anything for you," he said and your heart soared at the declaration. This half fish-man wore his heart on his sleeve and it seemed as if it was for you.

"Thank you, that'd be nice."

Silence once again engulfed the atmosphere as you watched Yeosang play with the water. It was comforting to hear the water drip from the jagged edges of the rock.

"Hey, (Y/n)," he asked once again and you raised your head.

"Yeah?"

"What are those strange things attached to your lower body?" He asked with a certain childlike innocence that made you want to coo and stroke his hair.

"You mean..." you sniggered and pulled your legs closer.

"My legs?" Your lips curled up into a smile as you broke out into the heartiest laughter that ever racked your body.

"Oh, they're called legs. What about those small fingers?" He said and touched one of your toes, swimming back slightly when you wiggled them in his face.

"They're called toes," you said and watched in inhumane curiosity as Yeosang inspected them, only to bring his face close and sniff them.

"What are you- no! You're not supposed to put them in your mouth! Yeosang, stop!"

The waves crashed onto the shore as you peeked down at the sea with a smile on your face.

The sun was bright above your head as the cool wind blew through your hair, making you close your eyes and reminisce in the feeling.

"(Y/n)," you heard a voice call and you giggled at the smooth tone of the voice that was calling your name.

"Are you ready?" Yeosang called and you smiled, crossing your arms over your chest and jumping into the water below, squealing due to the pure delight.

Landing in the water with a gush of bubbles, Yeosang wrapped you in his arms, pulling you close for a kiss as he gifted you with the ability to breathe underwater.

"Let's go," he said and you nodded, letting yourself be pulled by Yeosang as you watched his blue scales twinkle in the ocean and his tail flicker seamlessly along with the current.

You were finally free.