#6k chapter

[stylezxsilvermoon]

blue ice | chapter five: kill my mind

❝cause you're a force of nature look at what you've done I can taste the danger but I don't wanna run so pull me to the ground and I won't put up a fight i'm a caution taker, but baby you're a force of nature❞

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

CHAPTER FIVE: KILL MY MIND

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

Harry

Through his lips electricity surged through my soul.

The kiss was eccentric as we collided against each other in the most perfect way I couldn’t explain. It made my brain melt into mush and my body crave it constantly as the seconds went on and our bodies moved against each other. And it felt endlessly wrong to extends higher than the skies above, but we just couldn’t seem to tear away.

Our lips moved like running water against rocks in a rushing stream, desperate to reach the end, the fall. The serenity and the peace within our heated kiss made my head spin and my body react strangely as I quickly became addicted.

His lips made me intoxicated and dizzy as my body fought for air between our lips colliding over and over and over. My mind was running wild with a million thoughts a minute, why and how was this happening I thought?

I didn’t know what could have happened next, only in this moment my mind erupted with want and a prying essence of new feelings pouring out of my heart and searing their way onto his cherry red lips. His breath fanned over me as I felt him shake his head, denying what had already been done and fated as a spark erupted in the both of us.

I pulled him closer to me as I whispered sweet nothings, a tender moment after a clandestine kiss.

The look in Louis’ eyes screamed a version of a terror dream I could never comprehend, or perhaps it was a nightmare. Perhaps I would never know I repeated to myself as I tried to make sense of it all.

Louis stumbled backwards, creating space between us as our eyebrows furrowed. After such a heated kiss space was usually not needed, yet he couldn’t feel more far away than now.

He ran his hands through his hair as his eyes rushed red as a vein popped out from the skin of his forehead, almost seeming angry but at himself and the world as I observed it all from a close distance. Not knowing what to do at all in this strange moment where everything felt as if was all a dream. Floating in a reality that was artificial, but potent and raw like the feeling of the sun encasing your body with bright joy and erupting fireworks of fantastically fascinating fantasies.

“Fuck- Harry that shouldn’t have happened.” He said as his voice was strained with worry as he looked around frantically searching for an answer as none seemed to be known to him or I or the space around us.

After an eternity the elevator opens, and Juniper greets us at the door as she stands in shock as if she saw through the entire scene of Louis and I locking lips as my cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“Did you see that?” I asked whisper quiet, barely audible only for Juniper, Louis, and I to hear in the empty hallway as our voices echoed in the empty hallway like a ghost town.

“Oh, only all of it.” She spoke casually with sarcasm laced in her words like an addictive drug. My eyes widened as my mind raced to an invisible deadline that was nowhere in sight, and the thought was terrifying.

Overwhelming feelings cascade over me like a waterfall of bright colors, mixed together and creating new emotions that can’t find their way to untangle with each other. As if they’re meant to be forever intertwined, but in the mix of dark and light in my mind, there is no clear answer, there is no clear ending and beginning, only existing, only forward on.

“Harry?” Louis asks quietly, only audible to my ears as if he was a heartbeat away, my eyes focused on him as he dwindled his fingers as his eyes twinkled with crystal light.

And as clear as his ocean was, it was rocky with thunderous storms coating the entire sea.

And I was trapped directly in the middle of it all.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Louis

As I come to the sense of reality is real and all of this isn’t some distinct cruel dream that I’ve been forced to believe is law; I come to realize my feelings for Harry are more than I thought they ever were before.

And forevermore they give me a light feeling as if I was flying, but I have no clue if they are here to stay, but the flutter in my heart begins to say otherwise.

My heart beats wildly as Juniper Harry and I all sit on the couch cushions of our overgrown hotel room that’s a mix between a deluxe suite and an apartment.

Rain beats down on the land below of Lythorn as thunder booms and crackles mercilessly on every living person in this town, and even the dead.

Only the glow of the TV creates a background noise in the back of my head as I look to Harry in the silence, unsure of what to say.

Juniper looked to us as she left the room cautiously as I pondered to where she was going. But alas only time could tell the tales long forgotten.

Suddenly, a new though plots its way into my brain as I’m trapped in a never-ending reality of scattered thoughts and the only calm in the storm seems to be the emerald in Harry’s green eyes.

“Yeah?” Harry finally answers as I look to him with a raging storm in my eyes. Unable to control the next moment, swept up in the strong current that kept me fighting for air in the headspace that I was in.

“When we kissed, did you feel anything?” I asked quaintly as Harry looked to the floor for a moment as the small flame in my heart began to fizzle out as I felt shame after the words I was dying to say went clumsily past my lips. In only a whisper.

“I felt something Louis, I did. Once I kissed you, I couldn’t stop.” Harry admitted truthfully as I blushed wildly at his confession.

But alas, all of this felt so wrong, with Milo being none the wiser that I had gotten myself into a strange English love affair that seemed to weave its way between my heartstrings.

But, with Harry everything felt oddly strange, of course, forbidden but, as if it was meant to be. Something in me compelled it to be truth, to be law, tangible and palpable.

“Harry, there’s something between us, and I don’t know what, but whatever it is, it’s dangerous. The second I threw my thoughts out the window when I kissed you is when I knew I couldn’t avoid it anymore.” I confessed as I looked into his eyes as we sat in the quiet pale dim light of the lamp next to the hotel living room couch.

Harry swallowed heavily before he said another word, inching closer but still worlds away from the final ending. My lips almost itched to be on his again, his warm body against mine is what I craved.

Then, it struck me like lightning in a sea storm.

My feelings for Milo didn’t even compare to what a relevance, an enchantment Harry’s aura had swarmed me in. It all felt so surreal, but I knew there was no going back from this.

And I wouldn’t ever want to.

“Well that dangerous, is addictive Louis, and I think that I like you.” Harry spoke quietly as he leaned his face closer to mine with a hushed whisper tucking in between his strawberry red lips as his breath fanned in my face.

His innocent smile paired with the flirty aura dancing around us like sugar canes in a children’s Christmas daydream had my head beginning to spin. Though I’d soon be coming down to earth as I looked into Harry’s eyes without saying a single word.

Not a single breath left my body as I discovered what I already knew.

That was then, I knew.

“I think I like you too, Harry.” I said as I tasted his name on my lips as I’d quickly rather the taste of his on mine.

As my body inched closer to his innocent sparks flew around us as they lit up a fire deep inside us that raged and demanded to be set free from its cages.

And as soon as the fire could be set, it came alive with the touch of his hands against mine. Our fingers intertwined as they spread and planted deep roots in our souls like trees in a dark forest. His anchor tattoo intertwined with my ropes as our souls tied together in this dangerous dance amongst the fires of forbidden things never to touch the surface of the pure and iridescent.

“Louis?” Harry questioned, his deep voice echoing the hotel room as my ears perked up at the sound of his gravely tone.

“Yes?” I reply mischievously with a hint of something indescribable in my eyes as I looked towards him. Dark swirls of emotion cascade into my bloodstream and present themselves through my senses as everything seems to have a hazy rose-colored hue over it.

“Kiss me.” He whispers in one breath quickly as he does a onceover of me and the remainder of the room.

“This feels so horribly wrong, but I couldn’t care.” I replied back to him as my self conscious was already weighing the options, but the grief and guilt I would carry for this was already worlds heavier.

I looked into his eyes as the amber-colored light set everything alive as the skies turned a stormy blue as thunder roared and shook the building and my soul to its core.

His lips met mine with a fury light brighter than the lights when you met heaven, and darker than the blood curdling red that is described as hells unwelcoming home.

Our lips glided against each other like a skier on a slippery winter’s slope. My body melted against his as I found myself on top of him, hands intertwined and so were our souls.

A rainbow of emotion busted from the deep depths of my stomach as it kept my body aflutter and floating around this heavenly feeling that had covered me in an ivy like substance, spreading deep and searing into our kiss.

And the ivy was Harry, it was Harry.

I grabbed his face gingerly as his mouth opened gradually to meet my awaiting tongue as it slipped dangerously and slowly into his mouth as I explored it, claiming every territory as if it was my own.

His strong fame incased my smaller body as if his heart was destined to fit in mine.

“L-Lou, fuck that was good. Really good.” Harry said gasping for air as I looked to where his body and mine connected as I was straddling him on top of his lap.

He sat up leaning against his palms on the couch as I ran a hand through my hair as we sat quietly. Blushing and simply wondering what this whole ordeal would turn into. A flame incased my heart, not daring to burn or to spread, just to fuel the fire that Harry had set inside of me.

Harry smirked at me infamously as he looked to me happily as if I was the sun, incasing the whole sky as the biggest star.

And maybe, I was, maybe... I could be.

This was the very first page of something unknown, and Harry had written it, deep in the depths of oceans of romance and clandestine forbidden love. And maybe I could discover the unknow, with Harry.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I sat on my bed quietly after the confusing aura around the universe had left. As usual I watched the news as they continued to update the public about the case.

I watched as my eyes flickered around the room for something to fill the time. Eventually I laid down on the bed fully from my supine position and ran a hand through my hair as I found myself here, in the silence alone.

I pondered to how Juniper and I would continue the case as new evidence seemed to present itself in my brain as I was sitting in silence.

I hoped that we would find a lead suspect by now, but unfortunately it almost feels like we’re running in circles with each lead we get. Though hopefully with my lead about the brambleberry bush and Erika’s killer knowing of her identity before she was murdered would eventually lead to something.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I continued to chase my wild thought as I had nothing better to do except think of how we would eventually solve this case.

But it didn’t make any sense, how would her killer even though she was in the forest that afternoon, unless she was lead, or.. someone was with her.

A new possibility opened as I continued my thought as my mind and heart raced as I could be on to something! At least, I hoped that I was.

I grabbed my investigator notepad that I carried around to jot down important things about suspects or leads in cases. I looked to the pen and paper as my mind roared to life like a car in dormant rest in a Nasar race. Ready to race to the finish line, to the conclusion of the murder.

It would make sense that someone could have been with Erika that day, there had to be, and where there’s someone else, there’s witnesses.. and there’s a lead.

I pondered to whom, and what they could have done with that information that Erika was no longer alive. Or they could have killed her themselves, if they were the person responsible for her death, this could be a major lead in the case!

Suddenly my ears perked up at the sound of a breaking news story. I wondered what it could be as I sat up slowly to look to the TV as the newsman spoke carefully at the new information.

“Breaking news, boyfriend of slain Erika Blokes is admitted to the Lythorn Police Office, insiders say that he could be involved with Erika’s murder. Police Chief Liam Payne says top detective and investigator on the case are to meet with the suspect in question at the department headquarters later today, back to you.” The newsman concluded as I shut off the tv as my phone rang not a moment later, in no doubt it was the chief calling us in.

I picked up the phone with no haste as Liam’s voice echoed on the other end of the phone as Juniper knocked on my door quietly as she stepped in to hear the important phone call.

She smiled to me as Chief Payne disclosed the important information that we would need before heading over to the station.

“Tomlinson, we’ve got Erika’s ex-boyfriend Jake Collins, he claims he was at the crime scene when she was killed. I’m gonna need you and Young to get over here quickly. By the looks of it, kids’ a mess, I think you may be able to milk a confession outta him.” Liam spoke in a serious tone as I nodded as another officer at the police department was on the phone with Juniper as well as we both ended our calls. We looked to each other for a quick moment as we both know what we had to accomplish. Though I couldn’t believe I was spot on! I shrugged my shoulders excitedly as I was already hyped up to know more information on this lead we had. Though now I could be confident the case would go more smoothly than I thought.

Though Anna’s case still had to be considered, because it was linked with her sisters whatever information we would get from this would most likely carry over to her ‘mysterious’ disappearance. Though I still believe that there was more to what happened to Anna that day. And hopefully, she truly hadn’t suffered the same fate as her sister, after all.

Their mother had mentioned that Erika had went on about looking for Anna, and she still had hope that she could still be alive, even after all of these years. Anna most likely had been lured, and unfortunately by my beliefs, so was her sister.

Though setting up the case for a major turn new information would most definitely have an impact on the final verdict. Though it’s far from over.

We’re just getting started

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Juniper

The car ride to the station was quick, the sun setting swiftly in the sky as it almost looked as if we were chasing it as we were chasing the traffic to the department. Desperate to get the reigns on this new lead in the case that had already run rapid out of control thanks to the news coverage.

I looked to Louis as my words were caught in my throat as he kept his hands firm on the steering wheel, though wearing a small smile on his face from his ‘earlier’ endeavors. I rolled my eyes at that thought but smiled just the same.

I couldn’t be the one to bring it up to him, but whether he likes it or not I couldn’t pretend I didn’t hear what I heard back at the hotel between Harry and him. Though nonetheless Milo always seemed eerie towards Louis ever since I had known him. Always so far but never close enough. As if he never had a grasp on what he truly wanted. All those years Louis pondered, and wondered what the relationship was to blossom into with the days, weeks, months and years to become. But I wasn’t sure if they ever amounted to anything, and neither did Louis.

Though the seemingly blooming feelings that were blown around in the airs of caution almost seemed to be a seedling of something to be, and what could be. I couldn’t deny that Louis’ feelings for Milo were always so strong, but now it seems like Luis would reflect on all that wasted time, and decided to start anew.

Time could not tell this curious tale, only heart, truth and an aura of something simpler, something wiser, something purer would come to pass.

Louis pulled into the station quickly as news anchors were already swarming the building as it made it difficult to actually get into the police station without running into unknown people at the Lythorn news department.

One thing I had noticed about the people of Lythorn, was that they were always attentive to what mattered, always searching for more information as it came to them. They were always lusting for more, and more had come... with the new light of the case.

“What is going on?!” A newscaster asked as many more began barking inaudible questions at us as we began to get out of the car and attempt to go into the police station. Despite the madness, the chief of police and officer Horan walked out of the station and escorted us into the building amid all of the newspeople’s allegations and looming questions.

“At this time the case is still pending, we think we may have the suspect in question, but we won’t releasing any names since he is a minor.” I concluded as the newspeople began shoving more microphones towards us as Louis waved them off and refused to answer any of their many questions casually.

“Louis why aren’t you telling them anything?!” I questioned confusingly as Louis stopped in his tracks and turned around to face the looming questions that were yet to be answered.

The cloudy grey skies that surely loomed a storm could not match the look in Louis’ eyes at this moment. He looked to me in indescribable way as he went out of his way to answer the questions quickly before going inside.

“Just wanna be sure before we tell the public anything June-bug, I feel like we’ve got it, and I don’t want to mess it up.” Louis nodded solemnly as I shook my head with understanding.

“We’ll get this Louis, don’t worry.” I said comfortingly as he smiled to me and embraced me in a quick hug as we both went inside.

“So, what’s it looking like Officer.” Louis nodded to Niall as he began to speak on the outlook on the situation with the kid.

“Kid’s a wreck; said he’s ready to confess to whatever you tell ‘em. Don’t know what the hell’s going on in that kid’s brain but he’s properly petrified.” Niall nodded as he sipped his coffee as he picked it up off his desk with the label ‘HORAN’ on it as I took note of it.

“Well Niall how would you fell if you’re girlfriend got murdered and you spoke up about it and police want to haul you into the station?” I questioned playfully as Niall shrugged and lead us further into the station we saw when we first got into Lythorn.

I thought back to that very first day we passed the ‘welcome to Lythorn’ sign, it felt like forever ago in retrospect. But I couldn’t decide whether whatever was going to happen next would have a major impact on our lives moving forward. But however it turned out I knew that we would definitely remember this for a long time going forward. But there’s much more road to cover in this case, but there’s only so much you can go from without running into a dead end.

All this time we’ve been searching for an answer, but I knew that the answer would come in riddles we’d have to decipher. And right now, the road to hope was running short.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

As time went on, we patiently awaited the arrival of the conclusion to the final question of the day. Whether or not Jake Collins killed Erika Blokes. Or what does Anna’s disappearance have to do with it all.

Or possibly, I pondered, could she never be dead at all? What if she was alive all this time and we had it all wrong? After all that has happened so far, I wasn’t ruling anything out until we had a sure answer and every possibility of a doubt was buried and set in stone to make no return to the case.

Though one thing still left my heart aflutter, and my brain ablaze, if Jake had truly killed Erika, what reason could he possibly have to do that? It made no sense, though the theory I had was merely circumstantial, something told me that he hadn’t done it, but I couldn’t be sure until we had questioned him.

Erika’s killer knew of her before she was killed, or else she wouldn’t have been in the brambleberry thicket that afternoon. Perhaps she was chased? I wondered, or led, my brain continued on to make a multitude of conclusions inside of my head that could eventually come to pass.. but I would never know if they would after all.

“Louis, Juniper, Mr. Collins is in room 2B, I’ll be accompanying you into the room. He isn’t being held on any charges, this is just a meeting between us and him to get some information, go easy on him.” A unknown but seemingly familiar voice said wearyingly, I turned to the direction of the voice, desperate to the answers buzzing around my head in nonstop motion. I looked at the features across her face, Aurora. I had known her well as a smile etched upon my face at her presence, she smiled to us as Louis ran over and gave her a hug before she led us to the room Jake was no doubt to be in.

“Rory, how are you love?” Louis said excitedly as she giggled quietly as she was embraced in his warm hold. They broke apart quickly as they both realized there was more work to be done. But that couldn’t stop a small smile from creeping on my face slowly seeing the both of them so filled with joy.

The story of Louis and Aurora is sweet with a bittersweet twist of an ending, as far as I remember Aurora had moved in with Louis’ family early in their relationship, after a mysterious fire committed by an arsonist that was driving the city of Doncaster rampant. Then not soon after the two became quickly bonded like siblings but as they drifted into their college years, moreover when Louis and Milo began their premature romance the spark between Aurora and Louis faded out into a darkness of unexplainable proportions.

Suddenly, one night Aurora had mysteriously flown out of the city of Doncaster in search of bigger things that were unknown to all of us. To this day I still wonder where she went or what she could have been up too during that time, though the tale has told itself now that she is present and back again in our hearts and minds.

“I’m wonderful Lou! Now, we can talk all about this later, there’s a possible murderer waiting in room 2B!” Aurora rushed in all seriousness with a mix of playful tone in her voice as we both descended down the dark hallway.

I looked to the fading sun as it dipped down in the sky over the horizon while warm colors left a temptation for warmer weather as it left many of us to wonder when the sun would rise up again, would we rise to the challenge to complete the deep depths of this case.

Or would we sink to the bottom, cold, forgotten and completely out of options.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Author

The cold interlude of the examining room stands to reason why Jake Collins was absolutely terrified of the people facing him on the opposite side of the room.

He almost felt as if he was bait for sharks, the case of his late girlfriends sister hadn’t gone on for years, as soon as they found a single piece of evidence that could stand to reason for the crime. He knew they would act fast to solve it.

And he was their bait, he was their target.

At least, it illuded to be as such, but all would be revealed as he began to give more information to the rather short investigator and detective duo sitting across from him.

“We’re just here to ask you a few questions lad, tell me what did you see that day?” Louis asked Jake quietly as he looked around the room, avoiding the handsome investigator’s eyes and glance, afraid of what might be lying under his ocean eyes. Could it be evil, or magic? Jake whispered to himself as his mind created delusions that he couldn’t tell apart from reality.

And with his body spinning out of control, Jake tried to gain sense of it all. After all, he wouldn’t want Erika to die in vain, so he did what anyone else would do.

He looked him in the eye and sold his soul.

To whatever forces were above, he hoped his information would help catch the killer who took Erika from Jake.

Who took Erika from everyone?

“Erika had said she seen a shadow as we were walking. And I shook off the eerie feeling because it was still daylight, though walking in the historian’s brambleberry thicket wasn’t such a good idea. But we were hopeful, until they appeared out of nowhere.” Jake spoke quietly as Aurora entered all the information he was revealing to them into the filing system for the Lythorn police department.

“They? Did you see their face?” Louis questioned as Jake nodded his head with a no, he continued on the story he had memorized ever since that day, hoping he wouldn’t lose the reigns on the memory just yet.

He couldn’t let it fade, not ever.

“No, but Erika was searching for her sister Anna. She was still hopeful that she was alive, that was why we were there that day, investigator.” Jake gulped quietly as he felt a heavyweight upon his shoulders for something he thought would be easy. But as it came to pass, nothing was ever easy in the sights of a cold case turned reopened murder investigation.

“We were planning to run away together to find her, because there’s this rumored old village linked to the town off shore of the river. But you can’t ever see it because its deep on some sort of island off shore. And it’s always raining so… the fog covers it.” Jake continued as Juniper and Louis nodded as they continued to intake the information.

“She was really deadest on finding her sister?” Juniper asked as Jake nodded with certainty.

“She was, she had almost driven herself mad about it. She created all these theories and ideas of how the police went wrong. She really had hope when she discovered you two were being added to the investigation of her sisters case. She wanted to help, that’s why we had went to search for her. Because Erika, Anna and I had always played in those woods when we were little kids. But never this deep into it, as we were.” Jake continued as Louis looked to Juniper suspiciously at his choice of words.

“Driven mad, you say? So... she was driven mad about her sister being gone and you two were driven mad about running away together, why were you ever going to do that?” Louis questioned as he furrowed his eyebrows at the teen sitting across from him.

As the light shone on his eyes, he looked as if he was a deer caught in headlights. Jake’s mouth went slack, as if he was at a loss for words.

“Because I didn’t want her to go alone. And there’s too many memories of this old town and bad things happening to good people. Neither of us could take it any longer, and now look what’s happened.” Jake spoke defeatedly as he held his head in his hands.

Louis and Juniper both looked to each other. As the sun set on this conundrum of a day, there was only one thing for certain in this world.

They now knew who the killer was.

And it couldn’t have been Jake.

But mysteries loom where madness and curiosity begin to fill in the blanks, so as more information is revealed. The more the both of them begin to suspect the true answer was in front of them all along.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

After the examination with Jake, Louis drove Juniper and himself back to the hotel. The city lights at night created a perfect scenery for a picturesque dream. Though the events of today only added up to nothing short of an absolute nightmare.

But it was real, and there was no escaping it.

“So... Louis?” Juniper questioned quietly with a hint of something mischievous in her voice, but it was hidden between bookends of something more. Something pure, something iridescent was in the air, was it love? Was it trust?

It wasn’t to be known what was in the air, but to who was spreading the toxin, the antidote, and the sickness to all of this confusion that loomed in the streets of Lythorn. All of the chaos, all of the history and all of the new blood incased in a messy murder cased seemingly turned bad.

“Yes June-bug?” Louis questioned carefully as he kept his eyes on the road, seeing the blue moon hotel in plain sight as the traffic began to ease up and become lighter as Louis’ car raced down the streets towards home.

A temporary home, at least.

“Do you like Harry?” Juniper finally revealed as Louis looked to her with an offended look on his face.

“Why would you ask that, June we’re in the middle of a murder case and you’re asking me if I like fucking Harry love! Jesus!” Louis said defensively as he simply refused to answer the question at this time.

Why were his feelings for Harry important anyway? He questioned quietly to himself. Though he couldn’t deny the way his heart seemed to fit perfectly in his hands was all he ever searched for, and all he ever wanted.

But he couldn’t be drawn to him, could he?

“Tommo answer the question you wank!” Juniper said immaturely as she hit his shoulder lightly and playfully as he continued to drive through the traffic.

Louis rolled his eyes and let out a string of curse words before finally answering with a small yes, that could barely be heard audibly over the traffic.

“I knew it,” Juniper said accomplishedly “you thought I didn’t hear you guys making out in there, you practically forgot we’re in the same hotel room Louis! Walls are thin you know.” Juniper said with a smirk as Louis licked his lips at looked to her for a split second before stroking his chin and looking back to the traffic.

“But, in all seriousness darling it feels so wrong. But I can’t help but want him, it’s impossible!” Louis admitted as silence fell over the both of them.

“But you and Milo Louis, I mean you know how he is, you two just..” Juniper started as her sentence fizzled out into a little over nothing as Louis nodded in understanding.

“I know, we’ve been on and off for years and I just feel like he doesn’t want what I want. Relationships are all about love and trust and it all just feels so artificial, why can’t it feel the same as Harry an I do? Am I the problem?” Louis voiced sincerely as Juniper shook her head and dismissed him.

“No... it’s just, you and Milo are just strange together you know? And for years you’ve been trying to make it work but he just keeps tearing it down, I know how hard you’ve worked Louis, I just don’t think it’s built to last.” Juniper voiced solemnly as Louis nodded finally, in defeat.

“I feel like a dirty cheater, well that’s because I am. I’ve always felt safe with Milo, I’ve just never wanted anything else, and now Harry is here and he’s making me feel shit! Dammit!” Louis said as he held his head in his hands at the stop light as I hugged him sincerely as we shared a moment together.

“Don’t you remember when Milo allegedly had that fling with that girl when you guys were on a ‘trial’ breakup senior year of high school? Isn’t that how you feel right now?” Juniper asked in all seriousness as Louis’ eyes widened in understanding.

Now he finally knew.

“I still don’t believe that, it’s bullshit, just some stunt to bring his football career down, you know she was spying with our rival back then.” Louis mentioned playfully as Juniper hit him on the shoulder again as Louis let out a laugh at their silliness on the drive back to the hotel.

Suddenly, Louis’ phone rang in the silence as he fumbled to get it out of his pocket as traffic picked back up. Juniper watched as Louis attempted to reach it as it bounced off the dash and onto the floor mats as she let out a horrendously loud laugh at his attempt.

“Oh shuddup, you couldn’t have done better, will you get it for me, hurry before it stops ringing!” Louis voiced quickly as Juniper bent down to pick it up before the ringing stopped and the call went to voicemail.

“It’s the chief of the Doncaster PD.” Juniper voiced confusingly as she picked up the call nonetheless as she pressed the button as she held it up to her ear as Louis continued to drive, being mindful of her facial expressions giving clues to the details of the call.

“Okay, bye.” Juniper said quickly before she hung up the call, all color drained from her face as she looked to Louis, all words seeming meaningless as she discovered there was no more hope, no longer, not a drop in her spirit.

“Louis, Milo’s dead.” She said finally, before Louis pumped the breaks in the hotel parking lot.

It felt almost as if the world stopped spinning.

A/N: ABSOLUETLY GUTWRENCHING ENDING, cliff hanger as well also, Hehe.

#queen of cliff hangers

Besides that, VERY long chapter, how does everyone like Blue ice so far? Let me know what you think in the comments!

What do you think of Louis’ and Juniper’s friendship? I absolutely love it, and Larry’s newfound relationship suddenly blooming into something more.

Not to mention the new details of what REALLY happened to Erika Blokes that day.

But overall, how was the chapter?

Gentle reminder, there are FIVE chapters left to this epic conclusion of a short story.

What could there be in store more for the Lythorn police department? Or the history of Lythorn?

Could it finally go up in shambles? Or will the investigator and detective duo rise it out of the ashes?

as always comment your theories and predictions!

All the love, Louiscarrotsxoxo

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[sweeetestcurse]

A question for the fic writers out there:

Personally, I go through and rewrite each fic and chapter at least 3 times before I post and even then I feel like I could be doing more to make things better.

[chelseasdagger]

Teacher - Chapter II

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!reader

Summary: You get invited to Frank's apartment again days after he gave you your first kiss. After a long makeout session, you rush to get to the bonfire and enjoy a night with your group of friends and even more of Frank's company

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), cursing, drinking, dry humping, brief mentions of masturbation

Author's Note: It's finally here! I'm SO so sorry for the wait on this chapter! I've been working full time at my part time job and it's been crazy busy!! Thank you for being patient :) Oh! We have a taglist now, so if you want to be added, just let me know! As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 6.6k+

Previous Chapters: I

Ever since that afternoon when Frank gave you your first kiss, it’s all that’s consumed your mind. It’s been difficult to focus your attention anywhere that isn’t the image of his puffy lips, swollen from your kisses, that has been ingrained in your head. You’ve been spacing out more often—even softly tracing your lower lip with your finger to try and relive the memory of his tongue brushing your skin.

You’ve even let your mind wander off its leash at work. Your coworker rips you from your thoughts by calling your name and you look up with wide eyes. She smirks when she sees your frazzled expression and asks what’s on your mind. You flip through excuses in your brain before stumbling out an “It’s a good day?”

Your voice twists into a question at the end, obvious that even you weren’t sold on your words. She shoots a skeptical look your way before walking away from the front desk, leaving you to sit once again in your thoughts about Frank. Beams of sunlight pour through the glass windows at the front of the building and the heat on your face reminds you of his warm touch. You let your eyes close for a moment and you swear you can feel his long fingers curling behind your jaw.

Suddenly, a chime sounds out and your eyes shoot open, quickly facing the front door as you expect to be met with a client’s face. There’s not a single person in sight though, and you glance down at your phone and see its illuminated screen. There’s an alert on the display and as you pick it up to unlock it, you notice it’s from your close friend.

“I’m picking you up at 6 right?”

Your eyebrows pull together, trying to remember the topic of the conversation that she’s starting back up again. As your eyes scan the earlier messages on the screen, it clicks for you. The bonfire.

Every few weeks your friend group makes plans to go out and do something fun together. With busy lives and conflicting schedules, not to mention the range of ages, it’s not always easy to reconnect and make time to be with each other. But months ago there was a collective agreement to make the effort of seeing one another more often than not. It was something you loved, being able to be in the good company of everyone you cared for.

Admittedly, your favorite part of the group hangout was watching as the rest of them enjoyed themselves. Smiles thrown on their faces, laughter roaring out when someone cracks a joke, even comfortable silences—it brought you so much joy to witness. However, due to your more reserved nature and how you passed on drinking each time, you felt more like a bystander; always watching them let loose and wishing you could do the same.

“Yes pleaseee”, your thumbs press on the glass, typing out the message on the digital keys. As you hit the arrow to send the text, another message shows as a banner across the top of the screen.

“You wanna come over?”

It’s from Frank this time. Sinking your teeth into your lip in an attempt to stall your smile, you glance at the clock on the wall. Unfortunately, no amount of wishing makes the thin, red hand pass the black numbers any faster. With a quiet sigh, you begin to type another text.

“I get off in an hour. You’re still going to the bonfire tonight right?”

You anxiously tap your finger along the side of your phone, watching the little bubbles move as an indicator that he’s typing. Frank was the main reason you went to these monthly bonfires, and the idea of him not showing is certainly enough to make you consider twice about going.

“Yeah. Just wanted to see you before then.”

As if right on cue, your heartbeat speeds up when your eyes scan across his words. You don’t even try to fight the grin that grows on your face this time. It’s only been a few days since you last saw him, since your last kiss, but you’ve been texting him each day in between. The conversations have always been light, slightly flirty on his end, but you’re thankful Frank never pressures you to do anything.

Oftentimes you find yourself still in disbelief at how this all happened. Frank’s incredibly patient with you and has reassured you many times that this is all your choice. Hell, he hasn’t even asked for you to come over again until just now. Maybe he was trying to keep the distance to not overwhelm you?

But he does want to see me, the giddy, although nagging, little voice in your head reminds you. Rolling your eyes at your own thoughts, you sigh gently before texting him that you’ll drive over to his apartment after you get off. He replies back almost instantly.

“Can’t wait.”

You force yourself to drop your phone and not reread his message multiple times. It wasn’t a habit you normally had, but it became ever so prevalent with his messages. You pictured what other thoughts could be behind his often short texts and that wasn’t particularly helpful while you’re still on the clock.

The minutes felt like centuries as you sat at the desk. No amount of phone calls from curious customers or coworker gossip could act as a catalyst and make the time pass faster. You almost feel bad for being mentally checked out, but with something as good as this planned after you left, you really couldn’t help it. With your chin in your hand as you barely hold yourself up, you take one last hesitant glance at the clock. Two minutes left.

The second the time flips to the nearest hour, you’re clocking out; you’re thankful it was a slow day and you could leave right on time. With a shout over your shoulder and a wave goodbye to your coworker, you walk out the door and straight to your car. You don’t even put the GPS on–you have the way to his house memorized after the last time–and put on your favorite playlist to get yourself excited once again to see him.

Thankfully, the traffic isn’t too bad and it’s not long before you’re making the first turn into the neighborhood. You turn on each familiar street, winding the curves before you spot the black van with an empty parking space beside it once again. There’s no anxiety this time as you put the car in park, just excitement bubbling up and making your chest grow warm. You’re quick to grab your bag and rush up to the wooden door as you lock the car behind you.

You raise your hand and swiftly knock an upbeat tune on the door. It opens only a few seconds later, and there’s a strong arm winding around you as it pulls you past the door frame. A surprised yelp escapes you and his raspy voice sounds out with an apology.

“Sorry, kid, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He closes the door behind you before walking towards the couch. The room’s not quite as spotless as it was last time but it honestly makes it feel more cozy seeing as it’s been lived in. He motions for you to follow him to sit down and this time you make sure to sit right beside him.

He asks about your day and the two of you begin a light conversation. It feels like he really listens to you; he’s nodding his head as you speak, leaning slightly towards you, and for once you feel like you’re being truly heard. After some back and forth, Frank begins to talk more as something you say sparks up a memory in his mind. He’s excited to tell you, obvious from how he sits up with a wide smile, and you listen to him as he gives you some background information that’s necessary to understand the story.

If you’re honest, you’re not really sure you’re keeping up with the whole picture he’s trying to paint you. You couldn’t really help it, memories of the only other time you were here beginning to rush through your brain. His laughter sounds out, breaking your concentration of the memory, and you try your hardest to focus back on him. Frank’s so animated when he talks: his hands moving in front of him, his facial features physically showing how he felt, and let’s not forget the voices of his friends that he puts on to get a smile out of you.

But eventually his words continue to drone on and on and you’re beginning to lose interest. It's no fault of his own, you just can’t focus on anything other than his mouth. The meaning of his words dissipate until they’re simply just noise to fill the background. Your eyes never leave his lips, watching as they curl around the words or stretch into a smile as he laughs. Before you can even think through the consequences of your actions, you lean forward and place a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His words stop abruptly and you watch as he turns his head to face you. There’s a short pause before he’s got his arms wrapped around you, immediately pulling you into his lap. You settle on your knees, straddling his thighs, and he tugs you even closer until you’re sitting right between his legs.

“Did you hear anything I was saying?” he asks, tilting his head as he stares up into your eyes. His gaze is too intense and you find yourself focusing on his lips instead. “You hear a single word or… did some kind of switch flip just then?” He squints his eyes as he asks, his tongue brushing over his lips.

“I just… I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” you confess in a small voice.

“That is just the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. You know that?” And queue the heat rushing to your cheeks. “Got any idea how sweet you sound?”

“Frank, c’mon,” you whisper, growing tired of his teasing.

“What, sweetheart? You wanna say somethin’ like that and not expect me to talk about it?” Again, you wish he would just shut up and kiss you already. “I’ve been on your mind that much? Must’ve been a damn good kiss for you to think about it days later, huh? Did you miss—”

You cut him off once more with your lips, your hands cradling his cheeks as you kiss him. You can’t even believe you did it, you never thought yourself the one to make the first move. Being desperate for his kisses is enough for the final push, you guess. His hands are quick to find your hips and you shiver at the touch, cursing yourself for being so sensitive. He pulls away when he feels your body’s reaction but never takes his hands off of you.

“That okay?” he asks, his eyes glancing up into yours. He gives another swift squeeze into your side before questioning with another “hmm?” You nod quickly, still reeling from the feel of him touching you there. Frank only tilts his head, silently requesting more from you.

“Y-Yes,” you stutter out, and he mutters the quietest, “Okay,” you’ve ever heard. His hand that’s wrapped around your hip begins to push you back and you’re quick to move with his movements. It’s a gentle push that has your ass grinding down onto the center of his jeans and you quickly grab hold of his shoulder to keep your balance.

“You okay?” he asks through a light chuckle. You nod and hum an agreement as you focus back on his warm touch that’s setting a fire alight on your side. He pulls you closer now and begins rocking you back and forth on his lap. The heat begins to travel down your tummy and nestles between your thighs.

Suddenly, Frank’s mouth is on your neck again and you almost feel lightheaded with how your body is trying to take in so much of him at once. He drags his kisses down your jaw, his hand never stopping the gentle pull and push of your hips. As you keep rocking on him, you swear you feel something bumping into you on each push down but you’re not very certain of anything at the moment.

His unoccupied hand smoothes up your side and his big palm grabs at your chest. A small moan gets stuck in your throat, resulting in a quiet whimper, as his long fingers squeeze into your soft skin. You break the kiss, your arms crossing each other as you reach for the hem of your shirt but his hands tenderly grab your wrists.

“You don’t have to…” he breathes shallowly, his breath fanning across your lips. His gaze locks with yours before he swallows thickly. He closes his eyes as he continues, “I’m sorry. I-I just got caught up in it.” You smile at the hesitancy in his voice and brush your thumb along his jaw.

“It’s okay, Frank, I wanna,” you reassure him. He loosens his hold, allowing you to continue your movements and pull your top off. His eyes move up with each new inch of skin that gets exposed and there’s this look in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. Once your head is clear of the fabric, you drop it onto the empty couch cushion beside you before moving to cup his cheeks in your smaller hands.

His lips are parted as he stares unabashedly at your chest. Brushing your thumb over the light stubble, you watch as he takes you in for the first time. Part of you is somewhat worried about his reaction, but his kisses were enough to leave your head clouded for long enough to push the anxiety away.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” is all he mutters before his hand pushes through your hair and he cups the back of your head. He pulls you into another kiss, his tongue wasting no time as it glides along yours. You moan against him sweetly as he lightly pulls on the strands. The sound must’ve spurred him on though, because he squeezes you over your bra once more. His insatiable fingers continue and your chest threatens to spill over the fabric cups.

You bring your hand over his and he immediately lets go of you. You shake your head with a grin, letting him know he didn’t cross any lines. Rather, you press on his fingers and make him hold you even tighter. He sighs into the kiss and digs harder into your smooth skin. Wanting to mimic him and clutch onto as much of him as possible, you push your palms flat to his chest and work them up towards his neck. You don’t even register the way you’re tugging at the neckline of his shirt until your thoughts slip and you mumble something against his lips.

“What was that?” Frank asks as he trails a finger down your cheek.

“Can… Can you take yours off too, please?” Your words come out as a whisper, your nerves acting up at the idea of asking that of him. He only smirks up at you before adjusting himself to sit up more against the couch.

“Guess that’s only fair, huh?” You watch as his hands come to the back of his neck, arms flexing as he pulls the shirt over his head and haphazardly drops it beside yours. When you see him shirtless for the first time, you’re pretty sure any thought you had–and ever will have–leaves your mind. Thick muscle wrapped in tan skin, broad shoulders that you’re certain would engulf you whole, and dark hair lining the skin under his belly button that trails below the waistband of his jeans.

“You alright there, kid?” he questions through a raspy chuckle. You hesitantly reach a hand out and lightly rest it over his heart. His chest is big and he fills your palm as his heart beats against your skin. You force your eyes to focus on his face again and he meets you with a confident smirk.

“You still with me?” His words are laced with a cocky tone and you don’t even give him the satisfaction of shrinking down again. Instead, you lean forward and wrap your fingers around his neck before kissing him harder than you ever have before. He grunts against your lips, his own hips bucking up as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

His hand wraps around to hold your lower back as he continues guiding your movements. With each roll of your hips into his lap, you feel his bulge against you. A wet gasp escapes you when you bump your clit on one particularly hard grind against him.

He feels harder underneath you each time you move, and it dawns on you what it actually means. He’s getting hard? Over me? The ever present voice sounds out again, words soaked in disbelief. Feeling more confident, you begin to buck your hips on your own as you grind faster against him. 

“Attagirl,” he praises, the kiss breaking once again due to his wide smile. He encourages your movements with one little word and his hand stops the push and pull, letting you move independently from him. He grazes his long fingers up your thighs before curling around, sliding his palms higher, and holding your ass in his big hands. Frank tilts his head to the side as he deepens the kiss and you feel the stubble scratching you, causing your hips to speed up of their own accord.

His bulge between your legs is warm–and admittedly thicker than you expected–which does nothing to help the burning at the pit of your stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before and Frank’s lips begin to wander, trailing down your neck. His teeth graze along your collarbone and your hands find their way to his hair. Brushing through the strands with a gentle pull at the ends, you push yourself harder into his lap.

He grunts before pressing his tongue flat to your skin, slowly licking his way up your throat and back to your lips. A curse slips from you and you shudder when you feel the cool air hit the wet patch he left behind. Cupping your cheeks in his large palms, he traces his tongue over your bottom lip before sinking his teeth into the soft skin. You whimper louder than you mean to, the sound causing Frank to tilt his head down and break the kiss. His forehead rests against yours as he pants gently, regaining his breath.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers, dragging the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own. You giggle at his exasperated tone from the makeout session and rub your hands down his neck to his shoulder blades. The muscle is noticeable despite him not flexing and your mind starts down a path that you’re certain would do no good right now. Images begin to flash through your mind: Frank on top of you, your nails scratching down his back, his fingers tightening around a headboard. You give yourself a mental shake and bring yourself back to the present.

“What time is it?” you ask softly. Frank raises his arm up, checking the little display of his watch. Once you catch a glimpse of the digital numbers, you perk up as your eyes go wide.

“Shit, I gotta go,” Frank looks up at you confusedly as you speak. “The bonfire…” you trail off, hoping to jog his memory.

“What? No, you just got here, c’mon,” he groans. His arms wrap around your back and he tightens his hold while resting his head against your chest. With a wide smile, you brush your palms against the short hair at the back of his head.

“Frank, I’ve been here almost an hour,” you explain through a chuckle. He hesitantly looks up at you, his eyebrows pulled together and confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Really? I didn’t even notice…”

“Spent all that time when I first got here just talking. It’s your fault!” You tease him and his features soften.

“Well how was I supposed to know I had all this waiting for me if I shut up?” He pulls you snuggly towards his body and you feel the heat coming back to your cheeks. You shake your head when he drapes your arm back around his neck, his charm threatening to work on you once again.

“I gotta get ready,” you explain but make absolutely no attempt to leave your spot on his lap.

“Do you have to? You look great just like this,” his fingers idly move up and down your thighs. You find his little touches comforting and the butterflies flutter to life at his soft spoken compliment.

“My hair is a complete mess, thanks to you,” you scoff, “and I need to change.” You’re still in your outfit from work and want to wear something more comfortable, and warm, for tonight’s get together. Frank pouts as you speak but begrudgingly lets go of you, his hand keeping a hold of yours as you stand. You reach for your shirt and quickly pull it back on over your head and there’s a great, big sigh coming from him once your chest is covered.

Rolling your eyes at his theatrics, you run a hand through your hair in an attempt to look halfway decent. Turning to say one last thing before you leave, there’s a sight that makes your eyes widen as a chill rushes through you. Your hands clasp together over your mouth as you gasp, embarrassment settling in. Frank looks up cluessely at you, until he follows your gaze to his lap.

There’s a damp spot on his jeans, almost unnoticeable against the dark denim, but it’s clear what it is nonetheless.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think I’d—I’m sorry,” you swallow thickly, trying to find anything to say to fill the silence. He’s hardly moved since he first glared down at the stain on his pants; his chest heaving and jaw clenching as he takes in the sight in front of him. The air is so thick you think for half a second you might actually choke on it. The next thing you see is the bulge in his jeans twitching to the side faintly.

You feel as though you might double over and grab your stomach for balance. “Frank?” you ask gently, but he continues to breathe roughly. You can’t even possibly begin to decipher what’s going on inside his head.

“Don’t ever gotta apologize for that,” he finally speaks up. His voice is gravelly and his jaw is clenched. He takes a long inhale and you can see him physically shake off the tension. “But yeah, you… You should probably change.” His normal cocky smirk is back in place and you smile, relieved.

Leaning over him, you press a brisk kiss to his cheek as a goodbye. You mutter one last apology against his skin before slipping out the door and shouting a farewell over your shoulder.

The entire car ride home you feel your skin buzzing. You’ve never felt so giddy in your life and you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to keep this excitement to yourself. Part of you wants to scream out from the rooftops just to let the energy out but you also haven’t exactly talked with Frank about if this is something to share outside the two of you.

The ride home is a total blur and before you know it you’re pulling into your spot at your apartment. Dropping your bag by the door, you make your way straight to the bathroom. After accessing the damage that Frank left with his greedy touch, you quickly begin to try and make yourself look slightly presentable.

Surprisingly, you’re almost ready when your friend sends the message to inform you that she’s arrived at your place. All you’re missing is socks, shoes, and jacket, which by your standards, is pretty good. You brush your fingers through your hair one more time, trying to get it to lie a bit neater. With one last glance over in the mirror, you shrug and decide it’s good enough given the time crunch.

Shoving your shoes on and rushing out the door with your jacket folded over your arm, you reach her car door and climb in. She begins to drive down the street, turning down familiar roads to the place where you usually gather for this sort of thing. She fills the car ride with her stories all about her day, her rude coworker, and the new guy she’s seeing. You nearly speak up when she gets to that last topic of conversation. It would be nice to finally be able to relate to something, but you know that what you and Frank have isn’t even serious. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you bite your tongue and keep quiet.

The sound of gravel crunching under the tires reaches your ears and you perk up when you realize you’re finally here. After closing the car door and walking up to the fire pit, you notice your other friends already gathered around it. They greet the two of you kindly and pull you into hugs. You smile through the welcoming and scan their faces to check for Frank, but he’s not there.

Minutes pass and you find yourself pulling your phone out of your pocket to check the time every now and then. You watch as the sunset sinks below the horizon. It paints the sky a dusty orange before mixing and settling into soft pastel streaks of light. You’ve been here over half an hour and still there’s no sign of him. You get the courage to speak up and ask about him.

“Is Frank coming? I know he’s not usually on time but…” There’s a small chuckle sounding out from someone already a few drinks in.

“He texted me saying he forgot it was tonight. Should be here soon,” one of Frank’s closer friends, Curtis, replies to you. That’s weird, you think as you pout and wrap your arms around yourself. You wonder why he gave that excuse and what must’ve come up to deter him from getting here. It does little use, but you try to shake off the worry and focus on being in the company of the people you love.

You’re laughing loudly at a joke when you hear some light cheers and quickly turn around at the sound. Frank’s walking up slowly, shaking his head as the small group rags on him for being late. He scoffs, scratching at the back of his neck before being pulled into a few hugs by his friends. You’d give anything to rush over and pull him into an embrace as well, but you decide to not just run with your emotions.

Once Frank is sitting back in an old lawn chair and everyone is officially accounted for, Curtis lights the fire. It’s tradition to wait until everybody is together before setting the wood alight. There’s a moment of quiet crackling but before long the flames are roaring to life. You’re the first to walk up to it, stretching your arms out and melting at the warmth enveloping you when suddenly, there’s a nagging feeling in your head and you look over your shoulder to satisfy the small itch.

Frank’s eyes are glaring into your side, his expression hard and difficult to pinpoint. He’s holding his chin up in his hand and his eyes slowly begin to rake down your frame before shooting back up to your face. The lights and shadows from the flames dance across his features and you swear you notice his nose scrunch up for a second when his teeth sink into his lower lip.

A shiver runs down your neck and it’s not born from excitement like before. He looks absolutely pissed and you force yourself to look back at the charred wood. It could have absolutely nothing to do with you, you try to reason with yourself. But you’ve always been one to look for a flaw in yourself when someone’s upset, and no amount of logic can take away that instinct reaction.

The only thing you can think of is the mess you unintentionally left on him. He seemed okay when you left, but maybe that really bothered him. Whatever it was, he was definitely more cold than he was just hours ago and you wish he’d stop staring and talk to you already.

You plaster on a fake smile when your friend asks what’s wrong and insist that you’re fine. You mutter some excuse about the air being chilly and she finds a spare blanket to wrap you up in. When you steal a glance at Frank, you notice him acting in complete opposite of how he was moments before. He’s back to all smiles, holding his chest as he throws his head back laughing. You feel some of your own tension leaving at the sound of his cackling but you can’t help but wonder why that cold gaze was directed towards you.

The sky eventually begins to settle into the comforting deep blue and the fire shows no signs of dying out. You notice the cooler of beer sitting open and decide to walk over and grab one. Glancing down at the label, you notice it’s not the one Frank introduced you to. With a mental shrug you crack it open and toss it back without thinking. The flavor hits your tongue and it surprises you how much smoother it is than your first drink.

You get lost in the overlapping chatter of conversations and begin drinking more now that you’ve found a taste that’s enjoyable. The time passes and you slowly feel yourself relaxing more as the weight of the bottle in your hand gets lighter. It’s not enough to make you feel without control of your actions, but it definitely is enough to give you a buzz.

Eventually the chill of the night breeze picks up, and you begin to notice some people cuddling up to their partners. A few cuddle on a picnic blanket lying on the ground, some sit in each other’s laps. Regardless, you feel that uneasy sensation of being a spectator rising up again. You fidget with the bottle in your hand as you try and not compare yourself to the other couples when the sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up.

Frank is sitting in his chair like before but this time his legs are spread wide apart. You lock eyes with him and he glances at his lap before looking back to your face. He runs a large hand down the length of his thigh, smoothing the fabric of his jeans, and it seems as though he’s presenting you a seat. You swallow thickly and make your way over to him, standing right at his knees.

“C’mon, it’s too cold,” he mumbles under the background noise of layered voices. You nod as he takes your hand, leading you to sit down on his legs. He’s quickly adjusting the blanket and draping it back over your shoulders before pulling your side into his chest. Your head aligns perfectly in the crevice of his collarbone and his body heat completely engulfs you. To say you’re happy you get to be close to him would be an understatement; you’ve been waiting for this all night but not sure if he’d make the move with an audience.

Each time he speaks, you feel his chest rumble against your cheek. His beating heart sounds out against your ear and you feel his fingers rubbing over your back. The warmth of his thick thighs underneath you remind you yet again of what occurred just a short while ago. You nuzzle your face into his shirt to hide from the thoughts consuming your mind, and he just continues talking while brushing over your side. Raising the bottle to your lips, you take another swig and swallow it down with a hum. Frank looks down at you and watches as you sit up higher against his chest to speak to him.

“Whatever’s in this is waaaaay better than what you gave me,” you whisper into his ear. Your voice isn’t slurred but it’s uneven in pitch, and he snorts–you’re pretty sure that’s your new favorite sound–before nodding.

“I’ll make sure to remember that, sweetheart.” His mouth is near your jaw and the breath fans over your neck. He didn’t even say anything sexual but that all-too-familiar warmth comes to life in the pit of your stomach again.

“Can I tell you something?” you ask in a quiet voice.

“Hmm?” His eyes never leave your lips.

“I missed you,” you confess. His lips spread into a wide smirk and you continue. “I know it’s stupid cause I literally just saw you but…” you trail off, staring down at your legs draped across his. “I got a little lonely when you didn’t show.”

“Yeah, about that…” He chuckles dryly and looks away from you. 

“What?”

“Let’s just say that, uh, the problem you left on my jeans was the reason I was late.” He turns his head in the direction of the tall flames and his words slowly sink into your mind. Heat rushes to your cheeks and your stomach does a cartwheel as new images flash in your mind: Frank’s long fingers working the button of his jeans open, his fingers curled around his cock, head tilted back as moans fall freely from his mouth.

There has to be a work stronger than mortified to describe how you feel right now. You still can’t believe you did that earlier and now paired with his confession? You wouldn’t be surprised if you melted into a puddle of your own embarrassment and slipped away. That also explains that his look from earlier wasn’t anger, but something much deeper and faceted.

“What’s wrong, kid?” He must’ve noticed you tensing up in his hold.

“You shouldn’t have told me that,” you mutter. You’re almost certain you haven’t blinked since he told you. Frank bursts into loud laughter, causing a few others to look over at the sound. You can’t handle the new pairs of eyes on you and you wrap the blanket around you tighter as you turn away from their curious expressions.

The night grows colder as the hours pass and you don’t even realize that the flames have died down until a few people begin to stand up and stretch, saying they’ve got to head home. You sit up and rub at your eyes, blinking slowly at the few empty chairs and people waving goodbye.

“You okay if I drop you home?” Frank speaks up as he watches you pull yourself back together.

“Are you sure? Didn’t you have some drinks?” you ask through a yawn, your eyes scrunching closed.

“Nah, saw you drinkin’ when I walked up. Just had water tonight,” he explains. 

He helps you stand up, saying your collective goodbyes to the group, before walking you to his black van. You watch as he walks around to the passenger side, opening the door for you and making sure your seatbelt is buckled before dropping the blanket back in your lap. You’ve never had someone take care of you like this and you have to convince yourself he’s just being a friend to not put more emotions in his kind gestures.

You mumble directions to him as he drives, sneaking glances at his profile as he stares out at the open roads. The lights from the lampposts shine through the window, the shadows dragging across his features as he taps his fingers along to a song playing faintly on the radio. He engages the clutch as he brings the car out of gear, coasting to a red light.

“I have another question,” you say in a raspy tone. It’s the one thing about tonight you still can’t figure out.

“Sure are full of ‘em tonight,” he jokes as he turns to face you.

“The thing you said earlier, about why you were late?” you don’t dare to actually say it aloud. “I left a few hours before the fire started.” Frank shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek as he stares at the scarlet glow of the traffic light.

“Tried a cold shower, sweetheart. Didn’t work,” he says simply. You don’t even say anything in response, just turn away from him and look out your window to avoid an even more awkward conversation. His chuckle sounds out in the small cabin of the van and you hate how your pulse speeds up.

“Just another left here,” you say after a while, directing him to turn into the neighborhood of your apartment. He parks along the curb with a clear view of your front door. The night is officially over and you want literally any excuse not to get out of this close space with him.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask in a small whisper.

“You don’t ever have to ask me that, kid.” You’re quick to unbuckle your seatbelt, leaning over and brushing your lips over his. Pausing for a second, you try to memorize the feeling of his breath fanning over your lips, before delaying the tease and pushing your mouth against his. He kisses back instantly and you suck his lower lip past your own. A not so stifled grunt escapes him and you smile knowing you can get to him in the same way he gets to you. You break the kiss and work your mouth down his chin and the underside of his jaw. He sighs heavily and suddenly places his big palm to your cheek, gently raising your face away from his throat.

“I can’t let you go any further,” he stares down at you. You sigh frustratedly between your teeth before sitting up with a groan. You pout at him and stare back at his lips, cursing the fact that you drank tonight.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s late, you should head inside,” he nods towards the direction of your door. You hesitantly get out and drag your feet as you walk towards the small porch light. You unlock the door and look over your shoulder to see his van still parked. It isn’t until you step inside and shut the door that you hear the motor rev as he drives off.

You stumble into your apartment, brushing your hand against the wall until you miraculously flip the light switch on. You squint your eyes as you flinch away from the bright light and shuffle your feet forward down the hallway that leads to your bedroom. As you empty your pockets and drop your bag to the floor, you make your way towards the connecting bathroom.

Another yawn overcomes you as you struggle with taking your top off, your head getting lost in the mess of fabric. The jeans come off next and you try your hardest to hold onto the countertop before inevitably losing your balance as you try to pull your feet through the cuffs at the end of your pants. You try to breeze through your routine of getting ready for the night and eventually you're sinking into the soft mattress of your bed.

Three consecutive buzzes sound out as your phone vibrates on your nightstand, the display shining in the dark bedroom. You reach for it blindly and see text messages from your friend that drove you tonight.

“Did you get home okay?”

“Since when do you drink?”

“Also what is with you and Frank?” Oh no. A fourth one comes in as your phone vibrates in your hand.

“You have to tell me everything!”

Taglist: @chellestrash @suitsofwo3 @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl

[the-pen-pot]

Me: this will be a ficlet. A small, concise story under 3000 words long.

Me, 60,000 words later, confused, bleeding, wild-eyed, looking at the length of the first chapter compared to the last: I'm going to need to pad that out a bit.

[silverskye13]

In which impulses are revisited

[jackdraw-spwrite]

Clockwork's explanation had been lacking many things, chief among them brevity and clarity. In fact, there had been so many words that they had congealed together into a putty-like mass of confusion in Danny's brain and stuck fast to the inside of his skull. He was pretty sure he had a headache.

"How can you only be pretty sure you have a headache?" asked Tucker as he handed Danny an ice pack.

"I think I might not have a head," said Danny. "Technically."

There was a rich and incredulous silence.

"Weren't you asking him for help on algebra homework?"

Danny only moaned.

[johnslittlespoon]

what if. i said tough and sweet ch7 is done. and accidentally ended up being 20k words with two Large nsfw scenes

[tswwwit]

Me, plotting: Ha ha, It'd be so fun to make the Character go through the Emotions™ :3c Me, writing: Oh no, it is hard to write the Character going through the Emotions™ :(

[the-lonelybarricade]

It's Wednesday and I need external validation to summon the strength to finish this chapter 😩

-

“Do I want to know why you were digging through our fireplace, Feyre darling?“

She gasped, almost dropping the poker. “Rhys?”

He stepped closer, face still hung in shadow. “Beginning to miss me?”

Her heart was thundering. It didn’t seem to ease, though she knew he was no longer a threat. 

“Of course not,” she said. She meant to lower the poker, but found her fingers tightening.

Rhys chuckled. The sound was dark, scraping. She felt it drag across the ridges of her spine, slightly less pronounced in the time he’d been away. It was remarkable how even just a few days of steady eating could make a difference.

“Such a warm welcome from my wife,” he said. She could picture his feline smile as he glided through the dark with unfathomable ease, as if he were its maker. “Are you going to put that poker down, or are you still debating on stabbing me with it?”

Feyre glanced over her shoulder, toward the large oak door on the opposite side of the room. Puzzled, she asked, “Did you come in through the window?”

“I came in behind you,” he said with another laugh, crossing the room in four long strides. “But you were too focused on that fireplace to welcome your poor husband home.”

“Except you’re not my husband,” she said flatly, returning to her work now that he was coming closer. She wasn’t certain she could handle seeing his face, which she admittedly had been thinking about. Often. “And as we’ve established, I didn’t miss you.”

“Didn’t you?” He crooned, crouching behind her. “I’m glad you clarified, or that cloak might have given me the wrong impression.”

Feyre went quiet. She’d been wearing his cloak because it was warm and of much better quality than her own. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d eventually return to find her still in it. 

[petite-phthora]

This yours?

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 12]

<< Prev | Next >>

Part 1

Ao3

---

Somewhere else, in a seemingly abandoned building on the outskirts of the city, a figure shrouded in darkness and wearing a dark cloak plots.

In front of them is a whiteboard. It’s covered in pictures, sticky notes, and illegible texts. Some of the notes thrown about that are legible are ‘fight…’, ‘draw blood.’, and ‘DEATH!!!’.

There’s a crude stick figure drawn in the corner of the board, it’s impaled. Other small doodles can also be found all around the board.

Most of the information and pictures are connected by red strings, like you see in movies.

In the middle is a picture of 2 people sitting on a motorcycle, the arms of the person sitting in the back are around the waist of the person sitting in the front. The picture has some arrows pointing towards it and the people in the picture are very obviously circled.

Though the face of the person driving the motorcycle is obscured by their helmet, the other person seems to be heavily blushing and grinning broadly.

“Yes… yes! That’s it! I know what to do…” They seem to be speaking to themselves.

Quickly, the person scribbles down a barely legible ‘sacrifice!!‘.

They start cackling.

“Mwuahaha!”

It’s an evil laugh they’ve been working on for quite a while now, and they’re pretty proud of it.

However, the effect is slightly ruined when a fly enters their mouth, cutting off their cackling with choking as they gasp for air, grasping at their throat.

A few good thumps against their chest, with some coughing out their lungs, helps them dislodge the fly from their throat and they spit it out on the ground. They take a few deep breaths before straightening up again.

“Curse you” the person exclaims, angrily waving their fist at the fly as it flies away.

---

Bruce’s face gives off nothing as he stares at the streets down below. He’s dressed as Batman, crouched at the edge of a building with Damian by his side as Robin. Spoiler, Black Bat, Nightwing, and Red Robin are further back on the rooftop.

They watch in silence as another group of the Joker’s goons passes by. They’ve been all over the city, wandering around, not doing anything obviously illegal.

They don’t stay in one place and they don’t seem to have much of a purpose. No attacks… No stealing… No smuggling or transport of goods… No, instead they’re inspecting every single inch of the city.

They don’t seem to have any weapons on them. All they’re carrying on them are some flashlights. While most don’t give anything away with their body language or expressions, some seem to give off a bit of anxious energy.

Spoiler claimed she even saw some of them climb down into the sewers earlier and then climbing out again sometime later somewhere else, but this time ‘dejected and stinky’.

One thing seems clear to the Bats.

They’re searching for something… or someone.

“This basically confirms that not even the Joker’s henchmen know where he is. He’s missing.”

“I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing”

“Good… thing?”

“It’s… something. That’s for sure.”

“We don’t know if he’s really missing. For all we know it could be a trap. What if the Joker is hiding, pretending to be missing to have us bring our guard down? Besides, how could he be missing? He’s the Joker. No one’s just gonna kidnap him”

“For all we know he could be lying dead in a ditch somewhere”

“I highly doubt that”

“Everyone, focus” Bruce speaks up, having them draw their attention to him.

“It’s unclear whether the Joker is simply hiding away or missing. Instead of focusing on the why, we need to focus on the where. Missing or not, we need to find him and get him back to Arkham. Oracle, have you managed to find out anything from the footage yet?”

“Nope, still nothing. All the files from the moment he enters Crime Alley are wiped and any attempt at recovering them only brings back corrupted files.”

 “We need Red Hood. Where is he?” Bruce asks.

“He still has his phone on silent and he has removed the trackers and cams. We haven’t placed any new ones on him yet”

“Let’s visit him on his turf then. And keep an eye out for anything suspicious in the meantime. Oracle, try recovering the missing files. If that doesn’t work, go back to the breakout footage. Perhaps he left some kind of clues about his plans or whereabouts behind there.” Bruce states.

“Roger that.”

---

Red Hood has his arms by his sides as he gazes down upon the street below from the rooftop of a random apartment building in Crime Alley.

He’s lucky to have avoided the Bats so far. But he doubts his luck will last for long.

Red Hood stiffens as he suddenly feels something clamp down on his arm. As a reflex, his other hand has already drawn his gun.

He slowly raises the arm he felt something clamp down on and looks at it, only to make eye contact with a girl with black hair and blue eyes who has sunk her teeth into his arm and is now hanging off of it.

The teeth are sharp, as the girl seems to have some small fangs. They’ve gone through his jacket and sunken into his skin.

It doesn’t really hurt all that badly though, probably hasn’t even drawn much blood, and that’s one of the only reasons Jason hasn’t flung the kid off of him yet. Another reason is the fact that it’s a kid.

They both stare at each other for several seconds.

As Jason takes her appearance in, he notices that she seems rather familiar. In fact, she looks like a more feminine version of Danny, or if Danny had a twin.

The person hanging off of his arm looks younger than Danny though, probably a teenager around 13 or 14, if he had to make a guess.

Slowly, he puts his gun away and takes out his phone with his other hand, watching the random girl’s eyes follow his movements. He raises it level with her face and snaps a picture, quickly sending it to Danny and ignoring the girl’s curious gaze while she’s still hanging onto his arm by her fucking teeth.

---

Meanwhile, Danny checks his phone to see Red Hood sent him a message. He opens it and is greeted by a picture of Ellie in human form biting down on Red Hood’s arm with the caption ‘this yours???’

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea   @uraniumwizard    @why-must-i-be-like-this   @griffinthing

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 23

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Murder, violence, torture, gore, sex

Blood & (Rearranging) Guts

There was a giddy atmosphere on the Victoria Punk. The crew was bustling around, pushing canons, loading guns, sharpening blades. Your weapon, of course, was already sharp and loaded, but you wanted something else, which is why you were rummaging around in the kitchen. You hoped Killer wouldn't mind if you borrowed some things. It wouldn't take long to catch up to the Marine ship, especially at the pace you were moving. Kid ordered the Punk to sail at full speed once they were sure they were pursuing the right ship.

Back on deck, Minerva found you and followed you to where Killer and Kid were standing. Whatever their conversation was, it stopped when you walked over.

"Don't stop on my account." You leaned against the railing, looking towards the bow, which would be approaching the other ship any minute. 

"Well, princess, we were just sayin how ya shouldn't expect any of us to watch yer back," Kid started. "Since ya like to remind us that yer not a part of this crew so much."

Your eyes rolled at the pet name. You were the precise opposite of a princess. "Don't expect me to watch yours either, Captain," You mocked. "Try to stay out of my way, would you?" You patted his back condescendingly as you walked past him, headed towards the bow. You wanted to have the first opportunity to board. 

Killer caught your shoulder, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "Those better not be from my kitchen, darlin." His low voice vibrated against your ear.

"Nothing gets by you, huh?" You motioned for him to bend down again so you could whisper back, "I'm sure I can make it up to you somehow." You winked at him and continued to the bow.

You sat on Mini's back, waiting for your chance to board. The ships were close enough to exchange canon fire. It seemed like Eustass was having fun flinging their cannonballs back at them. You made a mental map of the path you needed to take to get to Giemsa the fastest. You figured Kid would be distracted by killing the marine grunts, but you didn't trust him not to kill your prey if he found him first. 

Finally, the marine ship was close enough. Your fingers tightened in Mini's fur as she barreled towards them, using the railing as a kicking off point for an extra boost. To say the men on board were shocked to see an enormous hog land on the ship was an understatement. Using their moment of shock, you tore through them to get to the stairwell. You didn't even have to ask Mini to cover you. That was a given.

Everything else was tuned out the moment you put your hand on the handle of your gunblade. It was slower getting up the stairs, since you had the low ground. Normally, a captain should be fighting with their men, but you knew Giemsa was a coward at heart, only fighting people he could overpower. You were saving your bullets, however, the task of getting up the stairs was slower than you liked, and you were an impatient woman. Luckily, the stairs were narrow, which lended itself to lining the men up nicely for you. You plunged your knife into the belly of the man in front of you until the barrels of the gun portion of your weapon were flush against him. The line of men in front of you fell to their knees as you pulled the trigger. Infusing your weapon with haki let you shoot through the lot of them. Now, it was a semi-clear path, you just had to climb over some bodies or push some over the railing. You heard the wails of them behind you as Mini also stepped over them, a few hundred pounds heavier than yourself. You really didn't care if you killed them or not. They would die eventually and they would die suffering. Maybe they didn't even know about what their captain was up to. That didn't matter to you either. Guilt by association. Your moral compass had broken along with your spirit back then.

The closer you got to Giemsa's office, the more your heart raced. Not with anxiety or fear, but excitement. Just thinking about your plans for him brought a smile to your face. That smile was incredibly unsettling to the marines that encountered you. The ones who fought you were unnerved and some were frightened away altogether by what they saw. You let them go. The Kid Pirates were behind you after all. You wondered which enemy was more terrifying to them. 

Mini had a blast barreling through the throngs of marines that were trying to defend their captain. Her coarse fur and thick skin prevented their blades from doing much harm, even more so because the wielders were pathetically weak. The boar would spear through her adversaries with her tusks and shake her head back and forth to fling them off. And if she didn't kill them like that, she trampled them. Clearly, she had a lot of pent up energy from being stuck on a boat, unable to run around. 

Walking through the now-clear hall, you stood in front of the door you knew led to Giemsa. Instead of kicking it open, you knocked in code. It was something marines did sometimes to identify each other if they didn't know who was on the other side of the door. Thinking you were another marine, you were told to enter. He was facing away from you, hurriedly explaining the situation on a Den Den Mushi. "M-mayday! T-there's Kid Pirates everywhere. They-" He was cut off as you shot the snail from his hand. Good. He thinks it's only Kid Pirates. He did until he turned around. Then, whatever state of despair he was in was multiplied tenfold as his eyes went wide.

"Didn't I tell you I would come back?" You sat on his desk, across from him, gun pointed at his head. "Lose your weapons, pretty please." He did as he was told, pulling his sword from its scabbard and throwing it down. "Good boy, now strip." He gave you a pathetic look. "I don't trust you to actually disarm yourself, so strip." You used your gun to point to where you wanted him to stand. "And bring your chair over here."

He slowly started to disrobe. "Y-you know there's other marines on their way. A-admirals maybe even."

You put a warning shot through the wall next to his head. "Shut up and strip. No one is coming for your bitch ass." Where the fuck are you, Kid? I'm not waiting. You bit your lip. Maybe you could just do a tiny bit of torture and then heal him before Kid comes so he's a fresh canvas. You tied him to the chair with his own clothes, save for the jacket, which you were now cutting your trophy from. As you shoved it in your pocket for later, there was a loud commotion from outside. There he is. Giemsa's eyes shifted between you and Kid as the red-headed captain entered. As much as you didn't want to share this moment, you delighted in seeing Giemsa's hope of surviving this evaporate before your eyes. 

"Took you long enough."

"I was cleaning up yer mess! Ya left a bunch of them alive!" 

"They were gonna die eventually."

"Don't ya like to watch em die though?"

"You guys are psychopaths!" Giemsa couldn't stop himself from blubbering out loud. It wasn't the smartest move, drawing the attention of both of you.

You took a small paring knife out of your belt. Kid laughed behind you. "So THAT's why Killer was in a huff this morning."

"I'm borrowing it." 

Kid's curiosity was thoroughly piqued. Usually he went for the big knives if he wanted to torture someone. "Show me what ya got, Sea Snake."

You lifted Giemsa's chin in your hand. "Since you enjoyed so much what was done to my face, I'll grant you the honor of matching." 

Before you started, you tore a few strips of fabric from his discarded clothes. With some, you gagged him, and with the others, you wrapped them around your left hand. With the small knife, you started to trace a rough outline of your scars, replicated on his face. He whimpered. "Oh hush. I haven't even started. Just wait until I get to your eye." You took the little knife, starting from his head, and went over the small lines you had made, cutting until you could see the silvery sheen of fascia. Gripping the flap of skin with your fabric-wrapped hand, you started puling and cutting at the same time, no easy task when your materials were struggling beneath your hands. The fabric in your hand helped you keep your grip on the otherwise slick with blood flesh.

A hand came from the side of you and tightly gripped Giemsa by the hair so that he couldn't move his head. You gave a questioning look to Kid. "What?! The faster yer done, the faster I get a turn." Kid watched intently as you skinned half the man's head. No question you had practice with it. There was a finesse to your work. Even after blood was dripping down your elbows, you never lost your grip. Kid almost forgot to revel in the man's torment because he was so lost in the way your hands worked, and how good they looked glistening in red-brown hues.

It was satisfying to watch the skin peel away. Yes, you were aware that it was pretty fucked up to be enjoying this. No, you didn't care. He had it coming. Briefly, as you held up the skin you had cut away, you wondered if you could mail it to Marine Headquarters, similar to what the Warlord, Trafalgar Law, had done. You smirked at your handiwork. Just as your face had been marred, so too, was his. Flinging the skin towards where Mini was waiting, you went back to the task at hand.

Your hand squeezed over Kid's, making sure his grasp was firm. "Hold him tight. This is the best part."

Kid felt his skin heat up where you had left a bloody handprint. The way you bit your lip with concentration and how your voice was practically a purr when you gave him instruction made his heart race. 

You grabbed the side of Giemsa's head that was missing skin, causing an intense stinging pain to him, though you barely heard his shrieking through your intense focus. Sliding your thumb up, you dipped it towards his eye. "I really wish you could live and learn what it feels like to have your vision taken from you, but sadly, you do have to die." Pushing your thumb under his eye, it was warm and wet. You maneuvered your hand to loosen the muscles holding the eye in place. During this, Giemsa screamed so hard you thought he passed out for a minute. Finally, his eye popped out, hanging on by the nerve. Wrapping it around your finger, you yanked on it. You held it up in front of his other eye so he could see it, IF he could see it, given that blood and tears were running down his face. "Mini." The boar had been patiently waiting in the background, Killer had been, too, you noticed. She opened her mouth for you to toss your prize into. 

Wiping your hands on your clothes, you let out a sigh. Even though it should have been the opposite, for a normal person, you felt a weight lift from you. This was a catharsis. "Your turn, Captain." You walked past him towards Killer. "Try to impress me." Kid growled at your remark and immediately went to work on Giemsa, choosing blunt force as his tool.

It was hard to understand the flayed man, though you could make out him asking why Kid was now his torturer.

"Cuz ya fucked with me and my crew." Kid had the man encased in various metal pieces, crushing different parts of him as he pleased. "And based on what I've heard of ya, I can only guess what yer plans were with my girls." You could hear bones break from across the room. 

Killer had his arms folded, watching the little show in front of him. "Nice technique." 

You were sharpening the paring knife with a small whet stone, also borrowed from the kitchen. "Thanks," you grinned.

The blonde was definitely displeased with your use of kitchen tools. "You could have asked if we had any knives specifically for this."

"Oh yeah, Killer. Let me just ask for your finest torturing instruments." As if that was the weirdest thing that you could have done at this point. "You barely let me have my own weapon. AND I know the kitchen knives are way sharper."

"Not anymore." His voice was softer.

"Oh my god. Are you pouting?" It was in his tone. Cute.

"Don't push it. I didn't have to let you take them." Killer tilted his head. "I was curious about what you were gonna do."

"I told you I would make it up to you." 

"You will." 

His deep voice sent a shiver up your spine and you weren't mad at his threat. A particularly loud scream drew your attention back to Kid. "Don't kill him! That honor is mine, remember?" You got closer to see what he was doing. You could tell he overdid it. There were shards of metal sticking out of Giemsa everywhere and he was nearly unrecognizable with swelling and bruising. "Come on, Kid!" You pushed him exasperatedly. "He's practically dead!" 

"But he's not!" Kid wiped his brow, getting rid of sweat, yet smearing deep red across it. "I held my end of the deal up."

"Barely." 

"So-rry I don't have fancy knife skills like ya." He feigned an apology and snickered. 

"Okay." You said, nodding irritatedly. "Then you're gonna learn." You handed him the kitchen knife, handle first.

Kid's eyebrows knit together. "Hah??"

You thrust the knife at him again. "Take it." He took it, an unsure look in his eyes. "Okay, now take the other half of his face off. You were watching how I did it." You folded your arms. Kid looked at you again and started to emulate what you had done. Killer had walked up, too, out of curiosity, to see how Kid would fare. 

Kid cursed as the knife created a buttonhole in the skin he had tried to peel off. After a few more times, he threw his hands up. The man had little patience. "Are you happy? I tried." 

"Uh-uh," you tutted. "You didn't want to stop before and you're not stopping now."A wry smile crept onto your face. "If I can't finish torturing him how I want, then you'll do." Before Kid was able to protest, you put your hand over his that was still gripping the knife, comically small in his huge hand. His arm was a lot longer than yours, putting you in a somewhat awkward position, pressed against his side. It was hard to ignore the smell of iron and sweat that radiated from him, not unpleasantly so. You tilted his hand slightly, "Your angle is wrong." The knife glided more smoothly, but it still snagged and punctured through the skin. Your usual admonishing tone was replaced with an encouraging one, "Too much force. Lighten up." You could feel Kid was tense under you. Your hand slid to his wrist and shook it until he relaxed. "That's better." You let his hand go, resting it on his shoulder next to your other hand. Once you saw he had the hang of it, you let him finish the job. Somewhat regretfully, you let go off his shoulder and stood back. 

Kid was annoyed at first, you bossing him around. He only tried it initially to stop you from bitching at him. So what if he almost killed the guy, you wanted him dead anyway, and Kid wasn't used to sharing. When you put your hand over his, though, his thoughts were instantly clouded. Even more so, when he felt the rest of your body pressed up against his. He didn't even hear what you were saying, more focused on how your words tickled his neck than anything else. Kid was only shaken back to reality when you grabbed his wrist to get him to relax. He felt you lean on his shoulder, resting your chin on it while you were watching his progress. It was either the adrenaline or the testosterone pumping through his veins, maybe it was just you, covered in blood, with your sweet lips so close to his ear and your nails digging into his skin with every stroke of the knife, like you were enjoying it; either way he wanted to sling you over his shoulder and throw you on the bed in his cabin. Now, he watched you. After he had finished, it was your turn again, even though the poor excuse of a man was hanging onto life by a thread. Kid's eyes followed your grinning face as you took out your stupid gun/knife out and pressed it to the man's throat. A part of him wished he was the one under your burning gaze, maybe with a knife, maybe sitting on top of him. Slowly, you dragged the blade over Giemsa's throat. Instead of the red spray that was typical, there was a sad, red dripping line. The look you gave to Kid was withering as you stood in front of him, yelling something about how the guy's blood pressure was so low it wasn't even satisfying. His usual instinct was to yell something back at you, yet all he wanted to do was tangle his hand in your hair and devour your blood-stained body. 

"Aw y'all look so precious torturing together," Killer was smirking under his mask, you could tell. 

You didn't have a chance to voice your rebuttal before Kid bounced a bolt off his first mate's mask. "SHUT UP, KILLER."

Killer couldn't resist. It was an easy taunt. And judging from the way both you and Kid went red, well, it was hard to tell since both of your faces were spattered in blood, Killer was sure he would do it again. Kid was so cute when he got flustered. Killer couldn't blame him though; you were something else. Killer tried not to indulge himself in thoughts of you too often. He knew you would be a fleeting thing aboard the Victoria and he preferred to take his time getting to know someone. Pretty much the opposite of Kid, who liked to get to know someone starting at whatever hole he could get to first.

It was dusk when the three of you emerged on the deck. You hadn't realized how long you had been in there for. There wasn't a soul in white remaining on the marine ship. The only living occupants were the Kid Pirates looting it for maps, gold, and food. I'm hungry. 

As if reading your mind, Killer asked his captain, "So are we going to feast tonight or what?" He was watching several crew carry kegs filled with some kind of alcohol, and crates of food fresh from the island you had just left. 

"Fuck yeah," Kid replied enthusiastically. 

As hungry as you were, you were not about to eat without washing the gore off. And you had some things you needed to get out of your mind, especially before drinking, namely Kid's scent and the way you could feel his muscles move under you. Both of those things were easier said than done. The first problem was every other girl had the same thinking as you, so all the showers were full. The second problem was that Kid was very hot and it was hard to banish certain thoughts you had about him, chiefly since you couldn't find a goddamn shower to quietly relieve that tension. 

You paced the hallway, waiting for someone to finish up. "Other people have to shower too, you know!" You banged on the door. 

"I know where there's a shower." You turned to see Kid smugly leaning against his doorframe.

You looked him up and down. "Not a chance." You couldn't take the bait that easily. You would never live it down.

He shrugged. "Suit yerself." Kid vanished into his cabin. He knew you would be back. After all, he had used his powers to turn on the showers and lock the door of the women's bathrooms. They had been long finished by now. 

You paced for another 20 minutes before giving up. Fuck it. Sighing, you knocked on Kid's door. It opened almost immediately, like he'd been expecting you. "Can I use your shower?" You mumbled.

He put his hand to his ear, like he was waiting for you to say something else.

"Can I use your shower please, Captain?"

"Only because I'm so nice," He held the door open for you. "Ya know where it is."

You expected to be jumped, but Kid was busy looking at something on his desk, maybe one of the maps they had stolen. Your brows furrowed. You shrugged your jacket to the floor, sneaking a peek over your shoulder. Nothing. You opened the door to the bathroom but didn't close it, undoing your belt and kicking your pants off, as you leaned over to turn the water on. You could see in the reflection of the metal faucet that Kid still wasn't looking. It was making you a little mad. You didn't necessarily want him to be all over you, though now you were a bit offended that he wasn't. What? I'm not hot anymore? Another thought occurred to you. Did I go too far? He's turned off by what he saw me do? 

Kid knew you were looking at him. He was pretending to look at a map, though he was actually trying to gauge your true interest in him. He was always the one that pursued you and sometimes under very dubious pretenses. But now he was genuinely curious. Did you want him? Of course he enjoyed when you struggled, because he knew you were into it, or you were eventually into it. After everything that transpired, he didn't want to accidentally overstep. It wasn't enjoyable if you weren't also enjoying yourself. 

Now, you were standing in the doorway, stark naked and still nothing. Your eyes narrowed. Okay. I'll get his attention. One well-aimed shot did the trick. 

Kid's head snapped up, finally looking at you. "WOMAN, ARE YA INSANE?" That was so close he could feel the heat from the bullet. 

"You didn't even peek at me!" 

Kid slammed his fist on the desk. "Gods, ya know I wanted to! I thought if I ignored ya, ya might put yer titties in my face or somethin! Not shoot at me!" 

You shrugged. Yeah that's probably what a normal woman would do. "I guess." You walked over and stood in front of his desk, hands clasped behind your back. 

"Don't ya fuckin act shy now! Ya shot at me and tried to seduce me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth. "I thought maybe..." You bit your lip. "I thought maybe I went a little... overboard earlier... and scared you off." 

Kid threw his head back and laughed. "Are ya fuckin kiddin me? I'm Captain fucking Kid! It was the hottest thing I've ever seen." Kid stood up and started to undo his belts.

"No. Stop." You walked around the side of his desk and gently pushed him to sit back down. "Let me." You slid down between his knees, a little too eager to get past the obstacles between you and his dick. He helped you tug his pants down far enough to let his cock spring free, sucking in a sharp breath when you spit on it and took it in your hand. You knew you would gag if you tried to take the entire thing so you focused on the tip and used your hand for the rest.

Killer chose that moment to pop his head in, since the door was wide open. All he could see was Kid at his desk. "Hey, are you gonna get in?" He said thumb over his shoulder pointing to the shower. "Water's been on for a while." 

Kid made some intelligible grunting noise.

Killer couldn't tell if that was a yes or no. "What?" He looked down at the floor, littered with your clothes, and back to Kid, who had his head tilted back. Killer was fairly familiar with that face. "You're gettin sucked off, aren't you?" He sighed. "Okay, well I'm gonna get in then." He started to close the door, mumbling about wasting hot water.

You heard Killer in the doorway ask Kid something, as you bobbed your head up and down. Remembering your promise to make it up to him for stealing his kitchen knives, you poked your head up. "You wanna join?" 

Killer faltered for a moment before slamming the door, making you snicker. 

Kid pushed your head back down. "Girlie, you're mine fer tonight. I ain't sharin," he growled, gripping your hair and making you go faster.

Your eyes were tearing up as his cock nearly made you choke every time he pushed your head down. Suddenly, he pulled you off him and up, pulling his legs closer together so you could comfortably sit on top of him. Kid was very obviously impatient as he grabbed your hips and pushed you down on his cock, filling you up in one swift motion. You buried your head into his head and moaned. His grip prevented you from grinding on him, which you desperately wanted to do, instead bouncing you up and down on him. With each downward motion, he was hitting your cervix. It was painful, but it was a good pain. You felt his tongue slide up the side of your neck, him moaning as he tasted the remaining blood and  biting at your ear. You yelped but returned the favor, alternating biting at his neck and licking at the blood that was dried on it, from his shoulder to behind his ear. "You're disgusting," you breathily whispered. "I like that about you." Kid laughed between panting and lifted you up, slamming your back against the desk, him hulking over you. As you cried out, he bent down and shoved his tongue in your mouth. Both of you sucking at each other's tongues and biting at each other's lips. Your hands found his hair and tugged him closer to you. He swallowed every moan you gave up for him. The way your thighs gripped him tighter and tighter gave away how close you were. 

"Hate me so much but yer little pussy can't get enough of me can it?" Kid teased. "Say it." Kid pressed his thumb into your clit.

"I h-hate you." You played dumb on purpose, defiantly smirking up at him. 

Kid growled and closed his metal and on your throat. "No, the other thing," he hissed through clenched teeth, clearly trying to hold out. 

"T-this..Nnnlittle," you couldn't think straight between his thumb rolling across your clit and the deep strokes he was pounding into you. "Fuck!" Your back involuntarily arched and heat filled your body, sending waves of shaking pleasure down to your curling toes. 

The rhythmic clenching of your sopping wet pussy drove Kid over the edge. He wanted to stay buried in it, but he pulled out and sent ropes of hot cum to splatter across your body that was so beautifully laid out for him on his desk. The only thing that would be better was if the blood was still wet so he could really make a mess of you and smear it together with his cum. You both stayed like that until you caught your breath. 

It sounded like Killer was done in the shower. He probably showered as fast as possible so he didn't have to hear Kid fucking you. Kid took off the rest of his clothes before slapping your tit and squeezing it. "Get yer ass in the shower. I'm tryna eat that pussy, too." 

He didn't have to tell you twice and soon your back was pressed against the cool side of the shower, both your legs over Kid's shoulders. His tongue and fingers were unrelenting as he ripped another orgasm from you. You doubled over, gripping so tightly at his hair that your fingers were cramping, toes curling so hard that they were cramping, too. "Ah! F-fuck! Fuck!" Partly crying out from pleasure and partly crying out from pain. Kid finally let you down, stabilizing you with his arm when your legs refused to stop shaking.

He taunted you, "Poor brat can't even stand on her own." 

"Shut up," you pushed his arm away. You started washing up, trying to get the dried blood out of your hair. Kid did the same. "Did I miss any spots?" 

Kid looked you over and used his thumb to rub away something from your temple. "What about me?" 

You looked at him with his wet, red hair plastered on his pale forehead. His appearance was so different without his lipstick and goggles. "Just your ugly-ass face." You flicked his crooked nose. 

"Rotten, yer so lucky I'm hungry or I would fuck ya until ya lost yer voice from screamin so loud." Kid squished your cheeks in his hand. "Then ya couldn't run that smart mouth of yers."

You giggled at his threat, turning your head to his thumb and resting your lips on it, playfully taking it in your mouth and coming off it with a 'pop'. "What are you doing after dinner?" Your lust-filled eyes slid up to meet his. 

When you both eventually emerged from below deck, everyone else was already deep into the festivities, and by festivities, you meant booze. Killer sipped through a straw and waved to Kid, leaning back in a chair. Everyone else was horsing around or stuffing their faces. You looked around and saw Heat beckoning you over. Next to him was Wire. 

"I see you're friendly with the captain again." Heat casually observed. He was doing something with a bunch of bottles half-full of liquid. 

You were surprised to see the marine ship still tethered to theirs. "Yeah, well, we were going over a map." You were certainly doing somethingover a map.

"Does that usually involve biting each other's necks?" Heat saw your glare and held his hands up. "Just askin. I don't know. I'm not a captain or anything."

Wire laughed at that.

"Fuck off, Heat." You laughed, touching your hand to your neck. You could heal them, but you really didn't care who saw or what they thought. Though you knew Quincy, Dive, and Emma would definitely give you a hard time. "Why is this thing still here?"

Heat was now stuffing rags into the tops of the bottles. "Every party needs a bonfire, Y/N." He handed you a few and lit the rags for you.

A grin split your face. "I see." You cocked your arm back and threw one bottle after the other towards the other ship. 

Wire and Heat did the same next to you and a few others joined as well. When the other ship was fully engulfed, the ropes tethering it were cut. You leaned against the railing and watched it burn. The heat from the fire rolled over your face. It felt good. One down. Two to go. You sighed. What would you do now? Leave at the next island? Stick around? No one had asked you to leave or stay. You were dragged out of your thoughts, no, literally dragged, you noticed. There was a purple glow and you felt some kind of metal around your center. Kid. He set you on a bench between himself and Killer. 

"Come sit with us, girlie," Kid slung his arm over your shoulders. "How does revenge feel?"

Killer set a mug down in front of you, complete with a straw like his. You took a long drink. "Feels even better with a lovely bonfire afterwards." The other ship was slowly drifting away. You turned back to Killer, who was taking things from his plate, like chicken bones, or other inedible scraps, and putting the under the table. You glanced under the table, already knowing what you would see, and looked back at him with a warmth in your eyes. Mini was happily munching on a pile of scraps that had been dumped at her feet, evidently placed there by not just Killer, but Heat and Wire, too, based on the cleanliness of their plates. 

Killer scratched behind his neck. "Seems better than tossing it in the garbage." Killer hated wasting food. 

You had wondered why Mini hadn't greeted you when you came on deck. Her heart had been swayed by chicken bones and apple cores. After eating your fill, you sat at the table and listened to Wire and Heat brag about who killed more marines. It was the most you heard Wire say so far. Kid joined the conversation, but instead of bragging about himself, he was telling them what you had done. 

"Ya should have seen it! Maybe the next one ya can show em." Kid elbowed you in the side.

Both Killer and you lent a sideways glance to Kid. Next one? 

Kid laughed. "She used Killer's good kitchen knives, too." He grabbed his friend's shoulder. "Probably only let her get away with it cuz she's got good-" It was your turn to elbow him. Hard.

"You talk too much when you're drunk." You got up from the table and went to find the girls. You wanted to hang out with them. If for no other reason than to avoid hear anything embarrassing come out of Kid's mouth. Just as you thought, they were unrelenting in their teasing when they saw the marks on your neck. "Whatever. At least I'm getting laid." You flipped them off. This started bickering between them when Emma was caught in a lie, claiming that she had, in fact, also gotten aid recently. Then Quincy started bitching about how there weren't many good options on board and she couldn't wait until they docked in another few days so they could hit the bar. You were in a fit of laughter as they started physically fighting, yanking each others' hair. You were all too distracted to notice Kid coming up and hoisting you over his shoulder. 

It was the best night of sleep you had had since the first time you had slept in this bed. You were tangled in sheets and covered in red lipstick. Black sheets were a wise choice when you went to bed in red lipstick all the time, you supposed. Kid was in a deep sleep, snoring the house down. How you slept through that, you would never know. You stretched out and finally noticed the reason you had woken up: Killer was staring at you from the foot of the bed. You sat up quickly. "Uh, a 'good morning' would be less creepy." 

He tossed a white piece of clothing at you. "Kitchen. 10 minutes." It was an apron.

You were still a little tired and sore from the night prior. But this intrigued you. You rushed out of bed, quickly washed up, and threw clothes on. Trying not to appear too eager, you went to the galley. "So am I making it up to you in this?"  You gestured to the white apron. 

Killer nodded. He walked up to you and adjusted the apron slightly. "Close your eyes." 

You did as he asked. Killer was a bit of a mystery to you, but you thought he was probably kinky. You felt his hands at your waist, lightly positioning you in front of the counter. He put something in your hand and curled your fingers around it. It wasn't what you thought it would be. You opened your eyes. In front of you was a cutting board and some vegetables. 

Killer was very amused by the confused expression on your face. "Get chopping, darlin." He started prepping some other things.

"What's this?"

"This is how you're making it up to me, line cook." 

You blinked at him. "Are you serious? I thought..." Your face flushed. The mood soured for you as you realized you would not be getting any morning action. 

Killer laughed. "You thought I was gonna fuck you."

"No!" It was hard to be mad at him when his laugh was so disarming. 

"You did." 

You channeled your frustration into chopping. 

Next Chapter

[a-writing-otter]

WIP Wednesday

“I can’t believe you fucked that old man.”

Bill’s head snaps up so quickly from where it was inside of the air duct that he smacks it on the metal internals. When he reappears cursing and rubbing at his head, there’s dust bunnies in his hair and clinging to his eyelashes.

“You can’t believe I what?”

“You fucked that old man,” Red repeats, feet up on the counter as she lazily reads something called “Lumberjack Layabouts Weekly.”

“I—“ And Bill lets out a grunt as he comes down from the ladder to slam his hands on the counter and lean into her space. The action does little to phase her other than make her look up.

“Neither of those things are right!”

Red takes a second to turn the page of her magazine, but doesn’t look away from Bill.

“That’s not what I heard.”

Bill’s eyes roll back into his skull for a second. He thinks of what he was told to do both by the therapium and Question Mark’s fiancée: deep breaths in and deep breaths out, count to ten, don’t visualize throttling them no matter how fucking annoying these fleshbags are.

“First of all, I’m older than him,” he begins, like that’s the important part.

“You don’t look it.”

“That’s because I take good care of myself.” Which is only partially true.

When the Axolotl and the entire therapism decided Bill’s methods of rehabilitation weren’t working, they’d sent him here. To hell.

…to earth.

Stripped of his powers, they’d shoved him into a meat suit that was an “appropriate approximation of his natural form” (Bill resents that statement entirely, but the appearance has grow on him). The dark skin and golden eyes are quite a contrast coupled with the golden hair offset by strays strands of grey or white hair. Melody has helped him figure out how to wash and maintain it, which is far more maintenance than he was expecting after watching Ford for years barely do anything more than occasionally wash it and wake up. Bill’s currently picking dust bunnies out of an individual lock, throwing them into the trashcan by the counter (like hell is he sweeping up in this damned place more than he has to).

He has it on good authority that this is a desirable fleshbag form, both from the open way that people compliment him and the way people stared. …he’s getting used to the staring and has stopped threatening to flay people alive who let their eyes linger too long.

Question Mark calls it progress; Bill calls it not wanting to see that haunted, barely contained disappointment on Melody’s face again. She is simultaneously the kindest and cruelest person he’s met on this plane. In spite of literally everyone’s reservations about Bill being on the same plane as the rest of these humans, she’d been willing to hear him out, offer him accommodations here at the Mystery Shack, and even provide a job if he could behave.

She also detailed to him with a sunshiney smile and no insignificant amount of knife waving that if Bill started anything, anything looking like world domination under her roof, not even the Axolotl would be able to save him.

If nothing else, she’s done more than a little to earn his respect and compliance than anyone else in this entire reality.

So, he’d gotten used to people staring and it doesn’t bother him.

At least, until one particular person started staring.

“Second of all, I didn’t—“ And he looks around, makes sure no hide or hair of thirteen year-old menace can be seen before he continues, “—fuck Sixer.”

Red closes the magazine entirely and shifts to take her feet off the counter and lean on it with her arms folded—this is what she’d wanted to hear.

“I heard Stan caught you two in the bathroom.”

Bill clears his throat and starts back up the ladder to avoid having to look at Red even as he feels something warm in his face.

“Stan doesn’t know what he saw.”

Red lets out a raucous laugh that makes Bill wince and wrinkle his nose as he sticks his head back in the vent to continue clearing it out.

“I heard that you two also got into a fistfight at dinner before that. Weird foreplay, but I can respect it.”

Everyone, mostly Question Mark and Shooting Star, have insisted on family dinners since both sets of Pines twins returned to Gravity Falls. And, somehow, Bill gets lumped into that because he sleeps in the Shack (specifically, the sofa in the living room because everywhere else is off-limits). It’s been three weeks and most everything has been simpatico, Shooting Star was the fastest to warm up after her initial talk too of “unspeakable horrors” she’ll unleash on him if he steps a toe out of line. The fact that he’s powerless seems to make her willing to humor him.

…also something about him looking like a wet rat? And it was a good thing? Bill didn’t ask. Or, rather, he had asked and she brushed him off and because he knew Stanley will flay him alive if he lays a finger on either niece or nephew, he let it go.

Pine Tree has been a lot more hesitant in his behavior, sure, but he’s recently started being in the same room with Bill and musing aloud in ways that Bill knows are directed at him without talking to him. Pine Tree will state something stupid about the state of the town and when Bill corrects him, he’ll scribble it down, go silent, then rinse and repeat.

Stan has been… well, they were avoiding each other without problem. The closest they get to a conversation is when they’re both sitting in the living room after everyone else has gone to bed and before Stan goes to his bed and Bill passes out on the sofa. Their talk is a roundabout back and forth about complaining about what’s on the television and saying there’s “never anything good on”. Occasionally Bill will liken something on the screen to something he’s seen on television in other dimensions, Stan will grunted, and then they go back to silence.

They’ve also worked out a system where they’re allies in their silent agreement to watch The Duchess Approves as long as no one else finds out about it.

…and then there’s Ford.

They haven’t been in the same room as each other outside of dinner even remotely. Bill doesn’t look at him, Ford doesn’t acknowledge him, and it’s fine.

It’s fine.

It doesn’t bother him even a little that Ford won’t even look at him, won’t talk to him. Doesn’t bother him that when Bill does talk, he rolls his eyes. It doesn’t bother him either that Ford gets up every time Bill enters the room even for a moment. It’s not like he cares about the asshole or wants to see him. It’s fine for Bill.

Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine.

And because it is so fine, he’s not sure what exactly caused him to get mouthy with Sixer the night before.

Ford had made some inane comment and Bill couldn’t help but correct him. Over a trillion years in the multiverse, he knows when he’s right about something.

Ford bit back.

And Bill argued against.

It’d devolved into a petty back-and-forth, both of them digging their claws in places it shouldn’t go without caring for the carnage it spread.

It ended when Bill called Ford “my shining star” like this was just a philosophical disagreement thirty-one years prior.

He shouldn’t have done that.

The next thing Bill knew, he and Ford were rolling on the ground, fists flying and snarling at one another. Ford caught him in the nose, Bill punched him in the mouth, both of them scratching and pulling hair like a pair of animals.

It took Stanley and Soos both to pull them apart, both of them still swinging until they were forced to calm down.

After that, Bill had left his unfinished dinner to sit on the roof and wait out everyone else’s dinner. It was only because the blood wouldn’t stop flowing from his nose while the blood on his knuckles had dried uncomfortably to the point he kept accidentally ripping it when he flexed his hand that convinced him to go downstairs.

He’s still figuring out this whole human thing and, yeah, he was fumbling with the tape and his nose was dripping all over everything and he was fighting not to get it on the stupid sweater he got from Shooting Star and—

That’s how Ford found him.

There were no words as he crowded into the small bathroom with him, took off his gloves, and started to doctor Bill.

Neither of them say that there’s something familiar about this, them being together while cleaning up blood and puss and setting bones, usually injuries inflicted on Ford by Bill. There’s probably something funny about the idea of it being the other way around now.

They’re both too tired or embarrassed to say anything for awhile, but then Ford makes an innocuous statement that raises Bill’s hackles and there goes the peace. Then they’re shoving and pushing into a wall, Bill effectively having Ford cornered against it, chest-to-chest, spitting in each other’s faces, and then—

Then they were decidedly not fighting.

“Yeah, well, Fordsy is a know-it-all prick who doesn’t actually know everything,” Bill defends. “He started the fight.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Red replies in a singsong voice.

“And who’s telling you this?!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Red goes quiet for a moment, but he knows she’s still staring at him. “Did you two really make out though?”

Bill is quiet, can’t quite find the words he wants to say about this. Was his tongue in Ford’s mouth? Yes. Were Ford’s hands in his hair? Also yes. Did Stan walk in while Bill’s hand was halfway down the front of Ford’s pants? Regrettably.

“It was a… heat of the moment thing.”

“Wow. I mean, I knew you two were something back then, but I figured you two had, you know, moved past that.”

Bill doesn’t respond for awhile, leaning back to sweep the dust into the garbage bag he’s holding.

“So did I.”

[thorniest-rose]

Fingers and toes crossed to post the first part of foster brothers verse next week!!! 💘

[senblades]

once again, a wip wednesday on the fftsr off-weeks. ...technically, i've posted multiple wip's this week HAHAHA but I always feel the urge to share more, especially since I don't get to share new chapters as often now

[silverskye13]

In which there is a gift.

[vulpinesaint]

want to post on ao3. don't want to write things to post on ao3. want to post on ao3.