#WHAT kind of super memory drugs was little me on
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did you guys memorize entire films when you were a child or were you normal
#had the memory resurface recently#of me reciting verbatim the entirety of finding Nemo from memory#to entertain myself on a road trip as a child#WHAT kind of super memory drugs was little me on#truly HOW did I do that#I loved that movie I was obsessed with it lmao#shut up keri
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here me out yandere! erasermic with shy!reader who has tendency to have nightmares and doesnt sleep well-
[this has been on my mind like all week for some reason😭 but anyways have a great day/night and take as much time as you need/want its healthy for you!]
Just a little heads-up, I write multiple characters as working together and not as poly, so I hope that’s okay!!! You can technically think of it as poly if you want, since I’m not super specific on it lol.
And you have a great day/night as well!
Title: Circles
Pairings: Eraser Head/Aizawa Shouta x Reader; Present Mic x Reader
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, drugging
Summary: Eraser Head and Present Mic’s new darling is adjusting well in every way except sleep. Is there a way they can finally give her the rest she needs?
“Sleeping peacefully
The girl I used to be
Until I fell so deep
A neverending tragedy.
You haunt me in my dreams
But it's all I want to see.”
-from “Circles” by KIRA
You had been here nearly four months, and your sleeping had only grown worse.
It took forever for you to fall asleep and, whenever you did, your slumber was plagued with nightmares and heartbreaking memories that had you waking with a start and crying before you even opened your eyes.
Your captors grew more and more stressed at the sight of you withering away from the lack of good sleep. The rings under your eyes were larger and darker than even Aizawa’s, and the sight alone had their stomachs twisting with worry.
“What do we do? Why won’t she go to sleep, Eraser?”
“It’s not just a matter of falling asleep, Mic, it’s a matter of staying asleep too.”
Your captors were kind throughout the months you’d been here, but they still terrified you. So many of your nightmares twisted their happy expressions into evil ones and used their soft voices to scream obscenities, until you awoke more afraid of them than on the day you’d been brought to the isolated cabin you resided in.
Not a single night went by without turning into a sleepless night or one packed full with night terrors. At this point, you were afraid to sleep. Afraid to see what your unconscious mind was ready to traumatize you with further the minute you successfully drifted away into dreamland.
Your captors were there for you as you fell asleep and whenever you awoke screaming and crying. You could see their faces lined with worry as they reassured you that you were safe. You welcomed the comfort, even if you knew you shouldn’t trust the people who kidnapped you.
One of them, the dark-haired one that the other called “Eraser”, seemed to understand your inability to sleep. Probably because he always looked so tired himself. He also spent the most time with you at night, pulling all-nighters sometimes to make sure you were okay.
A strange part of you appreciated that.
“Summer break, finally! Now we can spend some time with our favorite listener!”
Your head perked up when you heard them both enter the house. You had learned that they both worked as teachers during the day, so they often had to be away from you… Was it really summer break already? Had you really been here long enough for school to let out?
Your blond captor, who the other called “Mic”, was much more energetic than his companion, and he quickly came running into the living room, searching for you. He beamed when he spotted you on the couch.
“(Y/n)! Let’s have a movie night!” He said, seeming very proud of himself for coming up with the idea.
“A movie night?” Eraser entered the living room after him, one eyebrow raised, “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”
You agreed to it, even though you weren’t sure you had a choice in the first place. They were kind enough to let you pick your favorite movie, one neither of them had seen, and pop it into the DVD player.
With the lights off, your favorite movie playing, popcorn from Mic and soda filling your stomach, you weren’t too surprised that your eyes were beginning to droop. After days of barely getting any sleep at all, your body was finally at its limit and ready to give you what you truly needed.
You saw Mic give Eraser an excited look, which was returned with an indulgent smile (perhaps the happiest you’d ever seen Eraser). You couldn’t help but smile yourself a little, both in happiness and relief. You had a feeling there’d be no nightmares tonight.
You were sleeping peacefully between them on the couch long before your movie was over. The two were beyond glad that Mic had proposed a movie night, as it had done what they needed it to do and given their precious darling the gift of dreamless (and nightmare-less) sleep.
That, and the pills they slipped into your soda.
#yandere#yandere one shot#one shot#yandere x reader#my hero academia#yandere mha#yandere my hero academia#yandere aizawa#yandere present mic#eraser head#present mic#aizawa shouta#yamada hizashi
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how about one with natasha x reader or wanda x reader your pick where the team needs a place to lay low after a mission so they go to her and readers home/farm/cabin like similar to clint and reader is pregnant and it’s just cute and fluffy and the team finds out about reader and nat or wanda whoever you choose is just super excited to be home and see reader and it’s just super cute ☺️
You know how to ride?!
The mission was terrible, it was draining not just physically but mentally. They brought up every single terrible thing they had ever done, every devastating memory and every important person in their life.
“We can’t go to the compound, it’s still full of the toxic material. And we shouldn’t go to a hotel or something. It’s just not save for anybody.” Tony said. Yeah to make it even worse HYDRA destroyed a lot of their home and drugged them to kidnapp them. Natasha, Tony and Clint had a terrible headache from the substance.
“great and where should we go? They know of my farm by now and I won’t risk my family like that.” Clint stated and started an argument with that.
It got to the point where nobody noticed Natasha stand up and fly the Quintjet. The arguing only stopped when they noticed that they landed in the middle of the woods. “Look widow, I know I said that this was an easy mission but you don’t have to kill me just because it wasn’t.” Tony kind of joked but the team could see that he actually was scared.
“Just shut up and follow me” so Nat, Tony, Steve, Bruce, Bucky, Clint and Wanda made their way through the woods until they saw a beautiful cabin.
“Is this your home?” Steve asked but didn’t receive an answer as Nat opened the door.
“Hun I’m home” she called out to see you sprint down the stairs into her arms. She picked you up and spun you around while kissing your check causing you to giggle. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” You asked her when she put you back down. “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later” she said while looking back at the team. As soon as she turned back around you connected your lips with hers and kissed her passionately.
In that moment Romanoff forget everything, the team watching you guys, her headache and even all these terrible things that happened just a couple of hours ago. It was just the two of you in your perfect little world.
When somebody coughed you broke the kiss off and turned to them. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Hey my name is Y/n and you guys must be Steve and Bucky and Bruce and you must be Tony right?” You said before walking to Wanda and Clint to hug them. These two knew that you existed and often visited you when Nat couldn’t.
“Yeah we are… I’m sorry this is crazy. Are you like her girlfriend?” Bruce asked while looking between you two. “Of course they are Bruce. Didn’t you just see their kiss?! Even more important why do these two know of you and we don’t?” Tony asked and it was clearly getting on his nerves.
“Well Tony because they are my friends and I knew they wouldn’t tell anybody and to you Bruce, she’s my wife not my girlfriend” she answered as she wrapped her arm around your waist with her hand on your belly. “And she’s caring our beautiful baby inside her so if any of you do ANYTHING to hurt her I’ll kill you.”
“Be nice. Well it’s late guys so, we have 4 rooms where you guys can stay so some of you have to team up and there are emergency cloths in every room and each one has a bathroom. So make yourselves at home and get a good night sleep.” You introduced and showed them the rooms.
After that you went to your bedroom to hear the shower and decided to join your beautiful wife. As soon as you opened the door of the shower you gasped. The skin was littered with bruises and cuts. “Natty, what happened?” You asked as you stepped into the shower, “you know how it is. It happens but I promise I’m fine” she promised you while pulling you closer. “You better be”
You turned Nat around and washed her hair before washing her body and pressing kisses to all the bruises. “You know that I should look after you right?” She asked as she started to wash your body her hands lingering on your belly. “You don’t know how happy I am to have you, the both of you of course” she told you before kissing your belly and then your lips.
The quick shower you anticipated turned into a full blown make up session that was only interrupted when you remembered that you still had to feet the horses. “Let’s get dressed and then I’ll come with you” your wife said before pulling cloths out of the closet. You laughed at her when she gave you one of your own hoodies and reached for one of hers. “This one is way comfier” you said and put on your cloths.
When the redhead was ready she wrapped her arm around your shoulder and you made your way outside to the small stable. You were sure to give them enough of their food and hay for the night before making your way back inside to go to sleep.
“Was this your only option tonight? Not that I’m complaining, I’m always happy to have you and your friends here but I’m just really surprised.” You asked as you head rested on her shoulder. “It wasn’t but the mission was really tough and I didn’t wanna be anywhere else but with you. So I decided to take the team here.” You couldn’t help but blush.
“Well you should go to sleep but maybe we can go for a ride tomorrow morning and you can tell me what happened alright?” So the two of you fell asleep and unknown to the both of you it was the first time they had a full night of sleep.
When the team woke up the next morning they didn’t find Y/n nor Romanoff which scared them at first. But when they decided to look outside they saw them riding along one of the trails with their hands linked talking about what happened.
“I’ve never seen Romanoff this happy” Bucky said while looking at them. It felt like the first time he saw a genuine smile on the Russians face.
“I don’t think anybody has. It is actually really cute” Steve said. “Well you guys maybe didn’t, but we saw her the moment she figured out that Y/n is pregnant” Clint laughed at Wanda’s comment but nodded nonetheless.
“Yeah yeah, but am I the only one who didn’t know that Natasha can ride horses?” Tony asked just as the two of you stopped in front of them. “Well stark, Y/n showed me how” she said when she landed on the ground and walked to Y/n to help her down.
“Hey I thought we could have a campfire tonight” you suggested to which the team responded enthusiastically. “Great then how about you guys get the wood ready for tonight while Natty and I get stuff to eat” when everybody had a job to do you guys got going.
You were wearing a cap with a B on it that your wife got you for your first date while she was wearing a cap with your first letter on it. It was a small disguise to make it less obvious. The ex spy loved shopping groceries with you, it made her feel domestic and at peace.
“So I go that way, you go that way and we’ll meet back here in 15 minutes?” She asked before pressing a quick kiss to your lips and disappearing. You made your way to get the stuff for her favorite food and desert. She was barely with you so you took every chance to spoil her when she was there.
The funny thing was Nat thought the same thing. She hated being away from you so she tried to make up for it by spoiling you. The problem is she couldn’t cook, so she had to make do. She brought your favorite candy, drinks, a stuffed animal she thought was cute and some of the things she knew you liked for breakfast and made a mental note to ask Wanda later.
So 15 minutes later you both met at the cashier and paid before walking to the car. “you don’t have to spoil me when I’m here you know” she said to you as she opened the door of the car for you. “You don’t have to either you know” you countered while grinning at her when she got into the driver seat. Her hand came to lay on your thigh as she started the car and made her way back.
The rest of the day was spent with prepping the food and getting to know each other. Natasha made Tony help her change the oil in your car while you and Wanda cuddled on the couch. You’ve always been clingy but since you’ve been pregnant you were extra clingy and always needed someone to hold on to which is why Yelena also often visited you.
“Maximoff, trying to steel my wife?” Nat asked as she walked back inside with Tony trailing behind her. “You know I wouldn’t dare, but treat her wrong and I’ll swipe her away from you” Wanda said grinning at you.
Your wife grumbled before going to wash her hands. When she came back Steve and Bruce had finished setting up the fire and called all of you out. You had some couches and armchairs outside which were really comfy. Bruce and Tony sat on one couch while Steve and Bucky sat on the one across from that. Clint and Wanda sat on the opposite side from you and Nat. The two of you shared a big armchair where you sat half on top of her with your legs hanging over the side and a blanket draped over you.
While you guys ate and talked you realized that this is something you wanted in your life. Not just once but permanently. You leaned your head next to hears and whispered into her ear. “I love your friends and I want us to do this way more often” it made your wife’s heart melt and her arms tightened around you. “Well then let’s do it”
The team decided to stay for a week and that whole week you and Nat were inseparable and completely in love that it made Tony want to throw up.
“How do the two of you stay in love like that?” Wanda asked you as you sat outside with Natasha asleep on your shoulder. It made you smile and press a kiss onto her forehead. “You’ll know when you meet the right person. Suddenly it’s not hard to stay in love. I could wake up to her beautiful face every damn day and I wouldn’t get tired of it. Once you meet them you’ll know wands. Trust me. And you’ll meet them.” You reassured her before hugging her as best as you could without waking Nat.
I hope this is what you wanted. If not just let me know and I’ll try again. Have a great day everybody
This is what I imagine the cabin like:
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#marvel x you#marvel#reader insert#natasha romanoff#brooooswriting
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I keep thinking about Chapter 3 of the mini thh cast, since you mentioned that Nagito asked Hajime to take care of Makoto and dodged a bullet with Mikan... I can't help but wonder what if he didn't ask that? What if Makoto was in Mikan's care? Would she kill him, thus getting Nagito executed? But wouldn't that be too obvious, since she was taking care of him? Wouldn't it be super suspicious if he died?
So then what would she do with him? Try to cause him despair? Hurt him but not kill him? Would that fuel Nagito's suspicions of her, where Makoto tells him what happened (or at least the gist, not any details about memory recovery), and he starts hating her because she hurt his little guy? Or Makoto refuses to spill what happened (because he's afraid of exposing her memory recovery and making questions pop up), but Nagito can tell something is off, and that's part of why he starts to suspect Mikan, too? I feel like there could be fascinating Nagito & Mikan & Makoto interactions from this...
Or maybe Mikan tries to find a way to kill Makoto? Like pretending he's been kidnapped? Only to kill him later? Maybe?
I just can't get the thought of Chapter 3 happening with Mikan having a little mini Makoto during all of it. It would, undoubtedly, be a mess.
I'm glad you asked, because I was actually thinking about that, too. First of all, even if Hajime did have Makoto, Mikan could still access him while Hajime is sleeping. In the seconds or minutes before those two separate scenes where Mikan climbs on top of Hajime while he's sleeping, she could abduct or harm Makoto without any interference.
I'm imagining a situation where, instead of using "falling asleep on top of Hajime" as an alibi, when she sneaks into Hajime's cabin, she sedates Hajime so he won't interrupt her, then grabs Makoto from where he's sleeping– in the same general space as, but with a respectful distance from, Kyoko.
Makoto wakes up with Mikan's hand wrapped around his whole body and her other hand caressing his cheek with her forefinger.
"Wakey wakey," she giggles.
"Mikan?"
"Did you have a nice rest? After all that excitement with Nagito, it seems like you and I have barely had time to talk." She's still petting his cheek with a finger. "I'd like to continue our conversation from before. You don't remember it, but that's okay. You can just listen. Don't worry– we won't be interrupted."
Kyoko has woken up by this point. She tries to discreetly sneak away from her little bed, but Mikan swats her onto the floor and puts her foot on top of her. Threatening, maybe injuring, but not killing.
"Mikan, what are you doing?!" Makoto asks.
"Look at you. So tiny, you fit in one hand. And in comparison, my beloved is everywhere. I can taste my beloved in the air I breathe. This will be a beautiful place to die, don't you think? But first..." She takes out a needle small enough for a tiny person. "My best despair for the one who took my beloved from me."
She sedates him, and he wakes up in any of the following situations or something similar:
Inside the mini-fridge in Nagito's cabin. (She has access to his key, since she's the one who changed him into the hospital gown.) Because Makoto's tiny, there's enough air that he won't suffocate during the investigation and trial time, if he's in there for that long. The cold is a significant threat to his life, but it's just short of freeze-to-death temperature, depending on how long he spends there.
He's in some kind of uncomfortable position in addition to being cold– maybe there's an overturned dish on top of him, placing just enough weight on his back that he's constantly being a little bit crushed, or maybe he's under a glass, or maybe he's taped to the wall or dangling upside down (the last of which I can only imagine is really dangerous for his health).
Kyoko is in there with him, also drugged, probably with a broken leg or something from being stepped on. Nagito finds them because his cabin key was on top of his jacket instead of in his pocket, when he woke up, so he knew where to look.
Pinned to a cork board with pins pierced perfectly through the gaps between his ulna and radius and his tibia and fibula, rendering him painfully immobilized. In this situation, Kyoko is not with him. Maybe Mikan has drugged her with something heavy enough that she doesn't remember anything she saw or heard immediately before, so Hajime just finds her in her regular spot, heavily drugged and physically injured, with Makoto missing. Once again, Nagito has to find Makoto. Hajime probably offers to help, since from his perspective, he's the one who lost him, but Nagito urges him to focus on investigating. (Nagito already knows who did it from very early on, so he has time to break away and look for his poor kouhai.)
Floating on an ice cube in a cup of water. He can't reach the top of the cup, so once the ice melts, he has to keep himself afloat to avoid drowning. This could be literally anywhere. In this situation, he's not as hurt when Nagito finds him as in the previous two; he's just exhausted. Although, maybe it's a glass of soda or something other than water. I have to imagine that being a tiny person in a glass of soda would feel bad on the skin; his skin would be proportionally thinner, and it's very acidic. And again, Kyoko's just heavily sedated and left with Hajime.
She would want to hearken to the crushed-to-death execution, since it's what killed Junko and what should have killed him, but the only self-sustaining thing I can think of for that, that wouldn't just kill him, is putting him between books in the library, which feels kind of impersonal? Idk. Maybe under the insole in her shoe, if she's willing to carefully avoid actually stepping on him with that foot. Her seeming to have a weird limp would be a good way for Nagito to guess where Makoto is, but the move itself just seems pretty weird, lol.
I'm not actually suggesting this, but I will say an actual Danganronpa game might have a gag where after the trial Nagito asks what she did with Makoto and she either has him in her bra or says something that seems to imply he's in her bra but actually he's, like, wrapped up in a bandage somewhere on her person. Either way, another situation where the discomfort is of the slowly-getting-crushed variety. And also temperature.
Okay so stay with me here. Or actually, stay with me if you're okay with this one being really grim compared to the other ones; if not, go ahead and skip this bullet point. Okay, so it's the fridge situation again, except the temperature is definitely going to kill him if he doesn't do something. Kyoko isn't there. But all of the kouhais Mikan has been taking care of are dead in there, in a pile, and the only way for Makoto to stay warm is by crawling under them.
He's in Mikan's cabin, taped down with a needle full of some chemical that will make him sick or feel pain. Nagito figures out that he's in there but can't get him out until after the trial, at which point he breaks the door to get in, because Mikan refused to give him the key before her execution and Monokuma refuses to just let him in like he usually does. Getting to launch an assault on Mikan's door would probably be pretty cathartic, after Mikan's little "lol no one loves you" moment after the trial, which will definitely inform how much he throws himself into Makoto's recovery.
All of this assumes that the senpais are allowed a grace period to find their kouhai, so long as the kouhai is still alive, before they're counted as having lost them and being punished accordingly.
If Nagito finds him before the trial, there would be a consoling moment where Makoto is falling over himself trying to explain what happened and who did this to him, and Nagito calms him down, bandages any major injuries, and reassures him that he knows it was Mikan and she won't get away with it. He's speaking pretty calmly, but he is shaking with anger, enough so that he has to pause and take a deep breath in order to keep bandaging him. He's never felt this kind of protective anger before.
He's even angrier knowing that Mikan is the one who would normally be trusted to take care of Makoto's injuries. He gently hides Makoto so that Mikan won't find out he found him, and he maintains his cold, passive aggressive treatment of her until the truth comes out, because not to do so would ruin the game, and he's going to continue to care about the game until next chapter.
The fun thing about speculating as to what Mikan might do to him (if "fun" is the right word, lol) is that right after this case, Nagito finds out about the Ultimate Hope thing, so the hard swing from lowkey torture to lowkey worship is a thing.
There's definitely some gap in time between Nagito just being worried about his kouhai because he cares about him (and having to deal with the fact that he's not okay with Mikan doing this to Makoto and can't really convince himself that he would've been okay with it if she'd done it for hope instead of despair), and Nagito finding out Makoto's the Ultimate Hope and no longer having to engage with the idea of caring about someone for their own sake.
(Sorry if I didn't fully answer your question. If there's a part you want me to focus on, you can ask again!)
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if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @rosieathena - thanks so much!! ♡
Spencer Reid x gender neutral!reader
WARNING: mention of drugs...duh? also I’ve only smoked weed a couple times, so Im not sure how “accurate” this’ll be to the stoner stans out there
Reid Smoking Weed
- you only really brought it up as a joke on one of the many occasions Spencer curiously questioned your experience with weed
“Maybe you should smoke with me sometime and get your own answers to those questions, my opinion may be the complete opposite to yours!”
- needless to say, you werent prepared for his response
“Would that be ok with you?”
- you immediately recognised his fears, as well as your own anxiety at the thought of Spencer involving himself in drugs of any kind, considering his previous addiction issues
- but you also knew that Spencer had done every bit of research he could on weed, he knew it was only addictive in severe cases and that the limited damage caused to memory etc as a result of smoking weed is only relevant to habitual smoking. he knew what he was getting himself into, so what he was really asking was whether you would be ok with guiding him through his first, and most likely only time smoking weed
- you agreed, and the that evening the two of you headed back to your apartment after work
- he watched with intense eyes as you rolled a joint and lit it, before bringing it to your lips and taking a long drag of it
“It tastes a little weird, some say it tastes like cheese, others say it tastes like the way balloons smell and raisins, it’s kinda open to whatever you assosciate it with I guess.” You warned him, knowing he may not enjoy the taste at all, as it does take some getting used to
- you looked him in the eyes and he locked his gaze onto you, ready to fully absorb the instructions you were about to give him
“Try to copy exactly what Im about to do. This is your first joint, so dont inhale too much, just take it easy to start off with, we’ve got all night to get through the whole thing. You’re bound to cough, even more experienced smokers do, so dont be embarrassed about that. Are you ready?”
- he nodded wordlessly, and you took another hit, feeling his eyes on you the entire time as you inhaled only a little, held it, and then exhaled, before passing him the joint
- Spencer held it between his fingers curiously, examining it and taking the time to appreciate the fact that he was in fact holding a lit joint for the first time in his life
- it took him a few seconds to lift it to his lips, and you could tell he was hesitant, so you took ahold of his free hand to ease his nerves
- closing his eyes, he let the drug enter his system, only inhaling a little before he started coughing, but he did his best to hold it just as you had
- you patted his back and took the joint back from him, taking another hit yourself
“How was that?”
“Not as bad as I thought, you were right about the taste though...weird.”
“Do you want another hit?”
“I’d like to get the full experience of a weed-influenced high, so however many ‘hits’ I have to take, I suppose I’ll do.”
- with that, you passed the joint back to him and rolled yourself a fresh one
“Take that in your own time, we’ll see how long it takes to kick in and you’ll experience an enlightenment like no other.” You joked, but Spencer nodded excitedly, clearly so unaware of the real affects of weed that he would believe anything you said
- and so, you sat with Spencer, exchanging small pieces of conversation in between bringing your joints to your lips
- it didnt take long for you to notice it beginning to have an affect on both you and Spencer, so you stood up from the couch
“Im about to change your life.”
- Spencer watched you in a daze as you connected your phone to a bluetooth speaker and started playing some super chill music
- you swayed in time with the song, placing your phone down slowly and turning to Spencer, who had his eyes closed in an intense blink as he threw his head back
“I dont know what this song is but I looooove it.”
“Then dance with me, pretty boy!”
- you leant forward to grab Spencer’s hands, and he was quick to lamely place his joint back in his mouth just like you so that you could dance together
- and until the early hours of the morning, the two of you danced in what felt like slow motion, laughing at the dumbest shit imaginable long after you’d finished your joints
- at one point some of your hair fell to the wrong side of your face and Spencer lost it, he was in hysterics for 15 minutes straight, cackling with tears rolling down his cheeks as he laid on the floor
- naturally, the two of you ended up sky high, half naked and making out on the floor as the sun came up
“So, what was your first experience of weed like?”
“I think I have decided - though I cant be sure because Im still very much under the influence - that I will gladly ‘take hits’ with you anytime! But will we makeout every time?”
“Spence, we can makeout without weed, we’ve been dating for three years.”
“Oh yeah!”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#imagine#imagines#x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#headcannon#criminal minds
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Nightshade
Chapter 22 | Chapter 24
Holy shit it's been a minute! Hi y'all! I'm back! Life's been absolutely insane lately and finding the time or the inspiration to write has just been really hard the past month or so. So, sorry this has taken so long to get out, but to make it up to y'all here's a 40 PAGE chapter! 😅😂
TW: THIS TW CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS! The usual, language, smoking, drinking, mentions of drugs and alcohol, some very painful memories, mentions of abuse/neglect, mentions/descriptions of nudity and inappropriate photos of a minor, violence, blood, character death, panic attacks, general not so good stuff is gonna go down, unhealthy coping mechanisms (aka ignoring all the shit going wrong until we can't anymore), make out scenes, dirty talk, some minor roleplay if you squint, and finally some fuckin SMUT! Yeah, the will they won't they train has FINALLY left the station! We've got some teasing, foreplay, oral female & male receiving (kind of a little), penetration, nipple play, idk what else to tell ya xD And a little bit of unhealty family drama at the end of it :)
Also it's super late where I live so this chapter was very VERY roughly edited, so if ya see any mistakes, no you don't xD
Chapter 23: Oysters & Champagne
The greatest changes happen with time. It is the slow, steady progression that paves the way forward for bigger, brighter things. The shift between day and night, the methodical building of new cities and roads, and the lowering of one's guard to allow connection and emotion to take hold. The greatest things often happen slowly, then all at once.
As I watched Jake sign to Prue from across the diner table, taking her feedback with a determination I wouldn't have expected from him when we'd first met, it was hard not to think of Rada's old saying. “Slowly, then all at once,” Rada explained as she helped guide my brush into lighter, slower strokes. “See? Rome was not built in a day my Lena, your painting will not be perfected in that time either.”
So much had changed in the past months that it was hard to even remember how it all began. In the beginning, Jake had been just another annoying bad-boy bartender that wanted a quick easy fuck and I'd been just another closed-off, flighty back waiter. Yet, here we were, sitting side by side in a diner booth. It was strange to think that when we'd first met I wanted nothing to do with him or his flirtatious advances and now… Now I couldn't imagine a moment without him.
“Okay, okay, let me try this,” he said with a sly grin. “Your boyfriend is a pussy.”
Prue rolled her eyes, but admitted, “You're improving.”
“Thank you,” he beamed, clearly pleased with himself and his joke.
She reached over the table and flicked his head. “You're an ass.”
Jake rubbed his forehead as I laughed. “You deserved that.”
“Worth it.”
As we happily resumed eating our breakfasts the diner door opened and slammed shut. Quinn tore her jacket off and threw it into the booth as she slid in and picked up her menu. It'd been like this for a few days. Quinn would show up pissed off about something, we'd ask, she'd tell us it was nothing and then she'd get drunk every night. It was an obvious cycle of coping, the question was what she was coping with.
Prue and I shared a glance, trying to work out the best way to approach the subject. Jake, however, just went straight into speaking, “What's crawled up your ass?”
“Nothing,” she ground out glaring at him from behind her menu.
He laughed. “And you call me grumpy.”
Something in her finally broke. “Fuck you, at least I have a reason to be so grumpy!”
“Yeah?” He continued to press, the asshole in him just unable to contain his glee at getting a rise out of someone. “Like what?”
“Like my dumbass fucking dad showing up!”
The silence that followed was interrupted by the sound of our forks clacking against the plates. Quinn's dad was something serious, something that rarely came up anymore but serious all the same. He was a known addict who spent her entire childhood bouncing between neglect and full-fledged abuse. When Quinn lived across the street from us we could hear him yelling and throwing things at all hours of the day. At night he'd leave, sometimes for weeks at a time, and Quinn would essentially come and live with us until her dad came pounding on our door demanding his kid back.
My dad had beat the shit out of him more times than I could remember, but other than that there wasn't much we could do, not when Quinn refused to let us. For years she held out hope that her dad would one day get things figured out and they could be a real family. That hope died when she turned sixteen and he disappeared. After she'd grown up and gotten on her own two feet he started showing up at random asking for money or a place to stay while he “figured some things out”, but that always ended the same. With Quinn brokenhearted.
“Your dad's back in town?” I asked. “Why didn't you say anything?”
“It doesn't matter,” she responded.
“Yes, it does! We all know what he puts you through, Quinn. We could-”
“You could do nothing because unlike you I don't have two big brothers and a drug dealer on speed dial.” The harsh words settled over the table, sinking into both of us for a minute before Quinn shook her head and relented to the tired ache in her. “I… I'm sorry, Lee. I didn't mean that.”
“It's okay,” I reassured her, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I know.”
Tears built in her eyes but she wouldn't cry, not because of him, not ever again. “I told him to fuck off already so he's probably halfway back into whatever hole he crawled out of.”
Prue put her arm around Quinn's shoulder and hugged her. “Want us to stay with you? I can close up shop for the day.”
“I can call in,” I offered.
“I can say pussy,” Jake added, getting a laugh out of her. “Seriously though, I dunno what they're saying but… Fuck your dad.”
She sniffled and shook off the wave of sorrow. “Thanks, all of you, but I'm good.”
Holding out her pinky Prue gave her a look. “Pinky swear?”
Quinn shook it and nodded. “Pinky swear.”
“And, just for the record,” I said, “My brothers would always come to help you, Quinn. So would Dom. You're not alone.”
“I know,” she whispered, but I could see what was left unsaid in her eyes. It's not the same. We may have been Quinn's found family, but the hurt in her was the same as Patrick felt. She knew she wasn't blood… She knew if it came to a choice between me and her my brothers would choose me every time. And nothing I said or did would change her mind on it.
The ring of Jake's phone broke the uneasy silence. He checked the number with narrow eyes. “It's Dom.”
“Dom's calling you?” Quinn questioned, forcing herself to relax even just partially.
“Okay, what did you guys do that day I was gone?” I teased. “First he's actually using your government name, then he's calling you on the phone?”
Jake shushed me as he answered. “Hey, what's up? Uh… No, I don't. Sure, I guess. Yeah, see you in a bit.”
“What was that about?”
“Apparently I'm getting a couch and a TV.”
I shook my head and nudged him. “Seriously, what did you do?”
Jake shrugged, taking a final bite of his food before standing. “Don't worry bout it, Princess. See you at work.”
“See you at work,” I replied. “Don't break any legs trying to move that shit into your tiny apartment.”
He flipped me off as he made his way out the diner door and headed out. When I turned back to the table Quinn and Prue were both grinning at me. “You've seen his apartment now?”
“It's not a big deal,” I replied.
“Is this part of that juicy phone call I intercepted a while ago?” Her eyebrows rose. “A sexy debt if I remember correctly.”
“I have no clue what you're talking about.”
Prue slapped her hands on the table. “Spill it!”
“There's nothing to spill,” I insisted.
“Bullshit!” Quinn interjected. “You were gone all day.”
With a roll of my eyes and a giddy, girlish feeling making my stomach fill with butterflies I caved. “We just hung out and took a few pictures with his camera.”
Quinn's brows wiggled. “Sexy pictures?”
“Maybe…”
Prue happily squeaked. “Oh my god did you two finally-”
“No.”
Quinn groaned, throwing her head back. “Oh my god! Just fuck already!”
I shook my head. “Classy, Quinn.”
“Seriously!” She continued. “I feel like I'm getting blue balled and I'm not even involved in your almost fucks!”
“Just think about how great it would feel to finally do it,” Prue added. “I know I was absolutely buzzing when Will and I finally did!”
“I…” With a sigh I looked down and quickly, quietly admitted. “I have thought about it.”
Quinn quickly translated for Prue and both of them became insatiable for the rest of breakfast.
*
Jake watched the bikers easily maneuver the decently sized couch and the modest TV around the stairs and up into his apartment. He'd attempted to help a few times but quickly got told to “bugger off” by what looked like an eighty-year-old man, so he just stood and watched. Dom stood next to him, silently observing before he finally asked, “Well, what do you think?”
“It looks good,” he answered. “Still a bit confused as to why you're giving me this shit but hey, frees free.”
Dom chuckled, a real chuckle. “I don't got the room for it, besides, you earned it.”
Shaking his head, Jake once again reiterated the facts. “I didn't do anything. I just-”
“You just protected her,” Dom finished for him. “That ain’t nothin’, Jake.”
“Yeah, but I don't need… Payment or anything for it.” He looked at Dom, meeting the hardened eyes. “I didn't do it for that.”
“I know.” The drug dealer clapped him on the shoulder. “Consider it a gift then.”
“Didn't take you for a guy that gave out gifts.”
“I'm not, so just say thank you and we'll never speak of it again.”
Jake chuckled. “Thank you, Dom.”
“Shut up,” he answered, nodding to the new space. “It's a bit crowded.”
With a shrug, Jake just examined the soft leather. “It's not too bad. I'm used to tight spaces.”
Hemingway leaped onto the sofa, purring as he rubbed the soft leather on his skin. “Well, at least the cat likes it.” Dom watched the others leave and moved to follow. “Call me if you can't get the TV workin'. I'll have John come out and fix it.”
“John's the one that calls me a twit, right?”
“Yep.”
“I'm sure the TV works fine.” He waved them off and closed the door, staring at the tiny living room he now had set up.
It wasn't perfect or fancy, most people would even argue that it was too much for the already cramped space, but Jake kind of liked it. His chair had gotten pushed into the back corner with his guitar on top of it. The edges of the couch left only a little room for people to slide past to the bathroom, but he rarely had company over so that didn't matter much. The TV fit on top of one of his shelves and left enough room for him to put DVDs or VHS tapes up too. He'd moved the thin coffee table he never used into the center of the space, pushing it up against the shelf a bit so there was enough legroom for the couch and then he sat down.
“Well,” he asked, turning towards the cat. “What do you think?”
Hemingway's only response was a loud purr as he curled up on the section of couch that was bathed in sunlight.
Jake chuckled at the creature and settled into the leather, resting his head against the back of the couch. “Yeah, it's pretty nice.”
*
22West was relatively quiet when I got in. The kitchen was almost done with prep work and from what I could tell we weren't overbooked. The locker room was empty and stayed empty as I changed into my work attire. It felt kind of nice, to have a moment of quiet to myself at the start of a hopeful easy shift.
Jake set his bike down by the door and quickly entered, hair still disheveled. I closed my locker and smirked at him. “You're running later than normal.”
“I fell asleep,” he answered, practically tearing the locker open and throwing his newly returned jacket to me. I opened my mouth to protest, but he just gave me a look over his shoulder, “Just let this one be easy for me tonight?”
“Fine,” I agreed, reopening my locker and shoving the jacket inside. “Just this once.”
“Thanks, princess.”
“How was moving your couch in?”
Jake just chuckled. “I barely touched the damn thing. The bikers took care of everything.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they're pretty efficient when they wanna be. So, are you ever gonna spill the beans on why you're all so buddy-buddy all of a sudden?”
He glanced at me, a fleeting thing shining in his eyes before he looked down at his tie and shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell, really. I just came looking for you and they… Respected that.”
Glaring at him through narrow eyes I reached up and helped him with his tie. “Likely story.”
“You worried they'll start to like me better than you?” He teased.
“As if!” I laughed. “You're not nearly that charming.”
With a smirk, Jake leaned forward, “So how charming do you think I am?”
Humming in thought I knew the real answer. The instant, resounding too charming filled my brain for a minute before I answered. “I'd say you're a solid four.”
“Four?!” He scoffed. “I'm higher than four.”
“You certainly think so,” I replied with a wicked grin, my hands smoothing down his chest. His phone buzzed against the metal material of his locker. “I'll save you a plate, sweetie.”
Rolling his eyes he answered with a simple, “Thanks.”
Once I'd emerged from the kitchen the noise that the restaurant had been absent of, filled the space. Everyone was gathered around the wall instead of at the table eating. They whispered to one another, giggling and making suggestive faces. “What are we giggling about?”
Sasha smirked, giddily grabbing my wrist to pull me towards the wall. “We are just admiring the new painting that has graced our humble restaurant!”
The crowd parted and my heart stopped dead in my chest. There, hanging on the wall in front of me was, well, me. My portrait. My nude portrait. I felt lightheaded, my vision blurring, and the voices of everyone joking and teasing were suddenly drowned out by a loud, shrill ringing.
It wasn't the sight of my nude body that filled me with a sense of dread. Though I still hated the sight of it - of what it had originally represented - it was the large splatter of crimson that stained the canvas that truly made my heart sink. It was the vivid and violent contrast between the soft hues of acrylic and the hard flakes of dried blood.
My brush slid along the canvas, the bright hues of blue and yellow, and lavender contrasting against the neutral skin tones of my self-portrait. I'd struggled to look at it, the fleshy rendering of my mostly nude figure. Its imperfections made me feel even more inadequate than I already did, the reference photo being one of the first that Tony had taken of me. That was his art, dressing and posing me to look perfect - to look like the beautiful and obedient woman he always said I'd grow into.
Truthfully I hadn't even considered painting something for this upcoming gala, having known well in advance they only wanted nudes or mostly sos to display. That wasn't what I painted, nor was it something I was particularly interested in doing, but Tony had insisted. So, there it was in all its hideous, imperfect glory. The portrait of a self I didn't even feel was me, but rather the hollow husk everyone else wanted. Everyone but Rada.
She peered over her shoulder, watching me paint for a moment as she cleaned the penthouse living room. The look on her face told me that she hated it as much as I did. But, she said nothing about how cold and lifeless it felt or about how she thought it in poor taste to paint a fourteen-year-old nude. Rada just kept cleaning, offering me what reassurance she could, like she always did. And like always, just knowing she was here was enough.
The elevator dinged open and Jules held Tony up, guiding him to the nearest chair and helping him get settled. It was obvious that he'd just got back from one of his benders on the flight back from France so I tried to keep my eyes to myself. Tony was never predictable per se, but he was always constant. His violence was never random, nor was it ever out of the blue. But, that changed when he got high enough.
“I'll go get the doctor, just to be certain you haven't taken too much.”
He chuckled. “Ever loyal, my dear friend. Some in the house could learn from you.”
The jab was obviously meant for me, but I kept my eyes on my painting, hoping it would spare me his anger for at least tonight. Jules exited quickly and with him gone, everything fell apart. The first noise I heard was the sound of metal clinking against the marble countertop, and the next was the bone-chilling sound of the cylinder of his revolver spinning.
My brush froze on the canvas, ears honing into the slow steps he took toward me before he hauled me up by the hair. “Let's play a game, baby girl.”
“I…” The words struggled to find their way from my throat as my eyes caught Rada's. “I have to finish my painting for the gala tomorrow.”
“It can wait,” he insisted, throwing me back into the counter and pinning me against it.
He spun the cylinder again, a crazed grin settling on his lips as he held it to his head and pulled the trigger twice. As always, he laughed when I flinched and then forced the gun into my hand. “I don't-” His finger forced my own down onto the trigger.
The game played out like it always did until Tony's smile faltered and a rage seemed to fill his eyes. “Do you love me?”
I'd spoken the words so many times before then, but for some reason, I froze. My brain screamed at me, begging me to say it - to tell him I loved him, but deep in my heart I knew the truth. I don't love you. This isn't love. The rage spilled from his eyes, overtaking his face as he struck me hard enough to make my head hit the counter. The blow was enough to force the words out, “I do! You know I love you!”
“Is that right?” He spat, carelessly tossing the gun onto the counter and holding my head down on it. I gripped at him, searching for skin to scratch or anything to get him off me. “You didn't seem so sure just a moment ago.”
“No! I'm sure! I… I was just confused!”
“Confused?” He laughed, a sound that sent chills up my spine and made my muscles all tense. “Stupid girl. Do you even understand?” He hauled me up, holding my face in one of his hands so hard I could feel my jaw crack. “You're alive because I want you. If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing!”
“I know!” My lips trembled as I blinked back tears. “I'm nothing without you, Tony. I know that. Please…”
I prepared myself for another bout of his laughter, or another blow maybe, but neither came. Instead, I heard the cock of Tony's gun and a surprised… Annoyed sound leave his throat. “What do you think you're doing?”
“Let go of her,” Rada demanded. From the corner of my blurred vision, I could just barely see her, standing at the end of the counter pointing Tony's gun at him with slightly trembling hands. “You let her go now, or I swear on all of God's holy saints I will kill you.”
He laughed then, that deep, boisterous one that sent terror through me. Turning his head Tony smiled at me. “Seems you're not the only one that's forgotten their place.”
Through the tight grip of his hands, I begged, pleaded with him, “Please…”
With one harsh shove, my head collided with the counter enough to make my ears ring and my vision spin. I could hear his footsteps and the quiet sound of the gun's trigger being pulled.
Click.
Fear, desperate and heavy, filled my lungs and stole my breath as I scrambled to find my bearings.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Bang.
My vision cleared just in time to watch Rada collapse half on top of my painting. Blood gushed from the side of her neck, spraying across the canvas and staining the carpet. A sharp breath finally filled my lungs, yet I still found them breathless. “NO!”
I scrambled forward, pressing my hands to her neck and desperately trying to apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding. Her body shook beneath me, at least it felt that way… It could have been my own shaking. Through the sound of her gurgling breaths, I could hear Tony laughing. “L… Le…”
“Shh,” I urged. “Don't talk. Just hold on. Someone's gonna help.”
Rada smiled, tears filling her eyes as she struggled to lift a hand to lovingly brush my hair behind my ear. “My… Bea…utifil…” Blood splattered across my face as she coughed. “Da… Daugh…”
I could feel her skin grow cold as her chest stuttered and then stopped. “No! Mama please!” I sobbed, moving my hands to shake her shoulders. “Don't leave me here! Mama!”
“What's happened?” Jules’ voice cut through my screams as he burst into the room.
Tony, still laughing, waved him off. “One of the maids got a bit too bold. Don't worry, my friend, I took care of it.”
Rage filled me, rage and grief and a forever-festering desire to end it all. Chest heaving and lungs burning I stood and turned to the kitchen as Jules helped Tony back to his seat. I grabbed a knife from the counter and ran forward with a wail. Tony's eyes shined at the sight of me and the knife flying toward him as if this was what he wanted. Jules turned his head and with no hesitation, he threw himself between Tony and me.
Blood, hot and sticky, splashed my hands and face as my knife met flesh.
*
Jake glared at the message on his phone, a sense of regret and shame making him feel sick to his stomach.
Won't be back for another day or two. - Simone
When Jake had finally worked up the courage to answer her calls on Thanksgiving morning she'd been livid. She screamed at him for being so selfish and childish and demanded he stop with his attitude and come with her. He'd held his ground, of course, but the sting of her anger always made him feel like a pathetic eight-year-old boy being scolded. Jake had said sorry. He'd texted her, checking in, he even tried to call, but she'd given him nothing in response until now.
He breathed out a frustrated breath and put his phone back in his pocket, shutting his locker and hurrying downstairs to distract himself from the weight of his feelings with food and his friends gossiping. That, however, was not what he walked into. The group gathered around one of the walls, laughing and asking questions when he approached. “The fucks everyone pissing themselves over?”
Ari shifted, revealing more of the large painting that now hung on the wall of the restaurant. Jake’s jaw dropped at the sight of a nude figure - a body he'd grown most familiar with in the past months. If he'd been unsure at all, the bold curves of her name labeling the corner of the piece erased it. Lena.
The redhead in question stood, frozen staring up at it as Sasha talked and teased in her ear. A cold shiver crawled up his spine at the sight of her. This wasn't just some embarrassing nude portrait. This was something else. Something that made her spine stiffen and her skin lose its color.
Jake shoved past everyone and moved between Lena and Sasha. The Russian cursed at him in the foreign language. “What the hell?”
“Fuck off Sasha!”
With a prideful scoff, he turned away, shooing the crowd. “Bossy bossy!”
“Lena,” Jake whispered, reaching out for her. His fingers barely grazed her arm before she recoiled, a quick reaction he would have missed if he'd not been paying attention. She turned and looked at him with glossy eyes and a dead expression that made his gut tighten and his heart drop. “Lena?”
With a sharp exhale and a staggering step, she was moving. She stepped around him, shoved through the crowd and across the lobby. Her body flung itself through the kitchen doors and Jake followed, not even sure if it was what she'd want. The second he entered behind her he found her hunched over the garbage, throwing up the breakfast they'd shared. The kitchen crew all made noises of disgust and Scott dropped his utensils to turn and look at the disruption. “What the hell, Red?”
Lena composed herself, wiping the spit from her mouth with a shaking hand. “S-sorry chef.”
“Are you good now?” Scott asked, his tone as harsh and uncaring as it always was, but his eyes narrowed in concern.
Isaac had dropped everything and rushed to the front of the line, held off only by her raising a hand to stop him as she shook her head. “I… Just…” She looked like she was about to puke again, but held it back. “I just need a minute.”
As she turned toward the stairs, not meeting his eyes, Jake felt his worry shift to anger. This had to be him. The Anthony that Dom had told him about. And in that moment, Jake understood Patrick's bitterness about how little he truly knew. He felt unprepared - unequipped to offer Lena any help, but even with that aching feeling, Jake followed her up the stairs. He'd be there, no matter what she needed from him, Jake would be there.
*
I knew I was moving, talking. I could feel each strained movement and hear each shaky reply. None of it registered. In my mind, I was still standing in front of that painting… Still in the penthouse living room watching my mom bleed out. I was stuck, or my mind was, reliving that moment over and over again while my body just kept moving on autopilot.
“What can we do when we feel stuck?” Dad asked.
“Keep moving.”
“Keep moving. Find something to ground you.”
“Keep moving,” I murmured to myself as I stumbled up the stairs. “Just keep moving.”
I could hear someone following me up, but I didn't stop or look back. I just had to keep going. One foot in front of the other. When I finally made it to the locker room bathroom I barely registered slamming the door shut and fumbling for the knobs of the faucet. It felt like my head was spinning with the noise and the heat and the nausea.
“Get out,” I told myself in the mirror trying to focus on my face and drown out the sound of Tony's laugh with the running water. “Get out.”
“Stupid girl. Do you even understand?”
I was going to throw up again. “Get out.”
“If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing.”
A pounding came from the door as it got harder and harder to breathe. “Get out.”
“I'm the only one that could ever love you.”
In the background, I heard the door open, but whoever was standing in it was distorted… Replaced by Tony's laughing face and his thin frame. It isn't real, I told myself, but my body was already gone. Desperate panic forced the shrill cry from my lips, “GET OUT!”
Whoever it was vanished, but the fear didn't go with them. Every inch of me shook as I scrambled to find a foothold in reality. I needed something, anything to keep me from passing out. “Find something to ground you.”
There was one thing that would keep me going. One thing I could use. I turned the cold water off and stuck my hands beneath the boiling water. The pain made everything else fade away, forcing my body to stay on its feet and pulling my mind to the present. My heart hammered in my chest and a pained cry echoed in my ears as I stared into my own reflection.
Tears stained my cheeks and my hair had tiny clumps of throw up in it. It wasn't pretty, but it was real. I was here. The door opened again and Isaac opened his mouth, obviously having prepared something to say. That something vanished as he watched the steam rise up from the sink and he realized what I was doing. He ran forward and turned the water off, switching it to cold as he looked at my red hands. “Shit!”
“I couldn't get out,” I whispered in a broken… Pathetic voice.
Isaac held me from behind, keeping my hands beneath the now-cold water as I began to shake again. The pain was gone and without it, everything else started to creep back in. “It's okay, Lena. It's okay.”
“I…” A breathless whine caught in my throat. “I can't get out.”
“You're out,” he answered. “You're here.”
“I… I…” My body lurched forward, bile spewing from my mouth as panic began to set back in.
Isaac squeezed my hands and stammered before he released me. “Okay… Fuck… Okay, I… I'm gonna call Peter.”
I shut my eyes, setting my head against the chilled sink. “Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout.”
Without even really thinking I shut the cold water off and reached for the hot water knob. Find something to ground yourself. A hand settled on top of mine as a new body settled in Isaac's place behind me, one I recognized instantly. “Stop.”
Jake.
Standing upright I opened my eyes, I stared into his eyes through the mirror. “Can you tell me what you need?”
Clenching my jaw I shook my head as my chest stuttered with repressed sobs. “That's okay.” Jake gently pulled my arms back, crossing them over my chest and holding me tightly to his. “Can you feel my heartbeat?”
I nodded.
“Can you feel my breaths?”
I nodded again.
“Breathe with me,” he whispered, pressing his head to mine as he quietly counted. I watched us through the mirror for a minute before I let my eyes shut. Jake's steady breaths fanned across my neck, his heart beat against my back and his warm embrace sank into my bones. It was like his whole body was speaking to mine… Telling it that there was no danger. I was safe. “That's it, just breathe, Princess. You're here. You're safe with me.”
I'm safe. I'm with Jake. Slowly my breaths began to even out and my brain felt less muddled. I'm with Jake. My body stopped shaking and eventually, all that was left was us. I'm safe.
Isaac's panicked voice echoed as he walked back towards the bathroom door. “I don't know what to do! She's… I don't even know how to explain it.”
Swallowing, I quietly asked, “Is he talking to my brother?”
“Yeah,” Jake answered. “He got worried.”
“Can you tell him I'm okay now? I…” I opened my eyes and met Jake's gaze. “I don't want Peter to come all the way down here. Please.”
“Okay.” He looked down at the sink.
“I'm good now,” I assured him. “I'm just gonna sit down for a minute.”
If it were anyone else they'd likely have fought me, but this was Jake. He knew I wasn't lying. His hold on me loosened and he carefully helped me sit on top of the toilet lid. “I'll be right back.”
While the muffled conversation carried on outside the door I just sat there, staring at my reddened hands with an empty sense of impending doom. He was here. In this restaurant. He'd hung that painting where every guest, everyone passing close enough by the windows, would be able to see it. Still, I knew it wasn't about publicly shaming me. If that were the case he would've chosen to frame one of the many photos he had of me. This was a personal message. A reminder.
“If you're going to play games, you'd best be prepared to do whatever it takes to win.” He reminded me often after that night, that Rada had played and lost. That Francois had played and lost. Everyone always lost. “They don't have the mind or the stomach to win this game of ours, baby girl. We're still the only ones even playing.”
Deep down I knew what this meant. I knew, yet I refused to think it - to breathe life into that horrifying and terrible thought. He didn't get to toy with me. He didn't get to scare me out of this life.
This life was mine. I had survived his horrors, I'd taken the blows and I'd made my choices. I had fought and bled and killed for this life. He didn't get to take that away, not now, not ever. He didn't get to win.
I wiped my eyes and forced everything back into that box deep inside me. Once my feet steadied I walked out into the locker room where Jake had taken the phone from Isaac and was trying to talk my brothers down. I held my hand out. “Let me talk to them.”
Jake watched me for a minute before he nodded, “She wants to talk to you. Here.”
“Thanks.” I held the phone to my ear, listening to Patrick in the background throwing things around in search of his shoes. “I'm fine. Just stay home and take care of the gym.”
“Fuck that!” Patrick yelled.
“Is he there?” Peter asked, his voice filled with the rage he rarely had.
Sparing a glance at Jake I answered, “No. He's not stupid enough to show up with Dom around.”
“Then what happened?”
Flashes filled my head again as I forced myself to answer. “It's just a painting, Pete.”
“Which painting?”
“One you don't have to worry about,” I bit in bitter frustration. “Just… Please don't come. Please.”
“Lena you-”
“I am fine.” I insisted coldly. “I… I just want to work, okay? Can you just let me do that?”
Peter was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Promise me you're safe?”
As if on their own, my eyes drifted to Jake again, meeting those sea-blue eyes. “I promise.”
He shouted at Patrick before speaking again. “Okay. Put Isaac back on.”
“Thank you.” I turned towards the door where Isaac stood biting his nails. “Here.”
I watched him move out of the locker room, talking to my brother for a second before I turned back to Jake. What do I say? I asked myself. He no doubt had a thousand questions, all of which would be tied up in the painting… Which was tied up in Rada and Tony and everything I didn't want him to know. So, when his mouth opened I stopped breathing. “What do you need?”
What? My brain went blank in seconds as I gaped at him. “W… Don't you have like a million questions?”
“Course I do,” he replied simply. “The most important of them being that one. So, what do you need?”
“Honestly? I… Kinda wanna just forget this ever happened.” I admitted looking down at my feet. “
“That's gonna be kinda hard with that thing hanging up out there.”
“Yeah, it is.”
He shrugged a shoulder and moved to pass me. “Gimme one minute.”
I followed him to the door. “What are you doing?”
“Just trust me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Sasha!” He hollered, heading across the hall toward the front room. “Give me a hand real quick?”
Service started before Jake came back and so I jumped into work. I used it to distract myself from obsessing over the fact that hundreds of rich assholes were out there, no doubt looking at my painting - my body. That got harder to do when Will moved me to back waiting. The first follow of my night felt like I was walking right into a lion's den. And then it suddenly wasn't.
I didn't know what they did, all I knew was when I walked out of the kitchen and into the sea of customers, the painting was nowhere in sight. I looked at Jake as he worked behind the bar, and all the answer he offered me was a smile.
After that, the night felt a little less heavy and before I knew it we were all gathering around the bar for after shift drinks. I gave Nicky a pat on the back and smiled. “Head home Nick, I'll get it all closed up.”
“You sure?” He asked, handing me his bar rag.
“Go on,” I urged.
Jake and I worked side by side, serving drinks to each of our friends as they all mingled and began to filter out the door. It felt good to be behind the bar with him again, but whenever I looked up all I could see was that painting on the wall. Fighting that foreboding feeling was tiring and not something I wanted to spend all night doing.
“So,” Jake started cautiously as he stacked a few glasses. “Today was a lot.”
I sighed and looked down at the bartop. “Yeah… Sorry about earlier. I wasn't trying to be… I dunno, pathetic.”
“You were hardly pathetic,” he assured me.
“Thanks,” I whispered, finally looking up at him.
“For what?”
“Grounding me.” Suddenly shy beneath his gaze I looked away. “I have a hard time coming out of episodes like that and you… You made it less shitty. A lot less shitty. So, thank you.”
His fingers combed through my hair as he brushed it behind my ear. “No problem, Princess.”
“Let's get drunk tonight.”
With a smirk, he asked, “You think that'll help?”
“Can't hurt to try.” I shrugged, repeating the words he'd told me. “Besides, I kinda want you to be all over me again.”
Jake's smirk grew wider, turning to pull my body into his. “Like this?”
I nodded, happily drinking in the warmth and the smell of him. “Yeah. Like that.”
“Come on then,” he answered, tugging me out from behind the bar and throwing his jacket around my shoulders. “Let's go.”
*
Jake watched Lena dance from the bar as he nursed his first and likely only drink for the night. She'd been drinking steadily since they arrived, though no one seemed to want to discourage her from it. Peter and Patrick had told Dom shortly after Lena had talked them out of coming and so he and the bikers were nowhere in sight. Whether that was something to worry about or not, he didn't know.
At first, he'd considered talking to the brothers about the whole situation, but Patrick had just given him a shake of his head and nodded to Lena. A reminder that everything - or almost everything - they did was on her terms. They'd discuss it when she was ready to. She'll never be ready to, he told himself.
Lena was strong and stubborn. In those first months, he'd thought she was fearless. The longer he spent with her - with everyone - the more he realized that no one was truly unafraid. Everyone feared something and that was okay… It was normal to be afraid. Fear often meant that you cared about something outside of yourself. But, Lena's fear was something entirely different. Her fear was intertwined with her anger and her sorrow. So much of her was packed into the threads she refused to acknowledge let alone pull on.
So, she'd keep drinking and dancing and moving forward. She'd leave seeing that painting in the restaurant as buried as whatever memory it was tied to. And, though his stomach twisted into knots at the thought of leaving her panic attack in the bathroom unresolved, Jake would let her have this. He had to.
After an hour he excused himself outside, not bothering to take the alley to the couch while the bikers had vacated their spot out front of the bar. He grabbed his jacket from Lena's seat and fished out his cigarettes and his lighter, moving to pull one out when he looked up and saw Quinn. She was boxed up against the wall outside by an older, angry-looking man - her father if he had to guess. From the door, Jake could see the tears building in her eyes as he screamed at her and grabbed her arms to shake her. His jaw clenched and his feet carried him toward her. “Hey!”
“Jake-” she tried to interrupt.
He ignored her, shoving the man's filthy hands off Quinn and occupying the spot in front of her. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Her dad laughed. “You’re a real tough guy, huh? Do you know who the fuck I am?”
“Don't care.” Jake shoved him again when he tried to get up in his face.
“You're gonna regret this,” he said, spitting at Jake's feet as he glared at Quinn and slunk back into the night mumbling and grumbling curses and threats under his breath.
He waited until the man had vanished around the corner to turn to Quinn. She was closed off, almost angry as she huffed, “You didn't have to do that.”
“I know,” Jake answered, lighting his cigarette. He took a drag before wordlessly offering it to her. Quinn accepted and smoked in silence alongside him. “So, that's your dad?”
“Yep.”
“Seems like a real charmer.”
She sighed. “Yeah.”
Jake recognized the look in her eyes, that painful anger. “I never knew my dad, but he probably wasn't too different from your old man.”
“It sucks, right?” she asked, looking up at him. “Being so… Unimportant to someone that's supposed to love you.”
“Yeah, it does,” he earnestly replied. “But, we've got other people, you know… Better people.”
“I know,” she whispered. “That's different though.”
With a solemn nod, he agreed, “I know it is.”
“Thanks,” she said, clearing her throat. “For the smoke.”
“No problem. And, if he shows up again or bothers you or whatever, just call me and I'll come take care of it.”
“You don't have to worry about me,” Quinn insisted with a sad look.
It was a simple, sad sentence, one Jake had used countless times before. He knew the ugly truth that hid behind the words. I don't want to be weak. Weak. It was laughable to think anyone found Quinn weak. In all the time he'd known her, she was nothing short of sassy, strong, and confident. Yet, here, on the side of the street, Quinn looked small.
She must've felt small too, the way she kept glancing at him with that fearful hint of shame. Jake felt a few things swirl around in his chest. Anger that her shitty dad made her feel like this small and unimportant. Sad that her shitty dad made her feel unloved. But the strongest among them was a new, blinding need to protect her. Jake wanted to make sure Quinn never felt that way ever again and it was frightening for a moment. However scared he was of this new responsible feeling, he quickly decided that he didn't care.
He didn't care how scared he was, he knew Quinn and he knew that she deserved the same kind of family that she'd given him with her persistence and her meddling. “Yeah, but what kinda big brother would I be if I didn't.”
Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him and breathed out a soft laugh. “I…I've never had a big brother before.”
“I've never been one before,” he replied, looking anywhere but her face. “Guess it'll be something new for both of us.”
Quinn nodded, and without another word, she stepped forward and hugged him. “Well, just for the record, I can't think of a better idiot to be my big brother.”
He held her close, letting the words fill him with pride. “I have my smart moments.”
They held each other for a moment longer, both holding onto that feeling of family that neither of them had known - at least not like this. Then Quinn pulled away, wiping her eyes. “We should get back inside.”
“Yeah, we should.” He replied, following her with a steady arm around her shoulder.
*
I downed the shot in one quick motion, shaking off the burning tingling feeling that engulfed my face after. It felt nice to forget. The tingling was all I could really focus on… Well, the only other thing I could focus on.
Jake had been cool and collected all day. He'd handled the painting, the panic attack, and everything else seemingly with ease. While I made quick work of every drink Ian made, he slowly drank his beer and watched me with amusement. It reminded me of the last time I'd gotten wasted, what little of it I could remember.
Want. No matter how much I drank or how much I kept putting the big shit off, the want never lessened. As I watched Jake with that stoic face of his, all I could think about were those heated moments between us. All I could think about was how badly I wanted to do all of them again. So, with a wide, drunken grin I took hold of his hand and started pulling him through the crowd. “Come on!”
He chuckled but let me drag him to the back hall next to the bathrooms. “You gonna hurl?”
“No,” I giggled, stumbling into his chest. “I wanna kiss you!”
“Yeah? And we had to come over here to do that?”
“I'm not gonna make out with you in front of my dad!” I replied in a giddy, hushed whisper. “Do you wanna kiss or not?”
Jake stepped forward, backing me into the wall, his hands landing on my hips as I stared up at him in awe. “I always wanna kiss you, princess.”
With a satisfied hum, I gripped his shirt and pulled him towards me. “Good.”
In the dimly lit hallway surrounded by noise and bodies somehow in my mind, it was just the two of us. Jake's lips moved in time with my own, our hands grabbing at one another with a furious need to somehow be closer. The slight buzz of the alcohol made my head feel light and erased all of the lingering unknowns from my mind entirely. It was that mix that made me feel bold enough to touch Jake exactly how I wanted to.
I palmed him through his jeans, swallowing every moan until he pulled away from my lips with a groan. He squeezed my hips, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “Fuck.”
Smiling, I leaned forward and kissed his neck. “You're so pretty.”
“If you were sober I…” He groaned again as my teeth scraped his Adam's apple.
“You'd what?”
Jake looked down at me and shook his head, hands leaving my hips to take hold of my face. “I'd do a lot of things.”
“Sounds fun. Would I like it?”
“Definitely,” he whispered.
I smirked. “How do you know?”
Bumping our noses together Jake shrugged, “I have it on good authority I excel at the art of pleasure.”
“Hmm,” I hummed playfully, “I think you're just overconfident.”
“I'll just have to give you a private demonstration.” He sighed against my lips, amused and frustrated all at once. “When you're sober.”
“When I’m sober,” I repeated, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Raincheck?”
He chuckled. “Raincheck.”
“We can still make out though, right?”
“Absolutely,” he answered, pressing me back into the wall and wasting no time reconnecting our lips.
It wasn't until Patrick rounded the corner and quickly covered his eyes with a disgruntled groan. “God, can a man use the toilet without havin' to see his sister doing… that?”
With haste, Jake and I fixed our clothes and bashfully leaned against the wall. “Sorry, Pat.”
He walked past us, shaking his head. “I don't wanna see none of that when I walk back out. Get a room or something.”
The rest of the night was filled with laughter and too many shots, but it was good. As we played our shitty drinking games and teased one another I was blissfully content. All thoughts of the restaurant, the painting, Rada, Tony… It was pushed so far into the back of my mind that it was nothing more than a blurry memory.
As Jake walked Quinn and me to my apartment I noticed how relaxed she seemed. Even in my slightly drunk state, I recognized how the tension seemed to have lifted from her shoulders as she walked beside Jake with a smile. She felt safe with him and it made my chest feel warm and fuzzy. When we reached my door, she turned and hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” he replied, awkwardly patting her head. “I mean it.”
“I know.”
Giving them both a fond look I pressed one last kiss to Jake's lips. “Goodnight, tough guy. Try not to get beat up on your way home.”
He chuckled. “I'll do my best.”
“Tell our cat goodnight from me!”
“Goodnight, Lena,” he hollered as he walked down the sidewalk.
Inside Quinn and I flopped onto my bed, both tossing and turning, fighting over the blanket to try and get comfortable. “Hey,” I whispered as we both finally settled. “What happened tonight?”
She snuggled into the pillow and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Lee.”
“Quinn-”
“Seriously,” she replied quickly, a smile tugging at her lips. “My big brother took care of it.”
Even in my inebriated state, I didn’t need to ask who she was talking about. The answer was clear. I smiled and closed my eyes. “Jake’s good at that.”
“Yeah, he is.”
*
Jake stood in front of the bar, watching the workers closely as they situated the lights. Mr. Hiragana and I walked through the space of the new restaurant, now finally cleared of garbage and wreckage. It looked bigger than it had, but that might've just been how the fixed walls and proper lighting made it feel. “So,” the man beside me began, “I assume you and your colleagues have discussed the design of the space?”
“We have,” I answered, again glancing at Jake. “Scott doesn't care either way, so long as the kitchen is big enough with new appliances. Jake wanted full control of the bar.” With a smile, I handed him the simple sketches I’d done. “And you know me, I'm the one with the vision.”
“Of course,” he agreed, eyes carefully looking over the pages with a smile. “Your visions never cease to amaze me, little fish.”
Nudging him with my elbow I smiled. “So, you think it's doable?”
“It is fairly simple.” Handing the papers to the lead on the project they exchanged a few words before he patted my hand and looked around the room. “This will be the pride of the city when all is said and done.”
“That's ambitious,” I said with a laugh. “The big apples got a lot of gems.”
Nodding Mr. Hiragana said again, “And this will be one of them.”
With a tilt of my head and a soft smile, I squeezed his hand. “Were you always this optimistic?”
“Only after I met you,” he replied, squeezing my hand back.
“Was I ever this optimistic?” A sad feeling took root in my chest as I looked around at the clean slate. “It feels like so long ago that I had something like this… A dream.”
Mr. Hiragana nodded, his thoughtful eyes never leaving my face as he answered, “You have been through much these years we have been apart. You have changed… Grown not only in body but in mind. The little fish I met at that hotel so many years ago is not the same one that stands before me now. You have known sorrow, fear, loss.” With a proud gleam in his eyes, he nodded more assuredly. “And in spite of it all, you have survived. It is normal to lose one's optimism after such a trying journey. But, one day you will find it again.”
“You've grown wiser in our time apart,” I deduced.
With a deep laugh, he shook his head. “In some ways, I suppose. All that live to be my age have some wisdom to depart onto younger ears.” With a glance at Jake, he smirked. “Though, some of that wisdom is repeated words said by a much wiser voice than mine.”
“How do you mean?”
“Slowly, then all at once.” His words made everything still as Rada's bright smile and tender kiss on my head warmed me. Mr. Hiragana smiled again. “This is what she always said when encouraging you to follow your heart, yes?”
My eyes drifted towards the bar where Jake paced behind the wooden bartop. His eyes darted back and forth, memorizing the space he'd claimed as his and visualizing whatever it was his mind had thought up for it. For a split second, it was like I too could see that bright image he had in his head. A bar with soft lights and glittering bottles, pictures of everyone that mattered littering the wall behind it. A place that felt lavish and expensive without being so snooty and uptight. A place to feel at home.
Then that all vanished as his head turned and those blue eyes pierced mine. The vision faded from his mind, replaced by another… Less focused one. That wicked gleam shined like the sun over water as his tongue darted out to wet his lips and his eyes lazily moved down the length of me. Sinful. That was the only word I knew that properly described him as I broke eye contact with him and cleared my throat.
“Thank you.” I looked back up at him, ignoring the knowing look he gave me in return, and bowed my head. “For helping me find my way.”
He bowed his head in return. “You have always known your way, Little Fish. I have simply reminded you of it.”
I glanced at the time and bowed again. “We should be going.”
“I look forward to our next meeting.” He squeezed my hand one last time. “They would be proud of you.”
After leaving the crew behind to work on the building Jake and I headed to work. We made small talk about the progress of the restaurant, a subject Jake was still clearly uncomfortable with. “Mr. Hiragana says we'll probably be able to open before next years up.”
Jake stiffly nodded, eyes still staring straight ahead. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” I answered, watching him carefully. “So, how are you feeling about the whole thing?”
“Fine.”
I reached out and stopped him mid-step, my hand carefully laying on his arm and encouraging him to look at me. “Jake.”
He shook his head and sighed, “I feel fine. Excited… But… It's… It's just a lot and it's complicated.”
“Anything I can do to help?” I asked with a tender tilt of my head.
“No, I don't think so.”
I shrugged. “Well, I give you full permission to be an asshole about restaurant shit while you figure it out. That help?”
Jake chuckled, visibly pleased with the idea of an asshole pass. “Maybe a little.”
“Good,” I beamed back as the heavy cloud of tension dissipated and the rest of our walk felt normal again. It wasn't until we entered 22West that the weight of everything came crashing down over me all over again.
A new painting hung on the wall, not one nearly as painful to look at, but another all the same. The light blues of the waves gradually faded into black as the painting shifted focus from the boat - my mother's boat - to the nothingness that lurked beneath the water. My heart dropped into my stomach, twisting and tightening until it was nothing more than a ball of iron filling my stomach with dread.
*
The clinking of silverware felt louder that family meal than any other, at least it did to Jake. He sat next to Lena, whose eyes hadn't left the painting since they'd arrived. It was a simple image of a boat and the ocean depths, but he knew what it really meant to her… Some of it anyway. As his eyes passed between the painting and Lena's emotionless face, Jake wanted nothing more than to ask the question that hung on the tip of his tongue.
Why does this make you feel so afraid?
His best and only guess was that it had something to do with Anthony… Something to do with the three years that Lena tried her damnedest to never focus on. But, in that curious, protective way of his, Jake wanted to know more. He wanted to understand the situation fully so he could at least make an attempt to lessen the impact of it.
They had been the only two that hadn't already gotten dressed in those hideous shirts, having been late to oversee things at the new restaurant space, and as they changed in the quiet of an empty locker room Jake felt relieved no one else was here. The apprehensive, almost avoidant air around Lena never once lifted as he turned to look at her. “You okay?”
She didn't even glance at him when she answered, “It's just… A lot…”
He found it ironic that her words – her feelings mirrored his so perfectly. Any other time it would have made him chuckle, but right now all he wanted was to make her feel better. The panic in her voice as she screamed at him to get out the other day had made him feel physically sick. Seeing her using pain to somehow try to ignore the memories made him feel even worse. Jake wanted - needed - to help her.
“So take it out on me,” Jake suggested, her words from their walk circling around in his head as he closed his locker.
“What?”
“All that shit you're holding onto, take some of it out on me.”
“I'm not gonna do that.”
“Why not?” He asked with a hopeful smirk. “Like me too much?”
“Less and less each minute,” she weakly joked.
“Let's play a game,” he offered. “We go back in time tonight to before we became friends. I'll be my charming self and you can be a bitch.”
“Jake…”
Pushing himself off his locker he chuckled. “Oh come on, princess. Have some fun. Play a game with me.”
Shaking her head Lena finally nodded. “Alright, fine, I'll play.”
Jake smirked down at her. “See ya downstairs, Lana.”
“See ya, jerk.”
Tonight was gonna be fun.
*
“Behind,” Jake deadpanned for the third time tonight, the mischievous glow in his eyes the only thing giving away his true emotions. “Watch where you're standing, Lana.”
He’d been purposefully waiting until I’d stepped up behind him to turn directly into me and pretend to be annoyed. Part of his “game”. I'd been skeptical of his plan and it’d taken me a minute to adjust to the amped-up brand of his usual asshole behaviors, but once I did I actually found the whole thing… Fun… “Watch where you're walking, jerk.”
Jake slid out of the kitchen with nothing more than a smile. Everyone around us looked confused, but shocking none of them said a word. Isaac and Scott gave me the occasional questioning look, likely expecting me to explain it later. I didn't care about any of that though. I didn't care about the new painting or the past it dug up. I didn't care about Tony's obvious involvement. All I cared about was thinking up a new snarky comment to hit Jake with the next time I saw him.
I continued to switch between line and dish before moving to help restock the bar. Jake saw me the second I left the kitchen with the two bottles in my hand and slid to stand in the middle of the bar space, shaking his cocktail. “Sorry, I need the room.”
“Idiot,” I mumbled under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear me as I pressed my chest up against his back to slide past him. “Good thing for you I don't mind getting up close and personal.”
“Lucky me,” he replied, pursing his lips as he watched me bend over to grab the now-empty rack for the glasses.
He slid the drink to the guest who had ordered it and quickly turned, putting his body directly behind mine so I'd run into him when I stood up. I played into his hand and with an exaggerated eye roll I mimicked his words, “Behind.”
“Sorry,” he taunted. “I was just admiring the view.”
“I'm just surprised you have the time to admire anyone else's ass when you're so obviously in love with your own.”
Chuckling he let me pass. “I assure you, an ass like yours puts mine to shame, princess.”
“How flattering,” I deadpanned. “Save some of that charm for the people dumb enough to pay you, pretty boy.”
The night dragged on, but I hardly noticed how long it really was. Once the guests had vacated the dining room everyone drank themselves into a better mood. Nicky left early, leaving Jake and me to close the bar down. Next to me, Jake finished counting his tips with a click of his tongue, “Only four hundred tonight.”
“Well,” I sarcastically remarked, putting a bottle back in place. “Looks like tonight's gonna be a big fat bust. If only there was a way you could salvage your wounded ego.”
“Wanna know what I think?” He asked, ignoring my taunt as he side-eyed me. He poured Heather's drink into a to-go cup with a thoughtful grin.
“Desperately,” I answered in that slightly mocking tone he was known for.
Jake slid the cup to her and watched the group start to leave. “I think I should snag us some food from the kitchen while you grab a bottle from the wine cellar,” he turned and looked me up and down, reminiscent of how he had in the beginning. “Then we meet at my place in a half hour.”
The look in his eyes told me exactly what his words didn't, but I still wanted to hear him say it. With a coy smile and a tiny step too close, I asked in a light, teasing tone, “Like a date?”
“If that's what you wanna call it,” he replied just as teasing, but both of us could pick out the genuine nature in each other's words.
My heart did a flip inside. For the first time since the painting had arrived 22West felt like it should. It felt like just another space, one I didn't feel paranoid or anxious in. Jake was there, standing in front of me, inviting me to spend the night with him… Inviting me to forget about anything and everything else. Mr. Hiragana’s words - Rada’s words - echoed in my mind. “Slowly, then all at once.”
“It’s a date then,” I answered, a sudden hopefulness, or maybe blind courage, refusing to let old fears rob me of this - of anything else with Jake.
That cocky grin of his made me roll my eyes as he kept up the persona of that asshole-ish self we’d be toying around with all through service. “See you there, Princess.”
“Don’t get too cocky, pretty boy, or I’ll stand you up.”
Jake chuckled and shook his head. “No, you won’t.”
God this shouldn’t be so fun. “Won’t I?”
He bent his head down, crowding my space and letting his eyes shamelessly roam down to my cleavage. “You want this too bad to stand me up.”
I replied through the feeling of heat rising up my neck. “You seem confident about that.”
“I am confident,” he answered, tugging his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. “That’s the point of this game, isn’t it? We pretend to be the assholes we were to each other when we first met so we can finally just say what we really mean?”
Though I hadn’t seen the game that way before, it clicked the second Jake had said it. Everything that had happened the past few days… Thanksgiving, the bar, tonight, one thing after another after another after another all getting in the way of what I, we, wanted and dreaded more than anything. The conversation. The admittance. The game had given me - given us both - the courage to just come out with it, to commit once and for all to an action. A date. “You’re right.”
Jake smirked even wider, cocky and dickish as he leaned in closer, tilting his head ever so slightly in that smart-ass kind of way. “Am I?”
“Don’t ruin it.” I carefully pushed against his chest and took a step back. “Now, excuse me. I have an expensive bottle to steal.”
“That’s my girl,” he muttered, just low enough that I couldn’t be totally sure he’d even said it. He watched me turn and walk away, the burning feeling of his eyes on me only making my heart beat faster in my chest.
Down in the chilled wine cellar, I stood, staring at the shelves, as my mind caught up with my body. A date. Holy shit. This is a date. I glanced down at my plain attire and shook my head. “Nope.” Digging my phone out of my pocket I moved forward, scanning the bottles on the shelves as the line rang.
“Hello?” Quinn sang into the phone.
“Where are you?”
“Wow, not even a hi, how’s it going?”
“Quinn, no time!” I replied, hurriedly. “I need an outfit.”
She made a curious noise over the phone. “What for?”
“I…” A stupid gin made my cheeks burn as I answered, “I have a date.”
“Are you two finally calling your one on one time, a date?” Quinn inquired with a light teasing tone. “How bold of you.”
“Shut up, do you have something I can wear or not?”
With a sigh, I could hear her as she started flipping through her rack of clothes. “If you want my professional opinion, showing up in nothing at all would be your best option.”
Rolling my eyes I finally found the bottle I'd been searching for. “Quinn…”
“Fiiinnee, I've got a few options. See you in ten?”
“Sounds good, thank you!”
“Det-”
“Details as payment, I know Q.”
Bottle in hand I hurried up the stairs, saying goodnight to the dish crew as they finished changing and headed out into the chilled air. My steps felt both lighter and heavier as I walked beneath the neon lights and moved around the slow crowds. I tried not to focus on what this meant… On the obvious expectation that both Jake and I had at this point, but that was practically impossible.
We'd already done everything else, a fact everyone was keen on reminding us. We'd kissed and touched and whispered heated words. Jake and I were far past any normal friendship. We had been for a while. Yet, there we were using games to commit to an actual date. There we were coming up with some kind of excuse to meet at his apartment where things were bound to go a very specific way.
Are we even going to get to open this bottle? I wondered, nails picking at the fancy label. Or is he going to just kiss me the second I walk in? The vivid and tantalizing image of him pulling me into his apartment and pressing me into his front door filled my brain. Am I going to be able to not kiss him first? Another valid question.
Quinn's apartment wasn't far from Ozzy's or the club. She lived a few blocks up the way in a modest one-bedroom place she'd busted her ass to afford back in the day. The old, sun-faded brick shifted to peeling wallpaper as I made my way inside and up the creaking staircase to the third floor. The second door down the hallway, the only door not decorated with scuff marks from people's shoes.
Ari was waiting to open the door with a wide smirk. “TIGER!” She purred, pulling me inside the dimly lit warm space and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I heard you have a daaaaattteeee.”
Quinn's apartment was always in some state of chaos. Shoes were tossed around, blankets hung off of every soft surface and her makeup and hair supplies were scattered around her place like hidden gems. She liked it this way, liked the way it made things feel crowded and lived in. Having grown up with nothing Quinn collected things and held them close like a slutty magpie.
The warm lights from her lamps lit up the living space, where it appeared I'd interrupted a dinner date. Quinn emerged from her bedroom to the left and helped peel Ari off me with a loving look and teasing in her eyes. “It's not a big deal remember?”
“Oh yeah,” Ari giggled. “Just two friends hanging out late into the night.”
“You two are the worst,” I grumbled, setting the bottle down on Quinn's counter. “So, any good choices?”
With an offended look, Quinn waved me into her bedroom. “As if you need to ask.”
Ari looked at the bottle with wide eyes and a huge grin. “Thief!” She gasped. “I love you!”
“Don't open it,” I called out to her. “If there's any left tomorrow I'll bring it up to you guys.”
Quinn's eyes widened and she practically vibrated as she hopped onto her bed among the outfits she'd pulled from her closet. “Is this gonna be an overnight date?”
“Maybe,” I answered, trying not to let my excitement or my terror change my voice.
“Oh my god, are you gonna let him take your V card?”
I nudged her leg, almost sending her off the bed. “My V card's been gone for a while Q.”
She shook her head. “It's been over a year since that cards gotten punched in. It counts.”
“Outfits,” I sighed, changing the subject.
“Well now that I know it's a slumber party,” she rummaged through her pile of clothes and pulled out a little black dress. “This is what you're wearing.”
“I don't get to try anything else on?”
“Nope!”
With a groan, I grabbed the dress from out of her hands and stomped out of her room towards the bathroom. “Why did I even ask for your help?”
“Because I'm the best!” Was her loudly overjoyed reply.
Once I'd closed myself into the small bathroom with old checkered floor tiling and the tiny pink sink I looked at the dress she'd chosen. It wasn't ugly or too gaudy. It was simple, black silk with a modest hem of lace around the top and bottom. The spaghetti straps were thin, but I was just thankful there were straps at all… Or a dress at all for that matter.
I took my time sliding it on, stuffing my bra and other clothes under the sink until I could come back and get them. In Quinn's mirror, I fluffed my hair and fixed my makeup, trying to focus on the excited feeling in my chest instead of the anxious ball in my stomach. This isn't a big deal. It's just Jake.
Just Jake… As if that had ever been true.
Unveiling the dress to Quinn and Ari resulted in the two catcalling me for five minutes. “God damn!”
“It's about time you let those girls out to play again!” Ari laughed, looking at my boobs. “No bra too? Jakey's a lucky boy tonight!”
“I'm leaving my clothes under your sink,” I told Quinn as I gathered my things and grabbed the bottle off the counter. “Thanks for the dress!”
“No problem! Have fun being a slut tonight!”
Flipping her off I left the apartment, trying to calm my nerves with each step forward. It wasn't a big deal. It was just Jake. This was just a date.
*
Jake had spent a solid ten minutes meticulously opening and cleaning each of the oysters he'd grabbed from the kitchen. He'd found a niceish plate to put them on and shooed his cat off the counter. Then he'd started truly freaking out.
Lena was on her way with whatever bottle she'd grabbed. They'd drink, eat, and then the inevitable would happen. They’d share a look. He'd touch her or she'd touch him and from there they'd be unable to stop themselves from checking off their list of rainchecks all in one go.
He turned on a movie, the first movie his hands could find, and he cleaned. It wasn't really an effective way to keep his mind off the possibilities that were at this point all but certainties, but he still did it. Maybe it was, to keep his hands busy or maybe he just felt self-conscious about Lena returning to his space.
By the time she knocked on his door, everything was clean and ready. Everything except for him. Do we continue our game? He asked himself, hand hovering over the doorknob. Would that make things easier or would that just make me seem like an asshole?
Opening the door he came face to face with her fluffy red hair and tempting lips and… Fucking hell. The little black dress she wore hugged her body in all the right places, showing off her lean shoulders and peaked nipples. He hadn't expected her to change. Lena smiled, that nervous smile that made the corners of her lips twitch and held up the bottle. “I hope you like champagne.”
Say something. Anything. And say something he did. “You're late.”
Asshole it is I guess.
Thankfully Lena just rolled her eyes and leaned against his doorframe. “Aw, did I keep you waiting?”
“A little,” he said, clearing his throat as he moved to let her in. “It’s been a damn chore keeping this cat off the oysters.”
As if Jake had bribed him to, Hemingway made a not-so-sneaky break for the plate on the counter. Jake jumped, intercepting him just in time. The cat hissed and angrily swatted Jake's arms as he carried him to the sofa. From his kitchen, Lena laughed. “I'm sorry. If I'd have known you were in a heated standoff with the cat I would have hurried.”
He shrugged his shoulders, casually making his way back to the kitchen. “So, champagne?”
“One of the more expensive bottles of it,” she promised, handing the bottle to him for inspection.
Jake barely looked at it, focusing more on her. She looked nervous, but the good kind. The kind that told him she was comfortable being here on this date with him. That was all he could ask for - all he wanted. He'd only take the night as far as she was comfortable with, but judging by the look in her eyes Jake was confident she wanted things to go the same way he did.
So, he grabbed a pair of his shitty glasses from the cupboard and started to open the bottle. She arched her brow. “Not even gonna look at it?”
“I trust your taste in drinks.”
“Even after I gave you nothing but shitty ones that one night?”
Jake chuckled, popping the cork and nodding at her. “Even after that.” He poured her a glass and slid the plate of oysters between them. “So, how’s Quinn?”
Lena blushed, glancing down at her dress. “Was it that obvious?”
“Mhm,” he replied. “I've seen Quinn dress you up enough times to recognize her work.”
“Well, what do you think?” She asked, taking a step back and raising her arms to give him a full view of her.
What did he think? As if she didn't already know every single thought ran through his head. Jake could have voiced any of the lewd things - god knew he'd done that thousands of times before - but instead he found himself answering more sincerely, “I think you look perfect.”
*
My question had been simple, given how well I knew Jake and how his dirty mind worked. It was simple. Ask an obvious question about the very sultry dress Quinn had given me and received an equally obvious dirty response. Simple. Casual. And not at all what Jake said.
“I think you look perfect.”
Perfect. That wasn't a word I was used to hearing, especially when it came to me. Yet this would mark - at least - the second time Jake had used it. Butterflies filled my stomach, filling me with that fuzzy feeling of warm tingles. If it had been anyone else using that word I would have known exactly how to respond. Bullshit. But, I knew he meant it. The look in his eyes, the hint of a real smile, the way he looked just as surprised as I did.
Jake thought I looked perfect.
“So, how do you like your new TV?” I asked turning my now blushing face away from him to look at the bright screen where Egon and the rest of the Ghostbusters were quietly playing out their scenes. My face burned even hotter as I remembered Halloween… Remembered how good Jake had looked dressed as Egon. Maybe he still has that costume? “Ghostbusters?”
“It's a good movie,” he defended, but the wicked gleam in his eye told me he was thinking the same as me.
Smirking, I shrugged. “Woulda thought you'd turn on Romeo and Juliet.”
With a smirk, Jake nodded, “Also a good movie.”
I used the heated tension humming between us as an opportunity to take the first oyster. The salty taste washed over my tongue as I examined the slightly shiny shell in my hand. “So, what's your plan, pretty boy?”
“Am I supposed to have a plan?” He asked with a chuckle.
“I mean I'd think so, after your very confident invitation at work.”
Jake shrugged, taking a moment to enjoy an oyster. “Honestly, I just wanted to be around you.”
“You couldn't be around me at Ozzy's?”
“Okay… I wanted to be around you alone. That better?”
I hummed, beaming at his admission. “Yep.”
He rolled his eyes, casually pushing the plate out of Hemingway's reach. “Don't sound so smug, princess. You were dying to come be alone with me.”
“Hardly!” I argued - lied.
Jake stepped around the counter, placing his body flush up against my own and giving me that look. “Hardly? So you don't want me to do this?”
His fingers skimmed up my exposed thigh, dragging the lace hem of the dress up. I gulped, my eyes shifting to his lips without a second thought. “I want you to do whatever you wanna do.”
“Oh, come on, princess. You can do better than that.”
Fuck it. “I… want you… To kiss me.”
He lifted his hand, fingers grazing the side of my neck as he carefully tilted my head up even more. Our lips brushed against each other, a sigh of anticipation hot on our mingled breaths, and then… Darkness.
The lights cut out, casting Jake and me in complete darkness. Outside horns honked and the chaos told us both that the block - hell maybe even the city, had just shared our experience. Jake’s hands drifted to my shoulders, holding onto me for a moment as he adjusted to the dark. “Of fucking course.”
I swallowed my disappointment and forced a chuckle out of my dry throat. “Don’t suppose you've got any candles on hand?”
“I think I have a few,” he answered. “Let me get a lighter or something.”
Jake stumbled around in the dark until he reached his jacket, pulling the cigarettes and lighter out. The flame did little to light the room, but after a minute of searching his bare cupboards, he found what little he had in candles. I could see the tension in his shoulders almost as clearly as the sour purse of his lips. “Hopefully it's not the whole city.”
“Yeah.” He answered through clenched teeth as handed me the lighter. “I'm gonna go see if anyone outside knows what's going on.”
“Okay,” I replied, watching him go. “I'll light these I guess.”
I stared into the flame as I held the lighter to the wick of the candle and let out a defeated sigh. It's always something. Betting lesbians, a money-hungry Russian, the past, the future… Maybe it was a sign. Maybe the universe in its infinite wisdom was trying to tell us we weren't good together.
The wax dripped over the edge of the candle as I held the light to it. “Bullshit.”
Fuck the universe, I decided. Fuck the past or the future. Fuck everything that tries to tell me what I want.
I wanted Jake. Physically, romantically, in any and every way that he would have me. I wanted him. And tonight was going to be the night whether the city or the universe liked it or not.
I carefully lit the remaining candles, illuminating his apartment just enough to see the outline of his furniture. As I set the last down on the counter I leaned over to give Hemingway a reassuring pat, all the while trying to hold onto the newfound courage making my stomach twist into knots. “It's alright.”
The cat seemed to release some of his tension, using my distracted state to snag an oyster and take shelter in the bathroom where he decided to hide in Jake's open laundry bin. As I quietly chuckled at the way the tips of his ears poked out of the top, and the ferocious noises he made dining on his stolen meal, the apartment door opened and slammed shut as Jake returned. With a silent curse, he threw his jacket and shoes off to the side. “Well, nobody knows shit, but everyone's expecting the power to be out for the rest of the night at least.”
“Damn,” I remarked, trying not to talk myself out of taking action. “Right when your plan was just starting to work.”
It was a flirtatious little taunt, wholeheartedly meant to shift Jake’s focus from the unexpected interruption and back to the fact that we'd been on the verge of a kiss when the lights went out. Sadly, that didn't happen. Instead, Jake continued to grumble, scouring his shelf for a pack of cigarettes and then his lighter, which I still held. “Damn, where the fuck did it go?”
I watched him search for a minute before holding up the object he sought with a smug smirk. “Looking for this?”
He turned to look at me, face set in a grumpy scowl as he lifted the candle off the coffee table and held the flame to the end of his cigarette, lighting it. “Nope.”
“Suit yourself,” I replied, bothered as I set the lighter down on the counter. “Now what?”
Flopping down on his couch Jake laughed humorlessly. “I don't have any board games we can play if that's what you're hoping for.”
“I’m sure we can think of something more interesting to do than play a board game.” Hint. Hint.
Jake rolled his eyes gesturing to the darkened apartment. “You're welcome to look around for something to do.”
DO ME! I wanted to shout at him. My eyes scanned the shelves, looking for something that could lighten Jake's pissy mood and somehow salvage the night. “Where's your camera?” I asked. “We could take some more pictures.”
“In case you didn't notice, we don't exactly have the best lighting for that,” he snarkily replied.
“So you wanna just sit in the dark and do nothing?”
“I'm doing something,” he answered, lifting up his cigarette.
“Well, maybe I wanna do more than sit and smoke.” Jake ignored my statement, staring at the wall in front of him with a bitter, disappointed look on his face. “Really? You gonna ignore me now?”
He glanced at me and shrugged. “You're more than welcome to find something to do.”
Idiot. After a moment of watching the angry puffs of smoke exhale from his lungs I pushed myself away from the counter and flopped down on the couch beside him with a frustrated sigh. Jake's eyes lowered to watch my boobs bounce with the movement. Of course, that'd be what cheers him up. “You know most people would be more concerned with entertaining their guests.”
It was like a light finally flicked on in his brain and with a suggestive raise of his brows and a not at all subtle smirk, Jake and I were back on the same page. Only now I felt like making him work for it.
"Oh, you want some attention?" He took another long drag of the cigarette, slowly sliding closer to me, closing the space between us. He was right there, just a head tilt away from my lips. He timed his head down, seeking me out, expecting me to make it easy.
“You're insufferable." I leaned back, crossing my arms - pressing my breasts up to really catch his attention. He breathed smoke out across my face with a light laugh and a smirk.
"You like it," he whispered, our noses bumping one another.
"This isn't something friends usually do," I said quietly, smugly. Resuming the game we had earlier, the game meant to make this easier, and now the game that I'd use to torture him.
Jake was more smug as he grinned back at me, his eyes dark with lust and sin that would put even the devil to shame. "Yeah, well, I don't want to be your fucking friend." For a split second that something real flashed in his eyes, a fleeting feeling or thought he didn't dare let himself hold onto for too long.
I sighed, that same wave of reality washing over me, forcing my heart to beat quicker and my mind to race with doubt. Moving my head back a little more I whispered the thought, the fear that had kept us from committing to this all along, "This is a bad idea."
He nodded, not in agreement, but in acknowledgment that this was the very fear he shared. Adam's apple bobbing, Jake's eyes dropped to my lips as he sighed, "One of my worst."
I wasn't prepared for the kiss, or the way his hand wound into my hair to pull me closer. Though, I should have been. Jake tasted like oysters and champagne, smoke and, and want. He pulled me effortlessly into his lap, coaxing my mouth open and tangling his tongue with mine to effectively silence that pesky thought in both our minds. He was addictive and he knew it. Smug bastard, he was.
Of all the times we'd kissed, this one felt the most like our first. Maybe it was because of the way he'd been acting like he had in the beginning, asshole-ish and reserved. Or maybe it was because we both knew this was it. There was no forgotten thing, no drunk Russian or nosey lesbians. It was just us.
This was it.
I pulled back slightly, my hand smoothing over his jaw as we both dropped the act and slowly started to abandon our fear in favor of that intimate thing that hummed between us. Still, I couldn't resist the taunt that slid off my tongue, "So, you don't want to be my friend anymore?"
Jake scoffed, pressing another kiss to my lips. "Stop talking."
"I thought you liked being my friend," I continued to tease, threading my fingers into his hair as his mouth moved down the column of my neck. I had to hold in a moan as his teeth tugged at the skin there.
"I like this better," he breathed out, smirking against my skin. His hands gripped my thighs and pulled me down further, rubbing our hips together in a way that sent pleasure up my spine. This time I couldn't contain the wanton moan. Jake chuckled. "Much better."
With a breathless huff, I pulled his hair until his head tilted back up to me. "Shut up."
“Oh,” he whispered breathlessly, lips pulling up into that cocky smirk of his. “Now you wanna stop talking?”
Before I could answer Jake had shifted, rolling me onto the couch beneath him. The new cushions were slow to yield to the weight of us, stiff but not uncomfortable. Above me, Jake's chain necklace dangled, glinting in the low moonlight as it kissed my lips just like he'd done seconds ago. He smirked down at me for a second before all the attitude and the teasing faded, leaving him just smiling down at me as he lifted a hand to my face.
His fingers traced my lips, gliding along my jaw. The swell of warmth… Of want made my chest constrict almost to the point of pain. Out of all the nights we’d spent together - out of all the things we'd already done - this moment was unlike all of them. I wanted him more than I could even understand and in some way… Through some invisible bond between us, I knew he felt the same.
I lifted my head off the cushion and chased his lips. “I wanna stop talking now.”
Jake's still smokey breath fanned across my face as he chuckled. “Okay, Princess. No more talking.”
Our mouths met again, eager and hungry. It was like the feeling of his velvety lips on me, of his hands stroking and squeezing, erasing every thought in my brain. Everything that wasn't him just suddenly didn't matter. Jake dragged his tongue down my neck, fingers tugging the straps of the dress off my shoulders so his lips and teeth could literally my collarbones with kisses and bite marks.
To my surprise he kept moving down lower and lower until his hands were tucked up my dress, pulling my panties off my legs. Jake bit into the meat of my thigh, dragging me down the couch until my ass was literally in his hands. I lifted my head just in time to catch a glimpse of his dark head of hair vanishing beneath my dress as he dove mouth-first into my pussy.
“Oh my god!” I squeezed in shock as his warm tongue lather over my clit. “Jake!”
His fingers squeezing my thighs and holding them open was the only answer I received as his tongue continued its skilled work. With my head pressed firmly to the cushions, I gripped onto his hair, lifting my hips in time with his tongue movements and chasing the pleasure he so shamelessly offered. “Yes! Oh, Jake, right there!”
His teeth grazed my clit, sending me spasming as I came. That didn't stop him though. Jake's tongue just kept licking and sucking, drinking up every ounce that I had to offer until I was practically vibrating beneath him. I pulled his hair harder, pushing him off me and quickly standing up. Before he could ask what I was doing I tugged at his shirt. “Take this off.”
The wicked grin he answered with glowed in the candlelight. “Not gonna say please?”
Reaching down I tugged on his chain, taunting him with an almost kiss. “Now.”
Humming Jake rose from his knees and lifted the shirt over his head, spreading his arms and lightly flexing. “Happy now?”
I raked my nails over his abdomen, instantly undoing his belt as Jake's hands started sliding my arms through the straps of my dress. “I'll be much happier when we're both naked.”
“That makes two of us,” he agreed with a groan as the dress slid off my body with no resistance. Jake's mouth fell open as he lifted his lands to tease my nipples. “God you're perfect.”
My fingers fumbled, head nearly falling back as the pleasure his touch brought spiked through me. “Jake.”
His body pressed closer to mine, forcing me to step back until the backs of my legs hit his bed. “Are you sur-”
I silenced him with a finger over the lips and a gentle reminder, “No more talking.”
Without any more chances to let my fear win out, I finished with his belt and zipper. Kissing down his chest I slowly sank to my knees, taking his pants and underwear with me until his hard, pulsing cock was dangling in front of me. Jake watched me press a few light kisses to the head of him as he carefully lifted his feet out of his jeans. His breaths stuttered as I licked him base to tip, swirling my tongue around him the way I knew he liked from the first time.
“Fuck,” he breathed, quickly taking hold of my face. “As much as I fucking love that mouth of yours princess… I wanna actually fuck you tonight.”
I grinned, kissing his cock again. “Later then?”
“Absolutely.”
Standing in front of him, I set my hands on his broad shoulders, leaning up to kiss him again. Jake's hands wound into my hair as he turned us, pulling me on top of him as he settled on his back. I shifted my hips and angled his cock perfectly allowing me to finally, slowly begin to sink down on top of him. Jake's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth falling open as a surprised, pleasured sound fell from between his lips. His hands scrambled over my waist, squeezing my flesh. “Fuck.”
The stretch wasn't painful, not after the care Jake had taken, but I found myself shaking. It felt so good. Finally having him inside me, the impressive dick his ego permitted me from ever complimenting, hit all the right spots. It'd been a year since I'd had sex, but already, I found myself questioning if anyone else had ever made me feel like this with nothing more than one tiny thrust.
Once I was fully seated on top of him I found my eyes closing, head tilting back as I enjoyed the simple feeling of him twitching inside me, breathing beneath me, holding me. “Holy shit.”
“You're not wasting any time,” he said, holding onto me like his life depended on it. “Got somewhere to be?”
“You said you wanted to fuck me,” I replied, ignoring his teasing to lift my hips and bending over him. “So fuck me.”
Jake kissed me hard, setting one hand on the small of my back and using it to push me back down onto his dick. My sharp gasp broke our kiss and spurred my body into moving. Every thrust sent pure pleasure radiating through my body. Every noise Jake made was echoed by the ones I made. It was that word he'd kept saying. Perfect.
When my legs started to shake and my body felt heavier to lift in the fervorous up and down movements, Jake sat up. His tongue lathered over a nipple, earning another sharp sound from my throat, as his fingers traced up my spine and gently closed around the back of my neck. I could feel his lips curl up into a smirk as he pulled my nipple between his teeth. “Come on, princess. Don't stop.”
“Fuck,” I whispered, the desperate sound of his voice emptying my brain even more. “I… Oh god…”
“Don't tell me you're tired already,” he taunted, using his hands on my hip and neck to help lift and pull me. “We just got started.”
Grinding my teeth together to hold in the moan I bit back, “I should have guessed you'd be a pillow princess.”
Jake laughed, tilting his head up to kiss me again. “We can switch if you want.”
“Fuck you,” I answered breathlessly, my eyes punching together as the pleasure all began to build up inside me.
“That's what you're doing… Trying to at least.” He withdrew all attempts at helping me, returning his attention to my breasts.
“Jake,” I whined after what felt like hours. God, I'm out of Practice. Jake only hummed in reply to his name. “Please.”
More smug than ever he finally slid his hands to my waist and expertly flipped me onto my back. His sheets felt cold against my hot skin, but I hardly had a moment to focus on that when Jake wasted no time lifting one of my legs onto his shoulder and securing the other around his waist. “Try not to scream my name too loud, the neighbors tend to get mad about that.”
“You-” He thrust into me, the angle and the power behind it making sparks shoot up my stomach into my chest. “Oh fuck!”
“There you go,” he mumbled, fingers curling into the sheets by my head. “Let me hear those pretty noises.”
As he picked up the pace I realized I couldn't have denied his request even if I wanted to. Every noise I made echoed off the brick walls, every wet noise that his thrusts made only filled me with more fire. My fingers dug into his arms and clawed at his back as that coil in my gut wound tighter and tighter. “Jake,” I begged. “Don't stop!”
“Come on, princess,” he urged, pressing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss. “I wanna feel you.”
“Ah!” I could feel myself tighten around him, drawing out another moan from Jake's lips.
“Fuck!” He cursed under his breath. “That's my girl. Come on… Come for me, Lena.”
That, the fucked out, desperate, adoring uttering of my name was what made the coil in my gut burst. Fingers digging into Jake's hair, pulling his lips down against mine I came around him, shaking as he thrust again and again and again, fucking me through the orgasm and into another as he came with me. His body tensed and shivered as he kissed me through his orgasm, pulling away to let out a shaky breath before he collapsed on top of me.
My chest heaved beneath him as I stretched my fingers and carefully pulled them from his hair. “Holy… Shit…”
Jake carefully rolled off me, throwing the condom away and collapsing next to me. “We should have been doing that this whole time.”
“Definitely,” I agreed, twisting my head to look at him… Afraid of what I'd find in his eyes when I did. Had this been a mistake?
Jake was smiling, genuinely smiling at me. His eyes were light and sparkling as he pulled me into his arms and threw his blanket over us both. His lips kissed my shoulders and my jaw and even though we’d just spent the last hour or more fucking I felt that swell of want again. “You know, we could be in the dark for a while.”
“All night even,” he agreed. “You should definitely stay the night.”
“Absolutely,” I agreed, kissing his lips. “And are you gonna… Entertain me?”
Nodding Jake traced the snake on my spine. “Of course. What kinda man would I be if I left you unsatisfied?”
It was going to be a long night. Long and sweaty and perfect.
*
Dom looked at the now entirely empty shop with a dead stare. His life's work was fucking gone, and it was all his fault. Desperate anger and a bitter, frustrated sorrow filled his lungs with a scream. He threw empty tool carts across the shop floor and kicked the side of the nearest car. Dom exploded, lashing out until he had to stop.
His back slammed into one of the cars, and he bowed low. Defeated. The sound of her light footsteps treading through his mess gave him some tiny hint of hope. He watched her carefully slide into place beside him, looking out at the empty space. "Sorry."
"Stop." He shook his head, glaring at her. "I hate it when you apologize when you did nothin’ wrong."
Sarah giggled, bumping her shoulder into his. "Sorry."
"You're the worst."
She looked around with an exasperated sigh. "They really did a number on the place, huh?"
Nodding, he slapped the side of the car they leaned on. "Fuckers even took the damn hub caps."
"You are gonna take care of this, right, D?" Her emerald eyes sparkled up at him, hopeful and innocent. His baby sister. "I don't wanna lose you like Eddie."
His jaw clenched at the mention of the name. "Yeah, I'll take care of it."
She held out her pinky with tears in her eyes. "You promise?"
Dom wrapped his finger around hers and sighed, engulfing her in a big hug. "Yeah, I promise."
When he opened his eyes, Dom could still feel the warmth of Sarah's embrace. His mind clung to the sweet moments they'd shared until the end - until the pain made him feel like he couldn't breathe. That sensation forced him upright, scrambling to grab hold of the drugs he'd left at his bedside. He wanted to forget. More than anything, he wanted the pain to stop.
Green eyes flashed in his mind. Hers and Lena's. He'd made them both a promise… A stupid fucking pinky swear. His fist tightened around the drugs as he forced himself to throw them across the room. "God dammit!"
"Well, ain't you just pathetic?”
Dom's head twisted to the door where Eddie lounged against the old frame. “The fuck are you doin here?”
Eddie shrugged, a heavy sigh following him as he sat in the cot opposite his. “It's her birthday today… Figured that's the kinda thing that warrants a temporary truce. We're family after all.”
“You're no family of mine,” he ground out.
Dom could see the hurt in Eddie's eyes, but as always he erased it with that goddamn smirk. “Feelings mutual, big brother. But, I ain't here for you. I'm here 'cause it's what she woulda wanted.”
“She doesn't get to want anything,” Dom said. “Not anymore.”
Eddie nodded, tensely. “Well, we both seem to have conflicting opinions about whose fault that is.”
“Get the fuck out!” Dom shouted, throwing himself to his feet to grab onto Eddie's jacket and throw him out the door. “You get the fuck out before I fucking kill you!”
“Oh, we both know how much you'd like that,” Eddie spat back, laughing in Dom's face. “Sibling killer that you are.”
It took four of his bikers to hold him back while Eddie waved off his men and left with a bitter curse in Spanish. After the noise of their car had gone, the bikers let him go and Dom was out the door. He needed some air. He needed some space away from this fucking warehouse… This fucking city.
There, illuminated in the golden rays of the rising sun, Mav sat on his bike, resting her head in her hands with a wide - real smile. Dom shook his head, forcing out the angry breath he'd been holding. “It's shit like this that makes everyone think you're a bitch.”
She just shrugged, that smile never faltering. “That a no to taking a joyride?”
“I could never say no to you.”
“It's one of the few things I like about you,” she teased, sitting up as he neared. The flippant, uncaring attitude fell for a moment as she asked, “You okay?”
Dom shook his head and answered with the truth, “No.”
Sliding back on the bike seat she patted the fine leather. “Come on then, big boy. Let's go for a ride.”
“Course, Mrs…. What is it now? Scott?”
Mav rolled her eyes. “As if I'd take that old fucks last name.”
With a chuckle, he smiled at her. “That's my Mav.”
“I'm not your anything,” she argued half-heartedly.
Dom threw his leg over the seat and settled in with her sweet smell and soft hands around his waist. He revved the engine and Mav's arms squeezed him tighter. “You'll always be my Mav.”
“Just drive the damn bike, Dom.”
“Yes, Ma'am.”
#fic: nightshade#sweetbitter jake#jake sweetbitter#sweetbitter#sweetbitter jake x oc#jake x lena#sweetbitter fanfiction#sweetbitter fic#sweetbitter tv series#sweetbitter simone#tom sturridge#jake/oc#jake and lena#jake x oc#jake smut#sweetbitter smut#sweetbitter ocs#sweetbitter sasha#sweetbitter ari#sweetbitter heather#sweetbitter nicky#sweetbitter howard
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The Road ahead - ch 4 | Frankie Morales x female reader
Series Masterlist
Previous Chapter
For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.
But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.
Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)
Word Count: 5.5K
Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty
Chapter Summary: A long overdue confrontation takes place where you have to face Frankie's lies.
Notes: Hello again everyone! Oh my God, I am so excited about this brand-new, shiny chapter!! That entire interaction was what brought me to imagine this fic in the first place. I hope you all like as much as I had fun writing it (I am a big slut for angst so beware). Thank you again for the support and let me know what you all think <3 <3 <3
Letting Go
Letter #1
August 19th, 2008
To the prettiest girl at the bar,
Hey there... So, before I go any further, I need to apologize for making my getaway from your place that morning in such a rush. I had to be on base at 0530, and I didn't want to disturb your sleep. Seriously, you looked so peaceful in that cozy bed of yours. If I had any type of artistic talent, I would've painted a masterpiece to capture that moment. I mean, I'm no Picasso or anything, but just imagine the most breathtaking sight you can ever imagine and that's exactly how you looked that morning.
I really hope I'm not coming across as strange or anything by reaching out to you like this. You see, as I was making my exit, I happened to glimpse your address on one of those letters sitting on your kitchen counter. And one of the perks of being an army pilot (aside from flying, of course), is that I tend to have a decent memory and your address stuck with me long enough to scribble it down later at base. Please, please don't get the wrong idea here! I know it might sound a bit, um, stalker-ish, but I promise you, that's not what's going on in the slightest.
I got to admit, I'm feeling a little shy about writing this letter. Swear to you, I've never done anything like this before! It isn’t some cheesy move that army dudes pull to charm the ladies (well, maybe some do), but I promise you, that isn’t my intention at all! I'm afraid I might be rambling here, and the more I go on, the more I feel like I'm messing this up!
To be honest, I didn't know what to do with your address. But it kept catching my eye every morning when I rolled out of bed and right before I hit the hay. The time we spent together just kept playing on a loop in my mind. And you? You've been sticking to my thoughts like glue.
That night we had; it was like sparks ignited in my head. I couldn't let it slip away without taking a shot, without letting you know how I’ve been feeling these past two weeks since that night.
I guess it's kind of unconventional, reaching out to you like this with a letter. But something inside me just wants to explore if there's something even more special that could sprout between us. I can't get your smile out of my head, or the perfect way we connected. It’s never happened to me before. It's like fate brought us together that night. Like our souls were destined to weave together. You’re always on my mind, and I'm aching to learn more about the beautiful soul that's stolen my heart.
So here I am at 3 am in my bunk, writing this letter while holding my breath and hoping you're open to taking a leap with me.
I'll be here, waiting for your reply. But please, know this: if what I felt, that connection I think we shared, doesn't resonate with you, there's no need to feel bad. I don't want you to feel obligated or burdened by any expectations.
Our time together was a precious moment, one that I hold dear and will hold dear forever. And if our hearts don't align in the same way, I understand. We all navigate our own paths, and sometimes they lead us in different directions.
Please, don't feel guilty if you choose not to respond. Our connection, albeit short, was a gift. I cherish the memories we created, and I will hold onto the possibility of what could have been with a grateful heart.
Wishing you nothing but happiness and fulfillment,
The terrible wingman from the bar,
(Francisco Morales)
Letter # 2
September 2nd, 2008.
Dear Francisco,
Your letter was a real shock, to say the least. I woke up the morning you left feeling so empty without you there. I combed through the entire house hoping to find a clue, maybe you had scribbled down your number somewhere. I must have deep-cleaned my apartment twice in the hope of finding a scrap of paper with your name on it. At some point, I thought it might have been a dream, that I had imagined that amazing, gorgeous, and generous man with whom I spent the night. I was sure I was crazy and then, out of nowhere, your letter came. It made me question whether you enjoy giving ladies emotional scares. I’ve barely known you for a full day and it already feels like being on a rollercoaster ride. Is this what life is for you Francisco? The helicopter pilot, always seeking a new high?
I want you to know that there's no need for you to worry. The connection we experienced that night has also stayed with me, occupying my thoughts ever since. It's as if the memory of our time together has become an integral part of myself, refusing to fade away. Your letter touched me in a way that no one else ever has. It was the most romantic and adorable gesture anyone has ever done for me.
I must confess, I feel deeply flattered by the lengths you've gone to express your feelings for me. It's not something you encounter every day—a man putting so much effort into writing a letter to a girl he spent just one night with. And while I cannot deny that such attention could have easily ventured into the realm of being slightly creepy, there is something inexplicable about your gestures that managed to bypass any unease within me.
I can't help but wonder what that means for you and me. Maybe, just as you said, it was fate that brought us together that night.
Francisco, now that you've opened the door to your world, I don’t intend to shut it close. My desire to know you better has blossomed into something more profound. I yearn to uncover the layers of your being and to understand the depths of your passions, dreams, and weaknesses.
Every time I close my eyes, the memory of your hands caressing my skin resurfaces, leaving an indelible mark on my senses. It's as if your touch awakened a dormant part of me, igniting a fire that I never knew existed. I find myself longing for the warmth of your embrace, the tenderness in your eyes, and the sound of your laughter that brought music to my ears.
But, Francisco, I also want to be honest with you. Your sudden disappearance left me confused and uncertain. I need reassurance that you are equally invested in seeing where this might go. I need to know that you won't disappear again without a trace. My parents fought constantly when I was a child. So for me, communication is essential, and I believe that openness and honesty are paramount to laying strong foundations for whatever this might become.
If those terms are agreeable, I will wait for your letter impatiently. In the meanwhile, please take care and make sure to prioritize your safety and try to avoid taking unnecessary risks for me. I can't help but worry about you, and I want nothing more than for you to stay out of harm's way as much as possible.
Warmly
The girl from the bar
Letter # 17
April 19, 2009.
Hola preciosa,
Once again, last night you appeared in my dreams, as you so often do. But this time, it felt unbelievably real, like a distant yet familiar memory that I couldn't quite grasp. We were together at your place, surrounded by warmth and coziness while raindrops fell outside. It was just the two of us, lost in our own little world, wrapped in the comfort of each other's presence. Although the exact details escape me, I vividly remember the way you touched me, as if your fingers left an indelible mark on my skin. If given the chance, I would choose to spend my last moments in your arms, savouring the most beautiful thing of all—your love.
Those mere four days we spent together back in January were nothing short of a cruel tease. It's as if every time I lay my eyes on you, my love for you sprouts like an overenthusiastic weed, making it increasingly excruciating to bid you farewell each time. I'm still amazed at how I managed to be only fifteen minutes late for base that day. Let's just say those extra rounds of push-ups were a small sacrifice in exchange for the extra pleasure of your company.
As I write this, Benny has decided it's the perfect time to hover behind me, boasting about his self-proclaimed status as the brilliant mastermind behind us. Can you believe him? As if his presence that night we met magically transformed him into a love guru. Anyway, Benny says hello, as do Will and Santi, although you haven't met them yet. I truly hope that the next time we all have time off from base, you'll have the chance to meet them. Those guys are like brothers to me, and I really want you to get to know them. I'm certain they'll like you as much as I cherish you.
I know that until now, we've kept our personal lives somewhat separate, with your work at the library, your family, and your friends, and the same goes for me. But now, I want you to be an integral part of my life, a constant presence. Even when I'm away, I want to know that I am yours and you are mine. You know, I've been doing a lot of thinking since January (Yes it happens often before you say anything), and I've come to realize that I can no longer imagine my life without you by my side. When I think about the future, I see you right there beside me. But if I try to imagine a life without you, it feels incredibly dark, and I feel like everything would lose its meaning.
I know this might sound completely insane. I know people would say that we haven't been seeing each other long enough for these kinds of declarations. But Hermosa, when you know, you know.
When I return from base, all I want is to hold you in my arms until they fall off. I want to be able to hold your hand as we stroll through town, and I want to shout from rooftops that you are mine! Even now, when I look at the picture you gave me, it fills me with a warm feeling that envelops my entire body, and I can't help but proudly show your picture to everyone, telling them how lucky I am that a girl like you would even remotely look at someone like me. You inspire me to be a better person, my lovely one. Everything feels worthwhile with you. I can't imagine a world where we're not together, and I want to think about you every single day for the rest of my life.
My dearest love, you are the sky that stretches above me. Just as the sun illuminates the world on bright days, you radiate warmth and light, filling my heart with boundless joy. When clouds gather and cast their shadows, it is you who transforms the room, turning even the gloomiest moments into something serene and comforting. I know that together we can weather any storms that may come our way.
My love, until Uncle Sam lets us be together again, I will keep on finding my comfort in those four days we shared in January. Those precious moments have woven themselves deep into my heart, and they hold a special place that no distance could ever diminish. I cannot wait to be home with you and create new memories to intertwine with them.
Please take care and know that I love you a little bit more every day.
Yours forever,
Frankie
Letter # 18
April 25th 2009
My sweet Frankie,
Your letter moved me to tears when I first read it. After I put it down, I picked it up again and found myself crying even more. I was afraid that I was the only one experiencing such intense emotions. I worried that perhaps you were more interested in a casual connection and that we might not be fully aligned in our desires for each other and our relationship. However, I'm relieved to discover that I'm not alone in feeling this deeply. Thoughts of you consume my mind constantly, and those days we spent together in January remain some of the most incredible moments of my entire life.
Frankie, I believe you complete me. You fill that void within me that I've always sensed, like finding the perfect missing puzzle piece to finish a picture. You are that missing piece, and since meeting you, my life has finally felt whole.
I couldn't care less about what others may say or think about us, Frankie. You are everything to me, and I want to shout it from my windows so that the whole world can hear. And if anyone wants to say that it's moving too quickly, then to hell with all of them! Every day, I find myself yearning for your presence beside me. I come across little things that remind me of you, and it makes me wish you were here with me. For instance, just yesterday at work, I was going through the donation bin and I stumbled on a children's book about helicopters. It instantly painted a picture in my mind of a little Frankie flipping through the colourful pages, and it filled me with so much warmth and affection.
Frankie, I also really want our lives to blend together. Meeting your friends would be amazing, and I hope you'll get to know mine too. I already had a great time with Benny, so I'm sure your other friends are just as awesome. Since I know how important they are to you, I'm genuinely excited about building bridges with them. I know it's uncertain when you'll be allowed off base or if there's a chance you might be sent far away from me. But maybe, just maybe, the next time you have some leave, we could start building this life together. Waiting any longer feels unbearable to me.
Until we can be together again, my dearest love, you will remain in my heart and appear in my dreams, bringing me some moments of respite while I wait for you. Despite the distance that separates us, my passion for you burns brightly and the flame of my love will keep burning ever bright regardless of the physical divide. With each passing day, I find myself yearning for the next time I will see you, but in the meantime, I will treasure the memories we have started to weave together. And I will find comfort in their warmth and hold onto the hope that our love will grow even stronger with every beat of our hearts.
Yours forever,
Letter # Too many to keep track of
June 12th, 2011
Mi cielo,
Do you remember that summer two years ago? Because I do. I had a two-week leave, and we went to the Miller's for a BBQ. You were wearing a beautiful blue dress that made you look like the sky on a clear summer day. God, you were so beautiful. We were having a great time when Benny told a stupid story that made you laugh so hard that your drink came out of your nose. I remember how embarrassed you got. But then you turned to me, and the embarrassment seemed to melt from your shoulder, and you couldn't stop laughing, your eyes were twinkling like the stars. It was such a beautiful sight and that's when I knew deep down that one day, I would marry you. You would be my wife, someone I would always hold, protect, and cherish until the end of time.
And today, my love, that day has arrived. You know how I struggle in front of a crowd, mi cielo. My words tend to stumble, and I find it challenging to maintain my voice. It's as if all the words jumble up in my throat, eager to escape all at once, resulting in a tangled mess of sentences. That's why I've chosen to write my vows to you in a letter, just like we've been exchanging since the day we first met. You once told me that you could see the truest version of me when I write to you, and I hope that on this special day, through this letter, I can make the side of me that can truly convey the depth of my love for you appear. Better than my spoken words ever could.
My beloved, from this day forward, I make you this lifelong promise. I promise to hold you close, to always offer comfort and support whenever you need it. You can count on me to be there, I will aim to be a steadfast presence in your life, like a rock you can always lean on. I will protect you and care for you for as long as live like a shield guarding against any storms that may come our way. No matter what challenges we face, I will be yours, never doubt that.
But mi cielo, my love for you goes beyond the grand moments that I hope will mark some of our journeys together. I vow to cherish you in the simple gestures also, where I think our love shines the brightest. Its with the gentle touch of our intertwined fingers, the way our laughter always seems to harmonize and in the unspoken understanding that always passes between us without the need for words.
As we walk side by side through the tapestry of life, I promise to be your faithful lover, always by your side, supporting you in every step you take. I will celebrate your victories with joy and stand with you during the challenges we encounter along the way. Together, we will continue to create a beautiful life that I cannot wait to keep on building with you
My beloved, today I pour forth these vows from the depths of my heart. They are not fleeting words but an enduring pledge, a testament to my unwavering love and devotion. As the days unfurl, my affection for you shall only deepen, like roots reaching ever further into the soil. I am filled with gratitude and blessed to call you my partner, my confidant, and my dearest friend.
Today I will say yes to forever with you and I know it will be the sweetest promise of all.
Te amaré siempre
Your Francisco
______________________________________________________________
"I want you to explain whatever the hell this is, Frankie. And no lies this time."
Frankie freezes. He cannot tear his eyes away from the 3 little baggies neatly placed in a row in front of you. Words get stuck in his throat as he tries to find something, anything to say to you.
"You've got nothing to say? Well, let me fill in the blanks for you, Frankie. I found one of these tucked away in your old boots, and the other one in your work drawer. I must admit, I'm still completely fucking baffled. How could you? How could you bring that into our home, Frankie? Especially when you're well aware of how absolutely unacceptable it is, especially with the baby."
Frankie looks around frantically, searching for an explanation. "How did you..."
"How did I find those? Well, I'm so glad you asked, Frankie." A surge of anger fuels your words as you take a step closer, your finger pointing accusatorily towards the door. "Let me shed some light on the precise moment when your little plan crumbled, right there in the car. The fucking car!!!" Your voice slices through the air, causing Frankie to wince.
"I had to learn from Benny and Will how you got back on cocaine! They slapped me in the face with the truth about your lies, how you’ve been deceiving me from the moment the plane touched the ground! How could you not tell me, Frankie? I thought we were doing well; you promised you would talk to me if things were getting hard!"
You take a deep breath, attempting to sort through the jumble of words clamouring to escape all at once. Emotions, accusations, fears, and disappointments vie to be hurled at Frankie.
"Well, let me tell you, hearing about how much your husband loves lying to you from Will and Benny was utter and complete shit! So, I thought I could let myself have a cigarette to help swallow that bitter pill. I knew you stashed some in the dashboard. But what did I find there? Not fucking cigarettes, Frankie! COKE? In the dashboard, really?! You've already had your damn piloting license revoked. Do you want to end up in jail on top of everything? Have you any clue what the cops would do if they caught you with this shit? Goddamn it, Frankie, how could you do this to me? How could you do this to Ella?"
Your voice quivers as you struggle to catch your breath. Years of bottled-up frustration and the pain of Frankie's betrayal finally overflow. Yet Frankie remains silent, avoiding your gaze and looking down at his own shoes in shame.
“FUCKING SAY SOMETHING” You roar as tears of anger start to fall down your face “You can’t just lie to me for weeks and hide cocaine in our home and not say anything!”
"Mi ciel..." Frankie softly starts, but you snap back, "Don't call me that, Frankie! You don’t have any right to call me that, especially not now!" The weight of your words hits Frankie, and his face fills with anguish.
"Please, you have to believe that I'm so damn sorry. I never meant for any of this. I wasn't going to take any of it, I fucking swear..." You scoff, cutting him off, "Oh, you swear? You've got cocaine in your goddamn boots, and you expect me to believe you weren't going to take any? Fuck, do you even have some on you now?" Swearing more than you’ve ever in your life, you realize you've unleashed a torrent of profanity that you can't seem to control. It's as if a dam has burst within you, and you're either unable or unwilling to stop it.
Frankie's silence hangs heavily in the air, his right-hand trembling with restless anxiety. A wave of numbing unease washes over you, and in a voice barely above a whisper, you manage to muster the words, "Frankie, do you have cocaine on you right now?" Frankie's hand, consumed by nerves, instinctively dives into his breast pocket, retrieving a small baggie. The tension in the room intensifies as he places it alongside the others on the table, its size and contents mirroring the rest.
Silence echoes in the room.
"Get out," you say with a stern voice.
"Wait, wait! I'm so damn sorry. I swear, I wasn't planning on touching any of it. It's just... knowing it's there, somehow it eases the pain that I can’t seem to get out of? But I promise you, I had no real intentions of actually using it. Please, please believe me!" Frankie pleads desperately, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and anguish.
"Are you even hearing the words coming out of your own mouth? Maybe you can fool yourself, but you can't fool me. Not anymore. If it was just me, maybe I could brush it off, but I won't let Estrella be exposed to that" you say unwaveringly, though deep inside, the pain of seeing Frankie's face twisted with anguish and devastation pierces your heart. "And let me be crystal clear, Frankie. I don't owe you a damn thing! You're the one who lied, the one who got lost in that haze, the one who chose drugs over your own damn family. Not me. Well, guess what Frankie? I've hit my breaking point."
"Hermosa, please, I'm begging you from the depths of my soul. I promise to change, to become a better person. I'll go to therapy, find a sponsor—whatever it takes to make things right. Please, don't do this to us," Frankie pleads desperately, his voice filled with pain and heartache as if every word is a cry for salvation. “I can’t bear the thought of a life without you, of losing the love that has defined everything for so long. Please hermosa” Frankie’s voice cracks and almost makes you flinch in your resolve. But you steel yourself.
"Don't put the blame on me, Frankie. I've already given you all the support I could. I've respected your silence, comforted you through your nightmares, and endured being pushed away. I've watched you withdraw into yourself, and nothing I did or said seemed to make a difference! I thought that if you didn't want to talk to me, it would be better if you spoke with a professional. I've made efforts to get you into therapy, rescheduling appointments when you didn't like the therapist, and even searched for support groups for veterans in the city, despite knowing well that you've never attended any of them. I've been working double shifts since before Ella was born because you've been grounded. I've held this family together with every ounce of my strength. I've pushed and pushed, but now, Frankie, I'm exhausted. I can't push anymore. What I need from you now is to leave and help yourself," you explain, your voice laden with exhaustion.
"What about Ella? Are you going to deny me the chance to see my own daughter?" Frankie's voice quivers with a mixture of anguish and frustration, as he feels himself losing control. In his desperation, he resorts to lashing out, aware of the vulnerabilities he can exploit, quite like the skilled military man he is, used to exploiting weaknesses in an opponent's defences.
"I can't believe you would even ask me that," you reply, feeling hurt. Frankie avoids your eyes, his own filled with shame for his hurtful words. "I'm not a monster. Of course, you can see Ella. But deep down, we both know it would be better for her if her father were to take care of himself," you continue in a softer tone. "I've tried to heal for you, Frankie, but now I realize this isn't healthy. This is a step you need to take on your own. I'm tired, and I can't do this anymore."
"What the hell happened to 'for better or for worse'? You promised me we'd face any storm together, but the moment things get tough, you fucking disappear," Frankie's voice loudly fills the air.
Raising your gaze, you respond defensively "That's just not fair, and you know it." Letting out a heavy sigh, you gather the strength to continue, "Frankie, I've done everything I can to support you, but it's becoming painfully clear that my love and help have only pushed you deeper into whatever hell you are in right now. Damn it, maybe my mom was onto something. Maybe I am broken or completely unlovable. Maybe there's something wrong with me if my own husband can't trust his wife and turns to drugs instead." Tears well up as you wrap your arms around yourself, the weight of sobs stuck in your throat. The raw emotions in your voice make it clear that this pain cuts deep.
"No, no, no, Mi cielo, don't say that. I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean any of it, fuck, I didn't mean any of it. I know you tried; I know you've been trying for so long. You are not unlovable; you are the most amazing woman in the world. I am the one who doesn’t deserve you, I am the one who has never deserved you. Fuck I can’t believe I would say that to you, how could I make you feel like that." Frankie's voice loses its strength.
"None of this is your fault; it's all on me. I'll do whatever it takes. I'll go and seek help, and I promise you, I'll become the man that both you and Ella deserve," Frankie's voice quivers with remorse as he slowly approaches you, his arms outstretched, seeking to bring you into a comforting embrace.
But you are unable to bear your husband’s touch just yet and so you raise one trembling hand while keeping the other tightly wrapped around yourself, motioning for him to halt. "No, please... I can't handle your touch right now. I... I know I'll flinch, and it's not what you need, what Ella needs," you express with a quiver in your voice, a delicate blend of vulnerability and unwavering determination. "I'll be at work tomorrow, from 8 am to 6 pm, and Mrs. Hu will be taking care of Ella. You can come and collect anything you need during that time."
Frankie's sobs grip him overwhelmingly, tears cascading down his face like a torrent, but he manages to muster a nod of acceptance before slowly making his way toward the door. Just as his trembling hand reaches for the doorknob, he pauses, his gaze locked with yours, his voice barely a whisper choked with emotion.
"I'm really, really sorry, Mi cielo. The pain I've caused you is too much, and I carry the weight of my mistakes like a heavy burden. I want you to know that I take full responsibility for hurting our relationship and our family. It's all my fault, and I can't even find the words to express how deeply I regret everything."
His voice trembles, revealing the desperation in his heart as he goes on, “But please, trust me when I tell you that I won't give up. I won't let cocaine define who I can be. I'll find a way, no matter how tough the road ahead, to mend the broken parts of myself. I'll seek the help and guidance I need to heal, to become the husband and father that both you and Ella deserve."
And with that, he gathers the strength to turn away. His footsteps gradually fade as he leaves the room, leaving behind the lingering echoes of what you hope is Frankie’s sincere promise.
As the door closes, you crumble to the ground, consumed by doubt, pain, and anxiety. The weight of your actions bears down heavily, suffocating any shred of certainty. Questions flood your mind: Have you betrayed the sacred promises of your marriage? The thought gnaws at your conscience, tormenting you relentlessly. Perhaps, if you had been more understanding, more accommodating, this heart-wrenching situation could have been prevented. The self-blame intensifies, distorting your sense of self-worth into a hollow mockery.
Frankie has barely been gone for a few seconds, and yet your heart screams to chase after him. The urge to fix what's broken, to salvage the crumbling remnants of your relationship, grips you with an iron fist. But amidst the chaos of emotions, a flicker of clarity emerges. This painful separation, as agonizing as it feels, is something you need. It's a painful necessity for your own well-being, for the sake of Ella, and for the survival of your fractured family.
Trembling with uncertainty, you repeat to yourself like a desperate mantra, "You need this. You need this." Each word echoes with a haunting mix of determination, fear, and hope, reminding you of the bitter truth that sometimes, the most agonizing path is the only way forward.
You find yourself repeating the words over and over again, the echoes resounding through the shattered fragments of your soul. It becomes a desperate mantra, a chant that reverberates within the hollow chambers of your being: "You can't flinch. You mustn't flinch. You can't flinch. You mustn't flinch." Each repetition, like a plea to yourself, carries the weight of your determination to stay strong, to withstand the emotional turmoil that engulfs you.
Exhaustion eventually overtakes you, guiding your weary steps towards yours and Frankie's bedroom – now yours alone for the foreseeable future. As you reach the edge of your bed, a profound emptiness permeates your soul, accentuating the hollow void within. A sight catches your attention: the green duvet carelessly tossed on the floor, a remnant of the hasty morning departure.
With a heavy sigh, you pick up the comforter, its fabric still carrying traces of Frankie's presence. Bringing it close to your face, you inhale deeply, drawing in his lingering scent, a bittersweet reminder of the love that once thrived in this room. Wrapping yourself in the duvet, you cocoon your fragile frame, seeking solace in its familiar itchy warmth. The world around you fades away as you surrender to a dreamless slumber, where you hope to find some respite from the relentless ache in your heart.
Next Chapter
#fanfic#fic#triple frontier#triple frontier fic#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#frankie morales fanfic#frankie morales#frankie catfish morales#francisco morales x reader#francisco catfish morales#francisco morales#pedro boys#pedrohub#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fandom
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watching tos for the first time since like, roughly 2012/13-ish? i don't remember what year it was, or why i only got thru most of season 1 before stopping
it's been fun to refresh my swiss cheesed memory with this tho so here's a semi-liveblog of the first 10 eps that i watched over the past couple weeks
1x01 - the man trap
things i remembered beforehand:
salt monster
"plum" uwu
that gay little run and crawl jim does when he's taking cover (it fills me with such delight)
things i did not remember:
how many people died, good god man it's only the first episode
1x02 - charlie x
things i remembered:
jim's bright red exercise pants
that stupid fucking face charlie makes when he uses his powers
not liking this ep at all when i first watched it, possibly due to me being around the same age as charlie at the time
additional thoughts: i enjoyed it more this time and felt more sympathetic for charlie. poor kid needed some parents, and also, like, a hug
1x03 - where no man has gone before
things i remembered:
bones isn't in it :'( (bored) (sad) (missing my bestie)
"James R Kirk"
that post i saw on here recently about how their contacts were made of glass
the only thing i could think about while watching:
their contacts
were made
of GLASS
(yes i understand this was how contacts were made back then. still freaked out by the concept of people putting glass in their eyes on purpose)
1x04 - the naked time
things i remembered:
sweat disease
sulu fencing
oh kathleen
"ONE-MORE-TIME!!"
"love mankind"
spock breakdown (extremely uncomfortable to watch)
bones casually ripping jim's shirt sleeve to jab him in the arm (extremely hilarious every time i think about it)
did not remember:
anything about them almost crashing into a planet lol
jim's little monologue when he gets infected (lmao)
time warp???
additional thoughts: hey remember when they reused this plot in tng and tasha and data fucked (<- literally the only thing i can remember about it) ((edit from future fex: i rewatched that ep. it was wild. tos did it better tho))
1x05 - the enemy within
things i remembered:
unicorn dog :)
evil kirk and poor little meow meow kirk
"I'M CAPTAIN KIRK!!!"
things not remembered:
dog dies :(
evil kirk's killer eyeliner
additional thoughts: say what you will about shatner / his acting but this ep is Peak shatner performance and a lot of fun to watch. he put his whole pussy into it, as the kids say these days
1x06 - mudd's women
things remembered:
could not forget harry mudd if i tried
the women are color coded like the powerpuff girls lol
they're also like, on some kind of drug that keeps them looking young or something
cool costumes tho
i don't have much to say about this one lol, harry's a fun character but the rest of the ep wasn't super interesting to me. did finally learn how to pronounce "ophiuchus" tho so i'll thank it for that
1x07 - what are little girls made of
things remembered:
is this the penis rock episode (it is)
uhhh i think kirk gets put into some kind of spinny machine that makes androids (he does)
more cool costumes (debatable)
things i find funny:
the number of planets we've encountered so far that are populated by like. 2-4 people
the way ruk (the big guy) just picks up and throws kirk like he weighs nothing
so much buildup with kirk and the penis rock and he doesn't even get to hit ruk over the head with it smh
also not a funny moment but i liked the way kirk was able to get a message to spock thru the android kirk, v clever
wait i just realized bones wasn't in this ep either. deducting 1/4 of a star from my mental rating bc i missed him (but apparently not that much)
1x08 - miri
remembered:
planet of children (bc everyone else died of terminal puberty)
"no blah blah blah!"
bones tests his newly discovered, untested cure on himself, in true mad scientist fashion (also spones moment <3)
saw this ep on a "what's your fave 'bad' episode" poll here recently and i can't remember if i thought it was good or bad when i first watched it lol
forgot:
another earth?? there's just a second, identical earth floating around out there?? and (of course) they don't mention it at all for the rest of the episode
300 year old children
oh these kids are so much more annoying than i remembered, however i may just be biased bc i don't like kids shfkshfk
1x09 - dagger of the mind
remember:
absolutely nothing! oh boy!
thoughts:
wow this ep is fucked up!
okay actually i don't think i've seen this one at all before?
usually there'll be moments that jog my memory but the only thing even slightly familiar to me was kirk going "helen don't go!" while in the neutralizer chair, but i could've just seen a clip/gif of it before
i remember skipping episodes in season 1 (i was impatient and wanted to get to city on the edge of forever) but i thought i'd at least made it to halfway thru the season before skipping any
anyway did i mention this ep is fucked up? (star trek really does love to drop an absolutely haunting 50 minutes of television on you and then never address it again, i understand this now. roll credits!)
1x10 - the corbomite maneuver
remember:
uhh
there's a thing out there
it's in the way
preventing them from boldly going, even
looks like an old windows screensaver
i might've skipped this ep too now that i think about it
thoughts:
cute mckirk moment in sickbay :3
i love that this cube has its own theme music whenever its on screen
oh shit it's the sequel to cube: orb
jesus christ that's a big orb
man they really said "okay we've got 3 music tracks and we're gonna get our money's worth out of them"
i gotta say this ep slaps tbh—WAIT HE'S A BABY???
LITTLE BABY MAN
LMAOOOOO
honestly great episode tho i'll stand by that
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Guess who finally finished Sebastians quest and saw the last pensive memory. This gal. And let me tell you I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS AND THEORIES FRIENDS! LONG ramble & spoilers for HL below the read more.
Sebastian quest:
So first of all focusing on the Sebastian quest line Solomon was so out of pocket for trying to attack us while inferi we're attacking us? Like excuse me sir are you actually just trying to kill us maybe let's take care of the undead before we start fighting? Also this man was an auror right so like he should be able to easily disarm 2 students without having too completely fight us like he was.
Also the Slytherclaw in me was coming out because when he destroyed that artifact I got so mad that is history and like an archeological find and now it's lost to history because he destroyed it instead of responsible people studying it.
But I do have to say I feel like it was very obvious that he had some PTSD or a lot of his own issues that hes trying to figure out. So he clearly also wasn't dealing with the situation in a healthy way none of it was healthy or good.
I obviously did not turn in my main boy Sebastian absolutely not we are ride or die lol.
Main Quest:
The way I'm playing the Isadora and Sebastian crosslines are happening like simultaneously. So it's super easy to see the similarities and comparisons between the 2 about how Isadora and Sebastian are trying to help people but maybe it's not doing so in the right way. Obviously I think Sebastian is way more in the right than Isadora. Like originally when I was reading theories about Isadora I was totally kind of on her side but then when they started showing that she was practicing her magic on students....minors.... like literally 1st year Hogwarts students I was like OK now that's not cool.
Also like her dad being wiped off all emotion is definitely a step too far I believe there could be an importance for relieving pain when needed but pain is also there to help us learn and appreciate the good in life. Literally this is a Vampire Diaries moment do not turn off your humanity switch LMAO.
I just want to mention that because my MC is a girl San Bakar's comments to us about not feeling like we are trustworthy felt lowkey a little sexist just because we are the only other 5th year female to wield this power other than Niahm.
OKAY NOW FOR THE GAME THEORY:
At the moment of writing this I technically have not finished the full game but I know it happens, But I remember people theorizing about a specific part that I just witnessed with Isadora and her death.
When San Bakar does the avidikidivi on Isadora and she x_x yknow. We see these little traces of ancient magic leaving her into the repository. And I saw a lot of people theorizing that maybe this is her leaving some part of her behind and that there's something hidden there but I actually think a more likely theory is that the part of her that is leaving is used to somehow help set up her pensive so that the future ancient magic weilder can see her memories. So she basically set up a plan B.
What I also found really creepy was that as she is dying like being hit by the spell her eyes kind of go blank and she smiles falters and then falls whereas we have seen a lot of people will just instantly die. I have 2 theories on this one of them that is connected to her setting up the pensive is her knowing that everything is safe like her memories and her theories and that they'll be passed on but I also think that she has removed pain from herself to the point that she doesn't even feel the pain of the most powerful killing curse.
It's a little bit like death note lol where I think this dark use of ancient magic tainted her and changed her personality from her true self almost like a drug. To be honest I wouldn't be surprised if she actually made horcruxes.
Anyways I was a lot of rambling but I do think that the Keepers are also a bit wrong for a just completely shutting this down instead of looking into it any responsible healthy way.
Thank you for listening to my Ted talk lol if anybody wants to theorize with me please hit me up I would love to chat!!!
#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#slytherin#ominis gaunt#hogwartslegacy#simply post#dark arts#isidora morganach#MC#hogwarts legacy theory#also guess who just discovered the nvidia screeshot feature#cant wait to install the mods now#hogwarts legacy spoilers#solomon sallow
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the sea around us; pt.2 chapter two
Snowy saw no choice but to run- wondering if Rafe will ever understand that the pogues mean everything to her. JJ gets it though. JJ will always get it.
(jj maybank x f!oc)
(rafe cameron x f!oc)
warnings/tags: violence, drug/alcohol use, smoking, sexual content (if you squint), slowburn, brother’s best friend, (these tags are obv not exhaustive but regardless it’s pretty PG13)
wc: 1.1k (so short omg)
my masterlist
series masterlist
requests
*:･ﾟ✧*:･
JJ and I decide we are better off abandoning our plan of following the water and walking deeper into the city to try and find a highway. Eventually, we do, and we reach the far side which is moving southbound. It's only about an hour before someone pulls over in an SUV to pick us up. It looks like a family car, which eases my nerves only slightly.
"You kids alright?" The woman in the passenger seat asks after rolling down her window. "You shouldn't be hitchhiking, you know. It's dangerous."
"Yes ma'am, but we're in a bit of a pinch, you see." JJ says, walking up to the window as I keep my distance. It's a middle-aged man and woman in the vehicle, they remind me a little of my parents. Maybe that's my guilt talking, though.
"You're not fugitives, are ya?" The man asks and JJ laughs, without skipping a beat.
"No sir, just, uh..." He glances in their back seat, and then gestures back at me. "Her parents are not my biggest fans at the moment, if you get what I mean. We're trying to make our way to my mom's place, down in the keys. She's got more room for the three of us there." JJ smiles, leaning on the ledge of the window.
"Oh honey, you're pregnant? Let's get you out of the sun. Hop on in you two, we can get you there." The woman says, glancing at me with worry in her eyes. I smile thankfully at her, and JJ smiles as he comes back over, helping me limp to the car.
"Sorry about the mess back there, kids." The woman's husband laughs and we both smile and nod, and JJ pushes the car seat over to the far side.
"It's no problem. We really appreciate the ride." I reply as JJ climbs in and closes the door, and I give him a look. He can always think on his feet, but I'm not sure how making me look more vulnerable could be super helpful.
"So, what are your names?" She asks as we pull back out onto the highway.
"Jesse." JJ responds, looking over at me.
I have a moment of panic. What is the absolute opposite of my name? "My name is Summer." I say, thinking on my feet.
"Are your parents from the area? Real beach people, they sound like." The man says, glancing back at me in the mirror.
"Actually New York." I lie, "They just wish they were beach people."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Summer and Jesse. I'm Rachel, and my husband's name is Cole." The woman smiles. "You have come an awful long way if you're from New York."
"What are your kids' names?" JJ asks, trying to steer the conversation.
"Well our oldest is Theo, and the little one is Anna." She explains. "He's five and she just turned one."
"That's lovely, Anna is my sister's name." I smile. I'm picturing her in my mind, but the memories quickly turn sour when I realize what she must be going through right now.
"Are you at the point where you're thinking about names yet?" She asks, turning to look back at me.
"Well," I laugh slightly, looking over at JJ for some kind of help as he wraps his arm around my shoulder.
"She doesn't think so, but I've already got my heart set." He grins, and she nods wanting to hear. "I'm thinkin', if it's a girl, Juliette. But if it's a boy, definitely we have to go with Booker."
I smile a little as I look at my friend. "I like Booker." I agree. "Maybe better as a middle name though."
"That's an... Interesting choice." Cole says and his wife reaches over and hits him.
"I think it's just precious." Rachel says, smiling back at us.
JJ nods at that, looking awfully pleased with himself.
"If you don't mind me asking, how old are you both?" She asks.
"Seventeen." I answer, but I probably should have lied about that one too.
"We'll both be eighteen by the time the baby comes." JJ says, nudging me a little. It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes or shove him. He's just dragging this out to annoy me now.
"Summer, honey, what happened to your foot? I noticed you have a bit of a limp there." Rachel says, thankfully wanting to move on from the subject. Unfortunately, I think saying I got hit by a car while I was running from the scene of a murder is not a good answer.
"Oh! A bit of a funny story, honestly.." I laugh a little to buy myself a few seconds. "I tripped over a bike laying on the sidewalk, and you know how expensive health insurance is, so I'm walking this one off."
"Tell me about it." Cole laughs.
"I know I'm not your mom, but you'll really need to get that lined up before baby comes. You'll be in a world of trouble without it." Rachel says worriedly.
"Of course." I nod. "J... I mean Jesse," I catch myself before I say his full name, "has a job lined up in Key West that has benefits too so..." I trail off.
"I'm really glad we won't be walking all that way with her on that ankle, so thank you again." JJ says.
"Well, you two are in luck because we are on our way to the keys anyways. We left the kids with my parents there and we're going to get them, so we can take you as far as Key Largo." Cole says and JJ and I look at each other.
"That would be amazing." I smile back at the man driving. "We don't have a lot of money, but I can pitch in for gas."
"Oh please, it's only an hour and we were going there anyways. Don't even worry about it." Rachel waves me off.
"Would you mind if we borrowed a phone? I need to text my mom and let her know where we are." JJ says and Rachel nods.
"Of course, hun, take mine." She says, unplugging it and handing it back to him. I watch as he types in Kie and Pope's numbers for a group message.
UNK.: hey guys, hear from JB yet? P4L
It's a few minutes before we get a response.
K: Holy shit, JJ?
UNK.: yes ma'am at your service
K: Thank god you guys made it- we thought you were dead for sure
P: We did hear from him and Sarah, they both made it too.
I smile and nudge JJ, him looking down at me and I can tell he's just as relieved to hear that as I am.
UNK.: are they still on track for the plan? brownsville?
K: no, their boat flipped and they ended up in Nassau
UNK.: we're in florida, on our way to the keys. should we head to the bahamas?
P: probably not a good move, someone tried to turn them in so it's hot there
UNK.: sounds to us like they need a jj escape plan
K: no
P: no
We look at each other while we're both thinking the same thing, what is our move here? The most obvious answer is to go and pick them up. I think JJ will agree. The hard part will be finding them.
UNK.: b in touch <3
*:･ﾟ✧*:･
omg it's been a few days mb- i have friends staying at my house atm but i'm excited to get back to posting!
taglist: @boo22sstuff @madelynie @username5786451@peachprairie@slut4drudy @sadfury @mutual-mendes @cecesrings (i also tagged some mutuals so message me or reply if you want to be added (or removed lol)!!)
#rafe cameron#rafe obx#obx fanfic#outer banks#obx#rafe fic#rafe cameron x oc#rafe fanfiction#jj maybank#rafe imagine#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj obx#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank x oc#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x reader#rafe angst
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Do you have any thoughts about how Marius' mom exactly died? Seeing the two brothers kind-of have a 10 year gap between them, maybe she had trouble getting pregnant, and having another child after Giann was very difficult, and it ultimately cost her life??
hi anon!!!
for most details, i draw heavily upon whats already mentioned in canon. the circumstances of carenina's death were detailed in SSR All Through The Night (one of my top personal fave marius cards, i highly recommend it to anyone who hasnt read its story ;w;) which goes: carenina was already ill with Something prior to marius' birth, and that illness was what caused her death really, not marius, but the process of his birth had exacerbated her pre-existing condition, which is why she passed away
ahhhh yes....tot and their love for mysterious illnesses........coINCIDENCE????
so my speculative thoughts on carenina's death are: man it cannot be a coincidence that another character had a Mysterious Fatal Illness. ive got a hunch (or a hope) that carenina's illness was caused by the nxx drug somehow. it'd be super interesting because if that were the case, its reveal would then add immense personal stakes to marius' role in the nxx investigation team (similar to how luke has personal stakes, because nxx caused his illness too). it'd also explain why giann had started the team in the first place. not to say that i Dont think giann wouldve started it solely on want to do good, but it's just Such a specific thing to start investigating, yknow? mama von hagen being connected to this gives a possible reason for how the team even began
though my more general thoughts/hcs on her death is:
i think she died not immediately after childbirth, but maybe a few weeks or a month after
i want this because i just hope she got to meet marius, and marius got to meet her, even for just a little portion of both their lives
it's always been an indulgent headcanon of mine that carenina was the reason marius' nxx codename is king, because that was an affectionate nickname she'd given marius when he was a baby demanding food or cuddles. "yes, yes, im here, my little king"
marius doesnt remember, of course. he was much too young. but austin and giann did, and most probably recounted the memories to marius when he was older. it stuck to him. a Lot
so yea! it would be cool to me if carenina was somehow tied to the main plot. and it would heal my heart just a bit if carenina got the chance to meet her youngest son.
#asks#anon#i have another ask asking deeper abt marius' unique grief for someone he never met n i'll explain further there but...later im so sleepy om
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Okay I’ve been scrolling down for a little while now? And?
And I’m starting to think the PTSD flashback Quinn had in chpt. 10 (? I think) is something to do with her dad *almost* drowning MC, at least once.
If I had to guess, he found out between Quinn and MC, and absolutely blew up. He was either going to, or already had hurt Quinn in some way, and MC either was called for help, or walked in on it, and somehow ended with them in a very bad way involving water, and Quinn’s dad with a busted nose. Maybe Quinn hit him with something when MC was getting attacked, MC got a hit in (I don’t think MC started it, since it’s on the record that MC doesn’t do random acts of violence), and took the blame for it ALL.
But I’m also so confused!! Because you also described MC in Quinn’s horror flashback as being wet and ice cold, and looking like they did before they were clean - I’m MISSING SOMETHING, AHHHHH. The gas station ice bags, you mentioned it twice, and I’m drawing a blank as to why that’s so important.
Drugs and ice, what’s the connection? Could it be some kind of memory? Where could Quinn have seen ice bags, and why would it be so important that ice was where it was? Camping? I can only think of organ harvesting, but that seems too far fetched 😪😵💫
Can I ask when did MC start using? (Was it related to Quinn’s dad/their trauma surrounding that mystery water incident?)
Most (if I’m remembering correctly,) of Quinn’s trauma has been catholic guilt, daddy issue related. Where was Quinn’s mother in this? Was she involved? Was she behind the scenes, encouraging her husbands violence? Or was she the keeper of peace? What’s her place in all this??
I’d say ‘WHO KNOWS’, but YOU knows. >:( I hope you’re amused, cause I feel deranged.
I hope this doesn’t come off as demanding you to answer my questions 😭 it’s really fun to talk (type?) out my thinking process, I hope it’s somehow beneficial to you too 😂
you don’t have to answer/respond to anything if it’s spoiler-y!
I just read your progress tracking update, and oh my god, the energy to lovers with underfell Grillby? Sounds SO GOOD!!
You wrote so much; and are going to write so much, I hope you’re also taking enough time to do nothing, and take breaks! Good job!! AHHHH!!
I am SCREAMING at ‘WHO KNOWS’, but YOU knows’!!! I was literally thinking the other day how funny it is that I’m the only one who knows wtf is going on lol. This is too much power and responsibility for me!!!
Okay okay so I'll answer things sorta vaguely, if you want anything clarified more and aren't afraid of broaching closer to the spoiler territory feel free to dm me and I will straight up tell you anything lol, I am terrible at keeping secrets and I will also pop the below under a cut cause it's kinda long -
Re: the flashback, I'll note that Quinn doesn't make any connection between the wet, frostbitten, fucked-up MC, except that they look like they did when they were still using. Quinn, just like the reader, also doesn't know why MC appeared to her like that. It is disturbing and confusing, but she doesn't relate it to any event or experience with MC. Same with the ice bags - she doesn't have anything to connect it with, so she doesn't. Because we're working through the lens of Quinn in that scene, there's a whollllllle lot of context missing.
As a hint, though: the Quinn's dad incident and whatever the fuck is going on with the frostbite and ice and water are completely separate things.
MC's drug use started when they were thirteen and doesn't relate to Quinn. I do like your line of thinking though! I also like your thinking about organ harvesting lol, that would've been a very different turn to what I'm planning!
Quinn's mother was complicit in a lot of Quinn's childhood. I've kinda gotten into it, but the Lawsons are deeply, deeply religious, super fundamentalist. Many fundamentalist Christian families follow a hierarchical structure of the family, where the husband is the spiritual leader, wives are expected to submit to their husband's authority and support his decisions, and then the kids submit to them both (dad first, though).
And oh my gosh not demanding at all!!! I love answering your questions and you always do help my process! I am so! excited! for the Undefell Grillby fic too, I think it'll be good for me to write something a little lighter and simpler too lol.
I really appreciate your kind words <3 <3 <3 Not to get mushy but I wrote more in 2023 (and only started in July!) than I have in my whole life. RTC came after a three year break from writing and was in a brand-new fandom with a kinda weird concept and I was so so so scared to post that first chapter. I'm so glad that I did, though! I feel like I've really found a little community here.
#rtc asks#july talks rtc#thank you so much :)#i always get excited when I see you've commented or sent me an ask!
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I think its worth considering that how ancients behaved was from universal
I recall one of the broadcasts describing how the ancients of one iterator had formed a sort of cult around one ancient, while another iterator said that their citizens citizens made festivals constantly
Also I don't think moon is the best source of info since she is a collapsed iterator that forgets things regularly. (Best example being how she said that none of them really missed their creators while pebbles clearly holds a lot od value in what their creators made)
My point is that its entirely possible that in some iterators that it was a group mass ascension, but it is also possible for the citizens of some iterators to have slowly ascended one by one
They did behave differently! I even recall the broadcast you are referring to, it's the one between WO and SI where they reminisce about the ancients after they've left.
PS: Ramble about Moon's memories and Pebs incoming below I went a little off-track at some point I'm sorry aegh!!
The thing is it is implied they ALL left at roughly the same time? I presume? If we were expected to believe otherwise, it's weird we've never heard of one iterator having citizens still left over while another's were already ascended. Sure it's possible we don't know, because we have so few examples, but it's an important one to give I think..
MOON IS ABSOLUTELY not in the best of conditions, but she forgets things. I'm not sure if she's said anything super faulty(?) Mostly she just lacks info. Like how she has no idea what vulture masks are. Not to mention all of her knowledge on fauna and flora (which it's implied she's interested in) is super vague. She uses language like "some" "some sort of" "some kind" and "I don't know" haha.
Hey, she does remember what drugs are! Both the karma and the normal kind that's funny.
Other than that, she'd absolutely have memories of key things, just because she's proven she does! Or at least she gets reminded of them from the pearls you give to her.
I think uhm.. her lack of knowledge/understanding of Five Pebbles' opinion on the ancients speaks for their uh.. less than perfect relationship (and her bias!) more than anything. Not that having a faulty memory.. helps, but Pebbles considered Suns his friend more than he does Moon, so conversations about their creators were probably shared with them more often than with Moon.
I mean even when she's the one who got blasted (fell), Pebbles speaks with more pain about losing Suns as a companion. I do think that uh.. probably has to do with him feeling frustrated that part of the reason why he failed was like- well Moon. She interrupted him and caused the rot to start it's shenanigans
It's not like he didn't feel remorseful towards her as much as he was upset. He never meant to hurt her.
But look at how he talks about Suns..
Makes me think of what Suns meant by using the information in that pearl responsibly while Pebbles feels like they fully understood. I love reading these pearls I love how upset and frustrated Pebbles is at how he keeps hurting the people trying to help/ reach out to him. Of course he wants to be left alone he's scared and guilty.
You guys have issues like all of you.
Anyway ohhh man jumped TERRIBLY off track I'm SO sorry- UHH ANCIENTS ASCENDING YESYES.
I don't think it's impossible for a few on some colonies to have remained for longer, I just think it's implied they all roughly went at the same period of time. I don't know how long that period was!
#ask#anonymous#rain world#my brain running at the speed of sound picking up little dialogue parts and pearls for info on their characters i got excited oops#hope this is coherent and fun to read!#I sure had fun writing pHEW
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okay girlies, i'm finally gonna do it
i'm gonna listen to the very last episode of the pasithea powder
once more unto the breach we go
Episode 33: Jane & Sophie
"conclude the lurid tale"
she's not captain or lieutenant anymore ;-;
yeaaaah, get fucked war!
linda for the winda!!
fucking hot to trot again
new elinor lopez project? is it a dating show to find her next ex-wife?
yeah, that's right blanc, you keep her fucking nickname out of your fucking mouth
"when i'm home" she has a home ;;-;; and it doesn't feel like a creepy serial killer apartment ;;;-;;; (i assume)
anders gets to see his friend agaaaaaain
"i burned kind of a big bridge" yeah kind of a wilf-sized bridge
"oh god she's so terrible and adorable and i love her so much" i'm fucking dyiiiiiiiing
"you. need. me." "i really don't." fuck yeah jane
"i'm not significant in the overall shape of her life" oh. ouch. that...hurts to think about. rowley meant so much to the shape of jane's life and jane, while not totally insignificant to hers, was still just...one little piece. not even enough to make her brain start eating itself.
she's in a book club ;;;-;;;
she grows tomatoes ;;;;-;;;;
love that the general news publicizes the fact that jane and sophie are girlfriends. or that rowley watches the telescope and believes however elinor frames this whole mess
one last shout-out to david alegros's gay daughter's dad!! come help your old co-worker do experimental memory drugs!!
c'mon jane, sophie's a work-out gay, not an ace hardware gay
how long before mama green starts asking about grandchildren
mia and lea on a jet skia
oh jesus, jane clubbing, that's an image
hypnos: not even once: the carla de luca story
oh maryanne by annie moriondo, we're really in it now
super romantic lil b&e
"he got stung by bees there on multiple occasions" "he really loved bees tho" god what a fucking nerd
...i wonder if omikron likes bees...did sophie know evelyn liked bees enough for omikron to like bees too...?
is that DIEGETIC WELLINGTON RAIN?? my fucking heart.....
"ethics aside, and other podcast scientific issues"
they got their own place where george lives with them, i love them so fucking much ;;;;;-;;;;;
fuck, campus security. parkour to freedom, i guess?
oh...
it's over now...
i guess the only thing left for it now...is...
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hey so i have a question and idk if this is an ask youre ok with answering, if not its fine- but so a week or so ago my mom offhandedly made a really weird really specific joke about me being fed balloons to traffic drugs as a child, and then immediately before i even said anything, started really aggressively saying she was joking and when i joked that it was a little suspicious that she was so aggressive about clarifying it was a joke, she said (slight paraphrasing) “well i thought i should say it because otherwise you’d be like ‘oh i don’t remember my childhood, did that actually happen?,,’” and then basically called me crazy by comparing me to a really notoriously eccentric friend i have, and when i called her out on it she accused me of being the one who was calling him (and myself) crazy, then when i said she was acting weird she started getting really flustered and it was super awkward and she was over explaining in a way she only does when she’s lying or trying to cover her ass, she kept giving me reasons that i wasn’t a drug mule as a child, and then she left extremely quickly and unnaturally after the whole interaction. I don’t have any memories of this, but the whole thing left me feeling extremely uneasy in a way i usually am not. I felt like I was in danger the rest of the night and even ended up sleeping with a weapon, which to be fair is a feeling i’ve had before but it’s never been exactly like this. I really felt like i found something out that i wasn’t supposed to, and that they would kill me for it. i do have ocd and this could’ve just been that, but it was weird. it felt more real and ive been very off balance since this, feeling very unsafe everywhere i go. i have a weapon by my bed at all times now just in case, but i have no idea why i am doing this because i have no memory of having any reason to.
im very polyfragmented (dont know why or what caused it, know i experienced some kind of severe childhood abuse but generally don’t remember anything from childhood before age 10) and i’ve been splitting much more than usual since this, idk why.
I have been badly triggered by mention of organized crime and drug rings in the past but i assumed it was just because it was a heavy topic. I also have symptoms and vague memories of csa, as well as csem/csam. some of my alters are intensely triggered by the word magazine, i dont know why.
i am having trouble getting this out, i feel like my mind is trying to stop me if that makes any sense, i feel like im sealing. my fate by typing this. i dont think i am but its a very heavy feeling. i just want to know if this is something i should actually be concerned about, or if i am just crazy and an attention seeking liar making up false stories for pity. my parents dont seem capable of anything like this at all, and i know i at least had a regular side of my life as a child with friends and school and stuff, but for some reason I’m scared and have been scared since my mom mentioned it, and i just need to know if this anything i should be worried about, or look into, or anything. if theres a possibility i experienced something awful and don’t remember it at all. its been really bugging me and scaring me for a bit,
im sorry this is a really long confusing ask, youre free to delete it. my mind is quite jumbled. sorry
No worries about the length of the ask. I want to assure you that you can write as much as you feel comfortable with.
I agree with you, it is an odd joke that your mother made. There is a saying that behind a joke there is some truth in it.
Ultimately you know your mother. Does she often turn things around on you when you have disagreements? From what you described it sounds like gas-lighting.
Feeling safe is so important. I understand the need/feeling/desire to sleep with a knife. Feels safe, I get it. My question is, who are “ they”? Who would try to kill you?
Which leads me back to safety. If you are physically safe, which only you can answer, and have been then you are likely safe. If not, what things do you feel you are able to do to work towards safety?
There are parts in your system who do remember the abuse and what occurred. With time perhaps they will share those things.
Take your time in deciding what you want to do. The choice is yours to make. There is something awful that occurred that led to you living with DID.
Take care,
Oz
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Birthday Prompt 1 - Steph and Jason - Narrative Parallels
Prompted by @vvienne
—
“Why weren’t you angry?” Jason asks, one night, sprawled on a rooftop near the marina. “When you came back?”
He’s staring at the stars like they owe him something, but then Steph’s pretty sure he looks at the whole world that way. She’s sitting up, leaning back on her hands, looking at a neon sign down the street that says, ‘Roger’s Hot Basement,’ that she’s already taken note she needs to ask Tim about.
“I was angry,” she said.
His head tips back so he can fix that hungry look on her and she shrugs.
“I don’t think what happened to us was the same, really.”
It’d taken time, after she died, to realise how bad it had really been. Between the drugs, and leaving Gotham, and Leslie being cagier than Steph had ever expected her to be. The full weight of it, the fact that it had been more than just getting hurt really bad, that had hit later. Followed immediately by the thought of that memorial in the Cave, and every word Bruce had ever said about her being too rash, and the fact that maybe he’d been right.
They’ve never had any deep conversations about why Jason did what he did when he came back. She figures part of it was not being remembered the way he wanted too—Honestly she feels like she would’ve been happy being remembered at all.
“Ok, but still,” Jason breaks in through her thoughts. “You never seemed angry.”
“I think you were in prison and didn’t know who I was at the time,” she retorts, which gets a bark of laughter. She cracks her neck idly while she tries to put it into words. “I didn’t—I died peacefully. Kind of. Like I got hurt violently, but I died in the clinic. And Leslie was there, and when I woke up after, Leslie was still there.”
There’s a soft acknowledging noise behind her. It almost sounds sad.
She risks asking, “Did you wake up alone?”
There’s silence so long she thinks he’s not going to say anything. Then, still quiet, “I think the first time. But when I… When I can actually remember. Talia was there.”
She twitches, despite herself. “Damian’s mom?”
“Mm.” Barely an acknowledgement. Not a lot of tone to go on.
But she feels like she knows enough about Damian to make some assumptions. “Probably a different vibe. And Bruce—He’s not my dad like he is yours.”
She’s a little worried it’s going to transition into a full Daddy Issues rant, but when she looks over she just sees Jason’s eyebrows pull together into a frown. “Did you want him to be?”
“Oof.” She winces. “Yes? No? Kind of? He was dead when I came back but I think even if he’d been around, by that point…” She trails off.
Jason’s laugh is drier this time. “Dying kind of takes the shine off it, right?”
“Maybe I just saw how fucked up the rest of you got,” she shoots back.
“Touché.”
There’s silence for a little bit. It feels like the conversation is done, but at the same time Steph can’t help chewing it over. It isn’t really as simple as just, Bruce as her dad or not. As Jason’s dad or not. Maybe the lustre has worn off, but he’s still better than her actual dad. She’s pretty sure Jason could say the same. But just…
She can remember, in Leslie’s clinic, everything fading out, asking Bruce if she’d ever really been Robin, and him saying she had. She can also remember, after she came back, asking if he’d never given her a memorial was because he knew she wasn’t dead, and he’d said yes. She’s pretty sure at least one of those wasn’t true, but she’s never been able to tell when Bruce lies.
She wonders if Jason knows better than she does. Maybe she should ask for tips.
Instead she says, “So, if I did get super mad and want to try out a whole villain turn, do you have any pointers? Things you would’ve done differently, contacts you can recommend?”
Jason grins. “Stop copying me.”
“You wish I was copying you.”
#dc fic#jason todd#stephanie brown#jason todd fic#stephanie brown fic#my fic#birthday prompts#i did not get to ur babs and cass prompt i'm sorry i might write it at some point but it's up in the air
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