#Twelve Constellations | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mariahcarreyyy · 2 months

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.ೃ࿐𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 . . . | 𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏 |

oscar piastri x fem!reader

plot. your sexual frustration is humiliatingly evident when oscar lets you sit on his lap

wc. 2.2k

warnings. smut 18+, thigh riding, innocent!reader, praise kink, purity rings, osc has a major corruption kink & refers to himself as god (sorry🫣), manhandling, swearing, allusions to heaven, and religious symbolism

A time when the gifted silver band wasn’t laced around your ring finger is not one you remember clearly. At the ripe age of twelve, with a face adorned with baby-like features and an ever-present aura of giddiness, your father had gently placed the circle on your overstretched hand.

“It’s a promise for abstinence,” he’d responded to your furrowed brows, but the foreign word had only deepened your confusion. “Look—here, it says, ‘I will wait for my beloved’. And you will, won’t you?”

Even now, despite his absence, you find yourself nodding at the slightly threatening question as your right hand fiddles with the thin loop. Boredom eating at your mind, your eyes shift to the figure occupying your chair; a smile slowly creeps onto your lips.

Oscar, a man of stubborn chestnut hair and constellations of moles embellishing his toned frame. The gleaming screen of the rectangle illuminates his face harshly, likely stinging his eyes as they dart across his unanswered emails.

A sigh leaves your lips. You fall pliant on your bed, unraveling the tight knots in your shoulders with a roll of your arms and an arch of your spine—an obnoxiously loud noise (a little whiny, in Oscar’s opinion) echoes along the room.

“You need anythin’, baby?” Oscar mumbles, mindlessly tapping at his keyboard.

With an exasperated huff, you lift yourself to sit upright and lean on your arm, your head lolling lazily to the side. Oscar perks up. He rips his eyes away from the rectangle box to crane his neck back and peer down at you through thick lashes— you and that godforsaken circle around your finger.

The small, knowing grin that makes itself home on Oscar's lips almost makes you embarrassed at your obvious search for attention. Almost. Your boyfriend sways his hips lightly to turn the wheely chair toward your peripheral vision.

“C’mere, sit on my lap while I finish?” he muses, patting his right thigh encouragingly. When he registers your giddy smile and hasty advances toward him, Oscar wants to punch himself three times in the gut for not asking you sooner.

“Well, if you’re begging for it,” you shrug sarcastically through a tight-lipped smile, finding solace in the V of his pale thighs before pausing.

Oscar notices your sudden shift in demeanor because, well, when does he not? “What’s wrong?”

You blink dumbly, pointing your index finger at the hem of his loose, cobalt blue shorts. The Australian follows the invisible line shooting out of your finger and frowns; his thighs tense instinctively, your unnerving stare fueling his insecurities more than he would like to admit.

“Y’don’t like them? I went to the mall with Lan last week, and he told me they were nice, so—”

The last of his words are muffled by a hand pressing against his mouth. Guilt shines through your pupils, he notices. “No, no, Osc, t-they’re fine. Fine, just– just short, is all.”

Really, incredibly, stupidly short. They were bunched up to the crease between his inner thighs and crotch, the pure muscle spilling out from the sides, making you curl your fists by your sides.

“Ah.”

Hesitantly, you meet his eyes, and regret swells in your heart almost immediately. “What? Why’re y’looking at me like that?”

Oscar nearly coos at the slight whine in your voice, and he reaches out to wrap his fingers around your forearm. Now, he’s sure he coos when you melt into his lap, his palms gripping the back of your folded knees and pulling you closer into his embrace.

“M’sorry, sorry, baby,” he laughs, and you hum happily as you bury your forehead into the crook of his neck, Oscar pecking your temple lovingly.

He still sounds like he’s aware of something you have no recollection of but. The warmth that wraps your soul in a blanket each time Oscar touches you returns, and the thought is quickly forgotten.

“S’fine,” you murmur. And you mean it this time.

A hum ripples against his throat and vibrates against your skin; time drifts by unknowingly—fast or slow, ten minutes or hours—but it’s enough for you to shift listlessly in your place. Oscar freezes, his pupils blown wide.

“S–shit, y/n, stop that,” he seethes through gritted teeth, hands flying to your waist and pushing you back slightly.

Your eyebrows furrow, confused wrinkles covering your forehead as you gaze down at him for an explanation, a reason—really, anything to stop your mind from running at a hundred miles per second.

“What?” a pout graces itself on your lips; Oscar wants to kiss it away, but. But if he does, he’s not sure how much self-restraint he can muster around you. “D’I do somethin’? Why don’t you...”

Sighing heavily, Oscar’s tight hold on your waist relocates down to your thighs. “No, no, baby—fuck, no, nothing like that. Just,” he lifts your knee to straddle one of his thighs instead. “Like this... s’better.”

Half instead of whole, and.

And Osc would cross the world twice, delving into each volcano and marching up the tallest mountains, to reassure you that you did nothing wrong in particular. It was him. Him and the blood rushing to his balls from you practically humping your clothed pussy against his dick.

Okay, maybe ‘humping’ is a bit of an exaggeration, but it didn’t feel like one.

Unbeknownst to Oscar, however, the relieved pressure on his end only slipped through the cracks of his skin and into yours. But he, God bless him, thinks nothing of the tension that’s boiling in your shoulders or the hitch of your breath. Blaming it on the lingering effects of his sudden repositioning, Oscar gently pulls you down with two massive hands on the swell of your ass.

Flush against his thigh. His thigh, Jesus fuck—a quiet forgive me, Lord, echoes around the walls of your mind.

“Osc,” you gasp quietly, the constant pressure against your privates shooting unfamiliar spikes of something down to your stomach—something you needed more of.

He hums dismissively; you want to cry. It doesn’t take you long, though, to fully grasp his attention when Oscar registers the heartbeat pressing between your squished pussy and his thigh.

The Australian's mind short circuits. “Y/n?”

“Osc, I-” you roll your hips experimentally, slapping a hand over your mouth and flushed cheeks when it parts around an unrestrained whimper.

Your boyfriend, seemingly snapping out of his bewildered daze, dips down to dust his lips over your reddening cheeks, chuckling fondly. “Enjoying y’self, baby?”

And that. That is what pulled you away from the edge of logical thinking and onto its’ center, halting movement in every bone in your body. Wrong—this—it’s all wrong, isn’t it? ‘I will wait for my beloved’ is etched into your skin, engraved onto your heart, and yet.

Yet, you can’t help but wonder: Is Oscar not your beloved?

“Y/n,” his assertiveness grounds you, pulls you back to the surface of his honey-filled eyes—just as he had intended. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready…”

Oscar's hand leaves the curve of your waist and reaches behind his neck to clasp onto your palm, bringing the cool metal of your purity ring against his mouth as he murmurs, “But don’t stop on my account.”

The ring burns through your skin and falls to the ground; you hope it cracks into a million little pieces of stupid promises. And anyway, Osc’s giddy smile when you allow him to—do what, you’re not really sure—is too precious to deny.

Nibbling on your raw bottom lip, you slowly shake your head. “No, I– I want this, Osc. Want you.”

He does not disappoint; his eyes crinkle through that grin you’d pay to see a hundred times over. Oscar taps the side of your thigh twice, signaling you to stand up, so you do. Your hands lay helplessly by your sides as he smoothed over the contours of your body until—

You let out a little gasp. “Osc!”

A soft, harmless tug at the hem of your shorts widens your eyes.

“Y/n,” he calls, and you can’t bother fighting the urge to rub your thighs together. “Y’want me to touch you, right? Make y’pussy feel better?”

The amount of self-restraint needed to block the guffaw from slipping past your lips does not fit into a number. Or a word. In any language.

Nonetheless, you find yourself bashfully nodding.

“Words, Y/n.”

You gulp, embarrassment apparent on your crimson cheeks. “Want you to—to make m’feel better.”

Oscar heaves out a laugh at your refusal to say those objectively filthy words; you almost want to commit murder, but it hurts. It hurts, and you can’t help but sigh happily when his hands swiftly pull both your shorts and panties down, manhandling your ankles out of the pool of clothing by your feet.

And only then, being ogled at by his mesmerized eyes and hands sliding down the sides of your body, does your mind grasp the fact that you were standing in front of Oscar. Half naked. His for the taking. The shame you'd expected to feel never came, and when Osc pulls you to straddle his thigh, you knew it never would.

“There we go,” he praises when you shift your weight fully onto him, rewarding you with a bounce of the leg you were resting on.

Choking through a loud gasp, your hands fly to his shoulders to brace yourself. “Oh, Osc, oh my—”

“Yeah? Y’like that?” Oscar grins almost cockily, repeating the sharp movement of his legs and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Mm, fuck, baby, can feel you all ov’me.”

The humiliating amount of slick your pussy’s gushing out should make you ashamed, but, well. When you grind against his thigh, the glide is much smoother than when you were fully clothed, so you silently thank your desperation instead.

“C’mon, baby, y’can do better than that,” he urges, hands resting on the globes of your ass and grinding your pussy against his slick-ridden thigh. “Y’ve been waiting so long for this, haven’t you?”

He coos at your frantic nods and refrains from groaning at the sight of you tilting your head back in pleasure; using him—his fucking thigh—to get off. The sound of your little, whiny moans leaves him feeling like an inexperienced teenager all over again; he wants more. Wants to have your pretty sounds made into a song to play on loop whenever he needs to.

With Oscar’s forceful hands dragging you up and down his muscular thighs, tensing them occasionally, and lips mouthing at your collarbone, you don’t think a sin should ever feel this good. You don’t think it could feel any better than it does, but.

The urgency in your movements almost has your legs aching, your jaw parted around a permanent ‘o’; the whimper that slips past your lips when his fingers graze your folds, not pushing but they’re there, and Oscar fucking moans when he feels your hole clench against them; the stutter of your hips when he dips down to your tits, tongue licking over the tight, thin fabric covering the hard nubs.

“Osc, ohmygod, ohm—” Your wail echoes around the entire flat, you’re sure, and if you had even a sliver of dignity left, you’d quiet down.

But. Oscar seems to have that effect on you; really, you don’t mind.

“Yeah, baby, I’m your god, huh?” He huffs out, muffled by his sucking on your nipples like they’d disappear tomorrow—like he is the one being taken apart on someone’s lap. “Humping my thigh—fuck, so fucking desperate, look at you.”

Your mouth parts around a moan, and you quickly put your face into the crook of his neck to, hopefully, contain your embarrassing noises. It does fuck all. Oscar lets out a disapproving noise at the separation of your little, swollen nipples and his pursed lips.

“Oscar, Oscar, Oscar,” you sob out like a prayer. “I feel, ah, I think I'm—Oh, yes, feels s’good, so.”

When Oscar slides a hand up to your hair to tug your head up to his face, he looks nearly as fucked out as you feel. And when his eyes dart to your lips, visibly contemplating whether or not he should kiss you, you make the decision for him.

His soft lips meet the fuse of the boiling pleasure in your stomach, forcing your spine to arch and painting your eyes a shade of white you had only imagined would be in heaven—smiling hazily and foggy-brained, you can’t imagine this not being heaven.

A sharp cry dances between your mouths, and you swear you can feel a few tears trickle down your face, but your mind only processes the last few moments before you collapse onto his chest.

Oscar gently slides the silver band out of your ring finger, tucking it into his pockets, and placing a soft kiss on your temple as he murmurs, “No use f’this, now, is there?”

Even when on the brink of passing out, you find yourself nodding; Oscar thinks you’ll be the death of him. Or, more specifically, his dick.

authors notes this is an apology to @lifeboredme for ignoring the poll n writing the max fic hehe hope u enjoy 🫶 + thank you to @cafekitsune as always for the dividers mwah.

plot what plot??? porn without plot🗣️🗣️🗣️ very much hate this fic but i also hate every fic of mine so. en e wayz im sorry in advance for my inactivity the next few weeks i have sm shit going on. writing grind comes after march 6 istg🙏

also, thank you so much to everyone who waited for this fic and im so sorry for the delay!! i got hit by a mountains load of stress but yeah <3

lemme know how you liked this story or give me some feedback in the comments or my inbox! 💬🥕

taglist in separate posts again el oh el . . . i tagged everyone who interacted w/ my original post bcs i was too lazy to make an actual post dedicated to tags

p.s REBLOGS and likes are always appreciated 🧡🧡

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fanfictasia · 2 years

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Swoon June Day 12

Constellations

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Card of Heart

Anakin gets back before long, and Ahsoka just makes herself scarce as he and Padme have a talk about all of this. She can tell she’s clearly extremely unhappy, but she can only hope that her explanation from earlier will be enough. She does have the right to be upset, but yelling at Anakin about it won’t help. It will only make him more depressed. Ahsoka finally finishes putting Luke and Leia to bed – she can’t imagine a world without them, and for that alone, she can’t say she wishes they’d made a different decision even if maybe she also does – before she slips back out, going to join her… parents.

Things between Anakin and Padme seem settled now, although there’s a certain tension about Anakin that he didn’t have earlier. Ahsoka reaches over, taking his hand, which he immediately squeezes back. A silent promise, that she’s going to stand with him no matter what, and she knows he feels the same.

It’s still a little early for bed, so the three move to sit outside on the balcony. She used to love coming out here after first moving into Padme’s apartment, and she’s abruptly reminded of all those months she was here only with her mother, wondering when Anakin would ever be back, if he was okay out there without her at his side.

Anakin sits between them, but Ahsoka notices that Padme also has a certain definitely unhappy air about her, even if she’s not outwardly showing it.

For a fleeting moment, Ahsoka wishes again that things could be like they used to be with her parents, before all of this changed, because of Sidious. But nothing can ever be again. maybe It can get better, but that won’t happen until Sidious is dead. She looks up, staring at the stars over head, seeing if she can pick out any constellations. There’s so many lights on Coruscant it’s hard. She tries to let herself find a moment of peace in that, the same way she used to stare up at the stars alongside Anakin on the battlefield, but she can’t seem to find that peace. Not anymore.

She wonders when she ever will again.

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lovingmattysposts · 2 months

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You don't know me 29

P1 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P26 P27 P28 P29 P30 P31

pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings:

I'll call you later tonight.

Chris's words through the phone rang in my head as I stared up at my ceiling.

"Six, seven, eight....." I counted the stars across my ceiling since they weren't actual constellations. It was easier to count them over and over than to stare at my phone and wait for a call that didn't seem like it was coming.

"Twelve" I finished.

I glanced down at my phone.

11:59 pm

One minute until 'tonight' was offically over. I swallowed as I put the phone down and looked back up at my ceiling. There’s probably a reason he’s not calling you. He didn’t forget. Maybe he was busy right now. He still loves you.

"One, two..." I trailed off and sighed closing my eyes. This was ridiculous. Pathetic.

I took in a breath, my eyes still closed. The breeze from the door of my balcony being open almost felt like the one outside from Chris and I's last date. I swallowed.

He laid against the blanket and opened his arms. I smiled before I laid against his chest and his arms closed around me. I blinked up towards the sky, before seeing the stars laid out before me.

I opened my eyes. There wasn't a breeze. Chris's arms weren't around me and I wasn't looking at the stars. The sky outside was cloudy, you couldn't see them. I already checked.

I took in a breath.

"Three, four....."

My phone buzz. I sat up and grabbed my phone

from: syd

how'd brunch with your dad go? Is he mentally stable? A serect serial killer? Criminal mastermind?

I sighed as my eyes trailed up to the time.

12:01 am

I looked off to the balcony before pushing off my bed and pushing the door closed and locking it and turning back to my phone.

to: syd

it was one brunch, how would i be able to tell if he was a serial killer?

I laid back down against my pillows.

Why did he forget to call?

Chris pov

It was quiet. It was dark here. I didn't like it. It was eerie this time of night, but the last time I came during the day and stayed for hours, a groundskeeper kicked me out. Not so gracefully after I cussed him out.

I stared down at tombstone.

Amelia Rose Smith 4-23-03 -- 7-03-19 a beloved daughter, a soul too sweet for this world gone too soon.

I swallowed. I placed new flowers beside it, but they would die soon. I didn't know if it was the first time flowers were left here since I left, or if the flowers were only empty for a few days.

Her parents moved to Flordia after her death to be closer to the rest of their family, so I don't know if anyone kept up in replenishing her flowers.

I didn't blame them for moving. In times of greif, you cling to your loved ones. The only problem was when she passed, and my greif came, the only 'loved one' I wanted to cling too was the one buried six feet in the ground.

When she first passed, I didn't leave her side. Even after the funeral, her parents left before I did. I didn't say anything. I just sat there and stared at the freshly grounded dirt, until the sun came up the next morning. That freshly grounded dirt was now overgrown with grass.

My parents didn't question me, they didn't even try to pull me away when I didn't leave the funeral.

They just let me sit here.

Like I am now.

"Chris"

"Chris." My dad shook my arm. I blinked. It was real. This was really happening. I swallowed as I glanced around the room and saw everyone staring at me. All eyes on me.

"They called your name, it's time to give your dedication" My father whispered down at me. I looked up at him. I felt like a child again. Like my dad was dropping me off at kindergarten for the first time.

I wanted to shake my head and cling to his side. But this wasn't kindergarten. This was a funeral filled with people, relatives, friends, all staring at me and they knew exactly who I was.

The boy who lost his girlfriend.

I stood up from the pew and it was silent. The only sound was the clicking of my feet as the preacher moved aside so I could stand in front of the podem.

I swallowed as my eyes glanced over the casket. The closed casket. I'm glad it was closed, I didn't know how I would have reacted if I had seen her laying there, lifeless. My gut clenched and I forced my eyes to tear away from the casket.

I turned and my eyes scanned over the filled church. Some people crying. Some not. Some looked sad, some didn't.

"Um" I cleared my throat as I stared down at my piece of paper, my hands shaking so much I couldn't even read the words. I swallowed and looked up meeting the eyes of Rose's mom.

I wanted to apologize, but I didn't know what to say. I wanted to say something along the lines of "I'm sorry I couldn't save her" but I couldn't even get the words out. I looked back down.

A tear rolled down the bridge of my nose. I quickly wiped it.

"Thank you for coming today. I know it would have meant a lot to--" My voice broke. I paused closing my eyes. I was strong. I could do this. I forced the paper still.

"Amelia was---" I paused. "Rose-" I corrected myself. It didn't feel right calling her by something I never called her before today. "She was the kindest soul in the world" I whispered, but it projected anyway. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"She was the light in my day." I said. I glanced up meeting the eyes of my parents who nodded me forward. I stifened. I set the paper down and looked up at the faces of everyone.

"I've been trying to figure out how to deal with this" I said honestly. I shook my head. "I don't know how---" I swallowed. Don't cry Chris, everyone is looking at you. I stopped taking in a breath.

"The only conclusion i've been able to come to, was that she was too good for this world, so she just went on to the next" I nodded. "She went somewhere better than this place. To a place where she wasn't struggling--where she wasn't in pain and wasn't sad" The lump in my throat kept coming back up no matter how much I kept it down.

"Selfishly, I didn't want her to go. I--I wanted her to stay here with me. I've battled with myself for days over--" I closed my eyes. I couldn’t do this.

"I'm sorry" I shook my head, I hated the way everyone was looking at me. I hated the pressure. I hated the pity looks. I hated all of it.

I didn't know how to talk about this in front of a group of people that I didn't even know or Rose never even mentioned.

I grabbed the side of the podium to keep myself standing. I looked over to her parents.

"I don't know what to say" I shook my head. Rose's mother's eyes watered and she shook her head. "If I could replace myself with your daughter in that casket, I would" I said looking at her. Her eyes closed as she took in a breath.

I hung my head as tears ran down my face. "Trust me, I would" I cried. I looked up. Everyone was staring at me, this was too much.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't---That I didn't--"

Everyone was staring at me.

I pushed off the podium before walking down the aisle and rapidly wiped my face as I pushed out of the church doors.

I felt a rain drop on my face. I looked up. It wasn't raining. I pressed my hand to my face. "Fuck" I whispered. I wiped my eyes that had produced the water. I glanced down to the dirt.

"Sorry, I know you don't like when I curse" I whispered. No response. But there was one inside me, as if she were still sitting next to me now.

It's okay Chris. It's okay to feel things, sometimes it necessary.

I took in a breath.

"I don't understand why you left me. You ruined my life. I'm mad at you, I'm mad at the---dead" I whispered the last part. Was it disrespectful to be angry with the dead? I didn't know. I was. I've been angry for a while, it's just be clouded by sadness. I just hadn't noticed.

"I got a tattoo for you" I whispered. No response. I stared at the grave. "I don't know if you would have like it. You never really liked tattoos....but I just thought---" I paused. I closed my eyes. "I thought that you might have like it if it was mine" I swallowed the lump in my throat.

This was a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. I hung my head in between my legs. "God Rose. I just......" I swallowed.

"I miss you." I whispered. I wiped my nose and looked up at her gravestone. "I feel guilty" I stated. The only sounds between me and the gravestone were the sounds of crickets chirping.

"I've battled back and forth with myself over falling in love again" I whispered. I placed my head against my knee. "I'm so scared she's going to leave me like you did. You messed me up----so bad" I swallowed.

"I heard there were stages to grief" I played with the grass inbetween my fingers. "First, Sadness. Then anger" I breathed. I looked at the stone.

"It wasn't fair for the anger to hit right as I made it to Michigan. It was suppose to be a new beginning, but I did some things I’m not proud of. I was mean. You hated mean people, Rose. You wouldn't have been proud of me" I shook my head.

I wiped my eyes and let out a long breath. I turned away from the stone.

I heard the cracking of sticks behind me. I turned quickly, getting ready to stand up and fight off another groundskeeper, but I met a pair of blue eyes that looked like mine.

I sighed and relaxed.

"I thought I'd find you out here" My dad's voice rang. I didn't say anything and stared at the stone. He groaned as he went to sit down next to me. I didn't say anything, I just kept my arms around my legs and stared down.

"You know" My dad said looking over at me. "Your mother doesn't like it when she finds your bed empty at 2 am, especially after the blow up at dinner" He spoke softly. I didn't react.

It's because I hate being here. I hate being in Boston without Rose it didn't feel right, it didn't feel like Boston.

"I didn't meant to scare her" I mumbled. He shook his head. "She's just on edge about you being home. She forgets you would do this weekly" He sighed. I furrowed my eyebrows. Why is he making me feel guilty about coming to see Rose? I shouldn't have to feel guilty.

"I like it out here better. Out here someone actually listens to me" I grumped under my breath. My dad let out a sigh.

"I don't mean to come across like I don't listen to you Chris" He turned his head to look at me. I looked up at him. "Come across? You shipped me out to Michigan when it got hard for you" I spat staring at him. He closed his eyes.

"You needed a fresh start"

"I needed parents who could comfort me"

"You didn't let us" He snapped. I glared at him. He shook his head, bringing down his tone. Silence came between us. I felt a verge of guilt come up my throat.

"I didn't mean it" I whispered. He looked over at me. I felt the guilt of my own words wash over me. I shook my head. "I was angry, I was hurting--I still am-but" I swallowed. I didn't want to cry in front of him. I never wanted to.

I usually waited until everyone was out of sight before I allowed my emotions to hit me. I was not going to cry in front of him. I took in a breath trying to contain myself.

"I love you and mom, I never wanted you think that I didn't" I whispered. I felt the power of my father's gaze.

"We never thought that, even when you said it" His arm came over my shoulders. I looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "We're you're parents. Parents take everything their child says with a grain of salt" He breathed. I sighed. That didn't make me feel any better for what I said.

"Why did you come home Chris?" He asked softly. I blinked down. "You wanted me to" I stated softly. He shook his head. "That's not why you came" He breathed. I took in a breath as I looked at the grave.

He knew me too well, it hurt.

"I have to move on" I stated blankly not looking up at my dad. He just watched and listened. "For years I’ve held Rose's death with me" I shook my head looking at her name engraved in the stone.

"And I don't want to forget about it--I never want to forget about it--her." I shook my head afraid of the misconception. I swallowed. "I just want to move on from it. I want to start breathing again" I whispered.

It's true. It's why I came home. Not for my parents, not because my father wanted me to, not because I wanted to move back here---I didn't. I guess I just didn't know that until I stepped onto Boston ground. It hit me like a load of bricks, the realization.

"You're allowed to want to move on Chris, it doesn't mean you have to forget" He breathed. I didn't move as my eyes glanced over the stone.

"I met someone" I whispered. At this point I didn't know If I was talking to Rose or to my father. Neither replied.

"I think meeting her, made every emotions I've pushed down the last 3 years come up to the surface" I whispered. My father let out a breath.

"It sounds like this girl did you a favor" He stated. I swallowed, right now it didn't feel like it.

"I'm in love with her" I stated blankly before looking up at my father. Suprise crossed his face and he blinked at me. He opened his mouth and closed it. I turned away from him. I'm not crying in front of him.

"And she's nothing like Rose" I whispered. My father shifted.

"You have to stop blaming yourself for what happened to Rose and how you process it. Chris you're allowed to move on, you're allowed to fall in love, you're allowed to live" He shook his head at me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and closed my eyes finally reeling in my emotions.

I looked up at my dad. His eyes were tired. I feel like that's what I did to people. Sucked the life out of them. I saw it in his eyes, my mother's eyes, Dan's eyes, Nate's eyes. I would die If i ever saw that look in Y/n's eyes.

"What's her name?" My father spoke and I blinked almost swearing it was Rose's voice I was hearing, not my father's. I looked down at the grave.

"Y/n" I stated. He smiled. "That's a pretty name" He whispered making me smile. "Yeah" I whispered. My father shifted before he picked up the flowers set beside the grave.

"Lilies" He smiled running his hands over the flowers. "They were her favorite flowers" I explained smiling slightly as I looked at them.

"It's funny because I would always joke that her favorite flowers were lilies, because it doesn't make sense because you know her name---" My voice tore at the last word, as I stared at the stone.

And I broke.

My body tensed at the unfinished sentence and a sob came out of my throat as uncontrollable tears came pouring out of my eyes as I cried. My body curled as I cried into my hands.

"It's okay. You're gonna be okay Chris" My dad grabbed my arms and pulled me into him. I couldn't fight him. I had no strength left in my body. I shook against his arms as I cried into his chest.

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo

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stairnaheireann · 2 years

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Brehon Law | The Senchus Mór

The Senchus Mór, is the foundation text of the most sophisticated law tradition in Europe of a thousand years ago. The body of law as a whole is often called “Brehon Law” but is properly called Fenechus, which means “that which relates to the Feine” the free classes that formed the main body of Irish society. And the authors of the Senchus were Laeghaire, Core, Dairi, the hardy, Patrick, Benen,…

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#Brehon Law #Chieftains of Ireland #Christianity #Feine #Fenechus #Nine Pillars #St Patrick #The Celtic Universe #The Senchus Mór #Twelve Constellations

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hatie · 1 month

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twelve constellations: libra

#twelve constellations #figure

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ladykailitha · 1 month

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Icarus Part 5

And here we arrive at the second post today. I'm just trying to move through my backlog so that I'm down to my preferred three ahead. Glitters is at the rut, so only a chapter or two left to write, so that's almost done. Soulmates is to filling the gaps in the "In Media Res" scene and is nearing its end, too. Which means with any luck, I'll be down to just three WIP at the end of the month: Moonlight, Boy w/a Bat, and this one.

In this chapter, we have Eddie being a menace and giving Steve and Robin the fright of their lives. And because my Steddie never take anything slow, they kiss about it.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The last spot on The Fallen’s American tour was Pasadena just to flip Dustin’s shit now that he was in Hawkin’s, Eddie was sure.

Eddie bought nose bleed seats because he didn’t want to throw Steve off of his playing. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass him and take the spotlight off their music.

He tucked his signature locks under a hat, removed his face piercings, and made sure all his tattoos were covered. He wore an Abbadon hoodie over his regular clothes and got into place in his seat.

He watched the whole show with great enthusiasm, banging along to his favorite songs.

Eddie was most of the way through the show when the twelve year old boy next to him clocked him for who he really is.

He put his finger up to his lips and winked. The boy nodded solemnly and he turned back to spectacle in front of them, like he hadn’t seen the frontman for the biggest metal band in the world sitting in the nose bleed seats for The Fallen.

Eddie lucked out on that one. Boys that age were of two schools of thought regarding secrets, either everyone knew or no one did. He stumbled on the latter.

Thank god!

He really didn’t want this to blow up on him before he got a chance to surprise Steve.

The concert was even more amazing than the one in Indy and Eddie’s skin was just thrumming with excitement as he paid off a member of stadium staff to send the flowers to the dressing room.

They let him wait in the wings without telling anyone who he was. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for Steve to get his flowers. But he wasn’t bored. He watched the roadies and techs scramble about breaking down the set pieces.

He saw two of them carrying Astraeus’s wings and they were even cooler close up. He could that they weren’t just glittery blue, but actual galaxies and constellations.

He was about to ask if he could touch them when a woman in a stylish, black pant suit and sunglasses came storming over to him in a panic.

“Eddie Munson?” she hissed. “Come with me, now!”

Eddie grinned. “Right with you, darlin’.”

He followed her all the way to the dressing room, hands in his back pockets and a skip in his step.

****

Steve was tired. Fuck he was so tired. He scrubbed his face trying to get the sweat off.

The dressing room was heavily guarded so that he could get out his getup to shower and get the patina of being on stage off of his skin.

He would get back into Abbadon before he walked out, but he just needed to be him for a moment.

He stepped out of the shower and looked around at the gifts from fans. The management had put in the ones they thought he would want to see the most.

In the pile was the most striking blue roses he had ever seen. They were almost a midnight blue. His favorite color and his favorite flower. He walked over to them slowly as he dried himself off with the towel.

There was a simple note.

“I know your secret, sweetheart.

But don’t worry, it’s safe with me.”

Steve’s hand shook as he read the note over and over again. He made a dive for his phone, towel forgotten on the floor.

He sent off a quick text to Robin.

-Find Eddie Munson, now!

He got a message back with just one word.

-How!

He replied.

-He’s here

Steve dressed and then sat down on the sofa, settling in to wait. Ten minutes later there was a knock on the door and he put the mask up to his face while the door was open, intending to lower it again. But seeing Eddie standing there with a feral grin on his face.

He wavered, unsure.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said, his grin never leaving his face. “Did you like the flowers?”

The woman looked back and forth between them in confusion. “What’s going on?”

Eddie turned to her. “You see, Robin, I figured out that Stevie here is the lead singer of an up and coming metal band. And that you two have been keeping secrets.”

Steve dropped the mask in shock, revealing his face. “How?”

Robin took off her sunglasses. “Who told? Who the fuck do I have to sue?”

Eddie smirked. “No one.”

“You’re trying to tell me,” she said with a scoff, “that Mr Double Super Senior figured out something that had been so closely guarded for the last couple of years?”

“Yup!”

Steve stood up and threw the mask on the sofa. He walked carefully over to the man he closely regarded as his best friend, the high heels of his costume clicking on the wood floor.

“How’d you do it, Eds?” he whispered when he got close enough. “How did you figure it out before the press, before our friends who are literal geniuses, before my own fucking parents?”

Eddie lifted up Steve’s jaw up with his fingers and then tapped on the two moles on the side of his neck. The ones Eddie always thought of as love bites.

“My moles?” Steve asked, unsure.

“I noticed them when I went to the concert with Dustin in Indy,” Eddie said softly. “That’s how I knew it was you.”

“Have you got some obsession with moles or something?” Robin sneered.

He shook his head. “Just Stevie.”

Steve gasped. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Robin repeated. “I’m still going to have to make you sign an NDA. I’m sorry. I know you won’t tell, but I have to be sure.”

Eddie nodded. “Send it to my lawyers.”

She nodded and slipped out of the door, barely opening it wide enough for her to exit. She put the glasses back on and decided she needed a drink. A big one. Maybe three.

****

“Sit down, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “I know how exhausting shows can be and you did it in high heels.”

Steve let out a watery chuckle but did as he was told.

“I never thought that someone would figure it out,” he said shakily. “I’m so scared right now.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. “Oh, Stevie. I didn’t think it would frighten you, otherwise I would have just kept my mouth shut.”

Steve looked him in the eyes. “I’m not frightened of you or that you would tell. It’s just that old adage of if you want to keep a secret between two people–”

“You kill one,” Eddie finished grimly. “I know, baby.”

After a few months of silence Steve whispered, “So you’re obsessed with me?”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Yeah. Have been for years.”

“How long?” Steve asked biting his lip and playing with the sleeve of his hooded coat. He looked away not sure he really wanted the answer. Was this new, because he was in a metal band? Was it recent, with Steve not being as readily available as he was before?

“Since high school.”

Steve’s head snapped up and he looked at up at him in awe. “Holy shit, Eds, that’s forever.”

A soft, fond smile spread out over Eddie’s face, his dimples deepening to sharp lines on his cheeks.

It was Steve’s favorite smile of his. And one he was learning might just be for him and him alone.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie breathed, “I know.”

They were so close, their breath mingled together, their noses brushed and Steve’s eyelashes fanned out, almost touching Eddie’s cheek.

Steve let out a gasp and Eddie closed the distance. Their lips met and Steve would swear for years to come that there were god damned fireworks. There had to be. Nothing and no one had ever felt like this. It was warm and soft and hot and sexy and bright and dark all at once. Every nerve ending lit up where just their lips touched.

And then Eddie cupped the back of his head and whatever thoughts that were in Steve’s head flew out the window. Every fear, every anxiety, every doubt went running for the hills. All he needed in this very moment was Eddie.

Until the end of time.

“Wow,” Eddie breathed when he finally managed to pull away.

Steve could only agree. “Um...can you meet me at my hotel?”

Eddie licked his lips. He wanted to take Stevie apart right then right there. But it would put Steve in danger of being discovered.

And that could not happen.

Now that he knew Steve’s secret, now that Steve was letting him in. Like all the way in, he would do anything to protect him.

“Yeah, baby,” he agreed. “I’ll meet you there. Message Celeste,” he winked, “and let her know to sneak me in.”

Steve relaxed that final increment. He kissed him fiercely. “Thanks for understanding, Eds. I love you so much.”

Eddie blushed, shoving a strand of hair into his mouth to hide his face. “Ah, sweetheart. There’s nothing to thank me for. I’d burn the world down for you if you asked.”

Steve kissed him again. “I think it’s best if I go out first and then message you when the coast is clear.”

Eddie nodded.

He was still in disguise. Only four people knew who he was. The kid, Robin and Steve, and the dude he paid to get the flowers in Steve’s dressing room.

Which Eddie would send his own team of lawyers to make sure the man didn’t so much as breathe the wrong direction.

He would then, of course meet with “Celeste” and “Abbadon” to construct the perfect cover story for Steve being on the tour with Corroded Coffin. Provided Steve said yes.

Twenty minutes later, Eddie emerged from the dressing room to see only a couple of roadies still milling around.

He blinked at one of them for a moment, but then the guy disappeared around a corner and he couldn’t be sure.

He would swear later it looked like Simon Olsen. Steve’s friend. But that couldn’t be right? Couldn’t it?

He shook himself off. He had a hotel to get to and paparazzi to dodge.

Eddie slipped into his old middle school persona. The one from before he moved in with his uncle, Wayne. The one where he could shrink in on himself.

Become... not invisible, per se. Not important enough to be worth a look at.

He removed the hoodie and handed it to fan lingering outside. He roughed up his hair, untied the shoelaces on his boots, rubbed dirt on his knees and hands.

Once his new disguise was in place, he shambled down the street and people moved right through him as if he wasn’t there.

Eddie had to fight down a grin. People were eaten up with curiosity on how he could avoid getting papped no matter where he went. And this right here was his secret. Appear homeless and no one would give a damn.

He got into position and texted ‘Celeste’ he had arrived. He took the time to smooth out his hair and stretch out his spine. Walking hunched over like that hurt as he kicked and screamed into his late twenties. Something he never thought he would reach.

He texted Jeff to let him know he wouldn’t be back to night and settled in to wait.

Soon enough he was led up through the back way and then into Steve’s hotel room.

As soon as the door closed, Steve was on him.

“Are you okay? Did anyone see you?” And then, “Why are you so dirty?”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Just a little thing I learned from dear ole dad about walking about unseen. So just let me clean up a bit and I’m all yours.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded nervously.

Eddie chuckled. “Unless you wanted to join me in the shower?” he said over his shoulder.

Steve perked right up and followed Eddie into the en suite bathroom, kicking the door closed with a grin.

****

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar au

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evermore-grimoire · 9 months

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The Evermore Grimoire: Astrology

Leo (July 23rd - August 22nd) is the fifth astrological sign in the zodiac and is represented by a lion. In Greek mythology the constellation is identified as the Nemean Lion which was killed by Heracles during the first of his twelve labours. The Nemean Lion would take women as hostages to its lair, luring warriors from nearby towns to save the damsel in distress, to their misfortune. However Heracles was able to break the impervious lion's back which in turn freed the women. Zeus (king of the gods) commemorated this labor by placing the Lion in the sky. Traits associated with Leo include being bold, intelligent, warm and courageous. As a fire sign Leo's are the natural leader of the Zodiac, ready to blaze a trail, vanquish injustice and make a name for themselves along the way. Blessed with high self-esteem, they know that they possess enviable traits, and they're proud of them. They don't believe in false modesty and will be the first to praise themselves for a job well done. But Leo isn't self-aggrandizing or unwilling to roll up those sleeves and do the work: this sign knows that in order to be respected and admired, he or she needs to put in the effort worthy of a leader. They thrive on social interactions and have no problem making friends (although pinning them down to spend time with you is another story). Leos put themselves first, and will turn down a plan that doesn't fit with their agenda or idea of fun. This trait has gained them an unfair reputation for arrogance. But on the flip side, when they choose to spend time with you, it's genuinely because they want to.

artwork by Yaroslava Apollonova

#MythEdit #MythologyEdit #Astrology #Zodiac Signs #Leo #My Edit

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millerdoc · 1 year

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#peter capaldi #randoms #jenna coleman #constellations #a portrait of scotland #pearl mackie #matt lucas #malcolm tucker #dw #twelve #12th doctor #twelfth doctor #doctor who #the doctor

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chvoswxtch · 10 months

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checkmate

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: now that frank was gone, you were left alone to your own devices. could you protect yourself if trouble came knocking at your door?

warnings: swearing, lots of angst, brief mention of bomb violence, mentions of gun violence, blood, & death

word count: 4k

a/n: buckle up, sluts (i love y'all sm). shit is about to get real. ;) but don't just take my word for it. grab a snack, a drink, & get comfy. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

9:29 pm.

The catastrophic events of today didn’t feel like they had happened just this morning. They didn’t even feel real at all. They seemed more like glimpses of a purgatory from an alternate dimension that somehow had been implanted into your head. How had your world become so goddamn unrecognizable in less than twelve hours?

Life as you knew it had unraveled right before your eyes in one fell swoop like a cruel magician’s trick. For the first time in months, you were terrified to leave your house again, and there was a gaping pit of loneliness carved out in your stomach.

Because Frank was gone, and he was probably never coming back.

Saline seared along your waterline as your last interaction with him replayed behind your glossy eyes on a loop. He had looked so detached, the usual warmth of his brown eyes snuffed out with a layer of black ice, face completely void of any emotion like a blank canvas.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

He didn’t say anything.

Every comet that flashed across his lips at one of your stupid little jokes. Every tiny gesture that brought him closer into your orbit. Every universe you discovered when he revealed more and more coveted constellations of himself to you. The asteroid he threw with his fists at the bar that night. The rockets he was always ready to launch on your behalf. The way all the planets had aligned just right when he glided with you around the dancefloor made of the stars.

All those intimate moments you carried around in your heart like a locket meant nothing to him.

You had only ever been a job to Frank, and that epiphany broke something inside you that you didn’t think could ever be fixed.

Sitting at your dining table staring off into the void of silence, it felt like you were wandering aimlessly through an abandoned forest in your mind. When was the last time you had felt so…lost? It was difficult to navigate a path when your whole world had been flipped upside down, right as you were ascending to the peak above the clouds.

Ellison had politely demanded you take a few days off, or work from home, until there was a plan of what to do next regarding your safety. He didn’t know the details of why your security detail had been pulled, but the absence of Frank’s shadow was unmistakable. It was a glaring vacancy not even the darkness could hide. Coupled with the intense gloom of dejection lingering on your face and the desolation melting from your eyes, it wasn’t a hard mystery for him to solve.

Covering your face with your palms, you suddenly felt like a little girl again, hiding under the blankets and covering your eyes to hide from the villainous shadows that lurked in the corners of your room. You remember thinking that if you couldn’t see the phantoms, they couldn’t see you, and then they couldn’t hurt you.

That logic made sense in your head at the time. Before you learned that monsters are real, and they don’t go away when you hide behind your hands.

The sharp sound of clamorous repetitive knocking against your front door echoed through the quiet and caused you to jump with a noise of surprise. Glancing over at the clock on your microwave, your brows knit together in confusion as you read the glowing digital numbers.

10:31 pm.

A second round of impatient knocks had you slowly rising from your chair, tip-toeing around the corner towards your front door as noiselessly as you could, not wanting to alert anyone on the other side of your presence. Leaning up to peek through the peephole, the perplexity weaved between your brows only grew seeing two officers standing outside your door.

Despite the advice from your gut, curiosity got the better of you, and you unlocked the two locks in place, twisting the knob on the door to pull it open slowly.

“Can I help you?”

The first officer straightened up when you opened the door, placing his weathered hands on his belt as he eyed you up and down in a way that had discomfort blooming in your lower stomach.

“You Y/N Y/L/N?”

Glancing between the icy gray eyes of the first officer and the sharp aquamarine of the second, your grip on the door knob tightened slightly.

“I am. Who are you?”

The second officer folded his arms over his chest, peering right over your head like he was searching behind you for something, or someone.

“I’m Officer Walker, this is Officer Cavella. You uh, home alone?”

Something in your gut was setting off all the warning bells and alarms in your brain. The way Officer Walker tilted his head to the side with an ominous twinkle in his eyes, and the slight mocking tone you detected in his voice made you feel like he knew that answer already. Beside him, his partner was still attempting to scope out your place over your shoulders. An eerie feeling crept up your spine, and you pulled the door slightly shut, only leaving it open enough for your frame to fit through as you attempted to keep your voice calm and unaffected.

“I’m sorry, what’s this about?”

Officer Cavella chuckled lightly as his tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, taking a bold step forward and gesturing towards you with his hand, a large Cheshire grin on his thin lips.

“Don’t worry, princess. We’re here to keep you safe. Just gonna take a look around for any trouble. Wouldn’t want anything happening to you, now would we?”

The pet name he used made your skin crawl, and you detected that same artificial sympathy that had come from his predecessor. You felt like a lamb staring down two wolves with their fangs bared in sinister smiles.

“I…think there’s been some confusion. I already have protection-”

“Had protection. After that bomb fiasco yesterday, you’re not under Anvil’s wing anymore. Right?”

Officer Walker lifted his thick brows in question, a saccharine smirk on his lips, once again daring you to challenge the answers he already seemed to have.

How did he know that? Hadn’t Billy told you Homeland was keeping the details under wraps? That the attack was reported as an accident?

An icy sense of unease caused goosebumps to prickle along your skin. There was only one way either of them would know about the bombing yesterday, and it had your heart thrashing against your ribcage furiously.

“Mr. Russo arranged alternate protection for me already.”

“They running late or something?”

Officer Cavella quipped, cocking his head to the side in an imitation of concern. But the wild look in his piercing eyes gave away his real candor. He took another daring step forward, breaching the boundary of your personal space, and bared his teeth in a crooked grin.

“Tell you what, why don’t you let us take a look around while you wait for them to show up. We can keep you company. Wouldn’t be right to leave a scared girl all by herself-”

“I’m not scared.”

The harsh edge to your voice had the pleased smirks dropping from both their faces, and you could visibly see their patience running thin. Pursing your lips, you attempted to rain in your hazardous temper before it could spark a situation you couldn’t handle alone. Clearing your throat, you brushed a piece of your hair out of your face with your finger as you focused on keeping your voice at a civil decibel.

“Listen, I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine. I don’t need either of you. Have a good night.”

A thick boot wedged itself between the frame and the door, preventing you from shutting it, and your eyes widened slightly when Officer Cavella braced his palm against the door, exerting a show of strength in forcing it back, and you along with it.

“Sorry princess, but we got orders.”

Your lips parted slightly in surprise at the intrepid intrusion, but his words piqued your interest, and your eyes narrowed slightly as you stared up at him.

“Orders from who?”

Officer Walker took a step forward and placed his arm in front of his partner to halt his movements, flashing him a warning glance before flipping a charming smile onto his lips when he turned his attention back to you.

“You know, this will really go a lot smoother if you just cooperate and do what you’re told.”

That one sentence nearly paralyzed you with dread that spread throughout your entire nervous system, threatening to shut it down completely. A sobering thought flickered in your head that if you didn’t play this smart, these men might kill you, or worse. Glancing between them frantically, your mind fought through the cortisol pumping furiously through your bloodstream, and you quickly started to formulate a plan.

Both of these men were far larger than you, and you didn’t know any self defense. They were without a doubt faster than you, and even if you made a run for it with a headstart somehow, they would catch you. You couldn’t fight, and you couldn’t run, which only left you one option.

Do your job.

Treat this like any other investigation.

Play your role, get your answers.

Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you forcefully swallowed your inner combative nature, slipping into a more appeasing version of yourself as you looked between them with a tired smile.

“Can we…start over? Today has been so hectic…and with everything going on, I’m just super on edge. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to take that out on either of you. I apologize. I…appreciate you looking out for me. Please, come in. Can I get either of you some coffee?”

The tension that had been lingering heavily in the space like a suffocating layer of smoke seemed to slowly disappear as the two men exchanged a glance in a secret language you couldn’t understand, turning to face you with their previous artificial smiles plastered on their thin lips.

“Coffee would be great.”

Officer Cavella had a sickly sweet tone to his voice, and the pleasure in his eyes from your submission turned your blood into molten lava, but you fought to keep your composure, reminding yourself that your life was potentially on the line.

On the way to the kitchen, you elusively swiped your phone and hid it behind your coffee machine, subtly pressing record on the voice memo app that was on your home screen. Once their coffees were done brewing and the machine was no longer making noise, you cleared your throat and began your interrogation.

“So, you guys must be pretty relieved huh?”

Officer Walker perked up at your words, the hand that was lifting the coffee mug to his mouth pausing in midair. He glanced at his partner curiously before looking back at you from his spot at your dining table.

“About what?”

You feigned confusion as you glanced between them with a light smile on your lips.

“The evidence that Homeland found? Mr. Russo said they found something in the bomb fragments. It’s a really good thing Mr. Price had already checked out of his hotel room. He got lucky.”

“Looks like that pretty boy doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. Wasn’t Price’s hotel room that got blown up. It was one of his escort vehicles.”

For someone that was completely giving himself away, Officer Cavella looked thoroughly pleased with himself. He seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to indirectly insult your intelligence, but he didn’t realize that by trying to prove his superiority to you, he was feeding you everything you needed to confirm your suspicions.

Conveying an expression of mock horror on your face, you braced one of your hands on the counter, placing the other dramatically over your mouth.

“I…I must have misheard him then. I-Oh my God, that’s…terrifying. I couldn’t imagine…knowing I was in danger like that.”

You pretended to shudder, leaning your back against the counter as you shook your head slowly and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Well, despite how it happened, I’m just glad they were able to pull those fingerprints from the fragments.”

“What?”

Officer Walker’s face was twisted up in puzzlement, but there was a specific emotion pooling in his eyes that caught your attention; fear.

“Yeah, I mean…they’re partials, but Mr. Russo said Homeland was pushing them through every database for a match. Didn’t they tell you that?”

Officer Cavella leaned over the dining table as he stared at you in almost a glare, his teeth bared more in a subtle snarl than a smile.

“Didn’t who tell us that?”

“Homeland. They sent you, right?”

Cocking your head to the side slightly, you attempted to feign innocence and perplexity.

“Russo sent us.”

Furrowing your brows slightly, you looked over at Officer Walker and let out a soft laugh with a shake of your head.

“He doesn’t have that authority. He only hires private contractors.”

“He put in a special request with our Captain.”

Officer Walker seemed to speak almost through gritted teeth, a light layer of warning laced through his quick reply to your incessant interrogation, but his patience was far more intact that his partner’s.

Officer Cavella was the one you could get to break, and you knew just how to get him to shatter.

Aim for his ego.

Letting out a soft hum in acknowledgment that you allowed to linger for a moment, you turned your attention to Officer Cavella, meeting his predatory gaze with an expression of indifference tied with a smile.

“You know, it actually makes sense that Homeland didn’t tell you. They don’t usually share information with anyone that doesn’t have the security clearance. I guess you boys aren’t high enough up the ladder.”

You could tell by the look in his eyes that your playful jest struck a nerve exactly as you had intended. The skin on his knuckles turned stark white from gripping so tightly onto the ceramic mug, and his jaw was clenched so hard, you thought he might crack his own mandible.

“I guarantee you we have more clearance than some gossip magazine writer.”

“Newspaper, actually. And investigative journalism, not gossip. You’d be surprised at the kind of clearance I have.”

Although you knew it wasn’t wise to inch closer towards a firecracker that was dangerously close to exploding, you were too fucking close to a lead that could expose these assholes; the first one that had been discovered in months. You couldn’t shy away now.

The fractures in Officer Cavella’s resolve were already starting to spread like an intricate labyrinth cracking through glass. You just needed to apply a little more pressure to get him to implode into guilty fragments.

Waving your hand dismissively in his direction, you glanced around your kitchen with a content sigh before facing him with an arrogant smile.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter who really sent you. They’ll have those full prints in just a few hours, and this whole thing will be over. Those cowards will finally go down, and I can’t fucking wait to cover the trial.”

There was an extra bite to your tone as you emphasized the word coward, and both of them instantly sat up straighter with squared shoulders. The neutral expression of innocence was still coveting your features like a mask, but the edges were steadily beginning to rip.

All at once there was a quick shift in the room and an unspoken aura of understanding between the three of you was swiftly forming over all of your heads like a raincloud. They suddenly seemed to sober up to the motion that you were playing them like pawns.

“There won’t be any prints.”

Officer Cavella seemed to be vibrating with anger, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Officer Walker reach to his hip to place his hand over his gun. There was a very real chance that you were about to die, but it didn’t matter.

Because you would fucking win in the end.

You just needed one of them to make that last, foolish move across the chess board.

One final move to win the game.

“Why not?”

There was no reason to bother hiding behind a facade now. That mask of innocence had been ripped wide open, and even though your hands trembled with fear, your jaw was set in defiance. Your voice was firm and accusatory, daring him to prove his “superior” intelligence to you again. It was incredibly ironic he was being outsmarted by being so fucking stupid.

As you stared Officer Cavella down in a glaring challenge, you waited for that spark to reach the edge of his temper.

And the explosion was glorious.

“Because we don’t use our bare hands you stupid bitch. You think we’re that dumb, we wouldn’t use gloves?”

Checkmate.

Officer Walker slammed his fist down on the dining table in complete frustration towards his partner.

“God damnit Cavella, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Cavella rose from his chair so fast that he knocked it backwards, glaring between you and his partner as he pointed an angry finger towards you.

“You think I’m gonna let this whore talk to me like I’m fucking stupid-”

Walker stood to his full height quickly, shoving his own chair back as he got in his partner’s face and jabbed his finger into his chest.

“You are fucking stupid! You just sold us out because you can’t control your goddamn temper!”

Cavella shoved his hand away in frustration as he scoffed, gesturing towards you again.

“Whatever, we’re gonna kill the bitch anyway-”

“No. He wants her alive. If we bring her back with one scr-”

“Who?”

Both of them turned to face you as your voice rose in volume to cut above their bickering. There wasn’t a single cell in your body that wasn’t infected with anger, and you were struggling to contain your own rage.

“Who wants me alive? Who’s the fucking pussy behind the curtain leading the rest of you around?”

Cavella swiftly pulled the gun from the holster on his hip as he took a step towards you, cocking the hammer with his thumb while snarling at you.

“Keep running that fucking mouth of yours and you won’t get to solve that mystery, Nancy Drew.”

As you went to retaliate, you noticed a shadow flash past the window in your kitchen, and your brows knit together in confusion. You were too pissed off to even be afraid as you glanced between Cavella and Walker.

“Who’s outside?”

Walker instantly stilled his advance at your words, his grip tightening on the handle of his gun that was still tucked into his holster while looking over at you in skepticism.

“What?”

“I just saw someone outside. Is that your fearless fucking leader? You gonna show your face like a man?! Or hide in the dark like a fucking p-“

Walker tugged you backwards roughly by your arm when you went to storm towards the window, clamping his hand tightly over your mouth to cut off your furious yells. His icy gray eyes were wide with apprehension as he hissed.

“Shut up. No one is with us.”

Glancing over at his partner, he silently motioned with his head towards him to go investigate. Cavella slowly began to approach the window with his gun in his hands, loosely aimed at whatever target he was about to discover.

All of a sudden the sound of shattering glass pierced the silence, and your eyes widened seeing a metal canister rolling against the tiled floor of your kitchen. It exploded into a thick fog of ivory smoke that steadily began to fill the small space. Cavella began firing blindly through the gaping hole in your window, and you took the opportunity to run while Walker was distracted and yelling at his partner.

You could hear Walker’s heavy footsteps pounding on the floor behind you, yelling your name, and you screamed when a bullet whizzed by your head and punched through the drywall in front of you.

The second you reached your bathroom, you attempted to slam the door shut, but Walker caught the spine of your door and wedged it open with his hand. Turning around, you forced all your body weight back against it, struggling against his dominant strength. Glancing around in a frenzy, you reached your foot out towards the counter of the sink in front of you, and with a surge of adrenaline, you let out a feral scream as you shoved both of your feet forward against the sink to give you momentum against the door. A satisfying crunch sounded in your ears as Walker howled in pain and retracted his broken hand, causing the door to finally slam shut behind you. You swiftly twisted the lock into place on the door before backing away.

The sound of bullets raining down in rapid succession had you covering your ears and squeezing your eyes shut as you attempted to breathe. Your lungs burned from running as fast as you ever had in your life, and with anxiety overflowing in your bloodstream, you were on the brink of hyperventilation.

“Who the fuck are y-”

Bang bang.

The echo of two bullets cracking through a skull you could only assume belonged to Walker had your breath hitching in your throat. Muffled through the sound of your own labored breathing, you could hear his body drop to the floor just a few feet away from the door with a heavy thud. Your eyes went wide with terror as the thundering roar of heavy footsteps began to slowly strike closer and closer outside the door.

No.

This isn’t how this ends.

This is not it.

Eyes frantically darting around your bathroom for something to use as a weapon, they landed on the horrified reflection of your own face. There was a small cut above your eyebrow from where a shard of glass had nicked you that was actively bleeding. Your pupils were completely blown wide open with hysteria, and your waterline was shimmering with unshed tears. You hadn’t seen yourself look this small and broken since you were a child.

Without thinking, you smashed your fist against the glass, sending hazardous shards falling into pieces in the sink like shiny raindrops. Grabbing the biggest one, you didn’t even flinch when it sliced deeply into the meat of your palm, and you only sent the jagged edge further into your skin as you clamped your fingers around it tightly, slicing them in the process. Your brain barely registered the warm, wet feeling of blood starting to cascade from the wounds on your hand, dripping onto the floor below you steadily like a leaky faucet.

Staring at the door in front of you in complete terror, you held the makeshift weapon out in front of yourself. The way the lights above you caught the reflection of the glass everytime it shook in your hand caused spheres of white to dance along the bathroom walls, as if there were a mirrorball on the ceiling.

As soon as the threatening shadow appeared right underneath the door, you willed the last shard of strength in your body to take over.

“Stay the fuck back! I have a gun, and I swear to God I will shoot you!”

Panic trembled in your voice almost as much as it did in your hands. On the other side of the door you heard a faint rustling noise, and then there was a gentle tapping of knuckles quietly knocking against the wood, accompanied by a voice you would recognize anywhere.

“Sweetheart?”

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