#iindecent

❝ Are you fucking me? ❞ he said underneath his breathe at the sight of Libby kissing someone else. It took him seconds to see red. Rage would be an understatement of an emotion; he was furious. Libby was his. It didn’t matter what the state of their relationship. She would be his no matter what happened between them. His actions were instant, pulling the pair a part before throwing the man to the ground,  ❝ Get the fuck off of her. Why are you touching her, she’s mine. ❞ The confusion on the other male’s face was apparent, but Mason didn’t care to get any insight to what he had to say before connecting his fist to his jaw. He had no problem beating him to death in front of everyone. It was clear the second he straddled his chest and began pounding him.  ❝ Mason stop! ❞ Libby’s words were falling on deaf ears. Her protests didn’t mean anything because he didn’t care why this was happening. He needed to expel his rage physically and this stranger was his punching bag. It took the strength of two other men to pull Mason off of him. It didn’t stop Mason from spitting on the male as they dragged him away, ❝ Fuck you. ❞ He yelled, not caring if anyone at this party happened to judge him. Libby’s embarrassment had her pulling him away from the scene, ❝ Mason. To the car, now. ❞ She’d deal with him later. 

finnegan didn’t like the semi-annual bake sale. of course he wouldn’t admit it, not audibly, but it often showed on his face. for a priest, he had a hard time not shedding his natural expression that his little sister maggie called his resting bitch face. there was also the fact that it had been a week since he ‘broke up’ with greer, as deacon campanelli called it, because of course all the pastoral associates had to gossip about it once they heard father stokely got his ass handed to him by their bishop. he felt like he was a little boy again, the awkwardness and tension that followed whenever he got in trouble at school. most of the parishioners didn’t know, or at least he didn’t think they did, but every spare glance towards him made him wonder if they were all talking about his sin. he didn’t want to feel paranoid in his own church, especially since there was no sin to speak of, but he had to carry on with his duties despite how much he didn’t want to be there. the third problem? greer was there. no, that wasn’t the problem, it was that greer was there with her husband. the man that made finn wish their religion allowed murder. he was far across the room, but he couldn’t stop stealing looks towards their table full of baked goods. he was intending on avoiding her and her husband, in fact he didn’t plan to even be within twenty feet of them, until frickin’ martha rayburn called him over that way. martha’s table right next to greer’s, it was impossible to avoid them. “martha,” he greeted the other woman with a smile, then nodded towards greer and adam, “hello, everyone. everything looks great over here.” looking over martha’s table, he smirked briefly at the cherry tarts she always brought, wishing he could joke with greer about it. he looked to the blonde, “what’d you make?” he doubted adam had any part of it.