#maybe i’ll post the graphic i liked later

[mads-is-tired]

what’s up gang it’s 3am and i’ve just finished my assignment due at midnight last night, of which i have to present today :)

i once again left everything too late and my model is very mid-tier but! look at this dude in my building!!!!

[luveline]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

When someone hurts you, you and Aaron both need time to get better, and to put things right. fem, 8k

cw canon typical violence, graphic scenes and imagery of assault/battery, recovery, mentions of being sick, issues eating. established relationship, lots of angst and comfort, hotch being vulnerable, jack being sweet 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

You lay backward over the luxurious stretch of the couch and sigh as your spine gives a sharp crick. Your head feels heavy after a long shower, your arms ache from a day at work, but the feeling of soft cotton on your legs deters any moping. 

I hope these are more comfortable, his note read, a white post it note stuck to a boutique bag. You wrap an arm around your waist remembering how Aaron’s message had made you feel: spoiled, and considered. 

You’d mentioned in passing that all your pyjamas are old and rough as a consequence, thought nothing of it, and promptly forgot about the conversation entirely. 

When Aaron finally comes home tonight, you’re going to give him a proper thank you. You can imagine his reaction to such a thing, his smile as he says it’s no problem, his eyes shuttering closed as you press a kiss to his cheek. You hadn’t realised how prevalent affection would become in your life after meeting him, but everything he does inspires love. Awful, soft, marshmallowy love where he looks at you and you want to sit in his lap. 

You slide your phone up your chest lazily and click the button on the side to light the display. Aaron hasn’t claimed to know when he’ll be home tonight. All he’d said was to let yourself in. 

It’s odd but not the worst thing in the world to be alone in his apartment. There’s less and less free space each time you visit as Jack begins to outgrow his and his fathers lodgings, but there’s never a stain or bad smell, the Hotchner apartment feels homey. You’re excited whenever you’re invited to spend the night with them. 

Maybe some time soon he’ll ask you to move in, or better, to marry him. You’re not a hundred percent sure how you feel about marriage, about being someone’s wife, but there’s a great well of pleasure to be found in the idea that Aaron would want to marry you. He makes you feel loved already in a hundred different ways but the ring might be nice, like a symbol to signify how much you mean to him. 

You rest your hand across your eyes. It’s silly to think of. Sillier to want so soon. You’ve been together for just under a year, and you have no false hopes about rushing into the future, but it’s certainly a future you want with him (and with Jack, too). He’s taking things slowly for a hundred different reasons but he loves you, and gifts like your new pyjamas cement that. He really listens to you. 

Your phone rings a moment later. 

You smile at the screen. It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves you too. 

“Hey,” Aaron says when you answer, his voice warm even through the phone, “I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“How come?” You sit up with a little start. 

“It’s getting late, honey. I called Jess and Jack was already gone.” He doesn’t say anything further. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I wanted to hear your voice, I think.” 

“Well, where are you?” You struggle to envision him speaking saccharinely like this where his colleagues could hear him. He’s nice to you often, but he’s a reserved man. 

“I’m just,” —a crunching sound of metal, the trunk of his car closing— “about to get in the car. I’ll be home before ten. Can I have you until then?” 

“I don’t see any reason to say no. But do you think you could come home a little faster? I have a crick in my neck.” 

“And you want me to fix that?” 

“You always fix my neck.” 

“How have you done it?” There’s a sound you assume to be the car door closing, but you can’t hear anything beyond that. 

“I have bad posture.” 

“You have perfect posture.” 

“No, it’s quite bad.”

He laughs loudly. It took some time to draw the humour from him but he isn’t as stony as you’d think, and for a while he didn’t have much worth laughing for, anyways. Whenever you hear it, you try to prompt it twice. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, Aaron, it’s just like when you said my weird rash wasn’t weird.” 

He laughs again, to your pleasure. “It wasn’t weird, it was a heat rash, I promise. You act like you’ve never seen heat rash.” 

“One of us goes to hot cities all the time and one of us lives permanently in Virginia.” 

“What are you talking about? Virginia’s far from cold. You’re being argumentative, I can see your smile in my head. I’m never going to fix your crick if you keep acting like that.” 

“No, don’t be like that,” you laugh, tipping back into the cushions. “You’re always such a sore loser.” 

“What did I lose?” 

You can tell from his tone that you’ve promised yourself one of those hugs that borders on a straight jacket tightness, his face tucked into your neck as he asks you to repeat yourself. What did I lose? he’ll ask again, kissing your chin, the line of your jaw. Tell me clearly.  

“It hurts,” you say honestly, “please don’t be mad. I really need one.” 

“I’m not mad… I’m going under the overpass, my signal might cut out.” 

“Okie dokie. Hey, did you eat? I can make you something for when you get home. I got groceries.” 

“I’m not hungry, but you can make yourself hot cocoa, and I’ll drink it when I get there,” he says. 

“Or I could make us both some?” 

“It’s much more fun if I drink yours before you can, honey. You know that—”

You pause in the quiet, then hear a quick beeping. You pull your phone from your ear and find the call disconnected. 

Cruel overpass, you think. 

Sure he’ll call you back, you take your phone into his kitchen and set about finding all the things you’ll need for hot cocoa. One mug, because you should hate when he forces you to share, but you love the feeling of his fingers on yours as he takes it and the thankful kiss he dots on your cheek. 

The kettle is uncomplicated. You toy with the stovetop, set the kettle on the burner, and let the temperature rise. It begins whistling lightly a mere thirty seconds later. 

You click your phone on again. He’ll have passed through the tunnel now and will be calling you back any minute. You stare at the phone, hoping to summon him, slouched over the counter with the tin of cocoa powder by your fingers. The kettle whines with growing heat, but cool air kisses your back. 

Goosebumps rise. Up and down the lengths of your arms, the back of your neck—

A sudden chill. 

The lack of air comes before the hand, the pain a rush, a burst to be away from. Leather on your neck creaking without sympathy as a hand tightens and drags your body back against something hard. 

Not Aaron. Your scream comes strangled under cruel fingers as you fight to move forward again, straight for the burner, the kettle shoved across the burner grate and exploding with scalding water, heat of the burner kissing your chest— you scream, only it’s worse than a scream, sound from the deepest part of you forcing itself past the heat at your neck as you try to fling yourself away from the pain. 

You fall with a hard clout. “Stay still!” comes out enraged against the back of your neck. You drop to your knees, the pain lighting flaring up your chest, your gaze frantic as you search for a flame that isn’t there. You’re not on fire, you’re crawling and then scampering up into a standing position when the heavy weight drops itself on you again and smashes your face into the floor. 

All your fight leaves you. Your ears ring. Your panic wanes but the pain stays alert in your mouth. 

A hand grabs you by the back of the head and drives your face into the ground. It’s like light in your eyes and your nose, the brunt of it, the crack of your bone and the hot trickle of blood that swiftly follows. You gurgle in pain, spluttering and gagging against the linoleum, waiting for Aaron to turn you over and say sorry. It’s an accident.

Blood drains from your nose in spurts to match your racing pulse, so much blood you can see your eyes reflected in the dark stretch of it. Water drips down the front of the stove, your breath aches and begs, and your attacker takes a measured breath. 

He flips you over. You can’t slide away, there’s nothing left in you, your head a second body as he raises something. 

Your phone rings on the counter. 

“Please, don’t,” you plead with a sob.

You pass out as the pain connects. Just as quickly as it started, your body takes the reins. 

—

There’s a strange darkness waiting for you. Like waking before your alarm and stealing those last minutes, body aching, not wanting to get up and face the day. Aaron gets up early every morning, sometimes as early as four AM, and whenever you get up with him your eyes hurt for hours. 

Nothing, nothing, nothing. 

Hey, hey, I think your boyfriend’s coming.

What will he make of my handiwork?

You didn’t stay awake long enough for that one, did you? But you’re waking up now.

The pain is enough to wake you up again, a hot drag down the side of you to your hip and in. You aren’t aware of the sounds you make, but you can hear them. Your panicked squealing as the heat presses further and further in. Your crying, and your whispering, “Stop, stop.” 

“There’s handsome,” the dark voice says. “I’ve gotta go hide somewhere, does he carry after hours? I think I’ll find out.” 

“Oh,” you say, feeling sickly. You attempt to curl into yourself, when did you turn onto your back? “No,” you mumble, lips wet with something hot. 

“Honey?” a voice asks. 

“Honey,” you repeat, woozy again, darkness falling in all over again, where it stays. 

Honey, are you in here?

—

The window behind Aaron’s shoulder is cold. Rain patters fast like floods, thunder occasionally chewing through clouds, and Jack Hotchner cries sluggish tears into his dad’s shoulder. 

Aaron has his eyes closed. They’ve been at this for a while. “Shh, shh shh, buddy,” he says softly, patting the bottom of Jack’s back. He’d sway him back and forth if his arms weren’t about to fall off. 

Jack squirms closer, no room left between them. 

“I know it’s scary,” Aaron says. 

Jack just cries. This approach of quiet support isn’t working; Jack isn’t a baby that needs to be put to sleep, he’s a panicking little kid, and Aaron needs to change gears. He ushers him away from his chest and crosses his arm behind Jack’s back. Careful, he shifts Jack’s weight to free his other arm and brings his fingers up to the silky brown hair dropping onto Jack’s forehead. 

“She’s okay,” Aaron says, stroking Jack’s hair. His little forehead is clammy. “She’s not hurting. I know it looks scary, honey, but… she’s just resting.” 

Jack looks him in the eyes. “Her face.” 

“I know.” He nods emphatically. “It’s hard to see. Blood isn’t nice. You don’t have to see her again today, not if it’s too scary.” 

Jack lifts a hand to Aaron’s face. Clumsy but with clear attempts to be careful, he wipes at the skin under Aaron’s eye. Aaron bites back a smile. 

“I look tired,” he says. 

“Yeah.” Jack brings his hand back to wipe his eyes. He sobs as he does it. Aaron can’t describe the ache it gives him to see it. 

“Buddy, I’ll do it. Let me wipe your face. I can do it.” 

Jack drops his hands. Aaron turns his hand and wipes the smudge of Jack’s tears from hot cheeks, testing the waters with a little smile. 

“I couldn’t see you under all those tears.” 

Jack does a little smile back. “Yes you can.” 

“I couldn’t! But now I’ve wiped all your face I can see you again. You’re handsome, did we know that?” 

Jack giggles. He sniffles, and he presses his palm to Aaron’s neck. “I don’t want her to be sad, dad.” 

“She’s going to be sad, because something scary happened, but it’s okay. I’m gonna take care of her.” 

Aaron would offer to take him home, but they can’t go home. They may not go home for a long time —the team is still trying to work out how someone made it into the apartment without alerting the building’s security or Aaron’s internal system. And then escaped again without Aaron’s notice. Until then, Aaron has to make a decision about a safe house, for himself, Jack, and Jess, though she's extremely unreceptive to the idea. 

Aaron has to look after Jack, and he needs to take care of you. 

“What do you think, bud?” he asks, cupping Jack’s head in his hand. “Do you want to go home?” 

“You said I can give her a hug.” 

“If it’s too scary, we don’t have to. I don’t want you to get upset again.” 

“I’m not scared. I want to give her the hug,” he says. 

Aaron pulls him in for a hug of his own. “Okay, buddy. Just try to think of it like this. She’s where she needs to be to get better. Everybody here is looking after her. She’ll be okay soon.” 

Aaron looks over Jack’s head down the hospital hallway. It’s a quiet ward, and here between the main ward doors and the hallway that leads down to the individual rooms there’s complete silence. Night is approaching quickly again, and with it comes Aaron’s panic. Your head turned into a puddle, your face lax of expression in the dark. He can’t stop finding the women he loves bloody and on their backs. 

“Ready?” he murmurs. “Can you walk with me? My arms are tired.”

“Yeah.” 

Aaron puts Jack down gently onto his feet. He neatens his hair, chucking him under the chin as he goes to see his smile. He’s so pretty, like Haley was, with shiny eyes. He’s a beautiful kid. Aaron takes his hand and together they make their way down the hallway to your room. 

You’re sleeping. 

Aaron herds Jack through the door and to the plastic covered chair by your side, where he lifts him up and sits him down. He stays between you both. Jack isn’t scared of you, just the blood, but he wants to show Jack that he’s going to protect him from anything he needs protecting from. He also desperately wants to touch you, and reassure himself that you’re still breathing. 

He looks for your hand. Your pinky finger is splinted, but he can take it with care, give the palm of it a squeeze. 

The blood matted in your hair has finally been washed away after a turbulent day, as well as the staining that marred your face. Your nose is broken, and looks it, the bruises so fierce your eyes have turned puffy and your top lip has inflamed. There are second degree burns in multiple places but most affectedly on your chest. There’s a stab wound at your hip, allegedly done with a small blade. It nicked your small intestine. The bandages laid over you are a lump under your hospital gown. 

Aaron looks at you, and he feels a passionate disdain for himself. He wishes he could… be someone else. Someone who doesn’t have such a deep connection to a job that hurts the people around him, over and over. Haley used to say he was obsessed with being the hero, but this doesn’t feel heroic. 

“Do you wanna give her your cuddle?” he asks softly. 

Jack stays sitting. 

He’ll have to give it to you himself. Careful, Aaron leans down over your prone body and presses a half kiss to your ear, the only place that won’t hurt. 

You have an IV drip going into your arm, painkillers, an ECG monitor to the left. The room is white but busy, you’re a burst of colour against it all, your cuts and bruises, the evidence of violence he can’t remove. Aaron’s tired. He perches on the gap of bed by your leg and holds your hand, turning to Jack, who watches with a frown. 

“She’s sleeping,” Aaron says. 

“When can she come home?” 

“In a few days.” He feels the pad of your hand, terrified of your broken finger but needing to hold a part of you. 

“Why is she sleeping all day?” 

Traumatic experiences are exhausting. “I think she might want to be alone, so she sleeps.” 

“Should we go?” 

Aaron shakes his head. “I think we should stay. When she wakes up again she’ll be happy to see us, because we’re not strangers.” 

“We’re family,” Jack says. He’d liked that, when the nurse asked you how Aaron was related to you. Family only.

“We’re her family,” Aaron agrees. 

If he somehow miraculously fell out of love with you, you’d still be family to them. You’ve given so much of your heart since you met them. Aaron wants everything you have to give. 

You wake in a slow, slow upheaval. It takes effort on your part, the opening of sore eyes, the dreary decision to face your pain. Your hand jumps in his but relaxes when he shushes you, your slimmer fingers stilling under his rubbing thumb. For a split second, you keep your gaze half-lidded, jaw soft, like you’ve been indulging in a stolen nap. 

Then your breath catches and you screw your eyes tightly. 

“You’re okay,” he says, quietly, and not as lightly as he means to, “you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” in quick succession. 

“Hurts,” you say, and gasp, a whine stuck in your throat. 

He doesn’t know what to do. Jack shouldn’t watch this but he can’t leave you alone. “It’s okay,” he says, holding your wrist to stop it climbing up your bruised face. 

You were worse the first time you woke up. Catatonic, then sobbing. You mumble and whimper now, pain threading goosebumps down your arms. 

“It hurts too much,” you say. A sob falls out of you like you’ve been ripped open. 

Aaron doesn’t think, but an instinct sparks. The pain, to hit you right out of the gate like this, to make you say something like that when you’ve always always made your problems small, must be torture. It must feel new and sudden all over again. 

Aaron checks that Jack is alright and leaves the room. He looks down one hallway and then the other, but there’s no nurse around —he races to the reception desk and begs the two nurses there for help with you, “She’s in intense pain,” he says, grasping the desk. 

The nurse he’s more familiar with clears her throat. “Mr. Hotchner, she’s already had enough motrin for two people at your request, she really shouldn’t need–”

“Pain is just as important to treat as the injury.” 

A second nurse puts her salad down with raised brows. “Do you want to overdose her?” 

“Excuse me?” 

Aaron has always seen himself as a gentleman, but the argument that ensues is tricky to navigate while remaining respectful, and he’s no closer to better treatment for you by the end of it. He gives each nurse a disapproving glower and takes his phone from his pocket, turning on the spot, ready to call whoever it is he needs to call for a second opinion. He’s not gonna listen to you cry when there’s no need. 

He pushes the door open with the phone still clutched in his other hand. Jack’s climbed onto your bed. He cuddles your face, sitting by your pillows and bent over you protectively. 

Aaron lets out a breath. 

“It’s okay,” he says, his arm behind your head and his arm on your shoulder. “W’gonna take care of you.” 

“I know,” you say, crying without sound, shaking under his arms.

His cheek smushes against your forehead. Your eyes are closed and your face braced for contact Jack doesn’t make, careful not to hurt you as he rubs his cheek into your skin. Your blankets are falling off of you from the squirming and your bruises shine with tears in the light, but Jack has calmed you down some. 

Aaron shouldn’t have left Jack with you. He’s been so scatterbrained since he found you when he should be the opposite, but Jack is doing better than Aaron managed alone. 

“I’m sorry for crying,” you say slowly. “I’m hurting, but it’s not bad. I’m okay.” 

“That’s good. You have a big scratch on your face, and bruises.” 

“I know.” 

“Dad says you have a bruise on your tummy too.” 

“I got lots of bruises, but it’s okay. Don’t worry about me.” You bring your hand up injured and uncaring to rub his leg. “You’re being a really brave boy, thank you.” 

A tear rolls down your cheek. 

“It’s teamwork,” Jack says. “I hug you and you hug me.” 

“Is that what you want? You want a hug?” 

“I want to go home,” he says, hugging you harder. 

You grasp his arm loosely where it’s just under your chin. “Jack, can you move your arm?” you whisper. 

Your breath comes quickly, but Jack moves his arm away from your bruised neck and you try to calm yourself down. 

Aaron jolts himself back into action. “Sweetheart,” he says, rushing to sit Jack back and give you more space. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

He watches. Not sure what to say. Not sure saying anything is wise. You squint at him through your lashes, eyes opening slowly, your mouth a line pressed hard to stop from crying. 

“I think it's time for Jack to go home,” he suggests gently. 

“Yeah,” you say, eyes swimming with tears. 

“No.” Jack squeezes your head again, to your panic. 

“Jack, buddy, please don’t touch her neck,” Aaron says, grabbing Jack from your pillow. 

He erupts into tears again. Frantic and vying for you, Aaron tries to calm him and he kicks against his chest, tears turning to disgruntled sobs at not getting what he wants. You wince, pressing your face completely into the pillow. 

Aaron carries Jack from your room, phone in hand. 

—

Is she breathing? Can she talk? 

I don’t– I don’t know, I don’t– She’s breathing. Honey, can you hear me? I don’t know what to stop. I don’t know where it’s all coming from. 

Where’s the worst of the blood? 

It’s everywhere. 

Abdominal? Chest? 

I can’t tell. I can’t tell. 

Mr. Hotchner, you can’t panic. Does she have a chest wound?

Yes. Yes, but– 

Is she conscious? How’s her pulse? Be ready to start chest compressions. 

Honey, can you hear me? 

Your name said clearly. 

“Hey, can you hear me?” 

“Yes,” you murmur. 

“If you need a minute, that’s okay.” 

You cover your mouth with your hand. Emily Prentiss has a soft voice like your boyfriend’s when she wants to have it. She’s never spoken to you like this, none of his colleagues have, but since the incident, everybody treats you like you’re made of glass. 

Cognitive interviews are meant to happen immediately after an accident, but you weren’t up for company. Aaron promised this would be on your terms, that Emily is the most practised, and that she’s reaped the most information from them than the rest of the team. So far, it’s worked to drag bad memories to the surface. 

“Maybe we should start from the beginning.” 

There isn’t a beginning. There’s just conversation. Aaron’s hand on your heart and his shaky voice, so unlike him.

“Okay.” 

Emily reaches for your hand. She smiles, and her nice features get nicer. That’s another thing they all share, good looks. “Okay. What did you notice, in the kitchen? It’ll help if you close your eyes,” she reminds you. 

You close your eyes. 

“What stuck out?” 

“Nothing,” you murmur. “I’ve been in there lots of times, and nothing ever changes.” 

“Nothing? Not even the drawings on the fridge?” 

“Jack’s particular about his best work, even if I think they should all be on display.” 

Emily’s voice turns to a shard of itself. “What did you do? Can you take me through it step by step? Make yourself a cup of hot chocolate.” 

“I never got that far.”

“What did you do?” 

“I filled the kettle.” 

“What kettle?” 

You don’t understand the need for specificity, but you answer. “Aaron got it for me, when he… he told me he loved me, and when we got home he’d bought me a kettle and a bunch of stuff to make my being there easier. The kettle, because… he said something about superheated water. How the microwave can be dangerous, and this would be easier than a pan.” 

“Alright. Okay, and what did you do after that?” 

“I put the kettle on the stove.” You lit the burner, and heat kissed your palm, and suddenly the room had felt cold. “I got goosebumps.” 

“When?” 

“The kettle started to whistle, and it was cold.”

“And then–”

“Then he grabbed me.” 

“Yeah,” Emily says softly. 

You touch your nose. “I tried… He didn’t feel like a person. He didn’t feel like someone I was fighting, it was just painful.” 

“Like he was quick on his feet?” 

“He was silent. I didn’t hear him until I made him fall.” 

“How big did he feel?” 

Your stomach churns. Big. He’d felt big. 

Where’s the worst of the blood?

“He said he was going to hide,” you remember. 

“He said that? He said ‘hide’?

“Yeah. And he asked me if Aaron carries after hours.” 

“When was this?” 

It’s a headache. You try to remember more, because that’s what they need right now. If you ever want to go home, if you want Jack to go home, you need to remember more. The BAU are good, but nobody can make a map out of slivers. 

“That was at the end,” you say. 

“After he stabbed you?” 

You wince. “Yes. After.” 

“You’re doing so good,” she praises, “I just want to fill in the gaps.” 

“I can’t remember. I was unconscious.” 

“When Hotch found you?” 

“No, before.”

“Before?” she asks. 

You’re sick of sitting there with your eyes closed. Sick of your hands shaking with nowhere to hide them, and sick of feeling sick, your nausea as present as the stinging pain of your burned wrist against your sleeve each time you move. 

You open your eyes and look around the conference room for something interesting. How nice would it be to think of something else for a few minutes?

“He called it handiwork when he cut me. Asked if I thought Aaron would like it,” you say, bordering monotonous as your gaze fizzles, unfocused, across the room. 

“Okay, Y/N. Okay. I know you’re tired.” She reaches for your hands to squeeze at the same time. “You did really well. Any details at all are details we can use to find him.” 

You’re not in the mood for talking anymore. Tears burn your eyes, waiting for a blink to set them loose. 

“I want to see Aaron,” you confess quietly. 

“I’ll find him for you.” Emily stands but bends, the dark of her hair a contrast to her pale face. She’s lovely, and her hand is gentle on yours. “Are you okay? Can I get you something to eat?” 

So Aaron’s not keeping that to himself. “I want to see him, please.” 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

This is a horrible room. It’s not their fault, but the big white board is tacked with bad photos of grisly cases —currently your own. You stare at a photograph of your blood in the kitchen and don’t know what to do. Should you look away? You hadn’t realised you bled so much. 

You turn your chair toward the door. Emily looks back as she leaves and smiles at you softly, but your eyes are already moving to the smaller dry erase board by the doorway. It’s ‘Hotch’s turn to clean up on Thursdays. How strange that they make the boss clean the conference room. 

You can picture him picking up coffee cups and wiping down the table. You can always picture Aaron. 

You can see him hovering over you, his hand pressed to the bloody mess of your hip to stop the blood. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper to yourself, wanting to break from the memory, following Aaron’s example. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” You repeat it into your hands, head tilting down. You sink until your knuckles touch your knees. 

That’s all he says when you panic. He’ll say it over and over again until you can breathe right. I have you, I have you, you’re okay. 

He’s much quieter this time. You hear his footsteps, his familiar gait, your head pounding too hard to move. Aaron makes a sound between a sigh and a hum, like he’s saying a sorry hello as he kneels in front of you. His hand takes your face, rubs softly over your ear. 

“My head’s just hurting,” you murmur. 

He doesn’t respond. You sit together for some time as your mind races with bad memories, your fear a rush of goosebumps down the lengths of your arms and thighs. It’s hard not to think about what happened, mostly because you’re still a walking bruise, your stitches sting when you move, the blisters on your chest ache, all of it inescapable. But it’s your anxiety that plagues you most. You’re in a constant state of dread. 

You had no idea someone could hurt you as badly as they had until it happened, and now you’re desperate not to be hurt again. 

“You have to look after me,” you say eventually, throat sore with how awful it feels to say. 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Please don’t let me get hurt again.” 

Total silence. You sniffle at his lack of an answer, only slightly comforted by his hands at your wrists now, pulling them from your face. “Let’s sit up,” he says, standing himself. “Come on, let’s sit up. You shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on your abdomen.” 

You lean back and everything aches like a stretch after a long run or a bad night’s sleep. 

Aaron pulls a chair next to yours. When he sits, your knees are pressed in between one another’s thighs, so close he could hug you. You might need one.  He’s given you a ridiculous amount of them each day, some for him and some for you. 

He has with him a takeout box and a bottle of water. 

“Here,” he says, popping the seal of the drink. “Three sips.” 

You feel like crying, but you drink. He opens the takeout box to reveal a normal looking sandwich already cut into two halves, but he takes a plastic knife from his pocket, peels away the wrapping, and cuts the sandwich again into quarters. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you say. 

“No, you’re not. You won’t be.” He presses the sandwich flat with his hands and holds it to you until you take it. “Please, Y/N. You only have to eat what you can.” 

“I don’t want it.” 

“Please.” 

“Did Emily tell you about my interview?” 

He reaches for your thigh. Mildly unlike him when you aren’t at home. You assume it to be a tether for your sake. “No. Is there something you think I should know?” 

“I don’t want to say it again.” 

“Then you don’t have to. Someone will tell me when I get back.” 

You pinch the fluffy bread in your hands, eyeing wearily at the wet insides. “Can I come with you?” 

“You’re having trouble in the cognitive interviews, you won’t want to hear what we have to say.” 

You split the sandwich in half again, watching as salad and mayonnaise ooze from the bread. 

“If you don’t eat, you won’t get better,” he says, a touch stern. 

“I can’t eat when you won’t let me come with you.” 

“I’m not the only person capable of protecting you. I…” He circles your wrist before you can make a mess. “Can you please eat it?” 

You take a bite to appease him, your stomach roiling, food wet and cold on your tongue. You eat the whole quarter queasily, a lump at the back of your throat begging you to stop. 

Aaron takes an empty hand and rubs it tenderly. “Thank you,” he says, that rubbing turned more forceful, his hand journeying to your elbow and back again. 

It’s sweet how attuned he is to your needing his touch, but mortifying. This entire experience had been embarrassing from start to end. Couldn’t defend yourself, can’t get to grips with it, and can’t keep anything down. Aaron looks at you and your bruises and you wonder if he’s seeing you with blood matted in your hair, or hearing you beg for him to get you something stronger. All you’d wanted was a sedative. 

“I’m far from the only person capable of protecting you,” he says. 

“You saved me,” you say. You mean it in every sense of the world. 

“…This is my fault.” 

“I want to be with you,” you say honestly. “I don’t feel okay by myself right now, I just need you, or I feel so sick I wish that I died.” The anxiety is marrow deep. 

Aaron looks gutted. “Don’t say that.” His hand goes back to yours, back to tenderness. “I know you're scared.” 

“Then why won’t you listen?” you ask weakly. 

“I’m listening to you,” he says, his tone a dulcet, pleasing softness you’ve never ever heard before, “I need you to be safe, and I need Jack to be safe, and I can’t do that while he’s still out there.” His brows pinch together, agonised. “I’m sorry you’re scared. I didn’t protect you. But I won’t let anything happen to you again.

“I love you. Please believe that I’m doing what’s best for you right now.” 

You turn your head away. He cups your cheek regardless. 

“I love you,” he says again. 

“I know.” 

“No, I love you.” 

He’s saying sorry.

“I love you,” you mumble back. 

“How are you feeling? Is anything hurting more? Weeping?” 

Your eyes are heavy at his touch. “You only looked at me a couple of hours ago.” 

“Alright. Can I kiss you? I need to go.” 

You don’t answer. Aaron kisses your chin, your jawline, the type of roving, teasing kisses he’d give as he squeezed your sides, only he doesn’t squeeze you, he can’t without hurting you. His hand hesitates just above your deepest wound. 

His bright kiss works to spark a modicum of life back into you. Not a lot, but enough. It was likely his intention, some quick prodding kisses to remind you of something happy between you both. 

You curl your fingers over his hand and turn your face for a chaste peck. He smiles, the curve of his lips evident and relieving against yours. 

“Someone will take you back to the safe house, okay? Give Jack a kiss for me,” he says. 

You nod. Aaron strokes your cheek. 

—

Your assailant could have killed you while you were vulnerable, but he didn’t. “He assumes he’ll have another chance,” Emily surmises. 

“That’s cocky,” JJ mutters. 

“It’s telling,” Aaron says. “But he won’t.” 

The coaching has been extensive. You, sick, a breath from tears and hurting, your shoulders in his hands and his grip too tight. If someone tells you I’m dead, you wait. If Morgan tells you I’m dead, you ask Rossi. If he says I’m dead, you ask Emily. You can’t believe the first thing someone says. No one is going to move you from this safe house to another without seeing me first. If I do get hurt, you and Jack will be moved separately. You will always get my confirmation before you’re moved. 

I’m not gullible, you’d said, wincing at his sharp tone. 

It’s not about that. People will lie, and they will lie well. They will talk their way into the house if you let them. You can’t let them. 

I won’t. 

He’s racing against a countdown, because no matter what he says, what you know, or how many agents wait outside your house, sometimes it’s a force of will. 

Foyet didn’t need much more than that. 

He admittedly feels on surer footing knowing where you are. The decision to guard you without putting you in WITSEC is aching and scary but better, too. He knows where you are. He can be there in ten minutes. No guessing games, but no hiding for you either. 

Your dread is taking over everything you do. Today’s the first day since you came home almost two weeks ago that you could function without a live-in nurse or Jess there to look after Jack, and already he’s worried, because he’d convinced you total honesty was what’s best for the both of you, and so your texts are candid. 

One an hour for his sake, more if you're up to it.

Threw up my beta blockers. Jack misses you, he wants to make you a Lego boat and fishing rod, but I’m not sure how to do it. Please make sure you eat dinner. 

Your next message makes him smile, thankfully. I’m kidding about the dinner thing. Ha. I had one of those gels you got for me, and Jack wants fries, so I’m making waffle fries. 

He texts back quickly. Eat dinner. Please tell Jack I miss him too, and don’t worry about the boat, he’ll work it out. Then, feeling awful, he adds, I love you

Aaron should go home. He’d feel better if he knew he was there to help you keep your medication down, but if he leaves… He knows his team will give you everything they have, but he has more. He can fix this. 

He can’t fix this, god, his head hurts badly. You’re covered in cuts and bruises and burns and he thinks he can make up for that? You’ve been brutalised. Aaron can’t believe this is happening again. 

He rubs his brow. 

“You okay?” Emily asks. 

When he looks up, JJ is gone. 

“I’m fine.” 

“It’s okay if you’re not.” 

He’s not fine, but he knows what she’s asking. “I’m okay enough to do this,” he says. 

It’s hard not to confuse you with memory, your hurting similar to his own, your situation one that he’s already lived. Haley will haunt him for life. It doesn’t usually feel as punishing as he fears he deserves: he gets to remember the best parts of her everyday. He sees her in Jack all the time. He sees her in you, occasionally —you’ll touch his hair or rub his arm like she would’ve done, and it doesn’t make him miss her any more than he does, he’s not in the business of wishing you weren’t yourself, he loves you, but he remembers her. Aaron remembers how he failed her every day. 

He can’t fail you, too. 

“Is it ever easy?” Emily asks. 

Aaron looks around for a bottle of water. “Is what?” 

“Being in love.” 

He thinks about it. “I must make it look hard.” 

She laughs softly. “Sometimes, yeah.” 

Maybe that’s not fair, then, to you. For him to make it seem difficult to love you. To fail to correct Emily when she asks. 

He chooses his words carefully. “Loving her is the easiest thing in the world. But… I continue to work a job I know makes me hard to love in return.” And that puts you in danger. 

It doesn’t feel wrong to be sincere. Perhaps it’s easier with Emily. She saw so much of him during Foyet, and she’s family, truly. He can tell her how intense it’s felt. 

“Well, it doesn’t seem hard for her,” Emily says. 

He shakes his head. 

She continues regardless, “Even during her cognitive, she mentioned the first time you told her you loved her. When it was over she wanted to see you over anything else.” 

But I put her here, he wants to say. Or doesn’t want to say at all, but instead knows with surety. 

“She can’t eat if I’m not home,” he says. What a thing to do to someone. “It’s my fault.” 

Emily smiles, hair slipping off of her shoulder as her expression turns to playfulness. “I think you’re seeing it all wrong. Something bad happened to her, and you’re so safe to her that you make it better when you’re with her. That’s not fault, Hotch. Just love.” 

He turns his attention back to the board without another word. 

—

When the day comes, when they find the man who hurt you, you’re sitting at home with Jack Hotchner in your lap. You’re laughing at his laughing, cartoon fish on the TV, and Aaron’s got a gun in his hand fifty miles away. You both giggle, nearly in hysterics as the safe house living room glows pink and red, Jack’s favourite character swimming hurriedly across the screen, as Aaron negotiates the arrest. 

Usually capable of mediation, Aaron finds his patience completely unravelled. He offers the UnSub two choices: he surrenders now, immediately, and he keeps his life, or he deliberates and Aaron kills him. 

He has reason to believe the UnSub will try again, of course. Will keep hurting you until it sticks. 

He goes home satisfied.

“Dad’s home!” you say excitedly, your movie long finished, your thighs numb and stitches stinging where Jack has leaned against you. You encourage him off of you as the front door closes, the cold air from outside rushing in. 

“Honey?” Aaron calls. 

“Yeah!” You stumble into a standing position, sure you look about as disgusting as you have since the situation began, promptly sitting back down as head rush hits. 

Jack races for the door, meeting Aaron in the hallway with a whoosh. “Hey!” 

“Hi, buddy, what are you doing?” 

“We watched Finding Nemo,” Jack says, “and now I’m hugging you, duh.” 

“Duh. Well, I need to talk to Y/N for five minutes. Can you wash your hands for dinner?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I’m fine.”

You hear the sound of a light kiss, and then Jack rockets across the hallway and up the stairs. Aaron walks into the doorway, tie still knotted but with no suit jacket, and you know what he’s going to say before he says it. He wears a strange expression.

“You got him?” you ask. 

He puts a white bag on the coffee table, looking down at you fondly. “I got him.” 

“How did you find him?” 

He crouches down in front of you. He’s so careful to be harmless to you now, so tentative. “You’re not the only woman he hurt. We dealt with him in the past. From the information you gave Emily during your interview, and the information he left behind, we found him… If you weren’t as brave as you are, I couldn’t have kept you and Jack safe.” He holds your knee. “Thank you.” 

You stare at him. Staring, wondering what he means. “Brave?” 

“Brave.” 

“I’m a coward.” 

He shakes his head. “No. You’re not.” 

All you've done for days is cry and throw up and bleed, literally. You’ve ruined clothes and sheets, thrown up in his lap, terrified and aching. Each time was met with the same gentleness. A kiss on the cheek, or a hand rubbing your back. Is that bravery? You feel like a baby. 

Aaron’s brow is relaxed. He takes your two legs into his hands, and he looks at you with a reverence that leaves you breathless. 

“You’re hurt forever because of me,” he says quietly, you strain to hear him, “because of who I am, and what I choose to be.” 

“How can you say that? It’s not your fault.” 

“It wouldn’t have happened to you if I hadn’t missed his MO the first time.” 

“You’re not putting the knife in anyone’s hand,” you argue. 

“But it keeps happening.” 

His hair shines dark and wet. It must be raining outside, the safe house walls are thick, the windows shuttered permanently, you haven’t heard a peep. You stroke it back from his forehead. 

“Remember… when we first got together, and you told me you were sorry for how hard being with you could be. And I said it was okay, that it wasn’t hard, and you said it would be?” 

“I remember,” he says, practically mouths. 

“I was so afraid when...” You swallow roughly. “I still am. But not– not of you. Not of what you can do. When you told me it was going to be hard, I thought, well, it’s worth it, because I really liked you then and I love you now.” Tears collect in your eyes. Safe. I’m safe. “And you look after me, so– so–” 

You stop as your voice turns to glass, worried you’ll make a fool of yourself and cry in his hands. 

“I didn’t want this for you,” he says. 

“Nobody wants this. Bad things happen to everyone, but who has someone like you to look after them?” 

He breathes out heavily. “Please… don’t cry.” 

You wipe your cheeks, taking a lengthy pause before you say, “I’m okay now.” 

He looks at you in silence. 

“Come and sit with me,” you say, scrubbing your cheeks, hot tears cooling on the backs of your hands. “Your knees.” 

He actually smiles. It changes his entire face. “What about my knees?” 

Aaron sits on the couch next to you atop Jack’s blanket, a bag of pretzels tipping between your leg and his. You attempt to rake his damp hair into submission as his fingers run against your thighs, fishing for pretzels to put back into the bag. 

You’d like for him to grab you and kiss you harshly, give you one of his straight jacket hugs, some roughhousing, but you won’t get that from him until you're better, and even then, it’s up in the air. So much has changed. 

But not everything. 

“I love you,” you murmur, fingertips scratching down behind his ear to the back of his head. 

He turns to you, sagging with relief and exhaustion. “Kiss?” he asks quietly. 

You nod. He holds your cheek, and you close your eyes at the same time for a kiss. It’s not a lot, but you have time. He can give you another one when you’re both better recovered. 

He pulls away. You open your eyes, finding his closed, his face downturned. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Was Jack good?” 

“Jack’s always good.” 

“Did the nurse have anything to say about your chest?” 

“She said it’s healing okay. That I need to use, uh, scar patches when they start to scab.” 

“I can get those.” 

“I know, I knew you would.” 

He gathers you up for a hug. For a moment, you think he’ll move on, that the end of your nightmare will kill his remorse, but he breathes in, nose wedged against your cheek. 

“Do you think that tonight, we could pretend it didn’t happen?” You’d like to just sit with him, press your hand to his chest and doze. It’s the first night in a while that you’ll feel completely. 

“Yeah. I can do that.” He hugs you rather tightly. “Do you want to see your present?” he asks, relaxing his grip. 

“My present?” 

He grabs the bag on the coffee table and places it in your lap. “I’m worried it’ll remind you of bad memories, but I wanted you to have nice things then, and I still do.” 

In the bag, there’s a pair of pyjamas. Very different to the ones you’d been wearing when you were attacked, they were girly and sweet, soft in your hands, these are sturdy. Still soft, but thick. The shirt is short-sleeved and the pants cuffed at the ankles, a hoodie tucked underneath them, and a packet of minky socks. 

“Thank you,” you say. 

Thanks for everything, for saving you twice, for taking care of you at your worst, and for wanting you to have something comfortable to wear at the end of it. To have experienced an abjectly cruel battering will leave its marks in your forever, but you meant what you told him. He looks after you, and you love him. 

He kisses your shoulder. “You don't need to say that.” 

He doesn’t add anything else, his nose pressed to your shoulder, his hand on your hip. Whatever goes unsaid can be felt in the other’s touch. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thank u for reading!! it’s been a long time since I wrote a fic for hotch and it’s hard to write him being vulnerable but I hope this is alright anyways and that you enjoyed :D please consider reblogging if you did enjoy it (cos that way my fics get shown to more people <3) ❤️

[choco-bite]

First of all this is nsfw blog so i do not want any minors lurking around here. Shooo! You don’t belong here. This blog is not for you.

And people over 18 please put your age in your bio or I’ll block you. I need your age visible when i stalk your blog from reblogs

Hello, myself J (picky for telling my name) 26yo switch leaning soft dominant. Lately I’ve been enjoying posting about being a sub so there’s that. My pronouns are he/him and I’m straight. Do not ask for personal details if we get comfortable I’ll tell you. I’m very much flirtatious so i like to flirt with everyone when i get the chance and the right opportunity. Also I’m a writer. A true hopeless romantic by heart. I’m here to have fun and explore my kinks and meet similar minded people.

Spamming is a love language for me. If i like your blog, I’ll spam you, like your posts a lot and may drop a cute ask.

I may or may not follow you. I would like to follow those who posts their own thoughts here. I’m tired of seeing the same posts over and over through reblogs. So if you’re blog with just reblogs I won’t follow you.

– My kink includes:

Breeding, praise kink, degradation kink, humiliation kink, somno kink, ddlg, mdlb, pregnancy, piss kink, dirty talk, spanking, anal, rimming, orgasm control, orgasm denial, total power exchange, roleplay, adult nursing relationship & more

– my limit includes:

Scat, gore, vomit, sharing, threesomes, foursomes, hardcore stuff, balls kicking, licking shoes, licking floor, toilet stuff will include more later

Title/honorifics I prefer: daddy/dad (when domming)

Title/honorifics i want to call you by: mommy, princess, queen (when subbing)

Petnames i adore: baby, my babyboy, cute boy, little boy, sweetheart, darling, my love, my little prince

Dm is open for anyone right now. I maybe closing or opening as i see fit. I work and sometimes it gets hectic for me to reply. It’s not you just my stupid work. I’m always down to make friends tho. Hit me up anytime <3

However I’m not much of a conversation starter. If you want to talk just hit me up. I don’t mind.

Aftercare is everything

Consent is everything

do not kink shame or I’ll block you on site

my posts under tag: choco typing

My asks under tag: choco spilling

few tags I adore: oh mommy & me and who

reblog if my posts made you cum, twitchy, leaky, creamy

stay safe, stay healthy and be kinky

l love you 3000

Divider credits goes to: @saradika-graphics @steddiecameraroll-graphics @anitalenia

[daddy-dins-girl]

Talk Me Down

A fic requested by @anotherpedrolover

I was gonna wait until Frankie Friday (tomorrow) to post this, but this sweet human being has already waited like 2 months for me to finish this, lol, so here you go! I was asked to write a fic about insecure!Frankie who has some self-esteem/body image issues but after being with Reader (who is very appreciative of his body) he gets into it and develops a bit of a praise kink for it but but he hits a rough patch and gets into a dark place, feeling very undeserving of the love and attention Reader gives him. The person who made the request asked me to focus on his feelings and emotions when he is feeling bad and insecure (and specifically asked for some tears to be shed, lol) so I did my best to beat the crap out of Frankie (emotionally).

I hope this is somewhat what they had in mind and that they like it :) I've never really written anything like this (PWP queen over here) so I hope I got it right and didn't make Frankie too OOC. Hope you all enjoy it!

Page dividers provided by the gracious and talented @saradika-graphics

Ao3 link

My Masterlist Word Count: 9.8k Fandom: Triple Frontier (Frankie Morales x f!Reader) Notes: Pre/No TF Mission. Fic title is from the song of the same name by Troye Sivan. Warnings: 🔞 18+MDNI. Angst. Drama. Body Insecurity/Self-esteem issues. Praise Kink. Smut (pretty tame and not a lot, considering its me lol, but its there). Sad!Frankie. Mid-Life-Crisis!Frankie. Emotional hurt/comfort. Eventual happy ending. Established Relationship. No use of y/n. No physical description of Reader.

“Babe, have you seen my -“ you cut yourself off mid sentence as you turn the corner and your eyes land on your boyfriend, leisurely sprawled on the couch with his legs up on the ottoman, ankles crossed over each other and television remote firmly in hand while a baseball game plays in the background.

“Are you serious?”

“What?” Frankie asks, incredulous.

“We have to be at Will and Benny’s in like…” you pause to look at your watch. “Fifteen minutes! And what is that… are you eating the potato salad I made?”

“Was I not supposed to?” Frankie responds, forkful halfway to his mouth again already.

“Oh my god” You shake your head. You literally can’t with him today. You made that for the barbecue pool party today and now it was nearly half gone.

“Nevermind, let’s just go” you huff. You’re not in a great mood and maybe you’re being a little bitchier than usual thanks to this god awful heatwave but Frankie wasn’t helping matters any.

“I’ll be in the car” you grumble towards his general direction as you head out the front door. At least there’s A/C in the Jeep.

Surprisingly he doesn’t keep you waiting long. He’s shoving his slides on his feet as he hops down the front steps only a minute or so later and then jumps into the driver’s seat next to you, buckling his seatbelt and the two of you head out of the driveway.

“See, plenty of time” He grins at you when you pull up to the outside of your friends house a short while later with actually a few minutes to spare before your requested arrival time. You had attempted to stay mad at him, neither of you speaking more than one or two words the entire drive but now with that stupidly adorable smirk on his face you have no choice but to want to kiss it off of him. Despite your best efforts, a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“There it is” his grin widens as he brings a hand up to pinch at your cheek and you playfully swat him away, trying and failing to hold back a little laugh.

“Baby I don’t know what you think we’re gonna miss anyway. It’s my birthday party. They literally can’t start without me”

“Francisco Morales, you’re going to be late to your own funeral, you know that don’t you?” You shake your head at him but the smile hasn’t left your lips.

“Oh baby we’re gonna be real late if you keep that ‘Francisco’ talk up” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at you and reaching over the center console to grab a handful of your upper thigh. “Maybe we skip the party all together, you give me my birthday present early, hmm?”

“Get out of the car you perv!” You laugh, giving him a playful shove. “Are you sure you’re turning 40 and not 14?”

“All right, all right I’ll behave” He sighs, hands up in the air to signal his defeat.

You’re glad he seems like he’s in a better mood so far today. He’s been a little off the last couple of days and you can’t say why. You’ve asked a few times if something was bothering him but he kept shrugging you off, insisting everything was fine. You chalked it up to maybe just work stress and are hoping now that the weekend is here that he’ll be able to just relax and have a great time with his friends.

Despite you being early, the party is actually in full swing on your arrival. You and Frankie let yourselves in through the back gate where the backyard is filled with several of Frankie’s (and now yours, you supposed) friends milling about. The ones you recognize immediately are his old military unit; Santiago, Benny, Will and Tom, as well as Will’s girlfriend and Tom’s wife. There are a few other people around you’ve definitely met before but can’t place all of them. Either way, you’re glad to see so many people have shown up for Frankie on his big day.

The space is decorated too with balloons everywhere, a giant banner that reads “Happy Birthday Fish!” and a big poster board is taped up against the side of the house as soon as you walk in that has pictures of Frankie and his family and friends all over it with the title “40 Years In The Making” written at the top in huge block lettering. You and Frankie both take a moment to look over the board before anyone deeper inside the yard notices you yet. There are a bunch of photos from his younger military days and even a few from when he was just a boy that have you gushing over him, telling Frankie how adorable he was and pinching his cheek for good measure. You spot a couple of pictures of Frankie having fallen asleep at a party (something he’s been known to do) with his signature ball cap pulled down over his face and beer bottle loosely gripped in his hand and those give you both a good laugh. There’s two photos of you and him together, you notice, and your personal favourite picture of Frankie - him flying his helicopter wearing a pair of Aviators, looking so sexy it makes you melt each time you see it.

You safely assume the wife and girlfriends of Frankie’s closest pals were mostly to thank for the decorating. If it were up to the boys there would be a folded table in the middle of the backyard with a pack of cards and a cooler full of beer and that would be it.

“There he is!” Benny shouts across the yard the moment he spots you both just inside the gate. He dashes across the patio and throws his arms around Frankie, nearly knocking him over in the process before landing a few hard slaps to his back. “Happy birthday ya old fuck” he teases, grabbing on to Frankie’s shoulder and jostling him slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be your turn soon enough” Frankie reminds him but Benny just shrugs.

“Always be younger than you though” he winks and that earns him a little shove from Frankie.

The rest of the greetings go more or less the same way, playful teasing or ribbing on Frankie for turning the big “4-0”. It gets old quickly but if it bothers Frankie he doesn’t let it show, just takes it in stride as he makes his way through the small crowd and says his hello’s.

By the time you get home much later that night you’re exhausted. It’s late and the day had been long (and hot in that blistering sun). Add to that you’re sober whereas everyone around you had been thoroughly wasted which made the night seem to drag on even longer. You wanted Frankie to have a great time, it was his birthday after all, so you offered to drive you both tonight and somehow that had turned into you offering to be an Uber driver for half the party so instead of it taking ten minutes to get home it had taken an hour.

“I’m beat” you announce through a long drawn out yawn, stretching tired limbs over your head. “You wanna come to bed with me, birthday boy?” You ask playfully, walking up to Frankie and looping your fingers through the belt loops of his tan cargo shorts to tug him a little closer, hoping he catches on that you’re not that tired.

“Think I’m gonna shower, I hate smelling like chlorine” he complains, gently taking your hands and removing them from his waist. “You go on, I won’t be long” he promises before leaning forward and planting a kiss to your forehead.

“Baby,” you whine, a masterful pout displayed on your lips. “C’mon upstairs with me, while it’s still your birthday” you try seductively, hand reaching out to brush over the outside of his pants at his crotch.

“I said I want to shower” Frankie replies back, a little too curtly for your liking and his tone leaving no room for argument as he pushes your hand away a second time. You frown and the huff of disappointment you breathe out doesn’t go unnoticed by your partner.

“Baby come on, I’m sorry. I just don’t wanna go to bed smelling like chemicals. Go on up to bed, I’ll be right behind you” he says with finality and gives your hand a little squeeze before dropping it and heading off to the bathroom.

You sigh but let him go. Truthfully you’d been trying to drag him out of the party for hours, desperate to get him alone and all to yourself. You don’t know what’s come over you today but you felt downright needy for him, your hormones just off the charts and now he’s making you wait even longer when all you want to do is rip his clothes off and show him exactly how glad you are that he was born forty years ago today and by some cosmic twist of fate found his way into your life.

Once in the bedroom and settled into bed you hear the spray of water come to life in the bathroom down the hall and your mind can’t help but drift and think about Frankie, naked and in the shower. How the water is cascading down his broad shoulders to his soft tummy and strong, thick legs and a heat floods your body, going straight to the lower part of your abdomen. You loved his body and you weren’t shy about telling him either. You remember back to when you’d first started dating, the early stages of your intimate relationship. He was so shy around you at first, always insisting the lights be off or even leaving his t-shirt on when you’d have sex. It was all a mystery to you, how someone as gorgeous as Frankie could have self-esteem issues but you loved to remind him how crazy he drove you and how perfect he was in your eyes.

At first he got so embarrassed at your borderline worship of his body, refused to even believe you in the beginning but he warmed up eventually to the point where he loved it. Craved it, even, your praise of him. Though he’d never admitted to it out loud and always remained a little bashful about it, you could tell. Frankie was already a very generous, selfless and enthusiastic lover, but when you really got vocal with him (or better yet let your tongue and hands do the talking) of how much you enjoyed every part of his physical anatomy, Frankie could get downright animalistic with you and it brought the already amazing sex to a whole new level for you both. You had definitely uncovered a little praise-kink in your boyfriend that you don’t think he even knew existed in himself and honestly no sexual relationship you’ve had in the past could ever hold a candle to the one you and Frankie have created together.

You plan on using every weapon in your arsenal on him tonight to truly wish him a happy birthday he won’t soon forget. You’ll caress, kiss and lick your way from his prominent neck vein, his broad chest with just the lightest smattering of golden brown hair, take more than enough time for your tongue to appreciate each of his small dusty pink nipples before you continue down his sternum to where he gets a little softer. You’ll playfully nip and suck at the small expanse of flesh at his belly that protrudes just barely over his waistline, making sure to let him know with words how gorgeous he is, how hot he makes you, how he’s all yours. You just hope you get to have your fill before he takes his own. It had taken you a while to get Frankie to allow you to appreciate him the way you wanted to. He was always insistent on your pleasure and he still is to this day, but you’ve managed to strike a fairly delicate balance now for the most part, though you’ll admit there are days where Frankie comes home and he just needs you. You’ve come to recognize it on him and you’re glad to give him the reins when that happens, knowing that he’ll allow you to do the same when you need it. When you said Frankie was a generous lover you weren’t exaggerating. That man would spend hours with his face buried between your legs if you’d let him, and sometimes you’d let him do just that. But tonight was for him and tonight you need him. Need to show him how in love with him you are in a way that words just can’t do.

You have to press your thighs together just at the thought of him in the shower now, hoping he won’t be long so you can hopefully pull him out of this weird mood he’d been in most of the day. It started not long after you got to Will and Benny’s. Just silly, little things that just seemed to set him off to the point where he’d either pick a fight with you (or whoever else he happened to be talking to) or just get overly quiet and wander off by himself. You think back trying to think what could’ve started it all. He’d gone into the party in a good enough mood but soon after he started acting weird. The two of you barely fought, like ever, and here you were today in front of all your friends getting into a yelling match with each other about goddamn sunscreen of all things. And it wasn’t just you, he seemed overly quiet today around everyone, even his best friends who were more like brothers to him than anything and none of it made sense to you, you just hope now that he was home maybe he’d get out of his funk.

Your mind doesn’t have any longer to dwell however because Frankie emerges from the bathroom and into the bedroom, already changed into a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Your tongue absent-mindedly peeks out to swipe across your bottom lip at the way the wet curls stick to his forehead or how tiny droplets of water soak through the thin cotton of his dark gray t-shirt because he didn’t quite dry himself all the way off before tugging it over his head.

Not that it matters, you don’t plan on him wearing it long anyway.

“Finally” you smile at him from your spot on the bed and shuffle back slightly to pat down on the space next to you on the mattress. You pull back the bed covers to reveal that you’re wearing next to nothing, A black lacy bra and matching panties that really left nothing to the imagination. It was Frankie’s favourite on you.

“You didn’t have to wait up” Frankie says casually, looking down as he unfastens his watch from his wrist to toss it on the nightstand. If he notices your state of nearly undress during his brief glance in your direction he doesn’t say anything or even react. “Thought you were tired” he adds, feigning concern for your sleep habits.

“Read between the lines Morales, was just trying to get you into bed” you tease, sticking the tip of your tongue out at him playfully. He says nothing in response, just flips off the light and crawls in next to you but to your surprise just throws the comforter over you both and turns on his side and faces away from you as he scrunches up his pillow under his head until he’s comfortable and settles.

You frown, not that he can see you, but shuffle over to him anyway so you’re pressed up against his back and your arm slings around his waist. You stay still for a minute, waiting to see if he’ll take your less than subtle hint that you’re “not tired” but he just lays there, unmoving, and so you decide it’s time to take matters into your own hands. Literally.

Your hand slips under the hem of his shirt to rest on his soft belly and begins to gently explore. Fingertips dancing along the smooth skin and sparse little body hairs and moving over to his hip where you grab onto the small bit of extra skin there and massage his side but before you can go any further he’s grabbing your hand and pushing it out from under his shirt. He brings it to rest on top of his chest over the thin cotton of his t-shirt and just holds his hand over top of yours.

“Baby?” You breathe out into the blackness of the room, worry evident in your tone. Was he angry at you for something else now? You hadn’t even done anything for him to be mad at you about, you’ve been in bed the whole time.

“Sorry, I’m just tired” he mumbles into the pillow but you’re not buying it. Frankie was a bit of a night owl, not to mention it was a Saturday night, neither of you had work in the morning and the two of you always made sure to make the most of your weekend nights together when you could really take the time to make love the way you craved to all week.

“Hey,” you call out softly, grabbing for his shoulder and pulling it towards you so he’ll turn to face you. He lets you, turning halfway to you, onto his back and craning his neck to face you.

“Is everything okay? Are you mad at me or something?” You ask genuinely concerned. You try not to make it sound like you’re pouting because you’re not, you just need to know what’s going on with him. Maybe he’s upset about something, or maybe just a little too drunk to actively participate the way he thinks he should but you wouldn’t mind too much if he was, you certainly don’t mind taking care of him and you know he’ll more than make it up to you the next time.

He lets out a sigh and tiredly rubs at his eyes.

“Of course not. Come here, I’m sorry” he sighs once more and lifts his arm closest to you so you can snuggle into him, your head resting on his shoulder and your arm drapes across his middle again. He tilts his head down slightly to kiss the top of your hair but otherwise makes no moves to initiate anything further physically with you, just holds you tightly to his body.

“Are you really tired?” You ask quietly, turning your face slightly to nuzzle into his neck and plant little kisses there. You feel the little shudder that runs through his body and a smile pulls at your lips.

Maybe he wasn’t mad at you.

“I haven’t given you your present yet” you breathe into the warm flesh of his throat, tongue darting out to give a tentative little lick to the underside of his jaw and he rewards you with the slightest little moan, but it’s enough that you heard it and it encourages you to continue.

You begin to kiss and lick your way down the column of his throat while your hand leaves his chest to come down and gently palm him over his boxers and he instinctively thrusts his hips into your touch and you moan into his skin. You can feel him beginning to swell under your touch already.

“Mmm, can I take you out?” You murmur against his collarbone and he nods his head.

“Yeah,” he lets out in a breathy whisper and brings his own free hand down to help you shove his boxers down his thighs until he’s able to kick out of them.

Your hand wraps around his impressive length the moment he’s free from the confines of his underwear, slowly pumping him with practiced strokes and it’s not long until he’s fully hard in your hand and quietly grunting and groaning, your face buried in the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. You hate that his shirt is still on, your mouth not able to reach all the places it desperately wants to.

Your hand leaves him for a moment as you push yourself up onto your knees and swing one leg over him so you're straddling his hips, your hands resting on his chest overtop of the soft worn cotton.

“You can be tired baby, let me all do the work” you coo, leaning down to place another kiss to his jaw as you slowly grind your pelvis into his. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was just too tired or drunk to have the full cognitive function he needed but that was fine by you, tonight was for him anyways.

“Shit,” he groans, hands sliding under the back of your panties to grope the globes of your ass in his two large hands and he presses you down even harder against his groin just as he thrusts his hips upwards, the delicious friction causing a moan to escape your lips.

“Mmm, you feel so good” you whimper against his heated flesh as you nuzzle the underside of his jaw and into his throat.

“Take these off” Frankie practically growls, impatiently shoving your underwear down and with his help you manage to wiggle free of them. You both moan in unison when your lower halves press together again, this time with no barriers between you as his throbbing member slides through your slick folds with every calculated thrust of your hips against him.

“Baby you make me so wet” you giggle, hands roaming his hard chest and broad shoulders. “God you’re so hot” you praise, mouth latching back onto his neck as you trail hot open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat until you reach the collar of his t-shirt.

“Off” you gently demand, hands going to the bottom of his tee and beginning to push it upwards. You need to feel all of him, his warm skin on yours. Need to lick and kiss and touch every inch of him. “Let me touch you”

“Mnnmm mnmm” he shakes his head and without warning suddenly flips you both with practiced ease until you’re underneath him flat on your back and he’s on hands and knees looming over you. He grabs your wrists and hauls them up above your head, bringing them together so he’s able to hold them down with one hand against the top of the mattress so he can have one free and you giggle up at him.

“What’s gotten into you? You’re supposed to be tired, old man” you tease him but there’s no mirth in his eyes after he hears your words, no lingering smile on his lips. There’s desire, sure, but something else on his features. Subtle, whatever it is, but it’s there.

“Do you wanna fuck or not? Jesus,” he snaps. “I can’t do anything fucking right”

Oh, and there it is. It’s anger.

Your face scrunches up at his little outburst. That was not like Frankie at all. Not your sweet, loving, caring Frankie who adored you, this was someone else, someone you didn’t recognize.

“Get off me” you huff, easily wiggling your wrists free as he wasn’t holding too tightly and you bring your hands up to shove at his chest. His yelling at you instantly taking you out of the mood.

He does, immediately. He rolls off of you, grabs for his discarded boxers near the bottom of the bed and shoves them on. You do the same with your own underwear and also pull the sheet up to cover yourself, not wanting to feel any more vulnerable in front of him than you already do.

You have no idea what in the fuck that was all about, snapping at you like that when you thought everything was going rather well. He really was in a mood today apparently, and you didn’t care for it one bit. You’re already feeling overly emotional today, your period must be just around the corner or something.

The room falls silent. Frankie sits on the edge of the side of the bed, hands on his thighs and head hanging low while you lay back against the headboard, fingers twisting into the sheets, holding them around you like a shield. Tears well in your eyes, threatening to fall but you quickly blink them away before you bury your head in your knees.

“Do you want me to sleep downstairs?” He asks softly, the gruffness gone from his voice now. He sounds almost apologetic, though he’s still yet to apologize. He's not looking at you either, but your grateful for that at this moment.

You say nothing. Not trusting your voice just yet but the tiniest sniffle from your nose is near deafening in the stillness of the room. You quickly clear your throat in an attempt to cover the sound but it’s too late. Frankie’s head whips around back in your direction and he’s suddenly scrambling up the bed to wrap his arms around your lower back. Your legs lower instinctively to let him in and he lies over top of you with his head resting on your middle.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” he breathes out, voice muffled by the thin layer of the bed sheet as he buries his face into your stomach. “I’m an asshole”

“You’re not” you sigh. “Just - tell me what’s going on with you” you say calmly, hands now petting through his hair.

“Nothin’” he grumbles into your tummy.

“It’s not nothing, come on,” you try, a little softer this time. “You can tell me anything, you know I love you no matter what”

“Why?”

It's so quiet, so soft, mumbled against you that your ears almost didn’t even pick it up. Your heart breaks a little at the single uttered syllable.

“Hey,” you frown, grabbing both sides of his face in your hands and forcing him to look up at you. “Are you seriously asking why I love you? Where’s this coming from?” You ask, concerned. He’s been known to get down on himself from time to time but you’ve never seen him like this and it worries you.

He lets out a heavy sigh and rolls off of you, crawling up the bed to lay on his back next to you and rubs his hands over his face.

“Baby, talk to me” you press, turning to your side and curling up to his larger frame, hand stretching out to rest on his chest as your fingers play absently with the soft material of his t-shirt. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah, 40 happened” he groans, hand doing a sweeping motion down his body. “I mean, look at this” he shakes his head.

“Oh baby trust me, I look at this every day” you counter, an appreciative smile playing on your lips as your hand gently rubs into his chest.

“This perfect,” you pause to press a kiss into his cheek. “Sexy,” another kiss to his jaw. “Man of my dreams”

“Stop” he huffs, gently pushing you away. “Just don’t… say shit like that. It’s not true” he argues, flipping over onto his side to face away from you.

You know when to push him and when not to, and now is not one of those times. You’ll let him have his moment, knowing if you get too in his face about it he’s likely just going to shut down and you need him to be open with you if you’re going to get anywhere. So instead you just leave him be, but stay nestled into his side, your hand rubbing small circles into his back and shoulder blades, just a soft gesture to let him know you’re here and not going anywhere.

Long minutes pass and after a while you think maybe he’s fallen asleep, until you hear it. It’s barely audible, but it’s there. The tiniest whimper falls from his lips, followed by a quiet little sniffle before he buries his face into a pillow in an attempt to cover it up and your whole heart breaks in two.

“Frankie, baby” you soothe, pulling on his shoulder and forcing him to turn towards you. Surprisingly he doesn’t fight it, just lets you roll him over and he instantly buries his face in your neck once he’s facing you, unable to look you in the eyes. But you don’t need to see him, you can feel the hot tears on his cheeks as he presses into you and you wrap your arms around his shoulders a little tighter, one hand cradling the back of his head as he lets his emotions out.

“I love you, ok?” You whisper against his chocolate brown curls, your lips pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He says nothing, just nods his head against you that he knows you love him and he knows he’s being oversensitive but he just can’t help it.

“I wish you could see what I see” you murmur against him, still hugging him tightly to your body.

Franky gently pushes back from you slightly, quickly wiping at his eyes and collecting himself before his red-rimmed gaze settles on yours.

“I’m sorry I’m in a shit mood and taking it out on you, it’s not fair and you don’t deserve it” he apologizes, shaking his head slightly. “I’m just feeling down on myself I guess and I dragged you into it and I’m sorry”

“Is that what’s been going on all day?” You ask, genuinely curious. You’re starting to piece it together now, all the teasing he’s put up with all day, how he only seemed to be snapping at you when you complimented him or tried to take off his shirt tonight. Not to mention all his friends running around half naked in just their swim trunks all afternoon, most of whom kept themselves in very tip top shape. Maybe Frankie had grown a little softer since the two of you have been together but you loved it on him, his ‘dad bod’ physique. He has nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, as far as you’re concerned. But you suppose it’s hard not to feel self conscious when standing next to a shirtless Will, Benny or Santiago who all look like they could be models in some sort of hot firefighter calendar or something. None of them did anything for you though, Frankie would always hold your heart and your gaze, no matter who he was standing next to.

“I guess” Frankie sighs, fingers now picking at an imaginary thread on the blanket underneath you. “Sometimes I just wonder…” he trails off again and you frown.

“Wonder what?”

“Wonder what in the hell you’re doin’ with me” he sighs, throwing his hands up. “I’m a fuck-up. Forty years old and what have I accomplished in my life? I have a shit job, working for an asshole I can’t stand, flying tourists around and giving private lessons on the side to rich jerkoffs who don’t give a shit about learning anything about flying, just want a cool photo for their Instagram. Since I left the service I just feel like… Like I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing with my life anymore so I just haven’t done fucking anything. And you… god knows why you give me the time of day but you do and I just don’t ever feel like I’m enough. Least I could fucking do for you is go to the gym and take care of myself, god knows I need to eat healthier” He shakes his head and you’re unsure for a moment if he’s done beating himself up but before you even have a chance to articulate a response he starts up again.

“Like look at this!” He shouts suddenly, voice raised much higher than moments earlier as he rips his shirt off his head and sweeps his hand down his front. “How can you be in love with this, with someone who looks like this?! I… fuck’”

He doesn’t get any more words out, his hands flying to his face to hide his shame as he starts sobbing with how much hatred he apparently holds for himself and you can’t take it. You lurch forward, wrapping your arms around him and holding him as tightly to your body as possible. Thankfully he doesn’t push you away, just grabs onto you like you're his only lifeline, clinging to you with desperation.

“Frankie, my love, oh Frankie” you’re in tears now too, holding onto him for dear life so he can’t slip away from you. You won’t let him. Not this time.

You crawl into his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist and arms still around his neck like a needy spider monkey.

“I love you, so fucking much” you clarify, because you need him to hear you. “I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable. I know I can get carried away sometimes but I guess I just thought you were okay with it, thought we were both into it. But I’ve never lied to you when I tell you how I feel about you or your body. Do you hear me, Francisco?” You ask and after a moment he nods his head just slightly, just once.

“I am crazy about you, whether you believe it or understand it. But if it makes you uncomfortable when I express my physical attraction to you the way that I do, then I'll stop. Or, you know, try to. Sometimes in the heat of the moment it might just come out but you can remind me and I swear I'll do my best. Just tell me what you need from me baby, whatever it is I’ll give it to you. I can’t lose you Frankie, I can’t!” Your tears flow even harder and Frankie’s grip around you tightens at your words.

“I know, I know” he murmurs softly. “Too fucking good for me” he reiterates quietly, but not in an argumentative way like he’d meant it earlier, more like he can’t believe you put up with his shit but he’s so glad that you do. You think maybe your words have sunk in because he's not arguing with you anymore, not berating himself, just absorbing everything. You decide to leave it be for now. You've said your peace, now you can only hope he'll believe your words and take everything you've said into consideration to fend off whatever demons are feasting inside of him. All you want is his happiness and you know that you can't be the one to solely give that to him, that he needs to find it within himself as well, but you're damn sure willing and hoping that he'll take the support you give him and that he'll let you be there at his side to continue to take on this journey of life together. If he wants to find a new job, or a new career even, you'd support him through that in every way you can. You'll do whatever is in your power to get him through this and you just hope now that he knows that.

You hold each other for several minutes, neither of you saying anything further, just taking whatever comfort you have left to offer one another. You don't push him for any more communication, assuming if he's not speaking it's because his thoughts are still a little all over the place and he still hasn't quite worked it all out for himself. He'll talk about it again when he's ready and whether that's tonight or tomorrow or next month, you'll wait for him. He's worth the wait, there's no doubt in your mind about that.

After a while Frankie shifts you both until he’s lied down on his back on the bed with you half draped over top of him and eventually sleep overcomes the tears and emotions and your breathing evens out as you both drift off within minutes of lying down, the full events of the day finally taking its toll on your weary bodies.

When you wake again the sun hasn’t quite risen to the sky but you know it’s only minutes away, not hours. You feel like you didn’t sleep at all. Your head is pounding like you’re the one who finished a gallon of tequila last night, not your boyfriend and his friends. Frankie is beside you, though you’ve more or less switched positions. You’re fully on your back with Frankie’s arm draped across your middle, his face buried into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder and he snores softly. You’re glad he’s sleeping peacefully, god knows he needs it. You carefully extract yourself from him, needing to get up and use the bathroom, tossing on a pair of shorts and a tank top. As you pad across the plush carpeting and out to the hallway your mind spins a hundred different directions as you think about yesterday, about last night. You were both highly emotional but truth be told you’ve felt off for weeks. More tired. Bitchy. And you know you’ve been taking it out on Frankie even when he’s the last person that deserves it and who knows, maybe he thought you’ve been trying to push away from him and last night he just tried to do it himself before you got the chance to and he let his insecurities get the better of him. Of course that wasn’t your intention, you’ve never felt for anyone the way you feel about him and you meant every word last night when you told him you can’t lose him. You’ve just been a mess lately and you can’t really explain it other than you know it’s nothing to do with Frankie and certainly not his fault, he just takes the brunt of your ‘crazy’ because he’s the closest person to you. You don’t know what the fuck has been going on with you unless…

Shit.

You practically sprint the rest of the way to the bathroom down the hall, tossing open drawers and cupboards and medicine cabinets in a flurry as you look for that precious little white stick that might explain a whole hell of a lot that’s been going on with you.

“Hey” you softly call out from the doorway of the bedroom, leaning up against it with a large glass of water in hand. Frankie slowly stirs. He’s on his stomach now and raises his head to look at you through sleep-bleared eyes, wayward curls falling across his forehead.

“Hey” he rasps out, voice no doubt shot from all the talking and yelling and crying from last night.

This is what the water was for.

You cross the room and he immediately throws the blanket open, inviting you into his warm cocoon as he slightly sits up against the headboard. You hand him the water as you settle in next to his large warm frame and he chugs the entire glass in record time.

“Ah, thank you, I needed that” he says, clearing his throat and then reaching past you to place the glass on the nightstand before he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur into his chest, hand coming up to draw small shapes against his clavicle.

“Like a bit of a first class idiot, if I’m bein’ honest” he sighs and you squeeze your arms around him a little tighter.

“Don’t, babe” you tut, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You were feeling a lot yesterday and it obviously needed to come out. I’m glad it did. We need to be honest with each other, you know?” You tell him, tilting your head to look up at his face. He flashes the tiniest smile at you and leans down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose before you settle back against his chest.

“Some of the things I said last night though, I didn’t even mean. Not really…” he trails off, shaking his head like he’s trying to get his thoughts in order.

You push back from him slightly and up into a sitting position and turn to face him so the two of you can have a real conversation.

“Like what?”

He shrugs shyly and looks away, fingers fidgeting with the blanket around his waist. You hear a mumbled ‘dunno’ fall from his lips. You have a pretty good idea what he’s getting at but know that he’s too embarrassed to say it himself so you help him out, scooting a little closer and placing a hand on his naked chest before you let it slowly drift lower, fingertips dancing across his warm soft flesh and his eyes close and he lets out a content little sigh as he feels your hands on his body again.

“Last night I thought that maybe… I sometimes make you feel uncomfortable when we’re in bed with the attention I give and show you... Was that just insecure Frankie talking?” You ask softly. His eyes are still closed but he nods his head. Your hand rests on his stomach and you slide it upwards again and wrap it around his neck, your thumb brushing back and forth behind his ear.

“Sorry I basically called you a liar last night. That wasn’t fair of me” He tells you sincerely, finally opening his eyes to look back at yours. “I know you love me. All of me. God knows why, but you do” he finishes with a teasing smirk.

“I do love all of you. Every inch. And sometimes I just love showing you how much I do” you shrug.

“I know. And if I’m bein’ honest… I do… y’know, like it. I really like it. I just, yesterday, I don’t know what came over me. Just feeling sorry for myself I guess and wasn’t feeling… up to par, for you, and I guess I got a little too much in my own head. Shit I don’t know, guys teasing me all night, I probably had too much to drink and looking at those stupid pictures of me from when I was much younger and took better care of myself just had me feeling not very good about myself”

“Frankie, baby,” you begin, shifting your position so you can swing one knee over to the other side of his hips so you’re sitting on his lap on your knees facing him while he rests against the headboard. His hands immediately go to your hips and rest there, just holding you, while yours go to his shoulders.

“You never have to doubt for a moment how I feel about you. How I desire you. I need you to hear me on that” you tell him, staring into his eyes in hopes he doesn’t get too embarrassed and turn away from you again. To your delight, he doesn’t. He holds your gaze and his thumbs absently draw small circles on your hips. “I am in love with this Frankie, the one right in front of me. To me he’s sweet and perfect and yeah, he turns me on. Like, a fucking lot. So sorry, but you’re just gonna have to face facts, and thems the facts” you conclude teasingly and he lets out a little chuckle.

“Understood” he nods once before he pushes forward slightly and his mouth latches on to the side of your throat, gently kissing at your inviting flesh. Your head falls back and your hands travel up to hold the back of his head, fingers running through soft chestnut curls.

“There’s something else you said last night…” you begin, trailing off slightly as Frankie’s hot mouth on your skin attempts to distract you.

“Mmm?” He mumbles into your neck, not letting up from what he’s doing as he licks and nips and sucks at the supple flesh of your throat.

Despite wanting nothing more than for him to continue, your hands go to his chest and you gently push him back. He falls back against the headboard with a quiet thud and looks at you with a hint of confusion and worry in his gaze.

“You said you haven’t accomplished anything since leaving the military and well… I just wanted you to know that I am currently in possession of evidence that you have accomplished something very special. Might even be the most important thing you’ve done in your life” you shrug and he raises a curious eyebrow at you.

“Possess… what? What do you mean?”

Rather than spell it out for him, you take his large hand in two of yours and bring it to rest on your stomach, his palm flat across the span of your belly. It’s probably too early for a ‘bump’ just yet but you hold his hand there all the same and within seconds you watch as the realization dawns across his face. At first his brow furrows like he’s confused but then they perk up and his face splits into a giant grin that reaches his eyes and causes them to crinkle at the corners.

“Baby are you… are you serious?” He asks for confirmation and you simply nod your head.

“I mean, I think so. I’ve been feeling kinda off for a while and you my dear boyfriend were too sweet to call me out on any of my crazy shit” you add teasingly and huffs a little laugh but shakes his head. “Then it all kinda clicked into place when I woke up so I took a test this morning and it was positive” you shrug. “I’ll have to make a doctors appointment to be su-“

You don’t get the rest of the words out before Frankie is on you. He surges forward pressing his mouth to yours in a firm kiss before he moves to start peppering tiny little kisses all over your face and neck until you’re bubbling over with laughter as his facial scruff tickles your throat with his frantic movements.

“We’re having a baby?” He asks, eyes welled up with tears as he pushes back from you to stare into yours. He needs to hear you say it, make sure he’s not dreaming this moment. You had a close call together once before, hence the left over pregnancy tests in your bathroom cupboard but nothing came of it. Neither of you expressed disappointment or relief over the false alarm several months back, just kept on with your lives but now it felt different. At least for you. You felt… ready. Excited, even.

“We’re having a baby” you confirm, wide grin across your lips, ecstatic that Frankie is happy with this news.

“Oh my god” he breathes out, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you tightly against his chest so he can bury his nose in your hair. “I'm gonna be a dad?”

“You’re gonna be a great dad” you clarify.

“Oh my god” he breathes out again, pulling you back tightly against him one last time.

“I’m so glad you’re happy about this” you blubber through a few tears, squeezing him back just as tightly. You really weren’t sure how this news would go over, especially given the events of last night and how Frankie currently felt about his position in life but you are incredibly relieved at how happy this news has made him. You weren’t planning this, like at all, but you suppose when you have as much sex as you and Frankie do, no matter how careful you are, it’s bound to happen.

“Of course I'm happy” Frankie murmurs into your shoulder. “I’m so fucking happy” you can feel a few stray tears fall against your skin and you smile, holding him impossibly tighter.

You stay there for several long moments, just letting everything sink in before Frankie speaks and breaks the silence. It’s quiet, muffled into the warmth of your skin as his face stays buried in your neck, but you hear it.

“Will you marry me?”

“What?” You breathe out in shock. You heard him, you know you heard exactly what he said, but… is this really happening?

“Will you-”

“I heard you” you quickly interrupt, gently pulling back from him enough so you can look at each other again. You put both hands on his face, searching for any traces of regret like maybe he just blurted that out because of the endorphins coursing through his body but he looks back at you only with pure love in those giant brown irises of his.

All the same, you need to be sure he’s absolutely sure and not just doing this because he thinks it’s ‘the right thing to do’. You want him to marry you because he wants to marry you, not because of any obligation he might feel. To be honest you’ve been waiting for a while for him to pop the question, you figured you’ve been together long enough, living together even for a while now but it hadn’t happened yet. You try not to feel too over excited that he’s asked you now, in case it’s for the wrong reasons, but you can’t help but feel how your heart practically soared the moment the words fell from his lips.

“And?...” Frankie asks hopefully and you realize it’s been several long seconds without you actually giving him an answer.

“Baby,” You sigh, your gaze glancing down for a moment and you feel his shoulders drop a little, like he’s already anticipating you saying no to him. “I would marry you in a damn heartbeat but… I just don’t want you to ask me now because you think you have to. This is a lot, I just don’t want to put any more pressure on you. I don’t expect you to suddenly feel ready to marry me because of this”

You try desperately to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. If he agrees with you and takes it back you won’t be mad with him but you know your heart will be just a little bit broken.

“Wait right here” he suddenly pipes up, taking your hands and pressing them into your lap before he extracts himself from the bed and runs over to the closet. You watch him closely, not exactly sure what he’s up to as he scavenges around at the top of the closet for a moment, rooting through a box you recognize that holds some of his military achievements that he said he didn’t want to hang up or have on display, a chapter of his life he had closed.

He seems to find what he’s been after and scurries back over to the bed, crawling across it on his knees until he’s back in front of you again and presses a small blue velvet box into your hands. You flip the lid open and a soft gasp leaves your lungs.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to do this” he shrugs. “I bought it weeks ago and I wanted to, you know, plan something big for you and then ask you but, I mean, what’s a bigger moment than this, right?”

Your eyes well up again (happy tears this time) as you stare down at the beautifully crafted diamond engagement ring that sparkles brightly despite the low lighting of your bedroom. The band is a beautiful rose gold, your favourite, and the cut of the diamond and style of the ring is one you’ve been dreaming about since you were a little girl. Clearly Frankie paid attention all those times you happened to pass by a jewelry store together.

“You’ve had this for weeks?” You ask through your tears, still not believing it, your dream actually coming true. Not only was Frankie asking you to marry him, but it was his idea and something he’d decided on long before he knew you were pregnant.

“Yeah I guess I’ll have to call off the marching band and the flash-mob dancers now though” he teases with a smirk. “Unless you want me to take it back and-” he goes to reach for the ring but you snatch the box out of reach, clutching it to your chest.

“Not on your life pal” you playfully threaten.

“Can I at least put it on you then?” he laughs. “That is, if you’re saying yes? Wait, let me…” he trails off and scoots off the bed again only to kneel down on one bent knee beside it. He reaches up and turns you so you’re facing him and a huge dopey smile spreads across your lips as you watch him want to do this at least somewhat properly. If anyone asks later you’ll leave out the part where he’s half naked when he popped the question.

“May I have that back, just for a second?” He asks and you oblige him, handing back the box.

He begins with saying your full name and your heart practically flutters in your chest as you take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure and get through this without being a weeping, blubbering mess.

“Would you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife?” he asks, slight tremble in his voice from his nerves and all you can do is give him a face splitting smile before you frantically nod your head and yank him up from the floor, crushing your mouth to his.

“Yes I’ll marry you Francisco Morales” you murmur against his lips between hungry kisses. “About damn time” you tease and he laughs at that as well. He knows he probably should have done this sooner but he’d been waiting to save up enough money to get you the perfect ring he knew you deserved.

Frankie regretfully pulls away from your mouth to carefully pull the ring from the box and place it on your finger before he holds both your hands in his and lets out a big sigh of relief.

“You make me so happy” he confesses, leaning down so his forehead rests against yours. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever given you any reason to doubt that, but you’re the best thing in my life. Best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making sure that you and this little one feel the same way about me”

“I will always feel the same way about you Frankie” you promise, eyes slipping shut as another tear escapes which Frankie gently brushes away with the pad of his thumb.

“You’re sure you’re still gonna love me when I’m even more of a pain in the ass in a few months than I am now?” You ask playfully and Frankie huffs a laugh but nods his head affirmatively.

“We’re locked in now baby” Frankie affirms, gently twisting the ring around your finger. “It’s you and me”

“Plus one” you add, looking down to your tummy and Frankie laughs.

“Plus one” he confirms. “And maybe down the line… more than one?” he asks playfully, moving a little closer and nuzzling into your throat before he begins to plant hot little open-mouthed kisses there. You laugh wholeheartedly, your head tossing backwards. Leave it to Frankie to learn five minutes ago that you’re barely pregnant and already asking you if you want another. You really did love him with all your heart and you don’t think you’ve ever been happier than in this moment.

And it turns out that was the truth, that was your happiest moment, until about seven months later a new one replaces it as you hold your beautiful daughter in your arms for the first time. Frankie is at your side with his forehead resting against yours as a tiny hand clutches around one of his large fingers, the one that happens to have a shiny gold band around it now, and tears flow freely down his cheeks. He’d barely gotten there in time for your unexpectedly two-week-early delivery, but he’d made it. Thankfully he was well enough known around the hospital by this point that they allowed him to land his bird on the helipad on the roof before he jumped out and let his co-pilot take over for him as he rushed inside to find you.

It turned out Frankie had found his calling not long after your little unexpected surprise all those months ago. His reflections on the direction his life was going, coupled with your exciting news of having an addition to your family, gave him the push he needed to have his career together in a way that was both rewarding and challenging to him and after a few months of long days and intense training he was accepted into the local Red Cross chapter’s Search and Rescue Program as a Lead Pilot. He loved his job again. He was proud of what he did and most importantly knew that his family could be proud of him too. It allowed him to give back and to serve his community and country the way he always felt he was meant for, except now he could do it and still be home in time for dinner most nights, not shipping out to god knows where for months at a time as he had done in the service.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Morales” the doctor beamed at the two of you, though neither of you could take your gaze off the tiny bundle in your arms long enough to look back at her. Frankie mumbled a polite ‘thank you’ towards her before pressing a kiss into your temple.

“You did it baby” he murmurs against your skin and you can feel the smile spread across his lips.

“We did it baby” you correct him, turning your head just slightly to press a kiss to the underside of his chin. “We made this beautiful, perfect angel” you sigh, nuzzling back in towards your daughter, inhaling that euphoric ‘new baby smell’ you’d up until now only read about but now completely understood.

“My girls” Frankie sighs, heart swelling with content at how goddamn lucky he got in his life.

“Thank you for loving me” he confesses, lips pressed to your temple.

Taglist: @nerdieforpedro @suzdin @iamasaddie @boliv-jenta @chronically-ghosted @vabeachazn @anotherpedrolover @axshadows @pedroshotwifey @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Writhe Beneath Me

More Summoned!König! This one is mainly you, Summoner, König just comes in the end to reassure you. Btw you're kinduva badass in this? You fight off a whole summon. I think the idea could be a bit more fleshed out later, but it's what I've got now.

Also, is this me sowing the seeds of a plot? Maybe!

Anyways!

TWs: graphic violence, gore, assault, killing a big ugly beast that's trying to kill you

Wordcount: 2.8k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

Writhe Beneath Me

You picked up your sword with one hand and held your vial of enchanted water in the other. You looked back at König, who gave you an assuring nod.

“C’mon summoner, you’re up first!” your drill sergeant called you from the bench.

“Do not worry, Summoner,” König whispered into your ears, “I will be here for you.”

You nodded as you stood and brushed yourself off. The scabbard of your sword in your hand felt heavier than before, almost as though König had been lightening the load for you. 

When you stepped into the light, you could see the drill sergeant’s crimson robes, the bright lights shining white off the silver embroidery woven artfully into the edges. His glare was shrouded by darkness, perfectly hidden from the light behind him. Something about the way he squared his chest and crossed his meaty forearms over each other set you on edge.

You scurried past him, ignoring the chuckles from a few of your teammates as you hauled yourself up and into the sparring ring.

“Right,” the sergeant addressed you gruffly, “you know the drill, but I’ll go over it again for the others. Get in the ring and banish whatever summon I bring up to come at ya,” he turned to the group, “when you’re out there working? You’re using your summons to fight yer battles, but other people are using theirs just the same. And remember: kill the summoner, kill the summon. So when you’re out there tryna use your summons to kill other summoners, same thing’s happening to you. That’s why,” the drill sergeant started tracing a pattern on the floor, “you need to be able to protect yourself against summons without using your summons.”

He stepped back and looked at you, and a chill ran through you. Something about the way he grinned seemed wrong, twisted and reflected in the wrong angle. It wasn’t right.

The glass behind you sealed behind you, closing you out from the rest of the world. You could see König melt back into the shadows. You frowned, but figured he'd be back soon enough.

“Alright summoner, let’s see whatcha got,” the man hopped out of the ring just as a black hole slowly started to grow on the ground.

It grew larger and larger as a long set of gnarled yellow ochre claws curled around the edge of the pool, breaking the surface tension with a ripple. You could smell something sweetly rotten coming from the pool as another hand, covered in welts and blisters like a pockmarked dalmatian, latched onto the opposite edge of the pool. Then another came out, and another and another until the entire edge of the pool was lined with long fingers with longer claws, a mustard yellow ring of fire around a gaping void of stars and cosmic gas.

You froze. Your eyes were wide as the ring before you when the hands clenched tight and heaved. Your teammates could hear your teeth chattering as a great yawning maw slowly raised up from the centre of the hole. It opened a series of jaws to reveal a burning green eyes whirling round in its socket before it finally turned to look at you. The way the corners of its mouths split into a smile had your knees buckling.

You could see a fellow soldier trying to scream something, but you couldn't hear them through the muffling glass.

The drill sergeant jumped to his feet, “Shut up and sit down! You’ve got a damn fine example of what’ll happen to you if you’re not prepared out there.”

You whipped your head to look at the man in despair.

“Oh come on,” the sergeant rolled his eyes, “this is just trimming the fat of the program. Can’t have deadweights out there in the field.”

“What do you-”

The monster finished hauling it’s serpentine body out of the hole in the floor, laying it’s grotesquely sweating body over the hard ground where the hole had once been. It’s body writhed worm-like on the cement as a row of arms swam up its body before encircling its head like a lion’s mane. It turned its body with a sicking squelch to see you and widened its many jaws of razor teeth.

“Oh fuck,” you whispered.

You dodged a flurry of palms all reaching out to you with a leap that sent you sprawling onto your back. You grunted and rolled, trying your best to get yourself back up onto your feet only for a hand to swipe your legs out from under you.

From the corner of your eye you could see your squad in their chairs. Some of them writhed against invisible restraints while the rest stared at you like they were watching a horror movie.

You could feel the wind getting knocked out of your chest when an arm raised you up and slung you to the back wall of the ring. Through the glass, you could see one of your friends trying to yell something. Maybe they were trying to cheer you on? You hoped so.

You rolled to avoid another flurry of palm strikes and managed to right yourself up onto your feet. The beast didn’t give you a chance to celebrate, instead curling its body like a snake before throwing its entire body at you.

You dodged and rolled again. Looks like all those falling classes paid off after all, you thought bitterly as you finally managed to draw your machete from its sheath. With a spit to the ground and a stretch of your neck, you lunged into action.

You zig-zagged your way through a myriad of limbs being thrown your way to try and drive your blade into the summon’s body, only to be knocked back by a sickly hand. You could smell the puss from one of its blisters burning into your robe, rich in sulphur and ash. It made your eyes water briefly.

Sensing an opportunity, the beast tried its best to curl around your body in a loose loop but you managed to wipe away the tears just in time for you to nick and opportune leap out of its snare. As you jumped, you took a sweep at its body with your knife to get a good blow to its body.

You were rewarded with slimy blood billowing up into the air, coating you in rank vomit green that stained deep into your clothing. The beast howled with an ear-splitting screech that had nearly had you at your knees, but you stood strong against it. You brandished your blade again and grit your teeth, ready for more.

The beast wove itself towards you in a criss-cross pattern with fluid agility. You only barely were able to react to it lunging at you with its teeth by ducking out of the way and scoring the beast’s belly. You snarled and dug deeper, thrusting your machete in before using your feet as an anchor point to rip the blade from the thick armoured skin.

You were greeted by a series of blue and purple organs splashing bodily fluids into your face. They burned bright hot into your skin, scorching white pain blinding you briefly as you thrashed to get out from under the beast.

You managed to squirm out as the beast tied itself into a knot before pulling itself free, much like a hag fish on a whale. You watched as the beast clamped its jaw shut, puncturing its own eye with its many teeth before opening it to try and see where you’d gone.

You, of course, had crawled behind a length of its body to effectively shield yourself from its vision. The drill sergeant was barking something at the summon, and in the brief moment it had to stop to listen, you managed to grip your blade and haul yourself to your feet once more. This time, you had a new target.

You managed to throw yourself behind the creature, using its own body to protect yourself from its many hands and nicked off one of the many hands on its arms. As the creature tried to get closer, you slashed the many hands from its arms, some coming clean off with a rush of smoke and others only hanging limply by the remains of skin and viscera.

You grinned. You had a strategy now.

The beast tried to flail its now useless limbs at you, but you managed to instead use them as leverage to get closer to the head, where the entire mane now rippled like a sea of wings. With a grunt and a leap, you managed to leap closer to the gaping maw of the eye.

The beast lunged forth, its many jaws widening as it prepared to snap you up, but you pushed further too quickly for it to react and managed to cleave the horrendous green eye clean in two. A rush of fluid coated you as it pooled around you, throwing you back until you were clean on the other side of the ring. You tried to wipe the thick mucus from your face, flailing to get to your feet, but once you managed to stand you saw that the beast was no longer a great wyrm of brimstone and hands, but now a deflated stretch of mustard skin, covered in its own blood and puss.

Only when you saw that the summon had been thoroughly banished did you fall to your knees with a splash into the mucous. Your eyes couldn’t open wide enough to be able to see the true expanse of what you’d just done. You, useless and pathetic summoner you, had just managed to kill a summon. You had lived, and it had died.

You tilted your head back to look into the blinding lights of the training grounds. The glass formed between you and your cohorts dissolved, and your squad managed to free themselves of their hold. Some of them ran from the room. You envied their abilities. Others you could feel hauling you to your feet, cheering you on and swearing down the sergeant that had flung this whole creature onto you.

You were hauled up to meet a familiar face, that of your friend’s.

“I can’t believe you’re alive,” her voice was broken with emotions.

“I can’t either,” you managed to sputter out around a bubble of viscous fluid running down your face.

Your friend turned, trying to find something, but she was quickly distracted by your bubbling hiccups.

“Fuck, we need to get you to the nursing station,” she hissed before turning to the others, “did any of you hear that? We need to get to the nursing station now!”

You were carried by many pairs of hands out the room and down the hall. You followed the twists and turns with eyes rolling in their sockets before you lost track of where you were. You closed your eyes, and let the people carry you off, letting the jostling of many hands wash over your limp body like a castaway at sea.

When you opened your eyes again, you were in a dark room with a pair of nurses chatting over your bedside. They turned to you with a pair of smiles.

“There you are!” the woman turned to face you with a gentle tone to her voice.

“How’re you feeling there?” the other man asked with a nasal affect.

“I’m…” you groaned as you dragged yourself to sit up, “I’m hurting real bad,” you admitted.

“I can imagine,” the woman chuckled, “you got a couple dislocations there and a pretty bad hit to the head.”

“We heard what happened out there,” the man picked up where she left off.

“What, in the training room?” you grumbled.

“What a mess,” the woman shook her head, “that man needs to be court-martialed.”

“I can’t believe anyone would do that,” the man whistled, “never heard of anything like this happening.”

You sighed and closed your eyes, leaning your head back on the scratchy pillow they’d provided for you.

“I can’t believe I’m alive,” you muttered.

“Nobody can,” the man laughed, “you took down a whole wraith all by yourself!”

Your eyes opened briefly, “A wraith? I can’t kill a wraith. I’m not that good of a summoner.”

“Well you best believe it ‘cause that’s what happened out there,” the woman laughed, “you’re being too hard on yourself. You’d have to be an amazing summoner to survive one of those, especially at your level of training. You’re what, not even a first year?”

You nodded weakly.

“The fact you’re alive is incredible,” the woman stepped to your side and placed a hand over a bandaged arm, “get some rest, alright? You’re not gonna be here for long, so you might as well get all the sleep you can get.

You didn’t need to be told twice.

When you next opened your eyes, you were washed in an unnatural darkness, only befitting one individual you knew.

“König?” you called out weakly.

“I’m here, Summoner.”

You tried to look to see him but it was too dark to make him out. All you could get was a slight shadow from the light of a monitor you���d been hooked up to.

“König,” you hissed as you took in a painful breath, “did you see everything that happened?”

König chuckled, “I saw.”

“The fuck’re you laughing for?” you grumbled, “I nearly died today.”

“Yesterday, technically,” König quipped.

“Yesterday!? How long have I been out for!?”

You could feel the deep rumbles of König’s laughter waving through you, “Only about six hours.”

“You had me thinking I’d been out for like, ten hours or something,” you huffed irritably.

“No, only eight. You were out for two when you spoke to the nurses, and another six later and I’m here,” König explained, “it’s about two in the morning now.”

“You woke me up at two?” you groaned.

“I figured now was a decent time,” König explained, “especially for what I would like to discuss with you. I’d rather not have any additional ears listen in.”

You rolled your eyes, “What’s so big that you need to wake me up at two in the morning to tell me?”

“Simple,” König answered smugly, “that the drill sergeant has been… Well, I couldn’t do much, but he’s no longer instructing on this base. That is all I was able to influence. What I wasn’t able to figure out was how far back this trailed.”

“How far back what trailed?” you were getting sick of König’s games.

“This deceit,” König sneered, “they didn’t expect you to live today. Normally, I would’ve been able to step in, but it seemed a far more powerful summoner had anticipated my arrival. They kept me busy while you struggled, which I am sorry about.”

His voice was strangely remorseful, something that was foreign to König’s usual way of holding himself.

“So your drill sergeant did not act alone, I’m afraid,” König sighed just as you felt a dip on the corner of your cot, “Summoner, you are not well liked on this base. It seems some are still against our partnership.”

Despite the medications in your system, you felt yourself sober up startlingly quickly. You sat up in bed to try and see König better, but it was for naught. He perfectly blended in with the darkness.

“Can’t you read their minds and go deal with them?” you asked.

“Were it that simple, Summoner,” König sighed, “unfortunately, whoever is against us is also quite wary of who I am. Normally I’d be flattered, but now it has become a hornet under my heel. I am afraid that if they were able to keep me from you for while you were in the ring, hiding their thoughts from me would’ve been as simple as breathing for them. So thus, I have no clue who is so interested in your demise.”

“So what do I do?” you asked nervously.

“You live, Summoner,” König replied, patting your knee affirmatively, “that is your best way of fighting against your adversaries. Live to spite them.”

“I don’t know how often I can go through what I went through toda-yesterday,” you sighed.

“Since I’m more aware of the situation, I can assure you that you won’t be alone next time,” König assured you, “so keep that in mind. Either way, I am most impressed by how you handled yourself.”

You smiled slightly, “You are?”

“I have told you many times, Summoner,” König sighed, “you are far more capable than you believe. Not all of summoning is about controlling and obtaining summons. Most of it is about learning to live when things do not go to plan. It’s about adaptability and overcoming adversaries. And today, you overcame quite the summon, didn’t you?”

You laughed, “I heard it was a wraith?”

“Indeed it was,” König confirmed, “so if you consider a wraith’s strength and size, you realize that you in fact have managed quite well today.”

“I guess I did pretty alright,” you fobbed him off.

“You know more of your worth now,” König leaned in close and pressed a small kiss to your forehead, letting the cloth mask brush against your face, “now rest. You’ve plenty of work ahead of you.”

You complained that you didn’t need to sleep any longer, but the room was empty once again. With a sigh, you turned and closed your eyes again.

Stories (Alternate Universe)

[everlasting-rainfall]

Ok so we seen Shanks vs Akainu in pages au but what if it was pirates vs pirates or marines vs marines;)

shanks vs Buggy maybe even Shanks vs Kaido

Akainu vs Garp maybe even Akainu vs Koby since we all know how that went when Koby yelled at him that one time 😈

but if you want another pirate vs Marine pairing who has potential working well together then I would suggest Garp and Roger or Luffy and Koby 👀

Those are some pretty interesting match ups that you have there, dearie! I’m kind of imagining like an old Mortal Kombat styled scene with like pixelated graphics and health bars with you being tied to a post in the background as the prize for the winner

It’s honestly kind of a funny thought to me in all honesty but enough wasting time, let’s get into it! I’m sorry if some of these aren’t that good by the way, I kinda struggled with this a bit

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT FOR ANY REASON-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Yandere, Violence, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Stalking, Blood Mention, Fighting, Getting Locked Up

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT FOR ANY REASON-!

So Shanks vs Buggy, I can’t see Shanks actively hurting Buggy even in a Yandere situation so I feel like how a fight between them would go down is probably like Buggy trying to fight Shanks and his crew

Maybe doing a bit well but it’s Shanks so without a doubt, he isn’t going to be able to do anything in the end so I feel like once Buggy has tired himself out that’s probably when Shanks offers him a proposition

He doesn’t want to hurt Buggy and Buggy wants you just like he does so why don’t they just share you?

I can only imagine Buggy’s reaction like this man shouts up a storm about how “No way, no deal! They’re mine! Not yours, keep your hands off of them!”

So Shanks just lets Buggy keep trying to steal you from them like no matter how complex the plan, Shanks just basically snags you back nearly every single time and probably leaves behind a note like “Offer is still in the air! 😁 -Shanks”

Eventually chances are that no matter how many times Buggy thinks that he has you, he keeps telling himself that he won’t give in and that you’ll be his and only his someday

However everyone has to break eventually so after Buggy puts his biggest plan to steal you and keep you with him forever in place only for Shanks to take you back a day later with the same note left behind, that’s when he’s probably surrender

He’d probably go walking off to Shanks and just be like “I’ll take you up on your offer now but only because I want to!! And I get her all to myself for an entire week!!” which Shanks agrees to

So all in all being fought over by Shanks and Buggy is basically just Buggy taking you then Shanks taking you until they agree to kind of share you

———————————

Shanks vs Kaido? Oh dear fucking lord… That can only go so horribly if they’re both chasing after the same person as if I remember then Kaido was actually on his way to Marineford when Shanks showed up during that arc

If they both have a crush on the same person then I pray for your well-being as I can imagine that Kaido probably had you first like he probably decided to make your island specifically part of his territory like man picked up your island and brought it closer to where his base is

Oh so graciously allowed the people of the island to live in exchange for you which caused you to become his tiny S/O who could fit in the palm of his hand and still have room to stretch themselves out and then some

Once Shanks found out about you though like let’s say that someone let information about Kaido’s S/O slip and that information spread until it reached Shanks, he was pretty interested and when he saw a picture of you that’s when he decided that he wanted you

And like what I’ve said before if one member of a crew is Yandere then expect all of them to be like Shanks’s crew were more than happy to go along with this idea of heading to Wano and snagging Kaido’s S/O as clearly you rightfully belong to Shanks as he loves you far more than Kaido does and more than the giant blue lizard (his words, not mine) ever could

And this is going to be one hell of a fight, Kaido is going to keep you with him or die horribly trying to like there has been quite a few attempts at taking you but they get you as far as almost on the ship before you’re stolen back

It’s terrifying, it’s loud, it’s bloody, and neither side is willing to give up until they have you

They’ll take breaks of course to rest and recover as they can’t fight forever and during that time, you better hope that you’re a master negotiator as otherwise this fight will either last forever or until one/both of them dies

This is kinda starting to sound like Broggy and Dorry to be honest but hey, whatever

In conclusion, Kaido and Shanks fighting over you kinda feels like a tower defense game as people are constantly coming from Shanks side to try and capture you while Kaido and the Beast Pirates defend you

The only problem comes from the fact that Kaido is more than likely at a disadvantage when it comes to fighting Shanks as I feel like Shanks is stronger

————————————

So Garp vs. Akainu as well? I’m sorry to say it but prepare to be married to Garp, Akainu doesn’t stand a chance against Garp as if Sengoku didn’t hold Garp down at Marineford then he would have killed Akainu plus we all see the feats that this man has accomplished

Let’s say that you were already Akainu’s Darling like he was a fairly alright Yandere to you if not terrifying as all hell like this man probably kidnapped you to keep you safe from the Pirate scum like “You’re pure and I won’t let a pirate taint you, you’re coming with me”

He doesn’t let you out of the house unless he’s with you as he knows he can protect you and that’s how you meet Garp, Garp is irritating to Akainu but he is a marine so he allows Garp to get close and look but not touch as if Garp tries to offer you a rice cracker or shake your hand then he’s smacking it away

Garp leaves you two alone with one thought in his head and it’s “How did a person as sweet as that wind up with Akainu of all people?” but regardless he continues on with his life with his mind very often drifting to you

Like he keeps imagining things with you and spacing out to random thoughts like he imagines going on dates with you and treating you far better than he thinks Akainu is doing as he envisions Akainu as this big scary lava monster that will burn you alive

At first, he doesn’t want to be a home wrecker by getting you to cheat with him but over time he starts to care less and less as he really wants you but alas he’s a marine and he can’t just go wrecking households for no reason other than “I love her” so he holds himself back reluctantly although he is very nice to you whenever he sees you with Akainu

Cut to Marineford and Marineford things happen, Garp is held down by Sengoku and Akainu lives albeit having been beaten down pretty bad

Garp is devastated by what happened and he tries to deal with things but as he’s dealing with things, his mind goes to you at one point albeit briefly and he realizes that you’re still married to Akainu and after what happened at Marineford. There’s no telling what could happen now

He’s going to save you so while Akainu is at Punk Hazard battling Aokiji, Garp breaks into your home and spirits you away with him to where he knows that he can keep you safe

Akainu will be pissed when he gets home and finds you gone especially with the clear signs that you were kidnapped, one of his first orders of business as Fleet Admiral will be tracking you down and getting you back

Your new husband isn’t worried at all though as if Akainu gets anywhere near you now then he’ll take care of it, Akainu can think all that he wants that he’ll have you back someday but while Garp is alive then nothing of the sort is happening

You’ll be staying right there with him and he’ll hear nothing about returning to Akainu like man’s expression visibly darkens if you bring up Akainu so it’s best to keep conversation topics about other things

At least you have more freedom with Garp, I guess? He’s definitely more protective and will join you if you go anywhere but he says you shouldn’t talk to anyone and let him do all the talking

It’s safe to just accept that Garp is your husband now, not Akainu and if Akainu ever tries to come for you then well it’s time to make the worlds hottest donut if you get what I mean

In conclusion, Garp vs. Akainu when it comes to you is just him stealing you and killing Akainu if he ever gets too close

————————————————

Ok so Akainu vs. Koby, huh? Yeah, we all did see what happened when Koby shouted at Akainu that one time and if I was writing this before the latest chapter then I would honestly say that Koby is someone who needs to back down and adore from afar while hoping that Akainu maybe dies an awful death

But after the latest chapter and also remembering that he was trained by Garp, I’d say that Koby would be able to give Akainu one hell of a fight if they were to fight over you and the odds would be against Koby

I feel like Koby’s best bet at keeping you with him would probably be to do what Garp did like grab you and run as I can’t see him willing to take Akainu on head on if Akainu wanted you as well like don’t get me wrong as if push came to shove then he’s going in

Luckily Akainu and Koby are somewhat reasonable people with Koby being way more reasonable than Akainu so you might be able to negotiate with them briefly to not get them to fight each other but that’s a small briefly because of Akainu as Koby will listen but Akainu will let you say like two words before it’s back to firing lava at Koby

Honestly I can’t see Koby being a Yandere that would actively kidnap you like he’d be the kind of Yandere where once you’re in a relationship with him, he’s clingy as fuck and barely leaves you alone especially if you live together but beyond putting you under prolonged house arrest for trying to leave, I can’t see it

So chances are that Akainu might actually kidnap you first over Koby and put you under permanent house arrest but maybe not so much house arrest as it is bedroom arrest until he can trust you to not run away from him

I can imagine though that Koby takes immediate notice of your disappearance and gets worried about you so he’ll probably go seeking you out and trying to figure out where you went

And if he finds out that Akainu has you then he’s not above putting a plan into motion that he calls Plan *Insert First Initial of Your Name*RFA which stands for *Your Name* Rescue From Akainu, it’s some pretty complex stuff too as he doesn’t want to just smash a window with a brick

When Koby has you though, he’s getting out of there and taking you with him so he can keep you safe and love you but eventually Akainu will probably find you and Koby. He’s not mad at you, well he sort of is but that’s besides the point

Koby probably will get a few new scars as Akainu steals you back and brings you home where you’re under serious lockdown like we’re talking ankle monitor more than likely and probably not being allowed to leave the bed except for basic necessities

Don’t expect to be there long though as Koby does intend to have you back eventually, it’s just that now he needs to a second edition of the plan with a better place to hide you and he’s not going to stop like even if you tell him to

He all but sees you as the princess in a tower with Akainu as a fire breathing dragon and him as the brave knight whose coming to save you

Chances are that he doesn’t even give a shit if he gets a few burn scars on the way out as it’ll be worth it when the drago- I mean, Akainu stops stealing you back

In conclusion, Akainu vs. Koby would probably boil down to a game of hide and seek until either Koby gets himself killed or Koby manages to either kill Akainu or hide you somewhere where Akainu legitimately can’t find you

—————————————

Garp and Roger fighting over you? I can personally see that fight lasting forever or at least until Roger dies, I think it would be pretty funny though if you just had no clue what was going the whole time so let’s go with that for this one

So imagine that you’re basically some kind of traveler and every island that you wind up going to if you stay there long enough then you will run into Gol D. Roger himself or Monkey D. Garp like you’ve been keeping record of how long it takes for one of them to show up on every island, it happens so much

Roger typically just throws his arm around your shoulders and greets you as if you were an old friend, he offers you to join his crew for a party and asks about any new adventures that you may have had recently while Garp just finds you and starts up a conversation with you like he’s pretty loud about it and maybe even offers you a rice cracker or two as he offers you to come with him to visit a marine base

Both situations would cause you to never be separated from them again if you agreed by the way but anyways, I can imagine that they always just have this serious look of disappointing on their faces whenever you decline

I can’t imagine the two of them immediately just jumping into a fight over you like it wouldn’t take long but it wouldn’t be just like greet each other then fight

Both of them are incredibly tough so I can imagine that any fight between them goes on without a winner like Yandere or not, Roger is going to put the needs of his crew first a lot of the time which I can see Garp accepting and saying he’ll let Roger go for the time being but maybe also throwing a few canon balls his way when Roger is leaving

Meanwhile as these fights are happening, you’re just like listening to music in the background being completely oblivious like it’s that one Spider-Man meme of like Spider-Man and the enemy fighting in the background while Stan Lee listens to music

Anyways enough jokes, my apologies…

Eventually one of them is likely going to capture you and bring you with them, I can imagine that because of how their fights for you are at a stalemate constantly then chances are that you’re never going to be leaving that person

The only reason why I can see Garp finally getting you is when Roger is executed and you’re in tears because Stockholm syndrome or maybe you actually fell in love with him then Garp will be there as a shoulder for you to cry on

He’ll comfort you through your grief and make you smile again eventually managing to get you to enter a relationship with him and boom, you’re stuck with another Yandere

The only way that I could see that scenario not being the case is if Roger asked one of his trusted crew members to keep an eye on you like Rayleigh or Gaban, hell I can even see you being entrusted to Shanks or Buggy when they get old enough like “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of Mom/Dad! No one will lay a hand on them!” because without a doubt they do see you as one

It doesn’t mean that Garp is going to stop trying though as he’ll always be there just watching and waiting for the perfect chance for him to get close and take you away

As for if Garp is the winner who eventually got you then you’re definitely saddened by Roger’s death as you were close but I can’t see any of Roger’s old crew trying to come after you, he definitely spoke about you but I can’t see him asking them to steal you from Garp as there’s no real point now that he’s dead

As for if you were present during Ace’s birth or his childhood? I feel like you weren’t there for Ace’s birth but you may have been occasionally with Garp when he went to visit Ace, Luffy, and Sabo but I don’t think enough to where they would actively remember you

In conclusion, Garp vs Roger feels like it boils down to a game of capture the flag but both parties are too busy fighting to actually capture the flag

———————————————

Now then Luffy vs Koby? I can personally see the two of them honestly deciding to ultimately share you at first to some extent as the two of them appear to be on somewhat good terms despite the fact that Luffy is a Pirate and Koby is a Marine

You know if you don’t count anything that involves the two of them fighting or Koby trying to catch Luffy as he’s a pirate and all but regardless, Koby is a good Marine and Luffy is a good Pirate so to an extent, I feel like they might decide to share you

This extent being that although they share you, sometimes Luffy won’t hand you off to Koby for his time with you and will try to make you stay with him while Koby does the same as he attempts to subtly convince you to stay with him

I’d recommend for either of their sake but mostly Koby’s sake to not pick either of them and just continue this life of being periodically passed between them and if you don’t want to see bloodshed or fighting then I’d recommend doing your best to convince Luffy and Koby to stick to the rules that were put in place

Koby would be easy to convince but Luffy, not so much as that man is as stubborn as a mule so you will have to make him one hell of a deal so you prevent a fight breaking out but then again even that might not work so a fight may be inevitable

And when they do fight against each other over you then I would say that Koby could put up a good fight against Luffy but I think that we all know who is winning this and walking away with you in the end and it isn’t Koby

I couldn’t see Luffy ever killing Koby but beating him so bad that he’s black and blue? Especially considering that Luffy is Yandere for you then he’ll gladly do it as many times as he needs to until Koby gets the message to stay away

But seeing as Koby is a Yandere for you as well then I don’t think that’s going to be any time soon, you can try to ask him to just stay away for his own sake if you run into him while alone but he won’t listen and will simply take you and get moving

Don’t expect to get too far though as soon enough, you’ll see an angry rubber man chasing the two of you or if you made off of the island then the Thousand Sunny chasing after the ship that Koby has you on

Either way, Luffy isn’t going to pull an Akainu and potentially kill Koby but he will get more and more irritated each time that Koby does show up to try and steal you away from him

Sometimes you probably do miss the days where Koby and Luffy would sort of share you between one another

In conclusion, Luffy vs. Koby probably feels like a game of keep away in all honesty where Luffy is keeping you away from Koby

[honeyjars-sims]

2.26 Are You Satisfied?

[Lexie is outside studying by the pool. She’s staring at Cece, who is sunbathing. Johnny approaches her.]

Johnny: Hey, whatcha doing?

Lexie: Oh, nothing, I just zoned out. 

Johnny: What’s on your mind?

Lexie: Do you think we have a good sex life? Like are you satisfied?

Johnny: Wait, is this because of the conversation we had with our friends the other day?

Lexie: [nervously] Huh? What do you mean?

Johnny: Because I said I could see myself possibly being attracted to a guy. That doesn’t bother you or something, does it?

Lexie: Oh, no, I don’t care about that. It’s pretty obvious you’re attracted to me.

Johnny: Ok, so what made you bring up our sex life?

Lexie: Nothing, I was just feeling a little insecure. I think I’m going to walk over to Izzy and Kelsey’s. I told them I’d stop by today.

Johnny: Okay, I’m about to head over to my mom’s for her birthday party, so I guess I’ll see you later.

[Lexie walks to Izzy and Kelsey’s apartment]

Lexie: It’s just everything you were saying about compulsory heterosexuality aligned with how I’ve been feeling about Johnny. 

Kelsey: So you think you might be gay?

Lexie: I don’t know. Like, sex is okay, but I don’t feel what everyone else describes. I just feel empty, then I feel guilty for feeling empty because it seems to mean so much to him.

Izzy: Could you be asexual?

Lexie: I don’t think so. At first I thought maybe I could be. I’ve never really gotten butterflies around anyone...but then that changed.

Kelsey: I’m assuming it’s not Johnny you’re talking about.

Lexie: No. It’s so awful. I feel like the worst person in the world.

Izzy: Lexie, you can’t help the way you feel.

Kelsey: Yeah, you didn’t know. Who is it that you’re attracted to?

Lexie: That’s why it’s so horrible. It’s his sister, Cece.

Kelsey: Oh, Lexie. 

Lexie: I know. I couldn’t figure out why I hated her boyfriend or why I felt so hurt when she didn’t want to spend time with me. But I think it’s because I felt like she was choosing him over me. Which is silly because she’s straight, and I’m dating her brother.

Izzy: So what are you going to do?

Lexie: I feel like I should break up with him, but what if I’m wrong?

Kelsey: I know you care about Johnny, but do you think you could ever feel the same way about him that he does about you?

Lexie: Probably not. Ugh, this sucks! He’s going to be so heartbroken. The last thing I want to do is hurt him. He means so much to me.

Izzy: If he means so much, then I’m sure you want him to be with someone who can truly love him. He won’t get that chance if you keep stringing him along.

Lexie: [sighing] You’re right.

Kelsey: Look, I know this is a lot to process. You don’t have to do anything right now. Why don’t you come with us to a gay club this weekend? 

Izzy: Yeah, maybe being out in the community will help you feel less anxious about everything.

Lexie: I guess I can give it a try.

The next story post contains the following trigger warnings: C-PTSD, PTSD, child abuse. There is also a gif in the post. The post is tagged for the triggers and "gif warning." There is no graphic imaging in the post, but use your discretion if those topics are triggering to you.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[giggly-squiggily]

I've been thinking abt this for head cannons to drabbles

Mikey and Draken right righttt. I totally think Mikey is a food thief and steals when no one is looking and Draken totally gets him for it. Most likely cause he's always a victim from it!

(Headcanons to Dabbles: OFFICIALLY CLOSED)

((Mini author's note: I won't be posting dabbles this Saturday due to being out of town! Dabbles will resume Sunday!)

AHH THIS IS GOLD! I love Draken and Mikey so much! And the whole food thief thing is so canon? I think it actually legit is given Mikey ate his dessert in that one flashback episode? Anyway- this is adoarable and I love it very much! I've gotcha covered, anon!

CW: Sick mention (Nothing graphic- but figured I'd throw that in there)

Draken sat down with two pop tarts.

When he turned back from talking to Baji, there was one.

“MIKEY!” He roared, glaring at the smaller blonde. “You don’t mess with a man’s pop tart! Especially not the strawberry kind!”

“W-What?” Mikey tried for innocence, but his cheeks were puffed, and there were crumbs all over his face. “I didn’t take it!”

Draken raised a brow. Mikey swallowed the last bite of his snack, having the humility to at least look sheepish.

“Well…maybe I took a bite or two..”

“You son of a- come here!” Draken grabbed him by the collar, pulling him forward. Any other person would think they were about to get into a proper brawl, but Toman’s members knew what was up.

“Whoa-Whahahha! Aheahhahahhahah! K-Kehehehehenny, sthahahahhap!” The smaller of the two practically shrieked as his ribs were attacked, Draken merciless in his delivery. “Cohohohome ohohohon, I’m gohohoohnna be sihihihihick!”

“I highly doubt that. Oi- watch those hands, Baji!” He didn’t look up from tickling the other to know his next move. “Touch it and you’re next.”

“Damn.” Baji laughed as he pulled back, leaving the remaining pop-tart be.

“Nohohoho, Bahahhhaji! Taahhahake it! Thahhahke the pohohohoptart and ruhuuhhuuhn!” Mikey cried, reaching out helplessly towards it. “Sahhahave me-EEHEHEHHEEH!”

“Save you from what? Yourself?” Draken snickered as he wiggled a few fingers into Mikey’s armpits, making him cackle and shrink back into himself. “These are the consequences of your actions. Deal with it.”

“Aheahahhahaha! Wahhahait, wahhhait whahhait whahhait tihiihme ohohout! Deahahhhadass I feeheheheel sihihiick!” Draken immediately stopped at their safeword, helping Mikey back in his seat as he doubled over, groaning. “Ehehehehe..heheheheeh..ohoohow, my behehelly..”

“Karma’s a bitch.” Draken chided, though he gently rubbed the other’s back as Mikey took slow giggly breaths. “But I suppose you have learned your lesson. Now you know not to take my p-” He turned back to find the wrapper empty. “Poptart…”

Silence. Draken looked towards the guys, eyes locking onto Mitsuya and the poptart in hand.

“Eh…a fly landed on it?” The tailor offered, eyes widening as Draken stood. “No- No Draken I’m sorry! I’ll buy you another one!” He gave the rest of the treat to Baji before running for the hills, Draken hot on his trail. Seconds later, laughter could be heard all over again.

Lesson learned; best not mess with Draken’s food, else you will suffer greatly.

[fishcowwrites]

In The Stars - RedFinch Military AU

Albert DaSilva x Finch Cortes from Newsies

2.5k words cross posted on ao3 under cut

Title from the song by Benson Boone which was on repeat as I wrote this to establish ✨vibes✨

Any inaccuracies regarding military death notifications can be taken up with Fort Lee Casualty Assistance Center Casualty Notification Guide for the Casualty Notification Officer pdf from 2013 that I found online.

TW: major character death, mentions of vomiting (non graphic), mentions of self harm (not really graphic)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Albert was deployed, Finch was distraught. He didn’t want his husband to leave him, let alone leave their daughter.

“It’s just ten months. Not even a year. I’ll be back before you know.” They were both trying not to cry for the sake of Lily, who was not quite old enough to understand what was happening but not young enough to be ignorant of it all.

“Papa, what’s happening?” Albert knelt down next to her, gently taking her hands.

“I have to go, lilybug. Just for a little bit. Not a long time. I’m coming back soon, ok? Be good for your daddy.” Albert scooped her up, passing her into Finch’s arms. He hugged the two of them, then leaned in for one final kiss. “I’ll see you soon, I promise. Just ten months, yeah?” he spoke quietly, pressing his forehead against his husband’s. Finch nodded, choking back his tears.

“Just ten months.”

Then Albert was leaving, and Lily was crying, and maybe Finch was crying too, but he couldn’t tell. The rest of the day was a blur. The two of them headed back home, where Race and JoJo were waiting. JoJo took a now sleeping Lily to her bed while Race got some water for Finch.

“What if he doesn’t come back? What if I never see him again? What would I tell Lily?” Finch was hyperventilating, his hands shaking as he sobbed. Slowly, Race turned Finch towards him.

“Look at me. Look at me, Finch. Albert will be okay. It’s just ten months. He’ll be fine. I promise.” Race tilted Finch’s head up, nodding with what he hoped was a comforting smile. “Albert will be back before you know it.”

Those were the words that ran through his head when a soldier showed up at his door 7 months later.

“Daddy?” Lily called out. “There’s a man at the door.” Finch ran to the front hall.

“Lilybug, what did I tell you about answering the door? You gotta-“ He froze, taking in the crisp uniform and the stoic expression of the man who wore it. “Can I help you?” The man pursed his lips. “Are you Patrick DaSilva-Cortes?” Slowly, Finch picked up Lily, trying his best to ignore the dread creeping into his bones.

“Yeah, can I help you?”

“I am Captain Sam Robinson from Company A, 2nd Battalion, 21st Ordnance, from Stuttgart, Germany. I have an important message to deliver from the Secretary of the Army. May I come in, Mr. DaSilva-Cortes?"

Finch knew exactly what was happening. He had imagined it in his head over and over, and all the ways it could go, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the shock. It felt like he was drowning, with muffled sound and no air. All he could do was nod.

The captain stepped aside, revealing a younger man dressed in a slightly different uniform.

“This is Chaplain Steve Lewis. Is there somewhere we can sit down to talk?”

Wordlessly, Finch led them the living room, clutching Lily tightly. He moved to sit on the couch before stopping to look at the captain.

“What,” Finch closed his eyes, willing himself to stay composed. “What do I do with Lily? She can’t-“ he stopped as she looked up at him, eyes wide.

At barely three, Lily Patricia DaSilva-Cortes was shaping up to be sharper than both of her fathers. She had Albert’s flaming red hair and Finch’s love for music, as well as the penchant for mischief that both men shared. And above all, he loved her with his whole heart. How could he make her leave now?

“It’s nothing, darling. I’m staying with you.” He sat down, gesturing for the two men to do so as well. Carefully, he did his best to cover Lily’s ears before nodding for them to start.

The older one cleared his throat, looking Finch straight in the eye.

"The Secretary of the Army has asked me to express his deep regret that your husband Albert died in Germany on October 19th. His truck crashed in an accident. The Secretary extends his deepest sympathy to you and your family in your tragic loss."

That was it. Those were the words that Finch had been dreading ever since he knew Albert was going to leave. Those were the words that haunted him every day and every night as he prayed he would never have to hear them. And those were the words being said to him in the house he had built with Albert, holding the daughter they had raised together. The man was saying something that Finch couldn’t quite make out, but this couldn’t be real, it couldn’t be real, it can’t be real, and-

Finch felt something. Two tiny hands reaching for his shaking ones. That brought him back to the moment.

“Daddy, what’s this man saying? What happened? What’s happening?” Lily was on the verge of tears, her childish mind trying to find reason in the unreasonable.

“Nothing’s happened, dear. Nothing’s happened.” Finch wanted to just close his eyes and wake up from this nightmare, but he couldn’t. Not when the nightmare was simply reality.

“Why are you crying then?” She was too smart for her own good, really. He didn’t know what to say. How could he tell her?

“Sir, is there someone I can call?” The man was talking to him again. At least this was a question he could answer. Finch nodded, reaching for his phone. His contacts. Albert’s name stood there at the top, but he ignored it. Anthony Higgins. Call. There must’ve been some mercy left in the universe, as he picked up quickly.

“Yeah, Finch?”

Oh god. Race was Albert’s closest friend.

“Hello?”

What could he say? What could he possibly say in this moment?

“Are you there?”

Finally, Finch found his voice.

“I need you. At the house. JoJo too. It’s an-“ His voice caught on the last word. “It’s an emergency.”

Race must have sensed the tone of his voice, because he could immediately hear action on the other side of the phone.

“Shit, yeah. Are you okay? Is Lily okay?”

Finch nodded for a bit, until he remembered Race couldn’t see him.

“Yeah. Yeah. But, um,” Breaths. Deep breaths. He could do this. “Please hurry.” Finch could here Race calling for JoJo; they must have been at their place. He heard the rustle of their shoes, the click of the door, the beep of the car.

“The GPS says 10 minutes. Are you fine? Do we need to call someone?” Why was breathing so hard? Why couldn’t he breathe? It was Lily’s touch that kept him grounded, at least momentarily.

“No, no, 10 minutes is fine. You don’t need to call anyone. See you then.” He hung up quickly. He didn’t know how much longer he could’ve held on. Finch looked up at the man desperately, unsure of what to say next. Thankfully, he spoke up.

“We can stay with you until they arrive.” Finch nodded gratefully, running one hand through his daughter’s hair. He held her close, praying to whatever god was left that Race and JoJo would show up soon.

When they knocked on the door, the other man stood up to get it. He led Race and JoJo to where Finch and Lily were sitting. Finch could see them putting the pieces together and the shock of realization that flashed across their faces. They both turned towards the captain, gripping each other’s hands tightly. Race spoke first.

“Is Albert-“ He shook his head, unable to say those horrible words. JoJo stepped forward, holding onto Race like he was a lifeline.

“What happened?” The man turned towards Finch, seemingly asking for permission. Finch nodded, unable to see how he could tell them himself.

“The Secretary of the Army has asked me to express his deep regret that Albert died in Germany on October 19th. His truck crashed in an accident. The Secretary extends his deepest sympathy to you and your family in your tragic loss.”

Race’s mouth dropped open in horror as JoJo reached back to steady him. Carefully, he sat Race down next to Finch and took Lily out of Finch’s arms.

“Thank you…”

“Captain.”

“Well, thank you captain. Do you need anything else?” JoJo’s voice was carefully measured as he reached out to shake the man’s hand. The man turned back towards Finch, taking out a clipboard and a pen.

“Once again, you are Patrick DaSilva-Cortes?” Finch nodded numbly; he knew that this man had business he needed to do.

“This is your place of residence and your mailing address?

Another nod. Another scribble on the clipboard.

“And you phone number is xxx-xxx-xxxx?”

Finch nodded again, now desperate for the man to leave. He had put the clipboard away and taken out a paper, which he handed to Finch.

“That paper has more information, as well as the contact information for your casualty area command. A casualty assistance officer will contact you sometime in the next 24 hours to arrange another visit. Please do not make arrangements for his remains until you have been fully briefed by them.”

Casualty. Remains. All words that now described his Albert. The man stood up from his chair, taking a deep breath before addressing Finch one final time.

“Mr. DaSilva-Cortes, I must be returning to Stuttgart. Again, on behalf of the Secretary of the Army, please accept the United States Army's deepest condolences.”

Then he walked out the door, the other one trailing behind. Everything was silent. Silence. Finch hated silence. Albert always knew what to say. But Albert was gone.

Albert was gone.

“I’m just gonna, y’know.” JoJo looked calm somehow, still holding Lily. He went off to put her down.

“Finch, god, I don’t-“ Race’s mouth hung agape as he tried to find the right words, but Finch couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Albert will be okay. It’s just ten months. He will be fine. You promised me, Race! You promised he would be fine! You promised-“ Finch gasped before running into the bathroom, barely making it as he collapsed in front of the toilet. Race was on his tail, slamming against the door frame as he ran towards Finch.

“Shit shit shit shit shit. Do I need to call-Do I need to see if I can get that guy back here? Do you need like an ambulance?” Race was crying now, but his worry for Finch overtook anything else he was feeling. “I need Albert. I need Albert. I need Albert. I need-“ Finch was cut off by another round of violent heaving, gasping for air all the while. He couldn’t take it anymore. His skin felt too tight on his body, restricting his movement and not letting him breathe. He needed to tear it off, tear it off, tear IT-

Race’s hands covered his own, refusing to let him harm himself. “I’m calling someone, okay? JoJo has Lily, they’ll be fine together. This time I promise. I’m sorry I can’t-I just can’t.”

Race stepped out of the bathroom, pulling out his phone. Finch stayed there, hunched over the toilet, just crying. Eventually, he heard sirens. Voices. Hands on his body, lifting him up, placing him on something soft. Wires and cuffs and beeps and white. So much white. White sheets, white walls, white gowns, white ceilings, white floors. And pink. Pink? A flower. A lily.

“Uncle JoJo said you would like it.”

His Lily. Standing there. Scared.

“Where’s papa?”

Oh. JoJo stepped into his vision, followed closely by Race. His voice was soft, as if they were all glass that could shatter.

“We told you, honey. He’s-“ Finch could here JoJo take a deep breath, with Race saying something to him quietly.

“He’s gone, honey.”

“But when is he coming back? He said he would come back. Why won’t he come back?”

She was crying now, far too young for this tragedy. JoJo picked her up, muttering an apology as he left. Race sat down next to Finch’s bed, taking one of his hands. They stayed there for a while until a nurse came in a said that Race had to go. All the white turned to black as Finch slipped into unconsciousness.

He dreamt of Albert, sitting on the docks in Brooklyn. He dreamt of Albert, dancing in the rain. He dreamt of Albert lying in their bed, holding their daughter. Don’t go, he tried to say. Don’t leave, it’s not worth it. But Albert couldn’t hear him. More scenes of him passed by. Albert swimming, eating ice cream, watching tv, reading a book, playing with Lily at the playground. The day he asked Albert out, the day Albert proposed, the day of their wedding, the day they brought Lily home from the hospital. Their whole life together, blurred together through time. When Finch woke up, he was crying.

The funeral was hard. Hell, everything was hard. Lily was trying her best to understand, and Race and JoJo were trying their best to help them. They helped Finch tell the rest of their friends. Jack, Davey, Les, Sarah, Katherine, Crutchie, Romeo, Elmer, Buttons, Mush, Specs, Tommy, Mike, Ike, and Spot were all at the funeral. Finch tried to say something, he really did. Thankfully, Race had his back and gave the speech instead. He was glad when the whole thing was over. He just wanted to go back home.

Race and JoJo, bless them, stood by Lily and Finch for the rest of their lives. Slowly, they all learned to heal. Support groups, therapy, time. Some days were harder than others. Albert’s birthday, and their wedding anniversary. Those were days when Finch couldn’t get out of bed, days when Lily cried simply because her dad did. But time passed, no matter how slowly it did.

On Lily’s 18th birthday, there was a video. Something Finch had never thought they would have use for, but something that he had convinced Albert to make just in case. The sight of Albert’s face was enough to bring tears to their eyes, and the sound of his voice almost made Finch turn the tape off. But he didn’t.

“Hey, Lilybug. Happy 18th birthday! I hope you never have to see this, and I’m sorry if you do. I bet you’ve grown quite a lot, now! I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there today. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there every day. Hopefully, you’ve been good for Father Finch there. I wish I could see who you’ve grown up to be. I hope you know I’m proud of you, regardless of whatever has happened. I love you!”

As Albert leaned in to turn off the camera, Finch could see the tears in his eyes. He was crying now, and Lily was too. He tried to apologize, but she wouldn’t let him. As he hugged her tightly, she just whispered “Thank you.”

And 35 years later, as Finch laid in his hospital bed with his daughter by his side, all he could think about was finally seeing Albert again.

“I’ll see you soon, huh?” Finch laughed a little. “I’ll see you soon.”

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tysm for reading! hope this wasn't too shit

[billcipher-rpblog]

Ya know what I’m just gonna post the entire story, it’s so fucking long, warning this has some graphic stuff

“So what are you doing for dinner?” I asked my friend as we walked down the street. “I don’t know, mac and cheese maybe?” We proceeded to walk down the street, the shops soon ended and the neighborhood began. As we walked further Jack's house came into view “see you later” he blurted as he jogged back to his house, my hand slowly raised and slightly waved “bye” I said quietly. As I walk a little longer to my house the sun starts to go down and the yellowish lamp posts flicker on, one by one illuminating the streets, when I get to my house the sun has already gone down, I pull out my copper and silver keys attached to a silver ring, they make clunking sounds as I lift them to the door. I hear the door unlock as the keys rotate, I twist the handle and pull the door toward me, my dirt embedded shoes stepped through the door frame, I kicked off my shoes, one landed upside down, and the other hit the wall leaving a light brown scuff.

I walk to my room, it has a large bed, a dark blue blanket and pillow, fake vines draped across the ceiling twined with string lights, and at the corner of my bed there is a small mountain of stuffed animals. I walk to the edge of my bed and face plant into the pile of toys, I roll off them and into the open part of my bed, I pull out my phone and go to texts “whatcha doin” I text to Jack, a small buffering symbol popped up on his side “eating mac and cheese” he texted, “what are you doing” he asked back “nothin much, just laying in bed” I replied. “Noice” he replied, I chuckled “wanna hang out tomorrow” I asked “sure” he replied, I put my phone on my light stand and went to bed.

In the morning I slid on my dirt embedded shoes under the scuff on the wall “I’ll clean that up later” I said as I slid on my sweatshirt, I pulled out my keys and I fumbled them but caught them before they fell, I exited my house and locked the door. I was in an upbeat mood as I went to Jack’s house, once I got there I knocked on the door, there was no reply, so I knocked again, but still no reply. I walked to the side of the house and looked through the window, the lights were on, there was half eaten food on the table “where was he” I thought impatiently. I slid the unlocked window up and hoisted myself through the window, I walked along the wall and turned on the lights, I wandered around the unfamiliar place looking for Jack, I opened one of the doors along the hallway, I’m pretty sure it was Jack’s bedroom so I went inside “Jack? Jack, are you here?” I loudly whispered. I walked around the small bed, my eyes widened as I let out a sharp gasp, I started to get light headed, I stumbled back in fear and fell to the ground, I pulled myself slightly back away from what I saw. I covered my mouth with my hand as I let out sharp breaths, tears gathered in my eyes, my vision went blurry as tears poured down my face and puddles on the floor.

What I saw was horrific, it was Jack, lying lifeless on the floor, a puddle of blood gathered beneath him, and a kukri point knife dripping with blood stabbed deep into the wooden floorboards next to him, the shiny silver was being suffocated by the thick, dark red blood. I pulled myself farther back as my face turned pale and covered with tears, and my hand grasping at my mouth as I gasped for air, I choked on my tears as I pulled myself up on Jack’s bed and stumbled out the door, my legs started to feel weak when I tried to get out of the room, I gagged and felt like I was gonna throw up, I went to the trash can and started to throw up brownish yellow chunk filled slop into the plastic trash can.

I stood up and wiped my mouth of the remaining throw up and then I heard a siren, slowly getting louder, I looked out the window next to the door and saw a flashing red and blue light getting brighter and the siren getting louder, I flailed to the open window that I opened earlier and lowered myself out of the window, I stayed as still as I could as I watched the police bust down the door from the window “we know your in here, come out with your hands behind your head” they shouted as they wandered through the house, I watched them go into Jack’s bedroom “in here” one shouted as the others ran into the room to see, one slipped on the floor and fell onto the others and pulled them down with him “marshal watch where you're going” one of them shouted while punching the shoulder of the one that slipped.

I slowly lowered myself all the way out the window and ran to the back of the house and ran across the many backyards of the neighborhood to get to my house, I slipped on one of the freshly watered lawns and let out a loud wheeze “I heard something over here” one of the police officers said as a flashlight flew behind me, I ran faster to get away from them, then I heard the sirens again, I turned my head to the street and saw the cop car speeding after me. I turned to the left and I run as fast as I possibly can, I glance back and I see flashing red and blue lights as the siren got quieter, I look forward and I trip over a giant log, I tumble down a hill “AAAAAAAAHHHHH” I scream as I am unable to stop myself as my arms reach out and flail around.

I roll down the hill as sticks and thorns claw at my shirt and pants, I can barely see the world spinning by me as I tumble down the hill, suddenly I hear a loud thud then darkness, I lay on the moss and pine needle covered ground. A little while later I sat up “what happened” I asked myself as I rubbed my head, I winced as I rubbed my forehead, I pulled my hand away quickly, I touched my forehead again, and I winced once again. I grabbed the tree that I hit and propped myself up, I felt light headed for a moment but then it stopped, I looked around, this place was unfamiliar and dark, the sun was starting to rise to my right, the light was a golden yellow as it seeped through the trees and resting on the mossy ground.

I looked around for anything familiar but nothing looked recognizable, I must of gotten mixed up when I fell down the hill, I wandered around toward the sun because I remember the sun rises in front of my house so I kept walking and walking, soon I stumbled into someone’s backyard, a loud deep barking came from the yard, I looked up and saw a large bulky, short haired dog, with dark gray fur and brown paws, I backed away from the dog and went to the front yard, I looked to the left then to the right, I jogged across the street to the local coffee shop and ordered a medium coffee with milk and two sugars. I sat down at one of the tables and took a sip from the steaming hot coffee, I sighed as I put the coffee down.

Someone came over and sat down across from me. I looked up, she had very short hair, it was sorta messy and flowed back, she had lovely hazel eyes and had wire rimmed glasses. She was looking down at a news paper, I saw my face on the back, I tried to hide my gasp as I read the headline “brook is wanted for murder and is still at large” with my picture below, the girl turned the newspaper over to read the back, her eyes widened and she slowly looked up, she raised her hand and pointed at me “y-y-you… YOU'RE A MURDERER!!” She shouted, and other people in the coffee shop looked at me “I’M NOT A MURDERER, I DIDN'T DO IT, I WAS FRAMED!!” I blurted as I ran into the glass door, I pushed on the door again but it didn’t budge, I tried again but it still didn’t open, then I looked at the knob, it was a pull door so I pulled it open, I felt ridiculous as I ran out the door.

I ran to an abandoned warehouse to hide from the police if the people in the shop called any, I went to a low window with a large crack draped across it and I elbowed it until the crack got bigger and more cracks appeared, then I slammed my elbow once more into the window and it shattered, broken glass blanketed the floor. The sun glistened on the shattered glass as I jumped up through the window, I walked across the floor and the glass crunched and cracked under my feet. I walked around the abandoned warehouse for a while, I looked in a large room with boarded up windows on the opposite wall, I walked in and found a desk, lined with paper and dust, I went to the back of the desk and found a partially open drawer, I wrapped three of my long slender fingers onto the dusty handle and pulled it open to find a piece of paper with pictures of kids with their names listed below, one was a girl named Isabella Johnson with pigtails and a crooked tooth, and on the picture a big red X covered the girls face. I looked along the page, more kids, and more X’s, then I looked to the left of the page and I saw Jack's face with a large X covering it and under it it said Jack Aklinn, lucky I wasn’t on the list but I had to stop whoever was doing this.

Suddenly I heard a sound, the tapping of shoes slowly walking down the hallway, I bolted to the closet across the room and hid inside, from inside I could sort of see the person but I couldn’t see their face. They walked toward the desk then stopped and slowly walked to the back of the desk, they looked at the still open drawer then looked up and looked around “Hey!” They blurted “I know someone is there, come out now” they looked around as they slammed the drawer. I could barely move in the cramped closet, I looked around for anything I could use to escape, then I saw it, a cold small black handgun, with a fully loaded chamber and some extra bullets next to the gun. I picked it up, my hands wrapped around the cold metal of the gun, my finger slid over the trigger, I examine the small gun, then I lift it up to the door right where I could see the other person, my finger slowly puts weight upon the trigger “I couldn’t possibly do this, I’m a good person,” I thought as I started to sweat “but if I kill this one person they will stop killing people” I closed my eyes and looked away as I pulled the trigger, BANG, I heard the person collapse to the ground in a loud thud.

I opened the closet door to find the person laying on the ground, with a bullet hole spewing blood right near their collarbone, he started to tremble as they looked up at me, their pupils shrunk as their eyes widened, they coughed and blood poured out of their mouth and they coughed again and it splattered across the floor, they sat up and leaned against the desk “why—“ they coughed again “—why did you do this, who are you”. My hand trembled and I dropped the gun, the cold metal of the gun collided with the stone floor as it made a loud clattering sound, I started to tremble as I stumbled backward toward the closet door, I leaned against the wooden door, it creaked as I put pressure on the door. I looked at my trembling hands, still cold from the cold gun, I glanced up toward the person I shot, I started to feel lightheaded and I collapsed to the floor into my knees, I grasped my hands around my head as tears poured from my eyes, the tears patterned quietly on the floor below me as I choked on my tears.

“Are you okay” a soft voice groaned, I looked up to the person I shot, I sniffled “what do you care” I said in a raspy voice “you seem troubled” they said as they coughed again “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” I whispered “don’t be” they said “by the way what’s your name, mines Jasmin” I sat up and wiped the tears off my face “mines Brook”. “I don’t feel so good” said Jasmin as they coughed and fell to the floor, I rushed over to them and grabbed their hand “No no no no no” I said “please don’t go, I didn’t mean to” I pulled their hand to my head and rested my head on their hand, tears started to pour from my eyes again. Their hand got cold and went limp, I let go of their hand and slowly put it down next to Jasmin. I looked at their face, a smile was draped upon their face, a smile slipped onto my face choking back tears.

I stood up, my legs felt weak as I tried to walk, I slowly went out the door, I turned around and looked at Jasmin’s lifeless body, I felt as if someone punched me in the gut, it felt like I was gonna throw up. I exited the abandoned warehouse and walked around with my hood over my head, I kept my head low as I walked around the street, I took a deep shaky breath trying to hold back tears. I started to head back to my street where my house is, but suddenly rain starts pouring down and the sky went dark, as I got closer to my street I felt hands wrap around my eyes and mouth, then I started to feel drowsy and I realized the hand around my mouth held a scrap of fabric doused with chloroform, I started to panic so I lashed around trying to break free but soon I felt drowsy and passed out. When I woke up, I was in a dark room on the floor, my hands and feet were tied together with a thick itchy rope, digging into my skin. I wiggled my hands trying to loosen it but it stayed tight “Help!!” I shouted but I didn’t hear anyone “Help!!” I shouted again hoping for a reply, but it was only followed by silence.

Tap, tap, tap, I heard tapping coming down what I think are stairs, the light from the top of the stairs illuminated in front of me and shined ever so slightly on me, a tall slender figure stepped slowly down the stairs casting a shadow over me, their long arm reached to the wall and flipped a switch and a fluorescent light illuminated above me, I squinted from the bright light and waited for my eyes to adjust, after a minute or so my eyes adjusted and I could nearly see the tall figure. The figure walked into the light, it was a man, he had dirty blonde hair, and green eyes. “Well well well, isn’t it our murderer” he said while kneeling down in front of me “I’m not a murderer” I said gritting my teeth, “of course you are, you can’t trick me” they said while lifting my head upward so I made eye contact with him, I pulled my face away and snarled at him “wow, a fierce one you are” commented the man while standing back up, he raised his hand and put it below his chin, he paced around, then looked at me “so who else are you planning to kill” he asked “like I said, I’m not a murderer” I replied, he started to get on my nerves for not believing me. He looked at me again but he looked disappointed “so, we can do this the easy way or the hard way” he started “the easy was is you confess your crime and go to jail, the hard way is you don’t say anything and we force you to confess” I sighed leaned against the wall, I started to chuckle “what’s so funny?” He asked “well no one knows where I am, or even cares I exist, and people who did care are gone now” my chuckle transitioned into sobbing, tears fell down my face as I slid down the wall to lay on the floor, a puddle of tears grew under my head.

“Oh dear” he muttered “what am I gonna do with you” he put his hand to his head and rubbed it, I still laid on the floor and my tears stopped but the small puddle of tears remained. He walked over to me and pulled me up by the collar of my shirt “HEY” I shouted as he lifted me up then pushed me against the wall while releasing my shirt. My legs laid out in front of me, he kneeled down and started untying my ankles, once he was done he threw the scratchy brown rope to the side “Stand up” he said in a stern voice, I stood up and he grabbed my shoulder and turned me around, he started to untie my wrists “there” he said as he took the rope off my sore wrists.

I rubbed my wrists as a small red ring remained on them, I glared at the guy “woah” he exclaimed and took a step back, my clothes still wet from the rain, sticking to my skin, I walked past the man and out the exit, I bolted out the building to appear in a damp dark alleyway and it was night, I elbowed into the wall and pushed myself forward off the wall and ran forward into the street. I looked around and saw two bright yellowish white lights speedily getting closer, I reached my arms in front of my face and flinched back, I heard a loud honk and a screech of the tires, I lowered my arms and opened my eyes to see the dirty white car in front of me honking their horn. I trotted to the sidewalk and out of the road, this was an unfamiliar road as my eyes darted around but all I saw was a local drug store and a restaurant ‘dine in and out’ was in red fluorescent lights. I walked around town looking for anything familiar, then I saw it, the abandoned warehouse where I shot Jasmin, I started to feel sick and almost threw up, I entered the warehouse, it was still dark and silent. I went to the room that Jasmin was in, the heavy metal door creaked as I shoved it open, I look in and see the lifeless body laying in a puddle of blood, it was so dark the blood looked black, I walked into the silent room and looked around then I heard something, I don’t know what it was but I heard something my eyes darted around.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I found the source of the sound, it was a rat underneath the desk, it scurried to the door as my eyes followed it. My eyes started to water as I remembered what I did to Jasmin, I wiped my eyes and looked around for the gun, I sweeped my hands across the cold stone floor. My hand bumps into the cold gun and I wrap my hand around it, I pick it up away from the floor, my warm hands wrap around the cold trigger and muzzle of the gun. I looked for a gun holder in closet that I previously hid in, I couldn’t see what was in the closet because it was very dark so I reached in and glided my hands across the items wishing the closet until I came across a small fabric pouch, I grabbed it and took it out and slid the gun in, it fit like a glove, I clipped it onto my belt and left the premises. The sun started to rise from the horizon, as I walked around the corner of the building “if they think I’m a villain might as well be one” I muttered quietly to myself.

I walked the dark streets of the town as the light from the sunrise seeped through the cracks of the buildings and trees, the sun started to pull across the sky and lit up the town as I walked to the park. I came across a few people early in the morning, going for jogs and stuff like that. I walked over to the pond, free from ripples and untouched. I looked down into the water to find myself, dark bags underneath my eyes from lack of sleep, my eyes were also droopy and slightly sore as well. I splashed some water from the pond into my face and wiped it off, it felt very refreshing and cold, my slightly wet hair stuck to my forehead as I stood up and headed to a breakfast restaurant. I went to the door of the restaurant and slightly pushed it but it was locked, next to the door was a schedule of when it was open, I believe it was wednesday and it didn’t open until 7:00 AM, I had no idea what time it was because I lost my phone, I haven’t realized I lost it before and frantically checked all my pockets but no sign of it.

I went over to one of the few people awake. “Do you know what time it is?” I asked a runner. He stopped and took out his phone “it’s 6:53” he told me and then proceeded to jog around the park. I went back to the restaurant and sat down at a wooden bench, it was white but the paint started to peel to reveal tan wood, I started to doze off at the bench then I fell asleep, the sound of people walking by woke me up. I headed into the restaurant and ordered some pancakes, it was a couple minutes and the food still hadn't arrived and I could hear my stomach rumbling. Then the waiter came by my table and carefully set down the large plate with golden pancakes layered in thick brownish-gold syrup. I slid my fork and knife into the fluffy pancakes and cut them into small squares and started to eat them. They were so delicious I finished them very quickly, and the waiter came back to my table “so how was your meal?” She asked “it was really good” I answered “so how will you be paying? Cash or card?” She suggested “oh, umm” I stuttered, I bolted up from my seat and ran to the door “sorry, gotta dine n’ dash” I blurted as I ran out the door “HEY YOU GOT TO PAY FOR YOUR MEAL” the waitress shouted.

I ran out of the building, I didn't know where to go other than my home, I made my way around town toward my house, the sun was directly above the town now and I was almost at my house. My neighborhood started to come into view and I could see my house, and jacks house, but jacks house had the lights on and I saw someone inside, I ran to jacks house and saw Jack, he was fine “fucking asshole” I mumbled to myself “he faked his death and I got blamed for it” I thought. My face naturally went into a scowl. I went to the front door and raised my hand to knock on the door but I stopped myself. "Should I confront him?” I questioned myself in my head, suddenly I started to feel light headed and the world started to black out and I collapsed onto the door. Well that’s what I get for skipping sleep for a couple days. My body started to feel cold, numb, and stiff and I was nearly able to move. I sat in front of a small open closet but inside the closet was nothing but the abyss, I looked into the darkness wondering what was inside, then something bolted out of the darkness, a hand. The pitch dark hand came out and wrapped around my arm as I still couldn’t move, more hands bolted out of the abyss slowly suffocating me in the inky darkness, some wrapped around my mouth and I was unable to shout for help. I bolted up, a cold chill went down my spine and I was covered with a cold sweat, it was just a dream. I thought while relaxing, I looked around and I was on Jack's doorstep, the lights were off in his house. How long was I out for, I thought as I rubbed my head and sat down on the doorstep.

I felt marcid and drained, I stood up but my legs refused to hold me up, I’m way too exhausted to walk. I pulled myself up on his door and twisted the copper handle, I fell inward as the door swung open, I looked around for Jack but I realized the house was completely empty except for me. I pulled myself up on the dining table and I heard the wooden floor creak ever so slightly, I could barely stand let alone walk, my eyes were so tired they could barely stay open and my eyes were burning and started to tear up and I could barely see. I patted down the walls in search of a light switch, then I heard a click and the lights flashed on, I rubbed my sore eyes until they cleared “Jake?” I questioned as it echoed through the empty house “Jake?” I said again but slightly louder, I stumbled around the house in search of him but had no luck. I collapsed back onto the untouched couch and put my palm to my head and groaned in pain, I think I was having a migraine but I don’t know because I never had one before, I slumped across the couch a and laid across it, I was extremely tired and I think I fell asleep for who knows how long, but when I woke up it was dark.

When I got up I was sore, like really sore, I walked out the door that I forgot to close, when I got outside it wasn’t cold or hot, it was kind of humid out but I proceeded to go back to my house, I could nearly walk on account of how tired I was, i stumbled my way back to my house down the street, i almost toppled over a couple times but managed to keep steady. But then everything went dark, and a high-pitched ringing was in my ears, and I felt myself hit the ground hard, then I heard a faint siren and red and blue lights. My eyelids were too heavy to keep open so I shut them. It's been awhile and i was still unconscious but I could hear everything that was happening, I heard people talking to one another on radios, with a static sound when they finished their conversions, I heard a heart monitor, beeping every so often. Where it smelled weird but good, like medicine and sanitizer. I opened my eyes and took a quick look around was wearing a strange thing blue gown, and there were two nurses beside me holding a clipboard with a paper on it and talking to each other, then one of them pointed back to me without turning around “this patient was found a couple nights ago passed out on the sidewalk, they didn't have any licenses on them when we found them, but they did have a gun. When we found them passed out we did a drug test to see if they were drunk, but they were clean. Were not sure the reason for the pass out” she continued to talk and talk about me, and if i was ok, then they started to turn around and i quickly closed my eyes to pretend I was still passed out, my heart started to pound faster with fear, the heart monitor started to beep faster which made my anxiety spike and my heart beat even faster, the two nurses rushed around my bed to check on the monitor, one tapped the glass and i tried to slow down my heart rate, very quickly it went back to normal “must have been a malfunction” one of the nurses said “yeah probably” agreed the other nurse, they walked back around the bed and left the room.

Soon later the lights in my room turned off and the hallway lights dimmed, a pale yellow fluorescent color. I waited a bit to make sure no one was in the hallway so I could make my escape. I sat up slowly and craned my head to the door then to my arm, it had four different needles in it, fastened on with a fabric like tape, all of them were attached to different thin tubes, i peeled the tape off and pulled out the needles one by one, it stung a little bit but once they were out, small drops of blood started to form at the hole in my skin where the needles once pierced, i wiped the blood away and stood up out of the bed, i felt dizzy and i had to grab the metal bar on the side of the bed for support, my head started to spin and i almost passed out, i felt winded and exhausted “how long was i out” i muttered to myself not expecting a response “you've been out for a couple days” said a soft calm voice from behind me, it was an young girl, it looks like she got her left forearm amputated, i nodded and stumbled my way out of the dark room and clung to the wall so i wouldn't collapse to the ground, the hospital seemed empty, no nurses in the hallways, or patients. My head slowly started to stop spinning and I could walk without the wall. I tried to be as quiet as possible so no one would know I was leaving. Soon after I got to the door and left, I had no idea where I was, who knows how far away I am from my house, how I would get home, I have no money, no friends, or family. “I'm a murderer” i whispered to myself, i sat down on the cold pavement, the sun has been down for a while, the cold wind bit at my skin through the cheap gown, i curled up and dug my face into my knees to hide the tears “what will i do now” i said while tearchoked “what do i do, i have nothing, i killed people, and for what” i could feel my eyes starting to burn as more tears flooded down my face and as i started to hyperventilate.

I felt a warm hand lay on my shoulder, i got startled and jerked away, i could barely see them through the tears, my shaky breath started to calm, and my tears started to stop “c’mon lets get you back inside” said the person, it was a female voice, it must have been one of the nurses that were in my room, she grabbed my hand and pulled me up. I wiped my tears from my eyes, then wiped my wet hand onto the gown and it left a salty tear stain, she lightly pulled my hand wanting me to follow her so i did, we went back through the sliding doors at the front and passed the main desk, there was still no one there, probably out for lunch or changing shifts. My tears fully stopped but my eyes still burned. She brought me back to the room i was in before with the girl, The nurse hooked up the the needles and tubes back into my arm where a red crusting smudge mark lay, a bubble emerged from the semi-clear bag attached to a tube that attaches to my arm “hmm” i hummed as i looked at the bag. “Whatcha thinkin bout” the nurse asked “what” i said because i was not paying attention to her “what-” “oh me” i said before she asked me again “just thinking” i fully answered, “about what exactly” she asked as she sat down at the foot of the bed “nothing important” i lied and looked in the other direction away from her but she was still in my peripheral vision, i could see she was worried about me, she stood up and the bed creaked ever so slightly without turning around. I watched her as she flipped the lights of and turned left down the dim lit hallway, soon the clock in front of me that was hanging on the wall turned its hands to 11 pm, it was starting to get late, when can i go home r if i ever go home, i began to get even more worried, my breaths became shallow and my eyes jumped around the room looking for an object that doesn’t exist, my heart beat slightly faster and my breaths got shallower and shallower to the point i couldn't breathe, my heart beat faster and faster, the beeping from the machine sped up, ‘what was happening’ i yelled to myself in my head, i couldn't speak, my throat became dry and scratchy from the breathing soon becoming raspy. The two nurses busted through the door in a rush to get to me but then everything faded to black, I heard yelling, and alarms, and people barking orders to one another ‘was I dead’ I thought to myself, I don't feel my heartbeat, i am calm, finally at peace. Then a flash of light blinded my eyes, soon later adjusted back to the hospital room as i bolted up from the bed, a cold sweat running down my back, “thank god, just a nightmare” i muttered as i wiped the sweat off my face and lay back down ‘but what if… nah it's stupid’ i thought ‘but what if it wasn't a dream, and i could have died’ i lay there staring at the off white ceiling… thinking.

The next day the nurses came in with my clothes “you are free to go” one of them spoke while the other came over and detached the needles and tubes from my arm, the other nurse put the neatly folded clothes at the middle of the bed near the edge “you can change, then sign the paperwork” she set down a clipboard with a piece of paper on it with a pen on top of the folded clothes “and then you're free to go” she finished, they both left the room and shut the door “it's nice you're getting out early” the voice startled me then i remembered the the girl next to me was there, her grayish maroon curtain made a wall around her bed, i stood up and started to get my clothes on, they smelled clean without a particular sent, but they also felt clean, they felt nice, still warm from the dryer. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled over the clipboard but as ii did the pen fell on the ground with a light click and rolled partially under the bed, i bent down while still sitting on the bed reaching under the bed for the pen, but then i felt something it didn't feel like the pen, it felt like wood, i grabbed the wood object and pulled it out, it was a small antique wooden box. i held it in front of me on my lap and observed it, it was a mostly gray box but still had tints of brown from the aged wood, i turned the box around and found a tiny flip lock keeping it closed, i wedged my finger under the thin piece of metal trying to open it, whoever put it here must have put this here a long time ago, then my finger with a lot of force slammed the small lock onto the top piece of the box. I opened the box, it had a small note on it, the outside of it written on it said ‘for my love’, i folded the note open, it was frail and old, it was crumpled and ripped but was filled with love ‘dear my love, by the time you find this it will be too late, and i would have disappeared forever, it's not you it’s me, i've done many wrong things i'm not proud about, i hope you will still love me, because i still love you. Someday I hope we will find eachother again whether the earth crumbles or we bump into each other at the mall. I sure hope you can understand I will never stop loving you. Your dearest, jasmin’ tears swelled up in my eyes, jasmin can never find the one she loves ever again because of me, it's all my fault, my throat swelled and i began to choke on my tears, he will never know that she loved him. I signed the paperwork and grabbed the box then left. I sat at the empty bus stop waiting for the bus to arrive, tears still streamed down my face as the bus arrived, I wiped the tears and sniffled a bit, the doors of the bus swung open waning me to step inside. ‘Maybe I can start anew, be a different person, live a better life’ I thought, but then I realized that won't stop me from being a wanted criminal, that won't bring Jack back, it won't solve anything.

I sulked on the busses itchy fabric seat, alone, no one here but me and the driver, but it was nice to look out the window and look at all the good things in life, but maybe, just maybe i could be a new person, but i also didn't want to change i liked being wanted, you don't have to listen to anyone, you can just be free, but it fills me with dread when i think about the people i hurt like jasmin, but thinking about jack makes my stomach tie into a knot and i feel like i need to throw up, i remember his lifeless body draped across the floor as a bed of blood lies beneath him, and the knife, brutally stabbed into the floor. I wish that it never happened, i wish that jack never died so i wouldnt be a murderer, a fucking wanted criminal. This was the worst couple weeks of my life, everyone who cares about me is fucking dead, i wish i never existed. I stood up and pressed the button to let me off the bus and the bus halted to a stop, it was near the cliff of the town, the most popular attraction to go to, its where our founder founded the town, no one really visits it anymore, it's become gray, dull, and depressing, i walked for a couple minutes to get to the cliff, i stood atop and placed the wooden box beneath a nearby tree, the town draped across the valley like a pond “i can't do this anymore” i whispered to myself “I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS ANY MORE” i shouted, i stepped closer to the edge, single tear fell from my eye, my stomach tied into a knot, i looked across the town one last time, gazing as the sun set, pulling the dark night sky over the town. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, i stretched out my foot over the cliff side “at least i saw the sunset one last time” i said to the darkness, i leaned forward over the cliff, waiting to fall, but then i felt two tender hands grasping the back of my shirt, and pulled me away from the cliff, i was choking on my tears “just let me do this” i push them away and i walk back to the edge, they wrap their arms tightly around me, and i kneel to the ground and they follow “please don't do this, you don't deserve it” they told me “NO I DO DESERVE IT” i yelled at them trying to squirm my way out of the hug but they only tightened their grip, i felt tears drip through the back of my shirt, they were crying, i stopped trying to get out and just accepted the hug. I started to cry more, i haven't had any love in so long i forgot what it feels like to receive it “th-than-nk y-y-you” i said tearchoked, “t-th-thank you” i muttered quieter to them. I started to quietly laugh, oh boy how i missed this, how i missed affection, i never want this to stop “i never want this to stop, i wanna stay like this forever” i croakaly said “dont worry im not going anywhere” said the voice calmly “its ok” they reassured me, i turned around and hugged them back, i never wanted to let go. They hugged me and i hugged them for awhile, this is the best i have felt in years, i wiped the tears from my eyes but they just kept coming, after my tears started to clear up i got a clear view of the persons face, it was the bus driver, they saw what i was gonna do, and they cared enough for a stranger to save their life, i have never met anyone like this… except jack, he would always care for others, and always helped people, the busdriver loosened their hug but i kept mine tight and firm “thank you jack” i whispered, i don't think the driver minded that i called them jack, just as long as i was safe “thank you” i said one final time.

(OOC) Read the first half, love the angst :0

Saving this to finish reading in a bit

[yoonieper]

Pecattiphilia— Part 6 | PJM

Pecattiphilia is the sexual arousal from performing an act one believes is a sin.

✽ Pairing: Jimin x Reader

✽ Genre: Angel Au, angst, fluff, smut (yep, we’re here now!), this is a slow burn (kinda?)! 

✽ Rated: M for Mine

✽ Series Warnings: This series will include discussion of religious aspects such as the afterlife and concepts of heaven and hell (There are no direct ties to any specific religion besides the mention of angels and demons— all aspects of religion was created by me for this series), this series includes a lot of violence (sometimes graphic depictions) and gore (nothing extreme, Jimin and the boys fight monsters sometimes), and mentions of sin (particularly revolving around sexual topics)

✽ Chapter Specific Warnings: jealous Mimi, Mimi’s going through a bit of a crisis, drama!, smutty elements– making out, grinding, etc~ green flag chapter!

✽ Word Count: 12.5k

✽ Summary: Jimin is sent to watch over you and as the years go by he gets more and more curious and sometimes just wishes he could get to know you. But he knows that’s forbidden, it's sin. However, a freak accident somehow causes Jimin and your eyes to meet for the first time with purpose. He knows it shouldn’t happen but he doesn’t want to break away. He wants you to look at him, wants you to touch him, wants you to be with him. The problem is none of this should have happened in the first place… what’s happening to him?

✽ Now Playing…: We Go Down Together by Dove Cameron & Khalid, The Girl is Mine by Michael Jackson (with Paul McCartney), ALL MINE by Brent Faiyaz— visit the masterlist for the full playlist!

✽ Author’s Note: Eeee already, the two parts I hoped to get done this year! Now I also hope to post part 7 this year! It’s already started and I have it all planned out and should be a shorter chapter than these last two~ I’ll let you know more info later on in the year, but hopefully it comes out soon because I hate to have a big gap from where this leaves off 😭 Hope to be back soon guys AND hopefully I’ll finally make the Spotify Playlist before the next part comes out! Also if you see any mistakes this was a tiny bit rushed so I will be coming back and fixing whatever I missed! Anyway, enjoy~ 

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D

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Human vs Angel.

It was a battle that relentlessly raged on with an alarming ferocity in his mind. The damage at this point was catastrophic, no clear winner, only bloodshed and more to come on the horizon.

Human or Angel? Who was he?

It’s not like Jimin or any P2 angel could remember what their experience was like as a human, yet they still weren’t seen as entirely angels either. 

That’s because they weren’t.

They still had wants, desires, cravings, needs, and they even maintained the vessel that once contained their souls. Their souls were long gone, now replaced with the angelic light that gave them the power to fight against sin, but that still wasn’t enough. Something that forever confused Jimin was why they still bleed— all higher up angels didn’t bleed, why did they need to? It was messy, unnecessary, red, too human for exalted beings like them. 

From the very moment they opened their eyes there was this immediate barrier preventing them from being like the other higher up angels. They sometimes certainly didn’t see them as such— they were impure, sinful, depraved, degenerative creatures who would be better off joining the cycle then working with them.

It was a bit of a shock at first hearing this when their team was first allowed to wander through the winding halls of H.E.A.V.E.N. Celine and Atara had tried to warn them of the higher up angels, yet during their lessons it was hard not to admire them. 

Their capabilities were beyond anything they could ever do and they had every right to have the very air they flew through worshiped. Maybe that was why Jimin and the rest of his team were a little too optimistic when Celine and Atara gave them the tour and some would pass by.

They heard the comments— Taehyung had even tried to go up to one in his excitement and was immediately met with the repercussions he deserved. 

This first encounter was all it took for their team to want to put as much distance as they could from their human past— a past they couldn’t remember, but resented because they truly took the higher ups' words to heart. 

And that proved to be successful. 

Their numbers topped many of the leaderboards, the less human they were the better they did— the more they truly helped the goal of maintaining the balance of the universe.

However no matter how well they did they would never be truly an angel. To be so pure and in control to the point where weapons weren’t necessary, a single glance at a sinful creature was enough to vanquish the being from existence.

Namjoon was rare in the sense he was one of the few P2 angels that had gotten the chance to experience something similar. However he still needed the bandages wrapped tightly around his hands to prevent him accidentally blasting a hole through spacetime, doing far more damage than just demon blood on his hands. 

He was respected a little more than the rest, but there was always this wall that even he could never cross. 

Not entirely human yet they certainly weren’t people. No one could remember what it was like to have a soul anymore.

They were too “human” to be an angel but too powerful and glacial to have that same passion that humans live with. 

It was confusing and while Jimin never truly felt like a real angel the gap felt even wider when he was around you. The reason was simple, Jimin would never be able to feel as much as a human could. He was and forever would be detached from the human experience.

That much was just a fact. 

He would be called emotionless in comparison, a husk of the vibrant soul that once inhabited this vessel, built solely for the purpose of vanquishing sin from this world. All emotions besides the blissful sensation of purifying his enemies was practically reduced to nothing. 

That was how it was supposed to be at least.

With each day you’ve been in his life, it was like a distant memory was returning to him. Never clear enough to fully remember, but the warmth that bathed him whenever he was in your presence was oddly familiar. You’ve given him the opportunity to feel more than he thought he was capable of anymore. 

It was a little confusing to navigate through, but you were there to ground him and despite his growing concerns at least he was here with you. 

With you this beautiful orchestra of emotions would sing anytime he’d just gaze upon your beauty. You were honestly beyond words, your enchanting presence was enough to rival the angels he worked with. It was mind boggling that you were human. 

But as much as Jimin just wanted to ignore the obvious, that more sensible half made sure he never forgot. 

He couldn’t even if he wanted to, but that created this strange fire that burned brighter, hotter, and more violent with each and every one of your meetings.

The emotion that seemed to dominate his mind anytime he was with you these days was this searing, unexplainable antipathy— or better put— the closest thing he could experience to it.

Jimin hated you with every fiber of his being and you were completely unaware. 

It was obvious as the weeks passed by he needed to talk to you. He honestly had no right to hate you, the issues being completely unestablished to you and there was no way you could have known, but that didn’t matter. Jimin still found this confusing flame growing hotter and hotter and it just got worse each time you’d meet in your dreams.

You didn’t do anything wrong, you still thought he didn’t even exist so of course you would never think anything of it. 

You were more so caught in the crossfire of his frustration with himself. He thought he was stronger, but time and time again you proved to be the one human who could bring a superior being like himself down to his knees. It was always so easy for you, you weren’t even aware you were doing it.

Jimin’s tried so hard to make this work.

He saw you every night and he’d always try to plan these elaborate dates to distract his troubled mind. They worked most of the time and proved to be fun just having you by his side. But that didn't completely stop the days you’d stay and relax underneath the big tree you first met under, which was oftentime a request made by you to just talk and admire the clouds passing overhead, but Jimin tried his best to avoid dates that were so casual because they usually never ended well anymore…

Were things different now because you were together? He didn’t know what changed but instead of the tranquil moments where you’d gaze upon the setting sun, Jimin practically had his tongue down your throat every time he’d see you. 

One minute you were discussing the most obscene thing ever, mole science it happened to be that time. You had sat up so you could be closer to his face while you examined every dot across his skin and attached this arbitrary symbolic meaning behind their placements. It honestly didn’t make any sense to him, but you were so pretty and cute as you gently poked the dots and explained what each and every one meant. 

You must have noticed he was confused because suddenly after you explained what the one on his cheek meant, you leaned down and kissed it. He was left giggling like a schoolgirl when you pulled away, the tingles, butterflies, he just felt so whole in that moment. The cute instance was short lived because the next one you went for just so happened to be on his neck (something that may or may not was on purpose), in a spot he quickly learned was so fucking sensitive the minute your lips met his skin.

He couldn’t even describe what came over him. It was this rush that flowed through his body to pull you close because how were you real and how were you his? You both had been laying on the picnic blanket but suddenly you were on your back staring up at him with those eyes he couldn’t help but get lost in.

All he wanted to do was kiss you, he felt like he had to in the moment, but once your lips were on his the harder it became to pull away. How could he? 

The way you made him feel was so complicated, he honestly didn't have words but this fuzzy feeling mixed with just this innate, carnal desire he knew was a vestigial emotion from when he was still human. It was overwhelming almost, the need to have you, to claim you.

It proved to be one of the most revolving yet exhilarating experiences everytime that rush would hit. Your touch, your lips, your body, he just couldn’t get enough.

And each time it was getting harder to stop, to remember it was sin and that promise he made to his team that he absolutely couldn't, under any circumstances, break.

It was so pathetic, he was horrified every time he’d come out of your mind and back to the reality he faces.

What was he doing?

This road was a path filled with sin and he was still choosing to go down it? 

What was wrong with him?!

Jimin wanted to have more faith in himself, that this was just the ‘honeymoon’ phase of your relationship and things would settle down eventually, but as the weeks passed it was just getting harder and harder to stop himself. 

As much as he loved to pull you close anytime you were near, it was impossible to deny he wanted you closer. He wanted to feel you, touch you, love you in a way he knew how to. 

You’d manage to stir awake a beast that had laid dormant for eons and Jimin didn’t know what to do.

The more logical side was saying as much as he loved being with you, this wasn’t healthy and he should stop now before things get any worse. Yet every night, he was back with you.

He couldn’t leave and he didn’t want to either. 

Every time you’d fall asleep and that smile on your face when you’d finally notice him, he never wanted to stop seeing that.

It was almost hard to forget the times you’d gaze right through him, never once being aware of his presence. How could he go back to being nothing to you?

You were his and he was yours. He’d find a way to overcome this, if it’s the last thing he does. 

That doesn’t mean it hasn’t been hard.

You made things hard. 

You and your filthy mind. 

You’d think about him all day, it would catch him off guard every time when he would watch over you at your job and you’d be so innocently sitting at your desk, like you weren’t thinking about the night before, in a scenario where you never woke up.

Your thoughts, painfully loud as you shifted in your seat. That date where you both rode on the backs of unicorns, you pictured his physique as you clung onto him that night as you and the herd rode into the sunset. It would just get worse, so much worse as you thought about when you both ended the ride, how he held you in his arms.

You wanted him to take you right then and there. It played so vividly in your mind, just like the countless other sinful fantasies that bounced around in your head all day. And he knew exactly how hot they would make you feel, the special bond you have making it all so clear what you wanted.

It was torture.

Jimin was forced to sit there and he couldn’t do anything about it. He’d even considered on a couple of occasions, merging down to the normal plane just to beg you to take pity on him. 

Jimin hated you for it, it was pathetic. 

You never realized it was Jimin’s doing, you always would curse to yourself whenever things got too hot and then you woke up in your apartment once more. You simply thought you got yourself too excited and would wake up as a result every single time. 

In actuality it was the most speedy way to stop himself from going any further than he has.

He’s tried so hard not to go beyond kissing, so hard, and it was so pathetic that he wanted more every time. Every single time.

One day you had asked Jimin to take you back to the diner because you were craving their breakfast. The date had gone similar to the first time he took you, Laura served you a mountainous amount of food as you chatted about anything that came to mind. You were a little braver this time in getting up to explore the diner, wanting to see the extent your mind came up with the smallest details.

You went over to the jukebox they had sitting in the corner and bet that nothing would play because none of the songs were ones you recognized. Low and behold the random song you picked ended up overcoming the murmur of the other customers at the diner. 

You were stunned but that officially meant you lost the bet. Jimin knew you would, but his wish was simple. He just wanted you to dance with him. 

He laughed at your defeat but didn’t hesitate in pulling you close as you both began to sway to the soft strums of the guitar and drum of “My Girl,” one of his favorites from when he visited the time period. The moment had been a chance to have you in his arms, the others in the diner disappearing as you both just enjoyed the moment. 

It was perfect, you were perfect. A warm feeling spread in his chest as he held you, that Jimin used his hand to make you look up at him so he could just kiss you.

It should have been a perfect, sweet moment— it was all up until your filthy mind was back and he knew you wanted more. The warm, sweet feeling turned into something darker almost instantaneously.

At this point he had it. 

Jimin knew you were confused when suddenly you were pinned up against the counter a couple had been eating ice cream at only moments prior. 

If things had gone your way he would have taken you right then and there. He would have had your dress bunched around your waist and fucked you so maybe then you would learn to behave.

And he nearly did, he nearly took you right against that counter. His hand on your waist had been shaking because just a thin piece of fabric was in the way of having you like he wanted. And your mind… you just made things worse.

That’s how every meeting would go between you these days. It was horrible and it was all because of you. 

If you hadn’t done this to him he wouldn’t be in this position.

If you just listened to me you wouldn’t be in this position.

If he wasn’t so weak he wouldn’t be in this position. 

But at the end of the day, he made his choice, and he continued to make the same one every night when he visited you. 

No one was forcing him to continue this. You still thought he was just a dream, you would eventually forget about him and things could go back to the way they should be.

You were innocent in all of this, yet this fiery heated emotion was constantly directed towards you. He hated it, he hated all of these new emotions. As beautiful as the orchestra was, all of them felt strange, unnatural, dangerous even. 

Jimin shouldn’t be feeling anything. He should be the soldier he was trained to be, obedient and with only one thing in mind— maintaining the balance and continuing the cycle of life in the universe.

A new emotion manifested all on its own as a result.

A gray cloud of gloom would storm, thunder, and pour continuously over his head when he watched over you throughout the day. Jimin couldn’t control it, and that just made things more confusing. 

Was it sadness, depression, maybe some watered down version of it? What if it was something else entirely?

As happy as he was to be with you, it wasn’t right, nothing was right anymore. 

Jimin had disobeyed the commands of his leader and now he was struggling to keep the one promise that his team had made with each other and had maintained for eons. 

Jimin wanted the solution to just be that he had to stay in line, but that line kept being moved and manipulated. He just knew things would only get worse.

Was this what happiness was meant to feel like? All the humans he looked after, was it always this confusing for them? This pain that just didn’t make any sense— no end, no beginning, no wound, no blood, he could never place it… it just hurt all over. 

Was this what he wanted when he decided to be with you? 

He was happy, he was sad too, he was angry, he hated you, he hated himself more. It was all too much and Jimin felt like a hurricane was whishing and whirling around in his head— his mind was a horrible, tumultuous storm and maybe if he was human he would understand how to navigate this. 

If he was human the problems he faced wouldn’t exist, he could be with you no consequences whatsoever. But at least if he was human he would be used to these strange feelings. 

Maybe the answer would be clearer.

But every night Jimin came back to you and he never wanted to stop, because through the storm you were his beacon, his lighthouse, his safety, his refuge.  

You were the only thing that made sense anymore and he just wanted to be with you, even if it was from far away it was still something.

Jimin hoped it would have stayed that way, he wasn’t entirely content but he respected the boundaries your relationship needed to have. 

It was fine, and everything would have continued to be fine if he didn’t exist.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You were enjoying your lunch break that day by yourself. Your friend Mina had been at home sick so you were eating your tteokbokki alone and mindlessly scrolling through your phone to occupy your time. 

You weren’t truly alone though, you never were.

The cafeteria was minimalistic— the white, sleek, modern walls and tables, contrasted nicely with the bright chairs and accents throughout the room. It was a style something your office loved as they were a fan of bright colors, that being evident even in the office space. 

Jimin sat with you at the table in the blue chair and you were in the red one right across from him. 

You were completely unaware of his existence or all the rain that flooded the cafeteria as the cloud above his head continued to storm. Jimin was soaked but he’s grown used to it at this point.

He felt numb, but sitting here with you was nice. 

Maybe in some other world you both might have been coworkers, a secret romance that blossomed between you two that eventually you couldn’t keep a secret any longer. The storm wasn’t overhead instead you both were sharing a meal together as everyone around you sighed at how single they were.

They were jealous and you would always laugh because you both really were lucky. 

He couldn’t help but wonder sometimes, if you met while he was human would you have liked him? What if the only reason why you said yes was because you thought he was a figment of your imagination, your desires making you look past the glaring fact you didn’t find him dateworthy if it were real life?

Would Jimin have been a nice human? One your eyes would have been instantly drawn too? Would he have been charismatic, would he have you laughing with each and every joke he told?

He was human once, surely out of all the lives he lived at some point there was one that would make you fall for him. 

But here right now? The Jimin you would have met, would you like him? 

Jimin’s thoughts were interrupted when he noticed you turn toward the sound of the clicking of shoes against the tiled floor— ultimately looking at the guy who was walking over to your table. 

Name: Pyeon Jin-Sang

Age: 28

Occupation: Lead Financial Officer at Divine Pharmaceuticals

He was a fellow coworker and you both had spoken on a couple of occasions. It was mainly about work, you both didn’t see each other much working in different departments.

It was why you were a little shocked to see him coming over to you. 

Jimin instantly felt his blood run cold because he knew what he wanted. 

“Hey Y/n…!” He was a little awkward, maybe nervous, but he was still cheerful as he took a seat at the green chair in between you two. 

Jimin didn’t like him.

“Hi!” You smiled back as pleasantly as you could considering your mouth was full of tteokbokki.

“How have you been?”

“Ummm….” You were definitely confused, you normally didn’t have these casual conversations like this. 

“I’ve been ok I guess, things have been a little busy in marketing, but I’m making it.” You were wondering if this was about work or something along those lines. 

“I heard things were busy over there. You’re doing ok, right?” Jin-Sang seemed genuinely concerned.

You nodded. “I’m fine, but I think it was a little too much for Mina— she got a pretty high fever after staying late the other day.” 

“Is that why she’s not here today?” Jin-Sang asked, looking around. 

You nodded once again, taking another bite of your tteokbokki.

“Mmm well, you take care of yourself, alright? Seeing you around the office always puts a smile on my face.” He cheesed, cheeks dusting pink in the process. 

You only halfway picked up on the flirting attempt— noticing it, but choosing to ignore it because no way was Jin-Sang trying to flirt with you.

Your face flushed nonetheless. 

The conversation grew more natural with the uncomfortable icebreaker out the way.

You both talked a little more about seemingly anything and everything that came to mind, a little work, but you mainly focused on the personal details that you both just never seemed to discuss before. 

He was a nice guy and a lot more interesting than you would have guessed from your brief interactions in the past. You laughed as he told you about the time he and his friends went kayaking down the rapids in Australia and how they nearly went down a waterfall after they made a wrong turn. 

Jin-Sang was exciting, nice, and really funny.

The more you talked the more you picked up on his shy attempt at flirting with you. It was cute, he was cute.

He wore a suit that nicely fitted his frame, his sharp eyes would crinkle up anytime he’d smile at you, his dark hair neatly styled with a sharp undercut on display, but his cute round glasses and soft pink cheeks just made him look like a teddy bear. 

There was no denying it, he was handsome. 

You both talked for pretty much your entire lunch break and it was just as you were about to leave when he finally asked you the question.

“Uh… Y/n.” Jin-Sang called out to you as you started getting up. His voice wavered slightly and he quickly started playing with hands. 

“You probably already know I didn’t just come over here to talk about my Australia trip or the logistics of blue cheese…” 

It had been a strange conversation looking back on it now.

Jin-Sang paused and looked around like he was trying to find the right words. 

“Alright, fuck it. I meant what I said in the fact I look forward to seeing you everyday, and even though we only talk on rare occasions, I really want to get to know you more.” Jin-Sang paused once again to gauge your reaction and you couldn’t stop the smile on your face growing even wider when he noticed yours.

“Uhhh…” He giggled as he scratched his head.

“Sorry you’re really pretty…” He tried to laugh it off, but you heard it and you couldn’t deny the butterflies you felt at the compliment.

“I really came over to ask if you wouldn’t mind hanging out with me outside of work.” He smiled at you.

Oh that smile could kill someone. 

“Like a date?” You asked, a giddy feeling spreading in your chest.

“Yeah, a date.” You noticed his smile grow wider at your mention of it.

This should have been easy. Obviously there was enough chemistry here that trying things out would be worth it in your opinion. It was on the tip of your tongue to ask him for the time and place and tell him you’d be there. 

Maybe things would make a little sense if the only reason for your hesitation was your concern of pursuing a workplace relationship. Those can get messy and there should be a little caution before being ready to take that short of risk. But that’s not why you hesitated. 

As much as you enjoyed Jin-Sang’s company, a certain angel that made his way into your head every night was what ultimately stopped you in your tracks. What you actually were about to say, was that while he was a nice guy, you had a boyfriend already. 

But that just served as a reminder that Jimin was nothing more than a figment of your imagination. As much fun as you were having with Jimin, at the end of the day, he was just someone who lived in your head.

And maybe this was a sign. You thought you had sworn off relationships for a while, but Jin-Sang was nice and a date or two wouldn’t do any harm. If things worked out then that’s great, but if they didn’t then so be it.

Jin-Sang noticed the way your smile started to drop as the proposition lingered in the air. 

“Uh— you don’t have to respond right away! This was pretty sudden so I can give you some time to think!” He panicked and you instantly felt bad. This wasn’t fair.

“Oh yeah… um— can I have your number so we can talk?” You asked and he was quick to give you the digits before you could even open up your contacts list.

It was cute.

He gave you a slightly awkward goodbye as he made his way back over to his table of friends who had been eying you both intently since he walked over here. 

As soon as he was gone, the guilt you felt nearly overflowed. To make matters worse you didn’t know who you felt more bad for, the fact you didn’t give Jin-Sang an immediate answer because of a figment of your imagination or… did you feel bad for what you might be about to do to Jimin?

It was crazy right?

Maybe you might have been, but you didn’t know that the Jimin that had stopped you, wasn’t in your head but sitting across from you.

From where he sat the storm that had poured over his head had filled the entire room, lightning flashed, and thunder crashed, as the wind blew everything around. 

Jimin could hardly see you anymore, the rage he felt burning from within making a hollow gaze settle onto his blue eyes. 

He didn’t scream, he didn’t yell, none of that would have done anything anyway. 

Instead he let the embers burn, catching ablaze faster and faster and faster. It was a new emotion— it wasn’t rage, hatred, or anything in between but he knew it came from a place he didn’t like. 

His confusion didn’t help but the storm raged on anyway and by the seconds grew even more powerful somehow. He couldn’t think straight, only one thought seemed to pierce through the storm.

You were his.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Jin-Sang texted you by the time you made it home for you to tell Mina he hoped she felt better soon and also invited you out for coffee or ‘your preferred drink of choice’ on Saturday. Apparently this new cafe had opened up and everyone was talking about it. You wanted to text him back and tell him you were down and you were excited for Saturday, but it was like this little nagging voice in your head anytime you tried to type anything out would stop you.

Jimin. 

It was stupid, incredibly stupid.

You knew Jimin only existed in your head, but sometimes it was so easy to forget that. Jimin was unlike any other person who’s made their way into your dreams, especially as someone you never met before, he felt very… real.

Maybe it was because of how vivid they always were, but Jimin felt like a real person. He had likes and dislikes that didn’t match your own, he had stories to tell you that you don’t remember, and something about the way he’d look into your eyes. 

It felt real, too real that you often wondered if you had actually lost your mind. 

Maybe you had and Jin-Sang was a sign you needed to wake up.

You had been lying on the couch trying to come up with an excuse why it wouldn’t be a good idea to go out with Jin-Sang besides your make-believe boyfriend, but apparently your mind was tired from the day, too much had happened. It also didn’t help that you had ASMR playing in the background, you were out before you even realized it.

You don’t know how long you were asleep for, but eventually you opened your eyes to find yourself looking out to the familiar field you found yourself at every night.

But things were immediately off. 

You were propped up against the tree like you had been sleeping under it, and from this view you could see… well, you couldn’t see. 

A thick gray fog covered the field so you could hardly see in front of you, thunder rumbled in the distance, and a light rain steadily started to sprinkle across your skin.  

It was pouring though, you could tell in the heavy pitter patter sounds of the rain hitting the tall grass of the meadow, but you figured the large tree overhead was what was giving you a little coverage. 

What was going on? The weather was usually so nice when you came here. 

You looked around a little confused, things weren’t normally like this. But just as you were about to start calling out to him you were shocked when you finally noticed Jimin sitting around the tree. 

He had his knees to his chest and his head was buried down in between. 

“I’m sorry… the clouds just seem to follow me these days.” Jimin sighed.

And he was off too. Jimin was usually so happy to see you, always greeting you with a hug knowing how much you love them. It was clear something was bothering him.

You scooted closer so you were sitting right next to him. 

“Are you ok?” Your voice was soft as you rested your hand on his shoulder.

You didn’t get an answer right away, instead the rain filled the growing silence once more. Part of you thought he might not have heard you so you were about to ask him again, but slowly Jimin lifted his head to look out to the foggy meadow.

You could see his eyes now, the vibrant blue looked like a violent storm at sea, the waves reached astounding heights and the rain poured overhead— the chaos of nature itself. Yet it was a quiet storm, one not a soul on land was aware of.

“Please don’t tell me you’re thinking about it.” Jimin sounded like all the life had been sucked out of him, his cheery smile gone and instead this plain, dead expression on his face.

For a second you had no idea what he was talking about, but the moment was truly small because of course the Jimin in your head would know about your dilemma with a certain coworker.

“Jimin—“

“You told me you were mine, that we were going to try…” If you didn’t know any better you thought he sounded like he was on the verge of tears, but your angel couldn’t cry, instead a heavy emotion with no way of release was filling his head.

In the distance the rumbling thunder grew a little louder. 

You sighed and scooted even closer so you could put your arm around him. 

“Please tell me you aren’t going.” Jimin tried again, this time finally turning to face you. For some reason he seemed slightly agitated, his gaze dark but filled with a pain that made your heart ache.

“Jimin… I’ve enjoyed our time together. Shit, you have no idea how much I wish you were real— actually, you probably do, you know everything I think—“ 

You took a deep breath.

“But you’re not. None of this is real. I can’t go out and introduce you to people. We can’t walk down the street and hold hands. Jimin you don’t exist, you’re just a figment of my imagination.” Your words were a little harsh but he had to understand.

You finally turned to him and you hated the look on his face, you could tell he was hurt. If that wasn’t a sign enough rain suddenly started pouring down from the sky.

It was violent, the cover of the tree wasn’t enough to shield you from the droplets that continuously hit your skin. You were soaked in seconds.

“Jimin!” You exclaimed, just a little annoyed he was reacting this way, but you felt bad as well.

“I’m sorry…” He grumbled the apology yet he didn’t feel bad at all. 

He hated you.

He hated you because you were right in a way. He was real but he couldn’t do any of those things with you. To you he might as well be a part of your imagination, this is the farthest your relationship could go. 

You could tell he was upset so you scooted closer and wrapped your arm around his shoulders. 

“I wish so fucking much you were real and we could do all those things. The fact that I’m even contemplating this date over someone who doesn’t exist should tell you that much.” The pain in your voice, the sobs, you hoped he could feel how much you wanted him. Your tears ran down your cheeks, but you were thankful for the rain to cover it up some.

This was the perfect opportunity.

Everyone was right.

Jimin couldn’t even look at you, the grass that was being flooded by the rain held his attention. He watched as the water would try to soak into the ground, but too quickly there was more to take its place.

The grass was drowning.

This was one of those moments Jimin wished he could cry, something, because the reality of the situation was too much to handle.

He didn’t want to say goodbye, he didn’t want to let you go.

But it made sense. 

His other half was right, this was the perfect opportunity.

Jimin knew Jin-Sang wasn’t a bad guy. His intentions were pure and he knew the date you would have would go well. You shared a lot of interest you’ve yet to discover and he would treat you well. He worked a well paying job, he would love you— he almost did already. 

Jin-Sang could be the one. 

Maybe things would be easier if he was sure, if he was like the higher up angels and he could know what stopping you from going on that date would do. He could be stopping you from your chance of happiness, something that he could never give you.

But he only knew the now and now hurts so much.

He didn’t want to let you go.

“Jimin… say something.” You cried seeing he was just playing with the grass underneath him.

The rain just got harder and harder. You were almost in a hurricane.

Now was the perfect opportunity.

He could say goodbye to you right now. He was only a dream to you. You would forget about him eventually. He could right the wrongs of this situation and go back to his position as it should. He was meant to be your guardian, nothing more.

Things would fall back to line eventually. Maybe with Jin-Sang there you would move on more easily. You would be happy and he would just be forced to watch it happen.

He wasn’t meant to be part of your life.

He didn’t belong here.

It might be hard now, but he would have had to say goodbye to you eventually. This was his opportunity. 

It might hurt for a while, maybe even forever, but you would eventually fade into all the other souls he watched over and guided into the beyond. 

Things could go back to normal, he could make his team happy, he could finally follow his leader’s orders. 

This was it.

Jimin just needed to say goodbye.

But…

The clouds that raged around you almost dissipated instantly, the dark gloomy overcast replaced with the shining sun you were used to.

You looked around confused before turning back to Jimin wondering what was happening. 

His head was still buried in his knees, but slowly but surely he lifted his head to finally meet your eyes again. 

You certainly weren’t expecting to meet his dark gaze. His light blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean were replaced with something dark, black, a void almost. It’s like the storm itself had condensed small enough to rest behind his sad gaze.

It was scary only for a second.

“You’re right… I just… I don’t want to say goodbye.” He sounded like he was about to break. It’s like you were looking at a dam seconds away from exploding. Even though you knew he couldn’t cry it almost sounded like he was but the tears never flowed.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, it hurts and I don’t— don’t know how I— how to—“ He didn’t know what to say, how to articulate these feelings. All he knew was that it hurt somewhere deep inside to look at you right now.

You quickly pulled him into a hug.

“I get it… it hurts too.” Your voice was shaky as the tears streamed down your cheeks.

Jimin didn’t like the way this felt, you shaking in his arms, the ache he just couldn’t pinpoint in his body. It felt worse than a darkened blade piercing his skin. He wanted to scream but instead he just stared off into the endless meadow you meet every night.

When you pulled away, your tear streaked face made it hurt even more.

He didn’t know what to do, but seeing you like this, he would do anything to take the pain away.

Jimin cupped your cheek lightly and pulled you close. He was so gentle as his thumb lightly wiped away the tears. 

You stared into his dark orbs and you could just see the pain on his soft features. It was so hard to remember that look was nothing but your imagination being cruel to you. It hurt worse knowing you were the one who caused this.

More tears slipped past your eyes and Jimin wiped every one away. 

He was so sweet and you nearly melted away when he finally closed the gap between you two. His lips were so soft and kissing him felt like touching a live wire at the way your body tingled.

How could you let this go? You didn’t want to—

Suddenly your eyes shot open and you were staring up at your living room ceiling. It took a second to process where you were, to calm your heavy breathing, and to realize the fact you were soaking wet.

You hurriedly looked around and noticed the glass of water you had sitting on the coffee table was knocked over, but you were soaked. Just as soaked as you felt in your dream with all the rain pouring over you. 

You looked around confused, but decided not to think about it too much as you steadily got up to grab a towel. 

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“What do you think about Pyeon Jin-Sang?” You ask absentmindedly to your friend who was sitting right in front of you.

You and Mina had gone out to this cute cafe for your lunch break instead of staying in like you usually did.

Mina had been sipping on her strawberry latte, something she claimed was the cure to getting rid of her sickness entirely. You doubted it, knowing your friend, you knew she just wanted something sweet.

“You mean that guy from finance?” You knew it took a second for her to remember who you were talking about. 

You nodded, picking up your galaxy lemonade. It had been a new addition to the menu and seeing the pretty colors, you just had to try it.

“Ummm… I guess he’s nice, pretty good looking, I don’t know we haven’t really spoken much. Why?” She was genuinely confused, you couldn’t blame her though, this was coming pretty out of nowhere.

“The other day while you were out sick he asked me out.” You watched her face intently and you see the shock on her features almost double at the news.

“What?!” She nearly screamed, making you quickly need to shush her.

“What?” Mina tried again, this time only a little quieter, emphasis on little.

You nodded. 

“And you’re just now telling me?!” She almost sounded a little hurt at this.

“I would have said something sooner, but…” You started but trailed off.

“Are you thinking of not going?” Mina’s attention turned to the little tea cakes you both were sharing. 

“That’s the thing, we talked that day and he was really sweet, funny, and I think I’d be willing to try out the date…” 

“I’m sensing a but coming.” Mina knew you too well.

You had to think about how to phrase this without sounding absolutely crazy. 

“Well there was this guy that I really, really like who I was already kinda dating—“

“WHAT?!” Mina definitely screamed this time as she firmly slammed her hands on the table. “And you didn’t tell me??!! Who is he? Do I know him? Why didn’t you tell me you liked him, let alone dating?!!” 

“Let me finish first!” You tried to calm her down.

She had to take a deep breath before finally letting you continue. You didn’t blame her though, maybe this wasn’t the best way to go about this.

“Well he lives far away and as much as I like him the relationship just can’t work.” Your heart pained at the thought of Jimin so far away you can’t reach him. You miss him so much, you didn’t see each other yesterday.

“Oh…” You knew she had more questions but she was letting you finish first.

“Jin-Sang is nice and I want to go on that date with him, but as stupid as it may be, I—“

“Keep thinking about this mysterious man from far away?” Mina finished it for you and you nodded at her words.

Mina took a minute looking out the window, trying to find the right words.

“And you can’t do long distance?” She asked but you quickly shook your head.

If only it was as simple as a few hundred, you would even take thousands of miles in between you and Jimin. Unfortunately he wasn’t of this realm, only accessible through your mind.

Mina had more questions about that but she stopped herself again.

“We broke up when I told him about Jin-Sang.” You threw that in but did you and Jimin truly break up? It just felt like your relationship just started. The words still hurt.

“Oh…” 

“Like it was fun while it lasted, but Jin-Sang is here. It’s not worth continuing something that can’t go anywhere.” You doubled down, but your hands were shaking in your lap. You didn’t mean anything you said.

“Well then I don’t know what’s so complicated, go on the date and have fun. One date never hurt anyone and if things have ended between you two it shouldn’t be a big issue. Like you said, you had fun, but if things aren’t going anywhere why waste your time.” Mina made it seem so easy.

Maybe it really was that easy.

It should be that easy.

“I get maybe you’re struggling because you still have feelings for this mystery guy, but they’ll eventually fade and going on that date might be a great start to putting that all in the past.” She smiled at you, taking another sip of her strawberry latte.

You didn’t want to move on. You didn’t want to let him go.

Your mind had been filled with his eyes right before you woke up from your dream, the pain and hurt in his dark orbs. You actually felt like you betrayed him.

But she was right.

You could be missing out on a really good guy for someone that wasn’t real. It was ridiculous.

“But this is the step in the right direction. I’m honestly a little shocked after I thought you said you swore off dating.” Mina recounted with a chuckle. 

She had been by your side after your last relationship and had been that shoulder you cried on while you were going through the breakup. She knew how bad things were and the pain you felt that made you swear off from dating entirely.

“I’m proud.” And this was the nail in the coffin for you as she reached her hand over the table and rested it on yours that was playing with the edge of the napkin your drink sat on top of. 

Mina was right. 

You really have come a long way.

The fact you were even considering going out again was a step in the right direction.

Jimin… you knew he was there because no matter what you said about dating being a thing of your past, you still craved the touch of another human being. You had shut out everyone after your last relationship and after your time with Jimin you truly felt like you could try and let someone back in.

Slowly, you knew the relationship would have to move slowly. You weren’t there entirely yet and especially after Jimin— moving on would still be hard. But you were willing to try. 

It just sucks you can’t thank the person who’s gotten you this far.

“It was him.” You tried to smile but your heart still hurt. 

“Even though we were separated. He was truly there for me. It just sucks it didn’t work out, but I think you’re right. I should give Jin-Sang a try.” As much as it hurt now you didn’t regret your decision. 

This felt right. 

You and Mina clinked your drinks together in celebration and on your way back to work she helped you draft up your message to Jin-Sang after you told her how awkward things got after he asked you out. 

By the time you were back, you and Jin-Sang were on for Saturday.

Jin-Sang [1:46pm]: can’t wait :3

And as much as you couldn’t stop thinking about Jimin, you honestly couldn’t either.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You couldn’t see him but Jimin was right by your side every step of the way. He was there with you and Mina sitting at the empty table beside you both. 

For some strange reason he’d hoped your talk with Mina would deter you from going through with this, that for some reason she would say to choose him despite it being impossible. Even in the vague way you explained your situation, she still chose Jin-Sang. 

Jin-Sang was the correct choice after all. 

Jimin had taken a small break yesterday from watching over you in order to get his head back in the game. That weird pain he felt deep down just got worse anytime he’d look at you.

He’d tried his best to convince himself that this was the right choice, that saying goodbye was what you should be doing. It was easier to accept when he was far away from you, in the refuge of that forest he found himself at whenever things got too hard.

It was easier to look at things objectively and accept that he had his fun with you, but now it was time to say goodbye for good and for things to go back to normal between you too.

Jimin only saw you briefly yesterday, anytime there was a sin that he would detect he was back next to you in a flash and taking all his frustration out on the monstrosity. 

Today he thought things would be different, he thought the day yesterday was enough to get past the worst of it and for you both to begin your path to normalcy again.

But hearing you and Mina talk… when you said that you and this ‘mysterious guy you couldn’t be with’ had broken up he nearly lost it entirely. 

A violent tornado formed around him in an instant and he just screamed out into the void that he lived in. Hearing those words made the realization hit him so much on how you would go back to staring right through him.

You were so close yet so far.

He would be nothing to you.

He remembered the pain he felt only months ago watching you live your life and he couldn’t be a part of it no matter how much he wanted to. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

He knew you texted Jin-Sang about the date but he was gone to the forest all over again. His head was swimming with all these unfamiliar emotions and he didn’t know what to do. 

He had no one to talk to, he couldn’t tell his teammates— they all thought he was done with you already and certainly if he revealed it now he wouldn’t be granted with the advice he craved for. 

Instead in his rage he nearly turned to the most drastic measures. 

Alone in the forest, he felt cursed. He detested the life he lived, if he was normal, if he was human there would be no reason you both couldn’t be together.

His handle had turned into a small blade, his shirt had been discarded somewhere in the brush. The words that painted his skin all were blackened out and he still had healing scars from all the repenting he had to do. 

At first this was only meant to be a reminder of the reason he needed to leave you, to see the damage you had caused him. But he wanted it to hurt, to hurt more than this burn he felt more from the inside because even then he still wanted to be with you.

Jimin had unfolded his wings and had them resting in his lap with the blade only centimeters away. He’d gotten as far as the knife had managed to graze the delicate feathers and it sent him screaming. 

His knife had managed to put a slight tear in one of the feathers and that alone made him pass out.

He’d wanted them off entirely but his wings were too sensitive to try and do it willingly. Apparently his body rejected the idea.

Or really he didn’t want them off, he just wanted to be normal so you both could have your life together.

When he woke up merely seconds later Jimin felt different. 

It was strange.

Beforehand, despite all the pain, he was going to try to leave you alone. He was going to try to say goodbye, no matter how much it hurt.

But now… His other half was silent and for once he felt like he could think for himself. Suddenly it all made sense now and what he wanted became so clear.

Why couldn’t he be selfish for once?

You were his after all.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

It was the big day, Saturday.

Jimin had been watching you as you started getting ready. Your date wasn’t till four but since it’s been a while since you’ve gone on a first date, you were feeling nervous with an extra need to make yourself look presentable so you started the process early so you didn’t have to rush. 

Jimin hated the way he felt, he hated the way you felt even more. 

You were giddy, eager for tonight— for a man that wasn’t him. 

Jimin had no right to be upset. 

But he was.

This flame just grew as he watched you get ready steadily. And you looked so good too…

You always did…

The situation just felt unfair.

Why did Jin-Sang get to have you?

The whole argument centered around the fact you thought he wasn’t real, but he existed just like anyone else in the world? Why did he have to give in for the sake of some human?

He would be better to you, he knew he would. So why did he need to be the one to let you go?

It just pissed him off even more. Were you so easily forgetting who you belong to?

You were his and he was yours. Why did he need to suffer and watch you live on? It was unfair, this shit was so unfair.

He’s sacrificed so much for you already and now he was the one who had to give up? 

Jimin didn’t like the nasty emotion that just kept growing as he watched you.

Anytime you’d text Jin-Sang about later he felt like he wanted to slam himself into a building. He felt an even greater urge to fly over to his apartment and set things straight. He didn’t know what came over him. 

This was meant to be the right choice yet it didn’t feel like it. 

And then…

Though he was here with you, he knew at the moment Jin-Sang was on the phone with his friend about whether it was weird to bring condoms on the first date or not. Jin-Sang was saying “what if she thinks that’s the only thing I want?” but his friend was saying to bring them “just in case, you never know how this date might go.”

Jimin wanted to go over and slap him for even thinking about it, but again he had no right. It just made him think back to what things were like with your last boyfriend. It was hard then to manage, but now… now…

Anger cursed through his body the closer the time got because it wasn’t fucking fair.

You were his. He was your boyfriend, you were his girlfriend.

He should be the one you’re so giddy to see later, he should be the one you’re so tentatively getting ready for a date for. It should be him, it should be him, this wasn’t fair.

Because it truly wasn’t.

If things were different— no fuck that. 

Jimin should have left, given himself another day, maybe to cool off. Maybe even a more official break would have been the best thing to do to give himself time to reset. He shouldn’t have stayed but it was that same strange, nasty emotion he hated that brought him into a whole new problem. 

It was only a few hours to your date and you were chilling on your bed, a silk robe the only thing covering your body. You’d already showered and done all the pampering you needed to. You even had your dress laid out on the bed beside you after you spent nearly two hours on the phone with Mina about what to wear. 

You both decided on something casual enough since you were just going out to coffee, but still was sophisticated in its slight pretty elements. It was a simple, black, short sleeve dress that had cute heart shaped buttons going down about halfway, its white collar and the way it gently hugged your curves gave it that level of spice that Mina said it would be perfect for the date. You also had this tiny white purse and fun, cute shoes that also had hearts on it to match.

It was very different to how you dress at work but that was exactly the point.

All you needed to do now was get your clothes on, do your hair and makeup and then you were out the door. It might seem like a lot, but you knew you wanted to give yourself some time to make sure everything was perfect.

Laying here though after all the hectiness of trying to get ready, it was only for a split second did you feel sleepy. You didn’t think too much of it though, you were about to get up soon anyway, but it’s like this wave suddenly overtook you and before you had time to react you were out cold. 

You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until suddenly your eyes shot open and you were back underneath the tree you used to find yourself every night under. It had been a few days since you’d last seen Jimin, nearly a week at this point since that emotional fiasco happened last time. 

Even though you’d tried to end things with Jimin, you were honestly glad to find yourself back. Last time just didn’t feel like the right place to leave on. 

You looked around a second wondering where he was until suddenly you heard footsteps on the other side of the tree. You moved around and low and behold there was Jimin leaning against the tree with his arms crossed.

“Jimin?” You tested already sensing something was off. 

“So you’re really doing this…” His voice was low and you sensed the attitude behind his words. 

“We talked about this already, as much as I want to be with you, you know that can’t happen.” You sighed, slightly annoyed you needed to repeat yourself but understood this was hard. But why was your consciousness doing this to you?

Jimin finally looked over to you and he was staring at you with that same dark gaze that you saw last time. You could still see the raging storm in his eyes, you could see the pain and hurt you’d caused.

Jimin started walking closer to you.

“And after everything we've been through, you still think I’m not real?” The question seemed to ring in your head as the words settled in the air.

Jimin kept moving closer and you were just stunned because you didn’t know what to say. Of course this wasn’t real… it couldn’t be real.

You never stopped him as he came close enough so your back was against the tree, his arms coming up by your head, effectively caging you in. 

“You really still think that…” He looked shattered as he stared into your eyes.

“Jimin…” His name fell from your lips unintentionally, it was almost a sob seeing that look in his eyes. He backed up slightly, disappointment written all over his features. He paced around for a few seconds.

“Or is that what you want that to be the case?” Jimin suddenly turned back to you, he was angry, malice laced in his words. 

“What?” Your eyes were teary but you were confused. Where was this coming from? 

“Jimin you know—“

“Do I?” He laughed.

“You just keep telling yourself that I’m not real so you don’t feel guilty about doing shit like this.” The accusation was insane and entirely unfair, but Jimin wanted it to hurt as much as you hurt him. 

You had been sympathetic at first, but that quickly was wearing thin the more he talked, because this made no sense. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? For someone who’s always in my head, this one time you’re choosing to ignore any it and make these stupid fucking claims?” Now you were angry, more than that actually because why was Jimin making this so hard for you?

“Hard for you?! Do you even know—“ Jimin had to stop himself real quick, the pain was overwhelming at this point. Why did this hurt so much? He didn’t know how to handle this at all. 

“You promised we’d try…” You don’t know how much those words meant to him back then. To hear that you’d be willing to put up with his incompetence when it came to this type of relationship, it meant the world to him. He’d been so scared of messing things up, he’d already had but you’d so easily forgiven his mistakes and he thought things were going good so far. 

“I did! But… Jimin we tried, and we tried as far as we could. I love the time we spent together and I wish, Jimin please hear me, I wish we could try more— into the real world. I wish I could go out and introduce you to people as my boyfriend, but I can’t! Look around, we’re in my head! This isn’t real, none of this is real and as much as I’ve enjoyed my time with you Jimin this is just a sign I need to move—“

The pain just got worse and worse.

“That would make things so much easier.” His attention wasn’t on you anymore, he couldn’t look at you, instead he stared down at his bare feet in the lush green grass.

“What are you sayi—“ Before you could finish he took a step closer to you once again.

“It wouldn’t hurt as much seeing you go off with him.” He’d gotten real quiet, but you could hear the quiver in his voice.

He took another step closer so he was standing directly in front of you. His hand came up steadily to intertwine his fingers with your own, so soft and gentle.

“I’m sorry… it just hurts so much and I don’t know what to do.” He steadily lifted your hand so it was resting on his shoulder. He finally raised his head to look up at you and you could have broken down right there seeing how dark his eyes had grown. 

“Jimin…”

“I’ve never felt like this before and it just hurts so fucking much. I’m sorry.” He truly did feel bad about what he said. It wasn’t right to take this out on you. But he was still mad, this was all so unfair. 

“I wish— I wish things were different.” You looked up at him with sad eyes, hoping he could sense your own pain in this. 

“Why couldn’t you be someone I knew— a coworker, a highschool classmate I forgot about, a stranger I pass by everyday on the way to work— anything.” You sighed, frustrated honestly. 

Even if the real life Jimin wasn’t anything like the one who’s made his way into your dreams every night, it still would be a relief to know he was there, that you could actually reach out and touch him, that you haven’t gone absolutely crazy over a person who didn’t exist.

“Why do you keep saying that?” Jimin cried once again in your head when he shouldn’t be. 

“Because it’s the truth—“ 

“I wish this wasn’t real! If I didn’t exist then I wouldn’t have to live like this— watch you run off with some other guy because I can’t be with you. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much…” It really would be better.

Every time you’d leave the dream he wouldn’t know what was happening, he would cease to exist until your mind conjured him up once again. Things would be so simple, wouldn’t it? He wished that was the case. Did you seriously not know?

He already knew that answer.

“Jimin… you seriously can’t tell me you think this is real?” Your eyes were sympathetic as you lightly ran your finger over his shoulder, before moving up to rub his neck. 

Your words flipped a switch inside, you saw it happen with your own eyes, his sad gaze turning dark all in a second. 

Suddenly Jimin started leaning in close, he was only centimeters from your lips.

“Is that what you want?” His voice was low, dangerous, like that was a challenge. 

“Huh…” You were out of it, you couldn’t concentrate with him so close.

“Is that what you want— you wanna run off with him?” He was pissed again and back with the outrageous claims. 

“Jimin—“

Suddenly you felt your other hand being lifted to rest on his shoulder as well, to which you finally wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“This isn’t real?” He looked you right in the eyes.

“You’re trying to tell me what I feel for you isn’t real?” You hurt him again and you didn’t know what to say. Of course to him this was his reality but for you—

“Stop doing that!” He exclaimed, his gaze staring right through your soul. 

You didn’t know what to say and Jimin didn’t want you to anymore, instead he finally closed the gap that was between you. His soft, plump lips melted against yours as you felt that fiery explosion of butterflies you did every time you and Jimin kissed. 

You tried to pull him as close as you could, you wanted him to feel how no matter what, you truly did wish you could be with him. 

But then he pulled away enough to separate the kiss, making a whine escape your lips. 

“You’re mine.” He breathed out as his hands traveled down to rest on your hips. 

“Jimin—“ Before you could finish you were silenced by his lips on yours again. 

“Shut up— please, please shut the fuck up.” He sighed in between kissing you. 

And this time you listened. For all you knew this might be the last time you’re seeing each other and there was no point going back and forth like this. Instead you wanted to leave this off on a positive note.

“You’re mine.” Jimin reiterated again because apparently you weren’t understanding. 

This just made you kiss him harder. It quickly grew hot, heavy, and needy because you just wanted him close and this just wasn’t cutting it.

“Fuck—“ You moaned as he hurriedly pulled on his sweater. 

“Do you understand? You’re mine.”  He needed you to understand. He was tired of playing the act that he was fine with letting you go— no you were his. It was just that simple.

Jimin had your back pressed hard into the bark in the tree, one hand on your waist the other sliding up your arm to finally cup your cheek to angle you just as he needed you. 

His body was on fire faster than he could handle and he didn’t know why. This strange rage just made him want you even more than he could process. It almost hurt— he needed to slow down—

“Jimin, please— fuck, please!” You cried needing more. You didn’t have to ask again before suddenly you were falling once again and your back was against the soft grass with Jimin hovering right on top of you. 

Your breathing was heavy as you stared at each other, his dark eyes staring right into your own, a pained expression on his features. 

But the moment apart was short lived as Jimin dove straight down to your neck, hastily planting kisses across your hot skin. 

“You’re mine.” The grit in his voice, it was almost if he growled right in your ear and you nearly lost it all together. 

Your legs hurriedly came up to wrap around his waist to pull him closer. 

It was then when Jimin panicked a bit— you were so close— sin, so much sin, he needed to stop he should stop but—

Jimin’s lips were back on yours in a hurry, you moaned lightly as you felt him start to rock into your heat. So good, it felt so good. 

Your hands, your hands coming up to quickly tangle in his hair, this— then your lips were on his neck, kissing, sucking, marking him up like he hoped it would.

Jimin let out a pained moan because the words on his body were burning so much it hurt but you felt so good. This strange mix of pleasure and pain had his body confused and he bucked faster into you because fuck—

He should have stopped, he needed to stop but it just never felt like it was enough. He needed you to know who you belonged to.

By now he would have stopped because the longer you kissed the more excited he knew he was getting. He never wanted things to get that far, scared he might reach a point of no return, but something about today was different, he wanted you to feel just how much he wanted you.

And it didn’t take very long for that to happen…

It was too much. Every touch, every kiss he gave to you, he could feel it all. The connection you shared allowed him to feel for the both of you and it quickly got overwhelming.

He couldn’t control it and it just made that fire burn uncontrollably as your fervent hands ran down up and down his back and through his hair.

He loved kissing you, he loved touching you and he loved how it felt when you did it back. And to think this was sin— it was, it had to be in the way you practically bewitched him.

“Jimin…” You moaned softly because you could feel it now. 

Jimin broke away from you slightly to grab your hand and trailed it down over the fabric of his toned chest, down to his waistband of his sweatpants, and then you could feel the outline. 

Jimin groaned as he lightly rubbed himself along your hand. 

“Does this not feel real to you?” He could hardly get it out, his mind was fuzzy and he was screaming at himself not to push this any further but he just couldn’t stop.

Your eyes stared right into his with pain because as much as you wanted to—

“Stop doing that!” He whined, your hand was right there.  

He couldn’t think straight anymore, he wanted to fuck you, he wanted you to understand how much he wanted you, he wanted you to realize it.

Jimin quickly pulled your hand away and was kissing you once again with even more ferocity. He had to make you understand, he couldn’t lose you. 

He pushed into you, faster, harder, so fucking desperate.

You weren’t quite understanding the situation, you honestly thought that this was just going to be a heated goodbye. You thought this was your consciousness giving you one last hooray with Jimin before you needed to come back down to reality.

You just knew if you both weren’t naked in the next thirty seconds you were going to lose your mind. But Jimin thwarted any attempts you made at pulling down his sweatpants, even taking off his sweater proved to be an impossible task and you might have been more confused if Jimin didn’t make sure your attention stayed on him nonetheless. 

You had never felt this turned on yet sexually frustrated simultaneously, but you enjoyed the grind, the hurried pace he set and you just wanted him too—

Suddenly a pain whined left his lips and you felt his hips falter slightly. 

Oh? Was he close?

You pulled him closer, needing him as close as he could get.

If only—

You were so distracted by Jimin you hardly noticed things started to change around you. The beautiful meadow in your mind slowly started to drift away but all you could focus on was Jimin’s moans and his lips on yours.

It didn’t dawn onto you until it steadily started to realize you didn’t feel the grass against your back. The thought was brief compared to the feeling of Jimin hastily pulling off of you. 

You finally opened your eyes and you were shocked to see you were staring up at what you quickly recognized as your bedroom’s ceiling.

You blinked a couple of times before you finally turned beside you where all the commotion was coming from.  

Someone was beside you. 

It almost sounded like they were in pain at their low groans and how they almost seemed curled up beside you. And it almost sounded like—

You hesitantly sat up and low and behold you saw Jimin’s pained face as he was clutching onto one of your pillows.

It was Jimin but he looked slightly different, gone was his blue hair, matching sweater and sweatpants— instead he was wearing a white, short sleeve shirt, with matching white flowy pants, he was also blonde again.

What was going on?

“Jimin?’ You finally said something.

The longer you sat here the more you realized something was off. That haziness, dreamy, whimsical feeling you always felt when you were with Jimin wasn’t here. 

You looked down and you weren’t wearing your pretty white dress, instead your silky olive green robe you had thrown over the lingerie you had put on.

You looked around more and in fact this was your room, it looked exactly like your room eerily similar. Even the clothes you had set out for your date crumbled up underneath Jimin’s feet.

This seemed real… too real.

You felt awake.

“Jimin…?” You tried again, this time lightly placing a hand on his shoulder.

You weren’t seeing things, you could feel him, and at your touch he finally looked at you for a split second.

Light brown eyes looked back over you. 

You could touch him, he was warm, and his pained whines…

Suddenly your whole conversation came back to you.

“And after everything we've been through, you still think I’m not real?”

You sat there waiting for you to wake up for real but the more you stared at Jimin the more you felt like that wouldn’t happen.

“Are—are you happy now?” His voice was muffled beside you by the pillow. 

“I told you, you were mine…”

Suddenly it slapped you in the face.

You weren’t dreaming… were you?

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[chibishortdeath]

I got a new sketchbook since I filled one recently :3c. Shout out to suddenly getting a ton of energy and drawing bizarre fanart at 1 am 💀💀💀.

I’m putting the more violent ones under a cut even if the post is already tw tagged because of the subject matter being a bit dark d(^^ ).

Along with explanations for all of them of course!

⚠️tw for self harm and burning past this point⚠️

First one (before the cut) is just some pose practice. Simon’s just sitting, all sad and mopey. There’s also a little chibi doodle of him in the bottom corner and a little pose armature in the top corner for a pose I didn’t even end up drawing whoops lol. I feel like I drew his face a little differently than I usually do in this one :O. Idk how that happened lol.

This one is to show the differences in anatomy between each game! The curse takes a lot out of him, poor guy, so he’s a bit less jacked than usual 😔. Well, more specifically he doesn’t have as much of a layer of protective fat anymore. And he’s also very tired :(. But yeah, this is just a reference I’ll look back at to keep this detail consistent! I was going to put scar reference on it too, but I completely forgot and eh it mighta made it kinda hard to make out anyway d(- - ).

I drew this side profile of Simon while watching a video talking about lost media stuff. I think the image I based it on was something Saki Sanobashi related, idk I just liked the vibes of the hair being blown back by wind and got inspired :). And yes I know that Saki is probably a hoax 💀💀💀💀💀, I didn’t have much interest in it tho tbh, besides just hoping something lost gets found in general. Lost media videos are honestly great for putting on as background noise when drawing :)

Simon is totally me when I have a crisis and cover my face with my hands, but make sure one eye is visible and miraculously out of shadow for dramatic effect!!!

Ok spookier stuff time, first of the below the cut drawings. This one is based on how sometimes vampires are depicted as being able to drain someone from long distances or beyond the grave. Dracula is mean, and Simon is suffering from the curse, the usual. Augh I actually need to do things cause I keep thinking of a cool scene of Simon having a weird Dracula nightmare and then waking up to see it wasn’t a dream, and that’s tropey as hell, but it’s spooky!!! Do you see my vision?

This is a depiction of like what happens with a game over or something :O. Like an absolute worst possible outcome: Simon dies and Dracula is unsealed and fully regenerated. I basically just took is Simon’s Quest design and then rehydrated it and tada, Dracula is no longer a skeleton— He ends up looking way more like Vlad the Impaler in this outfit hmmm. Also, unrelated, but a friend of mine mistook Dracula for Jesus in this drawing 💀💀💀.

Oh boy, edgy depictions of uh a lot of not being very kind to yourself themes. Idk how else to describe this one other than ya know when you get really mad at your past self for making a mistake or the wrong decision that you could’ve only known about in hindsight? Also in part the fear of actually becoming a vampire at the end of all of this? And I guess a bit of feeling like it’s your own fault, you’re the one that keeps shooting yourself in the foot, but I feel like he’d also attribute getting hit by Dracula in the first place as his fault too… hmm just a lot of very sad things going on, this one was definitely a later 1 am time drawing, maybe 1:40 or something. I think what I draw at night is further proof to not trust you when you’re tired; I get weirdly existential at night and then it’s totally fine in the morning. Simon! Just sleep! Stop overthinking!!! You’ll be ok!!!

This one I debated putting up at all cause it’s graphic and not finished (TwT ;). But it was a rare drawing of Simon smiling that didn’t look uncanny, which is kinda ironic because Simon this is not the time to be smiling—! That is also wayyy too far for just the Dracula ritual, you really only need a tiny amount to open the seal, but I’ll cut him some slack cause he is a bit at wits end by this point. I’d say maybe he’s smiling because he thinks he finally won, but tbh I thought of it more like when things are just so bad you start laughing. Like Dracula just rose from the altar and the morbid irony of it all is just so absurd, the irony that you did everything right and fought tooth and nail (Dracula’s to be exact lol) to stop it and here it is happening anyway. I wanna give this guy a weighted blanket and a bowl of warm soup—

These last two are based on what could’ve happened to him. The Grey ending is pretty much usually considered the “worst”, but they’re all nearly interchangeable, especially in the Japanese version. For example: the western release really makes the Blue ending seem like he died and didn’t kill Dracula, but it’s a lot more that he just died doing it in the original, which is to say that it’s kinda like the Grey ending just with a different eulogy— Anyway, the Grey ending is the only one that doesn’t show Simon at Dracula’s grave, so I’ve always taken it as he didn’t make it out of the castle basement. And well, setting Dracula on fire is a pretty common way to kill him so uh um, R.I.P. I’ve got a couple ideas for alternate comic endings to say the least. I might honestly just depict all of them and leave it entirely up to the reader which one happened because it doesn’t change much— Though this also has me thinking of how him surviving would work now. The curse would definitely have left some lasting effects, you don’t just magically stop having been rotted, sleep deprived, and whatever else it did. Idk I picture him being like Renfield levels of lost it afterwards if that makes sense… that could also be a pretty solid explanation for why his story isn’t told correctly and the cycle repeats with Maxim later; it’d be a pretty traumatic thing to talk about tbh. Ok but yappersvile over, next doodle 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Aside from the burnt doodle that’s uh same explanation as the above (R.I.P.), the other two are just a little head angle and expression practice and one tiny one towards the top that’s Dracula being all spooky ghost vampire, but I didn’t like how it was looking and gave up on it 💀💀💀. It’s very hard to draw a vampire attacking someone and not have it look kinda awkward or unreadable. Tbh I struggle putting two characters in one image anyway because I have to draw the anatomy lines for both of them and they end up getting really hard to tell apart when one is behind another, one character suddenly isn’t proportional compared to the other, or you find out one of them isn’t tall enough for the pose you had in mind (>~< ). So anyway Dracula was accidentally way too short all of a sudden and I couldn’t figure out how to draw his torso without making a completely incomprehensible blob behind Simon oof.

Okie, it’s lunch time, bye :3!

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Seven

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 5.2k

Notes: I am posting TWO new chapters back-to-back (7 & 8) as they take place at the same time but from multiple POV's. I'd recommend reading chapter 8 as soon as you can after this one, so its fresh in your brain ;)

Chapter Warnings (minor spoilers in the tags...): 18+ MDNI. Soft!Dave York (like, you can't even stand it. Soft Dave needs his own warning). Porn WITH plot (who gave me the right?). All the feelings (I'm sorry). Unprotected P in V. Creampie. Angst! (in MY porn story? who am I?). Infidelity-ish I guess, technically (look these are just 3 idiots in love who don't know what tf they're doing, okay?). Plus probably ever other tag from previous chapters... you know the drill by now for this series.

MASSIVE thank you for @janaispunk for beta'ing and being my sounding board. I really appreciate all your help!

Page dividers by the generous and talented @saradika-graphics

You power nap through the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening, thanks to the blackout curtains drawn shut but mostly in large part due to the strenuous activities the three of you had gotten up to just before you’d passed out. You remember your eyes closing involuntarily as you lay half draped over Dave, Marcus snuggled into your back and his own breaths began to even out just as yours did.

Soft lips pressed to your forehead and a light hand brushing over your hair causes you to stir some time later and you wake feeling rested, a satisfied smile playing at your lips as you rouse to consciousness.

“Hi Baby” you murmur into your pillow. You don’t even need to open your eyes to know it’s your husband.

He presses a kiss to your forehead once more and breathes out a whispered “I’m sorry” that makes whatever peacefulness you were reveling in vanish in an instant.

His words are enough to get your eyes to fully open. You stare up at him, brow furrowed in confusion as to what on earth he could possibly have to be sorry about and when your gaze sets on him he’s seated next to you on the side of the bed and looking far too overly dressed in tan khakis and a black polo shirt, the expression on his handsome features substantiating his remorse.

“Where are you going?” You ask, concern laced in your tone as you push yourself up into a seated position. Maybe you all are just going out for a late dinner or something and he was apologizing for having to wake you up from your nap for it, but the frown of his face quickly dispels that theory.

He lets out a sigh and hangs his head slightly. It’s then you notice his hair is wet so he must’ve just gotten out of the shower. “Something came up, at work. An emergency” he clarifies, gaze still fixed to the comforter he’s sitting on rather than looking at you. “Cab’s downstairs already.”

“You have to go?!” You ask, incredulous. Your voice raises maybe a little higher than you should’ve let it, but you were rightly shocked that your husband has to leave you now, on your birthday no less.

“Where are you going?” Dave’s voice immediately floods into the room and you look up to see him wandering into the bedroom, towel around his hips and another around his neck that he’s using to dry his hair.

He must’ve showered just after Marcus, you presume.

“Uh work. Last minute thing just… came up. I um, I’ll try not to be long” Marcus continues, turning back towards you for the last part.

“There’s no one else?” You try, sounding a little pouty, you know, but you really don’t want him to go.

He sighs, taking your hands in his and bringing them up to place a kiss to your knuckles before whispering another “I’m sorry” against them.

“But look why don’t you order dinner, or go downstairs for it even, just have it all billed back to the room and I’ll take care of it later, ok?”

“Ok…” you sigh, eyes cast downward. You feel silly for feeling so emotional, he’s literally spent the last 24 hours at your side giving you the best birthday you’ve ever had and you’re still near tears just because he has to leave you. Marcus has a very important job and you know these things come up from time to time. He’s been dragged away from anniversaries, birthdays, even your cousin's wedding on one occasion but it all came with the territory of being married to a senior Federal Agent and you knew that and had accepted it long ago so you just offer a small nod of your head, unable to bring yourself to look at him right now. You don’t want to make him feel more guilty than he likely already does by seeing the disappointment that’s surely written across your features.

Dave is oddly quiet, too. Still hanging back at the doorway leading into the bedroom you presume as you haven’t heard him moving around. With a sigh Marcus leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head and puts a comforting hand on your shoulder before pushing himself up and off the bed. “I’ll call” he promises. You nod again, forcing a smile to your lips as you finally raise your head to look up at him.

“Hurry back” you playfully scold, reaching a hand out to lightly smack his hip with the back of your hand and he chuckles.

“Happy Birthday Babe” he tells you once more before reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. He sighs, settles his shoulders, drops your hand and finally turns away from you. You sit up in bed and watch as he crosses the room until he reaches the doorway where Dave is still standing there in a towel.

“I’ll um... Yeah, I’ll see ya” is all Marcus offers to him before brushing past him. A few seconds go by and you hear the front door of the room open and then click shut.

Well… now what?

“Are you um… are you hungry?” You ask Dave, suddenly feeling awkward as you bunch the sheet up a little higher under your armpits to ensure you stay covered up. “We could order something again, or even go down to the restaurant to eat if you wanna get out of this room” you shrug.

The room feels suddenly too small for the two of you. Like you shouldn’t be in such close proximity to each other without Marcus present (especially not in the state of undress you’re both in). It’s not that you feel uncomfortable around Dave, more like the opposite, and therein lies your problem. Dave makes you feel… a lot. But discomfort is not one of those feelings. The only thing uncomfortable about being around Dave is probably how comfortable you feel around him now. Like you could just walk across the room to him right now and throw your arms around his shoulders and kiss him like it’s a habit.

But you can’t. Of course you can’t. Marcus didn’t explicitly implore you not to, but he also didn’t outright give his blessing either. It feels wrong without Marcus here and you think both you and Dave can feel it, the way the energy shifted in the room the moment your husband stepped out of it. You have been alone with Dave before of course, but only once, and with your husband's enthusiastic permission. Insistence, even. Now there’s a sexual tension hanging in the air that makes this massive suite feel suffocating.

Finally after what feels like a moment dragged on far too long, Dave answers. “Should probably get going, right?” he shrugs his shoulders, voicing aloud what you’re both thinking.

You don’t want him to leave. Of course you don’t. But you both know he needs to.

“Yeah, right” your gaze is cast downwards again as your fingers pick at a loose thread in the soft sheet covering you. You suck in a breath, willing for no tears to fall to your cheeks as you begin to feel overwhelmed with loss, with what your evening had become versus what you had managed to conjure it up to be in your fantasies while you were falling asleep just hours earlier.

You had thoughts. A lot of thoughts. Especially after what had inspired earlier, you were ready and willing to experience a lot more of that and you’d told yourself you were going to be brave and honest and adult about it and tell them both exactly what you wanted, but now here you were about to be left alone in this hotel room. Maybe you’d just pack everything up and go home, text Marcus and let him know to meet you back there after work. You didn’t want to sit around this giant reminder of what you were missing out on tonight.

You remain seated in the bed, back against the headboard and arms wrapped around your legs that are bent at the knees in front of you, hugging yourself as Dave wanders around the bedroom getting dressed in fresh clothes and cleaning up all of his belongings, stuffing them back into his overnight bag. You glance at him occasionally as he busies himself packing, eventually moving out of the bedroom and throughout the rest of the suite to gather what’s left.

“Think that’s it” he sighs as he re-enters the bedroom a minute or so later and takes one final glance around to ensure he hasn’t forgotten anything.

“I’ll walk you out” you say, suddenly remembering your manners and Dave manages a small chuckle but ultimately holds up his hand in dismissal.

“Don’t need to get up on my account, I’ll see myself out”

You nod your head, a murmured “ok” leaving your lips as you wrap your arms back around your knees again.

Dave crosses the room over to your side, hesitation in his steps until he finally reaches you. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead and then smiles softly as he pulls away. “Happy Birthday” he tells you. “Hope it was a good one” he adds with a playful wink and your lips instantly spread into a grin across your face, despite your less than happy mood.

“Best one yet” you promise him. It was the truth, after all.

“Goodnight” he finally says, after a long drawn out silence stretches between you and he turns on his heel, exiting the bedroom. A moment later you hear the main door exiting the room open and shut again and just like that, he’s gone, and you’re alone.

Your head falls back down to your knees and you gently shake it back and forth, willing yourself to be strong and not break down to tears like you want to. It was silly, really, but dammit if it didn’t hurt all the same.

With a huff into the empty room you decide you’re not just going to lie there feeling sorry for yourself all night. You’re going to get up, clean up and start packing to meet Marcus back at home like you had thought about earlier. It was too sad sitting in this gorgeous suite all alone, watching a clock or your phone waiting on your husband to return. You get up and throw on one of Marcus’ t-shirts and a fresh pair of panties, quickly use the bathroom and brush your teeth and then begin to wander about the room, picking up clothes and toiletries and any other of yours or Marcus’ belongings and start packing them into the small suitcase. Once everything is packed you take a look around the suite and realize what a disaster you’ve all made. Between dirty dishes, empty coffee cups, liquor and champagne bottles, and a haphazardly made bed, you decide to tidy up a bit as well before you leave. You know that’s Housekeeping's job but you don’t think you could live with yourself knowing you left a room in the state this one was in so you begin about tossing away trash, collecting empty bottles to line them up on the small counter top and fixing up the bed at least halfway decently. The “do not disturb” sign had been stationary on the outside of the suite door handle since your arrival last night so no cleaning staff had bothered to come by and you couldn’t in good conscience leave the room the way it was.

You stand in the middle of the living room and take a final glance around, satisfied with how you’re leaving things now and go to turn back to the bedroom to get dressed and collect your suitcase when there’s a sudden knock at the door. Your brow furrows at who it could be but you head over to pull it open away, thinking maybe your husband had decided to take the liberty to order dinner for you, rightfully assuming you would skip it all together had it been solely up to you.

You reach the door and pull it open, ready to let whoever is on the opposite side of the door know that you won’t be staying to eat but the words die on your tongue as it swings open and reveals what - or rather who - waits on the other side.

“Hi” you breathe, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hi” he murmurs back, eyes boring into yours.

With one large hand planted against the door frame, Dave looms over you as a dead silence stretches on between you. You know what he’s waiting for. He’s waiting for you to tell him to leave, that he shouldn’t be here. He still has his duffel in his other hand which means he didn’t even make it to his car. From the close proximity you can smell the alcohol on his breath, maybe he only made it as far as the hotel bar and convinced himself to turn right back around.

Either way, you know you just don’t have it in you to turn him away. He knows it, too. Despite not even knowing you very long, he’s always been able to read you like a book.

There’s always been a pull between the two of you, a magnetic attraction. But over the past couple of visits, and certainly over the last 24 hours, something has shifted. You’d felt it, and given the way Dave was looking at you now, you know he did too.

Dave is first to break the silence with a whispered “fuck” before he pushes his way fully inside. Duffel dropped to the floor just inside the entryway, his left arm wraps around your waist and lifts you easily as his other hastily slams the door shut before joining the other to secure you to his body. Your legs wrap around him and both his hands grab hold at your ass while yours wrap around his neck and your lips meet in a heated frenzy as Dave carries you further inside.

“Where?” Dave mumbles against your lips between kisses, halfway across the living room by now.

“Bed. Take me to bed” you answer easily. You don’t want a quick fuck on the couch or against a wall. There’s a yearning inside of you that can’t be fully satisfied unless you do this right. Dave hums his approval into your mouth, passing by the couch and into the next room until he reaches the foot of the bed and he stops to let you down, your body slowly sliding down his front until your bare feet hit the floor. Your arms remain around his neck, his at your waist and he looks down at you, forehead resting against yours, holding your gaze for several long seconds.

“Thought you left” you manage to say, voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” he admits. Your breaths mingle in the limited space between you, the temperature in the room suddenly stifling. Dave can feel the way your body slightly trembles in his arms, just as you can easily read the longing in his gaze. You want this. You both do.

“Tell me to go” he tries, voice so low and soft it’s barely discernible, his eyes falling shut and thumbs absently rubbing back and forth at your hips.

“Can’t” you answer simply. He knows it’s the truth.

“Then tell me to stay” he tries instead, eyes opening again to search yours, needing your consent, your affirmation that you feel this too, whatever is inside of him. He needs to know that you need him as much in this moment as he needs you. That you’re willing to cross this line with him.

You don’t answer him with words. You can’t. Instead you lower one arm down to take his hand into yours and you lead him around the bed, turning once you reach the head of it and dropping his hand to bring both of yours to the waistband of his jeans, slowly popping each one of the buttons of his 501’s until they’re fully open and you’re able to push the denim down his hips. He helps you free him from the confines of his jeans until they’re bunched at the floor and he quickly toes out of his shoes before kicking his pants the rest of the way off. His t-shirt goes next as he reaches behind him and drags it up and over his torso, quickly tossing it aside before both his hands come down to cradle your face and he stands before you in only his boxer briefs.

Words still unspoken, your hands come up to splay across his chest and give him a gentle guiding push. He follows your lead, sinking down onto the mattress and gets seated with his back against the headboard, bringing his legs up to stretch out in front of him as you carefully crawl on top of him, one knee bent on either side of his hips as you straddle his lap and then lower your forehead to rest against his, bringing a hand down to gently caress against his cheek.

Dave lets out a desperate little groan before pressing forward enough so he can capture your mouth. He kisses you slow and deep, moaning into you when your lips part and his tongue brushes yours. It’s not the bruising, desperate and rushed kisses you’re used to from Dave. It’s soft and romantic and decidedly intimate.

His right hand trails up your side under the oversized t-shirt and cups a bare breast before deft fingers begin to play with your nipple, gently pinching and rolling it between the pads of his fingers while your back arches into his touch, desperate for more. He takes the hint and pulls you back just enough so he can tug the t-shirt up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the floor before pulling you closer once more. His mouth trails downwards, placing hot open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, down the column of your throat, your collarbone, and finally finding purchase on your other breast, mouthing over the pert bud before gently sucking it into his mouth.

You moan at his actions, hands coming to card through his hair, gently scraping his scalp with your fingernails.

“God you make me feel so good” you pant and he moans his appreciation for your praise into your heated flesh. “So good to me, baby.”

He continues to kiss and lick and suckle at your breasts, paying each one equal attention and his hand pleasuring whichever one his mouth isn’t currently fastened to and you arch further into him, head thrown back and allowing your hips to grind against his groin. He’s growing hard underneath you, you can feel him swell and begin to strain against the tight fabric of his underwear as you take your own pleasure from him, reveling in the friction created between your legs with each slow drag of his hardening length between your cotton covered core.

“God, fuck!” You whine, swearing you could come from this alone. Dave groans into your breasts, hands coming to take hold at your hips and help guide your movements to grind down further into him.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful” Dave lets out, breathless as you rock on top of him, your body on full display as you take out your pleasure on him with each downward press of your pelvis into his. “My perfect girl” he praises before surging upwards to capture your mouth with his once more, tongues entwining immediately into that all too familiar dance now as he wraps a strong arm around your waist and easily flips you both until you’re underneath him, his body weight gently pressing you deeper into the mattress as he kisses you until you’re both left breathless.

He’s cradled deliciously right between your legs as you lay on your back with your knees bent and raised in the air to accommodate him as he slowly continues to grind against you and before long it gets to be simultaneously too much, yet not enough and you reach down, desperately shoving at the soft material of his boxers to get them off. He laughs against your lips between kisses but quickly obliges your silent request, aiding you in pulling them all the way down before he can kick them away and then slowly he lowers himself down the length of your body, pausing to kiss and lick and nip at whatever piece of flesh he finds along his descent until he’s up on his elbows with his face hovering right above your core.

“Dave, fuck” you whine, hand instinctively reaching out to push through his hair.

Dave however seems intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity as he places a soft kiss to your still covered mound, then gently rubs his nose through the seam of your folds and finally sticks his tongue out to lap a few times at your panties, creating enough of a wet spot between his saliva and your own arousal that it nearly feels like there’s no barrier between you at all, your white panties surely transparent by now.

“Please, please, please.” It’s barely above a whisper. A pathetic whine, really, the way you beg for him. Need him.

He turns his head, placing little kisses at your thighs and hips until finally his hands go to the elastic waistband of your panties and he slowly peels them down your legs until you’re finally rid of them and he tosses them to the floor before crawling back up your body and capturing your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing down each one of your moans with his mouth.

“I need you” you confess, breathless and writhing under the solid weight of him.

Dave groans, pulling his lips away from your mouth to nuzzle into your throat instead where he voices his own desperation “need you too. Fuck I need you”.

You moan at his admission, reaching to grab for his face to bring it back to yours but he diverts slightly downwards, bringing the attention of his mouth back to your breasts. He takes one into his mouth while his right hand gropes the other, massaging and kneading the flesh under his large grasp before delicately taking your pebbled nipple between his fingers to pinch and tweak at it until you’re writhing into his touch all over again.

Dave always made sure to prepare you for him, but never had the two of you taken so much time for just foreplay and you feel like you’ve been on the edge of an orgasm for an eternity by now. You’re used to Dave taking you hard and fast but tonight he seems perfectly content on taking his time to unravel you until you’re nothing but putty in his hands, desperate for him to carve you out and mold you into his body however he sees fit.

Before long his free hand drifts down your side and goes between your legs and when he feels how absolutely soaked and ready you are he lets out a little growl of need and for a moment you’re certain the Dave you’re used to is about to take over. He’s going to toss you around until you’re in the position he wants and drive his cock into you so hard and fast that you forget your own name and can only scream out his.

But you wait, and it doesn’t happen. He continues to gently kiss, lick and play with your breasts while his other hand presses into your folds, slides down to plunge two fingers inside of you and raises his thumb to circle your clit. Your hands become lost in his hair, desperate for anything to hold onto as you grind yourself into his hand, panting, moaning and whispering little bits of praise at how well he takes care of you and Dave is absolutely eating it up. With every little adoration that slips past your lips he moans or whimpers into your skin, eager for your praise and eager to please you and it’s night and day to the Dave you’re used to that tells you to stay still and take what he has to give you.

A third finger joins the first two as he slowly strokes your walls, curling them at just the right spot deep inside of you that has you mewling and whimpering under his delicate touch. They drag in and out of your core at a slow but precise pace as he works you open, his mouth never faltering from pleasuring your breasts while his hand drives you to the brink of sanity. He knows your body well enough by now that he can sense when you’re getting close and he amps up his pace, fingers gliding in and out of your wet heat easily with renewed vigor as the lewd sounds of your gushing arousal coating his digits and slapping of skin against skin fills the small space of the bedroom.

Before long, you finally cum on his fingers, back arching and a long drawn out moan releasing from the depths of your throat and Dave’s mouth climbs back up your body to swallow down the rest of your moans while his fingers continue their delightful torture below, working you through your orgasm as your walls pulse and contract around his thick fingers.

“Oh my god” you sigh, hands wrapping around Dave’s head as he buries his face in the side of yours and his hand finally leaves your sex to rest at your hip instead, giving you some reprieve. He shifts to lie on his side next to you now, pressing in close against your body while you lie on your back, body still trembling as you come back down from your high.

“You’re so beautiful” he murmurs, placing a soft kiss just below your ear while his thumb absently runs back and forth against your hip. “So perfect” another kiss, this time to the underside of your jaw and you turn on your side to face him. “So good to me” he concludes, pressing a kiss to your lips.

He’s being so sweet and attentive and incredibly affectionate and though you definitely like the harder, dominating side of Dave, there’s something about his softness that you’re finding just as addictive.

You’re well and truly fucked now. Literally, figuratively.

You try to ignore the way your heart swells as you lie here on your sides face to face, slowly kissing and exploring each other with your hands. Dave’s touch is slow and methodical, like he needs to map out every inch of you to commit to memory like he might never see it again and you arch into his touch every chance you get, desperate to feel more of him. It’s not long before your body is craving him again and with how you can feel him pressed against your belly, you know he needs you too. You roll on top of him and take his face in both hands, ensuring his eyes focus on you and they do, his hands stilling on either side of your hips.

“Make love to me. Please David”

The words barely get past your lips before Dave surges upward, mouth capturing yours in a desperate and heated kiss. His arms wrap around you and he flips you both so you’re underneath him again as his tongue invades the heat of your mouth, the wet muscle wrapping around yours as he seemingly puts every emotion he has into the passionate kiss.

Below you he’s gently lifting one of your legs up so it’s bent at the knee before his hand goes between his own legs to guide himself to line up at your entrance. It’s a slow press of his hips that pushes him inside of you and you both moan into each other's mouth once he enters you, filling you up so completely. He stills once he’s buried to the hilt and and pulls back from your mouth so his forehead rests against yours, your panting breaths mingling in the limited space between you.

Your name leaves his lips in a whisper and it nearly catches you off guard. You’re not even sure you’ve ever heard him say it before. He’s called you lots of names, sure, but never your own and a warmth spreads through your whole body at how it sounds coming from his lips like a forbidden secret meant only for your ears. Your hands go back to his face and pull him back in, your mouths melding together as he slowly begins to move.

“My god you’re fucking perfect” he breathes out as he pulls back just enough so that he can look into your eyes as he gently rocks his hips in and out of you and both your legs come up, locking your ankles together behind his back to keep him impossibly close as he ruts into you. “My perfect girl” he praises, eyes slipping shut as his forehead rests against yours and he focuses all his attention on how good you feel completely wrapped around him, consumed by him.

He fucks you slow and deep for what seems like an eternity, neither of you in any hurry to finish, just wanting to feel. Every slow drag of his cock against the wet heat of your walls sends a tingle down your spine that has your toes curling, ankles digging deeper into the soft and sweat-slicked flesh of his back. Eventually though the need for a release comes on strong and fast for you both and refuses to be ignored. Your legs wrap around his torso a little tighter, your hand in his hair gripping harder and his hot breaths against your neck getting more ragged as his hips pick up the pace.

“Close?” he asks between labored breaths into the shell of your ear and you nod against him.

“Mmmhmm, fuck I’m so close, please”

“C’mere” he breathes, turning onto his side and shifting you into the same position, lying on your right side with your back to his front. He lifts your left leg that rests on top of your right so he can slip in between them again and slide right back into your welcoming heat, both of you groaning in pleasure at how much deeper he can reach inside of you at this angle.

“Oh my god” you cry out when he begins to piston back and forth.

“Right there?” he breathes against the side of your face and you whimper unintelligibly, nodding your head before turning it back so you can capture his lips, allowing him to swallow down each of your moans.

The hand still hooked under your leg wanders slightly until it reaches its prize between your legs, deft fingers pressing down exactly how you need them to and rubbing small tight circles against your puffy, swollen clit and that’s all it takes. Within moments you’re falling apart, a wrecked sob leaving your throat as your arm that’s not currently underneath you comes up to wrap around Dave’s neck, securing him to you as you whimper, whine and moan into his mouth, your orgasm completely taking hold over you for several long seconds.

“Baby, I can’t, I’m - fuck” he groans, holding himself back with no small amount of effort from finishing. The way your walls clamp down around him as he feels your release coating him, your limbs entwined all around his own that tremble and pulse like his own second heartbeat.

“Let go, it’s ok” you manage between shaky breaths, neck still craned so your lips are just a whisper away from his. “Wanna feel you, please. Want you inside me. Fill me up, baby. Please”

The moment the last words leave your lips he pushes in deep one final time and lets go, a strangled groan leaving his lips as he empties inside of you, pulsing as he paints the inside of your walls with rope after rope of his warm spend.

“Oh my god, oh my god” he groans into your throat as he slowly begins moving his hips again, ensuring every last drop of his seed stays buried deep inside you.

“Mmm hmmm” you whine, a desperate little sob escaping you as he continues to fuck his cum into you. “David, baby, god don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop”. He lets out a low growl, fucking you through the aftershocks of both your orgasms for as long as he can manage, then gives one final deep push as far as he can possibly reach and stills for several long seconds until he’s forced to pull back and finally, regretfully, slips out of you.

“Baby,” he sighs, like he’s physically pained by pulling out of you, wishing he could stay there forever. He gently lowers your leg back down and his arms reach around underneath you to embrace you and he rolls you so you’re on top of him, neither of you concerned about your sweat slicked bodies or the sticky mess where his spent cock rests against your swollen sex.

“That was incredible” he confesses in a low whisper before planting a kiss to your temple, a strong arm coming up to wrap around your head and hold you close, afraid if he lets go you might just disappear.

In your post-orgasmic clarity you feel yourself begin to tense as you try to comprehend what exactly you just did and more importantly, what it means. Whatever that was, felt so different than every time before with Dave. You want to open your mouth to say something to him, to discuss what just happened and hopefully get some kind of gauge on what he’s feeling but your brain is a jumbled mess and the words don’t come in time before he’s gently rolling you off of him to get up.

He grabs for one of the discarded towels from earlier that you’d tossed over the back of the armchair in the room and brings it between your legs, gently wiping away any leftover mess that’s there before he bends down and places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m going to take a shower” he tells you and you can do little more than nod your head. You wish you could form at least one coherent thought in your brain but they all escape you. You don’t even know where to begin, or what you even want to say. Or if you should be even having any sort of intimate conversation between the two of you without Marcus present.

None of it feels right, except for the part where it all feels right, and that alone terrifies you. You flip over onto your side and nestle into the pillows, willing for your brain to just shut down and provide you with a few minutes of solace. By some miracle, peace does come to you in the form of sleep, your body too spent and exhausted to stay awake a moment longer and you’re passed out before you even hear the shower stop running.

You don’t wake up to the snick of the hotel door closing shut after Dave gathered up every last piece of evidence of himself in the room and left without a word while you slept soundly, blissfully unaware that when his lips pressed against your forehead right before he walked out the door that it was the last time he intended on ever seeing you again. Either of you.

Next Chapter

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore

[twdnonsense]

Things from TWD Comics that have Mentally Scarred Me

*note: I have never actually read the comics, all of these are things I found online despite having no intention of finding out anything about the comics, so sorry if some stuff is wrong or left out.*

Andrea and Dale dating (this one isn’t horrible, but I still get grossed out because I can only picture the actors from the tv show)

Judith being crushed to death after Lori is shot

The group of bandits graphically attempting to r*pe Carl (who’s like 10 - aka season 1 Carl, which is horrifying to think about!) to the point where they get his pants off, as well as them outright saying to Rick “we’re gonna fuck the boy” (ew, ew, ew!!! And I thought the show version of this scene was bad!)

The governor repeatedly r*ping Michonne & her revenge on him

Negan bashing Glenn’s head in

Negan threatening to let his men gang r*pe an 11/12 year old Carl (even if it is a bluff)

Lydia licking Carl’s exposed eye socket (and the fact that they dated at all, since she’s 16 and he’s 13, but I’ve already ranted about that in another post)

Alpha letting the whisperers r*pe their women, including her own daughter (geez, there’s a LOT of r*pe in this comic, I get that it’s the apocalypse, but what the hell??)

*I know this list is kinda short, but these are the worst ones I could think of off the top of my head, maybe I’ll add more later, but probably not*

[tsintotwo]

Okay, so here’s the fic masterpost I’ve been meaning to make for ages. Most things I write, I don’t ever name. So I’ll make do with descriptions. The list is in chronological order of me posting these on tumblr.  

1. [The Sandman]- Dream x You HELLA NSFW (minors away!) fic. I mean it- the NSFW is the plot. One day I randomly thought ‘You know what I wanna write? A little teasing-type post about kissing Morpheus.’ Then I actually started writing it, and one thing led to another, and long story short here are the links to the three-parts, completed. You’ll see for yourself. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. 

2.  [The Sandman]- AU!Dream x You, lil dark fantasy. Finished. 

3.  [The Sandman]- Dream x You, being with Morpheus, prompted by Midnights (Taylor Swift) tracklist. Had the idea for it when Midnights came out. It was supposed to be 13 little snippets: some fluff, some angst, and just Morpheus-love overall. Well, I got to track 5 before getting distracted by some completely different idea and abandoning this. :( In that sense, it is unfinished. But on the other hand, since each track name is its own little story, it now exists as a set of five completed snippets. Tracks 1- 4. Track 5.

4. [Sweetbitter]- 59 Hours, Jake x You. (Yep, I actually wrote Sweetbitter/Jake fanfic and yep, this one actually has a name). I have this up on ao3 and this is the summary I wrote for it there:  “When a sudden blizzard in NYC ruins havoc on everything including your plans, a stranger offers you shelter in their apartment. You don't know yet, but you two are going to be stuck there together for 59 hours- knowing and learning each other, doing things you couldn't imagine with anyone else, being something for each other in a way that feels too fast, too confusing, too reckless. How do you say goodbye to this, and yet, how do you hold onto something so fragile?” Sort of a Good Girl x Bad Boy thing. Angst, smut, feels. Six chapters. Complete. TW: Drugs, mention of s**cide. 

Two things. One: I’ve had multiple people tell me that they never actually watched Sweetbitter, but loved this. So, if you haven’t watched the show, don’t let that be the thing that stops you if you’re otherwise interested. With all its B flaws and despite me not actually being a fan of the show, this is one of my most favorite things I’ve ever written. And two: HELLA NSFW WARNING!!!!!

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.

5. [The Sandman]- Dream x Reader. (If you, as a regular human woman, ever were to meet Morpheus in the real world, it could go something like this...)

Finished.

6. [The Sandman]- Dream x Reader. (You are a Dream Vortex, he is the Lord of Dreams- you know. Your typical meet-cute. NOT.) 

Now, you’d think as a writer I’d have a better hold of things like potential story length, overall finish timeline, etc., but nope. Not at all, I am ashamed to say. This story became a behemoth, and really it’s way too much for tumblr. But I also can’t not write when there’s good material in my head just begging to be let out. So what I have now is some very long chapters and a promise of the last one. I will say there’s stuff in this dark story that I really, really love, so maybe it won’t disappoint you either if you’re actually willing to invest time reading it. TW: Graphic violence, sexual assault, r*pe, child abuse. 

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.  

That is it, actually. I either write nothing or way too much- much like most everything else I do, but unlike most everything else I do, I can tell you that writing actually makes me feel like I know what I’m doing. When I write- be it original work or fanfic- I know my place in the world. That’s something, isn’t it?

***Later addition:

7. POV: Morpheus is obessed with you.

(What even is this? Well, at least it's finished. And NSFW, so there's that as well.)

[maxattax]

Look Away - Chapter 1

I wrote a fic for EctoImplosion (@ecto-implosion)! @darnwafflessideblog made an animatic and I wrote this fic based on that. You can find his animatic here! I'll be posting one chapter a day for 6 days. :)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Epilogue

---

Wes Weston peered at Danny Fenton’s locker through the lens of his Viewfinder Deluxe, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take a picture. The hallway was silent, save for the low buzz of the fluorescent lights. Class had ended ten minutes ago, and Danny was nowhere to be seen. Wes leaned on the wall and let out an impatient groan.

Danny always came to his locker after school, so there was no way he’d skip it the one day Wes was waiting for him, right? No, definitely not. He just had to be patient and then he’d be rewarded for his efforts. Today he might just be writing an article for the school newspaper, but one day he’d be a real investigative journalist, so he would have to get used to doing stakeouts like this.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Wes saw three figures heading in his direction. He strained to hear their faint voices.

“I’m just saying, the remaster of Doomed needs to change something significant, or it’s not gonna be worth playing. If they’re just upscaling the graphics, I’m not gonna bother buying it. Why split the userbase?”

They got close enough for Wes to recognize them. Danny clapped Tucker on the back. “Oh come on, Tuck, it’ll be fun. You know I’m saving my allowance to get it, whether it has new features or not. What about you, Sam?”

  “It’s pretty important to know how it’s going to play. If nothing changes besides the graphics, it’s basically the same game. But… I preordered it anyway.” Sam shrugged. “New game means new players, which means more people to crush.” She laughed and stopped walking to lean back against one of the lockers.

Danny and Tucker stopped as well. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe I’ll get it,” he said, drawing out the maybe, “but we’ll see what pre-release reviewers think.”

Danny turned to face his locker. His head swiveled side to side, presumably looking to see if anyone was around. Wes was some distance away, but he ducked behind the corner anyway, just to be safe. He peeked back out and saw Danny reaching towards the locker with a book in his hand. Just as his wrist started to sink through the metal door, Wes pressed down on the shutter button. Click!

Danny’s head jerked in Wes’s direction. Wes spun back behind the corner.

“Did you guys hear something?” Danny asked.

“Nope,” his two friends said together.

“Hm. Okay.” Danny pulled his arm out of his locker, hand now empty. “Let’s get out of here and get something to eat.”

Wes waited for the sound of their chatter to fade before peering back around the corner. Nobody was in sight. Good. He relaxed against the wall and clicked through the viewfinder slides to find the newest picture. It was a perfectly framed photo of Danny with his arm phased through his locker. Fantastic.

He walked over to Danny’s locker and rapped his knuckles on the door. It was clearly solid metal. He knew he wasn’t crazy! Danny Fenton really did have ghost powers! But this wouldn’t be enough for the ignorant masses of Amity Park. He’d need more evidence.

—

A couple days later, Wes was no closer to finding concrete proof that Fenton was Phantom. He sat at the lunch table, food forgotten, tapping his pen against his open notebook. He had drawn a table with three columns, labeled “Fenton”, “Phantom”, and “Both”. In Fenton’s column he had written traits such as, “appears scared of ghosts”, “physically weak”, “soft spoken”, and “poor school performance.” Under Phantom, there was “physically strong”, “good at fighting”, “confident”, and “protective of humans”. And in the Both column he had “same appearance”, “access to Fenton tech”, “often seen at Casper High”, and “loves puns”.

He had to admit that his list of similarities was a bit lacking. It must have been some kind of act Fenton was putting on, pretending to be weak so nobody would know he had superpowers. He’d just need to get more photos. Maybe he could get a picture of him changing into his alter-ego, although he wasn’t entirely sure how that worked. Just another mystery to add to the pile.

Wes stole a glance at Danny’s table, hoping to see something suspicious. Danny turned his head and Wes quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed him staring. When he looked back, Danny was no longer there.

“Boo,” said a voice from behind Wes.

“Aah!” Wes nearly fell out of his seat. He slammed his notebook closed and turned around. “Oh. Hi. Danny, right?”

Danny laughed mirthlessly. “You know damn well who I am. Look, I’m gonna need you to stop following me around. It’s kinda creepy.”

Wes’s face blanched. “Uh, I’m not... I’m just taking pictures for the school newspaper.”

Danny put his hands on his hips. “Uh huh. Then why are you sneaking around?”

“Um. They want candid pictures?” Wes didn’t intend for it to come out as a question. Whoops.

Danny sighed. “Fine, whatever. Just stop taking pictures of me, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. I won’t take any more,” Wes lied. Shit, he was gonna have to be more careful. How do you hide from a guy with superpowers?

“Good.” Danny walked back to his table and started speaking animatedly to his friends. Wes wished he could be a fly on the wall to hear that conversation, but he knew better than to say that aloud. Everyone at school remembered when that genie ghost twisted people’s wishes, and he didn’t want to end up turning into a fly or something.

He was getting off track. Danny knew something was up. Wes had thought he was being subtle, but apparently not. He’d have to find sneakier ways to get pictures. A hidden camera would be easier, but for some reason, every camera Wes owned turned out blurry when taking pictures of ghosts. So he’d have to stick with the viewfinder. He wasn’t sure why it worked; maybe it was something about physical film strips? Regardless, subtle or not, this would have to do.

Wes would get his proof. Then he’d get the respect he deserved.