#followed by another month of 'i do NOT have feelings for you it was a MISTAKE' đ„°
hp fanfic recs!!
hello all! i feel like i dont interact enough with this community, so here's some recs for you all (i do follow these people, on my main blog @emptytakeawaycup) give them a follow too!
mattheo riddle;
we aren't over (18+) - @slytherinslut0
summary; fwb gets jealous seeing you kiss another guy at a party after the two of you had called things off
this love - @wordsarelife
summary; mattheo finally asks you to be his girlfriend
let me ruin fuck you (18+) - @slytherinslut0
summary; worried that mattheo was just going to use you for sex and leave, you had him agree to courting you first until you felt you were ready to take it to the next level. after months of this, mattheo finally canât take it anymore, and lands himself on his knees at your feet
theodore nott;
the cat chronicles - @obsessedwithceleste
summary; five times theodore nott *accidentally* stole your cat
darling socialite - @fangisms
summary; you are talkative as all hell, and theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener
just like your boyfriend - @angelfrombeneth
summary; you and theodore are the new it couple in hogwarts. theo's known for always causing up a stir but never you. at least you do yours in private. it isn't until your faced with skylar snaggle, the one girl you can't stand that you break that streak
too many nights - @priniya
summary; theodore nott spent too many nights, smoking and hanging out with mattâs little sister to not make her his girlfriend
second hand smoking - @evergone
summary; a short one where theo teaches the reader how to smoke
i'm [nott] a bad person - @evergone
summary; the reader and theo are accused of causing a fight, but they swear they didn't do it
an unintended double date - @papercorgiworld
summary; enzo doesnât want you ruining his date so he calls in back up to keep you busy, which leads to an interesting date
fred weasley;
something that we're not - @sergeantbuckybarnes
summary; you and fred are friends. best friends. who happen to cuddle and sleep in bed together all the time
anything - @ibbythebee
summary; fred would do anything to see you, "hogwart's strictest prefect", loosen up
first time (18+) - @frenziedfireworks
summary; you've been trying to figure out how to bring up sex to your boyfriend...
george weasley;
blindsided - @desideriumwriter
summary; as the gryffindor quidditch team celebrates their win on the field, malfoy begins to openly throw insults in front of george and fred towards them, their parents, harry, and you. george isnât able to ignore and shrug off his mockery. it only ends in a shocking altercation between the redheaded gryffindor and sneering slytherin
blaise zabini;
everything i'll ever need - @slytherinslut0
summary; your boyfriend whisks you away from the enchanting yule ball, blindfolding your eyes in mystery, alluding to a secret spot. though he suggests it's merely to show you something, what unfolds is a testament to his deep appreciation for your love of nature and a showcase of his genuine gentlemanly demeanour
a night at the museum - @pizzaapeteer
summary; where your boyfriend blaise takes you for your birthday to your favourite place
draco malfoy;
an unintended double date - @papercorgiworld
summary; enzo doesnât want you ruining his date so he calls in back up to keep you busy, which leads to an interesting date
remus lupin;
remus can tell you have a crush on him - @luveline
remus and you exist in your own little bubble - @luveline
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"Maybe I Could Learn to Love You" - Aemond Targaryen x Redwyne!Reader
Grabbed the gif from sabrinaacarpenters
AN: To be real with y'all, We Become We from the Journey to Bethlehem soundtrack totally inspired this. I've not seen the movie but this song is blowing up on my tiktok.
Masterlist here!
Summary: Aemond could never choose to love another. Maybe you could learn to love him too.
CW: tooth rotting fluff, arranged marriage, I tried to be as neutral as possible for reader description, did use daughter 1 time and dear girl 1 time so presumably AFAB daughter, no other descriptors for reader, talks of wine
Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Redwyne!Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
When you were ten, your father was named to King Viserysâ small council. As the younger brother of Lord Redwyne, nobody had anticipated the idea that he would have much more influence than a prominent land owner. So when King Viserys asked him to come to Kingâs Landing and serve in a new position dedicated to agriculture, he accepted immediately and brought you in hopes of securing your future.
That is how you met the young Prince Aemond. He was not much older than you, a year at most. At the time, he was still recovering from the Driftmark Incident as the servants in the castle called it. There had been no hope for saving his eye, and so he was relearning to do everything.
Aemond Targaryen was smitten with you from the beginning. His mother had originally had to argue with him to meet you, as he was the closest person in age to you and perhaps in you he would find a friend. He had never been too fond of people, losing his eye doing nothing to help that. Yet, he had never been more grateful for his motherâs insistence than when he saw you.
It was only you and your father, your mother having died a few years prior. And Aemondâs singular eye focused on you exiting the carriage, much too distracted by discussing a book with your father to notice the Royal Family had come to greet you. When you finally did, your eyes widened, stuttering and stammering apologies about your rudeness.
âPlease never apologize for your passions,â he spoke quickly. A bit too quickly, perhaps, as he thought about how that may have been the place of his father or even his mother. But already you had enraptured him and he would not make any apologies for that.
In the days and months following, his mother had arranged with your father that you and Aemond become companions. Unbeknownst to you, a promise had been made. Your father allow her son to be by your side and you would marry a prince.
All you cared about was having a friend. You had expected Kingâs Landing to feel rather lonely. You left behind cousins and friends in The Arbor. And while knowing that the King and Queen had four children, you had been under the assumption you would be kept separate. So, when your lessons with the Septa were held with Aemond, you were equally surprised and grateful.
Over the years, Aemondâs affections for you only grew. He loved spending time with you, requiring his every waking moment be spent with you. As you grew older and the need for propriety became an issue, he was more than happy to have Ser Criston or even one of the Cargyll twins to accompany the two of you. It didnât matter to him what you did or who was around. If he had you, he was happy.
You had been in Kingâs Landing for six years when you were formally betrothed to Aemond, to be married within a moon of your eighteenth birthday. It took you by complete surprise. It made sense, you supposed. If you looked back on the years, you could see how your friendship with Aemond was considered a courtship. He was ecstatic at the news, you were neutral.
It wasnât a bad idea. Aemond seemed to truly care for you. You knew if your marriage had to be political, better it be to a man such as Aemond. He was good and kind to you, handsome if you were asked to give your opinion. You did not mind his scar or the eyepatch he wore.
Aemond was only slightly disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm at your impending marriage. He figured it was nerves. Coming from a noble house but not being the daughter of its Lord may have caused them when you were presented with such an advantageous marriage. Or perhaps you were so overcome with joy that you were merely struck speechless. He did not mind either way.
It was on your eighteenth birthday that he learned the love he bore you was one sided. He had overheard you speaking to his mother as she gave you a gift. It was a piece of jewelry her mother had once owned, given to you as a way to welcome you. You attempted to deny it. And at her insistence, you confessed why.
âAemond will be a good husband, but I do not love him. It would feel wrong to accept such a beautiful heirloom as such,â you had explained shyly.
âDear girl, you marriage may not be one of love, but you are still joining my family. And you are someone familiar with my home, the home my children may never get to see. Perhaps in this, you can feel connected to our home and teach your children of it,â she explained, placing the necklace around your neck.
Despite the ache in his chest that you did not feel for him what he felt for you, he was not any less determined. He loved you. That would not change.
The day before your wedding, he approached you. You had been so busy in the last week, making final preparations for the day. You were nervous now. It was obvious when he saw you. And despite the fact you did not love him, he knew you still considered him your friend.
âCome with me, my love,â he said softly to you, a book in hand.
Since your betrothal, little pet names are all he called you. You never minded. In fact, you quite enjoyed it. You enjoyed the knowledge that every member of court who thought Aemond was cold could see that he adored you. It may have been wrong, but you felt so powerful in knowing a man such as he could be weak only for you. Perhaps that was why you never made a fuss. You were lucky, luckier than most, in having your intended so dedicated and devoted to you.
âWhere are we going?â you asked him as he began to lead you down the corridor.
He brought you to the weirwood tree. It was often a good place for the two of you to catch a moment of peace. A guardsman would stand at the entrance to the gardens and pay little mind to the small touches Aemond let linger over you. Here, you felt safe and connected to your roots. Here, you felt as though you and Aemond truly were friends.
He sat on the ground, offering you a hand for assistance for sitting gracefully. He knew you were not one of grace, but he thought it cute that you were as coordinated as a newborn lamb. And you were ever so grateful for that fact.
âLay your head in my lap and I shall read to you,â he told you quietly.
You were relieved to have this small moment of reprieve from the stresses of planning an event as grand as this. You had been coordinating with your uncle for the wine for the wedding, with Lord Tyrell for extra grains so that you may have your sweets, with many bards throughout the kingdoms to find one to play their music. The Queen and your father took some of the organizing off your shoulders, of course, but you needed this to be perfect.
And so, you laid your head in his lap. He stroked your hair with one hand as he held the book with the other, his deep voice reading the words of a love story to you. You looked up at him. He was truly handsome. The angles of his jawline and his prominent nose made goose pimples rise across your skin. His lilac eye was focused on the page and not you, but it soothed you nonetheless. And his hairâŠyou could not wait until you were married so as to be able to openly touch it.
âYou are staring awfully hard, darling. Do I have something on my face?â he asked, his eye flickering from the page to you.
âRemove it,â you whispered.
âWe have been over this,â he said quietly. This conversation was the only time he ever seemed cross with you. His jaw clenched every time.
âYes, I am aware you stated not before we were wed. But it is tomorrow. And I wait to gaze upon the entirety of my husband before I am bound to him before the gods,â you told him, offering a coy smirk.
âIf you wish to gaze upon the entirety of me, might I suggest we move to my chambers?â he asked with his own smirk.
You could not help but laugh. He felt comfortable enough with you to laugh, joke, and tease. You were grateful that you could grant him this existence.
âPlease, Aemond. How can you expect me to marry you and partake in what is to come if you do not trust me enough to show me you?â you asked him quietly. He knew you spoke of the wedding ceremony that was to be held, and how you feared it, but you had assured him you would do it for him.
You could see how jaw clench again, his nostrils flaring slightly. You had always felt the liberty to argue against him. It was one of the things he loved about you, how you forgot what was expected of you to speak your mind.
But finally, his hand withdrew from your hair as he placed the book aside. Perhaps you had spoken too freely and finally he was getting angry with you. Instead, his hands reached behind his own head.
He had the strap unfastened yet did not remove it. He looked to you. A genuine fear could be seen on his face.
âAnd if you decide it is too disgusting to gaze upon? What shall I be expected to do then?â he asked you in a quiet voice.
âIt would not dissuade me from marrying you,â she told him. It was true, in equal parts because you knew there was no chance of that changing now and the fact you knew you were lucky to be marrying a man such as this. âThough I suppose I would order a bag be kept over your head. Or perhaps only approach you in dark rooms.â
It was a tease, you both knew it. But he was still worried about how much truth hung in your words. He didnât want you to be disgusted by him.
Seeing how uneasy Aemond still was, you reached up and placed your hand on his. âYou love me?â you asked him quietly.
âI could never choose to love another,â Aemond said quickly to you, confirming to you what you already knew.
âThen have faith in me that I will not turn or cower. Have faith in me that I want this marriage, this life, with you,â you told him gently as you began to slowly pull your hand away, bringing his along.
He allowed his hands to be removed, holding the eyepatch in them. The piece of leather had made its indention in his skin from being fastened too tightly. Your eyes then focused on the dazzling blue sapphire that had been secured in the socket.
Aemond noticed how your gaze softened, your entire body going lax. He began to quickly attempt to hide himself, feeling flustered as his pale skin flooded red. A panic built up in him.
âNo,â you whispered, taking hold of his hands again. âPlease. Do not hide this beauty from me. If you wish to wear it in public, I will stand by that decision. But it would do me a great disservice if you hid away such art when we are alone.â
Your wedding was perfect, if Aemond had any opinion on it. Your hard work had paid off tenfold. Every guest had enjoyed the feast after you were bound to Aemond. It felt like your greatest accomplishment, proving you were up to this insurmountable task of marrying a prince.
When all the Lords were too overtaken by their food and drink to notice, Aemond took your hand and led you away from the main hall. For a moment, you worried about how it would look if you were to be seen alone together. Then you remembered you were now married and felt relieved, albeit a little stupid.
âWhere are we going? We will be missed,â you said, giggling a bit as you followed close behind him.
âMost are too drunk to remember they have toes, I doubt we will be missed too much,â he assured you.
You followed him in silence. It was sweet, you thought, that he was eager to finally have a true moment alone with him. He allowed himself to be soft with you, something you adored. It allowed an ease to be felt between the two of you.
The two of you trekked through the entirety of the Keep. Upstairs, downstairs, around corners, and through doorways you didnât know existed. Then he brought you through a last doorway that lead into one of the apartments that you had never before been in.
It was a room almost too grand to imagine. It was filled with an inexplicable warmth you had missed since first coming to Kingâs Landing. The furniture was the standard styles of all the Keepâs furniture, being obviously expensive and well crafted. What caught your eye was the subtleties of it.
Grape vines had been made to grow so that they hung over the windows. You could smell the salty sea water of Blackwater Bay with every small gust of wind. A bowl of peaches laid on the bedside table. The duvet on the bed was a deep burgundy as though it were made from the sweetest wine.
âIt occurred to me that you have not returned home since you arrived,â Aemondâs voice entered your ears.
You had been too busy looking over everything to remember his existence. You let out a breath you hadnât realized you were keeping and tears flooded to your eyes. The room felt exactly like how you remembered The Arbor.
He lead you to the windows, holding your waist with one hand. He kept you on his right side, his good side, as he did so. He looked down at you as you looked up to him.
âPart of your wedding gift is that I have ensured there will be no bedding ceremony,â he whispered while placing his hand on your chin.
âAemond, IâŠthere are no words,â you stammered out, as your eyes widened. There was no way you could imagine how it was possible. It was expected of royalty.
âYour other part, is this,â he told you. With a gentle grip, he turned your face outwards before removing his touch.
It was beautiful. The night sky littered with stars, the Bay extending into the horizon, forgetting the existence of the land that it was meant to wash away. Lights flickering had dotted the landscape.
âI fear I do not understand,â you whispered, looking to him confused. You realized he had taken his eyepatch off while you werenât paying attention. Once again your breath was taken from you.
He looked from the beauty of the night to you. You were his own private beauty, one that he would get to keep for his entire life.
âI know you do not love me,â he told you, shaking his head when you began to say something. âNo, no, I understand. And it does not deter me from loving you every moment of my life.â
âI want to love you,â you whispered breathlessly.
âIt is okay if you do not. But my gift to you is a promise,â he said, his fingers running along your jawline. âI am the second son of a king who cannot remember how to chew his food, let alone care for his family. I have never held any lands, nor have I ever proved myself in battle. But my heart and soul are yours. We can go wherever you wish. I will build you a castle from the ground to the stars with nothing but my hands if you asked me to. I promise you I will spend every breath giving you every star. I will give you my entirety.â
You didnât look away from him. Your heart was pounding against your chest, every moment feeling like you were seconds away from crying. Whenever you thought of love and devotion, this was what you thought of. He was willing to set the world on fire for you even without the promise of love.
âMaybe I could learn to love you, too.â
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Yoga partner
word count; 667 â pregnant!reader
You were a few months pregnant and every time you felt like you were adjusting to the size of your bump, it seemed to get bigger. When you found out you were pregnant, your husband, Bokuto Koutarou, had been moved to tears and there was no lack of support from him so far through the pregnancy. Thatâs why you werenât afraid to communicate your troubles to him as they started plaguing your mind.
As it got more difficult to adjust to your body changing, the two of you sat down to research pregnancy activities. And then Koutarou got bored of researching, so he ended up asking someone on the team who had kids instead.
Thatâs how he learnt about pregnancy yoga. There were classes specifically for pregnant women, and in his excitement, Koutarou had signed you up and encouraged you to go. However, now he was looking at you with a subtle pout as you leaned on the kitchen island, not feeling as sporty as you wished you did.
âI donât want to go. What if all the others are used to it and do super well while I can barely do anything?â you complained, pouting right back at him. This made him huff, resting his arms on his hips. Then his eyes lit up again. Oh no, an idea.
âMaybe I should go with you!â
Next thing you knew, Koutarou was helping you out of the car, adorned in the gym wear he had that most resembled yours in colour. You were laughing softly, holding his hand as he babbled about how excited he was.
When you walked inside, your laughter died down as you scanned the room. A lot of moms-to-be were staring cautiously, first at you and then at your husband who smiled and waved. You felt the anxiety creep back into you as you whispered your husband's name to alert him, but he took no notice.
âHello, ladies! Ready for a good workout?â he called out, and it didnât take long before the moms melted for his personality (and looks probably, but you tried to ignore that for now). In the end, he wasnât allowed inside the class because of the women's comfort, but he gave everyone encouraging high fives while the trainer led them inside the little gym. Before closing the door behind you as you were last, you turned to him and pulled his shirt down so you could kiss him fiercely.
âThatâs for being such a perfect man. Iâll see you in an hour.â
Koutarou was thrilled to see the glow back in your cheeks when you came back out. He had gone for a jog around the neighbourhood but made sure he was back before you finished. When you walked out of the class, you were conversing happily with another woman before bidding her goodbye. You made new friends! Even though you were still shy, you had asked to exchange numbers.
All of this was possible because your husband encouraged and supported you. You truly were blessed to have him and he reminded you every day how lucky you were through this constant support.
Now you even bring him into the living room at least once a week so the two of you can do pregnancy yoga by following some videos you found on YouTube. Itâs great fun and Koutarou proudly documents it in the workout journal they fill out for their trainer.
7 pm Pregnancy yoga
Iwaizumi tilted his head at him curiously after looking over this monthâs notes. âYouâre not supposed to write your wifeâs workouts.â
âWeâre doing them at home now, too. Feel like itâs doing great things for my bum,â he answered, one hand on each asscheek for emphasis. Iwaizumi already regretted asking about it. Atsumu slapped one of Koutarou's hands off from behind him before staring at his butt and humming.
âNot bad. Maybe we should all do it.â
To say the least, Koutarou is very dedicated to being with you every step of the way.
masterlist
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Look At Meâ
Ëââ§àšà§ â§
>>contents: in which Sunghoon becomes jealous of his admirer, y/ns new friend
>>warnings: fluff, angst, kinda cliche romance
>>now playing: Look At Me - Twice
Everyone in the campus knows of y/ns crush on Sunghoon, its no surprise that she follows him everyday, gives him lunch which he never eats, tries to strike up a conversation which he never answers and so much more. The head over heels girl was so in love with the quiet popular boy that never considered her a choice
"Sunghoon, good morning!" Greeted y/n with a happy smile, after all it was always a good day when she meets sunghoon first thing in the morning
As always Sunghoon didnt answer anything, instead walking away from the interaction. leaving a disappointed but not suprised y/n to stand alone in the hallway
"i don't get why you still chase him y/n, hes such a cold guy that doesnt even appreciate what uve been doing to him for the past months" said Sana, y/ns best friend who saw her interaction with him
"Dont be like that! Maybe one day he would finally see me as a someone, i just need to have patience" said y/n enthusiasticly
Sana only sighed and shook her head before dragging y/n to class
After class finished, Sana, y/n along with Danielle and Hyein all went to the cafeteria to eat. As always y/n prepared sunghoons meal beforehand
The daily routine goes about how y/n would approach Sunghoon to give him his cooked meal only for Sunghoon to give a slight nod and later throwing it away
As y/n was about to approach the cold boy, Hyein stopped her. "I don't think you should do it today y/n. I heard he failed his history exam and is in a bad mood today"
"Nonsense! I do this everyday, im sure by now its a natural occurrence to him" said y/n stubbornly, Hyein can only sigh at the realization that her best friend was head over heels for the boy.
Y/n approached his table, there was him and his other popular friends. "Hi Sunghoon, here's ur meal" said y/n while giving Sunghoon a lunch box which she cooked before school
She didn't expect sunghoon to suddenly snap. "God y/n why can't you realize that i don't like you? Is that too much to comprehend for your stupid and stubborn head? Do you not realize that i never ate your lunch? Do u not realize that i would never like someone as low as you?" Said Sunghoon furiously.
Y/n felt her heart shattering at his words, sure Sunghoon never said thank you to her, but he never snapped at her especially in front of the cafeteria, where everyone was watching
Sunghoon continued to bash her and humiliate her infront of the cafeteria, y/n just stood there trying to hold back her tears, looking at the ground
Danielle and the rest quickly approached the commotion and pulled y/n to the girls bathroom to fix herself. All y/n did was cry, she didn't expect for Sunghoon to humiliate her for the entire school to see, all she can think was the revenge she wants. She wasn't sure of whats happening but she is sure about one thing, she doesn't like him anymore
They comforted her and walked her to her next period
"Listen up students, today we have a new student" said their teacher
"Hello, im Soobin. Please treat me well" said the new student whos name seems to be Soobin
Y/n wasn't paying attention though, she was still in shock about what happened at lunch earlier
"Soobin can sit next to y/n, y/n raise your hand" y/n heard that and raised her hand
"Hi, I'm Soobin" said soobin who saw the gloomy girl
"Hi im y/n" said y/n shortly, again still sad about what happened
Although it turns out, y/n and Soobin seems to have a click. They enjoy the same tv shows, has the same opinions, understands each other's humor, they instantly became close friends by the end of the lesson
The next day, Sunghoon didn't expect her to not greet him first thing in the morning, instead avoiding him. At first he was feeling good with this change, it was one thing off his plate and now he didn't have to be annoyed by another admirer
Y/n was having a good day, she spent time with Sana, Hyein, Danielle and Soobin. The people who appreciates her and loves her for who she is
At lunch time, Soobin and y/n ate at the cafeteria together. Sana and Hyein was busy studying for their history test in the library, while Danielle was practicing tennis at the school field. Which ultimately left them both together to get lunch
Y/n had so much fun, Soobin's jokes were making her mood so happy today.
Unbeknownst to her, Sunghoon who arrived at the cafeteria before her was staring at her, he was confused on why she didn't even greet him, nor did she give him lunch today
"Seems that uve got a staring problem, u like her or smth?" Jay jokingly asked
"No? Why would i like her? Im happy that she's finally not clingy to me anymore, i never liked her anyways" said Sunghoon. Y/n heard that sentence and she feels her heart shattering once again
"Don't say that, she put a lot of effort on ur lunch that u throw everyday, atleast give her some credit" Heeseung, Sunghoons friend said
"Yeah, if i had an admirer that put in that much effort i would be honored, besides she's quite cute" Said Sunoo, who in return received a glare from Sunghoon
"Hey do you know that guy? He keeps glaring at our direction since we've arrived" Said Soobin, pointing to the person not other than Sunghoon
"Hm? I don't know him, he is probably just spacing out" reasoned y/n while trying to drag soobin out of the cafeteria
Sunghoons deathly glare at both of them certainly was a shock to y/n, usually he never even looks at her even if she tries to talk to him, but she ultimately brushed that thought to her just being dramatic
This went on for weeks, Soobin and y/n became practically attached (platonically) and Sunghoon would always often stare at them the whole time
Sunghoon still wouldn't admit to anyone (even to himself) that he misses y/n, her talks, her lunch, and just her being clingy to him. Until one day he finally had enough
It was lunch break, as usual y/n along with her friendgroup was walking to the cafeteria to get some food, Sunghoon knew this and took the opertunity to approach y/n and her friends
"Y/n can i talk to u?" Asked Sunghoon who was still giving Soobin glares. Before y/n can answer Danielle did. "What do you want sunghoon, leave y/n alone she isn't bothering you anymore" said Danielle while the others agreed.
"No i promise it's not about that, can i just speak to y/n privately for a moment? It won't take long" Sunghoon tried to reason. Finally y/n said "Fine, you guys can go to the cafeteria first ill catch up later" said y/n
Once they were finally alone, Sunghoon immediately said "Why do you keep avoiding me these past few weeks? I thought u liked me" said Sunghoon
Y/n scoffed "How do you expect me to keep clinging on to u after what you said? Its true, u never appreciated my efforts. I should've listened to Sana" said y/n with a slight crack in her voice
"What about Soobin, what is with that guy and why are u guys suddenly close? Do you like him now?" Asked Sunghoon bitterly
"Don't bring Soobin in this conversation, you know very well that this is your fault, me and Soobin are just friends, but whatever we would be is none of your business. I thought u hated me anyways? What happend to u having one thing off ur plate?" Said y/n
"I didn't mean it i swear, i was in a bad mood. Im sorry, i genuinely miss all the things u usually do to me in the past, i don't like it when u look at anyone else, look at me" said Sunghoon with a slight pout
"it's okay, i forgive you. Besides i kinda miss making you lunch" y/n said half jokingly
"I promise ill change" said Sunghoon while kissing her forehead
Since that day, sunghoon and y/n ultimately started dating (against Sana, Hyein, and Danielles will)
đł: divider: @iluvrei & @chilumitos! Other pictures are from pinterest, credits to all the owners
A/N: feel free to send in a request xx
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Glass
           After it was all over, Aziraphale sat on the edge of a bluff and let his feet hang over the side. Rivers and farmland stretched before him. In the distance he spotted a church crouched behind a copse of trees. His heel knocked loose a pebble. He watched it tumble into empty space and wondered what it would feel like to follow.
           Behind him he heard the gentle rumble of an engine. The sound of a door slamming shut was muted, as was the crunch of boots on gravel as someone approached. He didnât look around.
           A wine bottle was thrust before his eyes. Automatically, he noted the vintage. He must have gone to some effort for this.
           âDrink?â
           Aziraphale nodded.
           Crowley dropped beside him, sending another cascade of pebbles down the cliff. He produced two wine glasses and handed one to the angel.
           Once the wine had generously been decanted, Crowley knocked his glass against Aziraphaleâs with a bright ring that vibrated through his fingers.
           âI believe congratulations are in order,â he said, taking a swig.
           âHmm,â Aziraphale murmured. He peered into his glass. He could see his reflection along the outer rim.
           Crowley cleared his throat. âThey underestimated you.â He hesitated, then made an aborted gesture with one hand. âI underestimated you.â
           Aziraphale took a long pull from his glass.
           Crowley planted his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, trying to catch Aziraphaleâs eye. When the angel didnât look up, he turned away, face etched with resignation. He kicked a heel against the cliff and watched dirt shower down.
           Aziraphale took this opportunity to eye the demonâs profile.
           âHow does it work?â he asked.
           Crowley looked over his shoulder. âHow does what work?â
           âNo Heaven. No Hell.â The icy hand that had been stalking him the last few months seized his heart. âHow do you know good from evil?â A dark void threatened to open up beneath his feet. If he put one foot wrong he would fall in and keep falling, forever. He struggled to breathe. âWhat if you canât? What if thereâŠisnât? At all?â
           Suddenly there was a hand on his arm. He could hear his breath harsh in his ears as he looked at it. He looked up into Crowleyâs yellow eyes.
           âItâs okay angel. Breathe.â
           Aziraphale could feel tears gathering in his eyes. âThe sheer â arrogance,â he murmured, âto think that I â â
           âArrogant?â A strangled laugh struggled in the demonâs throat. âAziraphale â you are the only person I met in all of Hell or Heaven who cared â at all â to even try to figure out what was right and wrong,â he said intently, every line of him leaning forward, eyes wide, trying to make him understand. âThe arrogance to try? What about the arrogance of thinking you donât have to?â His breath pulled rapidly in and out of his chest.
           The tears Aziraphale had been fighting spilled over.
           âIâm not sure this is going to be comforting but â I donât think anyone knows for sure, certainly not me,â Crowley said. His grip on Aziraphaleâs arm tightened. âIâm not sure that what the Almighty imparted in the garden was knowledge of good and evil so much that it was knowledge that everything is complicated and all of it matters so much. It deserves your conscience and your doubt. It deserves your best effort.â
           He tilted his head, tried to catch Aziraphaleâs eyes. âI am not worried about you at all,â he said, lips quirking in an attempt at a smile. âYou, who gave your sword away at the very Beginning. Youâve always had a heart for these things.â
           Aziraphale raised a hand to wipe his eyes and Crowley let go, turning to look out over the landscape below. Aziraphale immediately missed his grip; but he was still close, shoulders brushing together.
           ââSides,â Crowley said, aiming for nonchalance and falling staggeringly short, âIâll still be here. Itâs easier together, I think.â
            Crowley looked out at the fields and Aziraphale looked at Crowley. He was swamped by the urge to put his head on Crowleyâs shoulder and only just managed to resist it.
           Aziraphale looked into his glass. âAbout what you said â in the bookshop ââ he began.
           Crowley flung up a hand to head him off. He drained the rest of his glass in one go. âWe donât need to talk about that,â he rasped.
           Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. âDonât we?â
           Crowley shook his head emphatically. âItâs okay. Iâm sorry I said anything. OrâŠâ He hesitated, his eyes dropping to Aziraphaleâs lips before careening away. ââŠdid, anything. You donât need to sayâŠwhat youâre going to say. I promise I wonât do it again.â He sloppily crossed his heart and pushed himself to his feet.
           Aziraphale listened to his footsteps crunching back toward the Bentley. A kind of calm anger poured in and began filling up his chest. His face set like stone. âThatâs a shame,â he said out loud.
           The footsteps paused. âWhat was that?â
           âI said â â Aziraphale pushed himself to his feet and turned around. Crowley stood halfway to the car, bottle and glass in one hand, keys in the other.
           âI said,â he said, âitâs a shame that you will never again tell me that you love me; will never kiss me again.â He twisted his hands together, fingernails biting into skin. âI was rather hoping you would.â
           Crowley stared at him.
           Aziraphale moved forward until they were only inches apart. He held Crowleyâs eyes.
           Crowley hesitated for a long moment, searching his face. Finally he swayed forward, almost helplessly, head tilted, and pressed his lips to Aziraphaleâs.
           Aziraphale inhaled sharply and leaned into the kiss. He brought one hand around to grip Crowleyâs shoulder, and used the other to cup Crowleyâs face. A tremor ran down Crowleyâs body. Aziraphale brushed his thumb along Crowleyâs jawline and deepened the kiss. That icy hand retreated and Aziraphale dared to hope he would learn how to keep it at bay. He felt like he had stepped outside in winter and found a patch of sun.
           He pulled back and smiled to himself at the dazed expression on Crowleyâs face. âDo you want to get rid ofâŠâ he indicated the bottle and glass still in Crowleyâs hand.
           Crowley slowly dragged his eyes away and looked at the offending objects. âHm? Oh, right.â Unceremoniously, he tossed them away, stuffing the keys back into his pocket as he did so. His arms encircled Aziraphale and pulled him back in for another heady kiss.
           The glass hit the ground, but instead of shattering into shards, it shattered into seeds, which germinated far too rapidly, extending tender green shoots and fragile white roots until a patch of wildflowers had rooted in the gravel beside the road, an eddy of pink, red, purple, and impossible blue.
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tolerate it - d.w
Paring; dean x reader
Prompt; 'I wait by the door like I'm just a kid'
Requested; @simonsbluee
Notes;this is my all time fav cry song. i actually wrote an anakin version as well lmao I'll post that in a min :) requests are open!
Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist
You stared blankly at the wall in front of you. âSweetheart. Come on, talk to me.â Dean took a seat beside you, turning his body to face you. âThis is the third time in two weeks.â You kept your gaze on the wall as you spoke.Â
âItâs only a few days.â He placed his hand over yours, leaning in slightly. You quickly pulled your hand back, a sharp breath leaving your lips. âItâs always only a few days.â You hissed standing from the bed. âA few days then becomes a week because oh look Sam found another case.â You leaned back on the dresser, finally facing him.
âAnd I just get left behind, sitting here waiting on you both like someâŠsome child!â Dean stared at you his face passive. âWhat do you expect me to do? Bring you withâ His gaze hardened slightly as he spoke. âYou donât have any sort of training, iâd only be putting you and us in danger!â Dean stood coming to stand before you.Â
âIâm trying to keep you safe.â
âKeeping me trapped is your way of keeping me safe?â You shook your head. âJust go.â Dean reached out wrapping a hand around your wrist. âDonât be like this.â He tilted his head, a small frown playing at his lips. âLike whatâ
âDifficult. Donât be difficultâ He snapped. You froze at his words, your blood running cold. Your head turned to face him, and a look of betrayal crossed your features for a moment before you calmed your expression. Difficult. Heâd called you difficult all because youâd complained about being left.Â
Most of the time you felt second best. Second best to all the creatures out there that he seemed so determined to kill. You knew it was a difficult job but youâd never expected it to come first.
You could count on one hand the number of times this month alone Dean had been home for more than one day consistently. You couldnât remember the last time youâd even been on a date with him.Â
âJust go.â You pulled your hand from his grip, your voice thick as you pushed back tears. You quickly left the room taking a breath to compose yourself. âWe need to talk about this.â Deanâs voice followed you down the hall. He let out a huff watching as you took a seat at the map table. You grabbed a book before opening it.
Youâd done this a hundred times. Dean and you would fight, youâd complain about being stuck here and then heâd promise, ânext time sweetheartâ. And then heâd go off for days with little to no contact before heâd come back mostly beaten and bruised.
You could feel him watching you as you swallowed trying to hold back your tears. Did he truly think you were that helpless, that you would be that much of a risk to even take on a hunt.
Dean quietly moved behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. Your breath hitched slightly as you felt his breath hit your ear. âIâll make it up to you, i promise.â He pressed a kiss to the side of your head.
You felt his weight leave your shoulders as he straightened up. The sound of his footsteps echoed as he left the room.
A shaky breath left your lips as you felt your composure break. Pressing a hand to your mouth you placed the book down finally allowing the tears to follow.
After a moment you managed to calm yourself. You glanced back down the hallway, the bunker suddenly seeming larger now that you were alone.
âYou always say that.âÂ
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â€Another astrological observationsâ€
Ps: i am still learning and astrology is a forever learning subject. It may or may not be relatable. :)
-------------------
âąÂ° solar return observations °âą
Solar return 7th house- the sign in your 7th house of your solar return will probably be the one to backbitch/backstab youđ. For eg- having Sagittarius descendant, people with sag sun or prominent sag placements are likely going to do you very wrong. đđȘ°
SR Uranus in 1st- an apparent change in the appearance of the individual. Dying their hair, a haircut, change in the makeup looks, joining the gym, having skincare routine, etc.đŠđ
SR Jupiter in the 12th- spiritual enlightenmentđ§ââïž. Could be the time youre very sensitive to the energies of the people. Seeing spirits frequentlyđ». (Hack- wear black tourmaline for the shield against negative energies). This is the time when everything will be clear to you, the intentions of the people, their traits, their habits, their traumađ€ (your's aswell).đœ
SR moon in the 6th- sensitive to other people's words, their criticism, etc. Take care of your health at this time please. Eating disorder. Very moody. Might eat spicy food alot. đ„Č
SR neptune in the 11th- the friends, peers, acquaintances you have, you'll be getting to know about them more clearlyđ in negative way ofcourse, Alot of deceiving, lying, manipulation, taking behind your back, cheating, blah blah blah.đđȘđ©ž
SR Saturn in the 11th- yes you ARE GOING TO LOSE FRIENDS, even the closest friend you haveđ. I honestly LOVE Saturn whatever house it's in because it fucking slaps you so hard that you begin to see everyfuckingthing very clearlyđ€Șđ¶âđ«ïž. Its going to be hard for you but dont worry youre better of with little to no friends than lying poopies.đ©đ
SR venus in the 1st- you're going to be every 2nd person's crush, like literally fr. You're guna appear more ethereal and soft to the other person, maybe innocent too which will make the other person wAnT tO pRoTeCt YoU aT aLL cOsTđ„ș because to them you're vulnerable to the worldđđđđ.
SR mars in the 3rd- alot of fights with your siblings/ cousins/ childhood friends. Way of communication may be direct, more straight forward, could even be a little cruel eheđ€. Probably guna put people in their fucking place. Humbling down people alot.đ
SR aquarius ascendant- very detached from the emotions. Its like giving yourself 5 minutes to feel everything then after that, stop feeling completely until the next year. ORRR.... you could be in your feelings for the 1st or last 6 months then the rest of the year? Nonchalantđ§(could be opposite).Your mood for the year: 'eehh'đ 'Okhay'đ 'Yeah'đ 'Mhm'đ 'No'đ 'Don't'đ 'Shut up'đ 'Can you leave me alone'đ 'Youre so annoying'đ 'Can you stop'đ 'Omg youre a fucking fe/male'đ. Might be the year you'll question your sexuality.
SR lilith in the 4th- watch your closest ones/ own family turn against you just cuz you stood up against their negativity and manipulation. Oof!! đđđTHE BEST YEAR EVERRR!!!đ„łđ€Żđ Sarcasm intented. Theyre going to spread false rumors about you. Play victim card in the situations they create. Its like creating a problem for you to solve.đ§đ»ââïžđ§ââïžđŁ
SR venus in the 5th- will attract ALOT of love interestsđđ„đ§Č but since its a 5th house, it wont be long lasting. For girls: this placement can make guys crazily obsessed with you for monthsss beware as they can note down your every move (3 of my friends had this and the guys ended up following them home, it was scary). For guys: this can make girls want to be with you just bcz everyone wants you, youre the center of everyone's attention (cheating could be involved toođ)
SR Sun/mars/pluto in the 6th- take care of your health because; sun: can make you vulnerable to the evil eyes which could lead you to falling sick frequentlyđȘ°đ§ż. Mars: your anger, impulsiveness, all the othet martian feelings, can make you sick as well, so beware of your surroundings and your mental healthđ. Pluto: the jealousy with this can turn physical real quickâïž. And all three: JUST. TAKE. CARE. đ đ«
SR moon in the 7th- sweeeeettttt cravings will âŹïžâŹïž. Feeling very joyful for no reasonđ. Feeling 'Butterfly in the stomach' frequentlyđŠ. LovesickđâđŠș.
SR mercury in the 5th- you could hear from a friend that a lot of "certain someone's" like youđ. Love to talk about your interests and hobbies. Involvement in frequent get-togethers, random friends meetđđ»ââïž.
SR saturn in the 8th- might deal with your own fears. Could be a triggering year for youđ§.
SR nn in the 9th/12th- frequent travelsđș. Might overthink alot about the world and the life (a lot of what's, why's, who's, how's, etc).
Wherever SR Jupiter is, you're expanding that. Like for eg- 5th house: your interests, might pursue your hobbies, or if you already are, lets say an artist, youll expand your art, the type of drawings you make. 2nd house: your business. Money. Self esteem. Confidence. 11th house: your friend circle, electronics, etc.
SR saturn/neptune in the 8th- out of nowhere setbacks, betrayal, cheating, etc are possible. BUT you WILL receive a news about CERTAIN SOMEONE which will make you question themđ€«. Or youll get to know some f-ed up family secretsđ.
SR Scorpio ascendant- watch people getting intimatedđđ»ââïž. You're guna hear rumorssss about youuuđđ€«. Random guys/girls approaching you with the intention of "hUmBLiNg YoU dOwN" đŁđ© (ykwim).
SR venus in the 7th- randomly, out of nowhere, falling for someone veryyyy haaarrrddđłđ¶đ»ââïž.This usually happens within 3-5 months after your birthday.
Whereas... đ
SR neptune/saturn in the 7th- showing you why you shouldn't haveđ. (If i were you i wouldn't give them a 2nd chance, many people don't deserve itđ§. Pay attention if its their "traits" or "company" either way, you shouldn't forgive them because "traits" are self explanatory, they wont ever change, and if its the "company" affecting them then its guna be tiring for you and trust me you wouldn't want a person who is gullibleđ§đ»ââïž).
SR Uranus anywhere- sudden. Anything sudden. For the better or the worseđ. Out of nowhere. Unexpectedđ. The ex you didn't see? Here s/he comesđ©. Job offerđ. Oldest friend contacting youđââïž.realization about career path. Your personality, your looks. Family dynamics. Home, etc.
SR lilith/neptune in the 1st/5th/7th/8th/10th/11th- people be copying youuuu i seeeeđ. Your secret enemies wanting to be youđ. Copying your style, outfit, skincare. Haircare, haircut, your hobbies, even your career pathđ€Ÿââïž. Amd they'll still have the audacity to TELL YOU how you should be doing *insert what you're good at* đ§đ»ââïžđ§ââïžlike?????. Jealousy runs deeeppp đ¶âđ«ïž.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Thank you for reading :) <3
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I owe you a kiss - Pt.9
Pairing: Minchan x femReader
Word Count: 2943
Summary: Minho and you spend a day at the art gallery, Chan takes you out for dinner by the river. Both of them try their best to make room for you and reconnect. You haven't been so happy in a while.
Warnings/Tags: fluff, dinner date, museum date, soft!min, soft!chan
A/N: Thought I'd surprise you with another chapter today that I wrote after posting chapter 8. I think we could use the fluffđ€đ€
PART EIGHT | PART TEN (coming soon)
You exchange a soft smile with your husband, tilting your head at him. âYouâre okay?â you ask gently. For a moment, all you can hear is the low hum of the city life outside the window.Â
âLetâs go out today?â he asks suddenly, his voice cutting through the calm. âJust you and me.â
You study Minhoâs face, swallowing at the hope in his eyes. Itâs been three weeks since you clashed and youâve been working on easing out the many strains those past months have taken on your life. Sometimes, Minho seemed a little hesitant, not knowing if youâd let him in enough. âWhere would we go?â you ask, allowing a small smile to cover your lips.
âYou mentioned that art exhibit at the new gallery downtown a few days ago. I thought you might want to see?â he suggests gently.
You feel warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of him still remembering that. âThat sounds wonderful,â you say excitedly. âI would love to.â
âYeah?â He smiles so sweetly that you reach out for him. He leans into your touch as you caress his cheek and searches your eyes carefully.
âYes, darling,â you mirror his smile.
The two of you get ready in comfortable silence, side by side, occasionally sharing glances that hold soft smiles and unspoken words. As you step outside, hand in hand, the city greets you with the vibrant colors of an early evening. The sun, low in the sky, paints everything in hues of orange and gold.
The gallery is a modern space with stark white walls filled with vibrant art. You wander through the exhibits, Minhoâs presence a steady warmth at your side. Youâre busy looking at the different pieces, but his eyes canât stop finding you. Once more, he notices how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, and how safe you always make him feel. A small smile settles on his lips as he watches you, following you around the rooms willingly.Â
At one painting, a chaotic blend of dark and light, you pause longer than at the others. Minho beside you observes the play of emotions across your face. âWhat do you see?â he asks quietly, not asking about the painting but the meaning you give it.
Your eyes linger on the canvas, chewing your lip a little. âStruggle,â you say, your voice soft in the almost empty room. âBut thereâs beauty in it too. The colors clash, and still they harmonizeâŠitâs almost likeâŠ,â you pause, not quite sure if you should continue.
âItâs like us,â Minho finishes for you, his voice barely above a whisper. He turns to look at you, his gaze filled with understanding. âFinding our beauty in the struggle. Finding some light in the darkness.â
You meet his gaze, your heart aching at the truth of his words. You reach for his hand, fingers intertwining naturally as if they were made to fit together. âThank you for bringing me here,â you say, your voice thick with emotion.
Minhoâs thumb strokes your hand gently, and his eyes soften. âIâd go anywhere with you,â he replies.
You continue your walk through the gallery, and once you step outside, the sky has turned into a velvety blue, and and stars begin to peek out. You decide to take a little detour on your way back home, walking through the park. The city sounds soften in the background, replaced by the rustle of leaves and distant laughter.
The park is lit by scattered lamps, casting their golden lights on the winding path. You walk slowly, comfortable in the peace you feel with him. At a bench by the duck pond, you sit down with him, gazing at the water that glitters beneath the moonlight.
The air is cool by now, a gentle breeze teasing your skin, making you shiver. Minho notices almost immediately, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm hug. You lean against him, head resting against his shoulder, and sigh happily. âI missed you.â
âI missed you too,â Minho confesses, voice laced with a warmth that reminds you heâs your home. âI missed just being with you without having to try and function. Just..us.â
You turn to look at him, eyes finding his in the dim light. âWe donât always have to be strong, do we? We can just be us, flaws and all.â
âNo, we donât always have to be strong,â Minho agrees, his hand gently cupping your face. As long as weâre togetherâŠthatâs enough. Thatâs more than I couldâve ever asked for,â he whispers. Your lips meet in a gentle kiss before he squeezes your shoulder. âLetâs get back home, hm?â
The walk back is quiet but comfortable. As you reach the doorstep, Minho stops, turning to you with a serious expression on his face. âLetâs make a promise,â he says, eyes locking with yours. âNo matter what happens, we keep fighting together, we keep finding beauty in the chaos.â
You nod, face softening at the desperation in his eyes. âI promise.â
Minho leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss to seal your promise. Itâs soft and sweet and holds the promise and gentle words of today. âCome on, honey. Letâs see if Channieâs home yet,â he says, and you nod happily.
Inside, the house is quiet, making the atmosphere feel almost too serene. As you shed your coats and shoes, Minho calls out gently, not wanting to startle Chan, who might be home. There's no response, and he leads you through to the kitchen, where a note on the counter catches your eye.
"Out with Felix and Binnie. Don't wait up. - Chan" reads the neatly penned message, Minho's lips turning up in a small, knowing smile. "Guess it's just us tonight," he comments.
You nod, missing Chan but also relishing the quiet intimacy that the evening promises with just the two of you. "What do you feel like for dinner?" you ask, turning towards the fridge.
Minho shrugs, watching you with an affectionate gaze. "Anything's fine, as long as I'm with you," he replies, his tone soft.Â
Deciding on something light and easy, you opt to make a salad with all the fresh ingredients you have, adding grilled chicken for some warmth and substance. Minho sets the table, his movements relaxed, a playlist of soft music filling the background.
As you both sit down to eat, the conversation flows more freely than it has in weeks. Gradually, the dialogue drifts towards more personal topics, about how you've both been feeling and the little things you've missed about each other.
"It's been tough, hasn't it?" Minho says at one point, his fork paused halfway to his mouth. "But nights like this... they remind me why it's worth it. Why we're worth it."
You reach across the table, your hand covering his. "It has been tough. But I wouldn't want to face it with anyone but you," you admit, your voice thick with emotion.
After dinner, you clear the dishes together, a routine that feels comforting in its normalcy. Minho washes, you dry, and there's a gentle efficiency to your movements, a dance you've performed countless times before, each step familiar and reassuring.
With the kitchen tidied up, Minho suggests a walk outside. The night air is still warm enough to be inviting. "Let's just walk around the block, a little night stroll," he proposes, and you agree readily.
Outside, the neighborhood is quiet. Most of the houses are dimmed for the evening, and their inhabitants are likely winding down much like yourselves. You walk hand in hand, your steps unhurried, the silence between you comfortable and easy.
At one point, Minho stops, pulling you into a gentle embrace. "I love you," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know I don't say it enough, but I do. So very much."
"I love you too," you respond, leaning back to look into his eyes. âAnd you're right. Nights like tonight remind me of us, of what we have and what we're fighting for."
Returning home, you settle onto the sofa, Minho pulling a blanket over you both. You lean into him, your head on his shoulder, and he kisses the top of your head.
"Let's not wait so long to do this again," you suggest, your voice muffled against his shirt.
"Yeah," Minho says, his arm tightening around you.Â
As you nod in agreement, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, you realize that the struggles and the chaos of the past weeks have not been in vain. They've brought you to this moment, safe in Minhoâs arms.
-
Chan finds himself back earlier than he planned. After his evening out, he feels the pull of home - of you and Minho - stronger than the laughter and light of the city streets. As he approaches the house, his heart is a mix of nerves and hope. He unlocks the door quietly, half-expecting to find the house still echoing with the tension of previous weeks.
Instead, he steps into a soft-lit silence, low music playing in the living room where he finds you and Minho asleep on the sofa, intertwined under a shared blanket. The sight makes him stop in the doorway, a gentle smile spreading across his face as relief washes over him. Here, in this scene of peaceful slumber, he sees the healing that has begun between you. It almost feels as if youâve never struggled.
Chan sets down his keys quietly and walks over, his movements gentle to avoid waking you. The intimacy of the moment - the way Minho's arm encircles your waist, how your head rests against his chest - is so sweet. It reminds him of the depth of love and commitment that binds you together, a stark contrast to the coldness that had crept into your interactions lately.
Chan reaches down, tenderly brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch is feather-light, a silent vow to himself to mend the threads of your relationship that he's held too loosely. The small action makes you stir, and your eyes flutter open, meeting his in a sleepy state.
"Channie," you mumble, your voice thick with sleep. "You're back early."
He nods, his hand moving from your hair to gently squeeze your shoulder. "Couldn't stay away too long," he admits, his voice low and warm. "I missed home."
Minho stirs next to you, his eyes opening to Chan's familiar presence. "Hey," he greets, his voice rough with sleep "We were just waiting up for you," Minho teases lightly, though the crinkles by his eyes show his sincerity. He sits up, adjusting the blanket over you, ensuring you're still covered and warm.
Chan chuckles softly, the sound soothing the lingering edges of his earlier anxiety. "It looks like you did more sleeping than waiting," he observes gently.
"Join us," you say, patting the space beside you.Â
As Chan settles beside you, the weight of the past weeksâthe misunderstandings, fears, and painâseems to lift slightly. Together, you sit in the soft glow of the room, the silence comfortable, filled only with the soft sounds of your synchronized breathing.
As the evening deepens into night, you all decide it's time to move from the sofa to the bed. Hand in hand, you help each other tidy up the living space before heading to the bedroom.
You all get comfortable in bed, Chan, in the middle this time, turns to face each of you, his eyes holding a soft light. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "For this. For us."
Minho reaches to squeeze his hand. âWe love you, Channie.â
âI love you too,â he smiles happily.
-
Chan had suggested it: a quiet evening out, just the two of you. You agreed to the promise of a few hours solely with him, which sounded too good to pass. Chan suggested a small restaurant by the river, one that promised a breathtaking view.
Now that the evening is here, you feel nervous, a soft flutter in your stomach. It reminds you of the early days, the first few dates, and the awkward dance of not wanting to choose between Minho and him. You spend quite some time picking your outfit, wanting to feel beautiful and hoping to see the spark in Chanâs eyes you havenât seen in a while.
Chan is not one bit less nervous than you are, choosing a simple but elegant shirt he knows you like. When he sees you, ready and waiting, his breath catches in his throat. âYou look so beautiful,â he manages, his voice rough with emotion. The sincerity in his gaze and the slow smile covering his lips make your heart beat faster, and your eyes water a little.
âThank you,â you whisper. âYou look quite handsome yourself.â
âThanks,â he smiles shyly, blushing a little.
The drive to the restaurant is quiet, with music playing in the background. Chan parks near the river just as the sun is slowly dipping below the horizon, painting the water with a golden glow.
Hand in hand, you walk to the cozy restaurant, which has soft lighting and a gentle, nonintrusive conversation. You choose a table near a window with a view of the river, now shimmering under the first touches of twilight.
You two fall into easy conversation as you eat, yet beneath the lightness of their conversation, deeper topics linger at the edges, waiting. "Y/n," he begins, his voice serious but gentle. âI know things have been tough. I know I've been... distant. Not because I want to be, but because I've been scared - scared of doing the wrong thing, of saying the wrong thing."
"Chan, I understand. Iâve been feeling overwhelmed, too, scared of pushing you away or making things harder for you,â you admit gently.
âI never meant to feel like you couldnât come to meâŠor that Min is more important to me,â he tells you guiltily.Â
âI know,â you reply, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. âBut we're here now, and thatâs what matters. We can find our way back together.â
Chanâs smile returns, his eyes lighting up as if a weight has been lifted. âIâd like that. A lot.â
As dinner comes to an end, Chan suggests a walk along the river. The cool breeze from the water is refreshing, and the rhythmic sound of the waves against the shore is soothing.Â
âLook at the moon,â Chan points up, and you both stop to gaze at the full moon, casting a silver glow over the river. Itâs beautiful and peaceful, and for a moment, it feels like everything is right in the world.
âItâs gorgeous,â you comment, leaning into him.
Chan wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. âNot as gorgeous as you,â he says, which makes you both chuckle.
The moment feels right, and you stop walking and turn to face him. âChan, thank you for tonight. It means a lot to me. Iâve missed just being with you like this.â
He cups your face gently, his touch tender. âIâve missed it, tooâmore than I realized. Letâs not let it go again, okay?â
âOkay,â you agree, and he leans in to kiss you softly and sweetly under the moonlight by the river.
On the drive home, the car is filled with comfortable silence. A song that you both love comes on the radio, and Chan reaches over to turn it up. You smile and start to sing along quietly. He joins in, and soon, youâre both laughing and singing at the top of your lungs.
Chan parks the car in front of your house and turns to you with a giddy smile. You smile softly, leaning over to cup his face. âMy beautiful Channie angel,â you whisper, and he blushes a little. âI love you so much.â
âI love you too,â he smiles shyly. âMy sweet baby girl.â
Minho greets you with a gentle smile as you step inside. âHad fun, you two?â he asks gently, giggling surprised as you give him a long, soft kiss. âHey, darling,â he whispers adoringly.
âCome cuddle with us?â you plead softly, making him laugh.
âPlease?â Chan asks sweetly, kissing his cheek.
âFine, fine,â he laughs. âGo get ready for bed, Iâll be there in a bit,â he promises.
Not much later youâre all comfortable in bed. Youâre in the middle, feeling safe between them. To your left, Minhoâs warmth is a comforting pressure against your side, his arm thrown loosely over your waist. His fingers draw mindless patterns on the fabric of your nightshirt. Chanâs body is curved around yours protectively, his breath softly tickling your neck. Minho shifts a little, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His eyes meet Chanâs in a silent agreement of how much they love you.Â
âComfortable?â Minho asks softly, barely above a whisper, as if heâs scared of speaking too loudly.
âVery,â you nod, agreeing. You turn your head slightly to smile at him, reaching to touch his cheek. Chan responds by tightening his embrace around you, his hand splaying across your stomach, grounding you.
The room falls into a comfortable silence, the only sounds are the soft rustling of the sheets and the steady, rhythmic breathing of three hearts in sync. You find yourself tracing the lines of Chanâs hand after a while, feeling the strength and warmth of his fingers intertwined with yours. Minho, feeling a surge of affection, leans over to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead, then Chanâs jaw. Chan smiles at the gesture, a small, happy sound escaping his lips. It feels perfect.
PART EIGHT | PART TEN (coming soon)
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Always
Villain tried to shut the door, but Henchman was too fast, catching it by its edge before the gap could fully disappear.
âFound you," they said, half threat, half croon. They shoved into the house, knocking Villain back a few steps.
"What are you doing here?" Villain said, catching themself on the coatrack and nearly pulling it down on top of themself.
Henchman reached over Villain's head to steady it and then stayed there. Peeling back the nonchalance plastered over their shame. Taking in their altered form.
"Where have you been?" they countered, soft, knuckle raised gently against Villain's cheek before abruptly dropping again.
"Here. There. What does it matter? You found me." Villain ducked under their arm and hobbled slowly to the couch. Henchman's heavy step traveled in the opposite direction, followed by the click of the door closing, then the steps tramped back toward them. By the time Villain had plopped down on the couch cushion Henchman was kneeling in front of them. For an instant, it was like nothing had changed. Total fealty.
Villain stopped their hand short before they could touch Henchman's head. It felt wrong when they were so utterly weak. There had always been a balance, Henchman so physically intimidating, and Villain thrumming with destructive power. The upper hand, the reason for such devotion, had been crystal clear. Now, Villain could wither and scatter under Henchman's expectations.
"You completely disappeared." Henchman laid their head in Villain's lap anyway. "You were hurt and I got worried. But you didn't answer my calls. You didn't tell anyone where you were going. It's taken me 8 months to track you down. It's like you were trying to avoid me."
Villain sighed, dropping their rigidness and succumbing to the urge to stroke back Henchman's hair. It was just as soft as they remembered, thick and fluffy like an animal pelt. They twirled a piece above their ear, but avoided Henchman's watching eyes as they responded, "I was done for and everyone knew it. It was better to step down and disappear than wait for someone else to assassinate me."
Henchman reached up and took loose hold of Villain's wrist. Why was their gaze so earnest? Didn't they know? Didn't they feel the difference in them? Shouldn't that past awe and adoration be visibally dying at the sight of them?
"I would've protected you," Henchman said.
"I didn't want you to. I have too many enemies. You would have been hurt."
"Then you should've told me. I would've come with you."
"I didn't want that either."
Henchman flinched, and Villain was struck with a stab of guilt. That wasn't entirely true. Of course, Villain had wanted Henchman with them. Of course, it was agony knowing they couldn't even say goodbye. But anything but a clean break would have been worse. They couldn't just ask Henchman to give up their position, goals, and standing for life of nothing. No, more than that, they couldn't bear to see Henchman's devotion grow into disdain. The loss of their powers was the loss of their worth. Henchman would've clung to the threads of their memories but ultimately, Villain would have failed them.
Henchman dropped Villain's wrist but huddled in a little closer. "And...now that I'm here?"
Villain's heart panged. "You should go back."
Henchman hugged tight around Villain's legs, almost like a lifeline. "Why?"
Moment of truth. Time to make this permanent. âIâm not going back.â
âI know.â
âI canât. Iâm ruined. Those heroes took everything when they stripped me and left me for dead."
"I know."
"And even if I wasnât. I still wouldnât go back. I was getting tired. Losing focus. That's how they got me in the first place."
âI know.â
Why did they keep saying that? Obviously, they did not know if they could be so casual. This was the rest of their life!
âHenchman, I canât give you anything anymore. I don't have the influence or power to protect you. I can't bring about a bright new world. I'm spent. A pathetic shell. You should find another person to serve. I'll never be able to give you what you want."
Henchman turned their head up at them. "Why would I want any of that?"
Villain choked. "Don't you?"
"Maybe when I was a kid. Things change over a couple decades." They lifted their head and sank back on their heels. "Your powers were amazing. It's true that they drew me to you. But I never stuck around for that. Or for the status. You're just so..." Henchman broke off, face crinkling as they searched for the word. Finally, they shrugged. "I don't know; it's too big. You spent so long taking care of me. Looking out for me. Giving me chances I didn't think I deserved. Let me do the same for you." Henchman took their hand in both of theirs, hesitantly kissing one knuckle. "Just let me be with you."
Villain flushed a little. They'd always been close. Close enough for feelings. Close enough for both to recognize it in the other. But there had never seemed to be a right time to acknowledge them out loud.
"Do you really not want me here?" Henchman said at Villain's extended silence.
"You'd be ok with a normal life?" Villain pressed. "No powers, no schemes, no money, just me?"
"It's always been just you."
Villain slid off the couch and onto the floor in front of Henchman. "Of course, I want you here."
They couldn't keep their voice from cracking in the middle and the next thing they knew they were folded up in Henchman's arms. They melted immediately. All the shame, fear, and frustration seemed to fade right out of them.
"I love you."
Henchman jolted a little, but as they pressed their head to Villain's, Villain saw a smile tugging at their lips. "Good. Then I'll always, always stay."
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One Night in St. John's {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 15.3k
Warnings: Alcohol/drug use, infidelity, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk, regret, abusive relationships, emotional/physical abuse, isolation, baby trapping, domestic violence, threats of death, weapons, drugging, hostage situation, death by gun violence, PTS, shock, therapy, confessions, oral sex (male receiving)
Comments: Drunk and high, you and Frankie give into the desires you've kept hidden from one another. One night in St. John's, one brief moment in time in each other's arms. You go back to your lives, sure that it's causing Frankie to pull away from your team even more, but there's a more sinister and heartbreaking reason.
A/N: Domestic violence/abuse comes in all shapes, sizes and genders. If reading about an abusive relationship would be triggering, please do not read.
Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
Your nerves are shot, hands shaking, your entire body shaking as you sit under the hot water as the dirt and blood swirls down the drain. Youâre alive, although you could have been like Tom, wrapped up in a blanket and carried out from the mountains where he had been killed. You had carried his body, cried and grieved, now alone with your thoughts and they arenât exactly the happiest. Lonely and hurt, you try to ignore the baggie you had in your bag, now sitting on the table out in your room. Trying to resist snorting the fine white powder to manage the pain, to forget. Salty tears mix with the water as you cry in your first shower since you had tried to steal from Lorea and had ended up running for your lives.Â
Frankie sighs as he puts the phone down on the nightstand. Heâd just spoken to Darcy who let him speak to Ava. The ten month old has no idea what heâs saying but he had to speak to his daughter. He had to speak to her after nearly fucking dying, after Tom died. He rubs his eyes and runs his fingers through his damp hair, feeling antsy and like a caged lion. He needs to get out of this damn room. He gets dressed and makes his way down to the hotel bar, ordering a whiskey as soon as heâs sitting down and he groans at the first sip he takes.Â
âThis seat taken?â You ask him and he looks at you, âyou want a drink?â He asks and you nod so he gestures for the bartender to come over. You order your drink and turn to look at Frankie. Heâs so handsome, even with exhaustion seeping deep into his bones, he makes your heart flutter but he has a girlfriend, he has a daughter. When you get your drink, you hold it up towards Frankie, âto Redfly.â He nods, clinking his glass with yours. Tears sting in your eyes when you look in the mirror behind the bar to you and Frankie, the realization that you came so close to death still weighing heavy. âThat was a shit show, huh?â You joke softly, trying to conceal your watery eyes.
âYeah.â Frankie blows out a breath and sighs, shaking his head. He wants to cry but he doesnât feel like it will come out of him. Too used to repressing his feelings until he explodes. He feels it, itching under his skin, clawing to get out. âYou doing okay?â He asks gruffly, clearing his throat and motioning towards the bartender for another round.
You swallow down the lump in your throat and you shake your head. âI keep- all i can see when I close my eyes is Tom. Dead on that mountain. How it couldâve been all of us. Any of us. And Molly and the girlsâŠthey are going to be devastated. I feel so guilty. Like there was - we couldâve saved him.â You know thatâs not possible, Tom got himself killed but you feel guilty for your captain getting killed on your watch. The bartender sets another whiskey down for Frankie and you turn to look at him, âI canât - we nearly died.â
âWe didnât though.â Frankie insists, picking up his drink and nudging yours over in front of you. âFuck I wish this was something stronger.â He grunts as he tilts his head back and throws back the shot. Feeling the burn of the alcohol as it slides down his throat. His life is in shambles, no one knows how bad it is, not even Benny and for a moment, he wishes it had been him on that mountain.
You pick up your drink and down it, needing to feel numb like he wants to. âI haveâŠI have something stronger. In my room.â You confess, âitâs, uh, I picked it up when we were in the coke fields.â You confess, knowing you shouldnât have grabbed the packet but it was right there and you didnât know if you were going to live or die.
He had been tempted. Surrounded by all that cocaine, he had been sorely tempted to take some. To know you have some in your room makes his stomach twist and his craving get even stronger. âFuck.â He stands up and reaches into his pocket for some cash. âWhat the fuck are we waiting for?â He asks you. âI want to fucking forget the last week and a half.â
You nod, standing up and you grab your room key, quickly making your way up to the third floor and you open your door, hearing him close it behind him and you grab the baggie, working fast to cut lines on the desk in the corner. Frankie rolls up one of the hundred dollar bills from the bag you grabbed from Loreaâs and you use your hotel room key. âLadies first.â Frankie says, handing you the bill and you bend over, snorting the line and you shake your head at the rush you get immediately before you hand the bill to Frankie.
Anticipation curls in his stomach as he bends down. Blowing out a breath, he closes his mouth and snorts up the entire line quickly. Groaning and tossing his head back as the jolt to his system immediately slams into him and the euphoria washes over him. âShit, shit.â He huffs, leaning down and doing another line in his other nostril before gasping and handing the bill back to you. âItâs fuckinâ pure.â
âPurest shit Iâve ever done. I, uh, I havenât done this for years. Not since college.â You confess and bend over to do another line. The second hits you hard and you set the bill down as you wipe your nose, shifting to sit on the bed. âShit. I feelâŠpeaceful.â You sigh, your racing thoughts finally silent as you close your eyes, feeling the bed dip as Frankie sits down next to you.
âOnly goddamn time I have peace.â Frankie hums, feeling the lovely floating sensation start to drift over him as his mind goes fuzzy and the smell of your shower gel seeps into his nostrils. His cock twitches and he thinks about how fucking beautiful you are. âOnly time I get hard now too.â He blurts out, the intimacy in his relationship dead and buried, he had used to hide the fact that he couldnât get it up for her anymore, able to fuck while high had been a good thing for him.
You open your eyes and frown when you look at him, âDarcyâŠshe doesnât - wow.â You finish lamely and clear your throat. âSorry. That was-â He murmurs and you shake your head, reaching out to take his hand in yours. âItâs okay. Nothing leaves this room. Itâs just the two of us. Whatever we say or do doesnât leave here, okay?â You reassure him, wanting him to know he can trust you.
Itâs on the tip of his tongue to tell you. To lay out everything thatâs been happening and how miserable he is. Turning and looking into your concerned, beautiful eyes, heâs hypnotized by their color and depths. Not thinking about anything but you, he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours with a moan.
You respond, much to your shame, you respond and reach up to cup his cheeks. Your lips move against his and you pull back after a second. âFrank-â You murmur but he silences you with another kiss, not wanting to think about anything but you. You allow him to drag you down and you tangle your fingers in his hair as his tongue slides along your lips and your tongue meets his with a low groan.
He wants you, heâs always wanted you, but right now he feels like heâs going to die if he doesnât touch you. His cock is already hard, throbbing as your tongue slides against his and he flips you onto your back and straddles you, pushing against your belly with his straining bulge. âWant you.â He manages as he pulls away to start biting and kissing along your jaw. âSo fucking long. So beautiful.â
You canât resist, fuelled by booze and coke, you canât say no to the man youâve been in love with for years. You couldnât say anything when you served together and when you found out about Darcy and her being pregnant in the same sentence, you resigned yourself to being his friend. âMe too. Always wanted you. Fuck, Cat. I need you to - please. Fuck me.â You beg, reaching up to grab the back of his shirt, tugging on it and needing to feel his skin.
âFuck, youâre so soft.â He marvels, stroking your sides and kissing your neck. âHow are you so soft?â Heâs imagined this thousands of times, sometimes when his hand is wrapped around his cock and sometimes when he was fucking Darcy. Luckily he had never moaned your name. Frankie kisses down your chest and circles your nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth like a hungry baby.
You gasp and tangle your fingers in his hair, âFrankie.â You whimper when he bites down and he sucks where he bites. You wrap your leg around him and grind into him, pushing his bulge into your covered pussy and you moan in response.
He rocks his hips, shamelessly rutting into the hot core between your thighs. It feels better than he could have imagined and heâs not even inside you yet. He suckles until your nipple is swollen, moving over to the other breast and he knows he wants to bury his face in your cunt. âTake- take your fucking shorts off.â He growls, tongue dipping into your belly button as he moves lower.
Your heart beats out of your chest, already dripping with anticipation and you follow his growled demand without hesitation. You lift your hips as much as you can so you can take your shorts off after unbuttoning them and Frankie is impatient, reaching down to drag them off of your legs along with your panties, pushing your thighs apart when you are bare beneath him.
âFuck.â He groans, seeing your wet folds and reaching out to spread them wide to expose your clit. âIâm so fucking hungry.â He lunges forward to slide his tongue through your folds and around your clit, pressing his nose to your mound with the enthusiasm of a starving man.
"Fuck!" You yelp, surprised at the ferocious way he buries his face into your cunt and you swear you nearly cum then and there when you look down and see his eyes are already black, pupils blown wide from the coke, and hungry. You moan and tug on his hair, "fuck, Frank - shit." You pant, lifting your leg up onto his shoulder.
It just makes him push deeper, sliding his tongue down to push up inside you. Loving the way your soaked walls clench around his tongue. He wraps his arms around your other thigh and pushes it out, opening you up more to his mouth. He would swallow you whole if he could. Cock throbbing in his jeans, grinding into the bed beneath him and swearing he could stay right here all night feasting on you.
"Oh God!" You cry, your head pressing into the mattress and you can't believe how good he feels, how good his tongue feels. Better than you've ever imagined and you've imagined it a lot. For years, you've wanted Frankie and now that you finally got him, you are breathless. "Shit. So good, baby. God, you're so good." You pant, getting closer as his nose presses against your clit.
He loves praise, soaks it up and is desperate for more. He moans into your folds and curls his tongue up inside you. Your fingers in his hair are magical and he hates pulling away for a second but he wants to suck on your clit.
 Your stomach twists as you get closer to cumming and his lips suck harder on your clit. "Fi-fingers. Need your fingers, baby." You plead and moan when his thick digits push inside of you. "Yesss." You hiss, squeezing your eyes shut and it doesn't take long for you to fall over the edge with a moan of his name.
As hard as he is, he wants to see you cum again. Needs to see it, to feel it. Your cum floods his mouth and it's like ambrosia. Making him moan as he laps it up and pumps his fingers into your grasping walls. Enjoying the squelch of your wetness around his fingers.
"Shit." You hiss as you are pushed into overstimulation but he doesn't stop. You moan his name again, a desperate plea for what, you aren't sure. You don't want him to stop but it's so intense. "Oh fuck." You moan, thighs starting to shake as he curls his fingers inside of you.
âGive me another.â Frankie demands, pulling away so he can swallow and then sucking your clit back into his mouth. Itâs been so long since heâs wanted to pleasure someone heâs drunk on the sensation, greedy for more.
You gasp for air, every breath taken from you by his mouth and his fingers. "It's too much." You pant and Frankie growls, "another."Â
You can't deny him, pushing through the overstimulation and falling over the edge to another orgasm. "F-Fr-" You try to get his name out but all you can do is squeak.
Frankie groans, working his mouth even harder as he watches you. Your entire body arches up and he feels the spurt of precum soak his boxers. Finding it to be a gorgeous sight as you gasp and writhe for him.
You collapse against the bed, eyes still closed as you try to calm down after the best orgasms you've ever had. "I wanna see you." You tell him, shifting out from under him and kneeling on the bed. He follows your orders and lays down, working on unbuttoning his pants and you shove them down his legs after he kicks off his shoes. Throwing them to the floor, you focus back on Frankie and see the bulge in his boxers, the dark look in his eyes, and the way his chest heaves. You reach up to hook your fingers in his boxers, pulling them down, and you moan at the sight of his hard cock. "Fuck, you're thick." You murmur, spitting into your hand then you wrap your fingers around him, marveling at the feel of the silky hot skin.
âShit.â He hisses, rocking his hips up into your grip and groaning your name. Heâs imagined you touching him, never quite able to imagine it as good as this. âFuck, are you- what do you want?â He demands breathlessly. âI need you baby.â
âI want to - I want to ride you. I- I have an IUD. Please Frank. I need you inside of me.â You beg and he nods, leaning down to grab your arms so he can drag you up his body. You shuffle to straddle him, his cock between your folds as you grind down on him and the drugs combined with the high you get from Frankie has you feeling on top of the world.
âSo goddamn beautiful.â Frankie groans, tearing up to press his lips to your shoulder. He should be desperate to get inside you, but he loves how you are rolling your hips over his cock. Holding tight to your back as he pulls you down and kisses along your shoulder.
You moan, turning your head so you can press your lips to his, not wanting to waste a second of this night together. He isnât yours. Can never be yours. This is all youâll have. You reach between you, gripping his cock and you lift up to position him at your entrance, slowly sinking down onto him and you whimper against his chin at the stretch.
âHoly fuck.â He pants, cock twitching and itâs all he can do to keep from rocking up into you. Trying to give you time to adjust. The Coke and the feeling of you are nearly making him black out from pleasure. âSo good baby, fuck you are so tight and sweet.â
You exhale shakily, shifting to brace your hands on his chest as you take all of him. Your heart is pounding in your chest from the coke and the fact that itâs Frankie beneath you. âFeel so good, Frankie.â You whimper, caressing his chest as you give yourself a second before you start to move on top of him.
âSo good, baby.â He groans. âI canât believe that it feels so good. Move baby.â He begs you, fingers digging into your hips as he braces his feet in the bed.
You moan, nodding as you start to rock on top of him, lifting up until you can sink back down onto his cock. His thighs lift you so you can move forward and you grind onto his cock. âFuck.â You pant, jaw dropping at the angle.
âThat good, baby?â Frankie grunts. âYour little cunt is squeezing me.â His hands squeeze your hips, not slapping, he would never slap you. He groans when his words affect you and he squeezes your hips again. âYou like that, baby girl? You like me telling you how tight your pussy is on my cock?â
You nod, speechless from the dirty talk. His rough voice sends shivers down your spine, and you move a little faster on top of him. "Shit. Yes. I do. I love it. I wanna - wanna hear more, Francisco." You demand softly, leaning down to kiss along his jaw.
âFuck.â When Frankie is high, heâs more talkative, the thoughts inside his head just come pouring out of him easier than he would sober. âAlways wanted to fuck you. Imagined it, dreamed of it, jerked off to the thought of it.â He admits with a dirty grin. His hand slides up to your breast and he squeezes it, rolling your nipple between his fingers. âSo many nights. The entire time we served together, I wanted you.â
âOh God.â Your stomach clenches at his dirty confession and you pant against his collarbone, clenching around him. âMe too. Shit, so many nights spent wishing you were in my bed. You were inside of me. Always knew it would be amazing. And it is.â You reveal, rocking back onto him, âitâs so good.â
âSo good.â He groans in agreement. âYou- I -â he shakes his head. âFuck me.â He begs, knowing that he canât tell you that. Not with the way his life is. He canât drag you into his mess, not when he doesnât know how heâs getting out of it himself. Or if heâs getting out of it.
You reach for his hands, gripping them as you start to move faster on his cock. âFuck baby. Oh God.â You pant, tits bouncing as you work yourself towards your orgasm as your knees dig into the mattress.
âThatâs it baby, ride my cock.â Frankie groans. âAlways- fuck, youâre better than my fantasy.â He praises, watching you and completely enthralled with the sight.
The awed look he gives you sends you over the edge, his eyes glassy and mouth open as he looks at you like youâre a goddess. It makes you cum and you clamp down on his cock with a strangled choke of his name, falling forward until your forehead is pressed against his. Body shaking above him and he thrusts up into you to help you prolong your high.
Itâs the best sex heâs ever had, groaning your name as he watches you cum. Itâs a vision that he would love to have burned in his brain. Rocking his hips up frantically as he chases his own end.
You try to grind back onto him, wanting him to cum inside of you. âCum for me, Francisco. I want to feel you.â You beg, kissing along his neck, wanting to leave your mark but knowing you canât.
âFuck, fuck.â Frankie groans, unable to resist giving you what you want. Especially since itâs what he wants too. He thrusts up into you wildly, only making it another half dozen thrusts before heâs filling you, painting your walls with hot spurts of his cum.
You hum with satisfaction, shifting to press your lips to his. His tongue is harsh against yours as his hips slowly thrust into you as he rides his orgasm and you run your fingers through his hair as he fills you. After he stops, he rolls you onto your side and curls around you. You smile into his chest, closing your eyes as the high of the drugs and the sex courses through you. Thereâs so much you want to say but you canât. You just have tonight. Tomorrow, you deposit the money and Frankie goes home to his family.
Frankie hums, grateful when you donât want to talk. All he wants to do is hold you. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down on his chest as he closes his eyes. âWanna sleep here.â He mumbles quietly.
You hum back, placing your palm on his chest to feel his heartbeat, reassured that heâs safe and alive. You kiss his Adamâs apple, âsleep, sweetheart. Tomorrow is gonna be messy.â You murmur, closing your eyes as exhaustion overwhelms you along with the crash from your high.
****Â
When Frankie wakes up, the light is starting to filter through the curtains and heâs sober. Realizing that he hadnât been dreaming is both the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him. He canât believe that he got to touch you, although he feels bad because he cheated. He made you a cheater and that was worse. He shifts slowly, not wanting to wake you up until he is out of the bed. Grabbing his clothes and fleeing quietly.
When you wake up, the sheets beside you are cold and you squint, feeling that headache you get after drinking too much but now itâs a combination of booze and coke. You sit up and bite your lip after you shake off the haze of waking up. He left. You shouldnât be upset about that. He has a family. Shit, you - he cheated and you cheated with him. Shame burns inside of you. He has a baby with Darcy, he - he has a partner and you cheated with him. You feel dirty, shifting out of bed and you get into the shower, desperate to wash off his touch, hating that you can still feel his lips on your skin. The thing you wanted forever makes you sick with disgust at yourself. You stay under the water until it goes cold and reluctantly dress to meet the boys to deposit the money that will make you all for the rest of your lifeâs.Â
****Â
You watch Benny walk out of the room after giving his share to Redflyâs family and you know you have to do the same. Signing your name before you get up to follow the boys, your eyes meeting Frankieâs for a moment and he looks away. Your heart shatters but youâre reminded that you canât tell anyone about last night.
Frankie frowns as he stares at the contract in front of him. Itâs a lot of money. Money that he could use to leave Darcy. Get his pilotâs license back and leave the horrible relationship heâs in. Get custody of the baby, hopefully. Or at least not get fucked with visitation. Itâs hard to not think about this, even though he knows that he should give the money to Redflyâs family. The man died. His kids deserve that money. Still he stares at the contract for far longer than he should before he crumples up the paper and signs the document to give the money away. Sadness and despair overwhelming him, even as he slaps Pope on the shoulder and ambles out of the room like the weight of the world isnât on his shoulders.
You watch Frankie as you stand in the middle of the street, passers-by pushing past but you stare at Frankie, knowing this is it. He will go back to Darcy and who knows when youâll talk to him next. He keeps to himself nowadays and even Santi has trouble trying to get hold of him. âYouâll need these.â Santi says as he hands everyone back their passports. âI guess Iâll see you all next at the funeral?â Will says and you nod, knowing Frankie canât avoid that. âSee you soon.â Will steps forward to hug you, kissing your cheek and Benny then Santi does the same. Next is Frankie and you struggle to maintain your composure as you hug him tight.
Frankie tries to hug you as quickly as possible but he canât help but linger for just a moment. Clinging to you for a second as the dreams of the future, a future with you, slip away. âWell, I gotta get home.â He tells the group, not looking any of you in the eye. He nods and turns around to disappear into the crowd.
**** ]
Itâs hard seeing Frankie again, all of you in dress uniform and you see Darcy holding Ava as she sits in a pew behind Molly and the girls. Itâs hard to be around Frankie because heâs not even texted you since youâve been back. Not that you expected anything of him when you got home but a check in wouldâve been nice. Youâve texted him, asking him how heâs doing and youâve been left on read. Your heart aches for Frankie but today, it grieves for Tom, your leader, and you focus on him instead of the man you yearn for.
Frankie doesnât even dare look at all of you, knowing how pissed Darcy is that he didnât come home with the money he had promised her when he had left. He knows she blames all of you for the fuck up in South America and why she cannot have a life of luxury. Instead, he focuses on the funeral, his part in the honor guard so he can finish up and leave. Darcy doesnât want to stay past the burial.
When the service is over, everyone is heading to Mollyâs house for the wake and you are confused when you arrive there after stopping for gas and donât see Frankie or Darcy. âWhere did Frankie go?â You ask Santi who sighs.Â
âDarcy wanted to take Ava home and Frankie had to go too.â He explains and you frown, knowing itâs not like Frankie to leave early, especially when today is about Tom.Â
****Â
âI still canât believe you gave the money away.â Darcy shakes her head after putting Ava down for her nap. âYouâre a fucking spineless bastard.â Darcy hisses at Frankie who stands there with his arms crossed, shoulders hunched. âYou shouldâve been selfish. For Ava. For me. I already bought a Louis Vuitton purse for my birthday because you promised youâd get me something to make up for being such a failure and getting suspended at work. I gotta take it back. You know how embarrassing thatâs gonna be for me, baby?â
âIâm sorry, baby.â The apology is automatic, his heart starting to race as his pulse jumps up. âIâll- Iâll pick up more hours.â Heâs got part time work thatâs been able to sustain them with his retirement and disability. âYou donât have to take it back, baby. You keep it.â
Darcy shakes her head, âno. Iâll take it back. I donât need you telling me that we need to be budgeting the groceries. Honestly, youâre pathetic. Leaving your family for two weeks and you didnât bring back anything to show for it.â Darcy scoffs and Frankie frowns, âI got seventeen grand.â Darcy snorts, âyeah? And whereâs that gone? On trying to fight your suspension. When we met, I thought you were capable of looking after me. I thought you were gonna take care of me and our daughter but youâre a failure. How are you gonna make this up to me?â
Frankie swallows, hating how she continuously pokes and pushes him, grinding him into the dirt with her venom. âHowever you want me too, baby.â He placates, moving towards her automatically to wrap his arms around her. If she pushes him away, he knows he needs to just be quiet and let her vent her disappointment. But she would also accuse him of not caring if he didnât make a move to comfort her, so he was picking one and seeing if it was the right move today.
Darcy lets him wrap his arms around her and she slides her hands down his back and under his uniform to pinch his side, making Frankie wince. âI donât need your fucking comfort, Frank. I need you to do your job to provide for this family.â She hisses and pushes him away, âmy parents told me to not have the baby. Didnât think you were good enough for me and you know what? They were right.â She shakes her head and turns towards the counter to make herself a cup of coffee.
Frankie sighs, although he makes sure that she doesnât hear it. That would cause another fight. âIâm sorry.â He murmurs. âIâll make it up to you.â He promises. âIâll get my license back and then we wonât have to worry about anything.â
Darcy snorts again, âyou better otherwise me and Ava will be gone. Iâll move in with my parents.â She threatens and pours her coffee. After a few moments, she says your name, âdid you see her? She looks like sheâs put on weight. I donât think anyone was fooled that her uniform still fits properly. It looked like she was about to burst out of it. No wonder she doesnât have a boyfriend. No one's gonna wanna date the Pillsbury dough boy.â
Frankie frowns, looking at her back and wondering if sheâs serious. His friend and teammate died and sheâs commenting about your looks? You donât look any different than the day you left the Army. âHer uniform was fine.â He tells her. âNothing was ill fitting, she could pass inspection today.â He knows you havenât gained any weight, but he canât say that. The image of you riding him is a secret memory, one that he will think of often.
Darcy turns, staring at her partner, âreally? She could pass inspection?â She mocks his words, âall the others were thinking it. Sheâs a fatso, Frank. And she shouldnât have gone with you all to South America. Trying to run with the boys. I bet thatâs why Tom got killed, because you were all running around trying to protect her. Sheâs useless. She is a military groupie gone too far and she thinks sheâs capable but she put you all in danger.â Darcy gives her opinion without any remorse, speaking her mind as she always does and she turns back to pour creamer in her coffee.
âShe didnât do that.â Frankie snorts, shaking his head. âYou need to stop fucking talking about her like that. Sheâs got just as many medals for courage and valor as Ben, sheâs not a military groupie, sheâs a veteran and deserves respect.â He snaps, pissed off that she constantly belittles your accomplishments.
Darcy moves so fast he doesnât even register that sheâs slapped him until he sees her hand lowering from his face. The sting comes a few seconds later and he realizes he went too far in his defense of you. âDonât you ever - ever - defend that fucking bitch in my house, okay? She has always pined after you and you disrespect me by giving her compliments? No, Frank. No. You fucking apologize right now to me.â She demands, crossing her arms.
His eyes are wide, unable to believe that she just hit him. Sheâs shoved him, slapped at his chest but sheâs never hit him in the face. âNo.â He shakes his head. âIâm not apologizing for her being a veteran.â He tells her, his stomach churning and twisting in anxious nausea. Fearful of what she might do again, but still not ready to talk bad about you. Youâve never done anything wrong to her, until this trip, but Darcy doesnât know that.
Darcy doesnât hesitate, turning back to her coffee and she grabs the spoon she has in the mug, turning back to Frankie and pressing the spoon to his neck. He winces but she grabs the back of his neck to keep it pressed to his skin. âApologize. To. Me.â She demands, pressing the spoon harder into his neck.
Frankie hisses, the hot spoon burning his skin but he almost doesnât apologize. Deciding that heâs had enough of her shit until he hears Ava start to cry, obviously not wanting to go down for her nap. With the mood sheâs in, Darcy would take it out on his daughter and he canât have that. âIâm sorry.â He chokes out. âIâm sorry, baby, I- I donât know what I was thinking.â He tells her breathlessly. âThe funeral, losing Tom, itâs fucking with me. Iâm not thinking straight.â
Darcy pulls the spoon away from his neck, setting it down and reaching up to cup his cheek. "It's okay, baby. I know it's been stressful. For me, too. I love you. You know that, right?" She coos, leaning in to kiss the burn she left on his skin.
Frankie shudders but he makes himself wrap his arms around her again and snuggle into her. âI know. Youâre the only one who could put up with me.â Itâs a statement that sheâs said over and over again and he is starting to believe it.
âThatâs damn right.â She chuckles, âI better go check on Ava.â Darcy says, leaning back with a smile at her partner and she walks out of the kitchen to check on the crying baby. Frankie exhales shakily, leaning against the kitchen counter. He has faced combat in the most dangerous areas in the world, nearly died from bullets flying past him, and flown a helicopter under high stress but Darcy seems to crumble his strength. Her power over him stems from keeping Ava safe and his morality. He would never hit a woman so he takes what she does to him. He doesnât want to fight. Heâs so tired of fighting.Â
****Â
Itâs been weeks since you heard from Frankie and the guilt is eroding your insides. Itâs haunting you and you donât know how to handle it. Youâve never been a cheater and not hearing from Frankie has you worried that youâve ruined your friendship. You decide to send him a text, saying hi and asking how he is.
Frankieâs phone is constantly being checked by Darcy since his outburst. Nearly every night and he has even stopped talking to Ben as much as he used to. Not wanting to rehash every comment he made to his buddy or what his mentality was. When he gets the text from you, he panics and nearly deletes it, but then it would cause a complete shitstorm. Instead he doesnât even open his messages and waits for Darcy to look through it.
âWhy is she texting you?â Darcy asks, pausing the tv and grabbing Frankieâs phone. âShe is asking how you are. Why would she ask that? Have you been talking to her behind my back? Have you - explain this, Frank. Now.â She says, shoving the phone towards him.
âWhat? No! No, I havenât been talking to her!â Frankie defends. âI- sheâs probably checking in with everyone. Tom died, Darc. It - itâs heavy shit. We all blame ourselves.â He quickly rationalizes. âIâm not talking to her, you told me not to and Iâm - baby, Iâm not going to jeopardize my relationship with you.â He tells her, reaching out to rub her arm.
Darcy shrugs off his touch, âdonât fucking lie to me!â She shouts, despite Ava being asleep. âSheâs a whore. Trying to take you away from me. I see the way she looks at you. She wants to tear our family apart and you are letting her do it. You never touch me. We donât have sex. Itâs her, isnât it?â Darcy cries, starting to sob.
âNo, no baby.â Frankie shakes his head and wonders if she suspects something. Guilt and worry curling in his stomach. âNo, you told me that I was treating you like my sex toy, I - I didnât want you to think thatâs all I wanted from you.â It was ironic when he used to want sex that she would complain, now he doesnât even ask and she complains. âOnly you, baby.â
Darcy sniffs, wiping her eyes, âyeah?â She asks and Frankie nods. âGood. I Donât want you talking to her.â She narrows her watery eyes and shifts to sit beside him once more. She grips his chin and leans in to press her lips to his. âYouâre mine. Donât forget that.â
âI wonât.â He canât. She reminds him everyday and for the hundredth time since he came back, he wishes he had been the one killed. If it werenât for Ava, he would have left her, long ago. But he knows she will never let him see his daughter again. âI wonât talk to her.â He promises quietly, mourning the loss of all of his friends since he has been with her. He will end up completely alone.
âGood.â She kisses him again, letting go of his chin and she settles in to watch the tv again. âYouâre so good to me, baby.â She coos, sliding her hand down his chest to play with the buttons of his shirt, âmakes me wet when you do what I want.â
Shit. He knows she wants sex now, especially since sheâs brought it up.Â
âYeah?â Frankie grunts, capturing her hand and sliding it down and onto his thigh. âLet me go pee, baby.â He asks her. âThat way we donât have to worry about anything when I take you to bed.â
Darcy nods, biting her lip as she smirks and watches him go into the bathroom. Frankie locks the door behind him and braces his hands on the sink, looking into the mirror. He doesnât want to have sex with her but he has no choice. If he doesnât, she will hurt him again, either emotionally or physically and his biggest fear is her hurting Ava. He will take every slap and pinch she gives him if his daughter is safe.Â
He finds the baggie he has hidden under the towels and in the linen closet. Working fast, he puts some onto the back of his hand and snorts it, wiping his nose. Itâs enough to numb him to do what he needs to do, his thoughts drifting to you and how you looked riding him. He sniffs and hides the baggie again, splashing water on his face before he heads into the bedroom to do what he needs to do.Â
****Â
âIs Frankie coming?â You ask Santi who glances at his watch.Â
âHe didnât respond.â He says and you frown. No one has heard from or seen Frankie for weeks since you returned from South America and you donât want to see him. Heâs ignored you since you parted ways and youâre hurt. You thought your friendship would survive but he refuses to even text you back.
Frankie had barely been able to convince Darcy that if he didnât show up to Bennyâs fight that it would look strange. He had promised her he would just go to the fight, immediately coming home and he would have one beer. Nothing more. And he wouldnât talk to you. Frankie shakes his arms and then wipes his hands on his jeans as he walks in, nervous about seeing everyone. The bruises on his sides twinge, reminding him of the promise he had made to behave.
Your eyes widen when you see Frankie sit down, shocked that he made it when Pope didn't think he would. His eyes meet yours after he greets everyone with a nod and you offer him a small smile that he returns until it drops, his eyes widening slightly before he turns his head away from you. Your heart twists with that and you wonder why he's actively avoiding you. He clearly regrets that night and now, so do you. Frankie's phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket to see a text from Darcy. âRemember, one drink baby. Don't talk to her. Don't linger. I want you home as soon as it ends otherwise I won't be happy. Love you.â
Frankie swallows harshly and stows his phone, leaning over to Pope. âGotta leave after the fight.â He yells over the crowd. âBabyâs not feeling good.â He lies, knowing no one would blame him for that. The fact that you lean in and heâs close to touching you makes him jerk back and sit straight, sure that Darcy would catch your perfume if he touched you, even innocently.
Darcy texts Frankie several more times throughout the fight, even asking him to take a photo of it to prove where he is. It's strange because she never accused him of cheating until he came back from South America. Maybe something changed, maybe he changed. He doesn't know but he concentrates on Benny and cheers him when he wins. "I gotta go. Tell Benny congrats." Frankie says as he slaps Santi on the shoulder and he looks at you with those beautiful brown eyes. "See you later." He offers you a small smile then rushes off before the crowds try to leave and you frown, turning back to Pope.
 "Something isn't right with him." You assess and Santi nods, squeezing your shoulder until you focus on Benny as he approaches with blood smeared on his face from a broken nose but a wide grin from his win.
âWhereâs Fish going?â He had seen his friend in the crowd as he was in the ring. He frowns slightly when he realizes that Frankie isnât just going to the beer stand for another brew.Â
âHe had to go, the baby isnât feeling good.â Pope tells him with a frown. âHe told me to tell you congrats on your win.âÂ
Benny huffs and takes the towel that Will tosses him to wipe his face. âSomethingâs wrong with him. Heâs not answering my texts, like- at all.â
âHave you spoken to him?â Will asks you, knowing you and Frankie have always been especially close.Â
You shake your head, âIâve texted him but I get left on read. I donât know whatâs going on. I- I am worried about him.â You confess and the boys nod.Â
****Â
âWhat took you so long?â Darcy asks as she stands in the hallway.Â
Frankie barely gets a chance to shrug off his jacket before sheâs on him. âI hit all red lights, baby.â He explains and Darcy shakes her head.Â
âIt was her. Wasnât it?â She accuses, âyou fuck her in the bathroom? Mind you, you wouldnât be that late coming home. Youâve never had the stamina, have you?â She laughs cruelly.
Frankieâs shoulders slump but he doesnât rise to the bait, knowing it would just start a vicious fight. âNo babe, I left as soon as the fight was over. I just got caught up at the lights.â He knows that heâs going to get slapped again. Since the other day, sheâs slapped him on the cheek whenever she gets mad. Making him feel even more ashamed every time he thinks of hitting her back. Becoming the monster heâs always been afraid that he is.
âDonât fucking lie to me.â She surges forward to slap him and grips his chin, leaning in. âYou even smell like cheap perfume. I canât believe you.â She lowers her hand, âI give you everything. Sacrifice my body to give you a child. Give you a home to return to and you want to throw it all away for some whore who could never love you like I can.â
âI swear to you, Darcy.â Frankie whines, nearly flinching when she moves again. âI didnât do anything, I sat by Pope. Maybe heâs seeing a new girl, I donât know. I came straight home.â
Darcy stares at him, her eyes narrowed. âYouâre sleeping on the couch tonight.â She says and spins on her heels, making her way back into the bedroom and she shuts the door, effectively locking him out of his room. Frankie looks down at his hands, shaking from both anxiety and anger. He hates Darcy but he canât leave, his daughter isnât safe around her. The other day Frankie found Ava gripping a knife and Darcy laughed and said it was nothing, she wants her to learn how to use utensils to be a proper lady. He strips down to his boxers and lays on the sofa, wishing he could escape this situation and keep his daughter safe but no one would believe him.Â
****Â
Itâs been a few days since Bennyâs fight and the guilt of sleeping with Frankie is becoming too much. Darcy posted some photos of Ava and Frankie on her Facebook page with them out for brunch - her new designer bag on display - and you felt the heavy pit of guilt in your belly. You have to tell her and youâll tell her itâs all your fault. Frankie will be at work so you make your way over to his house, ringing the doorbell and shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other as you wait for Darcy to answer the door.
Darcy huffs, pushing herself off the couch with an annoyed grunt. âHold on!â She grumbles as she walks over to the front door and opens it. Annoyed and immediately glaring when she sees you at the door. âWhat the fuck do you want?â She hisses. âFrankie doesnât want to talk to your pathetic ass, so do us both a favor and fucking leave him alone, okay?â
Your eyes widen and you know she has never liked you but her attitude takes you back. âI, uh, I know you donât want to talk to me but I need to tell you something. Please. I, uh, I need to get it off of my chest.â You tell her and she crosses her arms, scoffing but allowing you to continue. âI slept with Frankie. In St Johns. We, uh, we were high and had a few drinks so we werenât thinking straight and Iâm so sorry Darcy. I wanted to tell you because you deserve to know and I canât keep this secret any longer. I canât sleep, I canât eat.â You admit and she chuckles, âevery cloud.â Her comment makes you frown and you are confused, âyou arenât mad?â
Darcy snorts and shakes her head, âI knew that Frankie fucked you.â She lies with a nasty smirk on her face. âA pity fuck, thatâs what he called it when he told me about it.â She shrugs slightly. âYou know men, if a whore is gonna throw it at them, theyâll take it. Thank God you didnât give him something, but he much prefers my pussy over yours. Said he canât even look at you now, so disgusted with the thought of you naked.â She chuckles evilly again. âMight want to lose a few pounds.â
You feel your eyes sting and your stomach twist. Hearing what Frankie said about you makes you feel sick. Darcy could be making it up but why would she lie? She knows about what happened.Â
âHe said you were the worst sex heâs ever had. It was the adrenaline from surviving, he told me. He hasnât talked to you because he didnât want to embarrass you. You need to go. Heâs my boyfriend. The father of my child. Heâs mine. He belongs to me.â She says and you swallow down the lump in your throat, uneasy with her words but sheâs not wrong.Â
âYeah. Uh, I- Iâll go. I wanted to tell you because I thought you deserved to know and, um, yeah. Bye.â You choke and she waves at you as you make your way down the driveway to your car. Pulling away from the curb, tears streaming down your cheeks and you curse that night, you curse Frankie Morales. Your heart breaks and you need to take some time to get over that asshole. Heâs with Darcy and he loves her.Â
****Â
âBaby, Iâm home.â Frankie calls out and comes in to find Darcy sitting on the sofa, âcome here baby.â She coos and he sets his stuff down before sitting on the sofa next to her. She leans in to kiss him and Frankie nearly flinches. âI missed you today.â She coos, caressing his cheek.Â
âI missed you too.â He lies, âwhereâs Ava?â He asks and Darcy explains that she is at her parentsâ house.Â
âI wanted a romantic night in with you.â She says and Frankie feels repulsed but what can he do? âSoâŠâ Darcy trails off and grips his chin, âwhen were you gonna tell me you fucked the whore in St Johnâs?â She asks him, her eyes hardening.
âWhat?â Frankie shakes his head, immediately denying it. Sheâs been accusing him of cheating since he got back from South America. âBaby, why do you keep saying that?â He demands, making her squeeze his cheeks even harder. âThe whore told me herself, Frank.â She spits, the spittle flying into his face and making him cringe. His heart sinks but Darcy keeps talking. âBitch came to my house, wanted to âconfessâ because she felt so guilty. She should, spreading her legs for you when she knows you have me, have Ava.â Frankie starts to shake, knowing that Darcy will punish him, badly, for you showing up and telling her what happened.
âYou lied to me, Frank. Over and over. Iâve done so much for you. Sacrificed so much for you and this is how you repay me? By fucking the woman youâve been in love with for years?â She hisses and Frankie shakes his head. âNo use denying it. I know you love her. Iâve seen the way you look at her. Youâve never looked at me like that. I knew you would leave me for her so I decided to take action. Poked holes in the condoms we used until I got pregnant. Wanted to make sure you were mine.â
Frankie gasps, nearly choking on his own breath at the knowledge that she had baby trapped him. âYou-â He growls, his head snapping to the side when she slaps him.Â
âDonât you fucking say a word, you cheating bastard!â She screams, her voice breaking because of how high it gets. âYou humiliated me! All your bastard friends know, laughing at how you banged your whore.â This time, her fist is closed when she hits him, punching him in the jaw and Frankie grabs her hand.Â
âStop fucking hitting me!â He shouts.
She screams, wrenching her hand away and she stands up. âThatâs it. I donât know if this shit will happen again. It canât happen again. Iâm gonna invite her over here. Gimme your phone.â She orders and he shakes his head. She sees his phone on the kitchen counter, rushing over to pick it up and Frankie tries to follow her but sheâs quick to grab a knife from the counter, aiming it at him and he knows he could take her down but not without hurting her.
âDarcy!â He barks, jumping out of the way of the knife and back several steps. âAre you fucking crazy?â He asks, watching the knife carefully as she spins around again and looks like she wants to murder him. âPut the knife down.â
She shakes her head and grabs his phone, texting with one hand to bring up your name and text an invite over to the house, she hits send and tosses the phone across the counter. "She'll come. I know she will. Fucking pathetic bitch can't leave you alone." She scoffs, waving the knife again. "And you're gonna let me talk to her." She laughs manically, setting the knife down and opening the drawer. Before she had Ava, Darcy was a nurse so it wasn't hard for her to procure what she needed. She grabs the syringe as Frankie approaches to try and get the knife away from her and she is quick to stick the needle in him, pressing down on the needle to push the sedative into Frankie's bloodstream. She wants him to watch you suffer but she knows he won't allow it so she needs him to be restrained.
****
Being drugged is nothing like getting high. Frankie groans, head pounding and his mouth feels dry. Trying to move his arms, he canât and he tries harder, feeling the resistance that forces his eyes open.
âYouâre awake. Good. Sheâs on her way.â Darcy reveals and Frankie shakes his head, trying to speak but heâs still lethargic. âDonât worry, baby. Iâm gonna take care of this. Youâll never truly love me until sheâs out of the way. Iâm gonna do what needs to be done.â She promises and picks up the gun she had taken from Frankieâs gun safe. She knows the password is Avaâs birthday so she was able to get into it.
âD-Dar-â Frankieâs tongue is heavy and his mind is so jumbled from the drugs she had pumped into his system. He doesnât want this, horrified that you might be killed because of his mistakes. He shakes his head again, trying desperately to think of a way out of this. His hands are bound, heâs zip tied to a kitchen chair. âD-donât.â He croaks out.
You frown when you receive the text. Confused about Frankieâs invite to his house and the wording isnât like the man youâve known for years. You know something is wrong and you want to find out. Especially since Darcy had told you what Frankie had said. You get into your car and make your way over to Frankieâs house. Parking down the street, you sneak around the house and your eyes widen when you look into the house and see Frankie tied to a chair, and Darcy walking around with a gun in her hand. âShit.â You curse, knowing you have to protect him and yourself and especially Ava. You step back from the house and call the police, explaining the situation, and after you hang up, you exhale shakily, anxious to keep Frankie safe.
âDarcy, think of Ava.â Frankie begs, the drugs wearing off and he is panicked. âYou wonât get away with it. Youâll be in jail.â While he would love to be away from her, he is trying to keep her from killing you. âWeâll move.â He promises. âSell the house and move across the country. Away from everything and start fresh.â
Darcy scoffs, "I will get away with it because you're going to help me deal with her after. Even if we moved across the world, she'd still be in your fucking mind. You won't forget about her. You'll still be tempted and I won't allow it. I can't. You're mine. You belong to me." She growls, fingers adjusting around the gun.Â
Outside, the police arrive quietly, pulling up in their SUVs and you meet them to explain what's going on. "I think she's going to kill him. I think she's gonna try to kill me." You explain and the police officers nod, speaking into their radios.
Inside, Frankie is still trying to convince Darcy. âBaby, no. It was a mistake.â He lies, knowing that his time with you was the best heâs ever had. âI had done some Coke, just to- just to forget the image of Tomâs brains splattered on the fucking rocks.â He tells her. âI didnât realize what I was doing and then I left, I didnât talk to her. I havenât had anything to do with her.â
Darcy shakes her head and aims the gun at him, her anger getting the best of her, âyouâre a fucking liar. I know you love her. I know you love her more than me and if she was gone, you could love me like that. I want you to love me like that. Donât lie to me. I know you want her. Have always wanted her.â Darcy shouts, just as the front door flings off of its hinges and the officers yell at Darcy to drop the weapon and get down on the ground.
Frankie shouts, begging her to put the gun down. Knowing they will kill her if she so much as twitches wrong. Not wanting Ava to deal with the fact that her mother was killed when sheâs older. Darcy screams, incoherently and spins around on Frankie. âYou bastard! You called them!â Despite the fact that there was no way he could have called the police. He had been tied up.Â
âDarcy, no!â The shots echo in the house, deafening him and he squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the pain to start where she shot him.
The bullet flew into the kitchen cabinet behind him and the other shots were the police taking down Darcy. Yelling fills the house as the officers rush forward, kicking the gun out of Darcyâs hand and checking her pulse. âWe need an EMT. Now.â He says and speaks into his walkie.Â
âIs she dead?â Frankie gasps as the officer comes towards him, pats him down before he lets him go.Â
âYes sir. She was a threat and she had a weapon.â He says and Frankie exhales shakily.Â
âFrankie! Frankie!â You shout, pushing into the house despite the officers telling you to stay put. You run over to Frankie, cupping his cheeks, âare you okay?â
âI- no,â Frankie pants, staring at Darcyâs crumpled body and closes his eyes. âShe was gonna- she was gonna kill you.â He manages before he lowers his head and tries to keep from sobbing, relieved that you are here and safe.
Your eyes widen, âkill me? Because we - oh God.â You choke, putting it all together when she had Frankie tied up and the gun in her hand. âShit. She wanted to kill me.â You whisper and the police officers come over to escort you and Frankie outside and they take Frankie aside to take his statement but he wants you to stay with him. Reluctant to have you out of his sight, you stand beside him as he starts to give his statement.
Frankie starts to tell them everything. The abuse, the escalating violence. He pulls up his shirt to expose the bruises. How erratic Darcy had been acting, although he doesnât mention the trip to South America, just that things had gotten worse since he had come back from out of town. He hates it, feeling humiliated as the police look at him first with disbelief and then pity as he continues to tell them about being abused by his girlfriend. He canât look at you right now, afraid you would be disgusted with him for not manning up like Darcy always told him to do.
You feel sick. Hearing what Darcy did to Frankie has you wanting to scream and cry and make the world burn. You want to go and get a gun and kill Darcy again, just for the satisfaction of seeing her suffer. Tears sting in your eyes and the officer takes his statement and tells Frankie he canât stay in the house so you wipe your cheeks and say that Frankie can stay with you. You turn to look at him, hands reaching out but pulling back in case he doesnât want to be touched. âFrankie. I- Iâm so sorry. I- I shouldâve known. I shouldâve helped you. I - shit. You - the ways sheâs hurt you.â You choke, wishing you could go back in time and keep him safe from Darcy.
âNo.â Frankie shakes his head. âShe- she would have hurt Ava.â He tells you breathlessly, trying to keep his emotions bottled up. âThey- they never would have given me custody. I would- I had to protect her. If she was hitting me, she wasnât hitting our little girl.â
You can tell Frankie is on the edge and you want him to be safe before the emotions hit him finally. âCome on, letâs go back to my place. Whereâs Ava?â You ask with wide eyes, worried that the little girl is in the house still.Â
âSheâs at Darcyâs parents house. They - oh God. I gotta tell them - Darcy is dead.â He says with a whisper and he hates the fact that heâs happy about that for himself but not for Ava. âSheâs safe for tonight. Youâre in no state to be around her. Come to mine and you need to sleep.â You say, grabbing your keys from your pocket and guiding him up the street while the police handle his house.
âI donât- I tried.â Frankie rambles as you steer him towards your car and open the door for him. âI stopped talking to everyone, stopped doing anything that would set her off.â He doesnât understand why she hated him so much. Was he just that horrible? âNothing- I failed at everything. I was- wasnât good enough.â
âFrankie.â You shake your head as he gets into the car, âthis isnât your fault. Darcy was an abuser. You arenât to blame for how she treated you. You are a good man. She - she was wrong. She abused you.â You whisper, a tear escaping your eye as you look at his distraught face.
âPoor Ava.â He bites his lip and closes his eyes tight, trying not to cry. âShe- sheâs gonna grow up with me and Iâm gonna fuck her up. I - she always told me I was useless.â
You kneel down beside the car, âcan I touch you?â You ask, wanting to hold his hand and he nods. âFrancisco. You are the best father. Youâre a good man. Youâre not going to fuck Ava up. Darcy would have. She wouldâve manipulated her like she did you. You are going to get through this. Itâs gonna take a while but youâll be strong for Ava. You can do this. I promise you.â You squeeze his hand, hating how broken he looks.
âAre you sure?â Frankie asks quietly, clinging to your hand. âI- I have to admit something.â He tells you. âI had been thinking that I should have been the one to die on that mountain. That way it would be over for me.â He sees the horror on your face. âBut you- that night- itâs how Iâve been keeping sane lately. Remembering you, that night.â
You want to sob then and there, hearing that Frankie wanted to die because of Darcy. It makes you even angrier but you control yourself and place your hand over his holding yours. âDarcy has hurt you and you need to heal from that. Ava loves you. The boys love you. I love you. Youâre so loved and we need you, Frankie. Sheâs gone and youâre still here. It will take time but youâll be what Ava needs.â You assure him.
âHow could I let it happen?â He asks seriously. âIâve fucking killed people, and my girlfriend was abusing me?â He sounds bewildered because he is unable to rationalize that in his mind. âI donât- I didnât stop it, I just- I guess I am less of a man.â
You shake your head, âyou didnât stop it because of Ava. Because you are a good man and you didnât want to hurt Darcy even though she was hurting you. Youâre not less of a man. You were manipulated and abused. Mentally controlled. Verbally and physically abused. Sweetheart, this isnât your fault.â You promise him, âthis isnât your fault.â
Frankie sighs, feeling exhausted. âI couldnât let her kill you.â He admits quietly. âI- I almost hit her, but she knocked me out with something.â He looks into your eyes. âCan you-? I just want to get out of here. I donât want to be here anymore.â
You nod, letting go of his hand and you make your way around the car to get in the driver's seat. You start the engine and make your way down the street past the police cars and the black van so you can get Frankie somewhere safe. Heâs quiet for the drive and when you pull up on your driveway, you cut the engine and look at him, âdo you want something to eat?â
âIâm not hungry.â He murmurs quietly, looking at the front of your place. He honestly wants to shower until his skin is red and then sleep for the next year. âCan- can I shower?â He asks, turning his head quickly and looking at you with wide eyes. âI- I need to feel clean.â
âOf course you can.â You hate that he asks you like that. Like youâre going to slap him for inconveniencing you. âCome on.â You say and open the car door, moving fast to unlock your home so he can get comfortable. âYou know where the guest room is. You can stay as long as you like. Thereâs fresh towels and I think I have a pair of your sweats from when you stayed over a few years ago when you were having your house painted.â You say and he nods, making his way to the bathroom. When he shuts the door, you allow the tears to fall. How did you not see this? How did you let him be abused by Darcy? Why didnât you check on him more? You feel incredibly guilty.
Inside the bathroom, Frankie turns on the shower and sits on the toilet seat. Shell-shocked and unable to believe what happened. Having a small breakdown when he imagines what could have happened if the police hadnât come and you had walked into his house. If Darcy had killed you. He slaps his hand over his mouth, starting to sob and trying to keep it quiet.
You wipe your eyes and splash your face with water. You know you didnât have a clue about the abuse Frankie was facing and you wonder if your presence triggered her or if you made it worse in some way. Her words when you went to tell her about you and Frankie ring in your ears when you remember how vehemently she declared Frankie to belong to her. You wish you had seen the signs. You have to be strong for Frankie though.
Eventually, Frankie climbs into the shower and nearly burns his skin off, scrubbing harshly with the soap and rag to feel clean again. If the tears mix with water and slide down the drain undetected, he doesnât acknowledge them. Waiting until the water runs icy cold before he turns it off and steps out to wrap a towel around his waist. The bruises are visible. Some fresh and dark purple, others a sickly green and yellowish, making him grimace in the mirror as he traces them before turning away and opening the door. Grateful that you have given him a place to stay tonight.
You look up when Frankie exits the bathroom and comes into the living room with the towel wrapped around his waist and you see the bruises. You choke on your breath, tears in your eyes and you stand up to walk over to him. âCan I- oh God. Frankie.â You sob, reaching up to gently wrap your arms around him and you feel the guilt almost suffocate you.
âIâm okay.â Heâs not, but he will be. Overwhelmed by the fact that he is free, he wraps his arms around you and crushes you against him, burying his face into your neck. âThank you.â He whispers. âFor being here.â
âAlways, sweetheart. Iâm always here for you.â You promise, sniffing as you run your fingers through his hair. âYouâre okay.â You echo, âYouâre safe.â You promise and you caress his neck. âWhy donât you get some sleep?â You murmur, knowing he must be exhausted.Â
âI donât want to be alone.â He whispers and you hum, âyou can stay with me. If thatâs okay?â
âPlease?â Itâs pathetic and he can hear Darcyâs voice in his head, reaming him for needing you to sleep beside him, but he tries to ignore that. Sighing softly in relief when you take his hand and guide him towards your bedroom. He needs to be near you, to know that you are okay and that he is safe. It was another reason he had gone with you that night you were together. He had been terrified it had been you on that mountain and then relieved that you were still with him.
âI have your sweats. Iâm gonna get ready for bed. Iâll be five minutes, okay?â You ask and he nods. You caress his back and make your way into your bathroom, getting ready for bed. Once youâre in your tank top and shorts, you shut the door behind you and see that Frankie is already in bed. You turn off the lamp and slide under the covers, wrapping your arms around him. âGoodnight Frankie.â
Frankie sighs, relaxing when he wraps his arms around you. Closing his eyes and pressing his nose into your hair. âGoodnight, and thank you again.â He squeezes you tight and settles into the bed, holding you close.
****Â
Itâs been six months since the night Darcy tried to kill you and Frankie has been going to therapy. He is in a much better place and is a loving father to Ava. During his therapy sessions or other appointments, you look after Ava. Darcyâs parents were ashamed of their daughter and her abuse, they have been giving Frankie some space until he is ready to have them back in Avaâs life.Â
You look up as Frankie comes into the house and Ava rushes over to him, âdada! Dada!â She cries and he bends down to pick her up, kissing her cheek.Â
âSheâs been a good girl?â He asks you and you stand up from the rug scattered with toys.Â
âShe always is.â You coo at Ava. âYou want some coffee?â You ask and he nods, holding Ava on his hip. He moved a few weeks after that night, unable to live in that house full of horrid memories and his new place is cozy enough for him and Ava. He got his license reinstated and the boys have been supporting him through everything. Things are finally starting to look up as Frankie is able to process what happened to him at the hands of Darcy. You quickly prepare the coffees and get some milk for Ava along with one of the cookies she loves and she rushes over to eat the cookie on the rug, making you chuckle. âShe can never sit still. Just like her father.â
âThatâs because if Iâm still, Iâm gonna fall asleep.â Frankie jokes, smiling at the sight of Ava happily eating a cookie and watching TV. She hadnât asked about Darcy much, and seemed to accept that momma had gone to Heaven and she wouldnât see her anymore. In fact, he had often wondered if she had started being mean to Ava because the young girl seems so happy. âYou are so good with her.â He tells you, taking the cup of coffee with an appreciative smile. âI donât think you know how much I owe you.â
âNothing. You owe me nothing. Thereâs nowhere else Iâd be. I - I love Ava and you needed help. I couldnât let you do this all on your own after dealing with Darcy. I wanted to help you because I love you both. So much.â You smile and pick up your own cup of coffee. Telling Frankie you love him has become second nature but the true depth of your feelings has never become a subject youâve been brave enough to broach, especially since heâs been healing physically and mentally from Darcyâs abuse.
Frankieâs stomach flips and he takes another sip of his coffee. Youâve said you love him almost every day and you donât even know how much it means to him. Heâs talked about you in therapy, about his feelings for you and the therapist has encouraged him to start talking to you about them. About how heâs always been in love with you, how heâs still in love with you. That despite what Darcy put him through, he would like to see what could happen with you in a relationship. âI love you too.â He tells you honestly.
His words make your heart thump and your eyes meet his over your cups of coffee, but you donât get your hopes up that he means heâs in love with you. Heâs been through so much. The last thing he probably wants is to get into a relationship. He needs time to heal and to ensure Ava is happy and safe. âI know you do.â You tease softly, âitâs the pasta dish I make, isnât it?â
âItâs the fact that Iâve always been in love with you.â He admits, setting his coffee mug down and shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyes are searching yours and heâs reminding himself that you wouldnât react harshly, even if you didnât feel the same way. âI donât know what you want. Or how you feel, but Dr. Thomas said that I should talk to you.â
Your eyes widen as you realize heâs serious and you set your coffee cup down so your shaking hand doesnât spill it everywhere. You stare at him for a moment from the other side of the kitchen and you bite your lip. âYou want to know how I feel? Iâve been in love with you since we first met. That night we all went out to the bar to get to know each other and you bought that hat off of some guy in the parking lot. I have been in love with you every day since then and Iâll be in love with you every day from now on. I love you, Frankie. With everything I am.â
He closes his eyes, nodding. As he absorbs the idea that you feel the same way that he does. Feeling the warmth settle in his chest and he bites his lip as he opens his eyes. âI-â he steps closer to you and reaches for your waist. âI would think about you.â He admits softly. âWhen Darcy was being really bad, I would remember that one time we were together. It - it saved me.â
Your heart pounds in your chest and simultaneously breaks when you hear that Frankie had to escape like that. You swallow harshly and reach up to cup his cheek, âI wish I could take away everything she did to you.â You whisper, caressing his cheek.
âI -â he leans into your touch and sighs. âIt doesnât matter now. I just want to move on.â He admits quietly.
âYou can move on. You need to confront what happened, be stronger from the experience and move on.â You murmur, leaning in to gently kiss his chin, his stubble scratching your lips. âI love you, Francisco.â
âCan I kiss you?â He asks softly. âI want to kiss you sober.â
You nod, moving slowly so he can pull back if he wants and you lean in to softly press your lips to his. Itâs gentle and sweet and everything youâve wanted with Frankie, your body lighting up at the connection. You donât move to deepen the kiss, wanting him to control this.
He sighs again, sliding his arms up and around you. Softly pulling you closer. He doesnât think that you will push him away but he wants to give you the time to. If you want to keep it simple.
His hands squeeze your waist and you lean into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. You whimper when his tongue slides against yours and itâs like coming home, like you belong here with him at this moment.
Frankie wants to live in this moment. Feeling your hands on his body, worshiping him with your fingers as they caress his neck. His daughter laughing at her cartoon, safe and sound. He kisses you until he feels like he canât breathe. Pulling back and smiling at you. âStay tonight?â He asks softly.
You nod, breathless and lips swollen from his kisses and you whimper when he kisses you again. ****Â
âSheâs asleep.â You tell Frankie as you walk into the living room after putting Ava to bed. She had clung to you for a while until she finally passed out on your shoulder and you put her to bed. Frankie looks up from his phone and sets it down. âYou donât have to put the phone down.â You assure him softly, âIâm not gonna check it.â You promise, knowing thatâs part of his learned behavior with Darcy.
âI was texting Benny.â He tells you with a self depreciating grin. âHeâs checking on me. Again.â He had been embarrassed, but he told them all what had been happening. Since then, all of them checked in with him at least once a day. He knows they are worried, wanting to make sure he doesnât start using again.
You come and sit down beside him on the sofa, reaching for his free hand. âThey love you. They all wanna make sure youâre okay.â You say and squeeze his hand. âBaby, youâre doing so well.â You praise him.
âIâll take your word for it.â He chuckles quietly and he squeezes your hand. âI donât want you to feel like we have to do anything.â He tells you. âBut, I - I want to.â He admits. âIâve been- I jerked off in the shower before you came over.â The therapist had urged him to not hide his needs and to be honest with you. So he is.
You inhale sharply, your stomach twisting with arousal, and youâve been trying to hide your attraction to him, uncertain if he wants to touch or be touched after suffering such a traumatic event. You shift a little closer to him, âI want to- I want you. Whatever youâre comfortable with. I just want you, Frankie.â You murmur, leaning closer to softly kiss him.
He hums into the kiss, his memory of your only night so far is burned into his brain but he wants something different. That was lust fueled, frantic. âI want to make love to you.â He whispers, moving to kiss along your jaw. âWe fucked the last time, I want to make love to you.â
You lean into him, moaning softly at the thought, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, âI would love that, sweetheart.â You murmur, leaning back so you can kiss him properly. His tongue slides against yours for a moment until you pull back, âtake me to your bed.â You order softly but you want him to be in control tonight. He has to be comfortable.
Heâs nervous now that heâs not high. That heâs doing this with a clear mind. Old anxieties spring to the surface but he pushes them down. You arenât Darcy and you wouldnât criticize everything he did in bed. Heâs already half hard, proving that he didnât have any issue getting it up for you.
You stand up and hold your hand out to him. He takes it and escorts you to his bedroom. The bed is messily made but you donât care about that when Frankie is pulling you close again. âI love you.â You murmur, cupping his cheeks before you lean in to kiss him. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt and you pull back so he can drag it over your head. âCan I take your shirt off?â You ask him and he nods. You move fast to take his shirt off, caressing his skin - free of bruises and no physical scars, except the ones he got in battle, displaying the abuse he endured. âSo handsome.â You murmur, admiring him.
Frankie twitches slightly, not that he doesnât believe you think that, itâs just heâs always been a bit reserved. The other guys were hit on more than he was, though he did alright. He reaches for you, wanting to see your body again. Compare it to the memory he has. âI love you. You are gorgeous.â He hated all the hateful things Darcy had said about you, none of them true. His hands slide under your shirt and he groans as he reveals your plain bra.
You feel gorgeous under his touch, despite the comments from Darcy. You reach down to squeeze him through his pants but he drags your bra down your arms and heâs ducking his head to wrap his lips around your nipple. You gasp, gripping his shoulders, âFrankie. Shit.â You hiss when he bites down, making your cunt clench around nothing.
Frankie moans, his cock fully hard and pressing against his fly. He loves the way that you respond to him and the way your nipple tightens in his mouth. Fingers trance up your spine before he works on undoing your jeans. Wanting to see all of you, touch you. Your taste is still a flavor on his tongue, but he wants to drown in it.
You whimper when he switches to your other breast and whine when he pulls back so he can push your jeans down your legs. âFuck baby.â You gasp when his hand slides between your legs to rub your clit through your panties.
âLet me make you feel good.â He begs softly. Heâs not doing this because he has to. Heâs doing it because he wants to, he needs to. His fingers rub the material, groaning around your nipple with the wetness that starts to soak through.
You whimper, rocking your hips down to meet his fingers, and you grip his shoulder while your other hand reaches down to squeeze him through his jeans. âIâm yours. You can do what you want.â You promise him.
âIâm yours too.â He promises, twitching under your touch and loving how eagerly you want him. He pushes under your panties and starts to slowly stroke your clit as he kisses back up your chest and then to your lips.
You moan into his mouth, snaking your hand into his boxers, squeezing him as his fingers rub your clit. âFuck baby. Never forgot how thick you are.â
âYeah?â Heâs proud of the fact that you think heâs thick. âDo you like it? Thick, I mean? Did it feel good?â
âI loved it.â You promise him, jerking him slowly as his fingers rub your clit and you close your eyes as his lips kiss along your neck. âI love you. Everything about you. Even your demons. I love every part of you. Accept every part.â You promise breathlessly as you squeeze him. âGod, I need you inside of me.â
âYou donât want me to eat you out?â He asks in surprise. He had thought you had enjoyed it that night but maybe you just didnât want it right now. âYouâd rather I fuck you?â
You can tell heâs anxious and you pull back to look at him. âBaby, your tongue is literally magic. I never came from oral before your tongue came along. I loved it.â You reassure him, âI just - I want to feel connected to you.â You explain, hoping he understands that this is more than just sex. You want to feel him in your bones, in your soul.
Frankie smiles, relieved that you had cum. He had sworn you had, but he had also been high. âI get it.â He promises you, reluctantly pulling his hand out of your panties and starting to drag them down. âI want to be connected to you too.â He smirks slightly, feeling confident that it will be amazing. Everything with you is amazing.
You smile and caress his cheek with your free hand and you reach down to shove his boxers down his legs. He is throbbing and you want him to feel loved, to feel cherished. You sink down onto your knees, looking up at him. âI love you.â You declare and lean in to wrap your lips around his cock after gripping him. You want to make him feel good, feel cherished.
âOh fuck.â Frankie chokes out the sound and tries not to buck his hips forward. Chasing the sweet heat of your mouth and the way you softly suckle him. âSo good baby. Fuck, baby.â He coos softly, reaching down and stroking your cheek. You look so fucking pretty with his cock in your mouth. âI love you so goddamn much.â He promises, knowing that you donât pity him for what happened.
You moan around his cock, loving how he is caressing your cheek and praising you. You love how comfortable he is, no longer ashamed of himself after months of therapy. You pull off of his cock, jerking him with your hand, "I love you. You want to cum down my throat or inside of me?" You ask, wanting him to choose.
âInside.â He croaks out, pulsing in your hand at the thought. âI want to be inside you, so deep I donât know where I stop and you start.â
You let go of him and shift to stand up, leaning in to kiss him. "How do you want me?" You ask and he murmurs against your lips, "on your back." You nod, shifting to lay down on his bed, naked and aching for him.
Frankie takes his time, standing up and slowly stripping. Watching as you lay down on the bed and spreading your legs to show him your dripping cunt. âSo fucking gorgeous and all mine.â He groans, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down to expose his pre-cum stained boxer briefs.
You moan, âall yours baby.â You shift onto your elbows so you can watch him strip off, his pants kicked aside and his fingers wrap around his cock to slowly pump himself. âIâm yours. Always have been. Since we met.â You promise, chest heaving as he kneels on the bed.
âI wish I had Ava with you.â He admits as he shuffles closer. âYou are perfect, great with her too, not just me.â He slides a hand along your thigh. âI used to dream of us being a family.â
You look up at him, âwe can have a baby together if you want. Give her a sibling. Not now. But when we are ready.â You tell him.
âYeah?â He groans quietly, imagining how good you would look round with his baby. âI want that. One day when weâre ready.â He slowly strokes his cock again before moving into position between your thighs.
You inhale deeply, eyes focused on him, and when he notches himself at your entrance, shifting onto his elbows, and you reach up to caress his chest as he starts to push inside of you. âI love you, Francisco.â You murmur softly, looking at him with adoration as he pushes inside of you.
Itâs slow. Healing almost, as he closes his eyes. Head pressing against your forehead as he lowers himself on top of you and slides his arms under your back. âI love you, baby.â He promises breathlessly. âSo much. Youâre my everything.â
You whimper as he pushes into you. âEverything.â You echo, knowing itâs always been true. You caress his back as he pushes deep inside of you and you feel full and complete. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you look at him to take in the moment.
Frankie groans your name when he bottoms out, feeling like heâs home deep inside you. The look of adoration in your eyes makes him want to cry and he knows that Darcy never looked at him that way, not even in the beginning. He leans in and presses his lips to yours, twitching when he does.
You caress every inch of skin you can reach, loving how he feels inside of you, and you kiss him tenderly, unrushed. You want this to last forever. You murmur his name against his lips and he starts to move inside of you, making you gasp.
Itâs overwhelming. Every time he rocks his hips he feels like heâs in Heaven. Holding you tight and groaning your name as he kisses you over and over again.
You pant into his mouth, heart pounding and skin on fire as rocks into you. Itâs sweet and unhurried and takes your breath away. âFuck, Frankie. This is better than last time.â You confess as he kisses down your neck.
It is better than the last time. Both of you are sober and thereâs no lingering guilt because of Darcy. Nothing but the two of you and the pleasure that your love can bring to each other. âI know.â He rasps out. âNever want it to end.â
âMe neither.â You gasp as he rocks into you and you lift your hip, changing the angle, and it makes your breath hitch as he hits something incredible inside of you. âShit. There, Frankie.â You pant and he nods, brow furrowing as he rocks into you, focusing on that spot. âOh God.â You cry softly, âoh shit. Thatâs - oh Iâm gonna-â You whine, clamping down on his cock seconds later.
Stealing his breath, Frankie watches as you come apart under him. Barely able to move as you hold his cock in your spasming walls, he grits his teeth as he tries not to cum. Wanting to make it last a little longer. Although he knows heâs going to wrap himself around you all night rather than slink off in shame.
Your eyes are clenched shut as the pleasure surges through you, making your toes curl, and you know you could never live a day without Frankie. You need him now like you need oxygen. âFuck baby. I- oh God.â You pant, walls relaxing after you soaked his cock with your cum.
âThatâs it, fuck youâre so pretty when you cum.â He praises breathlessly, kissing down your jaw. âLove you so much, need you. Want you forever.â He canât imagine anything else but you.
His words make your heart pound in your chest and your entire body is responding to him. âI need you. Forever, Francisco. Iâve always been yours. I belong to you.â You promise him with a sigh.
He groans quietly as he starts to move again. Knowing that he will cum soon, he slides a hand between you to rub your clit. âYours baby, Iâm yours.â With Darcy, it had been forced, but with you itâs completely honest. âWant you to cum again, baby.â
You whine softly, overstimulated but he pushes you over into pleasure again and you tangle your fingers in his hair to drag his lips back to yours. You wrap your legs around his hips, pushing him deeper and trapping his hand between you. You whimper into his mouth, getting closer until you fall over the edge again, clamping down on his cock.
This time, Frankie is right there with you. Choking out your name as he pushes deep, wanting to be just as buried as he can manage to be when he starts flooding your womb with his hot seed. Panting with every spurt until heâs collapsing on top of you and pressing his lips to your neck.
You caress his back, eyes closed as you realize heâs safe and youâre together. Everything you ever dreamed to come true is now true and youâll spend the rest of your life protecting him, loving him. Heâs still healing but soon, you want to be his wife, the mother of his children, and spend the rest of your days by his side. Itâs a bright future with Frankie, something he never imagined possible: a future with you, him, and your children.
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->-> Stop Leaving Me || Toji Fushiguro x Black fem reader
A lil' unedited(yikes!) excerpt of your baby daddy :)
Synopsis: Toji comes to your house just as you're getting ready for your date. Once he sees you, he doesn't want to let you go, he couldn't possibly still be in love with you, could he?
Warnings!: This is short and sweet so enjoy. Toji's a little jealous asshole, marking, fingering, finger sucking, unprotected vaginal sex (don't be like them), oral (fem! receiving), dirty talk, unapologetic Toji, begging FROM BOTH, hair pulling.
Word count: 619
Minors do not interact!!
You didn't know how to feel, this was going to be your first date in about 2 years, the first date since Toji left you. It was finally time to move on from that scum bag, to go live your life with your daughter and potentially new man. He was kind, respectful, and had been running after you for months. Nanami was everything you could ever need from a man, so why was it, that you couldn't stop thinking about Toji? You turned around once you heard loud banging on the door, walking slowly, you slightly cracked open the door to peek.
Shouting, you took a few steps back as the burly man practically shoved himself into the hallway. Closing the door, he looked down at you with no clear expression. It was him, your former everything. "Fushiguro, get the hell out- hey! What the fuck??" You cursed at him as he quietly shoved you against the wall.
"Shut the fuck up. Why the hell do you look like that, huh? Are you seriously going on a date?" He looked you up and down with a huff and you sneered. "I am matter of fact. What are you doing here? It's 7 at night, I have to leave in thirty minutes. This is not the time for your bullshit." you groaned while pushing on his shoulders gently. Which to your luck didn't make even the slightest difference.
"My bullshit? That's funny coming from you.." He scoffed before his hand found it's way to the back of your head , and he pulled at your hair, making you let out a strained whimper. "Stop that!" Toji only rolled his eyes and leaned into your neck.
He smelled so good, the faint smell of Pine and weed filled your nose. You hated how you leaned into him with a sigh. You didn't move when you felt his hand cup your slightly damp panties and slip them to the side.
You spread your legs further and look to the door. The thought of Nanami coming in and seeing you both like this sent another fresh wave of arousal through your body. "Tell me to stop. I'll walk away right now." His raspy voice only added to the growing mess under his fingers and you shook your head. "Continue, please don't stop."
Toji didn't waste any time slipping a finger into your wet cunt, both of you moaning at the feel. You could feel his tongue run patterns along your neck which were followed by his teeth.
"Come on, pretty girl. I wanna hear you. All of you." He slips two more fingers inside and starts to roughly thrust them out of you. He starts to rub your clit in rough, rigorous movements as his mouth works on the side of your shoulder. You moan loudly and buck your hips towards him in a failed attempt at more friction.
The pleasure so intense that you can barely keep yourself upright. He grins and pulls his fingers out, leaving you sweaty and breathless. The lack of contact makes you whine, clutching at his shirt. He brings his fingers to his mouth, pressing their way in and licks them clean while maintaining eye contact.
"Bet you needed this hm? Craved my fingers going to deep inside you, before fucking you nice and hard. Just the way you like it." He smugly laughed before curling his fingers into you at cruel, slow pace.
"Ha, a-as if! oh oh fuuuck!" You drew him closer, screwing your eyes shut as your orgasm flowed through you. You cunt gushing around both your thighs and his hands, having Toji slurp it all up in front of you.
"Such a dirty slut.."
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First off I wanna say I love your writing!
So basically the read would of had been haunted by the ghost of their childhood best friend after the had accidentally coursed their house to catch on fire (they would been 5 when this happened) and every since they have been trying to find a way to help them move on, especially since the friend does not understand that the fire was an accident. they have by some miracle kept this a secret from everyone but after they get called to a abandoned wearhouse the secret is revealed, the friends ghost tries to hurt the reader after separating them from the group but lars manages to save them and fianlly they come clean about it all.
I hope how I've formatted this makes sense:)
Thank you!!!! It made total sense and I really hope you like what I did with it.
Fog was rolling across the huge expanse of the floor. It didnât feel real, like a movie set with the shadows and the fog and the swinging chains as you passed. Your heart was hammering in your chest, loud in your ears. Your breaths were unsteady and you could feel yourself tremble in the cold air. Gripping your proton gun harder, you took a hesitant step forward.
âCareful,â Lars said, a large hand closing over your shoulder.
âThis isnât my fist rodeo,â you said, glancing at him over your shoulder.
He was staring at something in the distance, squinting behind his glasses. You tried to see what he was looking at but it was all roiling shadows and darkness reaching out. Or maybe that was what he was looking at so intently.
âAlright, you guys take upstairs and weâll sweep down here,â Callie said, turning her head as she took in the whole abandoned warehouse.
On quiet footsteps, you and the younger Spenglers made your way up to the upper levels of the warehouse, peering down into the wide expanse below you. The teenagers peeled off, leaving you with Lars to prowl through the offices.
Youâd been with the Ghostbusters for a few months now, having shown up on their doorstep one day demanding a job. Your experience with ghosts got you through the door, your refusal to say no keeping you. And yet guilt dogged your every step.
You hadnât told anyone why you were so desperate to work with them. Your late nights were less about your passion for the Ghostbusters and more about your need to find answers. Answers you thought only they would have.
Larsâ shoulder brushed against yours, walking beside you towards the first door. Maybe there was another reason you wanted to stick around too.
âLadies first,â he said, motioning to the door for you.
âCoward.â You smirked at him.
You pushed the door open, gun raised, sweeping the room. He followed behind, watching your back, calculating gaze investigating the shadows. Checking under the desk, you let out a relieved breath.
The call had come in the middle of the night. Weird noises and ghostly spectres in the warehouse. Loud noises had been scaring the night watchmen in the area, a few even quitting after being chased from the building. Being awoke in the night, groggy and unsure, Callie telling you to gear up, was hardly normal and yet it was hard to hate it. Excitement around every corner and all that.
âClear,â you said.
You straightened, taking a step back from how close he was. You hadnât been expecting it, thinking he was on the other side of the room. A hand shot out, grasping your elbow before you could lose your balance.
âNext room?â he asked.
âSure.â
You only got a few steps before you heard something shifting in the darkness at the end of the hall. A flash of a familiar face faded into the shadows. Your heart stumbled before pounding hard against your ribs. Taking a deep breath, you schooled your features.
âHow about you do this room and Iâll do the next one and then weâll be done in half the time,â you suggested to Lars.
âWeâre not meant to split up,â he said, âin case something happens.â
âItâs the middle of the night. Donât you want to get out of here quicker?â you asked.
He considered you for a moment before he gave a slow nod.
âIâll only be next door. Scream if you get attacked,â you said.
He rolled his eyes but you could see the way he was trying to suppress a smile. You waited until heâd slipped through into the next room before high tailing it down the hall on tip toes. Gaze darting around the hall, you tried to find her.
âLizzy,â you hissed, trying to stop any of the other Ghostbusters from hearing you, âI know youâre here.â
An echoing giggle lured you further, chasing a ghost. Darting from shadow to shadow, gun held in your hand, you hoped this would be the time you could finally help her move on. It had taken so long to realise that when you saw Lizzy and no one else could that it was because she wasnât really there. Your parents had been so worried when you insisted Lizzy wasnât dead because you could see her, standing at the end of your street or following you around school.
Eventually, after the first time sheâd scared you, you realised something wasnât right. That your parents had been right. That she had died that awful night and you were being haunted by her ghost. That she wouldnât move until you could help her.
Another giggle drew you further into the shadows. This was your chance. Youâd spent months working with the Ghostbusters and this was the first time she was letting you get close again. You could help her. She could move on if she would only get a chance.
At the end of the hall, the familiar figure of Lizzy floated, a few inches above the floor. She looked exactly the same as she had that night, a young girl, caught in amber, nothing but a memory torn from your childhood. You took a shuddering breath in.
âLizzy,â you breathed.
On hesitant footsteps, you approached. Any time youâd gotten close to her, sheâd erupted in anger, always ending with you cowering in a corner, begging her to leave you alone. But you were stronger now. You were better. You could fix this.
âHi,â she said in that sweet little girl voice that was burned into your brain, âthis place is kinda scary.â
âThatâs okay. Iâm here. Nothingâs going to happen to you,â you said.
âBut something already has happened to me,â she said, so matter of fact.
Your breath froze in your chest, the air growing colder again. You held out a hand to her, wanting her to trust you. Wanting her to believe you.
âIâm so sorry, Lizzy. I can fix this. I promise I can fix this.â
A few more steps towards her and you thought you might freeze. It was so cold and every drag of breath hurt. And yet the hope kept you going.
âHow?â she asked, sounding so lost.
âI can help you move on. We just need to figure out what your unfinished business is,â you said.
âI know what it that is,â she said.
You knelt down in front of her.
âWhatâs your unfinished business?â you asked.
âMaking you pay for doing this to me.â
Wind slammed into you from behind. You fell forward, your hands coming up to catch yourself before your face could slam into the floor. Rolling onto your back, you found her floating above you. You scrabbled for the gun youâd dropped but something stopped you. This was Lizzy, your best friend, you couldnât do something that hurt her. Again.
You scrambled back, scared as her face began to morph into something from your nightmares. Elongating, teeth growing, eyes flickering like fire, no longer was she the sweet little girl caught in your memories. Before your eyes, she was turning into a demon, fuelled by rage and revenge.
Your hand came down, expecting to feel more floor but only finding empty space. Turning, you found broken off railing, the hall hanging over empty space, the concrete floor of the warehouse so far from you. Another gust of wind slammed into you, pushing you closer to the edge. A low moan came from deep within your chest and you found Lizzy floating closer.
She swooped down at you, a scream bursting unbidden from you. Raising your arms to cover your head, you felt yourself teeter on the edge. Another scream. You knew you wouldnât survive that fall, smashing against the concrete like a broken door.
âIâm going to hurt you like you hurt me,â Lizzy said, her voice high and sweet, such a difference to the words coming from her.
âIâm sorry. Iâm so sorry,â you babbled, gasping for breath.
Tears were streaming down your cheeks. Another crash of wind slamming into you. You teetered, before falling backwards. It felt slow motion in your mind. The knowledge you were about to die was all you could focus on.
Then a hand grasped yours, holding on so tight you thought your blood supply might cut off. You cut off a sob, grasping onto the warmth, almost burning after the chill of the air. Inch by inch you were dragged back up, the metal walkway the greatest thing youâd ever felt.
âWhat happened?â Lars asked.
He was crouched next to you, still holding on while you panted, gasping for breath, the sobs not abating. You shook your head, not able to answer. The truth too much to spill.
âYouâve made a new friend.â Your eyes squeezed shut at the sweet voice, âthatâs not fair.â
Lars was slow to look up, attention shifting from you to your ghost. You whimpered, crawling further from the edge, fingers curling into the back of his uniform, clutching at it hard enough for your knuckles to turn white.
âDonât hurt him. Please,â you begged.
âYou mean like you didnât hurt me?â A high childish giggle, âI donât think so.â
Lars grasped his gun, pulling it free. Levelling it at Lizzy, he was slow to stand, pulling you with him. Standing close, you wanted to stop him but you were terrified she was going to hurt him.
âAlright, thereâs no need to get aggressive,â Lars said, clearly trying to calm the situation.
âShe hurt me,â she said, ânow Iâm going to hurt her. And then sheâll be with me forever just like she promised.â
He raised his gun higher, keeping himself between you and her. She rose higher, then, using the same move, swooped down. He didnât hesitate, firing the proton stream at her. It wrapped around her, holding her in place. The enraged scream that came from her hurt you, like a brand burned on your inside.
âI need the trap,â he said, glancing back at you.
Sweat was beading at his temples as he held her and you felt frozen. Her anger was so visceral, struggling against the proton stream. Her scream was pure rage.
âHey.â
He finally caught your attention, his voice softened as he looked at you from behind glass.
âTrap,â he said.
You fumbled with the trap hanging from your belt. Sliding it along the floor, you looked up at Lizzy, knowing this would be it. She wouldnât move on. Sheâd be trapped, kept in storage to be studied by people like Lars. And yet you had to, if you wanted to keep her from hurting the people you cared about.
âIâm sorry,â you said to her.
His foot slammed down on the trigger, opening it. Her rage was like a physical thing, her struggle increasing. And she looked like a little girl, scared, terrified, of where she was being forced into. Lars dragged her down until the trapâs vacuum sucked her in.
It closed with a snap and you were left in silence. You fell, knees slamming into the metal walkway, your sobs loud in your own ears. You pressed the heel of your palms to your eyes, trying to stifle it all.
A large hand landed on your shoulder, offering the stability you didnât have. Lars was kneeling in front of you, ignoring the smoking trap behind him, his eyes focused completely on you. You took a deep shuddering breath in, trying to stop crying. He waited, patient until you were calmer.
âAre you hurt?â he asked, eyes sweeping over you.
âNo.â Your voice was so small.
âThis ghost seemed to know you,â he said.
You gave a small nod, scared what admitting your past crimes would do. It terrified you.
âYouâve met her before?â he asked.
You gave a wet chuckle. His thumb gently brushed the tears away.
âLars, I created her,â you said, âI did that to her.â
âWhat do you mean?â he asked.
And just like that the whole sorry story tumbled from your lips, words tripping over themselves in their haste to be told. The fire when you were five, consuming the house, burning it to the ground. Lizzy caught inside, you pulled free, your best friend gone. The fact you caused the fire. Your haunting. Every attempt to help her move on and the anger at your part in her death. The resentment in the assumption youâd done it on purpose. The guilt you carried with you every day. The fear of who you were, if you were a monster, if you were an awful person.
And once the words had run out he did the one thing you couldnât have expected.
His lips were soft when they pressed to your forehead. You froze, not sure what to do, heart fluttering. Large hands cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.
âIt was an accident. Youâve been trying to help her move on. Youâre not a monster. Youâre trying your best to make it up to her,â he said.
You fell forward, sinking into him, face pressed into his shoulder. His arms were hesitant as they came up, circling your body.
âI couldnât save her,â you said, muffled against his shoulder.
âWeâll help her move on,â he said, âI promise.â
You pressed harder against him, hugging him tight, surprised by how light you felt after your confession. A problem shared was a problem halved. His lips pressed to your temple, soft and comforting and making you feel something addictive.
âI promise,â he whispered.
You turned your head, nose brushing against his. He froze, those beautiful blue eyes looking at you, something in them different. You lent forward, pressing your lips to his for a moment. It might have been the wrong time, but youâd almost died that night and you needed him to know. You drew back, worried about his reaction but the look on his face was like heâd just been let in on all the secrets of the universe. Like he was full of wonder. Like youâd given the greatest gift in the world.
He pulled you closer again, lips brushing yours with a sweetness that made your heart squeeze. You sighed into his mouth, clutching at his uniform. He was so warm under your hands and he was so beautiful and you couldnât work out why youâd taken so long to kiss him.
âOi, whatâs this?â
You startled, pulling back from him. Trevor was looking less than impressed at the two of you, glaring down the walkway to your bodies curled into one another.
âWeâre doing all the work over here and youâve snuck away to hook up. Typical.â You could just tell he was rolling his eyes.
âI almost died. Give me a break,â you called back at him.
Lars froze in your arms. He pulled away, standing up, offering you a hand to help you to your feel. Your knees still felt unsteady, his arm around your waist helping you along. Plucking the smoking trap from the ground, he attached it to your belt.
âI promise,â he said again, confirming he wasnât going to be spilling your secrets to the others.
You offered him a small smile, your first since the attack. He pulled you closer, another kiss pressed to your temple. You could have just melted from it.
The extra squeeze he gave you was exactly what you needed.
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youâre just a boy (and iâm kinda the man)
prompt: âiâm on a one-way trip to take over the world, and i thought you did, but you donât understand.â
pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader
summary: daniel leaves mclaren, and you decide to put your career first, at the cost of the person you love.
a/n: genuinely made myself sad with this one, sorry :( song is by maisie peters!
masterlist | spotify prompts series
âI just donât understand how you can stay with them after everything theyâve put you through.â
you ran a hand through your hair, exasperated.
âthatâs just it, danny, you donât understand.â you sighed, slumping forward on the desk, your elbow resting on the surface and your head resting in your hand. the other hand was gripping the phone held to your ear. âthis is my career, itâs my entire life. I might not get another opportunity.â
âyou know itâs the same for me, right?â danielâs voice crackled through the phone after a few moments of silence, his volume quieter now. âthis is the end of my career, probably. but itâs gotta be better than staying with mclaren.â
you shook your head, even though he couldnât see.
âbut youâre you, danny. youâll get another chance, Iâm sure. youâre one of the biggest faces in this sport.â you sighed again, âbut Iâm just me. no one is gonna offer me a second chance.â you tried to explain, raising your head slightly to glance at the rain softly hitting the window.
you heard him mutter something inaudible on the other end of the line, the words obscured by the static of the airwaves. you knew he hated when you did that, talked down about yourself. youâd lost count of the number of times the two of you had sat shoulder to shoulder in your drivers room, trying to boost each others spirits after a bad race. daniel was your teammate, your closest friend, your partner in crime, the love of your life. heâd always been able to see things from your point of view. why couldnât he understand this decision? a conversation from a few months ago drifted through your mind. whatever we do, we do it together. youâd been the one to say that, and now look at you; reluctant to follow daniel into the unknown because you were scared. scared of the uncertainty. scared of losing your one shot at this career. youâd meant what youâd said at the time, but⊠no. you couldnât do it. daniel was nearly the best thing that had ever happened to you, second only to earning a seat in formula one. that had to come first. you had to put yourself first. but it didnât seem to make this phone call any easier. god, you wished you werenât hundreds of miles away.
âjust think, me, you, the outback. weâll have all the time for dirt bikes and beach trips that you could possibly want.â danielâs voice brought you back to the present. you could hear the crack in his voice as he tried to persuade you, the one that told you he already knew this was a losing battle. he was losing you. you tilted your head back, looking up at the ceiling; for the first time you were actually glad that this was all happening over a phone call, that daniel couldnât see the tears forming on your lower lash line.
âI canât, danny. you know I canât.â even if daniel couldnât see you crying, you were being optimistic if you hoped he couldnât hear it in your voice.
âI know.â he sighed, the noise soft, quiet. there was silence on the line for just a moment, and you felt inclined to fill it, terrified that the conversation was already drawing to a close. you didnât want daniel to hang up. you didnât want to believe that this could all be over just like that.
âIâm really sorry, dan.â you apologised, saying anything to try and keep the momentum of the conversation.
âyou donât need to apologise. itâs not your fault.â came his predictable reply, but his tone was missing the kindness, the affection, youâd come to expect from a phone call with daniel. his voice was flat, monotone, and you found yourself unable to read how he was feeling. it had been a long time since that had happened; you and daniel always used to be on the same wavelength. it felt alien, like you were out of your depth. was he angry? upset? did he just not care anymore?
âwe can still make this work, canât we?â
youâd been avoiding the question, but now there was nothing left to say but that. the pause on the other end of the line didnât fill you with confidence.
âI want to, god, you donât even understand how much I want to.â came danielâs reply, voice no longer monotone, instead betraying the emotions he was feeling. you winced as you could almost hear the âbutâ on the end of his sentence.
âwe can try, right? like, I can come visit you over christmas, then next year youâll probably be at some of the race weekends anyway, and then I can try and get away from training during summer breakâŠâ
the more you spoke, the more you realised how hopeless this was. how could you expect to put enough effort into this relationship when you only had a few weekends spare per year? how could you expect daniel to come and watch and cheer for you at each race weekend, knowing that you were living his dream and he was stuck on the sidelines? your voice faltered as it trailed off, the realisation hitting you. fuck. this was it.
âplease donât make this any harder than it needs to be, y/n.â
youâd never heard danielâs voice so quiet, with so little power behind it. you didnât know whether you were even pleased that he was as devastated as you were about all this: how could this be the right decision when neither one of you wanted it? such was the reality of this sport. you swallowed thickly - daniel was right, there was no point in drawing this out, making it difficult. you wouldnât be reduced to begging; at least you could walk away from this with your pride, if nothing else. you wiped a tear from your cheek with the heel of your free hand, the other gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white, holding onto it like a lifeline.
âno, youâre right. Iâm sorry.â you mumbled in reply, once again glancing up at the ceiling to try and stem the flow of tears. you tried not to picture daniel doing the same thing on the end of the phone; it would only make you cry again.
âIâll, uh, Iâll catch you at races and stuff, next year.â the finality in danielâs voice made you draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the aftermath. at least you and daniel had never gone public, you were grateful for that much. still, youâd been best friends in the eyes of the public, practically joined at the hip. people would notice when you no longer spent any time together. you tried to park that thought as your mind started to race; there would be time to deal with all of that later.
âyeah. Iâll see you around.â you couldnât believe this was the way it would end. Iâll see you around. as if you hadnât spent the last year and a half in each others pockets. as if every kiss and every I love you meant nothing now. as if you hadnât spent long nights planning out your future together. none of it mattered now, you realised, tears threatening to fall once again.
âI loved you, y/n. never forget that.â
it felt like your throat closed up at that, unable to dignify danielâs words with a suitable response. there was so much more you wanted to tell him, wanted to say, but you couldnât even manage to say it back. you bit your lip, letting silence fill the call for one last time, before pulling your phone away from your ear and hitting the button to hang up.
a tear hit the screen of your phone right next to the danielâs contact name, before the call ended, and his name disappeared.
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this is a prequel of sorts to always on the tip of my tongue! a glimpse into wille and simon's very first taco tuesday. eventually (like, after all of tomt is published, so basically never) this will be one part in a series of mikael pov insights into wilmon's relationship, but i wanted to share this for now! enjoy!! <333
if he likes you, he'll smile
Mikael had been working at Geronimoâs for nearly two months the day that he met Wille and Simon.Â
He didnât even think heâd be in the job that long. He had just been laid off from another corporate bullshit position and had been enjoying a proper midlife crisis when another eviction notice forced him to resort to bartending again. Geronimoâs FGT was decidedly not his kind of place. He hated how touristy the area was, hated the shitty bands the owners constantly had in for live entertainment, and more than anything, hated how monotonous the job started feeling just after a couple of weeks.Â
He wanted to quit. He was seriously considering giving his notice. He nearly did several times, but for whatever reason, he kept hesitating. It was good that he had a job for now, but he was already restless. Something was missing. Mikael didnât know what he would do or where to go next, but he couldnât shake the feeling that he was invisible here. Mikael couldnât even remember the last time he had an honest-to-God conversation with someone. In this town, the idea of him disappearing forever without a soul noticing he was gone was more reality than fear.Â
And then, one day, on a Tuesday in autumn just like any other Tuesday, Crown Prince Wilhelm sat at the bar right before him.Â
Mikael didnât give a shit about the royal family. He was surprised he even recognized him. He probably only did because Wilhelm was around the same age as Sanna, his daughter. Mikael remembered the headlines when Erik passed away. It was right after Mikael got into that last big argument with Nea before she packed everything they owned, left, and took Sanna with her. He remembered watching the videos of Erikâs funeral on the news, seeing pictures and closeups of Wilhelm, and just thinking about how young he looked.Â
He still looked young now. His hair was shorter, his face more angular, and he didnât look sad like he always did when he was on the news. Quite the opposite, really. He had another person with him tonight, a shorter boy who looked even younger, whose smile seemed so bright and genuine that Mikael almost felt blinded by it. As the two boys slid into their respective barstools, bright laughter filled the room, and Mikael thought that today would be different. He didnât know how, and he didnât know if the change he felt was necessarily a good one, but it was different.Â
He wasnât sure if he was supposed to address the prince in any sort of particular way. For a moment, he thought maybe the prince was trying to be discreet, and he shouldnât address him at all, but the pair of security staff who followed the duo inside and positioned themselves nearby made it clear that Crown Prince Wilhelm was here. Plus, people around the restaurant noticed him and started staring. All eyes Mikael could see were on Wilhelm.Â
If the attention bothered Wilhelm and the boy sitting beside him, they didnât let it show. Mikael couldnât imagine that it didnât. He felt awful for the kids. As the stares turned into whispers turned into audible speculation, Mikael felt the urge to yell at everyone to shut the fuck up and leave them alone. But if he was going to quit this job, he at least wanted to do so on good terms so he could still have references. He did not need to have to explain the fact that he was fired because he lost his temper in front of a prince to his next employers.Â
Realizing that he was staring, too, and was maybe now part of the problem, Mikael cleared his throat, leaning forward on the bar and raising his voice so Wilhelm and his friend could hear him.Â
âCan I get you boys something to drink?â Mikael asked, trying his best to sound casual and uninterested.
âWhat do you have with tequila?â Wilhelm asked. His voice was teasing, his smile playful. Mikael was caught off-guard. He hadnât spent any amount of time thinking about what the Crown Prince might be like, but this young, smiling boy was nothing like what he might have expected.Â
Mikael didnât say anything, just narrowed his eyes a little. He picked up a drink menu and placed it down in front of Wilhelm, dragging his finger around the portion of the menu that listed their cocktails and detailed which tequilas they had on the shelf.Â
Mikael watched Wilhelmâs smile twist into an amused smirk before he looked down at where Mikael was pointing.Â
âMmm, Iâll take a ginger beer, please,â Wilhelmâs friend said, reading the drink menu over Wilhelmâs shoulder. Mikael nodded and reached under the bar, opening the cooler and pulling out a glass bottle. He placed it in front of the boy, who smiled at him brightly and thanked him. Exceedingly polite.Â
Mikael took a moment to size up the princeâs companion. He certainly didnât seem royal or even royal adjacent. He looked astoundingly normal. While Wilhelm was outfitted stylishly and professionally in a collared shirt and smart sweater, the other boy came simply dressed in jeans and an old hoodie with the drawstring missing. The two boys looked like they came from two different worlds, but at the same time, there was a sort of familiarity and ease between them that felt⊠right.Â
âHow spicy is the spicy margarita?â Wilhelm asked, looking up at Mikael with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that Mikael didnât quite know what to do with.Â
âNo. No, Wille,â the boy cut in before Mikael could even open his mouth to answer. âYou canât keep pretending you like spicy things. Youâll take two sips, spend the rest of dinner complaining about it, and end up wasting the entire drink.â
âYou donât know that,â Wilhelm grumbled, pouting dramatically as he looked back down at the menu.Â
Mikael had to bite back a chuckle. It was amusing how comfortable the boys seemed with each other. The boy called the prince Wille and teased him knowingly. It was strange, seeing someone so famous casually sat in front of him, so strikingly human. Mikael felt drawn to the prince and his friend, almost like he was a part of their world. Or, maybe stranger, that they were a part of his.Â
âIâll order the House Margarita if you can tell me whatâs in Geronimoâs Secret Margarita Mix,â Wilhelm said, looking at Mikael with that same playful smile that continued to catch him off guard.Â
âItâs written in the employee handbook that if we tell someone, we have to kill them,â Mikael said, without thinking. He had a moment of doubt when he thought that maybe threatening violence against a prince might not be the smartest move, but at Wilhelmâs widening smile, he continued. âIt also explicitly states that we do not grant exceptions regardless of rank. The only way one can learn the secret of the Margarita Mix is if they have concerns about allergens.âÂ
Wilhelmâs friend laughed at that, beaming at Mikael with a thousand-watt smile.Â
âOh, I like you already,â he said. The boy looked at Mikael closer now, considering him in the same careful way Mikael had just done with him. After so much thought about how working in this part of Stockholm made him seem invisible, in this moment, he felt almost unnervingly seen. âIâm Simon. Best friend of Wille. Official title. Whatâs your name?â
Still apprehensive, Mikael just pointed to his chest, where a nametag was pinned to his apron.Â
âMikael,â Wilhelm read, grinning wide.
âGood, he can read,â Mikael muttered to himself before he had a second to think better of it.Â
His gaze flickered over to Simon, who looked like a kid at a candy store. Clearly, he was delighted that Mikael was instantly willing to poke fun at Wilhelm. Mikael didnât know why he was chasing the approval of this⊠kid. Especially at the expense of the actual Crown Prince of their country. It was something to do with Simonâs smile, Mikael thought. It felt familiar. It reminded him of Sanna.Â
Mikael knew his face fell at that realization. He also knew that Simon had caught it, and Mikael watched as his smile faltered, but only for a fraction of a second.Â
âLiteracy is one of his better qualities,â Simon said to Mikael, glancing over at Wilhelm with a fond roll of his eyes.Â
âItâs âGang Up on Willeâ day, huh?â Wilhelm muttered, looking up briefly to glare at Simon. Simon just laughed lightly, looking down at the food menu the hostess had given them when they first sat down.Â
Someone in Mikaelâs position would have to be blind not to notice the rush of pink on Simonâs cheeks. Mikael remembered what it was like to be that age, no older than nineteen or twenty if Mikael had to guess. He recognized Simonâs exact blush from his early memories of Nea.Â
Mikael wasnât ready to make any assumptions, but he was briefly curious. He thought he would have heard something if the prince was gay. Or bisexual or whatever, Mikael didnât know. Then again, maybe they were trying to be discreet. But, Mikael thought, there were definitely places more discreet than a busy restaurant in the middle of Gamla stan, just minutes away from the royal palace.Â
So, they were probably best friends. Still, Mikael noticed the way Simon looked at Wilhelm, like he had just hung the moon. It wasnât nothing.Â
None of his business, though.Â
âIâll have the House Margarita. Salted rim, please. For now, you can keep your secrets,â Wilhelm said, smiling at Mikael again. âBut next time, Iâll find a way to get you to tell me while also sparing my precious life.â Â
âPrecious,â Mikael scoffed, causing Simon to let out another breath of laughter.Â
Mikael opened his mouth to ask to see Wilhelmâs ID before he stopped short. Do members of the royal family even carry identification? Mikael knew Wilhelm was over eighteen, but he was still legally required to ask. Unless there was an exception for princes? He didnât think there would be, but he also had no reason to know. Would Wilhelm get mad at him for asking? He couldnât help but glance over to the security guards, who, admittedly, looked terrifying.Â
Mikael thought back to how he wanted to quit this job before they fired him. He did not want to have to tell the story of how he was fired for not carding the Crown Prince.Â
âCan I see your ID?â Mikael asked, keeping his expression as neutral as possible.Â
Wilhelm looked surprised for a moment, but he instantly reached into his pocket to remove his wallet and his ID, which, apparently, he did carry with him. That was good to know.Â
âIâve never seen you get carded before,â Simon said to Wilhelm, beaming ear to ear. âThis is the best day of my life. I hope the food is good, Wille. This might finally be our place. It feels right.âÂ
Mikael glanced down at Wilhelmâs ID (which was weird, so extremely weird. Wilhelm had so many names and probably the nicest picture Mikael had ever seen on an ID) before handing it back to him wordlessly.Â
Mikael set to work making Wilhelmâs drink, thinking that their interaction was over for now, but Simon spoke up again, surprising him.
âSo, Mikael,â Simon said, his voice curious and friendly. âHave you always lived in Stockholm?âÂ
The answer to the question was no, but Mikael was a very private guy. He didnât want strangers asking him personal questions. It was none of their business. Especially not the princeâs.Â
Mikael finished pouring the last of the ingredients into his cocktail shaker before answering Simonâs question with a frown and a shrug. It wasnât a yes or a noâit was just an acknowledgment. Simon seemed to take the hint, and he just smiled at him with a nod. Understanding, gracious, unnervingly kind.Â
Simon and Wilhelm were quiet while Mikael finished making the drink. They looked around, admiring the space. For all of its faults, Geronimoâs FGT was fun. Decked out in colorful textiles, weird bird taxidermy, and neon cacti, the place felt like a fever dream interpretation of the American Southwest. Mikael did love it, and so, as it would seem, did Simon and Wilhelm, who each wore small, pleased smiles on their faces as they took in the atmosphere of Geronimoâs.Â
Giving the margarita a few good shakes, Mikael poured it into a mason jar with a salted rim and slid the drink over to Wilhelm, who thanked him profusely and wasted no time downing half the drink with one prolonged sip. Â
âNectar of the godsâŠâ Wilhelm mused, putting the jar down with a satisfied sigh. Mikael still didnât know quite what to make of Wilhelm, but he thought that he liked him. Or, at least, he was pleased that the prince seemed to approve of his bartending skills.Â
âAnything to eat?â Mikael asked, using both his hands to point at the pair of menus in front of Wilhelm and Simon.Â
âItâs Tuesday, so definitely tacos,â Wilhelm said, with so much enthusiasm.Â
âWhich tacos would you recommend?â Simon asked, looking up from his menu to Mikael.Â
âTheyâre all fucking great,â Mikael said, truthfully. Since starting here, Mikael had tried and enjoyed pretty much the entire menu. âBirria are good. Fish, too.âÂ
Mikael watched Simon and Wilhelm exchange a look, wordlessly communicating before Simon nodded and grinned, turning back to Mikael.Â
âPerfect, weâll try those,â Simon said, before glancing back at Wilhelm. âAnd weâll split them so we can both try both.âÂ
âAnd queso, too. Please. As much as youâre willing to give us,â Wilhelm added, before doing something weird with his eyes. Mikael thought Wilhelm might have been trying to wink, but he wasnât sure. He might just have something really wrong with his vision.Â
Mikael left to put in their food orders, and then, a little reluctantly, went back to work. As much as his curiosity made him want to linger by Wilhelm and Simon, there were other patrons sitting at his bar, and more drink orders coming in for him to work on. Even if he had literal royalty at his bar, Mikael couldnât afford to give them all of his attention. He was cutting his rent a little too close as is.Â
While Mikael was able to busy himself with the Taco Tuesday crowd, he did occasionally try to listen in to Simon and Wilhelmâs conversation, just to get a better idea as to what their deal was. He wanted to know why they were here, of all places.
It sounded like they were catching up on the past week or so of their lives. Simon must have been a student, probably here in Stockholm, as he spent most of his meal talking animatedly to Wilhelm about various classes and professors. Wilhelm was listening intently, nodding along and peppering in questions and comments throughout.Â
Mikael realized that their appearance at Geronimoâs was really quite simple. Wilhelm and Simon were two friends, meeting for dinner to catch up on each otherâs lives. There was nothing fancy, no royal banquets or expensive wines or anything. Just two friends sat at a bar, eating tacos and talking about their day.Â
It was⊠endearing.Â
When it was getting late, and their plates were all but licked clean, Mikael approached Wilhelm and Simon again, leaning against the bar opposite them. He offered them a sort of smile, a slight purse of his lips that was just about as friendly as his face could get.Â
âGood?â
âFucking great,â Wilhelm grinned, repeating Mikaelâs praise from earlier.Â
Giving the boys a satisfied nod, Mikael placed the bill between Simon and Wilhelm. Simon let out a loud bark of laughter before pushing the bill directly to Wilhelm.Â
âWhy do I always get stuck paying?â Wilhelm said, teasingly. Still, he didnât hesitate to immediately take out his wallet and hand Mikael a card, smiling politely all the while.Â
âWilhelm, do not get me started today. You are already on such thin ice,â Simon said, his voice surprisingly serious. Simon must have had plenty of thoughts on the excessive amount of cash Wilhelm surely had at his disposal. It was surprisingâin a good way, Mikael thought. Wilhelm seemed to have a friend with a good head on his shoulders. Polite, engaging, and willing to challenge him.Â
Mikael really, really liked this Simon kid.Â
He also really, really missed Sanna.
Mikael ran Wilhelmâs card and returned it to him. Wilhelm pocketed his wallet, thanked Mikael again, and then started to get up.Â
âYouâll be working next week, right Mikael?â Simon asked as he stood. Mikael was surprised at the question and didnât answer right away. He just stared at Simon for a prolonged moment, raising an eyebrow. âNext Taco Tuesday. Weâll see you here again. Next week?âÂ
Mikael shrugged and smiled a little. He supposed he would stick around until next week, at least, if that meant seeing Wilhelm and Simon again. He was still curious about them. He wanted to listen to them more and try to understand them better.Â
âNext week, then,â Wilhelm smiled. He crinkled his eyes in that weird and awkward way againâprobably a wink. Then, with a final wave, they left Geronimoâs, security detail in tow.Â
Suddenly, Mikaelâs monotonous job felt like the most interesting place in the entire country. Maybe Mikael would quit next week.Â
But for now, heâd stay. Make a couple of margaritas. Eat a few more tacos. Have a fucking good time.Â
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Speak Now (Hotch's Version)
Chapter Three: Haunted
"Don't go, don't go, don't leave me like this..."
Word Count: 1,400 (another short one, sorry!)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Warnings: Criminal Minds level of violence, gunshots mentioned, reader gets injured
Previous chapter / Next chapter
Eight months had passed since youâve started dating Aaron, and you couldnât be happier. You had met Jess a few weeks into dating, and a few weeks later, you met Jack. You adored the kid and he always seemed happy when you were around, which made Aaron happy, which made you even happier. You had now been a part of the BAU for almost nine months now, and you were happy. Things were never better.Â
You had spent the night at Aaronâs the night before, due to the water in your apartment building being shut off. You had gotten back from a long case, Jack at Jessâs, and you barely even remember walking through the door a little after midnight- just to be woken at four oâclock with another case.Â
âDo we have to?â You whined as you rolled over, and you draped yourself across Aaron as you felt him start to sit up. Aaron carded his fingers through your hair, a tired chuckle leaving his lips, and he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.Â
âI know,â Aaronâs voice was soothing, deep and raspy from just waking up. âHopefully you can sleep on the jet.â You mumbled some incoherent response and dragged yourself out of bed. God you hated these early morning calls. You stumbled through your getting ready routine, and you sipped at the coffee clutched in your hands like it was a lifeline.Â
Not even an hour later, you were on the plane for a flight to Los Angeles. You laid on the couch, your legs draped over Emilyâs lap. Aaron was half asleep, head leaned against his window, and the usual antics you and your teammates got into were abandoned for rest. You had a feeling this case, a serial killer who abducts his victims then holds them for a few days of torture before brutally killing them on the fourth day. You had a feeling this would be another long, hard case.Â
And you were so, so right. Word had gotten out that the BAU was working the case, and your unsub went silent for nearly two weeks. On day eleven, he acted again and he had devolved exponentially. Two bodies were found in the alley near the precinct, and none of the nearby cameras got a clear enough image to identify the unsub. You hadnât seen anything like it in your time at the FBI, let alone the short time youâve been in the BAU, and you felt discouraged. This was a mutual feeling across the board with the team, and you could feel the tension as you walked into a room. It was hard enough to mask your feelings when talking to families and local detectives, and you could barely hide your frustrations with the case when you walked into your hotel.Â
âDo you want to shower first?â Aaron asked and you shrugged as you fell face first into your bed.Â
âWanna shower but also just want to melt into this mattress and not get back up,â you said, your voice muffled by the comforter. âYou can shower first, I just. I need quiet and the shower feels too loud right now.â Aaronâs footsteps sounded through the room, followed by the click of a light switch. The room was enveloped into darkness, and a second later, the bathroom light was turned on, giving a light glow to the room. âThank you.â
âDo you need anything else?â Aaron asked and you thought for a moment.
ââM okay. Thank you,â you turned your head to offer a small smile to Aaron and winced as your head throbbed.Â
âMigraine?â Aaron asked as he walked over to his suitcase and you groaned in response. âNeed water?â
âNuh uh,â you said and Aaron took your hand before he tucked two pills into your hand.Â
âIâll be quick, then you can shower. Hopefully get some sleep,â Aaron pressed a kiss to your hair and you leaned into the touch. Aaron gently rubbed your shoulder once before he walked to the shower, the door shutting behind him, and you welcomed the darkness. You sat up to swallow the pills and hoped youâd at least get a little sleep tonight.
As if your body had read your mind, you barely got any sleep last night. The migraine had dissipated to an easily ignored ache, but your brain refused to shut off. There was so much noise outside your hotel, Aaronâs usually happily welcomed cuddling tendencies had become too much sensory wise, and you were stressed. You clutched your thermos as if your life depended on it, and you felt seconds from snapping at the next person that breathed in your direction. You, Aaron, and Emily were in the SUV to follow a new lead and Emilyâs humming in the backseat was slowly grating at your nerves.Â
âCan you just? Shut up for one minute?â You snapped and Aaron glanced over at you with a concerned frown and Emily hesitated, taken aback by your tone. Aaron said your name and you barely fought the urge to huff like a scolded child. âIâm sorry, I just donât get what there is to be humming about right now. This is a shit case and I donât mean to be an ass, but-â You were cut off by Aaron saying your name again, this time in his âbossâ voice.Â
âThatâs enough. If you canât control yourself better than this, Iâll send a cab to take you back to the hotel. We donât need you out in the field today if you canât control your temper.âÂ
âI can handle it, sir.â You didnât mean to be sarcastic, but the words slipped before you even processed what you were saying. Aaron put the SUV into park as you reached the house you would be checking out, and Aaronâs jaw was clenched. âIâm sorry,â you said, but you knew it was too late.Â
âWeâll discuss this later. Stay in the car, we shouldnât be long.â Aaron said and he started to get out of the car. Emily followed and you leaned back in your seat, drinking some more of your coffee that now tasted sour. Grounded to the car, like a child. You took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down and sat in silence for a few minutes.Â
-
âIs everything okay?â Emily asked and Aaron let out a slow breath. The house looked empty and the two spoke in faint whispers as they did another light sweep.Â
âTheyâre just⊠overwhelmed. Doesnât excuse it, but tensions are high. Itâs nothing personal.â Aaron said. Another clear pass through the second floor and the two agents made their way downstairs. When another sweep of the downstairs revealed nothing, Aaron and Emily started to make their way outside until BANG BANG BANG. The sound of gunshots had Emily and Aaron ducking, and Aaron covering Emily.Â
âIt came from outside,â Emily whispered in horror and Aaronâs heart stopped. Aaron ran outside and his years of training were almost forgotten at that moment. The SUV door was opened, and the unsub stood over a body a few yards away, gun in hand. Aaron barely recognized the body as your own before he raised his own gun, a shot to the chest sending the unsub to the ground. A weak cough sounded and Aaron ran to you, immediately dropping to his knees.
âNo, no, no, no, no,â Aaron mumbled and your eyes were hazy as they met his. âHey, hey. Stay focused on me, okay?â Aaronâs voice wavered and your breath hitched as your eyes watered. Aaron pressed his hands to your wounds, hoping to slow the bleeding until medical could get there. He just had to keep you alive until then, just had to keep you talking.
âI, I saw him- Tried to, to get away. Couldnât⊠couldnât let him. M sorry for leavinâ the car.â Your eyes blinked a few times, like you were trying to focus. âCold.â
âI know, I know. Youâll be taken care of soon, and theyâll fix it. Youâll be okay, you just have to stay awake. Just a little longer,â Aaron pleaded and your hand reached out for his. You rested your hand on top of his own, your speech slurring.Â
âLove.. you⊠Aaron.â
âI love you, too,â A choked cry left Aaronâs lips and the sound of sirens sounded faint as they started to approach. âHey, hey, keep your eyes open.â A panicked cry of your name was the last thing you heard as you slipped into darkness.
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hey! just have a quick question about getting into qprs... i have this person i've known for about 2-3 years now and i'd absolutely love to get into a qpr with them; i've tried to hint at it in the past but my autistic ass can't figure out how to say it and have them pick it up (they've never noticed any of my hints before) without explicitly asking "hey have you heard of this thing called a queer-platonic relationship before? yeah i want to do that with you", as that'd just be awkward and i have nowhere fucking near the confidence to do that with all my anxiety and whatnot. essentially i'm asking for your wisdom on how to suggest it to someone without explicitly saying that and with truckloads more anxiety than the average person. any help will be much appreciated, but keep in mind that autism bars a lot of stuff, including the ability to properly judge social situations (this is one area where i particularly struggle). thank you!!
Heya!
I've said it in the past in response to some other asks, but my partner was the one who suggested the idea of a QPR to me, not the other way around (I had no idea what QPRs were at the time), so... I'm not the best person to give advice on this TwT Of course it doesn't help that every person is different and that there's no guarantee that what works for a person will necessarily work for another...
I will say this though, in case it helps in any way: my partner had known me for a year and a half before they offered the idea, and apparently they'd wanted to offer it within just a couple months of starting to talk to me. Thing is, I'd made it clear early on that I'm not interested in romance or sex (as an aroace it's kind of something I'd built a reflex to let everyone know, at that point, so people wouldn't build expectations on me), so they might've thought even the idea of a QPR might make me wanna distance myself... But no, actually, I took it like it was a completely natural consequence with the most anticlimatic "OK sure sounds cool" imaginable.
But most importantly... "Hey have you heard of this thing called a queer-platonic relationship before? yeah i want to do that with you" IS pretty much exactly how they asked me, and that went well. If there's anything that I can offer as advice or comfort, it's that very fact. I can tell you from experience that it didn't make things awkward for me at all. The confidence part of course is another whole issue that I don't wanna downplay, though I'm not really sure what to offer as an alternative... TwT But I hope whatever you go for, it'll work out well for you in the end.
Here's pretty much word for word how it went for us, if it helps at all as well! There definitely was some tension whiplash to bear with, and some discussions that followed to see where that really left us, but in the end, we really are vibing^^ And personally, I feel there's nothing that works better than actually speaking from the heart and sincerely, as terrifying (and socially dangerous) as that can be sometimes. It can slam back in your face sometimes, I won't deny that, but it can also help a great deal other times, and in my experience, it gets easier the more you do it. Heck, I know it's easier said than done TwT But that's the most sincere thing I could say about that.
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