#AND I need to get to sleep at a reasonable hour for work in the morning the next day

[elliewithcellie]

Protector

summary: After months working for the BAU, your harbored feelings for your boss seem unrequited until your hunt for the unsub goes awry. (hotch x fem!reader)

wc: 9.8k (oh my god)

cw: slow burn, boss/employee dynamic, age gap pairing, criminal minds level violence, mention of alcoholism, implication of father issues, hurt/comfort, reader gets hurt, fluff, angst, SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral (f receiving), p in v sex, Hotch is a professional at heart and takes work boundaries seriously

a/n: Back in the saddle with a new man to hyper-fixate on. Hotch can GET IT. Also, let me know if anyone wants the SFW version I'm working on

“Looks like we’re doubling up,” Hotch announced, a sigh escaping his lips.

Before you could even process his words, the rest of the team sounded off, choosing their roommates for the duration of the case. All that remained were you and your boss. With the team dispersing, you awkwardly shifted your duffle bag to your other shoulder and looked up at Hotch.

His stern expression didn’t change as he looked back at you. “Come on. We’re 202.”

You followed him to the elevators, still unsure what to think. This was not only your boss but someone you had garnered quite a fondness for since you joined the BAU. Of course, you had managed yourself professionally thus far, but you were sure this was going to test your limits.

You understood the immediate pairings among the rest of the team. You were still fairly new, not quite to the rapport that the team had formed with each other. But it also made you think about how no one chose Hotch. The pressure to be Unit Chief also had to be lonely.

The elevator chimed, and the two of you shuffled in. You kept to yourself, trying to maintain composure. The lift from the first floor to the second felt like an hour, the silence deafening. You couldn’t shake your nerves. The doors opened, and he stepped out. You quickly followed.

Hotch opened the door and allowed you in first. The two double beds, office chair, mini fridge, and small bathroom were all less comforting to you than normal.

“Do you mind if I take the bed by the door?” Hotch asked, his voice softer than usual.

You blinked up at him, stirred from your preoccupation. “Yeah, of course. I like the window side anyway.”

“Thank you. If you’d like, you can have the shower first. I’d like to call Jack before he heads to bed.”

“Sounds good.”

You began to unpack your belongings and sighed in dismay. You had assumed that you would have a room to yourself as usual, so your pajamas were a little more revealing than you’d prefer your boss to see. Still, a t-shirt and shorts were reasonable sleep attire, so you tried not to dwell on it. You collected your things as Hotch dialed a number on his phone.

“Hey, buddy, how was your day?”

You smiled to yourself as you entered the bathroom. His “dad” voice was more upbeat, yet calm and soothing. With Hotch distracted on the phone, you could relax in the shower. The boiling water stung your skin, just the way you needed it. As you relaxed, you realized how silly it was for you to stress over the rooming situation. Hotch was here to do his job, just like you. And other than his intelligence, his kindness, and his fierce compassion for kids, you were sure you were only infatuated with him.

You finished up your shower and towel-dried your hair once you could no longer hear his muffled voice through the door. You were desperate not to waste Hotch’s time. With your hair still wet and your large t-shirt hanging over your shorts, you timidly exited the bathroom back to your bed, on your toes as if you were sneaking around. Hotch sat on his bed, his coat jacket now on the desk chair. He flipped through channels with the remote in one hand and loosened his tie with the other.

“All yours,” you spoke, struggling to get the words out.

Hotch looked up at you and gave a small smile. “Thanks.” He gathered up his things and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Another sigh of relief left your lips. You grabbed the book from your duffle and climbed into bed. You rolled over to turn on the lamp next to you and began to read, but before you knew it, sleep overtook you.

------

“Hotchner.”

You woke up to Hotch answering his phone. The sky was still dark. The only light illuminating the room was the alarm clock. You realized that you hadn’t turned off the lamp before you fell asleep, nor did you place your book carefully on the side table with a hotel pen as the bookmark.

“Alright. Yes. Right. Understood. We’ll be right over.”

You looked up at Hotch expectantly. He looked at you, then averted his eyes as he got out of bed. “Another young girl missing. She’s only 16.” He paced the floor for a moment, a short-lived break from the stoic leader he always has to be.

“I’ll call the others,” you said sitting up. His eyes returned to yours, the strain turning into relief. He only nodded and headed for the closet, suiting up right there.

You called the others and followed suit, leaving the hotel parking lot by 3:46 am.

------

The next 18 hours were long, stressful, and only moderately successful. The team was able to work out an arrangement with the kidnapper before their 24 hours were up. The girl, Heather, was returned to her parents with only a few bruises. But the kidnapper got away, practically goading you all at the ability to remain anonymous. The team was exhausted and out of ideas.

The team drove back to the hotel without a single word exchanged. The kidnapper’s voice rang in your head. He was so confident, arrogant even. There was almost never a moment where he fumbled over his words or cracked. His ruse lasted for hours. But he got sloppy in the end, fessing up to her location just enough for Garcia to triangulate. But something wasn’t adding up to you: his willingness to run instead of killing her when he had the chance.

Hotch spoke up, stirring you from your ruminations. “We need to start from scratch. Reid, give us a rundown on what, where, and why.”

“Well, we know his victims are all young women now ranging from 16 to 23. They come from middle to upper-class families. He sends messages to the families always demanding ransom within 24 hours. Three women have been killed, and now two have survived. The strange part is whether or not he stays truthful to his word. The parents have always given him what he wants, but then it’s up to his discretion whether he follows through.”

 “Based on these girls,” Prentiss interjected, “this guy’s intelligent. He prides himself on the ability to get away with this.”

“That’s good,” Hotch said, eyes still on the road. “But why work with us sometimes and not others?

The SUV hummed as its passengers sat in silence.   

You decided to speak up. “Prentiss said he prides himself on the ability to get away with this, right?” Everyone sat still, expectant for you to continue. “We’re looking at this the wrong way. This isn’t a sadist who gets off on killing. This isn’t a psychopath with a compulsion. This is a narcissistic sociopath who has been evading capture for weeks now. This is a game to him. It’s a game he knows he can win.”

“Which is why when he’s pressured, he releases the girl.” Hotch nodded along.

“He can take a loss where he can because, to him, the ultimate win is to not get caught,” Reid agreed.

“Great work,” Hotch said, parking the car. “You guys head in and get some good sleep. I’ll fill in the other van. Be ready for a big day of planning.”

You walked up with Reid and Prentiss, a small smile refusing to leave your lips. You cracked it, you thought to yourself.

Your two teammates teased each other up to the rooms, you following close behind. You weren’t the type to inject yourself into other people’s conversations, which ended up making it hard to connect with them. It was as if you had been adopted into a family that has known each other their whole lives. You were respected, sure, so there was no need to complain. You just wished that you could make jokes with them and have the levity they had during intense cases like this.

Still, even hearing your teammates laugh was enough for you tonight. You longed for a moment longer, but they said their goodnights and headed off.

You entered your room, much more relaxed than the night before. You had yourself all worked up, and for what? You gathered your things and headed to the shower, sure that Hotch wasn’t far behind and would call his son again.

As you exited the bathroom, Hotch entered the room. You jumped despite yourself.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

“It’s ok,” was all you said in response. You returned your things to your bag and slid into bed. You turned on the lamp and began reading while Hotch took his turn in the shower.

You were still reading when he returned, the book more interesting now than it was the night before. You glanced up only for a moment. Hotch wore striped pajama pants tonight, contrasted to the boxers you accidentally noticed earlier that morning. You looked back at your book but couldn’t read it. Your mind wandered to the message Hotch could be sending. Maybe your shorts were inappropriate. Maybe you weren’t meant to see his boxer shorts at all. Maybe he was just cold.

“Good work today,” Hotch said, interrupting your thoughts.

You smiled up at him. “It was a team effort.”

“We may have never come to the conclusion you did. Take the compliment.” Hotch’s lips raised to a subtle smirk, something you’ve only seen a handful of times and certainly never directed toward you.

“Yes, sir,” you said. “Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your eyes drifted back to your book.

“What’s your book about?”

Was Hotch trying to make conversation with you? True, it wasn’t as late as yesterday’s arrival, but in all of your months of working for the BAU, any discussion with the team had been strictly professional. Still, you blushed at the question.

“It’s a romance,” you confessed.

“I have to say,” Hotch began, “I’ve never read a romance novel. What about it appeals to you?”

You thought for a moment. “I guess it’s the suspension of disbelief. The relief to enter a reality where people love in big, romantic ways. Don’t you ever want to get swept off your feet?”

You cringed at the question, debating on whether it was appropriate to ask your superior about romance.

“I think I’d rather do the sweeping,” Hotch said thoughtfully.

You smiled at his words.

“You don’t think people love in romantic ways in this reality?” Hotch asked, looking up at the ceiling. His breaths were calm, and his face seemed to soften from serious to curious.

“I don’t know,” you said sincerely. “My sister is about to marry a real stand-up guy. He’s caring and has a good family who loves her, too. It’s one of those one-and-done fairy tale deals. Like truly made for each other. But I wouldn’t say that’s the norm. It’s not my norm, at least. So, yeah, I guess you could say I’m skeptical.”

You crossed your legs and fiddled with your thumbs. You tried not to reflect on your history, tried not to give any clue to your boss of your true beliefs. It didn’t ultimately matter to the conversation, anyway. The silence stewed as it stirred up new thoughts and old patterns, feeling yourself shut down the conversation. You didn’t mean to. You hated being seen as the one that was boring outside of work. The one that wasn’t friendly enough to get to know.

“I’m sure you don’t know,” Hotch began again, shaking you from your anxious thoughts, “but bringing up your sister reminded me that I met your dad a few years ago.”

You shot up. “You know about him?” You covered your face with your hands.

“He was nationally awarded for his work in counterterrorism. Of course, I know about him.” He laughed softly, a sound you weren’t used to but would never complain to hear it again. “I met him on a job in Bakersfield. He knew the town like the back of his hand. Is he why you joined?”

“In a roundabout way,” you sighed.

“He brought up his girls every chance he could.” Hotch smiled and turned to face you. “One was a soccer star in South Carolina on track to be a doctor. One was a track star a semester away from graduating with honors and applying to Physician Assistant programs, I believe.”

“My sisters are overachievers,” you said.

“Then it’s you he talked about the most. The musician, the future psychologist, the one who found fascination with the minute details of life.”

“My dad said all that?”

“He did. He had offered us beers when it was all over, and he shared photos of you all. You’re certainly much more grown now.” He chuckled.

Your cheeks flushed red at the comment.

“I showed him Jack playing tee-ball, and we both shared some stories before it was time to go. He had some great advice to give.”

“I’m sure he did,” you mumbled. “Sir, I don’t want you to think I got in because of him. He didn’t know until I made it to Quantico. I mean, yes, he always pushed the army and West Point like him, but I did this all on my own, Mr. Hotchner, I swear.”

“Hotch is fine,” he gently corrected. “I’m not worried about where you came from. I knew the entire time. But your qualifications are what got you on the team, not your father. Keep up the good work, and I’ll continue to remember that.”

“Yes, sir.” You thought to yourself for a moment. The candor of the conversation may have added to your bravery in this moment. “Hotch?”

He raised his eyebrows to imply he was listening.

“Umm, Is there anything that I can do to, like… never mind. I’m about to sound pathetic.” You huffed back down into your pillow. You couldn’t believe you were about to ask Hotch how to make friends.

“They’ll warm up to you, just like you’ll warm up to them. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and I’m sure they’ll see you for who you are.”

You sighed again. Of course, he knew what you were stressing about. He’s the chief profiler after all.

“I’ll let you read now,” Hotch said, getting up from bed. “I’m going to call Jack.”

You gave a small smile and nodded, and he left the room.

------

You woke up the next morning to Hotch returning to the room, two disposable coffee cups and a case file in his hands.

You jerked up from bed. “Am I late?” you asked, scared you slept through the alarm.

“No, no,” he said, walking over to you. “I’m early. Coffee?”

He held out one of the cups to you. You gently accepted.

“Thank you.” You looked over at the clock. 5:54. You rubbed your eyes. “Are you always up this early?”

“On the job, yes,” he said with no inflection. “Much to think about, and much to be done.” He sat back on his bed and reviewed the file you knew he had reviewed countless times. If he was anything like you, he was searching for some hidden puzzle piece, something that the team must have missed to solve the case once and for all. But it was never that easy. Still, maybe some fresh eyes could help.

You slid out of your bed and rested on top of his. “Can I help?”

“Be my guest.” He shifted the file your way for a better vantage point. You crossed your legs and sipped your coffee before getting to work.

You found yourself lost in thought, jotting down those thoughts in the margins. It helped to visualize your connections, even drawing physical lines to connect them. You noticed that the most recent girl didn’t fit the age range of the others, 19-23. You dug deeper, making a note to ask Garcia to run the connection between all of these girls. College? you wrote. There was a college campus within ten minutes of the hotel. One more thing struck you. All of the victims had their hair up in a high ponytail. You weren’t sure how that was associated yet, but you wrote beside each of the photos anyway.

As the early sun began to rise, you grew brutally aware of Hotch’s presence. His body leaned closer to yours, and you felt his eyes sear into your skin. You grew distracted, your mind wandering to the fact that you were wearing only a loose shirt and small shorts in Hotch’s bed. Was he noticing the same thing? Was this a breach of professionalism? Were you making him uncomfortable? Against all your will, you felt your body temperature rise in the form of a blush.

The alarm clock rang out, pulling both Hotch and your attention. You stretched over to turn it off.

“I’ll let you get ready,” Hotch said, jumping out of bed. He headed to the door, refusing to meet your gaze. “Meet me downstairs?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, slightly surprised by the questioning tone of your superior. He nodded and left the room before another word could be spoken.

-------

In the conference room of the local police station sat the team, all watching Hotch interact with the captain of the squad through the glass. You stayed facing the table with your head low. You couldn’t help the bounce of your leg. While the others inferred the conversation outside, your mind had fixated on the morning’s events. The heat of your boss’s breath had tattooed your skin, a branding to the back of your neck. The intimacy, the closeness, and then the flustered nature Hotch left in replayed in your mind. You couldn’t look at him until you could properly collect yourself.

“What’s on your mind, kiddo?” Morgan asked. Your head shot up. All eyes were on you now. You failed to hide the rouging in your cheeks.

“Nothing.” You shrugged, though you knew the contradiction in your body language.

JJ chuckled. “Nothing? You’re so tense, so distracted.”

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?” Morgan asked again, a smile growing on his face. “Hotch keeping you up all night?”

You flinched at his name. You couldn’t help it, but you outed yourself all the same.

“No, I slept fine. I swear.”

“You flinched!” Prentiss laughed and pointed. “It is about Hotch, isn’t it?”

“Leave the poor girl alone,” Rossi said, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.

“Hon, you better tell us what happened in the next three seconds.” Derek swatted at Spencer’s chest. “Reid, help us out, here.”

“Based on the months we’ve known her, she tends to—”

 “Don’t you start profiling me, Reid.” You glared at Spencer across the table.

His arms shot up in the air as if to surrender, but a smirk remained on his face. “All I’m saying is that I know the physical signs of a crush when I see one.”

Your jaw dropped. The conference room filled with laughter.

“Leave her alone!” Garcia yelled from behind you. “She’s our sensitive little one!”

“I’m not 5,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. Penelope hugged you from behind as if to protect you from the others. The others continued to laugh, causing you to smile despite yourself. Morgan took a photo of you and Garcia, and warmth spread through you. Even with all the teasing, being here with the team felt good.

Just then Hotch rushed through the door. “Alright, let’s be seated and get to work. We have a big day ahead of us.” Garcia took her seat, but Hotch stayed standing, opting to position himself in front of the whiteboard. “After speaking with the captain and going through the case file with Y/N this morning, I determined our best attack on the situation. Though, it is rather unorthodox.”

The rest of the team stayed silent, waiting for the punchline. Hotch continued. “What do we know about our killer better than anything? His victimology. We know that he goes after girls and young women aged 16-23. They are middle to upper-class, and not the type to find themselves in trouble. Now, who do we all know who fits this very description?”

“Y/N,” Reid said.

All eyes returned to you, this time with a seriousness looming in the air.

“If we don’t want any other kidnappings, we need to give him what he wants. Going after the 16-year-old was off for him. He’s devolving. Which means we need to act fast before he kills again. This is the only way we can approach this head-on.”

“Hotch,” Emily began, “with all due respect, let me take this on. Or JJ. JJ has experience.”

“With his victimology going as low as 16 now, it should be someone who looks the part,” Reid replied.

“She’s just a kid, Hotch.” Morgan reached his hand toward your shoulder, but you gently nudged it away.

“But I’m not a kid at all,” you spoke up. “I have two degrees and the same job as the rest of you. I know I’m young and look younger, but I’m qualified. If my appearance can be used to put this guy away, then let me help. Let me do my job.” You looked up at Hotch, a sudden confidence flowing through your veins. “What do you need me to do?”

-------

For the rest of the day, the team helped you prepare for your role as a 22-year-old college student. The team strategized and planned, desperate to ensure your safety. Everyone added their two cents, but you were happy to receive all the insight you were given. You weren’t going to screw this up for them.

You, Hotch, Prentiss, and Morgan returned to the hotel to pick among your belongings to dress the part. Rossi, Reid, and JJ stayed behind with Garcia to set up intel at the station.

“The shorts you wore to bed,” Hotch began, “go put those on while we find a sweatshirt or jacket. In fact, wear the shirt you wore, too. The size could conceal the mic better.”

You nodded and grabbed your things before heading into the bathroom. It was not lost on you that your boss was thoroughly aware of your pajama situation, but due to the pivotal role you were to perform, it was easier to focus on the task at hand.

You returned from the bathroom where Emily greeted you with the mic. You lifted your arms, allowing Emily to snake the mic underneath your shirt, securing it to your sternum with sports tape. While doing so, Hotch and Morgan returned with a single sweatshirt in Morgan’s hand. It was grungy and old, not quite the goal aesthetic.

Still, Morgan handed it to you to try on. The three profilers evaluated your look.

“This isn’t gonna work,” Morgan said. Prentiss pinched her eyebrows together in dismay. Hotch stayed staring.

“Take off the sweatshirt,” Hotch ordered. “I think I have something better.”

You did as he said while he rummaged through his duffle bag. He pulled out a quarter zip of excellent quality, something he only wears on a successful plane ride home.

“Put it on.”

You didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions. It was a large fit, hanging just above the hem of your shorts and the sleeves landing at your fingertips. The three of them looked at you, then to their reference photos, then back at you. Something was missing.

“Call Reid. Maybe he can find any other similarity we’re missing,” Hotch said.

“No, I got it.” You remembered the notes you made earlier that morning. You took the hair tie from your wrist and pulled your hair up into a high ponytail. “Now, what do you think?”

“That’s it,” Morgan said.

“And just in time,” Emily noted, “We gotta get you to the college fast.”

On the ride to the school, Hotch reiterated the goals in place.

“All you need to do is walk across campus using the roads. Keep to yourself, and most importantly, do not—and I mean it—do NOT, get into the vehicle under any circumstances. Stall him, flirt with him, do anything you can to keep him in place. We’ll be right there. Got it?”

“Yes, sir. I got it.”

“We’re counting on you.”

“Good luck.” Prentiss smiled with seriousness behind her eyes.

Morgan grabbed your shoulder, turning you around. “Be smart, kiddo.”

You returned a small smile and left the van to venture on your walk.

------

You had to have walked the streets for at least an hour. The campus was massive, larger than any school you attended. You did as you were told and kept to yourself. The sun had long since set, so there was no warmth to guard you from the biting breeze. A car or two passed periodically, but none slowed down beside you. There was a peace in the solitude. One could chalk it up to the calm before the storm, but you weren’t afraid.

Another car passed, but this time it slowed down. Your heart stopped and landed in your throat.

“Excuse me,” the man called out. The voice was unforgettable. The very same voice that threatened to kill the girl over the phone. The voice that replayed in your mind for hours. You knew it was him.

You turned to face him, trying to commit every detail to memory. He was a conventionally attractive man with lighter hair and a smile that you would have swooned over under any other circumstance. He wore a white polo and jeans and drove a two-door black convertible with the top down.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m looking for a party my buddy’s throwing, but I don’t go here.”

“I’ll say you don’t,” you chuckled as you walked closer. “Your car must cost my tuition!”

The man grinned. “You like? I could take you for a spin. But I’ll have you know; I like to go fast.”

“Mmmm, top-down, wind in my hair,”—you inched closer still, to feign some sort of interest— “but don’t you have a party you’re missing?”

“Well, if you show me where to go, maybe I’ll consider you my plus one.” He winked.

“Now, do I look like the partying type to you?” You laughed and rested your arms on his car door.

Without another word, he grabbed you by the upper arms and pulled you into the driver’s seat. You screamed at the top of your lungs. You tried to fight him from your disadvantaged position, but he was stronger, quicker. He forced you into the passenger seat as he wailed punch after punch into your jaw.

“Nice. Girls. Don’t. Scream!” he yelled. He punctuated his words with one final blow to the head. And as you drifted out of consciousness, you weren’t sure if the roof was closing above you or if the sky was turning black.

------

The sound of fireworks stirred you from your unconsciousness. Lights of reds and blues lit the night sky. You smiled at the serenity of the celebration. You didn’t want to go, but the strong hands beneath you lifted you away. You were much too tired to argue, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. The faint words “stay with me” echoed in your mind, and if staying meant remaining in the comfort of the person who held you, you’d be content to stay there forever.

------

You woke up to blinding white lights. This must be heaven you assumed. You blinked through the searing lights and realized it wasn’t heaven at all. You were in a hospital. The sheets, the gown, the blinking monitors, and a small TV playing all clouded your senses. You reached up to rub your head, but someone was holding your hand.

Hotch moved with you, stirring him out of his strained slumber. He had pulled a chair to your bed, his head resting next to your knee. He lifted his head and looked up at you, an urgency deep within his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” He didn’t let go of your hand.

“I—uhhh—Hotch, what’s goin’ on?” You found your breathing quickening at the sound of your slurred speech, the confusion becoming too much to handle.

“You’re ok. You’re gonna be ok. The doctor said they want to keep you overnight, but the team’s on their way.”

“No, no.” You pulled your hand away. “They can’t see me like this. You can’t see me like this! I’m not put together. I—I feel like I'm gonna be sick. I can’t feel my arms. Are my hands shaking? I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out!”

Hotch all but jumped at your ramblings, his eyebrows raised in shock. Before he could answer you burst into tears.

“Hotch, I’m gonna be sick,” you said through your convulsions.

Hotch jumped up in search of a bucket. He grabbed the trashcan at the corner of the room and brought it to you just in time. Tears streamed down your face as you threw up into the trashcan. Hotch held your hair back and gently rubbed your back.

Your nausea subsided, but your panic remained. Hotch sat on the bed, pulling you into his chest. You gripped him with all your might, desperate for the shakes to go away.

“You're alright. You're safe, ok? I think the medicine is messing with you a little. Take some deep breaths for me. I need you to relax, ok?”

You tried to take breaths at the pace Hotch set. Hotch’s hand combed through your hair as he tried to soothe you. Eventually, you were able to cool off. Hotch gently rested you back on your pillow. “Why don’t we go back to sleep for a little, ok? I think you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

You nodded, your face still wet from the tears. You repositioned yourself and fell asleep within moments.

When you woke up again, your mind was your own. Your head was pounding, and your body ached. You allowed yourself to adjust to your environment before searching for Hotch. There he sat by your bed, talking to a nurse. You cleared your throat effortfully. Hotch stood and approached you.

“How are you?”

“Everything hurts.”

“They’re giving you ibuprofen now. It seems like you were reacting to the morphine poorly.”

“That’s embarrassing.”

“Not at all,” Hotch said seriously. “Do you remember what I told you? That they want to keep you overnight?”

“That does ring a bell,” you said as you rubbed your head. “Is the team here?”

“They are. I told them to wait outside until you were ready.”

“Oh, ok.” You thought for a moment. “Hotch?”

“Yes?”

“Can—Can you tell me what happened? Like, did we win? Is everyone ok?”

Hotch chuckled, but his eyes appeared sad. “Everyone is fine. We got him. Are you sure you want to talk about this now? Why don’t we wait until you—”

“Hotch. Please.”

Hotch sighed and took a moment to think. “Well, we knew we were looking for an expensive convertible thanks to you.” He smiled. “So, we began our search as you spoke. But then, we all heard you scream.”

You flinched at the word, your memory of the gruesome event beginning to reassemble.

“Of course, it was full speed at that point. He had you, and we weren’t going to lose you. We cornered him on a dead-end road just outside of campus. We didn’t let him get far. Prentiss shot out one of his tires, so he started running. Prentiss and Morgan ran for him, and I ran to you.”

He paused. He looked away as his bottom lip trembled. He took a deep breath in as he settled into his natural professionalism again.

“We had EMT on standby, so we were able to get here quickly.”

You nodded, realizing it was Hotch who carried you out. The fireworks, the lights, the “stay with me”, the reality of it all crashed in on you in the form of a shudder.

“It was you?” you asked.

Hotch knit his eyebrows together and tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“You pulled me out. I felt you. I think I heard you.”

“Someone had to make sure you were ok.”

The fact that it was Hotch warmed your heart. Still, a question lingered in your mind. “Is he still alive?”

Hotch shook his head no.

“Mm,” was all you could say in response. There was no room for emotion. No time to process an opinion. You were just glad it was over. “What time is it?”

Hotch checked his watch. “It’s 2:43.”

“In the morning? Sir, with all good intentions, go to bed. Go tell the team to—”

Just behind Hotch, you caught a glimpse of Spencer in the doorway. “Is now a good time?” he asked.

You smiled and nodded. Spencer peeked his head back out and in a loud whisper said, “It’s clear! Go, go, go!”

The rest of the team hustled into the room and crowded around your bed. One by one, greetings and gentle hugs made their rounds, and your smile grew bigger and bigger.

“It’s a party now,” you said, a giggle bubbling out of your throat.

“Oh, she’s got the right idea,” JJ said as she sat close to you on the bed. She carefully moved a strand of hair from your face.

Prentiss laughed. “All we need now is some good music, a dance floor, and some drinks.”

The room filled with a few laughs and overall agreement.

“Too bad you all aren’t even supposed to be here,” Hotch said, slightly scolding the team. “It’s probably time for you all to call it a night.”

“Aw, Hotch, just a few minutes?” Garcia asked.

“We’ll be quiet!” Reid said.

Everyone looked at Hotch expectantly. You looked around at your teammates. They all were begging for a couple more minutes with you. That alone allowed your pain to subside.

Hotch sighed. “Just a couple more minutes.” A small smile formed on his face.

Everyone crowded around the bed, content murmurs and chatter filling the room again.

“Now be honest, guys. How bad do I look?” You shot them all a cheesy smile to sell it.

A few of them chuckled at your antics.

“I think you’ll be back to dating in no time,” Prentiss joked. “Guys love a badass scar.”

“Yeah, ’cause she was dating before,” JJ teased as she played with your hair.

“Shut up!” you giggled, coughing a little.

“I’ll get you water.” Hotch shot up and walked off.

“I’ll go with him,” Rossi said, sighing.

A seriousness enveloped the room. Derek was the first to speak up. “You know, you really scared us today, kiddo. Not to get all big brother on you, but it was tough seeing Hotch carrying you like that. Just limp.”

“And imagine how Hotch must have felt,” Reid said.

You looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

Just then Hotch and Rossi returned with your water.

“Drink,” he said, his arm outstretched. You grabbed the water from him, your fingers overlapping his. The memory of his hands shot through your spine. His frantic begging for you to stay with him, much more panicked than you remembered the phrase.

Imagine how Hotch must have felt.

“It’s getting late,” Rossi said.

The rest of the team grumbled and said their goodbyes. Hotch allowed the rest of the team to go, lingering in the room with you.

“If you need me to stay, I’d be happy to do so.”

“You need sleep, sir.”

“I’ll sleep on the plane,” he said as if it was nothing to him. “If you don’t think you’ll need me, I can let you be. We can be here early to pick you up.”

You thought for a moment. You didn’t want him to go, just in case. “Would you be willing to stay?”

“It’s why I offered.”

You felt your lip begin to tremble, the brave face for the rest of the team beginning to fade. “Hotch?”

“What can I do?”

“Well, I just… Can I use your phone? I think my mom should know I’m alright.”

“Of course.” He handed you his phone. “I’ll wait right outside for you.”

When the phone call was finished, Hotch returned and sat down in the chair.

“If you’re going to stay, I at least want you comfortable,” you said.

“The chair is fine,” Hotch said, taking his coat off for the first time today. “Get some sleep.”

You scooted to the side of your bed. “Here. At least sit up here where there’s some cushion.”

He didn’t respond right away. You knew you could convince him.

“I promise I’ll sleep,” you continued. “I’d be up worrying about your discomfort otherwise.”

Hotch sighed and stood up. “Only because I want you to sleep.”

He sat in the space you made for him at your feet. He stretched his legs alongside yours and rested his back against the footboard of the hospital bed.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you curled up on your side. The comfort in knowing that he was there to take care of you was enough to send you off to sleep in minutes.

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Goodnight.”

------

You woke up to something you had never seen before. Hotch was asleep at the foot of your bed, resting his head against your shins. A hand was placed just below your knee as if he planned to protect you in his sleep. It was the most peaceful you had ever seen him. He didn’t look cross or serious. He was calm and relaxed. You smiled to yourself. You had to fight the urge to return his touch. You knew the moment he woke up he’d return to his professional senses, and you weren’t quite ready for this moment to be over.

The doctor walked in to check on you, stirring him awake, anyway.

“I’m clearing you. Take these twice a day. Your jaw is going to be sore for a couple weeks, so work up to crunchy and chewy foods. And please, no strenuous activity for at least a full week.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said, taking the bottle of pills.

“Thank you,” Hotch said. He stood up from your bed as the doctor left. He threw his jacket on and fixed his hair in the window’s reflection.

You sat up and swung your legs off the bed. Hotch spun around and met you at your side.

“How can I help?”

You chuckled. “I think I can stand on my own.”

His eyes shared signs of concern and disbelief. Still, he took a small step back and allowed you to gather your bearings. Standing on your own, you closed the small gap between you. You began to become painstakingly aware of your attire being only a hospital gown and rubber socks.

“You got it?” Hotch asked, his arms out like you were a baby taking your first steps.

“Mmhmm,” you said. “Are my clothes here?”

“Yes, let me grab them for you.” He rushed to the corner of the room where your clothes had been neatly folded, including his sweater. He handed them all to you, his hands brushing against yours. Your heart fluttered in your chest as he stood over you. You looked up at him. His eyes returned your gaze, though you weren’t able to read him. His chest rose and fell as if his breathing was slow and deliberate.

“I’m going to call the team,” Hotch said, his voice low. “Do you—do you need help with anything before I do?”

All you could do was shake your head no on instinct, your eyes not leaving his. He stayed still. His eyes scanned you like he was contemplating something. He backed up carefully and pulled his phone from his coat pocket.

“Wait,” you said.

He froze.

You felt your face redden as you worked up the courage to continue. “Could—could you untie the top for me? My shoulder—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he said softly as he inched forward again. “Turn around.”

You did as you were told. He brushed your hair over your shoulder and began to work on the knot. His calloused fingers feathered your skin. His warm breath betrayed you as chills ran down your spine. He untied the knot, allowing cool air to reach the back of your now-open gown. Hotch turned to leave.

“Be careful,” he said at the door. “If you need me, knock on the glass.”

You nodded.

He closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

------

The drive from the hospital to the hotel rendered the air stale. Hotch had insisted on helping you out of the hospital and into the car. But he didn’t speak. He drove while you sat in the back seat. Every once in a while, you’d catch him checking on you in the rear-view mirror, only to direct his attention back to the road.

When you returned to the hotel, Hotch stopped you from leaving the car.

“I’ll grab your things. You stay here.”

“I can get my things just fine.”

“Your bag is heavy. Doctor’s orders. No strenuous activity. Stay here.”

You huffed and sat back in your seat as Hotch closed the door for you.

The plane ride was the same: silent. Hotch sat opposite you as if he refused to allow you to leave his sight. But he kept to himself all the same. The others rested or played their card games, but you stayed put, almost waiting for Hotch to make his next move. He didn’t speak the entire flight.

Upon your return, Hotch dismissed the rest of the team.

“Thank you for the hard work this weekend. Rest up, and I will see you all Monday.”

You all headed out to leave, but Hotch stopped you. “Let me take you home,” he said.

You sighed. “Is driving a strenuous task now?”

“It’s late, and I’m not asking,” he said, returning your attitude.

You followed him to his car. He carried both his and your bag and placed them in the backseat before joining you up front.

Again, not a word was spoken between the two of you. You felt your blood boiling beneath your skin. It was as if the trip never happened, as if the distance between you never closed. The babying was the worst of all. You were sure he was seeing you as the rest of the team did now, incapable, fragile, only a child.

Hotch walked you up to your apartment. He waited for you to open your door, placing your bag directly inside.

“Well,” you began, “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

He stood in your doorway for a moment, something on his mind. “Are you sure you’re ok? Is there anything else you think you may need before I go?”

“Hotch, what is all this?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You tried to maintain your sanity, but the anger had bubbled into your throat. “All this, this, this coddling! You’re treating me like I’m fragile or, or useless!”

“Do I have to remind you that you were in the hospital this morning?” Hotch asked, aggravation coating his throat.

“I don’t need this from you, too, ok? The rest of them, I can take it, but you were different! I thought you were different.”

Hotch closed the door behind him and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”

“Have you not noticed that all of them treat me like I’m a child? Derek literally calls me kiddo, and the girls act like I’m some innocent girl fresh out of high school. Reid and JJ are five years older than me. That’s it! Rossi, forget it. I’m like a grandchild to him at this point. But you, you never belittled me. So, what is this? Did I fail you? I’d rather you just tell me than refuse to speak to me.”

“I – you didn’t fail me. How could you think that?”

“You couldn’t even look at me after the hospital.”

Hotch’s face turned a light shade of pink, his eyes leaving yours for only a moment. “We were successful because of you. But you got hurt. I just want to make sure you’re ok. That’s all.”

You thought for a moment, still not satisfied with his answer. “Then why didn’t you talk to me? I thought we were—I thought maybe there was something—”

“Please,” Hotch interrupted, “don’t say anything you might regret.” He took a step back.

“Are you saying I’m imagining this? That I imagined this morning?”

“No, no, no. We’re not doing this.”

“The coffee, the book put away neatly,”

“I would do that for anyone.”

“What about when you stormed out yesterday? When we were going over the file on your bed.” Your voice started to shake.

“That’s when I—I realized we had to use you.” He looked down, almost ashamed.

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear that you’ve outed yourself and maybe you were more delusional than you thought.

“This morning…” you said.

“You asked for my help, and I helped you. Just like I’m happy to do for you now if you need. Look, it’s late, and you’ve gone through a lot.”

“Then what did Reid mean?”

Hotch looked back up at you. He looked nervous, something you may have never seen in his eyes before. “What do you mean?”

“He said imagine how you must have felt when you found me. What did he mean by that if it doesn’t mean you care about me?”

“Of course, I care about you!” he exclaimed, moving closer to you. “I almost lost you! And when I found you, I thought you were gone. You were lifeless. So, forgive me for wanting to be careful with you, because I refuse to let that happen again. I refuse to lose you again.”

You looked at him in shock.

He sighed. “I shouldn’t have said any of this. Listen, the only reason you’re feeling anything for me is because it’s me you woke up to. Nothing more. If Reid or Morgan found you, the same thing would happen with them.”

“Do not chalk this up to some damsel in distress situation,” you said a little too boldly. “The whole team knows I have a thing for you.”

Now Hotch was in shock. He shook his head. “It’s not me you want.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“I know you’re desperate for romance in your life because you either don’t make time for it in real life or were burned so bad in the past, that you gave it up entirely.”

“Hotch, don’t you dare profile me right now.”

“I know you have a rocky relationship with men in general, rooted in your relationship with your father.”

“Stop it, now.”

“You refuse to associate with him in any way. You don’t even allow us to call you by your last name. He views you differently from your sisters for some reason, and you hate him for it.”

“Hotch, I swear to god—”

“You mocked him for giving good advice, and you flinched when I brought up getting beers with him. He’s an alcoholic, isn’t he?”

“So, what, honestly? Literally who cares if he drinks? He gets mean, so what? What gives you the right to tell me what I can and cannot have?”

“But he’s not just mean, is he?”

The air in your lungs got caught in your throat.

“That’s it, isn’t it? That’s how he treats you differently.”

“That’s enough,” you said, your voice cold.

Hotch stepped closer, grabbing your shoulders with both hands. You shuddered in his grasp. “You don’t want me, ok? I can’t fix what you’ve gone through. I can’t even protect you at work. Do you know the guilt I feel for what happened to you? I’m the one who got you hurt. And now I have to live with that. What makes you think that I can be what you need if I can’t even keep you safe here?”

You closed what little space was left between you. You looked up at him, your face only inches from his. “Stop telling me what I want. I’m an adult. I can make my own choices. You’re not going to push me away like this.”

Hotch’s breath hitched in his throat. His chest heaved up and down, and his eyes darkened. “This is wrong. I’m your superior. This isn’t appropriate.”

“If you truly don’t want me, I’ll stop. We’ll go back to how things were. But you have to say you don’t want me.”

His grip on your shoulders strengthened, his touch burning into your skin. His now wild eyes scanned you as if he couldn’t have fathomed this happening. A lump formed in your throat as you waited for him to find the words. Instead, he pulled you flush against him and pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was raw and desperate, rougher than your healing jaw could take, but you couldn’t care less. He wrapped his arms around your back and gripped your hair as if it was instinctual. Your breathing hitched, causing you to moan into his mouth.

He pulled away, slightly out of breath. “I need you to tell me this is ok.”

“This is ok,” you said, breathless.

“Good,” Hotch said, “because I don’t want to stop.”

A smirk formed on your face. You grabbed a hold of his tie and pulled him closer to you. “Then I think you need to take this off.”

You dropped the tie and kissed him as he took his coat off. Your mouth wandered to his jaw. Hotch let out a groan.

“Your room. Now.”

His words sent chills down your spine. You took his hand and led him to your room. You turned around and watched Hotch remove his tie, sliding it through his collar. His eyes stayed on yours, his already dark eyes now almost black with desire. The moment his tie came off, he was back on you, kissing you like his life depended on it. His hands wandered to your ass and lifted you up, his lips never leaving your skin. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to your bed.

Hotch laid you down, now hovering over you. His lips drifted from yours down to your neck.

“Seeing you in this had me thinking horrible things,” Hotch confessed, slightly pulling on the quarter zip you were still wearing.

You blushed. “Really?” you asked, a smug smile growing on your face. “Is that why you were avoiding me?”

“Was it really that obvious?” Hotch asked, his large hands finding their way under your shirt.

You couldn’t even answer as his hands ventured up to your chest. His hands pulled a moan from your mouth.

“Take this off,” Hotch said as he pulled the hem of your shirt.

“You, first.”

Hotch’s eyebrows raised as if surprised by your reply. He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. You practically drooled at the sight of him shirtless. You could only assume he was fit when he rolled up his sleeves or manhandled unsubs, but this was all the confirmation you needed.

“Your turn,” he said.

You did as you were told, revealing yourself to him.

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed as he kissed your chest.

You fought off a moan. You couldn’t believe this was happening. This was only something you pictured in your wildest dreams, and here he was in the flesh.

“I wanted this for so long,” you found yourself saying out loud.

“Me, too,” he agreed. “You have no idea how much I thought about this.”

Your cheeks flushed red. He began leaving marks past your breasts, down your stomach to the hem of your shorts.

“Can I take these off?” Hotch asked.

You nodded.

“Use your words, honey.”

Your stomach did a flip hearing the phrase. “Yes, sir. Take them off.”

He all but growled in response. He pulled at your shorts, taking them off in a swift motion.

“So much for no strenuous activities,” you joked.

“I can be gentle,” Hotch said as he settled in between your legs. “Let me take care of you.”

Your head fell back onto your pillow. You knew you were in for it.

Hotch spread your legs apart, the stretch enough for you to arch into his touch.

A smirk graced his lips, and without another word, he licked into your core. His mouth against you was like a gift from God, something you had only hoped could feel so good. You couldn’t help but squirm against him, grabbing his hair to pull him closer, if at all possible. He placed a hand on your stomach to keep you still. You could feel him smile against you, turning you on even more.

“Hotch,” you breathed out. You were close faster than you had ever been.

“Say my name,” he said as he placed a finger inside you.

“A-Aaron,” you choked out, the new sensation too much to handle. He filled you with another finger, his hitting the spot your fingers never could.

“Fuck, Aaron, don’t stop. Please.” Your breathing quickened, and as he pumped his fingers in and out, you felt the coil in your stomach snap, expletives and his name leaving your lips. Hotch continued to pump you as you rode your high, a daze overtaking you.

When you caught your breath, you pulled Hotch back up for a kiss, your hands finding their way to his belt.

Hotch’s hands stopped yours. You looked up at him, confused.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.

“I want this if you do. Do you?” you asked.

“I really do,” he said. “I need to feel you.”  

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Then please let me help you.”

He released your hands and kissed your forehead as you unbuckled his belt. The moment felt ironically wholesome until you pulled at his dress pants. You couldn’t help but gawk at his cock springing free. You were suddenly nervous, not quite sure it would fit after all this time practically revirginizing. If your jaw weren’t so sore, you’d have him in your mouth without a second thought.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he said as if he could hear your thoughts. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Hotch hovered over you and kissed your lips softly. You returned the kiss and nodded.

Hotch lined himself up with your entrance and carefully pushed in. He and you both groaned at the sensation, the stretch of him filling you something you hadn’t experienced in years.

“Jesus Christ. You’re so, this isn’t your first time, is it?”

“No, no,” you said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just been a while. Just, just go slow, ok?”

Hotch nodded and started to move. He rested his forehead on yours, sighs and pants escaping both of your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Hotch asked.

You chuckled at his question. “We’re a little past that, aren’t we?”

Hotch smiled as he placed his lips on yours, much more tender than before. He moved a stray hair from your face and cupped your cheek with the utmost gentility. The urgency was gone, replaced by something deeper. Everything had culminated to this moment, and neither of you wanted to waste it.

Still, the need for more overtook you. “Aaron,” you said, your hips bucking up into his.

“What do you need? I need you to tell me.”

“Faster, please,” you said.

His pace quickened, one hand still around you. He used the other to stabilize himself, allowing you to view the tension in his muscles. You bit back a moan as the pressure inside you built.

“Don’t hold back,” Hotch said. “Let me hear you.”

He slammed into you, a smirk growing on his face as your breath caught in your throat.

“Just like that!” you blurted out.

He did just that, slamming into you again and again.

“Fuck. I don’t know how much longer I can last,” Hotch said, his voice almost shaking.

“I’m close, too. Please don’t stop,” you begged.

He pounded into you harder and faster, no longer a rhythm but a motive, a goal to achieve.

“Come for me, honey. I’ve got you. Just come for me.”

You clenched around him as you came, all but screaming his name. His pace didn’t let up as you rode your orgasm, your legs trembling around him.

“Oh, god. I’m gonna, where do I—”

“Chest!”

He pulled out and came on your chest, making the most attractive groans you had ever heard in your life. You watched in awe, absolute shock overtaking you. Never in your wildest dreams did you picture this. And for the love of god, you hoped this wasn’t the last time this happened.

Hotch crawled over you, still catching his breath, and captured your lips in a kiss.

“How are you feeling?” Hotch asked. “Is your head ok?”

“I’m good,” you said smiling at his return to his overprotective self. “I’m really good. I promise.”

Hotch rested his forehead on yours then kissed you, the tenderness returning.

“I like when you do that,” you said, your cheeks reddening.

“Me, too,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“You don’t have to help, if you don’t want to.”

“What, and miss showering with you?” Hotch smiled. “Just lead the way.”

In the shower, the two of you washed up, and you couldn’t knock the smile from your face if you tried, until you thought about showing up to work Monday morning.

“What are you thinking about?” Hotch asked.

“The team’s gonna know,” you said.

Hotch thought for a moment. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, well, I wouldn’t have done it in this order, but would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow evening?”

You blushed, despite the state you were both in. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Hotch smiled. “I’m asking you on a date, yes. I have to be honest, though, I’m out of practice.”

“If tonight was you out of practice, I think tomorrow will go just fine.”

Hotch laughed and kissed you again, something you hoped would never fade in your memory.

************

ForeversTaglist:

@lizziedizzie3 @heavennleeee-blog @hunterswearingplaid @thisismysecrethappyplace @geekinator9 @ronnie248-blog @oliolioxiclean @phonegalhelp @because-you-never-know-when @roonyxx @keithseabrook27 @ericaprice2008 @heythereamigodude

[taesanluv3r]

lost in love songs.

han taesan x reader

a short, three part, friends to lovers story.

ੈ✩‧₊ hidden love unfolds when taesan's ipod nano accidentally ends up in the hands of his best-friend, yn. a certain playlist catches her eyes, revealing the true feelings kept within the depths of the boy's heart.

part three: can't help falling in love.

confessions, first kisses, so much cuteness my heart swells. lowercase intended, excuse any spelling mistakes / grammatical errors! enjoy <3

wc: 4,019

masterlist 𖦹 part one 𖦹 part two

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"i need to talk to you"

taesan couldn't sleep at all, her words just circling around and around in his head all night long. the five letter text message written in big bold letters playing in his mind every single time he so much as even tried to shut his eyes. he lies awake, sighing when his eight o' clock alarm rings through his ears. he was going to confess to her today. he had to. it was the only way he or his friend could get any sort of closure, whether he liked it or not. their meeting time was still in another two hours. the boy grabs his phone, instinctively going to check the messages, her messages.

last active 6.45am

seems she couldn't sleep either, though neither of the friends contacted each other while they were awake. no exchange of words, unlike the way they usually did. taesan's stomach hurts, he's restless and he just can't seem to lie still. he gets off of his bed, walking around his room once, then twice, and then a third time before resorting to sitting on the chair near his desk. with a light tap of his finger, the laptop in front of him turns on, a slight buzzing sound from the gears within the device that began to work. his reflection on the screen disappears when the tabs he had opened the night prior appeared before him. the boy's eyes glimmer slightly at the sight of his music folder, countless of demos and drafts scattered in a somewhat organized manner in the little blue folder. his finger slides against the silver track-pad, the air conditioning right by his desk making the surface cool to touch. taesan bites his lips as he clicks, a collection of his unfinished originals popping up above all the other opened tabs.

the boy sighs again, a hand roughly stroking through his bed-ridden hair as his eyes make contact with two songs in particular. those were the same songs he had downloaded onto his ipod the other day, the one that was now in the hands of his best-friend who he had in his mind throughout the whole writing process. taesan curses at himself, regretting ever even making such stupid songs. but it's all her fault, he thought, if she weren't so...her, maybe he wouldn't keep writing these love songs. he scrolls down in frustration, eyes following his cursor as they go through about a dozen more songs about her. a dozen more songs she didn't need to know about, the songs he once swore she'd never see.

the boy's finger moves up again, back to the very top two tracks in the folder. he let's out a deep breath before pressing down, allowing his own music to flow through the air. an unfinished song,

can't help falling in love.

taesan's eyes shut closed, his back leaning softly against his chair and he immerses himself in the tune. soft piano fills his ears, his eyebrows knitting together when he hears his own voice. just like the other song, this one shared that same honey-like feeling. it was very unlike the usually upbeat and, as his friend would call it, emo sound that he typically produced. for some reason though, it was somewhat more...authentic. like despite his edgy exterior the boy was just born to write these cheesy songs that he swore weren't 'his vibe'. he hums along quietly to the lyrics, not wanting to wake the rest of his family that were very much still asleep at such an hour like this on a saturday morning.

her eyes shine like diamonds, her lips stained pink like rose quartz. she speaks so loud with confidence, yeah i envy her voice like sweets of sorts. and i just can't shake this feeling, and i just don't know what's wrong. when she looks at me i'm melting, elvis was right cause i can't help falling in love.

the sound of the lyrics he wrote himself makes him sick for a second, his eyes opening and his body darting forward to hit pause. the tune abruptly stops, his heavy breathing all too loud when silence engulfs the atmosphere. taesan is tense, the sudden reality of the situation he was in had become too real, too much for his liking. the boy blinks in long intervals, his teeth clawing at his bottom lip and his hands that were pressed atop the table forming fists. the boy loses himself for a moment, his mind overflowing with every possible scenario, every kind of reaction this girl he had been so hung up on could've had to the feelings he poured out into his songs, this girl who was his only friend, this girl he might've of lost forever.

he stops himself from screaming at the top of his lungs, eyes glancing at the number on the top right corner of the screen. only one more hour to go. he decides its finally time to get ready. taesan takes a shower, washing his hair with the olive scented shampoo that his mom had bought for him on a sale the other day. he brushed his teeth, making eye contact with the mirror as he dried his hair. the boy spends the next thirty minutes trying on all of his clothes, almost throwing a tantrum and leaving the room in a mess when nothing seemed to feel right. by 9.35 he had decided on a black band tee, the faded smiley face logo of his favourite band contrasting perfectly with the dark wash of his denim jeans. he stares at himself in his floor-length mirror, his hands fidgeting in the air as he begins to rehearse every way the confession that awaits him with his best-friend could possibly go. the shy boy does this often, he finds it hard to speak with people and it makes him feel better to practice beforehand. however, he's never had to do this with her, she always made it easy for him to talk. so why now? why does he feel so nervous and...scared?

"and i just...i think you're cool and- no, i think you're pretty chill and- pretty chill? ugh! this is so stupid!" he groans, launching himself onto his bed and staring angrily at his ceiling. just then, the familiar notification sound of his phone grabs the boy's attention. taesan stretches an arm out towards it, his eyes lighting up and his body going back into sitting position as he reads the text from the girl who'd been running laps around his mind since last night.

yn meet you at the playground

the boy feels a cluster of butterflies in his lower abdomen, a small smile unconsciously making its way onto his lips at the mere thought of the pretty girl conversing with him.

i'll see you there

he shuts his phone off before she could respond, jumping off of the mattress and stumbling into his black leather shoes, all while simultaneously throwing on his coat and spritzing just enough of his signature perfume. he greets himself one last time in the mirror before he leaves, letting out a breath as he nodded to his reflection, so as to tell himself 'good luck'.

the boy was out the door now, not forgetting to bid his family goodbye leaving them to wonder what he was so jittery about. his feet trots over to the bus stop. the playground was closer to her place, almost an hour away from the boy if he were to get there on foot. his fingers tapped impatiently against the silver railing of the bench, no one else was there because no one else had plans so early on a weekend. five minutes go by and the blue vehicle finally comes to a stop in front of him, the automatic door sliding opened as he stepped into the bus. "where you off to this early on a saturday, kid?" asked the old man who had both hands on the steering wheel. "going to tell her the truth" the man chuckles at the boy's mysterious response, watching from the rear-view mirror as he slumped himself onto one of the seats. taesan watches as the trees go by, his eyes wandering over to the people on walks, the children on their tiny bikes, and the couples sharing a morning cup of coffee. the boy reaches into his pocket in search of his music player, lips pursing into a straight line when he remembers its whereabouts. he didn't even have his earphones with him, he couldn't listen to music on his phone even he wanted to! and no music meant no distractions, nothing to focus on apart from his own thoughts he began to get lost in once again.

at last, the bus arrives at his stop. taesan gets up from his seat, a hand gripping onto the yellow handle near the door as he begins to get off. "hey kid" the old man's voice stops him. "huh?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked up in curiosity. "good luck with that girl, rooting for you" the driver's encouraging words paired with a warm smile gave the otherwise nervous wreck of a boy somewhat of a confidence boost. he shoots the man a smile in return, thanking him before hopping out the door. a new sense of security as he strides towards the gated entrance of the park. he walks with his head down, eyes focusing on the way his thick shoes created indents against the grass. he only looks up when his feet reaches the familiar cobblestone that surrounded the playground.

he holds his breath for a moment and his heart rate went up by tenfold. there she was. in the rather empty area, the only other sound apart from the pumping in his chest was the breeze. a smooth blow of wind that cascaded through her hair, causing the swing in which she sat to sway slowly. his gaze lingered for a moment, staring longingly at his best-friend, myung yn. a harsh gush of wind swept the boy off of his feet, sending his body to move forward all of a sudden. the noise that escaped his mouth causing the girl on the swing to turn around and face him. the two stood like that for a while, not uttering a word and just staring at each other from a distance. yn was the first to look away, her head tilting towards the direction of the other swing beside hers, inviting the boy to come and take a seat. taesan takes painfully slow steps before finally making it to the empty swing, the old steel bar from which it hung on creaking a little at the pressure of his weight. still, neither of them spoke a word. her eyes fixed onto the two little birds a couple feet away from them, and his own ones focused right onto her.

"yn..." he begins, though his voice is a lot deeper than usual. taesan wants to tell her everything, just the way he had planned, he had so much to say and yet for some reason all of those things just wouldn't- no, they just couldn't come out. "here" his eyes widen when she speaks, the boy's gaze falling onto her hand that appeared in front of him. his ipod nano in it, and his worn-out earphones de-tangled and wrapped neatly around the device. "oh" is all he managed to muster out, his own hand reaching over to retrieve it. taesan's touch lingers against her skin, sending a wave of goosebumps to decorate her body. it's silent all over again. minus the chirping of song birds and the rustling of dying leaves as they shed onto the green grass. the boy zones out, trying to find the right sentences to say. he's distracted by the thoughts running through his brain, perplexed when they all began to fade away at the sound of soft humming coming from the girl to his left.

the tune is familiar, though he can't seem to pinpoint where he's heard it before. "that song has been stuck in my head all night, i couldn't sleep" yn began, her voice still raspy from the lack of rest. she still doesn't make eye contact though, continuing to hum as she rocked slightly on the swing. "you write so well"

that's when it all clicked in his head. the song she had been humming, the same song he had made himself. the one about a girl, the one about her. yn's compliment registers in his brain, his head falling down to hide the way a pink shade appeared onto his pale cheeks, silently praying she couldn't hear the way his heart thumped beneath his shirt. "if only i could speak as well as i write" taesan finally talks, his voice making her turn to fully face him now. her eyes are big and a small smile pulled against the corners of her lips. "well, why don't you try? try to tell me about this girl" the way she asked him, like she hadn't a clue about the meaning of his songs, it comforted him a little. how could she be so...normal at a time like this?

he stutters, looking away from her as he opens his mouth to speak again. "well...she's the complete opposite of me and she makes me feel all weird and fuzzy inside and" - "you're always weird, but go on" yn chuckles, interrupting him jokingly. the sound of her laugh making him smile too. "and well, she's my best-friend- my only friend, but sometimes...i guess i just kind of wish we were more than that...i just don't want to ruin our friendship..." he trails off, his eyes getting watery all of a sudden; if you asked him why, he'd blame it on the breeze, but he knows that the real reason was the same one for his smile, the same on for his laugh, and the very same reason for his stupid little love songs.

taesan's body tenses up when he feels a cool touch of a hand tapped against his chin, his head being forced to lift up and to face her. to face yn who seemed to have also begun tearing up. "taesan..." she says, but her voice comes out hushed. her vision begins to blur and the boy panics, unsure of what to do. "yn..." now it was his turn to press his fingers against her jaw, bringing her glossy eyes up to look into his.

"i think i might like you more than a friend"

a gasp escapes her lips. she recognizes the line from his song, she knew since last night how he felt, but for some reason she's still in shock. it was as though the night before had just been some sort of wild dream and it was now coming to life. taesan stares deeply into her eyes, analyzing the way her breathing slowed down and her eyebrows relaxed. "i..." she begins, her warm breath that smelled of coffee blowing against his nose. the boy waits patiently in anticipation, a look of hope and worry washing over his complexion.

"i think i like you too"

a single tear falls out of his eye, a sight she had never seen before. for the boy she had known all of these years never cried. yn blinks, tears of her own threatening to follow suit. his hand moves to caress her cheek, wiping away the wetness that stained it. she giggles softly, finding his touch ticklish. he copies her, breaking into a smile as he sniffles lightly, wiping away his own tear-stained face.

the confession was a lot quicker and a lot more anticlimactic than they had thought or anticipated. the pair simmering down into another moment of silence as they swung softly with the air, the cool breeze blowing against the tiny hairs on their bodies. "so...you listened to the songs, then? i mean...obviously you did" the boy breaks away from the peace, his gaze moving towards the ipod on his lap. she nods, blushing at the memory of his love song. "only the first one" yn says, her voice fading out softly. "good" now she turned to face him, head tilted to the side as she did so. "the other one isn't done yet...and it's way more embarrassing than the first one" his voice is back to normal now, the jittery-ness in his previous tone long gone. "will you show me when it's done then?" she asked, watching as he raided his brain in search for an answer. "or maybe..."

yn gets off of her swing, turning around on her heels to stand right across the boy who remained seated. taesan looks up at her confused, not a clue as to what she was going to tell him next. "maybe you could write me a new one!" she speaks brightly, "one about how the girl of your dreams, me, became the girl of your reality" she's prideful, her head facing the blue sky as she spoke. "how 'bout that?" now she looked right at him, a hopeful look in her eyes contradicting the playful smirk on her lips. the boy can only stare blankly at her, eyebrows furrowing like she was speaking a language he didn't understand. yn rolls her eyes, waving a hand in circles over his face. "hello? earth to taesan?" he shakes out of his short trance, "huh?" the exchange of words gives the pair a feeling of deja vu. she smiles softly, "i just asked you to be my boyfriend and you totally zoned out...loser" taesan tilts his head to the side.

"you...me...boyfriend..huh?!"

she laughs out loud, grabbing onto his hands and lifting him off of the creaky swing. "you, han taesan. me, myung yn. boyfriend and girlfriend" she repeats for the third time, in simpler words for his brain to digest. this time, instead of just staring at her like a confused cat, the boy grins. "wait, wait so we can be like...together now?" she groans at his question, "taesan, if you make me repeat myself again i'll toss that stupid ipod into the fish pond!" he laughs when she compains, his eyes scanning every inch of her features. the way her eyebrows twitched when she spoke, the way her eyelashes fluttered with the wind, the way her nose scrunched up and the way her pretty pink lips sat in a pout towards the bottom of her face. he must've been staring at them for a while, the girl's pout flipping into a little smirk. "what's up?" she asks, his attention returning to her eyes. "nothing...can...can i..." he never finishes the sentence, but the way his lips were parted and the way his breathing got heavier, she knew exactly what was going through his mind.

yn takes a step forward, diminishing any amount of space they had between them before. the familiar feeling of her cold fingers sent a shiver down his spine as both her hands moved up to cup his face. taesan is frozen still, letting the girl make all of the moves for him. she inhales softly before pulling him down towards her, finally coming in contact with one another. the atmosphere is stiff, the strawberry scent of her chapstick melting into his rather dry lips. the kiss lasts no longer than a second, the girl pulling away to stare in his loving eyes. regaining the consciousness that seemed to have left his body a minute ago, the boy's arms moved to wrap around her waist, pulling her into his grasp and their lips caught against each other's once more. this time, the kiss was natural and passionate. yn's arms sat around his neck, her fingers twirling against the ends of his freshly washed hair. their heads tilted in opposite directions, noses bumping as they got lost in each other's faces. slowly becoming messier and desperate as time went by. feeling a little lightheaded, the pair separate, gasping for air. his hands still placed on her hips, hers are now on his shoulders and they stopped to sink into the moment.

the air around them was warm, differing from the cool breeze that had surrounded them earlier. before long, yn's cheeks began to redden, the same shade becoming apparent on the tips of the boy's ears. avoiding eye contact, they looked away in unison, flustered giggles escaping their mouths the same way little children did when they were happy. taesan smiles brightly at her, and the girl reciprocates, the corners of her mouth dipping into little dimples against her skin.

"walk me home?" she asks suddenly, starting up conversation again. he nods, extending a hand out for her to grab before they began walking through the grass and out of the gated park. their walk was unusually quiet, but there was some sort of a comforting feeling that floated over them, hands remained intertwined the whole time, constantly stealing glances and blushing away awkwardly whenever their eyes met.

soon, they arrived at the entrance of her complex. taesan looks down at her for a moment, a hand scratching against the back of his neck that began to feel itchy. yn lets out a sigh, a frown appearing against her face. he looks at her with worried eyes, "what...what's wrong?" he stutters, though she only lets out another breath. "nothing. it's just that if i go home now, jaehyun is gonna bully me relentless about this whole thing!" the boy closes his eyes in relief, "oh, i thought something was seriously wrong-ow!" he exclaims, rubbing his forearm she just hit. "it is something seriously wrong! as my boyfriend you should be just as upset as me!!" taesan freezes at the term, a sense of shyness wrapping around his body the same way his weighted blanket did at night. yn is just as flustered, not expecting herself to say that, her attention moving to stare intently at the asphalt on the ground.

"well, as your boyfriend, what should i do then?"

his hands find home beneath her chin, lifting her pretty face up to look at him again. he looked handsome. i mean, she knew he was good looking this whole time but she swears he had never looked this...lovely before. his soft hair lazily falling against his shining eyes, his tall nose harmoniously balanced with his lips that wore a pretty smirk. "you know if you just keep staring and not giving me an answer i won't know what to do, yn" he rolls his eyes playfully, failing to hold back his laugh as he watched the ever so confident myung yn struggle with her words for what feels like the very first time ever. "i...i mean you...you should- um..." han taesan bends down slightly, pressing a spontaneous kiss against her cheek, their faces far too close and their noses almost touching.

"why don't you come over to mine? i'll show you all the other songs i wrote for you" her eyes widen at his words, "other songs? you mean you wrote MORE songs about me?!" taesan nods, his teeth showing when he smiles this time and the dimples below his eyes forming whisker-like shapes against his cheeks. "who knew emo loser taesan was such a love-sick derp" her sudden insult catches him off guard, a scoff escaping his mouth as he wraps an arm around his girlfriend, pulling her close as they cross the street.

"and who's fault is that?" he asks, the right side of his face pressed against her hair. "whats that supposed to mean? it's not my fault you fell in love with someone as great and amazing as me!" she rolls her eyes, leaning onto the side of his chest as they walked in the opposite direction of her neighbourhood and towards the bus stop. taesan laughs, "well that's just it! when you're so great and amazing like that, i guess i just..." yn looks up at him, interested in what her boyfriend was going to say next.

"i just...can't help falling in love"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

i want an emo love-sick derpy taesan ☹️ this is the end of my short series <3 i hope u guys liked it!!! and liked the lyrics i wrote for this and the last part too hehehehe 🙂‍↕️ reblogs n feedbacks are always appreciated!!!! tysm for reading, lmk what u thought 🧸 love, kona :3

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Low stakes, just need to know if I'm justified or just being a jerk.

AITAH for asking my mom to not do anything after 10:00pm?

I, (15F) try to start to go to bed around 9:30-10:00 at night, since I wake up at 5:45 for school. I don't technically have to leave for the bus until 6:40, but I like to have about an hour of time to myself before then and to care for my pets. Because of liking to wake up early, I managed to strike a deal with my mom (40s) that her shows had to be off by 10:00. Because her boyfriend (40s) is half-deaf from being a welder, her shows are always at an exceedingly high volume, so I found this a reasonable compromise so I'd be able to sleep.

Except she's started to have very loud conversations with her boyfriend in the kitchen whilst cooking meals past 10:00 to get around this agreement. This is equally disruptive to my sleep, and so after a few nights of not being able to go to bed past 11:00, I told her that I'd like her to not cook or have particularly loud conversations past 10:00 either. She snapped at me and told me that I'm not allowed to control everything she does and that I'm rude for telling her not to do anything past 10:00.

AITAH?

(Exta info: The food that they make past 10:00 is also largely uneaten right at that moment and typically spur-of-the-moment lunch ideas from either my mom or her boyfriend. Neither of them work particularly late and both eat dinner at a reasonable time. The loud conversations are also half-way to shouting because my mom insists on making sure that her boyfriend can hear at a "normal" volume. He can hear perfectly fine at a normal speaking level, just has problems with audio from digital speakers. The conversations and cooking last an hour at most. I don't need the time in the mornings and could easily wake up half an hour later, it's just a preference).

[pixelyssa]

★彡 reanswering an old ask below:

as a high r3str1cter here’s what i do:

★彡DRY F4ST!NG: 7pm-11am (i have water/meds/gum only if necessary)

It is beneficial when done for 16+ hours. and the best part is we do it in our sleep every night! 

dry means no f00d, no water. since starting this, i’ve noticed less bloating, my “morning sk1nny” lasts longer. i’ve gotten used to my dry f4st times and no longer overe@t at night, which also makes me feel good in the morning. I have acid reflux, and e@ting before bed triggers it. It also triggers, slower met@bolism, difficulty digesting and can disturb your sleep! So even if you aren’t comfortable dry f4sting before bed, atleast not having solid f00ds a couple hours before bed helps, and you will see/feel a difference.

If you tend to get cravings at night, this may be hard at first. here’s how i stopped mine:

(warning, im delulu hehe)

-i always remind myself how i feel after the fact. or the morning after. (guilty, embarrassed, weak) and eventually i was strong enough to let that feeling take over. 

-watch a mukbang or e4ting challenge for the f00d im craving and chugging water until im full lol

-i have insomnia so i have an as needed medication for sleep that knocks me out. if you also struggle to sleep, i def recommend finding ur cure. whether its rain sounds, complete darkness, shutting ur devices off, or melatonin (PRO TIP: do not buy melatonin gummies. Do not consume the 5mg or 10mg or 20mg supplements of melatonin. when our bodies lack melatonin, we only need .5mg MAX, which is sold in pill form or can be prescribed by your doctor! anything higher will just make you immune and it will stop working eventually, it also will make it difficult to get up in the morning.)

★彡COFFEE

-i drink coffee as soon as my dry fast ends. It suppresses my app3t1te for a while and it helps my bowels hehe (i also need the caffeine to get me through the day)

-i HATE black coffee, i prefer brown stevia and a splash of cream/almond milk. but whatever you like!

-i usually have 1-2 cups to start my day. 

-if you don’t like coffee, tea is also good. there are certain types that can do different things for you ofc, i like green tea for the caffeine and metabolism boost (same reason i drink coffee). but i’ve heard good things about ginger tea, mint tea, etc. (if youre a tea person i don’t need to even explain, you know.)

★彡SAVING C4L0RI3S 

-i try save them for the end of the day, that way when its dinner time and i’m hungry, I’m not feeling like i need to find something small to fit the rest of my lim1t. (the coffee helps with this step)

-i stay distracted and i really worked on self discipline to be able to get through this one lol.

★彡CHOOSE FILLING F00DS OVER FILLER F00DS

-for example, 2 oreos and juice is the same amount of c4lories as my chocolate chip pancakes r3cipe. cookies aren’t filling, you’ll just want more. theyre a filler. whereas 3 chocolate chip pancakes with berries and syrup is filling and satisfies the same craving. 

-if you like to use ur c4lories for snacks that’s completely fine, im not judging you <3 it just leads to overe@ting for me.

-i usually have 1 meal and 1-2 snacks throughout the day. I have my google doc link ready to go if anyone 18+ would like to see, comment and let me know youre of age and ill message u it (DONT DM ASKING I WONT SEE IT) <3

★彡M3TABOLISM DAYS

-by now you’ve probably heard the term “meta” or “metab” day. most people will do this once a week, it is basically where you spike your l1mit for the day. constantly lowering your intake will slow your metabolism and eventually you’ll start maintaining, or plateauing. This is to help boost your metab! Its also good for holidays, or days where you have plans involving f00d. It’s hard at first, but if you’ve been stuck at the same w3ight, its good to start doing this. 

-i do one once a week, but i’ve seen people do them in 10 day increments or even twice a month.

-a friend of mine told me metabolism days should be -200 of your bmr (you can calculate your bmr online) that would make my metab day l1mit around 800-900 c@l. (which is 300+ higher than my normal limit, incase you want to just add to your current intake instead of calculating your bmr) it should be a close to a “normal” l1mit. 

-there are chances of g4ining, of course, from metab days. don’t shy away from it if you feel too scared to g4in, this was my mistake and i was stuck at 102 for WAY TOO LONG. metab helped me break 100, and now im almost at my next goal. Metabolism days are for everyone, it’s not just sk1nny people who plateau and demolish their metabolisms. try it out, its a nice treat <3

★彡WATER INTAKE & VITAMINS

we should be drinking over 2L of water a day (you can google and calculate your specific amount needed per day, im just a girl) 

-drink your necessary amount THROUGHOUT THE DAY. it is sm water to have in one sitting so the only possible way to get it all in is to have it all day. tt’ll make you feel better too.

-this is something i struggle with, i just don’t enjoy water. I’m on and off with when i enjoy it and when i can’t get myself to drink it. If anyone else struggles, i’ve realized that ice cold water is easiest for me to drink.

-water gives the illusion of feeling full, it literally keeps you alive, and obviously sm more lol

-i take vitamin d, vitamin c, calcium and a women’s multi vitamin for metabolism every day. the water is important for helping my body absorb these. Look into other vitamins but these are what i take based on my deficiencies. 

-i take gummy vitamins, they have more c4lories than a pill, but its like a sweet treat after my meal so i’ll probably stick to gummies <3 make sure you chew them all the way through if you get these!

★彡IVE BEEN DOING THIS WAY TOO LONG Our b0dies are all different. what works for me might not work for you, and that’s fine, love! I’m sharing what i do because there is a lot of general knowledge in my routines, so i thought i’d share. 

[bullet-prooflove]

The General!Series - Part Four: Moving On: Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson x Reader

A little get well soon gift for my girl @dizzybee03

Tagging: @kmc1989 @justameresimp @agentorange9595 @lxaah11 @librarian1002 

Broken Buttons (feat: Harmon Rabb)- Beau discovers the real reason you broke things off with him.

Messy - Companion piece to Broken Buttons - Beau discovers the truth about what happened that night.

Choices - Companion piece to Broken Buttons and Messy - Beau and you discuss your choices moving forward.

Sitting in court is excruciating but Beau endures it, he endures it because no matter how fucking horrified and nauseated he is, you must feel it tenfold. He can’t imagine what it must be like to sit in front of a room of your peers and describe what that man did to you, to have your story questioned and torn apart, to have someone tell you to your face that you were asking for it. They try to paint you as unstable, the kind of woman who intended to sleep her way up the ladder, whose now crying wolf because she was rebuked.

He almost punches the prosecution attorney in the mouth for the shit he says to you. It’s only Mic Brumby’s iron clad grip on his arm that stops him from launching himself across the table and strangling the man.

It’s the physical evidence that’s the worst.

You had the competency to go to the hospital afterwards, you’d been bleeding, scared when the doctor had seen you. You’ve worked with enough women through your time in Victim Support Services to know the procedures, you needed the morning after pill, medication to counteract anything that son of a bitch might have given you.

The hospital had logged you under an anonymous patient I.D. It’s something they do for victims of sexual assault when they collect evidence, when they’re not ready to file a police report.

It sickens Beau to hear the injuries you’d sustained, he hadn’t realised how violent it was, not until then.

You’re found not guilty of the offense. The jury of your peers accepts that you acted in self-defence when you broke the General’s nose, that you were too traumatised to attend work in the aftermath.

Your case, it opens doors for other women it’s happened to because you weren’t the first woman he did it to, you weren’t even the last. He’s arrested during a charity function for victims of sexual assault and the fucking irony of that astounds Beau.

You spend an hour in the shower after you give your testimony, before you fall asleep on the couch with your head in Beau’s lap. He spends the whole night, his fingers running soothingly through your hair as he begins to plan the next steps.

You’ve told him you can’t stay in Washington, that Admiral Chegwidden has granted you a transfer back to San Diego. There’s too much trauma attached to this place.

He spends the next couple of days helping you pack up your things. You throw away more away than you keep because you don’t want the bad memories following you. Harmon Rabb and Mic Brumby turn up on moving day to help carry the boxes down to the truck. Besides him, they’re the only two people who’s touch you don’t flinch away from these days.

“Thank you.” Beau tells Harm when the two of them are alone in the apartment, grabbing the final few boxes. “For bringing me here, for fighting for her.”

“Don’t thank me.” Harm says, his voice gruff as he crosses his arms over his chest and stares out of the window. “It happened on my watch. I  was there that night, I should have stuck around but me and Mac were going through some shit…”

Harm shakes his head, his jaw clenching.

“It never should have happened.”

Beau sighs, shifting the box he’s carrying to his other hip.

“Ally doesn’t blame you and neither do I.” Beau tells the other man. “If it wasn’t that night, it would have been another. You heard the testimony, once he had her in his sights…”

It was the same with all the others, that son of bitch had enjoyed the chase, it made catching his prey all the more sweeter. He treated every single one of those women like a trophy, something to be hunted down, caught.

“I need you to promise that you’ll check in every once in a while, tell me how she’s doing.” Harmon says, his palm rubbing over the back of his neck.

“I will.” Beau tells Harm as he picks up the remaining box and heads towards the apartment door. “Ally may need a little time but I’ll make sure to keep in touch.”

“She’s going to get through this.” Harm reassures him as they step out into the hallway, he waits as Beau closes the door behind him, locking it up for the final time. “It’ll take some time but she has it in her.”

“I know.” Beau says as he slips the key into the mailbox for the landlord to pick up. “If anyone can make it through something like this, it's her.”

Love Beau? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bearw-me]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write an Angel Dust x reader (platonic) Oneshot. Where the reader is sad and just lying in their bedroom. And Angel Dust tries to give their friend some comfort and tries to make them feel better. Like maybe he does their makeup, they both dress up and go out into the city. And maybe Cherri Bomb joins them. But If your not comfortable writing this then that’s totally fine 💗

of course! i love writing comfort fics!💖

𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥'𝐬 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐎𝐮𝐭! — 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭 & 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢 𝐁𝐨𝐦𝐛

𐐒 ft : (platonic) angel dust x gn!reader x cherri bomb 𐐒 cw : fluff, bit of angst, mostly fluff, hurt/comfort 𐐒 summary : after lying in your bed for a couple of days, angel takes it upon himself to get you up and out 𐐒 wk : 1.4 k 𐐒 note : awwww we all need friends like these two!

It had been two days straight. I mean... so far. You couldn't really tell what time it was right now. No sun poking through the crushed velvet curtains of your room, or a clock within your reach to tell.

Not a clue.

You sighed, rolling over onto your side, shifting in the covers of your bed feeling all but empty inside. The tears of yesterday dried and itchy on your skin.

Today, like yesterday, there wasn't a reason to get up.

Giving into the thought, you closed your eyes, beckoning sleep to wash over you again despite the fact you weren't tired. Just passing time.

Who knows if you found sleep, because the next time you woke up-maybe an hour or five minutes into your nap? There was a loud banging on your door.

"Hey! Get the fuck up and let me know you're alive!" You heard Angel's voice through the oak barrier.

You groaned softly, heart thudding in your chest. You didn't really want him to come into your room right now, seeing as the place was a mess and lets face it- so were you.

You let him knock until the noise stopped completely, leaving only a lingering shame hanging over your body for ignoring him.

What kind of friend would do that?

Then, there was a crunching sound coming from your door.

You finally sat up, watching as the lock from your door slowly rotated and finally clicked open. Angel's head peeking through the gap.

"Damn, you look worse for wear."

You didn't give him the satisfaction of an answer. Only grumpily rolling onto your side away from him.

The bed dipped next to you, the sheets you so desperately clung to stripped away.

"Hey!" You protested.

"Get up. And take a shower," Angel smirked, pair of hands on his hips as he started pushing you off the bed.

Each nudge pushing you an inch further off the mattress until all you could do was throw your legs over the side and finally stand up.

Angel took your hand gently, guiding you to your bathroom and stuffing you inside. "Use shampoo!" he yelled out through the door, huffing at you and letting his arms drop to his side. "It'll make you feel better!"

The hot water relaxed your body beyond measure. Washing grime and the hopeless feeling that clung to your skin. The gentle pressure ebbing and beating against the back of your neck.

When you finally came out of the bathroom, you found Angel Dust cleaning up. Your bed made nicely with new sheets, as he tossed clothes that littered the floor into a pile.

"Heyy, look who's finally looking the part," he teased, his arms outstretched to rub your biceps.

It made you smile, clad in his fluffy white bath robe he had lent you. "You... You didn't have to do all this Angel," you said sadly, letting your eyes roam over the clean room.

"Nah, its no biggie," He walked over to your bed, producing a tiny hot-pink bag that was stuffed to the brim with makeup and all sorts of tools and brushes "Who else would I go out with tonight? I had to get your sorry ass up." He joked, taking a seat on your bed and patting the spot next to him for you to sit.

The offer genuinely warmed your heart.

Angel instantly got to work, cupping your face and pulling you closer so that he could work without interruption.

Then, the door to your room busted open with a loud bang!

"You girls ready to get fucked up tonight!?" Cherri smiled, her sharp teeth gleaming. Holding a makeup kit of her own, high above her head like a coveted prize.

The two of them sat at either side of you, cross legged and hovering close to your face. Angel cupping your jaw to keep you still while Cherri did your eyeliner, her hand resting softly on your temple to steady her hand.

"Keep your eyes closed!" She giggled, suddenly slipping into an uncharacteristic silence as she focused.

Well- the both of them were quiet, bated breaths as Cherri finished applying the black liner with a simple flourish.

"Aw there ya are gorgeous," Cherri smiled, holding a mirror up to show you, and your jaw dropped. The eyeliner perfectly suited to your eye shape. And incredibly fucking clean.

"Holy shit," you murmured, leaning closer to the mirror to get a better look, earning giggles from your friends.

"Not done yet, babe," Angel laughed, swiveling your head to look at him now. Cherri offering and handing him lip liners and glosses like a practiced doctor-nurse duo.

"How many times have the two of you done this," you mutter, Angel squishing your face to keep you still.

"We hang out all the time! Bout time you joined us," They agreed, genuinely having fun with you. A new face to doll up for a night out.

"Liner," Angel held his hand out, the thin pencil appearing in his hand as Cherri dug around for it.

You parted your lips softly like Angel instructed, the man in front of you applying it gently, his tongue poking out in concentration.

Every step the two of them made with you filled you with warmth. The dreary days literally melting away as the two gossiped to you. Angel spilling secrets about Val and the other V's, while Cherri promised to 'kill the fuckers' the moment she became an overlord. Laughs filling the room that was once clouded with sorrow.

Eventually, Cherri was sitting behind you, brushing your hair gently while the two of you judged Angel's outfits he presented to the two of you. Holding up two at a time with a smile. Looking for honest opinions.

"What the fuck Angiee?" Cherri whined, pointing the brush in her hand at the left one he held. A hot pink shirt that dipped low on the collar, filled with fishnets, boots and a skirt. "Don't just throw your clothes in there! I need to see my fucking jacket on this body!" She whined, Australian accent thicker when she was upset, shaking your shoulders to put emphasis on her words.

Like before, the two of them stuff you into the bathroom and waited outside. Getting themselves ready too while you dressed.

With a moment to finally have to yourself, you paused.

The person on the other side of the mirror wasn't the person you had saw merely an hour ago. Dark sleek liner and light mascara. . . Angel's perfect, deep pink lipstick outlining the plushness of your lips.

It was a sight to behold, truly.

The work of your friends transforming you into a. . . a sweet looking person.

You pulled the outfit they complied for you onto your body. The shirt leaving a heart-shaped cut out in the center of your chest. And Cherri's favorite leather jacket over your shoulders. The sleeves stopping just before your elbows, lined with pink feathers around the cuffs and wide collar.

Although a little hesitant, you poked your head out of the bathroom, feeling new to this. A little lamb stumbling out into the field for the first time.

"Goddamn!" Cherri howled, shamelessly praising how good you looked, pulling you out of the bathroom fully to get a proper look at you. "Told ya my jacket would looking fuckin' amazing on ya!" She gushed.

"My babies all grown up," Angel feigned tears. The two of them so overtly proud of their work, hooking their arms with yours.

Despite everything, feelings ebbing in your chest and rising to your head. . .

It felt good.

It felt good to be led out of your room, the two of them chatting and holding you close to their sides. Excited to finally step out of the hotel, coming up with the most insane plans and leaving the decisions in your lap.

"We could go get drinks? Go to a club? Maybe do something lowkey like a movie?" Angel listed off, glancing down excitedly at you.

"Oh! OH! We could go to LuLu World and ride the roller coasters until we're sick!" Cherri laughed, feeling more like a kid at the prospect. "Let's give hell a fucking run for their money!"

The two of them waiting for your answer, pulling you along as they clambered into the back of a cab, arms around your waist and shoulders.

Angel pulled out his phone, the three of your squishing faces together to commemorate the start of the wild night with a selfie, the two of them sticking their tongues out just to make you laugh.

[rainee-da]

Hello <3

Is it ok to request the "What they said when you're sleeping" but with the Divine Visionaries? Tysm!

🍀 The Talk When You Sleep [2]

CHARACTER ❥ Orter Mádl ⏳ / Sophina Biblia 📕 / Tsurara Halestone ❄️

W A R N I N G ⚠️ R13 for general fluff w/ slight angst as spice / Relationship HCS / BIG SPOILER!!!! / might be a bit too OOC for you.

O R T E R M Á D L ⏳

he opened the door to your bedroom and sighed loudly "Seriously? We're supposed to be at the office at 9 o'clock, and you're still sleeping in your bed? Your laziness is absolutely revolt-" he shook his head in annoyance and marched closer, but stopped abruptly as his hand hovers in the air "That eyebags... you must be staying up late again," he sighed and sit at the edge of your bed, thinking for a while "There's no urgency... I suppose it's fine to let you be for some more," his face is annoyed as he loosened the tie in his neck he looked up the window, his expression remained unchanged "Yesterday was quite frivolous, I didn't remember there was anything in particular happening... what made you stay up late?" he mumbled as he turned his head to watch your face "Are you overthinking again? Or is there something that I missed?" he frowned as he is thinking to himself, before sighing again "No matter... we'll just sleep together later at night so I can fix your sleep habit, should've done so for a long time anyway." he brushes your hair to the side with his finger, his frown softens slightly "Your expression is good, and your temperature is normal. At least you're not sick physically," his hand moves to stroke your cheek as he enjoys the silence for a while, his expression grows solemn as the deep thought overwhelms his mind "Every time I see you as innocent as this, I always wonder... Why do you want to be with someone like me?" his finger rubs your eyelids gently "I rarely said this to you, and I know I should, but... You're a smart person. You're strong, able to defend yourself when danger strikes. You also had good friends that cherish you," he tilted his head as he got immersed by your face "You're... a beauty, so beautiful that it made me wonder how many people felt envious when we made us official... And, most important of all," he paused as the word got caught up in his throat, he blinks rapidly to clear some of his senses "You're so altruistic, so kind... unlike me." he chuckled lowly "I don't even know how many people have died by my wands, for the sake of order," he sighed as he turned his eyes away to stare at the view outside the window "Order is made for a reason. I believe that as long as the order is properly maintained, there will be no more Alex in the world. No people would get hurt anymore... But," he paused "The whole incident with Innocent Zero made me reconsider those beliefs... But, if my actions all this time were wrong, " he paused, his face darkened "Wouldn't that make me.. a. criminal?" he sighed, rubbing his face wearily "No use thinking about that now. It only brings unnecessary questions that will hinder my rationality," his gaze shifted to you and his mouth formed into a thin smile "It's a new dawn, and the citizen will need to get used to the new order. A riot would be inevitable, and bringing the previous sense of normalcy would be a grueling task ahead for the Divine Visionaries. But," he leans in and gives your lips a chaste kiss "With you, I believe I'll do well—maybe even better than before." "𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙣𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙬."

S O P H I N A B I B L I A 📕

"Oh my, the way you sleep is so vulgar! This won't do," she hurriedly move to fix your sleeping position and remove her coat to put it over you "There, all better," she smiles in satisfaction as she move your head to put it over her lap "You really had no grace, sleeping during work hours like this... you're lucky I'm more pliable than Mr. Madl." she sighed and shake her head as she opened the book in her hand to starts reading "Well, I'm only this pliable towards you if I'm being honest. If Mr. Revol's the one who's doing this, I would've already cursed him so he would dance bare-naked in the courtyard," she coughed softly and hums to stop herself from laughing "That's... such a tasteless threats coming from me, I can't believe I just said that." she tried to focus on reading but her mind is wandering "Let's see... Didn't you promises me that you would never napped at work anymore? So I think a punisment should be in order, no?" the thoughts in her head brings subtle-yet mischievous smile in her stoic face "What if, you have to cook dinner for a week? Or maybe I'll make you read one of my books? That's not really a punishment though," she tapped her chin as she's thinking "Or, I could also punish you," she leaned closer and blow into your ear "Like this? Fufu, you're so cute when you're wincing like that." she sighed and close the book to put it on the side, and her hand moves to brush your hair gently "You bring out sides of me that I never thought I have..." a soft smile formed on her face "For example... I never thought that feeling your hair against my fingertips like this could be so addicting," she lightly pinched the tip of your nose, and giggles at your reaction "Or that teasing you would be so much fun? Your reaction is so lively, it's never boring to be around you," she sighed and close her eyes as she lost in her own thoughts "Being with you has become one of my hobbies... Fresh scent of new book will never compare to the scent of your fragnance, and reading become a chores if you're not by my side," she smiles dreamily, slowly getting sleepy "Your influence is kaleidoscope of color in my life, I never thought that something as abstract as you would be so enjoyable... Really, I would trade everything in the world, if it means we could always be together like this," her hand lied in your chest as she slowly dozed off "𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙬𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 '𝙤𝙪𝙧' 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮, 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧"

T S U R A R A H A L E S T O N E ❄️

"Brrrr…. oh, you're asleep?" she lowered her hand from her mouth, her body shakes slightly "I guess you've been waiting for long… I'm sorry," she walked towards you, her face expresses remorse "I should woke you up, don't I? But… brrrr…. let me use your body to warm up first… You don't mind, right?" she lied beside your sleeping figure, and snuggle closer to your side "Hehe… your body is so warm," she smiles dreamily as she hugs your body "I'm sorry that it took me so long to finish my work… I was getting in the zone with my research, and finally made some progress… But then," her gloved hand move towards your neck to rub it gently "The heater suddenly broke down… I have to waited for the mechanic to arrive, and I didn't realize that it was already this late" she sighed and closed her eyes, looking exhausted "I should've told you to go home early... I'm sorry that you have to wait for me." her body shakes again, and she lay her head on your chest "Brrrr... Why is it so cold," she lost in her own thought as she listen to your heartbeat, a soft smile formed in her face "Your heartbeat is steady, that's good... I always used your body as my warmer, and I know you said that you didn't mind that one bit... " she blushes and shyly buried her face to your neck "... But I hope you're not forcing yourself... My magic made my body cold, I didn't want you to get sick because of me." she stumbles as she risen up, her smile is warm and her hand is stroking your cheek "I think soon enough I can make some potion that will help keep my body warm temporarily! Tomorrow I'll show it to you! I don't know how long the effects would last... But," she leans in to kiss your cheek, accidentally biting her inner cheek out of nervousness "Ouch! Eh, what I'm saying is, with those potions we, hopefully, can starts hanging out outside! Do some dinner date, movie night at cinema, stuff that I know you want to do but you never asked out of consideration for me. " she hums happily as she snuggle closer to your cheek "You're warm," her eyes is full of adoration as she stares at your sleeping face "I love that the most about you... You're such a warm person. You're patient with me, even though sometimes my magic combined with my clumsiness causes you trouble. But you're always being so kind with me... It made me so happy," she turns to look at the clock "Ah, It's already this late! I should wake you up now." "𝙊𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧����."

Long time no see! I've been busy with my irl stuff and just finally got the time to write again. I kinda projecting on some of the characters lol I hope you don't mind... I originally planned to write for all of them, but I decided to split it into different parts since when I'm writing this I have a severe case of writer's block lolol. I promises that the rest of them will be uploaded in due time!

I've made similar prompt before w/ Devil's Quintuplet+Cell War so check it out! And I tried to make it as less OOC as I possibly could, but I don't know if it will suits your interpretation. I hope you like it all the same though! Thank you anon for your request 🍀 and thank you for reading!

[rainismdata]

I am obviously bad at this, but here we go.

What if House had a motorcycle accident in s3e8? The one when Wilson was waiting for the bus? Maybe Wilson had already on the bus or the taxi when it happened.

Either way, he got stopped by the crowd and police officer ask the bus/taxi driver to choose the other way.

Wilson asked for the reason as to why the road was blocked, and the answer is there's a big accident. He offers his help, letting them know that he's a doctor and could possibly help to call for ambulance from PPTH.

Until that point he got into the point when he's looking at someone he probably recognize. He found the person under a vehicle, trapped by his leg. Wilson looks around to found a broken motorcycle. A motorcycle that he knew. Also, a familiar cane was scattered.

He rushed to the person just to find out that it was House. He calls for his name, getting no responds at all while he breathes weakly and his heartbeat is slowing down. Not only there's scratches on his body (even his jacket got torn), House obviously got bleeding on his head.

He tried to waking him up, while others tried to getting him out of the vehicle. He's bleeding pretty badly, in pain, the weather doesn't help either.

I want to say that the moment they got him out, House heartbeat suddenly stopped (to make it more dramatic). Wilson says things; calling his name, telling him to wake up, telling him that he was here, telling him that he needs house's heart to beat... while trying his best on working on it.

Finally got a pulse back, he calls for another emergency on PPTH's E.R. This time, he calls Cameron to get her prepared. She wasn't prepared on what was happened to whom.

At the road, on their way to PPTH, consciously or not, House mumbles things to Wilson. Wilson's heart beating faster; he knew as much as he want House to stay sound, he needs House to save his energy. But— there's a clear words on something House said. House calles his name and says, "It... It doesn't hurt anymore..." The mumbles stop, but he's still breathing, barely.

Wilson finally got House to the PPTH. Obviously got concussion, head trauma by the state of his head's condition.

To make it worse (and unreal), they had to make him into coma (or House just fell into coma by himself, so it needs tests or something for later) for a few days (or hours if it's possible, I need to research on that, obviously. Weeks is too long, but who am I to say that) because of his head injury.

Wilson stayed on his side for days. Even it should've been unusual for the fellows to witness him on House's side, it's almost questionable to also witnessing him sleep on House's side of the bed, keeping close to him, found him keeping House's hand in his, kissing House nape when he has to get out of the room.

The fellows knows nothing about them, how close they were, but they knew they are close. But, these latest weeks has been hell for the two (and both departments, and the PPTH, go to hell, Tritter)

Wilson... He's trying to stay vocal to House, telling him things as if House is there to heard him. To the point he was so desperate. He confesses his feeling to House; telling House to come back to him, telling House to wake up for him, telling House that he doesn't know how could he live without him, telling House that he loves him all this time, telling House he was so stupid and all that stuff because he doesn't make the move and all.

Until the time House brought out of coma. Another "hell" came.

House doesn't remember who he is, having no idea of his self. But— He's still there. He's still House. He could responds to the diagnosis. He still remember those hard names of diseases.

The fellows hoping it would just be temporary. But about how long would it took, they don't know exactly (I'm imagining it would be just for days or a few weeks).

Tritter tried to came to him. But Cuddy somehow could use her "connections" to overpower him. He could do nothing anyway, now that House doesn't even remember a thing.

Either way, he feels familiar around Wilson. He's afraid to ask Wilson about things, to ask the fellows about things. But, he feels that he heard things when he was in coma. He's unsure about the things he heard.

Took months (or just another weeks) for House to recover his memories. Wilson and the fellows were helping him through it, and has made more and new memories. And until then, when he's finally getting familiar— recovering his memories of Wilson; House recognizes the voices he heard when he was in coma. He was sure it was Wilson's voice. Wilson was always helping him. He could do his work at any how he could do, but still got most of his time to be with House.

It was one day, the diagnostician fellows came to House' house, having differential diagnosis, evem though House haven't yet officially came back to his position, and Cuddy still letting the fellows to go to House. Even Wilson helped through the DDx, having opinions and recommendations.

When the fellows going back to PPTH, House finally ask a personal question. He called Wilson's name when Wilson was helping him preparing the packaged foods to the table.

House asked if Wilson really intended about what he said. But, House didn't say anything about what was he was talking about or when he did say it. Confusion arises on Wilson, bit he still asks further.

"I mean— what you've said... When I was in coma— I think..." House wasn't sure on what did he remember of the voices said to him. "Ignore it. It's just my hallucinations...”

Wilson take a moment of silence, as if he's going to his memory on what he said to House on his coma. House was never talking about anything happened in his own coma.The question does make him taken aback, but not surprised. He didn't say anything about his confession either since House awake from his coma. Wilson smiles through it, continuing what he was doing. “If it contains the word that I love you, then it's real. I mean it.”

House blue icy eyes is looking for answer on those chocolate browny eyes. He does remember that whatever going on between both of them, House feels familiar and he loves every bit of it; mostly, he feels he loves Wilson too much that he couldn't even say anything about it out loud, or even seriously confessing on the younger.

Wilson is making sure that his confession is now being heard. He told House the things he said when House was in coma; telling House to come back to him, telling House to wake up for him, telling House that he doesn't know how could he live without him, telling House that he loves him all this time, telling House he was so stupid and all that stuff because he doesn't make the move and all.

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (06)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: Teen (series will be explicit) Words: 1.2k Summary: Sleepwalkers

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

He can see her ass.

He doesn’t bother trying not to look. There’s just the two of them in the small room, her stretched out on the bed while he sits with his back to the wall across from her. There’s no blanket to speak of and she’s lying on top of the ancient cot facing away from him. He’s still not sure what happened but she shifted a while ago and the skirt of that little sundress had ridden all the way up to her waist.

He was a saint for not touching her.

It was a few hours til morning yet, she’d let him sleep longer than he actually needed. While he was hefting himself off the bed she had yawned, stretching her arms to the ceiling and making parts of her body do some absolutely fascinating things.

No harm in looking.

His hands move as he keeps one eye on her, an ear turned towards the hallway, waiting for the inevitable footsteps. If someone doesn’t try to rob them tonight he’ll eat his hat. Fingers far too used to the work refill his shotgun shells, checking their weights and deciding if the contents are still any good with barely any input from his brain.

And those damn thighs keep calling to him.

They’re edible, is what they are. Two prime pieces of grade-A meat. Of course he’d stare, his mouth was practically watering.

“It ain’t you,” he mumbles to his cock. “You ain’t had a vote in a long fucking time, ya hear?”

It does not. It twitches in interest as she sighs in her sleep, thighs rubbing together. It’d be the work of a moment to cross to her - hell he wouldn’t even have to get off his knees - set his teeth to those perfectly rounded asscheeks and bite. Not enough to break the skin, but enough to turn those little sighs into moans.

Yeah, his cock was definitely looking to cast a vote.

He felt almost light-headed, hormones his body hadn’t made in decades suddenly swimming in his system. With a hacking cough he takes a hit of chem, hoping it might resettle his balance. It does, a little, enough that his fingers stop twitching her direction.

A floorboard creaks.

The Ghoul cracks his neck, setting his hat to the side and resting the end of the shotgun on his knee. Another creak, then the shuffling of boots outside the door. It opens slowly and he clocks three men standing there, two he recognizes.

“Well now, I was beginning to think y’all weren’t ever gonna show. D’you come to party or just watch?”

The man in front stops suddenly, single eye scanning the room. It’s nearly pitch black, barely any light coming from the hallway either. Ever one for the dramatic, the Ghoul scrapes a match across the floor, letting the flame light up his face before he sets it to the end of a cartridge.

“Now, ordinarily, I might let y’all off with a warning seeing as you’ve only made some regretful decisions thus far. But it seems to me a group of fellas like yourself could only have one reason for breaking into a lady’s bedroom in the middle of the night.” He drops the shell into the shotgun, chambering it one fluid motion. “And I cannot abide that kind of man.”

The shell is a special cocktail of his own, a mix of chemicals and tar that burns hotter than acid and sticks to everything it touches. The effect is quick - no need to burn the place down - but aggressive.

The sound of the blast is deafening in the small room, the screams of the two men the shell explodes onto nearly as bad. Next to him he hears a muffled “What?” before he rolls to his feet and places himself between the wakening woman and the door.

“Does anyone else have something they’d like to add to the conversation?”

The screaming continues, even though the fire has burned out. He can see patches of bone where the mixture ate through face, neck, and arms. Smiling to himself he takes a step forward, gently pushing the trio away and closing the door.

“Y’all should go take care of that, and stop that caterwauling.”

“What happened?”

One strap of that dress of hers has fallen and he reaches out to fix it without even thinking. He can almost hear the scrap of his leather gloves on her skin, too much rough against all that softness.

“Just a group of townies looking to make friends. I disabused them of that notion.”

She looks confused, still blinking away sleep. “You shot them?”

“Look here, when it comes to charming the locals you’ve got me beat by a mile - but when a fella needs to be reminded of his manners a bullet has a more lasting impact.”

She groans, burying her face in her hands. “I knew this would happen.”

“You knew they were gonna come up here, and yet you were sleeping there sound as a babe?”

“I knew it was a risk,” she groans again, “kind of comes with the territory.”

“And yet I found you prancing your way through the wasteland alone, looking like that.”

“I’m not alone, I have you.” He barely gets to revel in that statement before she frowns. “And what do you mean, looking like that?”

“Sweetheart, you look like a six course meal in that getup. It’s a wonder no one ain’t gobbled you up already.”

She looks down at herself and purses her lips. “It is a tradeoff.”

“For what?”

Her mouth opens for a moment like she is going to answer then clicks shut. “It’s… thank you. For protecting me.”

For a moment he considers telling her he hadn’t been. That he was just guarding his stuff. Or that it was tit for tat since she had taken the first watch. But it wasn’t true - alive and unharmed included by other people. So instead he simply grumbles, “Don’t say nothing about it.”

Sighing, she lies back on the bed, stuffing her pack under her head with her feet facing the wall. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to get back to sleep.”

“Well, if you ain’t gonna use it…” he moves to the cot, shifting her legs so he can stretch out, back propped to the wall.

She snorts, closing her eyes. “Tell me a story.”

“You looking for some once upon a time fairy tale shit?”

“No,” another one of those low laughs, “you’ve been around a while, tell me something that happened… here.”

He considers her for a moment, stretched out next to him. There’s about a dozen better ways to pass the time that he can think of offhand, but quite a few of them require him to be the kind of man he swore never to be. He didn’t have many lines in the sand, but that was one. Faded and brushed over as it was - it weren’t like he had much of a call to use it.

“You ever seen a naked mole rat fuck a Brahmin?”

That laughter would have to be enough.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[lazycranberrydoodles]

you’d think after 800 years he’d learn his lesson about taking afternoon naps. / prev comic / follow for more sleepy xie lian

[clownsuu]

I finally have some free time to draw sketches and tell you about my headcannons with (young) Harvey and Dr. Stone!! 💥💥

The first headcanon: Harvey really likes to touch Stone's funny sticking-out hair with his antennae (I have no idea what to call it lol). OF COURSE, Dr. Stone gets angry, and Harvey just giggles and watches him—

The second headcanon: I thought it would be funny if Dr. Stone had (and maybe still has) a secret hobby of collecting minerals and stones. it's pretty funny that a sullen and angry dude collects and examines all sorts of stones, and then writes something in his book, muttering something under his nose. if Harvey somehow found out about his husband's hobby, he could throw him beautiful stones while he was going somewhere.

The third headcanon: Harvey loves hugging Dr. Stone very much, when he does this, this old fart immediately starts to get angry and swear, but after 15-20 minutes calms down and falls asleep. maybe Harvey does this on purpose so that his husband at least sometimes gets a full sleep

(not) Old people,,,,

[cal-cium-the-nerd]

Fandom: One Piece Words: 530 Relationships: Jean Bart & Hakugan Characters: Jean Bart, Hakugan Summary: “I’m not suited for it,” Jean Bart replies, instead. “It hasn’t been a month since I stepped aboard, it’s not wise to trust me with the lives of the crew.” Heart Pirates Week - Day 1 ღ Jean Bart ღ Cursed

Am I ridiculously late to this event? Yes, I am. Am I posting this anyways? Yes, I am!! I’ve got drafts for all nine days, but lately life has been bonking me with a window frame and then pouring boiling paint on my head, before rinsing and repeating, so who knows when/if I’ll finish anything else

[agnesandhilda]

they should invent a day with enough hours in it for me to get all my tasks done without having to turn into a joyless husk

[vvitchering]

What is it about being awake past 9 pm that summons The Horrors lately like damn

[deicide-doll]

trigger warning. do not read if you dont want to read something triggering.

[lesbiansanemi]

Do you think if I wish hard enough my mom will get electrocuted by a string of Christmas lights and just go up in a cloud of smoke. It’d be a Christmas miracle