#secret des affaires

[dalilamadjid]

#41 : Le secret des affaires et le droit de la preuve

Photo: Caleb Oquendo Un arrêt de la chambre commerciale de la cour de cassation du 5 juin 2024 a donné une nouvelle illustration de la faible résistance du secret des affaires face au droit de la preuve. Dans cette affaire, des sociétés concurrentes, dans le secteur d’activité de la fabrication et de la vente à emporter de pizzas, ont produit au cours des débats judiciaires, des documents…

[dontyoulistentome]

At first I didn't get people shipping Lazlo and Guillermo just because they were coparents (okay when I type that out, it is certainly a point in favour of the ship). But then that moment at the end of the last episode...

While Guillermo has plenty of batshit moments, he's usually playing straight man (hah) to the vampires, who are comparatively much sillier.

But when he shares his deepest secret with Lazlo, they are both equally hurt and horrified. Sure, there's the burrito joke, but it's said like a desperate plea; can't we go back to before you told me the unimaginable?

Before this moment, Guillermo is almost always out of synch with his vampiric housemates/ baby overlords.

But in this moment, emotionally, Guillermo and Lazlo are on the same level.

[sancho-et-compagnie]

En 1965, la France passe un contrat avec l’État d’Israël pour la vente de 12 vedettes lance-missiles. Un chantier naval de Cherbourg, les Constructions mécaniques de Normandie (CMN), est chargé de l’exécution de la commande. Mais après la Guerre des Six Jours, le général de Gaulle décrète un embargo sur la vente d’armes à destination d’Israël. Cinq de ces vedettes sont livrées avant l’embargo, deux «disparaissent en mer» la veille de l’embargo et les cinq autres sont gardées dans le port de commerce de Cherbourg. Une ruse est alors mise au point : une société norvégienne, la Starboat and Oil Drilling Company, créée pour la circonstance, demande à la France et à Israël de récupérer les vedettes car ces navires, sans armement, l’intéressent, prétendument pour faire de la recherche pétrolière en mer du Nord. L’État hébreu accepte d’autant plus facilement qu’il est à l’origine de la manœuvre par le biais de ses services secrets. Il fournit même les équipages. Dans la nuit du 24 au 25 décembre, vers 2 heures du matin, les vedettes prennent le large. Elles arrivent à Haïfa le jour de l’an.

[gracieheartspedro]

Nobody Likes A Secret

pairing: no outbreak rich older!joel miller x fem!reader.

how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters

word count: 3k words

description: a rich wealthy playboy who becomes enthralled by his neighbor's daughter. it never ends well when he can not fathom having happiness for himself.

warnings: ANGSTY!!!!!, age gap (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her mid 20s), wealthy!joel, neighbor!joel, reader is pretty naive and delusional, taboo relationship troupe, mentions of parent death, VERY BRIEF SMUT, joel is borderline evil and very mean. joel calls reader "kid". joel is also a liar. talks of having children.

author’s note: I wrote this all in like... two nights. I listened to illicit affair by taylor swift and nobody likes a secret by lizzy mcalpine a lil much and it ended up here. sorry if I make you sad.

You creep into the large 4-car garage, seeing Joel pacing the oil-stained floor. He’s still in his work clothes, but he looks a bit disheveled. His eyes are wild, his face downturned into a deep-set frown. 

“Joel? Everything okay?”

He shakes his head. “He knows.”

You know only one person who would ruin this. 

‘This’ being an 9-month-long affair with your older neighbor. Months and months of meeting in dark corners, hardly ever seeing each other in the light. 

“How?”

Joel fumbles trying to pull his phone out of his pocket, showing you the 5 missed calls from your Dad. You stare at it blankly, tightening your jaw at the possibility that your Dad is too smart for his own good. Shit, he does know, doesn’t he? He throws the phone down on a nearby leather couch that is positioned near a workbench. Joel was pretty good with his hands, but lately his mind has been anywhere but tinkering with wood in his garage. 

“He came over an hour ago. Sat me down and told me that he was getting suspicious of some outings you’ve had over the last couple months. Said he realized you were not going to the places you said you were going to. So he assumed you had a new boyfriend or something. Then last night…”

You curl your hands into a fist. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck,” Joel grumbles, running his hands over his face, dragging his lower lids down in frustration, “He said that if I know anything or see anything, I am to let him know immediately. He’s worried you’re fuckin’ around with the wrong guy.”

You had snuck out of your house last night and tiptoed your way into Joel’s car, which was parked in a nearby cul de sac. He promised you a nice late dinner in the city and then he ravished you in a hotel room you two didn’t even spend the night in. He brought you home around 4 am and you snuck back into your bedroom, ensuring nothing in your home was stirred. When you woke up the next morning, your father left you a note that he wanted to do dinner with you that night. Meaning tonight. 

You know this is detrimental, and while you do not want to freak out immediately, you can not help but feel like someone is stabbing you directly in the chest. Joel’s body language is giving off negative signals, so even though you want to hug him and tell him that you can talk to your Dad, you know it’s not going to change much.

Your eyes well with tears, thinking of how this was going to ruin everything. After months and months, you thought you were being so smart.

“We can’t do this anymore,” He whispers.

And God damn, did Joel hate seeing you cry. 

But the tear-filled eyes you are giving him are warranted. You don’t turn away from him like usual. You never wanted to show him any weakness. 

This time you confront him, your nose turning upward and your eyes full of disdain. 

“You said we were being careful,” You murmur, the salty tears falling down your cheeks.

“Not careful enough.”

The bitterness tastes like blood in your mouth. You want to scream at him but keep an even tone instead, “Joel… Just let me talk to him.”

“You knew where this was gonna end up,” He states plainly, his voice not wavering. 

And maybe he was right, but you enjoyed living in a loved-up delusion. Maybe it was the sex or maybe it was the looks he gave you from across densely populated parties you were forced to go to. You would put on a show long enough to make your father happy and then you would somehow sneak away with Joel. You knew if your father caught you with the much older man, he would lose his mind, so you were always cautious. You made sure the doors were locked. The moans would stay hushed. The car was parked far from your front door. And during the time spent away from the house, you would get a girlfriend to lie for you. You were always so careful. 

“Maybe he suspects it’s someone else.” you try to reassure him, but you know it’s falling on deaf ears.

“You know he knows it’s me.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

Joel rolls his eyes. He knows that your father’s words were simply a warning. If you two continued this schtick, you know better than anyone your father would find out. You knew he already kind of had eyes on you and Joel had caught on to a couple of neighbors watching him from their bedroom windows. He gives your father credit, he was thorough. 

“We have to stop.”

You did not realize how much your heart was banking on making this work. Joel was about 25 years older, so deep down, you knew that no one would accept the relationship. But in your wildest fantasies, you imagined you two would run away together. He had tons of money, you had nothing tying you down, and it could be a perfect escape. You had brought it up one night after you snuck over to his bed and he didn’t explicitly say no. He just giggled and continued tracing circles on your bare back. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, “So you just… don’t want me anymore?”

He huffs, already annoyed you were making it seem like he had a choice.

“It was never gonna work out in the first place, kid.”

You just stare at him. The nickname hit harder than it ever has. After months of sneaking around with you, Joel only ever saw you as that. A kid. 

“Don’t call me that. Ever.”

He notices the rise in your voice and quickly realizes he made a mistake. 

“Listen-”

It’s like every terrible emotion you have ever had comes bubbling to the surface. The resentment you held towards him when he ignored your calls some nights. Or when he refused to get near you at any party. You had your grievances, but you sat there like a good girl and just accepted him the way he was.

It’s like acid in your throat, it burns. 

“No, you listen,” You snap, “You don’t get to play the kid card. You chose this just as much as I did. You told me that my age didn’t matter. You told me that you would want children with me one day. You filled my head with all this bullshit and now when shit gets real, you walk away. You’re a fuckin’ coward, Joel.”

“My reputation and livelihood is on the line for this! You think I don’t still want those things?”

“If you wanted them bad enough, you would fight for me.”

It makes his face drop. His furrowed eyebrows relax and his mouth droops down into a subtle frown. 

You do not know where to go from here. The atmosphere in his garage rises with tension, words just hanging in the air. 

The Annual Miller Christmas Party was the talk of the town. Everyone who received an invitation would proudly display the cardstock on their huge fridges and show their uninvited neighbors to brag. When Joel came over to hand deliver you and your father’s invitations, he told you to wear something sparkly. 

You searched everywhere for the perfect gown for weeks. He had only really shown you attention when forced to be in the same room as you, so you needed to be eye-catching. He was never the guy to wave to you when he was leaving for work or say a quiet hello at the grocery store. Joel was a very regimented man. He never strayed away from his routine which was usually work, hookups with random women, and sleep. He never kept a woman around for too long. You noticed the circulation of women changed every month or so. Joel never wanted to settle down. He had tried that once 15 years ago and his ex ended up with half of his company. 

But you always loved the way the man carried him. Despite his playboy behavior, you were entranced with him. You always thought he was handsome and when you came home at 25 to help your mother who had fallen sick, you knew that your crush had morphed into borderline obsession. Living next to him would be dangerous.

The dress you chose was red, which was fitting for the occasion. And of course, it was sparkly. Just what Joel ordered. 

You spent all day preparing for the evening and when you showed up on his front door on your Father’s arm, he could not peel his eyes away. You were so radiant and perfect. The twinkle in your eyes shone brighter than the glitter on your gown. 

During the night, you drank a couple of glasses of champagne and chatted up some of your Father’s colleagues. You notice Joel’s eyes following you every so often. You can vividly remember thinking, “This man wants me so bad.”

That night Joel cornered you in the hallway by the bathroom. He asked you if you were interested in literature, but really he just wanted you alone in his study. You being you, you enthusiastically said yes and followed him down the unlit corridor. Once he shut the huge wooden double doors, you knew that you would be slipping out of that gown for him in no time. 

And that’s exactly what happened. 

He drove you crazy, peppering kisses all down your body. He would groan every time he heard your shaky breath, knowing that the effect he had on you would become a dependence for him. 

When he first pressed into you, it was different than any other woman he’s ever been with. You did not throw your head back, moaning obscenities. Instead, you stared into his eyes and nodded, encouraging him to continue his movements. It was so sensual and passionate, by the time you two finished, he held you in his arms for 20 minutes. He was never one for pillow talk or aftercare, so he surprised himself.

You were different than any other woman he had ever encountered. 

You had slipped over to his front door a couple of days after the Christmas party, knocking to ask his assistant if he was home. When she brought you into his office, he told his assistant to shut the door on the way out. His eyes never left yours as you bantered to him. He loved your confidence. He bent you over his desk after 10 minutes, tugging up your skirt and swatting your ass for showing up on his doorstep looking “this beautiful”. 

Joel always made you feel so good. His dirty talk went to Harvard. He could make you cum over and over with his husky Southern accent. Every time he called you “darlin’” or “princess”, you would come undone. 

A couple of months into the entanglement, your Mother’s health deteriorated overnight. You and your Father stayed by her side when she took her last breaths. It was devastating, seeing the woman you looked up to your entire life slowly slip away. You felt like a shell of a person, unable to really harbor any feeling other than pain.

Joel called you and let you know he would not be able to attend the funeral due to work commitments. You did not care, understanding that there’s never a good time for someone to die and he had no obligation to come. You arrived at the funeral home and saw a huge arrangement of purple and blue flowers. On the card, was scribbled in his handwriting. 

“What a breath of fresh air she was. Thinking of her family, always. Joel Miller.”

When it was time for the burial, you watched a large SUV pull up right before the final words were going to be spoken. Joel hopped out the back and slowly approached, keeping his distance from you and the rest of the attendees. Once she was lowered into the ground, Joel came over to give his condolences to your inconsolable father. 

You stayed back, watching everyone except him leave. You sat in the first row of fold-out chairs, watching them throw dirt over her casket. He sat down next to you, never saying anything. His hand extended out, touching your hand that was resting on your lap. It was an unspoken thing, but you never felt more seen in your entire life. He somehow knew exactly what you needed. 

Someone next to you.

After a couple of months, you felt more like yourself. You called him one night, asking if he was available for a drive. He parked his truck in your usual meet-up spot. You crawled up into the passenger seat and asked him to drive. You did not care where. You two caught up and once he could tell you were getting back to some semblance of yourself, he made his move. He was stopped at a red light when he placed his hand on your thigh. It was the first time you had sex in his truck. That night kickstarted the affair again, which led to the secret meetings in hotel rooms. You two got more bold with your rendezvous, even taking a weekend to the mountains. You don’t even remember the lie you told your Father as to why you were gone. 

Joel always thought you were capable. He admired you for being such a dynamic woman. To be so strong and delicate at the same time was unheard of. Even though you were much younger than him, you were well-versed in everything. You were professional and smart when it came to business. All the while, you were polite and empathetic. He would frequently come to you when he needed advice about work or an opinion on something ethical. He enjoyed hearing you ramble on about things you were passionate about. And God, did he love your laugh. 

He did not expect to keep you around as long as he did. But your body was like a drug and Joel had a nasty habit. You were always eager and available, and after a while, Joel started thinking maybe it was too much all at once. When you became comfortable enough to sleep over in his bed and make him breakfast, he knew his world was tilted on its axis. 

He needed to find a way to ruin it for himself, as he had done so many times before. 

He “slipped up” one night. As he and his chatty neighbor Jeff sat outside and smoked cigars, he spoke about his desire for you. He didn’t particularly say that you two were together, but simply insinuated that he would like to have you alone. And the rumors spread quickly. Soon enough a little birdie was in your Dad’s ear, feeding him information. 

Joel kept up the act with you, even though it was not really an act. He did like you, hell, he may have even loved you. But he did not want you to need him. So when people started paying more attention to you and him, he knew his plan was set in motion. In no time, it would all come crashing down. 

“If your Dad takes this to the board, I will lose my company. Do you understand that?”

You hated that you understood stupid business jargon. You knew that Joel losing his company would be devastating. But at this point, you could not care less. Because for as long as your affair, you watched his walls fall away. He had let you in more than once and in your delusional state, you believed for a second that he would choose you over his job. 

You clench your teeth as you suck in a sharp breath, tears still streaming down your warm face. 

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then we just end it. This has already gone too far.”

You finally turn away from him, your eyes falling to the concrete floor. As soon as he says those words, chills run down your arms. 

“You know Joel…” You drift off, using your shirt sleeve as a tissue. You wipe away a couple of tears and glare back up at him, “I would have given up everything in my life for this. My job. My relationship with my father. Everything. And the fact that you won’t even give me a chance to talk to my Dad to see if he could spare you and this whole charade, really fucking hurts. I’m not worth that to you and that… That’s what hurts the most.”

“Babe-”

“No. You don’t get to call me that anymore. You don’t get to call me anything.”

The tears flow again as you watch him exhale, his hands on his hips. His hair is unkept and the tie he’s wearing has been loosened. 

“I’m sorry,” Is all he can say while your lip quivers. You are trying not to lose it completely. 

You just shake your head, “No. You’re not sorry.”

He was. He was sorry, but he could not let you ruin everything. 

Joel would soon know that you were everything. And as you left the back door that evening, leaving behind the scent of your perfume, he knew that the smell would somehow taint his sheets, even though you had not been in them for weeks. He already started to miss the feeling of your lips. When he tried to go about his evening, he swore he would see you in the shadows of his large house. He even thought he heard your laugh. You were already haunting him even though the death of your relationship happened just hours before. 

You moved on after a couple of years. Met a guy at your 9-5, settled down, and popped out a few kiddos. Some nights you would lie awake, wondering to yourself if Joel was really happy. You never learned the truth of his deceit. After all, your Father was just grateful that his warning to Joel led to his desired outcome, which was him being gone from your life entirely. 

And Joel would be haunted for the rest of his life. No woman. No drugs. No party. Nothing ever filled the void you left behind. And it was all his fault. Just like it always had been.

[hpowellsmith]

Honor Bound: Guard students and secrets at an elite school!

Steam | Google Play Store | Choice of Games on Android | Choice of Games on iOS | Choice of Games on Amazon | Webstore

Protect an exclusive boarding school and rebuild your life after scandal as a military bodyguard for the children of the rich and famous! Return to the world of Crème de la Crème, this time as a military officer in the Republic of Teran.

Honor Bound is an interactive novel by Harris Powell-Smith where your choices control the story. It's entirely text-based, 595,000 words and hundreds of choices, without graphics or sound effects, and fueled by the vast, unstoppable power of your imagination.

You've built a promising career in the Teranese military, a force which has not seen major engagement in decades but which holds vast influence. Thanks to an injury, you're no longer in the field. Thanks to the complicated (read: scandalous) circumstances of that injury, you've been quietly reassigned as a bodyguard for the teenage child of a famous scientist. This should be an easy assignment: your charge is at boarding school in the wilderness, an exclusive sanctuary where the children of the rich and powerful become artists and scientists of the future. The school sits close to your own hometown, so you'll be familiar with the area. Finally, you can recover your health and get your career back on track.

But danger is closing in, and peril can come from inside as well as out. What secret projects are your colleagues pursuing in the dead of night? What is your commanding officer not telling you? Bandits lurk in the wilderness—including one of your childhood friends!—and natural disasters constantly threaten the fragile environment. And then there's the danger to your heart, from the complicated feelings that come from returning to your birthplace, and from adjusting to the new reality of your life. Can you really go home again?

Build a warm community and bond with your colleagues, or impress everyone with your aloof competence. Chase ambition to receive glowing reports and get your life back on track—or become such a disaster that only bandits will tolerate your presence. Or, just maybe, you will have to risk it all for the sake of doing the right thing.

Play as male, female, or nonbinary; cis or trans; gay, straight, or bisexual; asexual and/or aromantic; allosexual and/or alloromantic; monogamous or polyamorous.

Customize your age: play a junior officer in your 20s, a mid-ranking officer in your 30s, or a senior officer in your 40s.

Befriend or romance a severe military officer; a bold, easygoing outdoors expert; a determined and overworked priest; an earnest but scatterbrained fellow bodyguard; a childhood friend turned disgraced bandit; or the anxious, serious widowed parent of your charge.

Pet the dog, the cat, or both.

Meet the main characters of Crème de la Crème, Royal Affairs, and Noblesse Oblige, and find out what their lives are like now!

Shape the school life of your teenage charge: encourage her to make friends or sabotage her rivals; let her slack off or push her to achieve; and get caught up in boarding-school drama.

Unearth and thwart shadowy schemes—or join in the scheming for your own gain.

How far will you go for ambition, duty, and your country?

Steam | Google Play Store | Choice of Games on Android | Choice of Games on iOS | Choice of Games on Amazon | Webstore

[lgbtpopcult]

Our Top 40 Lesbian Series of All Time 2025 Edition

40. Station 19

39. NCIS Hawaii

38. Under the Bridge

37. Atypical

36. Deadloch

35. Hightown

34. Wheel of Time

33. Vigil

32. Hazbin Hotel

31. The Haunting of Hill House

30. Dickinson

29. Sueños de libertad

28. Gap The Series

27. Orange is the new black

26. Orphan Black

25. 23.5

24. Las Pelotaris

23. La Palma

22. Petrichor

21. Special ops lioness

20. Strawberry Panic

19. Chaser Game w

18. The Owl House

17. Agatha all along

16. Skam Espana

15. Mate the series

14. Derry Girls

13. Monarch legacy of monsters

12. Affair The Series

11. Arcane

10. Yellowjackets

9. The loyal Pin

8. Pluto

7. Killing eve

6. US The Series

5. The haunting of Bly Manor

4. The last of us

3. Fingersmith

2. The secret of Us

1. Harley Quinn

[the-offside-rule]

Charles Leclerc (Scuderia Ferrari) - Friends?

Requested: yes

Prompt: 18) "My mom thinks we're dating."

Warnings: not really? Just fluff tbh

Charles nervously led Y/n into his family's vacation home, where his parents and siblings eagerly awaited. "You stay here every year for the summer break and you never invited me?!" Y/n exclaimed, looking all around as Charles carried her suitcase in. "I thought you didn't like the whole glamour of Monaco." He teased. "That was before I saw your holiday home." She chuckled. Y/n couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and confusion, having been invited on this family vacation without much explanation. "We're all going to have dinner at around 8 so I will leave you to unpack. I have to go help my mum with the cooking."

"Can I come? I haven't seen your mum in ages!" Charles swallowed the lump in his throat, earning a concerned look from Y/n. "What did you do?" She interrogated. "What? Nothing! I've done nothing!" Charles replied in an attempt to defend himself. "So why are you suddenly being so....unlike yourself?" He shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe you've changed since she saw you last? I-"

"Y/n!" Charles stopped his talking as he heard his mother Pascale entering the room. Y/n's bright smile returned to her face as she spotted the wonderous woman walking towards her with open arms. "Oh, I've been waiting for Charles to bring you! I haven't seen you in a while!" She grinned, kissing Y/n's cheeks. "It's good to be here. I can't believe I haven't been invited sooner." Y/n and Pascale both looked over to Charles who stood by the suitcase. "Charles, it's wonderful that you brought Y/n along." She paused, looking to Charles and switching to French. "Est-ce qu'elle sait que je sais?" Charles shook his head. "Non, maman. Elle veut toujours que cela reste privé pour le moment."

"Eh bien, privé ne veut pas dire secret." Y/n looked between the pair, slightly confused as she didn't speak the language. "Mamon, s'il vous plaît-" He began, but Pscale began to walk away, waving her hands in the air. "Non, non, Charles. Je vais partir et aller cuisiner. Je m'occuperai de mes affaires et je te laisserai aider ta copine à s'installer." She turned back to Y/n. "Bisous!" She smiled, before closing the door. Charles let out a sigh of relief. "What was that about?" Y/n asked. "Just dinner. I will- Yes. I'll let you change for dinner and I'll see you at 8."

As the Leclerc family gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and laughter. Charles Leclerc sat beside his friend Y/n, stealing glances and sharing smiles throughout the meal. Pascale, Charles' mother, couldn't help but notice the chemistry between the two. During the delicious main course, Pascale set her fork down and looked at Y/n with a twinkle in her eye. "Y/n, dear, Charles will not stop talking about you." Charles sighs as Y/n grins, highly amused. "Oh really? Isn't he just so sweet?" She teased.

"And Charles, how long did you say you two have been together?" Pascale asked, her eyes twinkling again with curiosity. Y/n's gentle expression had turned into knotted brows, confusion clouding her mind. She stole a glance at Charles, who offered her a reassuring smile before answering. "Oh, we've been together for a while now." Charles replied smoothly, his tone tinged with amusement, before reaching for Y/n's hand beside him. Y/n's mind raced as she tried to make sense of Charles' response. She had never considered him anything more than a friend, and now she found herself unwittingly caught in a web of deception.

"So, Y/n, what made you and Charles decide to start dating all of a sudden?" Pascale inquired with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Y/n nearly choked on her wine, as Charles masked a laugh. "Oh, you know Pascale, sometimes these things just happen." Y/n replied, trying to play along. Pascale's eyes sparkled as she nodded knowingly. Charles nodde too, playing along with the story Y/n had come up with. "That's wonderful! I'm so happy to hear that. I am so happy none of the journalists have found out yet. You two must be discreet." Y/n chuckled nervously, "Yes, we like to keep things private. At one stage, we were so secretive, I didn't even know we were together." The family laughed along as Y/n kicked Charles under the table. A silent wince left his lips.

"Well, I think I should go and clean these dishes. How about-"

"Charles and I will do them, Pascale. Honest." Pascale smiled approvingly of Y/n. "If you insist." Y/n nodded, grabbing Charles quite firmly to make him follow her to the kitchen with various plates. Once the door had closed, Y/n turned to Charles, frustration evident in her eyes. "What on earth was that, Charles?" Charles placed the plates into the sink. "Oh by the way, Y/n. My mum thinks we are dating." His poor attempt of a joke didn't land too well, but the tea towel Y/n had thrown at him did. Charles sighed, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Look, I didn't know how to explain why you're suddenly here, so I may have mentioned we're together." He explained. "What the hell, Charles? You didn't tell me about this plan! I thought we were just friends!" Y/n whispered, trying not to let their ruse be overheard.

Charles had stopped thinking of the plates now and had instead turned his focus to trying to stop Y/n from telling Pascale the truth. "I know, I know. My mom can be relentless with her questions about my love life. I didn't want her prying too much, so I improvised. Sorry about that." Y/n sighed, holding the bridge of her nose. "Well, it's a bit late now. We need to figure this out before it gets more complicated."

Charles nodded, engulfing her in a hug and resting his chin on top of her head. "Agreed." They pondered for a moment, before Charles came up with a plan. "How about we make a deal?" Y/n looked up to him, almost as if to tell him to continue. "We'll keep up the charade for a while, and I promise to come clean with my mom when the time is right. In the meantime, we can use this to our advantage somehow." Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Alright, but you owe me big time for this. What's the plan?"

Charles smirked. "We can use this 'relationship' to our advantage. You get to spend the summer here, and it'll keep my mom off my back for a while. Deal?" Y/n sighed again, running her hands through her hair. "Fine, deal. But this better not turn into a soap opera. We're just friends, got it?" Charles chuckled, reaching his hand out and shaking hers. "Got it. Just friends."

[hardlyinteresting]

Love, Guilt and Other Wounds

Aaron Hotchner x female reader

When Aaron and his partner are taken hostage, he has to break her heart to save her life.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, a little bit of domestic fluff, mention of blood, injury (non-graphic), hostage situation, knives, cannon-compliant themes of violence, non-detailed discussion about religion (Christianity), themes of childhood abuse, please let me know if you want me to add anything else.

Word count: (less than I expected, sorry) 3.7k  Request here! | Masterlist

"Of course, I’ll hurt you. Of course, you’ll hurt me. Of course, we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence". - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Aaron isn't sure if he believes in a God or a higher power. He was taught to read scripture; and spent Sunday mornings perfecting his posture in church pews-- starched shirts and neckties pulled too tight. The preacher's sermons left him wanting-- wondering how this man of God could stand over his congregation preaching every week, and not see all the lies they were holding back. How could he not see the secrets Aaron seemed to read so clearly? At just fourteen Aaron knew who was having an affair and with whom. He could see which children feared their fathers. Every pew had another story, another family growing together, or falling apart. The hypocrisy of it all drove him mad, and he imagined standing from his seat to shout it, overwhelmed as he realized he had unintentionally become the keeper of everyone's secrets. He learned that everyone in that church was a liar in their own right, and he hated it. But, when he left for college, his mother called to ask if he was still going to church on Sundays, and he lied and said yes. 

He should have paid more attention. Maybe then he'd understand how he ended up here. Perhaps it's some sick retribution. A cosmic evening of the scales; his penance for his sins. He just wishes you weren't here with him. How dare he think he could love someone when all he's ever done is punish those who love him? His hands are stained with blood; he taints everything he touches. 

Very early on in his career, Aaron learned he couldn’t take cases personally. As devastating as it was to have another victim show up while hunting a killer, it wasn’t a personal failure. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He repeated the process again and again. Logically he knows that he is not responsible for the actions of the aggressive sociopath who is now holding the two of you hostage; but, he blames himself for not keeping you safer, for bringing you with him, and for putting you in harm's way. He knows he will not recover if you don’t make it out of here. He won’t forgive himself. 

The profile said this man would be anti-social. Physically, he’d be small in stature. It was clear he’d been sneaking up on his victims. He had been taking couples, knocking out the men with a blow to the back of the head, and then the women. It’s a method that the team had seen before, common for UNSUBs without the social ability to lure their victims, or the physical strength or confidence to attack head-on. But they had not profiled that he would escalate to taking out his targets with a taser. 

After six days in San Diego, the team finally had a lead on two rental properties in the UNSUB’s comfort zone. One was an old tyre factory, listed as a multipurpose warehouse and storage space; the other was a large storage facility in an industrial neighbourhood. Both units had been paid for in cash, both offered the privacy and space required to hold and torture two people for days at a time. The team split up, Hotch and you arranged to meet the owner of the factory space to find out more about who the renter was and gain access to the property. With no response from the owner of the second property, Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi headed over to check it out. 

The two of you had only been on the property for five minutes before Aaron had been incapacitated and taken out. He had foolishly made his way into the building while you ran back to the SUV to grab your jacket. Out cold, there was nothing Aaron could do to stop you from meeting the same fate. 

It’s not his fault. But he feels like it is as he watches you shiver from across the room. He can’t be certain how much time has passed, but it feels like hours. He can only hope that you’re being kept in the building you were attacked in, that the team will connect the dots and come and get you, but until then you’re stuck. He watches, nauseated as your eyes flutter open, and then shut again. You’re concussed, he doesn’t need to be a doctor to know that. His ears are ringing, and he’s sure the blow he took to the head has at the very least temporarily worsened his hearing. 

“Doesn’t the FBI have rules against fraternization?” The UNSUB wonders out loud, waving a knife around as he walks towards you. 

“What makes you think we’re a couple?” Hotch asks, as he tries to work his hands free from the rope that binds them behind his back, “She’s just a colleague”. 

It’s a lie. But it needs to be said. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. Buy time, shift the UNSUB’s interest away from the two of you. Ruin the fantasy.

“I think I’ve been doing this long enough to know a couple when I see a couple, Aaron,” the man taunts, obviously proud of himself. He’s feeling emboldened having taken two FBI agents, but that works in your favour. He’s getting cocky, too full of himself. It’s a level of confidence he isn’t used to having, it just gives him a higher height to fall from. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. “I think it’s time we wake your girlfriend up,” the man says, his hand gripping tightly at your hair, your head tugged back without remorse. 

Aaron resists the urge to cringe as he hears you groan, your face twisted with obvious pain as you’re rudely awakened. “She’s pretty. What’s she doing with you?” 

“I told you. She’s a colleague”. 

Your eyes are unfocused, scanning the room trying to make sense of what is going on. 

The man raises the knife, holding it to your throat. This time Aaron blinks, desperate to control his expressions and micro-expressions. In this scenario, the less he cares about you, the safer you are. 

It’s the burden of being tied to him. Time after time his love destroys people. 

The blade presses closer to your throat. Aaron controls his breathing. 

“Impressive agent Hotchner. But I’m still not convinced,” the UNSUB moves the blade but pulls your head back further. Your eyes meet Aaron’s, “Do what you’re going to do, he doesn’t care,” you say. You’re speaking to the man with the knife in his hand as much as you’re speaking to Aaron. He weighs his options, his heart pounding as he watches you hold your breath, willing the tears to leave your eyes. It’s the permission he needs but doesn’t want.  Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He knows you’re doing the same, telling him to break your heart to save your life. 

“Please, Hotc--”. 

He doesn’t let you finish, “Just shut up for once. Please,” he thinks the words cut through him more than they cut through you. Knowing his cruelty is a lie does little to soften the blow, and it breaks his heart to be the one throwing it. 

But this is all he’s good for, isn’t it? Letting people down. Surely it’s not just coincidence that so many of those who have dared to love him end up damaged. One way or another he destroys people. Who is he to say that he’s the one who is suffering when it’s he who does all the damage? 

Even as a child, he couldn’t help it. He thinks perhaps he inherited his sharpened tongue and lack of patience from his mother. She loved him in her own way but could never show it without first tearing him apart. Her biting words, and regular beatings. Prentiss had been right when she once said he was distrustful of women-- unfairly so. Not all women carry the hateful, spiteful heart his mother had. Very few had ever turned their rage at the world and their shortcomings into a personal and violent rage against him. He grew weary nonetheless. Better safe than sorry.

 At a young age, it became clear to him that there were few things, if anything, as important to his mother than appearances. On Sundays, she fussed over his clothes and his posture. She lectured him on table manners from the moment he could hold a fork. His room had to be spotless. His grades had to surpass average. Long before his brother was ever born, he learned how to live up to her expectations. But still, there was always something she could find him lacking in, an excuse to take her open fist or wooden spoon to his skin, a reason to send him to bed without dinner. He remembers crashing into the china cabinet trying to escape her one night. She was mortified on Monday when he had to walk into school on Monday with a cast around his arm. “Make sure they know this was your fault,” she told him. Perhaps I was built to fail, he had thought. She loves me and I embarrass her. I will only ever let her down. God, how disappointed she would be to see him now.  

Seconds feel like hours as the UNSUB leers expectantly. The man's mouth twists into a smile when he sees the tears forming in your waterline again. Aaron watches your fist clench presumably to distract yourself from the migraine that matches the pounding in his head, just as much as it is to pull your attention away from the hurtful lies he's about to weave. 

“You were supposed to have my back,” Arron spits with faux vitriol. “You had one job and couldn't even manage to do that”. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. 

“From the moment you showed up I knew you'd be a problem”. 

He continues to try to work his hands out from the binds. He can feel the knot loosening as he continues to buy the two of you time. “Aaron,” you beg, tears slipping down your cheeks now. 

“Following me around with some school girl crush. Look where we are now,” Aaron breathes. 

He can feel his father’s rage resting on his shoulders, as heavy as his hands were when he used to pat him on the back. It’s a quiet burning, far more silent than his mother’s anger, but it’s there and threatening him all the same. A silent shame; a fear induced by the knowledge that he’s failing but not being able to stop it. His father lived like a ghost in their home, just as Aaron has learned to haunt his life. He only ever raised his voice when he drank, but even then his hatred was self-directed. A sorrowful self-pity. A cry for help. The affairs, the gambling, the drinking; the man punished himself, stumbling home to a house with a vengeful wife, a silent boy, and a crying baby. It was a heart attack that finally killed him, but Aaron never doubted his father had stopped living long before that. 

Aaron breaks his own heart as he delivers each verbal blow. He hopes you understand. He prays that just maybe your concussion might leave the memories of this moment blurry. Selfishly, he begs you to forgive him, because he won’t forgive himself. 

He can see the way your wrists strain against your restraints. The UNSUB adjusts his grip on your hair as you struggle to distance yourself from him. Your eyelids flutter and he knows your vision must be swimming but you don’t give up. With a sadistic grin, the UNSUB wipes at the tear stain on your cheek with fake sympathy, grasping your jaw roughly he forces you to look straight at Aaron, “Poor girl… guess boss man doesn’t care about you after all. What a waste,” he sighs his breath heavy against your cheek, as he moves to hold the knife to your throat again, “She’s so pretty,” he directs his commentary at Aaron this time. 

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’ve slept with her. How couldn’t I when she was practically throwing herself at me?” The words taste bitter on his tongue as he speaks them. His stomach churns as he continues, “But what we have certainly isn’t love”. 

It couldn’t be further from the truth. Aaron grounds himself choosing to remember the quiet morning you two had shared only a few days earlier. Waking up without an alarm but with Jack sneaking in to jump up on the bed. As he watches you cry now he recalls how you had smiled so brightly at the little boy, ruffling his hair and cuddling Jack into your side. He had watched with a smile of his own as you bargained with his son, promising pancakes in exchange for ten more minutes of sleep on your shared day off. 

You crept into his heart so slowly he had hardly noticed. Until one day, he looked up from the bright pink sticky note you'd left on your recent report, reminding him not to work too hard; he knew, without a doubt, he was in love with you. 

For so much of his life, Aaron conditioned himself to expect a fight around every corner. He learned to make sacrifices from his happiness in fruitless attempts to keep peace. For the first time in forever he's been feeling like maybe, just maybe, he's enough. You’ve been more than patient with him; understanding his hesitance to open up to people again. You don't get upset with him for working late, but you scold him for not getting enough sleep and skipping meals. 

He smiles more. He cracks jokes the way he used to. You've helped him see the forest from the trees--  healed parts of him he didn’t know needed mending. He's tried to do the same for you. He's watched you open up and trust the team more. He's seen the way your confidence has grown and he can't take credit for your growth, but he's enamoured by the transformation just the same. 

You deserve better. You deserve better. You deserve better. The thought echoes in his head the same as it does most days. But now, it’s louder. The voice in his head matches the volume of the ringing in his ears, and the rushing sound of his pounding heart. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He fights to remind himself, but the UNSUB is laughing now. Taunting you and your emotions, and there’s nothing Aaron can do but sit there and watch. He struggles to feign indifference, watching as you continue to make yourself smaller. It’s only then that he notices that you too are working your hands out of the rope that restrains you. The UNSUB was stupid enough to tie your wrist in front of you.

Aaron’s eyes focus on the bandaid wrapped around your index finger. You cut yourself making dinner last week. He could have sworn his heart melted when you turned to him holding your hand out, blood beading already. “Aaron, where do you keep your first aid kit?” you’d asked. Your brows furrowed, and your lips pouted. “In the bathroom, the cabinet under the sink,” he’d answered with no intention of letting you go off and tend to your wound alone. Instead, he guided you down the hall, his left hand looped in a gentle hold around your wrist, his other hand on your waist. 

Once you were sat on the countertop he took great care, making sure the wound was cleaned before he bandaged it. “My hero,” you teased, leaning in for a kiss. 

A simple cut he could manage to fix. Jack promised you could use as many of his Star Wars bandaids as you wanted while you healed as well. A little love and patience could make it better, a philosophy he adopted to heal Jack’s scraped knees, and schoolyard bruises. But the sight before him now is far worse than any kitchen mishap could be. 

Your nose is still bleeding. Bruises have already begun to form, red marks turning deep purple with every passing minute. He knows that your concussion is something you'll recover from. The contact burns from where the taser touched your skin will become new skin someday soon. The cuts and scrapes will scab over and then disappear. 

Aaron worries the damage he's done can never truly be ameliorated. Your compassion is unmatched. It’s what makes you a good agent, a good partner, and someone Jack can turn to. You are forgiving. God knows you've excused enough of his behaviour. But, he doesn't deserve to be absolved of this guilt. He will carry this day around in the darkest corner of his heart; the same place he holds the memory of Haley and how he failed her. The words “what we have certainly isn't love,” will linger uneffaced by time or kind words. 

The squeak of an old door opening piques Aaron's interest. The UNSUB doesn't react. Seemingly only interested in tracing the tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes are closing again. It's over now, he wants to tell you. He wants to hold you; comfort you; to apologise because you deserve to hear it anyway.

“Paul Simpson. FBI,” Morgan’s voice booms, “drop the knife and put your hands where I can see them”. Prentiss and Dave come to stand next to Morgan, their guns trained on the newly identified perpetrator. Aaron bites his tongue so hard he can taste blood-- it's all he can do to stop himself from bursting into a fit of bitter laughter. We win, he wants to say. 

Disarmed and handcuffed, Paul is escorted outside by Morgan and two members of the local police. Prentiss and Rossi make quick work of untying you and Aaron. 

“Aaron?” he can hear you mutter, breathy and quiet. 

“Yeah, I’m right here,” he promises kneeling at your side. Your eyes are glazed and unfocused as you nod and tip forward. Unconscious, your entire body falls forward into Prentiss’ arms. Aaron’s voice joins Rossi in calling for a paramedic. 

The doctors assure him that you’ll wake up soon. They dealt with his injuries quickly. Bruised ribs are the worst of his injuries. A cut at the back of his head and the taser burns were patched in only a few minutes, though he’ll readily admit he was far from a good patient. Too anxious to keep still much to the nurse’s dismay. 

You’re still asleep. A major concussion will have you out of the field for much longer than he knows you’ll be happy with. He makes a mental note to start setting aside some extra paperwork for when you inevitably start hounding him for something to do. With the lights in the room dimmed, and a comfortable silence settling he allows himself to indulge in the illusion that everything might be alright between you. 

With your hand in his, he breathes deeply trying to focus. He prays to a God he’s not sure he believes in. And when the quiet starts to get to him, he speaks out loud, as silly as he thinks he may look. He tells you about the phone call he had with Jack earlier and lets you know that Jack has a new painting he can’t wait to show you when you get home. Your hand squeezes his, encouraging him to keep talking.

“Aaron?” your eyelids flutter as you adjust to the light. The nurse had them turned to the dimmest setting but it’s still far more than you feel immediately capable of coping with. 

“Yeah, honey,” he affirms. You release the breath you’re holding your brow relaxing.  

“I love you,” you tell him. Your voice is steady and steadfast. Your resolve is impressive, unwavering and determined as you focus on making eye contact with him. “It’s not your fault,” you promise. He’s sure you don’t expect the weight on his shoulders to lighten instantaneously. You’ll tell him every day that he’s not to blame; intent on chiselling away at his guilt, shrinking it down before it manages to consume him. 

“I love you,” he swears. He knows it won’t squash any of the doubt he’s planted. Aaron knows there will soon be days that the niggling insecurity threatens to break what you’ve managed to build together; when the worry that you aren’t enough seems louder than it ever has before. He won’t blame you if you decide it isn’t worth the pain of staying with him. But, he’s hell-bent on loving you through it. He can only hope that it’s enough. 

[hopeastrz]

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬; 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲🌻✨

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬!! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝟏,𝟐𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞!!💛💛

𝐋𝐞𝐨 in the 𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° on the 𝐀𝐂

Everyone wishes the best for themselves, and you aren’t an exception, but without doubt you make it your life mission to have the most perfect looks. No one touches your hair, only the most elite hairdressers can, in other words and in a more general sense you’re really picky in your appearance, the way you present yourself to the world, physical body, beauty, presence, ambition, your outward behavior.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Picky in the food you eat or cook, restaurants and cafés you go to, beauty products, perfumes, make up, just how you spend/manage your money in all aspects, you have the most expensive material possessions, like paintings, antiques, and also your music taste is quite unique, you only listen to specific chosen artists and songs!

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Picky in the conversations you decide to take part to or listen to, picky to whom you speak to, picky in the thoughts that swarm your mind, picky in your transportations and your cars?, you may not like going to the subway. the ideas and informations you indulge in, picky in your cell phone brand, social media accounts, gossips and short trips you take.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐂.

Picky in your home decor, the place where your home is especially if you live alone, the neighborhood/ place of residence you chose may be quite luxurious, picky in your self care products, things that give you comfort, and maybe even with whom you decide to start a family with, also maybe you have a picky mother!.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟓𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟓𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Picky in what gives you pleasure, places you go to for fun, your hobbies, arts, movies you watch, hair products?, games you play, places you go for vacations, concerts, festivals, carnivals, malls and cinemas, just open air places, and maybe even your boyfriends and short-term partners!.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟔𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟔𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Picky in your self care, self care products, strict workout routine/workout place, you only go to the best gyms, picky in your hygiene products, in your workplace, daily routine, tasks, picky in your diets, in your pets, you pick the best food for them etc..

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐂 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

You’re picky in long term relationships, picky to those you chose to marry, picky in everything related to marriage, picky in people whom you’re attracted to, picky in your business partners, in your close associates and love affairs.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Picky in sex, picky in your kinks, things you’d inherit, people you’re intimate with, picky with whom you share you secrets with, if you’re into astrology and taboo stuff in general you don’t share these topics with everyone, and if you ever let’s say book a tarot reading you only choose the crème de la crème of tarot readers.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

You probably went to one of the best universities, or like had an expensive college major, you’re picky in your beliefs, philosophies, languages and things you learn, also picky in the books you read, maybe even to where you travel daily too and media you consume.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐂.

One of my favorite placements to have in a chart, you’re picky in the career you pursue, salary, and your public image, meaning you take a good care in what you chose to display to the public, since you catch people’s attention easily, you’re also picky in your responsibilities and your professional matters/long term goals.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Obviously picky with whom you befreiend, your friend group, close friends circle and even people you know on the social media, you tend to attract lots of famous and wealthy friends, I’m talking like meeting princess or actual celebrities. Picky in where you party, clubs you go to, you may be part of exclusive membership clubs or something, Picky in your desires, films you watch too, you have a very high manifestations, ideals and hopes, you dream big!

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟐𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟐𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Picky in whom you let get close to you, picky in your sleep/ sleep environment, you can’t just sleep anywhere, like you may need the place to be absolutely tidy, only sweet when there’s a sweet calming aroma wafting through the air, and on your silky sheets only too. Picky in your fears, picky in your hidden desires, who you chose to spill your past with.

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝟏𝟓 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞!.

[vagabond-umlaut]

affaire de cœur

Plucking one's heart from their chest and devouring it is all 'affairs of the heart' meant to the King of Curses— until his Queen walked onto the stage of his life, that is.

▸ trueform!sukuna x wife!reader; comprises of elements inspired by the tale of 'hades and persephone'; gallons of domestic fluff between sukuna and reader; hints of spicy times; no warnings except sukuna is very much sukuna here but you too are there, so he's sort of a better sukuna... [not loads better, though]

▸ belongs to the series 'mine? yes, mine.' but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"Repeat those words after me, my lord."

"No."

The pouty face you vault his way from the other end of the bathhouse makes Sukuna huff an annoyed sigh. Few monsoons back, you would never even see him in the eye, gaze trained on his feet – until he lifted your chin up; even then you would shyly avert your gaze — yet, now?

Now, you show the boldness to wear such a pathetic expression while making such an imbecilic request– nay, demand of him– locking your gaze with his the entirety of the time, no less.

Another sigh finds its route past his lips. Watching the way those sin-filled lips of yours twitch in a tiny smile before dipping into a pout, he groans.

"Alright. Fine," Sukuna grumbles, resting his two arms on the edge of the tub while the other two move to card through his damp hair, "Will you ever leave me for another, woman?"

Your eyebrows rise for a beat, the second the question you chomped his ears off earlier for, leaves his mouth. Your lover rolls his eyes, loud scoffs erupting from him at the utter inanity of the whole situation at hand — you, not beside by him, but beside those damned towels and bath soaps; him, not soaking in the warmth of your flesh but of these bath waters; the humid bathhouse not resonating with the sounds of your whines but with the remnants of a query, whose answer he does not care the least for, for no matter what you say or do, he will not—

"Yes, I will."

Your clear voice scatters his thoughts away, akin a strong wind and a handful of chaff. Sukuna freezes, every crimson eye of his fixed upon your approaching figure– your soft footfalls, your yellow yukata, your simple hairdo, your angelic smile...

Your husband takes a while too long before discovering his lost voice, eyes narrowed, throat tight and chest heavy as he asks you, "You will leave me, pet?"

"Uh-huh, I sure will," you hum in response, sitting on the stool next to the tub and moistening a towel. Sukuna moves to grasp your wrist in his palm but pauses when he catches you switch your attention from the towel to him, a terrifying emotion brimming in your tender gaze.

You draw in a tiny breath before speaking, voice now a mere whisper.

"Show me someone who is the most feared creature to ever exist, yet is a sulking mess if he isn't being cuddled in bed till noon every single day; someone who detests humans like I detest carrots, yet visits the monthly market in secret, to get gifts for his close one; someone who everyone's told me is the worst, yet goes on to prove, again and again and again, how he's the absolute best in this world—"

You stop suddenly.

Chest growing heavy from an entirely different reason now, your lover drinks in the manner your smile widens, your fragile fingers letting go of the cloth to trace those markings on his skin instead – you resume.

"Show me someone whose embraces feel the safest place in all the three realms, and I swear, my king, I'll leave you and run to his arms without thinking twice."

For the first time in his millennium of existence, the two-faced curse feels the same distress of being paralysed, as his mere mien induces in the muscles of his miserable victims— except, it isn't the fear of an end to his life which is causing this abhorrent weakness to him unlike those worthless mortals— no.

It is the fear of the unknown, of the uncharted, which is rendering his powerful self so, so powerless before your blinding brilliance. Sukuna thinks death might be an easier journey to undertake than these odd realisations your voice and touch elicit in him always.

These days, more so.

This moment, very much so.

The addicting timbre of your voice rouses him from his musings, the second time that night.

"Is every–"

"Is that supposed to be a love confession?" Your husband cuts you off before you can finish your question. You slowly blink at him once then twice, before leaning backwards and picking up the forgotten cloth, a visibly coy giggle bubbling out you as you return to washing his skin.

"Yes," you agree after a beat, gaze darting to his face before skittering away again, "That is supposed to be a love confession for my beloved king; though I wonder what my lord thinks of it. Was it heart-touching as I intended to make it? Or did it sound too tedious to him?"

The addressed being deliberately makes a big show of rolling each of his four eyes at your query. "Neither," he says, curling his lip in a show of vexation before they lift a little at the lower lip you jut out, "And you should count yourself to be lucky that you're my wife, not a worthless mortal, pet. For if you were not my wife–"

"– you would've sliced me into halves without a moment's hesitation," you finish the rest of the sentences for him with a fond shake of your head. "Trust me, my king, I know you. I do, I rea– Sukuna!!!"

The startled shriek of his name— not my lord or my king but Sukuna —parts the curse's lips in a smirk, which widens on noticing the warm water slowly seeping into your clothes, making them translucent; and you staring up at him with a disbelieving look etched onto your pretty face.

Sukuna allows his smirk to melt away into a genuine smile, for once.

Nestling your drenched form closer to himself, he closes his eyes to rest his forehead on your shoulder, palms holding you as if you were not a member of the race he lives for the sake of tormenting, but an invaluable blessing, beings he has never believed in, sent earthward for his damned self.

Which is true, the curse reckons. You indeed are a blessing he knows he doesn't deserve – yet will keep for and with himself for an eternity and some more.

Pressing you closer to himself, your husband lifts his head to plant a kiss to your forehead, followed by your warm cheeks — hoping you'll understand the meaning behind every reverent contact he's marking your form with now.

After all, you know him really well, don't you?

[You do— which is only why you reciprocate every brush of his sharp canine over your skin, with a brush of your soft palm over the wicked, handsome, wickedly handsome visage of the love of your life.]

▸ masterlist

[twobluejeans]

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 7: revenge dress, part 6: reckless, part 5: relevancy, part 4: emo ponytail girl, part 3: dupeee, part 2:wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 7! bc why did this take me 2 days to make. da faq. a lot of tswift references 🫶

INSTAGRAM, july 15

liked by harrystyles, austinbutler, and 26,955,959 others

yourinstagram and by the way, i’m going out tonight.

View all 357,728 comments

sabrinacapenter R U KIDDING ME???

badgalriri go bad bitch go bad bitch go

1dstyles.harry harry i see u lurking 👀

user1 she don’t know she need me yet

arianagrande MOTHER IS MOTHERING

barbie this barbie is THAT GIRL

leclerc_pascale Beautiful Girl!❤️

yourinstagram leclerc_pascale thank you ❤️

alexademie 😍😍

user2 they won’t love you like i would

omarapollo come home the kids miss u

y/nsdeadreputaion i know charles is crying in the corner rn

(landonorris liked this comment !)

danielricciardo May God bless the dinosaur that died to make the fossil fuel that was treated to become petrol in the car that took your mom to hospital to give birth to you

yourinstagram danielriccoardo i hate you 😭💀

danielricciardo yourinstagram Don’t lie, You know you love me

fernandoalonso_offical danielricciardo No. Stop it.

written by Ally

July 15,2023 AT 1:30PM

Y/n L/n is rarely seen walking the streets in public anymore, but that is changing following her recent breakup  from longtime love Charles Leclerc.

The 12-time Grammy winner was spotted out and about in Rome just one day after her release of her new single, Reckless, which reflects on her past relationship with the formula 1 driver.

L/n was joined by celebs friends Zendaya, Tom Holland, Sabrina Carpenter, Bella Hadid, and Alexa Demie for a night out at Shari Vari Play House in Vía de' Nari, Italy. 

The news of her breakup sent shockwaves on social media. Tweets and memes were made, with fans expressing their disbelief and grief

Rumors had already spread that Leclerc was seeing someone else the last few months of thosr relationship. L/n just made those rumors  official last night as she delivered a tribute to  Leclerc and his new girlfriend Australian Youtuber Lola Ransdell, sending the media to a frenzy. 

The “Karma” hitmaker opted for a dress from Mônot’s SS22 collection, a black dress with cutouts across the chest and stomach, leaving little fabric between L/n’s collarbone and lower waist.

People on twitter are already calling this “Y/n L/n’s Revenge Dress Era” . 

"Not @Y/nL/n wearing Y/n’s Version of 'the revenge dress'," one fan posted.

The ultimate revenge dress is, of course, the off-the-shoulder black Christina Stambolian dress that Princess Diana wore while her former husband then-Prince Charles was admitting to an affair with current Queen Consort Camilla.

Diana, Princess of Wales attends the Vanity Fair party at the Serpentine Gallery on November 20, 1994 Anwar Hussein

L/n kicked off her sold-out Eras Tour on March 17, and eagle-eyed fans noticed that Leclerc had been absent from her shows.

In case you're unfamiliar with the lore of YourShipName (portmanteau and couple name of L/n and Leclerc), you probably don't understand the distress caused by the news. For most, Leclerc is not even a household name, but for YourFandomsName, he's the titular Lover.

via @yourinstagram in a now deleted instagram post

The Midnights singer and  f1 driver started dating in 2016. Fans speculate they met at the 2016 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix based on the lyrics of Reputation cut "Dress": "Flashback to when you met me / Your buzzcut and my hair bleached." Because, you guessed it, Leclerc sported a buzzcut and L/n’s hair was bleached.

At a secret session for Reputation, Leclerc reportedly told fans that the single "Gorgeous" was about her "angel boyfriend of one year." Other tracks off of Reputation like “Delicate," "Call It What You Want," and "King Of My Heart" are also thought to be about Leclerc.

Her next album, Lover, is also understood to be about Leclerc with songs like "Paper Rings," "Cornelia Street," "Daylight," and the titular "Lover."

During quarantine the couple started collaborating creatively. Leclerc surpassed his muse status and co-wrote Folklore tracks "Exile" and "Betty,"

 Evermore songs "Champagne Problems" and "Coney Island, and most recently, "Sweet Nothing" off Midnights. Other tracks on her most recent three albums canonically about Leclerc include: "Invisible String" and "Peace."

While they opted to remain very private about their romance, the couple was hit with a slew of engagement rumors throughout the course of their ill-fated romance.

"I'm aware people want to know about that side of things," Leclerc told GQ in 2018. "I think we have been successfully very private and that has now sunk in for people."

L/n briefly touched on the privacy aspect of their relationship in her 2020 documentary, "Miss Americana."

"We decided together we wanted our relationship to be private," she said. "Even though [my public image in 2016] was really horrible, I was happy."

"But I wasn't happy in the way I was trained to be happy. It was happiness without anyone else's input. We were just... happy," the singer added.

The "Lavender Haze" songstress' exes famously include Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert Pattinson, Fabian Frankel, Ben Barnes, Harry Styles, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson. 

SEE MORE RELATED POSTS:

• From Y/n L/n and Charles Leclerc to Sofia Vergara and Joe Manganiello, Here are all the Celebirty breakups of 2023…So far

• Leonardo DiCaprio, Gigi Hadid Are 'Definitely Dating' (Exclusive Source)

• Carlos Sainz Shares his thoughts on YourShipName’s Breakup

TWITTER, july 15

INSTAGRAM, july 15

liked by kendalljenner, haileybieber, and 2,674,123 others

lolaaransdell_ couldn’t be bothered

View all 32,177 comments

user5 someone pls take away her phone i’m so serious

y/nsleclerc god has lots of favorites🥰💞🧚🏽you’re not one of them🥺💘💘

haileybieber the hottest ❤️❤️

badgerdannyricc you hit different 😍when you’re not on my screen 🧚‍♀️💞✨

cillianmurphyfineaf u killed this 💞🦋!🧚🏽now do the same for urself🙈🥰⚡️

charles16_leclerc this is just embarrassing stop

auzziericciardo i don’t like you but ur blush and highlight looks really good

norissxricciardo my daughter said she loved your videos! 😩💗✨ so i put her up for adoption 😽☁️🌺

INSTAGRAM STORIES, july 16

yourinstagram 4h

viewed by michaelbjordan, lilyrose_depp, and 2,042,828 others

INSTAGRAM, july 16

liked by landonorris, jacobelordi, and 8,667,214 others

yourinstagram it feels like a perfect night to dress up like hipsters & make fun of our exes.

View all 102,421 comments

cinnamongirldelrey oh this is iconic.

queensel the reunion we needed

argentinastyles stop i love selena and y/n together

parisy/n THE CAPTION LMFAOAKSKHDH

charlottesiine Angel sisters for life!!!

yourinstagram charlottesiine my queen i love you!

jarofheartsy/n wait i’m confused who’s the girl on the last pic?

ciney/n jarofheartsy/n charlotte sine, charles’s ex gf 💀

TWITTER, july 16

ally’s radio 📻: DON’T U LOVE WHEN WOMEN. guys im stuck on who to choose for y/n’s next boo. like. so stuck. THIS CAN GO LIKE FOUR WAYS. WE HAVE FOUR OPTIONS AND I KINDA WANNA LET U GUYS PICK BUT ALSO NEED TO KEEP YALL IN SUSPENSE SO LIKE😭 SHARE WITH ME UR THOUGHTS PLS. also, i think i might start a danny ric fanfic next bc that’s bbg.

taglist 🦢🪩: @incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife @mrsmaybank13 @black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx @lilsiz @ohthemisssery @leclerclvr @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @shessthunderstoms @cool-ultra-nerd @ncentic @playboykenz @canvashearts @tinyhrry @xeliaaaa @ifionlywould @gaviypedrisbride @callsignwindow @dhhdhsiavdhaj @chasing-liberosis @laneyspaulding19

[astrolook]

Astro - Observations 12th House Edition:

All these observations are based on my experience. Leave a comment below whether it hits close to home.

Sun in the 12th house placement tend to have little to no friends. Could have had secret affair or crush with their teacher or professor. Job like programmers, behind the scenes work in the film industry, business in foreign lands, working abroad, etc. would make these people excel at it.

Venus in 12th house love from afar and their person of desire might not even know they exist or have a crush on them. Repressed sexuality. Wants fairy-tale romance. Sometimes the mistress/side chick/side guy. Jobs like model scout, nursing, dermatologist, mid-wife, secretary, modeling in foreign lands, etc. would make them excel at it.

Mercury in the 12th could be bilingual or know more than 1 language. Jobs like translator, writer under a pen name, wildlife photographer, freelancer, astrologer, psychic medium, etc. would make them excel at it.

Mars in the 12th refers to repressed anger. This placement is good for pursuing military career, yoga, MMA fighter, Taekwondo, athletic career, industrialist, etc. would make them excel at it.

Jupiter in 12th house people are highly spiritual and even detach themselves from the material world and prefers solitude. Its difficult for other people to understand them. Careers like preacher, pastor, nun, monk, researcher, forest officer, night shift workers, etc. would make them excel at it.

Saturn in 12th house people would be prone to depression and anxiety and but will help you overcome your fears. Saturn in 12H is a hard placement as it can give mental health issues, addictions, frivolous spending, loans and debts, etc. But careers like mortician, psychologist, de-addiction center, hospice worker, elderly care, working for the unfortunate, etc. To reduce the hard effects of Saturn, try doing charitable deeds to the unfortunate ones, helping the homeless and don't take on loans.

Stay tuned for more in the next post. I will walk you through 11th house in the next post.

Also check out my store on Teespring (now spring): Wear the Journey. Sip the Adventure. ✨

[alwynwitch]

Raglan James, Marius de Romanus and Daniel Molloy's memory loss

Okay, this sounds insane and I could be very wrong... but I still think it is possible that Justin Kirk plays Marius. Hear me out.

Obviously, Raglan James is a real character and I think AMC is going to use him (for later iwtv seasons and maybe for their talamasca show as well). But in season 1 Rashid was also really Armand... and Rashid is now a real character with a role in the story as well. The same could be true for Raglan James.

So, why would Marius be impersonating Raglan James?

Mainly, because he feels protective and responsible for Daniel. I think Marius played a role in Daniel's memory loss and recovery as a person after the first interview (and possible chase/love affair with Armand). Armand and Louis left him broken and confused and needed someone to help and take care of him. Enter Marius.

Biggest clue:

Roman Weiss Publishing House? Like, come on. No publishing house is called like that, unless it is connected to Marius de Romanus. Also, this is Daniel's memoir, his other books are published at a different (normal) publishing house. But the memoir that is connected to his memory loss is published by Roman Weiss.... hmmmm....

Don't forget: in the books it was Marius who helped Daniel recover after he lost his mind. Daniel stayed with Marius for years. Marius loved Daniel and loved taking care of him.

(And yes I think AMC!Armand can know at this point that Marius is alive, because I think Lestat will tell him out of spite before Armand throws him off the tower. And Marius's painting is in the Dubai Penthouse.)

I think the Talamasca really has a stake in the interview and sent an agent, Raglan James (who I suspect still works for them at this point). But Marius interfered and kidnapped Raglan James and threw him in his basement.

He wants to help Daniel with his memories. He could be annoyed at Armand and Louis that they are toying with Daniel now, after all he did to take care of Daniel. And he is invested in the bigger picture of the vampire world. He is still taking care of Those Who Must Be Kept and will be aware of the great conversion, because it impacts them (and Amel). He might not like the idea that the Talamasca knows too much about this. And he might know Raglan James is a bad person and he doesn't want him near Daniel (and Armand).

So in this new role he can help Daniel and as a double agent he can keep Raglan James and the Talamasca at bay.

(The Talamasca seems to have a more active role in the AMC Universe than in the books, see also Mayfair Witches. So vampires might also engage with them more actively.)

Are there clues that Raglan James is not who he says he is?

A few. He speaks weirdly. He articulated his name in a weird way and Daniel immediately asked: "Got a real name?" Like he doesn't believe it. It is a clue for the audience: something is going on and we need to pay attention.

And he seems to be bad at his job. Raglan James was not bad at his job, he was just reckless because of bad character. He was actually a genius, but bored and distracted easily. He got kicked out of the Talamasca, because he was using his paranormal powers and knowlegde for personal gain. He lied to the Talamasca and robbed them. David says in ToTBT: "He deceived us with elaborate fabrications and counterfeit records on a scale you wouldn't believe. He loves that sort of connivance." And: "With his gifts he should have been able to deceive us forever."

And look at his interaction with Daniel:

Raglan James says awkwardly (and too loudly): "I will stop looking at you now." And pretends to have a phone conversation. At the end, the whole restaurant is looking at them and listening.

Does that look like a genius secret agent who could have deceived the Talamasca forever? I don't think so. A good agent would have the situation under control. Something is off. Is it Marius? Pathetic, nerdy, vain and controlfreak Marius who thought he could play a secret agent and failed miserably? Maybe.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Birthday 2024 Prompts Masterlist

AVATAR THE LAST AIRBENDER Lu Ten and Zuko, Part 22 Modern ATLA AU, Part 2 Zuko and Azula, Part 36 Modern ATLA AU, Part 3

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA Secret Identity, Part 21

CHARMED The Once and Future King, Chris, Part 6

COVERT AFFAIRS Pattern Recognition

ENOLA HOLMES Family Dinners, Part 9

FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST What They Expect, Part 7 Sacrifice is Free, Part 18 Xerxes AU, Part 1 Bartender AU, Part 9 Xerxes AU, Part 2 Xerxes AU, Part 3 What They Expect, Part 8

GODS AND MONSTERS Hestia Ares and Icarus Otrera

HADES GAME Living Blood, Part 22 Living Blood, Part 23 Living Blood, Part 24

HARRY POTTER Founders, Part 7 Snakelet Year 3 SIAT Percy and Tonks SIAT Lily and Snape Founders, Part 8 SIAT Percy and Tonks

MERLIN Lord Arthur de Bois, Part 6

MISS FISHER’S MURDER MYSTERIES Second Time's the Charm

NARUTO Hokage’s Daughter, Part 6 Hokage's Daughter, Part 7 Hokage's Daughter, Part 8 Hokage's Daughter, Part 9

PERCY JACKSON Rinse and Repeat, Part 4 Rinse and Repeat, Part 5

PSYCH Taiji Bread and Circus

UNTAMED Marriage Assassin WQ, Part 13 Bruised Fruit, Part 6 Girl Wei Wuxian, Part 13 Jiang Cheng Time Travel, Part 11 Jiang Cheng Time Travel, Part 12 Identity Porn AU, Part 8 Girl Wei Wuxian, Part 14 NHS Time Travel, Part 5 WWX and JYL Run Away, Part 19 Identity Porn AU, Part 9

[feasibilities]

Office Hours - Dr. Oppenheimer x Graduate Student!Reader (Part 2)

Synopsis: Dr. Oppenheimer continues an affair with his former student.

Warnings: Teacher/Student Relationship, Cheating, Smut, Nervous Breakdown, Sexism

Author's Note: This is the 1st fic I'm posting as a 23-year-old. Sorry it took so long. Enjoy!

Click here to read part one!

Your affair with Robert was best thing you could ask for and now it was going up in flames before your eyes. 

“I leave tomorrow morning.” He said softly, cradling your nude body. 

“If you love me, you wouldn’t go. What is so important that you can’t write or call? I won’t even know where you will be.” You croaked.

“I do love you but it’s out of my hands. I’m sorry.” He agonized. Suddenly, you stumbled off the bed and ran to the bathroom. He tried to follow behind you but the door was already locked. 

“Open the door.” He begged.

“Go away!” You wept. He stayed at the door listening to your muffled sobs until he dressed himself and left without a word. 

A nervous breakdown characterized the next few weeks. The invitations to outing from your friends slowed as they suspected you were too far gone. In a fit of rage, you destroyed your home. Your concerned neighbors contacted the authorities when they heard the commotion. Upon seeing a woman in hysterics, he apologized for wasting your time and left hastily. You smashed your framed doctorate degree in a final act of defiance. Finally, you fell asleep on your couch with the remnants of destruction around you. 

After a period of grief, you decided to pour yourself into research at your alma mater. Your gender proved to be a significant barrier. You began to omit your first name from peer-reviewed journals and reveled in the shock of your colleagues when they met you in person. Eventually, you got your own office. You felt a sense of normalcy for the first time in a while. 

You were surprised to see two U.S. soldiers waiting at your office door when you came into work. Your secretary explained that they were here on “private business matters”. You reluctantly invited them in and sat at your desk. Both of their uniforms were adorned with a variety of service ribbons. One of the soldiers explained that there was a classified project that required the assistance of scientists. He firmly added that if you were interested in the appointment, you needed to keep it a secret. The other seemed to be a form of reinforcement as he likely assumed you were male.

As great as things were going here, you thought this was a great opportunity to leave all of the baggage of California and gain worthwhile experience in your field. After a lengthy conversation, they told you that you had until Monday morning to decide—it was Wednesday. He handed you his business card and shook your hand. They left as quickly as they arrived. 

The encouragement of your friends and colleagues was enough for you to make a decision. On Friday afternoon, you watched everyone leave for weekend as you nervously twiddled the business card in your hands. You finally dialed the number and cleared your throat to boost your confidence. 

“Sergeant Fuller.” He answered, picking up the phone rather quickly.

“Hi, this is Dr. Y/L/N. I was calling to confirm my interest in the opportunity you mentioned on Wednesday.” You concluded, twirling the phone cord with your finger. 

“Great news. You will receive a memorandum with a start date in the mail. It should arrive on Monday afternoon.” He said.

“Thank you. Have a great weekend.” You replied, hanging up the phone. 

On the morning you were due to leave, you looked around at your empty 1-bedroom home for the last before beginning the 16 hour drive to Santa Fe, New Mexico. You made regular stops to take photos of the gorgeous landscape. Memories of a romantic excursion to Robert’s ranch in the Sangre de Cristo Range tugged at your heartstrings. You were exhausted by the time you reached the city. You checked into your assigned hotel and went to bed. 

The next morning, you reported to the U.S Army Corps of Engineers at 8:30 am. You met with a kindly woman named Dorothy McKibbin who gave you necessary documentation and directions to Los Alamos. The process proved to be tedious as a thorough background check was conducted in order to give you security clearance. Little to your knowledge, your offer letter was signed by your previous paramour, Robert Oppenheimer. 

You drove to the location and made it through the military checkpoint in one piece. While you were being escorted to the on-site housing complexes, you were amazed at how a bustling city was built in the middle of nowhere. You were given a quaint 1-bedroom apartment in a building with a gorgeous, forested background. Your belongings were diligently searched and put away deftly. 

“Are we allowed to call our family and friends?” You asked, searching for a landline. 

“Phones aren’t permitted in private residences. There’s a phone in the lobby for emergencies.” A volunteer soldier defined as if he’s said this many times before. You   rolled your eyes and thanked him for his help. Before he left, he made an attempt at encouragement. 

“You’ll be in history books for this. Try to make the best of it, miss.” He remarked, closing the door behind him. Your only connection to the outside world was a radio gifted to you by your secretary. You sat it on a table near the window so it could get the best signal possible. Bing Crosby serenaded your decorating process. Your finishing touch was hanging your graduate degree above your desk. To keep yourself sane, you decided to keep a daily journal. 

The following day, you decided to explore the locale. You found a café near the log and stone cottages on site. After ordering, you sat at an empty table in a corner and wrote in your journal. A familiar voice interrupted your mindless scribbling. You looked up and saw Robert and his heavily pregnant wife, Kitty. They were meeting with a burly man in an army uniform. You were so bewildered that you couldn’t move. Unbeknownst to his wife, Robert saw you walk in and insisted they go in for some inexplicable reason. Kitty ordered him to go up and order since she was much too tired. He ordered a coffee for the two of them and a chocolate croissant for Table No. 9. A few minutes later, the pastry arrived to your table with a note taped to the plate. 

I’ve missed you dearly. Meet me at Stone Lodge #6 at 7pm. 

-Robert  

—

You came to the cabin prepared to admonish Robert for his impudent actions. Instead, your nude body was intertwined with his as it was on the last night you saw him. The fireplace crackled quietly in the background of his perfervid dedication to you. Afterwards, you decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. 

“Do you love me like you love Kitty?” You said quietly, intertwining your fingers with his. His eyes flickered pensively before he answered. 

“No, I love you in a different way.” He replied confidently, kissing you deeply. You kissed back with the same intensity and then pulled away. 

“Would you leave her for me?” You asked daringly, catching your breath. Signs of disquiet crept into his stark features. In an effort to soothe himself, he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. 

“I can’t answer that.” He admitted. You felt a deep sting at his words. 

“Do you remember what you promised me at Sangre de Cristo?” You interrogated. 

“Yes, but-“ He started, ashing the cigarette.

“I was promised a ring, a baby, and a life out of the dark. And yet, here I am with nothing.” You croaked, tears filling your eyes.

“It’s more complicated than that. I…recommended you for this project because I felt horrible about how things ended. I was sworn to secrecy.” He explained, taking your hand in his. There were millions of things running through your mind. Staying silent, you rolled over and fell asleep. He put out his cigarette and embraced you from behind. 

Waking up the next morning, Robert watched as you dressed yourself.

“If you’d like, I can drive you back to your apartment and wait for you. We’re running a bit late.” He said, adjusting his tie and looking at his watch. 

“Are you sure you’re not embarrassed to be seen in public with me?” You murmured. 

“No.” He spoke softly, pulling a jacket over your shoulders and kissing you tenderly. 

While waiting outside of your apartment building, Robert pondered the aforementioned promise he gave you. He wished there was some way to make a honest woman of you and keep Kitty happy. He was at an impasse that seemed impossible to solve. Gazing at his watch once more, he wondered what was keeping you. Before he could go check on you, you were walking to the car. The curls in your hair were pristine and your makeup complimented your carefully-selected outfit. 

“Ready to go?” You said with a coy smile, breaking his trance. 

“Y-yes.” He stuttered, driving off. 

Robert spent the little free time he had that morning admiring your beauty. You made it a point to cross your legs to sneakily show off your garter belt. His colleagues were equally distracted but were much better at hiding their ogling. At noon, he caught you alone in the hallway. You were whisked into his office for a brief liaison. At the pinnacle, his desk began to scrape against the floor with his impassioned movements. You two had made love countless times but there was a lustral quality to moment. He lingered until the alarm signaled for everyone to return to work. 

—

Too busy frolicking with his former student, Robert forgot to tend to his pregnant wife at home. Kitty had went into labor in the middle of the night and he received a courtesy call from Rabi. Naturally, he rushed to her side and reveled in the arrival of his baby girl. You felt disposed of once more but had little time to wallow in self-pity—you were pregnant. You felt a mix of gratification and dread. You had a lifelong connection to the only man you ever loved but could end up raising the child with a fleeting father. You had no idea what to do outside of telling him in person.

You knocked on the door of the cabin and waited for him to answer. He opened the door with a smile on his face and went to hand you a drink before you handed him papers from the nearby clinic. He stayed calm as he read through them.

“What are we going to do?” You asked nervously. He took your hand in his and sat you next to him.

“This is what we planned for. I made a promise to you and I plan to keep it.” He declared. You wordlessly embraced him and hoped he was telling the truth. 

The End

[callsigns-haze]

The ACOTAR Masterlist

- WARNING - please understand that some of my stories contain, gore, smut and other adult topic.

Rhysand

Prison for life..

Summary: Amidst the eerie shadows of the dark woods, YN faces a terrifying encounter with a malevolent beast, only to be rescued by the timely intervention of Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian, whose camaraderie and laughter serve as a beacon of light in the midst of darkness.

You love letters in jail...(part two of prison for life)

Summary: In a moment of passion and vulnerability, Rhysand implores YN to stay with him, but she grapples with the weight of her responsibilities as High Lady of the Court of the Lost Gods.

Light into darkness (series)

In a moment of passion and vulnerability, Rhysand implores YN to stay with him, but she grapples with the weight of her responsibilities as High Lady of the Court of the Lost Gods.

Azriel

Bad Idea, right???

Summary: After a frantic search, Cassian and his companions discover YN and Azriel's hidden rendezvous, realizing that love finds a way even in the most unexpected of places.

Shadows blade (series)

Azriel, finds himself unexpectedly entangled in the throes of love with a formidable Illryian soldier, who happens to serve as Cassian's right hand. As their paths intertwine amidst the chaos of war and the complexities of courtly intrigue, Azriel discovers an undeniable connection with this fiercely independent warrior, whose strength and loyalty captivate him. As they navigate the perilous landscape of their feelings and the demands of their duties, Azriel and his Illryian love embark on a journey of passion, sacrifice, and ultimately, a love that transcends boundaries and defies destiny.

Forbidden whispers

Summary: In the midst of Solstice festivities, Y/N, a spirited Illyrian soldier and Cassian's younger sister, finds herself entangled in a clandestine affair with Azriel, the shadowy spymaster of the Night Court. As their passion ignites, they navigate the dangers of their forbidden love, all while concealing their affair from prying eyes.

His Shadow

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Darkest Whispers

After the tragic loss of their parents, Y/N, Rhysand's younger sister and the newly titled Princess of the Night, falls into a quiet grief, withdrawing from those around her. As her brother and the Inner Circle try to reach her, only Azriel seems to break through her walls, offering her the solace and understanding she so desperately needs.

You're mine

Azriel pins you against the wall, shadows tight around your body as he tears down every defense you’ve built, forcing you to confront your hatred—and the way your body betrays you. With every teasing touch and whispered command, he drags you into a ruthless, possessive storm of desire you can’t escape. You tell yourself you hate him, but as he claims you, body and soul, you know you’ve already surrendered.

Cassian

Say something...

Summary: In the midst of chaos and despair, YN and Cassian's unbreakable bond and unwavering love illuminate the darkest of nights, guiding them through trials of grief and uncertainty towards a future filled with hope and redemption.

Warrior's heart (series)

Cassian, a formidable commander in the Night Court's army, finds his life forever altered when he meets YN, a skilled navigator and trusted advisor to High Lord Rhysand. Despite their differing roles, Cassian is drawn to YN's intelligence, strength, and unwavering determination. Their professional relationship soon evolves into something deeper when Cassian discovers that YN is his destined mate, chosen by fate to be his other half.

Bat Boys

Oh, How She's Changed...

Summary: YN, the immortal descendant of gods, reunites with her friends Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel at a lavish gathering in the Night Court's grand ballroom. As they reminisce about past adventures and observe the antics of other courtiers, they marvel at YN's transformation from an innocent girl into a captivating woman. However, their reunion is cut short when one of YN's guards arrives to escort her away, leaving Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel with lingering thoughts and a sense of longing as they watch her depart into the night.

Eris

Memories Fade (Series)

Summary: Not so long back Rhysand lost his sister. Years after Helion and Elain can raise her memories from the past to see what truly happened to Y/n.

Loves Haze (memories fade sequel)

Summary: When the finally memory hit, the acknowledge of Eris and Y/N being alive only started a new legacy.

All high (2nd memories fade continuation)

Summary: When there's an forced entry in the Beyonds woods is this the last time the Phoenii are protected?

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@kmc1989

@djs8891

@hardballoonlove

@callsign-dexter

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@rosiahills22

@lilah-asteria