#so nobody can say they weren't warned about me only posting these for the next few months

[moralesmilesanhour]

what you're searching for.

summary: Margo goes to a shitty poetry slam and gets more out of it than she expects. wc: 4.9k warnings: alcohol consumption, and it's like very VERY lightly implied that they had an Adult Sleepover if you get my meaning. Nothing really too suggestive in here I promise. One singular reference to a tiktok. a/n: this took me a whole ass week but I'm very proud of where my writing style is going! somewhat inspired by the film 'Love Jones'. If you enjoyed this pls feel free to leave your thoughts or your favorite line if you have one! EDIT: OH MY GOD I FORGOT TO ADD: the first poem is actually taken from the Junior novel 'Miles Morales: Suspended' by Jason Reynolds! The poem at the end is mine though lmao I'm not the best poet

Margo can’t stand poetry.

Someone gets up in front of you with a piece of paper clutched in their hands, and recites what is simultaneously the most vague and the most painfully obvious string of fragmented sentences you’ve ever heard as if they’d just touched your soul.

It’s not rapping, not preaching, but the ugly middle child standing between them. Some odd bastardization of music for people who thought they were too smart for either of the first two, but weren't brave enough to just give speeches.

Speeches, at least, are coherent, specific, and can be scrutinized.

So far, sitting in the front row of the bar that her classmate Zoe had invited her to for poetry night, no one has changed her mind. 

Tonight’s performances consisted of an assembly line of men (and a couple of women) in vintage sweaters ranting about their exes to the rhythm of bongo drums, or some mildly relevant social issue that none had the lexicon to really say anything in stanzas that hasn’t already been said. She had heard nothing yet that sounded much more profound than an Instagram post.

Although, one girl had come up and recited a short poem about her late mother that Margo thought was quite sweet, and the least tortuous to sit through.

The crowd erupted in snaps again for a poet with long braided dreads and an ankh tattoo whose words she had tuned out. The host took the mic and announced the final (thank god) participant:

“Now this next one I had to practically drag over here to get him to share his beautiful poetry with us tonight. Everyone, please give a warm welcome to one of my close friends and colleagues, Miles Morales!”

A lanky young man–Margo suspects about six feet even, given the way he’s towering over the host–awkwardly shuffles over to the center of the stage, offering the crowd a tight-lipped smile. 

He’s in a plain green sweater with the sleeves hastily rolled up to his elbows and a bomber jacket tied around his waist. As soon as he’s handed the microphone, it seems to dawn on him that there’s no turning back, and his body visibly tenses. 

He clearly just got here, and for once Margo doesn’t know what to expect.

Squinting beneath the bright spotlight, he clears his throat and speaks into the mic. 

“Um, hi.”

A few scattered ‘hi’s from the crowd.

There’s something bright and sweet in the tone of his voice that makes him sound a little boyish, and she wonders what he could possibly have under his sleeve that warranted him getting dragged up here last minute.

He takes a deep breath.

“It’s said

That nobody

Is ever more

Than ten feet

From a spider.”

Miles began the poem carefully, like he was confessing something. 

“They be everywhere you and me are.”

A few members of the crowd laugh, others shudder at the thought and frown. 

“And even though

We see them only

When they big enough to see, or when

They move,

Like a cursor

Across the blank white

Page of a wall…”

His voice loses some of its airiness in exchange for confidence as he recites the rest of the poem, and Margo realizes that he isn’t reading off of anything. 

Either he’s improvising, or he has it entirely memorized.

“Or when we trip

The web-like wire

Of a booby trap

Or when they

Fang our flesh

We should probably

Assume most

Just be right there…”

Miles paused and looked somewhere far beyond the crowd, lifting his arm to point to the back of the room. Then he repeated:

“Right there,

Right here,”

He gestures toward the front row, where his eyes land directly on Margo. It’s not so close to the stage that she can tell for sure, but she thinks she sees a hint of a smile cross his lips.

“Looking at us,

Looking over them.”

Silence. 

His arm falls limply to his side as his eyes frantically scan the audience, searching for some kind of response. 

Then, someone begins to clap. Then another. Then another. WIthin moments, the entire room erupts in applause, causing a shy smile to spread across the young man��s face.

“Uh, thank you!” he says, surprised at the positive reception, before shrinking into himself again and leaving the stage the same way he came.

The host returns and takes the mic from him.

“Miles Morales, everybody!”

-

After the poetry slam, Margo insisted that Zoe take her to the sushi place across the street. It had a bar sitting off to the side, one with significantly less poets. The decorative lights hung directly above the shelf filled with glass bottles and shrouded them in cherry red.

Zoe takes a sip of her sherry and leans in.

“Sooo, how was it?”

“It was a’ight.”

The light-skinned girl’s lips pull into a pout. “Seriously?”

“Hey, I told you poetry wasn’t my thing,” Margo pauses, then amends, “I liked the last guy, though. Breath of fuckin’ fresh air.”

“Right? His style really caught my attention, subtle.”

“Glad you liked it.”

Zoe’s eyes widened as she glanced just beyond Margo’s shoulder.

When Margo turned towards the familiar voice and froze. 

The poet in question was standing just inches away, a friendly smile gracing his features. His jacket is no longer around his waist, neatly folded over his arm like an expensive coat. He is with the excitable darker-skinned man who’d just hosted the event, and a man the shade of sandalwood standing just behind him.

They’re both wearing the same type of muted cardigan as Miles, but they’ve got actual coats.

“Y’all were in the front, right?” Miles asks the both of them, though he’s only looking at Margo.

She nods wordlessly. Zoe picks up the slack.

“M-hm, you were great up there! You’ve really never shown anyone your work ‘till tonight?”

Miles snorts at the wording of the phrase. ‘His work’.

“I wrote that poem in high school,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, but my roommate…” 

He gives the dark-skinned man a dirty look. 

“...swiped my journal and found it. Told me I should read it out loud somewhere.”

Margo examines Miles’ face and imagines him as a baby-faced high-schooler, sitting in the back of the classroom with a protective arm around the beat-up red composition notebook he’s writing in. He stuffs it in his bag as soon as he’s done, because he has just poured his heart out onto that page, and his crush’s name is in there. Maybe there are tiny doodles of her in the margins.

“Yo,” the sandalwood-colored man claps Miles on the shoulder. “We about to hit up Tiff’s place, you coming?”

“Yeah, in a minute,” Miles nods dismissively. “I’ll catch up with y’all.”

The two other men give each other a knowing look before brushing past him.

“Alright man, catch you later then.”

Once she finally regains the ability to speak, Margo remarks, “You were the only performance I really liked, if I’m being honest.”

“Is that so?” 

“Oh yeah, this one hates poetry,” Zoe places a hand on Margo’s shoulder and laughs. “Tried to change her mind by bringing her over here, but no dice.”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “What made mine so different?”

“Hm, I dunno…” Margo’s eyes float over his form before making their way back up to his face. “Your delivery, I guess.”

Safe to say, he looks amusedly unconvinced.

“My…delivery.”

She catches herself and quickly adds, “I-I mean, it also kinda felt like everyone else was trying too hard. So.”

He tilts his head at the remark.

“Are you just saying that to flatter me?”

.“I don’t flatter people. Too close to lying.”

“That sounds like half a poem already. Maybe you should go up there next week.”

She gives him a lopsided smile.

“Only if you’re there. I need something to actually look forward to.”

His tongue darts out and passes over his lips.

“What’s your name?”

“Margo.”

Miles hums, softly repeating the name before inching his way over to the counter where he leans his hip on it.

“Pretty. Can I buy you a drink, Margo?”

She doesn’t think her name is all that pretty, but he makes it sound that way.

“Knock yourself out.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Zoe teases as she rises from her seat. “I’m gonna go order us some sushi.”

Miles takes the stool to Margo’s left as he waits on their drinks, his long legs never needing to leave the ground to do so.

He has a funny way of sitting, hands folded neatly in front of him with his back just a few degrees off from being perfectly straight. As if you needed to look distinguished at a sushi bar.

Church boy, Margo guessed. That, or his daddy’s a military man.

It’s adorable either way.

“You in school?” she asked.

“Yup. Princeton.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Oh shit, me too! I’ve never seen you on campus, though. What’s your major?”

“Physics. You?”

“Comp Sci. Been coding since I was in middle school, so…”

Margo remembers the echoing ‘click-clack’ of her keyboard as she sat in an empty computer lab for hours on end after school because she preferred it to her parents’ house.

The bartender hands Miles two glasses of white wine, and he sets the second glass in front of Margo, his warm eyes still focused on her. 

She’s intrigued by how clear they are - no trace of suspicion or calculation behind them. Just the warmth.

“So, where you from? My folks are over in Brooklyn.”

“Georgia.”

Miles’ brows jump to his hairline.

“Damn. What brought you all the way up here?”

To get as far away as possible. 

“Well, it’s Princeton,” she says beneath a forced laugh.

“Yeah, but you got, like, eight different HBCUs over there. How’d Princeton win you over?”

Margo breaks eye contact to stare into her drink.

“Needed a change of pace.”

When she looks up to gauge Miles’ reaction, skepticism is written all over his face. But he doesn’t push it further.

“That’s fair. Princeton’s got a cutting-edge quantum physics program that I’m aiming for. Had to beg my parents to come here,” he grins proudly, “but here I am.”

Margo is silent for a moment.

“Can I tell you something?” she asks suddenly, beckoning Miles to lean in.

“Yeah?”

Grinning, she half-whispers, “I’m actually here on a scholarship.”

He gives her an odd look. 

“Why’d you say it like that? Nothin’ wrong with getting a full ride. The opposite, actually.”

“Some people might feel otherwise. You’re like, the second person I’ve told other than my parents.”

“And why me?” Miles chuckles. “My poetry was just that good?”

“I just…Hm.”

Margo leans back and takes a contemplative sip of her wine, watching him over the rim of her glass. 

Why did she just tell him that?

“I guess I just sorta felt like telling you.”

Margo cautiously sets the wine back down. She figures if she’s not careful, he’ll have her full government name and social security number by the end of the night.

“Y’know, I actually get that a lot,” Miles laughs. “One time, I had this lady I was standing in line with at Target turn around and just start telling me stories about her dead son and how much she misses him. And it’s like, I’m sorry for your loss, but we’re in Target right now and I literally do not know you.”

“Wait, people just go up to you and…tell you shit?”

“Yup. There was this other time at church, too. Just as service ends and I’m about to get up and leave, this short old dude–Dominican, I think–stops me and starts telling me about his entire life. I’m talking start to finish! Apparently I reminded him of his nephew that died in the military or something.”

“Jesus.”

A crease forms between Margo’s brows. She wishes she could say she didn’t understand the old man at church or the lady at Target, but she does. No, it’s not the poetry. It’s got nothing to do with words. 

It’s the way that Miles looks at people. 

Like he already knows all of your secrets, but you’re not worried because they’re safe with him, so might as well tell them. It’s a merciful sort of gaze; you get the impression that he won’t judge you. You might even tell him more after his friendly ‘boy-next-door’ voice coaxes them out of you. The thought unsettles her because she had done just that.

“You ever had a girlfriend before?” She asks, all of a sudden.

Miles shrugs, “Yeah, in tenth grade, then again freshman year. Didn’t really work out.”

“Why not?”

His brows furrow gently for just a second, as if he’s still trying to figure out the answer to that.

“I…don’t know, actually. It goes well the first few months and then…”

“It fizzles out?”

“I get ghosted. Something about how they’re ‘not ready’. Understandable, I guess, but you don’t have to ghost me, y’know?”

He awkwardly examines his fingers, then his glass. 

Margo feels a bit guilty for suddenly bringing up his exes when they’d just met. Would they end up the same way? She saw herself there too, being in a relationship for six months before his weird pastor’s eyes get to be a bit too much and she takes off.

“Yikes, sorry I asked.”

“It’s no problem,” a smile starts to return to his face. “Onto better things, right?”

“Right.”

“And you?”

“Huh?”

“You ever been in a relationship before?”

Margo smiles awkwardly and messes with one of her fingernails.

“Well…not exactly.”

Miles’ eyes widen.

“Never?”

“I mean, guys offer, and then we talk for a little bit, but then…”

“They flake out on you.”

“Pretty much.”

“Damn shame,” he says with a bit of sharpness to his voice. “Not even a first date?”

“Nope, just ‘Read at 4:15’.”

“You know what I think it is?”

Just as he asks this, his knee brushes against her thigh. Margo isn’t sure if it’s an accident, but it distracts her nonetheless.

“What?”

“You’re too smart for them, I can tell. It scares ‘em.” But it doesn’t scare me, is the suggestion.

He smiles then, the kind that shows the whiteness of his teeth on every vowel. It’s wide enough that a dimple comes out of hiding on his left cheek, and she suddenly wants to tell him everything again. She takes another sip of wine.

“So! What’d I miss?”

Zoe finally returns from ordering their sushi at the front with an expectant grin. Miles still hasn’t taken his eyes off of her friend, while she is staring at him like a string of code, which, if you know Margo, is better than nothing.

“You didn’t miss much,” says Margo. “We were just talkin’ about our majors. School stuff.”

Miles checks his phone and lets out a low whistle.

“Well, it was lovely meeting y’all, but I gotta bounce. After getting dragged onstage, I get to be dragged over to a house party, too.”

Just as he rises from his seat, he stops and points at her.

“Before I go, though, d’you mind giving me your digits? I’d love to talk about, uh…computer science…over lunch.”

She snorts, “Who still says ‘digits’?” but hands him her phone anyway. 

It couldn’t hurt to try. 

“Sure.”

His eyes light up as if he wasn’t expecting her to say yes as he saves his number as ‘poetry slam guy’ in her phone, then hands it back.

“Cool,” Miles begins his walk towards the entrance backwards, holding eye contact for just a little longer before turning around. “G’night!”

“Goodnight!” the two women call out in unison as he leaves.

Margo looks to her left at the now-empty bar stool. The glass of wine Miles left on the counter is full, completely untouched.

It’s still on her mind as she's sitting in her single dorm room, re-writing her lecture notes on cyber security in a meticulous neat print that could almost pass for a font.

Every few minutes her pen stops because she’s distracted by the sound of clinking glass in boxes downstairs, or because she pauses to stare at the white wall in front of her that brings to mind one of the lines of Miles’ poem. 

There might be a spider that I can’t see sitting ten feet away from me right this second, she muses to herself. The thought gives her an idea, and the perfect excuse to call him without seeming too desperate.

Margo unlocks her phone and scrolls through her contacts. She smiles to herself at the contact name Miles chose. Did he think she’d forget his name that easily? 

His voice soon filters through the speaker.

“Hey, you didn’t throw out my number!”

“Yup, lucky you.” she replies. “I wanted to ask you a question? About your poem the other night.”

“What about it?”

“See, I was thinking about that first line. Are we really never more than ten feet away from a spider? Like, at any given moment?”

There’s a moment of silence from Miles before he asks:

“You…called me just to ask me that?”

“What? It’s a very pressing issue! There’s probably one in the corner  of my room as we speak!”

“Alright, I’ll humor you,” Miles laughs. “That’s actually a myth from the 90s. Your distance from the nearest spider really depends on where you’re at, so if you’re in a spot with hella bugs, you’re more likely to see one. You’re probably fine.”

“Now wait just a minute!” Margo gasps dramatically. “So you lied to all those poor folks in there?”

“Sure did. Played ‘em all like a fiddle.”

“Terrible.”

“So, why’d you really call? You don’t sound as concerned about spiders as you say you are, if I’m being honest.”

So much for an excuse.

“Don’t nothing get past you, huh?”

This earns a burst of laughter from Miles’ end.

“You’re a worse liar than me, I wouldn’t recommend making it a habit.”

“Ugh, fine,” Margo admits,  “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You could hear my voice in real life, you know. Offer’s still on the table, and I’m free today.”

Their second conversation, and already a lunch date? But as she’s reminded of what his voice sounds like, she quickly realizes that just the voice is not enough. 

Still, she tries to sound casual and makes a non-committal noise.

“Better than being cooped up in my room all day.”

“Great! Where you wanna go?”

Margo shrugs as if he can see her on the other end.

“Wherever you wanna go.”

“Ah, the ‘wherever you wanna go’ paradox,” he chuckles. “Okay, well–lemme ask you this then. Do you like eating with or without music?”

There’s a beat of silence as she considers.

“Hm…is the music good?”

“I’d never subject anyone to a place that plays shit music. Promise.”

“Music, then.”

“Cool, what time works for you?”

“How does two sound? I’ll catch you in front of the Engineering Library.”

“Bet. See you in an hour, then!”

-

The place Miles chose had a live band playing at the front.

A bass player, a keyboard pianist, a saxophonist, and a few background vocalists on occasion. All are propelled forward by the rapid-fire snare of the drummer. It’s jazz - the easy, conversational kind you hear in the background of 90s romantic comedies where the love interest wears nothing but dark lip liner and filled-in brows with a bit of smokey eyeshadow in the crease.

This is the look that Margo has decided to go for as she sits across from Miles at a mahogany table positioned ideally by the window.

It was all she could do other than frantically adjust the braided 'fro-hawk sitting atop her head and spin around in a mist of ‘Champagne Toast’ before bolting out the door.

She doubts he can even smell it right now through the curry and garlic.

“Figured out what you want yet?” Miles asks as he looks over his menu at Margo.

“Eh, I dunno,” she replies, running her index finger down her own menu. “I’m tryin’ not to blow half my paycheck on pasta right now.”

Miles gives her a strange look, then it clicks.

“Oh! Lunch is on me,” he laughs. “Your bank account’s safe for now.”

Her head snaps up.

“You should’ve mentioned that! I thought we were going half and half this whole time, I had my whole budget for the week planned out.”

Margo has to hold back an ugly cackle at the look of horror on Miles’ face right after she says this.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”

With this new information in mind, she orders a bowl of chicken alfredo with a glass of lemonade that she sips on as the band seamlessly transitions into a cover of Solange’s ‘Cranes in the Sky’.

“So, Margo,” Miles rests his chin on his knuckles and squints his eyes comically. 

“If that is your real name.”

Margo giggles, and plays along.

“It’s not, it’s my alter-ego for when I go on top-secret missions.”

“Is it short for something? Or just Margo?”

“Hm,” she puts on an affected, ‘action movie’ voice, “If I tell you, I might have to kill you.”

“It’s worse ways to die out there.”

Margo looks around her as if to make sure no one’s listening, then leans in.

“It’s short for Marguerite.”

Miles snaps his fingers.

“I knew it!”

“What? You think I look like a Marguerite? Seriously?”

“No, but you got a lil’ country twang in your voice. Ain’t no way in hell Margo wasn’t short for something.”

“Man, alright,” she laughed. 

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that,” he winked, “I like ‘em country.”

“Boy, don’t give me that! You look like you’d pass out at the sight of a jar of pig’s feet.”

“Hey now, I got family in South Carolina. I used to go down there and see about ten of those every summer.”

“Fine, but you were still raised a Northerner. I could hear the Brooklyn from a mile away.”

Miles removed his hand from under his chin to clutch his chest.

“Ugh, I feel like I’m caught between two worlds!”

The reference to one of the more choice lines from the poetry slam makes Margo snort and let out a loud guffaw, which she quickly muffles with the palm of her hand.

“Why would you remind me of that!”

Miles is soon infected by the fit of laughter and has to put all his strength into not doubling over at the table and drawing attention.

“This nigga said,” he wheezed, “ ‘I keep doing the Achy Breaky to Suavemente!’ “

“I thought I was the only one who thought that shit sucked,” Margo sighed as she wiped a tear from her eye. “But I didn’t wanna be mean ‘cuz I’m not like, half Puerto Rican, or anything like that.”

“Well I am, and that whole poem felt like a microaggression. And I knew that guy!” He starts gesturing wildly with his hands at the outrage, which Margo finds hilarious. 

“He's like, one-eighth Boricua. His last name is fuckin’ Schwartz!” Miles scoffs, “He don’t know shit about no damn ‘Suavemente’. Bet he looked it up.”

“You should write your own poem, then. ‘Take up space’, as they say.”

“Hell no,” he said. “I left that behind in high school. The other night was an exception, remember?”

“Look, I’m not one to encourage more people to become poets, but you never know. Something might inspire you.”

Miles calms down and gives her a meaningful look.

“Maybe.”

The rest of the conversation saw Miles slyly gathering intel through bites of roasted chicken. He’d quickly learned from their meeting at the bar that his line of questioning with Margo ought to be less direct.

He even hit her with the ‘what’s your sign’ question, though Biggie would’ve advised against it (Margo was a Libra, he was a Leo). He didn’t actually care for astrology, but Margo wasted no time in proclaiming that she couldn’t stand Scorpios because they were ‘too nosy’. 

Miles’ only error was asking if she’d ever dated–correction–spoken to one, and her eyes hardened with suspicion again. He quickly elected to change the subject.

“Okay, totally random question, but humor me. How do you like your eggs?”

Margo blinks twice.

“What?”

“You heard me. You can tell a lot about a person by what kinda eggs they like, true shit.”

“Alright, fine. I like ‘em fried, with the crispy edges. What that say about me?”

“I dunno, but when I find out it’ll all make sense.”

Margo laughs.

“Okay, well, how do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled, fluffy,” A childish grin spread across Miles’ lips. “And seasoned with Adobo to make ‘em all orange.”

“Never had ‘em like that before.”

“Maybe I could make some for you sometime, if you’d let me.”

“Maybe.”

She remembers his promise a month later when she wakes up to the aroma of the seasoning and hears the pop of frying oil, letting out a sigh of relief at the realization that Miles is still there.

His back is facing her when she enters the kitchen, the morning light illuminating a tattoo she had never seen before. 

It’s a spider with sprawling legs that cascade all the way down the expanse of skin, the movement of his shoulder blades bringing them partially to life. She hadn’t noticed it in the dark, and he was not one to walk around in anything revealing enough for it to have ever seen daylight. It’s faded, which means he’s likely had it for years.

He’s only twenty-one, she thinks. Did he get it in high school?

Amusement creeps onto Margo’s face at the image of Miles sneaking around the house, darting in and out of the bathroom to clean it without his hawk-eyed mother or straight-edged father taking notice. Picturing this, it’s suddenly much easier to believe that their son would have to beg and plead for them to send him a measly forty-six miles away for school, even for an Ivy League. 

Miles doesn’t turn around yet, but Margo catches the way he stops, tilting his head playfully and placing a hand on his hip.

“Man, I can’t believe I’mma have to eat this whole thing of scrambled eggs all by myself, with the ones I just fried! How sad.” “You’re not very funny,” Margo says with a smile, pulling out a chair from beneath the dining table.

He switches the stove off, then does a dramatic spin to face her with fake surprise on his face.

“Oh! Where’d you come from? I didn’t see you there.”

He turns back around to grab two plates–ceramic ones, not the stack of styrofoam ones–from one of the cupboards to serve the eggs in, starting with fried.

Margo watches him silently. The tiny, squint-or-you-might-miss-it gold chain around his neck catches the light as he moves, and she remembers feeling the cold metal brush across her lips.

“The fried ones, are they–”

“Crispy at the edges?” he finishes, with a smile in his voice. “Yes ma’am!”

“You could really be a detective, can’t get nothing past you.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“See?”

The two burst into laughter, and the ink on Miles’ back does also. His poem was accurate, in a way. For the past five weeks, Margo has been no more than ten feet away from a spider.

They have a brief and quiet breakfast, wherein Margo finally asks to try the scrambled eggs and is delighted by the burst of flavor added by the Adobo. They aren’t too dry or too soggy the way they tend to be in restaurants - just fluffy, as promised. She thinks it might be time to finally start taking Miles at his word as she watches his back again while he’s washing dishes.

Once he is fully dressed and about to leave, Miles stops suddenly, as if he’s forgotten something. He reaches into the left pocket of his jacket and pulls out a neatly-folded sheet of paper, nervously running his other hand through the short dreads sitting atop his head.

“Before I leave, I, uh…I took your advice and wrote a lil’ something.”

He hands it to Margo, who takes it gingerly. 

“Well, good for you.”

“It’s been a while, so it’s kinda rough, but hopefully the sentiment is there.”

Miles plants a quick kiss on her cheek, and she smiles easily for once as opposed to the usual raised eyebrow.

“I’ll be sure to let you know if it is.”

Some time after he leaves, she finally sits down to read it while sipping on a cup of tea, because coffee wreaks havoc on her nerves. His handwriting is strange, overly graphic as if it’s the title card of a cartoon, but she reads it.

I know you don't like poetry 

but you said you liked mine,

and the way you sip your wine

has set my pen to paper,

so I hope 

you'll make another exception. 

You've already claimed

half of my sketchbook 

because I just can't get your eyes right.

I always make ‘em too soft,

or too round.

They don't pierce through me,

like they did when

you stared at me over your glass,

eyes narrowed.

When you search my face

and pick me apart,

I'd like to know what it is 

you're always searching for.

[zqmbiescorpse]

𝗧𝗥𝗨𝗧𝗛 𝗢𝗥 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗘..

kaitlyn ka x female reader

a/n: i've been dying for kaitlyn fics, and just the quarry fics in general, because there's hardly any and that makes me want to cry. anyways, first thing i'm hopefully posting so no bullying pls. no werewolves! also sorry if the ending feels like it could be improved, i just really wanted to be finished with this <3

warnings: nothing serious, some making out

word count: 2.4k

(masterlist)

The joyous, fun atmosphere surrounding the gentle flicker of the campfire quickly disappeared, leaving the mood somewhat awkward as everyone who had remained (being Dylan, Ryan and yourself) turned towards Kaitlyn with a disappointed look.

"What?" questioned the small ravenette, sensing the glares from the three of you while she feigned innocence at the situation she, may have, intentionally, created.

"You totally ruined the party man," Dylan absentmindedly responded, taking a sip of whatever beer was left. All of you were a little tipsy, sober enough that thinking clearly wasn't an issue but drunk enough to feel a warm woozy sensation floating around your bodies.

In all truth, you weren't bothered in the slightest by the absence of Jacob, Abi, Emma or Nick. You did like them, sure, though being with them throughout the summer was often challenging - you typically found yourself enjoying the company of the others instead.

The four of you had stuck together for a large portion of the time, and you felt you'd become pretty close; so close that, naturally, you formed a humongous crush on the confident, very attractive, super cool dark-haired girl that was sometimes a little mean to you.

With Kaitlyn, you could never be quite sure about how she felt about you, there had been a few occasions where you doubted if she even liked as a friend. She was hard to read and you were a bit sensitive so, as you can imagine, things got tricky - having a ton of feelings for her only made you suffer greatly.

Then again, when these times occurred where you were miserable, Kaitlyn would periodically open up to you and let you know that, yes, she did appreciate you. Small moments of affirmation after so much doubt made you feel so unbelievably fuzzy inside. Unfortunately, the pair of you were tremendously insecure, because of this, there was a lot of dancing around each other the entire summer, similarly to Nick and Abi.

Suddenly desperate to relish in what could be the last evening with her, a rapid demand to continue the entertainment of 'truth or dare' came spilling from your mouth.

'Someone's...eager," Ryan chuckled slowly, glancing over at you and then at Dylan with a knowing glint in his eye.

Following this, Dylan offered, "Y/N's just disappointed she didn't get to smooch anyone this evening."

"You and me both, Y/N."

It was such a quiet array of words yet everyone heard Kaitlyn mutter them - nobody said anything back.

You were so hopelessly in love with her, that you couldn't help but hang onto anything Kaitlyn said that remotely resembled a reciprocation of feelings.

Shyly, you lifted your gaze from the muddy floor to your friends around you, careful not to stare directly at her gorgeous face. Whatever you were about to say next needed to be calm, one hundred percent normal and definitely not suggestive of anything.

With a brief amount of consideration and overthinking, you said, "Well, I don't know, what else is there to do right now? We can keep playing without the others."

You needed to stop working yourself up over such minuscule things; with Kaitlyn anywhere near you, you couldn't control yourself. Not being a fumbling mess was incredibly difficult.

"Yeah sure, why the fuck not?" Dylan chimed back in with a sense of glee, intrigued to see what would happen next.

"Cool alright, Kaitlyn?"

Deep down, it was clear to you that she would join back in, but part of you still inwardly thanked Ryan for ensuring that she was interested in continuing.

"I'm in, of course," A short pause. "You're a bit far away from us Y/N, you should get a bit closer, come here..."

Watching as Kaitlyn patted the empty space on the rough log impatiently, indicating you join her, an eruption of warmth covered your cheeks at her attention being on you; her wanting you next to her.

"Yeah, come on over here Y/N!"

Obviously, it didn't feel as special when Dylan said it, though, you appreciated how it got rid of some of the tension.

"Okay okay, yes, I'm coming," You spoke up, giggling, absolutely infected with giddiness that was bursting to show. You're sure it did, a big goofy smile plastered to your face as you made your way to the opposite side of the campfire. Apparently, the delight spread to Kaitlyn since you could've sworn she was attempting to mask an excited grin too.

Immediately, a soft scent of honey mixed with something floral was all you could smell, each and every time you inhaled. It made you feel very comfortable.

"Who wants to start it off this time?" inquired Ryan, yet your attention was instantly torn away from him due to the sensation of a soft, smaller hand brushing over your slightly sweaty one.

There was not a doubt in your mind. You had already jumped to the conclusion that it was intentional. From doing an action so small as turning away from you to face Ryan, how could Kaitlyn's hand touch yours in the process if it were on accident? There was no time to think rationally, you were already freaking out like mad. And she loved it.

"I'll go."

Leaving no room for arguments, Kaitlyn's head whipped back round to face you once more, this time with a playful theme prominent within her features.

"Y/N. Truth or dare," she asked, intently, her pretty eyes trained on your very nervous self.

You couldn't pick a place to focus your line of sight, eyes darting from her straight to the floor and back at your two shaky hands resting in your lap. Not in a million years were you prepared to answer 'dare'. In what world did you have the confidence.

Telling yourself it was the sensible response, you requested 'truth' like the jittery coward you are - to nobody's surprise but to Kaitlyn's disappointment.

"Tryna play it safe, are we, Y/N? I'm not letting you off that easily," was all she said as you sat there, patiently awaiting for whatever abomination that was heading your way.

Finally, you observed as her eyes lit up with a sudden delight; her full attention, once again, solely focused on you, not quite prepared for what was coming next.

"Out of everyone here, meaning me, Dylan or Ryan, who would you be the most interested in dating...and you have to answer otherwise it's no fun."

The situation wouldn't have felt awfully suffocating if it weren't for your stupid crush, which you were starting to suspect Kaitlyn was fully aware of. Her plump lips contorted mischievously into something smug - a perfectly arched eyebrow raised while she continued staring you down.

Because of the intense stare and immense amount of pressure you felt you were under, you missed a faint flash of worry flicker in her eye at your hesitation; uncertain whether or not her question had backfired on her.

Words couldn't describe the newfound urge tugging at your stomach to let her know that you so badly wanted to date her, to be with her, to kiss her. You couldn't handle rejection in the slightest but also couldn't bare the thought of letting this go on much longer - missing your chance when you had it.

You felt yourself tearing apart because of a silly crush on a girl who was way too good for you; evidently taking this unimportant game way too seriously. This time, you locked eyes with Kaitlyn, your heart racing, making an effort to bring any remnants of confidence together to prepare an answer.

"Uhhhh, I'd probably wanna date you, Kaitlyn?"

You had never experienced something simultaneously this underwhelming and overwhelming. Really, your response was very simple, basic, and not that huge. If, by chance, the beautiful ravenette was utterly disgusted by your answer it could be put down to merely a game and everyone would move on. You would be devastated but you'd get over it.

Having said that, repulsion was the last thing Kaitlyn felt regarding your answer, instead, a frantic fuel ignited within her. For a moment, she kind of just gawked at you, a bashful awkwardness radiating from your features.

"Truth or dare," she asked once more, this time the question coming across as more demanding, and a slight shake was apparent in her voice. Desperation spurred over her yet she seemed to be concealing it quite well, aside from the little chew on her lip while she awaited your answer, the nervous habit being the only indication of how Kaitlyn felt.

"Hey, what!" Dylan interjected, "Why are you going again, Kaitlyn? It's Y/N's turn."

Though you had to admit that Dylan's disapproval was amusing, you were too engulfed in whatever was happening between you and her. Nothing but you and her. Bathing in her alluring nature, you really did not mean to take this long to respond, you shouldn't be keeping someone that exquisite waiting.

"Dare..."

To outsiders, the atmosphere didn't appear tense at all. The luminous blaze of the golden camp, flickered and your chest tightened by the second.

"I dare you," Kaitlyn breathed out, her words trailing off implying a wane in confidence. Again, she was doubting herself, even when, at this point, the both of you had been as open as you could about your intense romantic interest for each other without explicitly saying anything.

You observed her complexion closely, each insecurity conveyed on her face made your heart rate increase consequently. You yearned for her to give in and do something to relieve all the built up anxiety, yet couldn't blame her too much since you found yourself incapable of initiating the first move.

An abrupt change conjured. Kaitlyn ostensibly bolder.

"I dare you to kiss me."

Silence. You inched forward but couldn't quite make it all the way. You didn't know what it was, something was holding you back. Also, with the audience of the two boys, you couldn't help your sheepish nature.

As though she couldn't handle it anymore, impatient because of your hesitancy, Kaitlyn took matters into her own hands and closed the gap, her soft lips meeting yours. Certain she would tease you about your failure to for fill the dare, you decided it was best to concern yourself with it later - a highly insignificant worry, really.

The kiss didn't last too long. The bliss you felt quickly overpowered by insecurity, and maybe disappointment too. You had hoped the moment you had been chasing for months would at least be longer than a few seconds. Grateful you got to kiss her, yet, you needed more.

"That was...terrible. I'm sorry," You mumbled bashfully, barely audible for Dylan and Ryan.

"Nu-uh baby, it was good," She whispered back, then tugging your face toward her once more.

Whereas the first peck was delicate, shy and over in a few seconds, in this instance, the kiss was deepened almost immediately. Her gentle hands cupped your flushed cheeks, promoting you to tightly grasp at her clothes. It took all of your power to not let any whimpers or whines escape you, making out with someone while other people were around was embarrassing enough as is.

"Okay...guys..." Ryan, being the first to speak up, broke the immersion, the two of you reluctantly pulling away from each other.

"Totally digging how happy you are right now, but, you know, lodge is empty..." Dylan chimed in, somewhat less awkward than Ryan.

You shared a look with Kaitlyn, your shortness of breath mirrored after your lips had been pressed against one another's for an extended period of time.

"Sounds great, thanks Dylan," Kaitlyn rose from her place seated on the log, enthusiasm oozing from her. "Let's get going huh, Y/N?" She proposed, laced with sultry.

You stayed seated, a little dumbfounded about the kiss and relishing in the electric sensation circulating in your body. Kaitlyn gripped your wrist, gaining your attention as her request caught up with you.

"Uh, yeah...yes we should go," Stumbling over your words, you got up, waved to Dylan and Ryan and began your journey back to the lodge. Incoherent mumbling could be heard from the pair left behind. You ignored it, giggling slightly and walked beside Kaitlyn.

When you arrived, you opened up the wooden door and stepped inside, Kaitlyn not giving you an opportunity to voice your opinion on anything; her mouth soon latched onto yours.

It was hungry, and you returned the passion. Although she may have been smaller than you, she still forced you up against one of the aging walls of the building; her tongue buried in your mouth. There was no fight for dominance, Kaitlyn was in control, not that you minded. It was such a rush, her lips all over your cool skin, your trembling hands in her dark hair, the occasional raspy chuckles from her, and the whines from you. Anything either one of you did spurred the other on wildly.

Eventually, distances had to be created since you couldn't keep going without catching your breath.

"I can't believe it took us that long to do this. We could've been having hot make-out sessions all summer" Kaitlyn beamed with genuine delight, her hands retreating from being all over you to placed on her hips, taking her usual sassy stance.

"I know," You agreed, laughing," I was so scared about being rejected"

"It's okay, I was equally terrified. Better late than never I suppose. At least we know now." The ravenette smirked, gazing into your eyes, entertained by how dishevelled you looked, encouraging her to admit, "I seriously am so fucking attracted to you."

Again, you let out a giggle, a noise that Kaitlyn thought was endearing. "Well, I've been fawning over you for like ages now." You blushed, the confession sparking a wave of heat to pass over you. Even though your actions had already said enough, disclosing the information made your shoulders feel externally lighter.

"It does really suck that it's the end of camp, going our separate ways and all" You continued, dejectedly. You were overjoyed that you were finally sharing these movements with Kaitlyn but hated yourself for holding off this long.

She examined your rapidly declining mood, likewise, she was regretful for waiting, however, not an ounce of uncertainty clouded her mind.

"What is there to worry about? Of course, we can stay in touch, I'm serious about this and...I do want to be with you." She reassured you, offering a loving smile filled with comfort. "Just give me your number, baby."

[ittostan]

"It was a little mistake"

Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

Genre- Angst

Show- Stranger things

Warnings- Angst (no comfort), kind of OOC Eddie, terrible writing, L Eddie

Word count- 1,671 words 8,727 characters

Author note- hey guys so I guess the original post of the first part disappeared!! So here it is again (SECOND PART IS STILL UP!!)

For some people, it came as a surprise when they heard you hung out with the freak of Hawkins. You were surprised when others were surprised. Did it just not seem like you would? You weren't popular, but you guess you weren't really an outsider either. You never talked to kids who were considered popular or not many who were considered losers-- unless Chrissy Cunningham was considered popular and Eddie Munson a loser. You usually talked to Chrissy at parties when Jason was with the team, and she saw the chance away from the crowds of people when she was near you. With Eddie, you two started hanging out after grabbing the same Black Sabbath cassette tape.

"Uh...I had this first, so I'll just take it," you said, tugging it towards yourself.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure I had my eyes on it first, so it's definitely mine." He pulled it towards him.

"Dude, I grabbed it first. Just give it to me."

"If I can't have it, nobody can." He gave one last tug with all his strength and threw the tape on the floor, breaking it into what looked like a million pieces, then realized he had it just in his hands for a few seconds and could've taken it.

"You break it, you buy it," a voice yelled, then having you two run out and run to your cars, driving off. The next day, bright and early in the morning, Eddie Munson saw the one and only guy he saw at the music store, and it got even worse seeing you starting to walk up to him. "Munson is it? Eddie Munson" you asked, with just a hint of annoyance in your voice. Were you stalking him now? Oh god, you probably knew every single thing about him. Every secret. Everything! "Hello?" you waved your hand in front of his face to have him snap back into reality. "Yea, that’s me," the man with the birds' nest in his hair said.

"You owe me ten bucks."

"Even better... I'll take you to a little fun game." He didn't really have ten bucks, so he decided why not invite this cute person to something even better than 10 bucks! His dnd campaign!

Eddie didn't really tell you what he meant, but after school, he met with you at the room where they had their meetings, and to be honest, you never really looked at this room, seeing all the stuff for maybe theater. You saw a table surrounded by guys that had the same shirts as Eddie did, saying ‘HELLFIRE CLUB’ with a devil or demon it looked like and other things.

You never really talked to any of the people here, but you knew some of them just by their names. Mike Wheeler is the brother of Nancy Wheeler. Dustin Henderson hangs out with Steve Harrington. Lucas Sinclair is on the basketball team. Gareth’s talked to me a few times. The others you had no idea about, but you looked for a free chair and, luckily, it looked like Eddie had put one out for you! You sat down in it and looked at the game that was set out on the table. The whole game, you were confused and confused about how this made up for your ten dollars.

After that day, Eddie made it up to you after you kept asking for the 10 dollars, and he just bought you the cassette tape at that point. You did continue to hang out with the Hellfire Club and became friends with them all, still keeping your place as not a loser and not popular. Now, after a few months of keeping that place and hanging out with the club and Eddie outside of school, you started to develop feelings for THE Edward Munson. You weren't in some little romance movie, so you definitely couldn't just tell him straight up, so maybe give hints?

You started to sit closer to him.

You left little flirty words when talking to him

Tried nicknames

You got kinda touchy (put your hand on his mostly).

Nothing.

You even told him "I like you."

He laughed it off. He laughed at your confession.

Now you were in your room, laying in the middle of your bed, arms and legs spread out, wondering if he liked you back. He never stopped smiling around you. He was always calling you cute names... but then again, he did those with basically everyone he got along with. You rolled over on your stomach, groaning in a complaint, then kicking your mattress over and over till your legs hurt. Something came to your head. It’s like 6 pm. Eddie is probably setting up for hellfire. Alone. You rushed to get up and put on your slippers because of how much you were in a rush, then ran out of the house and got into your car to drive to Hawkins High School even after you left like two hours or three ago. You saw Eddie's van and parked next to it, getting out of the car and stuffing the keys into your pocket. Going inside the school, you heard muffled arguing, so you walked towards it, seeing the slightly open door to the theater room, but when you were going to walk in, the mention of your name made you freeze.

"You said they told you they liked you as a joke? Well, do you like them? " you heard Micheal Wheeler say

"Like them? [your name]? Are you joking right wheeler?" Eddie laughed, "They’re not my type. Let's say I like people who give me some space. That is the opposite of them. They’re always near me like if they aren't they’ll die! There's no way someone could be into that." The group laughed, continuing to completely shit on you. The way you act, the way you dress. The people you spoke to. Every Single. Thing. How could you be so stupid to think Eddie would like you? The only reason the two of you started talking was that you told him he owed you ten dollars. If you hadn't gone up to him that day, you wouldn't have spoken a word to him and he wouldn't have to you either. You could feel tears filling your eyes just threatening to come out if you didn't leave.

You did end up going home and face-planting into your bed, instantly sobbing into your pillow with the things the club had been saying were repeating over and over in your head, basically being imprinted into your mind. The one thing that stuck out to you the most was what Eddie said before you left "Meeting them was a little mistake. Trust me. I don't want them here any less than you guys do. I feel bad for anybody who dates them," his voice said, filled with hatred and annoyance but a small bit of regret that you didn't pick up. That's when you left, so that’s all you had heard, and you were glad you left since you don't think you could take anymore.

The next day felt like the devil himself planned this day. You got up and took a shower bright and early in the morning, then did whatever you did before going off to school, and when you got to the parking lot, it was getting filled with student cars and people getting dropped off. You drove into the parking lot quickly, taking a parking spot that someone almost stole from you. You got out of the car and ran your hands through your fingers, walking to the school doors. "[Your name]!!" someone called, but you ignored it and continued walking through the halls. "[Your Name]!" was called out again, so you turned your head and saw the metal head walking towards you with his hands in his pocket and a smile on his face, acting like he was innocent. Like he didn't hate you. Like he didn't even say your whole friendship was a mistake and he didn't even want it to happen. Sometimes you just wanted to choke him till his face turned blue, but you didn't let your thoughts get the best of you or you’d end up in prison.

All day he had been trying to get your attention, but you either walked in another direction, hid around corners, or simply just ignored him, acting as if he didn't even exist. Now on his side, he didn't know what to do. He tried walking beside you and talking, but you didn't even breathe his way. Not even a little side-eye. What did he do? Did a rumor come out about him? Did you just not feel well? Did you not want to be friends? He saved a spot for you at the hellfire’s table right next to him..no show. He was even saving an extra drink for you. Last night they didn't finish the campaign due to all the talk about you, so he told everyone to come the next day so they could get a little further, probably just for an hour. It was after school and he left you a note in your locker that said they were having hellfire if you wanted to come. You read it... then threw it away.

While the guys were at Hellfire, he stared at the empty seat that had been left for you. Where were you? What did he do?

A week has passed. Then 2. Then 3. Then, somehow, it was 21 weeks, 147 days, 3528 hours, and 211680 minutes without you. He tried to make it up to you. He did. You told him a month later in a little paper but never spoke to him again. He bought you a few things to make it up to you, but none worked. He missed your smile. He missed your laugh. He missed how on little movie nights you’d add some random candies to the popcorn. He missed you. He made the biggest mistake ever. Losing you

[virtualcarrot]

[KKIR] All it takes is one stumble

(Posted on AO3)

-

By the time Iruka's putting the finishing touches to the training ground, the sun's hanging low in the sky.

Some of his hair's come loose over the day's work, sweat-slick threads of it striking unevenly along his hairline. He wipes his brows with the back of his hand and--oh great, from the gritty feel of it, guess now he has dirt on his face. He huffs in tired amusement and looks over.

The spread of land around him looks as untouched as ever, with only his leftover supplies to give his presence away, along with the pale vest he cast off when he started heating up from the exertion. Once everything's picked up, it'll be like he was never here.

His spine protests with a crack when he draws himself up, the old scar tugging unpleasantly with the motion. He frames his lower back right under the hem of his mesh armor, pulls his shoulders wide open and arches in a stretch.

The relief is such that he groans with it.

"Ah!" A yelp sounds from over the treeline, followed by a thud.

A couple of startled pigeons take flight.

Iruka sighs. He was so very clear, when booking the training ground, to claim it as off limits while he makes use of it. Honestly, it's a wonder anyone even bothers with the schedules.

When he makes his way over, the great Hatake Kakashi, retired Rokudaime, looks up sheepishly at him from a sprawl in the bottom of the pit.

"Yo."

"I--How?!"

"Hazards of the road of life."

"Right."

"There are sirens on it. You know. Creatures of the sea. Very distracting ones."

"I'm sure..."

Apparently quite content to sit in the dirt, Kakashi gives no signs of getting up. Moreso, for a man already at ground-level, he looks strangely unsteady. His torso sways from side to side, like it's tempted to slump even further.

Iruka narrows his eyes. "What the hell did you do to be chakra deprived?"

"Aah, kocho-sensei... Let's take it as a lesson. I am but a humble, living reminder to warn your students against hubris."

"You were pushing the limits of your chakra pool, weren't you?"

"Never had time when I was Hokage. Did you know I can now use close to thirteen chidori ?"

"Make it twelve next time so you're still able to walk back."

At the edge of the pit, Iruka finds a protruding root. He ties a piece of rope to it and throws down the other end.

The softly sloped walls shouldn't be hard to climb back.

"Aaah, about that..."

Iruka groans. "You're hurt, aren't you?"

"Sprained my ankle," Kakashi says cheerfully. "Nice trap, by the way."

"You never should've--It's a trap for pre-genin," Iruka grumbles as he makes his way down.

There aren't a great many dignified ways of picking up a grown-ass man, yet Kakashi plain refuses to settle in a fireman's carry. Even on low chakra reserves, he's serious enough about struggling out of the hold that, short of employing actual force, Iruka has to retreat.

Hands on his hips, Iruka glares down at him, aggrieved. "Really, Kakashi? Nobody will care about your bony ass sticking up!"

"Naive of you to think so." Kakashi holds his arms up. "Come on, sensei, I'm sure you give great piggybacks."

"Oh for the love of--!" Iruka grouses. Yet he still crouches and presents his back to Kakashi.

For someone so worried about appearances, Kakashi clearly doesn't mind the ridiculous fumbling that follows. His legs have to grip Iruka's waist like a baby monkey's to leave Iruka's hands free ro grasp the rope, but they eventually figure it out.

Once they're out, Iruka catches Kakashi's thighs behind the knee and proceeds to make his careful way out of the trap field. It's unlike him to show himself in public looking so underdressed, but needs must. He'll come back for his supplies and vest later.

Kakashi shifts like he's inspecting the field before settling back.

"Nice thing you've got going on, here. Tell me about it," he says from on over, bony chin digging in the top of Iruka's head while he speaks.

Iruka frowns distractedly as he counts his steps before walking around what should be a mild exploding ink tag burried under a thin layer of dirt. "You know about it already."

There's something almost hug-like to the squeeze of Kakashi's arms over his shoulders.

"Hm. But you like talking about it."

Now Iruka's just embarrassed. "You should tell me to stop when I'm prattling at you, you know."

Kakashi sinks deeper against his back, the soft cloth of his mask rubbing gently against Iruka's temple that Kakashi has seen fit to touch his lower jaw to.

"...I'm doing the opposite, if you haven't noticed," he says, voice warm and sleepy.

Iruka sighs again, but this time it's fond. The walk back to the center of Konoha is made to the tale of his hopes for the Academy's new lesson plans and the room they give students for experimentation and discovery and specialization. It's been a longtime project of his, in this time of peace, to transform the ninja Academy into a place of learning instead of the soldier-popping machine it used to aspire to be.

Kakashi gives a few encouraging hums at appropriate times, and a few renewed not-quite-hugs-but-close-enough. Very close enough.

Just before they reach the first building of the village, Iruka gives into the urge to nuzzle Kakashi's arm and gently squeezes his thighs in response. Kakashi's breath stutters.

Then, little by little, he melts against Iruka's back with a sigh of contentment.

*

Sakura looks entirely unimpressed at their sight.

''What's he done now?" she asks, stepping aside to let them in.

Kakashi gives her a lazy wave of acknowledgement and droops into a dead weight across Iruka's back. It's too deliberate not to raise some warning bells.

''I fell head over heels,'' Kakashi drawls, the shape of a smirk sounding his words.

And, well... What a circumvoluted way of coming clear.

Iruka drops him unceremoniously on the couch and begins making meal plans for their evening together.

[markdelonge]

. . . .

title: "never let you go"

req: no

pairing: travis barker x fem!reader

warnings: age gap (not that bad), cussing, she/her prns

blink masterlist

. . . .

track 2: blazed

look at you, love, you are the same. you have a light you cannot hide. yes, you may have a different face, but your soul is the same inside. i don't care who is listening because they be making fun of this on tv. they wouldn't laugh if they were inside my past life with you and they were me

. . . .

nobody .. and i repeat, nobody liked it when your relationship with travis hit the internet.

you weren't famous yourself. you actually lived a pretty normal life. you had just so happened to run into one of the biggest drummers in the world and fell for him.

people didn't like the relationship because of the age gap .. i mean, you were 36, and he was 47. most people assumed that it was a 'sugar daddy' situation or you had only wanted him for his money, which wasn't the truth. you truly loved that man with everything in you.

and for travis .. it was a loss for words when he first met you. for him, it was like looking into a mirror, but the reflection was more vibrant and alive than he ever thought possible. you were almost the same height as him, had many tattoos, and even had the same love for music as he did. it was like he had found his other half.

he loved how you understood him in a way that no one else ever had. you finished each other's sentences, laughed at the same jokes, and shared the same passions. It was like your souls were connected in some way.

when you and him officially started dating, it was like a dream come true. he did everything with you, from writing music to traveling the world. you were each other's best friend and soulmate.

you sat on the bed you shared with travis, scrolling through the comments people had left on your most recent instagram post. you had no idea how they found your account, but God, were they mean.

you had spent almost an hour reading article after article, tweet after tweet, comment after comment. people were not taking the announcement well. the picture travis had posted on his account were filled with comments like:

"i can tell this isn't gonna last long"

"wtf dude she's like 15 years younger than you"

" oh, she's definitely after his money"

how could those people talk badly on you when they don't even know who you are?

you sighed, the feeling of your heart aching bringing your mood down.

"they're so mean, trav" you said as you turned off your phone and threw it somewhere on the bed.

"didn't i tell you not to read the comments?" he asked as he grabbed your phone and unlocked it, reading some of the comments himself.

"it's kinda hard to ignore them when there's literally thousands of them" you whined, laying down on the bed.

"maybe it was a bad idea for us to go public, we should've waited a while longer" you thought out loud

"babe, the media is the media. it wouldn't of mattered if we went public two years from now. they'll always act this way." the drummer explained, sitting next to you.

"and they don't know you the way i know you. i bet if they knew the kind of person you really are, they wouldn't say shit about you. " travis said, looking down at you.

"you just gotta learn how to ignore it, baby" he said

"how though? how do you do it?" you asked

travis shrugged before answering

"i'm kinda just used to it. no matter what i do, there's gonna be someone talking shit about me. i just ignore it" he explained, laying next to you.

"i aspire to be like you." you turned to face him, only halfly-joking

the two of you laid in silence for a few seconds

"i love you" you and him said in sync, which caused you and your boyfriend to share a surprised look.

"jinx." travis spoke soon after

"you owe me a new pair of sticks." he joked

"whatever, travis" you laughed

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Eye of the World! Chapter 10: Leavetaking

I feel like saying "Hello" at the start of these is silly, but I don't know what else to do to start up each section of this reread! This reread is filled with more spoilers than a Cliff's Notes Omnibus, so if you're trying to avoid them you should avoid this post too. Run away like the gang is skipping town!

This chapter has Moiraine's staff for its icon and I think it's just because she's taking charge of everyone's fates now, or trying to. The Wheel's gonna weave though, whether she likes it or not.

“I looked,” Perrin replied. “There’s nobody here but us. Why would anybody hide—”

Why would anybody try to destroy your hometown, Perrin? I think people think you're slow because of stupid questions like this.

Rand thought about flourishing the sword, but Lan being there stopped him. The Warder was not even looking in his direction, but he was sure the man was aware of everything that went on around him.

Rand's constant need for Lan's approval in all things is wonderful and I'm going to point it out every time it happens. If you don't like it, join the people afraid of spoilers.

“Master Luhhan made it about two years ago, for a wool-buyer’s guard. But when it was done the fellow wouldn’t pay what he had agreed, and Master Luhhan would not take less. He gave it to me when”—he cleared his throat, then shot Rand the same warning frown he’d given Mat—“when he found me practicing with it. He said I might as well have it since he couldn’t make anything useful from it.”

A DIscord buddy of mine said that Perrin is basically what happens when King Arthur grows up next to Crystal Dragon Jesus, and boy is he desperate to prove it, since he also has a weapon inherited from a father figure but it's nowhere near as cool as Rand's Bladed Certificate of Badassery.

Anything can be a weapon, if the man or woman who holds it has the nerve and will to make it so.

Lan, meanwhile, once accepted a challenge to defeat a rampaging Trolloc army by using all the items in an abandoned Borderlander farm once each. Kind of a shame that we end up sticking mostly to traditional weapons and magic as the series goes on; stuff like Rand boiling the Trolloc with the kettle always has an extra fun element.

“We left notes,” Mat said. “For our families. They’ll find them in the morning. Rand, my mother thinks Tar Valon is the next thing to Shayol Ghul.” He gave a little laugh to show he did not share her opinion. It was not very convincing. “She’d try to lock me in the cellar if she believed I was even thinking of going there.”

Frankly Mat, I think that as long as you weren't being dragged off in irons, your mother would be quite happy to have you out of the house for a few months to grow up and not cause trouble.

Also, it's really weird that Perrin only mentions the Luhhans and not his own family. I'm aware that as Perrin is an apprentice he needs his teacher's approval to do things, but you'd think his parents would have a problem with this too. I hope Perrin actually left them a note too instead of just Luhahan; it would really suck if he missed this opportunity to say goodbye what with their imminent demise.

“Not without me.” Egwene slipped into the stable, a shawl-wrapped bundle in her arms. Rand nearly fell over his own feet.

One of my favorite things about the story is that our young lady is jumping at the chance for adventure and taking every opportunity to get while our young gents are being painfully dragged towards their doom. Egwene's not a ta'veren because the Pattern doesn't need to drag her around by the heels like it does with the layabouts; she's probably already planning on becoming Amyriln and she doesn't even know she can channel yet.

Do you think you three are the only ones who want to see what’s outside? I’ve dreamed about it as long as you have, and I don’t intend to miss this chance.

Sadly though, she does have a tendency to project. Absolutely none of the boys are leaving out of curiosity about the outside world; camping trips to the mountains are as far as they're interested in going.

A startled expression darted across Lan’s face. It was gone in an instant, leaving him outwardly calm, but furious words erupted from him. “No, Moiraine!”

It may seem a bit strange for stoic Lan to be having this outburst, but I stand by my fake dialogue from several chapters ago: dude is (rightly) convinced that Rand is the real deal and (wrongly) convinced that the others are just a waste of time. Now Moiraine's not even adding plausible candidates to their entourage, and who gets to hide all of their tracks? Lan. Dude might be loving the idea of becoming the Dragon Reborn's personal sword sensei, but babysitting the rest of these idiots is making him long to just go die in the Blight like he was going to twenty years ago.

“That will not be possible,” came Thom Merrilin’s resonant voice from the hayloft. Lan’s sword left its sheath this time, and he did not put it back as he stared up at the gleeman.

If this chapter was from Lan's POV, this is the point where his internal monologue would be lots of funny Borderland swears. And jeez Perrin, you "didn't think" of looking in the loft? That's like the most obvious hiding place!

Thom put his feet on the stable floor and turned from the ladder, brushing straw from his patch-covered cloak. “In fact,” he said in more normal tones, “you might say that I insist on traveling in company. I have given many hours over many mugs of ale to thinking of how I might end my days. A Trolloc’s cookpot was not one of the thoughts.”

Also, Thom may be using the Trollocs and lure of Tar Valon (not quoted but mentioned earlier) as excuses, but they're both BS. He knows damn well that he's not a target and that Moiraine's party is, so joining them only increases his risk. Further, he has no reason to go to Tar Valon unless he's ready to die by trying to off whatever Red Ajah witches killed his nephew, and right now he doesn't even know their names. He's just worried that one of the boys - all of the boys - might have the ability to channel and that they're being led to their doom, and he's willing to put up with a lot to save them if that's the case. Nobody in this stable is a paragon of morality, but they all have the hearts of heroes. As far as I'm concerned, all of them EXCEPT Mat (who doesn't wanna be) are bound to the Horn and this is just one hell of a crossover episode.

“Bela,” Rand said, getting a look from Lan that made him wish he had kept silent. But he knew he could not dissuade Egwene; the only thing left was to help.

Speaking of good hearts, I love the way that the EF5 are almost incapable of getting along but will still assist each other at nearly every opportunity.

The only horse left riderless was Cloud, a tall gray with a black mane and tail that belonged to Jon Thane, or had. 

Rand started this story with Bela and now that he's realized he's eight or nine years overdue for a properly mid-life crisis, he's traded her in for a racing model. Boy is gonna go through a lot of horses before this is over. Current horse count: 2

(There is no way I will remember this count by the time we get to the third horse, let alone the finale.)

“Wolves!” Perrin exclaimed, and the Warder favored him with a flat stare.

Foreshadowing! Boy deserves some since he hasn't really had much yet.

“Two Dha’vol Trollocs would have them all for breakfast,” Lan muttered when the sound of their boots had faded, “but they have eyes and ears.” He turned his stallion back. “Come.”

We don't know much about the Trolloc bands, but we can probably gather from this that the Dha'vols (guess the etymology!) are some of the least threatening.

Rand peered at the high-peaked houses in the dark, trying to impress them on his memory. A fine adventurer I am, he thought. He was not even out of the village yet, and already he was homesick. But he did not stop looking.

Don't be too hard on yourself, Rand. You're not coming back, not in this lifetime, and maybe even not in the next. Also your home is several miles away so you're further off than all the others.

A black shape flew slowly across the silvery ball of the moon. Rand’s involuntary jerk on the reins halted the gray. A bat, he thought weakly, but he knew it was not.

Meet the draghkar. I'm not quite certain where their name comes from (it seems to be a dragon variant), but they're pretty obviously (suc/in)cubi with hints of siren or vampire. Like the other variants of Shadowspawn seen thus far, draghkar are made from human beings, which makes me wonder: is there some sort of Fade equivalent to them, like what Trollocs have? Or is the genetic manipulation severe enough that the channeler gene doesn't exist in them, so no such throwbacks occur? Both options are frightening in different ways.

Also note that despite being potentially really effective threats against our heroes (one almost takes out Moiraine in book two after all), they pretty much drop off the face of the earth after book five or so. Sanderson brings them back for the Last Battle though, but sadly not in a way that really lets them shine. It might have just been too hard for either author to keep coming up with organic ways to include them that didn't end too much like previous encounters or with the readers going, "Yeah that person should be dead now." Or maybe the gholam ended up filling the same sort of niche too well.

It was Thom Merrilin who answered her hoarsely. “In the war that ended the Age of Legends, worse than Trollocs and Halfmen were created.” Moiraine’s head jerked toward him as he spoke. Not even the dark could hide the sharpness of her look.

Moiraine was born eons too late-early to watch Star Trek: The Next Generation, but if she could see it, like me she would absolutely hate it when Picard asks the away team what's happening and Riker answers, "Trouble" or something else that is only an answer in the most useless sense of the word. She really doesn't appreciate it coming from someone who knows they need to be quiet and whose contributions are doing nothing but scaring the children she's trying to kidnap. Thom, meanwhile, really doesn't appreciate it when women are Aes Sedai in his presence. Naturally, Jordan thinks they're soul mates.

But that's an unsatisfying romance for another book, and we're closing out another chapter, bringing us closer to the somewhat unsatisfying romance in this book! Next time: The Road to Taren Ferry!

[marvelousjj]

Some people have been checking on me to see what's bee going on with life. I figured I would post here about what's been going on. I'm gonna put most of it under a read more so nobody gets triggered. Might delete this later. I'm just feeling really down lately and could use some support.

First I have to take you way back to my senior year of highschool. For context I'm turning 33 in March. My parents were going camping, I was going to a performance I was in, and my brother was going out of town for a conference. My parents and step brothers went first, then I left, followed by my brother. I was called suddenly being told my mom was picking me up and I had to be outside waiting. After a silent car ride home we arrive to find a cop car waiting. After being interrogated for an hour the cop leaves. Why was the cop there? My parents claimed they came home to the door open and drugs on the coffee table. They said nothing was stolen. I took a drug test, came up negative for everything (and was even supervised while taking the test). I went to be crying that night and the following morning I was woken up at 6am saying my step dad would be home at noon for lunch and I had to be gone by then.

I had a whole second year of highschool I had to do. I didn't know how to live on my own, and suddenly I was sitting in a diner with a duffle bag, and not knowing where to go. I got up, I found a place to stay eventually, and I graduated the next year. All without my parents help.

Now...We can fast forward to present day...

I had moved back home after a very nasty breakup of a toxic relationship that lasted 3 years. This is after a long time of working on getting myself back on top, being diagnosed with debilitating anxiety and ptsd from said event that happened when I was in highschool. My mom came to me with information that my dad was gambling all their money away. Like, her whole savings. Then one morning I wake up to find I slept through my mom finding him smoking (and this is in his words) not meth but the closest thing he could make with over the counter stuff. She kicked him out and said she wanted a divorce. Little more context. I have an 8 year old child and have a history with my biological dad of drug abuse, so I have quite a bit of issues with that stuff. After FOUR DAYS he comes over in the middle of the night, and she lets him sleep over without telling my brother and I. When she comes downstairs and tells us he's moving back in, we both explained why we weren't comfortable with it, she had nothing to say.

I was heartbroken. I was basically told that after I didn't do anything all those years ago, I was kicked out, but all he had to say was sorry and he got to come right back. When I asked for an explanation (never even got an im sorry after all these years) he explained to me that there were other children in the house they needed to think about? And that if CPS got called they would lose all the kids? I had proven my innocence only to find out it didn't matter. I was a scape goat for my parents.

So my brother and I looked for a place, and I told my parents I wasn't interested in hearing anything they had to say and bid them a wonderful life. This apparently has caused my mother to harass me with messages (until finally I gave her one final warning to back off and now she has blocked me), saying my brother and I have given her ptsd over it, and claiming that I'm doing things like pulling the victim card. She even talks about me in chat like I'm not even there.

I can't go a single day without having a panic attack. I'm constantly on edge, my sleep schedule is all out of whack, and on top of that I'm getting ready to start life over in Indiana.

I don't know why I wrote this...other than it's really lonely right now. I feel like that same scared teenager and I'm realizing that my parents were never really in my corner. I guess I'm just looking for support. I'm not very good at making friends in person so a lot of people on here are my support circle.

Anyways...I'm gonna go try and find something to do. Thanks for reading if you did. And know you are loved and appreciated.

[katherine-mcnamara]

So considering my current mood etc. If anyone would like to see anything gif pack wise for the people listed below. They’re all I’m giffing outside of comms right now bc depression.

Katherine McNamara Hande Ercel Demet Ozdemir Marina Ruy Barbosa Camila Queiroz Willa Fitzgerald Elizabeth Lail Ana Brenda Conteras Aimee Carrero Macarena Achaga Caelynn Miller Keyes Ayca Aysin Turan Kiana Madeira Madison Iseman Shraddha Kapoor Alexandra Daddario Andi Matichak Ozge Yagiz Josephine Langford Cemre Baysel Jessica McNamee Daisy Head Joey King

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

— summary: after drunkenly defending the women of bau's honor, you arrive to a very worried aaron that's ready to patch you up.

— warnings: hurt/comfort, bar fights, a man hitting a woman, mentions of blood, bruises, fat phobia, use of the word fat in a negative context, aaron is super protective.

— wc: 692

⋆ a/n: this is the last criminal minds fanfiction i need to post over here!! i hope you hotch girlies enjoy!

masterlist | AO3

“I'm pretty sure JJ, Prentiss, and Penelope would have been able to take care of themselves." There was no amusement in Aaron's voice as he cleaned up the blood that stained your nose. "You're lucky he didn't break anything." You hissed as he accidentally put pressure on a bruise on your cheek. "I know, I know…" You sighed, "But the things that he was saying was downright vile, he was being an asshole, and somebody had to take him off his high horse.”

"But you could have gotten killed." You huffed at that. "Aaron, my love, my world, my everything, I can assure you that I would have been fine. Like you said, I had JJ, Prentiss, and Penelope; if they can handle themselves then they probably could have helped me." He tossed the bloody tissue to the side looking deep into your eyes.

You know that look, the one that he gives when he furrows his eyebrows, the wrinkles on his face much more prominent than usual. "I don't care about that, ________! What would have happened if those three weren't there? What if you were by yourself when you decided to play hero and there was nobody there to help you?"

You could tell he was slowly losing his patience with you, his usual stoic demeanor crumbling at the sight of your beat up and bruised face. You had to admit, you couldn't blame him for being so upset with you over this.

Even though you were a bigger girl — in what you believed to be every aspect — you felt as though you could handle the alpha male that was hitting on the three agents that you went out for a drink with; maybe it was the liquid courage that was making your self-confidence sky rocket, but you gave him a warning to which he responded with the all but classic 'You're fat' insult, you threw the first punch.

So that's how you ended up here, the girls dropping you off at home where your very worried boyfriend waited, the first aid kit already set up on the side table next to your couch. You were lucky the bars' patrons were able to get him off of you before any serious damage was done to you. He was able to land a gnarly sucker punch that shook you for a minute as you four were escorted out; so not only had you ruined their girl's night out that the other women were rarely able to get, but you also ended up with an angry Aaron.

As you sobered up from the cold glass of water, he had given you, you increasingly began to feel more like shit, emotionally and physically.

"I'm sorry, baby, I really I am. I just— you know how I handle alcohol, and you know who I was like before I met you, I really am trying my best to change." You let out a defeated sigh, your entire aura turning melancholic. Aaron softened at that, finishing up sanitizing your busted bottom lip before he laid a large hand on the side of your face, you instantly leaning into the warmth.

"I know, sweetheart. I can't afford to lose you, you know? I love who you were then, and who you are now, I just wish you would have been a little more careful. But you're right, all that matters now is that you're here, and I'm able to keep you safe." His thumb stroked your cheek.

"I made you a promise, Aaron. I'm not going anywhere, and I am going to try my best to keep myself out of trouble." He grinned the small smile that he saved just for you, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours gently.

"I would like to kiss you fully, but I don't want to hurt you." You scoffed and rolled your eyes, pushing your head forward to smash your lips onto his. When you pulled away, your cut stung, but you smiled through the pain. "You know I've dealt with worse than a little busted up lip." He chuckled, moving some hair out of your face.

"I know.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02

[illicitlimerence-writes]

sentimental | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x actress!reader word count: 2.6k words request: yes/no, by a nonnie :) "Hello there. Would you consider to write something about Charles Leclerc being in a relationship with Y/N!actress? It just popped in my head an scenario where they try to keep it private but anyways walk in the paddock holding hands at the begging of the season 🥺" i went completely overboard with this but i'm pretty happy with how it turned out. warnings: allusions to sex, swear words, i think that's it. this has several flashbacks so pls tell me if u find this confusing so i can correct it! it starts in 2019 and ends in december 2022. also, this was inspired by "billie bossa nova" by billie eilish, so i'd recommend listening to it as you read. a/n: i took a nap and i still feel so incredibly sad for lando. if this might take a while for me, i can't even imagine how he must be feeling :( also! thanks so much for all your messages and requests, and i'm sorry in advance if i don't post your fic as soon as you hoped. i write based on how i am feeling and sometimes writer's block hits me.

my masterlist

your relationship with charles was complicated. there weren't any issues between you, only your tight schedules and very public and busy lives stood in between your relationship. but you made it work in any way you could.

he'd fly to you as soon as his races were over and on his off weeks. and you'd join him whenever you weren't filming.

you'd been a fan of the sport since before you even scored your first acting role as a teenager. the first thing you'd bought with your first paycheck was a ticket to your home grand prix. and since everyone knew your love for racing, the italian team in particular, nobody questioned your presence in the paddock whenever you attended a race.

one thing that the public didn't know of, was your relationship with the ferrari driver. you'd met the monegasque at the 2019 italian grand prix. the scarlet team invited you on a tour of the factory in maranello. and who better to walk you through the historic building than their newest addition to the team. fresh-faced charles leclerc.

you spoke about your favorite drivers, his idols, and heroes. he talked about his last race, which he was still buzzing with excitement from.

it was something so surreal, seeing the hundreds of trophies and other awards they'd won over the years. he'd laughed at your shocked face, patting your shoulders when tears welled up in your eyes, feeling overwhelmed. as you took in all the history in front of you, he confided in you about the pressure he felt as they headed off to monza, which you completely understood. you reminded him of those that came before him, and everything he'd already accomplished for the team.

"but look at everything you've done already! pole positions, podiums, wins. not many drivers can say they've done all that in their first season with a new team. and those who've done it have become legends. no matter what happens in monza, you will be a ferrari legend. i've got a good feeling, though. mark my words, charles leclerc wins in spa, wins in monza." you said, watching as his face changed from disturbance to pride.

"have you ever thought about being a motivation coach?" he asked, making you laugh.

you exchanged numbers that day, promising you'd stop by the garage over the weekend to wish him good luck. as it turned out, he won the race in monza, his second win in a row. after all the champagne and interviews and celebrations, he made his way back to the garage, where you sat waiting for him. the team was going out to celebrate and had invited you.

"i don't want to say i told you, but..." you said, raising one eyebrow. he chuckled, nodding his head. "i told you."

"you did. i'm going to the hospitality, come with me?" he asked, you nodded and walked next to him. he was holding his huge trophy in his hand.

"that was an incredible race, you deserved this win. how are you feeling?"

"it doesn't feel real. two wins in a row i-" he didn't finish his sentence, but you nodded your head, understanding the feeling.

as your attendance to the paddock became more of a usual thing you saw each other more and more often as time passed, which meant it was only a matter of time before you became close friends. you stayed up talking with him at ungodly hours of the early mornings, he flew to you once when you were feeling incredibly nervous about an audition for an academy award-worthy role and waited with you until you eventually got the call.

in return, luckily, you were able to be there when he scored his next two podiums, and he couldn't help but look for you in the crowd, locking eyes with you and pointing to his chest. therefore, claiming you as his good luck charm.

the feelings came in the blink of an eye. he became the only thing in your head, making you mess up lines, stay up way past your ideal bedtime. he couldn't seem to focus during his practice sessions, too lost in his thoughts. thinking about when you would follow the f1 circus next.

it had been almost two months without your cheerful presence in the paddock when you finally made your awaited return at the very last race of the season in abu dhabi.

you ran into each other at the hotel, and you couldn't help but run to his arms, holding him so impossibly close and saying how much you'd missed him. he grasped your waist and repeated your words back to you. that night you confessed your feelings for him, and you watched as his chest filled with happiness, telling you he felt the same as well. when he stepped onto the top spot on the podium that sunday, you felt a different kind of pride and excitement as you saw him lifting his trophy up. that was the night that you became an official secret.

when lockdown happened, you couldn't see each other for a few months, but miraculously, you'd managed to squeeze in a few days to travel to monaco and see him.

you waited for the elevator doors to open, it was nearing midnight and you hoped no one was there.

the hotel lobby was empty except for one person. not even the nice lady at the front desk was there. sitting on one of the perfectly chosen sofas, with his back towards you, there he was.

the ding of the elevator doors opening was enough to catch his attention. he turned, covering his head with the hood of the sweater he wore. he met you halfway, his arms immediately wrapping around you, yours on his back. you hid your face in his neck, inhaling his scent.

"tu m'as tellement manqué, mon amour," charles whispered, kissing your head. you lifted your face, a lazy smile on your lips.

"i missed you, too, champ." you kissed his chin. feeling your insides warming as his green orbs scanned your face. your recent change of hairstyle caught his attention.

"you've cut it," he said, running his fingers through your strands. you walked back to the elevator, nodding.

"it's for a role. apparently, miss poppy nightingale is really going through it," you said, pressing the button for the top floor. as soon as the doors were closed, he pushed you against the mirrored wall and grabbed your face, clashing your lips with his.

it had been too long since you'd felt his hands roaming your body, caressing spots only he knew, handling you the way only he could.

since then it became a game of midnight reunions at empty hotel lobbies, taking long flights just to see the other for a few hours. fake names at hotel check-ins, lame excuses to friends for skipping get-togethers and hidden jealousy whenever someone placed their eyes on either of you.

for the past two years in every single interview there was always the same question.

"are you and charles leclerc dating?"

you'd smile, laugh, shake your head and deny something other than a really nice friendship between you and the monegasque.

neither of you could prevent paparazzi from taking pictures of you whenever you hung out together, the question always lingered in the air, but you always managed to dodge it and change the subject to something else.

meanwhile, in the darkness of your room, your secret came to life. your relationship became something carnal, full of desire and love and longing.

it was nearing the beginning of pre-race testing for the upcoming 2021 season.

you sat on the comfortable cushions of the cockpit in charles' yacht with your legs up. the hardtop protecting you from the warm monaco sun. you scrolled aimlessly on your phone, double-tapping when you saw pictures or videos that made you smile. a clip of charles caught your attention. it was from one of his streams during winter break.

he was talking about some things he'd bought online, clothes, gaming stuff, and other random things that caught his attention. he forgot that in that order there was also a few articles of clothing you had bought, including a bright pink bralette that he tried his best to hide, but it was too late. he'd played along as if someone had messed up and added the item by mistake. the caption of the video said something along the lines of 'charles leclerc has a secret girlfriend.'

you smirked, that much was true.

you locked your phone, tossing it to one side as you heard charles' footsteps nearing.

"here you go, ma belle," he said handing you a refreshing glass of ice-cold lemonade, you smiled at the french pet name. after all this time, his mother tongue still affected you.

"thank you, beau," you said as he lifted your legs for an instant as he sat next to you, only to place them back down on his lap. his hand stayed on your thigh.

"i was on the phone with the team, i'm leaving for bahrain next week." he said, you nodded. thinking about the last few days you had with him. "i want you to come with me,"

"i'm always there," you said. which was true. no one in the scarlet team knew of your secret relationship with their driver, yet they still invited you to attend to as many events as you like.

"i mean, i want to walk to the paddock with you. i want to hold your hand and show everyone you're mine,"

you were not, at all, ashamed of your relationship with the green-eyed boy in front of you. in fact, he was one of the most important people in your life, and you only kept it a secret so the stupid tabloids could focus on your achievements as individuals, instead of '(y/n) (y/l/n)'s boyfriend or charles leclerc's girlfriend'.

you nodded, feeling your cheeks getting hot, not from the sun. but from how you felt inside.

"okay, let's do it." you barely finished speaking when his lips met yours in a fight for dominance. you let him have his way with you, knowing a reward was coming your way.

a few days later, as you waited for the private jet to take off, you scrolled through instagram, the same video from the other day popped up on your feed again.

you decided to comment under that video, sending the emoji of the two eyes. immediately, your phone was being flooded with tags and mentions.

@ user1: omg she knows @ user2: (y/n) tell us who it is! @ user 3: @ yourusername are you and charles dating?

you let the internet go up in flames, locking your phone and paying attention to the brunette in front of you.

"are you ready?" charles asked, gripping your hand. you sat in his ferrari, waiting to walk into the paddock. you'd done that walk countless times, but this time would be different.

"as i'll ever be. i love you," you brought his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles.

"je t'aime aussi," he said. you nodded, and he let go of your hand, stepping out of the car and walking to the passenger side where you sat. nerves and excitement swimming in your body. he opened your door and helped you out. his hand found yours instantly, like two magnets pulled together by an invisible force.

it was no surprise that you were walking the paddock, you were basically another member of the team. but heads turned as you walked with the beautiful monegasque beside you. you kept your head up, smiling when people said 'hi' to you two.

you were used to the cameras flashing and your name being called by hundreds of people at a time, and so was charles.

but this time was different, this time it was both your names being called, together. one after the other. his arm circled your back, the design of your dress was backless, his fingers curling around your waist as his thumb pressed into the skin of your back.

it was a beautiful evening in february, your high heels were pressing against the red carpet below you. you'd refused to do any interviews before the ceremony, therefore, you were of the last few people to walk the carpet of the 2022 academy awards. you were nominated for best leading actress, your best nomination to date. you made your way inside the theater, where the greatest of the film industry sat, waiting for the biggest night in film to start.

charles sat next to you, his hand never left yours as the night ticked by and awards were presented. nearing the end, anthony hopkins, the winner for last year's best actor award, walked onstage and your heart begun beating faster. this was it.

they called the names for all your fellow nominees, you clapped for each one of them, and charles applauded even louder when finally, your name and a small clip of your movie were named.

your hand flew to charles' again, as the envelope was opened and the actor onstage read the winner. he smiled, looking straight ahead.

"the oscar goes to... (y/n) (y/l/n),"

time stopped. people around you rose to their feet as you remained seated, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and opening them in the span of two seconds. charles grabbed both your hands and pulled you to your feet, he pressed you close to his body.

"you did it, ma belle. you did it!" he whispered before letting you go. you were beaming with excitement, you grabbed his face and kissed him quickly as someone ushered you onstage. charles held his arm to you as you walked the few steps to where the golden statue waited for you.

you hugged the legendary actor as he handed you your very first academy award. you looked ahead of you at the sea of people, the blinding lights preventing you from looking up, so you settled for looking at charles instead.

"wow, i- i don't know what to say. i-" you began, swallowing the knot forming in your throat. as you paused the applause of the crowd roared back to life. "i guess i should start by thanking my team. the people on set who made all of this possible. thank you to the academy for this incredible night and unforgettable moment." you paused, looking at the award in your grasp. "thank you to charles, my fiance, he- he was with me the day i got the call. i thought i'd completely blown it at the audition and he jumped on a plane and flew to new york just so he could be with me that day. thank you for never giving up on me, for never letting me give up on my dreams even when i so desperately felt the need to." you felt your eyes tearing up, as charles stood with his palms together over his lips, and with all the lights you could see he was on the verge of tears as well.

"this is a night that i'll never forget, and i've loved spending every second of it with you. thank you for everything you've done for me. thank you to every one at home, those who supported this film. thank you for tonight, a night i will never forget."

you thought back to that night in february as you stood with the rest of the ferrari team, watching as charles made his way on to the top spot on the podium. the podium which now gave him his first world championship title.

as the national anthems played, charles' eyes met yours, he winked and placed a hand on his heart, then pointed at you with his finger. you smiled, with your palms pressed together over your lips, the same position he was in just months ago as you achieved the biggest goal in your career. it seemed that history was repeating itself, but the roles were reversed as it was now your turn to stare in awe at the man who stole your heart completely, achieving the biggest goal in his career.

there was no doubt in your minds that you two were meant to be. your lives circled around each other, you took turns in the spotlight as your professional lives progressed, you'd accomplished so much together. you felt ready for whatever curveball life threw your way, because you wouldn't face it alone. he had you and you had him, and you didn't need anything else.

[sl-ut]

brutal

CHAPTER FOUR

pairing: glenn rhee x reader, oc!alexander x reader (siblings), various x reader

description: jim can't stop digging, and he can't remember why until it's too late

warnings: graphic violence, death, swearing

words: 2.5K

date posted: 28/02/22

previous part | next part

Beyond the treeline, the group came upon Jim as he drove a spade into the dirt of the open field repeatedly, creating deep holes in the earth. Y/n watched him with furrowed brows as he ignored Shane's pleading for him to stop, or at the very least, take a break from his position in the direct sunlight. Next to her, Amy clutched at her arm as she watched the man work himself into a heavy sweat.

"Just give me a second here, please."

"What do you want?" Jim finally paused his labour, breathing heavily as he held eye contact with the Deputy in front of him.

"We're just concerned, that's all."

"Dale says you've been out here for hours." Morales called out from behind Shane.

"So?"

"So why are you digging? You headed to China, Jim?"

Under normal circumstances, Y/n may have snorted at the comment, though she had found herself becoming less susceptible to the effects of humour. She couldn't exactly decipher if it was due to the situation in general, or perhaps it was due to worry for her brother as he went off in search of Merle Dixon.

"What does it matter? I'm not hurting anyone."

"Yeah, except maybe yourself. It's a hundred degrees out here, you can't keep this up."

"Sure I can. Watch me."

"Jim, they're not gonna say it so I will. You're scaring people. You're scaring my son and Carol's daughter." Lori stepped forward.

"They got nothing to be scared of. I mean, what the hell, people? I'm out here by myself. Why don't you all just go and leave me the hell alone?"

"We think that you need to take a break, okay? Why don't you go and get yourself in the shade? Some food maybe. I'll tell you what... maybe in a little bit I'll come out here and help you myself. Jim, just tell me what it's about. Why don't you just go ahead and give me that shovel?" Shane negotiated.

"Or what?" Jim challenged.

"There is no 'or what'. I'm asking you. I'm coming to you and I'm asking you, please. I don't wanna have to take it from you."

"And if I don't, then what? Then you're gonna beat my face in like Ed Peletier, aren't you? Y'all seen his face, huh? What's left of it. See, now that's what happens when someone crosses you."

Carol visibly stiffened from her place next to Y/n. The teenager placed a meek hand on the woman's arm in comfort as she hugged her daughter to her chest.

"You weren't there," Amy defended Shane, "Ed was out of control, he was hurting his wife."

"That is their marriage," He roared, rage flooding his veins, "Not his, he is not judge and jury. Who voted you king boss, huh?"

"Jim, just give me the shovel. I'm not here to argue with you."

In a scuffle, Shane snatched the shovel and began to wrestle it from the man. Once it was out of Jim's grasp, Shane tossed it to the ground and forced Jim into the dirt, confining his movements.

"You got no right!" Jim chanted like a prayer, though he was visibly relaxing in Shane's grip, losing his fight by the second.

"Jim, Jim," Shane soothed, "Nobody's gonna hurt you. You hear me?"

Jim sobbed loudly at Shane's words, "That's a lie. That's the biggest lie there is. I told that to my wife and my two boys. I said it 100 times. It didn't matter. They came out of nowhere. There were dozens of 'em. Just pulled 'em right out of my hands.

Y/n closed her eyes at his choked words, reminded of the fact that others had not come out of the apocalypse quite as fortunate as her. Sure, her mom was in a different country, but there still stood a chance that she was still alive, and she had her brother to protect her in a world where she had no idea how to protect herself.

"You know, the only reason I got away was 'cause the dead were too busy eating my family."

***

The search and rescue party had been gone longer than anticipated. After dealing with Jim’s intense side effects of sunstroke, the camp had gone back to a relative sense of normal. Or as normal as they could be while they anxiously awaited the return of their fellow survivors. The longer they waited, the more unsettled that Y/n was rapidly becoming.

The day had come to a close, and the group was left to prepare themselves for nighttime. The bass that Andrea and Amy had managed to catch was roasted over the fire and served with a side of mushrooms. Y/n’s plate was empty within minutes of it being filled. It had been the biggest meal she had eaten in days, not to mention the tastiest. She had never been a very big fan of fish nor mushrooms, in fact they would never normally be a part of her diet, but she would consider anything to be better than a lukewarm can of kidney beans. She smirked, picturing how annoyed Alex would be that he was missing such a treat.

Despite the few who were missing and the drama that had ensued over the past two days, the remainder of the group seemed to be in fairly good morale. They swapped stories and jokes over the fire, retelling their lives before they had all come together under these… unprecedented circumstances. Y/n watched on quietly, occasionally laughing along when someone made a particularly funny comment.

“I’ve got to ask you something, man,” Morales chuckled, “It’s been driving me crazy.”

“What?” Dale tilted his head.

“That watch.”

“What’s wrong with my watch?”

“I see you every day, the same time, winding that thing like a village priest saying mass.”

“I’ve wondered this myself.” Jacqui mused.

“I’m missing the point.”

“Unless I’ve misread the signs, the world seems to have come to an end. Or at least hit a speed bump for a good, long while.” Jacqui explained.

“But there’s you, everyday, winding that stupid watch.” Morales finished.

“Time… it's important to keep track, isn't it? The days at least. Don't you think, Andrea? Back me up here.” Dale glanced at the blonde woman, who only shrugged to prompt him to continue, “I like… I like what, um, a father said to son when he gave him a watch that had been handed down through generations. He said, ‘I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire, which will fit your individual needs no better than it did mine or my father's before me; I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you may forget it for a moment now and then and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it’.”

Y/n shared a look with Amy across the fire as silence overcame the congregation that had gathered around the bonfire, only broken by the crackling of the logs and Amy as she scoffed a laugh.

“You are so weird.”

The others broke into laughter, each sending a comforting smile Dale’s way as he leaned further into his lawn chair and threw his hands up in surrender. If it weren’t for the small smile that grew on his own face, Y/n may have mistaken his reaction for blatant annoyance, but Dale had certainly taken quite a liking to the Harrison sisters.

“Hey, where are you going?” Andrea turned to catch her younger sister as she stood and moved towards the RV.

Amy glared down at her with wide eyes, “I have to pee. Geez, you try to be discreet around here.”

“Oh,” Y/n set her plate on the ground in front of the firepit as she stood from her own seat, “I have to go too.”

Amy nodded, slowing her pace to wait for the younger girl to catch up. She glanced over her shoulder as they approached the camper, bumping her shoulder into Y/n’s with a smirk as they grew further away.

“So?”

Y/n furrowed her brows, “So, what?”

Amy groaned as she held the door open for Y/n, “So, how’s Glenn?”

Y/n sighed, “Do you ever get tired of talking about that?”

“Hmm, no, not really.” Amy shrugged, “Hey, the world ended. I’ll take whatever kind of drama I can get.”

“I wouldn’t call it drama.”

“So there is an ‘it’.” Amy pressed. “I knew it. You were both acting weird this morning before he left. So are you going to tell me, or do I have to torture it out of you?”

Y/n snorted, pulling out her best Russian accent, “I’ll never talk.”

Amy giggled, pushing Y/n’s shoulder as she sat at the table, motioning for Y/n to use the bathroom first, though she did not relent on the interrogation now that Y/n could not escape her questions. Y/n cursed herself for allowing Amy to trap her in the small bathroom.

“Did he profess his love for you?”

“No.”

“Did you profess your love for him?”

“I don’t love him, Amy.”

“Did you hook up?”

“Amy.”

“Sorry, sorry,” She laughed, feigning innocence, “So you just made out, then?”

Y/n’s lips parted, silent for only a moment before Amy’s shriek broke through the door.

“Oh my God, you made out with Glenn?”

Y/n forced the door open, an icy glare in her eyes as she stalked towards the older girl, “No, I did not make out with Glenn. We just, you know, kissed.”

Amy grinned widely at her, “I knew you two would get together. In a world of zombies, you two are definitely endgame. This is all just like a movie or something.”

The teenager shrugged, hugging herself tightly, “Amy, it was just a kiss. And I’m not even sure if I liked it that much, you know? I mean, he’s the only guy close to my age around here, what if I’m only feeling this way because he’s just there?”

“I mean, it’s definitely possible,” Amy pursed her lips, “Or, maybe you should just go for it? Realistically, we could all be dead by morning, so what’s the point in just beating around the bush?”

Amy stood to strut past Y/n, but halted in the doorway of the bathroom before turning back with a wild fury in her eyes, “You used all of the toilet paper?”

Y/n laughed as she shrugged, amazed at how quickly her emotions had shifted, “There was only one piece left!”

Amy scoffed as she moved to the door of the RV, “Yeah, real nice. I play therapist and you can’t even repay me by leaving the last bit of toilet paper for me?” She pushed the door open, calling to the others at the campfire, “We’re out of toilet paper?”

Y/n watched in slow motion at a dark claw grasped at Amy’s arm, a look of surprise crossing her features before a scream of terror ripped through her as the walker sunk it’s teeth into her arm.

Those who were still sitting at the campfire leapt into action, children being guarded by their parents as the few who were armed began taking out the walkers as they approached, but like a hydra, two more took the place of each fallen geek.

For a moment, Y/n considered closing the door of the RV. She was unfit to defend herself, let alone anyone else, and would be completely protected from the walkers. Then, she thought of the others, how they would be killed, and that if she had secluded herself, she would still die in a matter of days from hunger. Instead, she snatched the largest screwdriver from Dale’s toolbox and lunged forward, plunging it through the temple of the zombie that had continued attacking Amy with a loud cry, though she was unable to protect her from the second walker that snuck up behind her before it took a large chunk out of her neck.

Andrea was at her sister’s side in a moment, killing the walker and helping her to lay in the dirt as she sobbed, screaming for her sister to get up and keep going.

She had managed to take out another handful of walking corpses before her choice of weapon finally failed her. The tool became caught in the skull of one walker, leaving her defenceless against the others who were quickly advancing on her. Y/n tugged on the handle of the screwdriver with the entirety of her strength, closing her eyes as she began to accept her fate; The sinking of their rotting teeth into her flesh, the roughness of their decaying skin scratching against her own as they clawed her apart. But it never came.

One by one, the walkers who had surrounded her began dropping to the earth, round bullet holes marking their foreheads as black blood and chunks of brain and flesh began splattering onto her face. Glancing up, her eyes met those of Glenn, who ran to her side as soon as the dead assailants had fallen.

“Are you okay?” He asked, “You’re not bit?”

She stared down at the corpses at her feet before looking back up at him with red-rimmed eyes, voice caught in her throat, “No, I don’t think so.”

Y/n peeked over to where Andrea continued to kneel over her sister’s body, wailing as the final few walkers were killed. She whimpered as she eyed the large puddle of blood that had formed on the ground around her body. Glenn gulped as he followed her line of vision, quickly pulling her into his embrace to protect her from looking at it any longer.

“Amy,” She whispered quietly, tears beginning to dribble down her cheeks to stain his t-shirt as sobs began to wrack her body.

“I know,” His voice cracked as he cradled the back of her neck gently, pressing her face into his shoulder.

“Y/n!” Alex sprinted towards the pair, tearing his sister away from Glenn and into his own hold. “Oh my God, you’re okay.”

Y/n leaned further into her brother’s chest, muffling her increasingly loud sobs. In the mess of events that had occured in the past few minutes, her concern about the wellbeing of her brother had all but left her mind, which only upset her even further.

The safety that they had created for themselves had collapsed. Their camp was no longer safe, and over half of those who had once been survivors had been killed. Unsure of how to go on from there, the remainder of the campers wept quietly as they listened to the eerie, harrowing wails of Andrea Harrison.

[sylverstorms]

Mother Miranda x Lawyer!Oc ----Tilted Scales

Hello guys :) This is another commission I wrote for the amazing, wonderful @saltwatereulogies

Your support has been insane, I can't thank you enough. Hope you enjoy the story ❣

Three days.

That is how long you've been in the village, after years of studying abroad, before everything turns to shit.

As you slowly blink focus back into your eyes, you try to clear the haze from your mind. It feels as though you've collided with a truck. Your body hurts, your wrists protest in their iron cuffs, stuck to the wall as they are, having supported your weight while you were unconscious.

Desperately, you try to recollect the events that led you here...

A grey sky. A bleak day. One moment you were making coffee for your mother, excited to be able to sit down with her in the mornings again... and the next you heard the echo of screams.

Overcome by adrenaline, you bolted out of your house, only to witness a scene straight from a nightmare; humanoid monsters ripping villagers apart, cries and blood and animalistic growls all blending together into one mad mix.

And before you could even warn your mother...

Damn it all, what the fuck happened!

You suddenly struggle against your bonds, hard enough to rattle your whole frame. Your wrists burn from the grind against metal, but you don't care–

“Stop that. It is pointless and you will only injure yourself.” A cold voice, strangely familiar, says from far to your right.

You peer deep into the shadows, searching for the only other person in the empty room... until you see her. A mask advances on you, gold and shaped like a crow's visage, then wings folded into a cloak come into view.

You would be a fool to not recognize her. The local saint. The village's prophet. The very 'saint' your mother prayed to, for your safe return, all these years. Mother Miranda.

The sound of her heels bounces off the walls until she comes to stand directly in front of you. Looking past the openings of her mask now, you realize....

This isn't possible.

She hasn't aged a day. Not a single day, since you left the village. The years should show around her deadly blue eyes, somewhere, and yet they don't.

“I see you remember me...” she says, while you're still trying to find your voice. “Miss Warren.”

“What is going on? Mother Miranda, what happened to the village?!” you demand.

Her expression shows nothing. “The village is in need of... renovation.” she speaks, even, regal. “Repopulation, even.”

You stare at her with wide eyes.

“Now, don't give me that look. You would not be here if you weren't of the ones I chose to keep.” she continues. “You see, from now on, every single person in my domain will make themselves useful in some way, or they will be replaced. And you... you have been abroad studying law for a while now, yes?”

“I... yes.” you reply, still not fully having wrapped your mind around your situation.

“Excellent. What I need from you is simple. You will make the village independent from the state’s taxes as a religious organization... and you will keep foreign investors out from that point onward.”

What... what part of that is simple?!

“Do that for me and in return I guarantee your mother and you will go back to your house safe and sound. You will have no shortage of Lei for as long as you live, Miss Warren.” Miranda promises.

But it is not the sweet part of the deal your mind stays glued to. “And if...” you gulp. “If I can't work around the law to do that...?”

Miranda blinks slowly at you, like you shouldn't even ask such a basic question. Like the answer is obvious.

“Well. Then I have no further use for either of you.”

It is in this moment that it dawns on you.

This woman is no angel and no saint.

She is a devil.

-

-

You spend countless sleepless nights pouring over every single paragraph, every little opening or ambiguity in the law you can use to free the village of taxes.

To keep your mother in the dark about this, you work in the office Mother Miranda has provided for you, in her very stronghold.

Although technically it's her home, you don't see her nearly as much as you initially thought. She is gone throughout the day and returns late at night, not even sparing you a glance before heading for her chambers, at the upper sections of the building.

The days she does come into your office to inquire on your progress are few and far-between, your conversations always short and cold.

This evening is different.

“How is your work coming along, Miss Warren?” the prophetess asks with her aggravatingly nice accent, seating herself like a queen on the chair in front of your desk.

Your eyes are tired, but you force them on hers, through the mask obscuring her face. “I think I've got it. I'll be sending the necessary papers tomorrow and the answer shouldn't take longer than a month.”

“Very good.” she nods, a miniscule curve to her lips.

Icy eyes then drop to the wine in the whiskey glass at the corner of the desk. You think she will make a comment about drinking at work, but instead she says;

“Pour me a glass, will you?”

You will your hands steady as you comply, then carefully slide her drink over.

Miranda takes her mask with claw-shrouded fingers... and soundnessly sets it on the wooden surface. Then she pushes the veil at her hair back, shaking long, platinum locks free.

You do a double take you hope she doesn't notice. Because what the actual fuck.

You didn't think her hair was that long, or that straight, or that it would fall over her shoulders like she's staring in a shampoo ad. You didn't think her lips were shaped like a cupid's bow or that her skin was this flawless and radiant.

The helplessly lesbian part of you could begrudgingly admit she was beautiful before... but now you arrive to the painful realization she's drop-dead gorgeous.

“So. I've heard you won cases others would describe as impossible.” she begins.

“Nothing's impossible. You just need to know where to look.” you reply. Law is your comfort zone and she is not that far above you here. “But how do you know that?”

“I have my sources.”

"Nobody truly leaves this village, huh.”

“Not without my consent, no. But I knew you'd come back.” At your slight frown, she elaborates, “You would never leave your mother behind.”

She's right. There was a whole world of opportunities waiting for you out there and yet... here you are.

“Good work, so far. You can take the next two days off. Your eyes could use the rest, Miss Warren.” Miranda speaks, finishing her wine.

“Sarah.” you say. 'Miss Warren' is for clients and she is your boss.

Miranda's lips give a slight quirk that may or may not be a trick of the light.

“I know.” she replies and exits the room, long hair billowing behind her back.

-

-

The taxes were only the first challenge. Now that the village is free of them, investors are flying in circles around it like vultures over meat.

In the meantime, Miranda comes to talk to you more frequently.

Lately, it seems she has more free time. You wish that was a good thing, but...

“So... are you like... going to stay here?” You ask after reading the same sentence five times to make sense of it, because her gaze on you is distracting as fuck.

“I'm not getting in the way of your work.” she says. You want to argue she is, but can't quite do that in a way that won't get you killed.

“I'm simply not used to working with company. Isn't this boring for you?”

“No, actually. I find it interesting, even though science is my field of expertise.” she answers. “And the way you take notes is… amusing.”

You try not to blush as you look down at your notebook, filled with different colored markers and post-it squares with tiny stick figures pointing to the more important paragraphs. You have been doing this for so long to sort out information you didn't even realize you were keeping it up in her presence.

“What is this supposed to be?” she asks with a small smile, the first of its kind you've seen.

To your horror, her clawed pointer aims at a particularly silly doodle, barely the size of a pencil's eraser.

“A... bird.” you grimace like you've been stabbed.

“Ah, of course.” Miranda holds back a chuckle but you can tell she's dying to make a comment.

Studying becomes hell for the rest of the time she's there with you, those sharp eyes picking apart every little move you make. At the same time, though, the hours you spend with her make you realize...

She's not a saint, though she may look like one. She's not completely a devil, either, even if she may act as one, at times.

She's human.

-

-

Miranda shares nothing about herself when you chat, but she seems to like it when you speak about your time abroad and all the things that left an impression on you there.

Your conversation over wine is cut short, however, when you receive a call from a number you learned means nothing but trouble, lately.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” you tell her.

The one calling you is none other than this month's rival lawyer, trying to dispute your claim over the land for his own boss. He's lost to you before, so it's also personal, but you are confident you have cornered them good with the latest papers you sent them...

And you are proven correct, when, a few seconds later, he is all faux polite on the other line, resorting to offering you money for you to withdraw your arguments.

Miranda comes to stand next to you, listening in to what he's saying.

The problem with that is, the second her arm brushes yours and you catch a whiff of her perfume –which always lingers in your office long after she's left— youare the one who stops listening to him.

Your attention flies to other things, like the inches she has on you, the exact color of her pale blonde hair, the little glint of victory in her stunning eyes.

Oh, no. God, no...

You know what this is, the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Alarm bells go off in the back of your head, as though your own mind is telling your body how foolish it's being.

There isn't a worse thing you can do to yourself than be attracted to Miranda.

-

-

Over time, familiarity with the prophetess brings higher levels of difficulty into your 'try to ignore your crush on her' game.

Miranda joins your side and leans over your shoulder, sometimes, to peer down at what you're doing. You don't move and don't breathe until she's within a safe distance again.

Then there are the wayward 'reward' touches, when you turn another investor away from the village. She may pat your back or leave her hand on your shoulder, or even scratch your nape with her claws as a job well done.

You hope your poker face hides the fact you feel her touch on you for far longer than you should, after she's gone.

Tonight, the situation is the toughest it's ever been for you.

There is a rainstorm going on outside; the waterdrops are tapping against the windows of your office as though they're trying to break it. Miranda has pulled her chair next to you so you can talk easier, without having to shout over the cacophony.

“And basically the judge's decision was that—”

You are interrupted by a blinding flash of lighting, during which your mind lets you know the stronghold is easily the tallest structure in it's vicinity—

When thunder cracks down the sky and strikes the building, you nearly scream. Your body tenses and you jump; but Miranda's hands come to your biceps and hold you steady, against herself and your desk.

Another flash comes before you really have time to think about your proximity. She covers your ears with her palms before the thunderclap can send you into overdrive again.

“You are with me and you're scared of a little thunder?” she teases when things quiet down and your heartbeat eases.

It's true; Miranda is the more terrifying force of nature. At the same time, however...

You feel oddly safe to be this close to her.

“Well... I'm not scared right now...” you quietly admit.

Her pointer comes underneath your chin and lifts it so you are looking straight into her hypnotic blue eyes. How is this color even real...

“And why is that?” Miranda asks, her wings coming around you both. They're curtains of black, cutting out some of the storm's sounds.

You want nothing more in this moment than to run your fingers through each individual feather.

You lick your lips. That's...not a question you can answer if you want the balance in your arrangement with her to remain.

Perhaps, though, the scales have tilted for you long ago. You just haven't been brave enough to admit it.

You have the courage to face it now when she leans down and covers your lips with hers, warm in a manner you never imagined she could be.

Her wings pull tighter around you and your mouths slide more firmly together. Lipbalm and creamy lipstick mix, tongues brush, tasting of wine. You are shaking so bad on the inside from how much you want this, more of this, the rumbling of the thunder be damned.

Miranda's palm cups your flaming cheek when she pulls back, perfectly composed and staring at you with a little smirk in place.

You dare to turn a little, lay a tiny kiss on the inside of her wrist, beyond her rings and accessories.

You aren't very fond of storms, but...

You willingly walk right into the eye of this one.

[batgurl1989]

How to Make an Announcement

Summary: Henry takes you to the market on your first public outing together as a couple.

Word Count: 1700

Warnings: none

A/N: This was a super vivid dream I had last night, and I couldn't resist sharing it. It has not been proofread, so all the mistakes are my own. If you want to be added to my taglist, let me know. I am also open to requests.

Taglist: @rmtndew @henrynerdfan @cynic-spirit @princesssterek @daddys-littlewhitegirl @diegos-butt

I gripped his hand tightly in my lap as we drove toward the open air market. Nerves were sending jittery butterflies into flight. His thumb traced soothing patterns on the back of my hand, but they did little to calm my thoughts. I felt like I was going to be sick, but knew it was all in my head. How had I let him talk me into this?

Oh right! Because it was Henry, and I was following his lead when it came to our relationship.

The pandemic had made dating easier. We had holed up in his house when the Witcher filming had shut down. It was easy to forget he was ridiculously famous, and I was basically a nobody when we were alone together with Kal in the house. But the lockdown had been lifted, and Henry decided it was time to venture out. Perhaps let the world in on our relationship status. Up until today, Henry had maintained that he was single. 

I wasn't anxious in the beginning to let the world know that I was with Henry. Sure my family knew, but they had kept it to themselves. It was hard to keep hiding the fact that I was dating Henry when I had been living with the guy for months. Mom was just happy I was happy, and I really was. Logically I knew when we became exclusive and then officially dating, that eventually, if I wanted to stay with Henry, his fans would learn about us. But that was the thing about the lockdown, there was no rush to announce it. No pressure from reporters on red carpets or in interviews. 

But today Henry woke up and decided it was time. Of course, if I truly didn't want to, he wasn't going to push me into this outing. But how could I say no to those blue eyes and charming smile that I had come to love so much? 

That didn't stop the worry from building up inside me, though. No matter how much I tried to fool myself, and how much I knew in my mind that this was for the best, my stomach had other plans. 

"You still okay, love?" Henry asked me, his gaze flashing over to me before turning back to the road. I plastered a smile on my face, trying to convince myself as much as him that I was fine. But the grip I had on his hand was giving me away. "I can turn around if you really don't want to do this."

"It's not that I don't want to." I nibbled on my lower lip. I had been trying to come up with the right words to explain my feelings, but so far hadn't. Taking a deep breath, I decided to just wing it. "Do you remember when you weren't famous? How it felt? The anonymity of it? That's what I have right now. And it's comfortable. However, since I want to be with you, I know I have to lose some of that. It's just hard to take the first step out of my comfort zone." 

Henry was quiet for a long moment after, though in reality it was probably less than a minute. I bit my lip harder, feeling the first bubbles of a freak out churning inside me as I watched him make his decision. 

"I want to go to the market with you." I blurted out before he could say anything. I gripped his hand harder if it was possible, worried that he would pull away from me. In my mind, I knew he wouldn't. Henry had always been hyper considerate; always a gentleman. He didn't want to rush me into anything I didn't want to do, but this was something I did want to do. "I promise, this is what I want."

"If you change your mind..." Henry let the rest of his sentence hang as he continued to drive us toward the market. I knew what he meant; one word from me, and we were out of there. 

When we pulled into the dirt parking lot of the open air market, Henry tugged a baseball cap on, covering what I lovingly called his pandemic curls. I didn't need a hat to help disguise me. No one here knew who I was, but I wondered how long that would last for. Henry opened the car door for me, offering me his hand. My grip on it was significantly looser than it had been on the drive. We were doing this, and it was going to be fine. Smiling up at him, we slipped our masks on and walked over to the bustling market.

The lockdown had been lifted, but there were still plenty of policies in place about social distancing and wearing a mask. Everyone at the market was abiding by these, so the stress of being in public was less than what it would have been in a grocery store. Vendors were all wearing gloves and masks, and no one was handling food they didn't intend to buy. I felt myself relax, and begin to actually enjoy being out of the house for the first time since the pandemic began. 

Between the mask and the hat, not many people recognized Henry. And the ones that thought he looked familiar didn't say anything. It was hard to tell for sure that it was him. Sure he had been posting to Instagram while wearing a mask, but the hat seemed to throw people off. We went up to several vendors, buying fresh veggies and bread for the house. No one seemed to realize who they were selling their goods to. 

I watched Henry in awe. He seemed to be enjoying his rare moment of anonymity along with me. He probably didn't get many opportunities like this anymore. Between being Superman, Sherlock, and now Geralt, he touched on so many different fandoms that it was hard to find someone who didn't know him. I hadn't been with him out in public before, so I never realized how differently he cared himself when he knew the world was watching. Of course, he was still ridiculously polite and considerate. It wasn't so much how he acted or what he said that changed. I couldn't quite put my finger on what was different, but there was something. 

He caught me staring at him, a smile twinkling in his eyes. Wrapping his free arm around me, he guided me toward the edge of the market, where there was less of a crowd. He pulled out his phone, and opened the camera to selfie mode. 

"Are you ready?" Henry asked, as he held the phone away from us, angling it so that we were both in the frame. 

"Definitely." And I wasn't lying. I finally felt ready to take this next step. I looked up at him, so he could see how serious I was. His hand on my hip squeezed, pulling me closer. I knew if it wasn't for the masks, he would have kissed me. 

He popped his hat off, his curls a wild mess in the breeze. I laughed, and that was when he decided to take the picture. I caught a glimpse of it as he pulled his phone toward himself to get a look at the picture. We both looked happy even with our masks on. My eyes were crinkled and you could tell I was laughing. 

"That one is a keeper." Henry tilted the phone so I could see it better. It hit me in that moment. I was dating Henry Cavill, and with a push of a few buttons, the world would know too. And I wasn't scared. I was happy our secret would be out. He typed up a caption, and tagged the market to drum up some business for them, before tucking his phone back in his pocket. "Ready to head home?" 

"Only if you are? Did we get everything we needed?" I didn't want to rush us, and I was enjoying being out with him perhaps a little too much. 

"We can keep looking." Though he said we could stay, he took us back to the car. Popping the trunk, we unloaded our arms of the food we had already bought. I turned to head back to the market, "But first."

He pulled me to him with one arm, while he pulled my mask down. He pulled his mask down, kissing me deeply. His tongue explored my mouth as I melted against him. It suddenly didn't matter that we were in public, putting our relationship on display. When Henry kissed me like that, the world faded away, and I knew only him. My favourite book series popped into my head whenever this happened. One day you may kiss a man you can't breathe without, and find breath is of little consequence. Henry Cavill may just very well be my Barrons. 

He finished the thorough kiss with a few quick pecks before he pulled away. He slipped his mask back up over his mouth and nose as I did the same. Turning we went to go back to the market. I spied a few people near their cars, mouths wide open staring at us. They knew who he was. Henry hadn't put his hat back on, in fact I think he left it in the car. And he had just had his mask pulled down. 

"Busted." I giggled quietly, nodding subtly to the people who were still staring. Henry laughed, pulling me tight to his side as we continued into the market for a second round.

By the time we got home, his Instagram was blowing up with questions about my identity, and what kind of relationship we had. Were we just friends? Did I work with him? Henry and I cuddled up on the couch with Kal to flick through some of the comments. Henry had learned not to read them all in one go as he had many followers. But as he scrolled through, I noticed one person saying they saw us kissing in the parking lot. I guess his fans knew now what I was to Henry. 

He loves me.  

[softhxtch]

TITTLE: Just Be Here

SUMMARY: Reader just finished a case and her husband, Aaron Hotchner is always there to support her. 

PAIRING: female! reader x Aaron Hotchner

CHARACTERS: reader, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss and David Rossi (literally for a second), Allison (OC)

WARNINGS: child assault and abuse; mentions of misscariage, alcohol usage, body fluids (blood, urine, vomit), pornography.

WORD COUNT: 3,5K

A/N: am i back? i don’t know hahah, but it’s something, right? again in this story Jack doesn’t really exist, sorry. and again CAC - Crimes Against Children.

'Hey, sweetie. You're safe, okay? Nobody's gonna hurt you anymore.', you whispered taking little girl into your arms. She was sobbing quietly with tears falling down her pink cheeks. She was no more than three years old, still in her purple pajamas, that were dirty form all the body fluids person can imagine and also dirty room she was held in. 'You're safe, Allison. You're safe.', you kept repeating and little girl just held her hands around you even tighter.

You looked around the room and the whole sight was just horrible. No windows, barely any lights, cages, blood and urine all over the floor. Just an awful place to be in let alone to live for months. Even the smallest thought of what was going on before the whole team came in gave you shivers and blood started to boil inside you. The place was there for years at that point and no one knew about it. You were just looking at your teammates, taking the rest of the kids out of the building. Some were crying, some were screaming and some were just clinging to the agents hoping that they would never comeback. And they never will. You would make sure of that.

' Allison, we have to go.', you said quietly, trying not to scare her. But little girl just shook her head and tightened her arms around your neck. 'We have to go. You need to see a doctor. It's scary, I know, but I'm gonna be with you all the time, okay?'

It wasn't easy to convince Allison to come out of the building, but after some negotiations and conversations with you she agreed. You're holding her in your arms as close as possible, trying to avoid the blue and red lights that were blinding both of you in the dark night.

Hospitals were always the last place that you're wanted to be. If you were the it only meant that either someone from your team or family was injured or one of the victims from your case were in tragic condition.

To put it straight, hospitals were never a good sign.

But you couldn't go home, not just yet. You promised Allison, that you would be with her this whole time, so you were also there when she got a check up from the pediatrician. You were holding her hand, caressing the back of it from time to time just to reassure her that you're there. Sometimes your would just add how great she was doing and how strong it is.

'Home.', Allison whined as doctor was checking on one of her bruised legs. Few tears fell down her cheeks, which made your hear break. It was horrible to seeing anyone in that position, but especially a child.

'You're doing great, Allison. Just few more minutes, okay?', you said quietly, taking hair out of her forehead.

'I just need to check the other leg and then you can have a long nap, till morning. How does that sound?', doctor asked and written down something on her notepad.

'I think it's great! Do you, Sonnie?', you said with a happy voice, looking at a little girl. She just nodded, still pouting from her cry few seconds ago. 'I'll be right back.', you said when you heard familiar phone ring. Doctor nodded understanding, but Allison held your hand not wanting to let you go. ' Allison, I'll be back in few minutes. I just need to answer that call, okay? You will be able to see me through the glass. I'm not going anywhere and until then you'll stay with Doctor Ashley.', you explained.

She wasn't convinced at all. It took you few more minutes for to actually let go of your hand. You explained everything a least three times. Doctor eyed you few times, but you just tried to ignore her. After years of working with children you knew how long it sometimes takes to convince them. Especially the ones that have been seriously hurt. They just wanted someone to be with them through the whole process and you understood it one hundred percent.

You sent Allison a small smile, saying one more time, that you'll be back in few minutes. After that you left the room and took out phone, dialing number that called you before.

'Hi.', you heard deep, yet soft voice on the other side. You sighed and replied with the same thing. 'Long night?'

'Yeah and I can't even see the end of it.', you answered and heard your husband's laugh. 'It wasn't a joke.', you added, rolling your eyes.

'I know. But it's kind of ironic considering that the sun will be up in less than an hour.', Aaron said. You could hear him moving around the house. Walking from bathroom to bedroom, probably getting ready for work. 'How are the kids?'

'Fine, if you could say it after living in a basement for most of your life and posing for creepy middle aged men.', you answered, feeling the shivers on your arms. The images that you saw literally just came back. And you can expect they will be coming back more often, but this time in your nightmares.

'All alive?', Aaron asked. You could hear him doing something in the kitchen, which made you smile, still looking at Allison. You actually would do everything to be right now with him in that kitchen. Waiting for his famous muffins with bacon and eggs, like he would do whenever both of you had day off.

'Yes, all eight of them.', you nodded. 'You're heading to work now? It's a bit early, even for you.'

'Not yet.', he answered quickly. You could hear another chews from the other side, which actually made your stomach going louder. 'But yesterday I picked up from the post office that coffee table, that you ordered and I thought I would put it together.'

'You're gonna put a coffee table together? At-', you asked surprised, looking at the watch on your phone. '-4:38 in the morning? Are you okay?', you added with a laugh.

'What can I say? I'm just bored without you.', he answered. Right after that you heard a loud noise from the other side and a quiet curse from Aaron.

'You're okay?', you asked, furrowing you brows.

'Yes. I'm looking for the box with all the tools.', he replied. 'I think I'll ask Morgan about them. He'll know what I should use.'

'How about you leave it to me, huh? I'll do it, because we don't want another trip to ER. It'll be third time this year, they'll assume that I'm assaulting you.', you laughed, hearing just quick 'hey!' from your husband.

For the first time in hours you actually felt nice. You didn't had constant fear in your head about the case. You weren't even thinking about it, right now what you were thinking about was Aaron and that stupid coffee table. And he knew about it, that was the reason why he called. After you were in a car with Allison and two policemen, you texted him that the case was over and you're headed to the hospital with victims. Both of you always do it, just to reassure each other that the other person is fine. Aaron on top of that would always call you. He's a very light sleeper, even waking up when you stir in bed sometimes, so every vibrations of his phone wakes him up. No matter what the time is on the clock, he always calls you. He knows how much you love your job and how saving kids was your thing. You loved it, after few years in narcotics unit you know you found your place. But Aaron also knew that you get very into the cases and you involve yourself a lot and if the case goes wrong you blame yourself really hard. Especially being a unit chief, just like him. So he always tried to light the mood even just a little and talk about the day, whatever comes to his mind.

'You're staying in the hospital, right?', it almost wasn't a question. It wasn't anything new to be honest. A lot of the times you would comeback to the hospital with the victims and especially with this case. He knew it wouldn't be different. You were working on it for over a month and it was draining you.

'Don't think I have a choice.', you admitted, looking back at Allison who was also starring at you. The doctor stopped examination and was about to leave. 'One of the girls won't let me go.'

'Just be careful, okay? And take care. Don't forget to eat something.', he reminded, knowing the previous situations.

'I will.', you reassured him. 'I love you.'

'I love you too, sweetheart. Give me a call later in a day.', Aaron said and you agreed.

After you said your goodbyes, you put the phone in the pocket and went back to the room. Allison immediately opened her arms and you laughed coming closer.

'You're back!', she said loudly, which made you laugh even more. Doctor Ashley smiled at both of you and left the room.

'I said I will.', you reminded her, patting her head. You could clearly see the tiredness in her eyes and how hard she was trying not to fall asleep. 'I think it's good time for a sleep.', you proposed, but Jade just shook her head immediately, taking back. ' Allison, you need to sleep.'

'Not sleepy.', she answered quietly, putting knees closer to her chest. 'Don't want to sleep.'

'You've been awake for a long time, Sonnie. You need to rest. I do too. Everyone needs to sleep so they will have energy for the next day.', you explained, but she once again shook her head. 'I'll be there the whole time. Nothing's gonna happen to you. You're safe.'

'Seven minutes?', she asked, trying to stop the yaw. You nodded and observed how she put her head on the pillow, drifting away from the real world.

Aaron Hotchner looked at his watch for the tenth time in the last 8 minutes. He signed and went back to signing papers in front him.

It was a slow day. Most paper work days were slow, but this one was even slower. He just couldn't focus. His thoughts were everywhere but in that office. He was thinking about his wife and what she's about to at that moment, probably still at hospital with the little girl. It was literally breaking his heart when he was thinking about your job and side effects, but also about your personal issues.

Being married for almost six years and together over eight, was something he was very proud of. He loved you with his whole heart and couldn't see anyone but you. The whole team always loved to see when a woman would flirt with Aaron, because it was always so funny to see him nicely declining the actions. Aaron Hotchner was a strong man with a very intimidating vibe, his voice could literally break you into a meltdown and get when a woman would approach him his eyes would always look for you. He just couldn't see his world existing without you.

With that being said he also knows you very well. Whenever something was wrong, he could feel it. Just from the look in your eyes or movement. You almost didn't have to talk to have a conversation. He understood you without any words and so did you.

After long nights when there were only you two together, Aaron knew what you wanted. Be knew all your dreams and wishes. Where you would like to go for vacations or favourite cuisine. Things that he could control. He also knew about your dream job and family wishes. Things he couldn't control and everytime Aaron would think about this, his heart would break into thousand pieces. Because if he could he would give you everything that you wanted and to do that he would sacrifice anything he could.

Quiet sound of a clock, that was announcing noon, got Aaron out of his thoughts. He looked at the clock just to assure himself of the hour and pressed his lips into thin line. Then he just closed the files on the rest, took coat and walked out of the room. Aaron walked to his friend's office and knocked on the door. He opened them after quick 'come in'.

'Dave, I'm gonna be back in an hour.', Aaron said, looking at the older man working on his papers. He looked up with pen still between his fingers.

'Everything's okay?', Dave asked and got quick nod from Aaron. 'Y/N's at the hospital again?'

'Yeah, they finished the case few hours ago so I'm sure she hasn't ate anything since.', he explained. 'I'm just gonna bring her food and come back.'

'No problem. If anything happens, we'll call you.', David said, waving younger man off. Aaron just laughed and closed the door. Then he walked down the stairs, wanting to leave the office.

'Hey, Hotch! Are you going again to get some food?', Emily's voice stopped him from going further. He turned around to face not only her, but three other agents. 'You're going outside, right?'

'Yes, Emily.', he sighed. 'But I'm not going to the place you love to eat from.'

'I figured. But maybe you would want to do us a favor and go there? Since you're already going outside the office.', she explained and Derek started to come closer with JJ right behind him. 'Look, it's raining outside and it's pointless to have two wet agents in the office. We will pay for the gas and also your food, huh?'

'Just text me your order and I'll see what I can do.', Aaron said, rolling his eyes slightly. Then he turned around and started walking towards the elevators, still hearing voices of agents behind him, who were deciding on the order.

Pediatric floor of the hospital was as always busy. Kids running around, parents trying to keep up with them, crying children from everywhere you can imagine and on top of that walls with so many colours, that he thought that someone vomited on them. He had no problem of finding the room where you were. Of course with a help from nurses.

Aaron slowly opened the door from the hospital room. He was expecting for either you or the child to be asleep and he didn't want to wake anybody up. But the sight inside made just his heart to melt.

You were sitting on the couch with Allison sleeping in your arms. Her head was on your chest and arms were really tight around the back. Her moth were slightly open, just like yours. But you also had your head hung back and he was sure he'd hear your complaints about the neck pains for the next week.

Aaron slowly put the package with your favourite food and something tasty for children on the small table near the door. Then he took the blanket from the bed and put it over you and the little girl, knowing how cold you must be from laying down in one place for so long. After that he just put a light kiss on your forehead and with one last look he left the room.

Aaron got to the elevator and took out his phone, checking out one message from Emily.

If you are going to the place near the hospital and there's a girl with short red hair, then say that you would like to order for Agent Prentiss 😘

He furrowed his brows at the message and dialed her right away.

'Did I say something wrong?', she answered after one signal.

'How this girl supposed to know your order?', he asked, looking at the numbers of elevator going down.

'She'll know, trust me. I've been there many time.', Emily laughed and Aaron could practically see her smile through the phone.

'Whatever.', he sighed, hearing the ding from the elevator. 'Oh and Prentiss?', Aaron called and heard quick 'yeah' from the other side. 'Stop sending me emojis. It's highly unprofessional to do it to your boss and it's making me uncomfortable.', he ended, walking out of the hospital.

You could physically feel lighter closing the door to you home. Everything related to work you always tried to leave outside this house and treat this place like an escape. And it was a long few weeks, so you were nothing but happy and relieved that it's over.

The house was quiet and dark. You could only see dim light from the living room and just thinking about it made you smile. You took off your jacked and boots, leaving the bag at the usual place and started walking towards the light. As you saw Aaron sitting on the couch with his eyes closed, you smiled even wider. His feet were on the coffee table and he had a glass of whiskey in his hand.

You leaned on the door frame and with arms crossed on the chest, you observed him.

'I'm awake.', Aaron said with raspy voice. You knew that he was probably sitting here for a while already.

'I know.', you answered and started walking towards the cabinet with alcohols. 'Aaron Hotchner is at home before me. What's happening in this world? Did they closed the FBI building?', you joked while pouring wine into a glass and sitting next to him.

'Very funny.', he answered with a sarcasm. He put arms around your shoulders and kissed your temple.

'I actually am.', you said, taking a sip. 'But I'm glad you're here.'

'Anytime.', he hummed, placing one more kiss on your head.

'Except the time you're working.', you joked and he just rolled his eyes. 'Thank you for the dinner, by the way. Although I would get something to eat myself, you know?'

'Yeah, you would probably eat your first meal of the day right now. I know you, Y/N.', he said, caressing your arm. 'So, how's the girl?'

'Allison?', you asked, reminding yourself of her beautiful smile in your head. Aaron only nodded, taking a sip from his glass, telling you to continue. 'She's gonna be okay, I hope. But she went through a lot.'

'You got close to her.'

'Yeah.', you admitted. 'I know what you think, Aaron. I know that it's not a good thing, I Get close to those kids and then I come home and they're not there. I know how this looks like. But I swear I just want to help them.'

'I know. But also you need to realize, that when they'll go to foster care they won't have someone to look after them every minute they're there. That there's gonna be many more kids their age and the attention you're giving them right now won't be given to them anymore.', he finished, looking down at you.

'Maybe they don't have to go to foster care.', you whispered, hugging your husband closer.

'You want to adopt a child?', Aaron asked slowly getting to the conclusion and realizing something else. 'You wanna adopt Allison.'

'I do.', you admitted. 'But I won't do it.', you added, sitting straight. Aaron just gave you questioning look. 'They found her mother in Portland, she'll come and get her tomorrow. Ignoring the fact that she doesn't have any job, is living in a two bedroom apartment with four other roommates and all the money goes to the alcohol. Yeah, so Allison has a bright future ahead of her.'

'You never know.', he answered. You put head on his chest once again and laid there for few minutes in silence, trying to relax.

'So, you actually put that table together.', you said keeping the eyes in small brown table in front of you, with Aaron's feet on top.

'I thought you'll never notice.', he answered almost sounding hurt.

'Oh, I did. Just wanted to hold the suspension for a little while.', you smiled and kissed him on the lips. 'Derek did it, am I right?', you whispered, narrowing your eyes.

'No.', he answered simply.

'Liar.', you whispered again, kissing him one more time, but stopping after you hear his phone going off. 'Everything's okay?', you asked.

'Yeah, just Emily.' he answered, but started explaining seing your confused face. 'I gave Emily's number to one of the girls that she has crush on from the restaurant. And I guess she had a good evening.', he ended and showed you the text.

SSA aaron 'Hotch' Hotchner, you are truly THE  man 🥰🤭💗🍑

[miss-smutty]

The Destructive Secret

Chapter 4

Summary- You've got a secret to hide and it's going to cause complete and utter devastation. It's only so long until your lies are going to catch up to you.

Pairing- Chris Hems x Reader x Liam Hems

Word count- 2,211

Warnings- Smut, swearing, angst, cheating

18+ Only!!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 29th June 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @mostly-marvel-musings @longlostinanotherworld

>The Destructive Secret Masterlist<

"No not married but you do know her. You know her really well actually." Chris says while avoiding your gaze purposefully...

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, silence so acute you could hear a pin drop. Liam waiting for an answer, Chris looking at his feet and you looking visibly anxious. Chris had drank way too much and now he was about to let all of your secrets loose. This isn't the way you want Liam to find out, surely Chris wouldn't be so cruel.

"I suppose you're not gonna tell me who it is?" 

"Not just yet, see how we go." He looked at you, if he so much as even looked slightly smug you would have slapped him right across his face. Instead you could see the hurt in his eyes, tears welling in the corners. You're both faced with an impossible dilemma, Chris wants you all to himself but doesn't want to lose his brother in the process and you want it all over and done with but don't want to hurt Liam. The latter of both is inevitable but you would take all the blame just so Chris didn't have to lose his brother, given the choice you would lose them both just so that didn't happen.

"Well on that note, I need to go to bed. I've gotta be up early in the morning." You avoid Chris' gaze, you're angry with him but you don't want to cause him more pain. 

"Yeah me too. I better get going. Thank you for dinner Y/N, it was lovely."

You risk a short glance at him, you're eyes softening when they meet. The moment broken when Liam speaks, reminding you where you are and who you're with right at this moment in time.

"Are you for real? You're really going to drop a bombshell like that and then leave? Fuck man." Liam runs his hand through his hair, letting air out of his cheeks exasperatedly.

"Sorry bro, I'll save the excitement for another night. I've said too much already." Chris apologises with his eyes as he passes you, his hands twitching by his side's with the need to touch you.

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

The next morning when you wake, your heart sinks knowing all the turmoil you're going to have to go through just to make it to the hotel without being spotted. All the messing about and hiding you have to do, checking in under a false name at different times. Making sure nobody follows you to the hotel and especially no one follows Chris. Getting caught checking into the same hotel would be dreadful, it wouldn't take a genius for the press to put two and two together, they wouldn't even care if it was true or not as long as they sold copies.

"Right babe, I'm ready to go." You pull your suitcase towards the door, stopping to wrap your arms around Liam.

"Have a good time, I'll see you soon." Wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and lifting your feet from the ground in a squeezy hug. "I'll miss you." 

"I'll miss you too, bye babe." 

"Bye. Love you. Let me know when you get checked in." He kisses you goodbye before watching you leave.

"Will do, Love you." You say over your shoulder, climbing into your silver, Audi convertible.

This is the part you hate the most, the part that made you question whether it was all worth it. It was, of course or you wouldn't be doing it, you wouldn't put yourself through having to pretend to be somebody else and praying your not caught by anyone. It only takes one person to notice you and Chris in the same hotel and it's over. You imagine having an affair is hard work whatever your circumstances but when your boyfriend and your lover are as famous as they are it becomes impossible. It's terrifying. 

You spent the car journey constantly checking your mirrors and making sure you weren't being followed. A huge sunhat and even bigger sunglasses covering your face as your heart beated faster than you thought was possible. A couple of laps around the hotel, making doubly sure you weren't being followed before you finally pulled into the carpark.

You had to constantly think, you couldn't let your guard drop for even a moment and it was exhausting. You were ready for it to be over and done with now, this just isn't fun anymore. Maybe you could run away together and start a new life somewhere else. Which one would you pick though? Who are you ready to give up? Would there even be an option to choose? Would Liam even be willing to forgive you if he knew you were sleeping with his brother? In love with his brother.

Your heart beating out of your chest, your fight or flight well and truly kicking in now as you walk up to the front desk. If there's any recognition in the receptionists eyes you're ready to turn right around and leave. The girl behind the desk, with long blonde hair has her eyes on the computer In front of her, thankfully not paying you much attention as you stand and wait for her to finish.

"Hi I'd like to book a room for two nights please." You stutter nervously, subconsciously checking over your shoulder while you spoke.

"Of course, is it just for yourself?" 

"Yes please, I'm just here for a work conference. I'd like a double bed if possible though, I haven't been able to sleep in a single since I was young." You giggle nervously, embarrassed that you'd told her information she isn't even slightly interested in.

"No problem, I'll see what I have for you." Her eyes barely left her computer as she spoke, she definitely didn't recognise you. The tension in your muscles relaxed a little as your eyes scanned the lobby.

"What name is it please?" She asked, one of the moments you'd been dreading. You hate lying but luckily you'd already come up with the fake name you were using, one you'd already used many times before in the exact same situation. It never gets any easier.

"Jessica Crawley." The names tumbled from your lips, names that had absolutely no meaning to you. 

"Room 101, floor 5. Is there anything else I can help you with?" 

"No thank you, that's great." The overwhelming feeling of relief at completing step one without any problems, rushes over you. Adrenaline spiking, making your legs feel like jelly.

"You're welcome, enjoy your stay. Don't hesitate to let me know if you have any questions." The girl says, smiling sweetly at you before going back to her work.

The elevator seemed to take forever to make its way down to you, your feet shuffling as you watched the numbers above the door, counting down. The overwhelming need to get to privacy and away from the many prying eyes of the people in the lobby was severe. Most were business men and women, that were so consumed in themselves they weren't paying special attention to anyone around them. There were also young couples, making their way through the lobby, probably on their way for lunch but the people that worried you the most were the random loners sat in the armchairs scattered around the lobby. They'd chosen the perfect place to watch, some pretending to read newspapers while their eyes discreetly scanned over the top.

They were much more inquisitive, much like yourself they paid more attention to the people around them. People watchers you liked to call them, these are the sorts of people that make you nervous. They see everything, noticing any minor details, you'd spent a lifetime perfecting 'people watching' which is how you knew to be wary. You could pretty much judge a person's personality just by watching them for a couple of minutes. If anyone was to spot you it would be one of these people. You felt thankful you weren't Chris, there is absolutely no way he was going to make it to the elevator without being seen at least once.

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

Chris didn't feel quite as nervous as you, this was a every day occurance in his life, avoiding paparazzi was near impossible for him. As long as you weren't seen going in to the hotel then it wouldn't matter about him being seen. Still, he'd worn his baseball cap and sunglasses to at least try and hide his identity. He wasn't nervous about being seen but more about having to face you after his fuck up last night. Now that thought was way more intimidating to him.

Casually strolling into the hotel, he tried to ignore the whispers of the people around him. People questioning if it was really him, young girls barely out of high school giggling at the sight of him. Chris quietly prayed that he would make it up to the room without anyone asking for a photo, not that he usually minded but today all he wanted was to spend every possible minute with you as he could.

The receptionist tried to make a fuss when his identity was confirmed during check in. The pale skin of the same blonde girl who'd checked you in, had turned a rather bright shade of red when she heard Chris' sexy Australian accent. You wouldn't blame her, it still makes you swoon whenever you heard him speak.

"I'm fine honestly, I don't want any special treatment. Actually if I could get away with going completely unnoticed during my stay, I will speak to your boss myself and tell them how accomodating you'd been." 

"Oh wow, really? Thank you so much Mr Hemsworth. I will make sure nobody bothers you and if you need anything at all just give me a call, I'll make sure you won't have to leave your room for anything." Chris smiled, pretending not to notice how she seemed to be flirting with him, badly. Tossing her hair over shoulder as she insinuated not so subtly for him to let her know if he wanted any 'special' treatment. Again, you don't blame the girl, infact you would've commended her confidence.

She handed over the keys to the penthouse, watching bright eyed as he walked to the elevator, pulling out his phone as he stepped straight in. 

"Hi babe, I've booked the penthouse suite, meet me up there?" Smiling a tight lipped smile at the girl behind the desk, who was still watching him intently as the elevator doors closed.

"Ok, it isn't very inconspicuous staying in the penthouse is it?" You shouldn't be surprised, he does it everytime. You remember the first time you ever saw a penthouse and how amazed you were that it was actually bigger than your own home at the time. That was a memory you shared with Liam, all of your first times had been with Liam, the thought made your heart sink.

"I mean they knew who I was as soon as I walked in, I think it would look more suspicious if I didn't stay in a suite." Chris answered, pulling you from your thoughts.

"I suppose that's true, I'll be up soon." You could hear the sadness in your voice, something you had to snap out of before meeting Chris.

"Good because I can't wait to get my hands on you." 

Sinking back onto the spongey mattress of your bed, tiredness washing over you already. The mental exhaustion of constantly having to play games and be on your guard at all times, catching up to you as you're finally alone.

Maybe that's what you need afterall, a chance to be alone to gather your thoughts, to workout your own needs and wants without spreading your attention between the two brothers.

You make a mental list of the pros and cons of both of them knowing deep down if Liam were the one for you, you'd have never have looked twice at Chris. They were so similar in a lot of ways but completely different in others.

Liam was the sweetest man you knew, so gentle and caring, attentive to your every whim and being so young when you first got together he was everything you were looking for.

Now being a woman that has gone through so much trauma in her life that had tainted your soul, darkened it with a lust for more.

Then Chris came along, he was still sweet and caring but less attentive to your needs unless it was in the bedroom. He was cheeky and funny, drop dead gorgeous and oozing manliness effortlessly. He was fire and passion. He was more. 

If you let yourself admit it, you wanted excitement, which is how you ended up here in the first place. You didn't want perfect anymore, you wanted a man who could do wrong and then make up for it in the most fulfilling way he knew how. Just thinking about it made your pulse race, Chris had put you through hell last night and now it was time for payback. You imagined Chris only a couple of floors above you, worried about the way you were going to act when you saw him and lord knows how much you're going to make him sweat.                    

[tinyboxxtink]

"...So I Married A Monster" *Chapter 6*

Note I was going to put a 'rough sex' gif under the cut for Lewis's shot, but I don't know if people want that. So here's a scared Rafael for your...pleasure?

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

Alright SO I posted a warning post earlier, but obviously I'm gonna put one here too.

This is probably the most graphic, dark chapter I've ever written for any story. With rape.

Please read at your own discretion.

Also it's a pretty short chapter, but trust me-- you wouldn't want it any longer. But I wrote another sweet short fluffy chapter after this one to make up for it.

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

You did your best to keep calm and keep Billy happy as he aggressively groped at you with his hands, ripping off your shirt and then your bra before tossing you on the bed. Before all of this, you would have been super excited about the events transpiring. If there was one thing you and Billy were great at, it was sex. But somehow, this time it felt...different.

You didn’t know why, it didn’t make any sense to you. This was the same man, it was the same situation, he knew all your special places and you knew his. There were so many nights after he left you and the girls that you would dream about this moment, wishing for it so badly. But now that it was here, it almost felt...wrong.

“What’s wrong sweetie, you look like you’re somewhere else,” Billy stopped hungrily nibbling your neck to look into your eyes.

You used to look into those eyes and see such warmth and comfort, such lust and wanting. You had even told Rafael that you were still in love with Billy, so why didn’t you feel like it? Had they just been words? Words to hurt him because he hurt you by choosing Olivia?

Right now, that’s sure what it felt like. It felt like you were...cheating, on Rafael. Which was stupid, because you had literally just broken up with him. Didn't you? That’s what ‘done’ meant, right? Surely you had meant it in that moment; surely you meant it.

But now you weren’t sure.

“Hello, earth to Y/N!” Billy’s voice grew more agitated as he flicked you across the temple. He had never been so quick to anger before, you didn’t like this one bit.

“S-Sorry, baby,” You quickly put on a smile as your hand travelled down to his jeans, unhooking his belt. “It’s just been a day,”

“Oh, I know sweetheart,” He quickly changed his tune as soon as he felt you fondling with his belt. He helped you undo it and pulled off his jeans. You could feel his throbbing erection against your thigh.

“But daddy’s about to make it all better, I promise,” He gave you a sly grin.

You felt one hand wrap around your head and pulled it into his face even more aggressively than before. He began tugging at your hair as he attacked your neck and shoulders with hard, assertive bites. You remembered the sex between you two being rough, but you didn’t seem to recall it ever being this rough.

"Don't you like that, babe?" He asked as his mouth moved down your torso, pulling off your jeans this time.

"Mmmhmm…." You tried faking it as well as you could, feeling more and more uncomfortable the lower his mouth moved.

"Y'know, you used to be a LOT louder than this when we'd get down and dirty, baby girl," he observed while he moved to the end of the bed, ready to plunge inside you.

"Well Billy, the kids are in the next room," you thought of a plausible excuse as to why you weren't your "usual" self.

"Oh, makes sense," He nodded with a smile as he started chowing down on you like a sloppy dog.

You wanted to enjoy it, you tried to enjoy it, but you were accustomed to Rafael's sweet love making, he was so gentle with his tongue along your folds, taking time to enjoy every little moan and pleasure noise you made.You could often feel him smiling inside you while he gently lapped you up. You wished so badly you were with him right now. How had you fucked this up so badly?

Why didn't you listen to Rafael when he told you about Billy? Why had you not trusted him more? Why did you just react erratically just because you were mad at him? You should have thought it through, you should have heard him out. You should have--

"Alright now you're not even reacting Y/N, where the fuck are you?" Billy demanded.

"O-Oh I'm sorry Billy its just been--"

"A day. I know. You know I had a stressful fucking day too Y/N, having to deal with that prick ADA--- Wait," His eyes suddenly narrowed, he moved his face away from near your opening and looked you in the eyes, his glare in full effect.

Shit.

"Is that who you're thinking of right now? That fucking beaner?" He asked in an accusatory tone.

"He's Cuban not Mexican…." You muttered with a roll of your eyes.

"You really wanna get fucking cute with me right now, bitch?" He acted as if he was going to back hand you, but stopped himself.

"Billy!" You gasped. He had never been vulgar to you before.

"No, no Billy," He growled, pulling your naked body towards him.

"You're gonna stop thinking about that asshole right FUCKING now. I'm your goddamn husband, NOT him. I get to have you whenever I want and I want ALL of you. All of your attention, all of your fucking body. Do you understand me?" He snarled, practically drooling with rage.

"Y-Yes Billy," you tried not to start crying, now fully scared out your mind

"Good. Now flip over, I can't fucking look at you right now," He ordered you.

You flipped over to let him do doggie style but he started going in the wrong hole.

"Billy! What the fuck?" You tried not to yell.

"Well if you're gonna act like a whore thinking about other men than your husband, then I'm gonna fucking treat you like one. I'm gonna do what I want, and you're gonna shut up and take it. Got it?"

"B-Billy, please…." You pleaded with him. "Y-You know the last time we tried…"

"I don't give a FUCK, Y/N," He barked angrily. "I stopped last time because I didn't want to hurt you, because I loved you and you loved me. But now you've hurt me, so you're gonna hurt. REAL BAD," He barely rubbed some spit on his dick before he rammed it up your asshole.

You grabbed a pillow and screamed in pain, howling and trying to wriggle free from him. But he kept his hands wrapped tight around your stomach as he pumped rough and hard as fast as he could, getting off on the pain he was causing you, both mental and physical.

You tried to think of anything other than the pain, but it was so bad you could only cry and continue to scream into the pillow. It was worse than both times you went through labor, and that was saying something.

You prayed to God it would stop soon, he seemed to go on forever and ever. He was cackling softly as he felt you vibrating from the pain.

"Yeah, bet your fucking ADA didn't do you like this did he? What would he do if he saw you now? Hmmm….maybe we should find out,"

Your head snapped from out under the pillow at his threat. You saw him reaching for your phone that he had dropped next to your bed as he carried you into the bedroom.

"Oh God" You practically choked out, unable to speak from the pain. "N-n-no, Billy d-d-don't…"

"Oops would ya look at that I already did," Lewis shrugged with an evil smile.

----

Rafael was busy helping Olivia plan a rescue mission/battle plan when his phone went off. A FaceTime call request from you. He was absolutely terrified to answer it, but he had to answer it. He had to. As soon as he did, he wished he hadn't.

"Hey there Barba'' Lewis panted, a maniacal smile on his face. "You're missing all the fun!"

He could see Lewis had you pinned to the bed, shoving in and out of you forcefully. Your head was shoved into a pillow, to keep from screaming he imagined. He didn't know if he wanted you to look at him or not. He was watching you get raped, and he wanted to vomit.

Olivia noticed the horrified look on his face and stopped talking with the squad.

"Rafa are you-- ohmygod!" She instantly saw the revolting scene on his phone and immediately started pushing him into an interrogation room.

"Nobody needs to see this," Olivia started to shut the door but not before Lewis got to shout "NICE TO SEE YOU TOO DETECTIVE!!" At her.

Rafael was trying his best not to start sobbing; he didn't want to give Lewis the satisfaction. But the more he heard your muffled whimpers and screams of pain, the more he couldn't hold it back anymore.

"Lewis let her go," he begged. "Please I'll do anything you want, just let her go…."

"Well see Barba that's the problem," Lewis smirked. "I want Y/N to--" he suddenly stopped pumping you, feeling your body go limp. He angled the phone downward to reveal blood coming out of your anus and starting to cover the bed. You had passed out from the pain.

"Sorry Barba I'm gonna have to call you back, I have a situation," Lewis half laughed while wiping your blood off his dick.

"What the fuck-- LEWIS!!!" He screamed. "You better be calling a FUCKING ambulance!"

"Chill Barba, I'm sure she's fine. Just a little boo boo. I'll shove some toilet paper up there and she'll be good as new!" Lewis dismissed it, taking a pillow and putting it under your legs so the blood would at least attempt to stay in.

“Good ol’ RICE,” Lewis smirked, thinking of the old term they used in gym class back in the day. ‘Rest Immobilize Cold Elevate’.

“Now if I can get an ice pack from the freezer and tape it there…” Lewis thought out loud.

"Fuck you if you don't call one I will send one, I know exactly where you are" Rafael was losing his patience with him.

"NO, you're not," Lewis warned. "I'm not about to scare my girls by having cops and ambulances showing up here with all the bells and whistles,"

"She's going to DIE, asshole!!!" Rafael continued to scream. "You think your daughters won't notice THAT?"

"Look if she doesn't wake up in a few minutes I'll take her to an Urgent Care, tell 'em she liked it a little TOO rough, Kay?" He said flippantly.

"The fuck you will--" Rafael started to tell again but Lewis put the phone up to his face real nice and close.

"If you send ANYONE here Barba, she'll bleed out before you can touch her," He warned.

"Lewis…" Rafael was shaking. "Don't you love her? You told her you did, don't you care about her at all?"

"Of course I love her!" He snapped. "I'll always love her, she's the mother of my children. That creates a bond, greater than the two of you will ever have,"

"So why are you---"

"Because she needed to be reminded of that bond." Lewis explained. "She was thinking about you while WE were being intimate. I can't let shit like that slide, Barba," Lewis explained while gesturing to your unconscious body. He removed the pillow from your head so Rafael could the tear stained splotches on your face from screaming and crying so hard. Your face was almost white, he wasn’t even sure you were breathing.

"No…." Rafael's voice fell soft.

You had been thinking of him? Wishing you were with him? While Lewis was...having his way with you? He had caused this, he had caused your pain. You were being punished for simply loving him, and that broke his heart even more than it already was.

"You have a nice night there, counselor, ta!" Lewis's evil chuckle came through the screen before it went black.

The image of your body laying there unconscious and bleeding was going to be forever burned into Rafael's mind. He had to do something. SOMETHING.

He bursted out of the interrogation room where the team was still discussing strategy. Olivia immediately went to his side, knowing what he had just been through.

"Liv we--" he tried to stop from crying and compose himself. "We have to go there. We have to get her. We HAVE to,"

"Okay, Okay Rafa," Olivia tried to calm him down while the rest of the squad looked on in shock. They had zero idea what was happening.

"We'll go get her, it'll be okay," She assured him while trying to get him to calm down.

He hoped they wouldn't be too late.