#I'm ashamed of myself how I have fall

[orange-chair-of-doom]

For all Izzy Haters (not all, all, just the one puritanical enough to start a witch hunt for the one who enjoy him, the other idc, you do you, babe, agree to disagree):

If you had an Hannigram phase -> you're an hypocrite

If you didn't have an Hannigram phase -> I did, Izzy is literally the least problematic shit I like, stop clutching you pear in horror, it's literally a downgrade from my usual depravity and toxicity

[criscura]

I wish I wasn't so exhausted and I could make more art.... I even planned out a whole prompt-a-day month for Saigenos/Genosai, TWICE, but the first time no one seemed like they could participate when I asked about it, and the second time I friggin lost the damned plan. I could remake it a third time, but I just....I don't know.

I've been really struggling to get along for a while, and I think if it didn't hit it off--or even if I just got really productive and it seemed like I was reaching crickets--I'd be so incredibly discouraged that it would bring me down even further. It usually takes my stuff a few months to a year to get reach, and that really doesn't do anything for me when I need the support immediately.

It's not that I don't have a billion ideas for so many different things, but my battery has been taking longer and longer to charge up and it's been running out faster and faster, and it's been like this for....a year?? Ish?? Maybe longer, I don't know.

I wish I could just stop needing so much fucking time to bounce back.....

[hexagonaldecency]

Screaming at the void a bit

[luveline]

𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

You worry your boyfriend is ashamed of you. This is very much not the case. Or, 5 times Hotch hid your relationship (+1 time he didn’t).

7k words, new-ish established relationship, lots of fluff between angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, civilian!reader, reader calls him aaron mostly

༺༻

The security for Aaron's building is weird. Weird as in extensive, intimidating, and extremely intricate. 

You'd really wanted to minimise his stress — the whole reason you're here is to bring him a forgotten sheet of paper that must've slipped out at your kitchen table from one of his case files because you don't want him to have to make up a new copy — but you're too scared to go in. 

You pull your phone out reluctantly and dial in his number, eager to hear his voice even if the security detail a few feet away are freaking you out. 

"Hotchner." 

"Hi, handsome," you say softly. 

There's a small pause. For a split-second a nightmare situation runs through your head, his low voice asking, Who is this?

"Hi, honey." 

You beam so wide it aches, forcing a pleased little breath from your mouth. 

"What do you need?" he asks. 

"I'm outside of your building but I'm too afraid to come in. I'm not sure they'll let me. I need a badge, right?" 

"You're outside." 

You pick at the hem of your sweater, a loose thread marring your otherwise pretty outfit. You'll admit to dressing up unnecessarily to see him. Nice clothes, your most subtle perfume. 

"I found something confidential this morning, a piece of paper. I didn't read it, I promise."

"You really shouldn't be here," he says. 

Your smile abruptly drops. You press the phone closer to your face and wait, hoping he's not talking to you. When it's clear that he is you cringe, the silence pervasive and the most awkward it's ever been with him. 

"Sorry." Your apology is quick, quiet. "I thought it would be easier for you. I didn't mean to… overstep." 

"It's not that. It's busy. Would you hang on to it for me? Maybe I can come and get it tonight, bring dinner." 

You love how he says it. It's not a question, not an assumption. And it's a relief. If he wants to see you on a night where you hadn't planned to get together, he can't be mad at you for being here. 

"Yeah, please. If you want to." 

"I want to. Okay?"

Not for confirmation, it's shorthand. You okay? 

"Yeah. Okay. Have a good rest of your day, handsome." 

"Bye." 

You like to think you can hear the sound of his phone clicking shut, imagining him at his desk in one of his neat suits with a case file open in front of him. You're not sure on the specifics of his job but you know he looks good doing it, and you also know he's very, very busy. You don't take his clipped goodbye as anything but efficiency. 

Maybe you should. 

—

The next time Aaron inadvertently hurts your feelings is in person. 

Compared to him, you wouldn't say you're an incredibly exciting character. Your day job is tame, your hobbies are invaried. You like to watch TV, see movies, you enjoy people-watching. When you hold that stuff up to his job, his profiling, and his hobbies (seriously, who likes triathlon?) you feel rather immature. 

You know deep down that hobbies are hobbies and that your job doesn't define how special you are, but when you're with someone like Aaron who lives and breathes his profession it can play with your head. 

"Is there something interesting about my shirt?" he asks, a murmur under the sound of the TV. 

You look up from the hem of his nice button down and smile, a half-smile. You want it to be more genuine than it is. "Don't you already know?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"You can tell I'm…" You frown, dropping the starched material of his shirt from between your fingers. "I've given myself up, haven't I?" 

"A little," he concedes sympathetically. 

You huff your defeat and let your cheek fall into his chest. Nice to seek comfort from him, nicer for him to give it to you, his arm rising from behind your shoulders to hook around your neck. 

"I'm not profiling you," he says, voice close to the top of your head, "I'm wondering what you're thinking."

You relax under his touch, his big hand settling in the curve of your neck. A semi-hug. It doesn't take long for you to melt into his front completely, your unhappy thoughts dissolving with any tension and leaving only a want to kiss his stupidly nice neck.

"It doesn't matter," you say. 

"You sure?" 

You lift your head from his chest. He has to lean back to meet your eyes and he does it unflinchingly, a bemused smile playing on his lips. 

"I'm good. Better, if you would…" 

"Yeah?" he asks quietly, leaning down, down. 

You can't withstand his charms. He knows exactly how to get you, his smile and his eyes, his lashes kissing in the corners as they close. 

He's imposing in the best way, a heavy presence that overwhelms you. All you can think about is the way he nudges his nose with yours to encourage your head back and the heat of his lips as they touch your own. His arm tightens behind your head.

You try to rise onto your knees, hands vying for his neck and his pitch dark hair. You're doubly pleased when you feel his mouth turning up into a smile, a mirror of your own. 

"Slow down," he chides gently. 

You're about to say something unlike yourself, something loud and brash. Speed up, Hotchner. You're hopped up on the giddiness that comes with being close to him. You're just about to say it when his phone rings. 

He gives you a short, hard kiss. 

"Hotchner." 

You sit back in his lap, his hand sliding to the small of your back to keep you close as his face clouds with confusion. You attempt to climb off of him because you're not a sack of sugar — you're probably giving him numb thighs — but he won't let you.

"Garcia," he says eventually, "is this an emergency?" His tone makes it clear to you that whatever it is Garcia is saying, it's far from an emergency. 

His hand climbs up, over your shoulder. You shudder as he tugs your earlobe, a mild and thoughtless gesture. You're so busy shivering you almost miss his playful eye roll. 

"I haven't changed my mind. Yeah. Thanks for the invitation, but I'm perfectly happy where I am tonight." 

Whatever Garcia says makes him laugh. If you weren't sitting as close to him as you are you wouldn't have heard it. 

"Have fun. Bye," he says succinctly. He snaps his phone closed in one hand, the other dropping from your ear to your shoulder. It's heavy with a remorse you can't allow. "Sorry."

"Doesn't matter," you assure, tilting your head toward his hand and pretending to size him up. You don't know how to profile, but you're a good guess. 

"You're not telling me something." 

"No?" He blinks in surprise.

"No. You've been invited somewhere with your work friends, and you usually go. Why not tonight?" 

"I think that's obvious." 

"You don't have to flake on your friends for me, Aaron." 

He smiles as you say his name. "Like I told Garcia, I am perfectly happy where I am." 

You hide your face in his neck lest he see your doped up smile. "You have nice friends," you murmur, working your hands under the hem of his shirt. 

"I think you'd love Garcia after the infinitial terror." 

"I think I would too. She's good to you, after all. Makes me like her… Maybe one day we can all go out for drinks." 

You don't have to be a profiler to feel the way he tenses. 

"Yeah," he says. It sounds very much like Probably not. 

That's a strumming hurt. Aaron is so nice, so so nice, and he treats you like you're gold dust. He does all the movie boyfriend stuff like flowers, silver earrings on your birthday (with tiny diamonds!), dinner reservations at dauntingly fancy restaurants. And he does stuff you didn't know men did, like calling you near every night to make sure you had a good day, and praising even your smallest achievements, and leaving notes in places he knows you'll find them on hard days. You don't know how he knows when days are hard, he just does. 

You'd figured all of this stuff meant he must really like you, might even love you though he's yet to say it, and that's why his lack of enthusiasm stings. 

Why doesn't he want you to meet his friends? He's obviously very proud of what they do at the BAU. They're not the issue. 

It's you. 

You cuddle him as a pit forms in your chest. 

"You're tired?" he asks.

Funny how it's his comfort you crave when he's the one who's hurt your feelings. You're a little lopsided being upset with him, and you know if you tell him how you feel he'll try to make it up to you, but you're too afraid of the other alternative — a fight. Right now his arms are a sanctity you wouldn't trade for anything. You hope he feels the same. 

You're not sure anymore. 

"Yeah," you say roughly. 

Your eyes burn as he pats your back. "Let's go to bed, honey." 

You'll just… have to prove you're someone worth showing off. 

—

Your plan, loosely titled 'Get Aaron Hotchner to Show Me Off,' is going about as well as you'd thought it would. 

If Aaron doesn't want me to meet his friends there must be a reason. You've been thinking about it and it can't be a coincidence that he hadn't wanted you to return his paperwork a few weeks ago. That must've been something significant. 

But what? 

You start with your hair. Aaron has expressed a lovely and heaping handful of times that he thinks you have pretty hair. He plays with it often, usually when he's limp and tired from a long day. You've always taken care of it. Now you're going to the extreme — hair masks, hair appointments you can't afford, anything to make it look perfect. 

It doesn't work toward the plan, though your boyfriend certainly notices. 

"Your hair," is the very first thing he says when he sees you, stopping only in his smiling assessment to kiss your cheek in greeting. 

"Is it okay?" you ask, turning your face to one side. 

"More than okay. Do you want to go in?" 

So it's kind of a bust. But that's okay, you weren't expecting to get a haircut and magically be invited to team dinners. You persevere, and eventually you forget the plan for the night when Aaron promises to show you how much he likes your new look with a hand at the small of your back. 

Phase two, your clothes. 

You dress as nicely as you can but you're no fashion guru and you can't afford an entirely new wardrobe. You get a bunch of magazines and look for fall staples. What's in this year, and how do you style it? You buy a couple of pieces that fit your budget and try to work around them. 

Aaron's favourite are the new corduroy pants. They aren't a great fit. 

"They're too tight," you lament, pulling the fabric from your thighs where they hug snugly. They're a desaturated sort of burgundy, not bright by any means but a good 'pop of colour'. 

"I know," he says. 

You gawp at him, and when he gets his fingers on the buttons afterward, you break. 

"You like them?" you ask worriedly. 

"What makes you think I don't?" 

"Besides how eager you are to get them off of me?" 

He hooks two fingers in your belt loops and holds your gaze as he tugs them down. "I like them." 

A good time, but still no dice. You suppose a new look, besides looking smarter, doesn't actually prove your merit as a girlfriend. Maybe he wants something a little more concrete before he introduces you to people. Maybe things aren't as good for him as they are for you, and he doesn't see the point. 

That particular thought sparks a wave of panicked tears. 

The next time you see him, it's like he can tell. You wonder if he has x-ray vision, some sixth sense for tear stains that he has yet to tell you about. He's been gone for a few days in St. Louis, and when he'd come back he'd spent the weekend with Jack, so it's a whole seven days since the last time you saw him and your worries have festered. Not even his doting phone calls had kept the thought at bay. 

Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend. 

You open your door and there he is in a quarter zip with an overnight bag, matte suit cover draped over one arm. 

"Hi," you say, unsure. 

"Did I get uglier while I was away?" he asks seriously. 

You startle. "No, of course not." 

He smiles and meets you in the doorway, your head dipping back to accommodate. "I think I've had it too good," he says lightly, bringing a tentative hand to your cheek. "Are you okay?" 

You're trying to work out what he means, and when you do your heart skips. "Handsome!" you say urgently. "Hi, handsome. No, you didn't get uglier, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, and-" 

He kisses you. It's malaligned because of your parted lips, but it's good. You'd really missed him. 

"You're definitely still handsome," you murmur. 

"Doesn't count. I begged for it-" 

"No!" you deny, lifting on tiptoes to give him another kiss and stop his slander. "It does count because you're always handsome, I promise. I think I slept too much and miswired my brain when I woke up." 

"I don't mind that you didn't call me handsome," he says firmly, "now let me in. We have dinner to make." 

"Right, sorry."

Aaron frowns at you, then. It's weird. He frowns at his phone, at the TV, at nothing, but he doesn't frown at you. 

"Is something wrong?" he asks as you traverse down the hall. You hold your hands out for his suit and bag to take to your room and hang up, ignoring his question. He doesn't give them to you. "Is there?" 

"No." You smile as you say it. 

You're an awful liar, especially with him. He makes you more nervous than anyone because he's your boyfriend and because he's a literal human lie detector. 

"You didn't even try." 

You cover your face with both hands and groan dramatically, spinning around and away from him. You don't want him to see how flustered you are. 

"Don't make fun," you beg. 

"You're embarrassed." 

"Teach you that at the Bureau, do they?"  

You stop in the doorway of the kitchen, distracted by your own racing thoughts when suddenly there are two long arms needling around your waist and pulling you backward. You gasp a laugh and squirm uselessly to escape. 

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. 

You tip your head back, hands falling from your face in surprise. "What for, handsome?" 

His laugh fans out over your face but when he speaks again there's no humour there, only sincerity, "For being gone so long." 

"Well don't be. You can't exactly help it, Agent Hotchner," you hum. 

"Oh, don't." 

"Going out and saving the world takes time. I knew that when I met you, 'n I know it now. You don't have to say sorry." 

"I'm not apologising for my work. I'm apologising that we've," — his nose presses into the highest point of your cheek — "been apart." 

"I did miss you," you relent. 

He presses his lips to your cheek. "I missed you too." 

It's a nice distraction. You'd missed one another, and now you're together. You forget for a while what you'd worried, and only when he leaves again do you remember. 

Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend. 

You're not stupid enough to think Hotch is using you for anything, or that he's insincere. You're level-headed, though. His affection for you isn't necessarily permanent no matter how genuine. 

You don't want to be overbearing. The offers start slow. 

I can wash that for you. Of course I'm sure, I'm great with whites. 

Maybe I could make you lunch tomorrow. You can take it in, spare yourself the federal cafeteria. 

Yeah, I got them shined for you. They were looking a little dull at the toes. 

"Do you want me to press these?" you ask. 

Aaron looks up from where he's sitting in bed. You'd been out on a foray to the bathroom and have come to a stop by his bedroom door where a pair of black slacks hang in wait for the morning. 

He pushes a darling pair of reading glasses up the bridge of his nose. "No." 

"Are you sure? It won't take five minutes." 

"I'll do it in the morning." 

"I can do it for you, then. Just wake me up," you say, pushing back the sheets on the empty side of his bed. Your socked foot bumps his thigh as you pull up your legs. "What are you reading?" 

He puts his book on the nightstand, takes off his glasses. It's too bad. He really suits them.

"I want to talk to you about something." 

You laugh and slide down onto the flat of your back. 

"What?" he asks, confused, the tiniest hint of amusement in his eyes. 

"It's unlike you to start that way. You always cut around the fat." You bring his bed sheets up to your nose and squint at him. "'M I in trouble?" 

"Depends." 

"On what?" 

"You know I care about you." 

Your heart somersaults. That feels very much like a break-up opener, and he must see your anxiety on your face. He wrangles your hand from under the sheets and leans over you, his face in your eyeline, his fingers massaging yours until they ache in the good way. 

"Do you know how much?" he asks. 

"Is that a trick?" 

"No." 

You wait in case there's something he's going to add. When there's nothing, you pull the sheets to your chin and tamp down your perplexed pouting. 

"Yeah, I know how much." 

"I'd like to tell you how much." He pulls your joined hands toward his jaw. "I know I'm not always here, but I'm always thinking of you. In roundabout ways." 

"What ways?" you ask. Self-indulgence.

Aaron Hotchner indulges you. 

"I see," — he kisses your hand — "trees. I've seen a thousand trees, but when I see the bigger ones I wish you could see them too." 

It's a dropping sensation, near uncomfortable, that's how gutted his confession makes you feel. "You do?" 

"Sometimes women walk past me and I swear that it's you because they smell like your perfume. Flowers growing through cracks in the sidewalk. Lights through the jet window." It's the kind of stuff you like to point out to him when you're together. 

He stares at you, a long, reassuring look. 

He deserves a better reply, but all you can say is, "I think of you all the time, too." 

"I love that you want to take care of me, but you don't need to wear yourself out." 

You bite the inside of your bottom lip. So that's what this is about. Aaron has profiled you, and now he's being the gentleman that he is and assuaging your fears. 

"I'm not," you say quickly. 

He understands that you're saying I'm not wearing myself out rather than I'm not taking care of you. You are taking care of him, the best that you can, the best that he'll allow. 

"I can press my own pants," he says, leaning down for a kiss. "I can shine my own shoes." He kisses you again. You screw your eyes closed as the warmth of his breath heats your cupid's bow. "I can do my own laundry." He pulls back, dropping your hand in favour of your neck. His thumb pushes against your windpipe gently, palm hot over your skin. "I'll accept the lunches, if you're sure you don't mind making them." 

You feel as excited as you did the very first time he touched you, chest full of a dizzying pleasure, heart bump-bump-bumping a racing rhythm. His thumb strokes a lazy quarter circle into your neck. He can probably feel your pulse, see the way your eyes have blown. 

"I love making them," you say, breathless in earnest.

"The team think I'm spoiled." 

"You aren't spoiled." You're adored, you want to say. You cup his cheek instead. "You'd be spoiled if I brought them by everyday." 

Aaron doesn't stay with you and you don't stay with him enough to make him lunch everyday. He might get one or two a week, and that's when he's home. 

"Wouldn't that be nice," he mutters, his fingers pushing between your neck and the pillow underneath. 

You hike up on to your elbows slowly to avoid headbutting him. "Well, I could." 

His easy, loving smile flattens. "No." 

"I wouldn't mind. My lunch break is super long and it only takes me ten minutes to get there. We could have lunch together." 

"That's not going to work." 

"Okay." You wish you could take it as calmly as he says it. You sound choked up. You are choked up. 

"Sweetheart, the office is a war zone. Half the time I'm not there." 

"I get it," you say, dropping flat onto your back again. 

"Sweetheart." 

"Handsome," you mirror, putting on your best unaffected smile. 

You can't hold it very long, his concerned brows too much to deal with. You turn your head to the left and turn off the lamp on the nightstand, throwing at least half of your expression into darkness. 

Aaron doesn't give up. Does he ever? He cups your cheek and pulls you back to face him. 

"I can't promise any lunch dates. But I was thinking we'd go out for dinner next week, Friday," he begins hopefully, "somewhere nice." 

It feels like an apology and you're desperate to take it. 

"I don't need somewhere nice, s'long as you're there 'n not in Kansas, or Colorado, or Idaho, or New Jersey-" 

He hums and drops his head until his nose lies against your own. "Gonna go through all fifty?" 

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Hotchner?" 

"I love your voice," he says agreeably. 

Disarmed, you let him charm you, and you let him push it all out of your mind. Plan foiled, your fears fall on the backburner for a third time. 

—

His fourth rejection is the first that feels entirely intentional, though you won't know until later. 

Mostly because Aaron pushes you. 

Far from cruel, the two of you are actually out walking in the city when he forces you into an alleyway, your fancy drink sloshing down the front of your sweater. 

You laugh in surprise and almost roll your ankle, hands clinging to his coat to stop an unfortunate fall. 

"Holy shit, Hotchner, learn to be a gentleman," you say as he presses up against you. "What are you doing? I'm soaked, you're gonna ruin your sleeves." 

He kisses you hard. It's a surprise, your head jumping back against the wall to find his hand already there to protect it. 

It's worth noting that Aaron is a sweetheart in practically every aspect of life. He once apologised after having walked in on you changing, which is ridiculous because most of the nights where you're together he insists on getting you some sort of undressed (even if it's just to help you into your pyjamas).

Needless to say, he's never kissed you like this. Your emotions spike so suddenly you laugh into his mouth, a girlish peel of giggles that you'll regret afterward but can't stop for the life of you. 

He shushes you. "Sorry," he whispers, as ill-composed as you've ever heard him. "Sorry, just-" He cuts you both off with another bruising kiss. 

Your laughter fades into sighs and little gasps for air. Somewhere near the alleyway opening a group of people pass by, a jovial series of cheers and friendly laughter trailing behind them. Aaron presses you further into the wall behind, and slowly, slowly winds down. Weirdly, you think his last couple of pecks feel sorry, softer and sweeter. 

Your lips buzz. 

"Why'd you buy me that fancy drink if you were gonna tip it all over me?" you ask good-naturedly when he finally pulls back. 

"You looked too nice today." His deadpan voice wars with the smile on his face. "I'm sorry. We'll go find you something to change into." 

"Was it really that important that you kiss me right then?" you ask, feigning disdain. 

He looks out toward the main street again. "Yes. Where do you want to go? There's a Nordstrom." 

You take a sip of your drink, unsurprised when he takes your hand and starts to lead you toward the department stores. "Have you ever been inside of a Nordstrom?" 

"I'm sure I'll figure it out."

— 

The fifth time is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Or the brick. It feels heavier than a strand of straw. It's technically already come to pass, so it's an invisible brick. 

You're out for coffee by yourself which really means you're out for something sweet, bundled up in a coat and scarf to fight the night-time chill. 

"Thank you," you tell the barista, accepting your drink and receipt with a smile. 

You turn around and almost walk straight into a pretty dark-haired woman with really nice hair. You make a note to tell Aaron about it when you see him next, not because he'll care but because he likes to hear what you've been thinking about. And right now, all you can think about is her feathered bangs. 

I want nice bangs, you think offhandedly. 

"I'm sorry," you say, trying to move around her. 

She steps into your path. 

"Sorry," you say again. 

She's squinting at you, thin eyebrows peeking out from behind her hair. "Sorry, have we met?" she asks. 

You try not to be too hasty, but you're not sure you've ever seen her. You stare at her as she stares at you, and you get a tiny inkling of familiarity, but it's gone as quick as it comes. 

"I'm really sorry, I don't think so," you murmur, tilting your head to one side. 

She bites her lip, let's it go. "Oh!" she says excitedly, voice bright with triumph. "Oh oh oh! I know who you are, you're Hotch's mysterious girlfriend!" 

Your smile turns quizzical. You know nearly everybody calls Aaron 'Hotch'. Whenever you try it he either gives you the silent treatment or covers your mouth with his hand. 

"I'm Emily Prentiss, I work in the BAU," she explains rapidly, shoving her purse under her hand to offer it for a handshake. 

You do the same and shake her hand. Introducing yourself feels awkward. She knows you. You don't have a clue who she is. Only- 

"Oh, I know who you are now, I'm sorry I didn't recognise you before!" you say contritely. "I've seen photos of you and the team together. It's really nice to meet you." 

She nods. "It's nice to meet you too. I have to say, we've been dying to meet you. We even have a betting pool on what you're like, because Hotch barely says a thing about you." 

You try not to look as devastated as you feel, re-wrapping your fingers around your cup. "No?" 

"We didn't even know what you looked like until we saw you the other day. We came looking to say hi and you'd disappeared." 

You lick your dry lips. "The other day?" 

"Yeah, last Friday. We were out for impromptu drinks, celebrating a case. You know, you should come with sometime. It would be fun." 

Emily talks each word with an undertone of good humour. She's stunning, bubbly, and her hair flows around her face with every movement. 

"He really doesn't talk about me?" 

Emily drops into girl code niceties, backtracking. "I mean, not too often. We catch him smiling at his phone and hear your voice sometimes when you call. He seems happy. Well, happy as Hotch can seem." She swallows. "He's a private creature."

He doesn't talk about me. 

You pretend to check your watch. 

"It was really good to meet you," you say, voice airy with a feigned nonchalance. 

"Yeah, of course. Super nice," Emily says. 

You smile at her. It's more like a grimace. By the time you're outside of the coffee shop you're too upset to care, a humiliated shock of tears brewing behind your achy eyes. 

You hold your cup to your chest and unzip your purse to tuck the receipt inside, trying to maintain some control. There's a folded note inside, thick cardstock quartered. 

You take it out. Your fingers tremble with offended adrenaline. 

You're beautiful. 

Short, sweet, extremely Aaron Hotchner. Too bad you can't believe it. 

Emily Prentiss being out and about means the BAU are done for the night, though whether your workaholic boyfriend got the memo is anyone's best guess. You're not sure if it's better or worse if he's in work when you call. You're so upset that you can't help yourself. 

"Hi, honey." 

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" you ask, staving off tears with all your willpower. 

"I wouldn't write it if I didn't mean it. That one took you a while to find, I was-" 

"Are you sure?" 

"...Are you okay?" 

You glare up at the dark sky rather than answer, blinking hard to force down your tears. You really don't wanna cry, but it's been a bad day and meeting Emily has made it worse. No matter how hard you try to think otherwise, all signs point to Aaron being ashamed of you. Embarrassed to be with you. He's hiding your relationship from everybody. 

"Am I- Is it my clothes? My job?" 

"What's wrong with your clothes?" 

"You tell me, detective." 

You're getting angry. He's- he's lying, or he's messing with you. He's making fun of you. At least that's how it feels. 

"Where are you right now?" he asks. You can picture him shrugging on his suit jacket, putting his files in order to come and meet you. 

You don't want to see him. "I'm at the coffee shop by your apartment. I actually ran into somebody, and I'm feeling very well-informed." A first tear bumps down your cheek. You ignore it. 

"I don't understand." 

"I don't understand! What am I doing wrong?" You bite your tongue in last ditch efforts to remain intact, but the tears won't hold off any longer. You swallow a sob. "What's wrong with me?" 

"Nothing. Nothing, honey, nothing is wrong with you." 

You wipe your wet face with mean hands. 

"Stay where you are. I'll come and meet you." 

"No. I don't wanna see you." 

"Honey-" 

"Leave me alone, Aaron." 

You hang up. You walk for a while, feeling as though steam is rising off of your flushed skin with every clumsy step. It had been a short phone call and already you can't remember what you said, all you can feel is angry, and then that runs out and all you can do is cry. 

You've never felt incredibly attractive. Aaron makes you feel better than that — he has the uncanny ability to inspire self-confidence with a loaded look alone. He can smile at you and your skin feels like it's glowing. 

So why doesn't that translate? If he thinks you're so pretty, why does he insist on hiding you away?

Because that day, he'd seen his friends. He could've introduced you but he took you down the alley and kissed you so you wouldn't be seen. That's not too busy: That's secretive. 

That kiss. You fooled yourself into thinking you must've looked irresistible. Fuck. You went home that night thinking you were the best thing since sliced bread. 

"I'm so stupid," you mutter, sniffling. 

Your self deprecation is muffled by the sound of a slowing car. You don't look up. There are two possibilities for who it is, and you don't want to deal with either. 

The car parks and then you do look up. Despite how mad you are you're not suicidal, and Aaron's given you extensive coaching on sex trafficking. 

It's him. Shocker. 

You're half-expecting him to reprimand you. You didn't look up until I parked. You know it takes five seconds to snatch and incapacitate someone? 

He looks haphazardly put together. Suit jacket on but tie loosened, he rounds the hood of his car and joins you on the sidewalk. You don't want to play games with him. He really doesn't need it, he didn't sign up for it, and drama isn't your style, but you're sick of this. 

"You want to tell me what you're thinking?" he asks, standing an amicable two feet away, hands at his hips.

"I'm really mad." 

"What else?" 

"I'm thinking," you say, looking down at your cold hands, "that you… That you're…" You rub your cheek into your shoulder to hide a fresh tear. "I don't know, Aaron. I'm thinking lots of things." 

"Do you want to think about them in the car?" he asks. 

Do you want to talk about it?

You don't want to talk about it. You don't like crying in front of him on a good day. 

You're pretty sure he'll combust on the spot if he knows you're walking home alone in the dark and distracted. 

You get in the car. He has the good sense not to touch your shoulders like he normally would. 

You buckle as soon as you've closed the passenger side door. "I'm sorry," you mumble, looking down at your knees. 

"Let's forget that, for now." He turns the key but doesn't pull out. "Tell me what's upset you and I'll explain." 

"I met Emily Prentiss." 

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye.

"She told me that you don't talk about me. Ever. That they didn't even know what I looked like." 

You know he's listening but he keeps his eyes on the road, and you chance a look at the side of his face. He doesn't seem mad. 

"I don't talk about you often," he says. "But that doesn't mean never… It's true that they didn't know what you look like." 

"Until last week, when they saw us together and you pulled me into an alley so they couldn't see me." 

"Yes." 

Your lower lip trembles. "Do you see why that would upset me?" You're asking genuinely. 

"Yeah, honey." 

Your head jolts up. He's diverting his gaze from the road to you intermittently, offering up a regretful grimace. The oncoming headlights splash over his work worn face. 

"Then why are you doing this? What's so wrong with me that you won't even admit we're together?" 

"Nothing is wrong with you. I'm not ashamed of you," he says firmly, volume rising. 

"Then why?" 

His eyebrows pull together. "You're the best person I've ever met that isn't my son, and I selfishly don't want to share you yet. I also don't want to scare you off." 

You pull your sleeves over your hands and turn in your seat, wiping your damp cheeks as he continues. 

"My job is hard, and it's dangerous. It has jeopardised the safety and wellbeing of people I love before. So no, I'm not eager to introduce you to my world. The more intertwined with my life that you become, the more danger I put you in, and…" The car slows down again. He turns to look at you. "And I like that I'm the only one who knows you like this.

"I have been hiding you. I have. But it was a," — his tone turns wry — "misguided attempt at keeping you all to myself. Safe, and to myself." 

You're finding it difficult to be mad with him. 

He's finding it difficult to maintain his poker face. A fat tear rolls down your cheek and you're not sure what it's made of, fatigue or relief or plain hurt, whatever it is he doesn't like it. He pulls over. 

You hold still as he pinches the tear off of your chin. 

"How long have you felt like this?" 

"Like what?" you ask wetly. 

"Like this." He opens his hand against your cheek. It encompasses your face; you lean in, hungry for reassurance. 

"I don't know." 

"This is why you changed your hair. Your clothes. And started making my lunch." 

You cover his hand with your own. "I actually really like making your lunches." 

You stare at each other until suddenly you're laughing, sniffly, short of breath. Aaron joins in soon after. He always sounds so surprised to be laughing.

"I'm glad," he says when your laughter has abated, pinky and ring finger caressing down the slope of your cheek. "I really like having them. Rossi can't hide how jealous he is." 

"They know about the lunches?" 

His mindless petting pauses. "They know about the lunches. You're not a secret. I'm… selfish with the details. I'm selfish." Aaron takes back his hand. "I'm sorry." 

You take as deep a breath as you can. "Okay." 

"Yeah?" 

"Mm. Can we go home?" 

His eyebrows jump and swiftly smooth again. "Yeah, we can go home." He chucks your chin and gets the car moving again. 

You watch him drive. 

When you get home, he doesn't mind reassuring you some more. Actually, it's like he needs to do it. You'd love to say that it's overkill and that his low murmurings of praise are unnecessary, but you can't. 

"You're lovely," he says seriously across two plates of pasta. Again through the mirror when you're brushing your teeth, and again when you've curled into his chest for the night. You're lovely. Nothing that needs hiding. 

You hear him on the phone early in the morning, half asleep. 

"Hey, Dave. Yeah. Okay. Uh… No, that's fine." He laughs under his breath. "Yeah, if she was awake I'd ask her to make you one. I think she would… Okay. See you in forty." 

You bury your tired face into his pillows and beam. 

—

+1 

Aaron's office is terrifyingly hectic. You can see already that the bullpen is full to bursting with agents, including but not limited to his special team of profilers. There's the distinct smell of coffee, sharp and burning, and then the underlay of printer ink, new paper. 

You can't believe you're here. 

You're not brave enough to introduce yourself to his team, and half aren't at their desks anyways. You hover in the doorway until somebody needs to get past you, taking a reluctant step inside.

You shouldn't wait for Aaron. You should be brave. You're a grown up, and you're bringing your grown up partner his very grown up lunch. You'd wanted desperately to do this. The least that you can do is do it by yourself. 

You've scrapped most of the fall staples but kept the burgundy pants Aaron likes so much at his request. They feel insanely tight on your thighs, as does your collar. In fact, the room has definitely shrunk since you got here. 

Like an idiot, Aaron says your name loud and clear, standing with a hand on the railings at the top of the instep. You hadn't even noticed him emerging from his office.

His voice demands — commands — attention. People turn in their seats, first toward him, and then toward you. 

All eyes on me. 

You don't run but you don't walk either, weaving through desk chairs and people looking a mix of busy and curious.

"You're being cruel," you say as you approach him, a brown paper bag held close to your abdomen. 

"Hi, honey," he says. He wears a knowing smile, all dark and tall and handsome as he starts down the stairs to meet you. 

"Don't punish me." 

"Is that what you'd call this?" he asks, hand quick to clasp your shoulder, glueing you in place so he can kiss your forehead.

And yes, this is what you'd wanted. The doting boyfriend not just at home but at work, too.

That doesn't mean it isn't really, really embarrassing. 

"Is everyone looking at me?" you murmur. 

He slips his arm behind your shoulders to walk you up the stairs. "Yes." His voice drops lower. "At one place specifically, I imagine." 

"What part is that, Agent?" 

He laughs and opens his office door to beckon you inside. "Don't start." 

༺༻

my first hotch fic omg. i did a big character study beforehand but i doubt it's entirely in character, hotch is a difficult character to write for! (and im only at season 4). but this was so fun and he's hot so it's worth it. if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging! i promise it makes a difference to me (and also i love seeing what people thought). thank you for reading!! ♥

[themarsbar]

Let me tell you how - as clumsy and awkward as it was - Wille's first conversation with Simon went like it was specifically designed to make Simon fall for him. Like straight to the heart and deadly. Non-survivable event.

Simon is eating alone, no-one's sitting next to him to his right, to his left and in front of him, like people are at best not acknowledging him and at worst actively avoiding him, which they probably are. Wille comes in, sees him and purposefully seeks him out. He wants to sit close to him and talk to him. This is new to Simon and not at all something he'd have expected from "Ers Majestät".

W: "[you don't belong with Forest Ridge] but you're eating with us?" S: "We non-residents have to eat somewhere". Oh, you know Simon was just waiting to sink his teeth into Wille (metaphorically ...for now) and he savors Wille's faux-pas. You can just tell how much he enjoys delivering that comeback.

Wille's counterattack? Deadly. He introduces himself. He's like "I haven't introduced myself, I'm Wilhelm." He's humble, he doesn't assume people know him just because he's a member of the royal family and had a whole welcome party organized just for him like, yesterday. He's just a newcomer and his name is Wilhelm.

"I liked what you said in there, Simon." Simon had the whole class against him right then, teacher included, but Wille appreciates his opinion, he likes that Simon spoke up, even and especially against him. Bonus point, he adds Simon's name at the end of the compliment, because it matters. See, we know Wille was being sincere but Simon regains his footing here because this could potentially sound like a dig, and he's prepared for those so he remarks along the lines of "Oh yeah? So why didn't you say anything?", which brings us to:

"I'm not allowed to talk politics." And it's the way Wille says this, hesitantly, like he's painfully aware of the hypocrisy and he's ashamed of it. It rearranges Simon's view of him because it seems like Wille knows he's part of a bullshit establishment and he's not blissfully partaking of its privileges with no awareness or care. Wille is very much not like Simon had imagined he would be.

And then! Wille goes to leave and he almost drops his fork. Final dart, straight to the heart, Simon's fate is sealed: this guy's goofy.

And that, my friends, is how you go from Simon's mortal enemy to Simon's crush in the span of less than 2 minutes.

[cloudzoro]

You're cuddled up against your boyfriend, Tsukishima, as a christmas movie neither of you are paying attention to plays in the background. When you look up at him you see he's already staring at you. His soft side is reserved for select people, so seeing the smile on his face as he gazes at you makes your stomach twist.

“You ok?” you ask when he refuses ro look away from you. He answers your question with one of his own.

“When did you first fall in love with me?”

The question shocks you so take a moment to think. There's been so many moments over the last few years when you've realised how much love you have in your heart for this man. There is one, from before you were even together, that stands out to you.

“A few weeks after we first met”

“that soon?” he asks.

“are you saying you didn't fall in love with me quickly?” you responded in mock offence.

“no, I fell in love with you at first sight,” he says, completely serious. The firm statement silences your dramatics immediately. “but I was such an asshole when we first met, I thought it would've taken you a lot longer to warm up to me”

He's not entirely wrong but you shake your head and he wordlessly turns off the television to prove to you that he's paying attention. You shift to get a little more comfortable before you start the story of the day you fell for him.

You set up to start working in the cafe on your university campus, you hear a pair of footsteps approach the counter and turn to see Tsukishima leaning on it.

"I know your shift doesn't start for another 10 minutes but can I please can I get a coffee or something, I'm exhausted" he looks as if he were attempting to look cool and intimidating but he's failing miserably. He stumbles over his words and almost loses his balance as his arm slips on the counter. He turns red in embarrassment but you think he looks cute. The nervous dork is way more appealing to you than the cold asshole - even if the whole tsundere thing is hot.

"Of course, it'll be our little secret," you say, turning to start making his drink. you're not usually this forward but you're enjoying making the stoic man flustered. "So what did you want?" At first, he mumbles, almost ashamed of his order. He usually doesn't care about the opinion of others but the idea of you laughing at him makes his stomach feel funny. When you lean a little closer to hear him, it makes his chest feel tight. He repeats his order carefully so he doesn't completely fuck up his sentence.

"I'll have a caramel iced latte," he says, waiting to see your reactions. His friends like to make fun, saying they expected him to get a black coffee and be done. You smile and nod at him before starting to line his cup with caramel sauce. He watches you make his drink with a small smile. Despite how awkward things were right now, he likes the idea of seeing you every morning.

You turn around with his drink and jokingly ask if he has a sweet tooth but the way he subtly looks you up and down when he says yes makes you nervous and you clumsily drop his drink. His eyes widen at the noise and he immediately feels bad for pathetically attempting to flirt with you. He rounds the counter, wordlessly helping you clean up. He mutters a quiet apology, fearing he made you uncomfortable but he relaxes a little when you laugh it off. You make him another drink and he insists that if you're not going to let him pay for this one then you should let him pay for the one you dropped. You cave and take his money. As he leaves you ask if he'll be here at the same time tomorrow and even though he doesn't answer, his smile says he will.

“that's it? I completely and utterly humiliated myself in front of you!” he says, pulling you from your own imagination.

“Yeah you did but it was cute. You showed me part of the real Tsukki” you coo ruffling his hair which earns you a sarcastic eye roll from your boyfriend. The action pulls a laugh from you which Tsukishima can't help but mirror. Seeing you happy makes him happy. “You are a little nerd tho” you add, provoking the blonde to playfully wrestle you onto your back. He raises his eyebrow as a dare to try pushing him even further but you just simply decide to ask him a question instead.

“Did you really fall in love with me at first sight?” you ask. His cheeks flush red as he averts his gaze.

“As soon as you walked through the classroom door I was a goner” he says, putting his weight on you so he could hide his face in your neck. You're about to respond when the alarm you set buzzes signalling it's midnight. The date flashes on your lock screen and you look up at your boyfriend with a grin on your face. “Merry Christmas, Baby” he says leaning in to kiss you.

“Merry Christmas Kei”

[blue-sadie]

Back Off

Jealous Neteyam x Girlfriend Reader

Summary: seeing people hit on you is making his nerves stand on edge especially when they do that infront of him

Warning: protective neteyam, breeding, aged up characters

Yn/3rd person pov

I shifted uncomfortably as the boy stared at me his eyes filled with lust "I'm with neteyam" I murmured making him roll his eyes and lick his lips.

"He doesn't have to know, and if you were my mate I wouldn't let you out my sight" he said bashfully and grabbed my wrist pulling me to him.

I gasped and tried stepping away but he held strong "she's in my sight" the boys body tensed as he heard neteyam behind him.

His hold on me immediately released causing me to stammer backwards "now I suggest you step away from my mate before I make you" neteyam growled.

The boy just nodded his head before running off with his tail between his legs, I turned my gaze to neteyam and watched as he rolled his shoulders back to untense them.

"Thank you" I murmured and walked up to him and wrapped my arms tightly around him and rested my head against his chest.

"Did he hurt you my love" neteyam asked as he moved his hand to guide me to look up at him, his eyes staring deeply into mine.

I shook my head making him sigh in relief "I shouldn't have left you" he sighed and layed a gentle kiss on my forehead "no he said have learned proper manners" I growled my gaze trailing to where the boy left.

Neteyam agreed his hold tightening around me "but it seems no boys in the village have manners around you" he muttered laying his head on top of mine "are you saying I'm the problem" I sassed pulling away from him making him roll his eyes.

"You know what I ment" he murmured and grabbed my hand as we began walking further into the jungle "your too attractive" he bit his lip before continuing "I want everyone to know your mine and stop fucking with you" he muttered.

I watched his jaw clench as we fell into silence I could tell he was thinking about it intensely I opened my mouth to speak but instead a gasp of shock left it as neteyam pushed me up against the closet tree, his eyes filled with something I can't quite describe.

"I need to fucking engrave my name across your fucking chest so they know" he growled he was angry his breath was uneven his chest heaving as he stared down at me with feral eyes.

I should be ashamed at how I feel, I pushed my thighs together as I felt myself wetten fuck I love him like this.

"Maybe I should just leave bite marks along your body" he muttered forcing my head back against the tree to show him my unmarked neck, I whined my head filling with all different ideas he could do to me but my mind kept coming back to one breeding.

"Breed me" I gasped out making him stare at me intense as if analyzing me to make sure I understood what I was saying "what" he breathed out releasing my neck so I could look at him.

I blushed looking away as a sadden wave of shyness took over me he gently brought my face to look at him his feralness disappearing from his eyes.

"Are you sure" he murmured looking deeply into my eyes, I nodded eagerly "we started talking about starting a family" I whispered, his eyes trailed up and down my body the glint of his feralness coming back.

"I hoped you'd say that" he growled before shoving his mouth to mine in a rough kiss, his body pressed up against mine and he grinded his hips to mine making us both moan at the contact "fuck baby" he growled against my lips.

His hands slowly crept under my clothes tagging at the stings making them fall to the floor, my body shivered at the coldness "c'mere" he whispered and slowly guided me to the floor with him covering me as he slowly moved his lips to my neck.

"N-nete" I whined as he sucked on my skin and my hands wrapped themselves around his neck, he grinned against my skin as his hands moved down to his loincloth pushing it aside letting his hard cock come out.

"I'm gonna get you pregnant baby" he smirked as he ran his cock up and down my slit making my body tense "please" I begged wrapping my legs around him too.

He chuckled at my begging and slowly pushed himself inside, I cried out in pleasure as he got in "fuck baby" he muttered before slowly started moving in and out.

He watched my every expression and slowly started going faster praising me every few minutes our moans of pleasure mixed together and my nails slowly started to scratch into his skin from the pleasure.

His thrusts were powerful making me jolt everytime he pushed in "n-netetam" I moaned pushing my head into his shoulders as tears of pleasure started rolling down my cheeks.

"Fuck your gonna look so fucking good pregnant" he panted, we were both getting close he could feel me start to clench around him and I felt him start to pulse.

"Wait for me baby" he groaned making me whine as I felt my stomach start to tighten "h-hurry" I cried out making him thrust into me harder.

"Cum now" he yelled out making me release a scream of my own as we cam his cum shooting inside me.

We layed their panting I in silence with neteyam just looking down at me the look of wildness gone from his eyes.

"I'm glad you said yes to becoming my mate I don't think I could've done it with anyone else"

Tag.List

@erenjaegerwifee @greekgods15 @neteyamyawne @sweetirilly

[midnightmah07]

Happy birthday to my oc: Perse Achillea!!

"As a lover of art myself I am very much looking forward to this museum's centenary... Come. I'm sure there's a bunch of stuff to see."

"It's foolish to try and open yourself to someone like that, poor girl's gonna get her heart broken... Not that I care. It's her fault anyway."

Happy birthday to my baby, Perse<33 I didn't write any vignettes because I didn't feel like writing BUT I made voice lines and a duo magic dialogue between her and Cater<33

Voice lines:

🪻: I wasn't prepared for just how absolutely grand and majestic this place is... Wow.

🪻: wha- hey, stop tugging on my sleeve, I don't want you getting my jacket all wrinkled, 'kay?

🪻: goodness me... Wait here, I think Mimosa (Cater -> mimosa is a type of flower that means "I hide my feelings") forgot his phone's flash on.

🪻: the King of The Underworld is so similar yet so different from Idia... Heh. I assume he was probably way more pleasurable to be around though (laughs).

🪻: imagine falling for a 'hero' whose only quality was his strength, talk about poor taste in men... The King of the Underworld's assistant should've been ashamed. But then again, I don't think I have the right to talk.

🪻: is that...? (Sighs) please don't tell me Aster (Kalim -> aster is a flower, its white version means "I love you more than you love me!") is trying to convince Ortho to drag us to another party after this... I cannot eat nearly anything because I'm vegan...

🪻: have you seen Dahlia (Vil -> dahlias are a type of flower that symbolize perseverance and determination) around? I want to take a picture of him and the Fairest Queen's portrait. It'll be my most prized possession.

🪻: this outfit is so absolutely stunning! I really do hope they let us keep it, I would love to wear it once again.

🪻: hm? You saw a painting of hyenas overpowering The King of Beasts...? (Smirks) oh, please do show, I would just love to share such image with Calendula (Leona -> calendulas are a type of flower that symbolizes insecurity, jealousy and anxiety).

🪻: Mimosa got me these really cute stickers of The Great Seven. I wonder where I should put them...

🪻: oops, sorry 'bout that. Weak ankles and stuff.

🪻: all these paintings are so detailed... What? You're curious about my art abilities? Nah, most I can do is a stick figure, my strength is in acting.

DUO:

Perse: let's go, Mimosa!

Cater: at your service, Persie!

[harrystylesfan2686]

Thirst For Blood

Pairing: Azriel x Reader.

Summary: What happens when you finally escape one prison, only to be locked in another for merely surviving...

Warnings: Mentions of slavery and torture (nothing descriptive). Blood (ig)

A/N: This is probably my longest writing yet. I'm so proud of myself for this one. I tried writing in 2nd POV after the results of survey done by @leafsandstarlight so i apologise in advance if the povs change suddenly mid sentence. I did my best to edit out the mistakes but if there are some left still, do tell me and I'll correct them right away. I love this one and I hope you do too. 🫶💕

Masterlist

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

The soft cracks of fallen twigs fills the silence spread across the forest. The wounds on your bare feet had finally stopped flowing blood. It didn't really mattered though, considering you were covered with it.

The streaks of dried blood coming out of your mouth lined all the way down to your chest, soaking through the torn material. The dress shirt and pants you had stolen from your very first kill had been ruined, having constantly walked for weeks. Covered with dirt and blood that now appeared dark brown.

You didn't know where you were going, only that you had to keep walking, running away as far as you can from the place you left behind.

You saw something move behind you and froze. You turned and held your breath, looking around, hoping for an animal or something to jump up and attack you. After what felt like ages but was probably a minute, your shoulders sag in relief when you didn't see anything unusual.

You turned to continue down your path but gasped when you saw a male right in front of you. Tan skin with black short hair atop his head, adorned in leather and blue stones. Not normal stones, you realized, Siphones.

You hadn't even had a chance to think about what to do now, before he twists his wrist at your direction and a black shadow comes out in a blur, hitting you on your forehead hard enough for the world to turn into darkness in you eyes and you fall unconscious.

-☆-

Azriel paced around the dark room, frowning at the females body asleep on the floor in front of him. The shackles around her hands and legs were bound to prevent her from running or pulling any tricks when she wakes up. It's been hours since he brought her here and imprisoned her, he realized. And she still hasn't woken up.

He has been trying to catch her for a long time, longer than what it normally takes him to find his targets. The creature that's been killing fae left and right. Draining every drop of blood from her victims and leaving the bodies for everyone to find.

She's been moving from one Court to another without leaving any trace of who or what she is. Never letting anyone predict her next move. It has thrown every Court into a spiral, not know what kind of creature has been killing their people everyday.

Azriel has been searching for the monster–her for a while. It took him a lot more time then it should. Always coming up blank while predicting what she was and what it's–hers next move would be. He was starting to question his position as the Spymaster, starting to feel ashamed every time he couldn't give Rhys the information he needed even though Rhys assured him multiple times that it's alright.

But now he knows.

He finally has the answer to all his questions. Finally found the only thing that kept him awake long into the nights, wondering why he couldn't perform his best this time. He felt as if he could finally breath freely again, without feeling abashed.

But as he watched her for hours, waiting for her to wake and using that time to observe her. How peaceful she looked and her calm features and clothes made him question himself, again. He's started to feel agitated. Maybe he made a mistake. Maybe she isn't the one he was after, all this time. But the one thing that stopped him from releasing her was the dried blood on her body. It seemed almost black from the darkness of the dungeons.

The wind in the room moved when a dark cloud formed and Rhysand stepped out. The energy in the room calmed to an eeire silence before he looked at Azriel and raised an eyebrow,"Still not awake?".

The shadowsinger shaked his head and sighed,"I don't know what's wrong. I didn't hit her with much force, just enough to make her faint for a few hours."

Rhys hummed and moved towards her sleeping form, staring at her for a few minutes before crouching down, raising a hand and placing it down on her head.

-☆-

You woke up with a startle and let out a small yelp at the sight of a male touching you. You scrambled back going as far as you can before your back hits a wall, breathing loud and fast while switching your gaze between the two male in front of you.

The one who was crouched in front of you stood and moved back, standing beside the male that was already stood with his hands crossed. Wait. You've seen him. He is the one that took you from the forest, the one with siphones straped to his body, seven siphones, you counted. They glowed so bright in the darkness. You forced yourself to look at your surroundings. A small room with four walls, a window on one of them and a metal door on another. A table in the middle on which a siphone–less male was now leaning against.

Your hands felt heavy when you tried to lift them, looking down and feeling the weight of the shackles locked on your hand and legs. The chains on them were small, enough to stand but not run. The air left your lungs and you felt like blood drained from you body when you realized where you were.

A torture chamber.

No no no.

Not again. You had just got out of one. You refuse to be locked up again. Anger filled your body as you looked up at your captures and snarled. "Release me!" You demanded.

The siphon male narrowed his eyes while the other's lips thinned in a straight line. The disappointment clearly displayed on both of their faces.

"No." Said the narrow eyed. And before you could speak again, the other one extended his hands as though calming a wild beast and said,"How about we start with introductions? I'm Rhysand, the High Lord of Night Court." His then pointed at the siphoned one,"This is Azriel, The Spymaster of Night Court." He gave a gentle smile which you knew was fake and asked,"And you are?"

Rhysand. Azriel. The High Lord and Spymaster. Night Court. Prythian. Right. I am in Prythian.

Your expression soften and eyes widen when you realized how far you've travelled. You were at the very top Court of Prythian. Did you really walk all the way through the continent without even realizing it?

Rhysand cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows in a silent demand to answer him. You swallowed a lump, wincing when you felt your throat sore and scratchy from dryness. You opened you mouth and told them you name, feeling a lot calmed then you did a minute ago. Rhysand's eyes widens as he looks at you as if he hadn't expected you to answer. "Will you answer a few of our questions?" You nod slowly.

"First of all. What are you?" You frown upon hearing his question but then relax looking at him. Of course he doesn't know.

"I'm a Vampire." You answered. Both their faces shocked and you sigh. Feeling the weight of your life on your shoulders. Azriel composes himself the next second but the High Lord's mouth still agaped a for longer than a minute.

"That's not possible. Vampires aren't real, they're a folklore created by ancients to scare the younglings." It's Azriel that says it this time, shaking his head in disbelief. His voice oddly comforting and you lean your head against the wall closing your eyes for a second. "And even if they were, they are extinct. They haven't been seen in a Millennium."

"So were Seers. But they came back too, didn't they? Even if only one." You open my eyes and raise an eyebrow.

"Yes. And im not going to ask how you know that but that's because a female was thrown into the cauldron and it gave her powers." Rhysand states.

"Exactly." You say. "The cauldron made her a fae and gave her powers, along with her sister. And I know because I've heard about you, high lord. The one who stole Spring's wife." You laugh softly. "It's absured what they say about you."

Rhysand's jaw clench.

"Calm down. I'm not making fun of you." You gave an apologetic expression.

"How are you a vampire? Have you been hiding all this time?" Azriel winces as he says, probably cringing at how crazy his words sound.

"Couldron made me a Vampire when I was pushed into it. Since I was already fae, I became the creature who feeds on blood to live. I was transformed in hybern, been made one of the King's experiments." You explain. They both frown in confusion and share a glance while you close your eyes and rest yourself against the cold, hard wall, the exhaustion of your journey finally hitting you at once.

"How did you get here?" Azriel questioned.

"I used my powers."

"What, exactly, are your powers?" It's was Rhysand this time.

"Compulsion. I can compell anyone to do anything I want."

"Is that how you hid yourself? Killing or compeling the people, who saw you?"

You finally straighten your neck, giving them your full attention and raise an eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious? I compell the people to forgot they saw me." Rhys' body tenses as that. "You can control minds?" His calm tone shealing the panick and anger behind it.

"Not exactly minds. I can control your consciousness by looking into your eyes and ordering you." They shared a glance, unsure to believe you or not.

"Don't think im telling the truth?" You tilt my head towards the shadowsinger. "I can show you." Azriel assessed you cautiously and nodded once.

You peered into his yellow onyx eyes, the gold flickering in them can be seen clearly even from the distance between you both. Concentrating on energy thuming beneath your mind, your iris' expand as you give the order,"You'll do as I say."

His face cleared of any feelings, his expression bland as he repeated,"I'll do as you say."

"Take off my binds." You lift your hands and the corner of you lips quirk up.

His eyes widen,"No!" He exclaimed but his feet moved on their own, seeming as if they were they're own person. He stopped in front of you and sat on his toes, hands moving to your restrins. "What the fuck?" He barked.

"Azriel stop!" The High Lord ordered, stepping behind him and held onto his shoulders, trying to get him away from you. Azriel didn't budge.

"Stop." You spoke, pulling your hands back toward you before he actually opened your chains. Azriel stood and took a big step away from you, finally in control of himself. He and Rhysand breathing hard, staring at you in disbelief. "Believe me now?"

A moment of silence passed, no one speaking anything before Rhysand cleared his throat,"How–," He shaked his head slightly. "When did you became a vampire?"

"I'm not quite sure of the time. All I know is that when you killed the king, I ran and came here." You shrug.

"Tell us everything." He ordered, the traces of a gentle man gone, leaving only the authority of a high lord. "You said 'experiment'. What do you mean by that?"

"You don't think he just threw the high lady's sister in there and hoped for the best did you?" Your lips thinned. "He tried it at first, obviously. Trying to see if his theory actually worked. Since he couldn't throw in humans, he bought fae slaves like me and drowed us in the Couldron. He drowned one fea at a time. The first two didn't survive but he didn't give up hope. When the third subject resurfaced, he was overjoyed. Thinking it finally worked but all that hope was destroyed when he crawled out of the Couldron and died a few minutes later.

The forth subject the same as before but the fifth survived. She came out a dragon, being able to exchange skin for scales and pikes, hands to wings, and breath fire when angry. The king locked her up and tortured her, trying to check how strong she was. She lived a full month but at the end died of bloodloss." You sucked in a sharp breath, preparing yourself for further.

"The sixth subject came out looking normal. But everyone quickly realized they had made a mistake calling her a fail when she looked at a person and that person turned stone. She was executed the second she turned the gaurd stone. I don't know details more than this because as I said we were never transformed at the same time. I heard all this in small pieces of information, listening to the guards that were stationed to my cell, talk.

I was the seventh subject. The only fae who was weak enough to torture and strong enough to keep alive. They beat us, burn us, and tortured us in ways I couldn't even imagine were possible. I had a better of it though because not long after I was turned, you killed that king in war. When I heard the he was dead and the castle was in mayhem, I ran. I ran and compelled my way out of Hybern and into Prythian, in hopes of finding a better life." You gave them a lopsided smile and sigh.

"You killed innocent people in the process. You murdered your way through our land." Azriel finally spoke and the look in his eyes as he looked at you was pure rage.

"I was weak. I was hungry. I couldn't control my hunger, I didn't know how to. When I fed on those people, I planed to just take a sip of thier blood and leave. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't control myself in the few killings. I would never kill a person on purpose. I never want to harm anyone. And after I was strong enough, I did learn to control. I fed, compelled and ran." You tried to explain yourself but it seemed clear he didn't believe you.

"You could've used your power to get out of here the second you woke up. Why didn't you?" He abruptly changed the topic. You swallow a lump.

"As I said, I don't want to harm anymore people."

You turned to the high lord and said,"I won't hurt anymore people. You have my word. I just want my freedom. A peaceful life is all I want." You plead.

"How do we know you're not lying?" Azriel asked in an irritated tone. I glaced at him and said to Rhysand,"You can look into my head. If you find that I'm laying, you can kill me right here and never let me walk out alive. I'll accept whatever punishment you give. I promise you I'm saying the truth." You considered begging at this point if it got you free.

Rhysand looked at Azriel, The two of them held each others gaze for a minute without saying anything, having an unspoken conversation. Your eyes skipped between them, confused because they weren't even blinking.

Suddenly, Rhysand turned to you, stepping near and put a hand on your head. He either didn't notice the dirt in your locks or didn't care. You gasped feeling a dark shadow within you soul, you winced and shut your eyes because it felt almost painful, not so much that you couldn't handle it but enough to steal you focus only to the shadow digging around your subconscious. Your body locked itself in the position you were sitting in. You couldn't do anything but sit there and let the high lord examine your thoughts.

After what felt like forever Rhysand finally stepped back and sighed. The relief of body finally back to your control almost made you drop to the ground but you kept yourself composed. Breathing heavy and looking up to the high lord, you raised an eyebrow, silently questioning him.

"She's telling the truth. She doesn't intent on killing anymore people." Rhysand informed Azriel and his face relaxes the slightest. "And as for your request," He told you,"Fine. I'll let you walk through Night Court," I couldn't control my smile. "But only on one condition." He raised a finger.

"Anything." You noded.

"Azriel will be with you at all times. Anywhere you go, anytime you go. He will be there. At least until we are sure to trust you won't harm our residence." Rhysand ordered and Azriel clenched his jaw.

"Alright!" You felt so happy, you could dance.

Rhysand and Azriel shared a worried glance, again but you were too in your own joyful world to realize. You are finally free. You closed your eyes and rested you head on the wall, the smile on your face refusing to go.

I am finally free.

-☆-

Azriel watched with skeptical eyes as you practically skipped through the road. You both were on your way to a small bakery Feyre had suggested.

When you were taken out of the dungeons, the High Lady of Night Court had arried there complaining how long her mate had been gone. Her eyes had widened when she took a look at you, worry clearing written in her expression. When the high lord and spymaster explained who you were and what your situation was, she immediately took it in her hands to get you comfortable.

It was weird, to be honest. You had never experienced someone being so kind and nice to you, treating you like you were important, like you mattered. Even before you were turned, your life was rough, being a slave waiting to be sold, it was expected. So yes it had been very weird.

You were transfered in a house built above a mountain. Rhysand said it was because Azriel lived there and you were always expected to be with him, but you knew the real reason. It was because the House of Wind had ten thousand steps, standing so high the if you ever tired to run, you wouldn't be able to go far without being caught or dead. But you didn't care because you never wished to run. Never wished to give them any reason not to trust you.

So you accepted your fate with a happy face. You met with High Lord's inner circle who were cautious with you, still are, but a little comfortable thsn before. You only met them once and are sure they all could kill you the second you did something wrong.

Everyday you walked with azriel around Valaris, going from one shop to another, learning the style and culture of people of Night Court. You were first a bit scared to do or touch anything in front of Azriel, not even speaking much but you have to admit, you got used to having him around. Finding him at every corner you turned to, watching you. After a while you tried to talk to him, making small talks about random things as you walk and surprisingly he replied to you everytime.

Azriel didn't understand how someone can be so annoyingly curious about everything. You looked at every person, every dish of food, every single thing with so much curiosity and happiness, it made him almost angry. The smile of your face hadn't left for a second since they released your shackles. It was like walking with a bubble full of pure contentness.

Your eyes widen in excitement as you pointed to a bakery in front of you. "There is it!" You took your hand in his and walked faster, almost ran to the door of the small shop. He opened the door and stepped aside to let you in first and closed it behind you both.

You smile impossibly wide as you take in the pink interior. A few tables spread across the left side of the shop with even fewer people sitting on them and the right filled with freezers that contained verities of sweets. From cakes and pastries to cookies and different breads, everything looked so delicious, you can't possibly choose what to taste first.

"Good morning darlings, what can I get you?" The lady behind the cash counter asked with a smile.

"I apologise but I can't decide. Why dont you suggest me something?" You gave a smile.

"Alright do you like chocolate?" She asked. You opened you mouth to reply but stop, trying to remember if you've ever tasted chocolate. You don't think you have. Well guess you'll if you like it now. "Sure." You smiled.

When the lady asked Azriel what he wanted he just said that he doesn't want anything. You both go to sit in one of the empty tables on the very left corner, taking the seat opposite to one another. There is a widow right next to you from which you glimpse at every person walking through the road.

While you observe outside the window, Azriel observes you, thinking how can anyone be so energetic all the damn time. He thinks of how you look so different than how he first saw you, covered in so much filth, and now your skin is as clear as water. Your eyes and lips so perfect, he can admire you for days without stopping. The one thing he's sure is amazing, is the joy in your eyes, he swears you could have the deadliest disease and still be happy.

He breath catches for a second when you turn to him, realizing he had just been caught ogling you. He expected you to frown in discomfort or turn to the other way trying to avoid him but he stopped breathing entirely when he sees you smile even brighter at him. The blush on you cheeks and sparkle in your eyes fading away the rest on the world around you.

His focus entirely on how breathtakingly beautiful you are.

The moment shatters when a girl in aprone comes in with a dish and places it between you both, muttering a small enjoy and going away, leaving them alone again.

"I've never had chocolate before. I'm not sure if I'll like it or not." You quietly admitted. Azriel tried not to let his surprise show as he digested the information. Of course you never had chocolate, you were a slave most of your life. He mentally rolled eyes at himself.

You picked up the spoon and scoped a small piece of the brown substance. You put it in your mouth and instanty let out a small moan at the taste. Sweetness explods in your mouth as you chewe, digging in for the rest of the cake immediately.

Azriel tried to ignored what that moan did to his body. He tried to suppress the smile itching to appear on his lips as he watched you eat the piece of cake in utter amusement. The chocolate covered you lips and you tounge poked out the lick in clean. You finished the cake and beamed at him. "One more, please?"

Azriel's lips turn up at the corner as he gestured the waiter for one more pastry. He noticed the end of your lips still brown. "You still have chocolate on your face." He stated and pointed at his own lips, trying to show the exact place. Your hand came up and wiped the opposite end. "Better?" You asked. He shaked his head. "The opposite." You wiped it almost cleaned but missed a spot. You raised you eyebrows, silently questioning him again.

He sighed and reached his hand to your face and wiped the rest clean. His fingers felt rough against your soft skin. You intake a sharp breath feeling fire ignited against your skin as he moved his hand back. He then pulls his thumb near his mouth and open his mouth to lick the chocolate off. His eyes held your gaze for a heated moment and you forgot how to breath.

The moment interrupted when the waiter came in again. Bringing in the second dish of chocolate cake you ordered, though before she could rest it on the table, someone pushed her, causing her to lose footing and drop the dish, shattering it to the ground. A hundred broken pieces of ceramic glass spread through the floor and she spoke out a curse. Bending down to pick up the pieces, she repeated apologises under her breath, but as she picked up one sharp pieces, the sharp edge cut through her skin and she instanty dropped it and gasped. The small cut deep enough to gush out a trail of crimson blood.

You tense as the smell of blood fills the room faster than anything. You close your eyes and try to control but the smell is so strong you feel hunger hit you all over your body. Azriel quickly stood up and grabed you, standing you up too as you both quickly get out of the shop, you running as fast as you can from the desire to feed on that poor girl until you feel her limp in your arms.

Azriel pulled you in a dark ally beside the walk way, placing your back against the wall and resting both of his hands beside your head. You press your eyes with both hands trying to think of something else, anything other then the beautiful scarlet liquid ready to be suck on just a few steps away.

"How are you feeling?" Azriel doesn't mention how he feels proud of you that you controlled yourself enough to get out after not drinking blood for so long.

"Hungry." You growl, trying to distract yourself by thinking.

"You need to distract yourself."

You scoff. "You think im not already trying." You snapped at him, not even in enough mindset to feel bad. Your head hangs low as you reach to your hair, pulling as hard as you can. Pain. Yes that's what's going to distract you.

Azriel licked his lips. "I have an idea but I'm not sure you'll like it." He whispered.

"I don't care if I like it not. If you have something to calm me then act on it!" You finally lowered your hands and glared at him.

Azriel felt speechless as he looked at you. Your irises glowed red and veins that coloured black and purple pulsed around you eyes. Your mouth in a snral, showing off you pointed canine that stood out proudly with sharpest edge amongst the other teeth. You looked deadly as though you could kill him this very second without a problem.

It made him want you even more.

Pushing every doubt out of his head he slam his lips to yours. You mouth open in a gasp and he used it to his advantage, pushing his tounge in your mouth. You returned the kiss with a sigh, pushing yourself into him, hands in his hair and tougne tied with his. His one arm wrapped around you waist and other behind you neck pushing your head upwards to deepen to kiss.

You both kept your lips to the other until what felt like forever. Finally pulling back and opening your eyes to find him already looking at you. The hunger you felt now was of a entirely different reason than before the kiss. The gaze you shared was a lot more than desire, it was raw and intimate.

You smirked at each other.

"I hope you liked that, because we are definitely doing that again."

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

[kimhargreeves]

Ordinary World-Ken x Reader (Barbie 2023)

Summary: You've always been a one of a kind Barbie, like different things from the other girls and many considering you a bit odd. Most Barbies are the same, many of them have their own Ken but the Ken you've had your eyes on has been dating your best friend for years. (I know the movie isn't out but I had this in mind and had to write it! Wouldn't in a million years believe I would fall in love with a Ken doll.)

(I have in mind to do a series on the Barbie movie once it is out with Ken and Reader. So, I decided to write a one shot that'll be based on the series I am planning, this could be a part of the series though some parts may change. I am dying to see this new Barbie and Ryan Gosling as Ken. I myself am a goth and imagined the reader the same,but you can imagine her as you'd like. Though for the official version I think they will be a goth since I would find it cute for opposites to attract, style wise, etc.)

The world is perfect. Endless days of going around making errands and endless nights parting and every Barbie and Ken gathering around to have a fun time. The sky is always the perfect shade of blue with few clouds decorating it, every Barbie has it's perfect job and perfect home.

The streets decorated with green trees, beautiful colored flowers, pastel colored homes, and the relaxing beach with it's pale pink sand.

Always thriving to make their name known and perfecting every single thing, every Barbie is perfect, from head to toe.

Every Barbie has a Ken. Every Ken has a Barbie to show their devotion and love. Well..almost every Barbie.

"Hi Barbie!"

"Hi Barbie!"

"Hi Barbie!"

I heard the countless of Barbies waving and greeting at each other. I sat in the patio at my friend's home, she had invited me over since she wanted to throw a big party at night and I was helping her decorate the place up and organize many chairs and tables with their snacks.

Many Ken's and Barbie's would be arriving. I was done sketching on my notebooks and placed it inside my bag and continued to fill up what was rest of the pool.

"How is everything going?" Barbie asked joining me in the backyard again.

"The pool is almost finished, just a few snacks are left, choose the perfect mixtape and the party will be perfect." I answered her.

I stood tall and noticed Barbie staring at me. "Great! Everything always goes perfect. How is your job going?"

Barbie questioned making me take a step back and shake my head. "I..I.. it's complicated."

"You got fired didn't you?"

I hung my head low and felt ashamed. "Hey hey don't get all upset on me. You were probably too good for the job anyways."

"I feel horrible, Barbie. You are the most perfect person I've met, you have countless of jobs and can do anything. You've offered me many jobs and I'm just not good at it. I'll never be good at anything." I answer defeated since apparently I am not good enough for this world.

Barbie placed her hand on my shoulder making me look into her blue eyes. "No. You are a good person, (Y/N). You are my friend and I did agree on helping you in whatever you needed..You're just special is all."

"I'm different.."

"Different is good! See? I even call you by the name you chose instead of Barbie." I pout and sighed heavily and nodded my head slowly.

"You're not a burden, (Y/N). You can be whatever you want to be. Remember that."

I smiled a bit and looked back at her. "Right..let's focus on the party instead."

"Great idea! Now I have the perfect song list for the party, many friends will come over-"

Barbie definitely living a dream life. I wish I could be like her.

I am a Barbie who looks, acts and thinks differently than the rest. I chose my own name, go by my own rules, what kind of Barbie does that?

Every Barbie has it's dream house, dream career..a Ken.

Unlike them I can barely fit in a specific job, I don't own a huge house like most of them do, don't have plenty of close friends and I don't have a Ken. A companion, a lover to spend my days with them and have fun.

Every Barbie had a Ken and then there is me…

I've heard what many people have said behind my back, I'm a weird person I know. I tend to look at the dark side of life sometimes and can be a bit straightforward which leaves some people taken back from me.

I normally don't dress all cute or bright colors like the rest of the girls. I feel like I don't belong here at times.

I sometimes stay late at night wondering if outside of our Barbie world, there's more, maybe s lot more different. I will say I am more on the dreamer kind, wishing to know about more knowledge outside of here.

I've collected these books that I found a long time ago. Books that seem that wasn't made or written by someone here. There's one that has always fascinated me, it's called The Wizard of Oz. Sometimes I feel the main character of the book, Dorothy.

Being different from the rest and arriving at a strange world that seems too perfect to be true.

Aside from collecting rare items I also enjoy drawing, sketching or painting. I'm no where near perfect as the Barbie to specifies on art but I do my best.

I've sold a few around town since Barbie recommended my work to everyone, even President Barbie had a large portrait done by me in her office.

I'm not great with parties since I try to relax on my own and sketch everyone having fun. Tonight, I am planning to do the same and imagine myself in their scenario. In their perfect world.

"(Y/N)!." Barbie clapped her hands in front of me drawing my attention back to her.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Many guys will be here. Maybe, I can introduce you to a Ken." Barbie said winking and continuing to decorate the place.

"T-That won't be necessary. I'm not ready to date anyways, I'll just chill with Alan."

Aside from Barbie, I can say Alan is one of my closest friends as well, he's like a brother to me. He's unique anyways, there's just one him.

"You gotta have at least a bit of fun, I don't like seeing you sitting down at parties. Promise me you'll try at least."

I sigh and fake a smile at her, "I promise."

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

A song titled Girls Just Wanna Have Fun continued to blare through the speakers. Everyone was having lots of fun. Different shades of pink balloons adorned the backyard along with streamers and even a big piñata made in the shape of a large 'B'.

Even the refreshing drinks were pastel pink and blue colored. Barbie continued to dance along with the rest. I was sitting down by an empty table along with Alan who had a drink in his hand, "So, I asked her out and guess what she said?"

"What did she say?" I ask tilting my head and knowing exactly where this is going.

"She said yes! But, when I arrived at the cafe she wasn't there. She said she had an important meeting but we're definitely going out next week."

"Good for you, Alan." I held onto my sketchbook and continued to sketch the crowd.

"Don't you want to dance or something? You know if you're having trouble dating a guy, I can always be available for you." He awkwardly said earning a pat on his shoulder from me.

"Trust me you wouldn't want to date me. You deserve someone way better."

Alan hummed and stood up. "You're right."

"Ouch." I said not really hurt by his words but continuing to sketch.

"Well, if you need me I'll be..around." Alan quickly left leaving me on my own. I looked down at my creation and smiled when I saw how well and detailed I got everyone, I flipped the pages and landed on the one I was still finishing up.

"What you got there?" I shrieked and jumped in my spot, quickly closing my book and turning to face the familiar voice.

Ken. Barbie's Ken.

"N-Nothing! Just finishing up a project I was asked to do." I answered quickly and blushed when I looked into Ken's blue eyes and saw a charming smile spread across his face.

He looks so handsome up close! Perfect blue, eyes, perfect smile, perfect blonde hair and perfect bod-

"Cool. Can I see?" He asked all excited sitting in front of me now.

"No! I mean..You can't it's not ready yet." I said trying to come up with a lie.

"I'm not a critic by all means, but I'm sure you're doing a fine job as always." Ken said reaching over to place his hands on top of my book and I grabbed the she and began pulling it towards me and Ken did the same to try and look.

Sometimes Ken has a hard time of understanding when no means no. He's a goofball and kind of oblivious.

"Maybe just a tiny peek.."

"Ken, no!" I felt like I was speaking to a puppy, not understanding it's tricks.

"Come on, (Y/N). We're friends right? Friends gotta stick together and not hold any secrets between us."

I huffed annoyed by him but finding him extremely irresistible and cute when he acts this way. He knows his ways to charm me, well, that's what I like to think. I sat back and slid the notebook over to him.

"Yes!" He raised his fists and eagerly started to look through my sketches.

If onto he knew the truth about how I feel for him. I continue staring at him, my heart beating faster, growing nervous at what he would say once he sees my sketch of him. He'll find me weird and ask me why I drew him, he'll find out about my crush on him for sure!

Ken continued to flip thought he pages until one caught his eye. I sucked in air and was ready to hear his harsh words.

"Omg..Do I always look this handsome?" He questioned staring at the sketch and placing it right beside his face.

"You even got my nose right! Haha. Though I do say between him and me, I'm a lot more attractive."

My mouth nearly fell open. The reaction was unexpected, but what can I expect from Ken. "Is there a reason you chose me?"

"No, wait! It's because I'm your idol isn't it? It's nice to know I have a number 1 fan besides Barbie." Ken enthusiastically said and handed me my notebook back before deciding to sign his name on the same page.

Before I could grab onto the notebook Ken grabbed both my hands into his. Making me blush and surely painting my entire face red at the simple action.

Quickly I pulled my hands back and touched my cheeks trying to hide the blush on me. Ken looked surprised but didn't question it, he now chuckled and stared at me with his hand resting on his palm.

I need to a cold drink. I reached to grab a cup of pink lemonade and began to drink rapidly.

"You're honestly so talented, you just don't realize it. I know you don't like to call yourself a Barbie, but I'm surprised you haven't found a Ken or gotten married yet."

I spat my drink on him and started coughing. "Who's you okay?!" He jumped up when I did and I nodded my head.

"I'm fine! I-I'm so sorry, Ken!" I grabbed a couple of napkins and began to try to wipe his clothes since it was wet, which only made me feel his muscles instead. I blushed and pulled my hands back and apologized to Ken again.

He tilted his head looking at me weirdly. "Are you okay, (Y/N)? You're as pink as Barbie's car."

"I'm completely f-fine! But what about your shirt?" I ask concerned and Ken dug something out of a bag, another shirt and jacket, he brought along and changed right in front of me.

"I always keep spare clothes just in case things like this happen." Ken reached out to me and started to ruffle my hair.

"Don't get yourself to worried. Why don't we enjoy the party instead?" He smiled and I watched him excitedly run off to greet his girlfriend, Barbie. My best friend.

I remained staring at them and the rest enjoying themselves. They party and have fun like nothing else matters. I smiled sadly staring at Barbie and Ken dancing, I grabbed my sketchbook and started to leave the party.

Slowly the sound of music fading the more I continued to walk to my home. Hoping to someday at least someday matter to Ken, and for him to look at me different than just a friend.

[lovingmattysposts]

You don't know me 6

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P26 P27 P28 P29 P30 P31 P32

pairing: y/n and Chris sturniolo

summary: you and Chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship, mentions of self-harm marks

chris pov

I turned onto the street that Nate lived on and saw him sitting on his front porch, reluctantly. I sighed as I pulled up and his eyes met my car. He looked down at his feet as he walked to my car and attempting to shield his head from the rain falling from the sky. He opened the passenger side door and didn't say anything as he slid into the seat.

I pull away, still in silence before I couldn't take it anymore. "You're still mad aren't you?" I asked him after a few minutes of silence. He huffed and looked out the window. I glanced over at him. I shook my head. "I'm coming to your game, you know I was always gonna go" I said glancing from him to the road.

"You only want to go because pinky pie is going" Nate stated harshly. These nicknames he's got going for Y/n are getting more creative by the day. I let out a laugh. "You're my best friend Nate, I'm coming for you" I said looking at him. He looked over at me. "You mean that?" He asked. I rolled my eyes and smiled.

"You're lucky I picked your ass up this morning, causing a scene in the middle of the parking lot yesterday. I should kick your ass" I said looking at him. He smiled and shook his head. "I really didn't think you were going to show up" He laughed lightly. I shook my head.

At least Nate's not mad at me anymore, checked that one off on the list. Feels like the list keeps adding on to itself. Ever since Y/n came over yesterday. Ambushed me in my own home, drinking lemonade with my Grandpa. It was kinda of cute, but I would never admitted it out loud.

I wanted to think about how I admired her ambitious for quite literally showing up at my house, or the fact that the skirt she was wearing was so short I had to keep myself from glancing down every time she stood up, but I couldn't. Not after seeing those marks on her wrist. They were faint, like they were from a long time ago, and there were only two of them.

Still, it made me want to question her. It's a nagging feeling that I couldn't shake even after she had left, but I knew she didn't want me to ask from the way she pulled away so quickly and looked ashamed. So I didn't push it, just like she didn't push me on my past. We all have demons. We all handle them differently.

The hockey game was tomorrow. I was dreading it--sort of. I was dreading the three hour drive in gas money, but I wasn't regretting being able to see and possibly talk to Y/n. I don't know for sure if she's coming, but it at least gets me through my day. After all Nate did really want me to be there.

We pulled up to school a few minutes later. The day was long, boring, uneventful. Like every other day in high school that was until I finally saw her in the hallway. She was wearing Levi shorts, not the distressed old look, but the newer ones with a lighter wash that fit her just right. Like it was illegal to be looking at her while she wore them.

Her top hung low. It was a cut t-shirt that had hole in it, for design, and showed her stomach slightly and her bra strap. I scaled her body, I shouldn't be looking at her like this. It wasn't right. I almost turned away when I saw Max approach her. He smiled down at her and pulled her against him by her belt loops. She smiled up at him, pecking his lips. I breathed in, suppressing my anger. That could have been me last night, if I didn't have morals.

Why does she like him? Why is he so special? Is there something so amazing about him that I'm not seeing?

I shook my head turning and walking the other direction. What was I thinking? Friends? I can't be her friend. I cannot be her friend. I don't look at at Nate the way I look at her. The way I think about her. Something about her presence overwhelmed me and I wish I wouldn't. I wish I could just dismiss her from my mind. Group her in with the rest of them and move on, but I couldn't. I didn't know why.

I haven't even looked at any girls here. They were the last thing on my mind. Until she kissed me al least. I closed my eyes, I have to stop. I turned into the boys bathroom, looking at myself In the mirror.

I felt guilty almost. For feeling the way I did. Not because she had a boyfriend, or anything about her relationship, but because I liked her. It made me sick to my stomach in guilt. I turned my arm around in my mirror and looked at the rose on my bicep.

"Fuck" I cursed myself. I couldn't like her. I just couldn't.

I didn't really feel like going to class. I sighed. I should probably go to class. I turned and looked in the mirror, straightening out my hair. I actually put some products in it today to make it looks less shitty. Nate gave me shit for it this morning, but ended up agreeing that it looked better than before.

I turned and walked out of the bathroom, but right as I did I ran into someone hard. Everything they were holding went flying, including the coffee they were holding. Spilling all over the floor next to us, alongside their books.

"Fuck"

"Shit"

I reached out and steadied them as they tumbled over. The girl looked up at me. I almost smiled when I realized it was Y/n, but then I noticed her face. Her cheeks were flushed and stained with tears lines and her eyes were burned red. She was crying. I felt my heart drop. I let go over her arms and I looked at her.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's the matter?" I asked trying to look at her but she looked down at her feet. She was sporadically breathing, like she couldn't catch her breath. "I-I-" She tried to say, but she was shaking her head. The final bell rang above us, indicating we were late for class. She looked up. "Fuck" She cried. I reached down picking up her books and then handing them to her.

She took them out of my hands, trying to catch her breath.

"Here, follow me" I said looking around before grabbing her arm and leading her out to an exit. She followed behind me as I opened the door to the outside. She threw her books to the ground and walked over to the wall, placing her hands on her head as the door closed. "Fuck" She said again, looking up towards the sky. I stood from a distance for a second before I walked over to her.

"Hey, talk to me. What happened?" I asked looking at her. She was fine three minutes ago, laughing in the hallway. What could have possibly happened? I looked at her trying to get a read on her face, but she kept turning away from me. She hid her face in her hands.

She wiped under her eyes and attempted to take a deep breath, but she start to cry again into her hands. I reached forward grabbing her arm and pulling her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her as she cried. I didn't know why she was crying, but I knew it probably wasn't good.

She sighed and dropped her hands and leaned her head on my chest. I put my hand on her head, rubbing her hair. She groaned and sighed. I leaned her back from me. She stopped crying but she looked up at me sadly. I reached down and wiped the tears under eyes with my thumb, without thinking. My hand froze on her face and I quickly retracted it.

"Sorry" I whispered. She smiled and looked down. I smiled from her smile. She sighed before walking over the side of the wall and sliding down it until she sat against it. I frowned and walked over to her sitting down next to her. She just looked forward out onto the parking lot.

"What'd he do?" I asked looking at her. Assuming that her dickhead of a boyfriend did something. She smiled and looked at me and shook her head. "I didn't say it was about Max" She whispered, pulling her legs up against her chest. I looked at her, pursing my lips.

She just looked back at me. It killed me to see her like this. To see her upset. Even though one of my favorite activities is to get under her skin. I never wanted to see her cry. She looked down at her feet.

"I'm suppose to go to dinner with Max's entire family tonight" She breathed looking down at her feet as she spoke, but my eyes were locked on her. My heart was beating out my chest as I looked at her. She took a deep breath.

"He asked me who let me walk out of the house looking like this" She said looking down still. "That I was dressed like a hooker. That I was a Labraut and I better start acting like one" She said shaking her head. I felt anger start to rise up in me. My jaw clenched.

"He said that he couldn't be seen with me, not while I was wearing this. That he had a status to uphold" She said starting to cry again and rolled her eyes. "He said he didn't want people to think that he allowed me to dress this way and that if I showed up tonight wearing something like this it would embarrass him in front of his whole family and I should just not come at all" She said her lip quivering and leaning her against the wall.

Wow I could kill him. No, I'm going to kill.

I looked forward clenching my jaw. Feeling my hands start to clench up into a fist. I let out a breath, before starting to stand up. She reached up grabbing my arm. I looked down at her. Tears started streaming down her face.

"No, please. Don't" She said looking at me. Like she knew what I was going to do before I said anything. I sighed looking at the door and then at her. She shook her head.

I don't think beating up her boyfriend would do her any good. She probably needs me more here right now than hunting Hastings down in the school. I sighed and sat back down next to her. I grabbed my bag that was near us and reached into it grabbing some napkins I put in there earlier and handing them to her. She took them.

"Thanks" She sighed wiping her face with it. She looked at me. "Why do you have napkins in your bag?" She asked looking at me. I smiled and shrugged. "Just incase you forget my address and needed it again" I said looking at her. She smiled and me and then at the napkin, before leaning back against the wall.

"Why are you with him?" I asked suddenly. My mouth just saying what it wanted. She sniffed, wiping her nose. "I love him" She said quietly. My eyebrows furrowed. "No, you don't" I said looking at her. She looked at me. "Yes, I do" She said back angrily.

"Y/n, look at you. You can't love someone who treats you like this" I said looking at her. Her jaw tightened. She slapped the napkins down before standing up. I watched her as she grabbed her bag. "Thanks for the napkins, asshole" She mumbled starting to walk away. I hated watching her walk away.

I sighed quickly standing up. "Y/n wait" I said walking towards her. She stopped and looked at me. "I didn't mean to make you upset" I sighed. She bit her lip and looked down. "I just don't like seeing you like this" I said looking at her. She sighed, wiping her eyes again.

"I've got to get to class" She whispered leaning down and picking up her books. I leaned down to help her, handing her down the last one. She smiled and took it. I reached into my pocket taking out a pack of cigarettes. She looked down at my hand before reaching down and taking them out of my hand. I looked up at her before she threw them in her bag.

"Hey" I said glaring at her. "Stop smoking these, they are bad for you" She smiled slightly. I bit my lip and shook my head before she opened the door disappearing into the hallway. I sighed and leaned back against the wall outside.

-

Y/n pov

"Are you done?" I finally snapped. Max looked down at me shocked as we walked to his car. I know I shouldn't have said it, but God if I had to listen to him say one more thing I was going to do a lot worse than just snap at him. He scoffed and shook his head.

"It's just-i've never seen you wear anything like this before. The shorts are ridiculous" He said. My jaw clenched. His words earlier upset me yes, but now he was just pissing me off. I bit my tongue as we approached his car. He popped the trunk to his car as I started to walk to the passenger seat.

"What the fuck?" He yelled causing me to stop and turn around. He looked pissed. He moved stuff around in his trunk before slamming his bag down I jumped from the movement and looked at him.

"Are you fucking kidding me? I just put those extra pucks in my car. Where the hell are they?" He yelled looking at me. I bit back a smile as I looked past Max and saw Chris leaning up against his car, with a devilish smile plastered on his face. I shook my head and smiled at him. He just smirked before opening his car door. Of course, Chris.

"Coach asked me to pick them up before the game tomorrow, he's going to kill me" He groaned placing his hands on his forehead. I put my hand on my face, acting like I was rubbing my face but in reality was hiding a smile. I leaned on Max and laced our arms together.

"It's okay babe, the games not until tomorrow. You still have time" I said. He shook me off him and then slammed his trunk shut before walking over to the drivers side door, mumbling to himself. I rolled my eyes. He's so dramatic. I walked over and got into his car.

An un harmful revenge. Well played Chris.

We drove a little bit down the road before Max finally calmed down enough before speaking again. "What time do I need to pick you up tonight?" He asked as he stared off towards the road. I crossed my arms over my chest. "Don't worry about it, I'm not coming" I breathed, not looking at him. His head snapped towards me, but I didn't look at him.

"What are you talking about Y/n? You are coming" He said almost as a command. I scoffed. Normally I would never say anything like this to him, but recently I've felt the need to stand up fro myself. If I want things to get better for Max and I, I had to stop letting him push me around. Because I care about this relationship, I'm changing it.

"No I'm not, you told me you didn't want me to come, so I'm not coming. Plain and simple" I stated looking at him. His jaw clenched. I probably shouldn't have decided to start standing up fro myself on a day like today, when he was this angry, but my mouth couldn't catch up.

"I said I didn't want you to come if you showed up wearing that, I assumed you would change before tonight" He said harshly. I shrugged, looking out of the window.

"What the hell is up with you lately? Why are you acting like this all of the sudden?" He questioned me. I looked over at him, starting to get angry myself. "Maybe I'm tired of you pushing me around Max. This relationship goes two ways, I'm tired of you treating me like someone who just stands beside you to make you look better." I spat at him. I was. It was true. He rolled his eyes.

"You're acting like a child" He said. I shook my head. Maybe I was acting like a child, but he was the one treating me like one. Better to just play the damn part. Chris didn't treat me like a child. He treated me like an actual person with feelings and ideas. I stared back out of the window, just wanting to be home.

There was this long windy road that we had to take in order to get to my house, there was normally never anyone on them. I watched as we passed the trees lining the road. The tress started to move faster. My eyebrows furrowed. And faster. I looked over at Max but his face was hard and he was looking straight forwards. I looked up as I realized just how fast we were actually going.

"Max" I stated as I looked back at him. There was a turn coming up that he would never be able to make if he was going this fast. He didn't respond. I swallowed. I heard as he pressed on the gas harder and the engine revved louder in response. I grabbed his arm.

"Max stop!" I yelled as I held onto his arm. No response. The turn was getting closer and my heart was beating out of my chest as I looked over at the speedometer going up by the second. I felt tears start to brim at my eyes as the trees were passing us so fast you couldn't even make them out anymore.

"Max stop please! I'll go, I'll go! I'll change! Just please slow down!" I cried loudly. Suddenly his foot let off the gas and he slowed down enough to be able to make out the trees again and enough to make the turn at the end of the street.

I let go of his arm and fell back into my chair. I crossed my arms and looked out the window and wiped a tear that fell down my cheek. My breathy was unsteady as I grabbed the seatbelt waiting until I arrived home, but even then my heart was still beating.

I closed my eyes and thought of Chris. I thought of how calm he made me. How I felt safe with him. How he would never make me feel this way.

A few minutes later we arrived at my house. I opened the door and grabbed my bag. "I'll pick you up at 6" He said. I just looked at him before stepping out and slamming the door to his car. I shook my head as I walked up to my house.

I can't believe he put me in a position like that. He's never scared me like that before. I walked up the steps to my house, successfully escaping my parents. I laid down on my bed, finally being able to return my heartbeat to normal. The one time I try to stand up for myself. I guess my mother was right.

-

The dinner was boring. I was bored at least. I didn't want to be there at all. I wore a dress that went down past my knees and had a high neck line. Max was pleased at my choice of outfit. His mother complimented me as well. I didn't eat much, just stabbed the piece of chicken with my fork over and over, sometimes pretending it was Max's face.

"Y/n" Max stated beside me. I looked up at him. "My mother asked you a question" He said looking at me. I looked from him to his mother that was across from us. She was fancy to say the least. It was a Friday night on a random weekend in October and she set up the table and dressed like the queen was coming. I've never seen a dish or a hair out of line in the sight of Anne Hastings in my life.

There was never a linen out of place, or dust whatsoever on any of the counters. Their house was always in impeccable shape, much like mine. She was just as a clean freak just as my mother.

So when I came here I felt like it was my house all over again, but this time I had someone to try and impress. Someone to walk on egg shells with, Max's parents. At least at my house my parents don't give a shit what I'm doing as long as I don't make myself known, but here it's different. It's dare I say, worse than my own house.

His parents always loved me. Though, I never knew if they loved me, or who I was. I try not to read into too much though. I'd like to believe they like me for the sweet girl that loves their only son, not the fact that if we get married my father might pass down the family business down to him, since I wasn't a boy to take it over myself.

"Are you excited about Max's regional tomorrow?" She asked smiling at me. She was only eating a salad of course. I thinks she's vegetarian, I've never seen her eat meat. I don't know why she cooks it then. I have a lot of questions about this women now that I'm realizing it. I've also noticed that her husband doesn't sit next to her at these dinners, he eats at the head of the table. I think that's weird, but my family doesn't even eat together so I guess that this at least a step.

"Yes, he hasn't shut up about it for a week now" I laughed lightly. She smiled. "You know Max, we really wish we could come, but your father has a business meeting in Atlanta he can't miss" Anne said to him. He nodded and looked down at his plate. "I know mom, you told me" He said looking up at her.

"Max, you know your mother would love to come. We can't swing it this weekend son, there's no need to be hostile" Henry, his father said from the head of the table. Max and his father bump head a lot. I can tell why. Both huge egos, like father like son. Yet, every time I brought it up he would act like I was disrespecting his father like he was the king of England or something. It was weird.

"I know Dad. I wasn't being hostile, I was responding" Max said with a clenched jaw towards his father. Silence fell over us and the only sounds that were heard were the sounds of the forks against the plates. I cleared my throat. I wondered if Max was still upset about earlier. I really hope he wasn't. I looked up at Max.

"Did you ever figure out what happened with those pucks?" I asked him. "What happened to the pucks?" His mother quickly said. "Is she talking about the ones Coach Smith asked you to pick up? You know that that's a huge honor for you as an underclassmen, he might make you captain for your senior year. You better not have messed something up" His father said looking at him and putting his fork down and looking at him.

Max pursed his lips and looked over at me, glaring hard. I looked down feeling my face go red in defeat as I looked at my lap. Yep, he was going to give it to me later for mentioning that.

"No, I didn't mess something up. It looked like someone messed with my trunk. I was just going to get some new ones tomorrow morning before we left" Max explained. I still didn't look up. I pushed my plate forwards, I wasn't hungry anymore.

"You can't just blame everyone else for your mistakes Max. If you want to be captain you're going to have to start being more responsible than that" His father shook his head as him. I swallowed. I reached over and laid my hand on his knee in comfort. He pushed my hand off of him. I looked up at him. Really fucked his one up didn't I?

His mother cleared her throat.

"Y/n" She said making me look up. "Have you started to look at formal dresses yet? The dance is in a month" She smiled at me. I forced a smile. Formal? How has that completely slipped my mind. I forgot that existed with everything going on in my mind these past few weeks. Sydney hasn't shut up about it.

"No, not yet. Schools been hectic" I lied as I shook my head. She nodded. "I would offer to take you shopping this weekend if we were flying out" She said looking at me. I shook my head. "My mom's been begging to take me for weeks, were suppose to go sometime next week" I lied right through my teeth. My mother could care less about formal. All she cared about were the pictures so she could hang a new picture of me and Max somewhere in the foyer. She nodded.

"You know, your father and I were named king and queen at our Formal" She smiled looking over at her husband. He smiled at her. I looked down at my plate. "Are you guys running?" She asked looking at us. I looked at Max, his eyes were glued to his plate.

"I don't know, we haven't decided yet. Cayden and Syd have been talking about running" I shrugged. Max looked up at me. "What are you talking about Y/n? Formal king and queen has been all you've been talking about since school started" Max said looking at me. He was right, I was obsessed about the idea of being named queen, but lately that's the absolute last thing on my mind. I could care less about a plastic tiara.

"Right" I breathed looking at him. "You guys have time to decide" His mother said. I nodded and looked down. The rest of the dinner was small talk that I wasn't interested in. His mother stopped asking me questions. A few minutes later, Max and I were in the kitchen cleaning up. He was washing the dishes and I was putting them away into the dishwasher.

"I'm going to Cayden's tonight" He said suddenly. I looked up at him. "Okay, Is Syd going to be there? Do you want me to come?" I asked quietly, still stepping on eggshells. He handed me the next dish. "Sydney's not coming. It's a boys night. I think Mitch and Cooper might come" Max said quietly. I nodded. Mitch, the guy from the party and another one of his friends.

"Are you guys drinking?" I asked looking at him. He looked at me. "I don't know? Maybe?" He said shaking his head. I swallowed. Eggshells.

"Are you guys planning to go anywhere? Or are you just staying at Cayden's?" I asked. He slammed the plate down into the sink. I just watched him. "God Y/n, I don't know? Why are you asking me a million questions?" he asked looking over at me.

I stepped back. "I just want to make sure you're safe Max" I stated back to him. he shook his head. "I'm a big boy Y/n, I've got it under control" He rolled his eyes. I nodded and leaned against the counter. I didn't know why he was mad at me, but he was. And I didn't know what to do to fix it.

Thankfully I didn't have to say anything else because his mother walked into the kitchen. We both looked up at her. "Hey Max, your father asked you to get the suits out of his car for tomorrow so he can pack them" She said looking up at him. He sighed before walking out of the room. It was just me and her in the kitchen now.

I wouldn't chose to be alone with Max's mother most times. I don't feel like we have a lot in common. The small talk was always painful, I hated small talk. She walked over to me. "Can I ask you something?" She asked quietly under her breath, almost a whisper. I looked at her and then nodded.

She turned and looked around before looking at me, with a worried expression. "Max. Is he good to you?" She asked. My heart dropped. Why is she asking me this? I would never expect her to ask me this question, much more I didn't know how to answer it. It caught me off guard and she could tell.

"I just-" She sighed. "I'm just worried sometimes that he's got his father's temper" She said looking at me. I just watched her. "There's a lot of great things about his father, but I wonder sometimes if Max only got the bad parts. I felt like something was off at dinner, I just-" She said looking at me. I just blinked at her. Like a deer in headlights. I shook my head.

"Max is good to me" I said to her. She just looked up at me. "He's loyal to me. He treats me well. I love your son" I said to her. She was staring at me as if she was questioning if she wanted to believe me or not, I was wondering that myself. Was I telling the truth? I loved him, I did. He was loyal, yes. But did he treat me well? Most times, sometimes.

She leaned up off the counter. "Okay, well thank you for telling me" She smiled lightly. "Don't tell Max what we talked about" She said looking at me. I nodded quickly. Max suddenly walked back into the room.

"There were no suits in Dad's car" Ashton said setting the keys on the counter. She looked over at him. "Right! I must have gotten them out this morning" She said looking at him. He rolled his eyes and sighed. My eyebrows furrowed.

She wanted to ask me that in private? That was weird. Did his own mother have to question whether or not his son was a good person?

Max walked up to me. "Come on, I'll drop you off on the way to Cayden's" He said as he passed me. I nodded and followed him before turning around and smiling at his mother. That whole interaction made me uncomfortable. Does she not even trust her own son? Should she in the first place.

About 15 minutes later, Max pulled into my driveway. He stopped the car and didn't say anything as I unbuckled my seatbelt. I looked over at him and he didn't look at me. "Are we okay?" I asked quietly. He looked over at me.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I've just been so stressed about this game, I really didn't need my dad on my back about it" he said leaning back against the seat. I bit my lip and nodded. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up" I apologized looking at him. He nodded. I swallowed and looked out of the window.

"Are you gonna kiss me?" I asked quietly. He always used to kiss me goodbye. He let out a breath. "Not tonight Y/n" He breathed. I looked down in my lap, my heart dropping. Why was he acting like this? "Max I'm sorry" I whispered again. Silence was in the car. 

"I know you are" He said finally. I looked up at him. "You always kiss me goodbye" I said quietly, almost inaudible. He just looked at me. "I'm late for Cayden's babe" He said placing his hands back on the steering wheel. I nodded and then reached for the door handle, pushing the door open. I shook my head as I got out of the car and then slammed the door shut. Not too aggressively though.

I crossed my arms over my chest as I walked up to my door, tears in my eyes. I walked up to my room and looked out of the window to find Max's car gone. I laid on my bed and pulled out my phone. I needed someone to talk to or I knew i'd just get more upset about whatever was going on with me and Max. The boys were having a boys night, maybe Sydney and I could have a girls night. I needed some distraction.

I pulled out my phone and texted Sydney. 

to: syd 💙                    8:42 pm

Hey, want to come over? We could watch that new thriller on Netflix you were talking about :)

I tapped my finger on my leg as I waited for her to respond. The three bubbles popped up after a few seconds indicating that she was typing.

from: syd 💙             8:43 pm

Hey! I'm over at Cayden's. Max said you had some family commitment you couldn't get out of or something? Did something change? Mitch and Cooper just got here.

I scoffed at the phone. Of course he did. That liar. This just made me feel worse. I wanted to throw my phone. Cuss Max out, but I knew I couldn't and I knew I shouldn't. It would just make the situation worse. Why couldn't he just tell me he didn't want me to come? That he needed space? Why did he have to lie to me and our friends?

I typed back a few minutes later.

to: syd 💙                 8:46 pm

Right. I forgot, my mom just came up here to remind me. Love you, have fun.

Sydney hearted the message a few moments later. I couldn't admit to her that Max had told me it would only be boys there, that would be humiliating. It would also start rapid question fire from Sydney asking what happened.

Great. All of my friends were out having fun without me on a Friday night and I was intentionally uninvited by my own boyfriend. This was ridiculous. Maybe we did need some space tonight.

I set my phone down and got up. Hell I wasn't just going to sit here and let him win. I looked out to my balcony. Thoughts raced through my head. I sat back down on my bed. No. Y/n no. You agreed that you would be friends. Not be locked in a room together, only see each other if necessary and be friendly. I sighed.

Maybe this was necessary, though. I've had a shit day, I needed a friend. Chris's a friend. We've established that. I stood back up. This wasn't wrong. This was a friend needing a friend to talk to, that was it. I convinced myself enough to where I was now climbing down my tree and walking down the street towards Chris's.

tag list: @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @miastromboli @secret-sturniolo @sturnsclutter @sturniolodreamz @paper-crab @chrisolivia4l @mwah0mwah @recklesssturniolo @ejswift @kitaysworld @meg-sturniolo @nickmillersn1gf @fr3shl0ve @adrianaturnedpretty @oversturn @ghostgurlswrld @flowerxbunnie @ilytrinsworld @lustfulslxt @kiarastromboli @gemofthenight @blahbel668 @haunted-headset @sturnybabes @bethsturn @d3adlyclassrat @sturnybabes @mattsbitch @chrisluvbot @nickenthusiast @sturniolossmut @biimpanicking @iloveneilperry @chalametbich @dsmja @bernardsleftbootycheek @lovingsturniolo @aoxash @idrkk-123 @gingerbreadgodofhyperdeath @babagurlrichey @d3adlyclassrat @iammattsturniolo @1201pm @urfavstromboli @that-chris-girl01 @lovingsturniolo @aoxash

[bonny-kookoo]

so how did someone older jk and oc celebrate new years? A midnight kiss?? :)))

Warning for suggestive stuff? It's not quite new years celebration but I honestly started to drift off way too much for a drabble haha

"Oh no!" You gasp out, earning Jungkook's immediate attention as he looks towards where you're standing in his kitchen.

"What's wrong?" He asks, while you hide your face behind your hands. "Darling?" He questions, as he gets up to walk towards you, a letter opened on the counter.

"Oh god I'm so sorry-" you tell him, visibly shaken. "I'm really sorry, I don't know why I- I think I thought I was home and opened it-" you rambles, hands shaking. "I didn't even read it, I swear, it was just-"

"Darling, hey, look at me." He tells you, turning you away from the scene of the crime to instead fully face him, hands on your shoulders. "You're fine." He states, makes sure to emphasize, as you go through the same steps you both go through every time things like these happen.

Breathe. This is Jungkook. Nothing is going to happen.

"There we go." He chuckles, squeezing your shoulders for a split second before he lets go. "What is it about?" He wonders easily, taking the letter to read it.

"I.. I don't know." You mumble, still ashamed. "I just.. read the first line and realized that it's not addressed to me- I really don't know why I even opened it-" You again state in defense, but his hand reaches out to pull you closer holding you gently by your waist.

"Its about that new year's celebration. I told them I wouldn't go this year.." he simply sighs, before he throws the letter and envelope away. "And it's understandable. You've been spending quite a lot of time here recently- I'll take it as a compliment that you feel like this is home." He jokes easily, hands on your hips as he grins at you.

"Why- if there's an event you're invited to you should go though?" You ask, but he shakes his head.

"I want to spend it with you." He answers. "Except if you'd like to go with me to that event?" He asks, moving your hair out of your face.

"I.. uhm.. would that even be.. appropriate?" You ask quietly. "Given.. you know. The age difference and all.." you worry, but he shakes his head.

"Its not an issue to me at all, if that's what worries you." He shrugs. "We're both adults. And trust me- our age difference wouldn't be the biggest. One of the investors has a wife almost twenty-five years younger!" He laughs. "Or does it bother you?"

"No, not.. anymore." You admit. "It used to. It felt.. a little intimidating. Sometimes it still does but not as much." You explain.

"I'm glad then." He hums towards you. "So?" He questions. "If you'd like to go, we can. I usually don't like events like these, but if you're there I'd go in a heartbeat." He flirts without realizing it.

"I don't even have.. proper attire. I bet those things are super fancy.." you worry, but he just grins.

"I mean, we still got time. I could call up someone, his wife owns a clothing label, we could go and get something fit for you." He shrugs easily.

"Jungkook, no way!" You gasp. "That.. already sounds way too expensive." You worry.

"Not really. I can just tell her to not mention any cost and you'd never know." He impishly grins, as your back rests against the kitchen counter. "Though.. I'd honestly rather take your.. measurements myself." He purrs, leaning in for a teasing peck.

"I'm just.. that's not.." you stammer, easily overpowered by his recently growing confidence in his pursuit of you. Its clear that he's starting to become comfortable with you to the point of feeling confident in his actions, even in how he reassures you whenever you tend to fall back into old fears.

"Oh but it is. I know exactly what she'd need for a pretty dress." He hums. "And while I already think I know your body like my own.."

"I think I need to make sure I got the measurements correct."

[matchingbatbites]

You know how sometimes you think of a scene that belongs in a long fic, so you write the fic just so you can share that scene that started it all? I had one of those scenes come to me today, but you're not getting a full fic. Eddie is caught posing as Princess Nancy and is brought before Prince Steve.

Steven is going over the plans for the kingdom's expansion when the door slams open and Thomas and Jason step through. They appear furious, and held between them is Nancy, only- only she's half dressed, and she appears to be a he.

“What's the meaning of this?” Steven asks as he steps around the table, and the two men throw their captive to the ground before him. He crumples in a heap but still attempts to right his clothes where they've been torn from his person, trying to recover a bit of modesty.

“This imposter,” Thomas spits, “has been deceiving you. Carol saw him in the bath yesterday and discovered his truth. He's been posing as princess Nancy for his own sick gain and he must be properly punished for this indiscretion.”

“He should be hanged for it,” Jason says, his tone full of venom. Said imposter looks up, clearly terrified at the possibility, and his eyes plead with Steve as he says “My lord, please-”

“Silence!” Steven snaps, and all three go quiet. He looks between Thomas and Jason before giving the command of “Leave us. Now.”

The two men nod and each shoot the stranger a vile look before they exit the room. The prince stares down at the man, at this charlatan brought before him, and can only feel a sense of betrayal from someone he'd quickly grown to care for.

“Explain.”

The man takes a shaky inhale before he begins. “My name is Eddie- Edward. Nancy is my half-sister. When she received the news of her betrothal to you, she was concerned about your character. There were- rumors. I volunteered to take her place, to learn your true nature so she could make an informed decision about your union without having to abandon her duties.”

He looks properly ashamed of his actions, but it doesn't stop Steven's heart from breaking. Instead of falling in love with Nancy over these last weeks, he'd fallen for a farce, a sham.

“What was your plan for after? If you'd decided I was acceptable for her?”

Eddie hesitates, but says “She was going to return herself and reveal the truth to you.”

“And what? Pray that I wouldn't take offense to being tested?” He scoffs, and Eddie winces at the sound.

“Thomas and Jason were right,” Steven says, unable to keep the hurt from bleeding into his voice. “You were lying to me.”

The man looks up at him, his gaze open and pleading once more. “Only about my intentions. I swear to you, where my feelings are concerned, I've only ever spoken the truth. I'm- I was never supposed to fall for you myself.”

It echoes what Eddie-as-Nancy told him the other night as they walked through the gardens, the soft ‘I do believe I'm falling for you, your majesty,’ meant only for Steven and the roses and the stars. He thinks about the hours, the days he's spent with this person. With this man, who has shown Steven a mere glimpse of the love he's always dreamed of.

“This plot is the most foolish, most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of,” Steve says, and Eddie's head drops with a sob. Steve feels weak at the sound, and he falls to his knees before Eddie. He takes the man's hands in his own, and shining brown eyes look up at him in disbelief. 

“But I would be truly foolish to let you go. All I've wanted in life is for someone to love me for my truest self. You’ve shown me a future where that desire is not just a dream.” 

Eddie sobs again as Steven pushes a hand into those wild curls and tugs him closer, resting their foreheads together. “Sorry- I'm so sorry-” he stutters, and Steve shakes his head.

[motheatenscarf]

Amidst all the James Somerton fallout, I think it's important to remember not to moralize whether or not you or others fell for his grift.

Obviously, if you were rallied into being one of his attack dogs on social media when he put some pretty heinous hits out on people, uh. You might have other problems and should probably evaluate how you spend your time online and how you treat other people before you start caring about the rest of the points I'm about to make. Priorities, etc.

But for the rest of us, it's surprisingly easy to miss just how awful a creator can be.

If you only watched his videos that caught your interest, if you don't really follow creators on social media, if you skip livestreams because watching Some Guy talk unfiltered into a bad camera angle with shitty lighting for hours on end sounds like a fucking nightmare to you, you're not really gonna catch most of this shit. At least, you're not gonna catch most of it from any perspective but the one he tries to spin.

This is a reminder to be skeptical and to trust your gut and check sources if something sounds wrong, but also. Uh. That's still the creator's responsibility not to plagiarize and to fact check their work. You're not morally obligated to be as thorough in curating your experience as someone who is making sure they take every ethical precaution before absolutely destroying a "creator's" credibility in a video like H-Bomb's or Todd in the Shadows'. You're literally just some guy. Most people, myself included, watch these videos as background noise while doing at minimum one other task, you're not gonna google every damn thing he says, especially not on media analysis, where the POINT is to have one's own opinion. THEY'RE the ones trying to be "influencers," or, laughably, "creators." The standards are on them.

And for the isms, phobias, and misogyny, well. Frankly, for my own perspective, I gaslight myself all the damn time when I see red flags. Good Allyship™ has been telling me for years to ignore my own discomfort when someone criticizes a privileged group, especially one I'm a part of. I'm a cis asexual white-passing and probably neuroatypical woman, I am constantly trying to be aware of my own relative privilege while simultaneously doubting my own reaction to things. Despite this, I'd still liked to think I'm a skeptical person, but nobody's immune to everything. Everybody has weak spots.

If you got duped or fell for James' scam, that sucks. I feel ya. I fell for it too, I've seen probably 40% of his catalog over the last couple years and really liked what I'd seen. I recommended his channel and videos to people even if I didn't always agree with every point he made, but it felt important to at least consider what to me seemed like a unique perspective that had value or added to a conversation. There are red flags within his content, his analysis, his rate of publishing, his weird diatribes, that in retrospect, really all added up into things I should have known better than to ignore. But, for reasons I'm interrogating and am adding to my list of things to be aware of about myself, I didn't ignore them, and got grifted. I donated to his patreon a few times, probably gave him like $20 grand total over the years, about as much as I've given H Bomb. The important take away here isn't to be ashamed of the fact that you were fooled, it's to remember that you're fallible.

And it's good to recognize that about yourself. Everyone is, and the ones who say they aren't are lying. They're either gonna be the next person to feel really stupid and foolish when they fall for a scam, or are themselves the grifter.

No one is immune.

[luvhughes43]

ashamed | jack hughes x reader

luvhughes43 masterlist🌷

request: Jack blurb w/ "are you ashamed of me?" + "i'm scared that you'll start to see me the way i see myself”

word count: 0.5k

“are you ashamed of me?” you whispered when your boyfriend stepped into your shared bedroom. he looked up at you, eyes bewildered as your words finally registered with him. 

you’d been feeling this way for awhile now. you saw everyone’s comments about you, how you weren’t that pretty, that you didn’t look like jacks ex girlfriends, and that you just weren’t right for him. in the beginning of yours and jacks public relationship it was easy to ignore the comments. the bliss of the start of something new, and being happy with jack outweighing every negative. but, now that he is gone for hockey all the time, you’ve had a lot of time to think about things. 

it didn’t take long for your past insecurities to creep up on you. your body issues, and lack of confidence, coming back at you full force.

jack dropped his bag in the doorway, slowly walking up to you. he held one of his hands out as he got closer and you reached yours out to meet it. his grip on your hand was firm as he used it to pull you closer to him.

“why would you think i’m ashamed of you?” jack speaks softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“i’m not like the girls you’re used to and i know you're seeing what people are saying about me. i would understand if-”

“no,” jack cut you off. “all you need to understand is that i love you. i’m never going to be ashamed of you. i think you're insanely beautiful,” jack placed his hand not holding yours on your check, using his thumb to rub softly at your skin.

the heaviness in your throat grew at jack’s words, tears quietly slipping down your cheeks. you were so tired of not feeling good enough for the person you loved.

your boyfriend silently wiped your tears with his thumb, his other hand squeezing yours three times to wordlessly signal his love for you. “i’m scared that you’ll start to see me the way i see myself,” you whispered to jack after a few moments went by in silence. 

he dropped your hand and let his other hand fall from your cheek. he pulled you into a tight hug, his head immediately coming to rest against your shoulder. “i don’t want you to feel like this” he whispered back to you, his head turning slightly into your neck so he could leave soft kisses there.

“i can’t help it” your voice broke as you replied, hands going up to wrap around your boyfriend's back. there were still tears falling down your face as quiet sobs left your mouth.

“i’m going to do everything i can to make you feel better okay?” jack prompted, removing himself slightly from your hold so he could look into your eyes. you only nodded in response.

“i’m sorry,”

“y/n, you don’t have anything to be sorry for” jack replied, pulling on your hand to lead you over to your guys’ bed. 

you fell asleep to jacks promises and his soft caresses as he assured you that he loved you, and that you had nothing to be afraid of. 

[heartshapedmisery]

day one! ⇢ orgasm denial with robert fischer

warnings! ⇢ MINORS DNI 18+ | dom!robert fischer x sub!reader, unprotected p in v sex, masturbation ( f ), orgasm denial, creampie, degradation, dirty talk, bit of a breeding kink? idk. lmk if i missed anything!

notes! ⇢ ahhh october is finally here i can't wait for all the fun fics I have planned for this month!! hope you like this one, next fic comes out on Wednesday! :)

✷ main masterlist | 2023 kintober masterlist

"Robbie!" he heard his name fall from your lips, echoing throughout your beautifully large bedroom as he neared the door.

Your moans practically filled the entire penthouse, despite your attempts at being quiet. You couldn't hear the usual click of his shoes since you were too lost in your own pleasure, and really because he didn't want to make any noise out of fear of causing you to stop what you were doing.

He had just gotten home after a long work day and was met with your absence in the front room, which was highly unusual for you. Granted that he had worked later than normal, but you still were always there to greet him with a hug and a kiss no matter how late it got.

So when he didn't see you waiting for him in the living room, he couldn't help but feel the need to investigate.

That was when he heard it. Your soft moans that had been muffled by your bedroom door, but still clear as day. It made him stop in his tracks as he walked down the hall, his fingers white-knuckling the handle of his briefcase as his mind jumped to conclusions.

How could you have had the audacity to fuck somebody else in his home? In his bed? Had you no respect for him at all?

It wasn't until he heard his name rip from your chest did he let out a shaky breath, the anger in his chest fading and being replaced with pure lust.

Carefully, he turned the knob, cracking the door open to see your half-naked figure sprawled out on your large king-sized bed, your fingers playing lazily between your legs. Your arousal glistened all over your fingers, the wet spot on the Egyptian cotton sheets beneath you evidence of your time spent there.

"Fuck," you mewled, still unaware of your husband's presence. He simply marveled at you, fighting the urge to palm himself through his pants as he leaned against the frame of the door to stabilize himself. The muffled sound of wet squelching between your legs as your fingers pumped in and out of you made his dick twitch. He couldn't stand here and watch you anymore. He needed to feel you.

The sound of the door shutting made your eyes snap open, your movements coming to a halt as your guilty eyes met your husband's. A dark expression inhabited his face as his eyes raked over your figure, before stopping at the spot between your legs.

"Robbie, I-" you scrambled to apologize, but he simply shook his head silently as he neared the bed, shrugging his blazer off and throwing it at the foot of the mattress.

"What have I told you, baby?" he whispered, bringing a hand to your jaw and pulling your chin up so you faced him directly. He seemed calm on the outside, but you could see in his eyes that he was nothing but disappointed.

If it had been any other day when he hadn't gotten home as late as he had, he would've even been mad. But, he didn't have the energy in him to allow himself to be angry with you. Not tonight.

"You know better than this," he whispered to you, allowing his free hand to brush the stray piece of hair out of your face. "Don't you?"

A whimper escaped your throat as you felt ashamed for disobeying him. "I'm sorry, Robbie. You were just running so late, I couldn't help myself."

He couldn't help but smirk, his hands moving away from your face to loosen his tie. "Needed me that bad, hm?"

You nodded, your freshly manicured hand reaching up to palm his crotch, rubbing him slowly through his pants as you could feel how hard he was. You smiled giddily, your fingers slowly moving to unbuckle his belt, but he stopped you.

"I don't think you should be rewarded after breaking the rules, baby," he told you, his grip on your wrist tight. "That's not how this works."

Your smile dropped, his hand finally releasing your wrist from his grip. He motioned for you to move back on the bed as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, his eyes not leaving your figure once. Once he kicked off his shoes, you could feel a dip in the mattress as he knelt down in front of you.

"Lay back, baby," he told you, and you weren't hesitant to comply. Your hair fawned out beneath you on the mattress as he crawled over your body, his hips slotting in between your thighs as your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him in. "Want you to show me how much you needed me."

His hand moved between your bodies to dip into his boxers, pulling out his hard length and allowing it to slap against his clothed stomach. You could feel it rubbing against your thigh, and you would be lying if you were to say it didn't rile you up more.

"Please," you whimpered, your hand pawing at his bicep as he grasped his hard-on and moved to line it up with your soaked entrance. "I'll be good for you, I promise!"

Robert only shook his head, the ghost of a smirk evident on his face as he shoved himself into you without warning, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as he stuffed you to the brim.

"I know you will, baby," he cooed, cradling your head in his hand as he bottomed out inside of you, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. "And you're not gonna come until I say you can, since you've already treated yourself this afternoon, I see."

He looked over to the wet spot from your arousal on the sheets for a split second before returning his eyes back to you, guilt flooding your chest once more under his intense gaze.

"Please, just move," you mewled, complying with his restrictions. You could feel tears begin to well in your eyes as the feeling of him sheathed inside you was becoming unbearable. You needed him to fuck you already.

He didn't say a word as he pulled out of you before slamming his hips back against yours, his length filling you abruptly once again, sending a chill down your spine as your eyes screwed shut. A shaky moan sounded from his throat as he left hot open-mouthed kisses on your neck and chest, trailing from the sweet spot behind your ear to the valley of your breasts. His hips fell into a steady pace pistoning in and out of you, brushing the spot where you wanted him to reach the most each time.

"Fuck, you're soaked, sweetheart," he whispered as his free hand moved to hook on the back of your knee to pull it farther up around his waist, keeping you as close as possible to him. "Bet you've been daydreaming about me fucking this pussy like this all day, hm?" he grunted between moans.

You nodded lazily, unable to form coherent words as he fucked you stupid, his movements becoming rougher and more irregular as he could feel himself slipping off into his own pleasure.

The familiar knot of ecstasy appeared in your lower abdomen once more, a feeling you knew all too well after this afternoon, building stronger and stronger until you felt yourself begin to tip over the edge.

"Robbie!" you whined, clawing at his neck and raking your fingers through his sweet chestnut locks of hair before giving them a good tug to ground yourself. You didn't know how much longer you were going to last.

"What did I tell you, baby?" he breathed, not stopping his movements as he squeezed the flesh of your thigh. "Don't fucking come until I tell you to."

You wanted to obey him, you really did, but he was making it so hard not to come on his cock as he fucked into you at a relentless pace. You tried so hard not to focus on it, rolling your hips around underneath him in an attempt to bring him closer to his climax, hoping that he'd allow you to let go once he did.

"Fuck, yeah," he groaned, his eyes falling shut as his face fell to the crook of your sweat-glistened neck. It seemed to be working, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more unpredictable as he fucked you. "Just like that, good fucking girl."

He wasn't too far off now—and neither were you—especially with your walls clenching down on him as you tried not to think about your own climax. He was a moaning mess above you, the head of his dick twitching deep inside of you as he was on the edge of his release.

"Gonna fucking come, baby. Wanna feel you come with me," he groaned into your neck, lost in his own pleasure as he felt himself fall into the peak of his orgasm. His words were enough to tip you over the edge too after holding out for so long, a wave of ecstasy washing over you as you could feel his hot release fill you to the brim.

"Fuck, Robbie! Give it to me!" you whined, clawing at his clothed back as he gave you a few final thrusts before pulling out, his length becoming too sensitive as he removed the swollen head from your entrance with a hiss.

All that could be heard now was a mixture of heavy pants from the both of you, trying to catch your breath as you were both too fucked out to even think straight.

He rolled over and off of you, his chest heaving up and down as he turned his head towards your exhausted expression, his hand moving to brush away the hair that had been matted to your forehead with sweat.

"Sorry, baby," he told you, watching as your eyes fell shut. "Just had to teach you a lesson."

You opened your eyes again before rolling over and snuggling into his side, laying your head on his chest. You could hear his heart beating fast, and you couldn't help but smirk as you could feel it pounding against your cheek.

"It's alright," you told him. "Might have to break the rules more often if that's how you're gonna punish me."