#haley halter

[saltedpeppers]

https://stonedimmaculateclothing.com/products/joplin-suede-dress-in-brown

[bruce-wyatt-burner]

👀👀

[fashionmodelscollection]

HALTER Haley

[ddejavvu]

Could you do a criminal minds x reader where reader is viewed as super sweet and dresses brighter and stuff like Penelope but one day they have to come in like super late/by surprise so everyone is in their normal clothes and the bau sees that reader has a big ass, super cool tattoo? And they’re all surprised and stuff

You're looking less-than professional in your backless halter top when you take your seat at the round table, but no one bats an eye until you stand from the chair to leave. Hotch's call of 'Wheels up in 20' means that the room clears as everyone hunts for their gobags, and the second you turn your back to your coworkers a litany of reactions fill the space.

Of course, the most dramatic is from Garcia, but you hear enough to count all of your coworkers, except one. Hotch's brows are raised when you turn back to see them, though - apparently he's not above being startled.

"Woah, hot stuff," Prentiss calls, a grin spreading over her face, "You've got some nice ink back there!"

"I didn't know you had tattoos," JJ muses, staring at you with curious amusement like she's recalculating your image in her mind, "That's really intricate. I like it."

"Oh, it's-" You reach a hand up to stroke awkwardly over the inked skin, "I kind of forgot you'd never seen it before."

"Turn around again!" Garcia gushes, "I wanna look at it."

You spin on command, and Hotch and Rossi are kind enough not to gawp with the others, passing you on their way to the door.

"You've got guts, kid," Rossi grimaces, "I've been in a lot of pain before, but I don't know if I'd willingly sit there for all of that."

"I wouldn't," Hotch shakes his head with a good-natured smile, "Haley and I got small, matching ones in college, and I had a hard time with that one."

"Is that based off of Norse mythology?" Spencer pokes his head around your shoulder to stare bright-eyed at you, "Some of the symbols remind me of-"

"It's just a sick-ass tattoo, Reid." Morgan shoves at his shoulder. peering avidly at the art, "Don't ruin this for everyone."

Reid takes the shove like a champion, smiling kindly, albeit awkwardly at you as he moves for the door himself, "I like it."

"Thanks, Reid," You call, flinching slightly as a hand traces one of the symbols on your back.

"Ooh! Sorry, pumpkin," Garcia calls, the hand drawn away in a flash, "I got too grabby. I just think it's really cool," she takes your hand, leading you towards the door while the others follow to continue staring at your tattoo, "I'd show you my own body art, but it's not really in a spot that I can display in the workplace."

"Well this I've gotta see," Morgan teases, "Let's all huddle in the bathroom on the jet, babygirl, and see what you're hiding."

"It is not for your eyes, Derek Morgan," She huffs, though she's grinning at his attempt. The look in her eyes suggests that the tattoo is not for his eyes because it's something to do with him, and you're eager to giggle over whatever part of her body she's tatted 'babygirl' over later.

For now, though, you rifle through your gobag and shrug on a cardigan, effectively covering your back and its ink.

"It is a crying shame to cover up that artwork," Prentiss laments, "I bet it looks awesome peeking over tank tops."

"You'll see it again at the hotel," You laugh, "I have plans to use the jacuzzi before we leave."

"A jacuzzi sounds fantastic," JJ sighs, "But let's all of us agree that Morgan isn't invited - I wanna see Garcia's tattoo."

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 27

All through the night I couldn’t let myself fall asleep. I was up daydreaming, overthinking, and walking through the whole day from start to end. I know exactly how I want everything to play out and when I should bring the bouquet to Haley’s.

First things first, I have to stop and get the bouquet. I waltz over to Pierre’s with an extra pep to my step. Caroline is standing and chatting with Pierre behind the counter this morning. They both turn and look at me when they hear the bell chime from over the door.

“Good morning!” I greet the two of them.

“Good morning, Danny. How can we help you?” Caroline greets back.

“I need a bouquet…please,” I was so excited that I nearly forgot my manners.

“Pierre, do you mind grabbing this wonderful girl a bouquet?” Caroline asks her husband.

“Right on it!” He says as he reaches to a shelf behind the counter. He pulls out a bouquet full of blue, purple, and yellow flowers. Lots of greenery were added to give it more depth and to make the colors pop. The flowers are wrapped in classic brown paper, but it was a little too plain for my liking.

“Do you mind tying a blue ribbon around the paper on the stems?” I ask Pierre.

“Of course I can do that. That’s a really good idea,” he replies as he goes searching on the shelf under the cash register. He takes such a long time that Caroline finally reaches down and finds it for him. He blushes in embarrassment and takes the ribbon from her.

“There we go. A beautiful bouquet with a blue ribbon tied into a bow.” Pierre passes the bouquet to me and I exchange it for a few of my coins.

I turn on my heels, bouquet in hand and head for the door.

“Good luck!” Pierre and Caroline call out with a wave. I give them a friendly wave back and start heading over to Emily and Haley's house.

When I arrive at their front door, I stand there on the doorstep for a minute. I contemplate all of the different ways this could go one more time before knocking on the front door.

I straighten my hat, adjust my shirt, dust my pants off and fluff the flowers of the bouquet as well before knocking on the door. Finally, I bring my hand up and knock on the front door.

“I knew you couldn’t stay away for much longer. I figured we’d see you at our house today,” Emily chuckles as she opens the door. She opens the door wider and invites me in. I step inside and make my way to the living room. I’m far too antsy to sit down just yet, so I stay standing.

“You are such a lovey dovey, Danny. Look at you with your bouquet of flowers, all dolled up,” Emily gushes. I didn’t really ‘doll up’ as Emily says. I only brushed my hair out really well and cleaned my boots up. I was just wearing my regular farm wear, I didn’t want to look like I’m trying TOO hard.

At the sound of my name leaving Emily’s mouth, Haley’s bedroom door flies open. Startled, Emily and I whip our heads her way.

Haley has done herself up nicer than I have ever seen. She was wearing a pink, halter top sundress that reached down to her mid thigh with her wavy blonde hair framing her face and draped over the front of her shoulders. Her nails have a fresh coat of her usual blue nail polish that brings out her eye color. The only bit of makeup she was wearing was mascara and her signature pink lipstick.

I can’t help but just stare at her as she stands at the doorway of her room. Her whole demeanor is glowing and bright today, giving me butterflies in my stomach.

My awkward staring has caused her to blush and look down at the ground. She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, waiting for one of us to speak.

“Get a room you two,” Emily laughs as she has been standing here watching us stare at each other. “You’re undressing each other with your eyes right in front of me.”

This causes Haley’s face to go redder than before. I also felt my face go red from what Emily said since I may or may not be guilty of it.

Emily marched away and went into her room due to the tension between Haley and I. She didn't want to be a third wheel or witness the weirdness going on.

“So…” Haley takes a few steps my way with her hands clasped behind her back.

“So…” I responded nervously. I had the bouquet behind my back where Haley couldn’t see it just yet.

“What are you doing here, Danny?” Haley asks me as she gets closer to me.

“I just came to see you. I have something for you that I’m hoping you like…”

“Oh yeah? What is it?” She tilts her head at me curiously.

I take the bouquet from behind my back and hand it out to her. I watch her eyes follow my movements and land on the bouquet as I hold it out. They immediately light up when she notices what I was holding out to her.

“Danny…” she whispers as she slowly takes it into her hand.

“I hope you like it. I made sure to get Pierre to add a blue ribbon to make it prettier,” I blush, scratching at the back of my neck.

“You do know what this symbolizes right?” Haley asks me with her eyebrow raised.

“I believe it means ‘romantic interest’ if I’m not mistaken?” I confidently responded. Her eyebrows raise in surprise, realizing I knew the intent behind the flowers. "Is there something wrong?” My voice filled with worry as I’m afraid I did something wrong.

“No no nothing is wrong. I’m just surprised…” She breathes out.

“Why are you surprised?” My voice is still trembling with worry.

“You really like me? After how I treated you?” She mumbles, unsure of being deserving of the gesture.

“Oh course I really like you. I thought this would make that clear?” I chuckle softly.

Haley walks closer to me and takes me by the hand. I feel my whole body heat up at her touch.

“My hand might be a little sweaty,” I whisper nervously.

“That’s okay. I was going to take you to go find a vase with me to put this in,” She says as she starts dragging me to the kitchen.

Haley lets go of my hand once we get to the kitchen and starts rummaging through the cupboards. She goes through all the ones at the bottom, but once she has to reach to the top cupboards, she can’t see what’s in them.

“Can you help me? Do you see a vase up there?” She asks while pointing to the shelves in the cupboard.

“Well I don’t see a vase in this one. Try the next one,” I directed her. She opens the next cupboard and motions for me to look. Sure enough, I see at the very back a tall, glass vase she could use for the bouquet. I place my hand on the counter for balance and reach with the other one to grab the vase at the back. But when I put my arm up to reach, I feel something skimming the exposed skin of my waist.

“You have such smooth skin for a farmer. I mean your calloused hands say otherwise, but everywhere else…” Haley says as she traces her fingers along my waist. I nearly lose balance while bringing the vase down.

“Well besides all the cuts and scrapes from the mines,” I responded as I put the vase on the counter. As I say that, her fingers brush across a gash on my stomach that hasn’t healed yet. Many of the injuries have yet to heal.

“Have you been taking care of them?” She asks me in a low tone, looking up at me through her eyelashes.

“Well.. uh...no,” I stutter as she brings her hand up to my face. She traces the cuts I have along my cheek, then down to the one I have going across my lip. She seems to linger on that one a little bit longer.

“Your lips are also soft considering you are out in the sun all day usually. You’d think they get sunburnt and chapped often?” She says.

“Mhmm,” I say in a daze, letting her fingers travel around my body. She slid them down my arm next, right down to the palm of my hand.

“Yeah look at all the callouses and scratches you got going on here. You really should let me put some cream on your hands. It’ll soften them up,” She traces the creases of my hand, causing me to get goosebumps.

I quietly nod my head as I admire her face. She wasn’t looking up at me to notice I was looking at her. She was too concentrated on my hand.

“Let’s go find a spot for this bouquet in my room,” she finally says as she takes the vase into her hands.

I’ve never been in Haley’s room before and I’m kind of nervous. Seeing the place where most of someone's personal life takes place is very intimate to me. She must be comfortable enough with me to let me into this part of her life.

Haley opens the door of her room and leads me inside. I take a couple of steps in and start admiring it. The wallpaper is a horizon of a beach with sand and water. There were even little sail boats scattered throughout the water of the wallpaper. Two big palm trees were part of the wallpaper as well. Her bed was pressed up to the corner of the room with a lamp beside it. On the other side was a dresser and a small side table next to it with a teddy bear on it. She had a cute, pink vanity to the right of the door and a lamp squeezed into the corner on another small side table. In the left front corner was a shelf with her camera perched on it. A huge potted plant was also next to it.

“Your room is cute,” I say, taking it all in. As I am focused on the room, I hear Haley close the door behind me.

“A lot of it is from when I was a kid. I never wanted to redo it and kind of embraced it. I added a few things as I got older such as this vanity,” she explains as she gestures to the pink vanity. She paces around the room trying to find somewhere to put the vase of flowers.

“This will be a good spot. First thing I’ll see when I enter my room!” She smiles as she places the vase on top of the big dresser. I can’t help but smile with her as she happily places it down.

I notice she has two pictures printed out and taped to her wall next to the dresser. I walk over to investigate. Haley notices where I’m looking and quickly moves in front of them.

“Nuh uh,” she shakes her head while blushing at me, still blocking the pictures.

“C’mon what do you have to hide?” I tease her trying to look around her. She just shrugs at me.

“Well now I have to see,” I say as I grab her by the waist. She squirms and squeals in my grasp and I toss her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I keep her there as I take in the two pictures she has taped to her wall.

One of the pictures was a sweet one of her and Emily taking a selfie. They were making funny faces at the camera.

To my surprise, the other picture was of her and I at Marnie’s farm. It was one of us hanging out with the cows. I was showing her how to pet a cow, but instead of looking at the cow, I was looking at her. She was looking back up at me as well, not paying attention to my demonstration.

“Looky at what we got here. Is this a picture of you and I?” I tease her more.

“You weren’t supposed to see that!” she squeals from over my shoulder.

“That’s really creepy of you, Haley,” I joke. I start walking over to the bed but stop at a weird door at the back of her room.

“What’s in here?” I ask her. I spun around to show Haley what I was looking at since she was still draped over my shoulder.

“It’s a work in progress. I’ll show you when it’s done,” she replies.

I continue over to her bed where I put Haley down. I grab her by the waist again and lift her up off my shoulder. I gently toss her down onto the bed, causing her to let out an “oof”. Somehow, she still remains perfect, not a hair out of place. Her face was flushed due to all the blood rushing to her head from hanging over my shoulder.

She sits up on the bed and pats beside her, inviting me to sit next to her. Doing as I’m told, I take a seat beside her. I watch as she reaches her arm up and yanks my hat from my head. The static of my hat leaving my head causes my hair to tousle. She lets out a laugh as she puts the hat on her own head.

I feel my stomach erupt in butterflies from how good she looks in my cowboy hat. That, and other places of my body seem to enjoy it as well. The hem of her sundress seemed to creep farther up her thighs as she sat crisscrossed on her bed. I can’t help but quickly peek down at her thighs and body. The dress accentuates the curves of her hips and chest a little too well. It’s almost like she wore this dress on purpose.

“Whatcha looking at?” Haley catches me as I let my eyes linger a little too long.

“Oh…nothing…”I quickly replied awkwardly, my face heating up.

“Yeah…okay…” she skeptically calls my bluff with a smirk. She leans back onto her arms and stretches her legs out over my lap.

She flicks her eyes down at her legs and back up at me, giving me another smirk. Boldly, I take my hand and caress the side of her calf. I slowly bring myself to a lean, and bring my hand up her leg to caress her thigh. I hold my head up with my fist as I lean across the bed. She is still up farther on the bed than me, my head is only at her hip.

“You’re a tease,” she mutters under her breath to me.

“I’m the tease?” I raise an eyebrow at her, still caressing her thigh.

“Look what you are doing!” She points to my hand.

“Look what you’re wearing,” I breathe, tugging at the hem of her dress.

“I knew you’d like it,” she winks. I feel my breath hitch in my lungs at the wink.

“Stay for dinner, Danny,” she looks at me with a gleam in her eyes. I look around to find a clock. When I find one on the wall of her room, I see that it’s already dinner time. I hadn’t even noticed my stomach rumbling.

“If you so desperately want me to,” I respond playfully, giving her dress another few tugs at the hem.

[maddiesflame]

haley halter icons

like/reblog if saved © maddiesflame

[voss117]

Haley Halter by Alicia Stepp

[serotoninundopamin]

Model: Haley Halter Photographer: Jason Fitzgerald

[belsinclair]

like/reblog if saved.

[starduo-farm]

red tones and summer

Date night outfit. The rose on the farmer’s hair completes the look.

Dustbeauty’s work on the town buildings are one of my favorite things (hence all my photos beside buildings).

This outfit is inspired by Strawberries.

In love with the white rose flower box in front of Emily and Haley’s house. Here’s the farmer with a red jumpsuit on.

Matching chequered hat and shirt. Also love the white roses outside Pierre’s store.

Just several beach outfits.

Shorts in the summer!

I also love the details on the museum/library. This hairstyle probably one of my favorites too.

Another strawberry-inspired outfit. Or mini mouse.

Halter with the high-low skirt in front of the wizard’s tower.

[bruce-wyatt-burner]

👀👀

[fashionmodelscollection]

HALTER Haley

[angelhotchner]

The Glory Of Sunshine - Chapter Eleven

hey, so quick update: I'm aiming for this fic to hit around 100k words, so far it's just past 20k. I want this to be a real slow burning build of a fic, but I don't want to write chapters with nothing happening in them - please let me know if it moves too fast or if you want anything addressing within the following chapters! also, thank you all so much for the likes, kudos, comments, rbs, everything - it means the world <3

A03.

Story Masterlist

You’ve never been one to want to be fixed. You’d rather try and fix other people, protect them and nourish them back to who they’ve always wanted to be. Their caretaker. Two thousand miles away from home in a new city, with a new job, and seven new faces to decode and decipher, your attention seems to be slowly wrapping up with one of them. Are you falling in love, Y/N?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader Additional Tags: Very slow burn, Pining Contains: Adult Language, Fluff, Smut, Heartbreak CM Timeline: AU begins after Haley and Hotch’s divorce. Some cases within this story are not canon. WC: 2.3K

Chapter Eleven

You had time to call home before you were supposed to be meeting everyone at Billy’s bar. You stared at the clothes in your closet until they were just blurs of fabric, your mind racing into overdrive.

“Pen, help me,” You started a snapchat video, going through some possible outfits and sending it to Penelope. Your phone dinged a minute later.

‘The jeans and the halter top!!’

Penelope was right, of course, as you slipped the clothes over your body and stared in the mirror at the way they hung over you, showing off your figure comfortably. You fixed your hair and rushed out of the door, grabbing a leather jacket on the way out.

Billy’s was busy when you arrived. Everyone was already inside, and you made your way over to the booth they’d claimed with a big smile on your face. The team welcomed you, and you could have sworn that Hotch’s eyes lingered over your chest just a little too long to be a glance, but you ignored that familiar knotting feeling as you sat down next to Emily. You gave her a warm smile as she handed you a drink.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Morgan took a gulp of his drink. “But why are we out tonight?”

“Call it team bonding,” Emily winked, and you giggled as discreetly as you could. You all lifted your glasses for a cheer, clinking them in the middle of the table until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

Hotch couldn’t drag his eyes away from you. He had no idea why the feeling was coming on so much stronger than it had before - maybe it was the jacking off every night - but he couldn’t peel his gaze from your chest, your lips, your eyes. Every part of you, his eyes has wandered over it. Then a storm crashed straight over his head as he spotted Jamie appearing behind you.

His brain told him to get up and walk out, but he was trapped in the booth. He smiled through gritted teeth.

“Jamie!” You smiled, standing up to give the man a huge hug. Alec walked over from the bar and you enveloped him in a hug too, trying to keep your breathing under control. Here it was - the truth was about to stare Aaron Hotchner directly in the face. It was too late to run now.

“Hi everyone,” Jamie smiled at the team, before grabbing Alec’s hand. “This is my boyfriend Alec! Alec, this is the BAU team from the FBI,”

“Ah! You all work with Y/N! It’s great to meet you!”

Hotch’s mouth turned dry like sandpaper.

Alec. Boyfriend. Jamie’s boyfriend.

“That’s so cute!” Penelope smiled at them both. She shot you a glance before settling her eyes back onto Jamie. “How long have you two been together?”

“Four years,” Jamie grinned, and Alec kissed his cheek giddily.

You focused your eyes anywhere other than in Hotch’s direction.

Hotch could feel his jaw go slack. His eyes were wide.

Boyfriend. Four years.

You hadn’t dated him at all.

Wyoming.

Alec and Jamie squeezed around the table with the team, and they spent half an hour being their usual bubbly, comedic selves - telling the team stories of their lives with full theatrics, which brought giggles and chuckles to life until Morgan did a spit-take, soaking the side of your face with beer as he gasped for breath in between laughter.

“Oh. My. God,” You burst out, standing up. The beer dripped down your cheeks as you laughed, excusing yourself to the bathroom. Hotch was watching you from the bar as he waited to order a round, and decided to forget his turn as he snuck off into the crowd, following you.

A hand clasped your wrist just as you were about to enter the bathroom, and you spun around to find Hotch standing unusually close to you, his breath warm on your face as he towered over you.

“You didn’t tell me,” He muttered softly.

“I know,”

“I thought th--for two years I--” He cut himself off, the words unable to form a coherent sentence as he realised how close he was to you.

His mind wandered back to the night in Wyoming - the way you kissed him and held his jaw so tenderly, the way your lips moulded against his like you were made just for him. He could have had that. He could have had that all night.

You were thinking the same thing and you could swear that he could hear your heartbeat, smashing and banging out of your chest. The way he kissed you, the few seconds of pleasure before he pushed you away - you could have had that all night.

Both of you seemed to be thinking the exact same thing as the distance between you began to close slowly - inevitably, you’d hoped - but you both stopped mere centimeters away from touch, realising the same thing.

It couldn’t happen now.

“Shit,” You whispered, taking a step back and glancing down to the floor.

“I’m an idiot,” He sighed, taking a step back too and rubbing his eyes. He looked at you with a pained expression, and you imagined that your face mirrored his.

“I guess we draw a line under this now,” You bit your lip, and the simple action clouded Hotch’s judgement for a moment as his eyes darkened. He stepped forward again, holding the side of your neck tightly as his eyes searched yours before flicking down to your lips as he leaned in, feeling your shallow breaths huff against his mouth.

The group of drunk women pushing past you into the bathroom caught your attention and your face turned away slightly, breaking the entire moment. Hotch dropped his hand away from your skin and turned his back, walking back over to the bar. You rushed into the bathroom to dry off your face.

When Hotch went home that night, he could have kicked himself as he replayed the night over and over again in his mind. He didn’t even jack off like usual, how could he? All he could think about was how he’d jumped to a conclusion in Wyoming, and he’d moved on since without gaining any closure on what happened. Well...he was trying to convince himself that he’d moved on since.

His throat felt tight with guilt as the look on your face followed him when he closed his eyes - the look that you had when he told you that he regretted kissing you the morning after the fallout in the hotel room. He only regretted it because he didn’t want another man to be hurt by his actions, but that wasn’t even a possibility. Now, he only regretted shoving you away from him. That kiss? He wanted it again and again.

“Stupid,” He grunted to himself as he thought about Jamie and Alec, and how the way you’d been acting since the fallout was beginning to make sense. He’d guessed that you were the type to build a barrier when you felt betrayed, and his irrationality in Wyoming had caused a rift between you and the team, not just you and him.

Before he managed to fall asleep, he had a moment of clarity as he thought about New Years Eve - when he saw your sunshine again, even though his girlfriend was standing right in front of him. You could distance yourself all you wanted, but he would always see that light around you. No matter what.

--

The next morning, you woke up to find Emily snoring away on your couch, and you snapped a picture, grinning. You started the coffee machine and she woke up with a grunt, rubbing her eyes as she adjusted back to the realm of the living.

“Morning,” You chirped, only to be met with a pained scowl. Man, she really hated mornings.

“What happened with you and Hotch last night?” She asked, her voice croaking as she stood up to collect the hot coffee that you’d made for her.

“Nothing,” You shook your head, and Emily’s eyes narrowed at you over her mug.

“Come on, Y/N. You both disappeared after Morgan spat his drink on you,”

“Nothing happened, Em. Seriously. He couldn’t really say anything to me, but we just agreed to draw a line under everything,”

Emily’s eyes narrowed further.

“You’re leaving something out,”

“Nope,” You said, popping the ‘p’.

“You are. That’s your tell!”

“I do not have a tell,”

“We’re profilers. You have a tell, and that was it,”

“I say nope like that all the time!”

“Y/N,”

“Urgh, stop,”

“Y/N…”

“Shut up,” You grumbled, but Emily’s shit-eating grin infected you and you cast a smirk as you sipped on your drink. “I think he tried to kiss me,”

“What?!”

“Twice,”

“But…”

“Beth. I know,”

“He’s been with her for almost a year now,”

“I know, Em,”

Emily was silent as she drank her coffee, and your apartment stayed quiet until you’d both drained your coffee.

“Well. The ball is in his court, now,” Emily sighed, and you nodded. A moment passed before she curled her lip. “But let’s not tell Penelope about that part,”

“Agreed,” You nodded. “She has far too many plans for things like this,”

“She loves it,” Emily chuckled. “This is the first time that there’s been some kind of fraternizing drama since Rossi’s dating days,”

“Em! We’re not fraternizing,”

“Not yet,” She winked, and you shook your head, albeit with a smile, as you left her alone in the kitchen to take a shower.

Emily stayed at your place until around six p.m. Before she left, she held your hand gently.

“Can I ask you something?” She said, her face sympathetic and kind as she waited for your reaction.

“Sure,”

“Why didn’t you actually tell him that you weren’t dating Jamie?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” You sighed. “I didn’t really get a chance to in the hotel room, it was just such a switch of emotion,”

Emily nodded, watching you intently.

“...and then, the next morning...he said that he regretted kissing me. I just thought, like, what’s the point in telling him now? He already regrets it. It’ll make no difference. Then I thought about how he’d feel if I told him that he’d got it all wrong, and it was so stupid, but I didn’t want him to feel ashamed. You know? I didn’t want him to feel bad,”

“Everyone feels ashamed sometimes,”

“I know. I just wish I could stop it,”

“Why?”

The simple question caught you off-guard, and you stared at her open-mouthed, trying to find an answer.

“Why do you always want to fix everyone?” Emily pushed. You took a deep breath.

“I guess no-one fixed me. My mom, she...she wasn’t great. She was, for a while, but then--” You paused to try and push back the tears that had started to brim in your eyes. “But then she wasn’t, and I had to grow up quickly. Then when she died, my innocence died with her. I couldn’t fix her, and no one could fix me...so I try and fix everyone else,”

Emily nodded, and she gave you a warm hug as she allowed the conversation to end there.

---

Over the next month, things had really fallen back into place. Your relationships with the team had begun to form back into their concrete bonds. Spencer was the most difficult to bring round. His trust in you had chipped away slightly from your distance. You tried to bring the Wednesday night bonding sessions with him back into both of your schedules, and on the first Wednesday, you ended up spilling the entire story of Wyoming and Hotch. He listened intently, and didn’t pass any comment on the situation, but he offered you a small smile as you explained why your barriers came up. He understood, just as you’d known that he would - afterall, he did the same thing sometimes.

The following Wednesday, he took you to a bookstore that you’d never heard about and you spent three hours there, curled up in the reading corner, arguing about philosophy. Afterwards, you insisted on getting Thai take-out, and ended up staying the night at his place as you both sat on the couch, munching on the food and talking about anything and everything.

Spencer wasn’t much of a talker, but he’d always found comfort in you and enjoyed talking about random, niche subjects with someone who wanted to understand and learn from him. At the same time, he didn’t know everything, and he enjoyed hearing you talk about things in life that he hadn’t quite figured out yet.

You were extremely surprised to hear Hotch’s voice in your ear at 7am on the first Saturday of February.

When your phone rang, your mind settled straight into ‘agent mode’ as you answered it with sleep still in your eyes.

“Y/L/N,” You croaked.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

You coughed as you sat upright in bed, feeling like a giddy teenager. You cursed mentally at yourself as you shook your head, before realising that he couldn’t see you through a phone call.

“No, it’s okay. What’s wrong? Is there a case?”

“No, no, there’s no case,”

“Oh,” You said, surprised. The phone went silent for a moment and so did you.

“Do you want to go for a run?” He asked, somewhat meekly, and your eyes felt like they were bulging out of their sockets.

“...yeah,” was all you could get out, and you quickly ended the call as you raced to find your exercise gear, knocking over several ornaments in your bedroom and nearly head-butting the bathroom door.

“It’s fine,” Hotch convinced himself in the mirror. “She’s just one of the team, just a friend. It’s fine,”

Was it really fine to feel butterflies at his age over going for a run with a woman whilst he was seriously dating someone else?

------

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[graveyarddirtseries]

Graveyard Dirt & Salt

Chapter 7: Mena

Sitting up now, he pinned her with a look, that look he had when he was being a proper marine. It was commanding, cold and just firm enough to make her feel like a little girl caught in a lie. When his blue-grey eyes narrowed and chilled, they became weapons used to spear a person still, used to rend them open and bare to his scrutiny.

Another day came and it was one more Sister Mary Patrick wouldn't get to see.

Time always seemed so passively cruel to her. How despite anything which happened, it just ticked, ticked, ticked away.

Young Grace Harper had noticed this after her father died, when Christmas came and went and came again, she grew older and he would forever remain the same age.

Kneeling by his headstone in the Laurel Grove Cemetery, she would bring her father sunflowers plucked from her mother's garden, and tears that never seemed like they would ever stop.

This year Mena would become older than her father had ever gotten to be. And the thought unsettled her. She had claimed, during her wilder years in Atlanta, that she would be dead by the age he had been when he died.

But here she was, kneeling beside Sister Mary Patrick's resting place, hastily dug into the cemetery behind their church.

She didn't have any flowers to bring, her beloved rose bushes weren't in bloom yet and it was too late for the lilacs and wisteria.

But she brought something, because you had to offer something to the dead as a remembrance.

It was a small cloth doll, something she had made one day out of scraps of linen and fabric, wanting to give it to the nuns who went to sell their honey and goods at the farmer's market to give to some small child.

It never got to make that journey into town.

So it was placed at the base of the rough wooden cross that marked Sister Mary Patrick's grave. She would be in a better place.

Mena wouldn't lose another nun, she wouldn't let her girls live through this all over again. Mary Patrick would want them to rise from the ashes, she would say it was a lesson, hard taught, but hopefully learned, sent by God himself.

“Who the fuck let you and that ass clown decide anything about my sister without me?!”

The stillness of her morning was broken by the loud teenage boy, shouting at who she could only imagine was the poor Lieutenant somewhere in the morning mists of her convent grounds.

Pushing to her feet, she sought out the sound, wanting to silence the language and hopefully help the Lieutenant placate the boy.

“You know what I don't need you fucking idiots dealing with my shit!”

The marine's low tone was beginning to be heard as Mena rounded the corner of the cloister, finding both arguers standing beside the water pump for their well.

“I can deal with this myself!”

“Son, you couldn't even defend yourself or keep my back safe at that cabin. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with not being good with guns or fighting, but in this instance, your sister's survival would be best placed in the hands of Benny or myself.”

Mena approached the two, coming to a stop just behind the Lieutenant.

“I don't even need any of you!” Grayson stated.

“Why are you being such a stubborn little cabri?” The Lieutenant asked softly. “We want you here with us, we want to help you. But time is important and you're not ready for fighting or recon. You come with me, I get you trained up.”

“I'm not weak!” Grayson argued, like a child who knew he was, but hoped just words would convince the adults he was an old veteran, ragged and rough from war.

Reaching out, Mena placed her hand very, very lightly on the boy's shoulder, he jumped, but didn't leap away, just a twitch.

“I appreciate this is a conversation we must have, gentlemen, but there are nuns sleeping just over there and you are using some very potent language.”

“Sorry, Missy,” the Lieutenant said.

“Sorry,” Grayson murmured, embarrassed.

“Grayson,” she said. “I don't know Mr. Malone very well, but I do know is that he loves Annie and he will never leave her behind. He's going to find your sister and he'll bring her home to you.”

“Did you see his shoes?” Grayson demanded. “They were more expensive than my sister's first car.”

“Junker?” The Lieutenant teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Grayson shook his head. “No, she worked really hard to buy it new. I mean, it was basic as shit, but...”

Mena smiled. “You know,” she said. “I would kind of love to hear about her some more. If you don't mind telling me about Haley?” “You're just trying to distract me,” Grayson replied sullenly.

“I'm a nun, Grayson, I don't have the capabilities of trickery and lies,” she lied. “You get ten extra lashings in hell for each lie you tell.”

The Lieutenant beamed broadly, sitting down at the pump to flop his bag on the ground, digging through it. “You'll have to tell us all about Haley tonight around the fire,” he said. “Right now, we have to get hunting while the hunting is good.”

Mena gave Grayson's forearm a warm squeeze. “Be careful out there, you two? I want both of you back in good health.”

“What kind of mischief are you up to right now?” The Lieutenant called out after her.

“Well, there's a little girl who will be waking up to find she's been left behind and I want to be there for her.”

“You're a sweet girl, Missy.”

“Woman,” she stated, turning around to face him. “I'm a woman, Lieutenant. Girls are the things made of sugar and spice and everything nice.”

“And what are you made of then?” He teased.

“Oatmeal and granola and nothing interesting,” she returned. “See you two soon.”

Inside the convent, she passed a few nuns who were just entering the dining room after their morning prayers in their rooms, heading into the one she had given to Annie.

The child was in the middle of pulling on her little shoes, the pretty purple ones with velcro.

“Good morning,” she greeted the girl brightly. “Did you sleep well, honey?”

The child nodded, eyes darting past her to the empty hall beyond. Benny was usually the first person she saw in the morning, and Mena knew it wouldn't take her long to figure things out.

“I have to collect the eggs from the hen house for breakfast,” Mena went on smoothly. “Would you like to help me?”

Already putting two and two together, Annie sort of bowed her head for a moment, before furrowing her brow and nodding firmly.

“Come on,” Mena said, holding her hand out to the girl. “Let's go outside, it's beautiful this morning.”

Mena waited until they were in the morning sunshine, before she stopped Annie just under her peach tree.

“Sweetie, Mr. Malone had to leave us last night, but-” she added quickly as Annie begin to panic. “He promised me he'd be back and I told him that it was a great sin to lie to a nun.”

Annie absorbed this information for all of a second, before she bolted away from Mena, heading for the gate.

Halfway there, she was scooped up by the Lieutenant who had been loitering about the front of the church with a couple of the younger nuns, the marine holding the squirming girl gently, but firmly as she kicked and sobbed.

“Hey now, boo,” he cooed to her. “What's the ruckus?”

Annie didn't say anything, just reached her hands longingly towards the gate.

“Hey now,” he went on, setting the child down and squatting before her to rub away her tears. “Benny'll be back, he had to go out to find your mama, but he told me that he would be expecting you to be here when he came back and if you head out them gates, then I guess he won't be able to find you.”

Annie calmed somewhat, still sobbing pathetically before him.

“Now, you go ahead and cry, honeybee,” the Cajun cooed soothingly.

Mena knelt behind Annie, so both adults sort of encompassed the child.

“You wanna a hug from me or Mena?”

Annie turned to Mena and buried herself against Mena's chest.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Mena whispered over Annie's head.

The marine beamed. “You don't keep me around for my pretty face.”

All day Mena kept Annie close to her, wanting to distract the child.

But often her eyes would turn to the gates, or to a door, or anywhere Benny could pop up from.

“Maybe with no one left alive we can finally pick our own habit styles.”

They were outside, doing the washing the old fashioned way, hot water boiled over the fire, a kettle big enough to do a small load of laundry and some soap, the garments were spun around and around in the kettle with a baseball bat from their sport closet from when they took their annual summer picnic camping trip.

“That way we don't have to do so much washing,” Sister Mary Claire finished.

Mena felt several pairs of eyes on her and cleared her throat politely. “I think if any of you want to wear more practical items we can accommodate that.”

“Our habit has always been a proud symbol of our order,” Sister Thomas Aquinas argued. Mena knew she would be the last one to hold out to the old ways, she was set firmly in her beliefs.

“If you want to remain in the habit you can, but it might prove practical to change, something modest though, please. Let's not go too far into the realm of short shorts and halter tops.”

“There goes my summer look,” Sister Dymphna retorted, cackling along with a few of the younger nuns.

“I can't wait to get some floral patterns back into my life,” Sister Felicity Perpetua murmured.

“I think Sister Mary Patrick would have loved to have dressed plainly,” Sister Mary Agnes said.

Mena nodded. “She'd love for us to flourish in the wake of her passing.”

“Do you think we will?” Mary Monica asked.

“If we manage to learn some self defence from the Lieutenant, then I think we have a very good chance. But there will be change and some sacrifice.” Mena said.

“Will we really have to shoot people?” Mary Claire asked.

“They aren't people anymore,” Mary Elizabeth said. “They're dead, aren't they?”

Everyone looked at Mena, who continued wringing out the undergarment she had in hand.

She slowly and carefully pinned it to the line that ran from the side of the cloister to a pole about five feet away. There was a desire in her to avoid the question, but she knew she would have to answer it as best she could.

“We don't know,” she said finally to everyone's shock. When several nuns begin speaking at once, Mena held up her hands to silence them. “The Lieutenant isn't certain they are dead or just diseased, but!” She added as more questions came at her. “We can be assured, they are beyond our mortal help, so regardless. They are violent and they would most certainly kill you as witnessed by poor Mary Patrick. So don't hesitate to kill them, if you need to.”

“Will we be punished by God?” Mary Monica asked. “Is it a sin?”

“I can't answer that,” Mena said. “But I think, in my heart at least, we can safely say God did not put us on earth to allow ourselves to be picked off by these abominations. I think He would want us to fight and survive. That's our trial.”

“What about other things?” Felicity Perpetua asked.

“Such as?”

“The men?”

Most of the nuns began an uproar.

“I mean!” The young nun amended quickly. “Are we free to talk to them?”

“I never told you to not speak with them, just to be wary,” Mena said.

“But they're very secular in their speech,” Mary Monica pointed out.

“Just because they are, doesn't mean you will be.”

“And where does the line get drawn then?” Thomas Aquinas demanded.

“Wherever it needs to be to divide our world from theirs without isolating ourselves from them,” Mena returned coolly. Thomas Aquinas was...argumentative with her at the best of times and the worst.

“Think of this place as more than a convent now,” she went on. “It's a mission, and our mission is to offer shelter and protection for those who seek it here behind these walls. In return the Lieutenant and maybe others can help protect our way of life and our home.”

“Is...is God still with us?”

The voice was so soft, so shyly spoken that Mena took a moment to register it. None of her nuns had such a soft way about them, well...the novitiate did.

Mary Elizabeth sat, head bowed, her work laying damp in her lap.

An expected roar of assurances from the other nuns never came and Mena found herself looking at eight pairs of eyes all solemnly gazing at her.

Even Sister Gertrude, sitting in her chair, with her pretty sunhat on with one of her cats in her lap, managed enough clarity of mind to gaze over at her expectantly.

They didn't want reassurances, they wanted an answer that Mena never had. God was always just faith. You had faith that he was there, that he guided you, that he heard your prayers, but...this was too much for her to even know.

She had even wondered this herself recently, had been wondering about this since she saw the dead walking the earth.

Had He abandoned them after rapture happened? Had He never existed?

She could lie and say yes, she could lie and say no, but the only truth she could tell them was a sturdy, “I don't know.”

The nuns seemed to absorb this like a bumper car hitting a brick wall, it rocked them and they gave a single shudder that ran through the entire group, before they just sort of accepted it and went back to work.

Except Mary Elizabeth, who sort of hunched in on herself more and began to softly sob.

Setting down her own work, Mena moved towards the young woman and knelt smoothly down beside her, an arm going around the younger woman.

“Listen,” she said loud enough to address the other nuns as well. “I can't speak for your faith, if you think that God is still with us, then He is, but I just...I can't honestly answer you, Mary Elizabeth. Shy,” she amended, using the woman's real name, hoping to snap her out of her mood.

It seemed to work as the young woman looked up at her quickly at the sound of her own name used.

Hugging her closer, Mena went on, “but I do know that all of you have me and the Lieutenant now and Grayson and even Mr. Malone, though he may not stay. And if we have each other, then whether God is watching over those we lost in the rapture or wherever He may be, we have each other and that will make us stronger if we remain together.”

Mary Claire set her work aside and flopped down beside them. “I need a hug too, Mother Mena.”

“Me too,” Felicity Perpetua added, joining them hastily.

Before she knew it the other nuns were all clustered together, two of them going over to hold Sister Gertrude in her chair, an entire flock of white habits spread out on the grass, hugging and embracing each other, some of them sobbing a little, their pent up fear and anxiety freely flowing.

This was what Mena loved about her lot in life. It wasn't the church, it wasn't prayer or lighting candles or the relic of Saint Cecilia they kept in the reliquary.

It was that these were her girls, her nuns. They were the only family she had now and she had to protect them, they couldn't withstand another loss.

A shadow was cast over them all and Mena opened her eyes to a sight that had her heart skipping several beats. In the time it took to register the blood and the gore, she also registered the fact that it was plastered to the Lieutenant who was holding a deer carcass wrapped in a blue tarp in his arms bridal style, standing over them.

He was the epitome of filth. Standing out against the fluttering white of their drying habits beside him, covered in sweat and blood and dirt and other things Mena knew were best left to mystery.

“Oh, Lieutenant,” she scolded him, as her nuns returned to their work at the intrusion. “You scared ten years off my life.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I was about to ask if everything was okay?”

She nodded.

He turned to walk off, when she called out, “Lieutenant?”

Turning back to face her, the Cajun grinned a little nervously. “Yeah?”

“When was the last time you bathed, honey?” She asked.

“Oh,” his head dipped to the ground at his feet, peering over the deer in the tarp in his arms. “Uh...well...I walk myself through creeks here and there.”

Mena looked at the poor man, he tried hard, from what she could see, to be neat and orderly, but he was absolutely bordering on noxious. “We're doing laundry today, it's our day to do it, would you be so kind as to hand over your shirt and pants?”

“Well,” he began almost shyly. “It's...I'm not about to make you wash my skivvies,” he attempted a charming grin at her.

“Lieutenant, please? We're women, you think we don't have dirty clothes from time to time? Mary Agnes, could you maybe set aside some hot water for the bath for the Lieutenant?”

“Oh! No!” The marine protested. “Really! Ladies, I'm...I know I'm a dirty Cajun boy, you don't need to...”

“Don't be embarrassed, Lieutenant,” Mena insisted. “We'd prefer if you took a quick bath, actually.”

“Oh,” his face fell and for a moment Mena wished she hadn't wounded him as she did, but then he grinned crookedly. Dropping the deer, dropping his pack, the man shucked his shirt first and handed it over to her. “Start with that, I suppose.”

Tossing his shirt directly into the kettle, Mena nodded.

“I'm sorry if I'm a little ripe for you ladies,” the marine apologized. Again he sort of dipped his head shyly. “Guess you can't take the trash out of the trailer trash, yeah?”

Realizing how awful she must have made the poor man feel, Mena quickly stood up to follow him as he headed for the stump they were using as a butcher's block.

“Lieutenant,” she said, falling in stride beside him. “I didn't mean to embarrass you back there.”

He shook his head. “I'm a dirty boy,” he admitted. “It's the end of the world. I just...well, I hope I didn't offend you ladies none. I've been trying to keep neat, but...every day it's either the uggies coating you in something or hunting.”

She nodded. “Well, all the same, I shouldn't have brought it up so publicly. I suppose I'm just...disordered today.”

Stopping, he turned to her. “You alright?”

“I think so, just...accepting a few things, I guess. When you're done with the deer, I'll help you find some hot water and privacy for a wash. If you'd like.”

“If you'd like,” he repeated.

Staring up at the man's pretty blue-grey eyes, Mena couldn't decide if she wanted to weep or embrace the poor man, he put up such a front, but there were moments of real vulnerability in his eyes that tugged at her heart a little more than they should. He was like a child buried inside the body of a grown man. A grown man that, as he stood towering over her holding the deer carcass, she could so very clearly see his breathtaking power and strength.

“What happened here?” She asked, hoping to change the subject, to smooth over her faux pas in embarrassing him in company. Pressing her finger lightly to a deep, wide, jagged scar that tore down his side.

“Time and tides,” he replied casually. “Wanna learn how to gut and clean this doe?”

Glancing to the other nuns where Mena was supposed to be helping, she considered his invitation for a moment, before saying, “I shouldn't leave my chores to be someone else's burden.”

He nodded.

As she turned to leave him, he said, “you know...” he began. “I appreciate you washing my shirt and taking care of me. I don't need you to do it, understand, but I'm grateful all the same.”

“Lieutenant, our amenities are yours now if you need them. We can't just turn on our bathtub anymore because without power our pumps won't run, but we can heat you up some water for a good soak.”

“Holes in a bucket,” he pointed out.

“What's that?”

“Makeshift shower, holes in a bucket. It's faster and saves time.”

She smiled. “Oh. We might have to hook something up for it.”

He nodded. “Or we could figure out a way to get power back to the convent...I don't know much about electrical engineering, but...solar or wind maybe? I'll give it a think.”

Mena brushed her hand over his shoulder warmly. “Well, for now don't worry yourself too much about our power. We're just grateful you're bringing us home meat.”

He beamed. “It's what I'm good at.”

“Tell Grayson to bring us his clothing too, if he can, we'll wash those as well.” Mena added as the marine turned to join the young man at the stump.

“Sure sure.”

Rejoining the nuns at the fire, Mena eased down to her work wringing out the clean clothing.

It was an entire blissful minute before Dymphna asked, “so is looking okay with this new order, Mother Mena? Because I'm looking and that marine is beautiful.”

“The apple was fine on the tree, Dymphna,” Mary Agnes warned playfully.

The nuns laughed softly, but Mena was quiet, head bent to her work.

“It was a joke,” Dymphna apologized.

“No,” Mena began, “it was fine, just...we should do our best to try to make him feel welcome here. I'm afraid we've begun our relationship with the Lieutenant a little unsteadily. He's given us much more than we have shown him and I think we should remember that. And I'm not innocent of these charges either. I didn't even want him here. That was my biggest mistake, could have cost us more than just...what we've lost.”

“Here's your shirt, Lieutenant,” she said, placing the cleaner, dry shirt down beside the metal wash tub she had been filling half full of deliciously hot water, bringing some cool water in to lower the boiling temperature a little for the man to ease himself down into it.

Coated in blood now from the deer, the marine eyed the tub warily. “Not sure I can fit myself in this little thimble,” he remarked, nudging it with a boot.

Mena smiled and turned to set the jug she had been using to bring cool water in for the bath beside the door. “Well, you can try all you want. Stick your feet in it at least, heat them up nice and warm, then start at the bottom and work upwards.”

Behind her she heard two thuds and a zip and turned before it registered, nearly catching the Lieutenant in mid disrobe.

“Oh!” She covered her eyes.

“You had your back turned,” he replied sheepishly. “Thought you were leaving.” Still it sounded like he wasn't shamed into redressing as she then heard the clothing fall and the soft splashes of him stepping into the tub.

“Do you...need anything else?” She asked.

“Well, just hold on now, because if my ass gets stuck in this tub, we're going to need some Crisco and a whole lot of leverage,” he teased, causing Mena to giggle, it was half nervous, half amused. She wouldn't ever admit it, but she might have loosened her hand shield a little. Just a little! In case he fell.

“Alright, I'm in, got myself covered, your chastity is safe.” He remarked. “For now.”

Dropping her hands, she looked at him, crammed into the tub like a sardine in a can, towel draped across the important bits, legs spidered up and out, feet planted on the floor. From the amount of water displaced on the floor, she imagined there wasn't a whole bunch left in the tub with the giant man.

“Well, looks relaxing,” she lied.

“Hm.”

“Let me get you some fresh hot water to replace what you've lost,” she said, moving towards him with another towel in hand. “And here, if you put this behind you, just...in here,” she leaned him forward and tucked the thick towel between his lower back and the hard metal rim of the tub.

His body was hot and slick from the water, and as much as she didn't want to insult him again, she knew from the grime that came off on her, that she would need to change her habit to a clean one again.

“How long have you gone without a proper bath?” She asked him.

“A long time,” he admitted. “Maybe since this all began. I couldn't find a good place, the water's dangerous if it's over your head, it can be over the heads of the sinkers.”

“Sinkers?”

“Yeah, the dead will get into water over their heads and sink down, they don't live as long down there as the land ones, but they like to haunt the depths and grab ya when you're not expecting it. Stay out of the deep waters, yeah?”

“I will,” she replied, horrified.

When Mena returned to the bathroom - that ineffectual place that mostly they just used for bathing in privacy in and dumping the water down the shower drain into their lagoon far beyond the wall, she found the Lieutenant slumped over sideways in the small tub, his arm draped dramatically on the floor.

“Are you alright?” She asked, carefully adding more water to his bath, mindful of his flesh and the speed which she introduced the warmer water.

“Marat,” he replied with a grin. “You ever see that painting?”

“You're playing in the bath now?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Just waiting for you to come back and warm me up, this floor is frigid.”

“Then get your arm off it,” she returned, gently nudging it with the toe of her shoe.

His hand grasped at the toe of her shoe and he lifted it a little.

“Stop it! I have hot water in my hands,” she scolded, laughing despite the situation as he released her and continued to fidget in the water. “You're very fidgety for a marine. ADHD?”

“No thanks, I already have some,” he teased, easing back against the fluffy, now soaked towel she had rested behind him. “I don't know. Maybe...something undiagnosed. Made school hard, you know?”

“Um-hm.” She set the bucket down, there was still some hot water left in it, but she didn't want to scald the poor man in the tub, so she left the rest to cool a little. “Are you at least getting clean while you fidget?”

“I think so...” he remarked, eyeing his arms and legs. “But my feet are freezing out there on the floor.”

Mena moved to his feet and dipping a clean cloth into the warm water of his tub, she helped him clean and warm his feet.

“Service comes with this?”

She smiled. “Missions clean the feet of the poor, why can't I clean the feet of the mighty too?”

He dropped his head back and grinned. “Well, don't serve me because you have to. I'm not above scrubbing my own damned hooves.”

Mena laughed. “I like you, Lieutenant. You're a calming presence.”

“Even with all my fidgeting?” He asked.

“Yes.”

He beamed wider. It was a very boyish, almost sheepish grin he had, something that could bend a person's will if he turned it on just hard enough to charm, but he held it back with modesty and that sort of shy way he only allowed one side to lift up higher than the other. Taking hold of the bucket of now properly cooled water, Mena tucked his feet inside it and allowed them to soak in the warmth.

“Why are you taking good care of me?” He asked. “Not that I'm ungrateful, but...seems a little much.”

“I was hoping to work up to a proper thank you to you for all you've done so far for us.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked.

“Hmm.”

Sitting up now, he pinned her with a look, that look he had when he was being a proper marine. It was commanding, cold and just firm enough to make her feel like a little girl caught in a lie. When his blue-grey eyes narrowed and chilled, they became weapons used to spear a person still, used to rend them open and bare to his scrutiny.

The duality of the man was both sweet and gentle and hard and firm, in more ways than just his mental state.

“Come here,” he commanded her with a casual crook of his finger and despite her slight fear, Mena found herself obeying him, shuffling on her knees towards the top of him, eyes unable to look away from his.

With her maybe a hand's width away from his face, he studied her hard and long, before rasping, “you up to something?”

“No.” She swore.

“If you're working towards something, just tell me,” he assured her. “I take honesty better than manipulation.”

“I just wanted to show my appreciation for you,” she whispered, not at all shaking a little because of the intensity of his eyes and the rasp of his baritone.

It had been a long, long, very long time since she had been this close to a naked man and maybe she made a mistake wanting to wash his feet, maybe she had made a bunch of mistakes. And maybe a few of them had been on purpose, because she was still a flesh and blood woman and he was a very, very charming man.

“Don't be scared,” he replied suddenly, hand wet and warm from the bath on her shoulder now, pushing her back a little gently. “I was just worried you might be trying to get me to do something wild like kill the boy child or something. And then I was worried you were trying to seduce me or something, because there's no better way to prey on a person than to prey on their loneliness.”

She shook her head. “No, I was just...trying to be kind. Is that how you interrogate everyone in your life?”

“Just marines,” he returned. “Honestly. Don't worry, I would never hurt you. Just...tell me things, yeah? Be open. I'm more forgiving than God.”

“Blasphemy,” she pointed out, moving back to his feet.

“I think we need more honesty between the two of us if we plan on existing here for a while together,” he added.

“I agree.” She looked up at him. “Are you really that lonely? Don't they train marines to isolate and survive on their own.”

“Well sure, but...you can train a man to live in isolation, doesn't mean it's good for his head.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Truthfully, when I first got here, all I desperately wanted to do was talk to someone who didn't grunt or groan. Well...at first, anyways.” He added with a roguish grin.

She smiled sadly. “I'm sorry. I sent you away. All you wanted was to talk.”

“No, you did the right thing. People aren't the same anymore, you can't just throw open your doors to them. Seems it's survival of the fittest out there now, the uggies are just mosquitoes at the BBQ.”

“Well, you have us now. And we wanted to invite you and Grayson to eat with us tonight, in the dining hall.”

“Really?” He asked, eyebrows raising.

“Um-hm.”

“Ladies say 'yes', Missy,” he teased, repeating something she had often said to Annie in front of him.

Without thinking, she smacked his knee with the back of her hand and clucked her tongue at him.

He laughed. “You can't hit me after you bathed my feet! I don't think Jesus would approve!”

Mena laughed with him, though a little more moderately. “Behave yourself then.” She warned. “And tomorrow when you go out, try to find some clothes that might fit you, so next time we do laundry you have a change you can slip in to.”

“That's like asking me to find a Babe Ruth rookie card, Missy. I'm a big fella and the Georgian backwoods has some little, tiny men.”

[isekaidreams]

Haley Halter

[sims4wcif]

Hi! Wcif clothes for females inspired by this music video? (alpha and maxis match)

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Hi! Here’s what I found:

Tops:

This top

See through mesh tshirts

Night top

Half Sheer Button Top

Psycho Lace Blouse

Half Sheer Longsleeve Button Up

Ruffle Wing Top

Assorted Sheer Tops

Haley Sheer Blouse

Ruffle Half Sheer Shirt

Lace Ribbon Bustier

Siffon Frill Blouse Patterned

Siffon Frill Blouse Solid

See through shirring blouse

Skirts:

This skirt

Stealer Skirt

Lace teared miniskirt

Lace teared midiskirt

Pleated miniskirt

Lina Latex Skirt

Asymmetric Pleated Skirt

Pleated/mesh Miniskirt

Bomb Bomb Skirt

Dresses:

This halter dress

Elle dress in Alpha and Maxis Match

Siffron Frill Long Dress

Shoes

Sweet Spot Shoes/sock set

I hope this helped! P.S. there are a lot of similar items in many of Newen’s sets which you can find here.