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#I figured this would make a good reason for them to be in his office!
possessionisamyth · 2 days
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Not to kick a dead horse, but there is a way to make Pier's death genuinely very loaded and tragic that fandom consensus just seems to continue to miss! I've never seen a take about Piers's death being about PIERS, but all about "ooohh chris lost a good one" and how the two are not able to fuck anymore. But I am going to free you from these shackles while I zero in on Chris' comment of
"I wanted him to replace me."
Surely Piers was being trained to take Chris' job ideally after a decent retirement party, but neither of them get that luxury because Edonia happens, and Chris is gone. The beloved captain has vanished, and the person who's supposed to take his job is right there, so they give it to him. It's Piers responsibility to not only be a face of what the BSAA represents, but also the heavy shackles of expectations are slapped onto him.
Everyone wants Chris, which means Piers can't be himself nor figure out how to run the same jobs his way. No, it has to be Chris' way. There's no time for anyone to adjust and shift gears either with the C-Virus outbreaks, the terrorist attacks from Ada*(Carla), and the search party he shambled together to locate the missing Redfield. So he tries his damnedest to fill Chris' shoes and suddenly realizes just how out of his depth he is. There were so many reasons people called Chris for certain tasks, even tasks Piers hadn't known about and definitely hadn't been trained on, that Piers never saw. There's no mentor to dial. No reference other than fellow soldiers saying things like, "We don't know how, he just got it done," which is the least helpful thing in the world. Hell, there's barely any notes to go through when he searches Chris' office for a semblance of a hint as to how he should do this job.
Maybe it turns out Chris was doing his best to gently ease that heavy mantle into Piers' hands. It's why his scheduled retirement seemed so far away at the time. Perhaps, after one comment too many where he'd been accidentally addressed by the name of his captain for the 50th time, Piers breaks. He can't do this. He's not ready for this. He needs the one person who did all this back by any means necessary, so he drops all the work and joins the search party. He verbally harasses an amnesiac Chris into coming back because maybe it isn't that bad. Maybe Chris just needs a reminder of what he's been doing everyday for literal years and things would be back to normal again.
But it's not. It's messier. It's uglier. This isn't the Chris he worked so hard to fight alongside. There are glimpses of him in there, but most of the time in China, Piers feels like he's working with a stranger. People die, and Chris keeps pushing forward no matter how much he's shouted at, and Piers feels like this is all his fault. The deaths are his fault because he couldn't buckle down and do what Chris originally wanted him to do. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him.
So when they go to that underwater facility, and their backs are against the wall, there's the looming sense of failure and a terrifying amount of pressure. If they get out of this alive, who knows when Chris would be back in shape to work again if that ever happens. Piers would have to be responsible. He was already responsible for the squad he gathered to take up this job, and they were skewed into pieces around downtown Lanshiang. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him, and Piers failed on all accounts. He couldn't get Chris back the way he was supposed to be. His squad was dead. The responsibility he'd have to take up if they made it out alive would be nigh unbearable, and then he gets infected.
He gets infected and suddenly the decision is so easy. To let go. To hope for the best. To be the one left behind when he was supposed to be the one moving towards the future. Another glimpse of the Chris that Piers knew is seen, a more confident glimpse wherein Chris does everything he can to try and save him. And Piers smiles when Chris fails. When he saves Chris. When he seems to finally do one thing right after things never seemed to stop falling apart.
It's the last thing Chris sees. That smile and the ever encroaching weight of immeasurable responsibility that'll grasp him tight as soon as he breaks the surface. The weight Piers couldn't take from him, and maybe never wanted in the first place.
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leatherbookmark · 2 years
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sits. i wonder in what ways would things change if gusu lan were slaughtered instead of yunmeng jiang, with lxc and lwj the only ones remaining
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savanir · 4 months
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DP x DC prompt [3]
during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!
But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.
Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.
But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.
Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.
he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.
now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.
far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.
“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking” 
“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”
there is a pause …  he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.
“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.
“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”
“oh you simply must come visit!” 
well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?
things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.
their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.
but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.
There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?
Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.
Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t. 
He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.
so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.
It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.
it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere
Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy. 
And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.
Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?
He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.
he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.
Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.
If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions. 
Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.
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pathologicalreid · 11 months
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buried alive | S.R.
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in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
category: angsty
content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.
word count: 2.9k
a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.
part two part three
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You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”
“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.
It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.
“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.
Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”
You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”
Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.
“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.
“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.
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There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.
“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.
You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”
Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.
The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”
You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”
The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.
“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.
Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.
Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.
“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.
You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.
They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.
You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.
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Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.
“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.
Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”
Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”
“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.
Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”
“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.
After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”
“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.
Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”
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It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.
The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.
Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.
Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.
Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.
Your team would find you. They had to find you.
They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.
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Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”
“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.
He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.
Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”
But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.
They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”
Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.
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You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.
It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.
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The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.
“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”
Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”
“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.
What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.
Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.
Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.
He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.
“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.
What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.
Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.
It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.
Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.
The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.
“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”
Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.
Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”
He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.
Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”
To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.
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You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.
According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.
Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”
A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”
He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.
You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.
“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.
In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”
Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?
You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”
His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.
Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.
He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.
Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.
He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.
“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.
Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”
part two
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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
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in sickness and in health
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words: 1k
warnings: doctors office, physical appointment, needle warning!, fear of needles/medical stuff, established relationship, husband!rafe, soft!rafe pregnancy cw
“you ready to go?” rafe asks, swinging his car keys around his finger.
“uh, yeah…” you look down to your own hand, keys clenched in your first.
“you wanna drive?” rafe asks, frowning. you never drive your own car when he's available.
“um… i just figured you wouldn't wanna go.” you shrug. “its just a physical.”
“it's still the doctors, and the doctors make you nervous.” 
rafe isn't wrong, you're not a fan of anything medical, but it's just your family doctors office, not the hospital or anything too scary.
“don't you have golf with top?” you scheduled your appointment for the same time he usually meets up with topper at the country club, thinking it would be a good time to pop in real quick.
“i canceled when you put your appointment on the calendar. do you not want me to come?” rafe frowns.
“no, i do! i just figured-” you shrug. “i don't know, you wouldn't want to.”
“what did our vows say baby?” rafe asks.
“huh?” 
“in sickness and in health. im coming.” rafe takes the car keys out of your hand, tossing them back into the bowl on your entrance table. “and im driving, of course.”
--
“thanks for coming with me rafey.” you squeeze his hand, eyes on the clock as the minutes tick by. you arrived early for your appointment, only to be told the doctor was running behind. “even though im not really sick.” you giggle at how seriously he takes his vows.
“i would never expect you to go alone, honey.” rafe simply says. “now, do you want me to go in the room with you or should i wait out here? i don't mind either way.”
“um… actually can you come in with me?” you ask shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “i need to get my flu shot and you know how much i hate needles.”
“shit, a shot?” rafe leans forward to pick his water bottle up off the table, thrusting it into your hands. “here, hydrate. don't want you passing out.”
“thanks.” you take a sip of the water. rafe came with you once long before you were married to get blood drawn, and you think you traumatized him by passing out right after the needle left your arm.
“do you want me to get a snack from the vending machine, love?” rafe questions, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“no, but do you think we could go out to lunch after?” you pout out your bottom lip, although there really is no reason to as rafe quickly agrees.
--
“and you're alright with your husband being in here?” the doctor asks.
you nod enthusiastically. “yup! i asked him, since im gonna be getting the flu shot.”
your doctor nods, remembering from last year how much you hated the needle. “alright, i will just have you sit in here mr. cameron for a moment while we get a urine sample.”
you feel extra thankful for accepting the water from rafe in the waiting room as you're easily able to fill up the sample cup before placing it in the cupboard.
“alright, the labs will get to work on it right away.” your doctor nods. “will probably be done by the end of your appointment, if not soon after.” 
“awesome.” you nod, heading back into the exam room, smiling when you realize rafe was patiently waiting for you to return.
the doctor goes through your normal exam, asking you questions and checking your vitals, making notes to add to the system later.
“alright, it all looks good. why don't you hop up on the table and we can do your flu shot?”
“okay.” you swallow heavily, looking to rafe who stands with you, gripping your hand and allowing you to press your face into his chest.
“don't tell me when.” you say, muffled by rafes shirt. “just do it.”
you feel the poke and stiffen out, letting out a small sound that hurts rafes chest to hear, holding you tighter as the doctor withdrawals the needle and covers your arm with a bandage.
“all done! you did great. just lay down.” 
you lay back on the bed, eyes closing as you breath, thankfully not feeling the urge to pass out.
“im going to have a nurse bring you in some crackers and apple juice while i get your results back from the urine test.”
“thank you.” you manage to mumble as your doctor leaves.
you blink your eyes open to look up at rafe. “that sucked, but thanks for being here.” you smile, rafe bending down to press a quick kiss to your lips as the nurse comes in.
“i got ‘em.” rafe holds the two cups, allowing you to pick out a cracker and eat it before realizing how dry your mouth is. you manage to sit up, head still slightly dizzy, to take a sip of juice, the sugary drink instantly making you feel better.
you keep snacking until your doctor returns, a stack of papers in her hands.
“feeling good?” she questions, to which you quickly nod.
“yes, thank you.”
“so, just to quickly go over your results…” she frowns when she looks at the paper. 
“what's wrong?” rafe asks.
“i need to ask you to step out of the room, mr. cameron.” she says.
“no!” you squeal, before quickly composing yourself. “no, i want him here. especially if something is wrong.”
“your results look good except for an elevated hormone called hcg. it's a sign of pregnancy.”
“im… im pregnant?”
“yes. the results indicate more than three weeks pregnant.”
you look up to rafe, watching him process the information as tears well in his eyes. he finally looks down at you as tears fall.
“baby… we are gonna be parents.”
you let out a sob, not even realizing that you were already crying as well as rafe pulls you into a tight hug.
“ill give you guys a moment.” the doctor quickly steps out of the room.
“oh my god.” you press your hands against your stomach. “oh my god!”
“im… im so happy.” rafe laughs, pressing a kiss against your lips.
“oh rafe, you're gonna be the best daddy ever.” you cup his cheek, pulling him back in for a more intense kiss.
sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie
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Since it came up recently, link to that therapist on twitter 👆 who was discussing Bucky's terribile therapist in TFATWS and how they should’ve been. 
Transcript:
"As a therapist myself I've had a lot of feelings about Bucky's therapist on TFatWS, and have decided I need to rant a little to let it all out. I've worked w/active duty, trauma survivors, and court ordered clients, so here's some therapeutic conjecture on Bucky's therapy:
Aesthetically her office and presentation don't fit for someone who has been through the trauma that he’s been through. A client like this would need something non-threatening and safe- the whole vibe is overly formal and official in an office building, not at all therapeutic.
6 months working together she calls him Mr. Barnes and then James-he has identity issues and is struggling with who he is, so I think that one of the 1st things they would have done is figure out what he is comfortable being called, by whom and what that means for him.
He is still full out lying to her about pretty much everything including PTSD sx—I’m not saying clients never lie if they have good therapists, but if after 6 months he still doesn’t feel like he can be truthful at all then they haven’t built any trust/ solid therapeutic rapport
The pen and notebook thing-that’s clearly a trigger for him, there’s no reason to antagonize him and take notes in session like a punishment, it’s a power play on her part and it only emphasizes his lack of control in being forced into therapy (she should know his hx w/notebooks)
The whole little arm motion she made when she said “they need to make sure you don’t…” – that made so much light of what has happened to him, he probably feels like his arm is only good as a weapon and things like that will not help him accept it as part of his body
The rules, UGH the rules—from how they were talking about them clearly not something he actively created for himself, more like directives that he’s been ordered to adhere to—something fed to him and reinforced, feels like a way to sign off on liability only
THE AMENDS—this is probably my biggest issue. Amends are for people who need to take accountability for their actions and the repercussions of those choices. He had NO choice. He was a victim of horrific crimes against him, and framing it in a way that he needs to make up for
the crimes that others used him for is abhorrent. The lack of trauma informed care as astounding in the way it is being framed that he has to atone for sins that weren’t his. Its clearly reinforcing the idea in his head in ep 2 when he says “HYDRA were my people".
NO, HYDRA were your captors. They were not your people. That type of thinking needs to get deconstructed and challenged. He can dedicate himself to bringing good into the world and righting wrongs that happened WITHOUT taking on the responsibility of those actions.
Her whole attitude and demeanor were condescending and demeaning. I know some people have said “I love how she calls him out on his bullshit!” That’s not what I see happening. I call my clients out on their shit all the time—this was not that.
And I can only do that with clients ONCE we’ve built the type of relationship where it’s going to be therapeutic for them to hear it, and it’s done intentionally and with purpose. She just came off shaming and mean because they don’t seem to have any form of therapeutic rapport.
She said “you have no history, no family”- there is no therapeutic reason for that, and she’s wrong. He most likely has family alive (he used current tense when talking about his sister) and he was close to Shuri and TChalla, his history is vital to understanding him
When she said “Look, I know that you have been through a lot, but you’ve got your mind back. You are being pardoned. These are good things. You’re free.”—Yeah this feels really dismissive and like toxic positivity. “I know you’ve been through a lot BUT BE HAPPY!!??”
He certainly doesn’t seem to feel like he’s free (especially having therapy mandated), and you can’t just tell someone they’re free. I felt like she was pretty much just like, “shake it off, look to the future!” which feels really shitty when you’ve experienced excessive trauma.
HELLO breach of confidentiality, just introducing herself to Sam as his therapist and confirming it to Walker and the whole police station, it doesn’t matter if they know he’s in therapy you do not break someone’s privacy like that, he still deserves some control over his tx.
Ordering Sam into a session, NO, he’s not your client and you don’t know him well enough to know if that’s appropriate or if it would be harmful to either, and you haven’t asked your client for his consent to have another person in his session
Forcing a trauma victim who was stripped of his bodily autonomy for 70 years into a physically intimate exercise with a coworker that he’s barely interacted with in the last several months? NOPE, just reinforcing to Bucky she has control over him the way his handlers used to
To me, I think she is more focused on signing off on his psychological eval that he isn't a liability rather than any actual healing or attention to his trauma. This unfortunately isn’t unusual in the military where “mental health treatment” is focused on being mission ready.
They are making sure he’s ready to be an “asset” w/ mandated therapy, which he shouldn’t even be forced to do as part of his pardon because he shouldn’t have needed a pardon at all because he was a victim of horrific war crimes, brainwashing, and dehumanization for 70 years.
I’m just saying, if that was me he would be on my big squishy couch, bright open windows, bowl of Hershey kisses, random fidget toys, and two therapy dogs laying all over him while we work through that trauma and he builds back his identity and finds the calm he wants so badly.
And yes he would probably need someone who would see through his BS, call him out when he needs it, not be overly "touchy feely", but only if he feels safe and there is trust, where he gets to work on what HE wants, not what others think he needs.
Anyway thanks for coming to my TEDTalk, I❤️my work and I think being a therapist on retainer for the Avengers would've been a fucking trip, they all needed a team of mental health professionals at their disposal 24/7 and things would've been so much better🤣
ps. They can be a good therapist and just not be a fit for the client, that happens regularly. We know when to make it part of the conversation and when to refer out. Nothing good is going to come out of a contemptuous therapeutic relationship, mandated or not.
pps. That whole situation and the scene with Zemo was so rough. I can't imagine how much it brought back the violation, humiliation, anger, and helplessness of when he was the WS. I'm just imagining him having a therapist he trusts and being able to process that afterwards ����😭😭"
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badkitty3000 · 2 months
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Breaking The Rules
Five x Plus Size Female Reader, Words: 8,159, One-shot
Warnings: Smut, slight Daddy kink
So I received a very lovely request from someone I won't name, but they asked for something very specific:
"There aren't that many Five x plus size reader fics, And I think that should be changed"
I immediately jumped on this idea, because yes, this does need to change. Body representation is very important. I fully admit that I normally write Five with petite women, and that's usually because he's not a huge guy himself, so I tend to make them smaller. That's kind of the standard formula I suppose: bigger guy, smaller girl? But it doesn't have to always be that way. Everyone should be represented in a positive way.
Anyway, I have tried my best to fulfill this request and hopefully I do it justice. 😽❤️☂️
You had just been transferred from Records to Case Management. It was a pretty big promotion, but you had worked hard for it and deserved it. You were excited to be out of the stuffy records room and into the main population of employees since you were by nature a very social person. At one point you had thought about training for an agent position, but decided against it. Even though that’s really what you dreamed of doing. Instead, you figured vying for an executive position would be the best route, but that would take a few more years in the machine.
Part of your job was taking the data that you put together and assigning a particular agent to the case. You were good at solving puzzles, which is why you were put in this department to begin with, but you were also very good at reading people. You loved getting to know new people and their personalities, and what made them tick. People in general were fascinating to you, and the Commission had plenty of personalities.
As usual, you had no problem fitting in with your new coworkers. You had some sort of energy or charisma that drew others in. Maybe it was your infectious laugh, or your inappropriate sense of humor. Or just that way that you had of putting everyone around you at ease. Whatever it was, it was a source of pride for you. You liked being the one people gravitated to.
There was one person that did not seem as smitten with you as everyone else, and that was Number Five Hargreeves. You knew of him, of course. Everyone did. He was a legend among legends and there was a reason for that. You hadn’t been there the first time around, when he was fresh out of the Apocalypse, but when he came back years later as a younger version of himself, it was all anyone could talk about.
Five had a reputation for being aloof and if you caught him on the wrong day, he’d cut you down with some biting insult that was just as powerful as any physical harm he could do. He was smart, agile, and brutally honest. He was also hot as hell.
There seemed to be no end to the line of women that would purposefully parade past him on a daily basis. You couldn’t blame them, though. You’d caught yourself staring a few times, as you watched him read over a file with that serious expression of his, before he nodded a curt thank you and disappeared in a flash of blue. But you weren’t really that interested in him and you knew for a fact that he didn’t date inside the office. You admired that about him, actually, because neither did you.
Just because he wasn’t sleeping around the Commission, however, didn’t mean he wasn’t getting some action elsewhere. When you work for an organization that can see anything and everyone across all timelines and at any point in time…well, rumors are bound to start spreading. And you had heard a lot of them.
As with all rumors, it was hard to determine how much of it was true, but you could at least believe what you heard about his usual taste in women. Petite, thin, perky boobs, a flat stomach, and a small, tight ass. The guys at the switchboard loved to give descriptions of Five’s latest conquests, and they all sounded about the same. But hey, good for him, everyone has a type.
So, even if you were somehow interested in him from a romantic standpoint, you wouldn’t have made the cut anyway. You didn’t fit that stereotypical mold of those other women with your wide hips, slightly bigger breasts and butt, and a stomach that had never been flat. You doubted his usual dates had stretch marks on their thighs and hips, or even a small amount of cellulite on their ass. Not that you cared. Everyone’s bodies were different, after all.
Being a bigger sized woman didn’t bother you. You were confident in your body and made no apologies about it. Just because you couldn’t fit into the size negative two jeans that were constantly shoved in your face on every clothing store mannequin, didn’t mean you weren’t going to wear what you wanted. Short skirts, tight blouses that hugged your chest, or low cut, strappy dresses. If you liked it and it fit, who the fuck cared what anyone else thought? You liked yourself and your body, and if someone else didn’t, then that was their problem.
You liked sex, too, and you had no problems in that department either. You’d had many boyfriends, and a few one-night stands. Currently, you were unattached, but that was ok. There would be another man along at some point and you weren’t going to settle for someone you didn’t like. In the meantime, you’d ogle the eye candy at work.
It was a typical day when you had your first real interaction with Five. Sitting in the breakroom with your lunch, laughing loudly with your coworkers, the room suddenly became very quiet. You looked over to see Five strolling casually in, heading for the coffee station. He didn’t speak to anyone, or really even look in their direction, but there were nervous glances all around. One by one, your friends quietly made some excuse and got up to leave. Eventually, it was just you left at the table.
“Aren’t you going to flee in terror with the rest of them?”
You looked up, surprised to see that he was actually talking to you. You pointed to your salad in front of you. “I’m still eating. And you don’t really scare me, sorry.”
Five looked thoughtful for a second and you saw the glimmer of a smile before he took another sip of coffee.
“Nice work on the Edinburgh case, by the way.”
You nodded. “Thanks. I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”
Five shrugged. “I pay attention. Especially when I see real talent.”
You frowned. “So, you’re stalking me, is that what you’re telling me?”
Five almost choked on his coffee. “What? No! Why would you…”
“I’m kidding!” you laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Thank you, though. I appreciate the compliment.”
“Oh,” Five said, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re welcome.” Then he cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to finish your meal.”
“You don’t have to go, you know,” you said as he headed for the door. He stopped and looked back at you and you gestured to one of the empty seats. “It’s ok to relax sometimes. Maybe be social? And I don’t bite…at least not without prior consent,” you added with a wink.
Five stood there for a few seconds in thought, and you figured he was conjuring up some perfectly crafted insult for you. Instead, you saw his mouth twitch up at the corner and he gestured to you with his coffee cup.
“Well, that is very good to know. Consent is always important.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.
A few days later you were standing with your friends in the hallway at the end of the workday, talking about the upcoming Commission pickleball tournament you were all playing in. One of your best players had been injured on a job and now you were down a body. As you were discussing options, you saw Five walking in your direction.
“Hey, Hargreeves!” you yelled. “You up for some pickleball?”
Five stopped in his tracks and actually looked around, as if there could be another Hargreeves standing right behind him. Then he looked back at you, thoroughly confused.
“What the hell are you doing?” whispered one of your friends.
“What?” you replied. “The guy’s like a hundred years old, he probably fucking loves pickleball.” You turned back to Five. “We need another player, you game?”
Still rooted to the spot, Five shook his head slowly. “Thanks for the invite. But I’ll have to decline.”
There was an audible sigh of relief from the rest of your group. You rolled your eyes. “Come on! It’ll be fun. You know what fun is, don’t you?”
Five narrowed his eyes, but you could see there was no bite to it. “Yes, I know what fun is.”
“Well, I promise this will be all sorts of fun.” You gave him a big smile. “And as a bonus, you’ll get to watch me run around in a short skirt.”
Your friend next to you slapped you on the arm. “What is wrong with you?” they hissed.
Five actually smiled for a second, you were sure of it. “Tempting, but again, I have to decline.” Then he continued on his way down the hall.
Over the next few weeks, you made it your personal mission to try and get Five to loosen up. Whether you personally delivered case files to him just as an excuse to talk to him, or purposefully followed him into the breakroom, you wouldn’t leave him alone until you got him to at least smile at something you said. After a while, you noticed he was much more relaxed around you. Eventually, you and he were officially friends, much to the amazement of everyone else around you. He even started seeking you out on his downtime.
“Hey there, handsome,” you joked as Five strode up to your desk one day. “Something I can do for you, or did you just miss me?”
“You know, I could report you to human resources for sexual harassment,” he said as he perched on the edge of your desk, folding his arms across his chest with a smile. He had a standard manilla file folder in one hand.
“It’s only harassment if you don’t like it,” you replied, pointing a pen at him.
“I’m not sure that’s accurate.”
“Sure it is,” you said as you jabbed him in the arm with the pen, laughing when he frowned and rubbed at the area. “But seriously, did you need something?”
“Maybe. I just wanted to run this by you.” He slapped the case file on your desk.
“What is it?”
“A case I was assigned to. I read it over though, and I don’t think it’s right. I wanted your opinion.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Me? The legendary Mr. Five wants my lowly opinion?”
“Just shut up and read the fucking file.”
With a laugh, you opened it and started reading. He watched you, rather intently you noticed, while you read. You frowned and shook your head, pointing at a paragraph. “Right here, this isn’t true. The clockmaker didn’t take a carriage to work that day. He walked.”
Five nodded. “That makes this whole case pointless, then. I’d be targeting the wrong person.”
“Shit, you’re right.” You looked up at him. “Good catch.”
“It looked off somehow, but I couldn’t figure it out. I knew you would, though.”
Normally you’d say something snarky to bust his balls, but he was being truly sincere and his compliment meant a lot to you. “Thanks, Five.”
He shrugged and grabbed the file off your desk. “Alright, see you later.”
As he turned around to leave, you couldn’t help yourself. “Hey, Five?”
He stopped and turned. “Yeah?”
“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away.”
Five shook his head while you cackled at your own joke. “Can’t even make it ten seconds without treating me like a piece of meat. You’re hopeless.”
The following day, you were in the breakroom getting some coffee when you overheard a conversation by some of your coworkers.
“…yeah, I heard it’s not good. Took a shot right to the chest.”
“I heard it was a head shot; that he’s barely alive.”
“No way, I don’t believe it. Not him.”
You turned toward the group, coffee cup in hand. “Who are you talking about?”
“You haven’t heard? Your buddy was shot up pretty bad today.”
You frowned, lowering your cup. “Who, Five?”
“Yeah. I only heard bits and pieces so far, but it doesn’t sound great. They brought him directly to the infirmary when he came back. There was a trail of blood in the hall and everything.”
“What?” you cried, slamming your cup on the counter. “That can’t be.”
Your friend shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I heard.”
“Shit,” you hissed, before running out of the room.
You didn’t slow down the entire way to the infirmary, dodging people in the halls, and almost knocking a few of them over in the process. How could Five be hurt? And why was just the thought making you sick to your stomach?
You burst into the infirmary just in time to see several nurses scurrying away, and a very angry and bloodied Five sitting up in one of the hospital beds.
“God damnit, if you touch me one more time, I swear to god, I will strangle you with my IV line!”
“Oh my god, Five!” Without even thinking about it, you rushed up to him and threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly to you. “Holy shit, I thought you were dead!”
His body stiffened at first, but then he relaxed and put his arms around you in return. You heard him laugh and you pulled away.
“I bet you’d like that. Then you’d finally be able to molest me without me fighting back.”
You realized a few tears had slipped down your cheek and you hurriedly wiped them away. You gave him a half-smile. “You wish.” Then you looked him over, noticing the blood on his head and the IV in his arm. “Are you ok? What happened?”
He sighed. “Nothing, just a minor mishap. I’m fine.” He spoke louder and in the general direction of the nursing staff. “But these jack-holes won’t let me leave!”
You huffed out a laugh. “I can see you’re fine by your usual lovely attitude. You should hear the rumors going around about you, though. Pretty impressive.”
“Good. I need to keep up appearances.”
When you sat down on the side of the bed, you took one of his hands in yours and squeezed it. “I’m glad you’re ok, really. I got really scared there for a minute.”
Five smiled shyly at you and gave you a squeeze back. “I’m glad someone here was worried about me.”
You tilted your head to the side and brushed a stray piece of hair off his forehead and tried to wipe away a smudge of blood. “I doubt I’m the only one.”
“I think you are,” he said, looking you directly in the eyes.
You averted your eyes for a moment. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Maybe just one thing.”
“Sure, what do you need?”
He grinned. “Go on a date with me.”
You weren’t sure you heard him correctly. “Did they check you for a concussion because I thought you just asked me out on a date.”
“I did. And no, I am not concussed.”
“Five…” you started, blinking in confusion. “I don’t understand. Do you mean like a date date?”
He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Yes, like a date date. Why is this so hard to believe?”
“Uh, well…because we’re friends. Also, I’m not really your type.”
His eyebrows creased together. “You’re not? You’re funny, smart, and sexy. Not to mention you flirt with me every chance you get. What’s not to like?”
“I do not flirt with you.” You smiled when you saw his incredulous expression. “Ok, yeah, I do. But that was just having fun and trying to make you laugh. I didn’t think you’d be into me.”
“Why not?”
“Ok, how do I put this? I have heard all about your little conquests and I know you have a running theme. Skinny, tiny, Barbie dolls that probably have never eaten a sandwich before. And not that there’s anything wrong with that. Everyone has a type and that’s ok. Hell, normally I prefer blond guys, but…”
“Normally?” he cut in.
You blushed. “Well, I do make some exceptions for certain grouchy, dark-haired men.”
Five nodded with a smile. “So then go out with me. I promise the only type I have is the type that I happen to be attracted to. And don’t believe everything you hear around here. Remember,” he pointed to the small abrasion on his head, “I was almost dead a couple of minutes ago.”
Hesitating, you shook your head. “I don’t date anyone from work.”
“Good. Me either,” he said, still grinning.
You laughed. “Alright, then, you wore me down. It’s a date. But only if you promise to stay here for at least another hour without verbally or physically abusing these poor health care workers. It’s not their fault you’re an asshole.”
“Fine, I’ll stay, but only because I want to go out with you.” He raised his voice so the rest of the room could hear. “Not because I need to be treated like a child who fell off their tricycle!”
The next Saturday, you and Five went on your date. When he saw your outfit, he was speechless for a few seconds. He was used to seeing you in your work clothes, which was always the same boring gray pants suit, but now he got to see you in your preferred style. A form-fitting, teal blue dress that stopped halfway down your thighs and had a keyhole neckline to show off a bit of cleavage. You paired it with some gold jewelry and black, strappy heels. You laughed at his face when he saw you.
“You look…” he stammered. “That dress…just wow.”
“Thank you.” You looked him up and down, liking the way his tailored pants fit his lean body just right and his casual button-down shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves accentuated his sculpted chest. You had never really noticed how strong he looked. “You look really good, too. Much better than the stuffy suits.”
“Agreed,” he said distractedly as he continued to stare at your chest.
“Excuse me, but my eyes are up here,” you joked, pointing to your face.
He looked up briefly, then back down at your body. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to your eyes in a minute.”
“Wow, I had no idea you were such a pervert.”
He looked up at you with a devious smile. “Oh, yeah, huge pervert. I’m surprised you never picked up on that.” He laughed along with you and then offered his arm for you to loop yours through. “Shall we?”
At dinner, the conversation came easily. It was nice to be able to chat without having to cut it short due to work. Your stories were much duller than his, obviously, but he still seemed genuinely interested in anything you had to say. You made him laugh with your sarcastic comments and you loved knowing you were just about the only one that could crack that veneer of his. Over dessert, you finally worked up enough nerve to ask him what you really wanted to know.
“So, how come you’ve only dated thin girls before?”
Five looked surprised and he shook his head. “I haven’t only dated thin girls.”
You cocked your head to the side and raised your eyebrows. “Really?”
He coughed, embarrassed. “Ok, fine, that’s true. But it wasn’t a conscious decision. Like I said, I’m attracted to who I’m attracted to.” He paused. “But…”
“But what?”
“But what I am most attracted to is confidence. I like a woman that is sure of herself and assertive. A woman that knows what she wants.” He looked guilty for a second. “Usually, at least in my experience, those are the women that happen to fit into the societal standards of beauty. I hadn’t really thought about it until now, though. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s not a bad thing. I was just curious.” You hesitated, not sure you wanted to keep pressing him for information. “What was it that attracted you to me, then?”
He looked surprised again and then he laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never met anyone as confident and self-assured as you. Plus, you’re funny and easy to be around. And almost as smart as I am.”
“As modest as always.”
“I’m just kidding,” he said with a smile. “You’re incredibly smart, obviously. I wouldn’t waste my time with someone who wasn’t. And…” He reached across the table and placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. You felt a warm, tingling sensation ripple through your body. “You are also incredibly sexy with your shameless flirting.”
“Well, I’m glad you noticed,” you said, taking your finger and brushing it over his. “And just in case you didn’t know, you are also incredibly sexy.”
“I did not know that.”
“Oh yeah. I made a lot of enemies once word got out that I was going on a date with you. Lots of jealous women back at headquarters right now.”
“Is that so? Can I get a list of those women, just in case this date goes bad?”
Taking your foot, you dragged it up his calf, all while looking him in the eye with one eyebrow raised suggestively. “I don’t think it’s going to go bad, do you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t now.” You saw him swallow hard and shift in his seat. “How about we get the check?”
When you got back to your place, you were almost falling through the door as you struggled to get inside while aggressively making out. Neither of you had even made it out of the car before you started groping one another, so that by the time you had made it home, you were both on fire.
“You know,” you mumbled between frantic kisses as Five slammed the door closed behind him with his foot. “I don’t usually put out on the first date.”
“Me either,” he said as he grabbed you around the waist to pull you in closer, kissing you along your jaw.
“Ok, I lied. Yes, I do,” you exhaled breathily as your hands wound into his hair and he moved his mouth to your neck.
“Good, because I lied too,” he said, stopping to look at you with a sly grin.
After letting out a short laugh, you were back on his mouth again, breathing hard through your nose and pressing your body against his. You could feel his arousal building as he pushed his groin into your hip. Your hands fumbled as you started to unbutton his shirt.
“Fuck, you are so hot,” he breathed against your neck. “I want you out of this dress.”
As you finished undoing the last button and pulling his shirt out of his pants, you nodded. “Yeah, good idea.” When you reached down to pull at the strap of your shoe, he put a hand on yours to stop you. When you looked up, he shook his head.
“I said the dress. The shoes stay on.”
Well, if you hadn’t been wet before, you were now. The tone of his voice and the seriousness of his face only added to the hotness factor and at that point you would have followed almost any demand he made of you. Leaving the shoes on, you pulled the dress over your head while he watched. Even though you hadn’t really been anticipating your date progressing this far, you had still prepared with a pair of satin panties and lace bra that matched the same jewel tone as the dress you dropped onto the floor.
Five didn’t say anything, just eyed you up and massaged the back of his neck. Then he let out a long, shaky exhale.
“Are you ok?” you asked, suddenly a little concerned he might not be liking what he saw.
Five nodded, his gaze not leaving your breasts. “Yeah, just give me a second. I’m trying not to come in my pants.”
Your astonished laugh was quickly cut off when you found yourself pinned against the wall on the other side of the room, the fluttery sensation of one of Five’s spatial jumps lingering in your stomach. Your squeak of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, as he pushed hard against you, his hands on your tits.
When he flicked his tongue across your bottom lip, you moaned and closed your eyes, jerking your hips into him. Your hands found their way to his hard chest and muscular arms, feeling them tighten and relax with each movement. He let you tug his shirt the rest of the way off and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he pressed his face into the side of your neck and lifted one of your legs up to his waist. His hard cock was grinding into you as you drew in a ragged breath. When you felt his lips against your skin and his warm breath as he brushed his mouth over your neck, you let out a loud whine.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Let Daddy hear you,” he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh and holding you tightly to him.
“Woah…Daddy?” you breathed out.
Five nodded, moving to the other side of your neck. “Is that ok?”
“Fuck yes, Daddy,” you moaned, running your hands greedily down his back.
You felt him smile against you and his kisses turned into small nips that he trailed down your neck and onto your shoulder.
“I want you. I can’t wait,” he said, his voice husky with desire.
“The bedroom is in there,” you said, pointing to the room just on the other side of the wall.
Five let your leg down and you pulled him by the hand into your bedroom, falling onto the bed and propping yourself on your elbows as Five stood there staring again.
“Well, come on, Daddy,” you teased. “I thought you couldn’t wait.”
A slow smile spread across Five’s face as he immediately started to undress the rest of the way, until he was crawling over you, completely naked. He rubbed his cock against your inner thigh, making a quiet growling noise in his throat before looking you in the eye.
“As much as I love this little bra and panty combination you’ve got going on here, I’m going to need those to go, too.”
When you nodded eagerly, he reached behind you and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it off the bed before immediately moving farther south and ripping your underwear off. Once you were completely nude, Five sat back to take you all in. You assumed he liked what he saw, because it was only another second before he was covering you with his own body, attacking your full breasts with frantic sucking kisses.
“Damnit, honey, these tits…fuck,” he moaned as he buried his face in your cleavage.
“I take it that you’re pleased?” you giggled, threading your fingers through his hair.
He lifted his head, holding himself over you while he shoved your legs further apart with his knees. Then he lowered himself to kiss you tenderly, caressing your face with one hand. You let out a soft sigh.
“I’m more than pleased. You’re beautiful.”
He leaned in to kiss you again, this time using his free hand to travel down your chest and abdomen, and along your inner thighs. His long fingers met the soft, wet area between them, and he slowly ran them up through your pillowy folds, making you even wetter.
“Five…” you moaned as you rocked your hips up to match his strokes.
“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he asked, only slightly condescending as he continued to watch your face for your reactions.
Five entered you with two fingers, pressing in slowly and then backing out again before repeating it in a slow rhythm. You chased his hand with desperate thrusts of your hips, biting your bottom lip to try to contain some of the noises that threatened to escape your lips.
“Fuck me, please,” you whined, throwing your head back.
He gave a quiet chuckle and you felt his hand move away from you. Then he was positioning himself between your legs and lowering himself so that you could feel his dick rubbing against your slit.
“God, I swear I’ve never been this hard in my life. I’m going to fuck you like you want, gorgeous. Daddy’s going to take care of you.”
“Oh, shit,” you gasped when you felt him enter you, just slow enough not to be jarring, but not drawing it out, either.
When he was fully inside, you angled your hips so he was at just the right spot.
“How’s that?” he whispered as he slowly pumped into you.
“That’s good…” You grabbed at his shoulders and back. “Keep going.”
Five continued his slow and lazy thrusts while holding himself over you so he could look down at your face and body. His hair fell forward over his eye and he made quiet groaning noises that were punctuated with soft kisses.
“You feel so damn good,” he moaned.
“Five?”
“What do you need, darling?”
“I need you to really fuck me. Hard.”
He looked down at you, momentarily stopping his movements. Then he laughed quietly and you smiled back. “Well, I did say I’d fuck you like you wanted, didn’t I?”
When he pulled out, you let out a soft sigh and watched as he crawled back off the bed, his dick still hard and wet from being inside of you.
“Wha--?” you started to ask, right before he yanked your legs sideways, so that you were laying across the width of the bed.
Five positioned himself between your legs, holding them up under your knees and settling them on either side of his waist while he lined himself up and slammed into you again.
“Is this what you wanted?” he snarled, continuing to thrust into you hard and fast.
“Yes!” you cried, clutching at the sheets beneath you.
Every time he pounded into you, you got to feel the intensity of his strength as your entire body moved back and forth, your tits bouncing enticingly in front of him. He gave your voluptuous ass a hard slap that made you cry out again. You instinctively covered your mouth with your arm.
“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Five warned through clenched teeth. “Uncover your mouth. I want to hear you scream.”
Everything he was doing and saying was driving you quickly over the edge, and you did scream for him, just like he wanted. You couldn’t even help yourself.
“Yes…please…keep going…harder, please! I need more!”
You were begging and pleading while he railed into you as hard as he possibly could, thrusting his thick cock deep inside of you while slamming his pubic bone right into your clit every single time. All while completely supporting your lower body, angling it up and off the bed so he could fuck you relentlessly and perfectly.
Soon, you felt your muscles start to twitch and your head fell back, your mouth wide open as you repeatedly asked him to fuck you harder. When you finally hit that wall, you completely lost yourself, screaming his name while bucking and thrashing wildly against him.
Your orgasm was still coming in waves when Five released himself inside of you, his head tipped back and jaw set, growling obscenities while his muscles contracted and he dug his fingers harder into your thighs.
When the intensity had passed, Five let go of your legs, setting them gently down, and he leaned over the top of you, his hands on either side of your head. He kissed you tenderly, still trying to catch his breath.
“Fuck, that was good,” he said with a heavy exhale.
You nodded, laying a hand on his cheek. “So damn good.”
After another minute, you both moved so that you were lying longways on the bed again. Five held you against his chest while he kissed your forehead and traced his fingers down your arms and back.
“I’m not sure why we haven’t been doing that all along,” he joked.
“Because you needed to get to know me and my sparkling personality first.”
Five rolled his eyes. “Sparkling? I don’t know, that seems a bit much.”
When you giggled, he pulled you close to him. Your lips pulled to the side in thought and after a few seconds you decided to just put it out there.
“Are you sure you’re ok with my body? I mean, I am, but I just want to make sure you are, too. Because if this is going to continue, and I really hope it does, then I need to know you’re going to be ok with my size and not try to change me after a while. I’ve dated men in the past that said they were ok with it, but then a month or so later, they’re encouraging me to go to the gym or making comments about my diet. They all got kicked to the curb, because I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. I am who I am and I love my body. I just want to make sure you do, too.”
Five was quiet for a moment, then he held your chin in his hand. “Look at me,” he said quietly, while tilting you face up. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression that body type or looks matter to me, because it doesn’t. I just had the most mind-blowing sex I have ever had, and I wouldn’t change one single thing about you. You’re perfect.”
“Wow,” you said with a smile. “Five Hargreeves just called me perfect. Wait until I spread this rumor down at headquarters.”
“I’m serious,” he said. “You believe me, don’t you?”
You nodded. “I believe you. And thank you.” You gave him a soft kiss and smiled. “So, does this mean I can keep sexually harassing you at work?”
“I hereby give you permission to harass me as much as you want on a daily basis. I will welcome it.”
After that first date, you and Five couldn’t get enough of one another. It was like just being in the same building with him set your body on fire. You would find yourself staring off, lost in a daydream about what his mouth felt like and then someone would clear their throat or say your name, and you’d realize they had been talking to you without you noticing.
Obviously, everyone knew that something was going between you two. You hadn’t exactly spread the word, but you also hadn’t denied it. You didn’t really care what anyone thought, anyway. The only problem was, there was a strict policy of no relationships between case managers and field agents in place. This was done to protect the agents, and to avoid any favoritism with assignments. A few casual flings here and there were overlooked, but serious relationships were usually squashed. Not that you would describe what you had as serious. Yet, anyway.
You did love spending time with one another, even without the sex. You even made Five join you at lunch with your usual group, much to the shock of your friends. It was awkward at first, but when Five cracked a very dry and cutting joke about someone in upper management, the table went silent for a second before bursting into laughter. He looked at you in surprise, like he couldn’t believe he was having this type of positive social interaction. You just smiled and shrugged, mouthing “I told you so”.
Despite the fact that you spent a lot of time together outside of work, that didn’t stop either of you from taking advantage of your proximity at the Commission. You had lost count of the number of times you two had stolen away somewhere in the building for a quickie during the day. With Five’s status plus his convenient teleportation powers, you could hide anywhere you could think of that would give you at least a few minutes of privacy.
You would be sitting there, attempting to work on a case, when Five would come strolling in. Just the sight of him striding into the room, all confident and sexy with that tiny smirk on his face, made you want to jump on top of him. He would approach you with some made up problem he had and ask you to go with him so you could help straighten it out. It was pretty apparent what was going on, and your coworkers would exchange glances around you, but you didn’t care.
Once you were safely down the hallway, Five would grab you and blink you into some abandoned storage room where you were immediately attacked. You had told him to stop being so aggressive while at work, because the hickeys he was leaving on your neck were clearly visible. But that didn’t stop him from shoving you against a table or a wall, all while kissing you fervently and telling you how much he wanted you in that deep, growling voice of his.
Dropping to his knees to eat you out while kneading the flesh of your ass. Spinning you around to bend you over a table before fingering you and then fucking you from behind. Biting and sucking at your tits and stomach, leaving marks that would be hidden by your clothes, but were still a reminder of who you belonged to. All of it was expertly done, as only Five could do, and you couldn’t get enough.
The servicing wasn’t a one-way street, though. You liked to flip the tables sometimes and push him against the wall, sliding slowly down his body until you were kneeling in front of him, hands already clawing at his belt and zipper while you called him Daddy. When you would take all of him into your mouth, he would hiss through his teeth and groan loudly, his hand resting in your hair while he praised you for being good for him. He wanted you to look at him while you sucked him off, and tell you to finger yourself while you did it. You’d be choking on his dick, a hand shoved into your panties, and both of you moaning until you came; all while the throngs of Commission employees were passing by right outside the door.
It was quickly becoming apparent that your relationship was evolving into something more. You were starting to spend more nights together, sleeping in one another’s beds, curled up together and waking up happy in the morning, just to be near each other. Five loved cuddling up with you, pulling your soft body close against his, and nuzzling into your neck or hair. He told you how happy you made him and thanked you for pulling him out of his shell. He’d idly stroke your arms and thighs while you would lie together in the dark, just talking quietly. In the morning, he’d trace patterns over the white, jagged lines that criss crossed your abdomen and hips, reminding you how beautiful you were as the sunlight spilled across your bed.
Your feelings for Five were starting to seep into your everyday routines and the work you normally prided yourself on. You found yourself worrying about every assignment he went on, even though you knew he was a professional and could handle it.
After a while, the cases you started assigning him got easier and easier, whereas before you would have given him the most difficult and dangerous ones. He finally called you out on it when he received a total rookie assignment while another agent that was not nearly as skilled received a much more complicated one.
He sat on the corner of your desk, a smug grin on his face, as he dropped the file in front of you.
“What the hell is this?” he asked you, still smiling.
You glanced down at the file, then back at him. “What do you mean?”
He tapped the file with his finger. “This garbage. It’s a case for a newbie. Hell, you could probably hand this to any random person off the street and they could do it. So what’s going on?”
You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest and frowning. “Maybe I thought you just needed a break, that’s all.”
He studied your face and shook his head. “No, that’s not it. Every case I get from you these days is getting simpler and simpler. I just haven’t said anything until now. Are you losing faith in my abilities, is that it?”
Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Of course not! It’s just, you know…” Your voice trailed off and your eyes flitted away from his.
“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”
With a heavy sigh, you dropped your hands onto the desk in front of you, looking up at him. “Fine. I’m scared to give you anything complicated because I’m afraid something will happen to you. And I don’t really want my boyfriend being gunned down or stabbed or beaten all to shit, ok? Especially not in another timeline where you might not even be able to come back.”
Five took a second to absorb that information, then he looked down with a smile. “You really worry about me?”
“Yes, I worry about you. Is that so bad? You might not be as amazing as you think you are. You’re not infallible, you know.”
Five made a face like he hadn’t actually considered that before, which was mildly infuriating, and then he looked at you with that gentle smile of his that you knew he saved only for you. He leaned in and gave you a quick but tender kiss full on the mouth, even though you were still in a roomful of people that could see. When he pulled away, you felt your face flush, but not from embarrassment.
“Thank you,” he whispered earnestly.
Then he flashed you that arrogant smirk again, the dimple on his cheek deepening, before snatching a much thicker file off your desk, and blinking away without another word.
It was only a matter of time, you supposed, before Corporate caught wind of your relationship. Especially when you were making erratic decisions with your cases lately. Both you and Five received a notice from senior management requesting a meeting. You were a mess of anxiety and nerves when the time came. Your career was important to you, and it was not in your nature to just throw that away for some man. But Five wasn’t just any man, was he? If you were going to have to choose between your job and your relationship with him, you had no idea what you were going to do.
Sitting in front of the executive’s desk, your leg bounced up and down with nerves as you waited for Five to join you. When he arrived, he had the absolute audacity to look calm and unbothered as he sat down in the chair next to you. He greeted the manager and then turned to give you a wink and a small smile. You really had no idea how he could be this nonchalant. Maybe he didn’t care if you had to end things.
“As I’m sure you know, the reason you two have been called here today is –”
Five cut your manager off mid sentence. “Yes, we are fully aware. According to section 64, subsection D of the Commission Code of Conduct, we are prohibited from being in a romantic relationship with one another.”
The executive paused. “Well, yes, that’s correct. And so –”
“And so you have to inform us that we either have to end our relationship or resign from our positions.”
There was another moment of perplexed silence from across the desk. “Uh, yes…”
“But that is only because of the current departments we work for, due to conflicting interests, correct?” Five continued.
“That is correct, yes. But—”
“So, if we move to the same department, that shouldn’t be an issue?”
“Well…yes…I suppose…”
You looked at Five, completely confused. “Five, what are you doing? You don’t want to work in case management. I know you don’t.”
He nodded. “You’re right. But you can train to become a field agent.”
Your mouth hung open. “What?”
“You’ve only mentioned that you were interested in being out in the field about 50 times, so why not? They can always use more agents,” he turned to the manager, “Isn’t that right?”
The man cleared his throat. “Oh. Well, yes, that’s true.”
Five nodded again, as if that explained everything. “Alright then, so move her to my department. She has the determination and skill. And you have my official recommendation, which as you know, holds a lot of weight around here.”
There was another look of bewilderment in your direction. “Yes, Mr. Hargreeves, that’s true. I suppose we could do that—”
Five stood up with a smile. “Great! It’s all settled then.” He turned to you, still sitting in your chair and trying to make sense of all of this.
What he had said was true. You had told Five many times that you wished you could have his job. But you figured that was outside of your skill set. Five didn’t seem to agree. He knew you were highly intelligent, strong, and had the right personality. You just needed the proper training.
He reached out a hand to pull you up. “Is this all ok with you, darling? Do you have anything to add?”
You shook your head slowly. “Uh, no…I mean, yes…I mean, yes I’m ok with it and I don’t have anything else to add.”
“Great!” Five turned to the manager. “Just send me the paperwork we need to fill out and we can call it good.”
The manager shook each of your hands and it appeared that the meeting was over before it began. Five guided you towards the door with a hand on your back. You looked over your shoulder, still unsure of what exactly just happened, but you let him push you outside into the hall.
“What the fuck, Five?” you demanded, hands on your hips. “You want to tell me what is happening right now?”
“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? They weren’t going to let us keep dating if we were working in our current departments, so one of us had to move. And I know this is what you really wanted.”
You thought for a moment. “So…you didn’t think of breaking up with me just to keep things the same?”
His mouth dropped open and then he snapped it shut again, his brows furrowing and creating deep creases between his eyes. “No. Of course not.” He took a few steps closer to you and took your face gently into his hands, gazing into your eyes. “I love you.”
You drew in a sharp breath. “What?”
“I love you,” he repeated, this time with a smile.
You answered him, your own grin spreading slowly across your face. “Say that again.”
Five laughed, leaning down to kiss you and you hugged him around his waist. “I love you,” he said again after breaking away.
“I love you too, Five. I don’t know if I realized it until just now, but I do. I love you so much.”
Five nodded. “Well, that’s a relief. Because I would have looked like a giant asshole if I did all that and you shot me down.”
Laughing, you reached up for another kiss that quickly turned very heated. When you pulled away, Five was breathing hard and he tugged your body harder against his.
“There’s an empty room down the hallway over there,” he said suggestively.
You shook your head. “Sorry, honey, but we have to get to work. I have a lot of training to start on.”
“I think you forget who your new boss is,” he said in that serious tone of his.
Five pulled you in tightly again, kissing you hard on the mouth and flattened you against the wall. His hand roamed down to your chest and he gave your breast a small squeeze while pressing his knee in between your legs. When he heard you moan softly into his mouth, he backed away with a grin.
“You know, I can report you to HR for sexual harassment,” you said with a crooked smile, even though you were having a hard time controlling your heart rate.
“It’s not harassment if you like it,” he shot back before giving you a loud smack on the ass.
Then he turned around and walked away, leaving you flustered and hot; but also with that amazing feeling in the pit of your stomach from knowing you had found the perfect person to love and that loved you just as much in return.
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reidswhre · 4 days
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spencer reid x fem!reader
warnings: it’s silly and fluff
a/n: this is the intro of episode 7 from season 3, i founded it so funny so i made this blurb.
“A popular theory among leading astrophysicists estimates that the hypermatter reactor would need about 10 to the 32nd joules of energy to destroy a planet the size of the Earth.” You didn’t exactly know what Reid was trying to explain to Morgan, but he looked cute.
Emily looked at you mockingly.
“Now, Lucas said it took 19 years to build the first Death Star, right?” Spencer looked at you.
“But if you look at The New Essential Chronology, there's a test bed prototype for a super laser that's been—” Morgan got up from his seat and headed toward Rossi’s new office.
“Where are you going?” Spencer asked Morgan, confused.
“Taking back the last five minutes of my life,” Morgan replied, and Reid made a face.
“I was listening to you.” You shrugged.
“I know you were, you always do.” He smiled at you.
“Don’t you want to know about this guy?” Morgan asked as he walked up the stairs.
“I do.” Emily quickly got up from her desk.
“I don’t! Are you kidding? No, no—This is dangerous.” You followed them.
You were starting to panic a little. Not for nothing, but this guy was pretty mysterious, and even though you might sound a bit like a people pleaser, you were dying to make a good impression on Rossi, and if he caught you snooping around his office, you two weren’t going to become friends anytime soon.
“I've got it all memorized. His books, his bio,” Spencer replied to Morgan.
“Yeah, books that sold over a million copies.”
“So?”
“That’s a million reasons not to come back, if you know what I’m saying.” Morgan explained to us.
I mean, of course, he was right. Why would a guy who had already ended his career years ago suddenly come back? He wasn’t going to do it out of kindness. But that wasn’t your problem.
“Huh!” Morgan exclaimed as he entered his office.
“Taupe walls. That’s a negative color.” Emily was analyzing it. “Cold. Distant. You know, emotionally, taupe is linked to loneliness and a desire to escape from the world.”
“I just figured the guy’s walls would be covered with plaques and commendations,” Morgan continued to Emily.
“Maybe he doesn't want to be reminded of past victories. It’s a new chapter for him.”
Spencer and you peeked into the office, you clinging to his arm.
“Whatever happened to the moratorium on intra-team profiling, guys?” Spencer asked the group.
“Come on, Reid. Team? I don’t think this guy knows the meaning of the word.”
“Probably not, but—We shouldn’t be here. What if he sees us?” You were quite scared.
“I don’t think he will, don’t worry.” Spencer took your hand, and you both entered the office.
“I found something. Looks like some type of religious art. Original maybe, definitely expensive.” Morgan showed us a painting in a frame.
You wrapped your arm around Spencer’s and leaned on his.
“It’s Renaissance art,” you replied to Morgan, looking at the painting in Spencer’s hand.
“If that’s original…” Spencer followed your lead.
“Is it?” Morgan asked.
“It’s kind of hard to tell, I mean, he’s into the classics,” you continued.
“What else?”
“Italian, strict Catholic upbringing, probably believes in redemption.” Spencer was pondering over the painting.
“I believe in a lot of things.” You heard a voice behind you, and it almost gave you a heart attack.
You lifted your head off Spencer’s arm, stepping away from him entirely. He gave you a puzzled look due to the distance.
“Catholic, yes. Italian American, 52 years old. Strict upbringing? Not so much.”
We shared awkward glances between us. This couldn’t be happening.
“Now the artwork? That’s 15th-century original, it costs more than my first house. And as for the wall color, it’s just a base coat, painters will come in and finish tomorrow.” He gave us an ironic smile.
You felt like you were about to die or something.
“Now, if you’re all finished, I think JJ and Hotch are ready for us,” he informed us. “Isn’t that how a team works?” This time he looked straight at Morgan.
You quickly ran out of there before the embarrassment swallowed you whole. Spencer followed right behind you.
“Hey! Wait for me.” You heard him behind you.
“Are you kidding me? I told you we shouldn’t have gone in! What a disgrace, I can’t believe it.” You turned to look at him. “What’s he going to think of me?”
“I don’t think he cares that much, really.” He took your hands in an attempt to calm you down.
“How could he not!? We snooped through his stuff! We profiled him! Oh, this is bad!”
Spencer laughed a little at you. “What are you laughing at!?” You frowned.
“I really don’t think it’s that deep, don’t worry.” He gave you a sincere look.
If you thought about it, it wasn’t that bad. He probably wouldn’t even mention it again, and it wasn’t like you did anything serious... at least you hoped so.
“You think so?” You looked back at him.
“Of course!” He smiled at you. “Come on, I’ll make you some coffee before we go to JJ and Hotch.” Spencer gave you a small kiss on the forehead, took your hand, and led you to the kitchen.
a/n: so this is how i was picturing Spencer and reader when they we’re watching the artwork.
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so cute i’m dying!!
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nathaslosthershit · 21 days
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Coworkers?… Something like that (MV33)
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Summary: Working in media for a Formula 1 team, you had expected to be behind the scenes, unseen and unnoticed by fans. But catching the eye of one of the drivers and the very public flirting as a result has thrust you into the spotlight Part of my summer event! Warnings: A little suggestive hehe.
It was the perfect job for you. Part of the team you love, far from the spotlight. You were good at it too. Constantly complimented by your boss in meetings on how much engagement some of the content you came up with got. Even the two drivers, who were certainly not known for enjoying media making them do stupid games for the fans, had stopped complaining as much. One driver in particular seemed to really enjoy when you would work with him…
You’d never been a big fan of Max Verstappen. It wasn’t that you disliked him, he was extremely talented of course, and not too bad to look at, but as you had always rooted for the underdog, you couldn’t justify ever celebrating his many many wins. But as you got to know him, as he gave you the warmest of welcomes to the team, you changed your mind. 
You two had been keeping your budding relationship to yourselves. Despite how much you liked each other, until you both had figured out where the relationship was going, it didn’t seem wise to tell anyone, especially while you were just finishing your first year with Red Bull. Despite how much you helped improve the team’s social media presence, if something happened, if it came down to their world champion a few times over, or some girl in media who had only been there for a year…
Luckily, it did get more serious, very serious. After a long conversation, you both had come to the decision that you won’t say anything explicitly, as Red Bull didn’t have rules on dating coworkers that would warrant an official notice to HR, but you wouldn’t hide as much. 
Too bad this decision was made not long before the Drive to Survive team came to film extra content for the show.
It was only supposed to be filler clips. Extra video footage to use with a voiceover to give more time to explain things. ‘Just pretend we aren’t here’ they had told everyone in the office, and oh boy did you pretend. 
It was Max’s fault, 100%. The undisclosed but very apparent relationship between you two was known to everyone at Red Bull at this point, but not the new video crew coming in. And Drive to Survive lives for the dramatics. 
While it wasn’t explicit, a few clips of hand holding (initiated by Max), a kiss on the cheek (given to you by Max), and multiple clips of Max looking at you with nothing but heart eyes, it was hard for anyone watching to ignore. 
Once the new season came out, fans very quickly caught onto all of the content of the two of you that DTS was trying to be sneaky about putting in. That then led to ‘internet sleuths’ finding all of the behind the scenes content they could get of both of you, and then finding your account you had left public thinking no one would care about the random Red Bull media girl. How stupid you were.
“Max, what the fuck are we supposed to do? Do I delete my account and hope people forget?” You asked, stressed by the sudden spotlight.
“That would just make it worse and make them less likely to forget. We will just have to… be honest, give people enough content to keep them satisfied but not spoiled into needing more.”
He was right. It was almost laughable how he was the voice of reason in this situation when media presence was your job. That is how everything started.
There were no ‘official wag paddock walks’, you were too busy working to be Max’s arm candy before a race. But there were a few photos here and there, your team even posted a few BTS moments of the two of you.
“All you have to do is describe the food you are eating to Checo so he can guess.” You explained to Max for the fourth time, but he was still not listening as he was far too busy appreciating the view of the beautiful woman he got the privilege of calling his girlfriend. “Do you understand?”
As Sergio nudged Max, he responded with a quick, “Yes got it”
“Do not say the name of what you are eating.”
“Yes, yes we know.” He absentmindedly said as the two drivers put on their blindfolds. 
Everyone let out a breath of relief as Max went to lift the spoon to his mouth, the entire crew antsy to finish what was supposed to be a quick video before Max ruined it with his heart eyes and lack of comprehension to anything that came out of your mouth. 
“What the fuck! It’s ketchup!” Max exclaimed as everyone groaned.
“Max, you weren’t supposed to say that!”
“I thought I was guessing what it was! That's why I had the blindfold, no?”
They were in for a long day of shooting.
Max had started a stream, hoping to make it quick so he could join you in bed. Unfortunately, when viewers saw that you were walking through the background, they wouldn’t give up until you joined, so neither of you had much of a choice.
Despite how obvious it was that the two of you were together, neither of you had confirmed the status of your relationship. This led to having to ignore about three quarters of the comments you both were getting on the stream.
“Would you like a Red Bull?” Max asked, 45 minutes into what seemed to be a never ending stream.
“No it’s too late, I’ll go get a water-”
“Nope you stay there i'll get it.” Max said, antsy for an excuse to take a moment to himself. The amount of comments about the two of you were starting to piss him off.
He returned to the room to see you answering questions and, while still off camera, he set down the glass and waved to get your attention.
‘End it’ he mouthed, making prayer motions with his hands.
You simply shook your head, you had been having more fun talking to people than he had.
‘Please, I want to go to bed with you’ he mouthed back, wiggling his eyebrows in hopes of conveying he wanted to do much more than simply go to bed. You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your mouth at that.
Seeing all the viewers confused, you simply responded, “Sorry, my coworker was harassing me” which had you giggling again as you saw Max get visibly annoyed at his new title.
“Okay guys, bye.” Was all Max said as he quickly returned to the view of the camera and turned off the stream. He then turned to face you, saying nothing as he dragged you to the bedroom, holding you close as he pushed you down onto the bed with him, causing more giggles to leave your mouth/
Giggles which he quickly stopped with a kiss. And then another. And then another.
The makeout session was in full swing when Max finally remembered why he was annoyed.
Quickly pulling away from you, much to your chagrin, he asked, “Coworkers? Is that all we are now?” He teased.
Giving him a less passionate but more loving kiss this time, you responded with, “Something like that” as you both started to remove your clothes.
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msfantasy-anime · 1 month
Text
Sorry, I’m … married!
Monkey. D Luffy x Reader
Summary: An overly zealous marine by the name of Shimoi Zappa is enraptured by your beauty and just will not take no for an answer. Your final rejection comes in the form of a blow to his face which earns you a bounty and DoA wanted poster.
A/n: not my best, but I’m setting up the story to pushing Y/n into the straw hat crew for future adventures.
Part I • Part II • Part III •
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It’s been long since you parted ways with your ‘husband’ and the straw hat pirates on the docks that day.
Despite his incessant pleas, to join the crew. You were adamant on having a your own adventure. You weren’t quite ready to give up your freedom to serve in a wanted pirate crew, the world government chasing you until you are caught.
Piracy was always a dream of Sabo, Luffy and Aces, but yours was just to explore the world.
Despite all your reasonings, the tearful parting left you feeling unsure if you made the right decision. The New World is far more dangerous than the redline ever could be, maybe joining a strong and rambunctious pirate crew would’ve actually led to even greater adventures.
You continued to contemplate, your eyes glazed off into the distance sunset horizons as the merchants ship that granted you passage is offloading supplies onto a marine base island.
The captain of the merchants ship encouraged you to explore the island, but the marines on an isolated training island is begging for trouble. All of the officers are hyped up on self-importance, they’re all itching to prove their self worth by dominate any and all around them regardless if it was warranted enough. You’ve traveled enough to know that there are just as many corrupt marines as there are good marines. But you have truely had your fill for a life time and avoid them where possible.
It’s better to just stay nice and close to the ship and leave as soon as humanly possible.
Unfortunately, your train of thought comes to a crashing holt when you feel the intense sensation of being watched.
Springing from your seat, you turn around quickly, to see the creeping figure of a marine, slinking up behind you.
“Oh dear, oh my, what a sight you are.” The tall creepy marine exclaims, his cheeks blushing. “I knew you’d look pretty considering how gorgeous you look with just your back turned! My name is Shimoi Zappa. May I have your name miss?” The marine swoons. His flirtations make your stomach sink.
“Errrrrrm… it’s Y/n.”
“Y/n?! What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He swoons yet again, making you wildly uncomfortable.
“Gee, thanks.” You dead pan, looking towards the merchants ship, begging silently for help escaping this weird encounter.
“Please Miss, my heart has never yearned for another like it has for you. Please do me the honour of becoming my wife!” With one knee to the ground, he snatches your hand and places a weirdly wet kiss along your knuckles.
“UGH! No, thanks anyway.” You try to add politely on the end, whipping the back of your hand.
Falling completely onto his hands and knees, he begins to sob hysterically into the ground. “No?! Why?!” He sobs once again, grabbing your hips pushing his teary eyes into your abdomen, making your squirm in discomfort.
“Sorry, you see I’m…” Your mind reels in search of the perfect answer that won’t offend the creep whilst also strongly reaffirming your unavailability. “Im married!”
“This cannot be, this can’t be! Where is this husband of yours.” He asks, looking around, as if a man would pop into immediate view. Your jaw clenches in irritation, why couldn’t he just believe your words?
“Well, he’s off exploring the world-“
“Without you?! What kind of husband abandons his wife like this?! He mustn’t be a good husband if he leaves you alone out in this world full of creeps.”
“Right…”
“Please reconsider leaving that useless husband of yours and marry me instead.” He begs once again, grabbing your hand once again and giving it a pleading squeeze.
“Listen buddie, shut up about my husband. He’s a great man. Someone as vile as you will never understand.” Your usual amicable nature goes flying out the window. The overbearing flirting was one thing, but no one will ever disrespect Luffy to your face and live to tell the tale.
All commonsense goes flying out the window as you hand a devastating heavy hit to his face, knocking him out instantly.
“Hey Luffy! Come and look! There’s a new pirate bounty out.” Brook exclaims excitedly.
Luffy launches himself with bountiful energy, keen to see his new bounty. Only to be faced with the non other than your bounty.
Monkey. Y/n 100,000,000 berries. Dead or Alive.
“Hahaha! She said she didn’t want to join because having a bounty would make it hard to travel- but the dumby went and got a bounty anyway! Hahaha!” Luffy cackles. “Huh? Hey, did you guys notice that Y/n has my last name? That’s weird- I wonder why they did that.” Luffy questions scratching his head.
“100,000,000 million berries! What did Y/n do?!” Nami asks Brook in horror.
“The article says that Y/n was visiting the marine training island on a merchants ship when she punched a marine after talking poorly of her husband Monkey. D Luffy.” Luffy’s cackle continues until it comes to an abrupt halt.
“What island was she on again? Let’s go pick her up on the way to Big Moms.” He announce with a wide toothy smile.
“Great, maybe we can also steal some food while we are at it.” Nami agrees, returning back to the helm.
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strwberri-milk · 2 months
Note
Could you please do it for Sylus too? Please https://www.tumblr.com/strwberri-milk/753546840195186688/hi-good-morning-afternoon-evening-ive?source=share
ive got a very loose idea of who he is right now so it might not be the most accurate - might be a little too cold, abrasive? but hopefully i adjust as we slowly learn more about him uwu
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He keeps track of everything relevant to you. He doesn't necessarily check obsessively, but if something's happening in Linkon he expects to be alerted fairly quickly. Ever since the two of you became official you began to tolerate Mephisto's presence a lot better than before. Sylus won't tell you but he's glad you do, able to let his mind rest in ease that there's a quick way to get at you.
When Mephisto returns to his home worse for wear Sylus immediately knows something's wrong. He retrieves the recording device from the bird, quickly scouring the footage for the last time the crow saw you. He's met with your face, blood that he hopes isn't yours as you try to tell Mephisto to go. At this point the little robotic bird is too compromised for the recording software to do an effective job but that's all he needs to see.
He heads into the city, seeing all of the recovery efforts. He was under the impression that the crisis was ongoing, neglecting to actually check the date that the recording software recorded of the video he was watching. He pulls out his phone as he makes his way around the city, trying to get in touch with you.
When hours start to go by with not even a peep from you he feels equal parts fury and desperation mix inside of him. On the outside he just looks incredibly pissed, nobody able to figure out why this man looks so angry but it's just the way he looks when he's worried about you.
He doesn't want to contact anybody else in your life, respecting your wish to keep him as separate from your coworkers as much as possible. That doesn't stop him from hacking into phones and computers, trying to figure out if any of them have eyes or ears on you. He finally manages to find a promising text thread sent by one of the officers you work with, finally making it to your hospital.
Surprisingly, he's patient with the staff at the front, waiting for them to go through procedure before finally coming into your hospital room. You look perfectly fine, him breathing a sigh of relief that you don't see.
"You're alright," he says at the sight of you, standing next to your bed.
"Sylus? I didn't call you, did I? I mean - my phone's been out for days at this point."
His brows furrow at the mention. Days? He didn't realise he'd drop the ball that badly.
"You should have known I would have found you no matter what. Even without tracking your phone."
"Oh - Mephisto! How is he?" you ask quickly, sitting up in the bed.
Sylus immediately reaches out to grab your hand, scowling at you in a way that's not exactly unkind but you still don't like it. You shy away from his touch just the slightest bit, feeling bad for worrying him so much. He sees the way you flinch, taking your hand in his a little more forcibly as his other hand comes to support your back.
"He'll be fine. Just some repairs - nothing worse than what he might sustain at the N109 zone. Focus on yourself."
"I don't need to. The doctors said I'm fine, really. I got there after the worst of it."
He looks at you skeptically, shaking his head.
"I don't care what they said. Rest until you're well enough for me to check you out. Then I'm taking you home. With me. You're going to get yourself into more danger if I'm not watching you."
You sigh to yourself, knowing there was no way of you arguing your way out of this. Despite his cold demeanour you know he's just looking for a reason to spoil you and you might just have to milk it a bit.
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halsteadlover · 10 months
Text
𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬?
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*Gifs not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: you and Hotch have occasional rendezvous but each time you promise it’ll be the last even if neither of you seems to be able to stop.
• Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don’t be like them you guys wrap it if you want to use it!!!), cursing, dirty talk, oral sex m. receiving, basically porn with no plot lol
• Word count: 1824.
• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+ MINORS STAY AWAY. I hope you like this, let me know what you think. Comment, reblog and like if you want and as always thank you so much for your support.
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“Oh fuck Hotch you feel so good…-” you moaned loudly as you kept riding him on his chair. Your shaking thighs burned, your aching knees pressing against on his chair as his dick thrusted deeper and deeper inside you.
His hands were gripping your hips as he accompanied your movements, grunting and trying to remain silent while his fingers pressed against your skin so hard they left marks on it.
He let go of your hip and covered your mouth when another groan escaped your lips, making your moans become just muffled sighs. “Shut up, you don't want them to hear us do you?”.
You shook your head, biting into his palm as you placed your hands on the arms of his chair for support while letting yourself get rocked by the immense pleasure he was giving you.
It was a mistake.
You knew it was.
But God what a beautiful mistake.
You couldn't help it.
Since the day you and Hotch ended up in bed one night after a case and a few drinks, you didn’t stop having these rendezvous, neither of you could help it. Every time you promised yourselves it’d be the last, but it was enough to find yourselves close, or your eyes to meet during the discussion of a case, or for some reason his hand to casually caress yours to break this promise.
You were just like a drug for each other. From that first dose you had that night, you could no longer go without that feeling of euphoria and pure ecstasy the sex gave you.
Aaron Hotchner was the most sinful thought that crossed your mind, the forbidden thing you always craved and God did you love it.
Maybe it was the fact you were a BAU agent and he was your boss, maybe it was the thrill of being discovered, maybe it was the taste of the forbidden – hell, what would the FBI have said if they knew the upright boss of the behavioral analysis unit was breaking the rules that he himself continually reiterated to his agents?
This, however, didn't stop either of you, indeed it was as if all this was fuel thrown on the fire, passion and desire you already felt.
At first you both managed to keep that passion at bay, having occasional sex in hotel rooms when you were out of town for a case. But the more time passed, the more difficult it became to suppress everything, to hide that you wanted to rip each other’s clothes off every minute of the day.
And that's why you found yourself in his office that evening, fucking near his desk while there were still some colleagues still in the bullpen.
“God I've been thinking about you and this damn skirt all day… Fuck… You’re irresistible,” he muttered, his eyes scanning your figure sitting on him as his dick fucked your wet pussy.
He was completely mesmerized.
Your skirt was rolled up around your hips, the sheer black stockings you were wearing until recently had been ripped by Hotch in the heat of passion, your panties were thrown to the floor, your shirt unbuttoned and your bra moved as your breasts popped out and bounced to the rhythm of your motion.
You looked like a fucking goddess.
The walls of your pussy started to clench around his dick, making him twitch inside you, your hips stuttering as you felt your orgasm building more and more. It was as if your body was going through convulsions and you couldn't control it, you just wanted and desired that intense pleasure that only Aaron Hotchner was able to give you.
He wrapped his lips around your breast, sucking and licking your nipple as you threaded your hands into his hair and pulled it. You bit your lower lip in an attempt to keep at bay the moans and gasps you was struggling to keep quiet.
“Just like that, oh yeah just like that you feel so good Hotch,” you whispered in a gasp, rolling your eyes and head back. His tongue licked your skin, from your breasts, then moving up your collarbone to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin until he left a mark.
Hotchner wasn't one for hickeys, he wasn't one for office sex in the workplace, he wasn't one for quickies, he wasn't one to break the rules that he himself had set but you managed to break down every single part of his barrier, you managed making him lose control in a way that he loved and hated at the same time, you managed to unleash emotions in him that he had never even felt in his life.
You were hurricane.
You were storm.
You were addiction.
And he couldn't get enough of you, never.
“Shit, fuck,” he cursed, biting and licking the skin of your shoulder as his thumb began drawing imaginary circles on your clit making your muscles tense even more and your movements more erratic. You almost had a heart attack from the intense pleasure that flowed through your veins. “God princess you ruin me.”
A breathtaking orgasm hit over you without any other warning like a raging river, making you dizzy and see stars. Your vision went blurry for a few moments, making you even forget you were in your boss' office and someone could actually hear you.
You tried to catch your breath but at that very moment there was a knock on the door, making both you and Hotch freeze in place, his hard dick still inside you. You exchanged a panicked look.
“Just one second.” Aaron had responded after clearing his throat and then continuing talking to you in a whisper, “Get under the desk.”
You nodded and lifted yourself off his legs, which had turned to jelly as you bent down and picked up your panties. You settled under the desk between his legs while he quickly tried to fix his hair and button up his shirt. He stood up and put on his pants, leaving them loose without bringing them up to his hips.
“Come in.”
Your heart was beating so wildly you could hear the pounding in your ears. You stayed paralyzed under the desk, too afraid to even breathe.
The door opened and you recognized Agent Anderson's voice. “I brought the Porters' case report from five days ago Agent Hotchner.”
He nodded, his expression completely serious and professional as he pretended to fill out a file he didn't even remember at the moment.
“Thank you Agent Anderson, leave it on my desk.”
Despite the fear of being discovered, however, you couldn't contain your excitement and the thought of driving him crazy couldn't leave your mind. You placed a hand on his inner thigh, trailing your fingers along his crotch with sensuality.
Aaron almost had a heart attack when you quietly pulled his underwear off enough for his dick to pop out again, still wet and damp from your fluids and you wrapped your hand around it, starting to jerk him off with slow, controlled pace.
“Agent Hotchner there was a thing about this case I wanted to ask you about…” Agent Anderson had asked.
Are you fucking kidding me right now?
Hotch nodded and pointed to the chair in front of his desk, his lips pressed together because he was afraid if he opened them only moans would come out.
Your hand increased its speed and Hotch let out a deep sigh as he leaned back in his chair, about to have a heart attack right then and now.
He looked at Anderson, he heard him talking but his brain couldn't process a single word he was saying, too focused on trying to keep a serious expression and not let on that there was a woman under his desk who was masturbating him.
But the final blow came when you wrapped your lips around his dick, taking it all in your mouth and tasting yourself on it. He let out a small moan which immediately covered with a cough, thanking god Anderson was too caught up in whatever he was saying to notice.
His hand reached below the desk and into your hair, pulling it harshly and making you almost moan at the sensation. This caused you to pick up your pace and Hotch didn't know whether to hate you or not at that moment.
He wanted you to stop.
But also for you to keep going because that fucking mouth of yours was pure ecstasy.
“Are you okay, agent Hotchner?” Anderson stopped at a certain point, noticing the way Hotchner continued to move in his chair and the blush on his cheeks.
“Y-yes, I apologize...” Hotch breathed out. “Lord,” he almost let out a groan which he tried to mask with another cough. “I’m not feeling very well these days. C-can…” he stopped again, swallowing another moan. “We’ll talk about t-this tomorrow Anderson. Excuse me.”
You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself, feeling victorious for making the always-so-serious SSA Aaron Hotchner a complete mess.
His thighs started to shake, his fingers still pulling your hair as you licked his dick, leaving a long string of saliva on his tip. You wrapped your lips around him again and a hand around the base, jerking him off while simultaneously taking it in your mouth. Your other hand rested on his thigh, pressing your nails on his hot skin.
Your mouth felt like heaven and it didn't take long for the orgasm to start building again after it was interrupted.
“Oh yes of course, I'm sorry. Get well soon then, g-good night agent Hotchner.” Anderson replied and jumped to his feet before mumbling some more nonsense and exiting the office, closing the door behind him.
Hotch let out a particularly deep sigh and rested his head on the edge of his chair as he continued to mercilessly fuck your mouth.
“You fucking little slut, you really can't help yourself huh?” He groaned, looking back at you. His grip around your hair tightened, forcing your head down and making you gag. “My needy little whore, look at you chocking on my dick… Fuck you’re gonna make me come.”
How could he make such derogatory names so damn sexy?
It didn't take long for Hotch to explode into an intense orgasm inside your mouth, not letting your head go until he watched you swallow every single damn drop of his cum.
He exhaustedly leaned back in his chair, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he waited for his breathing to calm down.
He took your hands and helped you out from under the desk, letting you sit on his lap and kissing you until taking your breath.
He gave you a sweet little kiss on your forehead, caressing your cheek with a thumb, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “You'll be the death of me sooner or later, agent Y/Ln.”
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General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @mrspeacem1nusone, @halstead-severide-fan, @allivzs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria
Aaron Hotchner tag list: @mrs-ssa-hotch, @s1lverhand, @novabckly, @thatcrimeshowchick
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novemberheart · 2 months
Text
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{overview} It’s time for you to meet your new pack. John and Kyle have an unexpected reaction to your arrival. Your place in the pack may not be as permanent as you think……
{warnings} John is a bit of an a-hole, cursing, female reader, that's about it
Chapter 2 <- Chapter 3 -> Chapter 4
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“How do you think Simon’ll feel about this?” Johnny piqued up.
John looked up from his paperwork over to where Johnny was sprawled out on the couch in his office. The Scot had just finished a new charcoal masterpiece that would be hung in their living area.
“To be quite honest I'm not sure how I feel about it.” John sighed, standing up and stretching. His shoulders cracked quietly from being hunched over the oak desk.
“It's a big decision- one that he wasn't a part of.” Johnny reasoned. John nodded his head in agreement. “That’ll make him sour.”
“It might.” John agreed again. “Worst case scenario we could always send her back.”
Johnny was taken aback for a moment. Surprised that John would even suggest such a thing. Then he realized it wasn't John he was talking to, it was his Captain. The man who would do anything for the sake of his team- even at the expense of others. Not that he hadn’t been guilty of that either.
“Guess that's true,” Johnny said quietly.
“Let's go make sure the mother hen has eaten.” John sighed, a soft smile on his face. Johnny followed suit, the image of Kyles's face scrunching at the nickname crossing his mind.
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You had never been this nervous in your life. Your knees twitching with an overload of adrenaline.
“Your scent will throw them off.” Kate nearly gagged from next to you.
“Well, what am I supposed to do?” You shot back. Your hands knotted in your white sweater. “I think I’m going to be sick.” You whined, causing the driver to turn around slightly.
“There’s bags under your seat.” He practically shouted.
“Good to know, thanks.” You began to reach down before Kate stopped you.
“Will you please pull yourself together? You have had a waiting list of Alphas and packs who have wanted you since I’ve known you.” Kate reminded, her hands gripping yours tightly.
“That’s sweet Kate bu”-
“Shush. If this doesn't work out, which it will work out- you give me one phone call and I'll have you out of there before those hardheads figure out what they've lost. Deal.” It was the assurance you needed. You weren't going to be stranded here. You should know better by now that Kate has always had your best interest at heart.
“Thank you.” You breathed. She nodded her head, her senses finally getting a break from eye-watering sour. “There really a waiting list?” You questioned curiously. She glared at you out of the side of her vision but begrudgingly nodded her head.
“Bout five minutes till we get there.” The driver warned. You stopped yourself from stumbling back into a panic episode. Kate was right, if they caught one whiff of you right now, they'd send you back. “Would you be offended if I rolled down a window?” the driver nearly begged.
“No.” You mumbled.
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About three of the five minutes away it started to pour.
“That's fitting.” Kate sighed. “Grab your raincoat,” she commanded. You rolled your eyes, already pulling the yellow coat out of your bag.
“Yes, Ma’am.” You snarked, almost waiting for her to jab you with her elbow.
The car finally stopped. Kate's phone ‘tinged’ at that very moment.
“They’re waiting for us inside. Ready?” She asked, her eyes a bit scared like she was worried you were going to back out.
You took a deep breath.
“Ready.”
You and Kate quickly made your way inside a large gray building, your oversized hood proving its worth.
“John, Kyle.” Kate greeted, as both of you wiped your feet on the mat. You took one last look outside, peeling off your hood just in time for the door to shut. The action caused a gust of your scent to hit John and Kyle in the face.
A pleased growl echoed in the Alpha's chest. He raised his hand to his mouth, pressing his thumb and pointer finger against his nose, shocked at his reaction. The Beta on the other hand chose to press his shoulder against the wall to keep himself steady. Your scent reached a part of his brain he didn't even know was there.
“I apologize.” The alpha was the first to speak after he had lowered his hand. The purr in his chest began again, but he quickly cleared his throat, halting it. He flushed slightly, embarrassed by his lack of control. His mind was buzzing, the nearly uncontrollable desire to grab you and roll around in your scent was taking all of his restraint. He clenched his jaw, his canines beginning to ache.
“It's alright,” you assured quietly. Truth be told you hadn't heard a sound like that before. All the alphas you knew had been female. It made your insides weak, especially coming from a possible mate. Both men grew quiet, their eyes scanning you up and down as if you were a foreign creature. You suppose to them- you were.
“John.” You looked at the broad alpha. “And Kyle right?” You asked, turning toward the almost equally broad beta.
“God, where are my manners?” John sighed quietly to himself. “It's nice to meet you. I'm John and that's Kyle. Johnny is still in the medical ward, with Simon.”
“Kate told me about that. Was sorry to hear.” You offered up your sympathy. He gave you a polite smile.
“Figured me and Kyle could show you around and then we’ll head over there so you can meet everyone else,” John explained.
“Sounds good.” You smiled back.
“Bags?” John questioned.
“Oh, there in the car.” you winced looking out at the raging storm.
“I'll get it!” Kyle volunteered quickly, accidentally bumping into Kate on his way out.
“This way,” John spoke softly. His hand rested on your upper back guiding you out of the gray warehouse-type building. Kate followed behind, her eyes trained on his hand. She couldn't wait for the ‘I told you so’s.’
Once you left the building you were outside again- luckily this time the sidewalks were covered. You did enjoy how green everything was. Despite the cold, modern buildings- it was easy to breathe here. “It’s easier to take a cart,” John explained, guiding you into the passenger seat. Kate got in the back, not bothering to suppress the smirk across her face. John’s eyes were too trained on you to notice.
“What about Kyle?” you asked as John began to pull away.
“He’ll find his way back home. He always does.” He smiled, causing you to chuckle. Truth be told he knew his beta needed a moment to clear his senses.
You weaved through the building till you got to the housing areas- which unfortunately weren't covered.
“Shite day out,” John grumbled.
“I like the rain.” You hummed absentmindedly. Something about it felt so healing. John's eyes flickered over to you, watching for a moment as you surveyed your surroundings.
“Here we are.” John huffed, pulling his burly frame out of the cart. It instantly rose without his weight in it, causing you and Kate to giggle. You entered another large gray building, this one tall and commanding. There were lots of windows, the dark cloudy day making it easy to see inside. John held the door open for you and you pulled off the side with a small ‘thank you.’
“Stairs or elevator?” John asked, turning over his shoulder.
“Elevator,” Kate answered for you. John's lips quirk upwards.
“Elevator it is.” He led you both to the elevator, holding his arm out to make sure the door didn't try to close on either of you. He pressed the number eight.
“Is that the top floor?” You questioned. The elevator was fast, you swore you could feel your hair being pushed down.
“Yeah. It's almost like a flat.” John explained. The elevator doors rolled open, to reveal a long hallway. One side is littered with doors, the other with large windows.
“Wow.” You whispered, stopping to take in the view. You could see nearly everything from here. The base was surrounded by trees. You could only imagine how magnificent it was without all the clouds and fog. You followed John and passed the doors until you reached the very last one.
“This is us.” He held up a key card, a light flicking green from the door. “We’re still waiting for yours, you can just use Simon’s till we get it.”
As soon as you walked in there was a galley kitchen. Composed of light oak and white stone countertops. “Here's laundry and storage,” John explained walking through the kitchen to the two french doors at the end of the galley. “Dining area,” he explained, resting his hand on the counter. There were six stools pulled up to the counter. The kitchen overlooked the living area, which took up the majority of the home. There was a plush L-shaped, couch facing a large TV on the wall. Facing into the living room was a series of doors. The one on the right closest to the kitchen was Johnny’s, then a bathroom. “You’ll be sharing this with Johnny and Kyle. Not to worry they’re clean boys.” John assured. Next to the bathroom was Kyle’s room. On the other side of the living room, across from Kyle’s room was Simon's room. Next to Simon’s room was your room, and then next to yours was John's room.
You did feel a bit safer sandwiched between the two alphas of the pack.
But you didn't like the fact you would have to traipse through the living room every time you needed to use the bathroom.
Next to Simon’s door was the door leading out to the patio. It was nice a spacious, but the only thing out there was an ashtray balancing on one of the bars. Beside the TV were two big windows that you knew you would spend a lot of time staring out of.
Maybe Kate could by you a lawn chair as a housewarming gift.
“It's nice.” You said at the end of the tour.
“It gets the job done.”
It was finally time for Kyle to make his way in with your bags. You had one suitcase and a duffle. He carried it like it was empty. You opened your new bedroom door for him, and he set it down without letting his feet cross the threshold.
“I'm sorry I didn't get to properly introduce myself earlier. I'm Kyle, Kyle Garrick.” His voice was smooth and confident compared to the way he bolted from you earlier.
“It's okay, Kyle.” You smiled, finding yourself a bit lost in his warm eyes. John cleared his throat behind you two causing the trances to break.
“How about we all go get some lunch? Wait for the rain to die down then head over to medical?”
Sounded good to you.
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Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope the room setup isn’t too confusing! I’ll post a little render of their home and link it here! See you in two days for chapter 4! 🧡
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junipers-archive · 1 year
Text
Sweater
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Word Count: 600
Includes: fluff! the team finds out about reader x Spencers relationship when you show up to work wearing one of his sweaters
"Y/n." It was Penelope, she was whispering conspicuously as you entered the office heading for the conference room.
"Goodmorning!" You answer quickly as you were already running late due to your much needed coffee run this morning.
She begins to trail after you. "Y/n."
You stop, now wondering what's wrong, especially as all the heads in the room begin looking towards you as you walk in. But it isn't until Derek speaks up that you're hinted as to why,
"So you and pretty boy finally did it?" Oh no.
You mind races trying to figure out how he knew. Did Spencer tell him? You'd agreed not to tell anyone at first so you wouldn't cause absolute chaos. But it's been sixth months you guess it's be perfectly reasonable if-
"Your-your Sweater...its Spencers." Penelope elaborates, calming you rampant mind, all at the same time making it spasm.
You look down silently at what you're wearing, its almost identical as your regular getup, but because you were really running late this morning you'd grabbed a sweater from the couch in your shared apartment on your way out.
Completely missing the fact it was Spencers. It had been a soft cobalt blue color crew neck, one of his favorites with little designs lining it in navy...and also one he wore quite often.
You stared in both disbelief from how you'd manage to grab the one he used most consistently and also at your own stupidity and how you'd failed to notice the whole car ride here.
You look up bewilderedly, to find your colleagues staring at you all in varying ways, Derek was grinning, Rossi was smirking, Penelope had taken to a worried/excited look, Emily was respectfully trying to hide her smile and even Hotch was pretending to read the papers in front of him to avoid eye contact.
You attempt a reply calmly but stammer despite yourself,
"I-I-we-um"
closing your eyes to focus your thoughts and breathe, you open them to find Spencer your lovely boyfriend entering or rather staggering into the room.
He had taken the long route so you'd show up at different times,
"Hi! Sorry I'm late-I just-I-What-why's everybody looking at me like that?"
Everyone shaking their heads and smiling to themselves ignored his question as Penelope began to brief all of you on the case.
You hope the subject will be forgotten.
But of course it won't be, and surprisingly its Hotch that asks once the case had been explained and he'd called wheels up,
"Are you two dating?"
Everyone was still seated, waiting for something to be said, and you could see the pleasure in all their faces as he uttered the question.
Spencer swallowed though, not having become aware of the situation even after you'd tried to pass him a note like some third grader.
It had read: I'm wearing your sweater!
To which he'd simply responded with, I'm sure no one's noticed.
Having of course not been aware of your previous interaction with the team.
"We-uh-well-" he tried to begin
"Yes. We are dating." You had to confirm it, knowing if you didn't it would only make matters worse in the long run.
To that Hotch gave his lopsided smirk, "I'm Happy for you, but I'm not thrilled to do the paperwork."
The team of course having heard, errupted in giggles, reminiscent of child like giddy as they finally took it as their cue to leave.
And as they filed out Spencer received several pats on the backs and "good going reid" from Rossi and Derek as you yourself had been berated with questions from Emily and Penelope and "I swear to god if he hurts you-"'.
But as you both shyly retreat, gather your things and exit you agree that the best reaction had been from Hotch as he whispered quietly before he left,
"Well I guess I have to let you room together now."
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fbfh · 2 years
Text
rodrick x hyperfeminine reader hcs
wc: 2.3k
genre: mutual pining, contrasting aesthetics
pairing: rodrick x hyperfeminine reader (fem/she her/referred to as a girl)
summary: you're new at school and it takes a painfully long time for you to find the only hot guy there. he's had a massive painful crush on you since you first set foot through the door.
warnings: reader is a little insecure/anxious and copes through hyperfemininity, rodrick has low self esteem and dyslexia, they both think they have no chance with the other one, jocks keep asking you out, you're friends with Heather and Madison
a/n: obsessed with this dynamic. when you finally date everyone is so fucking confused lmao
@dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @yesv01
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First of fucking all
Match made in heaven
On your first day of school at Crossland you turned a whole lot of heads 
You figure you should make a statement and decide to channel your idol, Elle Woods
You show up to school in a pink mini skirt blazer set, a little halter top with a heart cut out, and matching pink heels
You’re obviously rocking your signature scent, strawberry pound cake body spray and matching strawberry fizz flavored lip gloss
You did a mani pedi and a facial over the weekend to destress 
You walk in quickly to avoid the people that are staring at you for some reason, unintentionally strutting through the halls in a way that appears totally confident 
You reach the office to get your schedule and tuck it into your heart shaped bag along with your sunglasses 
You make sure to smile and be extra friendly with all the teachers and administrative staff, and in every class where you have to introduce yourself over and over, you try to project what you hope is an approachable friendliness 
People were already starting to whisper about the living barbie doll that just showed up out of nowhere, and these whispers reached none other than Heather Hills
She grabs Madison and tries to hunt you down
To confront you for trying to steal her place as the prettiest most popular girl there
Before she can threaten you, you’re asking her where the good boutiques in town are
You have such a unique, sunshiney charm that she totally forgets what she came to talk to you about
Before she knows it, you and her and Madison have plans to go shopping this weekend
You praise yourself for making a couple friends on the first day, not realizing you accidentally waltzed your way into the elusive popular girl clique 
By the end of the day, you have entirely by accident established yourself as queen bee of the school
As time goes on, you’re relieved that at least some of the people at Crossland are so friendly
Sometimes people say hi to you, and you always reply with a smile or wave or hi back
But a lot of the time people just stare at you
You’re somewhat used to it since not a lot of people wear nearly as much pink as you do
Or glitter
Or use a fuzzy pink strawberry scented glitter gel pen for all their homework
So you try to chalk it up to that 
As the days go on, everyone thinks they know exactly what to expect from you
You’re like Heather 2.0, just a little nicer 
Which is almost worse
When Heather is mean to everyone she doesn’t like (which is almost everyone) at least they have a reason to hate her
But you??
You’re so elusive 
You don’t have a ton of friends, you don’t go out of your way to go party unless Heather and Madison drag you there
But what’s weird is that you’ve turned down every guy who’s actually worked up the courage to ask you out
Every single guy at crossland wants to ask you out
But when the captain of the football team 
And the quarterback 
And the hottest guy in your grade all asked you out
And the whole school watched you politely turn them down one after the other
No one else thought they stood a chance
Heather and Madison think you’re crazy for turning them down
“I just… I’m not really into guys like that.” you say dismissively
“Hot jocks?” Heather demands
You would have said the type of guys who’d have bullied you in middle school, but now doesn’t seem like the right time to bring that up
“Yeah.” you agree, and eventually they stop pressing you
Your status of queen bee is even more solidified by the rumors rampantly spreading that not only are you unimaginably hot
But you’re also impossible to date
This becomes common knowledge after a while
Until one day when you’re running late to school
Heather’s still complaining about having to turn around and pick up her sister
“I mean, you were the one who forgot her at your house…” Madison starts, piping down fast when Heather glares at her
As you all get out of her convertible, tires screech behind you
A beat up white van with spray paint writing on the side parks haphazardly next to the curb
Muffled guitar and drums blast out of the car speakers, and as the driver opens the door, you recognize it as green day
Your eyes widen, and you lag behind to try and get a look at the driver
Heather’s ranting about something, and Madison grabs your arm, pulling you along as you watch the driver stumble out and trip on the curb
He has messy black hair, eyeliner, and he’s wearing a well loved ramones shirt
As if that wasn’t enough, he shoves the drumsticks he’s holding into his back pocket, poking out awkwardly 
“Who is that?” you ask
Heather and Madison whip around, ecstatic that you finally found someone at school you think is hot
They scan the scattered crowd of other late students trying to make it inside before first bell
“Who?” Heather demands, looking straight past the guy at the captain of the football team who you’d turned down for the fourth time earlier this week. “Brent? You know Brent.” 
A twinge of jealousy flashing through her voice as she finishes, desperate for more information
“No,” you say, pointing. “The guy who looks like Billie Joe Armstrong.”
“Who?” they both demand, still looking right past him
“Black hair, black shirt…”
Finally they see him
“Heffley??” Heather demands, holding back a gag at his name. “No, no, no. Not him, anyone but him.” 
She shudders, pushing past both of you to go inside
You’re stuck in place, watching him greet his friends and laugh loudly as they shove each other hello
Madison leans in close
“That’s Rodrick. His god awful band ruined Heather’s sweet 16 and she’s still pissed about it. Going near him is social suicide.” 
It suddenly makes sense that you haven’t bumped into the only hot guy at school yet
If you’re always with Heather and Heather avoids him like the plague… 
Madison drags you inside, and you’re already trying to figure out a way to talk to him
Just because you didn’t know Rodrick exited before now, doesn’t mean he hasn’t been drooling over you since you showed up at Crossland
“Uh, dude… was she just staring at you?” Ward says once Madison finally drags you inside, forcing you to break your unwavering stare you had locked on Rodrick 
He turns around quickly, looking for a more logical explanation for you looking in his direction as some football players walk past 
“She must have been looking at Brent.” he decides
“No dude,” Ben punches his arm, “she was totally making eyes at you.” 
They all laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement as he drags himself to his first class of the day
He can’t focus even more than usual
Were you staring at him? Making eyes at him like Ben had said?
He stares at the back of your head in all your shared classes, which is a lot of them, just like he always does 
And just like always, his mind starts to wander
Of course he’s down stupid bad for you, he doesn’t know anyone that’s not
He wonders what you smell like, what you look like up close
He wonders what your hands would feel like on his body, if you’d drag your pretty manicured nails across his skin
He imagines kissing you in such vivid detail it feels real for a few moments
Then he starts to wonder what you’d taste like 
Probably bubblegum, you usually chew it between periods when you won’t get in trouble for it
He wonders if your lip gloss is flavored
God, since the first day you showed up in this shithole he’s been thinking about you
He’s had countless dreams about you to
He always goes right back to sleep hoping he can see you again, feel your body against his, feel your lips on his skin one more time
He knows it’s hopeless, knows that even if you’ve seen him around and are vaguely aware of his existence, you don’t know his name
And why would you want to??
He’s such a teenage dirtbag he practically has rights to the song
Plus Brent is still determined to get you to go out with him
He considers himself your boyfriend already and has been threatening anyone who stares at you more than normal
Even if he could get past Brent and his own debilitating self doubt and low self esteem, you’re with Heather and Madison constantly, who still think he’s worse than mold after the incident and Heather’s sweet 16
You’re literally untouchable 
Even still, he doesn’t think he’s ever had a crush this bad
Not even back when he liked Heather
The only way he can get through classes is by spacing out the whole time (his teachers expect nothing less of course) and imagining you marching right up to him and sitting on his lap to make out with him
The only notes he takes anymore are scribbled song lyrics about you until his hand cramps up and he gets one of those nausea headache he gets from trying to write or read too much 
He thinks about you so much
It’s getting to the point where he’s thinking about you all the time
And he has absolutely no idea what to do about it
Because he doesn’t stand a chance
There’s no way in hell he could approach you, much less get you to go out with him
Plus you’ve literally turned down every guy that’s asked you out this year
Why would you want to go out with him???
Heather and Madison are wondering the same thing
You could easily pull anyone in this entire school
And now you’re making eyes at Heffley out of nowhere????
It doesn’t make sense 
They can’t pay attention for the rest of the day
Neither can you
You spend the entire day trying to figure out how to talk to him (you could just walk over to him)
How to get his attention (you already have it)
How to set up the perfect scenario to make him fall for you (he fell hard and fast long before now and has not recovered)
A party
You have to throw a party and get his band to play
Then you can corner him after the show to buy a cd and see if you can get it to go somewhere
It’s perfect
Plus Heather’s been telling you that you should throw at least one party before the school year is over
You tell Heather you want to throw a party this weekend
She’s ecstatic, thinking you’re finally moving on to something better to focus on
She and Madison are so busy helping you get everything ready they don’t notice you staring at Rodrick in the halls every chance you get and never managing to get him to look over at you
You’re so busy throwing an elaborate rager of a party to try and seduce him like Jay Gatsby that you don’t notice him staring at you when you’re not looking too
You can’t let anything ruin your chance with Rodrick 
Nothing can possibly go wrong
So when Brent asks you out again at lunch you turn him down more definitively than you have before
You tell him you’re just not into him like that, and to please stop asking you out
He’s never had someone tell him that they’re not attracted to him and want nothing to do with him 
It was definitely a much needed blow to his self esteem
Rumors that you broke up with Brent (even though you weren’t dating in the first place) spread like wildfire 
So after school when you manage to slip away from Heather and Madison for long enough to approach Rodrick and ask him and his band to play at your party this weekend 
It feels like a fucking dream
Not only do they have a gig
But it’s at your party???? 
It feels fake
It feels like something his touch starved hormonal brain would concoct to distract him from what he should be thinking about
They start trying to figure out sets and extra practice time before your party
And Ben insists the whole time that you were making eyes at him
Except this time Rodrick kind of believes him
There’s no way this means he has a chance with you, right??
He watches you walk away
And as you walk away, you let out an excited suppressed giggle that you actually talked to him
You’re still flustered and blushing under all your makeup, fanning your warm face as you hop into the passenger seat of Heathers convertible 
“What’s up with you?” she asks, noticing your distracted state
“I’m just… really excited for this party.” you smile, biting your lip
You don’t think about a thing other than him for the rest of the day
You decide this party really cannot come soon enough
If you play your cards right
You might even get him to like you back
You ruminate on this as you start picking out an outfit - in your signature pink, of course - completely unaware that Rodrick is already rehearsing for your party
And thinking about you just as much
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euthymiya · 4 months
Text
the fontainian weather forecast ft. neuvillette
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in which your boyfriend is excited to share his newest hobby with you—but it doesn’t go according to plan. unfortunately, the poor people of fontaine must pay the price through the treacherously rainy weather until you do something about it
contains: gender neutral reader ; takes place during lantern rite after neuvillette visits qiaoying village ; ceramics master neuvi bc he’s a cutie ; sad neuvi :( and mentions of his status as hydro dragon and influence over the rain ; fluff ; established relationship ; reader is a bit of tease but it’s cute i swear
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in fontaine, there is no such thing as a light drizzle. when it rains, it pours.
like the gods almighty during the war, the rains pelts down in harsh blows angrily, fiercely, so unforgiving. but unlike the gods during the war, the reason behind the rain is a much gentler source. one you know exceedingly well, like the back of your hand and the lines of your palm.
neuvillette is sad again—you sigh fondly at the thought as you approach his door, knocking once, twice, then a final time before you call, “neuvillette? may i come in?”
“of course,” comes a quiet, croaked out reply. his voice is much too evidently strained. enough so, that you cautiously open the door just enough to slip in, but not enough to allow any possible wandering eyes outside his office to catch a glimpse of his potentially crestfallen face.
and, sure enough, he looks undoubtedly devastated.
“it’s pouring, my love,” you hum, closing the distance between the two of you as you walk across the room, instantly reaching to cup his face with both hands, “look at me, i’m drenched. is that anyway to welcome me when i’ve come looking my best to see you?”
you inspect his face, noting the downturned lips that present the most heartbreaking frown, and the helplessly miserable eyes that look up at you as he lets out a soft breath and leans into your touch.
“i’m sorry, my dear,” he mumbles, his own hands curling around your hips as he pulls you forward. not many people would imagine the iudex as one to be so emotional, let alone pull you close enough to slump against your figure and press his cheek into your shirt.
your fingers smooth through his hair, stroking the locks gently as he inhales your scent and sighs. “and what would the cause be of my little hydro dragon’s woes? surely, the sunny day just moments ago wasn’t my mind deceiving me of your good spirits.”
“well, i was quite looking forward to seeing you,” he says quietly, arms wrapped around your waist as he hugs your form against him, “your visit has been much anticipated all day.”
“i see,” you nod, “so then you must’ve changed your mind, hm? dreading seeing me, is that it?”
“of course not,” he pulls away, frowning as he looks up at you with a troubled look on his face, “there is not one moment i don’t desire to be in your presence. i mean it.”
you giggle, pinching his cheek as he looks at you slightly confused. sometimes, you think the most endearing quality that he possesses is his lack of awareness regarding human customs. affection is new territory, as is the practice of courting—but your favorite part is his frequent ability to miss every bantering joke you make. his innocence makes your heart sweet double the size.
you look at him with an amused grin as you tease, “i’m most relieved to hear that, monsieur. now tell me what’s on your mind.”
he relaxes a bit at the title. as bad as he might be with the ever complicated social cues that humans seem to endlessly create, neuvillette has mastered the art of understanding you. by now, he’s very familiar with the fact that monsieur is only a title you use when you’re being playful.
“i’m afraid a rather…unexpected turn of events has declined my mood for the day,” he mumbles, staring up at you with a slight curl to his lips. you fight the urge to poke them with your finger as you hum and gently trace along the horns on his head with a delicate touch, encouraging him to continue.
“and what might that be, darling?”
“i made a gift for you,” he explains, letting out a sad, disappointed sigh before he continues, “it was during my trip to qiaoying village.”
“you mean your trip that lasted half a day? honestly, neuvillette, surely you must be out of your mind. who takes a trip for less than a full day?”
“i still have many responsibilities for the day,” he insists, “but i had the time to stop at a stall that offered tourists the chance to try their hand at the ceramic arts.”
“well,” you raise a brow, “did you give it a go?”
“i did. it was most enjoyable—i intended to gift you my creation.”
“well, what’s stopping you, silly? i’m sure it’s lovely.”
for a moment, you wonder if his spirits have been dampened by lingering doubts of whether or not you’ll like his gift. you think it’s absurd—you’ll love anything from him, but your question seems to add to his low mood when the rain hits the glass of his window harder, making you quickly glance outside at the worsening weather.
for a fleeting moment, you heart goes out to the poor, unsuspecting victims that walk the streets of fontaine without an umbrella—they must be soaked to the bone with the intensity of the current rain.
“i thought so too,” he says woefully, looking up at you with such dejected eyes, you pout at him and lean down, kissing his lips softly in reassurance.
“then what seems to be the issue? with your mood, you’ll wash the streets empty of any people left at this rate, sweetheart.”
he pulls away from you, slowly opening the drawer of his desk and taking out what looks like two ceramic pieces. you catch a glance of a few different hues of blue, smiling to yourself as you note how the colors will certainly remind you of a certain man you happen to love any time you use his gift.
that is, until you realize the pressing issue.
the gift, which you realize is now a ladle, is broken into two pieces, cracked down the middle of what would have been a very precious dragon shaped ceramic.
neuvillette stares down at the pieces in sorrow as he murmurs, “i’ve regretfully had a moment of clumsiness and knocked it off my desk with my elbow. it’s broken now.”
“oh, honey,” you huff out a quiet chuckle, hands cradling the sides of his face as you turn him to meet your gaze, “is that what’s made you upset? this unfortunate little accident?”
“yes,” he averts his gaze back to the pieces in his hands, pressing them together to fit where they’ve cracked so you can both see what it once was. “i was rather eager to present it to you.”
“such precious sentiments,” you smile, leaning down and peppering kisses along his cheeks, trailing down and focusing extra attention to the corners of his mouth until they seem to uncurl just a little and lift. “i’m flattered you’d think of me during your trip to bring me back something.”
“i always think of you,” he whispers against your mouth, smiling slightly when you peck his lips with a sweet grin of your own. you’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but the rain pounding against the window almost seems to ease a little.
“do you now? then i must be the luckiest citizen in all of fontaine.”
“i only wish you could’ve seen it in its proper glory. i quite enjoyed the art of making it.”
“then perhaps we can visit the stall together when you next have the time. you can show me your new hobby while you make me another—we’ll be extra careful bringing it back.”
“really?” he pulls back slightly, looking up at you with significantly brighter eyes as you stifle a chuckle and nod, “you’d like to try it with me?”
“of course, you silly thing,” you trace his cheek with your thumb, smoothing the pad of your finger against the soft, warm swell of his skin as he relaxes into your touch. “although, this time, perhaps you’ll grant yourself at least a full day of your time to spend properly with me.”
“i will prepare to work my duties ahead of time to account for such a trip immediately,” he nods, a charming, dazzling little smile tugging at his lips as his hand clasps the back of yours, keeping your palm in place against his cheek.
the rain has stopped, you note—and really, you think the people of this nation owe you their sincerest gratitude. you’re almost certain your ability to keep a happy dragon has saved them from a number of devastating floods.
it’s not hard work, though. neuvillette is far too easy to keep happy and content in your presence.
“you really don’t need to,” you sigh wearily, “a break is certainly not the end of the world. but regardless, i look forward to it.”
you lean close once more, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead—the rays of sun through the window are bright and warm almost as soon as your lips meet his skin, earning a light snort from you as you eye the glass in amusement.
“feeling better?” you tease.
this time, he isn’t so ignorant to your playfulness as he flushes, looking away while he clears his throat and chuckling as he replies, “ah…yes, i suppose i am feeling much better indeed.”
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bonus:
you can feel the rhythmic rise and fall of neuvillette’s chest under your cheek, counting his breaths in your head as you lightly trace shapes into his skin. it’s quiet, in your shared bedroom, the slow beginnings of tiredness pulling you into a sleepy, half conscious state.
he breaks the silence before you can fully make the transition to slumber, however.
“while we’re on our trip,” he murmurs, voice clear with excitement as he continues, “i’ll have to take you to taste the local spring water. it’s much purer in flavor when fresh from the source.”
you blink, registering his words for a moment before huffing out an amused, breathy laugh.
“i take it you tried it during your stop?”
“of course,” he confirms, arms pulling your closer as he relaxes deeper into the sheets, “it was a lovely experience.”
“wonderful. i simply cannot wait to be a water connoisseur with you, my love.”
he hums happily, entirely missing the playful bite behind your words as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.
you think fontaine is due for quite a few sunny days back to back, thanks to your valiant and tireless efforts.
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this is so silly and random lols i just thought neuvi was so cute during that ladle exchange and i think about it often but of course i had to taint it with some reverse comfort because thats what i do best LOL
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