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#or it will be once i get off work and can take this cardigan off
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bra/undershirt straps as an accessory. it's stylish. it's layering
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luveline · 7 months
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I'm in an angsty mood.. and I love love love Spencer x bombshell!reader.
maybe she gets hurt somehow (maybe like an unsub or something) but refuses to get checked out
ty for requesting!! sry this isn't super angsty 
cw criminal minds typical gun violence
Blood is a strange thing. It can run quickly or slow, feel tepid or burning hot. It's warm and uncomfortable as it slinks down the curve of your shoulder to the very tip of your index finger, dark as coal pitch in the poor lightning. 
The gunfight is promptly ended, so quickly that no one even knows you've been hit. Morgan throws himself at one unsub and the other is shot in the thigh. Your ears ring, a gun firing too close to your head, clearly. 
In all the hubbub, nobody notices you're hurt. 
You'd like to keep it that way. 
It's not that you believe you're infallible, nor that the others believe it either, but in the grand scheme of things it is a very small cut that you can attend to in your hotel room alone with a butterfly stitch or even a roll of bandages. There's no way it requires real stitches, and no way you're gonna sit in the back of an ambulance for the next hour. 
Your jacket is black. The wound clots itself while you're in the SUV —you choose a window where your arm faces away from everyone and you manage it. And truthfully… you would like the others to think you're smarter than getting hit by a stray bullet. After everything that's happened lately, you've reason to build yourself up. Let the others hold you in some prestige again. 
It works for a time. You get back to the hotel, and everyone says goodnight. Your room is clean and waiting for your return. 
You'd collapse into bed if it didn't mean you'd leave a bloody line on the linens. You shed your ruined jacket and throw it in the trash. Your shirt is split where the bullet nicked you, and that comes off next. The wound begins bleeding sluggishly at the agitation but doesn't erupt, and stays strong as you wipe the skin clean around it. Your fingers mar with copper stain, the face cloth you've sacrificed turning an ugly brown, but eventually you've cleaned the skin enough to see the damage. 
It's deep but small. A nick. 
The issue is your lack of bandages. It's a hotel room, a small one. There's no first aid kit and your go bag is sorely lacking. Which means… 
You have to go bat your eyelids at someone, and if you're being honest, you only ever want to do that to one Dr. Spencer Reid. 
He's not expecting you, clearly. You weren't expecting it either. "Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes, his pyjama pants flush to the floor. 
"You were sleeping? I'm sorry." 
"Don't be sorry, are you kidding me?" He opens the door wider to encourage you in, turning away from you as he murmurs, "S'like my dream." 
He must be very tired. You beam like a fool and follow him inside. "I had a dream like this once, too. Same kind of dream, do you think?" 
"Knowing you, probably." He's growing more comfortable with you, but he's still clearly a little flustered to be this suddenly presented with you, wrapping himself up in a cardigan hanging over the single sad chair. "What's up?" 
"I'm glad you asked." You take your uninjured arm out of your coat, and then the other. You know what you're doing, laughing softly as his eyes turn to dark dimes in an otherwise pale face. "I need your help with something, Spence." 
"Uh–" He stammers, looking you up and down with shock. "Um, I–" He licks his lips quickly. "Okay." 
You kind of hate that you aren't there to seduce him for a split second. Too bad your arm has started to throb. "I need a bandaid," you say, turning your arm into his line of sight. "Help me out?" 
"I know something you don't know," Morgan sing-songs. Emily sips her coffee, mildly interested by her friend's taunting. She doesn't give him any feeding, waiting, and sure enough he cracks. "What, you don't want to know?" 
"You want to tell me, right?" 
"Mm, no. I'll tell Penelope." 
"Fine! Alright, what is it?" She breaks, putting her coffee down on the little table in front of her. They're sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for Hotch and the others to collect their things. The jet awaits, as do a few hours in the air before she gets to sleep in her own bed again. 
"I saw–" Morgan laughs. "This is too good. I saw a certain bombshell visiting Reid last night. After hours."
Emily's heart kicks in. "No way!" she gasps. "I mean, I know there's something between them, we all know that, but– his room, seriously?" 
"He didn't even question her. She knocked, he answered, she went inside." 
"What were you doing up?" 
"That's my business," Morgan says. 
Emily leans forward to gossip. This is insane. Sure, you flirt with Spencer relentlessly, and sure, he blushes like he loves it the majority of the time, he even manages to get you back, but you're sleeping together? "This is so scandalous," she whispers. 
Her job is hard, but God does Emily love her team. She's genuinely happy for you both, but seriously! She giggles to herself at the drama of it all, and Morgan looks like he might say more, but then he looks behind her and stops. 
Emily turns. You and Spencer are walking out of the elevator together, and while you aren't looking more coupled than usual, Spencer's acting unusually. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed but carrying in the relatively quiet lobby. 
"I promise I'm okay, Spence." Your voice drops. "It's our secret, okay?" 
"Sure, but–" He takes your hand, there, where everyone can see, the love in the line of his shoulders clear to anyone who might be watching, which Emily and Morgan very much are. "Can I look at it again?" 
Morgan laughs into his hand, hiding it with a cough too late. Emily kicks his leg and he looks admonished, but it doesn't convince you where you look up from your conversation, the same surprise written in your features as Emily herself feels while Spencer continues, "You need to let me take care of you," he says, practically pleading. 
"Spencer," you say, looking Emily straight in the eye, "you took care of me just fine last night." 
She gawps. 
Spencer whispers in response to your lowered tone, making his answer partially inaudible, "It was my first…" He shakes his head. "I've never…  and I know you said it didn't hurt that much but… go see a doctor–" 
You stop him with an affectionate smile. "You could never hurt me, handsome. Do I look like I'm in pain?" 
"No." Spencer drops your hand. "If you're sure. Let me go get you a drink, okay? Go sit down." 
"Yes sir." 
Nothing about you says anything different to usual as you sit on the lobby chair next to Morgan's, beside your worn hoodie. You fiddle with a fraying sleeve as you kick one leg over the other, giving your friends a pleased smile. "Morning," you say lightly. 
Emily genuinely doesn't know what to say. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar. "I…" 
"You're shameless," Morgan says with a laugh. 
"Look," you say, shrugging though the action makes you wince, "I could tell you the truth and you wouldn't believe me." 
"Sure we wouldn't. Reid looks like a lost puppy right now." 
Spencer stands anxiously by the coffee machine across the way, his gaze locked solidly on you where you sit. You throw him a smile and he looks away. 
"I don't deserve him," you say softly. 
Spencer carries your bag for you all the way to the BAU. Emily doesn't think it's a question of deserving, though you do, only an example of Spencer's big heart. And, you know, post hookup appreciation, or something. 
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moonchildstyles · 4 months
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can we get a chiaroscuro blurb where maybe harry chases petal around? like a game but it takes a spicy turn 👀
wordcount: 8.4k+
—————
(Y/N) fumbled with her keys as she took the short scale of steps to the front door of the manor, her hands full of grocery bags she was too stubborn to make more than one trip for. She could feel her back sweating under the heavy cardigan dropped over her form, the sun far too bright and warm given the time of year. 
Just when she thought she had the grip right, her keys fell to her feet and out of reach. An exasperated huff fell from her lips. She should have just called Harry to help when she made it home.
Bending carefully to keep her grocery bags from tumbling out of her arms, she blindly reached around for her keys. Her fingers grazed the stoop with no such luck, her annoyance growing just as the heavy door to the manor swung open. 
"My love, is everything al—What are you doing on the ground?" Harry rushed, urgency entering his voice once he caught sight of her struggle, "What happened? Are you hurt?"
He was at her side in a blink, immediately taking the bags from her arms and steadying her. He took stock of her, a familiar expression striking his features; he was worried, near frantic attempting to find where she could have been injured.
"I'm okay," she shook her head, grateful for him taking some of the burden from her hands, "I just thought I wouldn't have to make more than one trip, then I dropped my keys and it's just—I don't know, it's too hot outside." 
A pinch creased Harry's brows, giving him wrinkles that would disappear the second he smoothed his features. "Why didn't you call for me? I would have helped you, petal." 
She shook her head, following after Harry with her keys in hand and only a single grocery bag into the manor. "It's too sunny. I thought I could make it, so I didn't want to make you come out if you didn't have to." 
"I can handle some sun, darling," he assured her, getting her safely inside the manor before he closed the door and sealed out the unseasonal sunshine, "Especially if it is for you." 
A small smile curled over her lips at his declaration. Of course he would say that it is worth it to potentially combust or go blind if it meant that he could help her bring her groceries in. 
It was sweet—and only a little stupid. 
Marching off to the kitchen, Harry didn't wait before he began unpacking all of her items and placing them within the cabinets and fridge. (Y/N) did little more than perching on the countertop, knowing that he wouldn't allow any kind of help since she had already gone through the trouble to shop herself (on his dime, though he never let her use that against him in the argument). She knew he could have it done in a matter of seconds, but he tended to refrain from using his supernatural abilities in moments like this, insisting she made him want to slow down and feel normal with her. That left her to watch as he bubbled around, unpacking with the reusable bags being folded away for another time. 
The sight brought her back to her first night at the manor, before she had even met him. The kitchen had been so clumsily stocked with the strangest variety of ingredients. Neither him nor Niall had any idea of what a human needed to make a proper meal. 
"Has the forecast changed at all for this afternoon?" (Y/N) asked, not bothering to take her eyes off him as he worked. 
A grim line settled on his lips. "Not as far as I know. I am starting to worry I won't be able to accompany you later." 
Her mouth edged into a soft pout. "Really?"
"'M afraid so, my love," he said, an apologetic quirk to his lips.
"I don't want to go if you can't come, though," (Y/N) argued, kicking her feet from where she sat on the counter. She was just a moment away from pulling out her phone and rain checking on Charlotte for another day. 
"You should still go, petal," Harry countered, putting away the last ingredient before he drifted to stand between her spread thighs, "Do not cancel on my account." 
"But the whole point of today was so you could meet my friends. It kind of defeats the purpose if you don't come with me." She would have to tell them he came down with something, and reschedule to a day with a promise of cloudy weather. 
His lips were still in a thin line when he settled his hands on her thighs, a chill seeping through the denim of her jeans. "I do not want you to miss out on your friends and your human activities on my account. I don't think it's fair." 
"I see Charlotte and the others plenty, H," she said, placing her own hands on his with her palms warming his skin, "Today really was going to mostly be about you. Plus, I know Charlotte kind of loves it when I cancel, so she can stay in with her boyfriend instead. They'll understand." 
With the pinch between his brows only winding tighter, (Y/N) knew he was far from convinced but when he peeked up at her through his lashes, she could tell he wasn't going to argue. "Only if you are sure, my love. Please, if you change your mind, do not feel bad about leaving me here. I want you to do whatever makes you happiest." 
"I will," she settled with a small smile, despite knowing that her happiest would be found right here in the manor with him. 
Curling her fingers around his own, she held onto his hands as she leant towards him and pressed a small kiss to his lips. 
It was Harry that chased after her when she began to pull away, ensuring she wasn't far before the chill of his mouth was once again buttoned to her own. She smiled into his kiss.
"Are you happy I'm staying home now?" she asked against his mouth, causing him to push his kiss to the corner of her mouth. 
He paused, his hands flexing around the full of her thighs. 
"Perhaps a little."
—————
"Let me finish this one section. Then I am all yours, petal." 
Harry's murmured voice was quiet in the middle of his studio, barely much louder than the swish of his brush over the canvas propped in front of his stool. His palette was full of color, the evidence of the last hour of work he'd put into the finishing layer of his latest piece. 
(Y/N) couldn't contain the heavy sigh she heaved as she draped herself over his form. Her arms dangled down over his shoulders, her face pressed cheek to cheek with his. A pout was on her lips as she watched him make changes so subtle she could barely even notice them. 
This wasn't exactly what she had in mind when she cancelled her day plans.
He'd been at this for what felt like forever, and (Y/N) had been itching to pry him away for at least the last twenty minutes. She could hardly stand still, let alone actually watch him. 
It was his fault, really. 
It was Harry who had used the early hours of the afternoon to make a batch of sugary cupcakes, complete with chocolate frosting and raspberry compote shoved in the middle. After being the taste tester during the making and stealing a couple once they were cooled, (Y/N) was now experiencing what she could only call a sugar high and wanted Harry's attention more than anything. (Though she wasn't up to admit it, the late afternoon latte she made out of boredom probably had more than just a little to do with the extra energy).
She impatiently watched him make another minute stroke, adding a barely there brush of white highlight on a bush. The sound of his brush swirling through paint on his palette had her jaw ticking.
"Are you done yet?"
A huff of laughter left Harry's lips. "Almost, my love. What has gotten into you, may I ask?" 
"I'm bored, and I want to play with you," she pouted, curling her arms around him in a clumsy hug. 
"Yeah?" he prompted, his smile audible, "What would you like to play, hm?" 
He was only teasing her, she was sure. He hadn't even stopped painted when he spoke. (Y/N) deflated, sinking into his shoulders. "I don't know." 
The change in her inflection had Harry pushing his palette to the side, his full attention landing on her as he twirled on his stool to face her. He collected her hands in his, the glamoured green of his eyes wavering in distress. 
"I didn't mean to upset you, love—I promise I was only teasing," he pleaded with her, canting his head with his cool hands squeezing hers. 
Maybe it was a bit awful of her, but she couldn't help herself but to poke just a hair further to get what she wanted. 
"It's okay," she told him, though she played up the moment with her mouth in a pout, "Will you hang out with me now? Please?" 
"Of course, my love," he rushed out, standing to the full of his height with his hands still wrapped around hers, "Anything you want, we will do. I am at your disposal." 
Perhaps she hadn't thought her little plan through quite as well as needed, (Y/N) realized. She didn't even know what she wanted to do, only knowing that she wanted to erase her boredom and she wanted Harry to be there when she did. 
Rolling her lips between her teeth, she flitted her eyes away from his own intense gaze. "You pick." 
"Me?" Harry pressed, serious expression on his features. His hands around hers shifted until he had their fingers laced together, his thumb running along the outside of hers.
(Y/N) shrugged, almost wishing she had let him continue painting instead of this. "I didn't think this far ahead." 
His face softened into a gentle smile, his brows loosening with  his eyes almost glimmering as he gazed at her. "Okay," he sounded, "I will think of something, then. Your only job is to tell me if you think you would have fun."
A furrow touched his brows much to (Y/N)'s delight. He always looked especially cute when he was concentrating like this. 
"I can do that," she smiled at him, happy to have his attention after the long afternoon. 
It only took a beat before Harry was flicking his gaze to match hers. "What is something humans do when they cannot go outside? What kind of activities would y'play when you were unable to go out?" 
The question had (Y/N) thinking back to the days before Harry—before the rain and the clouds were their best friends. "Probably read or watch a movie or something," she answered, "I have too much energy, though—none of that sounds fun." 
It was Harry's turn to puff his lips into a pout, his gaze dropping to their joined hands and growing distant with his thoughts whirring. "Okay," he drawled, "Are there any games that sound fun to you, petal?" 
Sifting through her memories like a rolodex, (Y/N) pinged on something she hadn't thought about in years. "When I was a kid," she started, "Me and my sister would play stupid things like tag or hide and seek if we couldn't play outside. I was never very good at it, but I think it could be fun." 
The smile that bloomed on his face told her that he had it all figured out then. "Let us do that, petal. We can still play even if it's only the two of us, yes?" 
"Hide and seek?" (Y/N) clarified, unable to keep her own lips from stretching into a grin as she saw his own. 
"Yes!" he bubbled, entirely too giddy over a childhood game, "That would be fun, wouldn't it? You would not be bored while playing, right?" 
A peal of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips at his declaration, her energy bouncing off of his. "You're going to win every time, though. You'll always know where I am." 
"I swear I will not pay attention," he assured her, "No cheating, I promise." 
A bubbly smile drew (Y/N)'s features with soft curves. The manor was so big, this was the kind of place she would have killed to play such a game in when she was a kid. She just had to hope Harry wouldn't find her too easily when it was his turn. 
"Okay," (Y/N) sang, using her grip on his hands to lead him out of the studio, "But, you're hiding first."
"Now?" he blanched, looking taken aback as if he hadn't suggested this game himself. 
"Yes, now," (Y/N) laughed, pushing Harry out into the hallway with her ands untangling from his, "I'm going to start counting, and if you're not hiding, I still win if I catch you." 
(Y/N) didn't wait for a reaction, instead turning her back to him with her hands covering her eyes. She began counting loudly for him to hear. After a moment of lag, his footsteps finally began to retreat, disappearing in a blink by the time she had counted to fifteen. If not for her eyes already being closed, she would have rolled them; Harry was already using his abilities to his advantage despite just vowing not to cheat. She continued counting through her smile.
While (Y/N) couldn't remember the exact rule from her childhood, she was sure she didn't count for as long as she was supposed to. He didn't need that much time anyway, she decided. He'd probably already found a hiding space as soon as he disappeared. 
Entering into the hall and leaving the studio behind, she couldn't help that rush of adrenaline that always came with this kind of game. While she was technically the hunter in this scenario, she felt those nervous butterflies every time she peeked around a corner or peered into a dark room, anticipating the sight of Harry waiting for her. It didn't help that he could be completely silent when he wanted, leaving her with no warning of where he would spring up. 
Her search took her through much of the first floor before she grew antsy and trekked up the staircase towards his wing of the manor. While he didn't spend too much time in his bedroom any more after moving into her lighter chambers, it was still a space he knew better than anywhere else. 
Though much of the decor had shifted in the house, leaving behind some of the more grotesque paintings and ominous sculptures, this wing of the manor still contained those relics of the past. She had insisted that he keep his space as he had it, not wanting him to change everything just because she was now a part of his life. That left her padding down the dark hallway with the blank white eyes of the demonic cherubs following after her. Sobbing angels and puddles of blood littered the backgrounds of these scenes, taking (Y/N) back to the early days when she had first arrived at the manor. 
Curling her sweater sleeves over her hands against a phantom chill in the corridor, she peeked into the various rooms lining the hall. Her heart beat heavy in her ears every time she pulled open a door, expecting to see Harry's pale features shining through the dark. Her paced breathing and footsteps were the only other sounds to be heard in the silent passage. 
She saved his bedroom for last, this being the only room she was actually familiar with in the hall. Her stomach was flooded with butterflies as she twisted the knob, pushing open the door before crossing the threshold into the chilly room. Goosebumps pricked her skin as she stepped inside, not bothering to flick on the lights as if that would break the effect of the game—as if she wasn't starting to actually grow spooked. 
His room was still decked in velvet and silk, golden and black features streaming throughout. She could still clearly recall the night she had tucked herself under the heavy duvet, waiting out the monsters that had called to her outside. She remembered the way Harry had tried to soothe her in the night, when her sleep had grown restless. How that moment had felt like a dream only for it to be one of the first pages in their story.
Her breath caught in her throat when she swore she saw a shadow move behind the drawn curtains. 
Stepping on silent feet, she ventured further into his bedroom, hesitantly peeking around his wardrobe and even chancing a look inside. Each attempt was fruitless as she changed her direction towards the bathroom attached to the room. 
There was a static in the air, the kind that made her sure there was someone else sharing this space with her, but there was no Harry to be seen. The hinges of the bathroom door creaked just as she felt a set of hands land on her shoulder. 
"Found you." 
Harry's breath washed over the side of her neck, a shiver running down her spine at the same time she startled in her spot. Her heart skyrocketed to her throat, beating heavy behind her ribs and echoing in her ears.
Spinning to face him with her hand to her neck and mouth dropped in a gasp, she looked to him with accusing eyes. "You scared me! I'm supposed to be finding you!" 
"I'm sorry," he said through an amused smile that did nothing for his point, "You walked past me twice, petal. I couldn't wait any longer." 
Settling in her skin, (Y/N) was able to pout over her lost game. "I would have found you." 
"I am sure y'would have, my love, but now y'can relax. I could hear your heart beating like you were running a marathon." 
Sometimes she forgot just how in tune with her body he was; he knew everything, many of them she barely even noticed herself. Nothing was overlooked. 
"I was right to be scared," she countered, her skin warming as he dropped his hands from her shoulders to follow the length of her arms down to her hands, "You ended up scaring me just like I thought you would." 
"Darling," he drawled, ducking his head to be level with her gaze, "I really didn't mean to—I was hoping I would make you laugh, that's all." 
Collecting her into his arms, Harry hugged her against his chest in apology. As much as she wanted to believe him, (Y/N) could still feel that smile of his, complete with both dimples, as he tucked his face into the warmth of her neck. 
"It's okay, H," she murmured, nonetheless reciprocating his hug with her arms around his neck. He sunk into her hold, heavy and adoring as he relaxed. With her mouth by his ear, she whispered, "Your turn." 
With that, she pushed off of him, laughter spilling from her lips as she scuttled out of his bedroom. Heading towards the staircase at the end of the corridor, she turned around with a beaming smile just to see him looking after her like she thought he would. The sight made her grin that much larger. 
"Start counting—and no cheating!" 
All but sprinting through the manor, (Y/N) left him behind, finally working out that giddy energy she'd been holding onto through the afternoon. While she knew there was little chance that this was going to be a very fair game given the fact that he couldn't turn off his senses, she still wanted to have fun and see if she could confuse him and have even a minute chance at winning. 
In an attempt to play dirty, she ran around the manor, traipsing through the kitchen, her bedroom, the art studio, any door she could get through without wasting too much time to leave her scent any and everywhere. Her heartbeat and breathing were going to be her giveaways, but this could buy her time if Harry fell for it. 
By the time she knew she was closing in on the remainder of her time, she settled on hiding in the laundry room. The room had two entrances—one opening to what used to be considered a maid's quarters, and the other out into the hallway. Leaving the door to the hallway open in hopes of through him off, she tucked herself out of sight. She fixed her eyes on the slight crack in the open door with the maid's entrance to her back. 
The longer (Y/N) stayed tucked away, the more that familiar anticipation crept in. Though, instead of being the hunter, she was now the hunted, sitting like a duck as she waited to be caught. The worst part was how silent Harry would undoubtedly be—she wouldn't even know she had been found until he had his hands on her. 
Keeping her eyes fixed to the crack in the door, (Y/N) waited. It took everything to keep from wriggling and giving away her spot, despite the growing buzz in her stomach that urged her to run or use the restroom (the juvenile urge being one she only really felt while playing this game, she realized). He must be staying as true as he could to his vow of no cheating since he was taking his time to make it through the manor, his speed being left in his bedroom. 
Out of nowhere, there was a creak from a floorboard heard down the hallway. (Y/N) clamped her mouth shut, pacing her breathing as if that would help. At least she knew where he was now. 
Her gaze never strayed from where she could see just a sliver out into the hall, waiting to see the green knit of his sweater. The longer she waited, the harder her heart beat. There was no other creak or sound of movement telling her where he could have retreated. 
She rolled her lips between her teeth. Could she chance a shift in her spot, just to see I she could spot him elsewhere?
A breath too late, from the corner of her eye she saw a familiar green sweater and pale features. 
"Harry, no," she laughed right as he caught her with his hands landing on the soft curve of her waist, "You cheated!" 
Tugging her to his chest, Harry pulled her out of hiding and right to him. A wondrous light had settled in his eyes as he took in her laughter. "How did I cheat? I gave you plenty of time, petal." 
"You're not allowed to be so quiet," she argued, already pulling away from his embrace, "Go hide, it's my turn." 
Harry didn't let her get very far before he was pulling her back to his chest, dipping his head down and leveling his gaze with hers. "No, I won. I found you," he smiled, tipping his chin to press his lips to the soft of hers.
(Y/N) drew away first, keeping herself from getting distracted. Energy was still trickling through her system, she didn't want to stop now. "I know, so it's my turn again." 
Chasing after her, another kiss was planted over her mouth. He spoke against her lips, "No, I win. I get m'prize now." 
She laughed into his kiss, Harry swallowing the sound between his parted lips. "Your prize?" 
Pulling away just enough to match her gaze with his nose bushing hers, amusement sparkled in his eyes. "Are you not my winnings?" 
A spark bubbled under her skin, meeting with lingering butterflies that had her slipping out of his arms. He was always going to win in the end, but she was going to get in as many rounds as she could before then. 
"Fine," she relented, shooting him an excitable smile as she bounced on her feet, "but you have to catch me first." 
With that, she shot out of the laundry room, slipping out of his reach. A bright smile was on her lips as she pictured the look on she had undoubtedly left on his face. It wasn't until she had ran her way down the hall, reaching a corner that she peered over her shoulder. 
Harry had only followed her far enough to be peeking out into the corridor, a furrow to his brow and slight quirk to his lips.  "Where do you think you're going?"
"I don't know!" she giggled, skidding around the corner before popping her head around to peek at him once more, "And, no cheating!" 
She heard his laugh as she sped down the winding hall and towards the staircase. There was no clear destination in mind, just knowing that she wanted to make a little bit of trouble for him before she was caught. 
The fact that he hadn't reached her already told her that he had listened to her rules, but that didn't mean he was very far behind if the sound of his rapid footsteps was anything to go by. 
By the time she made it to the sitting room, murals of the heavens watching as she raced through, she could hear Harry's barely a heartbeat behind her. Daring to peek over her shoulder, she could see him descending the stairs, a furrow to his brow until he caught her looking. Then, he had a splitting grin on his face.
A giddy peal of laughter fell from her lips as she ran harder from him, feeling that adrenaline leak into her system knowing that he was right there. It would be so easy for him to use his supernatural traits and catch her before she took her next step, but he was letting her keep her little game up. He was enjoying the chase.
He followed her into the kitchen where she slid her socked feet across the floor, catching her balance before she could tumble to the floor. The close call had just that much more energy hitting her system.
"Be careful, petal," Harry scolded her, having just barely caught her near miss. 
"No," she laughed, knowing she sounded a bit like a petulant child before she was off again. She could hear his own huff of laughter from where she left him behind. 
It didn't take long before she felt the stretch of Harry's fingers graze the back of her sweater, the beats of his feet just behind her. She yelped at the touch, instinctively trying to throw him off by zagging towards the stairs once more. Before she could lead him up, he closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her away from the steps. 
"We are not going to run up the stairs like this, petal," he laughed, not even a little out of breath as he tucked her back to his chest. 
"You cheated at the end," she accused in a pant, laughing as she tilted her head back to look up at him.
His features were upside down from where she gazed down at her, smug smile on his lips. "Perhaps, but I still win." 
Before she could argue, he had her spun around in his arms. The world spun around her as Harry threw her over his shoulder, her hips settled on the cuff of his shoulder with her arms dangling down his back and legs kicking in front of him. His arm created a bar across the backs of her thighs, keeping her steady as she wriggled over him.
"I get to take you away now, petal," he declared, starting towards the stairs on much more steady feet this time, "No more running from me." 
"I thought you said we were going to play whatever I wanted today," she faux-whined, clinging to him as he reached the landing of the second level. 
"I think you'll like this break from your game, puppy," he answered simply. 
She was sure they both felt the change in the pace of her heart then. With that one word, she knew he was right. She was going to enjoy whatever game he wanted to put on now. 
Pushing into their bedroom, (Y/N) was unceremoniously plopped onto the bed, unmade bedding rustling around her. The mattress bounced under her back just as Harry settled followed, crawling to the middle of the bed to sit himself between her thighs. 
His weight had her sinking into the plush sheets with her thighs spread wide to accept his hips against her own. A heady bulge pressed against her core as he buried his face against her neck. The tip of his nose skimmed over the column of her throat, her skin breaking into goosebumps at the touch. She could feel the smile curling on his lips at her reaction.
Bringing her hands up to tangle through his hair, she hiked her thigh around the cuff of his hip. The chill of his lips held that much more of an effect on her when he pressed them o her heated throat. 
"What's gotten into you?" she asked, preening under the attention.
Harry's response came in between the smattering of kisses he gave to her neck, the scratch of his teeth sending a shiver down her spine. "I liked chasing you," he murmured against her skin, words melting into her pores, "Jus' wanted to catch you and take you away." 
(Y/N) felt breathless at his admission. That wasn't the intended effect she had been going for with her game, but she couldn't say she didn't like it.
"Take me away to do what?" she pressed, wanting nothing more than to have his voice wash over her with every minute detail that came to mind. 
"To fuck you, puppy," he answered simply, taking her breath away when he scraped his teeth against the well-bitten spot on her neck. "You know that."
Her reaction was enough to spur him on as he sucked a mark onto the hollow of her throat. Her fingers coiled in his curls, arching into him with her head tipping to the side to give him more skin to roam. Harry happily took advantage, teasing her with nips at the curve of her neck once he was satisfied with the faint mark he left behind on her skin.
"You want that too, puppy?" Harry murmured against her throat, the full of his lips pillowing over the goosebumps on her skin, "Want me to fuck you?" 
She didn't even think before she was nodding as best she could with her cheek pressed to the mattress, her mouth dropped in a breathless gasp. Harry's smug smile could be felt against her neck before he drew back, matching her eyes with his own intense gaze.
"Say it." 
Her heart hammered against her rib cage, her thighs squeezing around his hips. How her stupid game of hide and seek led to this, she wasn't sure, but she was willing to do it again every day if this was the kind of effect it had on Harry. 
When she didn't immediately answer him, Harry pulled one of his hands up and lightly tapped on her warm cheek with his three middle fingers. 
"C'mon, puppy. I wanna hear y'say it." 
Though it was far from the filthiest thing she's said for him or he's said to her, she still felt her skin warm and throat bob as she followed his instruction. 
"I want you to fuck me, Harry." 
His eyes fell to her lips, watching her mouth form the words and her breathless voice carry them out. There was a note of pride in his gaze as he took in her obedience. 
"I can do that for you, petal." 
Ducking his head down, he smeared his lips against hers, tongue slipping inside her mouth and sampling a taste of her own. (Y/N) raked her fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp as she leant into every bit of affection he offered. She locked her thighs around his hips, every sweep of his tongue causing a pulse of the muscles. 
Wordlessly, he slipped his arms around her cradling her to him just before he rolled them over in the tufts of their bedding. In a breath, without having separated from their kiss, he had placed himself underneath her form. (Y/N) sat in his lap, knees bracketing his hips with Harry's legs bent at the knee behind her to keep her steady in her place. Once she caught up with her body, she startled, instinctively reaching to place her palms on his shoulders as she drew away from his mouth with her kiss-swollen lips in a gape. 
Harry's pupils were blown wide as he looked up at her, his bottom lip fit snugly between his teeth. "Haven't had you on top in a while, huh, puppy?" 
Despite talking as if he expected an answer from her, Harry rocked his hips underneath hers, effectively robbing any chance of speech. (Y/N) could only shake her head—it really had been a while since she'd been the one above. 
Pleased with her eager breathlessness, Harry dropped his hand to fit the curve of her waist, a slight flex of his fingers pushing dents into the soft skin. "Show me how you're going to ride me, petal. I want to see you to work for my cock." 
He spoke with no reservations, commanding with all the affection in the world embedded in his tone. There was no way she could say no to that. She wanted to give him everything just as much as he did for her.
Digging her fingertips into the broad of his shoulders, she steadied herself with her knees on either side of him. His legs behind her were the easiest way to keep herself steady as she started rocking herself on his lap, using his thighs to lean against with every roll of her hips.. The bulge of his cock pressed headily against her core with each brush, her stomach tightening along with her breathless lungs. 
"Y'can do better than that, darling," he taunted, his voice playfully mocking, "I know you don't expect me to be gentle today, right? Not after y'made me chase you around just to get you all pretty in my lap. Gonna take more than this to get my cock in you." 
Taking advantage of his grip on her waist, Harry took over, bouncing her on his lap as if to show what he was looking for from her. The rhythm of her grinding was dismissed as he pumped her over his cock, his thighs spreading at her back as her ass dropped into his lap over and over, his cock pressing directly against her clit through the fabric of her pants. Small moans managed to escape from (Y/N)'s throat even with the squeeze of her lungs. 
"This is better, right, puppy?" 
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she breathed, her eyes fluttering to a close. It was better than her grinding, but nowhere near as satisfying as stuffing his cock inside. "More, pl-please." 
His lips curled her words. "Y'think you're ready to do this on m'cock? Even if I don't help you?" 
The nod of her head was automatic, no extra thought given to whatever parameters he gave her. She could make anything work as long as she got out of her clothes and had her pussy full of him.
Harry stopped bouncing her then, his hands stilling as he kept her from moving herself. (Y/N) wanted to whine, to complain that he had stopped her just as he shushed her with a kiss, leaning up to meet her lips. 
"Do not pout, puppy. Can't fuck y'through my clothes, can I? At least not the way y'like." 
With that, (Y/N) didn't hesitate to climb off his lap and rid herself of her clothes. Her sweater and pants became a messy pile on the floor with her panties soon following. She heard a soft laugh sound from behind her when she flung her bra onto the floor in her haste. Despite the chill glancing over her skin, (Y/N) didn't wait before crawling back into Harry's just-as-cold embrace. 
He welcomed her back into his lap readily, his cock hard between his thighs. She felt her own core tighten at the sight of his blocked muscles, the creamy pallor of his skin making his tattoos look that much darker. His gaze was its own aphrodisiac as he pinned his eyes to her form kneeling over his lap, drinking her in just as much as she did him. 
"So gorgeous, darling," he told her, his voice a gentle coo compared to the hard lines of his body, "If I could dream at all, it would be of you. You know that, right?" 
"I dream of you, every night," she told him sweetly as if she wasn't inches above his hardened cock, her center slick and waiting for him. 
"Good dreams?" he asked, just as he always did with a dimpled smile on his lips. 
"The best," she declared, fitting her hands on his shoulders with her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. 
"Give me a kiss, puppy," he crooned, tipping his chin just right to give her access to his lips. 
Pressing her mouth to his, Harry took the lead with his hands cupping the full of her hips. He welcomed the warmth of her kiss, swiping his tongue over hers with the slick parting sounds of their lips filling the quiet bedroom. 
"Ready to take me, puppy?" Harry breathed against her lips, unwilling to pull too far away. 
"Please," was (Y/N)'s cooed response before melding her lips to his once more. 
Using his hold on her hips, Harry eased (Y/N) onto his cock. He fit the tip inside her wet center, swallowing the gasp she let out against his mouth. Her hands on his shoulders were tight as he helped her sink down his length. Her toes curled on either side of his form, her thighs clenching the further inside he pushed. Harry took his time, leaving (Y/N) to feel every inch of him with every spread of her walls to let him in. 
Once he bottomed out, the trimmed thatch of hair at his base pressing to her clit and his balls patting her ass, (Y/N) felt her insides pulse around him, her stomach tight in her middle. Harry's hands on her sides tightened, denting the soft flesh with his fingertips. 
"Feel good, puppy?" he murmured with a strain, pausing as he let her adjust to him, "Full?" 
"Uh-huh," she mindlessly answered, swearing she could feel him jump against her walls, "So full." 
A moan bubbled up from his chest, low and rumbling. He trailed his lips from her mouth to the soft apple of her cheek, basking in her warmth as he reflected it back. His lips were a cool point of clarity against her skin, his nose skimming the height of her cheekbone. He planted his line of kisses until he landed at the space just before her ear. 
"Ready for me to fuck you, puppy? Jus' like I promised?" he murmured into her ear, gently shifting his hips under hers as if to remind her he was still there. 
The only response he seemed to need was the soft coo of his name that fell from her mouth, soft and wanting. As if there were any world that existed where she denied his offer. 
Harry began to bounce her on his lap, his hands tight on her hips as her mouth dropped into a wordless gape. The thrusts he helped her make were short and shallow, lifting her only halfway off his cock before she was slammed down once more, her clit nudging his base with his tip hitting far walls she decided only existed for him. Her breathing came out in soft huffs every time her hips settled against his in soft slaps. 
He attempted to smatter more kisses against her cheek, but was stopped short in his own pleasure. She could feel the soft gape of his lips against her skin, the length of his lashes grazing her cheek as he clamped them shut while falling into the feel of her. 
Despite his early threat of leaving her to do the work all by herself, she barely had to do anything more than take it as he rocked his hips to meet the thrusts he was curating with her in his lap. She could feel her breasts moving with every thrust, peaks hardened as she attempted to draw herself closer to his chest and feel more of his chilled skin against her. 
"Harry, I—" she choked out, her voice dying in her throat as she threw her head back after a particularly harsh thrust of his hips against hers. 
"I know, petal, I know," he murmured, gaining some of his composure as he dropped his mouth to her throat. It was there that he could feel the thrum of her pulse, just under the soft skin he was accustomed to sinking his teeth into and leaving bruised and delicate in his wake. "I've got you, puppy. Gonna make me cum, you know that?" 
Her thighs clenched at the thought of him cumming inside her, feeling that warmth leak through her system. Her nails dug deeper into his shoulders, drawing him that much closer to her. 
"You want that? Want me to cum inside you? Make you mine again?" 
He asked these things as if she could answer—as if she had half the mind to say anything other than a pathetic moan or a clench of her hands over his body. Of course she wanted that; of course she wanted to feel him cum inside her and stake his claim. She wanted anything he was willing to give. 
"Tell me, puppy," Harry commanded, his gentle tone forgone for the moment as his grip on her hips harshened, "Not gonna let you cum with me if y'don't talk to me." 
"I want that, I want that," she rushed out, unwilling to test his threat, "Want you to cum in me, H. Please." 
"Good girl, pup. Always doing what I say, " he murmured, quietly praising her as if she couldn't hear him. "So, so, so good. Gonna make me cum so hard—shit." 
One of his hands slipped from her hip, fitting between their bodies before he pressed his fingers to the bud of her clit. The first touch of his cold fingertips took her breath, stunting her lungs with her mouth dropping open in a soundless moan. Harry continued his relentless thrusting, the rhythm deep and consistent, adding to the twisting feeling of her clit being circled. Despite Harry being the one that had wanted this, dragging her to their bedroom in the first place, she doubted he would be the first to finish under these circumstances.
Tracing one of her hands up from the shelf of his shoulder, she laced her fingers through the curls on her back of his head. It took all her attention to keep herself from growing distracted once she curled her fingers through the waves in a firm grip. Tipping her head to the side, she urged him to the soft skin of her throat. 
"H-Harry, please," she begged, hoping he would understand what she wanted without having to waste the time to spell it out. 
A heavy moan fell from his lips when he saw what she was directing him towards. His cock jumped in her pussy, his tip pressing headily against the ridges of her walls, his hips directing a particularly harsh thrust against hers, splitting her open that much more.
"Y'want me to bite you, darling? Fuck, you're so sexy, puppy." 
She didn't need to do anything more than pathetically breathe out a small uh-huh before she felt that faint scratch of his teeth over the delicate skin. A shudder traveled down her spine, the rhythm of Harry's thrusting not even skipping a beat. 
"Hold onto me, puppy," Harry murmured just a breath before she felt the slice of his teeth sinking into her skin. 
For the first time since pushing inside her, the rocking of his hips stuttered in their curated pace. Bottomed out, he rolled his hips into her with her clit still being prodded by his fingertips. The initial sting of his teeth lasted barely a heartbeat for (Y/N) before she was flooded with the euphoria Harry was already experiencing. Whatever it was that made his bite so dizzying was doing its job by melting her into his hold, turning her completely pliant and ready to be any and everything he wanted. The soft press of his lips around the bite was the cut of clarity she needed in that moment, otherwise she would have been lost in the sound of his low moan and the all encompassing hold he had on her. 
(Y/N)'s head was elsewhere, focusing only on him as she felt her stomach tighten with every pull of blood he took from her. Unsure of where the strength came from, she managed to whimper in a breathless voice, "I'm-I'm gonna cum, Harry." 
His response came in the form of a rumbling groan, his remaining hand on her hip snaking around to curl around her middle. She could feel the strength of his touch, complimented by a harsh thrust against her swollen pussy. His touch on her clit quickened, making her cry out once more in a shapeless moan. 
It was all too much, bringing a layer of tears to her closed eyes just before everything came to a head. The twist in her stomach tightened until it unraveled into a shredded ribbon. Her walls pulsed around his cock, her wetness gushing around him with slick noises sounding from where he sunk into her. When those first waves hit, her nails digging into his shoulder with her head thrown back, she felt Harry unlatch from her neck just as his own high hit. 
"Oh—fuck—puppy," he groaned, his movements lagging as soon as she felt the first wave of his cum hit inside her.
He dropped his forehead to rest on the shelf of her collarbone, his hips rocking against hers as best as he could manage the more he sunk into the pleasure of her taste in his mouth and her pussy around his cock. Her walls shuddered around him, her thighs closing in on his hips as her body clung to him. Every rope warmed her compared to his icy touch, prolonging her pleasure that much longer until she could feel him slowing down.
Coming down to earth in slow beats, Harry wrapped his arms around her, leaving (Y/N) to melt into his hold. Her eyes were shuttered closed, her heart beating hard against her ribcage. Looping her own arms around his neck, she buried her face in the mussed curls on the top of his head. Her breathing came in pants as the world reluctantly came into focus around her. 
Harry seemed to recover first, stirring in her arms until he was pressing his lips against her collarbones and dragging them across her décolletage. He painted a delicate trail, never fully lifting his mouth from her skin as he moved up towards her throat. Pausing over the spot he had bitten from, he swiping his tongue carefully over the small wound he'd made, taking care to clean up the small mess he'd left behind and sealing her bite before he made his way towards her jaw. He skimmed over the soft line, his nose glancing off her skin just as carefully. Tipping her head up, (Y/N) met him halfway, tenderly placing her lips against his. 
He was always terribly careful when kissing her after having bitten from her, never wanting to give her a taste of anything too human on his tongue. He allowed only a small press before he was pulling away and puckering against the corner of her mouth to the apple of her cheek and the tip of her nose. 
"Are y'alright, petal?" he murmured against her skin, shuffling until he was laying flat on his back with her atop him. The shifting had his softening cock brushing against her sensitive walls, a small shudder skating down the knobs of her spine. 
"I'm okay," she breathed, blinking her eyes open to see his own still shuttered—and they would stay that way until he was certain there was no more bloody red sclera for her to see. "Are you?"
His features softened into a warm smile, matching the slight flush that had been freshly added to his cheeks. "I am more than well, darling. Thank you for asking." 
A plume of laughter fell from her lips as she settled against him. She knew she should probably get up and dress in something warm enough to cuddle with him, clean herself up before completely relaxing, but she couldn't find the motivation to move off of him. He was far too comfortable, his hold too rewarding to give up in favor of putting on a shirt before she was shivering in his hold.
Harry seemed to have other ideas as he shifted under her. "Let's clean you up, petal. Then, I can put you to sleep while I make dinner, yes?" 
"No," she countered with a whine, clinging to him before he could move them from the haven of their bed, "Not yet."
She felt his laugh more than she heard it from where she laid against his chest. He tightened his hold around her as he dropped a smiling kiss to the crown of her head. "Not even if I come with you?" he bribed, hoping to coax her with the soft inflection on his voice and careful touch as he tightened his hold around her, "We can even nap afterwards, if you'd like. You'll feel better after changing, my love."
"You'll go with me?" she repeated, her voice decidedly smaller as she spoke against his skin. It didn't sound so bad if he cleaned up with her (that usually meant he did all the work anyway, picking out her clothes and washing her hair without her lifting a finger).
"Mhm," he hummed, collecting her against his chest as he started to shift on the mattress, moving stand with her still clinging to his form. "Can't leave my petal all alone after a game like that, can I?" 
(Y/N) could only shake her head, playing along with him as he carried her into the bathroom. 
She definitely liked his games a lot more than her own. 
—————
first vamp h blurb in a while esp a fun one so I hope everyone likes it! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if yu have any ideas you wnat too share please send them in!
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hanjisick · 1 year
Text
— COOKIES
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order #6 of the coffee shop series: a cookie
ingredients. y/n x barista!felix. he’s never had a gf before. hopeless pining on felix’s end. mostly fluff with some angst. also the boys keep trying to play shitty wingmen again.
allergies. making out and felix being awkward
size. 3.2k
special add ons. felix is a sociable, confident, kind barista at yellow wood café. but once you show up on one rainy day, you turn him into a mess.
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you hadn’t prepared for the rain to come so quickly.
the forecast had said that it would only pick up in the afternoon, and you figured that you would be home by then. so of course, you had left your umbrella at home.
you decided to run into the nearest building, hoping to stay there until the rain had died down a little.
it was a coffee shop, one that you hadn’t been to before. you had no clue how you didn’t know the place existed. it seemed like just your type of hang-out spot.
the difference between the café and outside was stark. looking through the windows, it was gloomy and intense, while inside, the atmosphere was warm and cozy. the smell of coffee brewing and people chatting filled your senses.
“can i help you?” you had been staring off for a minute now, your entire body drenched in rain.
“sorry,” you apologized, “i was just looking for somewhere to be until the rain stopped.”
“you’re alright! could i get anything for you while you wait?”
your eyes stared the barista up and down. he was around your age— and was the epitome of sunshine. his features were gentle and strikingly beautiful.
his name tag read “felix.”
then, you drifted towards the menu on the counter, written in chalk, slightly smudged.
“are the cookies any good?” you questioned, staring at the cute plastic containers full of baked goods, specifically the heart-shaped chocolate chip cookies.
“well, i baked them myself, so they better be good.” felix’s shy smile told you that he was proud of his baking.
“i’ll buy one and see for myself.”
usually, the freckled barista wasn’t nervous at comments like these, but your gentle eyes made his heart flip in ways that he didn’t quite understand. “will that be all?”
“for now.”
he rang you up, handing you the cookies straight out of the container.
without waiting to sit down, you bit into the cookie.
two of felix’s fingers met his neck, checking his pulse quickly— a nervous habit of his.
but his nerves turned into excitement as your eyes lit up.
“i’ll take two more cookies and a mocha, please!”
felix couldn’t help but smile widely, “our muffins are really good too. we have blueberry and chocolate chip right now, but i’m working on a recipe for a cappuccino muffin.”
you cut his ramble short, “i’ll try both. and a brownie.”
“got a sweet tooth?” he rolled up the sleeves of his baby blue cardigan to begin making your mocha, “i don’t want you to get any cavities.”
“i’ll have just one bite of each and bring it home with me,” you reasoned, taking a stool at the bar, “i have nothing better to do, anyway. the rain says it’ll last for another hour.”
“so you’re gonna spend that hour taste-testing the treats?”
“i’ve never been here before, i better start working on my regular order.”
“will you be a new regular?”
“if the mocha is good. otherwise i think i’ll just go back out into the rain, i’m already drenched anyway.”
there you go again. causing felix to worry about how good his barista skills were in a way that nobody does.
he couldn’t help but drizzle a chocolate heart on top before handing it to you.
immediately felix jumped back. “your hands are freezing!”
“that’s what happens when you’re in the rain.”
you couldn’t help but chuckle at felix’s concern. it wasn’t bad at all.
“i think this goes against every rule we have here,” felix shrugged off his cardigan, throwing it across the counter.
immediately your quiet laugh died down, your stomach twisting with butterflies. mostly at how kind the freckled boy was, but you couldn’t ignore the way that the white shirt under it clung to him tighter.
“thank you.” you wrapped yourself in the cardigan, breathing in a faint scent of a fruity perfume, almost masked by the overwhelming smell of coffee.
“felix,” chan, his boss, nudged him with a grin, “did you just do what i think you did?”
if it were any other barista, they would’ve been scolded. but felix had taken up a large spot in chan’s heart, one that meant that he refused to rebuke the boy.
“she was cold! right, y/n?” he defended, “she just came in from the rain outside.”
“so you’re just gonna give every customer your clothes if they’re cold?”
you could see a faint red tint forming on felix’s ears, “well no! but she’s new, i wanted to give her a warm welcome.”
there was a familiar look in chan’s eyes, one that felix could spot from miles away. one of knowing.
“alright then. i’m glad you were able to earn us a new customer. even if it meant giving up your clothes.”
“do you have any paper?” you interrupted with a mouthful of muffin, “and maybe a pen too?”
felix was thankful that you saved him from chan. “yeah! i’ll get it for you. hold on.”
thirty minutes later, once a spot of sunlight through the clouds had appeared, you were gone.
felix glanced over at your spot, sadness pulling on his heart, full of what if’s.
what if you didn’t come back? what if that was the last time he would see you?
he noticed the piece of paper left behind.
the title read, “felix’s bakery ranking.”
first place was the cookies. second was the brownies. then the chocolate chip muffin, then the blueberry.
“she must love chocolate,” felix jumped at jeongin’s voice from behind him, “she also got a mocha, right?”
“how do you know? you weren’t even here.”
“chan was telling the group chat.”
“he was doing what?” felix reached for the phone in his back pocket to confirm his words.
“talking about how you were mesmerized by that girl.”
“was not!”
“you totally were,” chan patted his back, “i’ve never seen you smile that wide.”
“says a lot for how much he smiles.”
felix groaned as jeongin flipped over the scrap paper.
“see you at 3 tomorrow,” he read out, looking up at felix whose eyes widened, turning to chan.
“i don’t work tomorrow! can i work tomorrow?”
“so it isn’t just you being kind?”
“i need to get my cardigan back.”
“you’re a terrible liar. just admit that you want to see her again.”
“just schedule me to work tomorrow!”
the next day, felix was walking on clouds.
the boy normally walked with a pep in his step, serving customers with a comfortable kindness that nobody else could replicate, but today there was an extra hint of sweetness to everything that he did. even some of the most unobservant customers had pointed it out.
but each of the boys knew exactly why he was acting the way that he was, thanks to the messages that chan had sent.
as the vintage clock on the wall inched closer and closer to 3, felix became more dazed, clumsy even.
“are you sure that he should be working right now?” minho shot chan a questioning look.
“just let him get it out of his system.”
“but we’re cleaning up his spill messes all for a girl that he had one conversation with. he’s hopeless.”
“i don’t even think he’s had a girlfriend before.”
“really?” minho’s eyebrows raised, “with how all of the girls stick to him like glue?”
“i don’t think he knows how much of a heartthrob he is.”
chan glanced towards felix, who was busy chatting with two girls who had stopped by just a few minutes ago, “he’s clueless sometimes.”
the bell on the door rang as you stepped in, blue sweater in hand, eyes darting across the room to find the blonde boy who immediately abandoned his conversation.
“i came to return this,” you slid it across the counter, just as felix had done the previous day, “and get a cookie as well.”
“just the cookie?”
“and a mocha.”
“your total will be—“
“just give it to her for free,” chan whispered from behind, trying to help the frantic boy.
“it’ll be free today,” felix stumbled on his words, “and maybe i could heat the cookies for you too? they’re better warm.”
“that would be great,” you took a seat at the same spot as before, “your customer service is top tier. free service and a cardigan on a rainy day?”
“we try.” felix couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face, or take his eyes off of you.
even when you weren’t paying attention to him, typing on your laptop and munching on a cookie, he would stare at you, just barely hiding behind the espresso machine.
“why don’t you ask for her number?”
felix jumped as yet another barista appeared from behind him— something that had been happening too much recently. or perhaps he was just less focused on his surroundings.
“i can’t do that. what if she rejects me?”
“she would’ve let you down by now, do you know how obvious you’re making it?” hyunjin tried to reason with him.
“i guess that’s true, but i’m nervous. she’s really pretty.”
“so? you’re pretty too.”
felix gave the compliment a light laugh, “but she’s intimidatingly pretty.”
he kept an eye on the way your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, your finger tapping to the rhythm of the café’s record player on the table.
“you’re such a hopeless romantic. just get her number. she’s gonna leave again and you’re gonna be upset that you didn’t.”
“maybe.”
with those words in mind, felix shyly approached you, hands fumbling with the hem of his shirt.
“hey,” he started, almost chickening out just from your eye contact.
his fingers went to his throat, checking his pulse, “do you think i could get your number?”
when you stared at him in silent shock for a moment, he continued, “not as, like, a weird thing! i just want to be your friend.”
he could see hyunjin out of the corner of his eye, ready to pull out his hair in frustration.
your smile faltered, but you still took the phone from his hand, saving your name as y/n.
“text me later.” there was a hint of sadness in your voice that felix didn’t fail to pick up on, but he didn’t dare to comment on it.
he ran off into the back room, ready to scream over the most embarrassing, disappointing moment in his entire life.
hyunjin followed close behind, “felix! what the hell?”
“i got nervous!”
“so you decided to friend-zone her?”
“she could’ve friend zoned me first!”
“she obviously wasn’t going to!”
“but if she did then i think i’d die!”
hyunjin was close to slamming his head against the nearest wall. “i’m gonna die right now if you don’t walk back out there and tell her that you’ve spent the whole day thinking about how pretty she is!”
“she’ll think i’m weird!”
“then i’ll do it!” felix tried to hold him back but failed as hyunjin opened the door, only to be met with an empty spot where you used to be.
felix let go, his shoulders dropping.
“where is she?”
“i guess she left,” hyunjin turned to see his devastated friend.
“did i fuck up that badly?”
hyunjin bit his lip, trying not to make it worse for him than it already was. but the truth was that, yeah, he did.
“maybe she’ll be back.”
felix texted you that night while he sat in bed, deciding on, “hi it’s felix! :)”
he kept his cardigan next to him.
perhaps it was a little creepy, but he decided to sniff it. it smelled different than usual. perhaps that’s what you smelled like.
perhaps he would never even get to know what you smelled like.
tears brimmed his eyes as he shut off his phone, staring up at the fan on his ceiling, letting the noise drown out the eerie silence.
felix wanted to slap himself for being such an idiot. he had no problem talking to people, he was the most extroverted extrovert that an extrovert could get. but he couldn’t help but question everything he did in front of you, even if he had just met you.
you didn’t respond.
when felix showed up to work the next day, it was like the sunshine was hidden behind a rainy cloud.
he knew that it shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did. he knew that checking to see if he got a text every minute wasn’t normal, or whip his head toward the door every time a customer came in.
so felix spent another night in his bed, phone in hand, staring at the text that he sent.
would it just be easier to forget about you? it’s not like he had anything going with you anyway.
it was only when he set it down for the night and closed his eyes that it began to ring, and he sprang right back up, eyes widening as he stared at the caller ID.
it was minho.
“hello?” felix answered, voice filled with sleep.
“you were upset at work today,” he stated, “is it because of that girl?”
“you could see it?”
“everyone could. like we always do.”
“i’m just gonna try to forget about it.”
“don’t.”
“what do you mean?”
“you have her number, right? come clean, text her that you were nervous. ask to meet up.”
“like a date?”
“exactly. ask her on a date.”
felix chewed on his lip, anxiety clouding his judgment once again. would he have the courage to even do that?
“chan said that you’re not allowed to work until you sort out your sadness. and nobody wants to cover your shifts, man.”
when minho hung up the phone, felix laid back against his pillows, letting out a breath of air that he didn’t know he was holding. then he checked his pulse.
opening your texts, he began typing. ‘i lied. it was something weird. you’re really pretty. you can block me if you want.’
he deleted the message.
‘actually,’
no.
‘i meant to ask for your number in a not-friend-way,’
no.
‘sorry for the other day. i was anxious and said the wrong thing, but i really wanted your number because i think you’re gorgeous. do you want to go out sometime?’
he sent the message and resisted the urge to chuck his phone across the room. instead, he threw it back down onto the bed, grabbing the nearest pillow and squeezing it as hard as he could.
minutes later, felix heard his phone buzz. he scrambled to pick it up.
‘that’s ok. i was a little disappointed, you’re rly cute :)’
it buzzed again.
‘wanna come over tomorrow and watch a movie or something?’
his fingers shook, trying to type back, ‘sounds great! does 5 work?’
you reacted to his text with a thumbs up, and then he was back to squeezing the pillow.
felix didn’t work the next day. instead, he spent the day showering, squealing, spam-texting friends, and preparing for his first-ever date.
when you opened the doorbell, you were met with quite possibly the cutest sight in the entire world.
there felix was, holding a box of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies in his shaky hands. “i baked these for you, kind of as an apology, kind of because i wanted to impress you. and i know you like the cookies.”
you giggled at his honesty, letting him inside as you took the box, “thank you felix, you’re such a sweetheart.”
he checked his pulse.
“sorry for the mess. i tried to clean a little, but i don’t have people over often.”
“it’s okay,” he was quick to reassure you, “my house doesn’t look all that clean either. kind of comes with being a human.”
you laughed, taking a seat on the couch. he followed your actions.
“so, about the whole number thing,” he toyed with the rip on his black jeans.
“i thought you were really really beautiful.”
suddenly, he was way too aware of how close you were to him. but he wouldn’t let himself get nervous again.
“one of my coworkers was telling me to ask for your number and i was nervous and thought that you wouldn’t like me like that.”
felix sighed, “so i ended up saying the wrong thing and giving you the wrong idea.”
when he looked back up, you were smiling, holding in laughter. “that’s honestly adorable.”
“really?”
“i got sad, i thought you were just that kind to everyone and that i was developing some crazy ego thinking that a boy as attractive as you would like me.”
“you think i’m attractive?” his ears were on fire by now, completely stiff as you leaned in to look him in the eyes.
“i don’t understand how you don’t know how attractive you are.”
“what do you mean?”
“do i have to spell it out for you?”
“probably.”
“i think you’re gorgeous.”
“i also think the same about you. you looked so cute eating all happily, and when you smile, it makes me want to kiss you.” he chewed his lip, trying to not regret his bold words.
something tense was in the air, something that made felix’s heart pound a thousand times faster.
“then do it.”
felix froze. was he supposed to tell you that he had never kissed a girl before, much less sat this close to one?
“well, are you going to? or are you getting shy again?”
“i’ve never kissed anyone.” he let his heart thud out of his chest at the confession.
your eyes visibly widened, “you? you haven’t had your first kiss?”
“or held hands with a girl. and i’ve never had a girlfriend.”
“that’s impossible.”
“i don’t know how to prove it.”
“your awkwardness does the job.”
you decided to make a move, “but i can show you how if you’d like.”
felix’s mouth went dry, unsure of what to do or say.
“it’ll come naturally. just let it happen,” you smiled reassuringly as he nodded.
climbing onto his open lap, your hands carded through his blonde hair.
you leaned in to meet his lips briefly, his eyes burning into your own.
it was a soft and gentle kiss, just like him. but his eyes were full of desire for more.
“can i have another?” his hands met your back, pulling you into him.
this time, the kiss lasted longer, so much longer that he began craving more of you, so he did what he saw in all the movies.
he slipped his tongue into your mouth, grinning against your lips in pride at his actions.
felix’s hands traveled to your waist as took your word, letting go of his anxieties and doing what came naturally.
and without even realizing it, he began to take the lead.
all of the feelings were overwhelming. the way that you tugged on his hair, how close your bodies were, the way your tongue felt against his own.
he never wanted to stop.
until his phone began ringing.
you pulled away and he let out a shaky breath, slowly opening his eyes to stare at your features up close.
“felix, your phone,” you reminded him.
he jolted out of the daze, reaching for it.
chan.
he was about to just cancel the call when he saw the spam texts, asking where he was.
with a heavy sigh, he answered with you still on his lap.
“did you make up with y/n?”
“be quiet! i’m with her right now!”
you let out a laugh.
“oh! tell her hi!”
felix hung up on his friend with a groan, turning the ringer off.
“can we go back to kissing again?”
“after he’s done blowing you up,” you pointed at the buzzing phone.
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skz317cb97 · 1 year
Note
Okay I read something like this for another fandom and it was actually soo good.
I was wondering if you'd write something with Bang Chan/Chris in mind if you're taking any fic requests :)
In a world where upon their first touch, soulmates (Bang Chan/Chris x female reader) are overcome with a sudden and overwhelming need to fuck each other
Please and thanks if you can
Office Space
Bang Chan × Female reader
Word count: 1.8K
Synopsis: You live in a world where one touch of your soulmate will ignite a pathological urge to consummate your bond. What happens when you bump into the cute guy from the office and it appears as though you've found your match?
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A/N: 18+ ONLY! I hope this is to your liking! I had fun writing it! Such a great idea! Than you so much for sending it in! If you all like this one give it a reblog, like, comment, hit up my ask box, whatever! As always warnings and smut below the cut!
Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, semi public sex in a locked office no one knows), unprotected sex (please use condoms), cream pie. I think that's it not anything too crazy but if I missed something please let me know and I'll add it asap!
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The same thing happened to everyone. Once you turned twenty-one, if you came into physical contact with your soulmate your body had an overwhelming primal desire to claim each other physically. Fuck. It was a big talking point when you start going through sex ed in junior high. You heard the same thing you always did with anything else that had to do with sexual education. ‘It’s perfectly normal’ or ‘It happens to everyone’.  
No matter how true that was, it didn’t make the topic any less uncomfortable to talk about for some people, you being one of those people. You avoided anything that had to do with soulmates but when you turned twenty-one you went to a psychic with some friends and the lady who read your fortune said that your soulmate’s name would be Chris and his last name had something to do with a gun or fireworks, an explosion maybe, she wasn’t sure and you weren’t buying any of it.  
By the time you were twenty-five a few of your friends had already found their soulmates. You didn’t have time for that nonsense. Your career was your soulmate. You were the lead of your department’s team and it was no easy feat getting to that position.  There were eight other teams all the leads for those departments were men.
Most but not all of them you had met in passing regularly. There was one that you had never even been introduced to but you heard people calling him Chan. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was gorgeous. Strong nose, kind eyes, pouty lips, shoulders for days, and well, he definitely had a good tailor because his ass... You had to stop thinking like that, you didn’t know the man. You didn’t know his last name, you had never even heard his voice.  
Well, that was about to change really soon. Today when you got to work the head of your branch was pulling all team leads in for a meeting so you and the eight other men, including Chan, had to meet in meeting room three immediately after lunch. Around one thirty all nine of you promptly met your boss.
There were eight other people there and you were trying not to be distracted by one person in general. It was difficult, you didn’t know why. You were able to keep up with the meeting but about halfway into your boss's third bullet point you were getting warm and took off your sweater. The dress you wore was sleeveless, you were hoping you could cool off. You were trying not to look at him but your eyes found him anyway as you shrugged your cardigan off. When you did you found his eyes already on you, something in them.  
“Chan?” Your boss had called him twice now and he snapped out of it and realized you noticed him staring, he quickly looked away. You could see his ears turning red. 
“Yes sir?” Your boss asked Chan to present what his team had been working on this quarter, asked a few questions about Chan’s team, and where he’d like to see things go in the next quarter. Chan had an answer for everything and it came out as smooth as butter with his thick Australian accent, which you had not been expecting.
When Chan was done the boss called on you to do the same thing. You stood and started walking forward as Chan was headed back to his seat. The walkway was narrow, you went to step around each other but stepped in the same direction, you both kind of nervously laughed and then stepped in the same direction again. 
“Sorry,” His slender fingers gently gripped your shoulder and he stepped behind you. His cologne was intoxicating and it was like one touch set your whole body on fire. When he passed you and headed to his seat you looked behind you for a second but he was already pulling out his chair. You tried to ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach and focused on your presentation.
One by one all of the guys had to go up and do the same thing. It drug on forever if felt like. The throbbing between your legs was unbearable, you didn’t think you could press your thighs together any harder. Chan just seemed to be intently listening to whichever one of the guys was presenting, seemingly unbothered. Finally your boss dismissed you all you were thanking the stars you could finally get out of there and away from Chan before you made a fool of yourself. Just before you could make your haste, exit Chan called your name. 
“Oh excuse me, y/n? Would you mind coming to my office and running over a couple things about your team that I think I’d like to implement with mine?” You almost choked. 
“Y-your office?” He nodded; he was acting perfectly normal. You’d thought, well... you’d thought maybe he was your soulmate with the way you were feeling but apparently, you're just a horny perv that thinks about fucking their co-workers. 
“If you’re busy...” You didn’t want to seem impolite or like you weren’t a team player, he was really giving you a huge compliment by asking for such a thing. You just needed to get a hold of yourself. 
“No! Uhehm, no I’m not busy... I’d be happy to go over whatever you’d like.” That sounded like more than it should have you felt like but he still seemed totally nonchalant. He bowed and then led the way, you following the trail of whatever cologne he was wearing. Chan opened the door and let you in first.
You walked into his office nervous, hoping you could keep control of yourself because you had never felt so out of control in your life. As soon as you were in his office Chan came in too, then shut and locked the door. You turned to him and he walked up on you quickly. Your heart started racing, his hands gently cradled your face, his now a breath away from yours. 
“God please tell me you feel this too.” You were so relieved, you pulled him into a kiss as your answer. You had to taste his lips, they looked so juicy, a little red from worrying at them. You pulled away for a breath and backed towards his desk pulling him by his tie gently. He had a wicked smile on his face and followed. You sat on the desk legs spread, skirt riding up a bit and Chan nestled himself between your thighs, gripping your hips before kissing you again. You wrapped your arms around his wide shoulders and scooched forward. 
“I’ve had the biggest crush on you since I started here.” He admitted suddenly, lips hovering over yours. You couldn’t help how big your smile got. 
“Really?” He nodded biting at his lips and then kissing you again, his tongue sliding into your mouth, tasting you until oxygen was needed. 
“I’ve always noticed you too, it’s always kind of scared me.” You panted out. One of Chan’s hands was on your waist the other tracing your jaw.  
“You don’t have to be scared baby girl.” You felt warm all over hearing him say that. 
“I know.” You lifted your skirt more then hooked your fingers into the side of your panties and pulled them over, exposing your dripping sex to him. He looked down and his mouth watered but then he forced himself to look back up at you. 
“Are you sure?” You nodded and pulled at him desperately. 
“Mhmm.” You needed him. Chan started to unbuckle his pants, pulling them down and just as he was about to pull down his briefs, exposing the large outline in them, he realized something. 
“Oh... uh... I don’t have a condom.” You looked at him sweetly, a little shy, you always were when it came to this stuff. 
“Well... it’s just... together forever, right? I mean, that’s what this means... doesn’t it?” Chan cupped your face and nodded his eyes sparkling. 
“Together forever.” He kissed you softly. 
“I’m on the pill, so... it’s okay.” He shook his head, then dropped his underwear and you got a full view of what had been straining against the stretchy fabric of his briefs. You gnawed at your lips and he didn’t waste time. Chan wrapped your legs around him and lined up with your wet hole. When he sank into you it finally made sense.  
“Yes... fuck... f-feels so good baby girl. Please wanna hear you say my name, tell me how you want it beautiful.” 
“Chan yes fuck... harder, fuck me harder...” Chan fucked you harder, panting and moaning just as much as you. You loved how he wasn’t scared to make a little bit of noise for you. Not enough for anyone outside the office to hear but enough to make you drip for him. Chan shook his head no. 
“C-call me Chris...” 
“What?” You stopped him and looked into his eyes, your soulmate’s eyes. 
“C-Chris, my real first name is Chris...” I’ll be goddamned, you thought to yourself. 
“What’s your last name?” He smirked at you with a funny look on his face, laughing a little. 
“Seems like an unusual time to ask. Wanna know what yours is gonna be in the future?” You flushed and smiled. 
“It’s Bang.” He kissed you. The fucking psychic was right. 
“Why does everyone call you Chan?” He pushed a stray hair away and you couldn’t help but lean into his warmth. 
“It’s my middle name and there is a lot of Chris’ on our team. So I go by Chan in the office, but everywhere else, I’m Chris and I’d very much prefer to be Chris when I’m inside you. He rolled his hips and your eyes rolled back.  
“Mmmm Chris...” He started fucking you harder egged on by you using his actual first name. 
“huhuhu Chrisss...” Harder harder harder he kept pounding into you. He loved it he wanted more. 
“C-C-Chr-risss... g-gonna... gonna cum.” A light sweat was starting to break out on Chan’s forehead as he pushed you harder towards your climax. Your arms wrapped around him hand fulls of his beautiful curls. 
“God fuck I’m gonna cum too... fuck! Cum with me baby girl... cum with me.” He snapped his hips into yours again, brushing your g spot and you went nose diving into your orgasm clutching onto his muscular frame tightly, gasping for air. As soon as your cunt started clenching around Chan he started coming too, pushing deep inside as he filled you.
You both held each other, your legs wrapped around him, foreheads pressed together, trying to catch your breath. Once both your heartbeats returned to normal Chan helped you off his desk and pulled your skirt down for you. You adjusted his tie and he leaned in kissing you again. 
“Uh do you maybe wanna grab some dinner tonight?” You smiled and tried to help tame his curls a bit after mussing them when you came. 
@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @jisuperboard @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @svintsandghosts @the-sweetest-rose @alice05280 @3rachasninja @m0ri-apeuda @eastleighsblog @linoification @mlink64 @smally97 @fun-fanfics
“I’d love to Chris.” 
Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!
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russellsppttemplates · 8 months
Text
One step at a time (Charles Leclerc)
A scare pushes your family even closer and, fortunately, it all turns well
Note: english is not my first language. I've had these requests in my inbox for a really long time, and I've debated on if and how I should write them, because it is a sensitive topic that I feel huge respect about and I hope I have written it in a respectful way. In a way, this is based in stories I've heard, so I hope it is a good depiction as I'm not a doctor nor someone who has experienced this.
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: depicts a potential pregnancy loss for the reader (mentions pain, cramping, anxiety, blood, hospitals)
"Do you have his bag, Charles?", you asked your husband, looking around Hervé's room for his cardigan, "yes, I have it here!", he said back to you from the kitchen. Charles had a full afternoon with meetings and you happened to be needed presently at your office just the day that Hervé's pre-school had an unexpected problem with the electricity and that they wouldn't be able to keep the kids for today. Luckily, Pascale had the day off from her salon, so it was only a couple of minutes of you and Charles running around like headless chickens before you realised the small issue had a solution.
"Ready to go to grand-mère, my love?", you called for your son, helping him put the soft piece on before he grabbed his backpack, "have a good day, buddy! Give grand-mère a big kiss for me, okay?", Charles noted, kissing the top of his son's head and getting up to face you, "and you too, amour, have a good day", he kisser your lips.
Grabbing your bag and Hervé's hand, you saw Charles bend down to face your bump, "and you, little one, I hope you have a good day too, no messing around, okay?", he gently caressed your small baby bump. To anyone else, you probably looked bloated, but Charles couldn't help himself anytime he was near you. After all, you were once again making one of his dreams come true and he wanted to love on you as much as he could, especially when this time around, morning sickness was more of an all day thing.
"Have a good day too, handsome. I'll see you later!", you headed out of the door first, helping your son into his car seat before safely strapping him in and getting on the driver's seat.
Arriving at Pascale's, you knocked on her door and she quickly answered it, "hello, mon petit! Are we going to have a big adventure today?", she laughed at her grandson's excitement upon seeing her, "again, thank you so much, Pascale, you're our saviour", you thanked, kissing her cheek as you bid them goodbye, "be good for grand-mère, okay my love?", you ruffled Hervé's hair, kissing his forehead and helping him inside, "Can we bake a cake?", he asked his grandmother, "That's a lovely idea! To the kitchen we go! Have a good day, chérie!", she yelled, closing the door quickly with one hand as her other hand was being pulled to the kitchen.
The workload for the day wasn't a lot compared to most days, and the morning meetings had been quite okay, and for what felt like after a really long time, you had been able to keep your food down despite the cramps you felt. After all, food barely got that far on your system, so much so that your body was unsure of what to do.
The afternoon meeting was going at a slower pace because the matters in discussion required it, "but I think this would be better for all the patients that work until five. I won't the the one for all of those appointments, and maybe I can't assure the ones until eight or nine o'clock at night, but I know Emilia prefers the later hours", you turned to her, "yes, for me personally it's easier if I get here later and leave later, my daughter's school is flexible, and my wife can pick her up", she reasoned, "so, like this, we can get to more people", one of your other colleagues smiled, writing down the ideas so you could close another topic.
You adjusted your position on the chair, hoping to find one more comfortable when you felt something on your underwear, "did you just pee yourself, Y/N?", you mumbled to yourself, excusing yourself from the meeting so you could go to the bathroom.
Reaching the stall, you untucked your shirt from your pants and pulled them down, underwear included to see a red stain. That was not good, you thought, seeing that it wasn't some small skin knick from the elasticated fabric.
Trying to stay as calm as you could, you called for Emilia, "what's up? Do you need me to unfasten your bra again? I told you your boobs grew at least two cup size- oh", she stopped as soon as she saw your trembling lip, "what's wrong?", she wondered, "I'm bleeding, it's not a lot, but I don't think this is the spotting they say. Can you take me to the hospital, please?", you murmured, accepting her hand as she helped you out of the bathroom.
"You guys carry on with the meeting, okay? I need to take Y/N to the hospital to get checked out", Emilia announced to the room, receiving a million and one questions, "let us know if you need enything, okay?", Nora, one of your older colleagues said. Unlike the most of the team, Nora was already a grandmother and almost like a mother to everyone who worked with you, and she had been the one to tell you to take a pregnancy test, and now, to catch on what was happening, "Y/N", she called for you, seeing your scared face, "everything is going to be alright, yes? You're one of the strongest women I've ever met. I know its difficult, but try not to think the worst, okay. We love you and we are here for you", she smiled reassuringly, kissing your forehead.
Seeing Emilia leave the meeting room with your phone and wallet, "I have your documentation and your phone here, let's go", she calmly said, not wanting to add to the turmoil of emotions you were already feeling.
"I'll ruin your seats", you thought out loud once you got to her car, "here! Let me put this down", Emilia thought fast, grabbing what looked like her daughter's towell, "Laura said that she doesn't like it anyway", she tried to get your mind off and distract you as you sat down and she started driving, "claims it's not sparkly enough and it doesn't match her personality. Can you believe that? A towell doesn't match the personality of a five year old!", she smiled apologetically, "are you in pain?", she questioned, "just cramps, but very small ones, they're barely there if I don't pay attention honestly", you breathed out, "it's two minutes to the hospital", she checked.
Arriving at the hospital, the emergency room was packed and you looked around in a fret, knowing that it would be a while for someone to get to you. Emilia saw someone in scrubs and that was enough for her, "sorry, excuse us, doctor! My friend here is bleeding", she yelled through the room, hoping to catch his attention, "I feel it down my pants", you gulped as the effort you had been putting on not crying long gone as tears fell on your cheeks, "I'm a nurse, let me", he encouraged you as he bent down to carry you, placing one arm under your knees and one around your back as he walked as quickly as he could into the corridor, "pregnant woman, early thirties, bleeding in what could be a potential miscarriage!", he yelled, grabbing the attention of some of his colleagues as they took a good look at your situation, one of them grabbing a wheel chair and approaching you, "Hi, we are going to take care of you two, okay? I just need your ID", she soflty said as Emilia handed it to her, "now let's go and see what is happening here", the male nurse wheeled you to the room where they kept the emergency ultrasound, "there's a lot of blood", you mentioned, not enjoying the silence despite the rush around you, "Hi, Y/N, let's see, okay? Yu know this could be a-", the doctor who had just arrived began, "A miscarriage, I know, I- I can feel that I'm bleeding a lot", you whispered, "I'm going to examine you now", she informed, working up the machine and looking at the screen, "Oh, here they are", she pointed to the screen, urging one of the nurses to use the cardiac monitor so you could hear the baby's heartbeat, "this is your baby's heartbeat, Y/N. Your baby is here", she showed you. And it triggered you to cry a little bit more, looking at Emilia as she squeezed your hand.
"Still,", the doctor noted, cleaning up the device before she made room so the nurses would help with the rest, "this could mean two things: you could've had a placental abruption, and they tend to solve on their own with bed rest, but it could also be the start of a miscarriage. Medically, we can't tell them apart until it happens, there's no medication we can give you that can help, so I'd like to keep you for observation", she stated, earning your nod as you felt the nurses help you into a clean wheelchair, ready to take you up to a room.
After cleaning and freshening up as you could, you looked at the clock and gathered that it was time to call Charles, "I've texted the team to let them know how you were doing already", Emilia said as she handed you your phone, "thanks", you mumbled, taking a deep breath before hitting the call icon so you could speak to your husband, knowing his meeting was finished by now, "Hello, amour. I was just about to call you and ask if you wanted me to pick up Hervé", your husband said on the other end of the line, "Hi, actually, you might want to put that off. When I was at work, I noticed I was bleeding in my underwear, so Emilia took me to the hospital and they're keeping me for observation. But I heard the baby's heartbeat", you said all in one go, "are you feeling good?", you heard the strained tone of Charles' voice, "yes, but, I want you here", you gulped, "I'm on my way, mon amour. I love you, okay? I'll be there in a bit", Charles said before he dialed off the call.
"I'll be here until Charles gets here", Emilia pointed as she felt you were about to brush off the whole situation and tell her to go home, "besides, Laura would probably tell me that her backpack doesn't match her personality and, quite frankly, the day is not calling for it", she attempted to make you smile, smiling too when the corners of your lips lifted a little.
You must've have fallen asleep because you woke up with Charles' lips kissing your forehead, "hey", he called gently, "I'm already going, Y/N. I hope everything works out well", Emilia smiled as she blew you kiss, closing the door behind her.
Charles pulled the chair as close to your bed as possible, sitting down and holding your hand in his, "hi", you murmured, unsure of how to begin the conversation, "I'm glad you're here".
Your husband was quick however, "of course, my love. I texted my mum and she said she doesn't mind having Hervé spend a few days with her", he began, "and how are you feeling? What happened?", he asked gently.
You were explaining what happened, from the moment you left the meeting until the doctor examined when you heard a knock on the door, the nurse and doctor that had checked you in asking if they could check on you.
"This is Charles, my husband", you introduced, seeing him shake their hands, "thank you so much for what you've done while I wasn't here", he thanked them, waiting for them to continue and explain what had happened to you so he too could hear it.
"So now we just wait?", he questioned, "yes, unfortunately we don't have any other way to deal with this situation other than bed rest", she explained, "from the scans we did earlier, it seems like it's not a big situation, but I understand your worries and doubts. This is a worrisome situation, but we are doing everything we can to make sure your baby stays safe in your uterus", she smiled, looking at the CTG machine, "your baby looks comfortable, and their heartbeat is good, very strong", she allowed you to hear the sound, knowing it usually calms the parents a little bit to hear the noise, "the bleeding seems to have stopped to", the nurse conforted, too.
Your doctor was paged for an emergency, leaving you with the nurse that had initially helped you, "I wanted to thank you for what you did to my wife, I really appreciate it", Charles said, "my wife and I also had a scare like this, so I know how it is to be on the other side. Now we have a three year old boy that resembles a storm everywhere he goes. Just take this one step at a time. By the looks of it, you should be going home tomorrow", he said, "I'm sure it will be a little better to be at home rather than here", he excused himself.
.
After one last check-up, your doctor didn't see the need to keep you at the hospital since things were looking up, prescribing you bed rest for the foreseeable weeks.
"Here, amour, are you comfortable like this?", he asked, arranging the pillows on the sofa, "I am, thank you", you whispered, kissing his cheek when he sat next to you, "one step at a time, okay?", you reassured, "is your mother still bringing Hervé? Or do you need to go and pick him up?", you wondered.
"Mum texted me saying she would leave in a few minutes, so any minute now", he smiled, "I've sent an email to the team, and now that there's a break, they need me a little less so hopefully I'm home more often than I am not", Charles explained, hearing a knock on the door, "must be them".
Hervé was quick to run to greet you on the sofa, "Grand-mère said you were not feeling good, mama. Can I give you a kiss?", he asked, bring weary of approaching you, "it's okay, mon ange, I'm okay. You can sit here next to me", you smiled, opening your arms so he could cuddle your side, "I told him he needed to be careful now and that he should be even more well behaved now so he could help mama get better and help papa, too", Pascale added, approaching you and kissing your forehead lovingly, "all will be well, chérie", she whispered, leaving you three.
"Mama, I made you a drawing", Hervé announced, grabbing the sheet of paper from his backpack and showing it, "it's a sun, some clouds and a rainbow. Because even when it rains, sometimes you see a rainbow", he announced happily, "That's right, my love", you cheered, feeling Charles sit next to you on the sofa, "I have you boys with me, there is no rain that is going to bring any harm", you expressed your gratitude, feeling Charles embrace you both while Hervé picked out a movie for you to watch.
.
Hervé walked hand in hand with his gradmother after she picked him up from pre-school, "I'm going to see my mama and my sister," he announced to anyone that they crossed on the hospital corridor, his big brother badge earning many smiles and compliments on the labour ward, "mama and papa are in that room there, but do you remember what I told you, mon petit?", Pascalr asked softly, earning a nod, "mama needs to rest, and I have to be careful with her tummy because that is where Amélie came from", he said, "And your voice?", she smiled, "quiet voice", he nodded before she knocked on the door, Charles coming to open it and greet his eldest and his mother.
Hervé curiously looked around, taking everything in and seeing you on the bed with your daughter sleeping on your chest, "Mama", he whispered, approaching you.
Charles helped him up to sit on the bed next to you without hurting you before greeting his mother, thanking her for looking after the little boy, "Hey mon petit, how are you?", you brushed his soft hair with your fingers, not receiving an answer as he was mesmerised with the little baby on your chest, "can I touch her cheek?", he asked, his little hand stretching, "of course, mon ange", you urged, seeing Charles and Pascale sit on the sofa by the window.
"Her skin is so soft", he noted, earning chuckles from everyone, "it is, very soft", Charles agreed as he watched Hervé completely mesmerised with his sister, "is she going to join us when me and papa go see the karts?", "when she's older, yes. For now we'll stick to laying on us, letting her sleep and some tummy time later".
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starlitmark · 5 months
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Summary: You decided to surprise San at the office, and things get a bit… out of hand… Pairing: Dragon!San x fem bunny hybrid!reader Tropes: hybrid au, poly au (background) Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, pet names, reader has blue eyes due to being a bunny, magic usage Smut Warnings: kissing, oral (f receive), psuedo exhibitionism, possessiveness Word Count: 2,527 Note: Happy (very late) birthday, Topaz @sanjoongie! I hope you enjoy!!
Cotton Tails and Simmering Fires Masterlist
Before You Interact
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“Where are you off to?” A rather nosy pink-eyed dragon asks.
“Well,” you start, “I know Sannie’s been stressed with this merger he’s working on… I was gonna go to the office to surprise him.”
Although you’re not particularly close with Wooyoung, he’s been nothing but welcoming and kind. That only shows more when he flashes a bright smile at you, his sharp fangs showing as he does so. The bar through his eyebrow glints in the kitchen lighting as his eyebrows scrunch slightly with the intensity of his smile.
“Well, I’m finishing up some lunch, and if you want, I can pack some up so you can take it to him. It’s nothing special, just a bulgogi bowl, but I’m sure he’d appreciate it.” the white-scaled dragon offers, “I can pack some rice and veggies for you, too. If you’d like that!”
You smile at him, ears perked up on top of your head. “I’d really like that, actually, thank you.”
Wooyoung nods at you and immediately starts preparing two boxes to transport the food in. As you wait, you look at the purple-haired man in more detail than normal. Not in any way other than to observe him. He practically lives in his dance studio, so to see him now, you know you should keep a visual log of him. A tattoo of lightning strikes stands out against the skin of his neck and disappears beneath the collar of his slightly too big long-sleeve shirt as he meticulously packs the food he offered earlier. You stay silent as he does so. The silence isn’t awkward, though. With some of the Thunder, you do feel a bit of tension. With Wooyoung, though, you’ve never felt uneasy. When he hands you a small bag with the containers, he offers you another smile with a giggle laced into it.
“Have fun on your adventures! I’ll tell your other boyfriends where you’re off to in case they ask.”
You shake your head, “Jongho is with a client, Yeosang is dead asleep after trying to pull an all-nighter, and Seonghwa is booked solid. I doubt any of them will be looking for me any time soon. I appreciate the offer, though. Bye, Woo!”
And with that, you’re out the door and heading toward San’s office. It’s much too far to walk, and although your boyfriends never let you drive, you can do so. The drive isn’t horrible… until you get into the heart of the city where San’s company is housed. Among the concrete jungle, his starkly black glass skyscraper stands out. The traffic around the area leaves much to be desired. Sitting in the same spot, not even 500 feet from the entrance to the parking garage below the building, for nearly ten minutes is a form of torture you’d never wish upon anyone. Once you get to the entrance of the garage, the security simply sees the car and then your face and lets you pass. With how often you’ve shown up (typically accompanying San), the most important staff members know who you are. 
While the ride up to San’s top-floor office is long, you find yourself more excited with each floor you pass. Your tail wiggles beneath the length of your cardigan as a way to expel some of that excited energy. A few of the chairmen say hello to you in passing once you do exit the elevator. It seems that San must’ve just gotten out of a meeting with a few of them based on how many you saw. Then, stopping outside his office in front of his secretary’s desk, you lean forward toward the deer hybrid. With one elbow on top of the ledge, you rest your chin on your palm.
“Hey, you.” You call playfully.
“Oh! I didn’t know you were coming today! If I had known-”
“Somin, calm down,” you giggle, “I didn’t tell you or San I was coming. I’m surprising him. Play along?”
The other prey hybrid nods and smiles softly. You watch as she presses a few buttons on the intercom before it starts ringing. After about three rings, you hear San pick up the other end of the line. You step past her desk and stand by the large dark cherry wood doors that lead to your purple-scaled boyfriend.
“Yes, Somin?” He asks. You can hear that he’s preoccupied with some paperwork just by his tone.
“You have someone here to see you.” The deer hybrid says calmly.
“Somin…” A warning tone in his voice sends a chill down your spine and settles between your legs, “I just started my lunch break. Why would you-”
You push open the door and walk right in. A bright smile radiated from your lips, and your tall white ears stood high with joy.
“If you don’t want home-cooked food from Wooyoung or to see your favorite bunny, just say so.” You tease.
San’s pending annoyance instantly simmers, and he whisks you up in his arms. His silver lip ring stands out against his plump, pink lips as they grow into a smile. You giggle as he lifts you up and hugs you tight against his body. Typically, he doesn’t show much physical affection while he’s in his office. Him picking you up and holding you tight against his muscular frame has your heart and stomach flooding with butterflies. You feel him take a few steps back into the office before nudging the door shut with his foot. He puts you down and takes the small bag with the food from you.
“You didn’t even let me say bye to Somin.” You say with a pout.
“You’ll see her on your way out.” San reminds you, “I want to take up as much time as I can with you.”
You make your way over to the black leather couch, plop down, and wait for San to join you to eat. Normally, he eats at his desk, drowning in papers as he eats. He makes an exception with you here and sits with you on the couch. Despite the office being very formal, the couch is framed by two tall bookshelves. There’s a mix of different genres. Of course, he has some boring books that pertain to his career. But fantasy, classical, mystery, and many more books are on the shelves. San sits down beside you and pulls out the containers before placing them side by side on the glass coffee table in front of you.
“How were your morning meetings?” You question once he starts opening the containers.
“Not bad… Mr. Kim tried to tell me how to run my company again.” He starts to grumble at the end.
“And you’ve never let him.” You remind him before taking a bite of your veggies and rice. “You do an amazing job, and we both know that.”
He nods, his slitted pupils dilating when he looks at you, “It was nice of Wooyoung to make you a veggie bowl.”
“Yeah, he actually stopped me on my way out and offered to send me with the food. I think he just made too much, honestly.” You giggle.
You and San float through conversation as you eat. At some point, you whined about your food getting a little too cold for your liking. San instantly takes the container from you and heats his hand just enough to warm your food back up. As your time together progresses, you end up practically on top of your silver-eyed boyfriend. You’re tucked under his arm, legs curled up on the couch while you finish the last few bites of your food. His typically neat button-up is slightly wrinkled, and a bit of your snow-white fur has found its way onto the black fabric.
“Treasure.” San sighs, placing both containers on the table after you finish eating.
“Hmm?” you hum back, looking up at him, “Is everything okay?”
“Come sit.” He tells you while patting his thigh.
You don’t waste a second. You move from being tucked under his arm to straddling his lap. His hands fall onto your hips, rubbing his thumb against your left one in small circular motions. You normally can’t smell your scent, but now, you smell yourself clearly and smell how sweet your scent has become. A smirk touches San’s lips. You see a small tendril of smoke escape his lip. The smoke curls around his lip ring before disappearing into the air.
“You smell so good right now, Treasure.” He practically growls, “It’s taking everything in me not to jump you right now.”
“What’s stopping you?” You challenge.
A curl of smoke escapes the corner of your boyfriend’s lips, and his pupils sharpen; you can hardly see them. He’s trying so hard to maintain his composure, but you both know he’s weak to you. His large hands press harder into your hip bone, hoping to remain composed. He snaps when you whimper, and your nose starts twitching as a response to the predatory hybrid. You find yourself spun around and bent over the couch he had been seated on moments ago.
“I’m so happy you chose to wear this dress today, Treasure.” He practically growls as he kneels down, running the pad of his finger against your clothed folds, “You’re already soaked, and I’ve barely touched you.”
On a normal day, San makes you melt into a puddle. Something about doing this here in his office with the city below you makes you practically vibrate with excitement. You feel the heat of his lip ring against the back of your thigh. His kisses trail higher and higher until he’s pressing barely there kisses against your clothed heat. His lip ring burns hot through the fabric. Just when you think you may go insane from the thin barrier between your core and San’s lips, he tugs the material. A rip sounds through the office.
“You don’t need them here, Treasure. No one’s gonna see you like this but me.” he practically growls.
Before you can formulate any response, San’s tongue delves into you. The pink muscle is normally warm as is, but he seems to have heated it more. The hot feeling of his tongue deep inside you makes your thighs twitch. Your head falls forward against the back of the couch; your ears flop forward in front of your face along the leather.
“Sannie,” you whine, grinding back on his tongue more.
“Hmm?” San responds, and the vibration of his voice sends tendrils of pleasure through your body.
You can’t even think of what you wanted to say to him mere seconds ago. Instead, you grind back against his face more. Your silver-eyed boyfriend has other plans, though. You swear you can feel him smirk before letting a hand trail along your thigh. His nails scrape against your skin just enough to leave thin red marks in their wake. The fingers trail around between your thighs just in front of his face and start gently grazing across your clit. Just enough for you to be aware of the stimulation but not enough to give you any release.
“Do you want something, Treasure?” He mumbles before continuing to lap at your folds.
“Sannie,” you whimper, “want- fuck- want-” You cut yourself off with a moan.
You try to push back against him again, only to have his other hand grip your tail. You let out a loud moan and tremble at the contact. Your orgasm comes out of left field, and you crumble against the couch as your boyfriend helps you ride out your high. The moment you come back down, you find yourself limp over the back of the couch. Your thighs are still trembling, and your snowy ears twitch slightly.
“Treasure.” San calls with authority in his tone, “You didn’t answer my question, I’m afraid-”
His words get cut off by the sound of his desk phone ringing. You hear a huff before he strides over. Rolling so you lay against the cool leather. San clearly is hard inside his dress pants but focuses on getting to the incessant ringing phone. He throws himself back in his large office chair and presses the button to allow the call to be on speaker.
“M-Mr. Choi,” It’s Somin, “The officials from-”
The sound is cut off from your ears when San picks up the phone and brings it to his ear. You glance at the scraps of your panties on the floor and kick them under the couch before quietly walking up to your boyfriend. His eyes follow you as he listens to his secretary.
“You mean to tell me that they’re an hour early? They aren’t supposed to be here until 3pm.”
You don’t hear Somin’s response, but San’s silver eyes dart to the clock on the wall. It is 3pm. Your pale blue eyes meet San’s silver ones before you step closer. You push his shoulder just enough to move his chair back. The chord of the phone stretches just a bit but not enough to strain it.
“What are you doing?” The purple dragon mouths to you.
You hold a finger up to your lip. You kneel down and shimmy your way under his desk. His pupils are thinly slit again. Seeing the shift from how dilated they were moments ago sends shivers up your spine. His eyes stay trained on you as you run your hands over his strong thighs. Another curl of smoke escapes his lips. He’s trying so hard to hold back.
“H-huh? Yes, Somin, I heard you. Yes, yes-”
San takes a sharp breath when your hand runs over his clothed member. You can feel the small hard bubbles that run up his member. Your mouth waters like a Pavlovian response to it.
“They’re downstairs, you said?” San asks, trying to maintain his composure. “Yeah, send them up.” he tells her, a fire burning in his eyes as he watches you. “She’ll be leaving shortly, it’s okay.”
You give him big, innocent eyes, and ears back against your hair as you start to play with his belt buckle. He leans forward and places the phone back on the stand. A small flicker of flames is visible as he pulls his hand back from the device. He gives you a burning stare, his pupils practically swallowed by the metallic silver swirling in his irises.
“Behave yourself.” He bites, “If you can behave while I have this meeting, you’ll be forgiven from enduring that punishment I was about to dole out.”
You nod, “Can’t I have a bit of fun, though?” You bat your eyelashes at him, hoping to sway his choice.
“After they’re seated.” He caves, “And you’ll take whatever I give you. No funny business, understand?”
“Yes, sir!” You respond with a slightly teasing giggle to your tone.
A growl, followed by a tendril of smoke from his nostril, escapes him. He looks as though he’s about to correct your rather sudden bratty behavior before a knock sounds on the dark cherry wood door. He doesn’t say a word to you, but his eyes speak for him. ‘Behave yourself and stay quiet, or you’ll pay the price.’
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wearebarca · 23 days
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Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 3
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Part 1 part 2 part 3
synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed too long at the same place. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.
word count: 4,3K
18 + (eventually)
A/N: Hello, notify me if you'd like a little album of the pictures Rosalie takes. Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy.
The question took the brunette by surprise. She could see that the footballer was getting more comfortable around her but she did not think that the woman would ask such a personal question. The subject had always been quite sensitive for the Canadian but, for unknown reasons she felt that, here, in this empty facility, with the catalonian trusting her with this whole process, she felt like she could share this bit of her story.
“ My uncle was a wedding photographer. When I was younger, he used to bring me with him to some weddings and have me play his little assistant. He would give me one of those single use cameras and tell me to capture what I found beautiful.” The memory put a nostalgic smile to the woman’s face. To this day, she still incredibly misses her uncle and wishes that he could see her today. 
“My parents were busy people, so my uncle took me under his wing. He taught me everything he knew and encouraged me to pursue this passion and helped me make a career out of it.” She raised her camera and snapped a shot of the blond who was listening with a small smile on her face.  “ Can you angle yourself towards the left please?” 
The blond moved to the side and for the first time tonight, really took the time to look at the brunette. Her hair was in a messy bun with a few strands escaping and framing her face. Her high waisted jean shorts showed off her long legs. She had on an oversized gray grandad cardigan on top of her black t–shirt. The sleeves of her sweater were slightly too long and went over her hands. The brunette looked comfortable and at ease, she was relaxed and completely in her element. She looked nothing like the photographer’s Alexia had worked with in the past. She was used to flamboyant people who yelled orders at their models or were constantly harassing her with their camera, not this slightly awkward, caring, beautiful woman who was willingly sharing her story with the footballer.
“ He must be an incredible photographer.”
“ He was yes,” The brunette’s expression dimed at that, Alexia suddenly felt bad for bringing the subject but the smaller woman motionned to her that everything was ok and continued. “  Eleven years ago he was diagnosed with bone cancer. He died a year later, not long after my eighteenth birthday.”  
“ I am sorry,”
“ Don’t be, I’m happy to talk about him,” She said smiling, “ What about you? Why football?”
“ My dad, he loved football. He was always very supportive and proud. He got sick.” The blond said, looking down, not wanting the photographer to see her be vulnerable. Rosalie felt the shift in the atmosphere and put down her camera. “ He said that he would not die before seeing his daughter play for Barcelona’s first team, but he went two months before I reached our goal.” 
The brunette wanted to hug the girl standing in front of her but could not decide if she would be comfortable enough to do so. “ I am sure he is extremely proud of what you have accomplished, La reina”, the name earned the smaller woman an eye roll from the footballer who shifted in a different position for the photographer. 
“ Ok, let’s get this shoot over with, I think we both deserve to go home and finally relax.” They finished up quickly and Rosalie was quite happy with the pictures that came out. While she uploaded the pictures to her computer, the blond helped picking up the equipment. Grateful for her help, the brunette promised the captain that she would bring her coffee next week as a thank you.
They walked out of the empty training center as the sun was starting to set. When the brunette reached her small car, she turned around to see the taller woman standing awkwardly behind her. 
“ I just wanted to thank you for making this shooting so casual and easy.”
“ Of course, anything to make you comfortable, Alexia.” She grabbed the blond’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. “ Have a good weekend Capitana,” 
“Thank you,” The blond started to walk towards her own car but turned back around after a few steps. 
“ Bonne nuit Rosalià.”
The morning air was crisp against her sweat coated skin and the breeze coming from the sea kept the brunette cool even after running for an hour. It was still incredibly early in the morning and the only sounds that could be heard were the odd car passing and the sound of her feet hitting the pavement. Early morning was her favorite time to go run. It allowed her to be completely submerce by the calmness of the still sleeping city. Rosalie didn’t often run with music, preferring to listen to the sounds of her own steps, which acted as some sort of metronome for the torrent of thoughts running in her head lately. 
It had been four days since her shooting with the captain and still, the whole ordeal seemed to be the subject her brain would drift back to whenever the French-Canadian would let her mind run free. The fact that the blond seemed to make tremendous effort to stay as far as she could from the photographer had not helped the questions that were quickly multiplying in her head. 
Rosalie somehow thought that after that night, Alexia would be more approachable and less standoffish. But clearly the woman was not as comfortable as she thought with how vulnerable they had gotten and now she was probably regretting telling the brunette so much. Or maybe she thought that Rosalie went too far by sharing her story with the footballer. Whatever the reason was, the results were still the same. 
Later today, the team will be taking off towards Sevilla for a two day trip. They would all meet at the training center and take the team bus towards the airport. Flying had always been a tricky thing for Rosalie. When she was a teenager she had been on a plane with extremely violent turbulence that had scared the girl and ever since, flying had been one of the woman’s biggest fears. Her friends had always found the thing ironic, since the brunette's job required Rosalie to fly frequently and said that she should’ve gotten used to it by now. But nonetheless, every time the photographer simply thought about flying, she would get restless and anxiety would start creating a pit in her stomach. 
This was the reason why she was currently out at such an ungodly hour, trying to literally run away from her anxious thoughts. Around her she could see that the small coffee shops that were lined on the streets were starting to set up their front patios in order to open and the smell of freshly baked pastries was floating in the morning air. A quick look at her watch told her that she still had a good three hours before Lucy and Keira would arrive at her apartment to pick her up, meaning that she still had time to hit  the half marathon mark before heading back.
She wasn’t used to running this long on morning runs, but she had gone over her training program with Sara, one of the coaches and switched up her training to make it more challenging. So far her breathing was good and she could feel the slight burn of her legs but overall, her pace was good and she was more than satisfied with her time. 
Sara had been a true angel this past week. She had helped the runner organize a new training plan that was focused more on endurance rather than speed. Rosalis had always struggled with long distances which was why marathons were her least favourite type of races. She was extremely hard headed though so she was still focused on mastering this type of event. 
She even went as far as going running with the Canadian during the weekend. She was quite impressed by the level of fitness the brunette was displaying and found that she very much appreciated the company of the French-Canadian. After their run they had stopped at a local café and had agreed to room together during the upcoming trip. 
When Rosalie arrived at her apartment complex, she noticed the couple’s car parked by the door. She checked her watch to see that she technically still had at least an hour and a half before they were supposed to be here. She opened her door to come face to face with a sleeping form on her couch and Lucy running around in her kitchen.the smell of crêpe was wafting in the space.
“ Took you long enough,” The older woman whispered, handing Rosalie a fresh cup of coffee.
“How did you even get in here?”
“ You’re the one who left her door unlocked Rosie, which is not very safe darling you should be more careful.” 
The blob of  blankets on the couch stirred enough to reveal disheveled blond reddish hair. “ Lucy, please shut your mouth. I'm trying to sleep here.”
Rosalie made her  way to the living room and jumped on the woman who screamed at the Canadian to get off.
“ Frenchy you smell like ass go shower, Mama Bronze isn’t done with food anyway.” 
After her shower the brunette put on some comfortable clothes consisting of the staff’s tracksuit pants, a white t-shirt with the Barcelona logo and the Nike club vest that had quickly become one of her favorite articles of clothing. When she came back in the kitchen, everything had been picked up and the kitchen island was dressed up with the food. Lucy and keira were already sitting down and shoveling down food.
“ Mais quel bande d’animal, sincèrement? Vous ne pouviez pas attendre que j’aille fini?”
“ Tais toi femme et viens manger.” Lucy replied with her mouth full.
“ I regret teaching you French, I hope you know that.” She sat down and sipped on her coffee. She wasn’t hungry due to the knot that kept her stomach in check. Knowing that the younger woman would most likely not be able to eat due to her nervousness, Lucy got up and pulled out from the fridge a protein smoothie she had made at home before coming over. 
“Here, at least drink this, you just came back from what I assume was a big run. You gotta put something in you.”
Once breakfast was over, Rosalie finished packing up her camera bag while the girls were loading her bags in the car. The drive to the training center was quiet. Keira was still half asleep and Rosalie was simply too stressed to engage in conversation. Lucy didn’t mind the silence, she was relaxing and enjoying the time spent with two of the most important people in her life. 
The bus ride with the team was more or less the same, with everyone in  pretty much the same state as Keira. As they got closer to the airport, Rosalie’s nerves became worse. Her knee was bouncing up and down and the woman kept zoning out, unable to keep listening to Martina who was going on about a rumor about some people working in management. Thanks to Marcello’s participation in the conversation, Rosalie’s state remained relatively unknown. Or so she thought. 
A few seats behind her, Ingrid, Alexia, Mapi, Keira and Lucy were all sitting together. Knowing that the younger girl was quite fragile at the moment, Lucy had kept a close eye on her. 
“ Hermana, you keep watching Rosie, is everything good?” Mapi wondered, stretching her neck to catch a glimpse of the photographer. 
“She hates flying, it affects her a lot. I just don’t want her to get too bad, you know » Alexia had also noticed the change in the brunette. The normally bubbly woman looked pale and uncharacteristically quiet. 
« Can we do something to help? » Ingrid asked.
« Not really, nothing really distracts her in this situation. We just have to let her process this and stay close, just in case. » Keira replied. They were used to flying with the brunette and had tried everything to help her calm down but nothing really did the trick. She usually would put her headphones in and grip the seat as  hard as she could until they would land. 
Lucy got up and excused herself. Alexia watched her make her way to the front of the bus where the coaches, therapist and the rest of the staff were. “What is she doing?”
“ I think she’s trying to figure out who’s sitting with Frenchy on the plane.” Keira answered, turning towards her girlfriend.
“ They are close, Si?” Alexia’s curiosity had gotten the best of her. She wasn’t jealous, she could see that Lucy and Keira cared a lot about the green-eyed woman and she did not understand why, but she wanted to know as much as she could about her. 
“ Yeah, Like sisters they are. Lucy’s very protective of her, she does have much family. We’re hers now, you know.” Keira smiled as she watched Lucy walk back to her seat, but not without stopping to drop a granola bar on The Canadian’s lap and threatening her to eat it before they boarded. 
“ So who’s with her?” 
“ Apparently she’s the only staff member who didn’t get a ticket in the same area, probably because they booked it after everyone else. She’s gonna sit with the team, but we don’t know our seats yet so..” She said as she sat back down.
“ It’s ok, I can ask whoever is with her to swap with me, I’ll sit with her.” Ingrid said smiling. 
“ Thank you Ingrid,” Lucy said, visibly more relaxed knowing that the brunette would be with someone she seemed to trust.
At the airport, security went smoothly and the team collected their boarding passes only to be called moments later to the gate. The speed at which everything was going was a godsend for Rosalie who was too focused on making sure she had all her documents all the while taking pictures of the team, to have time to think about the moment the wheel of the plane would leave the ground. 
As she walked in the tunnel leading to the aircraft, Rosalie could feel her heart hammering in her chest and her palms getting increasingly sweaty. Lucy’s grounding presence helped the brunette a little but her fear was fighting hard to gain control. The photographer checked her boarding pass for the first time since receiving it to check what seat she had been assigned. 
“ where are you sitting?” The question came from Ingrid who was walking in front of them. 
“ I have B47,” her answer came put a lot more calm than the woman felt as she scanned the seats to find her own. 
“ That's good, Mapi and I are right in front of you,” As she was answering, the Norwegian stopped and picked up her bag to place it in the overhead bin, which told Rosalie that they had reached their seats. She walked the few steps that separated her from her seat, only to come face to face with the woman that had been occupying her mind for the last few days. 
Suddenly, Rosalie’s anxiety found a new target to spiral about. A hand on her shoulder pulled the photographer out of her thoughts. 
“Are you ok? We can sit together if you want? I have a few movies downloaded on my tablet. Mapi can sit with Alexia.” Ingrid asked, smiling softly at the brunette. Rosalie appreciated the dark haired girl but there's one thing that woman hated more than flying, and it was  pity. She knew that they only wanted to help her but she couldn’t help but feel like they were pitying her and she didn't want to appear weak in front of her new team, which is why she politely declined, thanking the couple and placing her belongings in the bin on top of her seat. 
The comotion caught the attention of the blond captain who had not seen who was prepared to sit next to her. She was more than surprised to see the photographer standing in the alley with a nervous small playing on her lips. 
“ Hey,”
“Hola,” Alexia said smiling, picking up her bag from the seat next to her. She sat down next to the blond and closed her eyes to try to calm herself before take off. 
Looking at the brunette, Alexia felt a strange sense of protectiveness wash over her. She wanted to make the brunette feel better, make that smile that takes her breath away appear on the photographer’s soft features. A few seats away, she could see Lucy watch them with a worried expression which Alexia answered with a reassuring smile. She would not let the brunette spiral. 
Surprisingly, Alexia was not the first one to speak. “ I am sorry if I overstepped during the shooting. I didn’t want to male you feel uncomfortable.” She said, eyes still closed and head thrown back. If she was to sit with the blond for this trip, might as well try to make it a little less awkward. 
“ What do you mean?”
“ I don’t know, I just  don’t want you to think that I’m probing your personal life.”
“ No, no I did not think that, do not worry,” the footballer took a second to think about what she was going to say next. She was aware of her own behaviour towards the photographer. The woman made her nervous and she felt like with the brunette, she did not need to put on a controlled facade like with the rest of the media team, and that scared the Ballon d’Or winner. Alexia hated feeling like she wasn’t in complete control of herself, so the easiest solution in her mind was simply to keep her distances. But staying away from the brunette did not appease her curiosity. “ I am very sorry if I made you feel this way. I appreciate your presence Rosalia.” 
The blond’s small confession made Rosalie slightly relax, enough for a small smile to escape her lips. She turned her head towards Alexia, who felt a warm feeling take place at the sight. “ I appreciate your presence as well.” 
The plane jolted, signaling the brunette, who had momentarily forgotten where she was, that they would be taking off very soon. She quickly grabbed the arm rest and panic flooded brain. Alexia, who had seen the brunette deteriorate, did the first thing that came to her mind. She grabbed the hand that was gripping the arm rest and held it with her own. She reached with her other hand and gently turned the photographer’s face towards her. Green met Hazel and the brunette was instantly captured by the depth of the footballer’s gaze. 
“You’re ok, hey look at me, breathe with me ok?” The blond took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her lips. The brunette followed the footballer’s lead, her eyes never straying from Alexia’s. “ bien, lo estás haciendo muy bien”
Alexia’s words ignited a small flame at the pit of the photographer’s stomach which successfully calmed some of the anxiety, but replaced it with an odd feeling that the French-Canadian was simply not ready to face yet. 
“ Here take this, it'll help with the pressure,” the captain pulled out a pack of gum and popped two pieces in Rosalie’s hand. The first bite surprised the photographer who made a face that pulled a chuckle from the footballer. 
“ What kind of psycho chews cinnamon gum?”
“Hey it’s good don’t be mean,” the woman answered with a hurt expression. She could see that Rosalie had calmed down quite a bit, but the deadly grip she still had on the blond’s hand showed her just how sacred the photographer was. Suddenly, they could feel the plane gain some speed and the wheel lifting off the ground. The brunette’s gaze shifted quickly towards the small window as panic clouded her eyes.
“ no, no sigue mirándome” With her hand still on Rosalie’s face, she drew the brunette closer still. Only a few inches separating the two. Rosalie could smell Alexia’s perfume, something sweet, like strawberries. She smelled like summer, it was intoxicating. She didn’t understand what the blond had said but it did not matter, since as soon as her gaze met hers, the blond smiled sweetly and Rosalie forgot once again where she was. 
“ Tell me one of your happiest memories,” The French-Canadian was surprised by the blond’s question. She had gone from ignoring the photographer to taking care of her during takeoff. She knew that Alexia was simply trying to distract her, but the curiosity she could see shining through her eyes made the brunette realize that maybe, the football player didn’t hate her after all. 
“ My first triathlon, it would have to be one of the most meaningful things in my life.” She answered.
“ Tell me about it, si?” 
“ It was a few years ago, my uncle loved triathlons. He used to do one every summer. He also volunteered as a photographer for the races. When I got older I would volunteer with him and he used to say that I would be a great triathlete if I wanted.” She said, smiling at the memory. 
“ He knew that my football days were over since I had gotten injured and needed surgery on my ankle. He said that once I’d be on my feet again I should give it a try. But I used to think that I would hate running, it was the part I hated the most during training.” Rosalie’s expression darkened. 
“When he died, I thought that it would be a good way to honour him in a way, the training was so hard. I had never swum before and my cardio wasn’t great coming back from injury.” She took a deep breath and her gaze left Alexia’s to shift to their intertwined fingers. 
“ But the rush of crossing the finish line was electric. It felt like I made him proud.” She looked back up only to see the captain's face lighting up along with hers. 
A few seats in front of the two, Lucy was witnessing the whole thing along with Keira. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing. In the time they had known her they had never seen her be so relaxed on a plane, nor being so physically close with someone she had just met. She had always been a bit weird about physical touch, it had taken a while before she started to relax whenever the English women hugged her. But at this moment, hand in hand and only a few inches separating their faces, the photographer looked comfortable, happy almost. 
The sound indicating that you could take the seat belts off pulled the two women out of their little bubble. Realizing that she was still gripping the footballer’s hand, Rosalie slowly untangled her fingers from Alexia’s and slightly pulled away from her. 
“Thank you for distracting me,” 
“My pleasure, I am always happy to know more about you Rosalia” The footballer turned around and pulled out her headphones from her case. Rosalie, still surprised by the blond’s statement, put one headphone back in her ear, letting the other one dangle in on her chest and closed her eyes, listening to the calming sound of her music, all the while keeping an ear out in case anything happened. 
A few minutes passed, not much could be heard around. Everyone was either on their phones or had put a movie on their screen. Rosalie could see from the space between seats that Mapi and Ingrid were snuggled up and watching The Lion King on their tablet. An intense shuffling sound pulled her attention away from their screen to see Alexia intensely searching for something in her bag.
“ Ah mierda , where are they?” She sounded frustrated enough for the brunette to lean in to see.
“ Are you ok?”
“ Si, I think I did not bring my headphone charger and they just died,” The blond said frustrated. 
“ Here,” The brunette took her headphone that was resting on her chest and offered it to the footballer. “ we can share if you’d like, I’m not using them both.” She said smiling. 
“ You don’t mind?” 
“Of course not, it’s the least I can do after you helped me like that.” She said, getting closer so the wire wouldn’t pull her other headphone out. “ What do you usually listen to?” 
“ You can leave on what you were listening to, I just don’t like working without music.” The blond said, pulling out her laptop. Rosalie pressed play again and the soft piano song started again in her ear. After a moment, the blond stopped typing and spoke again. 
“ This is nice, very calm, what is it called?” 
“ This is Interlude by this group called London Grammar. The singer’s voice is so powerful, it’s one of my favourite groups.” she said, happy to share her music with the blond.
“ Good, I will look them up then.” The blond went back to her work, softly humming to the music in her ear. Meanwhile, Rosalie was starting to feel like her lack of sleep and intense morning run were slowly taking a toll on her body. Alexia’s calm and grounding presence, along with her perfume that flooded her senses every time she took a breath allowed the photographer to relax enough for her eyelids to become heavy. Slowly her whole body became heavy and her head lolled to the side, resting gently on Alexia’s shoulder. 
At the contact, the footballer went rigid, but relaxed as soon as she realized that the photographer had finally succumbed to sleep, after being on edge all morning.  Knowing she could not work without disturbing the brunette, Alexia closed her laptop and relaxed in her seat, letting the soft music guide her towards sleep as well.
A/N: feedback is appreciated
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xwingsandohs · 1 year
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‘Haunted Beauty’ | Spencer Reid
prompt: ‘Person A likes to sketch, and B catches them sketching, and asks what they are drawing. Person A had been drawing B, so they stutter out an excuse while slamming their sketchbook closed.’
word count: 2.3k
content warnings?: none. fluff
a/n: this is the beginning of a renaissance where i come back to tumblr. bare with me while i reformat stuff and checkout my recent posts if ya can
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When you reach eleven days without being called out to the field for a case, there’s a lull in the BAU that leaves everyone bored and irritable.
Morgan sits at his corner desk twiddling his pen, spinning on his chair and occasionally ripping up small pieces of paper to aim at someone’s (usually Reid’s) head. His aim is terrible, only because the small, rolled-up balls weigh so little, so you can watch with suppressed giggles until Reid finally notices his game. A hit to the head leads to an irritated “Hey!” - While you and Morgan laugh openly.
Morgan walks over to ruffle the messy hair of your colleague and picks up the small mess he’s left on the floor around him- Spencer shuts the small notebook he’d been working in at the disruption.
You spin around on your chair to see Emily not-so-subtly looking for cheap flights on her laptop- one of her favourite ways to guarantee her time-off is approved is by booking the trip before she even puts in the request. There’s no need for the efforts really, Hotch has never denied a PTO request since your jobs are so demanding, though it doesn’t hurt to be sure.
JJ comes up behind Emily waving an empty mug, asking if she wants another coffee too. She nods, groans into a “God, yes please.” - before JJ begins to ask about her vacation plans and where she hopes to go, pointing at her computer.
Coffee sounds like a fantastic idea, so you stand from your chair and do a lazy spin towards Morgan - “Yes please, mama.” - and taking the empty cup from Spencer’s extended hand too before he even gets the chance to ask. You smile at him warmly- and before you even get a chance to lean over and see what he’s been working on, he’s slammed his notebook shut again and said “Actually, I could do with a break too, I’ll join you.”
You nod and shrug acceptingly, and Spencer jogs across to JJ when she shouts to make enough for everyone, and grabs the two mugs from her hand as well. “Thanks, Spence.”
It takes you only a minute to prep the coffee, replacing the filter and dumping in some grounds and Spencer has swooped in to fill up the water jug before you get the chance. You thank him, and watch as he turns to the sink in the small kitchenette, flicks the tap on and watches as the water fills its container.
He’s wearing a comfortable-looking navy cardigan, it’s well-fitting and you’re acutely aware of how he’s allowed his own sense of style to come through in his working wardrobe over his years in the BAU. You allow yourself an indulgent look at your co-worker while his back is to you, grinning slightly as you enjoy the view.
“How’s the case files?” He asks as he finishes loading the machine and presses the button to let the coffee drip. His hands glide in their motions after so long of using the machine most days.
“I finished all my consults, now it’s just an endless pile of cold cases to keep me busy.” You drag out a few vowels as you speak, teetering close to yawning in exasperation but the easy nights at home have kept you well-rested.
“Me too.” He shrugs, gently pushing the tub of sugar closer to the mugs to use when the coffee has finished.
“What are you making notes on?” You ask, and lean your body comfortably against the countertop.
“Notes?” He scrunches his face.
“You’ve been scribbling in your notebook for the past half hour.” “Oh!”
Realisation washes over his face, and you wonder if there’s a reason for his unusually cloudy brain. You laugh just once and raise an eyebrow in confusion at him.
“Nothing in particular, just some musings to keep me busy.” He shrugs.
There’s an old metal tin sitting on the side, some cookies that an agent had made and brought in for everyone to take from. You reach across and open it, looking closely for the biggest one before taking it. You snap it in half and present the biggest piece to the man beside you.
“Thanks.” He utters, before taking an indulgent bite.
“What kind of musings are keeping Dr Reid busy on this fine Thursday afternoon?” You ask with a glint in your eye.
He shrugs, and begins to mumble through his cookie-filled mouth before pausing to actually swallow before he speaks. His action makes you giggle. “I was asked if I’d like to do a guest lecture on profiling for the FBI Academy and I’m not really sure if I want to do it.”
“Why not?” You ask sincerely.
“I think a lot of my stories about the job might change their mind about working here.” He smiles, you both laugh, and then he shakes his head. He’s not wrong. “No, I’m kidding. I’m just not sure if I’m ready for doing something like that alone, I think there’s a lot of pressure for lecturers to be engaging and informative, and I tend to go off on a tangent.”
“I love your tangents.” You reply honestly and with a smile, which he returns appreciatively, and a little rosy in the cheeks. “But I know what you mean, I’m a profiler for a living but I don’t think I could get on a stage and give a good lecture on it.”
“I, um,” He smiles wistfully and nods his head as he speaks, something he frequently does. “I’d love to run my own classes at the Academy or maybe Georgetown one day, but I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility yet.”
He’d be a fantastic professor, you know this. And you’re sure he’d have a lecture full of hopeful psychology fanatics just like you both once were. “Maybe a guest lecture is a good trial run, even if it’s a little out of your comfort zone.”
“Yeah.” He smiles, then begins to pour out the coffees. Each mug is almost identical- white or navy with some variation of the FBI logo on, but somehow he knows who’s is who’s, and leaves enough room for cream in cups that need it. “Which case would you choose?”
“For a guest lecture?” He nods. “Um…”
It’s difficult, while every case is important you know that a balance needs to be found in a case chosen for an Academy lecture- it can’t be too standard, it wouldn’t show off why your jobs are so important or might even struggle to keep the audience interested. But you can’t choose one of your worst cases either, some of them can be particularly heavy even for you all to think back on.
“Maybe the zodiac imitator?” You suggest with a shrug. “You can go through how you deduced it wasn’t the real zodiac, looking for messages in online articles, Garcia going through MENSA records, you could even talk about navigating all the reporters and public attention.”
“Y’know, I was thinking about that one.” He agrees and you tap his arm playfully. “The trainees always enjoy the imitator cases.”
“As much as you can enjoy this kinda thing, right?” You laugh humorlessly. Spencer knows everyone’s coffee preference off by heart, you know that, but it still makes you feel a little hot when he perfects your drink and holds it out to you.
“Maybe ‘interested in’ would be a better way to put it.” He corrects himself with a similar chuckle. You nod in agreement.
You both take a small moment to enjoy a sip of your drinks before taking the rest of the mugs to the members of your team- Morgan grins at Reid as he passes his mug, and JJ and Emily thank you when you bring their drinks too.
“What do you think,” JJ calls you by name. “Where would you go for a beach holiday?”
“Beach?” You say and laugh lightly. “Wherever Morgan’s not going.”
They both grin and laugh, and you hear Emily begin to say “Y’know I’ve seen those pictures of Morgan’s Jamaican resort…”
You head back to your own desk, you have Reid right in front of you and Morgan at a table across from you both, it makes for easy conversation and sharing of the sweet treats you bring in when you try to hide them from the rest of the team- more for you that way. Every so often you stop on your way to work and fill up a pick ‘n’ mix, you know by now that Spencer’s favourites are the chocolate jazzles and Morgan loves anything sour.
Emily shouts for Morgan to help her find a holiday destination, so he shakes his head playfully and taps you on the shoulder as he walks past you.
The coffee is perfect as you sip it, just slightly hot, not too sweet and not too strong. You cradle it between two hands as you step past your desk and stop in front of Spencer’s, leaning gently against the table. He looks up at you, mid sip, and raises his eyebrows to ask what you need from him.
“Can I see what you���ve been writing?” You ask innocently, pointing at the small brown book that sits central on his desk. A pen sticks out of the top of it to hold the page he was using, and he seems unusually shocked by your question.
You’re profilers, though Spencer is a surprisingly good liar, you have a feeling he wasn’t pondering a guest lecture for the Academy.
“There’s nothing important in there.” He shakes his head and instinctively goes to pull it out of reach.
“C’mon, Reid!” You giggle, putting your coffee cup down in a space on his desk. “I just wanna know what’s been keeping you occupied. You’ve been scribbling in it all afternoon, so secretively too.”
“I-I’m not-” He pauses, stuttering and puts his own mug down and out of reach before pulling the pen from between the pages of his notebook. He leaves the brown pad where it is. “being secretive, why do you want to see?”
“I’m just curious.” You say, bowing your head in apology. “I didn’t mean to pry, I’ll just leave you to it.”
“N-no, wait,” He stops you, seeing your small change in demeanour and immediately washing with guilt. Your body language changes just slightly, not quite closed off but a little less open and maybe a smidge of your own guilt for possibly upsetting him. He’s not upset, and he certainly does want you to be. “I’m sorry. I-I’m just, um,”
You turn back to him, offering another apologetic look. It’s not necessary, and he holds the notebook tightly in his hand, looking at it while he thinks. “Would you like to see?”
“Only if you want me to.”
“Why not?” He hums, gently passing the small brown book to you. You take it, just as gently, curling a finger into the gap created by the pen to hold the open page.
The brown book is worn on the edges, creased from opening so many times and his recent page is over half way through. You’ve seen him scribble in it frequently, and you’ve seen the way he slips it into his satchel at the end of the day- it’s important to him, you know that.
You open the page and it’s a drawing, a sketch in black biro. You’ve seen some of Reid’s drawings before- wavy lines, shrunken eyes and wiry hair, it’s his own unique style of illustration and you love his hidden passion for it. His drawings have been of imaginary characters, animals, even halloween decorations; they have a haunted aspect to them and you admire his talent for capturing the way he sees the world. This one is adorned with small wavy lines bouncing off the central figure.
“It’s-” This one you recognise, an unhidden smile and the shape of the hair. “-me. You drew me?”
“Um… yeah.” He smiles, but it doesn’t hide his nerves as he shifts in his chair while you look over the lines he’s made.
It’s today, you know the top you’re wearing today and one wiggly line for the chair you’ve been perched on. Your hair is styled as it is today, but you haven’t smiled so brightly today, you haven’t had the reason. That part, you realise, is from his memory. You like that he thinks of you as a happy person- the lines show that too, they add a bright, liveliness to the illustration of you.
There’s small flowers on the page adjacent- lavender, daisies, chrysanthemums, with what you assume is the scientific name underneath. They dot across the page like a printed pattern, but with the handwriting you know of Spencer all around. Underneath the drawing of you, though you’re not sure if it’s meant to describe both pages, it says “Beautiful”.
“Wow, Spence- I mean- Spencer,” You stutter over your words, grinning and feeling flushed at the thought of him spending his afternoon drawing you so dearly. “It’s amazing, you’re really good at art, y’know.”
“Thanks.” He replies sweetly, face unabashedly pink and smiling from ear to ear. “It’s um, really tempting to draw you when you’re sitting right across from me. I wanted to try and capture your smile but my drawings have given you more of a… haunting beauty.”
You don’t know what to say, still smiling and stuttering over nothing at all as you look over to him, to the drawing, then him again. His pride in his work makes his face light up in a way you rarely see on the job. “A-and Spence is fine, if you like.”
“Thanks for letting me see, Spence.” You say, dancing lightly around the last word, an affectionate nickname you know is only reserved for the special few. It feels good to be special to him. “I’ve never been very good at drawing.”
“I don’t think skill matters when you’re passionate about what you’re trying to recreate on the page.” He says with a simple smile, then bites down on his bottom lip to stop it from being too bright.
“You think so?” “Yeah.”
a/n: and just for funsies…
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faithshouseofchaos · 3 months
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Our little secret— Dad!Logan Sargent x reader
Tagged- @ashy-kit @astraeaworld @67-angelofthelordme-67 @alwayzbeenale @amatswimming @a-casual-romantic @bblouifford @badassturtle13 @barcelonaloverf1life @bbtoni @charlesf1leclerc @crashingwavesofeuphoria @clowngirlsstuff @dark-night-sky-99 @williamsracinggf @dudenhaaa27 @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @faithsotherhouseofchaos @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @hrts4scarr @ironcowboycopnickel @jeffs77 @kimiracing07 @lollypop90907 @loganshouseofworship @lightdragonrayne @laura-naruto-fan1998 @moss-on-tmblr @natailiatulls07 @norrisleclercf1 @omgsuperstarg @oconswrld @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @scotlynaurora @taylorswifts-cardigan @toasttt11 @lipringlrh @uluvjay @vivwritesfics @vellicora @venusisnothere
I forgot to mention This is something I used to do regularly with my bio dad before he and my mom divorced 😭 it was our little secret but I’m 90% sure that my mom knew
Logan’s favorite thing to do was go fishing with his daughter Hadley. The two of them got up early in the morning and got ready for a long day of fishing.
“Are you ready to go to Hadley?” Logan asked his six year old daughter.
“Yes daddy I’m ready” Hadley said standing up.
“Alright boogie go give your mama a kiss and then we’ll be on our way” Logan says ruffling the hair on his daughter's head.
“Daddy stop it” Hadley says, swatting away her father’s hand.
“My oh my isn’t somebody grumpy today” Logan replies playfully tickling the little girl. Hadley starts to laugh uncontrollably.
“Daddy stop it” Hadley exclaims, still laughing and out of breath.
“Only if you give me a kiss” Logan says, holding out his cheek.
“That’s my little girl,” Logan says as he kisses his daughter on the forehead. “Don’t you ever forget daddy loves you more than anything in this world.”
“I love you too daddy” Hadley says snuggling up to her father wrapping her arms tightly around him.
“Alright go give mama a kiss so we can go” Logan tells his daughter.
Hadley jumps off her fathers lap and walks over to her mother. she wraps her arms around her mothers neck giving her a kiss, “I love you mommy” she says. Her mother smiles and gives her daughter a kiss back.
The two of them leave the house to begin their day of fishing. Before getting to the lake Logan stopped to buy some worms and a fruit punch flavored bug juice
After purchasing the bait and drinks they head to the lake and begin to get set up for the day of fishing in the boat. Logan casts his line into the water as Hadley takes out her lucky charm. She rubs the cat's head and whispers to it “Please let us catch lots of fish today”.
After a while of casting and retrieving his line Logan feels a nibble. So he begins to reel in his line quickly and a fish jumps out of the water landing on the boat landing on Hadley's lap, “Wow! Look what we caught!” Logan exclaims excitedly.
“Oh wow daddy! What do we do with it?” Hadley asks, holding the fish carefully as it squirms in her hands.
“Well we should probably get the hook out” Logan says softly trying hard not to hurt the fish. He grabs the fish carefully by the tail and tries to get the hook out, “Just hold it very still ok love” he says to Hadley.
After careful work he manages to remove the hook without seriously hurting the fish much to the delight of Hadley. Logan then throws the fish back into the water letting it swim away unharmed.
“Good job daddy! That was very nice of you to be gentle” Hadley says very proudly. She gives her father a kiss on the cheek and goes back to her lucky charm rubbing its head.
“Thanks honey” Logan replies ruffling up her hair, “Alright let’s cast the line out again and keep trying”.
After throwing the bait into the water the two of them once again patiently wait for a nibble. As they wait they chat about nothing in particular just having a great time and just bonding together as parent and child.
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luveline · 9 months
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could we get more bombshell!reader and spencer please?
for you lovely ♡ fem!reader
"Hi, gorgeous." 
Spencer should've known it was you from the soft, sweet-hinted smell of your perfume, but he was distracted by the book in his hands. "Hey, Y/N," he says.
"You realise you've stopped walking? And that we're both quite late?" 
Spencer blows out a confused breath, looking over his shoulders. He'd known where he was when he started but obviously overestimated his ability to walk and read at the same time. "I do now. Thank you." 
"Oh, you're welcome," you say, voice like angora silk. "Let's walk together, yeah? That way you won't get lost again." 
Spencer stammers at your fingers slotting between his, your palm as soft as your voice. Your touch, even, is soft. You curl your fingers around his like he's something precious and the two of you set off together toward the elevator for the BAU floor. "I'm sorry I didn't text you back last night, I was catching up on my beauty sleep, something you clearly don't need to do, and when I saw it this morning I thought I'd rather hear it in person." 
"No, don't be sorry, I knew it was a long shot," he says, momentarily distracted by the (frankly insane) feeling of your hands swinging in tandem. You're probably the last person alive he wants a sorry from. You're beautiful, and you're always sweet, always interested in what he has to say.
You prove it. "I was sorry I missed it, Spence, I thought the whole lactic acid theory sounded interesting. Think you can squeeze it in before the round table?" 
Spencer gives it a try. It's impressive how he manages to focus on two things at once, freaking out about your hand in his —so casual and so unreal— while explaining the twisting science of muscle soreness and fatigue. He nearly doesn't notice you pulling him from the elevator and into the office, but then he gets that sixth sense feeling like there are eyes on him, and he pulls his gaze from your (again, frankly insanely) pretty face to investigate. 
Working with his team, the agents in the BAU office have gotten good at subtlety, but half don't even try to pretend they aren't looking at you. You, in your fancy coat with your cute handbag, and Spencer, ragged in a cardigan and shoes with worn soles, holding hands. You rub the back of his hand with your thumb, your usual sunny smile flickering.
"Sorry," Spencer says. "Uh, sorry, I didn't… People are looking."
"I know." You take your hand from his. "It's not professional, huh?" You force a smile, trying to seem unbothered, as though this whole holding hands thing doesn't mean more to you.
Spencer hates to play the profiler card, but it's what he is. He knows you genuinely wanted to hold his hand from the twitch of your index finger alone. 
You've always had a way about you. You're confident and fun no matter how many knocks you take, but you're serious when you need to be and a brilliant agent. Spencer can count on one hand the amount of times he's seen that confidence knocked. He hates that it's because of something he did. 
"I mean, it's not hurting anyone," he says unsurely, trying hard to keep his attention solely on you. 
Your eyes widen, your perfectly powdered face alight. It knocks the air out of him. "Until Hotch tells me off." 
"I'll defend you," he says. It's supposed to be a joke but his words come out honey thick, practically sticky with promise. 
Spencer offers you his hand again. As soon as you take it, he starts pulling you with more confidence than he feels across the office and up to the conference room. 
"Oh, come on, Y/N," Morgan says with a grin when he sees you both, tethered and smiling as you make your way to your adjacent seats. "You're torturing my boy." 
Hotch raises his eyebrows just a touch. 
"It's fine," Spencer says. "I asked her to."
Hotch's eyebrows rise higher. He stares for a moment before glancing back to the case file. "Well, fraternisation between employees isn't permitted. But I'm more worried that you're both late. Let's get back to the case details, please, JJ." 
As much permission as you're going to get, Spencer squeezes your fingers under the desk. You can't hold in a laugh. The team shares a moment of disbelief at the disruption. 
"Spencer Reid," Emily drawls, breaking the short silence with a smirk, "you rake."
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walli3darl1ng · 1 year
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Had a few of you ask me for part four so here it is!
What? You all thought I wasn’t gonna update?! 🫠🧍🏻
Anygays, Enjoy!
Doll maker!reader x Wally Darling
In which reader is a doll maker and gets asked to freshen up Wally Darling before it’s big show, but the cutie is falling in love and will do anything to have you.
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Morning quick arrives and you’re laying on your back, arms out and letting out soft but deep snort. It was a peaceful and comfortable state.
Wally, however, was face down onto his stomach and hanging off the bed, ready to fall—
*thud*
“I'm up! I’m..up.” You groan. Blinking away the sleep, you reach up and rub your eyes glancing around before finding Wally on the ground. “Oh, hey Wally.”
There’s a dramatically long pause before it hits you like a ton of bricks and immediately picks him up from the floor, almost tripping and falling yourself. “Wally?!”
“How did you get here?” You set him on your lap and dust him off, giving a once over to see if he’s damaged. To your relief—he’s perfect. “Did I really bring you back with me last night?”
Wally was panicking a bit, he’s not calling you stupid, but is hoping your mind will convince you that you indeed brought him in your room last night and not him coming down himself.
He sees you shrug your shoulders and set him against the headboard of your bed, holding his hand. “Okay, well, I’ll just get ready and we can finally put your outfit on. Next I’ll work on your shoes.”
Wally lets gravity give his answer and tilts his head to the side in response getting a giggle from you. What a unique sound, he adores it. He wants to hear it again. He feels so extremely safe that he gets nervous when you leave him and walk into the bathroom and close the door.
It was an awful feeling, almost like feeling the walks slowly but swiftly cave in and feeling time grow excruciatingly long the harder he stares at the door. After a lifetime—it was only a few minutes in reality but the 12 apple shortie needed to be dramatic—you come out all freshen up but your hair is still messy.
“Much better, Let’s get dressed after breakfast,” you smile and walk over to Wally and pick him up automatically wrapping his arms around your neck and pulling him closer. “How’s that sound, Wally?”
Sounds wonderful. Was he waking up and getting ready for the day wrong all his existence? Sure he wakes up to Home but it doesn’t feel the same, it’s different. Why? You walk over to the kitchen and set Wally on the counter, sending him a smile before walking away and starting to make your morning drink.
“I did a little research last night and I found a lot of things about you, little one.” After making your drink and making a hot drink you set it in front of Wally and wrapped his hands around it. “For one, you really enjoy hot drinks even though you won’t drink it but the warmth is nice isn’t it?”
Wally is starting to think this is all a dream, how can someone be all he ever desires?
“Oh and I found out you like apples so I made this little scented pouch you can carry with you, it smells like sweet apples.” You show him the small pouch with a smile.
After breakfast and you just take Wally everywhere you go while cleaning a bit you start to head upstairs to your studio. You sat Wally and started to dress him up in his new, clean outfit. You also put the small pouch inside one of his pockets of his cardigan. You then stand Wally up to get a look at him. “You’re perfect.”
Is he? He is perfect, if you say so he is.
“Oh! Well almost. Hold on,” you pull him closer and look through drawers before finding what you needed. You pull away and wrap a solid red tie and make a bow. “Now you’re perfect. All that's left is fixing your shoes and making a travel box.”
It’s been a few days, you were done getting measurements and the wood for the box as well as other things to decorate it with. In the span of days you’ve grown attached, you put all your energy into Wally but this project is making you weak. Like your energy is getting absorbed more with each passing day but you can’t stop being around him. You’ll take him everywhere you go.
Wally has learned a lot with the help of Celine, they will tell him all sorts of things. He learned that humans—like his doll maker recharge by sleeping, where their body and mind relax. That’s why you didn’t hear him when he snuck into your room—I mean, when you brought him to your room.
Celine has also been telling him how to absorb energy, they does it to make you tired and actually take care of yourself by not overworking but they’ve noticed that Wally does it constantly and that can be a problem. Wally has been more persistent on information, asking specific questions and wanting a detailed answer, most of which Celine can’t answer them.
“So it’s possible for them to come to my world physically?”
“W-well not physically but spiritually.” Celine explains softly. They already regret telling Wally this.
“What’s it called again?”
“It’s called ‘shifting’. It means that when the mind and spirit are relaxed and in-sync the spirit can detach from the physical body and go wherever it pleases.”
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grimesgirll · 3 months
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the first time you saw rick in his constable uniform, you thought you were going to have to go to your room to cool down.
clean shaven, hair trimmed, iron pressed uniform clad rick grimes was a sight to behold. having known him just as he was a mere week or two ago, you wouldn't have expected him to be an officer of the law.
truth be told, you found that version of rick wildly hot. he was passionate. he was protective of not just you but judith, carl, the group. purpose looked great on him however it manifested.
but you also loved this domestic version of rick. watching him feed judith at a marble countertop was surreal. you hadn't known him when he was a clean-cut suburban dad, just as a survivor. rick really brought out your thing for men in uniforms though. you'd thought it was a one off thing when you'd hit on a state game warden after he came to dispatch the deer you hit with your car in the past but constable rick had him beat.
you never thought you'd see rick in a tie. you think about how he would've looked at your sorority formal as he brushes past you in the kitchen, immediately knowing what's up when your eyes don't leave him as you start to plate the brownies you just pulled out of the oven.
"like what you see?"
you smile. "yeah." you hold up a freshly cut brownie. "rick, can you try a bite? let me know if they're still hot? i don't wanna burn my tongue."
rick takes a step closer to lean in and take a mouthful of your brownie. "mmm," he hums. "delicious. not too hot. not for you." you gleam at the praise. "thank you, darlin'," he whispers huskily to you.
"you're welcome, officer."
you watch something shift in his eyes as he pops the rest of the brownie into his mouth. "i thought you didn't like cops."
"i never said that," you attest. "i've never said a bad word about a constable in my life," you swear, putting the plate of brownies down to step closer to rick, who begins to play with the buttons on your cardigan.
"really?"
"mhmm." you run your hands along his tie. "i enjoy the uniform."
"do you?"
you nod, hands working up to his chestnut curls. "did they give you handcuffs?"
rick chuckles at you. "those are for official constable business, not playin' around."
"i'm not playing around," you whisper in his ear. "what's it take to get a girl arrested around here?"
not much apparently because all you had to do was start pulling on his tie to get dragged to the upstairs bedroom and thrown on the bed. with a hand cuffed to the bedpost, all you could do was squirm as alexandria's newest constable stripped you from the waist down.
"how many do you want?" rick asks once he's gotten your pants down and he's running his hand on your ass.
you shrug. "you choose, officer."
"bad choice," he remarks and pulls you over his lap to get a better angle. "actually, i think you'll like this."
smack!
you wince. you can't remember the last time you were spanked but you know you're gonna remember this for sure, if not purely by the memory, then by the handprints that were already forming on your plush ass as rick gives you another round.
as you twist and writhe in his grasp, rick starts to get impatient, wishing you were squirming on a specific part of him. he lowers his lips to your ear. "are you ready to be a good girl?" he asks.
you nod your head up and down. "i've always been your good girl," you breathe, slightly tensing when you feel his hand on your bottom again.
"good."
with that, he flips you back face down onto the bed and you hear the metallic clank of his belt buckle. it's not ten seconds later that you feel him against your wet hole. as you feel the cold air on, you realize how wet you are; rick's behind you drawing circles in your slick with his dick while you whine into the duvet.
"rick," you start, voice low and needy.
"what do you want, sweetheart?"
"i want you, rick." you answer with an exhale. "i'm so wet for you."
"i can see, honey."
"then fuck me!"
"maybe ask the constable nicely."
you can hear the smugness in his voice and it goes straight to your cunt.
"constable grimes," you croon. "can you please fuck me?"
you don't have time to hear his answer because the wind is knocked out of you - there it is. you're knocked halfway up the bed as the constable fucks into you roughly.
"how do you like that, sweetheart?" he inquires, breath warm against your neck as he keeps pushing all the right buttons inside of you.
"mhmmm," you murmur. "feel so full."
"good."
you were so developing a thing for men in uniform.
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todorokies · 7 months
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A LONG WALK - satoru gojo & suguru geto
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✩࿐ a midnight summer stroll with your companions stirs certain emotions regarding self doubts & nostalgia . . .
contents: sfw, polygamous satosugu x reader (can be perceived as platonic or romantic), gn!reader, fluff & angst with some comfort, 1.3k words
a/n: based off of this fanart … pls support me by reblogging my work !!
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the chilled summer breeze flows melodically through the air and finds its way swirling into your skin, arising small goosebumps on your exposed arms. you should’ve taken suguru’s advice into consideration by wearing a light cardigan for your midnight outing instead of leaving with a simple tank top.
albeit taken back by the breeze, you couldn’t be truly bothered by it, allowing the gentle wind to cascade your face caressing you softly like an embrace. with closed eyes, enjoyable fragments of your childhood flashes before your eyes with each rippling gust of currency.
your mother taking you to your first hanabi festival, getting your face painted with unique spiral patterns, the colourful loud sparks of light illuminating the sky as children’s laughs and adults’ excited clamours follows along with each firework.
your chest begins to rapidly ache by the supposedly fond memory, causing palpitations on your fragile heart. your innocence got unrightfully taken away at such a young age being forced to slave the rest of your life away to the occupation of a sorcerer, something you still haven’t come to terms with.
despite the roaring traffic in the centre of the city, a particular voice is able to pull your mind out of self imprisonment.
“a penny for your thoughts?” satoru appears standing by your side with two popsicles in one hand —one that is wrapped and the other unwrapped, presumably his.
you playfully scoff, reaching for the wrapped popsicle and satoru takes a seat next to you on the bench; your face must’ve been in clear discomfort for him to ask. “keep the penny, it’s nothing serious.” you attempt to wave off his concerns.
he nudges at your elbow, “if it’s causing you to look like you’re going through a midlife crisis on a park bench then it’s definitely serious, cmon spill it.” his words are lighthearted but voice is woven with sympathy.
“where’s suguru?” you dodge his inquiry “and you got me the shittiest flavour, really? nobody likes grape, you should know by now i’m a cherry type of person.”
satoru throws a complex glance your way but decides to not push it any farther, “he went to the convenience store to pick up some ingredients. i think he wanted to cook us beef stir-fry this time? not sure though.”
you hum in acknowledgment finding it a bit strange how he doesn’t press you for more information or your popsicle flavour statement. comfortable silence soon falls amongst you two, the frequent honking of cars and chatting of civilians keeps the streets lively. it’s a nice reminder that you’re never truly alone in such a big city as tokyo.
but alas, the warmth the eccentric city provided could never be enough to rebuild the wall of blissful ignorance you once had as a child. having to lick over the fresh wounds that reopen every time something triggers the painful truth of your inevitable death that will come from this line of work.
you must’ve been zoned out for quite some time because the grape popsicle began to melt and trickle down your hand landing in droplets on your pants.
“‘toru—” you begin but bite your tongue unaware of where to even start in your pursuit to find answers to calm your erratic mind.
“what does nostalgia feel like to you?” a stupid question indeed, as you watched satoru’s face twist and turn trying to either make sense of it or formulate his answer.
he soon replies, “it usually hits me in the face at the weirdest times, but when it does, it’s a bittersweet feeling that makes me glad i was able to experience it when i did.” he shrugs, licking at his almost-done blue popsicle.
“oh.”
“was that not the answer you were looking for?” he frowns, peering at you through his sunglasses.
“no, it’s not that, whenever i feel nostalgic it’s a gross gut wrenching feeling that seriously makes me ill. i hate it.” you truthfully express yourself.
“well, there’s no right or wrong way of feeling nostalgic, it just stems from how intense you feel about that specific memory.” his words flow casually as if this topic was second nature to him.
you huff, “since when did you become so insightful and wise?” you attempt at a joke to lighten the dull mood.
he laughs. the type of laugh where his snowy white hair bounces rhythmically with each chuckle that emerges from his throat “oh stop that! i’ve always been big brained with knowledge.”
another fit of comfortable silence washes over until you felt the urge to break it, “y’know, sometimes i wish i could live in the past forever… the present is too painful at times.”
satoru demeanour falters as an unfamiliar emotion glistens in his eyes then disappears shortly after. his eyebrows furrow causing creases in the middle, he nibbles at his bottom lip with a visible hurt expression distorting his face, “are me and suguru not enough for you?” he immediately regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.
satoru isn’t religious by any means, but he’d like to thank whoever is higher above for making it possible that you and suguru have crossed paths with him. you both complete him and give him a sense of purpose to continue what he deems he does best at; protecting. satoru prefers to live in the present with his loved ones, not the past. hearing those string of words from you caused a small pit in his stomach to erupt.
your eyes widen, “no! that’s not what i meant—”
“sorry for the long wait, i had trouble deciding if i should buy teriyaki sauce or we should just make it ourselves.” suguru comes into view from the sidewalk with a grocery bag in hand and a popsicle in the other. his eyes dart between you and satoru, already sensing unspoken tension, “everything okay?” he quirks an eyebrow up.
“yup!” satoru responds with obvious faux glee. he stretches his legs then proceeds to get off the bench taking a quick peak in the grocery bag, “took you long enough though, we were gonna turn into skeletons soon.” he flicks suguru’s forehead then scurries off like a mouse farther down the sidewalk to avoid getting his foot stomped on.
you join suguru by his side to journey back to campus. he briefly recalls his sightings that included a newly opened karaoke bar and hydrangeas are finally in bloom having seen them on his way to the store.
“you should talk to him when we get back, let him cool off for a bit,” he refers back to satoru. his minty breath fanning against the shell of your ear, “i will, don’t worry.” you send a tight-lipped smile his way.
the walk back is peaceful. the breeze from before turned into clouds of humidity, grasshoppers chirped loudly replacing the buzzing traffic that has now quieted down, assuming everyone else is calling it a night as well.
suguru takes out his phone to check the time mumbling curses under his breath once he reads three-thirty-five am, “we should hurry back before yaga kills us.”
his words trigger something in you.
“do you think we’ll be able to survive in the long run?” you suddenly blurt out. your voice shakes as you attempt to shove the forming lump in your throat down.
context isn’t provided but suguru has a hunch of what you could be referring to. the air around gets thick and the world stills as he carefully thinks over many ways to respond to the difficult question with a simplified answer.
“i think—” he pauses, and glances over at you to see your glossy eyes reflect in the moonlight and his heart crumbles at the sight.
at the end of the day, you were all still children forced into a wretched society that measures self value to strength and was either discarded by the horrors that walked among this earth or the adults in charge of the hierarchy. 
“i think we should just protect who we can and cherish our possibly limited time together.”
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tags: @tokyeoi @satocidal @yunymphs
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reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated <33
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Text
Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows 4
Warnings: non/dubcon, clashing personalities, exclusion, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: moody boy Curtis Everett x bubbly, plus-size reader
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You vow yourself to confinement. You will not leave your desk for any reason. You even brought a thermos of coffee. The container is a honey brown and the lid has bear ears, an animated face painted on the metal. It makes you smile despite the gloom that clouds you.
You don’t know how it happens. You always mean well but things always end up so wrong. So you’ve determined you’re better off on your own. Minding your own business and getting through the work day without calamity.
It’s lonely. You eat your lunch in your cubicle, watching a crochet video on the small screen of your phone. You still can’t figure out how to get just the right shape for the hippo you’ve been working on. It’s the final piece in your collection; to go along with the giraffe, the elephant, lion, and zebra. With your new job, you haven’t even had the energy to try.
You get back to work, eyes fuzzy as you stare at the spreadsheet. Millennia of human existence and for what? For excel and stale coffee? Is this really progress?
You reign in your wandering mind and work through the numbers. You just want to get through your first week. That will be a feat you can be proud of. You drain the last lukewarm sip from your thermos and pout. You could really use a refill but you will resist. You can’t risk it.
At the end of the day, you sneak out down the stairwell. You’re breathless by the time you reach the bottom, dizzy from the winding levels above. You shake it off and head off. You could use a nice hot bath, those office chairs are really not comfy.
Your night goes by as any does. You get your bath and eat some ramen before tucking into bed and mindlessly scrolling on your phone. You fall asleep with the light on and wake up to the blare of your alarm the next morning. 
It’s Friday! You get up and get dressed. A lilac skirt that buttons up the front and a frilly white blouse on top. You pull on a lemon yellow cardigan and a pair of matching flats. It’s bright and fun! Unlike anything else in that gray office.
You shove one of the pillows from the couch into your bag, the one that looks like a sprinkle donut, and grab your thermos. You race out to catch the bus and throw yourself into the day ahead. You just need to make it to the end and you have the whole weekend ahead of you.
Once at your cubicle, you settle in. You place the donut pillow on the thin cushion of the office chair and kneel on the floor as you work at readjusting the backrest and arms. You get up and plop down, testing the height and swiveling a bit. It’s slightly better.
You roll closer to your desk and boot up for the day. You reach for your pen cup but stop short as you find only the boring Bic sticks that overflow the supply cupboards. Huh?
You reach under your desk and grab your bag. You stir around, certain you careless slid your pen in there. You can’t find it! Your most favourite pen is gone. There’s a tiny penguin at the end and the pen’s body is filled with water and glitter that shimmers and looks like falling snow. Where is it?
Your panic has you searching the empty drawers of the desk and down on your knees crawling around. You don’t find it. You give up as your chest sinks and you mope at your monitor, clicking mindlessly on your Outlook and the company’s shared drive. 
You sit back and uncap your thermos. You take a drink and nearly choke. Oh no! It’s so bitter it leaves your tongue gritty. The filter must’ve split in the machine again. You let out a blech and get up, letting your chair roll back carelessly.
You go down to the break room and dump the coffee down the sink. That’s when you remember you’re not supposed to be in there. Shoot. You look around. It’s empty. You should have time enough to fill your cup.
You go to the machine and pick a pod from the rack. You don’t pay attention to the flavour, you just want coffee. You wait for the machine to grind and claim your cup as the brew stops below the brim. You quickly retreat back to your desk and sit, leaving the lid off the thermos to let it cool.
Ow! Your tailbone hits the thin seat and jars your spine. You get up and look down at the barren cushion. Your pillow is gone. What the heck?
You roll the chair around, thinking maybe you knocked it off when you stood up. It’s not that hard to miss. Nope, it’s gone. 
You look over at Dana as he yawns over a Starbucks cup. She has no donut under her bottom. Who would do that? Who would steal your pillow? You chew your lip and resign yourself to another day of discomfort.
You taste the coffee. Mmm, it must be the dark roast. It’s full-bodied and rich, slightly smoky. You don’t usually go for it, you prefer more caffeine. It might be good for you, you really don’t need the extra jitter.
You plant your elbow beside your keyboard and fall into your work. The office awakens around you. The clack of keys, the clicking of mice, and the low voices that rise and fall over cubicle walls. 
You lean back and check the time. Barely an hour in. You stretch your neck and massage your shoulders as you try to work out the kink of your poor posture. As you do, you sense a shadow approach Dana’s desk. You shift your chair and peek over, quickly wheeling back to your desk to hunch down and hide. It’s him.
“Phillips,” he calls her by her last name, “you still in charge of supplies?”
“Morning, Curtis,” she replies tritely, “what is it? We don’t have budget left for tech upgrades until end of month.”
“Coffee,” he growls, “dark roast.”
You tap your foot nervously. You didn’t know he liked the dark roast. If you did, you wouldn’t have taken the last pod. Maybe you should offer him what you have left… no, you should just leave him be.
“I’ll add it to the list,” Dana acquisces dismissively, “anything else?”
He grunts but doesn’t answer as he pivots on his heel. You peek up above the wall of your cubicle and immediately regret it. His attention is drawn by the movement and his eyes meet yours as his features twist into a scowl. You try to smile and he rolls his eyes before setting his shoulders and striding away.
Oh, you have an idea!
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cookinguptales · 11 months
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(via @goofygooberton)
tbh the one detail I want to talk about most is Guillermo taking off the cardigan that his grandmother gave him before he let Derek bite him.
Like -- him taking off his clothing before letting Derek bite him lends itself well to the sex/virginity metaphor I already talked about, but the fact that Guillermo specifically said that his grandmother got it for him... That opens up such a can of worms.
I want to come at this detail from a couple different angles, actually. That's how important I think it was. I think that the cardigan represents Guillermo's humanity, his family, and his slayer lineage. He wants to take it off -- but he also wants to protect it.
To start with, his humanity. Guillermo's sweaters have always kind of been a symbol of how... unvampiric he is. They're soft, they're cozy, they're not exactly fashionable. He stopped wearing them as often as he started delving into his slayer side and when he started being on more even footing with his vampiric family, but he's gone back to wearing them more often again.
I feel like Guillermo is often trying to Make A Point with his clothing, tbh. He wore smart, effective, professional (and attractive) clothing as a slayer. He wore flashy, expensive clothing to try and show off his power, money, and influence once he started embezzling from the club. But sweaters are his comfort clothes, and as he stops feeling the need to prove himself, he seems to revert back to what makes him most comfortable.
So him insisting on removing his sweater first, again, feels like Guillermo getting out of his comfort zone. It's him purposefully divorcing himself from his humanity before allowing Derek to turn him.
But... he still wants to keep those clothes safe. He still hasn't left humanity behind him all together.
Which brings me to the second point. Family. Guillermo very specifically brings up that this cardigan was given to him by his grandmother, the de facto head of the family. She loves him dearly, and, lbr, has been known to make not-so-subtle statements via her cardigans.
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(Remember the rainbow cardigan at the family dinner? I sure do.)
Guillermo has really struggled with balancing his relationships with his family and his relationships with the vampires. He's in a very fragile place right now where he knows that his family is a danger to the vampires he loves (and vice-versa) and that they would not accept his choice to be a vampire. He literally told them what he wanted and saw it go to absolute shit. But they don't remember that now, so he's been able to maintain this tenuous peace between his two families.
But... has he really thought all this through? He's made the decision to become a vampire, and how will that affect his relationship with his family? The transformation doesn't seem to be working correctly, possibly because of his bloodline, but he's not quite human anymore, either. Is he far enough gone to set off their killing instinct? Hard to say, but I bet we'll find out.
So when Guillermo takes off a cardigan that his grandmother gave him to prevent it from getting stained with blood, it feels like he has chosen to distance himself from his family, but still desperately wants to hold onto what little relationship they might have left. He doesn't want their relationship to be permanently stained.
But I can only assume that his sweater, like every other inch of that room, probably got very bloody indeed.
So... is it a losing battle, trying to keep his relationship with his family safe and blood-free? Is it, like that sweater, doomed to destruction despite his best efforts?
Hard to say!
Finally... the whole slayer thing. The thing that's come between Guillermo, the vampires, and his family for all this time. Guillermo didn't want to be a slayer, but has come around to the realities of his bloodline. But he still doesn't want it to get in the way of his transformation. He removed the sweater that his vampire-slaying grandmother gave him before he was bitten, just like he's trying to remove his human bloodline altogether.
But... it's not so easy to get rid of your blood, is it? Even when you spray about 10 gallons of it all over the back room of a gas station. I think that blood is probably still interfering with the transformation, but I guess we'll get more information on that later.
The most interesting part of all this to me, though, is like... okay, so Guillermo's sweaters represent the parts of him that he wants to shed during this transformation, but that he simultaneously can't quite stand to let go of. But in the same episode, Nandor specifically asks Guillermo to wear a sweater.
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Like sure, he calls it shitty -- but he doesn't want Guillermo to wear the flashy, expensive clothes that Guillermo wore to impress his family and boyfriend, or the neat lines of his professional slayer wear. He wants Guillermo at his most comfortable and his most himself. He wants Guillermo in a sweater, the nicest one he has. He wants Guillermo to be the nicest version of himself. He doesn't need Guillermo to take anything away from himself; he just wants to change him into the best version of what he already is.
The real question here for me now is... is this because Nandor is still uncomfortable thinking about Guillermo's transformation? Is that why he's still insisting on Guillermo wearing his sweaters? Or is it just that this is the version of Guillermo he likes best? The comfortable, sweet, soft version of him? The Guillermo that brushes his hair and pats his back and talks him down when he's scared?
Does he want Guillermo to keep wearing his sweaters because he, like Guillermo, associates them with his humanity? Or is it because he associates them with Guillermo's happiness? Does he want Guillermo to be the best version of himself while still being "shitty", aka human? Or does he want Guillermo to feel comfortable at his birthday dinner even if Nandor personally thinks the sweaters are ugly?
God. Nandor.
Ahhhh fuck, this all makes me feral. lmao. I am not emotionally prepared for this season.
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