#ily and i hope you have a good birthday <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[a-lonely-tatertot]

@soryasongsaa HEY!!! ITS YOUR BIRTHDAY!! (IGNORE THAT I AM. AN HOUR AND A HALF LATE) dude i. god i've been waiting for this since my birthday and look, it's not a song it definitely cant one up a whole fucking song (you win. THIS TIME) but in the end this was the best way i could convey all of the love i have for you man. you are, fuckin you are my best friend and i am forever grateful that you responded to my dm after spending an hour and a half scrolling through your oc tag. im forever grateful that i have you, when it's a late night and i need to scream about everything awful ever, and i am forever grateful i have you to binge watch clone wars with, make stupid jokes like verdi the wiener dog and reminisce on spicy gatorade and change your header with me. i could write a whole essay on all the things i love about you, and about our friendship, and how much you mean to me bc i dont care if you beat me to it by putting it into a song but you truely mean so much to me. throughout the worst couple years youve been there and one day i'll give you an actual letter for your birthday because i know you love those but until then- heres this :]

Originally, this was going to have little doodles of all the stuff we talked about doing on our roadtrip. because fuck everything, we are going on that roadtrip if it kills me, because that stupid joke has gotten me through so much. but in my head, this is our discord chatbox that we keep collapsing in recently, but its sort of a, whatever fucking happens, whatever bullshit we both have to go through to get there: this is our 3 years and something month long joke and it means that even if i have to pull back the sun to not get to the end we will get to it and we will be here.

Anyways, i love you, and nonroad thingy in the middle is under the cut <3

[kellystar321]

@rhinoyo MY BELOVED LEMMY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! lots of love!! <33

[glitchy--demon]

Hiiiii hi honey <3 i know you're eepy right now buuut.. Happy birthday!!!

ily so much!! <3 you're so silly and goofy

Giving you 5000 kisses cause you deserve them ùwú mwah mwah mwah!!!

Happy birthday to my lovely and amazing girlfriend!!!!!! @revvywevvy i hope you have a lovely day!!! :3c

[amethystsoda]

Happy birthday Ari!!! You are such a delight to know, and I hope you have a lovely day 💖

[headkiss]

something more

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.

word count: 6.6k

warnings: friends to lovers, the team being a little nosy, pining idiots!!!, probably inaccurate descriptions of bau jobs (for the plot!), a very small injury, a birthday, a first kiss, and fluff!

a/n: hiii this one has been a long time coming so thank you guys for being so patient with me!!! and special thanks to the anon who requested this one! i hope u guys enjoy it and please please let me know what you think <3 ily

༄

Aaron Hotchner was never someone you thought you could be this close to.

Coming to the BAU, you’d been intimidated more than anything. As Unit Chief, he’s got a reputation that’s hard to ignore. Professional, brave, cold when he has to be. His success and talent were undeniable, and all you wanted to do was prove that you belonged there, too.

Then, you really met him, and he surprised you in a way you hadn’t expected. Hotch was kind right off the bat, welcoming you to the team with a smile that felt like some sort of prize.

He was an excellent boss. Understanding and protective, quick to defend anyone on the team like they were his own family. Except, he was so much more than just your boss.

Now, you’d call him your closest friend, someone who’s number you’d call if you were in trouble. He’s your closest friend and yet you feel so much more for him.

It started slow, a friendship blooming the way a plant does with just enough sunlight. It was a shared smile here, a nudge of the shoulder there. It grew to be a seat next to him reserved for you on every plane ride.

Today, it’s eating lunch with him in his office.

Aaron usually works through lunch, more eager to get things done than he is to worry about skipping a meal. Somehow, with two tupperware containers in your hand and a sweet smile, you’d managed to get him to take a break.

“Whatcha doing?” You’d asked.

Hotch looked up from his paperwork then, dropping his pen because you were in his doorway. “You know, Unit Chief business. Reports.”

“Sounds like you have time for lunch, then.” You set the containers down on his desk, making sure to avoid the papers he’d just been working on.

“I should really get this done-”

“Hotch,” you stopped him, “you and I both know that you’re always ahead on this stuff because you stay here so late. Lunch won’t set you back.”

With a shake of his head and the biting back of a smile, a simple twitch at the corners of his mouth, Aaron agreed and stacked his paperwork off to the side.

That’s how you’ve ended up in the chair that’s usually on the opposite side of his desk, only now it’s tugged to be next to his. Your knees touch every so often when one of you shifts, and the warmth stays with you even when the contact is gone.

“Sorry it’s nothing fancy,” you say as he opens the container you brought for him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s great.” Hotch has a way of saying things that make them sound true, no matter how few words he uses, so you accept it.

“Okay, good!” There’s a small silence, a lull as you both take your first bites. “Can I help with anything?”

Aaron looks from the paperwork to your face, your eyes already on his. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you reassure him. “I think sometimes you forget that you aren’t the only one who can do this stuff.”

He knocks his knee against yours. Purposeful this time. A silent ‘thank you.’

“Like you said, I’m ahead anyways. I’ve got it.”

“Come on, Hotch. I’m already done with my report from our last case. I’ve got time. Let me help.”

He’s always been reluctant to accept help, to ask for it, but when you’re asking so sweetly, when it’ll give him an excuse to spend more time with you, it’s hard for Aaron to say no.

“Alright. You help for an hour, that’s it.”

You grin at him, like his acceptance of your offer was some kind of gift he’d given you. Your nose crinkles a little with it, and his hand flexes in his lap, like he’s fighting not to reach out to you.

“Okay, put me to work, boss.”

“We just started lunch,” he says, a little chuckle puffing out.

“Have you ever heard of multitasking, Agent Hotchner?”

Aaron laughs, shaking his head as he reaches for one of the files in the stack he’d made and hands it to you. He’d call everyone at the BAU a friend, but there’s something different, something more about how he’d describe you.

He’s grown closer to you than he usually lets himself get to people, like you’re the only one with the right tools to break through walls he’s put up. You see each other outside of work (on the rare days you aren’t working), and still, he feels like it’s never long enough.

Hotch briefly wonders if he could just move your desk into his office. He shakes off the thought and what it might mean.

Head bent, you’re now focused on the work he gave you, and Aaron takes the chance to admire you. His eyes flick over your profile, the light hitting your cheeks, the flutter of your eyelashes every time you blink.

As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turn towards him and smile—a small, closed-mouth smile, but a smile all the same—before turning your attention back to the page.

When you take a pause and take another bite of your lunch, a small drop of sauce lands on your thigh. “Oh, shit.”

Aaron grabs a tissue from the box on his desk, wrapping it over his fingertip before wiping the small spot from your leg, his finger a spark against you even through your pants.

“Good thing you wore black,” he says, tossing the tissue in the garbage. His hand, however, stays on your leg, and though the touch is light the weight of it feels the opposite. Heavy, huge.

“Good thing you’re here to clean up after me, more like.”

Your eyes meet, and you share a smile with Hotch the way you often do. Mid-conversation, across a room, it’s a smile you sort of reserve for each other.

In the main office below, Derek, Spencer, and JJ stand together, watching the interaction through the window into Hotch’s office. You and Aaron seem to be in your own bubble, completely unaware of your small audience.

“They’ve gotta be together,” Derek is the first to speak, waving a hand towards the office where you and Hotch are talking. “I mean, come on.”

“I don’t know,” JJ shrugs, “they both seem kinda clueless.”

“We probably shouldn’t speculate about them,” Spencer, always the sweetheart, says. “But, statistically, Hotch never eats lunch. Just saying.”

JJ pats Reid on the shoulder, huffing out a laugh before she heads back to her desk.

You stay in Aaron’s office much longer than an hour that day.

-

Punctuality is important in the BAU. Really, if you’re not early, you’re late. You’ve always got to be ready, wheels up in ten, or five.

You suppose that doesn’t really apply to outside-of-the-office parties at Garcia’s.

It’s rare that you’re all available at the same time, from late nights at the bureau to families, it’s tough to make your schedules line up when you aren’t working, which is why whenever she can, Penelope likes to host drinks for the team.

You’re on your way there now, or, you should be. Instead, you’re getting ready in your bedroom while Aaron waits in your living room.

Hotch has offered to drive you to these things every time, and with every offer, comes your easy answer of ‘yes.’ He’d been outside in his car for five minutes before he decided to call, because you’re usually in his passenger seat within seconds of him pulling over by your building.

The ringing of your phone had your eyes blinking open, squinted against the sudden brightness of your TV. You’d accidentally fallen asleep, and, still disoriented, picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, everything okay?” It’s Aaron’s voice on the other line, and you pull your phone away for a second to check the time before sitting up quickly.

“Shit, Hotch, I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I can wait for you.” He’d wait as long as you need, he thinks. The thought passes through like a leaf blown in the wind, freely, randomly.

“Have you been waiting long?” You ask, fingers tugging at a loose thread in your pants.

“No, don’t worry. Barely five minutes.”

And he still wanted to check on you.

“Why don’t you come in? My couch is probably more comfortable than your car, right?”

“You sure?” He checks, like he hasn’t been to your place before, like you’d ever not want him there.

“Get in here, Hotchner.”

You hung up before he could reply, and he laughed to himself in his car before shutting it off and doing exactly what you’d told him.

So, now, you’re rushing to find an outfit while Aaron sits on your couch by himself.

Even though he’s in the next room, you can feel his presence around you, the steady security he gives you, the warmth that seeps out of him even when he tries to hide it.

You settle on a knitted sweater, a skirt, and some tights, which you realize as you tug them on aren't the speediest of options, but it’s too late to change your mind now. With your hair figured out and the mascara that had smudged during your nap fixed, you step back out into the living room.

Aaron made himself at home while you were gone (he often feels that way with you, at home), sitting on your couch with his arms spread across the back. He looks better than he should there, suit stretched across his shoulders, and you have to clear your throat to snap yourself out of it.

“Okay, sorry again for the delay. I’m ready to go.”

He looks up as soon as you walk in, eyes skimming over your legs and the tights wrapped around them, your waist, up your neck. His gaze lands on your eyes the way it often does, like magnets.

He shakes his head, “don’t be sorry. We’ll be what they call ‘fashionably late.’”

You laugh, because who would’ve thought that the words ‘fashionably late’ would ever come out of Aaron Hotchner’s mouth.

“Who taught you that one, huh?”

“I like to keep my sources anonymous.”

“Well okay, then. Let’s go be fashionably late, Hotch.”

He lets you lead the way to the car, only jogging up ahead to open your door before you can reach it yourself.

During the drive to Penelope’s, you take control of the music with little objection from Aaron, and when it gets to a song you know he likes, you sing along, encouraging him to do the same.

“Let’s hear it, Agent Hotchner.” You hold your fist out like there’s a microphone in it, looking at him with a grin on your face.

“I can't sing.” Aaron’s fighting off a smile, because you’re sitting beside him, not too shy to sing along, being all cute and, briefly, he thinks about reaching out and grabbing your hand and holding on.

“Sure you can! Everyone can sing, come on.” You unfurl your faux microphone-holding fist and tug on the knot of his tie, “loosen up a little.”

And, because you have some way of convincing him of things—first lunch, now this—he humors you by joining in for one chorus of the song. When your eyes light up a little, and your grin only widens, he can’t bring himself to be too concerned of how bad he probably sounds.

By the time you’re at Garcia’s door you’re a solid hour late, yet you and Aaron walk up to the door with matching smiles all the same.

“I’m getting you to do that every time I hear that song now, I hope you know.”

“That was a one time special,” he says. He reaches over your shoulder to knock on the door. His hand brushes against you, featherlight and quick, a crackle over your skin.

On the other side, Morgan says, “must be the lovebirds” when he hears the sound.

You and Aaron don’t hear him, only broken out of your little shared bubble when Penelope opens the door. “There you guys are! I made your drinks but the ice might be melted by now. You know, ‘cause you’re late.”

You know this is directed towards you more than it is Hotch, because Garcia’s a little intimidated by him still. You also know she’s only joking, and greet her with a hug before stepping in.

Aaron isn’t far behind you, though at these things, he never is.

You’re met with warm greetings from the team when you walk in, and you chat for a bit, but it isn’t long before things split off into smaller conversations. They all know that Aaron drives you to these things, and, as profilers, they’re also all able to see the way you look at each other, the way the knot of his tie sits lower than usual.

In the corner, Emily leans over to Derek, saying, “usually it takes at least two drinks for Hotch’s tie to look like that.”

“I told you, they’re together,” Derek shrugs.

“I don’t think they know that,” Emily replies.

This time, Aaron hears them, and he can’t help but look towards you in the room the rest of the night, thinking and thinking and thinking.

He ends up deciding that they might have a point. That maybe, that shift in his heartbeat when you’re around isn’t nothing, isn’t just friends.

-

The flight home from a case always feels the longest.

On the way there, you’re packing every hour with information about what’s going on, talking to Garcia, reading police reports. You’re all on edge, eager to get out there and help and do your jobs,

Then, on the way home, with another case solved, all you’re thinking about is going home, sleeping in your own bed, and time seems to go slower.

If your name happens to be Aaron Hotchner, you’d spend the plane ride home doing paperwork that actually can wait.

You and Aaron sit next to each other on pretty much every flight, though the seats have never been assigned. It’s an unspoken thing, like your names are written on the fabric of the same two seats on the jet and that’s just the way it is.

The first time was early on in your time on the team. It was a tough case for you, and Hotch seemed to know it without you having to say anything, so, when you got on the jet to come home, he smiled that small, twitch of his lips smile at you and nodded at the seat next to him. You’ve been sitting there ever since.

Today, your flight is on the shorter side, but feels long the way it always does. Trying to keep yourself occupied, you pull out your earbuds and shuffle your playlist, hoping that the songs will speed things up.

“Sick of me already?” Hotch speaks up when he notices your headphones.

You tilt your head to look at him. He looks tired, the way you’re sure you do, too, but never any less handsome. His eyes are soft where they meet yours, paired with a hint of a smile that you’re always able to catch.

“Sick of you, Hotch? Never.” You nod at the file he has open on the small table, “just didn’t want to distract you.”

“I thought you enjoyed distracting me. Always telling me I work too much.”

“‘Cause it’s true,” you say. “That doesn’t mean you listen.”

“I listen to you more than I listen to most people.” Aaron’s voice is gentle when he says it, the words sinking in and melting you just a little, sugary sweet. It could mean absolutely nothing, but with the way he keeps his eyes steady on yours, you don’t think it does.

“Listen to this, then,” you hand him one of your earbuds, and his fingers brush yours when he takes it from you. “But you can’t make fun of me if a musical soundtrack comes on, okay?”

“Okay,” he huffs a small laugh, and you feel a little brighter. “I promise.”

You’re aware of the team having their own conversations in the rows in front of you and Hotch, but you can’t bring yourself to join in, because you and Aaron are sharing your earbuds and his head is bent just a little closer to yours. It’s delicate, and you’ll do your best not to break it.

You talk a little longer, until it naturally fizzles out and Hotch is back to working on his files and you’re bobbing your head along to your songs. Only now, Aaron sits closer to you, his arm against yours.

He’s not sure what to do with his newfound realization that his feelings for you run far deeper than friendship. All Aaron knows is that he likes the feeling of you beside him, and that he’s planning on keeping you there as long as you’ll let him.

It’s quiet between the two of you aside from your occasional ‘this is a good one,’ and his hum of acknowledgement.

Eventually, you’re relaxed enough that your eyes grow heavy, the sleep you’ve been lacking suddenly catching up to you, and when you hit a patch of slower songs you’re fighting to stay awake.

When your head lulls onto Hotch’s shoulder, you jerk your head up, “sorry, Aaron.”

His chest does something funny. A jump. It’s not often you call him Aaron, and he’d listen to the sound of his name on your lips on a loop if he could. Because he can’t help himself, he scooches himself even closer to you.

He decides to call you something different, too, saying, “it’s alright, honey.”

You’re too sleepy to really read into that one, all you feel is the flutter in your stomach and Aaron’s hand on your head, gently guiding it to his shoulder.

When he’s sure you’re asleep, Hotch looks away from his files and over to you. Your cheek is squished against his shoulder, your lashes fanned shut. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Aaron doesn’t even feel the smile that spreads over his face as he reaches up and pushes your hair away from your face. He’s completely unaware of the eyes that catch him, far too focused on you.

Emily turned around when she realized she hadn’t heard your voice in a bit, and she did it just in time to catch Hotch’s movement. Instead of saying something, she turns back around and shakes her head to herself.

Hopeless, she thinks.

Sleep doesn’t come so easily with this job, with the things you see, so Aaron can’t help but try and stay steady for you, and if that leads to him letting his eyes close and resting his head on yours, then so be it.

It’s not until the end of the flight that the team checks on the two of you. As everyone stands and grabs their go bags, they notice the two of you, asleep next to each other, earbud wires hanging between you.

“Should we wake them up?” JJ asks.

“Hotch doesn’t get enough sleep as it is,” Spencer chimes in. “Neither does she, actually.”

Of course, Derek finishes with, “let’s leave the lovebirds to it,” before the team gets off the plane.

It’s only about twenty minutes later that Aaron does wake up, but he feels more well-rested than he has in a while, even with the kink in his neck.

Blinking his eyes open, he’s met with an empty jet and the comforting weight of your head on his shoulder. “Shit,” he sighs.

He debates waking you, ultimately deciding that you’d probably rather sleep in your bed rather than the seat of the BAU’s jet. Reaching up, he pulls your earbuds away, setting them on the table. With a brush of his fingertips to your cheek, he coaxed you awake.

“Hey, honey,” Aaron’s nearly whispering, like he’s afraid to scare you. Or, maybe, he’s convinced that if he moves too quickly, too loudly, this whole thing will fade away as if he’d been dreaming. “Wake up, we’re home.”

“Hm?” You grumble, scrunching your nose when he brushes your cheek again.

“We fell asleep, but we landed.”

“Oh, god.” You sit up properly, lifting your head. “I’m sorry, Aaron. Hotch.”

“Aaron is good,” he eases you. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”

Sleep-hazed, or maybe just happy that he can be Aaron to you, you agree easily and take his hand when he offers it, letting him lead you to his car.

-

You’ve been spending more time at Aaron’s ever since that flight. In the car, he’d convinced you to stay over at his place in the guest room, since it was closer. With your go bag already in his car and heavy, sleepy eyes, it was hard for you to do anything but agree.

It’s another slice of his life that he’s let you see, and you can’t help but feel like it means something, like you’re stepping further and further away from being coworkers who are friends and towards something different. Something more.

That flight feels like the catalyst, the thing that caused things to shift into what they are now.

Aaron’s couch is much more comfortable than yours, and though you’ve yet to spend the night again, you’re sitting there with him at almost every chance. The time off you get is rare, and Aaron wanting to spend it with you sends flutters to your stomach whenever you think about it.

You feel like you know him better, getting to see his space, how he chose to decorate, what colors he likes, which ones he doesn’t. You also know what temperature he likes to set his thermostat.

“Do you enjoy living in a refrigerator?” You ask, hands tucked into your sleeves. “Just wondering.”

Aaron laughs, a small huff, “I think you just run cold, honey.”

He’s been calling you that a lot, too. Honey.

“No way, Hotchner. Your house is what runs cold. Or maybe you’re cold-blooded.”

Not with you, he thinks. Years and years of doing what he does, Hotch might even call himself cold when he’s thinking a little too hard. But never cold with you. He thinks that might be impossible for him.

“Shhh, don’t tell anyone my secret,” he says, his arm brushing against yours from where he sits next to you on his couch. “Where are you cold?”

“Can’t feel my toes, Aaron. I might be out of commission for the next case.”

“Well we can’t lose our best girl, can we?” Best girl, he says. Like he means it, like it’s simple. “I’ve got some thick socks you can grab. Bottom drawer.”

Just like that, he’s cracked another wall of his down even further, giving you permission to go into his bedroom as if you’ve been in there a thousand times.

“Really?”

“Unless you’d rather not feel your toes-“

“Okay, okay,” you stop him, unable to fight your smile. “Thanks, Aaron.”

When you stand and head towards his room, Aaron can’t stop himself from thinking that you belong there, in his home, his room, his life. You fit in so seamlessly he wishes you’d never leave.

He stands up too, because the couch suddenly feels sort of empty without you beside him, without your warmth. He walks over to his thermostat on the wall and turns it up for you.

You’ve always thought that you can tell a lot about a person from where they live, and seeing Aaron’s bedroom now solidifies it. His place does too, but there’s something about his bedroom that feels much more personal.

Here, there’s more of him, little bits of his life scattered around. A picture of him as a kid with his parents on the dresser, the newspaper’s crossword sitting completely finished on his nightstand, his bed neatly made.

You smile at the framed photo before slipping the top drawer open and finding the pair of socks he’d been talking about. As much as you’d love to snoop, you don’t want to invade his privacy in any way. Besides, from Aaron, even a glimpse of his space feels special.

You slip on the socks before you leave his room, letting them bunch at your ankles.

As soon as you walk back into the living room, Aaron’s phone rings. Glancing at you softly, almost apologetically though he’s got nothing to be sorry about—you work with him, you know how important a call can be—he picks it up.

“Hotchner,” he says, holding it to his ear. His voice is different this way, more professional, controlled. Never any less pleasing to hear.

He’d wanted to say something about how good you look in his clothes when his phone rang, Garcia’s name flashing on the screen. Aaron wishes it was someone else, only to spend more time with you this way.

“Sorry to call late, sir,” Penelope says. “We’ve got a case. Missing kid; it’s urgent.”

“Don’t be sorry, Garcia. We’re on our way.”

“Wait, we?” She asks, curious as always.

“What’s going on?” You ask Aaron.

“Got a case. I’ll drive, honey.” He lets the pet name slip, like it’s a habit.

On the other line, Garcia’s grinning to herself in her office. She’d had a suspicion of who on the team Hotch would be with outside of work, and hearing your voice, and his use of the word ‘honey’ all sticky sweet, she knows she’s onto something.

“Oh, that’s ‘we,’” Penelope’s voice teases. “Tell her I’ll see you guys soon!”

Aaron shakes his head, fighting his smile. “Bye, Garcia.”

He hangs up and looks from his phone to you, your eyes already on him, corners of your mouth tugged up just a little like you’d heard what Garcia said, heard the lilt in her voice. Like you liked the idea of you and Aaron being a unit. We.

He likes that idea, too.

Back at the BAU, Garcia calls Derek next, who picks up with his classic, “hey, babygirl.”

First, she tells him that he needs to come into the office, that they’ve got a case, then, “you’re never going to believe this.”

Penelope loves to talk, and Derek’s happy to listen, so she tells him about how you’d been with Aaron when she called, and that you were on your way together.

“I give them another week, max, before they’re holding hands when they come in.” Derek laughs, because he can see yours and Hotch’s feelings so easily, plain as day, and he loves to be right about things.

“How mad will Hotch be when he finds out that we talk about his relationship?” Penelope’s mostly joking, only a fraction concerned.

“If the boss didn’t want us talking about it, he shouldn’t be so obvious, sweetheart.”

Once you arrive at the office, you don’t catch Penelope and Derek’s shared looks behind yours and Aaron’s—who happens to be carrying both his and your go bag—backs.

And if anyone notices the loose socks around your ankles, they don’t say anything about it.

-

You’re not supposed to go off on your own unless it’s absolutely necessary. You know that, the team knows that. Aaron, who is always trying to keep you as safe as possible, enforces it.

You guess that this time might be up for debate.

When it comes to what you do, you have to trust your instincts most of the time. And today, your gut told you to make a decision that might not have been safe, but to you, it felt like what you had to do.

Aaron had been on the phone with you, trying to figure out a way to make the car drive any faster to get to you. He’d heard it in your voice, in the tone of it, that he couldn’t convince you to wait for someone else to show up.

“I have to do this, Aaron,” you’d said. While the team would normally probably tease him about you calling him Aaron, as if it isn’t his name, they’d known not to interrupt this time. “You know I do.”

“You don’t have to.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he spoke. “We’ll be there soon, alright? Just-”

“I’m sorry.” And then, you hung up.

In the end, going in when you did had been the right move. A life had been saved, and you’d slowed the guy down enough that the police were able to arrest him when they arrived. All it cost you was a cut and a bruise on your cheek.

So, your instincts weren’t so bad.

Aaron, however, disagrees. Logically, he knows that he would’ve done the exact same thing you did, knows the rest of the team would’ve, too. But when it comes to you, he has a hard time thinking logically.

After you hung up on him, all he could do was breathe and breathe and breathe over the heavy thumping of his heartbeat and the worry spinning in his head. He drove the quickest he could manage, the car silent inside. A static.

It’s not that he doubts your abilities—he’s always thought you were incredible, even before the friendship, even before now—only that the idea of you being alone with such a bad man makes him feel sick.

He’d take your place in a heartbeat, if he could, just to make sure you’d be safe.

By the time he and the rest of the team get to the scene, you’re walking out of the building with a hand pressed to your cheek and a paramedic leading you to a nearby ambulance.

Aaron spots you right away, his eyes scanning the small crowd through red and blue lights and conversations surrounding him. When he spots you, everything goes quiet.

His first thought is, thank god she’s alive, then, it’s fuck, she’s hurt.

Without a word to anyone, he heads over in your direction right away. He meets you at the ambulance, where you sit on the small bench inside while the paramedic presses your cheek with gauze.

“Honey.” It comes out in a breath. Relief and pain all at once.

You look over to him, his hair a little messy, his eyes wide and roaming all over you like he’s checking for any other injuries. He cares about you, and it’s written all over him.

“Aaron. I’m okay.” You hold a hand out, and he grabs it, sitting beside you on the bench in the ambulance. “Promise.”

For now, he nods, letting the paramedic do their job bandaging up your cheek. When they’re finished, they hand you a spare bandage saying, “it’s gonna bruise, and it might feel sore for a bit, but you’re all patched up.”

The paramedic leaves after that, probably going to check on other people. The lights inside the ambulance seem to cocoon you, a bright difference to the darkness outside.

The first thing Aaron says is, “let me see.”

His hands reach for your face, rough fingertips gently holding your jaw, tilting you so that he can look at your cheek. It’s a little swollen, discolored where you must’ve been hit. There’s a furrow in his brow, something that looks like a pout on none other than Aaron Hotchner.

“Hey,” you grab his wrists, but his hands stay on your face. “I’m fine.”

Aaron’s always worried, he’s always cared about you and about everyone on the team, but this is different. He was usually able to hide things much better than this. Much better than with you.

Now, all he sees is the tiny bloodstain on your shirt and the bandage on your cheek. All he feels is your hands squeezing his wrists and your eyes locked on his.

“You should have waited,” he says. “I could have been there.”

“Hotchner,” your deadpan tone is intact, which he’ll take as a win, even if it’s directed towards him. “You and I both know you would have done the same. I had to.”

One of his hands shifts to cup your non-injured cheek. Normally, he’d be much more composed while working, but he can’t bring himself to care about how he must look right now.

“I know you did,” he tells you, because he does. “I just wish that you didn’t. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Your stomach is tumbling, rolling, your heart doing silly things in your chest. You can hardly feel the pain of your cheek anymore when his hand is on the other, his palm warm against your skin, his gaze even warmer.

“I’m hardly hurt, Aaron. Just a scratch.”

“Right. One that required medical attention. That’s more than just a scratch, honey.”

“If you say so, Hotchner.”

He shifts his hands so that they fall into your lap, palms up and fingers instantly finding yours, tangling together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces.

“Good job, by the way.” Hotch rubs his thumb over your skin once, back and forth. “You did the right thing.”

“Learned from the best,” you say.

You’re both oblivious to the fact that the team is watching from a distance, and that the two of you look so lovesick it’s ridiculous that you haven’t spilled your feelings yet. You’re both absolutely fucked.

Where she stands with the team, Emily shakes her head, “I haven’t seen Hotch like this since… ever.”

Beside her, JJ merely shrugs, like it’s obvious, “yeah, they’re in love.”

Spencer looks at you and Aaron in that ambulance with a smile. “The odds of you guys being right are very, very high.”

-

+1

Aaron Hotchner was never the biggest fan of birthdays. Was never big into the cakes and making wishes, the song and the presents and the fuss of it all.

When he started at the bureau, it stayed that way. Days off were rare enough as it was, so he’d always work on his birthday. And while he kept the signed cards from the team, he treated it as any other day. Nothing special.

This year, you’re on a mission to change that.

While it isn’t the first of Aaron’s birthdays you’ve spent with him, it’s the first one since the two of you have grown as close as you have, since you’ve felt the way you do. You’re just hoping to make it a good birthday for him.

You’ve roped the whole team into it. Decorating the conference room with streamers and balloons and a sign that hangs crooked on the wall, bringing in a cake that reads ‘Happy Birthday Hotch’ in frosting, and keeping it all a secret.

Of course, you’ve all already said happy birthday to him, and you’ve got a present stashed under your desk for later, but you’ve been doing your best to act natural even when the anticipation of your surprise for him eats at your stomach a little.

Surprises are a tricky thing, and there’s no way of knowing whether he’ll like it or not. You’ll just have to wait and see.

While in his office, the team had made it seem like they’d all left for the day, saying their goodbyes to Hotch. Instead of leaving, though, they’ve been hidden in the conference room waiting for you to bring him in.

“Aaron,” you say, knocking on his office door. “I think I lost an earring. Do you think you could help me look for it?”

Because you’re the one asking, Aaron says, “‘course, honey. Where do you think it is?”

You smile, because he’s fallen into your trap easily, because you know that he probably would search for an earring with you if you’d actually lost one.

“I remember having it on in the conference room, so maybe there.”

He stands from his desk, gesturing for you to lead the way with his hand held out. You grab onto it before he can drop it, tangling your fingers and leading him behind you.

Aaron lets you guide him, and when you open the door to the conference room and flick on the lights, he’s met with the team’s grinning faces and a chorus of, “surprise!”

For a moment, he’s speechless, frozen in his spot in the doorway with your hand in his.

No, Aaron’s never been the biggest fan of birthdays, but maybe that’s because nobody’s ever done something like this for him. You came into his life all sweet smiles and now you’re throwing him a surprise party? He’s never ever liked someone the way he likes you.

So much that like is spilling into a four letter word and he’s happy to let it.

You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like being the center of attention too much, so the only people in the room are those of the BAU. His closest friends. And you, his favorite person.

Before he can say anything he’s being spoken to by the team, getting a ‘happy birthday, boss,’ from Derek, a spill about how hard it was to keep this a secret from Penelope, a grin from Spencer, a tip about how you’d organized all of this from Emily, a squeeze to the shoulder from JJ.

When he finally gets the chance, the others split into their own conversations, Aaron tugs you aside to the corner of the room.

“You did all of this for me?” He asks, head bent to catch your eye.

Although you’d caught the signature Hotchner smile—closed-mouthed and quick—when he saw the surprise, you’re nervous about what he might say. You worry that you’ve done too much, that he’d been pretending to like it for your sake.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit much,” you start, anxiously tugging at your sleeves. “I wasn’t sure if you liked surprises, I know not everyone does, but I wanted to do something for you because I care about you. A lot. And birthdays are meant to be celebrated, you know?”

Aaron can’t help but let a smile spread over his face as you speak; a real smile. His heart is light, his feelings for you melting through him like the soft pink of cotton candy. He doesn’t think you could ever do anything that he wouldn’t like.

“I’ll clean it all up, too, I prom-”

Your rambling is cut off with his lips on yours. He’s kissing you.

It’s soft, the press of his mouth against yours, and it takes you a second to push back. It stays delicate, a dance between the two of you like you’d practiced a million times before.

His hands skate down your arms to hold your hands, weaving his fingers with yours, squeezing like he’s making sure you know this is real.

You feel it all over, your stomach tumbling, your heart beating in a rhythm that thumps his name. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, over and over.

It’s a kiss worth a thousand words that you haven’t said yet, a kiss full of feelings and meaning and you know it, just by the way he does it, because you know him and he knows you. It’s you and Aaron, and it feels like the beginning of something huge. Of the rest of your life, maybe.

When he pulls back, Hotch rests his forehead against yours, giving your head a gentle nudge, locking his brown eyes on yours.

“It’s perfect,” he says.

The next thing you hear is Derek Morgan cheering, “I knew it!”

Similar words come from the rest of the team.

“Finally,” from Emily.

“About time,” from JJ.

“This isn’t surprising,” from Spencer, who smiles while saying it.

A sweet, “yay,” from Penelope.

Distracted by Aaron kissing you, you’d sort of forgotten they were there. Bashful, you tuck your head beneath Aaron’s chin, forehead against his collar. He simply tightens his hands around yours.

And when it’s time for cake, this year, Aaron Hotchner makes a wish on his birthday candles. He wishes to spend every other birthday just like this. With you.

༄

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you liked it, please please please consider reblogging/commenting and letting me know what you thought! love you <3

[lale-txt]

all i do on this app is CRY HELLO????

Yes, ma'am.

I couldn't possibly practice drawing these days and not think about the latest chapters of @lale-txt 's Soft Launch that are currently sitting in my drafts, waiting for me to make myself a cup of tea, put down my pen and settle into a soothing nest of blankets. I do believe that might be the plan for me, tomorrow. Not only is Soft Launch my current favourite read, its also the story that made me curious about drawing fanart. Excuse the dodgy shading on the background - I'm new to drawing people, and wooden panels make even less sense, apparently ✋️😂 . Wishing you all a very gentle weekend! ♡

[formulafics]

★ BEST OF BOTH WORLDS | MV1

Scenario: the sweet chaos of dating max verstappen while you’re daniel ricciardos sister - the best of both worlds, right? (requested)

Pairing: max verstappen x fem!ricciardo!reader

A/N: one of my fav duos ❤️ and MY FIRST MAX FIC ‼️ i love him. shoutout to anon for being the first person to request a silly little max fic. i had sm fun with this and i hope you have fun reading it!

ynricciardo.jpg

perth, australia

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, lando.jpg, oscarpiastri, and 232,627 others

ynricciardo.jpg home is where the heart is <3

view all 3,456 comments

danielricciardo another post without me included. day 456, it’s getting tough

⤷ ynricciardo.jpg i don’t want to mess up my feed with too many pictures of my brother

⤷ rizzciardo yn, the last time you posted daniel was on his birthday…nearly a year ago

⤷ norrisnation HELP ME

maxverstappen1 ❤️

⤷ danielricciardo ew

⤷ ynricciardo.jpg and that’s why there’s a total of 2 posts of you on this account.

f1waglover always a good day when yn posts

badgerofhoney I CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU AT THE RACE THIS WEEKEND

⤷ ricciardosiblingsgirlie ME TOO i’ve missed seeing her

maxverstappen1 and ynricciardo.jpg

liked by ynricciardo.jpg, danielricciardo, landonorris, redbullracing, and 456,734 others.

maxverstappen1 i got sunshine on a rainy day. i’m talkin about my girl.

view all 3,456 comments

ynricciardo.jpg when it’s cold outside, i got the month of may. i’m talkin bout my boy. ily ❤️

ynricciardo.jpg shoutout to @/landonorris for taking picture 1 & 3

⤷ landonorris thank you. this is why i like you more than max :)

danielricciardo get a room

⤷ ynricciardo.jpg BOOOO OVERDONE

⤷ rizzciardo LMAO i can literally hear this in yn’s voice 😭

ynricciardo.jpg

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, maxverstappen1, alex_albon, pierregasly, and 243,456 others

ynricciardo.jpg were gathered here for the annual danny ric post from this account. happy birthday, brother - 34 going on 4! I love you and I hope you enjoy mine and max’s company as much as we enjoy yours.

view all 2,346 comments

danielricciardo a whole post dedicated to me? man, the waterworks are about to start. i love you too, thank you. ❤️

⤷ rizzciardo they can be so wholesome i love them sm

norrisnation god bless yn for that video of drunk max singing happy birthday to daniel

⤷ ynricciardo.jpg max just sent me a screenshot of your comment and said “what the fuck?” 😁

[verysanebsdfan]

Saiki Kusuo dating headcanons

Saiki Kusuo x Average!GN!reader They/them pronouns used Not requested but I felt the need to post something<3

Okay so, y/n is the most average person in class 2-3. Unnoticed by all, but as we very well know, Saiki likes averageness. So after some time, he noticed you

He first only liked your averageness, but by the time, he made a habit of listening to your thoughts.

Whatever you were thinking about, he knew and mentally noted what you like, what you don't like etc.

After some time, a teacher assigned a project in pairs, and Saiki and you ended together. With the help of his powers.

You two exchanged contacts <3

After the project, you started hanging out more. Saiki really likes your averageness, but what he also loves are Teruhashi's jealous thoughts

"What are they doing with MY Saiki?! They aren't even that good looking! what does he see in them" Well Teruhashi, it's y/n<3

But Teruhashi's thoughts made Saiki think. Did he like you? nonsense- or....

He stopped with the denial phase when you gave him a birthday gift, a lot of coffee jelly. You would have gave him a coupon or take him to a café, but you know that he prefers quiet, not that it is quiet with other people's thoughts constantly sounding in his head. But when he is with you, he still feels comfortable, and doesn't mind the thoughts of other people as much<3

He feels guilty that you don't know about his powers, so one day, when you two are hanging out at his place, he tells you, with the cute guilty face, so you ask him to prove it or smth and then end up cuddling and telling him that you don't mind him being a psychic<3 that made him love you even more

After some time, he finally confesses. It went something like "I like you." but through gritted teeth "what?" "Don't make me repeat myself" *sighs in tsundere* and then you laugh together and BOOM cutest couple of PK academy to ever exist!

As big of a tsundere he can be, that mf still loves you as much as coffee jelly...no...more than coffee jelly

My guys love language is a acts of service<3

He may not be the greatest at expressing his emotions but, you don't have your favorite snacks? Look again. You don't feel well? He will make you a soup and a tea, and change the cloth on your forehead<3 Someone is rude to you or makes you uncomfortable? Please hold him so he doesn't do anything illegal.

And lemme tell you, his parents LOVE you<3 you are already basically part of the family.

My guy doesn't want you to meet Kusuke and he will do anything in his power for it to not happen.

I feel like even if you guys wouldn't wanna tell the friend group, they would discover it. Like in a really stupid way yk, something like Nendo saw you or Chiyo persistently asked if you have crush on anyone so you just told her because Saiki would be jealous if you made some crush up<3

I feel like he wouldn't leave you, and i hope you wouldn't leave him either>:(

you grow old together<3

Okay so this was my first x reader.

I hope it's good<3

Stay safe, drink water, take care ily always bye

[ssahotchnerr]

hello my sweet! been reading your stuff a lot lately and the way you write aaron is so beautiful and real but anyway i’ll stop gushing - imagine just EXISTING with aaron. like the both of you doing your evening routines and just being happy and safe in each others prescence like UNF I NEED HIM BIBLICALLY

also also imagine him using his height to tease u like knowing you always use a particular mug so he likes putting it on the top shelf so he can tower over you and press himself against your back under the pretense of “helping” like aaron you little slut we know what you’re trying to do and its mean😠 (do it again)

anyway ily lots and i hope you’ve had a good day n stuff

- Gem💙

routine and a tease

thank you so much my sweet ily!! hehe here's a thing including alllll of that cw; suggestiveness, allusions to sex, mentions of food, aaron being a lil shit <3 wc; 1k

aaron's alarm goes off at seven, yours at seven thirty.

you're notorious for hitting snooze, several times, while aaron promptly rises at the first ring. half the time, you're convinced he even beats his alarm most days.

aaron's finished showering by the time you drag yourself out of bed. steam's still coating the bathroom mirror, the air's a bit thick with the lingering heat, and it fogs into your bedroom. as you enter, he exits, but not without giving you your first kiss of the morning. you hop in the shower next, while aaron dresses and trails out.

being the first awake, aaron has the awakening the apartment duties. he pulls the curtains open, allowing the morning light to flood in. he grabs jack's backpack off the chair at the dining room table, quickly double checks that homework was completed, and that the papers in his folder are orderly and within easy access, according to jack's lesson schedule - science is first, then math, language arts, so on - and back into his backpack it goes. he then double checks to make sure his briefcase and go-bag has everything he needs, he'll retrieve his gun and badge when he heads out later.

aaron sets both by the door, as well as your bag. he knows everything is already prepared and ready to go - you won't go to bed the night prior if it's not. you've told him many times, as not an early riser, why add a reason to rush in the morning if you can help it?

being the first awake also has its advantages, especially when it comes to a certain game aaron is fond of playing. he'll never deny himself the opportunity to poke affectionate fun at you.

and he does so for the other benefit; it does tend you rile you up.

even this, is routine.

you enter the kitchen with a yawn - you passed aaron in the hallway, where he gave you your second kiss of the day, off to jack's room to get him up and at 'em.

aaron's already brewed the coffee, and your creamer is on the counter waiting for you. all you need to do is open the cabinet to retrieve your favorite cup.

it's a mug jack painted you, at one of those pottery and art studios in the city. it was one of your birthday surprises this past year, and it's the only mug you plan on using for the rest of time. you even have a matching plate, aaron's own doing when he accompanied jack at the studio.

no matter how many times aaron pulls the stunt, your reaction is always the same. your brows crumble at the absence - at the empty spot amongst the other mugs. where you had left it the night before after unloading the dishwasher, it's no longer there. and as expected it's on the very top shelf, way out of your reach.

"aaron," you whine, loudly enough it trails out of the kitchen and down the hall.

a moment later aaron enters, a mischievous, knowing glint in his eyes. he knows that whine, but doesn't address it, naturally. "good morning darling. sleep well?"

you narrow your eyes, playfully glaring at him as your arms crossed in front of you. despite your ministrations, a smile tugs at your lips, "i did. you?"

"mhmm." he presses his lips to yours. his eyes quickly flick up to the open cabinet, right to where your mug stands, but remains purposefully oblivious.

you continue to play along. "busy day ahead?"

aaron shrugs, grabbing his mug and pouring his helping. "nothing out of the ordinary. budget meeting, there's a few reports i have to finish, the usual."

you hum in response, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

aaron takes a sip of coffee, only to hide his itching smile. "is there something wrong?"

"is there?" you mock his cheeky tone, and your eyes narrow again. "somehow, my mug isn't where i left it."

"that's strange," aaron feigns confusion, his brows furrowing as his gaze moved upward. "all the way up there? wonder how that happened."

you scoff lightly, turning back to the cupboard. you leaned up on your tiptoes as you attempted to reach for it, anticipating his next move. "yeah, i wonder."

as you expected, aaron's front is suddenly flush against your back, fully crowding you, his mouth at your ear. "lemme help." his voice is low as he reaches up, retrieving your mug with ease. his other hand lands on the spot right above your ass, daring to move lower, and causing your breath to catch in your throat.

but, aaron withdrawals his hand the second he hears the soft breath escape you, grabbing the pot of coffee and pouring it into your mug himself.

mission successful, once again.

you exhale, deeply yet gently, heat filling your cheeks. it's days like these, you'll opt for iced coffee.

some rare mornings though, with jack at jess's and neither you or aaron have anywhere to be, his actions don't stop there. more often than not, the two of you don't even bother to leave the kitchen.

aaron leans up against the counter, silently watching you prepare your coffee to your liking, rather unenthusiastically at that. after your first sip, and another amused glare directed at him, you start pulling out the cereal for breakfast. aaron falls alongside you, beginning to pack jack's lunch - grabbing an uncrustable from the freezer, filling a ziploc of carrots, another of veggie straws.

again, your shared, usual routine.

you're the one to finally break the silence. "one of these days, i'm buying a step stool."

"no you won't," a laugh bursts from him as he grabs a juice box from the fridge, the loudness of it making you grin instantly. he straightens his posture as he stands back upright, a half smile, half smirk plastered on his face. "you enjoy this just as much as i do. even more."

he has you there, and from the expression your face pulls in response, he knows it. a laugh leaves him once more as he crowds you, backing you against the counter and pressing his lips to yours.

"this is the best part of the morning,'' aaron mumbles into your lips. "is it not?"

[httpdwaekki]

the view | b.c.

summary: you’re upset but your comfort song and person are there to calm you.

wc: 773 | ss: 1

warnings: nothing? i wrote this so long ago i don’t remember lol. descriptions of crying and a break down, perhaps fem!reader but i don’t think so, read at your own risk.

a/n: happy late birthday channie <3 i forgot i wrote this so long ago but i wanted to post something for my favorite boy <3 but i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, take ur meds and ily <3

my library | donate | click

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

you were sat on the middle of your bed, a soft blanket and wolfchan curled into your chest, eyes closed as tears streamed down your face.

the view playing lowly in the background as you tried to calm yourself down. you didn’t know what happened, one second you were fine, the next you had wet streaks down your face unable to breathe.

you put on the view in an attempt to calm yourself but it wasn’t helping. neither were your plushie or blanket. you felt yourself slipping deeper and deeper into a spiral before chan had texted you.

you felt like you were there for hours before you felt a dip in front of you. you whip your head up to find a very worried channie. this causes you more distress, “i’m sorry. i’m- i’m so sor- sorry channie.” you say between sobs.

“hey hey, none of that okay?” he shushes you as he sits himself in front of you. “i’m gonna pull into my lap, okay?” he asks, waiting for your response. you nod, sniffling as you hold your arms out to him. he grabs your arms, pulling you gently towards him, placing his legs in front of him as you places yours around his waist.

“i’m here bug,” he wraps his arms around you. “you’re okay, let it out.” he kissed the side of your head, wrapping his arms tightly around you. you shove your face into his neck, leaning your body against his as you sob.

one arm pressed to his chest still holding the plushie to your chest, the other resting on his waist. you allow chan to hold you up. his hands move across your back in soothing motions, his mouth placed next your ear. “doing so good for me my baby, do you want me to tell you about my day or just sit here with you?” he asks softly.

you try to even your breathing to reply but to no avail. chan notices this, “tap once for the first, twice for the second.” you tap his waist once, his arms tightening slightly, pulling you closer. he starts his story talking about how he woke up to yelling, courtesy of hyunjin scaring changbin and changbin of course yelling at hyunjin for giving him a fright.

he then talks about how he made your famous eggs and bacon for breakfast but it didn’t taste as good as yours because in his words, “it didn’t have your love in it.” you feel your breathing even out as he continues his story, definitely embellishing a bit to pull a few giggles out of you.

once you’ve calmed down and chan has finished recounting his day, you sit there, leaning against him, just enjoying his presence. the familiar song still plays softly from your forgotten phone at the foot of your bed.

“how are you feeling?” he asks not daring to pull away until fully sure you were okay. “better, thank you.” you mumble into his skin before placing a soft kiss to it. “you never have to thank me for this or apologize, okay?” you nod taking your free hand and squeezing his waist.

“can i ask you a question?” he asks, hand still rubbing your back. you nod, signaling him to continue. “why the view?” you smile slightly. “i don’t know honestly, something about the song is super comforting to me.” he hums in understanding.

you yawn, feeling mentally and physically exhausted from the last hour or so of crying. “you sleepy bug?”you nod against him. “okay let’s get you comfy then hm?” he pats your thigh, waiting for you to move.

you move back slightly, just giving him enough room to slip out from under you. once he’s stands, he helps you under your blanket, making sure you have your wolfchan before rounding the bed. he makes his way to the other side of the bed, sliding in, pulling you to him once more.

you turn, burrowing yourself into his chest as he wraps his arms around you. after a beat of silence, he speaks, “please never think you’re a burden or less important than anything else in my life.” he pauses to place a kiss to your hair. “you mean the world to me so if you need me i’m there okay?”

you nod slightly, “okay.” you reply, overwhelming love blooming in your chest. “i love you channie, more than you know.” you say, placing a kiss over his heart. “i love you more bug.” he responds as your breathing evens out, slumping into his chest, where you both stayed for the rest of the night.

do not repost

[wlntrsldler]

smau (instagram): luke castellan x poseidon!reader

based on yourstingrey's post about luke being a drake stan and my obsession with this guy’s tiktok videos

or

a smau where luke didn’t betray everyone and chb allowed phones; teenage, drake stan!luke (birthdays edition)

tagged yn_yln, silenabeauregard, and others.

clarisselarue: shut up, the birthday girl’s talking 🎂

yn_yln: ITS MY GIRL’S BIRTHDAY

yn_yln: happy birthday clar <3 i love u

clarisselarue: i loveeee you more. thanks for celebrating with me!!!

silenabeauregard: ohhhh u look so good in the first picture

clarisselarue: thanks for taking the best pictures of me ily

silenabeauregard: i’d literally do anything for u

chrisr0driguez: happy birthday clarisse!!! hope you had a good one!!

lukecastell4n: he was shaking typing out this comment

poseidonsfavchild: bro is down BAD

poseidonsfavchild: happy bday clarisse thanks for contributing to my character development (bullying me)

lukecastell4n: presents, presence, and power g 💯 have a good one!

bethchase: what does this mean luke

gr0verunderwood: ????

tagged bethchase, gr0verunderwood, and others.

poseidonsfavchild: FINALLY a teenager 😈

bethchase: nobody leave ur cabins ITS FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY

gr0verunderwood: bro turned 13 and forgot how to act

poseidonsfavchild: bro is in his 20’s and beefing with a 13 yr old?

gr0verunderwood: SATYRS AGE DIFFERENTLY I TOLD U THIS

yn_yln: happy birthday baby bro 🔱🩵 (change ur username! it’s false 😃)

poseidonsfavchild: did he show up to ur birthday party??? DIDNT THINK SO

yn_yln: DAD WAS THERE?

lukecastell4n: another point scored against Father Time, i see you 💯

poseidonsfavchild: what do u know about fathers?

clarisselarue: nah u ate with this 😭😭

chrisr0driguez: PAUSE.

bethchase: percy.

poseidonsfavchild: sorry

tagged lukecastell4n, clarisselarue, and others.

yn_yln: another trip around the sun! thanks for not letting me drown, dad 🩵

poseidonsfavchild: how r u a child of poseidon and dont know how to swim? AT UR GROWN AGE?

poseidonsfavchild: happy bday tho sis

yn_yln: thanks percy 🙄

clarisselarue: happy birthday my love ❤️‍🔥

yn_yln: thank uuuuu clar i love u always

silenabeauregard: happy birthday pretty girl 🩷

yn_yln: thank u bae

lukecastell4n: here’s to another chapter of your legend. love you 🖤

poseidonsfavchild: how u managed to pull my sister is the biggest unsolved mystery of our generation

bethchase: can u say happy birthday like a normal person for once

chrisr0driguez: dont listen to the haters bro this one goes hard

yn_yln: love you always <3

tagged yn_yln, chrisr0driguez, and others.

lukecastell4n: more life

poseidonsfavchild: hey brother cake and candles man

poseidonsfavchild: salute to your birth anniversary bro

gr0verunderwood: roaring into another year of glory

bethchase: acknowledging your yearly ascent

clarisselarue: celebrating ur legacy day big dawg

silenabeauregard: marking another year of your strength

yn_yln: happy birthday lover boyyyy

lukecastell4n: thank you babyyyy

lukecastell4n: ik yall are clowning me in the comments but jokes on you, these comments go hard

poseidonsfavchild: ....

bethchase: luke pls

chrisr0driguez: NAH FR these are bars

liked by lukecastell4n.

[astrophileous]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I need anything fluffy (and I mean the most stomach churning, toe curling, quiet screaming fluff please 🥴🩷) for professor!spencer because I am actually frothing at the mouth DO YOU FEEL ME🗣️‼️ (mwah ily kith kith)

I might have written two blurbs for this request and I might have driven myself crazy trying to determine which one I should post so here's to wishing I didn't make the wrong choice 🤞 this one is special for you avis I hope you enjoy it MWAH 💖

Warning(s): gn!reader, I imagine reader being in grad school but you can imagine reader in college as well--that just means there's gonna be an age gap in there, if professor-student romantic dynamics isn't your thing you shouldn't be reading this, profanities(?), established relationship

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Have a good day, my love.

You grinned giddily at the text message popping up on the screen of your phone. Without wasting another second, your thumbs moved swiftly over the keypad as you typed in a response.

You too, honey. See you tonight at dinner <3

"What are you so smiley about?"

You quickly shoved your phone into the pocket of your pants before looking up towards the owner of the voice. Gladys stood to your left with a quizzical tilt to her eyebrows. Her eyes assessed you from head to toe before they landed back on your face.

"I'm not smiley. Who's smiley?"

"You are." Her eyes squinted. "Something smells fishy."

"You should check your bag. Maybe you accidentally threw your cat's wet food in there again."

"That was one time!"

Gladys scampered after you as you made your way into the lecture hall. Akbar was sitting on the third row when you walked in, immediately scooting over to make room for both Gladys and you to slip into your respective seats.

"Hey, did you guys hear?" Akbar asked as soon as you and Gladys plopped down next to him.

"Hear what?" Gladys asked.

"Apparently, some people are saying that Professor Chuckie is hitched."

Gladys' eyes grew comically wide. "He's what?"

Your brain was working in overdrive, trying to decipher whom exactly Akbar had meant by Professor Chuckie. Between him and Gladys, the two of them had a tendency of coming up with dozens of ridiculous code names for every single person they ever encountered in life, to the point where you were constantly struggling to keep up with them all.

"Who's Professor Chuckie again?" you eventually asked.

"Chuckie? From Rugrats?" Gladys hinted.

Your frown deepened. "Who?"

"Oh my God, (Y/N)." Akbar sighed. "You know the man. Fluffy curly hair like Chuckie from Rugrats."

After swimming in a pool of confusion for the next few minutes, Gladys eventually took pity on you and blurted out, "It's Professor Reid, (Y/N). Professor Spencer Reid from Criminology department?"

Your stomach dropped to the floor.

How did they—

"A buddy of mine was at the criminology lab today and told me that everyone was talking about it," Akbar explained. "The Spencer Reid is married. It's a huge news."

"Damn right, it is." Gladys scoffed. "Why are all the fine men in my life already taken? I hate it here."

Akbar rolled his eyes. "Right. As if you ever had a chance with him anyway."

As your two friends proceeded to bicker with one another, you felt yourself sinking deeper into a temporal abyss as your brain tried to process what Akbar had just said.

Spencer Reid is married.

Everyone was talking about it.

A lump formed at the base of your throat as you faced Akbar again, "Hey, how did they—how did your friend find out that Professor Reid was married?"

"He showed up to work with a ring this morning."

Your heart was racing inside your chest. "That's it? Not a very conclusive evidence, isn't it? Maybe the man just likes his jewelry."

"Nah, I'd bet my money that he's hitched," Akbar said. "My buddy told me one of the students tried to ask him about it and he just kinda smiled and nodded. Never really answered the question, though."

"That does sound kinda sus," Gladys opined. "Makes me wonder what kind of person managed to bag a specimen like that."

You hummed distractedly in reply, too busy mulling over everything to actively participate in the conversation your friends were having. Your professor strode into the hall barely five minutes later, and before long, the class officially began, forcing you to shake off any irrelevant thoughts about Professor Chuckie and his ring from the deepest corners of your mind.

Today was the day every group in class had to present their last progress report before finals rolled around. As soon as the fifth group finished their presentation, you walked to the front of the class with Akbar and Gladys following closely behind.

Akbar stepped towards the desk, trying to connect his PC with the class projector. He fumbled with the cable for a few minutes before he sheepishly glanced at you and Gladys. "I don't think it's gonna work. Either of you brought a laptop today?"

"I brought mine," you announced. "Wait here."

You ran back towards your table to grab your laptop before connecting the device to the projector. As soon as the desktop of your laptop appeared on the big screen, the entire lecture hall suddenly erupted in a round of synchronized gasps.

Gladys was staring at you, a clear sign of shock on her countenance. "(Y/N)?"

"Dude," Akbar muttered breathlessly. "What the hell?"

You swept your gaze repeatedly between the two of them and the rest of the class, confusion dawning inch by inch with every second that ticked by. "What? What's going on?"

Akbar nudged your shoulder, gesturing you to look behind towards where the projected screen of your laptop was being shown to everyone in the room. Your mouth instantly ran dry when you realized what had the whole lecture hall so stunned for the past few minutes.

It was a picture—the one you had set up last week as the wallpaper of your PC desktop but somehow had managed to completely forget about—of you and Spencer lounging on the living room couch of your shared apartment, holding up your hands to show off the identical bands encircling your ring fingers. Spencer was smiling big towards the camera with a protective arm wrapped around your shoulders while you peeked behind his neck with a portion of your face concealed behind his untamed curls.

It was a sweet photo to commemorate the most important day of both of your lives, taken merely hours after you exchanged vows at the city hall and entrusted each of your own hearts towards the other person to keep, nurture, and love.

And now, that same photo was up on the wall of Room 2404 as an impromptu spectacle for your entire Data Analytics class to see.

From behind the desk, Professor Clegg cleared his throat. "So, (Y/N). You and Dr. Reid, huh?" He peered at you from behind his glasses, not the slightest hint of a smile on his lips, but a brightly twinkling mirth in his eyes. "I guess congratulations are in order."

You exhaled a tired breath and replied, "Thank you, Professor."

Once your presentation was over, you retired back to your seat and discreetly typed in a message as another group came forward to present their work. You threw your phone into your bag after hitting send, trying to ignore the whispered demands of your two friends as they badgered you for answers.

Across the campus, Spencer's phone dinged with an incoming text.

He pulled out the device promptly, failing to contain his smile as he read the message you had just delivered to him.

Thanks a lot for the heads up 👎 Looks like there's no need for me to keep my own ring hidden in the wallet anymore >:(

[luvhughes43]

soft launch | quinns gf au

[quinns gf au 📖]

note: sydney & alicia are rosemarys friends the fics just haven't come out yet

_quinnhughes

liked by rosemary, bboeser, bradytkachuk, and 38 912 others

_quinnhughes 24

view all comments

jackhughes HBD old man

_quinnhughes old ? boy...

lhughes_06 happy birthday

rosemary happy birthday!

user35 is that a girl ?

user41 he has friends literally be serious who cares

user50 the aesthetic and cohesion of this post.... ohh he 100% has a gf

user26 don't say this!! i'll cry if it happens😭😭

rosemary

liked by _quinnhughes, sydney, jackhughes, and 1 009 others

rosemary lovers lane <3

view all comments

_quinnhughes you're gorgeous ❤️

sydney cutie girl

alicia lovee youu

user00 the prettiest! miss u ro

rosemary

liked by _quinnhughes, alicia, lhughes_06, and 718 others

rosemary you could say that renovations are going well

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_quinnhughes my foot is still bruised from the shelf you dropped

rosemary i am soo sorry about that but look how cute it turned out!

rosemary i bought bath bombs and cooked spaghetti as an apology

_quinnhughes im omw

sydney omfg it looks so good! i'm gonna come shopping tomorrow!

user00 Love the new renovations! Your grandparents would be so proud Rosemary!

rosemary added to their story !

months later...

rosemary posted

liked by _quinnhughes, sydney, trevorzegras, and 2,148 others

rosemary sweetheart summers💐📝

view all comments

_quinnhughes 💐💐

sydney obsessed with you

alicia cuties !!

trevorzegras 🤐🛸

user57 QUINN?? THE NOTE?? OMFG??

user68 girl what's it like being quinns gf?

user41 this HAS to be his gf omfg likee his comment??

user02 she's so pretty ugh he won

_quinnhughes

liked by rosemary, lhughes_06, _eliaspettersson, and 43 819 others

_quinnhughes best summer yet 💐

view all comments

rosemary my favourite ily 💘

_quinnhughes i love you❤️

jackhughes sap

lhughes_06 congrats man!

user71 never thought i'd see the day where quinn would post pics of his gf...

user42 im. hyperventilating.

user86 oh..

user53 SHOULDVE BEEN ME...

user90 you guys are so cute!! congrats

user23 HE .. LOVES.. HER..

user19 youre like 15 relax. he was never gonna date u!😭

user21 ohh rough day for the hughes girls (me) 😭😭

rosemary

liked by _quinnhughes, sydney, lhughes_06, and 5,891 others

rosemary my last few days in michigan have me in my feels

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_quinnhughes already counting down the days till i'm back in van with you

rosemary youre not the only one! my grandpa keeps asking when you can come visit😭🫶

_quinnhughes booking my flight back right now

jackhughes come back any time!

rosemary i don't think i want to leave😭

trevorzegras what are the plans for ur last night?

_quinnhughes you're not invited!

trevorzegras oh 🧍‍♂️

jacksgf pls don't leave me alone with the boys😭🙏

rosemary i'm sorry🫠💘

sydney on the bright side i can't wait for u to come home! imy!

rosemary i miss you too! night in when i get back ?

alicia ohh i'll bring the wine!

user09 THE cutest couple

user61 the last pic🫠 you guys are so damn cute

i'm so sorry this took me so long to post... i hope you guys like it!🫂

-

-

-

[callsign-dexter]

Ignited Desires 18+

Request: Ahhhh why do we love him so much !!! You totally fixed me on again with Kelly 😭🔥Now I also wanna send in an idea haha even though my birthday was just last week, you might still wanna get me a late present someday (oh I hope that doesn't sound rude) ILY 💗

My mind maybe thought of something where they are best friends and really close. During one shift you take a nap and get some really sexy dream of you and Kelly and then the alarm goes off, startling you completely. You can't process what your mind just did to you and seeing Kelly then makes you really nervous so you try to avoid him, which confuses him as well. You start overthinking your feelings towards the Lieutenant and you realize you might have feelings for him, more than friendship, which you discuss with Gabby private, but Kelly overhears you and is happy to hear that his feelings get returned, so he does something about it to make you his girl ? 

Hope that's not too weird 🫣

Pairings: Kelly Severide x Firefighter!Reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing, smut

Masterlist

A/N: Happy birthday or belated birthday to the anon that sent this in!

Finally, a break in the calls which meant that you could finally catch up on some sleep and you couldn’t wait. You have been on shift for a total of 24 hours now and there have been constant non-stop calls. You worked on Rescue Squad 3 with your best friend Kelly Severide and you loved it, you were the only female to work on Rescue Squad 3 and you were proud of yourself and Kelly was too. You two had been childhood friends who had lost contact and then reconnected when you made it to the fire academy and you both ended up graduating together and getting into the same house.

Recently you had been having more than friend’s feelings for a certain squad member, just seeing him in his work uniform and in action just does something to you. You had just gotten back from a call and jumped out of the truck with ease. You stretched your back and sighed in relief when it popped into place just about the time Kelly came around and smiled. “That sounded like a good one.” He said and you smiled and nodded.

“Indeed, it was.” You said and then returned back to normal and started taking your gear off and heading into the kitchen to grab a drink with Kelly following you. “I don’t know about you but I’m going to go and catch up on some much-needed sleep.” You said and he smiled.

“I don’t blame you. Have a nice nap.” He said and you smiled at him and moved past him and into the bunks. You claimed one and put your drink beside your bed and laid down, your eyes were quick to close and before you knew it you were asleep and in a dream. 

You had just walked into your and Kelly’s apartment after getting off shift and found him shirtless in the kitchen by the stove. He turned around and smiled. “Hello there my gorgeous wife.” He said and you were a little bit confused but you weren’t going to bring it up.

“Hello my handsome husband. What do you have cooking up?” You asked walking over to him and peeking down into the pout as you hugged him and he turned the stove off. 

“Your favorite but I think I want my favorite right now.” He said and before you could reply he kissed you hard. He turned you until you were facing him and he hugged you tightly. Kelly tapped your thighs and you jumped up and he sat you on the very empty counter still kissing you. He moved to your neck and started nipping at your skin and you let out a moan. You threw your head back and grabbed his head burying it further into your neck.

“Kelly.” You moaned out. He smirked and then he was breaking his attack on your neck and taking your shirt and bra off leaving you exposed to the air and him. He was immediately on your right breast taking your nipple into his mouth and giving it the attention it needed and then his other hand was trailing up your thigh and to where you needed him the most. “Kelly, I need you.” You said and popped off your nipple and looked at you.

“You have me.” He said and then attached to your left nipple giving it the same attention that he gave you right nipple as he held himself up and his hand got to your heated core and cupped it. You let out a pornographic moan and he smiled and popped off your other nipple. “That’s the sound I like to hear.” He said as he was quick to get rid of your jeans and underwear leaving you naked on the counter the coolness helped cool down your heated skin. He gently pushed you down until you were lying flat on your back and he kissed down your sternum and down to where you needed him the most. He licked a broad stripe up your folds that had you moaning. 

“Right there.” You said as he ate you out like there was no tomorrow. He took your clit into his mouth and sucked on it hard and then he was circling your entrance with his tongue, your hands spread out over the counter with nothing to grip onto. You were a moaning mess. Your body was heating up and there was a light layer of sweat on your skin. What brought you closer to the edge was when he brought his hand to your core and entered a long digit into your awaiting entrance and then he curled his finger and he hit your g-spot. “Kelly I’m close.” You moaned out and you could feel him smirk.

“Cum for me, Baby.” He said and that is exactly what you did. He slurped up your juices when you came down from your high, he was standing up. You looked up at him and his chin was glistening with all the juices that had come out. He was quick to get rid of his pants and you couldn’t help that he was hard as a rock and that had you drooling. “It’s all for you, Baby.” He said and then he was rubbing his erection up and down your slick folds and then pushing into your entrance and you both were moaning out in pleasure. “You’re so tight for me even after I loosened you up.” He moaned out and then he started thrusting into you at a slow pace. No matter how many times you had sex with him he always stretched you in all the right places.

“You’re so big. Stretching me in all the right places.” You said “Move faster.” You moaned out and he complied and he started thrusting faster. He was caging you in as you laid there on the counter, your legs wrapped around him making him thrust into your further. You loved it. You were close to a second orgasm. “I’m close.” You moaned out and then he started to slow down and you looked up at him and he was smirking, he was teasing you. You groaned but he gave a sharp thrust that had you moaning again. You don’t know how much time had passed but he sped up again.

“I’m almost there, Baby.” He said and then his thrusts started to get sloppy. “I’m cumming.” He moaned out and he thrust hard into you and stilled inside you, painting your walls white and that had you cumming too.

“I’m cumming too.” You moaned out and came hard with him. You both came down from your highs and then a loud bell sounded and then everything disappeared.

You jerked awake and looked around and then you heard the bell and was quick to jump up and rush out to the trucks. You didn’t have time to look at yourself in the mirror but you felt flushed. You pushed into the bay just as Kelly appeared in front of you and you froze. “You, ok? You looked flushed.” He said and you nodded.

“Yea, I’m good.” You said and got ready and onto the Rescue Squad 3 truck and sat away from him, normally you would’ve sat next to him but you couldn’t with that dream still stuck in your head so you sat next to Cruz. He looked at you weirdly but one look in his eye had you looking away and down. On the way to the call, you were still thinking about the dream and why your mind had you dream that. Sure, you were catching feelings for him but that was an intense dream and you were married to him. 

The call was quick and you successfully got the person out and sent them on their way to the hospital and now it was time to head back to the firehouse. Again, you opted to sit next to Cruz and you talked to him and the others but Kelly didn’t talk. He was trying to figure out what he had done wrong in the short amount of time when you left to have a nap back at the firehouse. When you arrived back you were out of the truck before it even stopped. Kelly watched you run off and take your gear off. Something was stirring inside of him to figure out what was going on and he was going to figure it out. He walked over to you and when you heard the sound of his boots approaching you looked up and froze. “Oh. Hey, Kelly.” You said and he noticed that you almost sounded nervous.

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” He asked and you looked at him.

“Nothing. Nothing is up. Why would you think something is up?” You asked rushing to get your words out, another sign of you being nervous and he looked at you.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked and you looked at him.

“No….” You trailed off and looked for an escape route and that broke his heart. What made you so scared of him in a short period of time? You then saw the girls and were quick to yell out to them and rush over to them. Then you were heading off with them leaving a confused and heartbroken Kelly Severide behind.

——————————————————————

Kelly was still as confused as ever. He tried to think back to what he could've done to make you so nervous of him and he couldn't come up with anything. Not knowing made him want to hunt you down and figuring it out and that's what he intended on doing just that. 

It had been 5 hours since he had seen you and it was slowly agitating him. He made his, what seemed like, 600th trip around the firehouse looking for you until he heard your voice along with Gabby’s voice in the kitchen, he swears that you weren’t there before. “What is up with you avoiding Kelly?” She asked and that made him stop.

“Nothing. What makes you think that I’m avoiding him?” You asked with a nervous laugh.

“I’ve seen him looking for you and whenever you’re around him you walk out of the room. What is going on? What did he do?” She asked.

“He didn’t do anything. Dream Kelly did.” You said and that took him by surprise.

“Dream Kelly?” She asked and you nodded.

“Yes, Dream Kelly.” You said 

“Tell me what happened.” Gabby said, sounding a little too excited. People passed by Kelly but they just kept going on figuring he was just taking a break.

“Ok, so it started out with me coming home and he was shirtless by the stove. I was married to him and it felt wonderful, it felt right. Well then, I asked him what he was cooking and he said it was my favorite and then he said that he wanted his favorite right then and there. He kissed me, hard, then he had me jump up and he laid me on the counter and we had full blown sex. He made me cum twice.” You said 

“Oh, that sounds like you enjoyed this dream.” She said and you nodded.

“Oh, yea I did. It just made me realize that I’m in love with him but afraid to admit it because it would ruin our friendship.” You said and that made Kelly smile, you felt the same way and he was going to do something about it. Just then the bell rang signaling Ambulance 61 and Gabby was rushing off. He made himself busy to make it look like he wasn’t eavesdropping. Once he knew that they were gone he walked into the kitchen. “Oh, hey Kelly.” You said looking at him and he just stood there “Everything ok?” You asked and he nodded.

“Everything is good.” He said and then strolled over to you, he grabbed your face gently and smashed his lips against yours making you grip his arms for support. When he kissed you sparks flew and the breath was knocked out of you, in a good way, you only broke apart when air was desperately needed and he looked at you. Your face was flushed and lips swollen and pupils blown, Kelly was the exact same way. 

“That was…. amazing.” You said breathlessly, he still had your face in his hands.

“I heard what you said when you were talking to Gabby and I feel the same way.�� He said and you looked up at him and kissed him again. When you heard noise coming towards the kitchen you broke apart and he grabbed your hand letting go of your face and let him lead you to his quarters. He opened the door and made sure the blinds were shut before turning to you and gently putting you back onto his desk and you moaned at the dominance. 

“Kels?” You asked as he was locking the door and making his way over to you where he kissed you hard once again and then licked your bottom lip which you gladly opened and his tongue dominated over yours quickly. As you two were kissing, the only time you broke apart was when he got rid of both of your shirts, he was quickly getting rid of your clothing and his clothing all at once until you both were left in nothing but your undergarments. Shoes and socks discarded long before the stripping started. 

Kelly broke the kiss and started to attack your neck with kisses, gentle bites and sucking, you were definitely going to have hickeys but you’ll deal with that later. His hands went to your back and expertly got your bra off and threw in the ever-growing pile of clothing he messaged each breast and you moaned leaning your head to the side giving him more access to your neck. Your hands went to his stomach and slowly trailed them down to his underwear and pushed them down and watched his erection come up and slap him in the stomach. Your hand went to it, started to pump it and you felt it twitch in your hand and he moaned into your neck. “Feels so good, don’t stop.” He moaned into your neck and then you got off the desk and down on your knees and looked him in the eye as you took him into your mouth and he moaned. He put one hand on your head not pushing or anything and the other went to his desk for stabilization. His head was thrown back in pleasure and he was moaning which just made you wetter than what you were before. You hollowed your cheeks and took him further into your mouth and felt him at the back of your throat you bobbed your head up and down and that had him moaning. You pulled back until it was just the tip and you swirled your tongue around the tip, you sucked him and then kitten licked him. He looked down at you as he backed up and you released him with a pop and saliva was connecting you and him. You raised an eyebrow. “As much as I want to come inside your mouth, I want to cum inside that sweet pussy of yours.” He said and you cleaned around nothing and moaned. He helped you stand up and then helped you lay back on his desk once again. He got down on his knees and pulled your underwear down and off of your legs and tossed them into the pile of clothing. 

Kelly just stared at your wetness and smirked knowing that he was the one to have done that to you. Just as you were getting ready to say something he was diving in. He started off by licking a broad stripe up your slickened folds and up to your clit where he swirled his tongue around it and bit it gently, causing you to moan. “Kelly, don’t stop.” You said and brought your hands up to your breasts and massaged them as he was holding your legs down since you were trying to buck up into his mouth. He circled your entrance with is tongue and gently slipped in slowly tongue fucking you and it was like heaven. “Kel!” You moaned out when he licked his way back up to your clit and gently bit it, you were so close to cumming. He pulled away for a brief second.

“Shhhh.” He said and you looked down at him. “Gotta be quiet.” He said and you nodded and then dove back in and this time your hands went to his head. You were close but you wanted to cum on his cock and so you were shoving his head back and he looked back at you with a questioning look.

“I wanna cum on your cock.” You said and he smirked and nodded and got up. You were exactly at the right level for him. He positioned himself at your entrance and pushed in and you both moaned out. He bottomed out and he fell on top of you but his weight went to his arms holding him up and not crushing you. Thankfully his desk was pretty empty at the time or everything that would have been on it would be on the ground by now. “Move.” You moaned out and he nodded and started to thrust into you at a slow even pace. Your nails dug into his shoulders, sure to leave indents of your nails into his shoulders, his head was thrown back in pleasure. You pulled him closer to you and that made him grab you by the shoulders and ended up holding you, which meant that he was thrusting deeper into you making you moan into his shoulder. “Faster, Baby. Faster.” You moaned and he started to go faster he then started to kiss you swallowing your moans and then he was pulling away from you.

“Damn, you’re so tight. Squeezing me.” He moaned out. The only sound in the room was heavy panting and skin slapping skin.

“Kel, I’m close.” You said and he nodded and looked at you.

“Me too.” He said and then one of his hands was tailing down to your clit and rubbing it while pinching it, helping you further get your orgasm. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He said.

“So big. So good.” You said blissed out in pleasure. His thrusts started to get more sporadic and his breathing was getting faster and so was yours. “I’m cumming.” You moaned out when he landed a sharp thrust and the combination of him pinching your clit had you cumming.

“Me too, Baby.” He said and then he stilled inside of you and he painted your walls white with his spunk. As you both came down from both of your highs, he slowly pulled out of you and watched as his cum spilled out of you. You sat up on your elbows.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you.” You said as you stood up and started to separate your clothing so you both could get dressed. 

“It’s ok. It hurt but now I know the reason. I’m fine with it.” He said as he put on his underwear and you put yours on and then you found your bra and slipped it over your shoulders and he helped you fasten it behind you. 

“So, what does that make us now? We’ve skipped several steps.” You said with a chuckle and he chuckled back as he latched the last hook and then found your pants and handed them to you as he found his. You both put them on simultaneously. 

“I was hoping you would be my girlfriend.” He said as he buckled his belt and you did the same. You paid and looked at him and smiled as he found his shirt and threw it on and tucked it in. He picked yours up and handed it to you. 

“I would love that. As long as you will be my boyfriend.” You said slipping your shirt on and tucking it in.

“I would love that.” He said and then he was taking you in his arms and kissing you. The kiss was starting to get heated again when the bells went off signaling for Rescue Squad 3 and you both groaned and pulled away looking at each other smiling. You both were quick to get your socks and shoes on and out the door. You both got to the bay and got your gear on and then hopped into the truck. You sat next to him, your usual spot and he looked over you just as you did too, he smiled at you and you smiled back. 

You had to thank that nap you took because if it weren’t for that nap and that dream you wouldn't be with the love of your life. You were very thankful for that nap.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@angenu01-blog

@talesofreading

@docockschest

[kenannlovee]

heyy could you write something like friends to lovers, where they’re at a party and marc gets jealous of another guy?

Jealous Boy(^o^)

You and Marc have known each other since you moved to Barcelona because of your parents' jobs

So here you are preparing for the party organized by Marc's friends to celebrate the goal he scored, You decided to put on a red dress that matched your heels, for makeup you decided to be something simple like some blush, lipstick Before you left, you put on some perfume that Marc gave you as a birthday present and you knew he was crazy about it.

Once there, you saw Marc and his buddies discussing about the match , and oh my God, he looked so good, he was wearing a T-shirt that showed his muscles, white jeans and some jordan's.

Y/n:"hey guys"

Marc:"hey beautiful"

Hector:"hey y/n"

Y/n:"What are you guys doing?"

Marc:"we-

Pedri:"Oh my I love this song, yn do you want to dance? "

Y/n:"Of course, Marc want to join us? "

Marc:"sur-

Pedri:"I think he's tired after the game, so let's go."

Pov yn:While I danced with Pedri I felt like someone was looking at me, and that someone was Marc he look so angry, I don't know why he was acting like that. As soon as the song ended, I felt someone pull me by the wrist leading me to a bedroom

Y/n:"Marc what you think you're doing, It hurts "

Marc doesn't say nothing and just kisses me without saying a word, It was wrong but I liked Marc, I saw him more as a friend so I accepted the kiss by grabbing his shirt, making that kiss a long-lasting one

Marc:"I love you yn from the moment I saw you when you came to Joshua birthday party I couldn't take my eyes off you"

Y/n"I-

Marc"I know you don't feel the same but-

Y/n:"I love you too" Marc doesn't say anything, just smiles

Marc:"I'm sure that's not how you imagined being asked, but I'm still going to ask you, do you want to be my girlfriend? "

Y/n:"YES, I WANT TO BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND.""but"

Marc:"But what? "

Y/n:"We have been missing for some time what others will think"

Marc:"They are our last concern plus I'm sure they're now drunk at what they consumed, so don't worry.Now all I want is to spend time with my girlfriend"

Y/n"Your girlfriend?"

Marc:"Yes.MY girlfriend.

--------------------------------------------------

Heyyy I hope you guys like it, and I'm waiting for more questions ily<3💞

[freelancearsonist]

all that we see or seem

➔ Dieter Bravo x AFAB!Reader

➔ 5.7k words

➔ You moved to Hollywood in hopes of chasing your dreams; you get a lot more than you bargained for from your new boss, Dieter Bravo.

➔ Rated MA // dark fic, reader is afab (female anatomy, no pronouns used) and generally able-bodied, age gap (unspecified, reader is younger than dieter), vampire!dieter, blood/both consensual and non-consensual blood drinking, knife use, slight self-harm, gore of the mouth variety, pet names, takes place in 1983 bc i’m a sucker for changing settings

➔ this was requested from this prompt list by the very lovely @sp00kymulderr!! happy birthday darling, sorry this took so long but i hope it's worth the wait <3 thank you so much to @missredherring for this AMAZING header graphic ily 🖤

Los Angeles is a far cry from the little town you grew up in. It’s a seemingly endless maze, with more possibilities than you ever could’ve dreamed. It’s a little daunting, really. You step off your plane with your suitcase in hand, and you feel like the world is in the palms of your hands.

The harsh reality comes crashing in without warning.

LA is expensive, especially on your own. As the money you’d saved up to get you started dwindles much quicker than expected, your dreams only get further and further out of reach. Life always finds a way to fuck you over, and the city of angels does it quicker than anywhere else. The glitzy neon nightclubs and the glamor of Hollywood swiftly become an omen of doom rather than a beacon of hope. You’re in over your head, but it’s too late to back out now.

Auditions get put on the backburner. You work yourself to the bone as a server in a dumpy little diner, but it’s still barely enough to cover your basic expenses.

You wake up, you go to work, you come home, you go to sleep. The cycle repeats itself so quickly that your days all merge together into one, long, neverending nightmare.

The light at the end of the tunnel appears shortly before the first anniversary of your move. You’re scanning through the paper during your meal break when you see a help wanted ad. It’s normally the type of thing you would ignore, but a few things about it draw you in. The part that really catches your eye is the large, bold letters that proclaim “work closely with one of the biggest names in hollywood!” It seems too good to be true, and certainly something you’re not qualified for. But it could be a start–a way to get your foot through the door of the industry that brought you out here in the first place. Really, what’s the harm in trying?

You go to the library, type up your resume, and mail it in to the address listed in the ad. Realistically, you know that there must be hundreds of other applicants and you probably won’t get so much as a rejection letter back; but the needling little ‘what if’ in the back of your mind gives you a boost of hope that you’ve lived without for an achingly long time.

You get better than a letter–a broad, handsome man shows up at the diner late one night asking for you three days after you drop your resume into the local mail slot at the post office. Janine, the shaggy-haired waitress you work with almost every shift and have sort of become friends with, nudges you excitedly while you’re handing a ticket back to the kitchen.

“Honey, do you know who that is?” She nods her head over her shoulder towards a table in the corner of her section and you try to look over as nonchalantly as possible.

Of course you know who that is. His face is everywhere in this stupid town–magazine covers, billboards, movie theaters. Even with sunglasses obscuring the dark brown eyes that have made thousands swoon, you recognize Dieter Bravo. He’s bigger than Hasselhoff and Swayze combined.

“He’s asking for you,” Janine whispers. “By name. You know him?”

“Not yet,” you answer truthfully. You know without a doubt that he’s here because of your resume and that your entire world is about to change.

You’ve seen him on the big screen before and now you can definitively say that it doesn’t do him justice. He’s more handsome than any man has a right to be. He’s wearing a black hoodie and black trousers, an ensemble that stands out in the brightness of 1983 but yet perfectly complements the tanned tone of his skin. His shoulders could fill a doorway and his smile might actually melt you into a puddle. You can’t help but notice–with a hint of trepidation–that his canines are the sharpest you’ve ever seen, although that thought is quickly pushed from your mind when he greets you by name.

“Your resume is impressive.”

“No it’s not,” you respond with a little laugh before you can stop yourself, then you have to refrain from banging your head into the wall. What a great start to an interview.

But he laughs, and you can’t help feeling you’ve done something right. You’d do a hell of a lot worse just to hear that gorgeously deep, hearty chuckle again.

“Okay, I’ll rephrase. You said all the right things. You’ve got exactly what I’m looking for as an assistant.”

You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, because this is much too good to be true.

“You’re not from LA,” he states factually. “What brought you here?”

You consider lying–coming up with some story that’s less pathetic than the truth. He’s appreciated your honesty thus far, though, and you don’t want to break a streak. “I wanted to act, but… it’s hard to get started when you don’t have any connections. So I’ve just been kind of… getting by.”

He nods and gives you a look over–assessing, you think. “We all have to start somewhere. But this isn’t an easy job.”

There’s something unreadable in his voice, but you choose to ignore it because you want nothing more than a chance to impress him. It’s not about ‘making it’ anymore; it’s about proving to Dieter Bravo that you’re worth taking a chance on.

“Neither is this,” you reply with a vague wave at the diner around you. “If I’m not covered in fryer grease at the end of the day, it’s a good job to me.”

He chuckles again and it washes over you like fresh water after years of drought. You want more of him–more of his charm, more of his warmth.

“When can you start?”

You ask for two weeks to leave your diner gig on good terms, and he’s gracious enough to accommodate you. As the days tick past, the anticipation ramps up and time seems to move slower. You’ve never been so excited for a new job. Normally, your gut twists with anticipation and your mind swirls with every little minute detail that could go wrong–but not now. No, now you’re just excited. The possibilities of Hollywood finally seem to be within your reach again, and it all starts with this job.

You learn a lot about Dieter within five minutes of starting on your first day. For one, he’s incredibly personable. He greets you himself and vows to show you the ropes. There’s no third party to teach you everything you need to know, it’s just him. Just the two of you. You appreciate that immensely, because you’ll be serving him directly as his assistant. There’s no better person to learn from when it comes to his desires and routines than the man himself.

Two, he wears many different masks. It’s a little spooky, the way his demeanor changes depending on who he’s dealing with. He can be the sweetest, most charming man you’ve ever spoken to, then turn to a producer and be a complete hardass all in the name of getting things done. He knows exactly what persona he needs to wear for each person he interacts with–it’s all very calculated. You suppose all actors have to be capable of that; the mark of a good thespian is being instantly able to pretend you’re someone you’re not.

Still, it’s a little chilling. If you didn’t see it in some form or another with every person you meet on set, you’d be a little concerned. Dieter just makes it look like adaptation–fitting into his surroundings as a means of staying afloat. He’s been in this industry for a long time, he knows what works; and, subsequently, what doesn’t.

As far as the job goes, it’s a nice change of pace from what you’ve become accustomed to. You spend nights on set with him, fetching his coffee order or running little errands while he’s busy shooting. The hours aren’t unreasonable, and it pays double what the diner did. Now that you’re not struggling to get by financially, you have the free time you need to start pursuing your dreams again.

You have only Dieter to answer to, which is a definite learning curve. Directors, producers, and even other actors chase after your favors, but Dieter tells them unequivocally to fuck off. You’re his–it’s a heady feeling each time he  reasserts it. It makes for easy work when you’re not being pulled in thirty different directions simultaneously. He asks for what he needs when he’s around and he gives you a list of tasks to complete when he’s not. He’s a little eccentric–he tells you he can only work after dark because his eyes are sensitive–but it’s nice, falling into a routine after so long of working unconventional hours at a job where no two days are the same.

Still, as days turn into weeks by his side, you wonder exactly what version of Dieter he’s presenting to you. Which face is the most authentic? You want to believe he’s himself with you, but you’re not quite naive enough to convince yourself of that. The thing that bothers you the most is that you want him to feel comfortable enough to drop the facades around you. You want to get to know the real Dieter Bravo, underneath all the masks. But you also swore to yourself, when you accepted this job, that you would be nothing but professional–and wanting to get to know him so intimately is definitely a step beyond just being his employee.

To his credit, he’s strictly professional–even if you wish he wasn’t at times. There’s a lot of rumors and gossip about him, about his hedonism and the life he supposedly leads at night, but you don’t see that facet of him. With you, he’s friendly, kind, and respectful. He’s the perfect gentleman–and that’s how you know that you’re not getting a full glimpse of the real him. There’s too much contradiction between the rumors and the Dieter that you interact with. 

No matter how straight-laced you try to be, you can’t help wondering what it’ll take to get a look at the real Dieter Bravo.

You think he starts to peek through when Dieter asks if you would be willing to work longer hours and be more of a personal assistant than a production assistant. You know him inside and out, he tells you, and it would be a pain in the ass to teach a whole new person how to deal with his errands. He even offers you a sizable raise when you pretend to be contemplating it, like you weren’t bursting at the seams to say yes before he even finished asking. 

The sad–maybe even pathetic–truth of the matter is that you’re falling for him. Every facet of his charm, from his darkly passionate eyes to his easy humor, have you completely bewitched and ready to ignore the way your hair stands on end each time his gaze meets yours. You’ll take any small fraction of him that you can get.

He eases you into your additional duties, at least; that much can be said in his favor. He starts you out with small tasks, like ordering his groceries and picking up his dry cleaning. Dieter’s so kind and patient as he explains how he likes everything done–he’s particular, but not unreasonable. He even gives you a grand tour of his home so you can see exactly where and how he likes everything done–it’s like finally getting that real glimpse of him that you’ve been hoping for.

His Sherman Oaks mansion looks like something straight out of a Bram Stoker novel on the outside, yet the inside is a testament to the warm side of his personality that you’re more familiar with. It’s decorated in shades of orange and red, with patterns that are a little out of date but still manage to feel intentional. It gives the impression of someone who was more comfortable and sure of himself in the 70’s, or at least someone who hasn’t quite adjusted to the new trends that came with the turn of the decade. The walls are covered with art–most of it signed with his familiar “DB” in the bottom right hand corner. It’s neat, but not so neat that it feels staged. It fits the Dieter Bravo that you know perfectly, and it even starts to feel like home to you when you start spending more time there with him.

There’s never anyone else around when you’re there. For someone who has a reputation for throwing the liveliest parties in all of Hollywood, he doesn’t actually do a lot of partying. Not when you’re around, at least. It’s almost like he’s trying to hide that aspect of himself from you. If he has to host, he sends you home early or lets you know in advance that you’re getting a paid night off. You’re almost disappointed–parties have never really been your thing, sure, but you feel like you need to experience at least one of his.

Plus, people are starting to talk. You hear it on set first; his co-stars whispering about how he’s gone soft, how he’s gotten boring. Even the tabloids are starting to wonder if they’ve seen the last infamous Dieter Bravo party, which were once highly coveted and exclusive events. The few times he’s hosted lately have been small, quiet affairs–definitely not the big, star-studded shebangs that he’s gained a reputation for.

A rumor even starts circulating that he’s finally decided to settle down with a nice girl, which makes your stomach twist with a little green monster that shouldn’t be there. He’s your employer, you reason. That’s all. No matter how friendly he is, no matter how much he flirts with you, no matter how much he compliments your perfect cup of coffee, that’s all he is. Your boss. And yet, despite your constant self-assertion, your brain just can’t seem to accept it. You know you shouldn’t want anything more than that, and yet you just can’t seem to stop yourself from hoping.

“What’s going on with you?”

You’re in the midst of trying to sort through the files in his upstairs home office so you can find out when his insurance needs to be renewed when you hear the voice, loud and clear due to the open floor plan downstairs. Sound travels like crazy up the double-wide staircase with Dieter’s office door right at the top. You couldn’t shut it out even if you wanted to–and you don’t. God help you, you’re a little nosy and a little curious.

“Nothing.” That’s Dieter’s voice, but you don’t recognize the other.

“Bullshit. You’re not yourself.” It’s a deep, rich tone that you’ve never heard before and it immediately has your interest hooked. Dieter doesn’t get many visitors, much less such purposeful ones. Most people like to schmooze him, but evidently not this unidentified man.

“I’m trying to be different,” Dieter explains half-heartedly. “It’s time I cleaned up a bit.”

“No. Cleaning up your act is nothing more than a good way to get yourself caught. Things happen in the party climate, that’s how you fit in. Things don’t just happen to nice rich actors.”

Caught? Caught doing what, exactly? You creep closer to the open door on light feet, curiosity peaked.

Dieter sighs, and you can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “I’m tired.”

“So what are you going to do? Just give up? Waste away after… how long?”

“Maybe I should,” Dieter retorts–there’s grit in his tone now, maybe even bitterness. “Maybe I never should’ve taken the deal in the first place. You don’t see how fucked up this all is?”

“So, what? You’ve gotten everything you could’ve possibly wanted, and now you’re tired of playing the game? Pathetic.” There’s a sneer in the tone of this unidentified speaker and you don’t like it. You want to jump to Dieter’s defense, but something tells you this is a conversation that you shouldn’t be eavesdropping on.

“Whatever, man,” Dieter scoffs dismissively.

There’s noise downstairs now–a slight thud and what sounds like Dieter grunting as if the wind has been knocked out of him. 

“What changed?”

“Fuck off,” Dieter spits.

“What. Changed?”

“You weren’t fucking honest with me.”

“Bullshit,” the stranger growls back. “You knew exactly what you were getting into.”

“No, you said everything I wanted, that was the deal. Remember?” It’s quiet for a long moment, and you wonder if Dieter’s pacing. He does that, when he starts to get stressed. “I’m still alone, though.”

“That’s your own fault,” the stranger replies–voice a little softer now. “I didn’t say I would hand you your dreams on a silver platter. You make your own destiny. Surely it hasn’t been so long that you’ve forgotten that little qualifier.”

“I can’t bring someone else into this shit and you know it,” Dieter replies. The venom is gone from his voice now–he just sounds done. Exhausted and spent.

“You can, but you won’t.” There’s a moment of silence, then a heavy sigh. “Start acting like yourself again before you raise too much suspicion.”

“Fine,” Dieter sighs heavily. 

There’s a few long moments of silence, and then you hear the heavy solid oak front door shut. Presumably the guest has gone, and while you’re eager to sneak down and see if you can catch a glimpse of who it might’ve been, it’s far too risky with Dieter down there. Something tells you that he should never find out about the way you just eavesdropped on that conversation. You don’t know who he was talking to, or what kind of deal they were discussing–you just know that it’s serious, and definitely above your paygrade.

“Did you find that paperwork?”

You didn’t hear Dieter come upstairs–his sudden question from right behind you makes you jump and whirl around to look at him. You fight to keep your calm as you catch your breath; the last thing you want to do is clue him in that you overheard his conversation with his unknown guest.

“Yeah, I’ve got it right here,” you answer after a thick gulp.

“You’re a doll,” he proclaims with a wide smile. How easily he picks up the face he wears with you after a conversation that clearly upset him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” you hum with a smile. “This entire room is a nightmare. It’s a miracle you ever find anything. You need to get, like… some filing cabinets. At the very least.”

“I’ll, uhh… get right on that,” he says in a way that makes you sure he definitely won’t get right on it.

Despite the nerves still thrumming through your veins, you laugh. “I’ll take care of it.”

“You’re a doll,” he repeats with his trademark grin. “Oh! Hey, uhh… you have tomorrow off. Paid, obviously.”

“Why?” You ask before you can think better of it. 

He seems surprised–you don’t normally ask questions, especially about paid vacation days. “Work stuff I gotta take care of. No big deal.”

“Okay,” you answer with a slight frown. “Sure I can’t help?”

He actually does seem to be contemplating it for a moment–his eyes scan over your body, and it’s like he’s considering you more than the actual offer. “No, honey, I’ll be okay.”

“Okay.” You take a short breath, then head towards the door–this was the last task on your list for the night. “Anything else you need before I head out?”

He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head as he follows you down the stairs. “No. Thanks, sweetheart.”

You feel heat fluttering underneath your skin at the pet name–he uses them often and they never fail to make your heart pick up pace. It’s like he can tell, because his eyes linger on your lips for a moment before trailing down to the pulse point on the left side of your neck. You wonder for a second if he can actually see it beating, but you quickly push that ridiculous thought away.

“You’re sure there’s nothing I can do for you tomorrow?”

His eyes are still trained on your neck like he’s completely zoned out or something. You watch as his tongue slowly glides over his bottom lip, trance-like; it makes your breath hitch in your throat.

“Yeah,” he whispers after a long moment–he’s standing so close now, you didn’t even notice him closing in. “I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

“Okay.” You want nothing more than to grab him and pull him in, to kiss him like your life depends upon it. He sounded so upset and every bone in your body is screaming to comfort him. The way he’s looking at you right now, you don’t think he’d mind at all. 

Instead you take a deep breath, grab your bag from the bench next to the door, and bid him goodnight.

Dieter doesn’t seem to realize that you’re always working, whether you’re on the clock or not. Even on ‘off’ days, you get loads of calls for scheduling requests and other tasks. Your saving grace is your trusty day planner—it holds both of your schedules, all neatly color-coded for maximum efficiency.

The worst thing you could’ve done on a weekend leading up to awards season is leave it in Dieter’s home office—and yet, as you frantically dig through your tote bag and your desk, that seems to be exactly what you’ve done.

You know Dieter’s got whatever event he’s hosting at home, but you can’t keep taking calls and scribbling notes on napkins without your schedule in front of you. The last thing you want to do is overbook him at a time where every single interview counts.

With a heavy sigh, you dial Dieter’s home number. It rings for what seems like eternity, and just as you’re about to hang up an unfamiliar voice answers.

“Hello?”

With a sigh of relief, you ask, “Hi, is Dieter there?”

“He’s busy.” The voice is high and sweet, yet her tone says she couldn’t be more irritated.

“Okay… umm, it’s kind of important.”

The stranger sighs dramatically. “I can take a message.”

“I just… I left something there, and I need to come get it as soon as possible. But I don’t want to interrupt anything.”

This time when she speaks, her tone is considerably more friendly. “Oh! Yeah, come on over. The more the merrier!”

You can’t help your intrigue, although you really don’t want to intrude without Dieter’s say-so. “Are you sure? I could always come tomorrow, I guess.”

“No no, come! It’s a party, everyone’s welcome!” Then the line goes dead without any further discussion.

You consider redialing in the hopes of speaking and clearing your visit with Dieter, but you doubt you’ll actually get through to him–and really, what harm would a quick visit do? You know exactly where you left it, on the desk in his office. It’ll be five minutes tops, a quick in and out. He might never even know that you’d been there.

You shake off the curious sense of foreboding that overtakes your mind as you grab your keys and lock your apartment door behind you.

It’s a twenty minute ride to Dieter’s house–a lot of time to spend thinking. At the forefront of your mind is that peculiar conversation you overheard last night; you’re not entirely sure why, really. Whoever that man was sounded almost as if he was in some kind of position of power over Dieter, and you don’t have even an educated guess at who that could possibly be. Dieter’s his own boss and he doesn’t take bullying–you’ve never heard someone get away with bossing him around like that before. He’s constantly in some weird form of pissing match with the directors and producers of whatever film he’s working on; he’s never seemed to be good at taking orders, even when he’s supposed to. You’ve heard many a rant about how much he values the ‘freedom of expression’. It all serves to make the mysterious visitor more confusing. Who does Dieter have to answer to?

The cab pulls up in front of his gated home before you’re able to find a plausible answer. You instruct the driver to keep the meter running since you’ll only be a minute before you step out into the crisp late-January air.

The grounds are a lot quieter than you expect them to be as the guard on duty opens the gate and closes it behind you. One thing Dieter’s famous for is noise–his parties are always reported as loud and exciting affairs akin to the fraternities in his favorite movie Animal House. There's no noise at all today, though, and it makes you curious. Is it really a party? Or was the stranger who answered the phone maybe his only guest? If the latter is the case, why would she want you to join in?

There’s a pale man in a cheap-looking suit waiting just inside the door, a tray of filled wine glasses in his gloved hands. “Take one,” he instructs, his eyes distant like he’s looking through you rather than at you.

“Oh, no thank you, I just need to–”

“Take one,” he repeats. “Master’s orders.”

Master? Of course Dieter would be into that. 

The wine is a deep red, probably that expensive vintage shit that he’s always raving about. You prefer the grocery store stuff yourself, not just because it’s all you can afford. A drink never hurts, though, and you could certainly use something to take the edge off–because that tingling sense of foreboding has only gotten stronger since your arrival.

You take a glass and swirl its currant-colored liquid around. It seems more viscous than any wine you’ve had before–probably a mark of its age, but that’s just guesswork on your part. You take a small sip, then nearly gag. It’s like drinking a pile of melted pennies. You swallow it down with a grimace anyway since you don’t want to make a scene of spitting it out in front of the server. It leaves a metallic taste in your mouth that you’re eager to wash out–thankfully, the kitchen is on your route to the stairs. You quickly deposit the glass on a table once you’re out of the server’s eyesight, then head down the hall in a desperate search for water.

Once you’re out of the foyer, there are people everywhere. Very subdued people, at that–draped over furniture like throw blankets, some even laying on the floor. You consider checking one’s pulse until he twitches and lets out a muffled groan. Clearly high on something, you’re just not sure what. You nearly trip over one person and they actually hiss at you like some kind of feral cat. Your skin starts to crawl with every step you take. Even more important than your discomfort, though, is finding Dieter. What if he’s like this, too? Do you need to call someone?

You notice a dull ache starting in your gums as you make it to the kitchen–thankfully you’re familiar with his home, and you have a glass of water in your hands within no time. It seems that no matter how much you drink, though, that coppery-bloody taste never leaves your mouth. What the hell was that stuff?

There’s a short-haired blonde woman propped up against the wall underneath the mounted phone; she reaches out a lazy hand in some sort of greeting. She looks vaguely familiar, like someone you might’ve seen on the set of one of Dieter’s films.

“You made it!” She says with a lazy smile. She must be the woman you spoke to earlier, although you’re not sure how she can identify you.

“Yeah. Where’s Dieter?” The longer you’re here, the more worried you become. Something isn’t right, and your skin is prickling with apprehension.

“Upstairs,” she murmurs, then her eyes flutter shut and she slumps a little further down. She’s visibly breathing, at least. 

For a moment, you consider picking up the phone and ringing the police. Would that cause more harm than good? Dieter must be aware of what’s going on here–you know you should talk to him before you do anything.

Your mission to find your planner momentarily forgotten, you make your way through the living room towards the stairs.

You check the office at the top first–there’s a few bodies zonked out on the couch, but none of them are Dieter. With trepidation in your very soul, you make your way down the hall. Each room is more of the same–people in varying states of unrest, no sign of the man you’re looking for. Most of them have red-stained lips and you eye more than one smashed glass along your journey. Your own mouth is starting to get alarmingly sore, but you ignore it in favor of finding Dieter.

Each step you take drives your worries deeper into your skull. What if something’s happened to him? What if he’s knocked out like all of his guests, or hurt, or something worse?

This is the first time you’ve breached the bubble of his bedroom. None of your work has ever involved this room, and while you’re a naturally nosey type of person, there’s something deeply personal and sacred about the space someone sleeps in. 

Ignoring the steady throbbing in your gums, you knock once before pushing open the door.

Dieter’s alone in his room, sprawled out like a starfish in a sea of rumpled sheets at the center of his massive bed. Something akin to a groan of horror escapes your throat as you see the state he’s in. He’s paler than a corpse and drenched in sweat, chest barely rising and falling with breath.

For a moment, you’re frozen in place. Your entire body breaks out in a cold sweat as you notice the knife in his right hand and the deep gash in the crook of his left arm, right where an IV would normally be set. You can smell the blood draining from him, you can even taste it in the air–or maybe that’s just the lingering taste of whatever you drank downstairs.

Your stomach churns violently with the sudden realization of what you’ve done, of what you’ve drank.

“Dieter!” You manage to choke out while your brain tries to remember how to send the signals required for your body to fucking move. 

He lifts his head shakily, brown eyes widening after a long moment of trying to recognize the face he’s looking at. “No no no,” he whispers hoarsely, “you’re not supposed t-to be here. You’re.. y-you’re supposed to be a-at home.”

A sharp, shattering pain in your top gum snaps your brain back into action. In a flash you’re crawling across a seemingly endless desert of mattress and it feels like you’ll never reach him. Everything is moving so slowly–each movement seems to take a hundred times the effort it should.

You spit out a mouthful of blood as the pain heightens, barely registering the two upper canines that go with it.

“What the fuck have you done?” You sob, uselessly pawing at his slashed left arm. It’s a precise cut straight across the artery–your hands are sticky and soaked with red the moment you touch him. Pressure, your brain screams at you. Put pressure on the wound.

“A real artist must suffer,” he mumbles weakly–then, even quieter, “I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”

“You’re dying.” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own anymore. It’s higher, breathier. 

“You drank it, d-didn’t you?” He asks, ignoring your statement. His distant eyes are trained on the sharp fangs that have pushed your canines out. “Fuck. Fuck! You were n-never supposed to…”

“Shut up, shut up,” you plead. Every shaky breath seems to cost him years. “How do I fix this? How do I fix you?”

“Thirsty,” he mumbles. There’s water on the sideboard, your brain reminds you. You don’t even remember bringing the glass with you, much less setting it down. Everything is so fuzzy. Your arm doesn’t move nearly as fast as it should when you reach for the glass, and Dieter’s hand weakly comes up to stop you.

“Not water,” he croaks. “Need… need…”

He can’t seem to form the words required to tell you what he needs. He doesn’t have to, though. You know.

“You’re not dying on me, Bravo.” You take the knife from his slack right hand before he can stop you and grit your sore teeth together as you slash it across your palm.

“N-no, don’t…” But he doesn’t resist as you hold your bleeding palm to his mouth. His empty eyes flash back to life with the first taste, and then he takes your hand in his own and drinks greedily. You watch with nothing short of disbelief as the cut on his arm seals itself right before your eyes.

“You were supposed to stay away from this,” he murmurs as his tongue sweeps across your palm. “Why the fuck are you here, baby?”

You don’t even remember anymore. Everything is hazy, everything hurts. It’s a chore just to keep your eyes open.

“Damn it,” he growls–pushing your hand away from his blood-smeared mouth seems to take all his willpower. “I never wanted this for you.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur as you slump down against his sheets. They’re so soft and light, and you want to cocoon yourself in them for the rest of time. “It’s just a dream.”

“Why’d you have to come save me? Huh?” His voice sounds so far away that you’re not even sure he’s really speaking. 

“I love you.” It’s okay to say that, because he’ll never actually find out. It’s just a dream, after all; you’ll wake up in the morning confused but totally okay.

“You were never supposed to,” his voice echoes from some plain of existence far, far away. “Damn it honey, stay awake just a minute longer.”

You try, but your eyes are so heavy. He sighs heavily, as if he knows it’s useless.

“Promise you’ll still love me when you wake up,” he pleads through the tunnel that separates you.

Nodding saps the last of your strength, so you let your eyes flutter closed. “Okay.”

You feel his lips against yours and his coppery kiss nearly brings you back from the verge of sleep. In the end, though, your throbbing head wins. Sleep takes hold quickly despite your feeble resistance. 

How strange it is to fall asleep in a dream.

➔ beta: @schnarfer and @futuraa-free thank you my lovelies <3

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