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#standing file cabinet
kalpanapapers · 3 months
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Elevate Your Workspace: The Artistry and Functionality of Handmade Paper Stationery and Innovative Office Organizers
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mokutone · 1 year
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also i want to say!!!! thank you to everyone who tipped me on kofi!!! we completed my goal for getting a filing cabinet!!! all my artwork is now safe from sunlight WHILE being organized :*D :*D
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fizziefactory · 1 month
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I decided to draw all the fizzies [+ @rollinpinwheel ] in their preferred casual outfits, the kind of clothes they'd not wear while out working (which some of them are able to do, while others never will)
Individual art, along with some notes, can be found here:
♡ Doctor+Therapist ♡ Caretaker ♡ Maid ♡ Factory ♡ Undertaker ♡ Loo Loo ♡ Manager ♡
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useful-boy · 1 year
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Weird girls love to fit themselves into small spaces that give them just enough room to not feel claustrophobic, but are closed off enough to make you feel like you're perfectly secure in your own little bubble
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kh2prologue · 8 months
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oc-tober day 15: meme
redraw of that one azumanga daioh bit. it counts i say so
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madibert · 9 months
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Library - Contemporary Family Room
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Example of a mid-sized trendy carpeted and gray floor family room library design with gray walls and a media wall
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cosmosis · 1 year
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MOVED TO @seratopia
miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - jealousy
miguel gets jealous possessive after a new intern flirts with you this is part of the same universe as my call oneshot!
Being 2nd in charge of the multiverse is... honestly not that hard for you. It’s mostly just co-leading, and being a secretary. Lyla helps out a bunch, but sometimes, a sassy AI can only do so much. 
Jess informed you of a new intern she recruited. Apparently, he’s having his first day today, which means you’ll probably have to do a quick run-through of things with him later. 
For now, it’s your fated duty to sit with Miguel at his desk so he doesn’t get all pouty later. He starts huffing and puffing when you aren’t near, takes it out on the kids sometimes. 
Thanks to your suggestion, Miguel invested in a nice desk and swivel chair for the office, so now it looks more like an actual workspace instead of a maniac’s plot room. (either way, he his one lmao)
Since Lyla’s gone for the time being, you’re standing up on the office platform, tapping away at a multitude of screens. Miguel lays lazily in the office chair, swiveled up behind you to rub his face into your upper back, as well as run his hands along your tummy. 
“Hun, you gotta let go. I needa tour the intern.” You mutter, closing in on an ID photo of the recruit.
“No.“
“Well, if I don’t do it, then who will?“ You ask. 
“Jess.“
“She’s busy on her break. Pregnant women need breaks, you know.“
“Ugh. I don’t want you to leave.“ He whines. squeezing you tighter. 
You start squirming out of his grip, pulling his pinky off of your stomach. Inching away, you push Miguel away by his head. Reluctantly, he starts letting you go, lazily running his hands onto the skin of your hips and lower thighs before letting go. 
“I’ll see you in a bit, baby.“ You say, scuffing up his hair with your palm. Gracefully, you leap down from the platform, somersaulting onto the floor and skating out the exit. You hop over a few stray cardboard boxes. 
Miguel watches you stroll away, and fixes his hair back into place. 
Lyla magically appears, phasing in and out with a different sly look each time. She snickers, flickering all around Miguel’s head. 
“Whipped.“
“Shut the fuck up.“
. . .
Miguel’s blood starts to boil as soon as you roll in with that stupid, bastard of an intern. He’s too close to you for comfort, so close to his arm nudging yours... Miguel’s teeth start to clench, his fangs close to drawing blood from his mouth. He’s paying too much attention to you, there’s a vibe he gets that he hates to his core. 
Everything about him is aggravating; the blonde hair, the snarky smirk, all of it.  
“...and this is Miguel’s office!“ You say, gesturing your hand to the majority of the area. 
“Sweet, nice to meet the bossman.“
Bossman, his ass. Miguel would only ever let you call him bossman. 
“Miguel! Come down!“ You yell, and his heart warms in his chest. He turns around from his standing form on the office platform, eyeing the intern in order to scare him a bit. 
“Hey, what’s up man! Glad to finally meet the man behind the slaughter!“ The intern exclaims, his hands rested on his hips. 
Miguel fights every urge to both roll his eyes and tackle the recruit, keeping a somewhat straight face on. He chuckles a little, not a single trace of a smile on his face. 
“Heh, yeah? Excited to meet the bossman?“ Miguel taunts, but it looks like the intern can’t tell he is. 
“Heck yeah dude! Where do I start?“
Miguel starts nodding a little, plastering on a face smile, chuckling a bit...
Before he throws the entire office chair at the recruit. Not to hit you, though. He’d never, ever hit you. 
Instantly, the intern turns away, shielding his body with his hands. In the nick of time, though, you latch your webbing onto the chair, slinging it away to side before it could harm anyone. You cross your arms. 
“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry about tha- MIGUEL!“ You scream. 
And he throws a literal file cabinet at the man. Again, you latch it out of way without problem. 
“What th'heck, man?! What’s your fuckin’ problem?!“ The intern yells, spreading his arms out. 
“My fuckin’ problem is you nagging my wife!“ He roars. 
“Wait a sec- she’s your wife?“
Miguel then  leaps down from the platform, chin held up high in a sinister glare. Slowly, he steps over towards the both of you, fixing his eyes on the intern the entire time. 
Miguel’s tall, really tall compared to the newbie. He pokes his finger to the recruit, leaning in real close. 
“Stay at least 5 feet away from my wife at all times.“ Miguel utters, and you kinda feel bad for the new guy. 
You cross your arms. “C’mon, Miguel. He’s literally new, take it easy on him!” You say back, and Miguel pouts, whines. Possessively, he reaches over to you, pulling in you in by the hip to try to soothe you. It doesn’t work, and you present yourself from giving into his needy touches.  
And then, you turn around back to the newbie. “Gosh, I’m so sorry about that! He’s usually not like this-”
“Man, fuck this.“ The intern exclaims, taking a few steps back in agitation. “Take me back home, I ain’t dealin’ with this shit!“
He storms off, kicking a stray cardboard box on the way out. 
“Aw, crap.“
“Finally.“
You swerve back around, hands on your hips. “Miguel, that was uncalled for.”
“Yes it was! He was smothering all over you!“ He yells, throwing his hands up in the air like it was the most obvious thing ever. 
“Well, now thanks to you, we lost a recruit.“
“One of literally thousands!“
“And now, there’s papers everywhere on the floor!“
“Shhh, honey, I’ll clean it up later.“
Ignoring your frown, Miguel finally pulls you into him, pressing your lower back into his own with a nose into your hair.
“I saw the way he put his arm around you. He was flirting with you too. Hated it.“ Miguel utters. 
“When?“ You ask.
“On the surveillance.“ He says, and you sigh. He’s right, the guy was flirting with you for a bit, but you chose to ignore it so you could get over with the tour faster. 
“Eh, he gave me the heebie jeebies from the beginning.“ You say, and Miguel automatically squeezes you tighter into him, a deep grumble bellowing from his inner throat.
“I’m never letting you tour anyone ever again.“ Miguel admits.
“After that? Go ahead.“ You scoff, and finally, he sighs in relief. 
He tries drags you back to the office platform again, but then forgets that he threw the chair, grumbling in regret. Instead, he just hovers behind you for the rest of the day, occasionally pressing a smooch to your head. 
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hazelfoureyes · 3 months
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A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)
saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)
Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127
Minors DNI
When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.
The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.
So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.
Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.
But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.
When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.
Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.
You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.
The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.
Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”
He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”
“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.
“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.
Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.
“And?”
“What are you doing?”
“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”
You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.
“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.
“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.
You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.
“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.
“Huh? Do what?”
“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”
“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”
"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."
You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."
A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."
Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.
"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.
"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.
"Sir." He chided.
"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."
"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.
A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.
You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.
“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.
He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.
“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.
“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.
You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.
As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.
When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.
“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.
“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.
“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.
“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”
“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”
“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”
His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.
“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.
You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.
When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.
“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.
His tongue slowed.
“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.
Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.
So close.
“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.
You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.
Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.
Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.
With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.
You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.
“Yes, sir.”
*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out
༻Masterlist༺
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harrie-cc · 1 year
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The Coastal Collection - Part Three
The time has finally arrived, its kitchen month..or should I say kitchen month part 1! There were just so many more items that I want to add into this kitchen that I've decided to roll the concept over into a second month and include the appliances I couldn't fit into this first part along with furniture for the dining room.
But back to this month...
The set includes:
Kitchen Counter (wood countertop)
Kitchen Counter (marble countertop)
Accent Kitchen Counters x2 (wood & marble countertop)
Kitchen Island (wood countertop)
Kitchen Island (marble countertop)
Kitchen Cabinets w/ Trim (pre-cluttered)
Kitchen Cabinets (stackable) (empty)
Glass Accent Kitchen Cabinet (w/trim & stackable)
Farmhouse Sink (with tea towel)
Farmhouse Sink
Seamless Marble Sink
Clutter items (cereal boxes, tins, cans, cake stands, plates & bowls)
NOTE: The kitchen island has a unique right ending piece, if you'd rather have them matching you can find another right ending piece in the curved inner counter slot...nobody ever used that ugly piece anyway! 😂
As per usual textures are linked between similar items, so if you download the unmerged file, make sure to include all items from that family, so the textures appear correctly in your game
Patreon Early Access Now Available
Public Release: 4th May
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mariasont · 2 months
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can you do aaron x wife reader who also works in the bau with him & on a case a police officer openly flirts with aaron in front of the team and reader so she stakes her claim on her husband && the team ( mostly derek & pen ) are teasing the two of them for it ??
Marked Territory - A.H
A/N: AHHHHH thinking ab claiming aaron hotchner as ur man has me giggling & kicking me feet
THANK you sooooo much for requesting angel <3 hope you like it!
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
wk: 1.2k
pairings: aaron hotchner x wife!bau!fem!reader
warnings: heavy makeout, jealously
You stood a few feet away with a watchful gaze, arms locked across your chest. The consultant was laying it on thick, her eyelashes sweeping up and down in a practiced rhythm aimed at Aaron. It made you want to throw up. You couldn't help but let out a soft, almost inaudible scoff. The consultant's laughter pierced the quiet, an exaggerated display that felt out of place. Her hand rested on Aaron's arm a moment too long. Your glare could have set the room on fire, you were sure of it, and it only seemed to intensify when Aaron offered a polite, yet distant smile in return.
"Careful there, sugar," Derek joked, sliding into place beside you as he nudged your side. "You're about two seconds from turning this into a crime scene."
You offered a half-glance towards him, "I suppose I can't fault her taste," you said with a forced lightness, even as a twinge of jealously coiled tightly within you, your attention fixed on the hand that dared to claim familiarity with Aaron. "But good taste doesn't come with good sense, apparently."
Penelope swept in with a gasp that could rival a Greek chorus, her eyes wide with a feigned shock. "Wow, I could practically taste your fury from down the hall! Mrs. Hotchner, are we in strategy mode, or should I grab some popcorn?"
You rolled your eyes with a dismissive wave. "You two are ridiculous. What do you expect me to do? Drag her by her hair? Please, I trust Aaron," you stated firmly, because, well, you did. This, however, didn't stop the tiny spark of irritation that flickered within, unbidden and unwelcome, but you squashed it with a laugh. "Besides, if I started a catfight every time someone flirted with him, I'd need my own filing cabinet for all the assault charges."
A glance was all it took for Garcia and Morgan to share their amusement. "Sure, sure," Garcia drawled, her voice dripping in sarcasm.
Morgan's eyebrow arched in silent agreement as he smiled knowingly. "Of course, you're calm. But we both know if that bubble of anger pops, it's going to be one hell of a show."
You tried to ignore it; you really did. You buried your nose in your work, determined to keep your mind off that infuriating woman. You shuffled papers, dove into your case files, and tapped away at your computer with a vigor that doesn't go unnoticed by the team. Every time you caught a glimpse of Aaron, there she was--the consultant--hovering like a shadow. It's almost comical how she mirrored his every move, but you were not laughing.
You found reasons to be anywhere but where Aaron was, taking your coffee break when he's in the break room, opting for the stairs when he took the elevator. It's a dance of avoidance that has you mentally exhausted, but you're trying to channel your inner zen, and being around that woman is doing you no favors.
The office air is thick with tension, a tangible presence that envelops your desk, your focus splintering with every laugh and hushed conversation that drifts over from Aaron's direction. You're the very image of concentration until you see it--the consultant, her proximity invasive, her hand lingering on his shoulder with a familiarity that sears through your veneer of calm. It's the tripping point, the moment your restraint fractures.
You stand, a fluid motion that betrays her anger that charged the room with an energy that has the whole team's attention snapping to you. They recognize the signs--the firm line of your jaw, the fire in your eyes--a rare display that signals an unstoppable force is about to be set in motion.
"Hotch," the name is a clear, firm declaration across the room, a tone you usually reserved for the field. "Can I speak to you for a second?"
The room falls still, a collective breath held by the team as Aaron excuses himself and follows you into his office. The door closes behind them with a soft click, leaving just the two of you. His gaze meets yours, a furrow of worry creasing his brow as he takes in the tempest swirling in your stance.
"Honey, are you alright?" he asks, the professional facade giving way to a soft undertone of worry, as he takes a deliberate step towards you, his eyes searching yours for signs of distress.
With a swift assurance of privacy, your eyes lock on the drawn blinds, and you waste no time diminishing the space between you, hands clasping up to his neck with an urgency that pulls him down to you. Your lips found his in a fervent collision, coaxing a surprised murmur from him. He softly pulled back, his chuckle deep and knowing, as his hands encircled your waist. 
"Honey--I, we're in the office."
His words may have carried a hint of reprimand, but the gentle exploration of his hands across your back drawing you nearer seemed to contradict him. An innocent smile graced your lips as your fingers wove through his hair, eliciting his head tilting back in contentment. "Just missed you is all."
An eyebrow lifted in amused acknowledgement. "Mm, is that so?"
Gently tugging his head closer, your lips crashed against his with a desperate intensity, your hands gripping him as if he were a lifeline.
With deliberate strokes, you raked your fingers through his hair, creating artful disarray. Your hands glided to his tie, tugging it just enough to break the perfect line, then across his jacket, crumpling the fabric with feigned carelessness. Each touch a strategic step in enhancing his unkempt image.
A gentle exhale escaped you as he pressed you back against the desk's edge, his hands forming a cage around you, both protective and possessive.  Your lips curved into a smirk, your teeth capturing his bottom lip and tugging with a teasing pressure, probably a little harder than you should have, causing him to pull back. "Christ, sweetheart."
Instinctively, your hand rose to trace his bottom lip, smoothing over the swollenness your teeth had caused. A soft smile graced your features as you took in the delightful disarray of his appearance. With a satisfied nod, you left a featherlight kiss on his cheek and glided towards the door. "I love you, Mr. Hotchner."
His eyebrows knit together in loving exasperation as he observed your retreat, his hand absentmindedly caressing his lip. God, you kept life interesting. "I love you more, Mrs. Hotchner."
Emerging from Hotch's office, your hair perfectly disordered, a small smirk etched on your lips. You watch as the consultant's eyes stretch wide, a flush of embarrassment covering her cheeks. With a sly wink tossed her way, you glide towards Penelope and Morgan.
"Well, well, well," Morgan drawled, a sly grin spreading across his face as he watched the scene unfold, arms folded confidently over his chest. "I had a feeling those claws were just waiting for the right moment to strike."
"That's our girl! Showing the world whose boss without breaking a sweat." Penelope chirped. "Well, I mean, maybe a little sweat. I'm seriously striving not to speculate about what you two were doing in there."
A playful smirk dances on your lips as you peer over your shoulder at Hotch's door. "Just wait for it," you tease, fingers poised for the dramatic reveal as you count down. "3, 2, 1.."
Right on cue, Hotch steps out, looking every bit as ruffled as you'd intended. His tie hangs crooked, his suit crumpled, and you didn't miss the dark red tint around his bottom lip. The sound of Morgan and Penelope's laughter filled the air as you offered a nonchalant shrug. 
"It's all in the day's work, besties. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do."
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kalpanapapers · 3 months
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augustinewrites · 9 months
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once shoko opens her door, you offer her a half-hearted smile and hold up your bottle of wine. if there’s one person you can count on to help drink your feelings away, it’s—
“i actually can’t tonight,” she sighs. “i have an exam tomorrow and i already had a few drinks so…”
“wait, shoko—” you catch the edge of the door, sighing as you admit, “i think satoru is cheating on me.” 
she pauses for a second, as if checking to see if you’re serious. 
then, “you open that up. i’ll get the glasses.” 
“thanks,” you grin, following her inside. 
“do you need anything else?” she calls from the kitchen. “a hug? baseball bat? an alibi?”
“no need for glasses, and we don’t need the other stuff…yet,” you grimace, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a swig, kicking the door shut behind you. “and i don’t know for sure that he’s cheating, but he’s just been so weird lately.” 
“weird how?” your friend asks, pushing aside the textbooks she has open on the couch cushions before gesturing for the bottle. “it’s gojo, you’ve gotta be more specific.”
you hand her the tequila, shaking your head. “it was small things at first. showing up late for dates or just cancelling them. not telling me where he’s been all day. then last night i saw this text on his phone…”
shoko’s brows raise. “you were looking at his messages?”
“no!” you exclaim. then, when your best friend sends you a look, “okay, i didn’t mean to! he left his phone on the nightstand while he was in the shower and i looked at it when it buzzed with a text from someone named megumi.”
“oh,” shoko realizes, eyes widening. “that’s a girl’s name.” 
you both sit in silence for a moment, passing the bottle back and forth. your phone buzzes a few times in your pocket - undoubtedly satoru asking why you’ve been avoiding him all day - but you ignore it.
“let’s confront him,” shoko proposes once you’re halfway through the bottle. “find out once and for all.”
“okay!” by now, you’re buzzed enough to think this is a brilliant idea, standing on unsteady legs as shoko calls for a cab. 
_____
“hey,” your boyfriend smiles weakly once he opens the door. “wait, what’s shoko doing—”
“where is she?” she asks, pushing past the both of you to walk into his apartment. she begins flipping up couch cushions and checking behind curtains. 
“what’s going on?” satoru asks, letting you push him inside. he looks down at you, concern clouding his expression. “what’s she talking about?”
you’re not sure if it’s liquid courage or frustration that causes you to blurt, “are you cheating on me?”
“what? of course not—”
“then who’s megumi?”
“he is toji’s six year son!”
your eyes widen. shoko freezes, halfway through opening a cabinet. 
toji…had a son? “so he’s a— a—”
“he’s a zen’in,” your boyfriend confirms. it’s as if all the air leaves your lungs when he says that, catching in your throat. “his mom passed, and after toji…i couldn’t just leave him alone. apparently toji made some deal to sell the kid to the zen’in clan, and i didn’t want…so i filed for guardianship.”
“guardianship,” you echo. “you’re planning to raise the kid on your own?
“his sister too.” 
“i’m gonna go get a cab home. let you two talk,” shoko laughs nervously, speeding out the door. 
satoru walks over to the couch once she’s gone, sitting the edge and hiding his face in his hands. “i’d get it, you know.”
“get what?” you ask, sitting next to him.
“you didn’t sign up for this,” he sighs. “taking in two kids— it’s a lot. but i couldn’t do nothing. he’s going to need someone to help him. teach him. care about him. so he doesn’t end up like…”
he doesn’t finish his sentence. you don’t make him. even after a few years, the heartache of losing your friend causes a dull ache in your chest. 
though…he’s right that you didn’t sign up for any of this. kids were the furthest thing from your mind at this stage of your life, not to mention this stage of your relationship. 
but if satoru, who is barely an adult himself, can find it in his heart to do what you know in your mind is the right thing…
“then i guess it’ll make the next few years of our lives pretty exciting,” you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. 
“our lives?” he repeats, sounding shocked. “you’re…staying?”
you draw back to meet his pensive gaze, though it melts away when you offer him a small smile. you see him in this moment. 
so you cup his face in your hands, thumb softly stroking his cheek. “you didn’t think i would want to stay?”
“i hoped,” he murmurs, lips brushing against the inside of your wrist. “but i didn’t know for sure.”
“well, i’m not going anywhere,” you assure him, kissing the tip of his nose. “even if you’re a monumental pain in my ass.”
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fizziefactory · 26 days
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"The Undertaker's coming..."
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luveline · 8 months
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Badass!reader in the verge of crying but still pretending like she isn't? Spencer doesn't even try anything and he just lets her be until eventually she cries? Just some hurt/comfort :)
If it's a no please feel free to ignore this! Have a lovely day jade <3
tysm! hope this is okay angel ♡ fem!reader, 1k
"Irresponsible, sloppy, and pig-headed." Spencer winces. "I expected more from you. I'm extremely disappointed." 
Spencer winces worse. You can take a scolding. You can take a beating. But disappointing the people you care about, and disappointing Hotch? His chest hurts for you.
He pretends to have been reading as the door to Hotch's office opens and you step out, glancing up as you take the stairs down into the bullpen. Your desk is adjacent his and Morgan's, crowded by case files you nearly send flying as you hurry into your chair. 
Spencer takes his computer mouse and clicks on the work contact page. Your instant messaging is still open, the last message he sent you glaring and awkward, hey, think hotch is going to call you in for cincinnati. don't stress. 
You'd opened it but not answered. He peeks around your monitors to analyse you. You're staring hard at a single spot. The longer he looks, the glassier your eyes become. 
He sighs and cracks his knuckles, thinking. The last thing you want is for him to make a big deal of this, he knows that, but he needs you to know that he's here for you. 
"Did you want to get dinner tonight?" he asks without raising his head. 
You respond eventually, two seconds too slowly, "Where from?"
Your voice is fraught with the weight of your upset. Spencer ignores it for now. "Luh Bem?" 
"If you want to." 
"What I want is a cup of coffee." He stands, still without staring at you —an impressive feat of self control— and begins toward the office kitchenette. Predictably, you follow him. He's already putting a second mug beside his own when you step into his reach. 
"So, did you want to go?" you ask. 
Spencer nudges your hip with his gently. "Duh. What else would I wanna do on a Friday?" He makes your coffee exactly how you like it without asking and leaves it billowing steam by his own as he adds his five sugars. 
Bringing his coffee to his lips and turns, he leans on the counter. You do as he does, murmuring a thank you as you pick up your mug. Spencer lets his arm rest on yours, ever so slightly taller, more as your back begins to slouch unconsciously. There's no point in asking you if you're okay, because you'll say that you are. There's no point in trying to comfort you, because, despite your affection for him, you're not someone who cries easily in front of others. It would have you pushing him away. 
You're a nice girl under all your hardened exterior, and Hotch's disappointment hurts. You try very, very hard not to cry, swallowing and taking little sips of your hot coffee. 
You press your coffee into his hand and turn your body toward the cabinets, away from the office. Spencer waits, and waits, his relief immeasurable as you finally hide your face in his shirt sleeve and sniffle. Even though his heart breaks for you, he's glad you're giving in. You need to let stuff out before it eats you alive. 
He puts the coffees down behind him one at a time so as not to disturb you. Hands free, he lifts the hand furthest from you to your arm. If you were somewhere more private he'd hug you to him by the small of your waist. For now, he rubs a short line down to your elbow. Up, down.
"He was being harsh," Spencer says quietly. 
"Sorry," you whisper. 
He can't imagine how mortified you are. You won't sob or even shake, but these hot and fast tears aren't unfamiliar to him. Theyll be followed by an abundance of remorse.
"What are you sorry for?" He pulls you in closer, a squeeze of a hug. "You're okay. It's okay, he's just– he's mad about other stuff, he's upset about Beth. It's not just you." 
"He's right, I messed up," you say, your breath hitching. 
"You messed up," he agrees. "It was an accident. You'll be better next time." 
You sniffle rough and lift your face, wiping your tears with a cruel hand. Spencer takes your wrist in his hand to stop you, turninh to cover you from any nosy eyes. His fingertips are as soft as his voice wiping the rest of your tears away as he laments, "Please don't cry, don't get upset." Your face is hot to the touch. "Don't be embarrassed." 
"I'm not crying," you say, a last teardrop streaking from the corner of your eye. 
He wipes it away. "Okay." 
You pout at him like you want to cry more, and Spencer wouldn't mind, he'd stand here wiping your tears for hours if you needed it, but that's your worst nightmare. 
"Are people looking at me?" 
"Nobody's looking," he answers honestly. "You're only making a scene for me." 
You laugh but quickly cough. Spencer takes his opportunity to hug you and pats your back, considers kissing the side of your head but can't make himself commit to it. 
"Do you still wanna get dinner?" you ask weakly. 
"Yeah, I do. I really do. I'll get you whatever you want." 
If it were Morgan offering, you'd step on his foot. For Spencer, your clear and evident favourite, you nod into his chest, your hand slinking low on his back. 
He hugs you so hard he feels his ribs. 
"Wanna sleepover and watch Golden Girls?" he asks, prepared for rejection. You're the type to lick your wounds alone. 
But maybe in the privacy of Spencer's apartment you'll let yourself be upset properly, so he can comfort you appropriately. It aches how badly he wants to rub the tight space between your shoulders, tell you it's fine, you're fine, and one mistake doesn't define you, it never could. 
It's evidence of your affection for him that you agree. "Could we get the dinner to go?" you ask. 
Spencer tries not to look to triumphant. He's going to coddle and comfort you half to death, and by the looks of you, you're happy to let him. "Absolutely. Whatever you want." 
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charliemwrites · 5 months
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Part 3 of angst with SpecGru (former 141) reader.
Who’s ready for Simon to face the consequences of his actions?!
(No content warnings)
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The reunion is dry. Simon almost doesn’t recognize you. There’s a new scar on your right cheek, and a tattoo sneaking beneath the sleeve of your compression shirt. You don’t look at him once, eyes either forward or on your own captain while he talks to Price.
“Good to see you again,” Price says to you.
It’s only then that your eyes shift to him, something distinctly unimpressed about the set of your eyebrows. “Good?”
“Yes. Good.”
You don’t answer, instead flick a look to the man on your right. Russ, Simon remembers from the files Laswell distributed. Wears a mask almost always as well. Something passes between you two in that glance, something Simon would dare say is mocking. Can all but see you rolling your eyes like you used to when the brass was blowing smoke.
“We’re not here for small talk,” your new captain interrupts. “Where are we bunking?”
The SpecGru team sweeps you away with them to their side of the barracks. The man on your other side, covered head-to-toe (Nikto, Simon’s mind supplies) casts a lingering glance over his shoulder at the rest of the 141.
“Brr,” Soap says when you’re all out of sight. “That was chilly.”
“No kidding,” Gaz says, grimacing.
Price sighs, runs a hand down his face. There’s a beat where it seems like he might speak, might comment on the ice radiating across the tarmac. Instead, he just shakes his head and waves them off.
Simon doesn’t let himself make a beeline for the barracks. For you. He made you leave for a reason. Two years doesn’t change anything.
He sees you at the mess later, with the rest of SpecGru. Russ’s hand arm around the back of your chair and your knee against your captain’s.
The seat you used to occupy with the 141 remains empty to this day. Not once during that meal do you glance at it, or them. Simon knows; he watches you the entire time.
You pad into the rec room kitchenette the next morning one feet quieter than they used to be. Your eyes register him, a little puff of air coming from your nose. Don’t say good morning — though neither does Simon.
“Tea’s in the right now,” he says when you reach for the left cabinet.
You don’t even twitch to acknowledge that you’ve heard him, pulling out the coffee grounds and busying yourself at the machine. When did you start drinking coffee? You used to make tea for everyone on the team first thing in the morning.
He’s about to say something when Russ swaggers into the room, still adjusting his mask.
“Mornin’ sweets,” he says.
You shoot him a smile, tilt your head as he kisses your cheek loudly through the mask. Simon freezes.
“Don’t feel like talking yet?” Russ asks.
You shake your head, offer him a sip from your mug. He accepts, winking as he hands it back.
(That’s new too. Used to be you couldn’t shut up in the mornings, chattering to whoever was nearby.)
“This is a public space, you know that right?” Simon rumbles.
“No shit?” Russ asks, eyebrows obviously arched.
You snort and lean up against the counter, cupping your mug in both hands. At least that’s a mannerism Simon recognizes.
He doesn’t rise to the bait, stands from his chair. He’s done with his tea anyway and he’s got shit to do before the team exercises later.
When he passes just within arm’s reach to rinse his cup out in the sink, you don’t tense. Or even move at all, except to take another measured sip of bitter coffee. (Didn’t you have a sweet tooth?)
He leaves just as Nova is stepping in, singing a honey-sweet good morning to you and Russ that makes Simon’s teeth ache.
The exercises are brutally efficient. Not a single member of the SpecGru team speaks to the 141 more than necessary to complete the objective. There are no words of praise or attempts at camaraderie between drills.
Which is not to say there isn’t any at all. Simon sees you scoop Nova up when she bests Soap at a tricky maneuver, laughing bright and bell-like while the rest of your team looks on. Nikto touches your shoulder after you disarm Price of his knife and you beam at him like the fucking sun.
It’s sets Simon’s teeth on edge. How well you fit with them — better than you even did when things were good with the 141. When one of you moves, the other four compensate, no one left unprotected, room left for stumbles or mishaps.
Your captain tugs your belt when you pass him, and you grin as you peck his jaw, before trotting off to a soft-eyed Russ.
Simon can feel Johnny’s eyes bouncing between you and him, waiting for… something. Fuck’s sake. Simon tamps down the agitation crawling beneath his skin and sets up for the next drill.
“Oi, we need to start mixing. We can guarantee that our teams will stay separate,” Price calls to your captain.
He grunts, but jerks his head at the rest of the SpecGru folks. You stay separate, adjusting your gloves as if nothing in the world is wrong.
“Wait, she needs to—”
“She needs to follow my orders,” your captain interrupts. “And her orders are to operate solo for this drill.”
You nod and dart off without another glance.
Simon’s fingers twitch.
“Something wrong, Ghost?” Keegan leers, thumbs hooked in his belt. “You don’t wanna work with me?”
“Fuckin’ Yanks,” he mutters.
Keegan laughs like SImon’s told a hilarious joke. Thankfully, he shuts the fuck up for the rest of the drill.
Your voice is back in Simon’s ear for the first time in two years, working as overwatch. You direct the teams like a master conductor, covering with perfect sniper shots where necessary. Earn a constant stream of praise and admiration from your teammates. In the real thing, you would have saved Simon and Keegan twice over.
Eventually, though, you’re expected to run drills paired with the 141 again.
Your expression doesn’t so much as shift when your captain says so. The rest of your team tenses though, Nova even opening her mouth like she wants to argue.
You cross the small but firm divide between the teams to stand by Gaz’s side.
“Jus’ like old times, yeah?” He asks, offering you a fist bump.
You glance at it briefly, then turn forward.
“Sure,” you answer, flat and toneless.
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definitelysel · 6 months
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MELUSINES ON THE MISSION
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pairing: neuvilette x reader
synopsis: he takes you to Merusea Village for his birthday as a friend, leaves the village with you as his significant other. All thanks to some wingwomen- no melusines.
contains : reader is a baker by profession, fluff, wingwomen melusines, whipped, lovesick neuvilette, mutual pining, corny, neuvillette can deal with anything expect romantic feelings and gestures, spoilers for 4.2 story quest, references to his birthday letter.
a/n : happy birthday to best boi neuvi. he is deffo a lovesick dude and you can't change my mind.
sequel of this fic , but can be read as a stand alone.
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Neuvillette stared at the calender, eyebrows knitted together, pen twirling in his slender fingers.
"Should it be in spring? No that would be inconvenient...same holds true for autumn." He grumbled.
"My Dear Ludex, What's got you so tensed?" Furina chimed in, taking a glance at calender.
"I am trying to settle on a day to serve the purpose of being my birthday." Neuvillette sighed. If only he remembered the actual date. Furina took the pen from his hand and randomly circled a date without sparing a glance.
"18th of December? Why so?"
"My dear Ludex, this is such a trivial matter! Don't waste your energy on this. We must save it for the thrills of the court!" She patted his shoulder and walked off.
18th Decemeber.
That was today.
Neuvillette recalled while signing some documents he had received this morning. He finished up his work and turned around to arrange all the files and declutter the cabinets.
When he glanced back, he saw a small gift on the edge of this table. A smile crept up onto his face as he peeked a bit further to see the head of a melusine sticking out.
"You can stop hiding." He mused as the melusine slowly revealed themselves. Slowly but surely more melusines emerged out of their hiding spots.
"Happy Birthday Monsieur Neuvillette!" They all cheered as Neuvillette had a hearty laugh. The strict and straightforward Chief Justice had a soft spot for the adorable creatures and went to lengths to assure their safety.
"Thank you all. I appreciate your kind gesture." He smiled and picked up the small gift delicately and unwrapped the present. His ears could pick up the melusines muttered amongst themselves.
"...ask him."
"No you ask him!"
"Ask me what?" Neuvillette looked up to see the pleading faces of the Melusines. Yup, they were most definitely trying to persuade him into agreeing to something and Neuvillette knew he couldn't refuse.
"Will you come to Merusea Village this time?" They asked but it sounded more of a demand than a question.
Neuvillette paused. Of course they would ask that. He hadn't visited last year due to the chaos in Fontaine and the death of Focalors. He couldn't bring himself to celebrate his birthday after her death. This time, he agreed on it.
"Sure. I will make sure to extricate myself of my duties and come to Merusea Village." He reassured the Melusines, who bounced up and down in excitement before scurrying out of his office.
Neuvillette sat down and began making preparations so that he could depart worry-free to Merusea Village without any problems arising.
He found his thoughts drifting towards you. A promise he had made you a month ago.
"My schedule is full for the following month. However, I will be sure to pay you a visit after that." He recalled his words to you. Neuvillette had now made up his mind. He was going to take you with him to Merusea Village for his birthday and let all the melusines meet you.
He couldn't help but long for that queasy feeling with stirred in his chest everytime he was in your proximity. He would feel jittery and his palms would feel clammy and sweaty everytime he saw your beaming smile and witty remarks that never ceased to amaze him.
Well that was easier said than done.
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"Would like to accompany me to Merusea Village?" He said before facepalming. "No that would be too straightforward...I might sound authoritative and I don't wish to given off that impression..." Neuvillette had been pacing back and forth in front of the bakery and had been rehearsing the past 15 minutes.
He remained apathetic towards the people who would gasp and mutter at the sight of the Chief Justice's unannounced appearance. "Hello, it is my birthday today and I would like you to accompany me to Merusea Village." Neuvillette said before groaning in annoyance.
"No..if I were to straight away declare that it is my birthday then, it would sound self-centered of me." He muttered, his hand on his chin. "Ah, Yes. Greetings, it has been a long time since we last met. According to our public pronouncements, it is my birthday today and since I take out time each year to visit Merusea Village, I would love for you to accompany m–
"It's your birthday?" You gasped, your sudden appearance catching him off guard. You could see him tense up before turning around and awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
"Uh erm- yes." He fake coughed to compose himself again. "You should've told me, Monsieur! I would've prepared you a special cake!" You suggested. It would've made up for a good and genuine gift.
"No need for it. I was wondering if you would accompany me–"
"To some place you visit every year on your birthday? Sure! I was just finishing closing up the shop for the weekend, so yes I can accompany you!" You chimed at him. Spending time with Neuvillette, that too on his birthday!? Now that was opportunity you weren't letting go.
You weren't going to admit that you had taken interest in him and wanted to get opportunities to get to know him better but since he was a busy man, this was a perfect opportunity!
"Then let's leave, shall we?" He offered his gloved hand to you. You reached out to take it but he retracted his hand back and instead gestured in the direction you had to walk towards.
You could see his ears turn pink as he started to walk away. You were about to hold his hand? Then why did he back away?? Right someone as high and mighty as the Chief Justice won't settle for a ordinary baker–
You shook your thoughts away and followed him.
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"Monseiur Neuvillette is here!" The Melusines erupted into cheers and circled around him. You could see him smile and pat their heads. Neuvillette's smile had swept your heart off its feet. Your heart swoll at the sight of him smiling, heartily laughing at the swarm of Melusines. Dare you say, you were trying to stop your face from turning red.
"Everyone, meet [Name]. They are my friend and I presumed you would all love to meet them." He gestured towards you as the little melusine heads turned towards you, judgingly.
"Um- hello." You awkwardly smiled. The Melusines seemed to have marked you off their suspicion list considering they had now dragged you away to indulge in their silly activities.
Chasing other melusines, laughing with them, sitting around the bonfire, making flower crowns, it seems like you had a whole new world. You took the crown to Neuvillette. "Monseiur Neuvillette! Look!" You ran up to him as he turned towards you, with a smile lingering on his face.
"Is that a flower crown?" He mused, inspecting the bundle of flowers. You nodded and reached up to put it on his head. However, as you were putting it on his head, you both found yourselves gazing at eachother, fondly.
His eyes said so much despite his face showing so little. You two were unaware of the conversation between the melusines in the background.
"Oui oui! Monsieur Neuvillette definitely likes her!"
"Oui! You are so right, he looks at her in a certain way!"
"Should we help him?"
"Yes!" They all agreed.
"Monseiur Neuvillette! [Name]!" All of them yelled. You and Neuvillette snap out of it and turn your faces away, both of your cheeks flushing a shade of red.
"You guys should stay for a bit longer!" The Melusines tugged on your clothes and his robe. Eyes widen like puppies. Now how could you refuse to those cute faces.
"Sure! I would love too. It is the weekend anyways." You nodded and Neuvillette also agreed.
Now the plan was in full swing.
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Neuvillette went inside the accommodation the melusines had prepared. He walked over to the desk and spotted a neatly kept letter.
Dear Neuvillette,
I wish to tell you that you are really pretty and I find you interesting. I can't seem to find the courage to express it though.
Sincerely,
[Name]
His face flushed red as he did a double take, flipping the letter to assess its legitimacy. The Melusines peeped through the small window, seeing his reaction.
"He is blushing!" One whispered.
"Huh? I never thought those cheesy and corny sentences would actually make him all flushed." Another marveled
"I tried my best okay? It's hard to act like that girl considering we just met her." The third nudged the other.
"You think sending them fake letters is going to work?" The fourth asked.
"Duh!" The first 3 yelled at him.
You, on the hand, were reading the letter given to you over and over again.
Dear [Name],
You seem to have captured my thoughts. I find myself thinking about you every passing moment. However, I don't mind this feeling.
Sincerely,
Neuvillette.
You giggled like a high-schooler with a big fat crush on a ficitional guy. Who knew the Chief Justice was so lovey-dovey! How endearing.
"The plan worked!" The first melusine beamed.
"Both of them hopeless." 2nd one sighed.
"Hopelessly in love!" 3rd one snickered.
"Let's wait and watch." The 4th reminded.
The next day, you both were busy with groups of Melusines, chatting and playing yet both of you kept catching glances at eachother and looked away in embarrassment.
The Melusines rejoiced in their plan of fake letters to both of you, working. This kept on going. Both of you would find a letter in your room each time you came to freshen up or rest.
You and Neuvillette found yourselves blushing and feeling clammy at the letters, unaware of the true sender of these letters, until...
Meet me by the lake, 9pm.
As planned, both of you reached the lake, looking around to find the other. When you caught sight of Neuvillette, your breath was taken away. His white hair framed his fair perfectly and his eyes shined in the moonlight.
"Hello.." you started.
"Hello to you too." He replied. Well this is awkward.
"So um..do you truly believe I am- uh pretty as you mentioned in the letter?" Neuvillette asked, refusing to make eye contact. How fascinating that a man of status and authority is reduced to a flustered mush infront of the person he wishes to be with.
"Huh- what letter? I don't remember sending you a letter." You tilted your head in confusion. You received letters but you never wrote any reply back.
Neuvillette's eyes widened. "Then who sent- oh. The melusines.." he sighed, pinching his nose. "I am so sorry for the inconvenience." He apologized.
"Oh.." you sounded disappointed. So it was a lie then? Neuvillette said any of those sweet words which you had read in the letters. You could feel your heart break and chest ache. How did you manage to fall into this rabbit hole of loving the Ludex of Fontaine only to have your hopes crushed.
"What did they write in the letters given to you?" He calmly asked after a brief moment of silence.
"They said that you kept thinking about me and how you liked me and didn't mind the feeling...it is fine though! I am glad it is a lie hahaha." You waved your hands dismissively.
"..it is true." He blurted out. In his mind, it was now or never.
"Huh?" You stared at him, dumbfounded.
"It is true. I am indeed infatuated with you." You could visibly see his face flush pink. After your brain computed the information, you also turned red.
"I- I feel the same-..I always thought that I was too plain and simple for your liking.." you awkwardly muttered.
"No. It may be inappropriate of me to say this but..I believe that you are just perfect. You are perfect the very way you are, [Name]." The words effortlessly rolled off his tongue, though his flustered face told another story.
You hugged him without a warning, nuzzling your face into his chest. The hug felt warm, like the ocean hugging you with their waves as the sun dawned its warmth on your skin. Neuvillette wrapped his arms around you. You could hear his heart thundering against his chest.
"You like me that much huh?" You wriggled your eyebrows, with a teasing grin.
"Let's not bring that matter up." He huffed, trying to maintain his calm and composed composure. Oh he definitely was feeling giddy but why admit it?
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"We will miss you!" The Melusines whined and fake cried, clinging to your legs as Neuvillette chuckled.
"Well, let's leave, shall we? It is a long walk back." He asked you, a soft smile on his face, his smile lines crinkling. Oh Archons! If only you had a Kamera on you.
"Mhm!" You nodded. He, again offered you his gloved hand, which you took into yours as you both started your journey back.
This time he didn't back away. Instead, he took your hand firmly in his and walked away, together, with you by his side.
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a/n : happy birthday dear Neuvillette. Gosh i love this man so much, it's unhealthy. I can listen to him talk for hours about different tastes of water.
not proof read.
don't copy, plagiarize, repost.
©definitelysel
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