A oneshot about the scent that lingers around Spy. Original post: Spy
TW! Harsh language.
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Cigarettes is his natural scent, the French ones. Pretentious, unlike his teammates with their lucky strikes. On his gloves, his suit, you get a whiff of it from time to time.
It works like pheromones to you, makes your blood flow faster. His tongue tastes like Gauloises, afterwards it would linger on your slit. Whenever he's done eating you out, it's like your cunt is the one smoking the fag.
hey man! I found you bc of your heavy fic I really liked that one!!
If it’s cool could you do spy reader where it’s a man whose a gentleman(Southern gentleman specifically) back to him? (Like you read a lot about spy totally sweeping the reader of their feet but I want the opposite) And just a gentleman in general please?
like I’m struggling to explain this lol he doesn’t make fun of anyone in his voicelines in the field he just chuckles and enjoys the job instead of making fun of anyone like the others he’s friends with them all and gets along with them all but goes quiet and looks mildly bored when they start getting mean to each other he doesn’t like intervene when the mercs fight but he’ll give ‘em the bored side eye not in a petty tone way but in the way of “that was disappointing im not interacting with that” in a way that these guys just aren’t used to and kind of embarrasses them because reader is genuinely chill and nice (like when you disappoint and bore the one person who never makes fun of you and is actually cool)
spy is kind of a petty snobby guy yknow? So reader coming in and genuinely being consistent morally just for thr sake of it(cough cough besides the killing) but still affectionate sweeping him off his feet he doesn’t know what to do with that of course he’s only this conflicted internally and he handles himself how he always does
(one last thing I’m aromantic so I’d like it if these two could be involved physically and all soft on each other but not partners and not “they belong together/with each other” yknow)
yknow if that’s your style and you write it thank you if not it’s cool I like your work! Bye!
Spy x male!southern gentleman reader!!
Masterlist
I was reading this request wondering why I’m so like “thisnis so me??? I love this???” Then I saw you’re aromantic. Fuck yeah man I am too 🥹
Honestly It’s so ironic because I’ve always wanted that deep connection and love but as you put it never in that kinda way!! Also thank you!! I hope this lives up to what you wanted!!!
• your attitude was…disarming to say the least.
• sure you weren’t all there like the rest of them but you had this…coolness about you. This calm carrying force.
• even Engineer was one of the easier men to rile up on the team! But you? You just stayed.
• opening doors and helping in the small ways.
• he thought this generosity conditional. As like most things in life. But no matter how many times he “forgot his lighter” you always had one on had. Even if you didn’t smoke.
• he just…didn’t get it. He’s seen your wild side. He’s seen you smile over bodies like the rest of them..but he can’t see that much in you out of battle!
• you were just…
• a gentleman?????
• a nice gentleman???????????????????
• okay????
• as days turned to weeks he could see himself being more..unguarded.
• he didn’t mind you coming into his space late at night. He didn’t mind you inviting yourself along when he went out to smoke!
• he knew he was an interesting man with many interesting stories to tell but you hang on every word like he hung the stars in the sky.
• that consistent force..that kindness put him in uncomfortable territory even further
• you were sweeping him off his feet before he even realised
• he even began to tease you less. Less snippy comments , less eye rolls. The team noticed the favouritism but never commented on it
• then came the physical affection.
• it wasn’t much. Just you placing an arm around his shoulders or leaning on him to see what he’s looking at if you were behind him
• but he just..allowed it. He leaned in. Giving your hand a little kiss whenever you helped him. Running his fingers through your hair when tipsy and just you two. Fixing up your uniform mindlessly even if nothing was wrong.
• ot wasn’t even a romantic or sexual thing.
• yous just..were.
• the kisses , cuddles and falling asleep intertwined and more were just part of yous.
• I don’t think he’d be willing to even approach the topic of a label? Not because he’s ashamed but because you were both men and “conditions” for certain labels were to rigid at the time he just decided that yous were something else.
• you were his partner.
• that sounded right. He loves to whisper it to himself when he’s allowing himself to be a bit of a gushing mess about you.
• he attempts to repay to your kindness! To just be a gentleman to you too! But his romantic gestures didn’t feel right and all the nice things you beat him too it.
• but as yous continued to work on your special little dynamic he allowed it. Seeing the smile on your face and the joy in your eyes.
• you were his all in a way..yet still something so casual. He’s so used to being in such all or nothing situations where he’s whisking them off their feet and leave their hearts shattered like glass. But now..going to you was like going to a nice park everyday. You make life so much brighter just by existing.
• (also he never says it but at the start he was waiting for the day you gave up on him. He’s so thankful you never did.)
haii <3 can I request a spy x female reader mercenary where the reader is a tenth class, a getaway driver! and her personality is kinda similar to Spy so they get along well, but he has feelings for her, and so one time instead of going with the team during the mission, he cloaks and stays in the van with her... you decide how this ends.. make it hot tho🤭🤭🤭🤭 LOVE YOUUUU and im excited to see what u come up with tehehee
Spy x fem!getaway driver reader
Masterlist
This idea is so fire I can’t lie
Also I was originally going to make him confess but…have a yearner instead…
• his heart weighed heavy. It hurt. Each step he took felt like the souls of the underworld were finally dragging him to where he belonged
• why? A valid question. It’s because of you.
• so savvy and action ready.
• he never thought he’d love another as deeply as Scout damn mother but you..
• the way you smiled , the way you’d unintentionally charm everyone. How you just had this oozing charisma about you.. how could he not fall for you?
• it hurt how much he adored you.
• then, after respawning after getting sniped once more he spotted you in your car taking cover for the moment, now or never. He doesn’t think he’d be able to feel like this again..
• as he quickly inhaled the last cigerettes of the packet , hoping it would calm his nerves he slipped his cloaking on as he raced towards your van
• as he jumped in tbrough the open window quickly rolling its dirtied window up and locking it you didn’t even look over as you greeted him with that small smile…
• he’s so disgustingly into you.
• in the start yous would gossip and chat away like two friends of years but slowly as the affection and trust grew between the two of you not many words were needed.
• he watches as you grab our the nice cigars , you open that lighter he got you with a custom engraving and all..he couldn’t help but observe every little moment. He felt not like himself. You had him on such a leash you didn’t even know.
• but when you looked over with that sly grin, one cigar hanging out your mouth he wondered if you knew.
“C’mon…or do I have to put it in your mouth for you?”
• , you gently teased him as you were already putting it between his lips.
• As the lighter flickered on , you both held each others eyes in a standstill. He watched as you lit your own..then put it away?
• he broke the eye contact first watching your hand but before he knew it you were leaning in.. the ends of your cigars touched as the flame passed from yours to his.
• he soft gasped as pulled away slightly as you couldn’t help but chuckle, once more makikg little comments on the state of the man.
• watching you with that joy make his heart leap once more. You’re infuriating. You’re everything.
• he decides not to tell you, you both just bask in the slowlt smoke filling car as the sound of battle raged outside of your little oasis of calm.
•but by the way you look at each other..he thinks you already know.
RISHEN HERRERA.ㅤ{ㅤㅤthe femme fatale admiralㅤㅤ}ㅤthe only variant of mine i find to be soo cool。
꒰ VERSE ⨾ 1311 ⢷
꒰ SPECIES ⨾ human ⢷
꒰ ETHNICITY ⨾ mexican-indian ⢷
꒰ GENDER ⨾ genderfluid ⢷
꒰ AGE ⨾ 46 ⢷
꒰ MBTI ⨾ intj/estj ⢷
꒰ ALIAS ⨾ scarlet cyanide ⋆ admiral of aegis ⋆ admiral herrera ⋆ director herrera ⋆ boss (specifically his special division) ⋆ rishie (yŭ xī) ⢷
⧼ . ⁺ 🍒៹ who is he ? ✭ ⧽
gunshots and knives lethal and sharp much like the black liner swiped on maroon eyes. behind the weapons stand an individual even more calculated. a femme fatale mastermind with a contingency for everything, often mistaken for inhuman — because how the hell does a human complete these feats?
driven by duty and justice; high off of the stakes and always ready for a challenge, we find ourselves rishen herrera. the admiral of aegis known for his quick wit and effortless charm. sarcastic and seductive, with a click of his red heels as he steps through the halls of which he’s highly respected in.
from undercover missions to hacking mainframes, sniper to knifeman.
an assassin by trade and mastermind by nature, he strives for the protection of those who cannot protect themselves. leading his organisation with dignity and strength, while trying to maintain the conflict occurring throughout his city between human and supernatural alike.
it’s hard work but he needs to keep going. even if it takes endless hours and countless risks,
Hello! May I have maybe a f!reader who tries to speak Medic and Spy's language(separate)? She wants to try to be romantic towards them but is struggling to say their language so she ends up embarrassed
Thank you! You write amazing!💕
I wrote little scenarios for these, I'll post them separately! This is Spy's first :D I'll link Medic's here as well when I post that one
<3
The Language of Love - Spy x reader
Contains: reader referred to as a woman, established relationship, bad French, reader is nervous/embarrassed, Spy is nice (ooc? idk!)
It was a calm rainy evening. You and your lover had taken the night to relax in his smoking room, curled up on the velvety-soft sofa in front of the warm fireplace. He was reading some novel, his free arm draped around you. His fingers gently ran over the fabric of your shirt. You leaned against him, looking ahead at the crackling fire with your thoughts on loop.
You have beautiful eyes, I like you a lot, you are a beautiful man. Tu as de beaux yeux… Je t’aime bien.. et vous êtes un homme belle. You have beautiful eyes, I like you a lot, you are a beautiful man…
You’d been learning a bit of French lately, from books at the library. You’d thought it would be a fun surprise to show him, but now that the opportunity was here, you felt like you were walking in blind to a final exam.
It’s not like he’d asked you to learn it! How could he be mad at you for getting something wrong? But, you didn’t want to disappoint him. He was so perfect. Suave, confident, intelligent, always prepared. A part of you wanted to impress him, show him you could be suave too, but you were shaking in your boots. Metaphorically. You were actually quite comfortable on the couch. But, even then, he must have noticed you tensing up.
Spy looked away from his book and turned to you with a concerned frown on his face, his eyes scanning yours.
“My love… you seem a little quiet this evening. Are you alright?” He murmured. That was his polite way of saying, “I know you’re not alright.”
“Well, uh… I’m good! I’m really good, honey. I was just… thinking of something I’ve been wanting to tell you,” you said, turning to him more fully to look at his face. You met his eyes- normally cold and calculating, but now warm like the fire in front of you.
“Oh...? Well, please, tell me then,” he murmured, tilting his head to one side. He seemed apprehensive.
He looked at you so intently, like he wanted to read your mind. And your mind blanked. Damn it, how are you supposed to think while he’s looking at you like that?
“Um… I just wanted to say, uh, tu as de beaux yeux. Et! Et, em, Je t’aime bien, et, vous êtes un homme belle,” you pieced together.
You watched Spy fighting a smile as you spoke, the wobbly sort of smile someone has when they’re trying not to laugh. God damn it. You grimaced, already kicking yourself as you turned away from him, sitting up on the sofa.
“My love, wait! Where are you going?” He asked, and you could hear the grin in his tone. “What was that? You’re learning French?”
“Yes, I know it was bad, don’t laugh,” you whined.
He clicked his tongue, sitting up on the sofa to lean towards you again, putting his arm back around you.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, my love, come, don’t be embarrassed. I’m not laughing. That was incredibly sweet, ma chérie,” he assured, rubbing your shoulder even as you avoided his gaze.
You sighed, your face hot and your pride wounded.
“I wanted to surprise you! I wanted to… you know, be as charming as you are,” You admitted, waving your hand as you spoke.
His expression softened as he listened, gradually leaning in closer. His brows pinched together in concern.
“As charming as I am?” He repeated quietly. “My love… well, I’m flattered, of course, but you don’t need to be like me. You are charming, in your own way. You sweep me off my feet,” he replied.
You finally faced him again, looking confused.
“What…? I do?”
He smiled again, expression warm as his eyes met yours. He grasped your hands in his gently.
“Yes. Really, you do. I adore you, ma cherie. The way you are, in all the ways you are not like me, are wonderful.”
You relaxed a little more with every sweet word, a weight lifted off your shoulders. You leaned against him again and let out a sigh. You wrapped your arm around his back, your head on his shoulder.
“Thank you, honey. Sorry for getting so worked up,” you muttered, closing your eyes. “I need to practice French more.”
“You may need some practice, but, you can practice with me. You meant to say I was handsome, yes?”
Your eyes shot open again. “…is that not what I said?”
You felt Spy’s chuckle vibrate through his chest.
“Eh… not quite. You were close. Belle means beautiful, but, that’s reserved for women. That’s why I was trying not to laugh. You would call a man ‘beau’. You, mon amour, êtes une femme belle.”
“Oh!” You laughed at your mistake, a hand self-consciously covering your face. “Sorry, honey. I… yeah, beau is what I meant to say. Gosh, that’s embarrassing.”
“Oh, don’t feel so bad, my love. I appreciate your efforts regardless. How long have you been studying it?”
“Not long enough, obviously.”
Spy rolled his eyes at your self-deprecation and tugged you closer to his side.
“Oh, hush, really. Hmm. How about a little test of your knowledge, eh? I’ll tell you a phrase and you can guess what it means. I’m sure you’ll get it.”
“…Hm. Fine, just ask me.”
“Embrasse-moi.”
You paused a moment, mentally searching for where you'd seen that phrase before.
“Um… kiss me?” you guessed hopefully.
“If you say so,” he replied, leaning in with a grin on his face.
You laughed, seeing his trick as he pressed his lips to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pressed his body to yours. One of his hands caressed your back, and the other tenderly cupped your cheek.
Can you write a spy X hispanic! Reader (he/Him,afab but masc presenting) And how soy would flirt with the reader and make him swoon?. Reader appreciates the attention and though he gets mega flustered he still thanks spy for the compliments.
Id appreciate if the readers flustered(ness?) Is protrayed less as blushy shy but more of a person thats not used to romantic attention but tries to be a good sport about it.
Thank you and take ur time!
I can sure try my hardest, I'm not Hispanic myself so I'm not sure how much that actually features in this? Anyways I hope you enjoy :3
also I assumed you wanted headcanons and honestly that last drabble I wrote took a bit out of me so. sorry if this wasn't what you wanted TwT
Spy flirting w/ hispanic trans masc reader
hcs :3
- Let's be real here. majority of the base is white. There are so many fucking white guys there. You'd probably stick out along with Demo even if Spy wasn't flirting with you 24/7. You and me both buddy.
- Either way your teammates attention will for sure be on you, what with Spy very very obviously doing whatever he can to fluster you.
- If you speak Spanish Spy is for sure either going to learn or already knows a shit ton of compliments and stuff in Spanish, just so he can compliment you in a language that the other's might not understand.
- He'll probably try to gently warm you up to receiving romantic attention before he actually asks you on a date, but if you still get flustered easily after a few months he'll just jump to asking you out.
- By warm you up I mean flirt with you. heavily. Nothing like grabbing you hand or anything, more like pet names and consistent compliments on your performance on the field, your clothes, how you do your hair, etc. Hell he'll even use cheesy pick up lines occasionally. But usually he doesn't stoop to that level.
- I also imagine him to be a big gift giver. If there's something from your culture that you'd like he'll probably find a way to get it. even if it's expensive. lord knows that man has enough money.
- After the two of you actually start dating he'll do things like cook for you, and he'll try his best to learn more hispanic recipes but forgive him if he makes mistakes. At least he's not British. eugh.
- Another thing he'll do once you start dating is like grabbing your hand and pulling you to a clear area to dance a little, especially if there's some good slow dancing music on the radio.
- During matches he tries not to distract you too much but what else is he meant to do besides compliment your kill streak?
- Oh also you will be receiving a shit ton of flowers, both red roses for the romantic intent and your favorite flowers too.
- Really in the end Spy is just trying to impress you and see your reactions to stuff. If you have a problem with all of the romantic gestures and compliments you are gonna have to say something about it.
Sorry this is pretty short! I'm. not actually that good at writing Spy in a context where he's not hiding his feelings behind a mask. Literally and figuratively lol, still I hope you liked it!
mercs (pref spy but the others are your call) with a reader who overworks themselves often ? idk i'm feeling Angsty ',:3
Sure!! I hope you don't mind I wrote this as a oneshot with just Spy instead of HCs :]
You Can't Keep Doing This - Spy x Reader
Contains: ~2k words, g/n reader, shitty google-translated french, reader is mean at one point but apologizes, comforting vibes, fluff, again falling alseep together teehee
It was dark outside, but your room was bright. The overhead light buzzed, but you were buried so deep in your writing that you had tuned out the noise.
Your eyes scanned across the page as you furiously scrawled out words. You’d already finished writing the battle strategy for tomorrow and the to-do list for the next week, and next up was the machinery blueprint Engineer had asked for your help with. Sketchy lines, haphazard sidenotes, and arrows with labels littered the page. You were finally starting to get somewhere when your train of thought was interrupted by the loud growl of your stomach.
Your pencil paused on the page. You glanced down. You blinked, for the first time in a while, and sat up straight. You hadn’t noticed how totally hunched over you were before, nor how dry your mouth was. You sighed, scooting back from your desk. You supposed a quick break to grab some water and a snack would do you good.
You took the opportunity to stretch as you stood, your back cracking. You yawned as you walked out of your room, blinking your eyes some more in an attempt to ease how strained they felt.
You dragged your feet into the kitchen, flicked on the light, grabbed yourself a glass from the cupboard, and got a pitcher of water from the fridge. (You couldn’t trust the quality of water coming from the sink.) As you poured yourself the water, you felt like you were being watched.
“Hello there, my love,” a low voice purred, gloved hands materializing on your shoulders.
You jumped and whipped your head around. You saw the familiar face of your lover, Spy, looking back at you with an amused smirk. You groaned and set the pitcher down, your tense shoulders relaxing again.
“Jesus, don’t do that!” You scolded half-heartedly.
“Do what? Say hello to my stunning lover?” He teased, his smirk growing a little wider. “How could I not?”
He wrapped his arms around your waist loosely and stepped closer. You could feel the light touch of his chest against your back.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you... You’ve been cooped up in your room for much longer than you said you’d be.”
“Oh… have I? Sorry, honey. I’ll be finished in just a few minutes, really,” you replied, finishing pouring yourself that glass of water.
You couldn’t see his expression, but he was rolling his eyes at that remark.
“My love. Do you know what time it is?”
“Uhh… 11:30?” you guessed.
“It’s 1 in the morning,” he replied wryly. “You’re wearing yourself out again. You can’t keep doing this.”
You were quiet for a moment, a little embarrassed at being called out. You felt like a child getting in trouble. You huffed and hardened your expression, turning to see him through the corner of your eye.
“I’m just trying to be responsible and get my work done. I’m not like you, I don’t have the time to… lounge about and smoke cigarettes, while I listen to smooth jazz and sip wine,” you replied, the words coming out sharper than you meant them to.
Spy narrowed his eyes and pulled back, stepping to your side to look at your face more clearly. You winced and immediately regretted the words you said.
“Sorry,” you said, looking down at the counter.
Spy paused for a long moment, and you thought he might have been crafting up a deep-cutting comeback, but he only sighed. He knew the look of regret when he saw it; avoiding eye-contact, shoulders shrinking in, a small frown on your face.
“…I’m going to excuse that this time. I wouldn’t be surprised if your lack of sleep is making you irritable,” he replied kindly. He reached up to cup your cheek gently, turning your face towards him again.
“Leave the work for tomorrow, mon couer. It can wait,” he said, gray eyes connecting with yours.
You pressed your lips together and nodded. You let go of your glass to gently hold his wrist. You ran your thumb over the edge of his glove, where soft fabric met warm skin. Spy gave an amused snort.
“Mon dieu, my love, don’t look so miserable. I know you didn’t mean it,” he assured, pinching your cheek. A smile returned to your lips as he pulled his hand away.
“You can be so dramatic sometimes,” he added fondly.
“I’m the dramatic one?” You laughed. “Oh, don’t even-“
“Ah ah ah, not the time for arguing with me, my love,” he shushed you with a grin. “Get your water, get something to eat, and then get back to my room. Don’t even think about going back to finish that blueprint. I’ll know if you do,” he warned, strolling out of the kitchen.
You shook your head with a chuckle and got something to eat next.
After a snack and a drink, you were already feeling a bit better, albeit exhausted. You yawned again as you walked through the dark hallway, then knocked on the door to Spy’s smoking room.
“Honey…? It’s me. Can I come in?” You called out quietly, not wanting to wake the other mercs likely sleeping nearby.
The door swung open immediately, like he’d been standing behind it. He wore black slippers and his usual nighttime robe, his silk pajama pants peeking out from the bottom. The mask was still on, for now. He smiled and bowed, extending his hand to his room theatrically.
“Please do.”
You chuckled and stepped inside. He gently closed the door behind you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, leading you to a tall dark bookshelf. The fireplace only had a few little embers burning inside, and the room smelled faintly of smoke (but that was probably from Spy, not the fire).
He leaned forward to pull out a book, and it made a mechanical clicking noise before the book slid back into place, the bookshelf slowly swung back. Yes, his room had a secret entrance from his smoking room. He had high standards, and the salary to afford them. It was a long time before he revealed it to you, but now he allowed you to come and go as you pleased.
He ushered you into his bedroom with a hand on your back, his eyes watching yours. You sighed and leaned against him as you walked. Now that you’d gotten a taste of a break, your disregard for your basic needs was catching up with you.
“Oh, you poor thing. If only someone had told you to take a break sooner. Oh wait, I did.”
He was teasing, but his soft voice betrayed his true feelings.
“Yeah, you’re right, once again,” you grumbled, eyes barely held open.
“Hmph! Thank you for acknowledging it. Here, change out of your day clothes,” he said, handing you a silk set of pajamas. They were in your size, the craftmanship flawless. You glanced up at him, unsure if you should go somewhere else to change. He seemed to read your mind and smirked.
“I think we’ve seen each other enough to be comfortable, haven’t we?”
You smiled and rolled your eyes.
“Turn around, I don’t want to feel you staring at me,” you teased.
“Oh, fine. You’re such a prude,” he replied as he obliged, crossing his arms as he faced the other way. He took the moment to take off his mask and set it on the bedside table.
Your clothes were discarded in a pile on the floor, replaced by the soft pajamas. They felt smooth and freeing.
You sank down onto the soft mattress, topped with a deep red cashmere blanket and far too many pillows. You flopped back, eyes falling shut easily. You took a deep breath in, and the air smelled sweeter in his room. You heard the bookshelf-door slide shut again. You cracked your eyes open when you heard the bedsprings creak beside you.
You got to see that handsome face again- grey stubble, pointed nose, and wavy black hair with stripes of gray revealed. The ones no one else got to see.
He was equally as enamored at the sight of you. These moments of vulnerability you let him see made him weak in the knees. You had a kind of beauty that shined through no matter your appearance.
“Are you comfortable, mon couer?” He asked as he climbed into bed.
“Mhmm,” you hummed, scooting towards him before he’d even settled down.
He chuckled at your eagerness to cuddle and laid down, swallowing you up in his arms, the velvet of his robe kissing your skin. He wrapped an arm around your waist and carefully slid the other under your neck, allowing your head to still rest on the pillow. His hand reached up to toy with your hair lightly, every leisurely movement intentional. He gazed at your face in the dim light.
“Good, my love. You look adorable when you’re so tired,” he murmured.
You kept your eyes closed and tucked your head under his chin, hugging him back with a yawn. He felt soft and warm, smelling like woody cologne and cigarette smoke. You felt his arms close a little tighter around you.
“Mm. Thank you,” you replied.
“You’re welcome, mon amour. You mustn’t stay up so late working, as adorable as you are. It’s not good for you,” he said, his voice softer than when he had chastised you before.
“I know,” you conceded with a heavy sigh. “I just… have so much to do. I feel like… I’m being selfish if I avoid work. Or if I try to sleep, it’s all I can think about,” you explained, a furrow forming between your brows.
Louis eyed your change in expression and mirrored your frown. He reached forward to gently stroke over your brows, smoothing out the crease like a wrinkle in his suit. (Not that his suit would ever have a wrinkle.)
“I see. It’s because you care so much that you work yourself far too hard, my love,” he said, sweet words dripping like honey from his lips.
“You think taking a break is selfish?” He continued. “I very much disagree, my love. It is only necessary. Everyone must have a break, everyone must eat, everyone must sleep. You are no exception. It seems that… leaving work undone makes you worried, yes?” He questioned, petting your hair absentmindedly.
You breathed out and nodded, your muscles slowly relaxing as you listened to him speak.
“Worried. Hmph. You have nothing to be worried about, my dear, really. What are you afraid of, eh? It’s not going anywhere. And neither is your brilliant mind,” he said, tapping your head playfully. “A little wine and music wouldn’t kill you, either.”
You smiled sleepily, imagining sharing a glass with him in his smoking room while he put a record. Maybe you’d dance together, too, or lounge on the sofa in front of the fire.
“Yeah. S’good idea,” you mumbled.
“I know. I’m full of them,” he replied with a smirk, closing his eyes as well. He held you close and took a deep breath of you, then breathed you out again with a sigh.
“Don’t feel guilty for resting, my love. I hate to see you treating yourself that way,” he muttered, nearly a whisper. “Je t'adore, mon amour, mon petit bijou. Dors et ne laisse rien te réveiller. Ne t'inquiète pas un seul instant.” *
“Mmh… didn’t really get that last part.”
“I’m saying don’t worry so much. Go to sleep, and have sweet dreams,” he murmured.
“Oh.” You smiled sweetly. “Goodnight, Louis.”
“Goodnight, mon couer. Rest well.”
With your head resting under his, you could faintly hear his steady heartbeat if you focused. You slowly evened out your breath to the sound of his heart, counting until you fell asleep.
.
.
.
*Translation: “I adore you, my love, my little jewel. Sleep and don't let anything wake you. Don't worry for a single moment.”
