#and i’m good at my job & it’s such a small team they take my extra work for granted

[mildmayfoxe]

i busted my ass the last two days at work to get three wholesale orders going out today finished even though it’s NOT my job (& in fact to detriment of my actual job) because neither of the two people responsible started them over the weekend (like they should have) or even as far as i know realized they existed & neither of them said anything to me about it in either thanks or apology when i came in today, the first time i’ve seen them this week. lmao. ok! see if i pick up your slack again!

[reidmotif]

Coffee and Consequences

Summary: Reader joins the BAU, and Spencer seems insistent on being a problem for her.

Request: pls i am such a sucker for angst/smut, can you do one where spencer is closed off and cold to a new recruit, and it upsets her, so she tries to get him to like her, which leads to an argument and confession, with soft smut?

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut/Light Angst (Happy Ending)

Content Warning: Reader POV, little shit Spencer, oral sex (f recieveing), gunshot wound/typical canon violence, unprotected sex

Word Count: 6.1k

Upon starting at the BAU, I believed there was no question about me, especially when it came to my skills and ability to perform my job. From stellar recommendations from my superiors at the Academy, to general demeanor and tact, there was no question about whether or not my success was imminent. Most of the team were more than elated to welcome me to the small family they’d built over the years, despite my younger age than most of them, which I was eternally grateful for. 

Most, being the keyword in that sentence. Since I’d begun, there’d been one thorn in my roses, the bane of my existence, you might say. Spencer fucking Reid. I’m aware of the fact that not everyone could like me, that was a given. I'm an FBI agent, for god’s sake. To expect warmth and friendship from everyone would be naive and lead to disappointment in any given scenario. 

But Jesus Christ, this was getting absolutely ridiculous. 

I consistently replayed the events of our first meeting. In an attempt to make a good first impression, (which seems stupid, in hindsight) I brought coffee to each of my new co-workers, hoping to establish myself as a friendly, non-threatening presence in their lives. I’d covertly asked Emily for help, as within the interviews and background checks required to even be considered for a position in the BAU, there was a certain camaraderie and friendship forged through the continued exposure to each other. 

Emily advised me carefully, understanding the intentions behind the act, and being more than happy to help.  “JJ likes vanilla lattes, nothing too fancy. Rossi is a little simpler, a Caffe Americano.” I spoke, and continued to go through my team’s regular orders, until there was hesitation on a somewhat infamous name, one that I myself was already intrigued by. “Spencer’s an easy order to remember, but you have to make sure you get it right.” 

I found myself nodding, the seriousness of Emily’s words striking me- momentarily finding myself forgetting that they were speaking about something as mundane as coffee. "Emily spoke slowly, as if I was advising a child. 'Reid likes black coffee, but you have to make sure to add extra sugar.'" I nodded quickly, "Alright, black coffee with extra sugar, got it-" Emily interrupted me abruptly. "No, no. You're not hearing me, extra sugar. I mean a lot, okay? Otherwise, he quite literally won't drink it."

I found myself chuckling a little bit, thinking about the image of Spencer Reid I’d built up in my head before I’d even met him. I knew he had been framed and had endured a considerable time in prison. I was also aware of his intelligence, a natural by-product of all the papers he’d written, and how many of his own techniques in geographic profiling were referenced during my time in the Academy. Working with him seemed like a dream come true. The idea of a grown man needing as much sugar in his coffee as Emily made it seem added just a bit of charm to the already positive perception I’d had of him. 

In the coffee shop, I carefully recited the orders of my new teammates, taking extra caution in advising the barista that the black coffee needed extra sugar. I could tell the patrons behind me were definitely annoyed, but it didn’t matter. First impressions matter more. Even after my incessant requests about sugar, I took the time to open the lid of the steaming black coffee to add in 3 extra packets of brown sugar provided at the customization station in the back of the coffee shop. I could tell the barista was boring holes into the back of my head, and I honestly wasn’t surprised or could blame her. At this point, the sugar had to be more than the coffee itself. I gave a satisfied grin to myself, knowing I’d followed Emily’s directions and the possibility of friendship with someone I’d already come to admire wasn’t something far-off to wish for. 

God, was I wrong. 

I approached the bullpen cautiously, being greeted by an assortment of new faces. I quickly matched names to descriptors that had been given to me from Emily. I then noticed one face that hadn’t greeted me yet, sat alone in the back with his nose in a book. I couldn’t discern the title, which I quickly figured was due to the fact that the book appeared to be some European language I’d most likely never even heard of. The man had a mess of brown hair on his head, and even from across the room I could tell it was curling softly near the nape of his neck. He was handsome. More handsome than I had pegged him for. I knew almost immediately that this had to have been the infamous Spencer Reid, and I cautiously approached him, flashing a small smile. 

He heard me a mile away, looking up quickly and putting away his book. His eyes seemed to size me up, and he didn’t seem to return my smile. I knew better than to shake hands with him, being predisposed to his germaphobe nature and instead held out the coffee, almost as if it was a peace offering. 

“Hi, uh. I’m the new recruit, I believe Emily warned you all about me and I just wanted to introduce myself. (Y/N). That’s my name. It’s nice to meet you.” I said, a little dumbly, still holding the coffee out. I quickly realized I hadn’t explained the reasoning behind the coffee cup and quickly added, “Coffee. I asked Emily about how you liked it. And brought it. So, yeah.” I said. I was aware of how awkward this conversation was becoming, considering I was still holding out the cup, like an idiot, and he hadn’t said a word to me yet. He nodded, taking the coffee cup from me and placing it on his desk. “Dr Reid. Welcome.” His greeting was short, but I tried not to let it bother me. Perhaps he wasn’t as forthcoming to strangers, nevermind that. The coffee was enough. I smiled, again, hoping to make my intentions clear. “Nice to meet you, Dr Reid.” 

I turned back, feeling satisfied. I’d done what I’d come there to do. Except a sound from behind me alerted me that maybe I was a bit early to assume that, because when I’d turned around, an incredibly displeased Dr Reid was throwing away his coffee- the coffee I had brought! That I’d waited for in a morning rush for, that I’d taken the time to add even more sugar to- that coffee! In the trash! His eyes met mine as he dropped it into the trashcan near his desk, shuddering a bit as he did so. He didn’t even look apologetic. 

I approached him, a bit upset and sad, but there was caution in my tone, not wanting to offend him before he even had a chance to know me. “Dr Reid, I’m sorry was the coffee-” Dr Reid quickly interrupted me. “Did Emily not tell you my order?” He asked, a little bit of sharpness to his tone. 

Okay, so this guy took his coffee seriously. Emily was not kidding around. 

“Um, yes-” He interrupted again. “Yes? Are you sure?” He said, a bit of condescension in his tone. Okay, holy shit. All this over coffee? “Very sure.” I responded, confidently. “Black, with extra sugar- I even put extra at the counter.” I added this, trying to convey that while I was sorry it wasn’t to his liking, it’s not like I didn’t try. That had to count for something, right? 

Wrong. Spencer Reid did not seem like the type of man who cared about trying. He retorted with, “Well, it wasn’t enough.” And with that, he shuffled to the breakroom, seemingly to make his own coffee. 

It seemed like from there, things only got worse. In one of my first cases, I quickly made a quip about the statistics on suburban murders, hoping to add some valuable information to the conversation. I tried hard not to overpower anyone and stay in my lane as the resident newbie, but Spencer seemed to take personal offense to it, going out of his way to argue that it meant nothing. I fired back, hoping to affront my point but Reid quickly cut me off.

 “You’re new, alright? And young. It’s granted that you should be clueless when it comes to some of these things.” His words, although somewhat true, were accompanied by a harsh tone and a coldness in his voice. What could’ve been well-meaning advice from a senior agent on the team was clearly not that at all. All signs pointed to one thing: He absolutely hated me. 

For all I tried, it seemed like he only disliked me more. It wasn’t unnoticed by my teammates, how he’d dismiss me. I was aware of my newness, of my inexperience, how this team had had years to grow around each other before I was ever even considered for this position, but it seemed with the more time I spent at the BAU, Spencer’s disdain only increased. He seemed to go out of his way to not sit by me on the jet, or how he seemed absolutely uninterested in anything involving me. I understood that not everyone would like me, but a bit of respect would be nice. I didn’t need friendship, just his tolerance, and even that seemed out of reach for Dr Spencer Reid. 

Eventually, this led to the dynamic  we harbored now. A year into the BAU, and instead of a friendship, or even acquaintanceship, it was constant bickering. It’s not like I wanted to argue- he just made it impossible for me to find footing within the BAU. I obviously stood up for myself, but was met with resistance from the doctor, and so the cycle continued. 

Still, despite the obvious dislike Reid harbored for me, it wasn’t like that magically made him dumb, or any less attractive to me. His intelligence was as impressive as I’d expected it to be, if not even moreso. I watched in real-time as the cogs in his mind turned, his slender fingers finding a point on the side of his mouth to tap, before stopping and sharing what he’d just thought of. He was brilliant, and no one could take that away from him

 However, in this particular case we were currently dealing with, it seemed that brilliance simply didn’t matter, because how could someone like him be so absolutely stupid? 

The hostage situation we were dealing with was tricky, to say the least. Multiple civilians, and a trigger happy unsub. Any experienced agent would be at a loss when handling something like this, but Spencer seemed confident. He’d been pushing to storm the building, citing that more people would get hurt the longer they allowed the unsub to continue making demands. I found myself  wholeheartedly disagreeing, attempting to put my foot down and be heard. I found that perhaps, through negotiations, we could not only save the civilians, but walk away with zero people hurt. Naturally, this caused commotion between the senior agent and myself. 

“Reid, I’ve told you for the millionth time that this unsub can’t be approached like this!” I whisper-yelled, clearly fed up with Spencer by this point. He questioned every decision of mine, and it's gotten to me. 

“(Y/N), you’ve dealt with maybe 3 hostage situations in your life. This isn’t something for you to take point on. We have civilians in there, and it’s more important we save them.” He responded, in his own hiss. 

“You’re being ridiculous!” I retorted. 

“You’re naive!” He shot back. 

We’d clearly reached a head when it came to this. Spencer huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m using my seniority here. We’re going to give the go-ahead to SWAT and make our way into the building.” 

I found myself returning the gesture. “Spencer- '' I began, only to be interrupted.

 “Dr Reid.” He corrected, venom in his voice. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I replied, furrowing my brows. 

“What?” He countered, seeming calm, but his eyes gave away simply how determined he was to win this. 

“This is a terrible idea.” I said, firmly. “Someone’s going to get hurt.” 

“Oh, and how do you know that?” Spencer quipped. “Is it your years of experience in the field? Or your time spent as an FBI agent?” He said, sarcastically. 

“I understand I don’t have as much experience as you, but-” I started, but I found myself cut off by him again. Bastard. He never let me finish my sentences. “Exactly.” He responded, calmly. “You don’t have as much experience. I know what I’m doing. Let’s go.” And with that, he walked, leaving me to simply follow. God, I fucking hated that guy. Forget the intelligence, none of that mattered when he was such a dick. 

As they entered the warehouse doors behind SWAT, I  knew that it was wrong. Something was off. We’d profiled this unsub as the dominant type, and an egotistical personality that wouldn’t allow for a partner. It was a part of the profile that they were sure of. It was part of the reason why Spencer was so confident of going in. 

Upon entering though, the SWAT team had a clear shot of the unsub, but in a split second, there were shots heard from an entirely different part of the warehouse. From the direction in which Spencer was directly in line of. 

It wasn’t like I thought about it, maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have done it. It was based on pure instinct. I found myself in front of Spencer Reid, the man who’d questioned my every decision since I’d begun my job, taking a bullet for him. Maybe he was right, maybe I was an idiot. 

I heard the gunshot first, then felt the cold floor pressing into my cheek where I’d been knocked down. Then a tight pressure in my arm. I finally looked down, seeing a bloom of red appear under my dress shirt where a bullet had struck, away from the vest I wore to prevent this sort of thing. I took in a sharp breath of air, eyes widening as my breathing began to quicken. I rolled onto my back, only to be met with Spencer’s concerned and frightened expression above me. I heard ins and outs of his speech into his receiver, as I faded in and out of consciousness. 

“Yes! We have an agent down. We need medic, now!” He yelled. I watched him in fascination, his face currently seeming to be the only thing I could focus on besides the overwhelming burning that I felt. I heard him speak to me, calmly. “Y/N? Stay with me, okay? You need to stay conscious. Okay?” He spoke to me calmly, but the waver in his voice was unmistakable. I found my eyelids growing heavier as I nodded. 

It wasn’t long until I came to, groggily opening my eyes to see Spencer’s concerned face looking back at me. I heard his voice, soft and distant. 

“(Y/N)..?” Spencer said, cautiously. 

“Dr Reid?” was my response. I was still a bit dizzy, and a bit confused about my whereabouts. 

“You were shot.” He replied, immediately. “In your arm.” He added, as if that wasn’t already obvious. 

I found myself chuckling, “Yeah, I can tell.” I said, my eyes meeting his. His expression was a bit unreadable, a mix between sternness and apprehension. I watched him, as his gaze shifted and he bit his lip. “You took it for me.” He said, suddenly. “The bullet, I mean.” He continued. “It would’ve hit me if you hadn’t gotten in the way.” 

“Gotten in the way?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Gotten in the way.” He repeated back to me, his face hard. 

“Are you upset I took a bullet for you?” I said, furrowing my brows, my lips parting in shock. Was this guy serious? 

“Yes.” He said, his voice angry. “What were you thinking?” His voice wavered with anger and another emotion I couldn’t quite discern in that moment. 

“I wasn’t thinking, I just-” 

“Exactly.” He responded, harshly. “You weren’t thinking.” He said, his voice reaching a volume I’d never heard before, granted, it was still collected, but I’d never seen this side of him. 

I contemplated how to respond to this, actually not being able to believe that he could be mad at me for something like this. Yes, it was brash but- he didn’t get shot! Isn’t that a plus? His voice broke my thoughts, now a bit more shaky, softer. “Do you have any idea what that would mean? If you’d been hurt worse, what that would mean for me?” He said, looking right at my face, into my eyes with a blaze. “What you mean to me?” 

I found myself unable to respond, still not being able to grapple with what he was saying. What he was implying. “Sorry?” I asked, softly. 

“(Y/N)..” He said, softly. His own expression mirrored my confusion mixed with longing I’d never seen before on him. Especially when he looked at me. His hand brushed across my face, moving some hair that had drifted near my eye. I held my breath as he did so, watching as his tongue slipped out to wet his bottom lip, still watching intently. I felt my lips slightly part as he came closer, unsure what was going to happen in this moment, but regardless, my gaze was intently trained on his. 

In a split second though, the sounds of the rest of the BAU filtered into the hospital room. They jumped away from each other, Spencer now 4 feet away from me. Emily came up to my bedside, looking at the wound. 

The typical chastisement came, and the general choruses of appreciation that I was still alive. The diagnosis revealed that (Y/N) would be just fine, given I remembered to clean my wound liberally and change the bandages.

In about a week, I found myself discharged. I was given about 2 more weeks to rest at my apartment. I assumed the time would be enough to forget the strange moment I’d had in the hospital room. At some points, if I tried hard enough, I could convince myself it hadn’t happened at all. The tenderness in his eyes, the way his gaze drifted to my lips, so subtle it could’ve as easily been a figment of imagination. I shook my head, as if I could rid myself of all the feelings I’d harbored about that specific moment. I made my way to the kitchen, grabbing a fresh-set of bandages to apply on the recovering wound, wincing as I peeled away the layers of gauze to reveal the injury. As I began to apply the anti-septic, I began to wrap the gauze, until I heard a knock at my apartment door. 

I put down the gauze, looking through the peephole and being surprised to see the senior agent that had been haunting my thoughts for the past few weeks. I opened the door quickly, meeting his pensive gaze. 

“Can I come in?” He said, quickly, almost if he didn’t say the words fast enough, he’d bolt the other direction. I sensed the confusion about his own actions, and opened the door wider, allowing him to push past me into my apartment. He noticed the gauze, and the open wound, and raised an eyebrow. 

“I was changing the gauze, sorry.” I said, explaining the sight on my kitchen table. He immediately took a step towards the table, picking up the bandages. “Let me help.” He said, quietly, motioning for me to sit down. 

I found myself sitting, out of pure habit of obeying him, but still shook my head. 

 “Dr Reid, no, it’s fine.” He quickly shook his head, mirroring my previous actions,  already beginning to take my arm, his light touches on my bare skin shooting a shiver up my spine. This was noticeable to him, him immediately retracting his hand. 

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” He asked, softly. 

I found myself shaking my head. “No, no. Sorry. Just. Continue.” I said, trying to get the words out without looking at him. I suddenly remembered the strangeness of this situation, and forced myself to calm down as he began to carefully wrap the bandages around my injury, swallowing and looking up. 

“Dr Reid, why are you here?” I asked, carefully. I made sure that my tone was neutral, not trying to express displeasement, but still a bit confused about his intentions here. 

“You took a bullet for me.” He replied, simply, as if that explained why he was in my apartment, looming over me as he tenderly wrapped gauze over my arm, looking at me with the gentlest gaze I’d ever seen on him. I sighed, locking eyes with him. “I know, but-” He interrupted. “No, (Y/N), you don’t know.” 

Immediately, the rage returned to my eyes, the months of dismissal I’d faced from him flooding back in a moment, and those emotions came to full light in that moment. my brows furrowed, my face turning sour. “Oh, I don’t know, Spencer?” I said, sneering at him. “Am I too young, too stupid, too inexperienced for you?” I question, sarcastically. “Am I so dumb, that I wasn’t aware of what I was doing when I stepped in front of you?!” I say, my voice practically yelling at him now. 

“Yes.” He whispered, dangerously close. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Yes. You weren’t aware.” He says, repeats, softer this time. “It’s the only way any of this makes sense. That.. that you were so unaware, so blinded that you weren’t thinking when you stepped in front of me.” He said, quietly, remaining just as close as before. 

“I wasn’t.” I said, firmly, my brows still furrowed but the tension slowly left my face, being replaced with a softness. 

“Why did you do it then?” He said, dropping his gaze as he began to focus more on the bandages. “I haven’t been very forthcoming with you since you’ve begun your time at the BAU.” 

“Ah, so you’ve noticed.” I said, trying to make humor of the situation, but it came out a bit more breathless and dry. I was aware of the intimacy of the situation, and it seemed my body was catching up. I could physically feel the way my cheeks were heating up, and how they were close enough that I could see every breath that exhaled from his lips. How, despite everything, I still desperately wanted to kiss him at that moment. 

I couldn’t be crazy, when he secured the bandages and slowly trailed his eyes over my figure, sitting in front of him. I saw the same desire I felt, reflected in his eyes, and I found myself biting my lip. What the fuck was going on?

“So why’d you do it?” He repeated, still looking at me. 

“It felt natural, I..” I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain what I had felt in that split-second, but instead went with the simplest retelling my brain could manage, considering how close he was. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” I said, looking at him. “I.. I care about you.” 

I felt stupidly vulnerable. His breath fanned over my face, and I bit my lip. I waited for him to say something, anything, staring anxiously at his face. 

“I’m a good profiler, you know.” He says, softly. 

I  chuckle a little at this, moving away so the tension can be relieved. “Trust me, I’m reminded of that every day.” I said, feeling like the distance between them was now more manageable, allowing me to talk.

But in a moment, he closed that distance to its predecessor, just as close as they were a moment ago. “You learn a lot about body language. Not just by learning to profile, but through years of experience. It just comes naturally, reading people. You can’t really turn it off. It’s like trying to forget how to breathe.” I hung onto his every word, and found my breath hitching when he directed his monologue to me. 

He gently inquires, “Do you understand?” 

I nod, looking up at him, as he inches closer. 

“So I hope you’ll understand and not take offense when I say I’ve been profiling you.” He pauses.  “Would you like to know what I’ve found out?” He says, looking right into my eyes at this point. 

My brain is screaming at me to say no, to not take the bait that he was dangling right in front of me, and to not cross that line tonight. Because, surely, that’s where this was going. I had a sneaking suspicion that the man in front of me was going to ruin me, if I let him. 

Instead, I ignore the instinct and intuition I normally rely on, and nod. “What did you find out, Dr Reid?” I responded, a bit shakier than I wanted to sound. 

“Your pupils dilate when I come near you. It’s an involuntary response, but I notice it every time. I’ve seen it in low and heavy lighting, the only commonality in both those situations being that we were in some proximity to each other.” His voice was low, and seductive, something I’d never heard from him before. 

“Your heart rate.” He murmurs, slowly picking up my wrist and pressing a thumb to the pulse point. “This isn’t exactly the best way to measure heart rate.” He explains, “My thumb. It carries its own pulse that can make it hard to distinguish between mine and yours. But right now, (Y/N)?” He mumbles. “I can tell. Because your pulse is going crazy right now. It’d be hard to miss.”  He said, with a low chuckle.

And he’s right, I can feel my heart getting faster with every second he speaks to me, in that hushed tone that seems to be driving me crazy. 

“It’s not just tonight. I’ve noticed it since the day you walked in.” He whispers, getting closer to my ear, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Since you brought that terrible coffee, actually.” 

I pulled back, letting out a noise that was both composed of surprise and amusement. “Oh come on, it was not that bad.” 

“It was, but I can tell you tried.” He said, a small smirk playing on his face. “It was cute.” He said, now taking the time to brush some hair out of my face. It all happened quickly, his gaze tender and soft, before he captured my lips in a swoon-worthy kiss, pressing himself against me. I quickly melted into the kiss, letting out a satisfied sigh as I gripped his forearm, before rising from the chair as he slowly guided me to my couch. I let out a nervous laugh as my knees hit the cushions, tumbling a bit as I fell onto the soft pillows. He immediately pulled back, breathless, looking at me worriedly. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He murmured softly, kissing me again, a bit more gentle so I could murmur a soft “no” against his lips. 

“Good.” He growled, positioning himself above me on the couch,  beginning to press hot kisses down my neck, eventually reaching my exposed sternum, and looking up at me through hooded lids for implicit consent to continue, to which I nodded, feverishly. 

“Please.” I whispered, hoarsely. 

He took no time in obliging my request, rising a bit to remove the fabric of my shirt in one, clean swoop and continuing his assault on my chest, leaving open-mouthed kissed, eventually switching to nips and playful bites, as he sucked marks into the swell of my breasts, leaving me letting out delighted sighs and soft moans, which only seemed to encourage him to go lower. I arched my back, screwing my eyes shut, until he felt him stop, and come back to my neck. 

He murmured against me, close to my ear. I could feel his lips slowly brush the sensitive skin between my ear and neck, barely giving me any real stimulation, but it was enough to drive me crazy anyway. 

“Keep your eyes open, baby.” He whispers. “I want to see every part of your pretty face when I do this.” He says, returning lower again, leaving little kisses everywhere he could possibly go with his lips. I opened my eyes on command, watching as he went lower and lower, before finding the button on my jeans, slowly undoing them with nimble fingers and moving them off  my legs. I could imagine them so vividly inside me, expertly guiding me to pleasure in a way that mine couldn’t. But right now, if I wasn’t fucked senseless by him right now, I’d just about lose my mind. 

“Spencer.” I whispered, breathlessly. “I need you.” I breathed out. “Please.” 

“You need me to do what?” He asked, smirking as he already began to undo his own belt. 

“Spencer.” I repeated, firmly, not wanting to say the words. 

“Say it.” He says, in a much more commanding tone. 

“Spencer..” I repeat, breathing out again. “Fuck. I need-” I waver on the words, biting my lip. “I need you to fuck me. Now.” 

His smirk turns into a grin of satisfaction and pride, capturing my lips in yet another passionate kiss. “Mm. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He says, cockily. I whined against his lips, tacitly begging him to just get on with it and he chuckles, moving off of my mouth. 

“Alright. I get it.” He says, moving his lips downwards again, his lips brushing against my underwear, as he began to remove that fabric as well. He nearly moaned when he saw just how wet I really was. It was a bit embarrassing, just from a few touches and words, but it was hard to care when I felt his tongue right on my core, beginning to lap at the hot flesh, reducing me to moans as I knotted my fingers into his hair, arching my back and bucking my hips to feel more of his ministrations. He seemed to understand, hooking his strong arms under my thighs, firmly planting me to the couch we were currently on, continuing. I could feel his moans against me, sending vibrations that only heightened my arousal in that moment. As if that was even possible. 

And then it was, because I heard him murmur against me.“You taste-” he paused, using his tongue to lap up more of my arousal. “So fucking good.” He finished, beginning to now harshly flick at my clit, which caused an entirely new slew of sensations. I recognized my end was fast approaching, and I tugged on his hair, unable to form the words as the white-hot pleasure overtook me quickly, he seemed to understand this without a word, nursing me through my orgasm as my thighs shook around him and he held my hips down. Even then, he didn’t stop, continuing to flick his tongue, lapping up my arousal until I had to physically push him away with a soft groan. “Spencer.. It’s too much.” Even then, he continued, reducing me to nothing but moans, and I heard him whisper. “Come on. One more. Please.” The words unintentionally caused a flutter in my stomach, and in record time I was being pushed towards my second orgasm in a matter of 5 minutes.

His mouth was clearly so much better at this than arguing. 

I felt him lap up the last bit of my arousal, looking up at me with a glistening chin, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was the most erotic sight in the world at that moment. The man that had questioned me at every turn, now in between my legs. He gave a smirk, moving up and giving me a rough kiss, and I didn’t hesitate to moan in his mouth when I could taste myself on his tongue. He smiled as he broke the kiss, caressing my cheek with one of his hands. His thumb moved along the smooth expanse of my cheeks. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, gently, concern in his eyes. 

I couldn’t help but break out into a dazed smile, nodding, a thin cover of sheen over my body, where I was still breathing heavily. “Yeah. I’m good.” 

“Good.” He breathed out. “I’m not stopping.” 

“I don’t want you to stop,” was my response, his shirt coming off before I’d even finished my sentence. 

I watched in fascination as he undid his belt, the very sound of it filling me with anticipation and desire. I could feel myself getting more aroused by the second, despite my previous two orgasms. I wanted him, I wanted this so badly. 

I felt him position himself over me, and feeling the head of his arousal run through my folds. I let out a breathy groan, as I felt him push into me. He let out a moan of his own, shutting his eyes. “You feel.. So fucking good.” 

I whimpered slightly as my body adjusted to him and his size. He was so big, and I’d never felt full like this before. He noticed this and placed a gentle kiss against my lips, watching my face as it contorted in pleasure and pain. As the pain began to subside, I looked up at him nodding. 

“Move, please.” I begged, the desperation evident in my voice.

He took no time in obeying my request, beginning to slowly thrust in and out of me. I moaned, feeling his cock stretch me and fill me up in a way I had never been full before. A pleasant sensation bloomed through my lower abdomen, and I could feel him bury his head into my shoulder as he pushed into me, my walls clenching on his length with every movement he gave. He pressed wet kisses into my neck, and I moaned happily at the feeling. In an instant, I could feel him fucking me desperately, placing both of his hands on either side of my face. I could feel my jaw drop, and no sound came out. I was being hurdled towards my third orgasm of the night and it was all at the behest of the man in front of me, plowing into me like it was his job. 

I moaned loudly, my legs wrapping around his waist in an attempt to keep him buried in my deepest point, feeling my release creeping up on me. 

“Sp-Spencer..” I groaned, attempting to alert him of my impending orgasm, but he simply swooped down, kissing me roughly, which only caused me to moan into his mouth. 

“I know, baby.” He whispered, in a deliciously dark tone. “Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you make a mess all over my cock.” 

It took no more provocation from there, as I felt my hips buck up once more and my thighs shake. I came with a loud moan of his name, my free hand gripping onto him and leaving scratches I knew wouldn’t go away for a while. 

My release seemed to spur him on, the wetness allowing him to fuck into me harder. I watched the man above me lose all control, and it was beautiful. He grunted a bit, and I could feel his hips stutter, chasing after his orgasm. 

“Please, Spencer.” I begged. “Fill me up, I need to feel you come inside me.” I whispered. 

It didn’t take long after that, after a particularly hard thrust, a warmness filled me at my hilt and Spencer nearly collapsed over me. He gave me a kiss, murmuring into the skin of my neck. “So perfect, so fucking perfect for me.” 

I smiled at the praise, biting my lip. I let my hand traverse over his back, drawing figures into the warm skin. I looked at the man laying on my sternum, looking absolutely fucked out despite being the one to give me three orgasms tonight. “Perfect, you say?” I teased. 

He looked up at me, kissing my lips softly, before mumbling against them, “Mm. Perfect.” 

I had a sneaking suspicion the next time we were at work, and he’d have something to say about my work, (because he always did), it wouldn’t take long to have him whispering sweet nothings to me in an instant, just like he was now. At least I could do something right on the first try.

hi!! this is my first fanfiction i've written since i was literally in middle school. spoiler. far from middle school right now. leave a comment, reblog, like, whatever! i had fun writing this. my ask box should be open for more requests? if anyone would like. anyway! hope u enjoyed!! :3

[flemingsfreckles]

Physio’s Daughter pt.2

Jessie Fleming x Physio!Reader

Preview: read Part 1, you continue to work with the Canadian team and your partnership with Jessie develops

Warning: some cursing I think, very very very minimal suggestion to sex

WC: 3.8k

A/N: this might be my new favorite story I’m writing (sorry all you Better Boyfriend fans)

The next week had gone by in a flash. Mark had called you, telling you the same things that your mom already had. He wanted to extend an offer to you to join the team, working as a student, for the summer and through the Olympics. He also mentioned that Jessie had spoken highly of you directly to him. Knowing how impressive having experience working for Team Canada would look to future jobs, you couldn’t turn down the offer.

Upon accepting you had started working everyday at the training facility, sometimes carpooling with your mom, picking her up from your childhood home and other days she would swing by your apartment and pick you up. Other days when she would have meetings or individual appointments you weren’t invited to, you’d drive separately.

On your first day Mark had sat you down in his office and asked you about your experience and what you were hoping to gain from your summer. You told him the more you could do the better, whatever he thought would be the best.

You honestly didn’t care too much about the jobs they gave you, as a student you expected to do the simple, more mundane work, making ice bags, organizing closets, restocking first aid kits. You expected to be more of an observer, stepping in only if extra hands were needed.

However much to your surprise, Mark had decided the opposite for you. After your meeting he had asked you to sit tight as he walked out and into the dressing room. He came back with a half dressed captain, Jessie only wearing her training shorts and actively throwing on a sweatshirt as she followed Mark back into the office.

“Oh, you’re back!” Jessie exclaimed when saw you sitting in Mark's office.

“She is.” Before you can answer for yourself Mark steps in. “And I want you two to work together. For one, Jessie we need to have your calf back to 100% before Paris, on top of that as captain, you need to be in the loop as far as what is going on with your teammates. That’s where you two are going to mingle.” His finger points between you and Jessie before he turns his attention to you.

“I want you to be fully responsible for working with Jessie on her calf. I think that will be a better use of your time, instead of throwing you 50 small tasks, take on one large one, do it right. Obviously if you need guidance, the rest of the team is here but I want you to take as much of the lead on it as possible.”

“Understood, I can do that.”

He turns to face Jessie. “Assuming you’re okay with that? You know your own body, if you have concerns or questions about her treatment plan, ask. She’s a student, we don’t expect her to be perfect, you’ll help her. I’m not making you a Guinea pig, you’re not a test subject, more of a learning experience. I mean that in the best way possible.”

“Of course, I feel good about that.” You feel relieved as Jessie agrees to his plan, you hadn’t had much time for the nerves around the responsibility of this job to build up too much but there were some doubts starting.

“As far as the stuff beyond your calf. I want Jessie to get updates on teammate’s, not details but just general ideas of who’s having more fatigue, who needs to be watched, any of those things that as captain she should know, you need to be informing her.” He’s now back looking at you.

“Yes sir, I can do that.”

“Perfect, then you’re both free to go.” He claps his hands together and then motions toward the door.

Jessie is the first one out, she holds the door open for you as you follow her into the main physio room. The rest of the room is empty, today was just a film and media day, most of the players not coming in for any treatments. The physio staff had found themselves elsewhere in the building. Behind you, your boss leaves his office, locking the door before tossing a pair of keys in your direction. He tells you it’s they keys to get in the building and the master key for anything in the training room, in the event you’re here before anyone else. You thank him and watch as he leaves, leaving you and Jessie alone.

You watch as Jessie wanders over to one of the tables, turning and with what seems like ease, pushing herself up and onto the table with her arms. She flops back laying fully down on the table and you can’t help but notice when she puts her arms behind her head her sweatshirt rides up, exposing the lower bit of her abdomen. Catching yourself staring for a second too long you turn away and walk over to the end of the table where her head was.

She has her eyes closed, hands resting behind her head, she looks peaceful. She must have been able to hear you move by her, she opens one eye, looking in your direction.

“Somehow, media day tires me out more than anything.” She goes back to having both eyes closed.

“Because you hate it.” You answer, you’re not sure if she was even asking for a reason but the silence felt uncomfortable and you wanted to fill it. Her eyes both open and she turns her head to look at you. Her eyebrows are pinched slightly as if she’s confused by your statement.

“You hate being in front of the camera right? You probably work yourself up over it, whether you know it or not. It’s probably more stressful on you mentally than playing is.”

“Wow no one told me you were going to school to be an emotional therapist too.” You can practically feel sarcasm dripping off her sentence. She rolls her eyes at you and for a second you feel like an idiot, she obviously knew she hated being in front of the camera, you didn’t need to tell her.

Jessie moves to flip over, propping her head up on her hands. Her smile is big across her face. She reaches an arm out and swats at you, hitting just above your thigh that was at her eye level as you stood at the end of the bed.

“I’m joking, loosen up. If you stay this nervous all summer you’re going to hate it here.”

You knew she was right, being uptight was not going to make anything easier or any part of coming to work fun. But knowing she was right and actually trying to lessen your nerves were two different things.

It took time but by the end of your second week you were feeling more comfortable, slightly confident in the choices you were making, you felt familiar with the staff and all the players, it was becoming more fun.

You and Jessie had fallen into an easy routine. You’d both get to the training facility earlier than everyone, you’d both sit down in your makeshift office and go through paperwork. You’d take the time to run her through each of her teammates, giving her the information that Mark had requested she get as captain. Sometimes there were only a handful of updates to give her and the two of you would end up sitting around chatting.

When her teammates began to arrive you’d make your way into the training room, Jessie would get changed and come back to start treatment on her leg. You’d run her through exercises, stretches, regimes for icing, all the necessary recovery steps for her leg. You’d still run around, occasionally helping the rest of the players, taping, rolling, massaging, but you always came back to check on Jessie. You didn’t think much of it, the time you were spending together, if anything it was more of a requirement for the two of you to spend time together, not a choice.

During training Jessie would check in during water breaks, you weren’t sure that was required but she always found her way over to you, chatting for a minute, usually starting with an update on how she was playing but sometimes just telling you other information, what she had for dinner, the color of the puppy she saw on her way in, small details about her life, before she’d have to go back out.

The more you talked with her the more your silly little young school girl crush came back. Only by this time it was full force attraction, more than just a crush. You were confused how everyone who talked with her wasn’t in love with her. She was kind. It was a simple way to describe her and definitely didn’t do her justice but she was, at the end of the day she was kind and good natured and it drove you crazy.

She was always quick to help you find something in the training room, quick to offer you an extra jacket if she saw you were cold watching training, first one to offer to carry any equipment to and from the field. It was her small gestures that stood out so much.

After training you had a similar routine, helping her, and other players with their recovery. Talking with Jessie about her calf, offering various treatment options to her and letting her guide you. You’d finish your treatment with her and unlike most players who would hurry out of the training room in a rush to get home, she’d stay around talking, offering to help clean or just sitting around. She’d stay until most of the staff had begun to go home and Mark would usually tell her to get out.

It wasn’t long before others took notice of the partnership the two of you had developed.

After a late night at the facility, your Mom began poking at the subject on the ride home.

“How’s it going with Jessie?”

“She’s good, calf is still giving her tightness but it’s less frequent than before, I think she’ll be playing full 90’ before the end of camp.” You think nothing of her question, assuming she’s asking about how her recovery is coming along given the Olympics were coming up quickly.

“She sure does hang around you a lot.” You start to hear the accusatory tone in her voice.

“She’s required to, Mark told both of us we have to work together.”

“I’m pretty sure staying late everyday, to do nothing but sit around with you, wasn’t in the requirements, or the extra chats during water breaks.” She looks over at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Usually she’s giving me updates on her leg.” Defending her behavior to your Mom, it wasn’t really your fault Jessie came over to talk during practice.

“Don’t lie to me, you two were talking about the new pasta place down the road today.”

You don’t say anything back to her, just staring as she glances between the road and back to you.

“Look, I’m saying this as someone superior to you at work, I just think you need to be careful. This is a job, you’re responsible for her health. You can’t be messing around, she’s a coworker. You don’t want to appear unprofessional.”

As if her scolding wasn't enough, she adds, “As your mom, I have to say, she’s 4 years older than you. She’s as close to 30 as you are 18. You’re still a student, she has her career figured out, you’re only just starting yours. Not to mention it’s usually not a good idea to sleep with someone you work with, it makes things complicated.”

“Mom! I’m not sleeping with her.” Your voice is raised, and you feel your cheeks start to burn at your Mom’s suggestion. It’s a mix of anger and embarrassment, mainly from the fact that she would accuse you of sleeping with Jessie, that’s not fair to you or to her.

This is what you hated about working with your Mom, she would still be your Mom at the end of the day. You knew she kept a close eye on you, closer than Mark, closer than any of the other staff, she watched you like a hawk, all day everyday.

“There’s nothing going on.” You add, “She has no interest, it’s work for both of us.” You were thankful when your mom pulled into the driveway to your apartment complex.

“Just take a second to consider what other people might think. You don’t need to have a bad reputation this early in your career because of a fling.” The way she was talking to you felt like you were back in high school and she had caught you sneaking beers to take to a friend's house. It was a voice of concern mixed with a hint of disappointment.

“I already told you, nothing is happening. I don’t need a ride tomorrow, I can take myself.” You tell your mom as you exit the car, closing the door behind you a bit harder than you should.

When you get inside you let your bag hit the ground hard. Frustration from your mom’s comments is still running through your veins. You move to the kitchen, grabbing leftovers out of the fridge and throwing them in the microwave for a minute.

As you eat you think about work, you had to meet with Jessie tomorrow morning but you decide after that you were going to prove to your mom there was nothing going on. You were going to distance yourself, give Jessie the same treatment as everyone else.

That’s what you do, for the next few days you still meet with Jessie in the morning, giving her updates but kicking her out of the office once your professional talks are over. Jessie seemed a bit confused the first few days as you pulled away more and more from her but she never mentioned it to you. You’d finish her recovery treatments and then head into your office which was more of a closet made into a temporary office. You would claim you had paperwork to do and then end up just staring at the blank computer in front of you, wishing you could be having a mindless conversation with her about dogs or bikes or travel spots. Jessie had numerous stories from traveling with Chelsea that you loved hearing about, with every story she told you, you added a travel destination to your bucket list.

You kept up with distancing yourself, somewhat grateful that the international window was coming to a close while you still would have to go to work, Jessie wouldn’t be there forcing you to avoid her.

It was the second to last day of the international window and you were getting started on morning treatments before the friendly match the team had later that afternoon. You had given Jessie her heat pack, not sticking around to talk with her but moving over to where Janine was sitting on the table chatting with some of the other girls.

“Waiting to get your knee taped?” You ask, offering to do it for her.

“Yeah that would be great.” You move to grab tape and adhesive spray. You zone out of the conversations being had around you as you get to work, you’d see how Janine’s knee was taped everyday so it was an easy task to do but not completely a habit you had to use some focus.

“You’re only saying that Jess because it’s the most recent coffee you’ve had.” You zone back into the conversation hearing Janine mention Jessie.

“What about you?” Janine kicks her leg slightly, indicating she was talking to you.

“Sorry, what?” You hadn’t heard what the question was, too zoned out in your own thoughts.

“What’s your go-to coffee order?”

“Oh, usually a cold brew, sometimes I’ll add caramel or raspberry syrup, nothing too crazy.” You answer as you finish up taping her knee. “You’re all set.” You pat her knee and she hops up off the table, thanking you and heading out the door.

You turn and see Jessie putting away her heat pack, something you usually did for her. She gives you a glance, a blank expression on her face as she moves to grab the ball to roll out. As her teammates all filter out, it’s just you and Jessie left in the training room as the rest of the staff followed out to set up for the match. She hadn’t said much to you all day and something felt off, you attempted to make conversation with her.

“Are you looking forward to being back in Portland?”

“Yeah, sort of, I always miss the people here, Portland is all still so new, not quite home yet. Plus the training staff there isn’t nearly as fun, you won’t be-”

“Hey if you’re not doing anything besides chatting, come help set up.” Your Mom’s voice comes from across the room, her head stuck through the door.

Of course she walked in now, not when you were helping Beckie, not when you had been filling water bottles, not when you had been talking to Julia about ankle taping, not when you were having a friendly chat with Quinn, not when you were helping the other staff refill first aid kits. Of course she walked in when it was just you and Jessie, not helping her accusations from last week.

“Coming.” You turn away from Jessie and follow your mom out. As you follow down the hallway she looks back at you. She doesn’t say anything but her glare is enough to keep you from trying to defend what she saw.

The friendly was easy, no injuries, no issues, Canada taking the win 3-1. Jessie was able to get back into playing a full 90’ which while you tried not to show it, you felt proud of. You were proud of your own work, being able to get her back with your help but also proud of Jessie for working through her injury. Thankfully since she was playing the full 90’ there was no time for her to chat with you on the bench, much to your Mom’s relief. You had finished up the evening working with some of the team on stretching and helping them plan for their few weeks back at their club teams. It wasn’t difficult work but it had kept you late at the stadium, leading to a rough start to your next morning.

You were sitting at your desk early at 5am, head resting against your hands, you were exhausted, the game ending late last night, staying to finish up recovery and cleaning up took a toll on your sleep already. What also didn’t help was lying in bed thinking about Jessie. She had felt cold today, she didn’t come to talk to you during halftime, she didn’t ask for extra help during recovery like she normally did. You knew it was your fault, well your Mom’s fault for her comments, but you were the one who pulled back from her first. You felt bad, pulling away from her but it’s what seemed to be the right thing.

“Hey.” A knock on your door frame pulls you from your exhausted brain fog. You look up to see Jessie much to your surprise, you hadn’t planned any of the players to be in this morning. They only had to be in later for film and to wrap up the camp before everyone went back to their clubs for a few weeks before the Olympic period began.

“Can I?” She pointed to the chair she usually would sit in.

“Of course.” You gesture to the chair across from you and Jessie walks in, two coffees in her hands. She places them both on the table before sliding one across the desk to you.

“What’s this for?”

“You.” She takes a sip from her own coffee. You take a look at the handwriting on the cup, labeling your drink as a cold brew with raspberry. You look up at Jessie questioning how she got your order.

“You mentioned your coffee order to Janine yesterday.” She says with a shrug as if you had directly told her your order and she hadn’t been listening into your conversation.

“You didn’t have to get me a coffee Jessie.” You take a sip of it anyway, you weren’t one to turn down caffeine especially after a long night.

“Well it’s more of an excuse to talk to you. I wanted to see what’s been going on.”

“Nothing new really, especially going into the break, no new injuries or anything from last night so no real updates, everyone’s doing well-”

“That’s not what I meant.” She cuts you off. “Sorry to interrupt, it's just I meant why it feels like you’re hiding from me?”

“Oh. Um.” You spin the coffee cup between your hands, looking down at it. You didn’t want to have to explain to her that your Mom is concerned you have a crush.

“If I did something, I’m sorry, I can fix-”

“You didn’t do anything.” You let out a sigh, there’s no way you were going to get out of talking with Jessie. You didn’t want to have to explain it to her, but you also didn’t want her sitting around thinking she did something wrong.

“It’s more my Mom, as embarrassing as that is to admit.” You pinch your eyes shut, feeling shy that you’re admitting that as a 22 year old, your Mom got into your head and made you change your behavior.

“Your Mom?” Jessie seems surprised, she definitely wasn’t expecting your Mom to be involved.

“She made some comments to me, she thought our relationship was becoming unprofessional. She even accused me, well us, of sleeping together.” You explain your behavior, you regret mentioning the sleeping together part as soon as it comes out of your mouth. You keep staring at the coffee in your hands, too nervous to look up and see Jessie’s reaction.

“Oh.” Jessie doesn’t say anything else.

“I obviously told her it wasn’t anything besides professional. We were just working, but her words got in my head so I figured the easiest way was to take a step back.”

“Oh come on!?” You could see her throw her hands up in your peripheral vision.

“What?” You lifted your head to look at her. You weren’t sure why she seemed to be annoyed with you.

“Am I really that bad of a flirt that you thought all those conversations we had were strictly professional?”

[victoria-grimesss]

Call the Doctor, I'm in Love

masterlist

->Paring: Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Medic!Fem!Reader

->Words: 2.9k

->Warning: fluff & angst, mentions of injury/wounds

->Summary: Soap has a big ol crush on you, he’s not sneaky or quiet about it. Here are the many times he’s fantasized about you and the one time you answered his dreams.

->A/N: a little something because I love Foap!

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish is a pretty guy, a hunk if you will and he knows it. He has no troubles with the ladies and is highly experienced but he always feels like he’s lacking something, someone. Until you came along, pretty new medic. You’re his favorite. He always goes to you for a patch up even waiting for medical help until you come back from break. Johnny is a saint, he is a patient and giving man. 

But he wants you, desperately. He’s got a big fat crush and he’s not quiet about it. The 141 is exhausted hearing about what you did today and that Soap thinks you looked dreamy today, stitching up his arm. He saw you look at him a little extra that means you want to be with him right? They can’t wait until you either reject the poor fool or take him on a bloody date. Here are the times poor Mactavish has swooned over you:

The 1st Time: Your Introduction

Soap has found himself head over heels for you. He first saw you in the medical tent after him and an enemy went headfirst over a steep rockwall, he was fine of course, seems like that guy can bounce back from anything, you had nursed him back to health and he was done for. Your caring words and gentle hands were all he wanted now. And imagine his surprise and excitement when you became the team's new task-force medic.

“Alright team I hope you read over the file, we got a new member to our team. She's going to be our medic but don’t worry she can hold our own on the field. She’s reliable and damn good at her job. We’ve had too many close calls lately and I don’t want anyone dying of something that could have been prevented.”

Price ends his introduction and you greet your way around the room, everyone is nice enough for tuff military men. You find yourself sitting next to John, or Soap, or sometimes Johnny depending on who you ask. He’s a good looking guy, as are the rest in the room but you have a job to do so you don’t plan on messing up your place on the team by intermingling with one of them.

“Aye lass, do you carry one of those stethoscope things around with ya?”

He’s leaning on one arm, checking out the equipment you had brought with you.

“I usually keep it in the office, why is something wrong?”

You’re looking him over for anything obvious but nothing sounds any alarm.

“Ah no, it’s just my heart… it’s acting funny, beats a little faster when you come around.”

He’s smiling and you laugh not expecting a bad pick-up line but seems like he’s that kind of guy.

“I see. Well might want to try working on your cardio then that’ll improve that heart rate of yours.”

He pauses, thinking of what to say next to lure you in.

“You like bars doctor?”

“Not particularly..”

“Would ya mind joining me, I hate drinking alone.”

You smile, amused.

“Why not one of the other boys, someone you’re more familiar with.”

You’re looking into your bag and he drops his head lower so you’ll look him in the eyes.

“I’d like to be more familiar with you bonnie.”

You stop and put your hands on your hips pretending to think.

“Well I’m not so interesting, just a doctor after all. I’m sure Gaz would love to join you, you two seem the best of friends.”

He seems a little discouraged when you don’t play into his game but he looks at the small smile that plays on your lips and knows he’s just gotta keep trying. You won’t shake him off that easily.

—

The 2nd Time: The Flu Incident

Flu season. Your favorite time of the year, your inner monologue drips with sarcasm as you scrub your hands raw for the sixth time today. It’s late afternoon and the sun dips over the horizon as the rooms are casted with a honey soaked orange glow. The murmurs from the outside hallway peak your interest and you dry your hands and exit to the hall.

“I told you MacTavish I can help you just as easily as any other nurse or doctor, just come into my office and we’ll get you fixed up.” 

An older more seasoned nurse has her hands on her hips, gaze pointed at Soap with a motherly disapproved look at her face. You step out of the room tossing the paper towel into the bin.

“Troubled patient?” 

Soap lifts his head at your voice and he smiles, voice nasally and strained.

“Ah there ya are bonnie, been waiting for you. Think you can fix me?” 

“You’d be in better hands with her you know? Unlike me she knows what she’s doing.” 

Your tone is playful and Johnny stands weakly, hand on the wall.

“Yea but you’re my favorite, can’t feel better unless it’s you.”

The other nurse is called away shooting you a good luck look with her eyes, no doubt happy to not have to deal with the sickly man.

“Alright Johnny whatever you say. Let’s get you to a bed.”

“You’re a real saint hen.”

You place a steady hand on his back leading him to the bed in your office, away from the overflow so he can hopefully get some rest.

“Alright Johnny go ahead and lay down I’ll get your temp and let’s see if we can break that fever alright?”

He groans as he lays down obviously dealing with joint pain from the flu, it’s a nasty one that’s hit the base this time.

You run a washcloth under cool water, grab your thermometer, and sit next to him making sure he’s comfortable. You take his temp and frown, 

“Give it to me straight doctor, am I going to make it?”

He grips your hand dramatically and you laugh while patting his hand.

“I think you’ll just scrape by, it’ll be close though.”

“Oh thank heavens. Guess you’ll just have to take extra close care of me right?”

He’s giving you those stupid puppy dog eyes again as you place the washcloth on his forehead and place the back of your hand on his cheek to feel the temp there as well.

“I guess since I’m part of your team now I’ll have to make sure you live, so yes. I will take extra good care of you.”

You smile at him softly, you don’t like seeing anyone sick but sick Soap reminds you of a kicked puppy.

You miss the way his eyes shine up at you as you chart his info. How the thoughts in his head are those of you and him on dates, what ring he will propose to you with, where you’ll honeymoon and various other daydreams he has swirling around. He would do anything for you to be his, he would capture the stars for you.

You get up from your chair to put his info into the computer and he looks at the sad flowers on the side table, shriveled and needing to be tossed.

“These flowers aren't lookin so good.”

You glance over and frown.

“Oh yeah, it’s been so busy lately I haven't had a chance to replace them yet.”

He hums and you walk back over to him and give him some painkillers and electrolyte drink mix.

“Take these and get some rest please, it’ll do you good.”

He sits up, eyes on you as he takes the pills, handing you the little cup back.

“I’ll get you some new flowers, take you out too.”

You’re facing away from him, a smile gracing your features.

“Johnny, I-”

“You don’t have to say yes now lass, just please, for the sake of my well-being think on it.”

You move over to him and dab the cloth onto his cheeks and cool down his pulse points, heart growing slightly as you reply.

“Sure Johnny, I’ll think about it. Now sleep, doctor's orders.”

He sleeps quietly next to you as you finish your charting. The sight of him so calm warms your heart and it scares you a little bit, you wouldn't want to throw off the balance of the team or make any weird power dynamics by falling for him but he makes it harder and harder. 

The next week fresh flowers are left on the side table.

—

The 3rd Time: Award Ceremony Ball

Dressed to the nines each of you are. A very successful mission rewarded the whole team with a variety of medals and everyone was looking very nice all cleaned up.

Your dress was a floor gown with a slip up the leg and your back was exposed, the dress felt so silky and it was nice to not be covered in blood for once. Although you did manage to spill some kind of fancy jam on it and you were frantically dabbing at it with water when you were interrupted with Soap meeting up with you.

“Well don’t you look nice.” 

He’s lively tonight, eyes bright with optimism after the job and sporting brand new chest candy to show off.

Your eyes drift up from the new stain on your dress to him and he, well he looks damn good. A new pink scar graces his jawline but it looks good on him, he can wear scars well.

“Thank you, you clean up well yourself too.”

“Ah bonnie don’t make me blush now.” 

The rest of the team is chatting at a nearby table, Price is nursing a short glass of something dark, Gaz is going to town on the amazing food, and Ghost is engaged in conversation with the two of them.

“You wanna head back to the table?”

You offer, he shakes his head and offers his hand.

“I ask the fine lady to a dance.”

You blush, never asked to dance before, the ballroom floor filled with experts, couples swirling to the melody in the air.

You stew on it for a moment, and put your hand in his.

“Ok but if I fall you fall with me okay?”

“Always.”

Your hands are intertwined, one of his is on your waist and yours is on his shoulder. You both try to copy what the others do and the messy dance combined with the flutes of champagne you both consumed makes for quite the site. The mess of bumping feet and unsteady movements.

“For a sergeant you’re rather uncoordinated MacTavish.” Your laugh is light.

“I didn’t go to fuckin dance school, certainly didn’t learn this in the marines that’s for sure. What, did they teach this in medical school?”

“Does it look like they did? I can stitch up a bullet wound but lord help me I can't dance for shit.”

You bump into him again and his grip tightens slightly.

“I got ya bonnie.”

He could be living in a dream right now, you in such a pretty dress adorned in your well deserved medals, him with his. You’re gripping his shoulder and he’s got you in his arms, he can smell your perfume and see the small hairs out of place as the two of you spin but he loves it all the same. He wants it all the same.

“Johnny. Can you hear me?”

He blinks harshly, really sinking back in. You’re not his right now, he can’t take you back to his place after this and kiss each part of you, unzip the dress and let his fingers graze over the skin that's revealed to him. Watch how you move under the moonlight as he touches you just as he imagined. Not yet.

“Yea?”

“I said I think Gaz just devoured his fourth bowl of that dip I wanted to try.”

“Must be good then, should we head over before he finishes it all?”

You laugh and agree.

“Thank you for the dance MacTavish, you made me feel less silly for not knowing what I’m doing.”

His eyes sparkle at your admiration.

“I’m always happy to help.”

—

The 4th Time: Yes

This mission could not have been more fucked up. Shrapnel flies and bullets whiz by. The air is cold but your body is so hot, on fire from the adrenaline. 

The coms are staticy and choppy but you can make out the team. 

An undercover mission with Soap had you outside a pretty nice villa at dusk. It was meant to pose as a couple on a retreat to gain intel from an organization nearby but all hell had broken loose. You're cornered and Soap had been down to three bullets and you at two until you were able to take down someone else and gain the upper hand.

Communication with the team was hard, they had sent for backup now you just had to wait.

And Soap is shot.

He has taken a bullet for you and you’re frantic. 

“Fuck Johnny, shit.”

He grimaces as you rip your bag off of your back to grab for first aid. It’s not enough though, you had to pack light and it’s not enough.

“Stupid ass job, told them to find a way to get more equipment.”

You’re more muttering to yourself, ripping things out of the small bag you were allotted to patch him up.

“You’re cute when you’re frustrated.”

Johnny laughs and it sends him into a coughing fit, the bullet is in his side. You pray it hasn't done permanent damage but the gravel in his cough scares the hell out of you.

“Hold on Johnny, I’m gonna get you fixed up alright, just stay still.”

A bullet nearly misses your head and he shoots back hitting the guy before clutching his side again.

“You think that’s all of them?”

“Fucking hope so, I need- I have to clean it.”

He’s strong, so strong and sweet and kind and nice and charming and you can’t lose him. 

Not when you know you want him now. That you need him now. 

“Gonna lift your shirt ok? Just watch your breathing.”

“Aye, not even going to take me to dinner first.”

Your eyes are blurry as tears slip down, first one the two.

He wipes them away, his blood smearing onto your face and you choke back a sob.

“C’mon bonnie, don't cry. I hate seeing you cry.”

His voice grows weaker the more he speaks and you beg him to stop, but he rambles. 

He talks about how each morning he wakes up to see if you’re up yet. He waits for you at the gym, always goes to you when he feels unwell, gushes to the rest of the team about you when you’re not around. 

He flirts openly with you and what a fool you’ve been to not reciprocate fully, to reel into him.

The needle breaks his skin and his eyes grow heavy, the blood is still flowing freely and you almost feel it rushing out of you as well.

“I’m so sorry Johnny.”

You stitch and wipe and repeat. It’s a gaping wound and it makes you sick seeing it on him. 

You’re so focused on stitching him you don’t notice when his eyes close. His breathing is shallower now. 

Your eyes race around his face, head now slumped to the side.

You wipe the wound, it’s not good but it should be ok. Heavy on should.

Your hand, coated in blood cups his cheek, shaking.

“Johnny?”

You move his head, it's heavy in your hands and your breathing hurts now.

You get closer, enough to press his forehead to yours and you inhale his smell. 

You hold cloth to his wound to try to stop the bleeding and you whisper promises to him if he will just pull through. 

Your lips are so close to his that when your tears roll down your face they roll off your nose onto his lips.

The hand that cups his cheek feels his pulse on his neck and it’s quiet and slow. It’s so silent here now.

“I’m so sorry Johnny. I love you. Fuck I love you so much I just didn’t want to mess anything up. Please don’t leave yet. 

You lips touch his softly, like if you pressed any harder he would shatter.

“Could have- could have told me all that before I was dying yea?”

He laughs weakly, his smile cracking the corner of his lips. You cup his face fully now, careful to remove your hand from the wound but you applied enough pressure by now the blood has coagulated some. 

“You mean all that?” His eyes are heavy but he still looks at you with that same shining he always did.

“Yes, god yes. I just didn't want to mess up the team dynamic but I don’t care anymore, you just have to pull through alright then let's go out.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Blades of the helicopter sound nearby cutting through the silence.

“Just hold on Johnny we’re gonna get you patched up. Then I want to see you in that suit again.”

“Anything for you bonnie.”

—

He recovered well with you by his side of course. You dressed his wound properly and gave him a kiss to make it heal faster he would say. Then two weeks later he showed up in a suit with flowers at your office door. The rest is history, but the team is much happier not listening to Soap’s rambling about you but they are happy nonetheless.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Bridges to Belonging

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Summary: Y/n needed a new gig to bring in a little extra cash while she finished her PhD research at the hospital. The Hotchners are looking for a nanny for their infant son, Jack.

Spencer is not in this part, just introducing Y/n to the team!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: Backstory

Warnings/Includes: none!

Word count: 1.3k

a/n: hi!! i am so back in my spencer reid shit it is insane. here goes me writing a self indulgent fanfic because i can't get this idea out of my head. let me know what you think!!

main masterlist

Washington, D.C. - Spring 2005

The small conference room at the hospital was dimly lit, the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead. Y/n L/n sat at the long table, reviewing her notes for her dissertation on child psychology. The hospital had been her second home for the past few years, a place where she could immerse herself in her research while pursuing her passion for helping children. 

As she packed up her things, her phone buzzed with a text message from a friend, forwarding a job listing. 

*Nanny needed for newborn. Reliable, experienced, and patient. Contact Haley Hotchner at [xxx-xxx-xxxx].*

Y/n considered the opportunity, her mind calculating the benefits of having some extra income while she completed her PhD. Besides, she loved working with children. After a moment’s thought, she dialed the number.

“Hello, this is Haley Hotchner,” a warm voice answered.

“Hi, Haley, my name is Y/n L/n. I’m calling about the nanny position. I’m currently finishing my PhD in psychology and have experience working with children,” Y/n explained, her voice steady but hopeful.

“Wonderful! We’re looking for someone who can become part of our family, especially with Aaron’s demanding job. Can we meet for an interview?” Haley asked, her tone inviting and sincere.

“Of course, I’d love to,” Y/n replied, feeling a flutter of excitement at the prospect.

---

Y/n arrived at the Hotchner residence a week later, it was a quaint home in a quiet neighborhood. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, smoothing her hair as she waited. The door opened to reveal a smiling Haley Hotchner, holding a sleeping baby in her arms.

“You must be Y/n! Come in, please,” Haley greeted her warmly.

As Y/n stepped inside, she felt an immediate sense of comfort and belonging. The home was cozy, filled with family photos and the soft scent of baby powder. 

Haley led Y/n to the living room, where Aaron Hotchner sat, looking relaxed in casual clothes, a stark contrast to his usual suits. He stood to shake her hand, his demeanor polite and welcoming.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n,” Aaron said, his handshake firm but friendly. “Haley has told me good things about you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hotchner. It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Y/n replied, smiling as she sat down.

“Please, call me Aaron,” he insisted, exchanging a glance with Haley.

The interview was less formal than Y/n had anticipated. Aaron and Haley asked her about her studies, her experience with children, and her aspirations. She, in turn, learned about their lives, Aaron’s work with the FBI, and their hopes for raising Jack in a loving environment.

“We’re really looking for someone who can be a part of Jack’s life as he grows,” Haley explained, gently rocking Jack in her arms. “Someone we can trust.”

Y/n nodded, feeling a connection with the couple. “I’d love to be that person. Working with children is my passion, and I think I could learn a lot from Jack, too.”

Aaron smiled, looking at Haley before turning back to Y/n. “We’d like to offer you the position, Y/n. If you will take it, we want to welcome you to the family.”

Y/n beamed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “Thank you, Aaron, Haley. I promise to do my best for Jack and your family.”

---

Over the next two years, Y/n became an integral part of the Hotchner household. She cared for Jack with a dedication that went beyond her job description, forming a bond with the infant that was almost maternal. She found herself spending evenings with Haley, talking about life, love, and dreams. Aaron, despite his demanding job, always made time to catch up with Y/n, appreciating her insight into Jack’s development and her ability to connect with people. As Jack neared his second birthday, Y/n knew her time as his nanny was coming to an end. He was ready to start preschool, and she had secured a position at the hospital as a child psychologist. Yet, leaving the Hotchners felt like leaving a part of her own family. 

On her last day as Jack’s nanny, Y/n sat in the backyard with Haley, watching Jack play in the autumn leaves.

“We’re going to miss you, Y/n,” Haley said, her voice tinged with sadness. “You’re like a sister to us.”

Y/n smiled, touched by Haley’s words. “I’m going to miss you all too. You’ve been my family here.”

Haley nodded, tears in her eyes. “Promise you’ll visit? Jack will need his Aunt Y/n around.”

“Always,” Y/n promised, her heart full. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

---

Life moved on, but Y/n never lost touch with the Hotchners. She visited often, spending time with Jack as he grew into a lively toddler. Her work at the hospital kept her busy, but she cherished the moments she could steal away to see them.

One evening, as she was leaving the hospital, her phone buzzed with a text from Aaron.

We’re going out for drinks to celebrate a closed case. Care to join us?

Y/n smiled at the invitation, feeling a warmth at the thought of seeing Aaron and meeting his team. She quickly replied.

I’d love to! Where should I meet you?

---

Y/n walked into the bar, scanning the room for a familiar face. She spotted Aaron standing with a group of people, all engaged in animated conversation. 

As she approached, Aaron waved her over, a rare smile on his usually serious face.

“Y/n! Glad you could make it,” Aaron greeted, introducing her to the team. “Everyone, this is Y/n L/n. She used to be Jack’s nanny and is basically family.”

Y/n smiled and waved, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “Hi, everyone! It’s great to meet you all.”

Penelope Garcia, the team’s tech-savvy and flamboyant analyst, immediately stepped forward, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Oh my gosh, I love your outfit! Finally, someone who appreciates the art of pink as much as I do!”

Y/n laughed, relieved by Penelope’s enthusiasm and excited to have her brand new top appreciated. “Thank you! I knew I’d find a kindred spirit.”

Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, the team’s communications liaison, offered a warm handshake. “Aaron’s told us a lot about you. It’s nice to finally meet the woman who kept him sane during those early days.”

“Glad to be here,” Y/n replied, feeling welcomed.

Emily Prentiss, with her confident and approachable demeanor, chimed in. “So, you survived being a Hotchner family member? You deserve a medal.”

Y/n grinned, appreciating the camaraderie. “It wasn’t so bad. I’m just glad I didn’t have to deal with any of Aaron’s work stress.”

Derek Morgan, the charming and confident agent, leaned back with a smirk. “If you ever want to switch from psychology to profiling, we could use someone with your skills.”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. “I’ll leave the profiling to you guys. I’m happy helping kids find their way.”

David Rossi, the seasoned agent with a love for fine wine and stories, raised his glass in a toast. “To new friends and old family.”

Y/n joined in the toast, feeling a sense of belonging with this eclectic group. As the night wore on, she found herself bonding with each team member, sharing stories and laughter. They talked about everything from childhood dreams to favorite music, forming connections that would last beyond this night.

As the evening wound down, Derek leaned over with a grin. “You’ll have to meet our boy wonder next time. Spencer’s a little shy, but I have a feeling you two would get along.”

Y/n nodded, intrigued by the prospect of another lively team member to add to her seemingly growing list of friends. “I’d like that. I’ve heard a lot about him.”

Emily chimed in, a playful glint in her eyes. “Spencer’s one of a kind. You’ll see what we mean.”

[seungsuki]

groceries - sunday restock with your boyfriend (f!reader)

warning: none

note: i manage to sneak in bachira hehe.. wonder why?

sundays are nagi seishiro’s favourite day. just relaxing and being lazy was something the 190 cm striker loved. top that off, you would baby him and take care of him so he would be well rested for the brutal training monday would force on him

but today wasn’t his favourite sunday 

seishiro spent his day trailing behind you like a lost duckling. it was a nice afternoon and you thought today was the perfect day to restock on groceries. that’s how you both ended up in the bustling supermarket near your place. you pushed the trolley along the isles while nagi in his true nature, clung onto you like his life depended on it. 

his head rested on your shoulder as his arms wrapped securely around your waist forming a somewhat comfortable back hug. you swore seishiro purposely made sure his warm breaths were extra slow to annoy you but you weren’t gonna let him win. you had to restock groceries today or else both of you would be too busy to find any day. 

“do we really need to waste time buying food?”, seishiro spoke as the both of you navigated through the shelves of cereal 

“yes we do- oh found it!”, you smiled as you retreated something you searched far and wide 

“a cereal box..? that was something you wasted so much time on?”, seishiro asked confused

“it’s not just a cereal! it’s a collab with txt!!”, you groaned remembering how terrible seishiro is with names 

“nevermind we’re almost done and then we’ll go home you big baby”

you chuckled when you heard a small ‘yay’ from the laid-back koala you called your boyfriend. he even gave you a small kiss on the neck to celebrate his so-called victory. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a small affectionately sigh. you placed the cereal into the cart and strolled away. moving from aisles you’d either have seishiro acting like a cringe teen making fun of the brand names or seishiro mumbling in your ear about how terrible his team was to him (they don’t let him sleep during breaks). 

while you love nagi seishiro with all of your heart, it was these moments that made you want to question just how much of a hassle life was for him. you wonder sometimes.. if you had never asked him out, would he still be alive? yeah he had reo and all but you can’t help but wonder if seishiro had some sort of issues in the past 

you shook your head trying to forget the negative thoughts clouding your head. this was a topic you’d definitely bring up for another day. 

“angel, can we get ice cream too?”, seishiro suddenly added as he watched you pick up the nuggets packet 

“ice cream? yeah sure sure.. anything you want sei”, 

after checking everything in your cart, both of you lined up to pay for your groceries. you recalled a story to seishiro about your university friends trying to force you into acting. your friend dramatically added about how the theatre club was in danger, forcing you to skip your volleyball club practice.

seishiro hums to your story, even though he looks like he doesn’t care, you best believe that he loves gossip. he picked this from reo, another guy who was always hungry for gossip, even if he doesn’t know that person at all. finally, after what seems like eternity, it was your turn 

“good afternoon! hope you guys fin- nagi? no way! whatcha doing here?”, the yellow highlights haired cashier asked 

“bachira.. why are you a cashier?”, seishiro asked puzzled as he frees himself from you 

“oh i picked up a part time job to help my mama. who’s she? hey it’s nice to meet you! i’m bachira!”, bachira introduced himself as he started to scan the products

“i’m [name]... you’re seishiro’s friend?”, you asked, receiving an enthusiastic nod from bachira 

“i didn’t know you had friends other than reo”, you asked again but to the snowy bangs boy 

“i’m trying”, seishrio replied with a shrug 

bachira chatted away with you while preparing your bill. he even added his ‘bff discount’ for the both of you which made you laugh at his antics. waving him goodbye, seishiro and you left the store. it made you feel happy, knowing that sei made friends at blue lock.

it’s not like you hated reo or anything. if anything, you were thankful at how he was always with your lazy genius but you wanted seishiro to branch out. hearing from bachria about his new friends gave you a sense of relief that he had other people to count on 

“you look funny”, sei spoke trying to read your mind 

“i’m just happy”, you said adding a small smile 

“what is there to be happy about? i’m so sad i had to leave my warm bed for this”, seishiro groaned 

“i’m happy you have so many friends. you have so many people who care about you!”, you countered 

“i should be careful! they might steal you from me”, you jokingly added, nudging the soccer player 

“what’s there to worry about? you’re prettier than them”, sei bluntly said making you go red 

“h-hey! don’t just go around saying that!”, you nervously laughed away the butterflies that erupted 

“i'd rather be with my pretty girl than sit with those idiots. it’s a hassle”, sei sighed nearly dropping the bag he was holding 

“...”

“...”

“let’s just go home and i’ll give you some ice cream with extra sprinkles” 

© seungsuki 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator

[rimunagenius]

Bear.

ʚ paring: Kate Martin x reader

ʚ word count: 877

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , otherwise none.

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: here’s the first one shot to the series ‘And They Were Roommates’. thought i should post this while part 4 of the series is being written…This is how Kate got her nickname ‘bear’. Hope you like it!!

One Shot

| Series Masterlist |

The sound of your keys jingling, as you tried and failed to stifle any extra unnecessary sounds due to your pounding headache, made the pain ten times worse. The soft clicking of the lock even made you feel pain all the way in your ears.

You had test after test, shift after shift, and you just couldn’t wait to get home. The migraine coming on the second your second test today had started. You had fought tears all day long, your eyes burning from the resistance.

Finals week was no joke for a working college student. You had to study in between breaks and shifts at your different jobs. During any off time while the woman’s basketball team was practicing.

Finally kicking your shoes off in the middle of the living room, reminding yourself to pick them up after when ever you decide to get up so Kate won’t have to.

You don’t know how long you’d been there, lying on your couch. The relentless pain after you took the max limit of painkillers, and your migraine still wouldn’t go away. Fighting and resisting the urge to cry it out all day, in fear of being judged and the pain multiplying, you couldn’t take it. You just cried.

You were laying on your back, staring at the one spot on the ceiling you and Kate seemed to stare at whenever you were struggling while on the couch, and just cried.

You couldn’t even stop when Kate had walked through the door. “Hey, I was thinking I could make spaghetti for dinner tonight, something eas—you okay?” The concerned look on her face you couldn’t see as your vision was blurred through the actively falling tears.

At this point, you hadn’t realized you were still crying. Your head pounding so hard you couldn’t even feel them anymore. “Hey, sunshine? Are you okay?” Kate approached slowly, crouching down next to you. She moved hair out of your face, you instantly leaning into her touch.

“My head hurts…so fucking bad. I can’t…make it stop.” You talked quietly, in fear of hearing your own voice will make the pain worse.

Kate wiped the tears that were still falling, knowing how tough this week had been on you. That’s why she kicked off her shoes, removed her phone and keys from her pocket, placing them gently down on the coffee table behind her, and pushed the upper half of your body off the couch so she could slide in ride under you.

She gave you time to turn your body around, so you were laying flat on her chest, resting on your stomach. She rubbed her hands up and down your back, pushing your hair behind your ears, occasionally wiping more tears that fell down your face.

“You’ll be okay. I’m here.” She cooed as you just continued to lay there. “I’m sorry you had a rough day.” It was her turn to stare at the spot on the ceiling while you two just layed there, her providing whatever comfort she could.

“Spaghetti sounds nice.” You whispered, blinking so you could atleast see out of your eyes. “I’m starving.”

“That’s probably why your head hurts, sunshine. When’s the last time you ate anything?” You now realized that skipping dinner last night and opting to not eat anything all day today, mixed with your lack of water intake over the last two days, and little to no sleep because of studying, was a horrible idea. You were just so busy and stressed you said you’d get to it and you didn’t.

“I don’t remember.” You whispered back, resting your chin on her chest, so you could look at her. Her eyes softened and she rubbed your back.

“Alright, i’ll make dinner when your ready, sound good?” You nodded softly, giving her a grateful small smile.

“Thank you, Kate. You’re the best friend on this god forsaken planet.” You wrapped your arms around her, atleast what you could since you were on top of her on the couch.

“Your welcome. I’ll always be here.” She hugged you back, her arms firm yet so comforting. She was warm, soft, and so gentle. A stark contrast from what she looked like when she was playing basketball. Who knew the tough and rough Kate Martin could be such a sweetheart.

“Your oddly soft. Who would’ve thought?” You hummed softly, a sudden wave of drowsiness hitting you like a truck.

“What?” The blonde chuckled, adjusting her arms on your body.

“I said, your soft…and cuddly. Almost like a teddy bear. Makes me feel safe, and warm. And sleepy.” You mumbled, half yawning while your voice started to grow quieter; sleep slowly making you succumb to it.

“Thank you?” Kate didn’t know what to say, all she knew is it was the nicest compliment she’s ever gotten. You liked her hugs and she made you feel safe.

“My own personal teddy bear.”

“Okay, get some rest, sunshine. You need it. I love you.” Kate stroked your head while you snuggled in closer.

“I love you, bear.”

You both stayed right there. Eventually taking a nap. It called for a late dinner, but neither of you cared. Just too comfortable and safe to care.

[squoxle]

✏ TNAIT 001: If You Can't Beat 'Em, Join 'Em l.at fanfic

✰ pairing: nerdy!bandboy!anton x cheerleader!fem!reader | ✰ wc: 2.1k | ✰ cw: profanity, sexual themes |✰ plot: after receiving your midterm report, your parents threaten to pull you off the cheer squad if you don't pull your grades up. so, you take the advice of your best friend to seek help. [Series Masterlist]

“If I don’t see those grades going up soon, you’re done with cheerleading,” your dad spat at the dinner table.

“But my team needs me,” you whined. “I can’t leave in the middle of cheer season.”

“Do I look like I care about any of that?” He sneered. “This is an all-A’s family. And your grades are embarrassing,” he continued as he pulled out your midterm report. “Not a single A. And the worst part is that you’re failing math.”

“But that professor is a complete jerk.”

“I hardly ever see you studying. You go to class, come home, play your phone, and goof off with your friends. This university is very expensive and I will not continue funding your education if you’re gonna perform like this. School is about more than cheer.”

“But—”

“No buts. I don’t want to hear another word. Fix it or you’re done,” he said cutting into his steak.

“Listen to your father, honey. It’s very important that you maintain a good academic standing so you can get into a nice law school. Both your father and I graduated with a very high GPA—”

“3.75 and higher,” your father budded in.

“Exactly, so if you need a tutor—”

“I’m not stupid. I can do it by myself,” you mumbled. Even though you desperately wanted the help you knew this was a trap. Your father would not be happy if you were willing to give up that quickly.

“Ok,” your mother nodded. “But remember if you need the help it’s available for you.”

Being honest with yourself, you didn't want to go to law school and be a lawyer anyways. But you knew that your parents weren't going to let you graduate with a career as a cheerleader. They wanted you to have a real profession and since you couldn't pick fast enough, your father chose for you.

A job that was perfect for a sophisticated young woman and possibly a way for you to meet a good husband, or at least that's what your parents were telling you.

You finished dinner and went to bed. But not without logging onto your computer and checking your grades for each course.

• Politics — 79.47% • English — 82.97% • Math — 68.12% • Geography — 75.83%

"There's no way in hell I'm gonna be able to bring these grades up in time," you groaned as you closed your laptop and collapsed into your pillow.

"Is it just me or do you feel like cheerleaders are basically strippers in training," Chanyoung said as he opened his locker.

"Nah, they definitely are. Just think about it. They flip around and shake their asses in skirts so short that a small breeze will be enough to expose everything underneath," Dongmin replied as he leaned against the locker beside Chanyoung. "I'm not complaining, I'm just saying," he mumbled.

"No, you're right. And from what I can see is that the majority of them are brainless bimbos who've most likely sucked their way through school," Chanyoung said pulling out a few tablets to shove into his backpack.

"I bet you'd love to have some brainless bimbo suck you off," Dongmin chuckled. "You can't even lie and say that you wouldn't take the chance if it was given to you."

"I mean..."

"Exactly. I'm not calling you a hypocrite or anything, I just want you to be real with yourself," Dongmin said as Chanyoung zipped up his backpack, lugging it on his back. "Hell, I wouldn't even pass up an offer like that," he added, slightly bumping Chanyoung's shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess," Chanyoung shrugged.

"Anyways, I gotta go. I'll catch ya later tonight at the game, alright? Our usual spot," Dongmin nodded before walking off, leaving Chanyoung behind.

"Alright, see ya," he waved gently before walking down the hall.

Chanyoung wasn't entirely wrong, you knew a couple girls on the squad who did a few "extra credit assignments." After hearing about your situation one of the girls even offered to hook you up with the guy that helped her.

"Honestly, it sounds worse than it really is," Abigail said, her blonde hair falling in her face as she tied her shoelaces. "Having some pervy nerd pull up your grades is easy. Trust me, my grades were even worse than yours. And now I have a 3.5 GPA and nothing lower than a B on my transcript," she smiled before standing up to walk over to the mirror, adjusting her uniform.

"Yeah, but wouldn't it be weird if we use the same guy?" You asked.

"Hmm, I mean...I don't think so. Xoey and I had a threesome with him and he loved it. We also got a perfect 100 on our group presentation without editing a single slide," she beamed.

You bit your lower lip, considering the tempting option that had been placed before you.

"Look, if you don't want to get help from Jake, then you can find your own unsuspecting nerd who's willing to help you out in exchange for some action," she smirked, clipping a bow in her hair.

"Guys! What the hell are you still doing in here?" your brown-skinned cheermate, Nova, spat while waving her pom-poms around as she spoke. "You need to get on the field right now! Coach is already pissed," she said, her curly hair bouncing as she jogged away.

"Coming!" Abigail shouted. "We'll talk about this after the game okay," she said, shaking your shoulder before the two of you ran out together.

You met the sharp green eyes of Coach Sam, who looked about as pissed off as you expected her to be. "If you hadn't noticed by the raging crowd behind these doors, we have a big game tonight ladies! Remember your timing! Watch your step! And please, for the love of god, don't fuck this up!" she shouted before placing her black cap on, covering her shaggy dark brown hair.

She blew the whistle, signaling you all to do your signature walk out onto the field to open the game. You just tried your best to focus as you did the first cheer of the game. After you finished, you and the rest of your squad sat down on the benches.

"Abigail. ____," Coach Sam said tapping your shoulders.

"Yes, Coach?"

"If either of you pull some shit like that again you'll be running laps from sun-up to sun-down. Understand?"

"Yes, Coach," you answered in unison.

This game was important for three reasons.

1. If your university won, that meant you were going out of state for the next game.

2. There were cheer scouters watching tonight and the possibility of being picked increased with your performance.

3. This could be one of your last games if you can't figure out what to do about your grades.

"There's no A in cheer," your father's words echoed in your head.

"But there is in cheat," you thought to yourself.

As much as you didn't want to, you took Abigail's advice and scoped the bleachers for the perfect target. Dorky, lonely, and horny...but most importantly, smart.

Chanyoung and Dongmin sat at the very top row of the second tier, in the seats farthest to the left. You set your eyes on the dark-haired boy and his friend.

Curious to know who they were, you whispered to your cheermate Janice, asking if she recognized him. She knew almost everybody, especially since her dad was the dean of the university.

So it was no surprise that she was also head cheerleader and you were sure she had already secured a spot on a professional football team after college. That’s just how her family operated. Paying their way through life.

“Oh, that’s Lee Chanyoung and Han Dongmin, they're both a part of the university's orchestra. You'll usually see them hanging out together. Literally, like all the time."

Introducing New Target: Lee Chanyoung. Age 20. Perfectly talented brainbot. Not only was he in a highly desired honors society, but he was also a part of the college's orchestra.

You nearly smacked yourself in the face as you thought back to the first week of uni and how you were forced to attend the opening recital with your parents. "Classical music is a good way to lighten your mood and increase productivity,” your father said as you sat sandwiched between him and your mother.

Sometimes you hated the amount of pressure your parents put on you to be perfect. Unrealistic expectations that they couldn’t even meet themselves…at least not without pulling their hair out.

You were trying to find a balance between school and life. Yes, school could prove to be very beneficial for you in the future and a great investment, but you didn’t want to let life pass you by while you had your nose shoved 16 chapters deep in a textbook.

After Janice finished reciting what sounded like their admissions speech, you waited until the game was over to put your plan into action.

You texted Abigail to let her know that you’d be looking for a study partner tonight so she wouldn’t worry about where you were. But she told you to make it quick. She promised to wait around to take you home that way you had an alibi for staying out late.

The stands were clearing out as the game came to an end and you ran across the field to catch up with Chanyoung and Dongmin, throwing your bag over your shoulder.

"Hey!" you called out, hoping they'd hear you.

If they did...great, you could move on to step two, but if they didn't you would die of embarrassment.

"Uhh, are you talking to us?" Dongmin asked, turning around and tilting his head as Chanyoung paused beside him.

"Yeah," you said shyly.

"Oh my god. I can't believe I'm actually crumbling right now," you thought to yourself.

"Umm...well I know we don't really know each other, but I need some help," you tried your best to be confident, but you couldn't shake the fact that this felt like downright prostitution. "It'll just be for a couple of weeks to help me pull up my grades."

"Uhh--"

"I'll pay you for it," you spat. Maybe there was a way to get some assistance without having to degrade yourself--no shame to Abby. She did what she thought was right.

"Well, as much as I'd love to help you, I'm already swamped," Dongmin shrugged before a mischievous smirk crept across his face. "But my buddy Chanyoung is more than available."

"I am?" Chanyoung said, eyes widening in shock. That was the first time you heard his quiet voice since you came over.

"Of course you are," he winked, patting his friend on the shoulder. "He's been telling me all about how easy this semester has been on him and that he has way too much free time and nothing to do with it."

"Really?!" you asked, surprised everything was going so smoothly. Maybe you would be able to pick up your grades without having to lose your dignity after all.

"Oh yeah. Trust me," Dongmin smiled. "He can help you out with your little...issue."

Okay...this Dongmin guy was acting a little suspicious, but you needed all the help you could get. Beggars can't be choosers, right?

"Okay," you said pulling your phone out of the side pocket of your bag. "Let me just give you both my number so that we can keep in touch. I really appreciate your help," you unlocked your phone before opening your contacts.

Dongmin put in both of their numbers while Chanyoung stood beside him not saying a word. "There ya go," Dongmin smiled handing you back your phone.

"Thank you so much," you smiled. "Can I meet up with you tomorrow?"

"T-tomorrow?" Chanyoung stuttered.

"Umm yeah. I want to get started as soon as possible...if that's okay."

"Oh, yeah of course. That's fine. He'll meet you tomorrow in the library," Dongmin reassured you, wrapping his arm around his friend.

“That’s great,” you smiled. “Will you be there too?”

“Me? Oh no, like I said before, this is all my buddy Channie. He’s got nothing better to do than help a friend…well a new friend,” something about the cheesy grin plastered across his face was unsettling, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

“Okay that’s fine. Just text me what times you’re available tomorrow and I’ll meet you then,” you smiled.

“____! Girl come on let’s go!” Abby shouted from across the field. You saw her from a distance, checking her pretend watch, taping her foot.

“Sorry guys, I gotta go now. See ya,” you waved before joining Abby.

You hopped into her bright yellow convertible, leaving the boys behind on the field.

Everything was looking great for you. You had a study date planned with a total book nerd. Hopefully, he will be a little less shy tomorrow, otherwise, you didn’t expect to make much progress.

Thanks for reading the first episode of my series. [Series Masterlist]

Click this link to go to my main masterlist and stay tuned for the next episodes.

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[megxplryxb]

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader Minors DNI 18+ Warnings: Flirting, Mentions of smut but no actual smut

Summary: Your best friend Robin wants you to come work at Scoops Ahoy with her but when she realises you’re totally hot for her cute coworker, she quickly changes her mind about the whole thing.

“So, have you thought any more about applying for the position here?” Robin asks excitedly, handing you your plain vanilla ice cream with sprinkles as you sit on the counter to keep her company during the final hour before closing.

She’d been trying to get you to quit your job at the arcade ever since Scoops Ahoy put an advert in the local paper looking for another member to add to the team.

“As fun as I’m sure it would be to work with my best friend, I don’t think I can.” You frown as her brows knit together.

“What, why not? We’d have such a blast!” She says, trying her best to convince you.

“I know we would Rob, but I just don’t think it’d be the best idea.” You shrug, licking your ice cream, moving your eyes from your friend to her extremely cute coworker who was sitting at a table, conversing with a group of kids.

She scanned your face for a moment wondering what it was that would stop you from wanting to work with her but then she noticed you biting the corner of your lip and the small blush that was slowly creeping onto your cheeks.

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me. Dingus? You like DINGUS?” She shouts loudly as you shush her, placing a hand over her mouth as Steve and the kids look up to see what all the commotion was about.

“Jeez Robs, say it louder why don’t you?” You giggle as she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, I just… it’s Steve you know? I mean, does the sailor outfit really do it for you?” She winces, not really wanting to know your answer but you reply anyway.

“It’s not necessarily the uniform per se, it’s what’s underneath the uniform that I’m interested in. But now that you mention it, his ass does look pretty good in those shorts.” You smirk, taking another lick of vanilla.

“Please stop.” She gags as you let your head fall back, laughing again.

“What are you two ladies talking about?” Steve questions, brows raised suspiciously as he walks toward the counter again, taking extra note of the bold grin spread across your face.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing!” Robin quickly answers, shooting you a warning glare.

Steve tries to ask you what was going on, seeing the way his friend was looking at you but his thoughts get lost as he watches your tongue swirl around the melting ice cream. He swallows hard, eyes dropping to your low cut T-shirt when he sees a drop of ice cream running down your cleavage.

“Um, you got a little...” He points, his Adams apple bobbing as your finger catches the droplet before it disappeared between your pushed up breasts.

“Oh, thanks Steve.” You smile sweetly before placing the tip of your finger between your lips to suck it clean, hypnotising the boy standing in front of you. Instantly, he’d removed his Scoops Ahoy hat, placing it over the front of his shorts, hoping neither of you noticed the slight predicament he was about to be in.

“Uh, ye-yeah, sure, no problem.” He breathes, walking into the back room as Robin rolls her eyes at you both.

“Fifty bucks says he’s gone to jerk off in the bathroom after that little display.” Robin scrunches her nose as you turn to look at her.

“Maybe I should go help him out?” You suggest, waiting for her reaction.

“Please tell me you’re kidding?” She says, placing her head on the counter.”

“Of course I am.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you finish off your ice cream. “Honestly though, I’d never get anything done working with him. He’s so fucking hot.” You gush as Robin covers her ears.

“I’m not listening! Lalalalalala.”

“You’re such a child!” You giggle, playfully nudging her.

“Oh I’m sorry that I don’t want to listen to my best friend talk about fucking Steve Harrington’s brains out!” Robin exclaims, shaking her head again.

“So what? You talk about wanting to mess around with Tammy Thompson all the time!” You argued quietly knowing Robin hadn’t told anyone but you that she was into girls.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to work with Tammy!” She fought back but before you could respond, Steve was back behind the counter again.

“Hey Rob, don’t you have to return that sweater to the Gap store for your Mom?” You asked, smiling deviously at her.

“Oh yeah, I do. I’ll do it when we’re leaving.” She replied, glaring at you.

“But it’s Friday Rob, they close thirty minutes earlier than us.” Steve chimed in.

“Shit, yeah I totally forgot that. You wanna come with me?” Robin asked, eyes widening as you shook your head.

“No it’s ok, I’ll just keep Steve company.” You grinned, licking your lips at the boy as she gritted her teeth at you.

“I think he’ll be ok by himself for a couple of minutes, right ding—“

“So, you thinking of applying for the job here?” Steve asks, rubbing the back of his neck as Robin sighs heavily, grabbing the sweater and walking away unbeknownst to either of you, muttering at you both to use protection as she left the store.

“Oh, I don’t think so. I mean, I know Robin really wants me to but I’m just not so sure.” You reply as he moves from behind the counter to walk closer towards you.

“That’s too bad, I think you would have been a great fit here.” He smiles as you tilt your head.

“Oh really? Why’s that?” You ask as he licks his lips before speaking.

“Well, I mean you’ve already got an advantage being friends with the two best ice cream slingers in Indiana for one, so training will be a total breeze. Plus, you’ve already got a shit load of experience with hyperactive children working at the arcade and well, something tells me you’d look pretty cute in the uniform too.” Steve flirts as you playfully nudge him.

“I don’t think I’d pull it off as good as you do, Steve.” You reply as he lets out a small laugh.

“Yeah, my ass does look pretty good in these shorts, right?” He challenges as your eyes widen, trying to hold back a smile.

“You totally heard.”

“I totally did.” He grins, moving closer again as you shrug your shoulders. “Well, I stand by my observation, you do have a great ass.”

“Thanks, honey.” He says, gazing at you with a look that sends a lightening bolt straight to your core. “So, there’s no way I could convince you to join the team, huh?”

“What’d you have in mind, Harrington?” You ask as he steps in between your legs, closing the space between you.

“Well sweetheart, I’m a pro at oral persuasion. I’m pretty sure I could get you to come aboard.” He whispers, hovering over your lips and you desperately want him to kiss you.

“Are you freaking kidding me? I leave you alone for ten minutes and you’re practically screwing on the counter!” Robin yells as you quickly pull away from each other.

“Jesus Robin, we were not screwing!” Steve defends as she shoots you both a look of distain.

“You would have been if I hadn’t walked in on you. Shame on you, this is a family friendly business!” She teases as you roll your eyes. “Relax Buckley, the place is empty.”

“Well I’m not losing my job because dingus can’t keep his dick in his pants around pretty girls! In fact, we’re leaving right now because you two can’t be trusted with each other!”

“Hey, wait a minute, we haven’t even cleaned up yet Robin!” Steve argues as his colleague brushes past him and into the back room to grab her stuff.

“You should have thought about that before you tried to get into my friend’s pants. Later dingus!” She waves, grabbing your hand as you wink at Steve, blowing him a teasing kiss.

“Shit.” He sighs, putting a hand through his hair as he walked behind the counter again. It was only then that he noticed the small sticky note with your name and number on it, a little love heart drawn after the message: Call me x

Steve smiled at the note, placing it in his pocket for safe keeping as he made his way into the back room. He walked over to Robin’s data board, finally drawing a line under the You Rule section before heading back out to quickly clean and close up, because he couldn’t wait to call you when he got home.

[plussizefantasia]

Orange Slices

Flufftober Day 19: Sweaters

Aaron Hotchner x Plus Size! reader

Word Count: 1.0k

AN: I know that I always write with bigger bodies in mind, but this one does mention sharing clothes and some body image stuff. If that bothers you, please protect yourself and don't read. It's still really fluffy but I just want to give a heads up.

Anyway, I love a cute little hotchner family moment and this was really fun to write. I'll see y'all tomorrow <3

divider credit @royallaesthetics

Aaron always took care of the people he loved, it was something he was incredibly good at and something you loved to witness. He took care of you, his team, Jack, and Jessica, and he had tried his best to take care of Haley until the two of them split.

One way he cared for Jack was by coaching his soccer team. He spent extra time with his son, running drills in your backyard. And Saturday mornings were pledged to soccer games. 

The best way that you could put the weather this Saturday morning was brisk. When you had gotten to the fields Jack had run away immediately after getting out of the car to go join the rest of his team. Aaron had helped you unload the cooler with halftime snacks and drinks, your folding chair, and the bag that Aaron brought when he coached full of cones and two or three extra pairs of socks and shin-pads for kids who might’ve forgotten them.

“It’s a little chilly this morning dontcha think Aaron?” You had asked, walking side by side with him, both of your arms full.

“Too cold? I can run back to the house real quick and grab you a jacket.”

“No, no. I’ll be fine it’s not that bad.”

“You sure hon?” You smiled at his concern.

“Yes, Aaron I’m sure I’ll be okay.”

You were not okay. Well at first you were, the first quarter went by kind of fast and Jack had scored a goal right off the bat so you were pretty pumped. But as time went on and things became a little less exciting you started noticing the crisp air biting at your skin more and more. It wasn’t enough for you to complain, but you did start rubbing your hands up and down your arms while you sat to try and generate some friction heat.

Aaron noticed because of course he did, it’s his job to notice and while he might not get paid to notice things about you, you’re one of the most important things in his life and he likes to keep tabs on you.

So when he sees your leg start bouncing and you beginning to blow into your hands to try and warm them up he makes his way over to you. He lets the other coach know that he’ll be right back and shouts some parting encouragement at the kids while he walks away.

“Cold?” He asks, but it’s not a question. He knows you’re cold. He knows everything about you, like how the pout you’re giving him means that you’re going to say no but you don’t mean it, you just don’t like being wrong.

“I’m fine Aaron, don’t you have a team to coach?” He notes the attempt at deflection but also notes the little puff of air that he sees coming out of your mouth when your hot breath meets the cool air.

“Take my jacket.” He starts unzipping the three-quarter zip that he bought just so that you can share. Aaron’s jackets usually don’t have a problem fitting you in the shoulder area or length but you had hated the way his coat had clung to your stomach the first time he offered it to you.

And he noticed because he always does. So the next day he went to the store and bought himself this sweater, it was a little too big for him. Not baggy enough to be noticeable, but he did have to push the sleeves up when he wore it because the cuffs on the end didn’t hold onto his wrists.

But the extra room in the sweater meant that it was perfect for you, you could share it and in moments like these, that was kind of a lifesaver.

Aaron shucked his sweater off leaving him in just a plain grey long-sleeve shirt and his black sweatpants.

“No Aaron you're gonna get cold.”

“But you already are.” Was his reply. Not even moments later did a small body crash into yours.

“Did you see that goal I scored!?” Jack’s exclamation and excitement put an end to whatever potential back and forth was about to commence and you slowly pulled the sweater over your head while Jack gave you a play-by-play of the game you had just been watching. 

“You’re doing good Kiddo, you’ve got one more half think you can do it?” You asked offering him a small red Gatorade from your cooler and an orange.

‘Course’ I can, m’ not even tired.” 

“Okay Jack, go kick butt.” He gave you one more hug and took a final swig of his drink before tossing the still-half-full bottle at you and running back out to the field. 

Aaron turned to you, “Keep the sweater hon, I’ll be fine. Promise.” He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead and went to go give the team the halftime pep talk that got them hyped for the last thirty-ish minutes of the game.

You had to admit though, that watching the second half of the game was a lot more enjoyable than previously, where you were more focused on not losing any fingers than what was going on. 

Jack played a great second half, scoring two more goals and winning it for his team. And Aaron looked great standing on the sideline, anytime you got to watch your kid have fun and check out your husband at the same time was a win in your book.

When the game ended and Jack helped you and Aaron pack up everything you’d brought, minus a few oranges, you’d all clambered into the minivan and Aaron pulled out of the parking lot. But he had gone the opposite way to your house.

“Where are we going, Dad?” Jack had asked from the back seat.

“To go get another sweater, just to keep in the car.” You had hit his arm at that and started sulking in the passenger seat. Aaron had just cracked a grin and chuckled a little at your reaction and Jack had just called out, “Can we get a hot chocolate too? I’m a little chilly.” 

At that, both you and Aaron burst out laughing.

[xmalereader]

John Price X Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

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Authors Note: I apologize for the delay on updates. I got sick during my first week back and had a cough and fever for a few days, I’m all better now and good to start updating! Here is my first John Price shot because he does things to me. ( Simon is still my number #1 )

Summary: A new recruit joins the team who remains anonymous and joins unexpectedly. Laswell is keeping them a secret until their own mission is over, little did price know that this new agent is someone he’s very close too.

Warnings: Angst, violence, gore, blood, mentions of code name, sign language, mature language, military life, assassin, soap is slow, task 141 is cautious, selective mutism.

Word count: 3.4K

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John had received news from Laswell that a new recruit was going to be joining there team. He was more than happy to have the extra help on missions but he wasn’t happy knowing that this new recruit was completed classified. Laswell didn’t give him a file and simple provided a name.

Code name; Zero.

Laswell had told John that she trusted the man with missions and was very useful. He was skilled in keeping heavy cover and was known to hide in the shadows. She would say that he was a deadly man who gets the job done without a doubt. That didn’t put John at ease, still not trusting the new recruit that he has yet to meet.

“Zero is a man that I trust and will fit in your team.”

“You want us to trust a rookie with only a simple name?” Ghost calls out.

Task 141 and Laswell were all standing in a briefing room together while she announced the new recruit to the rest of the team. “Ghost is right, who’s to say that he won’t betray us? Remember what Graves did.” Soap reminds her with a glare, clearly not happy with the news.

“I understand the caution and wanting trust from this new recruit but you best believe me that Zero is the one we need for this mission.” She began to explain to the team. “Zero had taken mission that he can complete in less than a few days, get inside information without getting caught. He can help you with getting intel on Makorov.”

“It’s too risky, Laswell.” John finally cuts in, stopping her from taking further. He couldn’t accept someone he didn’t trust not after what happened with Graves and Shepard and their betrayal. “I won’t allow it.”

Laswell frowns, standing straight with her arms crossed over her chest, tilting her head to the side and says. “He knows that Yuri is smuggling dangerous weapons across Russia as we speak.” She knew that the team was struggling to get a location on Yuri. Makorov’s second in command and close friend, the two helping each other in their terrorist schemes which had to be stopped. The new information gets the teams attention as they all looked at her in disbelief.

“He knows where Yuri is?” John asked.

“Like I said, deep cover.” Laswell steps forward, challenging price as the two stare each other down. “Give him a chance and you won’t regret it.” A hint of defeat is shown in his eyes as Laswell slowly smirked at her victory, leaning back to give off a small chuckle before announcing. “He’ll meet you during your next mission, don’t be late.” With that she turns around and leaves the room, tension suddenly gone once she’s out of the room. It wasn’t until Gaz speaks up. “I guess we have a new rookie.”

—

The team had geared up and loaded on the helicopter, riding out to Teba, Spain. They were dropped off in a base near the area, collecting there things and driving out to town where they are to meet up with Zero and track down their target in order to get more information on Makarov and his plans. The whole ride there, John can’t help but think about the new recruit. Laswell had provided him there comms, letting him know last minute that Zero was selectively mute and wouldn’t speak to anyone. He communicate through Morse code which connected to the rest of the team.

Everyone else in the team was questioning this rookie, wondering if they were easy to trust or perhaps it was all part of a plan to get them killed. They were entering dangerous territory and had to play it well or else things can get complicated. Before they could arrive to town, johns comms goes off, causing the older man to freeze as he listens to the rapid taps.

“Captain Price, this is Agent Zero, over.”

John sighs to himself, sitting back in his seat as he pulls his comm close and responds back. “This is captain price, we are to arrive to our destined location in five.”

The response he gets back is a fast one, not giving him time to cut the comms as he listens. The rest of the team was also listening to the response back.

“Negative, sir. Location is not safe, reroute to his address.”

Johns phone goes off, showing him a new address to drive too. The captain frowns at the sudden change, but knows that he can’t question the man after the bickering he went through with Laswell. “Copy, rerouting.” He passed the location to Soap who was driving the vehicle, taking the new coordinates and changing their route down a different road. “This rookie better know what he’s doing.” Muttered Gaz, getting the captains attention. “We have no choice but to trust him. But, I also hope he knows what he’s doing.”

The drive took longer than planned now that the location was changed then didn’t arrive until night fall. They drive further away from town and into the woods where a rather large house stood out but also remained very well hidden. They all step out of the van and gather there things. Soap looks up to the house and chuckles. “This place is huge! Are you sure this is the right place?”

“You drove us here.” Ghost narrows his eyes at soap.

“Coordinates show that this is the place.” John speaks up, giving his team a glance before nodding. “Alright, let’s head inside.” The safe house was bigger than expected but it was also dark with no lights turned on or guards standing around the place, blending in with the night and remaining hidden from visitors. When approaching the entrance, it’s ghost who takes notice of the pressure plank located at the front. “Place is rigged with traps.” He turns to the others while they look around for another way inside, not finding any open windows or extra doors.

“There’s a shed to your right.”

Johns comms go off.

“Inside there is a hidden tunnel, it’ll lead you to the basement and inside the house.”

John looks around and his eyes land on the shed, approaching the old thing and pulling the door open to things that belonged inside the shed, it wasn’t until he moved a few boxes that he find an additional trap door that guided him through the tunnels. “Over here.” He calls to the rest and followed him through the dark tunnels. Gaz is the last to step inside and makes sure to close up the doors as he follows his captain.

“We need light.”

“Use a few flares.”

Soap pulls a flare from his pack and turns it on, holding it over his head up front as it lights up the dark tunnel. They follow the trail that leads them towards the house and into the basement first before making it to the first floor. “Keep your guard up, who knows what awaits us.” John warns his men as they enter the house with the lights out it becomes difficult for them to see, not wearing any night vision goggles to make thing easier for them.

“You made it.”

The lights were switched on them as they all turns towards the source of tapping shoes, guns up and aiming towards a singular man who stood a few feet away from them. He was dressed in all black, wearing a mask to cover his entire face like ghost and wearing black goggles that covered his eyes. He’s quick to put his hands up showing them that he meant no harm and carried no weapon with him.

“You zero?” John asks, still holding his own gun up as the man in front of him nods. He slowly reached over to his comm and gives off a few taps.

“Yes, I am unarmed.”

That’s good enough to have the team lower there guns. “Zero, I’m Captain price. This here is my team.” He said while approaching him. “This is Soap, Gaz, and Ghost.” He points to each one while Zero gives off a nod in greeting at the other three, raising his hands, hesitance at first as he signs. “Anyone know sign language?” He questions.

It’s ghost who speaks next. “I know the language.” He hums out, getting Zeros attention who smiled proudly under his own mask and jumps on his toes. “Thought I’d have to write stuff out for everyone to understand, but this works!” Zero is enthusiastic in his signing before waving them over to the main room where there a few boxes full of Ammon and additional guns in case they are needed. A table stood in the middle of the room with all the plans written down along with sticky notes of various locations and names.

“Here is the information that I was able to get from Yuri.” Signed Zero while Ghost translated for the team, rounding the table to stand on the other side while the team looked at his work. “How the hell did you get this much information?” Gaz asks, looking at the coordinates located on the map.

“I was under deep cover with Yuri and his men.” Zero placed his hands on his hips while John chuckles. “Laswell said that your good at getting information, did you choke this out of Yuri?”

Zero shakes his head. “I befriend Yuri a month into my cover, took his side while I was there and gained his trust very fast. He trusted me with a storage room that contained dangerous weapons along with poison gas. When I arrived my team had ambushed them and we got rid of everything. Yuri’s men and his weapons and burned the place to the ground.”

The team is shocked to hear his work. Having been undercover and working with Yuri along with getting his trust in order to get locations of important cargo.

“Shit, Laswell was right.” Soap mumbled out, not believing her at first. “Right, she’s got us worried about you but it looks like you are pretty useful.” John steps in, getting Zeros attention who turned his head to face John.

Behind the goggles he stared at John intently, his lips curling into a smile under the mask before looking back at his own plans. He leans forward to point a gloved finger at the map, showing them a circled area. A sticky note was attached to it and it’s John who takes it and reads it out loud.

“Yuri’s second in command is located here. He is to be transporting weapons back to their warehouse at midnight.”

Ghost speaks up. “Using the dark for coverage.”

“Makes it easy for them to move dangerous weapons without getting stopped.” Added Gaz.

John examined the map and location before sighing deeply and standing up straight. “Alright, we are heading out in an hour—take what you need and get ready. We’re checking the place out and putting a stop to it.”

“Yes, sir.” They all say in unison and began to get prepared for the mission.

—

Zero was located across town nearest to the road that Yuri’s men are to take tonight. He’s hiding in the shadows, rifle in hand as he waits for any signs of movement. He’s alone and the night is quiet only the sound of crickets and civilians from afar is heard. He focuses ahead and still doesn’t see any movement, sighing to himself he turns on his comms.

“No sign of movement.”

He doesn’t get a response which caused him to frown. “Price, do you copy?” Silence. “Ghost? Soap? Gaz? Does anyone copy?” Nothing. He’s quick to step away from the ledge, something feeling terribly wrong with the silence he is receiving from the rest of the team. He remembers price telling him that he’d be on the west side of town nearest to the compound. Zeros eyes widen in realization, it’s a trap.

Zero takes the rifle in his hand and straps it over his shoulder as he leaves the roof, moving in the dark and making his way west. A few trucks pass by, causing him to hide against a few houses and checking the area to see a few familiar faces. Yuri’s men were transporting the weapons down another road, changing the plans and rerouting to a different area. Zero stalks closer, hearing murmurs in Russian when he finds a window in the compound.

It doesn’t take him long to find his team trapped inside a room, door locked while a few men chuckled. “Should we perhaps try to experiment?” One of them says as they turn to face a taller man who wore all black, hair white as snow as they wore round glasses. A hint of a grin upon their lips. “We shall.” His accent is rough, turning around and giving Zero a better view of the man.

“Yakov.” Zero mumbled to himself, glaring at the scientist and watched as he walks over to a tank with a label stating ‘poison gas’ in Russian. The simple warning alerts Zero as Yakov moved the tank over to the room with his teammates, locked inside while the scientist got to work. Zero pulls away from the window, looking around frantically and finding the breaker box located near the entrance.

He moves quickly, rushing over to the box and tanking it open as he switched the lights off. The sound of confused voices fills the night. Zero activates his night vision goggles, pulling out a blade that was tucked away around his leg. “Time to work.” He says to himself and moves back to the window, looking inside to see Yakov shouting at his own men in Russian to check the place and to turn the power back on. Before they could scatter he’s able to lift the window, getting inside without making a sound.

“Go! Without power I am unable to get this done without getting us all killed!”

One of Yakovs men opens his mouth to respond back only to stumble forward with a grunt, falling face first onto the ground with a blade sticking behind his back. The scientist gaped with wide eyes, looking around frantically in the dark as he holds his own gun out. He’s unable to see but he hears the sound of his own men falling one by one. A few gunshots go off which startles the scientist, pulling the trigger on his own gun. He doesn’t hit anything and yelps when the gun is shoved out of his hands and is pinned against the door where Zeros team stood.

His arm against his neck as he applied pressure to his windpipe, causing the scientist to thrash in his hold and tried to kick him off. Zero cocks his head in a menacing way. “Yuri is a fool to leave you unprepared.” He whispered, shoving his blade deep into the scientist stomach and watched as his body slowly grows limp in his hold. Zero let’s him go and slumps down onto the floor.

Zero gives the scientist a long stare before turning back towards the door. He takes a look at the lock and gets down on one knee and began to pick the lock, working fast into getting it unlocked and removing the chain. When he proves the door open he forgets how defensive his teammates might get and isn’t prepared when he’s tackled to the ground.

Price holding him in a headlock as he grunts, elbowing price on the ribs as his grip loosened. He’s quick to get out of his hold and turn around to face the rest of his team. “It’s Zero!” He coughs out, voice croaking.

“Zero? Thank fuck your alive.” It’s Soap who sighs in relief when he comes face to face with the new recruit. “Wait—you just spoke.”

Zero clears his throat nervously, opening his mouth to give a response back but is cut off by the sound of gunshots going off. “Out now!” Price shouts as they all run to the back, finding a door and busting their way through and escaping into the dark night, hiding deep into the woods and away from Yuri’s men. Once they are far enough and not being followed they finally get the chance to breath.

“Those damn coordinates took us to a trap!” Ghost shouts, angrily turning to face Price and Zero. “Damn rookie almost brought us to our death.”

“Easy, ghost.” Price holds his hand up, stopping him from approaching Zero any further. Things were getting escalated by the sudden outburst, blaming Zero for the misinformation and near death that they almost had. Zero stands in silence, panting heavily, head lowered as his mind wandered.

“I almost lost you…” his voice is a soft whisper, not loud enough to be heard from the others arguing with each other. It wasn’t until Price speaks up. “Enough! We should be glad that Zero got us out of there. Who knew how long we were going to be stuck inside with no weapons or plan.” Their captain glared at everyone, giving them a stern talk.

“You could have been dead.”

Zeros voice startled everyone. They all turned to face him as he stood there.

“You could have died and I—“ Zero shakes his head. “I could have lost you.” His last statement is directed towards Price who furrowed his brows in confusion.

Zero sighs, reaching up to remove his helmet and goggles, along with his mask too. His face is bare to the entire team, giving them all a chance to see his face. His eyes avert towards Price who stared with wide eyes, taking him in and stepping forward. “Y/n?” He reached out to place his hand against his neck, thumb stroking his jaw as he sniffles.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured out, staring into the eyes of his husband of two years. Y/n knew Prices work and that he lead his own task force along with having history in the SAS. He’d told John that he worked at an office, doing paperwork and staying indoors knowing damn well that was a lie. He worked with Laswell who knew there history. Y/n had spent years working for her, killing people and going undercover, keeping his identity hidden and never speaking a word to anyone unless it was Laswell who he trusted. He never thought that he’d end up falling in love with their captain and getting married to a military man. What they did was dangerous but Y/n feared that his work was far more dangerous and complicated.

Yet, here he stood. Facing his husband who he almost lost if he hadn’t figured out Yuri’s ambush against his team. The thought of him not making it on time and finding John dead crushed him. He couldn’t lose him, not when he’s finally found happiness.

“Oh, my love.” Johns voice is soft, pulling him close into a hug as Y/n holds back a sob and buried his face deeper into his shoulder. His hands gripping his back, afraid to let go. “Im sorry.” He muffled. The two pulling away. “I didn’t know how to tell you and I was afraid of what you’d think of me doing this sort of work.”

John sighs deeply, shaking his head. “Does Laswell know?”

He nods in confirmation.

That brings a laugh out of johns lips, shaking his head in disappointment. “She knew about us and yet she took the risk into adding you into my team.”

“Don’t blame her, John. I requested to help as long as I stayed quiet and didn’t let our personal life interfere. I had more information about Makarov and his business than you ever did.” He argued back, glaring at John. “If it wasn’t for me I wouldn’t have known about the weapons and his damn scientist Yakov—the man is brutal! I spent a month undercover and working for them in order to get what I needed and had to sit back and watch as he tortured my men! My people.” He bites out. “And I—I almost saw it happen again, but with you on the other end and I couldn’t let that happen.”

John pulled him close again, whispering soft words into his ears. “It’s alright, I’m fine and made it out. Because of you we are all alive.” John knew that he couldn’t be upset with his own husband, everyone makes mistakes and takes risks. He’s simply happy that their both together again.

Their moment together is cut by soap.

“Wait—your married?!”

[captainpains]

Wedding Vows (Wrecker x reader)

For @autistic-artistech in the @cloneficgiftexchange. I had so much fun writing this and it helped me with my writers block. I hope you enjo💕💕

Prompt: I can’t believe this is happening

Warnings: fem reader, making shit up about wedding traditions, FLUFF, established relationship, Wrecker being adorable

~

You took a deep breath as you nervously pulled at your dress. You honestly never thought that you’d end up here, in a beautiful dress with a bouquet.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you breathed as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You met the bad batch at the start of the war, when you were assigned as their team medic. You didn’t know that Wrecker would become so dear to you.

“Wow! You’re short!” The first words Wrecker said to you.

“Wow! You’re tall. I think everyone is short to you.” You replied, somewhat sarcastically, looking up at him.

Wrecker gave a hearty laugh, “I like this one!”

It was an odd way to start a job – or a friendship – but you really did like working with the batch. They were chaotic but (despite what they seem to think) reliably predictable. It was a weird dynamic that provided a bit of stability in such an uncertain time. Hunter was a very stoic and good leader. Tech was really smart, if a little arrogant and emotionally unavailable. Crosshair was terrifying but his sarcasm made him slightly less so. And Wrecker was very loud, but kind and sweet to you. He was the first one to accept you as a part of the batch. It probably helped that Wrecker was the one who needed the most regular medical attention. 

“Ya know I don’t think I need the bacta shot after all.” Wrecker nervously bargained as he eyed the needle in your hand.

“Oh, well the fact you’ve been moaning about how much pain you’re in is definitely not a reason to give you some bacta.” You sarcastically said, but you placed a hand on his large shoulder to help ground him. “And breathe in…”

You were always especially gentle when caring for Wrecker. None of the batch liked getting any medical attention, and you were weary of it. But if the others noticed that you gave Wrecker extra special attention, they never mentioned it.

You don’t quite know when your feelings towards Wrecker started to become amorous. Maybe it was when he started to talk to you more about topics not related to the missions. Or maybe it was when he started to sit much closer to you.

Or more likely it was when he’d defended you in the midst of a battle gone wrong.

“You really have to be more careful,” you scolded as you cleaned one of his wounds.

“But, I don’t want you to get hurt…” He mumbled, looking at his hands on the edge of his knees.

You stopped what you were doing and looked at him. He had a solemn look on his face that you’d seen him have before. You grabbed one of his hands, causing him to look at you.

“And I’m thankful for that…” You said, sincerely. 

Wrecker engulfed you in a hug. You gave a small smile and hugged him back. He placed his head on your shoulder. He took a few deep breaths before letting you go.

You continued to smile as you worked on wrapping one the wound on his arm. Wrecker was affectionate with you but this time it felt different. More meaningful. 

When you finally confessed your feelings for one another, it was in a very unconventional way. At the end of a mission, Wrecker had blown up a pirate hideout. You still had no idea how, but he managed to make the smoke from the explosion spell out your name. It was probably the sweetest and most Wrecker thing he could’ve done.

That one date obviously turned into many, many more. And when

A knock on the door brought you out of your thoughts.

“Hey…” Hunter said as he opened the door. “It’s time. Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You gave a nervous laugh.

Hunter nodded and offered his elbow. You placed your arm through his and walked together towards the balcony where the ceremony was taking place.

“You seemed a little out of it.”

“I was just thinking, is all.”

“Having second thoughts?”

“Never.”

You reached the top of the aisle and Hunter moved away from you, walking on the otherside of the chairs to stand next to Wrecker at the altar.

You took a deep breath and started to walk down the aisle. Wrecker stood at the end with a large smile, in his freshly painted armor. He didn’t consider himself a mandalorian, at least not as much as Hunter did, but that tradition he wanted to honor. 

When you reached the end of the aisle, you handed the bouquet to Omega and placed your hands in his. 

Shep was standing in the middle of the arch you two were under, ready to officiate the wedding.

“And we will begin…”

You smiled at your groom and he gave a large grin back. 

“We have gathered here today to join two souls together. Fate and love will now entwine these two forever more. And we celebrate their union and honor them as they deserve. Now for the vows. Both the bride and groom have decided to say their own vows.”

He gave a nod to Wrecker, the sign for him to start talking.

“I want to start by sayin’ thank you for helping my family. You are the best medic that we could’ve asked for. I’ve known since I first met ya that you were an amazing person, but you’re more than that. You are the kindest and funniest person that I’ve ever met. You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, and I am excited to wake up with you everyday. I promise to love and care for you. I promise to be your friend and partner until the day I die.

“Wrecker, I love you more than anything, And would not trade this life for anything. I love your laugh and your smile. You are one of the best people I have ever met, and I promise to love and care for you, for the rest of our lives.”

“You may now kiss the bride.”

You ecstatically threw your arms around your husband and happily kissed him. Wrecker wrapped his hands around your waist and lifted you up into the air. You broke the kiss to squeal.

The attendees laughed. Wrecker put you down.

“Now it’s time to party!”

[hearthotchner]

— gif credits to the owner

summary: in which aaron comforts the reader who’s mentally exhausted.

— for @my-mummy-dust (who also helped me write this 🫶)

there was no other way to describe it, other than you were off. over the course of the last few days, you began to feel empty on the inside — like you were the shell of the person you used to be.

there was no explanation for it, nor did you know when it started. although, you were sure if you asked spencer, he’d provide you with a lengthy answer, which on any other day, you’d laugh at his absurdity, but not even his ridiculous facts could fix you.

you knew that your team would catch on quicker than you’d want them to, seeing as they were profilers. you knew they would catch onto how distant you’d become, conversation or team meetings. how you weren’t as aware of your surroundings while on the field. but one of the things that all of them noticed the most was how your personality, so bubbly and cheerful it was contagious, was now gone. leaving nothing but a dull, disconnected person in its wake; who just so happened to be their teammate who they loved so deeply.

when you were alone, you’d think about how something like this would cost you your job — they’d see how you were unfit for the role, and take away the only thing that you could keep ahold of. you seemed to have lost interest in all your hobbies, them seeming more like a chore, rather than something you enjoyed.

you snapped out of your head when you heard your name being called for the third time,

“yeah? sorry derek.” you smiled apologetically.

“don’t worry about it, i was just asking if you got anything for the profile.”

you hummed, pulling a chair out for him to sit with you, as you shared your ideas.

just before he got up to leave he said, “hey, you know you can talk to us, right? if anything’s going on, we’re here for you. all of us.”

you felt so guilty. they probably thought they did something wrong, and you were pulling away from them because of it. you wished you could tell him why you were like this, how you weren’t doing it on purpose, it just happened.

“i know, thank you.”

he gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder, when he left.

hotch had instructed the team to take a break, and clear your heads for a bit, so you could see the case with a fresh set of eyes.

it was him who worried the most, but the worry was always from afar, too afraid to come close, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from pouring his heart out. he didn’t want to put you in a compromised position. what he felt for you, wasn’t right — a boss should never feel like that for his subordinate.

yet, that never stopped him from doing those little things for you: making sure your favourite snacks were stocked in the break room, he always bought the specific brand of pens that you liked, when he went out to buy his own. in the summer months, he’d leave a smoothie and a baked good on your desk, every monday, because he knew you found it hard to sleep with the heat, and were extra grouchy in the morning.

even if you didn’t know who it was, you still left thank you notes for them to find. they warmed aaron’s heart, and never failed to bring a smile to his lips — he kept all of them.

“hey, hotch, could you pass this to (y/n), please?”

he nodded as he took two cups from jj, and made his way over to you.

upon hearing a cup being placed on the table, you looked up at your boss, while muttering a small ‘thanks’ to him. he smiled in return, looking around for others, before taking the seat next to you. “i.. um.. i noticed you’ve been acting a little distant lately.” he started, voice hushed, as he stuttered to find the right words; before he could continue, he was interrupted by you apologising profusely, saying that you didn’t mean for it to affect your work. he quickly reassured you, “no. it’s not about work, your work is fine. i just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“i’m fine, hotch.”

he raised his eyebrows a little, “okay, i just- if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, my door is always open.”

your touch burned a fire in him, that he had no desire of putting out. “thanks, but i’m fine.”

reluctantly, he moved his arm out of your hand and left the room.

—

later that night, you stared blankly up at the dark ceiling, trying to fall asleep for the past hour, but it was like your eyes were glued open — no sign of sleep present.

becoming frustrated with yourself, you sighed. why couldn’t you sleep? you didn’t understand what was wrong, why your body refused to listen.

sitting up, you began to feel the tears brimming in the corners of your eyes — you weren’t upset, so, why were you crying?

—

in his room, aaron was pacing, back and forth. his interaction with you was replaying in the back of his mind, and he cringed at his own words.

my door is always open? he was so out of it.

pinching the bridge of his nose, “what an idiot.” he murmured.

a quick knock on the door, pulled him from his thoughts,

“does the offer still stand?” you asked, the look on your face shifting from a frown to hopeful, when the door was opened.

“yeah, come in,” he moved, “do you need anything? a drink? something to eat? i can order something.”

you shook your head, whilst following him to the couch. “then talk to me,” he spoke, “(y/n). what’s wrong?” he longed to reach over and intertwine your fingers, thinking about how your hands would fit into each other perfectly.

“that’s the thing.. i don’t- i don’t know. i don’t know why i’m like this, aaron.” when your gaze met his, he saw the confusion and the anger that lingered in your eyes. “i’m pulling away, but i don’t mean to. i can’t focus, i can’t do anything, and i don’t know why.” you cried, “there’s something wrong with me.”

somehow, you wound up in his arms, head resting against his chest, as you broke down.

“sometimes, there’s no explanation for the stuff that goes on in your mind. we can’t make sense of why we’re acting the way that we are, and we don’t need to.” he began running his hand up and down your back, “what we need, is to fix it, in whatever way is best for us.”

for a while, you two stayed in the same position, not speaking a word, whilst you settled.

“hotch?” you whispered, eyelids getting heavy.

“hm?”

“where do you get those smoothies from?”

his breathing hitched, and his eyes widened slightly.

“i had a feeling it was you,” he didn’t have to look to know that you were smiling; that thought alone made his cheeks tint a soft pink. “i’m glad it was.” you added on, pulling him down to lay next to you on the couch, your breath tickling his neck.

his back would be killing him the next morning, but he didn’t have it in him to care.

aaron would endure all the pain in the world, if it meant that he had the chance to have you sleep next to him every night.

[flemingsfreckles]

Physio’s Daughter

Jessie Fleming x Physio!Reader

Preview: Reader is following in her mother’s footsteps in becoming a physiotherapist and gets the opportunity to spend the afternoon with the Canadian women’s soccer team.

Warnings: none

WC: 3.7k

A/N: this is going to be a few parts

You couldn’t believe you were attending ‘bring your kid to work day’ with your mom as a 22 year old but here you were, in the car on the way to her work.

“Are you sure I’m not too old to be coming with you?” You questioned your mom.

“It’ll be just like going to your clinical rotations. Plus you can put it on your resume, so it's really just helping you.” That’s how your mom had tried to convince you that you’d have fun coming to work with her. “Plus I talked with my boss, he said as of now we have an extra spot on the physio team to take someone to the Olympics, if you do well today, maybe it could be you.”

“Wouldn’t you want someone who's more qualified, not just a student?” You were in the process of obtaining your certification as a physiotherapist. You had finished your bachelor’s degree and were in the middle of your post graduate athletic therapy program.

“We have all the staff we need, they think bringing on someone young might be good. The players might like having someone closer to their age, not just all 40 and 50 year olds on their staff. Plus you’re plenty qualified, we have students in and out of the facility all the time.”

As a kid you always tagged along with your mom, you didn't have much of a choice, having a single mom who worked late hours in secondary schools meant your evenings were spent in her training room or on the sidelines of games. The older you got, the less you went with your mom, opting to stay home or spend time with friends instead of accompanying her at work. When you moved out to go to university you had chosen to follow in your Mom’s footsteps, intending to become a physiotherapist as well. At the same time you moved out, your Mom took on a new job, one that allowed her to travel more, a job with the Canada’s Women’s Soccer Team.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend the day with your mom, you were interested in seeing her work, it was more that you knew you'd be the oldest “kid” who was at her work, a lot of her other staff had either young children or kids that had moved away and were on with their own lives.

The ride to the training facility was short, you got out of the car, and walked into the front door. You followed your mom around the facility, having no idea where to go. She walked you down and around various hallways, saying hello to the other staff who passed with their small children. You just would give a polite hello and a wave before continuing down the hall.

It was a weird feeling, walking into a room of players you recognized from TV, players who were well known across the country and the world, and yet they greeted your Mom with a hello and questions about her weekend, as if they were friends.

“That is my daughter, she thinks she's too old to be here but she's studying to be a physio too so I figured I'd bring her here and get some free labor.” You hear your mom joking with the two players standing in front of her, she's pointing at you over her shoulder and the two players who you recognized to be Janine Beckie and Ashley Lawrence were looking over at you. You politely wave and move over in their direction.

“Hi.” Not knowing what to say to them, you just keep it short.

They both introduce themselves to you, you assume just being polite of them, it would be hard to not know who they were. One of the other physios comes in, taking Ashley to get taped, your mom taking Janine to work on her knee. Not sure what to do with yourself you just stand back, as if you were back to being a shy 6 year old in a new environment hiding behind your mom. You watch your mom work, she moves effortlessly, doing tasks in seconds that would take you minutes. You always admired your Mom at her work but you had a new appreciation now that you had begun school and realized how much work and time it took to learn everything.

Players come and go, getting various treatments, keeping the staff busy. You watch around, seeing the rest of the staff, how they work with the players, how they all seemed so relaxed and at ease.

“Hi Jessie, how are you, what do you need today?” Your mom looks past you toward the door where Jessie Fleming had walked in. Obviously you knew who she was, her olympic heroics from many years ago making her a Canadian household name. On top of her soccer talent that drew your attention as a kid, her appearance definitely didn't hurt. You had always found her pretty, a silly little school girl crush when you were younger watching her on TV as she played as a teenager, something that you had forgotten about over the years but her standing in front of you brought it all back up.

“Hi, I’m doing well. Can I just get my calf worked out? I’ve been having some tightness.” She looked at your mom, a polite smile across her face, she pointed at the empty table as she asked.

“Can you handle that?” You realize your mom is looking at you, asking you to help with Jessie as the rest of the staff is held up with other players. She’s asking you to help

“Um, yeah, sure.” You weren’t going to say no, plus you could handle a simple massage.

“Jessie, this is my daughter, she’s a physio student and plenty qualified to massage your calf, I promise.” You roll your eyes at your mom’s comment, feeling embarrassed that she has to explain that you’re able to help. You wash your hands and walk over to the table Jessie had sat down on.

“Hi, I’m Jessie.” She introduces herself, her hand extended for a handshake, you can't help but let out a small laugh at the fact that she of all people is introducing herself.

“I know who you are.” Your hand meets hers taking her handshake and you quickly introduce yourself to her. Her hand is soft but her handshake is firm, it only lasts a second before you pull back, pointing to her legs.

“Which calf?” You look at her. She points to her left before taking off her sock and she rolls over onto her stomach shifting up the table so that just her foot is hanging off the edge. You grab lotion and rub it into your hands before placing your hands slowly onto Jessie’s leg. You take a few passes of your hands over her leg before starting to dig into the muscle. It doesn't take you long to find the knot that is resting in her leg, focusing on it. You feel Jessie clench her muscle and slightly pull her leg away. You quickly lighten the pressure you were putting on her and you look at the direction of her face. You see a small grimace across her face.

“Are you good?” The last thing you want is to hurt the captain of the team, that probably wouldn't go over well with anyone.

“Yeah it's just sore. I’ve had some previous injury with it.” You knew that, you knew about most of the players' previous injuries, they were publicly announced anyway and you liked to keep up with your mom on what she was doing at work.

“Sorry.” Not sure if it's appropriate to apologize, you do it anyway.

“Oh don’t be, it’s never been a huge injury so I’m lucky. Unless you were saying sorry about the soreness, but then don’t worry, it’s sort of a good hurt I guess.” She stumbles a bit with their words, looking back at you over her shoulder. With her confirmation that the pain wasn’t bad, you return your pressure to her leg, working your fingers deep into her skin.

“Is she doing alright Jessie?” The voice of your Mom comes from behind you, you turn to see her walking up toward you, finished with the other athletes.

“She might be better than you.” Jessie laughs joking with your mom. “No but seriously she's doing great.”

“I taught her well then.” Your mom gives you a pat on the shoulder before walking away and moving to a desk to do some paperwork.

You finish up with Jessie’s calf, letting her know she should be good to go, the knot being worked out. She stands up with a smile and thanks you for the help. She uses your name when she thanks you which causes a small blush to come across your cheeks. You can't keep your eyes off of her as she walks out to head to the field. When she turns the corner and out of your sight you shake your head, trying to clear your mind as you feel the small childhood crush come crawling back up.

You clean up the table you had been working on, putting the lotion away and wiping down the table with sanitizer. Moving over to where your mom was working, she was completing reports for each of the players who had come in for treatment, she passed them to you to file once she’s completed with them. When the paperwork is done you follow her out to the pitch. You find yourself sitting on the bench, watching as the players work through drills, your mom occasionally going to chat with the coaching staff or other physios.

You couldn't help but watch Jessie, watching how effortlessly she made moving the ball look, how much power and control she had on the ball, it was fascinating. On a couple of occasions you found yourself admiring her physique a little too much, watching as her muscles twitch with every movement. You also started to notice she was favoring her weight on her right leg the longer practice went on.

“Mom.” You get your mom’s attention, not wanting to make the call yourself on if Jessie’s movements were unusual. “Does Fleming usually favor her right leg?”

“What?” She moves over closer to you, looking out to the field in the direction of Jessie. You both watch as Jessie takes another pass, moving upfield with the ball. “Oh, no she doesn't, I mean she prefers her right foot, but not like that.”

At the next water break you see your mom sitting in front of Jessie, hand on her calf, you watch as they talk about your mom maneuvering her leg. When the team moves back to the field, the players and coaches bring out their kids, letting them join in on games. Jessie stays sitting, now talking with your mom and the coach. She then stands up, your mom following her in your direction.

“Can you take her inside? I want to be overcautious and treat her for a calf strain, heat pack, use the TENS unit, then have her roll out, ice and tape.” Your mom throws a laundry list of tasks at you.

“Of course.” You stand up, grabbing your water and phone from next to you before heading in the direction of the physio room.

“Sorry you're getting stuck with me again.” You apologize to Jessie, trying to make small talk with the girl and also hoping she doesn’t feel like she’s getting stuck with just the student again.

“Oh, I don't mind. I wasn't really joking earlier when I said you did a better job than your mom.” She gives you a smile, you feel the flutter in your stomach. Her praise is nice, but it's the smile that she's giving you that makes your stomach flip, it’s gentle and friendly. “Don't take that the wrong way, your mom is excellent, just it was different, you were more thorough maybe, I’m not sure, it was just different.” Jessie rambles.

“That's probably because I’m more nervous about messing up than they are.” You’re honest, you were doing everything to the exact standard, following the expectations you had been taught in class, yet to develop your own style.

“You’re nervous?” She seems surprised.

“I mean, wouldn’t you be, being brought into a professional sports team and being asked to help that team's captain while you're still a student? I mean I guess you’re usually level headed, penalty machine and all.” Thankfully you have half a brain to not throw in that the captain being attractive was definitely adding to your nerves.

“Oh believe me, I was nervous for those penalties but I’ve always thought nerves are good, they show you care. How much more school do you have?” She continues with the small talk.

“Just another semester. And then licensing tests, but just a semester of school.”

“That's exciting, do you know what you are going to do after that?” You make your way into the training room, holding the door open for Jessie to walk through.

“I don’t know, probably work at some secondary school to start, work my way up to bigger teams, I'll have to see what options I have. Go ahead and sit up on the table.” You point at the table at the end of the room as you move over to where the heat packs were stored. Jessie is sitting on the table, watching you when you turn around. You lift her foot, placing the heat pack on the table before placing her calf down on top of it.

“Is it still just sore or is it more sharp now?” Turning the conversation back to a more professional topic away from the small talk about yourself.

“Just sore, feels like a sore muscle.”

“You know, it's nice to actually meet you finally.” When you give her a confused look, she continues “I just mean your mom talks a lot about you.”

“Oh that's embarrassing.” You regret saying it as soon as it comes out of your mouth, you loved your mom, you know you shouldn’t be embarrassed about her talking about you.

“No, it's actually really sweet, I hope my parents talk about me even half as much as your mom talks about you. She’s so proud of you. You're her world.”

“Yeah, I know, it was always just the two of us. I know she misses me when I’m at school, I feel bad leaving her sometimes.” You look down, then realize youre probably giving way too much information to someone who likely doesn't care. “Sorry, I don't mean to talk about my personal stuff.”

“No problem, I don't mind, it's nice talking to you,” she quickly corrects her sentence “to someone closer to my age.”

You pull up a stool and sit with Jessie while she uses the heat pack. When the heat pack starts to cool off you slide over and start digging around for the TENS unit your mom recommended. When you’ve opened your third cabinet and had no luck finding it Jessie speaks up.

“They keep the TENS over there.” She points across the room to a different cabinet. You push up off the stool and move over to where she pointed, opening a drawer and finding it quickly.

“Sorry, I obviously don’t know where anything is, I didn't have time to really get acclimated this morning.” You feel embarrassed, already feeling inferior being the student but now being clueless and having to have Jessie tell you where everything is.

“That’s alright.” She reassures you. You move back and attach the pads onto her calf, turning the machine on low and handing her the controls and tell her to leave it on for 10 minutes. She messes with the controls of a second before setting down the remote and slightly leaning back, her arms propped behind her. Not knowing what to do with yourself you stand up and move over to the other tables where rolls of tape, bandaids, scissors, and various other tools used by the trainers are askew. You tidy up, finding where things belong through your own searching.

“So what do you do outside of school?” You had gotten used to the silence that Jessie’s voice breaks.

“Well school takes up most of my time, I wish I could travel more, I miss going to new places, seeing new things. But unfortunately school turns me into a pretty boring person.”

“Maybe you’ll get a travel experience this summer eh?” You turn at her, you’re assuming she’s implying going with your mom to Paris for the Olympics. “Your mom mentioned she wanted you to come with the team.”

“Yeah she said something about it to me, I mean I’d have to have her boss, Mark, pick me, I think there’s a few people they’re looking at for the trip. She thinks it’ll be a good experience for me for future jobs. I know it would look good on a resume and all but I also don’t want to get the opportunity just because my mom is here.”

“If it means anything you have my vote, the other people have been boring.” Jessie quickly says. “Sorry that’s not what I meant. I just meant, you’ve been the best one they’ve tried out. You care the most, at least it seems like you do. Plus you’re easy to talk to, the rest were too caught up on work, some of them stressed me out just being around them. And no one else was as observant. Your mom mentioned you were the one to see I was putting my weight off center, that’s why it’s important to have fresh eyes.”

“Yeah, I just happened to be watching, I get told I’m observant a lot.” You move your hands to take the TENS unit off of her gently peeling the pads from her skin. You move to grab her the foam ball across the room, tossing it in her direction. Jessie tried to catch it, it bounces off her hands, into her face and then onto the floor.

“Oh my god sorry, I didn’t mean to throw it that hard.” You throw your hands in her direction apologizing. Moving quickly across the room you pick up the ball where it had rolled before gently placing it in her hand.

“Nope, that was my fault. There’s a reason I play a foot sport.” She laughs. Her laugh is beautiful, it fills the room momentarily. It makes you feel light inside.

Just as she moves to the floor to begin rolling out her calf, the training room door opens and in comes the loud crowd of her teammates. They move in all directions across the room, some moving to the ice bath, some moving to grab heat packs. Some move to take off tape, tossing it in the trash. It’s loud, conversations in every direction and you’re quickly swept away, your arm being pulled by your mom as she moves you over to where the ice cooler was. You’re instructed to make ice bags for the players who want them and help them wrap the ice wherever they want it. It’s an easy task but it takes you away from Jessie, no longer having the quiet privacy of the training room.

You wrap arms and legs and shoulders and backs and feet with ice. You can’t help but keep glancing at Jessie, she was still rolling her calf, chatting with her teammates as they walked by. On a couple instances you caught her looking back at you, she’d give a quick smile before looking away. You finish the last player requesting ice and when you look up Jessie is now sitting on the table with Mark, he’s taping her calf. A small part of you feels jealous, which is insanely stupid you tell yourself, she’s his player not yours, he’s the head trainer, you’re not even one, it should be him doing the work.

Only a few minutes later, Jessie hops off the table, giving you a wave and a shout of thanks before leaving the room. Only staff remained, the rest of the players on their way home for the day. You finish cleaning up, asking your Mom a couple of times where everything belongs, making sure nothing gets put away in the wrong place.

It feels like time has flown by in the eight hours that you have been at the training center, before you know it you’re headed out to the car with your mom, the same way you came in this morning.

“Mark wanted to extend the offer for you to spend the rest of the summer here, and for the Olympics. He’s going to give you a call tomorrow, but he gave me a heads up. It can probably count as some clinical work for school, he said he’ll just have to get the paperwork sorted. Something about high praises from a certain team captain.” Your mom nudges you with her shoulder. You look at her and you can tell she’s being suggestive with her wording.

“What?” Your cheeks begin to flush slightly. “You’re the one who kept sticking her with me.”

“I know, I also know you had a little crush when you were younger.” She teases. You just roll your eyes, not wanting to give yourself away.

“Oh my god mom that was years ago, she’s not my type.” It was true, your dating history was littered with blonde preppy girls with terrible personalities, quite literally the opposite of Jessie. Hoping that fact would help your argument that you didn’t still have a crush on Jessie and it seemed to as your mom dropped the topic.

“I know honey, I’m only kidding you. You can drive, I’m tired.” She places the keys in your hand. You don’t mind driving, you turn back looking at the facility, realizing you could be spending your summer everyday here didn’t sound like too bad of an idea.

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄: but if you decide to, i'll ride in this life with you (i won't let go 'til the end)

PAIRING: jake seresin x f!original character

TAGS: nightmares, mentions of alcohol, brief description of an anxious-depressive attack, jake struggling with his mental health, pining, maybe ooc bc i'm lowk projecting onto jake, hurt/comfort, jake and jessie endgame (finally!!), and i think that's it...?

A/N: this part is heavily inspired by lady gaga's song from the movie. it is technically mav & penny's anthem, but it is now jake & jessie's. this part also depicts jake struggling with his mental health. if you're struggling, don't be afraid to ask for help. i know how scary it can be at times, but you're not alone <3 anyways, now for the elephant in the room. we've reached the end... it's been two years since i started writing for this fic and man, it's been a ride with the whole reboot and all. i appreciate every one of you who've read this series, whether you were here pre-reboot or are just now finding it. this may be the end of the main series, but i will def be writing for them again. my requests are always open as well! tysm and happy reading!

WORD COUNT: ~3.1k

previous part || masterlist

The mission had irrevocably changed everything. Promotions from Lieutenant to Lieutenant Commander ran across the board and against their troubled assumptions, they weren’t sent back to their original squadrons. Instead, the Daggers became an official and permanent team, flying missions like their first if needed and instituted as Top Gun instructors alongside Maverick, who Cyclone kept in service despite his prior opinions about the captain. On paper, all of their lives seemed to be going in the best direction possible—but typed-up documents couldn’t account for the things the eye couldn’t see. Everyone had gotten home safe—Jake had made sure of that. So why did his sleeping conscience keep telling him differently?

Most nights, his dreams were plagued with images of an F-14 exploding. At first, it had been who it originally was inside the cockpit: Maverick and Rooster. He’d managed to send his own plane’s missile in time to save them, but what if he had been a second too late?

Then it changed one night. Rooster’s cries as they flew upwards were replaced by someone else's voice—one he knew all too well. It was her in the cockpit. Every night that a nightmare jolted him awake, he’d woken up in a cold sweat, his breath heavy as he struggled to figure out what scenario that his sub-conscience showed him was real. But nights like these came with the job. He was bound to have nightmares like that. Throughout his career, not once had he ever been afraid to fly, so when his hands slightly trembled when he settled into his jet before a training exercise, he just shook it off. 

Then he was suddenly 10,000 feet in the air. He remembered that his wingman today was Rooster—that they were meant to train the new recruits. What he wasn’t sure about was whether the gap in his memory between when he got into the cockpit and now was because of muscle memory or something else entirely. As Rooster’s voice droned over the comms system, he sat in silence—a silence that didn’t go unnoticed by his wingman. “Hangman, you good?”

“I’m good, Rooster,” he responded, hoping Rooster didn’t notice his hesistance. “Let’s just show these newbies how it’s done, yeah?

Bradley had heard that response so many times over the years, and it had always been said quickly and laced with arrogance—like a reflex. So the small waver in Jake’s voice and the extra second that it took for him to reply threw Bradley off. Before he could press him about it, Jake yelled out. “Fight’s on!”

It didn’t take the pair long to get tone on the newbies they had in the air, sending them back to base with them following behind them. Jake took note of the small ache in his chest as he flew, but it had been a few weeks since he had been up in the air. A small part of his knew something wasn’t right, but he just kept telling himself it was just his body reacclimating to the conditions. He was becoming friends with the rest of the squadron, had just gotten a promotion, and was finally setting down roots somewhere. Things were perfect. 

There was that word again. Perfect. Perfection. To be flawless or without flaws. His flight with Rooster and the new recruits went off without a hitch, so why did he feel like shit? 

Then it happened again. And again. And again. When he walked into the locker room and found it to be empty, he let out a small sigh of relief and took a seat in front of his locker. What’s wrong with him?

Wiping the sweat off of his face, he kept his hands on his forehead as he rested his elbows on his knees. The little droplets of tears that fell to the floor beneath him went unnoticed. Why was this happening? He should be fine—he is fine. No one had died, so why did his chest hurt so much like someone did?

He had closed his eyes just for a second, but that was all it took before his own mind betrayed him. Thoughts berating him about all of the what ifs. So caught up in his own head, he didn’t hear the door open. It wasn’t until footsteps clicked closer to him did he quickly try to compose himself. “Hey, Hangman,” Bob greeted, opening his locker.

“Hey Bob,” Jake managed to spit out as he tried his best for his voice not to crack.

“We’re heading over to the Hard Deck later for Mickey’s birthday. He meant to tell you earlier, but he said he couldn’t find you anywhere,”

Jake cleared his throat in an attempt to keep his composure in Bob’s presence. “I’ll be there. Thanks, Bob.” The WSO quietly gather his things and made his way out, giving Jake a firm pat on the shoulder as he passed him. When he pulled into the parking lot of Penny’s bar, he was surprised to see everyone’s cars already occupying the spaces near the door. As he walked in, he was met with the sight of party streamers draped across the ceiling, a banner strung up by the dart board that said, “Happy Birthday,” and the squadron gathered by the pool tables—their usual spot. Penny spotted him as she walked out of the backroom with a crate of beer, greeting him immediately. “Hi, honey.”

“Hey, Pen,” he replied, following her to the bar. He took a quick glance at the group across the way before looking back at Penny. “If I’m not mistaken, this place doesn’t officially open for another 30 minutes,” he started, Penny humming in response to let him know that she was listening. “So why does Fanboy already have a beer in his hands? You’re not giving him a pass just because it’s his birthday now, are you?”

She shot her head around to look over to the pool tables, a look of confusion on her face that quickly transformed into amusement at the sight. “He did not get that from me,” she said with a chuckle before going back to whatever she was doing.

“Jake, get over here,” Jessie exclaimed. Trudging over to where his best friend stood with a pool stick in her hand, he greeted her with a smile.

“Hey, you. Didn’t see you at work today,” she commented as she pulled him into a hug.

Yeah, because I had a panic attack. “Guess you just weren’t looking hard enough for me, Dice,” he said instead. She pulled away to give him a good once over, and Jake’s heart rate spiked. The couple seconds she took felt like an eternity as his voice argued with himself in his head. Get yourself out of this now or she’s gonna see right through you.

“Fanboy,” he shouted over her shoulder, causing Mickey to turn at the call of his callsign, his cheeks already a rosy shade of pink. “Happy birthday bud,” he greeted, subtly prying himself away from Jessie so that she couldn’t get a read on him. There was no need for her to worry about him, but his attempt was futile.

As Jessie watched Jake make his way over to the birthday boy, her face scrunched slightly with worry. He never really called her her callsign unless they were up in the air? She was so caught up in her worries about her best friend that she barely noticed Bradley come to stand next to her. “You okay?”

“Hm?” she hummed, eyes lingering on Jake for a second before turning to address Bradley. “Yeah, I’m good.”

When he scoffed, her brows knitted. “What?”

“You two,” he paused, glancing between her and Jake. “Are so alike that it’s scary sometimes.”

She chuckled, thinking he was teasing. “We’ve been friends for over a decade, it’d be scarier if we weren’t alike in some way.”

He gave her a look, causing her face to fall flat. She knew what Bradley was trying to get at. “We’re… happy like this, Brad. We always have been.”

“Maybe that was the case then, but things are different now,” he tried to reason but was immediately shut down.

“We’re here to celebrate Fanboy’s birthday, Bradshaw, so let’s celebrate, hm?” Bradley’s face fell at how easy it was for her to close herself off and put on a face. He only had tiny glimpses between the lines of what he knew of Jake and Jessie’s history, but that had been all he needed to fit the puzzle pieces together, or so he thought.

By 9 o’clock, Jessie had had enough of Jake’s insistence that he was fine. Growing up with Jake Seresin, she knew how to read him. There wasn’t much he could hide from her anymore. She knew everything there was about him. She knew his tells. It was obvious something was bugging him, and sbe knew just what to do to make him feel better even if he didn’t want to tell her. “Hey,” she whispered as she leaned next to him against the bartop.. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned to her and then at the party behind them. “What? We can’t just leave.”

“Half of them are already piss drunk,” she commented matter of factly. “Do you really want to be D.D. to all of them?”

He debated it for a second, as he looked at his now wasted squadmates. Bradley, Nat, Reuben and Bob all were sober. They could handle the other ten of them on their own, right?  “Okay. Let’s go.”

As Penny handed Jake’s card back to him, she reminded him, “Amelia gets out around 4 tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there,” he replied as he lazily shoved his card back into his wallet. Jessie made a mental note to ask about that later. Unconsciously, he took Jessie’s hand in his as they navigated their way through the crowd. A cool breeze that contrasted the mugginess of the building behind them hit them in the face as they walked through the door, making their cheeks flush.

“Where to, m’lady?” he asked eagerly in a silly voice, 

“Seaport Village?” she suggested and Jake immediately agreed with her. So that was how they found themselves sitting by the Midway Museum across the Embracing Peace statue with a box of pizza in hand. They sat in silence for most of the night until Jessie spoke up as she grabbed her fourth slice.

“So… when did you start babysitting Penny’s kid?”

He laughed. “It’s not technically babysitting. I’m just picking her up from school and dropping her off at her house.”

Jake caught her smile as she took a bite of her pizza. “What?”

“Nothing,” she quickly replied, a mischievous smirk still on her face as she shrugged and continued eating.

A few more minutes passed before either of them spoke again. “You know, she’s never seen X-Men before,” he randomly comments. At the information, Jessie’s eyes widened in shock, her jaw dropping to the floor.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m dead serious.”

“That’s just- Penny has done her daughter a disservice,” she declared, only half-joking.

“Tell me about it,” he added.

Jessie continued on. “I mean, how do people live with not ever seeing at least one X-Men movie? There’s like over a dozen of them and not one? Horrendous—actually horrendous.”

As she rambled, he looked on with adoration, nodding along as she ranted. Eventually, what she was saying started to go in one ear and out of the other. The only thing on his mind was how cute her investment looked as she went on about whatever she was talking about now and how the moonshine fell perfectly on her face. He had almost forgotten how worked up he had been in the past week, almost like she knew. He hoped she didn’t catch him looking at her like she’d hung the very moon that now shined brightly down on her. 

“What?” she asked, catching him staring. Crap. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

As she went up to swipe her mouth, he stopped her. “No, no, you’re fine. Just…” As he was about to spill his guts, images of a plane exploding flashed in his mind against his will, his face falling slightly. He shook his head, hoping she’d brush it off. Both of them turned to look at the statue before them again, unsure how to continue the conversation for the first time since they met all those years ago.

“You gonna tell me what’s been going on with you?” she asked and his heart clenched at the question. Of course she knew. She always knew, but where to even start? “If you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine,” she added. “But if something’s bothering you, you don’t have to deal with it on your own. You know I’m always gonna be here for you, Jake.” His gaze lingered on the statue in front of them before it drifted back to where his best friend sat next to him, waiting for an answer.

“I’ve been having nightmares,” he admitted. “It’s the same most nights: what would have happened had I not been there on time for Mav and Rooster? I figured it was normal. PTSD, you know? But then…” He looked up at her and found her looking at him intently, listening carefully, and it made his concerns wilt away.

“Then it… changed. Then it was you.” It was like a weight had lifted off of his shoulders—off of his chest as he said it out loud for the first time. “That night a few weeks ago when I… when you helped me. I think it’s because of the same thing that’s causing my nightmares now.”

Jake and Jessie were never people who shied away from telling each other things, but this was the first time Jessie had seen him so vulnerable. He’d always been guarded about his emotions, especially ones that weighed him down, so to see him be so open with her—that he trusted her enough to share the darkest parts of himself was moving. “I’m scared, Jess,” he voiced, the words coming out as a whisper as he tried not to break. “Scared that one day I’ll look next to me, and… and  you won’t be there.”

Her heart shattered at the confession. She remembered the night he was talking about. He had a panic attack. How long had he been feeling like this? Gently, she reached out to him, placing her hand on the one he rested between them. I’m here.

“You’re not going to lose me, Jake,” she whispered, her tone as gentle as her touch.

His face scrunched with doubt. “But what if I do?”

“You won’t,” she assured, her voice never wavering. She had taken his hand into hers now, squeezing it with conviction. Jake took a deep breath at the sentiment, warmth spreading through his body as he let her words settle into his head. Seeing him tear up, she surged forward and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry you thought you had to deal with this alone.”

He buried his head into her shoulder, squeezing her tighter as they basked in each other’s embrace. Leaning back, she carefully brought her hands to his cheeks, pulling him down to place a chaste kiss to his forehead before pulling back to study his face. Running a hand through his hair, she barely missed the way his eyes studied her own face, but it wasn’t long before she caught him and did the same thing.

As they locked eyes under the soft moonlight, the air between them shifted. The walls they’d put up to prevent themselves from ever crossing this line collapsed one by one as they grew closer to each other. The pull was familiar—one they had felt a long time ago but resisted. But things are different now. “I love you,” he blurted out. “I’m in love… with you.” Her cheeks reddened, and she took in a deep breath like she hadn’t been breathing—as though his words were what allowed her to breathe again.

“I have been since you bumped into me on the first day of school,” he continued, his heart racing now. She smiled, and Jake couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked—how beautiful she always looked. “I know I haven’t always been the greatest person. I’m arrogant, I’m reckless, and I push people away when things get hard—I push you away. But despite all of that, you’re still here. You stayed. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Her hands cupped his cheeks, gently wiping the stray tears that fell with her thumbs. “You deserve every bit of good that comes your way, Jake. Even me and I am not going anywhere.” Even after he’d confessed, she wanted—no, needed to be sure. “Can I… kiss you?” she asked gently.

He nodded softly and let out a breathy, “Yeah,” before they finally met in the middle. Despite what the movies would say, there weren’t any sparks. No, as their lips met it felt right—like coming home. The kiss was delicate as their lips pressed against each other, molding together in a way that felt like it was meant to be. Gaining confidence, Jessie deepened the kiss, pouring all of her love into the act.

When they finally pulled away, he leaned his forehead against hers, both of their eyes remaining shut as they breathed each other in. “I love you too,” she professed. “Ever since then.”

He leaned forward to sneak in another kiss, a smug grin on his face as he pulled away and hummed with content. “Could’ve been doing this all this time?”

A mirroring grin grew on Jessie’s face at his question. “Don’t get too cocky now, Hangboy.”

His eyebrows raised in intrigue at the new nickname. “Hangboy?”

“Mhm,” she cheekily hummed, biting her lip before gently placing her lips on his once again, Jake grinning into the kiss. He could get used to this.

bonus:

The feeling of her phone buzzing repeatedly in her back pocket caused her to reluctantly pull away, Jake groaning in disappointment. As she pulled her phone from her pocket, the screen lit up with text messages, all from Bradley.

Roo: where'd you go??? Roo: jake's gone too, is he with you? Roo: oh my god he's with you isn't he Roo: please tell me he's with you Roo: hellooo??? Roo: fine don't answer me wtv...

"Who is it?" Jake curiously asked, trying to peer over to look at the screen.

"Just Bradley."

"What does he want?"

"Nothing. He was just letting me know they got everyone home," she lied, sending Bradley a quick thumbs up and putting her phone on silent before placing it down. Jake's eyes narrowed, but he quickly shook it off as she leaned in once again.

Roo: you better update me tomorrow Roo: don't do anything i wouldn't do!!

A/N: ending off in true romcom fashion with a kiss!! if you didn't catch it, tiny aspects of the ending were inspired by one of my fav movies, set it up, if you really read into it ;) i hope you enjoyed reading this series as much as i did writing it. again, my requests are always open for ideas! <3

the playlist || taglist: @dempy @bellaireland1981 @princessashley99 @whateverbagman @blairfox04 @blue-aconite @captainmoonknight (some ppl were tagged bc i remember ygs from the og posts & thought i'd update yall! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged anymore!)

[lovers-tucked-into-a-quiet-cafe]

4th of July Special [IKYLHT]

~2.9k Words | Series Masterlist | Prev | Next Chapter [Coming Soon]

Hope you enjoy this very very overdue special chapter. It's part of the larger timeline of the story but considering we just had the 4th not too long ago I figured I'd post what I had so far just to keep you held over until chapter 8 is finished. It will very much be expanded upon in due time. Much love

-

There are three holidays you force yourself to celebrate as an active member of the military.

Veterans Day, the obvious.

Memorial Day, also obvious.

And the great ol’ 4th of July. Independence Day, a celebration of our great freedoms, our national pride.

More importantly- a day filled with beer, fireworks, and a rack of ribs, all without the threat of having to clock in that morning.

The boys had called you a yank when you’d first suggested it, mentioned something about the ridiculousness of the American desire to clog your arteries while lighting shit on fire.

The sweat of the 98° day dripping down Johnny's back, soon to be washed away by cool pool water. An ice cooler filled with Coronas, freshly cut limes on the table. Slow cooked rack of ribs on each plate while the burgers sizzle on the grill. These were things you’d pitched to the boys only moments before they’d laughed in your face.

The idea of leaving the Queen’s land to shack it up with a bunch of blue-coats celebrating the day they’d left the commonwealth felt blasphemous, especially for Simon and Price, the true patriots they are. Kyle didn’t care much, he’d actually been quite excited to visit the US again. The west coast was unexplored to him, and he’d be lying if the prospect of seeing a few celebrities during his stay in California didn’t excite him. Truthfully, Johnny would take any chance to subtly spite the Brits. He’s a proper Scot, after all.

But you’d pushed the idea hard.

It was Sparks’ annual 4th of July barbeque and there was no way in hell you were going to run the risk of missing him lose a finger trying to light the extra explosive fireworks he’d bought after a mission in Texas.

You’d gone that route first- having Shane call Price to personally invite the task force to his home in San Diego with the promise of good food and drinks. When the invitation didn’t seem to make it to the group chat, you’d stepped up your game. You thought maybe a polite Captain-to-Captain request from Griggs would suffice. It did not.

Fortunately, you were in the perfect position to seal the deal.

“You know, I just think it’d be a great team bonding activity.”

You hear his groan as your movement stops, feel the way his hands fly up to grasp at your waist, but you ignore him entirely.

“I don’t understand why you insist on impeding my job, John. I thought it was a captain’s duty to assist his subordinates?”

His fingers dig into your hips, trying their best to move you but you keep yourself steadily perched atop his lap.

“I think this is team bonding enough, love.”

You look around the room, turning your head as far as you can in each direction, before you settle your eyes on his form once more.

“I don’t see the rest of them. Seems like it’s just you and me here, Price.”

A small moan he clearly tried to conceal slips out as you lean forward, planting your hands on his sweaty chest and feeling the way his heart quickly patters. The bed shifts under you, sheets molten hot with your combined heat.

“Want me to go get them? I can roam the base in search of them. Would be faster if I skipped getting redressed-”

“-Alright, alright. I’m listening.”

You go to speak but shoot him a stern glance as you feel him attempt to move from under you.

The coy smile he lets out feeds your soul, his cheeks flushed from exertion, eyes hungry with want.

“We’re going.”

He laughs, eyes glancing down to where he throbs inside you.

“You think this is the best time to bring this back up, sweetheart?”

Shifting enough to make his breath hitch, you flash your own big smile.

“I do.”

Glancing at his watch, he quietly huffs as he mulls over his options.

“California?”

“Yes”

“During peak travel season…”

“Yup”

“For a holiday only you celebrate?”

“In a country you don't wanna revisit. I know, it’s not ideal.”

“So we’re doing it because?”

“Because it’s for me, John. We’re doing it for me. So I can go home.” Your smile is pleading.

He gives a small nod, lifting your hand off his chest and kissing the back of it.

“Okay. I’ll call Sparks and let him know we’re coming.”

“It’s okay! I’ll just text him-” You can’t control your smile, damn near flying off the bed to grab your phone if it weren’t for Price hooking an arm around you and flipping you beneath him.

“-You can text him once we’re done here. I still have another fifteen minutes with you.”

Admittedly, you didn’t call Shane until the following morning.

With Price on your side, it was easy getting everything in order. He dealt with the logistics- plane tickets, hotels, rental cars- while you did the fun part.

Helping the boys pack.

Kyle was by far the easiest. He naturally had good style, all you’d needed to do was inform him of the typical San Diego weather and how to transition those outfits into something a little cooler for when you’d venture up to Los Angeles.

Simon and Price came next. Simon’s was physically easier, just more mental gymnastics. Despite being in many’a hot biome before, he refused to admit his all black ensemble just wouldn’t do. Cargo pants and combat boots weren’t adequate pool party attire, especially when you knew he’d want to prove his usefulness attending to anything he possibly could (you prayed Shane had fixed the dishwasher leak or you knew you wouldn’t be seeing Simon until well past sunset). Price was more physically demanding. He didn’t care much what you dressed him in, he trusted you enough to ensure he stepped outside looking handsome- you’re 99% sure someone had told him about the ‘girlfriend effect’ and he just ran with it. The difficult part was actually buying the clothes. He had no problem handing his card over, but he didn’t seem to want to send sizes, measurements, color preferences, anything of use. You’d resorted to taking a measuring tape to his biceps as he oversaw drill exercises, the width of his shoulders as he sat doing paperwork, the length of each limb as he stood at the gym’s cable machine.

Johnny was quite a bit more difficult. Having been to your home in LA a few times before, he knew how hot it’d get in the dead of summer and thus decided it was prime time to dress in nothing but swim trunks and his favorite pair of vans. Despite being told numerous times that he’d need to pack at least one shirt, every time you checked his suitcase that shirt seemed to have vanished. Your only saving grace was Price’s scolding when he’d gone over the group’s tax write offs and seen the recurring £5.25 Tesco charge for a single men’s t-shirt.

Still, somehow you’d all managed to make it in one piece. And best of all, without a single complaint.

Price stood at the grill chatting with Griggs about various meat charring techniques while Ghost supervised refereed the game of chicken Soap and Gaz were playing with the rest of the Demon Dogs.

The liquor was free flowing and gave you the opportunity to utilize this annual event for what it truly was- a chance to check up on everyone.

And who better to do it with than your closest confidant and his therapist wife.

Convenient, really.

“How’ve you been, kid?”

Nodding as you glance over at Johnny balancing Kyle upon his shoulders, you can’t help but smile.

“We’ve had our moments. Can’t complain, though.”

Alison nods, and you see her head tilt ever so slightly. She’s going into work mode as best she can without raising your suspicions. She’s well trained, probably what’s saved her marriage with Shane. To her dismay, you are also well trained.

“How do you see your future together?"

“Alison, you'd know better than most that people like us don’t get futures.”

“You can spare her the melodramatic self loathing, she’ll just whack you upside the head.”

She glares at Shane’s retort, gives him that ‘stop joking I’m trying to fix shit’ look you’ve seen so many times before.

“I guess I haven’t thought about it. Genuinely. I think it’ll be good though. I love him… and all that mushy shit you’re dying to hear me say.”

“Okay. Well, that’s a start. What about the rest of the task force? Do you think you work well as a team?”

“Oh yeah, we’re a well oiled machine. My doing, of course. Successful or not, our missions can always be described as top tier.”

“And how about off-mission? Do you get along with everyone?”

You fight the urge to glance over at the four men whose hands you’d put your entire life into in more ways than one.

“Uh, yeah. We’re good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah.” You shrug.

Her response is cut off before she could even start it, two shorts car honks bouncing off the wood of the open side gate leading to the front of the property. She cranes her neck to see the car from her position in the backyard, just catching the conversation between Raines and his wife as they begin to unload the car.

Alison turns back to you after waving hello, pointing a finger and making a stern face.

“We’re not done here.”

“Aye Aye ma’am.” You jokingly salute her as you internally thank Raines’ kids for making him late to every event he’s ever been invited to.

You and Shane wave to the couple as she walks up to say her greetings, Shane walking towards the cooler to grab two beers.

“I warned her against interrogating you. But we all know how she feels about listening to me.”

“She’s lucky. She’s the only one that can ignore you and call you a dumbass without repercussion. Sometimes I envy her.”

Popping off the cap, he makes his way to two lounger seats off in the corner of the fenced backyard, plopping down with a sigh.

“Gonna have to retire soon. Or take up being a desk jockey. Whatever keeps my knees from going out.”

“Not showing up to your PT appointments, Sparks? I do recall you scolding me for doing the same.”

“I’ve been showing up, that’s the problem. Ain’t bouncing back like I used to.”

You nod in understanding. You’re not even that old and the aches had already settled in. The military really does take your best years.

“Alright, kid. Enough stalling. How’ve you really been doing?”

“I told you, Johnny and I have been good-”

“-I don’t mean your relationship. I know you two are doing good. God knows I’d be getting a call from MacTavish asking how to fix it if y’all weren’t. I mean about the mission.”

“Oh. Yeah, no. It was fine. It’s over.”

“Heard it was a rough one up top.”

“Uh, yeah. Always is, I guess. We would’ve loved to have traded places with you.”

“Don’t underestimate the stairs, kid. Was damn near out of breath by the time we’d gotten up there.”

You let out a hum, more of an acknowledgement than an agreement.

“I know it’s hard for you to sit and watch. But you gotta remember your roots, Water.”

A snort escapes you, humor and nostalgia behind it.

“Haven’t heard you call me that in what, five years?”

“You retired it. You may call me an asshole but I do have a heart.”

“Well-”

“-Don’t change the subject, Carrots.”

“You know I’m still mad you told Kyle-”

“-Rabbit. Come on. Talk to me, kid.”

He stares you down, gives that same stern look you’d always seen after cracking a joke a little too soon after a mission gone awry.

“Nightmares?”

“A couple.” You murmured with a shrug.

“Just a couple?”

“A few.” You manage another murmur.

He studies your side profile a moment longer before trailing his eyes towards your line of vision.

Kyle sits on the pool ledge right where the deep end becomes standable again, using his dry hand to feed Johnny chips from the paper plate he teeters on his thigh. Every time Soap gestures as he speaks, pool water flings from his position standing in front of Kyle’s shins and onto the plate.

Shane thinks back to the first time you’d shown up to an event like this. He watched you, a newly-appointed baby-faced private first class awkwardly clutching a plate with a burger you had no intention of eating, and was reminded of how out of place you had felt in this small sliver of normalcy.

He thinks back to how utterly determined you seemed to not make friends, to not form attachments.

He thinks back to how, despite your reservations, you found yourself slowly easing into the environment.

Despite being so quick to adapt, you’d never been fond of change. And you couldn’t be more different now from the person you were before.

He thinks about how embarrassing it was for you to admit you'd even been having nightmares, let alone what they were about.

“Ok kid. I’ll let you avoid interrogation for now. No use in ruinin’ a good barbeque.”

You pat his knee with an appreciative smile before you heave yourself out of the low chair, setting your sights back onto Kyle as he rejoins Johnny in the pool.

“Hey Rabbit?” You hear Sparks call out after you.

You look back at him over your shoulder.

“Yeah?”

You look at his blank face. You’ve known Shane long enough to tell he doesn’t want to spook you off but is begging for answers. He's giving you the opportunity to tell him on your own volition, no questions asked.

There’s a small demon resting in the back of your throat. He decides now’s a good time to carve at your esophagus. He urges you to spit it out so he can escape his imprisonment in your windpipe. To say what can’t be retracted, to just get it out there.

You stay silent, facing forward again and walking up to Price. He scrubs char off the grill rack, seemingly abandoned by Griggs.

That answers who lost the coin toss.

“Hey Cap,” You bump shoulders with him, tugging on the string of his boonie hat that rests against the back of his neck.

“Hey sweetheart” He mumbles back.

“You look handsome” You whisper with a giddy smile.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm”

“Hungry yet?”

“Only for you, big daddy” You manage to get out between a laugh and an over the top wink, just narrowly missing the way he goes to swat at you.

“Behave, Rabbit.”

“I always do, sir” You nearly purr.

As the earlier heat of the day began to cool, the sky painted itself in hues of orange and pink. You were finally feeling contentment settle deep into your bones. Your favorite part was soon and very much worth skipping your main meal, even if Price disagreed.

You and Soap had helped set up a small fire pit in the center of the yard- marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars all laid out for s’mores. Kyle, still somewhat in subdued awe of the whole spectacle, watches from your left as the others talked around the fire, their faces illuminated by the steady flame. You watched the way his eyes constantly bounced around, so deeply invested in the stories of your comrades.

Johnny sits between you and Ghost, his usual spot for the last nine months or so since Las Almas. You go to search for Price but are almost startled out of your seat as his arm misses your face by about two inches, draping over your lap a red checkered blanket he’d found thrown over one of the lawn chairs.

You grab his shirt by the collar before he gets the chance to pull away, pulling him down to kiss his cheek.

It was risky, there was no guarantee everyone outside of you five had been distracted by the sudden start of the neighbors fireworks, but you couldn’t really find it in yourself to care at that moment.

Grabbing the metal rod Johnny holds out for you, you shove the marshmallow on the prongs and lick the stickiness off your fingertips. You’d always hated the residue, but the practicality of Johnny hand feeding you the squishy candy didn’t negate how sickeningly adorable it was to witness.

“Care for a s’more, Ghost?” you asked, leaning forward and holding out a stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow.

He looked at the stick, then at you, and finally at the fire. It was a simple, almost childlike gesture, but there was something undeniably comforting about it. He took the stick from you with a small nod.

Johnny was already assembling the graham crackers and chocolate for him, adding an additional little chocolate square in the center.

Simon holds the dessert, examining it on all sides before looking up at the group before him. No one is paying any attention to the three of you, something you’d requested from both your old team and Price and Gaz.

You nod as encouragingly as you can when he scans the group once more, whispering just enough to be heard by him.

“It’s alright Simon. Go ahead.”

His black surgical mask is only down for a second before half his face is covered again, now with significantly more graham cracker crumbs settling at the bottom of it then before.

He hands the s’more back over to Johnny as he nods his head.

“See? Not so bad, right?”

Ghost looked over at you, your face illuminated by the soft glow of the firelight, and nods once more. “Not bad at all.”

Soap, munching on the last of the s’more, looks over with a smirk.

“Told ya. Next time, we’ll get you on karaoke.”

Simon goes completely deadpan but chuckles softly.

“We’ll see about that.”

-

<3

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