#who let them file the paperwork

[sweetie-peaches]

I still can’t believe Tommy and tubbo are going to /court/ over the marriage. Like..how did this happen? Where in our timeline was this a possibility.

Who gets what in the divorce

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

"One of the clerks is already dawning up a schedule," Kel said, and grinned. "I love clerks. I'd marry them all if I could." - Lady Knight by Tamora Pierce, chapter 7, pg. 147.

^ the REAL reason Kel is the best and most relatable character ever- her biggest turn on is efficiency used specifically to make people's lives better and easier. Kingdom of Tortall, hurry up and legalize queer polycules so our lady in asexual armor can have the best most amazing relationship in history

[coridallasmultipass]

I am once again begging online shop payment processing companies to allow me to enter a separate name for shipping and separate name for billing!!

It's the same address, I'm just trans and have not legally changed my personal name, but I still prefer to receive mail as my preferred name! Like it's literally my professional name, I do business as my preferred name.

Annoying as fuck, and I don't want to chance my bank rejecting the payment (though I'm sure someone at my bank has put a note to allow it on my account by now, since I've contacted them a couple times before when I realized too late that the billing section didn't let me input another "address/name" section, and they said the payment was fine in those cases.)

Anyway, legal name changes should be free and non-advertised for everyone. Tbh, you should get a free name change every time you file your taxes on time as an incentive for good citizen behaviour. Once I am elected pres-

[bi-writes]

cw: protective!ghost, allusions to civilian!reader being (physically) assaulted at work (18+)

"l-lieutenant?"

ghost is nearly startled by the little voice that practically squeaks behind him. he's been huddled in his office for too long, driving himself mad with paperwork and sergeants too stupid for their own good. he blinks, turning around, and he blinks when he sees you there in the doorway, hands shaking as you try and collect yourself.

when he looks carefully under the fluorescent lights, he can see there are tears in your eyes. it's then that he notices how you look, really look. there's a bruise blossoming on your jaw, the skin swelling a bit where there's a cut on your lip. your shirt is askew, and you're panting and sweating, like you've been running. he's never seen you this way. fuck, he barely sees you at all, except when he goes out during drills, and he's only ever spoken to you once or twice, just to receive some papers or to excuse himself as he tries to get around you in a crowded hallway. you are always quiet, always shy, smiling at him if you are near and trying to keep out of the way.

he doesn't know why it enrages him to see you in this state, but it does.

"the fuck happened t'ya?" he rasps, and he realizes it comes out harsher than he means. he isn't used to being nice.

the slamming of a door against a wall keeps you from answering. just like that, you're moving, about to scramble away, run, when ghost reaches out and grabs your wrist. he tugs you towards him, just quick enough that whoever is coming for you skids into the doorway.

it's a sergeant he recognizes. cocky, full of shit, who never hits his target. he's big, but not as big as ghost. he pauses when he realizes where you are and who you're with, skidding backwards as he tries to contain his anger.

"wot the fuck is goin' on?" ghost snaps, and you sputter, not able to make out your words properly.

"'m sorry, lieutenant," the sergeant huffs. "i'll take care of this."

when he lunges for you, ghost shoves you behind him, tilting his head to the side as he stares down at the little shit.

"did i fuckin' tell ya t'move?" ghost growls. "this how ya answer ta y'r superior, you fuckin' knob?"

"no," he spits back, but his eyes flash when ghost puts a gloved hand against his chest and pushes him back far enough to put appropriate distance between them.

"did y'hit this civilian?" ghost asks, a humorless laugh leaving him. when the sergeant doesn't respond, ghost turns finally, looking at you, and he clicks his tongue to get your eyes on him. "did he put his hands on ya?"

you tremble a little, moving the back of your hand over your eyes before nodding. you don't really register what happens next. you see blood on the tips of your kitten heels one moment, and you cover your eyes the next.

in the bathroom later that evening, ghost is careful as he dabs at your lip gently with a cool cloth. he has taken the gloves off (they were soaked with blood), and you try not to shiver as he holds your face with one big hand and cleans you up with the other. you can see the shadow of tattoos peeking out from under his sleeve.

"why'd y'come t'me?" he asks after a few minutes. you blink up at him, swallowing hard, and he stands back a little to get a better look at you.

"i've read your file," you whisper, looking down, a bit ashamed. "i just thought...you'd understand."

or maybe you wondered what he would do if he found out.

he hums a little, and you miss the feeling of his touch as soon as he lets go of you, washing his hands at the sink. you fixate on his stature, his size. the thick of his thighs, how the holsters there bulge and stretch to try and hold onto him.

just as he starts to leave, you stand from your seat, making your way to him. he hears you, stopping, and you hold onto his bicep gently as you get on your toes to kiss his cheek. he flinches a little, but he relaxes finally, leaning in for you to kiss him there again. when your eyes meet again, you think you see something there.

he kicks the door closed with his boot, trapping you in the room with him. you smile when the lock clicks.

[benevolentbones]

Hi ✨️✨️

Emily's sister likes Reid and flirts with him a lot before asking him out and he's all shy.

your type | spencer reid x prentiss!reader

warnings: none really, alcohol consumption, flirting

word count: 1.7k

a/n: hi!! hope you enjoy nervous spencer :) love him. reblogs and comments appreciated <3

half team were sitting around the office, finishing off the last of their paperwork for the night, it was a friday night and a certain member of the team was growing bored of filing away the never ending pile of reports. hotch, jj and gideon had already left for the night, leaving the rest of the team to finish off the workload.

emily leaned back in her desk chair, her red long sleeve shirt complimenting her complexion as she tucked her dark locks behind her ears.

“it’s friday night- we should go out and do something fun. lets go to a bar.” emily spoke, interrupting the sound of keyboards clacking and paper shuffling.

“i agree, let’s get out of here.” derek grinned, standing up from his seated position to have a well deserved stretch, his shoulder making a popping sound as he did so.

“reid, you in?”

spencer adjusted his posture at the sound of his name, his head turning towards his colleagues.

“i don’t know guys- i kind of wanted to read ‘the history of torture’ by george riley scott.” he responded, scratching the back of his head.

“the history of torture? on a friday night?” derek shot spencer a confused expression.

“just a bit of light reading.” spencer shrugged.

“nope, i want you guys to meet my sister, she’s a bartender at this new place down the road. it’ll be fun.” emily stood up, grabbing her bag that sat under her desk.

“but-“

“you can read tomorrow, right now it’s time for you to socialise. morgan text garcia, let’s go.”

spencer found himself sitting in the backseat of emily’s car as she drove downtown, derek sat in the front. penelope had replied saying she would meet everyone there.

“i don’t see why the child locks were necessary.” spencer mumbled, pulling on the inside door handle.

“shh. we’re almost here.” emily pulled up next to bar, there was a group of people standing outside cigarettes resting between their index and middle fingers. clouds of smoke plumed into the night sky, through the hazy air a neon sign read ‘the wine seller’.

emily unlocked the car, stepping out and strutting her way to the entrance, derek and spencer following close behind. in the midst of all the smoke stood garcia, her blonde hair tied in space buns with a blue polkadot dress adorning her form.

“are we ready to party!” she exclaimed, clearly she had already had a drink or two.

everyone stumbled into the bar, immediately a wave of noise washed over them. i’m the centre of it all, people were dancing on each other flashing lights casting rays of colour over their sweaty bodies.

“is your sister cute?” derek questioned emily over the loud music.

she rolled her eyes in response. “you could say that.”

“what’s her type?” he grinned, scanning the bar.

“oh you’ll see.” emily chuckled.

spencer rolled his shoulders nervously, trailing behind emily who was making a b line for the bar. she called out to a girl who was facing the shelves full of liquor.

“y/n!”

you whipped your head around to see where the voice had come from, a grin immediately forming when you saw your older sister stood at the bar.

“emily! finally made it out of the office i see.” you chuckled, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the shelf and pouring it into a shot glass for the man that stood at the bar. he nodded as a thank you and made his way back to the dance floor.

“it’s busy in here wow.” emily muttered, eyes scanning the room as she rested her hands on the bar counter.

“mhm i sure know how to bring in a crowd, what can i get for you and… you lot?” you peered around at the three people behind you. penelope rushed to emily’s side giving you a big smile.

“oh right, this is penelope, derek and spencer, from the bau.” you gave everyone a small smile, your eyes lingering on the taller hazel eyed man who stood awkwardly behind emily.

“i’ll take a pink gin and lemonade.” she shouted over the music, you nodded with a smile and reached for the gin.

derek strolled over to the counter, eyeing you as you picked up a gin glass.

“i’ll just have a whiskey.” he shot you a grin which you returned.

“make that two.” emily added, rooting in her bag for her wallet.

you made the drinks and laid them out along the counter for the team to take.

“and for the cutie in the back?” your voice travelled to spencer who seemed caught off guard by your comment.

“uh- me? uh i’ll have i uh- vodka soda.” he stuttered out, heat rising to his face.

“whatever you want sweetheart.” you shot him a wink and began to make his drink.

emily turned her focus to derek who was sipping at his drink.

“i see why you wanted to bring reid here so bad.” he laughed, and then dragged garcia to the dance floor.

“y/n what time do you get off, will you have a drink with us?” emily asked, taking a gulp of her drink immediately feeling the alcohol’s warmth spread through her body.

“twenty minutes em, then i’m all yours.”

“come find me later!” your older sister yelled out, disappearing into a crowd of warm bodies.

you served up spencer’s drink, passing it to him. he tucked his hair behind his ear before reaching for his wallet to pay.

“don’t worry, it’s on me.” you shot him a charming smile which he returned.

“t-thanks y/n.” he reached for the drink, taking a small sip, before taking a seat at the bar. you raised your eyebrow slightly in surprise, not expecting him to take a seat.

you could tell he was very much out of his element, that everyone had just come from the office. he wore a white striped button up shirt paired with a pair of suit trousers, his tie hung loose around his neck. his big eyes wandered around the room before falling back on you, you had already moved on to making cocktails for a bridal party to his left.

spencer studied your form, your quick movements and ability to multitask in such a busy environment impressed him. you wore a tight black tank top along with a black miniskirt the ended just above your mid thigh, and a small black apron was tied around your waist.

he couldn’t help but stare at your figure as you rushed around the bar, your form fitting clothing showing off every curve to your body, in all honestly he was infatuated.

finally the rush had died down and you were making your way back to your side of the bar to polish more glasses, you noticed spencer’s intense gaze on you and smiled to yourself.

“you like what you see, dr.reid?” you questioned, poking fun.

he immediately pulled his fixed look from your body and up to your eyes.

“i- uh sorry.” he nervously sipped at his drink, feeling embarrassed.

“don’t be, you’re pretty cute yourself.” you shot him a small wink and he felt his face flush.

“so spencer, how are you liking working at the bau?” you quizzed, carrying a stack of glasses to the shelf behind you.

“uh- it’s good, i like that i can help people.” he muttered out a vague answer, which he followed with a question.

“a-and do you like being a bartender?”

you shrugged, wandering back to stand in front of spencer.

“it’s just a part time job, i’m studying criminal psychology right now in college, im in my third year.” this got his attention, he straightened his posture, taking another sip of his drink.

“oh really? that’s so interesting- what do you plan on doing after?” he seemed less anxious now.

“i’m not really sure, might do a masters- it was emily’s suggestion.” you let out a small laugh, spencer longed to hear you laugh more.

“i take it this isn’t really your vibe?” you stated, looking around the bar at people making out and dancing, spencer followed your stare. emily and penelope were in the middle of the dance floor cheering derek on who had now taken his shirt off and was swinging it above his head.

“uh- no not really, i didn’t really plan on coming here tonight, but prentiss- your sister, she kind of child locked me in her car.” he mumbled out, an awkward laugh leaving his mouth.

you pinched your eyebrows, shaking your head and letting out a joking sigh. “she’s trying to set me up.”

“set you up?” he repeated what you had said.

your face warmed as you began to speak, “i broke up with my ex over a year ago and was recently complaining about how i can never meet any decent guys at the bar, because- i mean look.” you gestured to a corner where a group of frat bros were downing their beers.

“and em said she knew someone who would be great for me.” you eyes landing back on spencer.

“you mean me?” he pointed to himself, still somewhat confused.

you nodded. “i mean she managed to guess my type exactly, can’t blame her there.” you now gestured to spencer, his face burning a dark crimson, and it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault.

“i mean i hope you’re single- and i’m not just aimlessly flirting with a taken man. that would be a little embarrassing..” you trailed off, rubbing the nape of your neck, your tank top lifted slightly revealing your midriff.

“i- i yeah i’m single.” spencer couldn’t quite grasp the fact you were flirting with him, on purpose. he honestly thought someone like you would either be in a relationship or have a line of much more attractive men just waiting to take you out.

you smiled at his flustered state, you thought he was adorable.

“well then, dr.reid, would you like to go on a date with me sometime? maybe a café or the park, somewhere not as chaotic as this?” you questioned, you were pretty confident in yourself, which was something that ran in your family.

“yeah…i would like that, a lot.” he smiled at you, you quickly jotted down your number on a piece of paper, passing it to spencer.

your eyes flickered to the watch on your wrist, a smile spreading across your face.

“time for me to clock out, darlin. i’ll be right back.” and with that you skipped off into the back of the bar to grab your things, your heart beating twice as quick.

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid

[anadiasmount]

as time gets close - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: almost close to your due date, what is wrong with a late-night grocery trip with your very excited and anxiously waiting fiance?

wc: 1.8k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: a little dad! jude blurb bc we haven’t seen much of this on the timeline!! like always hope you enjoy 🤍

"why are you bending down? you know that is bad for you," you rolled your eyes at your fiance's scolding, grabbing the keys from the floor. "i dropped the keys by accident," you say as you pick the correct key that belonged to the lock. jude rubbed your belly, ensuring you were okay before helping you out to the car, the reusable bags tucked underneath his arm.

"did you bring the list?" you ask him seeing as he nods and pulls it out from the pockets of his hoodie. "i did. i also brought you some snacks because you didn't eat much after getting some nausea," you pouted your lips leaning up to peck his cheek thanking him. "what would i do without you?" you tease, a playful scoff falling from his lips.

"what makes you think you'd be without me? i'm attached to you for life remember?" he grabs your left hand kissing over your ring finger as he gives you a knowing look. you feel as he brings your intertwined hands to your belly, "and you're carrying my baby in there."

"really i couldn't tell," you say sarcastically.

"let's make it quick because my feet already hurt and i want to sleep," you advised letting out a tired yawn. despite being close to your due date, you still had some work to do before maternity leave. making calls to set meetings, attending them over zoom, filing paperwork, in charge of making sure the firm doesn't backfire, and planning some stuff out for your wedding.

jude had told you multiple times to take it easy, but placing that aside, he always helped you unconditionally. in the shower, when cooking, taking care of chores, before bed, and attending all your doctor's appointments. he was your personal midwife and wanted to take care of you the most he could.

you remembered to look on his face when you told him you were expecting, the tears on his face as he spoke to your barely bump all night and traced his hands on your belly. singing and humming lullabies and stories about his day. since then he wanted to protect you the best he could.

going to the grocery store at this time was nothing new, in fact, it became so prevalent now that you were pregnant because you craved everything. making jude do a late run to pick up your cravings or groceries for the upcoming weeks. the same store, at the same time.

you placed your purse on the cart, snuggling into your jacket as the cold air inside the store blew you away. you followed jude who picked out veggies and greens for his meal prepping, helping him tie the bags and weigh them on the digital scale that produced labels. you watched in awe as your boyfriend picked out three pairs of different flowers. "what are these for?" you asked, smelling the flowery scent.

"for the house. we need to replace the old ones that dried out," jude says with a shy grin. "you were the one who said plants and flowers bring a sense of home into our house, " jude recalled your words, kissing your temple, pushing the cart since it became a bit heavier. "i did say that didn't i? well i wasn't wrong," you shrug, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he trailed along isles to pick up the different items on the list.

he did all the heavy lifting as you reached and picked stuff up from your level, like spices and eggs. you turn your back for a few seconds to retrieve some milk and coffee beans for the morning, to see the cart filled with pop tarts and other salty snacks. "no no no," you shake your head, as jude whines out protests. "y/n we need them! they're even on sale!"

“jude, i don’t care! we just got some three days ago!,” you say laughing, putting back the box of pop tarts. “y/n i’m telling you right now, in a couple of hours or days you’re gonna have me running back here for them,” jude states following behind you.

“am not!” you quickly defend, bringing a hand to your aching back. “are too! last night you had me running out for cheetos. what’s it going to be today? kettled popcorn? or wingstop?” jude teased making you rolls your eyes and focusing back on to what needed to get done. “don’t forget we need to pick some of that acid reflex stuff for you, to get rid of the heartburn,” jude reminds you, taking the cart and walking out of the pop tarts isle, sneaking a box in for you.

“what’s left on the list?” you ask him, taking out a small snack you had in your purse and offering some to jude. “we need bananas, strawberries, orange juice, and meats for upcoming dinners…” jude reads the list one by one, using his index finger as he goes along.

you pass by an isle grabbing some cereal and granola for your yogurts and bowls. jude insisting he grabs his favorite too since you refuse to share from your part. as you wait by the deli section jude come behind you, grabbing your belly and relieving some of the pressure.

you immediately lay your head back on his shoulder sighing in relief, hearing jude chuckle and place a kiss on your head. “almost there darling,” he whispered running one of his hands along your tummy. “i know what you’re doing jude… and if this baby starts kicking right now i’ll leave you here,” you warn.

“i’m just trying to help you love. doesn’t it feel good?” he reprimanded as you nodded. “yes but not when she starts kicking, i swear she does it on purpose and it’s your fault. like she knows it you,” you said feeling your lower back less tense and heavy. "i kid you not, last night she almost made me pee from this hard kick!"

"sounds to me like we have a mini footballer coming into our lives," said jude continuing to hold your belly since you were tired and your baby was heavy. he had read the method online with other tips and tricks. jude got more into reading when he found out you were pregnant, wanting to know every effect and secret to ensure a healthy and safe pregnancy.

"let's hope not, i don't think i could handle cleaning up broken stuff around the house every day," you sigh, releasing yourself from his hold because you began to get hot. you didn’t understand how your body was so quick to adjust and then de-adjust from hot and cold, but it was so easy and it drove you mad sometimes.

“you okay?” jude softened his eyes as you let out a breath of despair, holding your hand and feeling a sit squeezed tightly against his. “yeah just got a mini cramp,” you held your back and practiced breathing methods you learned, “i’m good, i promise,” you kiss his hand before retrieving the meats from the butcher. "we'll get home soon, and i promise you a warm tea and massage okay?"

"did you want chocolate or strawberry milk?" jude held up the pint containers, "strawberry, we still have chocolate milk at home," you said, jude nodding as he quickly picked the orange juice and your favorite yogurts. "i was never a fan of sweet or flavored milk but these are soooo good," you exaggerated, jude smiling hard down at you.

"never a fan? these were my childhood as a kid! my mum used to buy these or the powder to make it ourselves," jude says recalling a old memory thinking of his babygirl. "you reckon she'll like them too?" jude spoke softly as he saw you give him a fast nod. if there was one thing loved it was discussing his babygirl. he was so anxious and wanted to meet her. the itch in his teeth getting bigger as every day passes.

to hold her while she slept, hug her to keep her warm, coddle her to sleep, feed her. he was ready for it all. he loved to shop and spoil her already. her carrier, crib, different books, toys, and stuffed animals like he had as a kid. she didn't know it yet, but she would be jude's second best friend. firstly you. always you.

they saw if one ever finds love at first sight, and jude definitely did with you. a smile so bright, eyes gleaming with happiness, a stranger who he fell madly with almost immediately after hearing her say hello. through ups and downs, you found your way to each other and since then, it's a love story for the movies. jude had his career blowing, a beautiful fiancee, and now a baby on the way. what more could he want?

as jude helped bag the groceries into the recycled bags you had, you paid and thanked the cashier whom you got close with on nights like these. asking how her day was, about her kids, anything special, always something to distract her. "you two have a safe night!" she yelled as you turned and thanked, wishing her a good night as well.

after you insisted on helping, you carried four light bags as jude carried most bags since he hated double trips. you guys quickly unpacked everything, longing and wishing to get into bed. you ensure the stove and other appliances are off, grabbing your tea and heading upstairs with jude.

"lay here for me," jude instructed, grabbing some cream and begging to smooth and massage out the muscles on your legs and shoulders. "after we have her, i promise i'll return every single thing you did for me while i was pregnant," you say struggled and full pleasure as the tension went away at jude's fingertips. "oh i'm fully expecting the injured boyfriend method again," jude teased as he finished up.

he grabbed a new book, laying on your side as you brushed and played with a few curls on his head, twirling them around your finger as he breathed softly. he looked so gentle and full of excitement like this, reading to your babygirl, who sensed her daddy's voice as she kicked. she knew, she always knew.

he applied your belly oil to prevent any stretch marks and kissed the small ones that formed along the way. jude cherished your body for carrying his baby in there, for being able to give and bring a new life into his and yours. you laid on your side, jude's chest connecting and fitting the crevasse on your back, holding your tummy as in a way to keep it safe.

you placed and locked hands with his, as jude wishing you a goodnight, peering kissed on your shoulders then finally lips, moaning in delight, a tiny groan leaving his lips. "i love you so much darling," he whispered, kissing your temple and snuggling into you more. "iloveyoutoojude," you said fast, with a playful smile on your lips as you felt a familiar sensation of a certain craving. "okay now i do want some pop tarts..."

"are you serious right now?"

[avis-writeshq]

Hi! Can I request track one? :)

Spencer Reid being so shy to ask Fem! Reader out so Morgan flirts with them to push him to do it?:(

pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: friends to lovers warnings: not proof read :( a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3 wc: 700

Spencer isn’t entirely sure why he’s so upset. He’s got his lips drawn to a pout and his eyes are set on the computer in front of him. He chalks it up to the fact that his contact lenses have been drying out. That must be it.

“Stare any harder and you’ll break the screen.”

You’re giggling at his unhappiness, but he doesn’t feel an ounce of annoyance. In moments you’re placing a steaming cup of tea onto his desk with a tiny pitcher of milk, before swiping a few of his files off his pile. 

“You don’t–”

“Hush, Spencer. You probably have filled more overtime hours in the past week than I have in the last four years. Let me take these off of you, okay?” You smile at him before leaning down to murmur into his ear, “They’re probably Morgan’s anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

Spencer flushes, his cheeks warming to a pretty pink at your closeness and he can smell your vanilla perfume. Every thought in his brain vanishes and he’s pretty sure that he won’t be able to think for the next hour or so. His mouth opens and closes like a broken hinge and you walk away to sit at your own desk. 

“When’s the wedding?” Derek asks through a snicker, reaching a hand out and ruffling Spencer’s already unkempt hair. 

“Wh– stop,” Spencer manages weakly, pushing his bangs out of the way and huffing. “Keep your voice down.”

“Didn’t you say that you wanted to ask her to see that Russian film festival or something?” Derek asks, unrelenting. He gestures to the two tickets poking out of one of Spencer’s book. “You already bought them?”

“I won them,” he corrects, scowling. “Stop laughing!”

“Dude, you have to ask her out,” Derek tries again. “Kid, I’m serious. A girl like that isn’t going to wait around forever.”

Spencer’s annoyance is quick to dissipate into flusteredness, and he avoids his friend’s gaze. “She shouldn’t have to.”

“Come on, don’t beat yourself up. Just go talk to her.”

His efforts are in vain as Spencer huffs again and turns back to his paperwork. Morgan shrugs, flexing his arms. It’s far too early to be dealing with Spencer’s shyness and pining. Morgan watches as he sneaks yet another look in your direction, and it takes a lot in him to not throw the two of you together. Emily keeps reminding him to be patient. Penelope keeps informing him that ‘they’ll get together in their own time’. Hotch would spare him a stern look. 

They’re not in the room, though.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

Morgan’s call out is enough for you to raise your head and for Spencer’s face to morph into look of genuine betrayal. He’s frantically moving his hand across his neck as a very obvious sign to cut it out. Morgan pays him no mind.

“What’s up?” You ask brightly, finishing your sentence before turning to look at him. “Did you need something?”

“You’re looking particularly gorgeous today, you know that?” Derek wears a lazy smirk as he looks at you up and down, and you only manage to laugh.

“Ha ha.” You roll your eyes, glancing briefly at Spencer who could have been mistaken for a cherry. “What are you playing at, Morgan?”

The man claps his hands together, rubbing his palms. “Are you free tomorrow night? I’ve got a bottle of wine that has our names on it.”

Spencer looks aghast. He recalls the information on the tickets he had won, and– tomorrow night. That’s when the film festival is happening. 

“She doesn’t drink,” Spencer butts in before you can respond, snatching the tickets from the inside of his book and getting up from his seat to make his way over to you. “I was um– I’ve got these tickets for a film festival tomorrow. It’s in Russian, but I can whisper the translations to you so you understand. You don’t– you don’t have to go. I know it might not be your thing–”

“I’d love to go, Spence.” You smile at him, plucking one of the tickets from his hands. “A whole evening with you? Who wouldn’t enjoy that? Sorry, Derek.”

Derek raises his hands in surrender, and when you aren’t looking, shoots Spencer a thumbs up. Penelope would be proud. 

reblogs are always appreciated !

events page

[thisiswhereikeepdcthings]

How many times do you think Goons have offered to leave their bosses and work for the Bats? I'm just imagining Red Robin having a half-dozen petty crooks promise to work for him so long as he keeps them safe from the Penguin and he just sighs and directs them to the Red Hood.

Goons: Please, I don't want to be evil anymore! Let me join you, I bet you have dental!

Robin, sighing: You want Hood. He'll help you file the paperwork.

Tim: Uh, why’d you just Venmo me $6,000?

Jason: Oh, that’s just your commission for this month.

Tim: My what now?

Steph now has pamphlets on hand to distribute to any goons who show even the slightest interest and has funded her entire college education from this.

Cass demands payment in ice cream, baked goods, and steak.

Damian tried to argue for kittens but settles for homemade dog treats and bladed weapons.

Dick didn’t know this was a thing until one of Hood’s guys calls him because Nightwing was listed as a reference.

Duke went out and got full-on hired by Jason and now Bruce is trying to dissuade him from including being a recruiter for Red Hood as work experience on his college application.

[ma1dita]

said he likes crazy

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 2.1k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where only he can help you with a bad day, even if he's been avoiding you since your first kiss. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: SAID HE LIKES CRAZY GIRLS, BUT HE HATES WHEN I ACT CRAZY guys i didnt sleep for this pls tell me its ok

(posted 1/29/24, beta’d by the lovely ellie @lixzey )

—

He’s been avoiding you. 

To be specific, Luke’s been running away from you. Typical son of Hermes, and a typical teenage boy at that. But if anyone’s asked you what’s up (which, they all have, after almost 4 years of seeing you two not go a day without bickering), it’s just easier to say you’ve been busy.

Okay, so perhaps you’ve been avoiding him too.

Annabeth clocked you as soon as you turned tail after almost bumping into him after archery practice. Damn children of Athena; it’d be nice if they weren’t so perceptive sometimes.

“What did he do this time?” she pipes up, filling the silence of the Big House. It’s late now, and the cabin counselors’ meeting just ended.

“Seeing as you’re the one helping me with the paperwork tonight and not him, you can take a good guess, Annie,” you sigh.

Honestly though, who the fuck kisses someone senseless and then runs away? (Luke Castellan, that’s who.) You weren’t sure what to make of it. You’re a daughter of chaos, after all, not love. But if there’s anyone who can read your emotions better than yourself, it’s him. 

Annabeth stares at her idiot brother through the window as he wanders in the grass outside the Big House.

“That bad, huh?”

“He’s just…being Luke,” you say, blinking slowly as you shuffle through the last of the files you need to put on your dad’s desk before you mutter, “I’m just having a bad day.”

A noise of concern makes its way up Annabeth’s throat. You haven’t had a bad day in a while, in all honesty, not one that makes you act like this, admittedly not one that makes you act like you— the daughter of Dionysus, god of insanity, and not the daughter of Mr. D, camp director.

It was just a bad day until it turned into a bad week, and the voices in your head were starting to get loud without Luke distracting you. Because that’s what he ultimately is, a distraction from your camp duties. 

There’s so much to do and so little time, however, that you hide away your microexpressions that seem to be clawing at you from the inside. The anger, the mania, the hurt. If you unleash it, only the gods can predict how much of camp would be affected by your ‘outbursts’, as your dad likes to call them. Not like you had a choice in the matter. Your days of wreaking havoc are behind you, now presenting yourself as the stellar star of the Camp Half-Blood show. It’s almost a one-woman production with you picking up after your father and trying to tame the traits he passed down.

Thanks for that, D. 

So you give and you give and you give—all your attention and time and effort into keeping camp upright, into being the perfect daughter, that at the end of the day, you’ve drained yourself of who you are with who you try to be.

You look at your tired reflection in the window, before your eyebrow raises at the sight of Luke blending in with the shadows of the tree he’s leaning against. Idiot.

“Annie, would you mind…”

“Yeah, I’ll do cabin checks myself. Might drag your brother to do them with me,” she smiles, patting your arm before grabbing her bag.

“If he complains, let me know. Pollux has heard me bitch enough today.” The small girl raises an eyebrow at that, biting her tongue from responding. You chewed out a lot of people today, acting extra uptight and demanding of the counselors to “just do the right thing.” It was almost insufferable, but despite you trying to hold it in, your emotions bled into their own. Everyone was agitated by the end of the meeting, filing out quickly with biting words and hot tempers. You couldn’t help but notice Luke led them all out of there, and they also somehow got the feeling that he was to blame. 

Smiling at Annabeth in thanks, you watch her walk out to Luke before punching him in the stomach as he grimaces, meeting your violet gaze through the window as he raises a hand. It’s hard to tell if it’s to signal a truce or his embarrassment, but he trudges the way up the path and the door creaks open.

“Heard you were having a bad day,” he mumbles, scratching the nape of his neck. You look at him from the corner of your eye as you continue to write down the weekly to-dos and organize papers for your dad to sign and send back to Zeus.

“Why are you still here, Castellan?”

“So we’re back to that? I thought…” his voice trails off at the sound of his last name, not Luke, not angelface, or anything in between, and both of you are unsure how to proceed. Neither of you have done this before, at least not with each other. You tilt your head to the side, daring him to speak, and it reminds him of a week ago, you bathed in sunlight when he leaned in and kissed you. Though if he did that right now, he’s not sure how you’d react. 

“It’s just a bad day,” you whisper in defeat, lilac eyes wilting in front of him like an overwatered flower.

He realizes then that he cares for you more than he knows how to. And Luke knows what it means when you’re having a bad day.

There’s a deranged look in your eye, a subtle eye twitch and clench of your jaw that is almost insusceptible to the average demigod, but he knows you’re on edge, having taunted you mercilessly until you scream, cry, laugh, or all of the above. But most of all you look tired and in need of someone who knows how it feels to be underappreciated. 

“D’s a great dad to the twins. But I just feel like… maybe he wasn’t meant to be mine,” you whisper, rolling your tongue against the front of your teeth to push back the sob a 14-year-old version of you would let out deep in the dark of cabin 11, having been there for months and knowing Dionysus was your father and waiting for him to see you. To know you. 

“Giving me a hard time about all of this,” you say, hands gesturing to the things you have to prepare for him by morning. You’re overworked, underpaid, and definitely not appreciated— and Luke decides he hates your dad for what he puts you through, not just as a shitty camp director but as a shitty dad. He’s learned to live with the hurt—to use it to fuel his vengeance for how he plans to make the world better. But your ambition makes you change yourself constantly to try to be better. Both fatal flaws are fueled by the ignorance of your fathers. He knows the feeling all too well.

He knows you.

“What do you need?” he asks simply, stepping closer to your form hunched over the desk.

“I can do it, you know. D’s wrong about me,” you whisper, and the words come out sounding so desperate for him to believe the performance you always put on that you avert your eyes.

He doesn’t need to be convinced; instead, he holds his arms out waiting for you to let you make the next move. Luke is neither a fool nor a knave— there are no tricks here, no hidden agenda as he watches you try to compose yourself with a deep breath instead of showing him the real you. The one who’s beneath the mask of being head counselor, your father’s saving grace, and the one who carries her responsibilities like Atlas carries the weight of the sky.

“I know you can. You always have. You really think I’m here to help you file paperwork?”

“Will you let me?” Whether he meant sharing the workload or being there for you, you wouldn’t dare to ask. It’s all the same, anyway—laying yourself bare for someone to peek into your mind and have them not laugh at it.

Suddenly you speak, and the intensity of your tone makes him straighten his posture. 

“Sometimes… Do you ever feel the need to just…”

“What?” He reaches out to tug your hair, and in the dim light, he can see the bloom of your cheeks. You’re shy, and Luke thinks you look soft like this, wary of how he perceives you.

“I shouldn’t.” Fuck the gods. He can see the thought form in your eyes, the heat of your stare tearing through his, and his lips pull into a smirk.

“What was that, Trouble?” 

“Luke, don’t be an asshole…” You say warily, biting the inside of your cheek. There’s no way you’re going down in the history books for cursing the gods because Luke Castellan of all people made you. 

“I thought you liked me like that,” he’s grinning now, and grabbing your chin lightly, mouthing the words to echo your thoughts. 

Fuck the gods.

“Fuck.” you whisper, before your voice fails you, your eyes closing both from his touch and the genuine fear of the heavens falling down from the sacrilege falling from your lips.

“Louder,” he whispers, pulling your face up close to his, “come on, you used to be more fun, Trouble. I believe in you.”

“Fuck!” you say louder and he’s whispering in your ear, urging you to toe the line between perfect child and degenerate.

“Say it again.”

“FUCK! FUCK THE…” you yell before you sigh exasperatedly, eyes widening as you feel the breath release from your chest before your head lolls onto his shoulder. 

“Gods, you’re fucking insane, Castellan.”

He laughs lowly, and it sounds as sweet as sin. Your smiling lips make an imprint on his collarbone, and he wishes they would sear themselves on there for the rest of eternity.

“Hey, I get it from you. Feel better?”

To be seen is a fickle thing. But to be known is something more intimate, and nothing will be able to erase the connection you both share—fatal flaws and all. There are things you can’t change about people, what they are at their core, and so he takes what you hate about yourself with both hands and pulls you towards his chest until you settle against him with a sniffle. Luke tilts your chin up again, a rough thumb wiping away evidence of your watery smile. He thinks he sees a glimpse of a past you—a younger one that dyed his socks purple to make him feel like he belongs here. And he knows now that he does belong with you, right here as he holds you in the quiet of the Big House.

“Ugh, I’ll kiss you later, I still have to finish up here. You’re not off the hook, angelface.” You sigh, pushing away from him before he tugs you back, your feet stumbling as you roll your eyes at his impish expression.

“Let me make it up to you then, Trouble.”

“What, so you run away again?” you scoff, snickering at the sight of his ego being taken down a notch.

“I’ve just….I don’t know how to do all of this with you. Guess I’m worried it won’t meet your expectations, Miss Head Counselor.” A boyish sort of bashfulness crosses his features, and he’s twirling a piece of your hair in his hands like spinning silk.

“I just hope you never stop surprising me. That’s all I ask.”

Your hand touches his wrist lightly, and he sighs like you’ve already taken his breath away.

“I keep my promises. Do you?”

“Who said a kiss was a promise? I meant it as a threat,” you laugh before he’s pressing your hips into the table, nose nudging against yours and suddenly work is off the table for the rest of the night.

You on the table, however, well... that could be negotiated.

“I knew something was wrong with me when your so-called threats got less scary and more sexy,” Luke teases, running a finger on the side of your cheek. His breath tickles your lips, and you can imagine the rage your father would feel if he caught the two of you in his office like this. Besides the blatant defiance, you briefly wonder if your rebellion would get him to respect you more. An interesting thought.

“You’re absolutely terrible. I need to get this done… The gods don’t wait for us.”

A weak sigh leaves your mouth as your brain is already riddled with thoughts of him and he closes the gap between your lips.

“They can wait until morning. For now, you’re mine.”

—

“You can’t love someone unless you love yourself first — bullshit.

I have never loved myself.

But you —

Oh god, I loved you so much I forgot what hating myself felt like. (via swxrn-in)”

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[manheimsmuse]

bejewelled ; spencer reid

what’s a girl gonna do? a diamonds gotta shine!

a/n: very mildly self indulgent, i imagine this set around season one or two-ish just ‘cause the vibe of early criminal minds season will never be matched.

warnings: spencer reid x afab!bau!reader, established, secret romantic relationship, body piercings ( bellybutton ), teasing ( derek and spencer being, well, derek and spencer )

recently these late nights in the office had become more and more frequent. the team all sat in the bullpen in comfortable silence, only broken periodically when someone offered coffee from the kitchenettes unreliable coffee machine.

you rose to your feet slowly, body aching from being sat at your desk for so long. you tilt your head side to side, humming softly at the relief in your neck and shoulders before clasping your hands together and stretching them above your head.

a grave mistake.

“what is this!” elle squealed, all but launching herself across her desk then the hem of your shirt rises to expose the sparkling jewel dangling from your navel “a piercing? how edgy.”

elle’s tone is teasing as one hand shifts the hem of your shirt up just enough for her to examine the star shaped diamond with the other.

you’re too tired to swat her away, and in all honesty you welcome the distraction from the heavy workload, even if it’s drawing unwanted attention from the rest of your team.

a low wolf whistle is sent in your direction from the one derek morgan as he peers over elle’s shoulder to get a look at the jewellery, as does jj, and, naturally, penelope.

“hey, pretty boy, you know about this?” derek taunts, glancing over his shoulder at spencer, still knee deep in paperwork and ignoring the commotion surrounding your navel.

the entire team, especially derek, loved to poke fun at spencer for his little crush on you. teasing him relentlessly for not asking you on a date, for how he occasionally stumbled over his words when you sat next to him on the jet.

a bellybutton piercing, by their assumption, should’ve sent the poor kid genius into orbit.

but spencer knew already.

the two of you had been a bit of an item for a little over six months, keeping the new relationship hidden from your team for no other reason than pettiness. it was nice having something that just belonged to you two.

“yeah, i know.”

spencers mumbled response catches even you off guard, and it doesn’t even seem to register with him what came out of his mouth as he cards his hand through his hair.

“i — excuse me, what!?” penelope squeaks, heels clicking as she shuffles her way over to spencers desk and snaps his file closed “nuh uh, open your ears mister!” she scolds, tapping his forehead with the fluffy pompom on the end of her pen.

spencers laugh, your favourite sound, reaches your ears as he finally lets you catch his gaze. his eyes quickly flick up and down your body, a speedy skill he’d been perfecting since you first got together to catch a glimpse at you without anyone else noticing.

“i knew.” spencer reinforces with a nod “she caught it in her sweater last week and took it out on me”

a half truth, it was his sweater, in his apartment, but his answer seems to be enough to satisfy elle who releases her grip on your shirt.

you watch as spencer gets to his feet and, much like you, began stretching. only, to your horror, when he craned his head to the side the collar of his button up no longer shielded the dark purple bruise on his neck.

your drunken handiwork.

“now wait a damn minute..” derek began, eyes drifting from reids neck to you “now i know y’all nasty kids aren’t doing what i’m thinking.”

“no idea what you mean,” you mumble hurriedly, burying your face back in your paperwork and ignoring the giggles and prodding coming from jj and elle at either side of you.

[anniebeemine]

Pavlov Would Have Had A Field Day With You- s.r x fem!reader

In college, I had to do an experiment for my psych class where we had to conduct a Pavlovian experiment on someone. I chose to play a certain song every time we drove somewhere. It’s been almost a year and she still texts me every time she hears the song. Sometimes I feel guilty, but I mostly love that she’s forced to think of me every time she listens to it

Warning: suggestive sexual tones

“It’s fascinating how classical conditioning can create automatic responses in people,” Spencer said, leaning forward in his chair, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. “For example, Pavlov’s dogs started to salivate not just at the sight of food, but at the sound of the bell he rang before feeding them.”

JJ rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and Emily chuckled. "Spence, only you would make classical conditioning sound exciting."

You smiled, amused by Spencer’s enthusiasm. “It is interesting, though. You can get someone to respond in a certain way without them even realizing it."

Spencer nodded, clearly pleased that someone else shared his interest. “Exactly. It’s all about the association between a neutral stimulus and an unconditioned response.”

You leaned back in your chair, smirking slightly. “You know, I think I have you classically conditioned, Spencer.”

Spencer looked at you, a curious eyebrow raised. “Really? How?”

You held his gaze, the smirk widening into a teasing grin. “A lady never reveals her secrets.”

Spencer’s eyes narrowed in playful suspicion. “Come on, you can’t just say something like that and leave me hanging.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll have to figure it out on your own, Dr. Reid.”

Morgan, who had been listening in, chuckled. “Sounds like she’s got you wrapped around her little finger, pretty boy.”

Spencer blushed slightly, but his curiosity was piqued. He tilted his head, trying to analyze the situation. “You’re bluffing. If you had me classically conditioned, I would have noticed.”

“Would you?” you asked, feigning innocence. “Maybe it’s something so subtle you’ve never even realized.”

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but then hesitated. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he mentally reviewed every interaction the two of you had ever had.

“Okay,” he said slowly, “give me a hint.”

You shook your head, maintaining your playful demeanor. “Where’s the fun in that? You’re supposed to be the genius. Figure it out.”

Spencer leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You’re really not going to tell me?”

You met his gaze, your smile never wavering. “Nope.”

Spencer stared at you for a moment longer, then sighed in defeat. “Fine. But I’ll figure it out eventually.”

You chuckled, knowing full well that Spencer wouldn’t rest until he did. “I’m sure you will, Spence. But until then, it’s my little secret.”

The rest of the team exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying the banter. Spencer tried to focus on the paperwork in front of him, but you could see the wheels still turning in his mind.

Every so often, he’d glance your way, as if trying to catch you in the act of conditioning him. You simply smiled back, giving nothing away, leaving him to ponder the mystery.

Little did he know, it wasn’t anything grand or elaborate. Just a small habit you had formed—gently tapping his shoulder every time you needed him to focus on something important. It was a tiny, seemingly insignificant action, but you noticed how his attention would snap to you the moment your fingers brushed his shoulder, no matter what he was doing.

The rest of the day passed with Spencer occasionally glancing your way, his mind clearly still churning over your little revelation. You let him stew in his curiosity, knowing that the anticipation would only make the moment sweeter.

As the evening approached, most of the team had either left or were wrapping up their work. Spencer was still at his desk, engrossed in a file, but you could tell he was distracted. His gaze flicked toward you more often than usual, and there was a slight furrow in his brow as he tried to figure out what you'd meant earlier. You decided it was time to show him exactly what you meant.

Standing up from your chair, you made your way over to his desk. His eyes followed you, though he tried to keep his focus on the file in front of him. When you reached his side, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you casually scooted closer, settling into the chair beside him.

He gave you a questioning look, but you just smiled and reached up to tie your hair back into a ponytail, deliberately slow in your movements.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the exact moment Spencer realized what you were doing. His entire body tensed, and his gaze darted around the room as if expecting someone to catch him. A light flush crept up his neck, and he subtly adjusted his position in his chair. You had to bite back a smile when you noticed him grabbing a file from his desk and placing it strategically in his lap.

"That’s not fair," Spencer whined, his voice low and tinged with embarrassment.

You couldn't hold back your laughter any longer. "What’s not fair, Spence?"

He glanced at you, his cheeks now fully flushed. "You know what," he mumbled, trying to hide behind the file, though it did little to conceal his reaction.

You leaned in a little closer, your voice soft but laced with mischief. "I told you I had you classically conditioned."

He groaned, clearly mortified but unable to deny it any longer. "Every time you put your hair up…"

"You get a little excited?" you finished for him, grinning from ear to ear.

Spencer buried his face in his hands, the file nearly toppling from his lap. "This is so embarrassing.”

You gently nudged his shoulder with yours. "Don’t be embarrassed, Spence. It’s kind of cute."

He peeked at you through his fingers, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Cute?"

"Yeah," you said, your tone softening. "Besides, it’s just a reaction. You can’t control it. And honestly, it’s flattering."

He finally lowered his hands, still blushing but no longer trying to hide. "You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?"

You shrugged, unable to keep the teasing out of your voice. "Maybe a little."

Spencer shook his head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "You’re going to hold this over me forever, aren’t you?"

You pretended to consider it, tapping your chin thoughtfully. "Forever is a long time, but… yeah, probably."

He groaned again, but this time there was a hint of a laugh in his voice. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re adorable," you countered, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. You glanced around before lowering your voice. “I could help you fix your little issue.“

Spencer's eyes widened slightly at your suggestion, his blush returning with full force. He glanced around the nearly empty office, suddenly very aware of the quiet that surrounded you both.

"Y-You mean right now?" he stammered, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

You smiled, enjoying the effect you had on him. “Why not? It’s not like anyone’s paying attention,” you teased, lowering your voice further so only he could hear. “Besides, it’ll give you a chance to learn how to break that little conditioning problem of yours.”

He swallowed, clearly torn between the temptation and the absurdity of the situation. His eyes darted toward the door, then back to you, a mixture of nervousness and excitement dancing in his gaze.

You stood up, your movements casual as you gathered your things. “See you in five,” you murmured with a wink before heading out, leaving Spencer to gather himself.

He watched you go, his heart pounding in his chest. After a few moments, he pushed his chair back and grabbed his bag, trying not to appear too rushed as he made his way out of the bullpen.

[dreamsontheirway]

It’s Not Your Fault | S.R.

Summary: You leave work late one night and someone follows you. Spencer x reader. Warnings: stalker, sexual assault/unwanted touch Word Count: 1.7k

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Spencer hated it when you had to work late nights. You were also an agent at the BAU, but sometimes you had to stay late to complete paperwork. He would stay late with you on occasion, but you hated inconveniencing him. Of course, he would never consider it an inconvenience.

He had offered to stay late with you again tonight, but you refused. He had such a long day and you knew he needed rest. Besides, you wouldn’t be too long.

It was only around 9 pm when you were finishing up your work. You heard the shrill beep of your phone, indicating a notification.

Hi darling. Almost finished?

You smiled at his message. You quickly sent a reply, letting him know that you would be leaving imminently. Almost immediately, he replied with a thumbs up and a heart.

You began compiling all your papers and files, now completed, and placed them in the filing cabinet at your desk. You stood up, grabbed your satchel bag, and admired the look of your tidy desk before turning on your heel and walking towards the door.

You normally parked in the parking garage attached to the building, but earlier today it had been massively full due to a conference. You were forced to park in the garage down the street a ways. This wasn’t so bad; the early fall weather was the perfect kind to walk in.

You began your short trek from your building to the parking garage, adjusting your satchel bag on your shoulder. It made you a bit nervous how dark it was already, but it wasn’t a far walk by any means.

You were about halfway there when you heard the light scraping of shoes on concrete behind you. You snuck a glance and saw a dark figure about fifty feet away. Most of the time men on the street were harmless, but you were an agent, and you had a bad feeling about this. There had been a few cases recently about women being assaulted in this area.

You assumed you were just being a bit paranoid. It had been a long day of looking at horrible case notes, after all. You decided to walk diagonally across the street as a short cut, and to see if the figure behind you did the same. Your stomach twisted tightly when the figure followed your path exactly. The figure had gotten closer, too, by at least ten feet.

Your hand instinctively went to your hip. Shit. You had left your gun locked up in the office. Shit.

You could hold your own in a fight, but you had absolutely no clue what you were up against here, and no back up.

You scrambled and fumbled your phone out of your pocket, and clicked the most recent contact on your call list. He picked up on the second ring.

“Y/N, are you on your way home y—“

“Spencer,” you whispered, with an intensity that resulted in a thick silence on the other end. You typically called him Spence. He knew something was wrong. “Someone’s following me. I left my gun in my desk.”

“Shit,” Spencer exclaimed, frantically. “Shit. Where are you?” You heard rustling on the other end.

You were a talented agent, and Spencer knew you wouldn’t call him unless you thought there was something seriously wrong. Unless you thought you couldn’t handle it. The thought sent a shiver down Spencer’s back.

“I’m almost to the parking garage, but there’s no one around. Spencer, I don’t know anything about who’s behind me. I don’t know what to do.”

The person behind you was getting closer, but you were talking quietly enough so they couldn’t hear you. You were growing increasingly frightened. You knew you were trained for this, but you were still a relatively new agent, especially in comparison to Spencer and the rest of the team. You’ve had your fair share of creepy men come on to you, but you had the advantage of analyzing them and knowing what you were dealing with. You didn’t have that advantage this time around. You could assume the figure behind you was a man by the heavy steps, but that’s about it.

“Keep walking, quickly. I’m on my way. I’m texting the others. Stay on the line with me, please.” His voice was desperate; you could tell he was just as terrified as you. You knew one of his biggest fears was losing you. Your mind briefly flickered to the realization he’d probably never let you work late without him again. The thought seemed comforting in the moment, and you found yourself wishing he was here.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up stiffly.

“Hey baby,” a deep, slimy voice spoke, a few feet behind you.

Damn it, you thought. You had been preoccupied talking to Spencer, you hadn’t realized how much closer he’d gotten.

You ignored the voice, and continued to walk quickly. You were unsure about how to handle the situation. You just wanted to get to your car. You could see it shining in the distance, the beams of light dancing on the windows from the lights in the parking garage. Luckily, you had parked on the lower level so it would be easy to access.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to ya,” the deep voice continued.

You could hear Spencer frantic on the phone, asking who the voice belonged to. You ignored him; you had to focus on making it to your car.

“Hey!” The voice bellowed, and a strong hand clutched your arm tightly, and you knew it would bruise.

You yanked it away, turning around. “Do not touch me.” You demanded, releasing a shaky breath.

Spencer was losing his mind. “Y/N,” he gasped. “I’m almost there. Hold on.”

You just breathed out in response. You slipped your phone into your back pocket, still on the call with Spencer.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing alone out here on a night like this?” The man questioned. He smirked, his teeth crooked and his eyes a piercing blue, so different from Spencer’s soft and comforting hazel.

“I’m going home,” you stated, continuing towards your car, but angled so you could continue to watch the man.

“Come on,” he smirked. “Aren’t you up for a little fun?”

He lunged then, grabbing the sides of your arms and pushing you against the concrete wall right next to the parking garage. You struggled against his grip. He had caught you off guard, and he was much stronger than you.

“Let me go,” you spoke deeply, as venomously as you could muster, although the slight crack at the end wasn’t very intimidating.

He just hummed in response, and let his hand travel down your arm and rest against your hip. You squirmed against him, but his grip was far too tight. You felt bile rising up your esophagus at the touch of the vile creature in front of you.

You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes. You couldn’t move. You had no part of your body free to even attempt to utilize the years of training you’ve had. The bastard knew what he was doing, and it terrified you.

The man’s large and sweaty hand traveled further, and squeezed at the fabric of your ass. Against your wishes, your let out a light sob.

All of a sudden, the man was torn away from you, his tight grip causing you to stumble forward onto the grass. It all happened so fast and you looked in the direction of where the man had been pulled to.

You saw a familiar head of brown, wavy hair. Spencer was clad in a Caltech sweatshirt and jeans. He really had left the house as soon as you called. He always preferred to wear a combination of slacks and a button down or sweater.

Spencer had the man pinned against the wall, one arm against his throat and the other — oh my god. Spencer’s right hand had his gun pressed to the man’s side.

“Don’t fucking touch her. What gave you the idea you could touch her?” Spencer growled, his left arm adding pressure to the man’s throat. Spencer rarely cursed; you knew he was pissed. The last time you saw him like this was during the whole events with Emily. But even then… this was different. The veins in his neck were popping out so much it looked like they might burst. Spencer was often protective of you, knowing the dangers out there in the world, but you hadn’t ever seen him like this.

“FBI, put your hands up!” A loud voice boomed to the left of you and you quickly looked towards it, breathing out when you saw Morgan, his gun pointed towards the man and Spencer.

Despite Morgan being here now and you being safe, Spencer didn’t budge from his position against the man.

“Agent Reid,” Morgan boomed, harshly, knowingly. He knew how much Spencer cared for you, and how quickly his emotions could escalate when something he cared about was threatened.

Spencer loosened his grip slightly, and the vile man against the wall lifted his hands up in defense. Spencer hesitated, then finally released him, but pushed the man against the wall as he let go.

Morgan rushed forward and took Spencer’s place, twisting the man so his front was against the wall. He grabbed his wrists and placed them in cuffs.

You were sat, watching the scene in front of you. You felt helpless, vulnerable, stupid. You were an agent of the FBI, how could you have let this happen? You choked back a sob, but a whimper left your lips against your will.

At the soft and solemn sound, Spencer’s gaze dashed to you and his eyes were filled with worry. He rushed to you then, cursing himself for not attending to you earlier. He lifted you from the grass, clutching your shaking form against his own.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked, his hot breath against your ear.

“Just my pride,” you choked, laughing grimly. “I’m so sorry I let this happen.”

His grip on you tightened, his strong hand pulling the small of your back towards him. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. We’re pretty sure he’s the unsub the local police department has been looking into.”

You shuttered at the thought. You felt like one of the victims whose smiling face was on the board in the conference room. You felt weak.

As if Spencer could hear your very thoughts, he whispered against your hair, “It’s not your fault.”

-----

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[tlou-reid]

!smut, mdni!

thinking about spencer reid who has had a crush on the pretty BAU agent at the desk across from him ever since she started. she has been so swamped with work and paperwork and life recently and spencer notices the small changes in her behaviors because he notices every little thing about her. he sees the tighter grip she holds on her pens, making the ink bleed through the paper just slightly. he notices the way she starts to slam her coffee cup on the desk as opposed to gently sitting it down. he notices the heavy uptick of the amount of cups she’s having.

and it’s worse when they’re given a case. naturally, since they get along so well and since they’re probably the two smartest people in the world, hotch pairs spencer and his crush up throughout their time in phoenix, arizona. spencer sees the way she’s always cracking her knuckles and rubbing at the small of her back. he hear the tone in which she talks to the officers.

so, when they’ve finally caught their unsub just 6 days later, spencer makes sure to pick up her case files before she can even make it from her hotel room. he tucks them neatly under him as he sits down on the jet, carefully hiding them from her. he holds them hostage, knowing if she doesn’t see them, she won’t worry about them. out of sight, out of mind, as they say. she falls asleep quickly in the seat across from spencer. he can’t help but ogle at her beautiful sleeping form, knowing she really needs the rest.

and, once they returned to the musty bullpen that belongs to the BAU, spencer stays with her. he watches as she starts the paperwork he’d sneakily put on her desk, not letting her catch on to the fact that he’d taken it. he tries his best to focus on his own work, but the way she keeps groaning as she rolls her head back has him completely distracted. he’s barely three pages in when hotch emerges from his office, bidding both of them a goodbye and complimenting their work on the case

that just leaves spencer and the pretty agent across from him in the space.

time moves slower now, spencer thinks, which makes it even more agonizing to listen to her try to work out her over-exhausted muscles by herself. he can’t help himself as he breaks the comfortable silence that had been established.

“hey, y/n,” he inquires, knowing she probably doesn’t want to be disturbed right now. his suspicions prove to be true when she doesn’t look up, letting out a less than enthusiastic “hm?”.

“do you know the benefits of getting a massage?” this piques her interest, wondering where spencer was going to take this. sure, the recent stress in her life had her muscles aching at every hour of the day, but she didn’t think anyone had picked up on it. “i know the basics, spence.” she giggles, finally looking over at him.

he can’t dwell on the fact that this is the first time she’s smiled in about two weeks because his brain starts moving too fast for his mouth to keep up, “yeah, most people know they helps with muscle aches but they actually have a lot of benefits. massages help improve circulation and joint mobility. there’s also research that connects them to cosmetic effects, like improved and more even skin tones.”

he doesn’t expect her to still be paying attention to him, but he’s pleasantly surprised at the small smile spreading across her face. “hm, that sounds amazing. if only i wasn’t trapped here doing paperwork at almost three in the morning.” she answers sarcastically, turning back to her work. “i could give you a massage.” spencer stumbles out.

her cheeks start to heat up as she makes eye contact with him, wondering where he would take this. “i mean,” he backtracks, “i’ve read books on how to do shoulder and back massages. my eidetic memory means i could probably do an almost perfect one, if you’re interested. i’ve noticed the way you’ve been struggling with muscle aches.”

her face feels like it’s on fire with the way he’s making her blush. “um, sure, spencer, if you don’t mind.” she stutters and stumbles as she tries to accept his offer. he excitedly pushes himself of his hair, pulling up a closer one behind her.

his large hands start to knead at the knots at the base of her neck. he can feel the tension she’s built up over the past couple of weeks and tries to recall the techniques he’d read about so long ago.

this quickly becomes a challenging feat, as he moves his hands along the expanse of her back. she lets out light moans when he massages a particularly tight part of her muscle. the moans and grunts she’s making are going right to spencer’s cock. he’s so glad he’s behind her, because the tent in his pants continues to grow as he reaches the base of her back, where most of her pain had been.

her light moans have now increased in volume, and spencer is sure he should stop. he was not expecting to have this reaction from her, or react this way to her. his mind is cloudy and beginning to fill with filthy images that match the sounds she’s making now.

and god, he should stop. he knows he should pull his hands away from her, especially as he feels his stomach tighten and his dick throb in his pants. but he can’t. he needs to reach his release so bad, so he presses his fingers harder into her back, listening to the joyful sounds she’s letting out.

he doesn’t pull his hands away until he finally cums in his pants, too embarrassed to keep going. “thank you, spence. i feel a lot better. a lot less tense now.” she thanks him as he turns away from her, pushing in the chair he’d pulled over. he makes a few exclamations, saying it was no problem at all, before dashing off to the bathroom to try and get himself cleaned up.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

🤍

sooo here is my request! thank you!

Reader is bucky's ex fiancé (40's) and she is like a supersoldier too (she froze with steve and now she is an avenger)

but bucky does not remember her, so she has to deal with watching him dating some agents while she tries to make him remember that part of their life together (maybe with some letters and pics of them)

some angst - hurt / comfort with happy ending! 😭🤍

just bc i love this blog i would like to be "🕷️ anon" 😂

Remember Me » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Ex Fiancée/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Ex Fiancée/Avenger!Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be engaged in the 1940s, but he doesn’t remember you and you have to deal with him going on dates with other agents so you do everything you can to get him to remember you.

Warnings: mix of Angst and Fluff, language, crying, flashbacks, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also you can be my 🕷️ anon🥰

A/N #2: Italic text is flashbacks. I imagined this as Bucky’s post Winter Soldier phase and the reader is a Super Soldier in this.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

You stood in the doorway of the conference room, patiently waiting for Bucky to stop flirting with an agent so you can get him to sign paperwork from a previous mission. You couldn’t help but feel jealous. You and Bucky were engaged in the 1940s, but it didn’t last long. After a few minutes, Bucky finally noticed you standing in the doorway.

“I’ll see you tonight, doll.” Bucky says to the agent and kissed her cheek.

Hearing Bucky call her doll felt like someone ripped your heart out of chest and crushed it in their bare hands. That’s what he used to call you.

“Can I help you, Agent?” He asks you.

“I need you to sign these papers from your mission last week.” You tell him, handing him the file.

“I’ll get these to you later.” He says.

You nodded and walked out of the conference room. You were about halfway down the hall when you had to lean against the wall and take a moment to yourself. Your back slid down the wall and you sat down on the floor. Your mind began to wander.

“You know I love you, right, doll?” Bucky asks.

“Of course I know that, Bucky.” You say with a smile.

Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours and kissed your lips sweetly.

“Are you ok?” Steve asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes.” You lied.

You stood up from the floor and walked past Steve. Your walk was cut short when Steve gently grabbed your arm.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He pleads softly.

“You already know what’s wrong.” You said. “I have to live with the fact that my ex fiancée doesn’t remember me at all and I have to deal with him dating other agents.” You say.

“Give him time, Y/N. He’ll remember you.” He says softly.

You gave him a soft smile before walking away.

Later that same day, you were in the gym, punching the punching bag as hard as you could. You were trying to get the thought of Bucky out on a date with that agent. You punched the punching bag one last time before leaving the gym.

You got on the elevator to go to your bedroom. As soon as you got off of the elevator, you seen Bucky kissing that agent. You stood there with a shattered heart. You quickly went to your room before he seen you.

You immediately caught a glimpse of the picture of you and Bucky from the day he proposed to you. You picked up the picture from your nightstand and looked at it, reminiscing that day.

“Where are you taking me, Bucky?” You asked, followed by a giggle.

“You’ll find out in a minute, doll.” Bucky says.

Bucky told you he had a surprise for you and blindfolded you for it. Your walking came to a stop and Bucky let go of you.

“Take the blindfold off.” He says.

You took the blindfold off and gasped. Bucky took you to yours and his favorite tree. Your favorite flowers were surrounding the bottom of it and he carved “Will you marry me?” on the tree with a pocket knife.

“Bucky-” You turned around and gasped.

“What do you say doll?” Bucky was down on one knee with a small velvet box with a beautiful diamond ring in it. “Will you marry me?” He asks.

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!” You answered with happy tears streaming down your cheeks.

Bucky smiles widely and stood up. He slid the ring on your ring finger and kissed you passionately.

That memory slowly faded away. You let out a shaky breath and your eyes began to water. You took a deep breath before taking a shower and went to bed.

The next morning, as you were getting dressed you seen something shining on your dresser from the corner of your eye. It was Bucky’s Army dog tags. You picked them up and looked at them. A smile grew on your face when an idea popped into your head. You immediately went to the kitchen, already knowing Bucky was in there.

“Morning, Bucky!” You chirped.

“It’s Sergeant Barnes.” Bucky corrects you.

“What?” You asked, blinking a couple times.

“You called me Bucky. Only friends call me that. Agents call me Sergeant Barnes.” He says.

“Oh…” Your voice sounding sad. “I umm…” You found what you were trying to say. “I just wanted to show you something.” You finally say.

“What is it?” He asks.

You held out your hand, showing him his Army dog tags. Bucky snatched them from your hand, making you flinch a little.

“Why the hell do you have these?” He asks harshly.

“I uhh… Steve gave them to me in 1945 when you di- fell off the train.” You tell him. “He thought that I might want them cause you’re my ex fiancée.” You explained.

“I’m not your ex fiancée.” Bucky’s words cut you deep like a knife. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I sure as hell know that I’m not your ex fiancée.” He says before walking away.

You stood in the middle of kitchen with tears streaming down your face. You hoped that showing Bucky his Army dog tags would spark something in his memory of you, but you guessed wrong.

“Why would you give these to Agent Y/L/N after I fell off the train in 1945?” Bucky asks Steve when he walked in the conference room.

“She’s your ex fiancée. I assumed that’s what you wanted. I was just honoring your wishes.” Steve answered.

“She’s not my ex fiancée! I’ve never been engaged in my life!” Bucky raised his voice. “You’re the second person to say that to me today!” He says.

Bucky walked out of the conference room before Steve could say anything else. He stood up from his seat and went to find you. He found you crying at the kitchen table. He sat down next to you and immediately started comforting you.

“I’m fine, Steve.” You lied, your voice cracking.

“No you’re not.” Steve said. “You have every right to be upset.” He says softly.

You turned towards Steve and laid your head on his shoulder, letting your tears free fall. Steve being the good friend he is, comforted you in the only way he knows.

“He basically said that I’m not his friend and I can’t call him Bucky.” You cried against his shoulder. “It’s like I never existed to him.” You say.

“You’re more than his friend.” He says softly.

“I know that, but he doesn’t.” You say, followed by a sniffle.

Later that day, you kept trying to come with ways to get Bucky to remember you. So far you couldn’t come up with anything. You were sitting in the conference room, filling out paperwork when you got lost in your memories of you and Bucky.

“Bucky!” You squealed as Bucky picked you up from behind and spun you around, making burst into a fit of giggles.

Bucky finally put you down on your feet and turned you around so you were facing him. He cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately.

The memory was interrupted when Bucky dropped a file on the table in front of you. You looked at the file and then looked at Bucky.

“Steve said to sign these and to get them to him by the end of the day.” Bucky says blandly.

“Will do, Sergeant.” You say.

You watched Bucky walk out of the conference room. You stared at the unopened file for a moment before leaving the room without finishing your paperwork. You went straight to your bedroom to get something. You wanted to try to get Bucky to remember you again.

You went in your closet, going to the back of it. You opened a plastic storage container where you kept all of the letters Bucky wrote you while he was in the Army. You picked them up and immediately went to find Bucky. You found him in the lounge room kissing another agent.

“Sergeant?” Bucky acted like he didn’t hear you. “Sergeant Barnes?” You say louder.

Bucky sighed and rolled his eyes before looking at you. The agent he was kissing walked past you, giving you a small smile.

“Is there something I can do for you, Agent?” Bucky asks.

“I wanted to read these papers.” You say.

You hand him the old letters. Bucky took the letters from your hands and read them, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion when he seen his name signed at the bottom of each letter.

“What are these and why is my name on all of these?” He asks.

“Those are the letters you sent me in the 1940s when you were in the Army.” You tell him.

Bucky continued to read the letters. A hopeful smile grew on your face, but didn’t last long. He stood up and shoved the letters in your hands.

“That’s not me.” He says.

“But-” You got interrupted.

“But nothing. We were never engaged. Stop trying to get me to remember things that never happened.” He says.

You nodded as your eyes began to water. You went back to your room and put the letters back. You were about to close the container when you saw a stuffed puppy Bucky won you at Coney Island on yours and his first date. You took it out of the container and sat on your bed, holding it close to you as the memory of that day appeared in your mind.

You stood next to Bucky and watched him knock down all the bottles with a small ball. You smiled and cheered him on.

“What prize would you like, doll?” Bucky asks you.

You looked at the variety of stuffed animals displayed in front of you. You smiled when you seen a stuffed puppy with a red bow on it.

“That one.” You say, pointing at it.

The worker handed it to you. You took it from him and held it close to you.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You say, smiling up at him.

“Anything for my best girl.” He says, kissing you sweetly.

You sadly sighed and laid down with the stuffed puppy in your arms. You didn’t even know you fell asleep, because you woke up to the sound of someone knocking on your bedroom door. You got out of bed and opened the door to see Bucky.

“Can I help you, Sergeant Barnes?” You asked.

“Can I come in?” Bucky asks.

You nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to come in your room. You closed the door behind you and waited for him to say something.

“I just wanted to apologize for the way I’ve been talking to you the past couple days.” He apologizes. “I just don’t understand why you keep saying we were engaged years ago when-” That’s when Bucky seen the picture of you and him on your nightstand. “This is me.” He says, picking up the picture to look at it.

“It’s me and you in 1941.” You tell him. “I have more pictures if you want to see them.” You say.

Bucky nodded. You went in the closet to get the pictures. You opened a photo album, showing him a bunch of pictures of the two of you when you guys were together. He took the photo album from you to get a closer look at them. He looked through the pictures without saying a word. Another hopeful smile grew on your face, hoping that Bucky will remember who you are this time. The smile was short lived when Bucky shoved the photo album in your hands and left your bedroom without saying a word. A sad sigh left your lips and you put away the pictures. You were beginning to think that Bucky was never going to remember you, but you weren’t going to give up that hope.

Bucky was supposed to be getting ready for a date with another agent, but those pictures of you and him together were the only thing on his mind. He sat in the lounge room, trying his best to remember who you are, but nothing rang a bell. His thoughts were interrupted when the agent he’s supposed to go on a date with walked in the room.

“Hi!” The agent chirps. “Are you ready?” She asks.

“Yea, I just-” That’s when his memories of you flowed back in his mind like a broken dam. “Actually no. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.” He says, leaving the room and leaving the agent confused.

Bucky searched around the whole compound for you, but couldn’t find you. He accidentally bumped into Steve without realizing it. Steve walked after him and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Buck, calm down. What’s wrong?” Steve asks.

“Y/N. Where’s Y/N?” Bucky asks.

“She’s outside.” He tells him. “Why?” He asks.

Bucky didn’t answer Steve’s question. He just ran outside, looking for you. He didn’t have to go far. You were sitting on the bench trying to figure out another way to get Bucky to remember you. He walked over to you and grabbed your arm, pulling you up from the bench and kissed you passionately. You were caught by surprise, but kissed him back. He pulled away from your lips, leaving the two of you breathless.

“I remember.” Bucky tells you. “I remember you.” He says.

“You remember me?” You asked, making sure you heard him right.

“Yes.” He confirms. “Seeing those letters and pictures made me remember everything.” He smiles. “I’m sorry for the way things ended between us. I was just pissed. Please forgive me and give me another chance, doll.” He says apologetically.

Your eyes began to water with happy tears, a couple tears rolled down your cheeks. Hearing Bucky call you doll for the first time in years made you happy.

“Don’t cry, doll.” He wipes your tears away. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes again.

“I can’t help it.” You sniffled. “I just missed you.” You say.

You wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly, not wanting to let go. Bucky wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him.

“How about we picked up where we left off.” Bucky suggests.

“You still want to marry me?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Of course I do.” He smiles widely. “You’re my best girl.” He says.

“I don’t have the engagement ring you gave me anymore. I accidentally lost it.” You say, feeling ashamed.

“It’s ok. I’ll buy you another one. In the meantime…” Bucky took his dog tags off and put them around your neck. “You can wear these as an engagement ring.” He says.

You looked down at his dog tags, smiling widely. You looked up at him and cupped his stubbly cheeks. You stood on your tippy toes and kissed him passionately. Bucky’s hands found their way to your waist and pulled you against his body.

“I love you so much, Bucky.” You say against his lips.

“I love you more, doll.” Bucky says softly.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[thatlittlered]

would've, could've, should've | aaron hotchner

warning(s): one whole curse word, smoking, stunning amount of fluff and a little bit of action

GIF by @littlecarmine

part one

part two

author's note: Sorry for the delay, hope it was worth it! I also want to thank the sweet anon for the ask with the Robert Siken poem, which I included here. Next part will be straight-up filthy smut, so stay tuned, fellow sluts.

Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

You don’t see much of each other for the next couple of days. Aaron is on autopilot, avoiding any chance to be alone with you. The rest of the team unknowingly act as a buffer and all he has to do is not look at you during work hours, keep the door to his office shut to not hear your laughter.

It’s a relief when you and Morgan are called to testify in court for a case. You’re somewhere far away for the day, where he knows you’re safe and he can go back to pretending nothing has changed.

The problems start when he’s not being kept busy.

 How much paperwork can one person do?

The stars align oddly in his favor and he’s into calls or meetings until long after everyone else has gone home. When ten pm rolls around, he finally calls it quits but sees no point in leaving in a hurry. It’s past Jack’s bed time, it’d be cruel to wake him up now and carry him back home when tomorrow’s Sunday. If all goes well, he can pick him in the morning and they’ll get to spend the day together.

His finger is hovering over Jessica’s number when he spots your name in his call logs. It’s silly and childish, but he hasn’t thought of you in a couple of hours and God.

Deep down, he knows he’s been incredibly unfair to you. He had to. Had to tell himself it was something outside of him causing him torment. An obstacle to overcome, a distraction to ignore. He had to act as if you were forcing your way into his life in order to be able to put up walls, but what have you really done except exist near him? He is the one to blame for allowing it to grow beneath his skin; succumbing to his need for some sort of intimacy when he could have -should have- nipped this at the bud a very long time ago. He recognized it within himself the other day, when he realized he could have -should have- kissed you.

But nothing is healed with a kiss. Only new grievances arise.

It’s where you go from there that matters and he finds himself unable to guide or be guided.

Where do you go from here?

When he decides to feed his insomnia with a cup of late-night coffee, he is yet again reminded of you. So, he calls, but you don’t answer and he pours another, completely indifferent to the idea of sleep.

It’s getting too late to be here, even by his standards. He tries calling again, but, no answer. He gathers his stuff to leave and there is a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach when he settles inside the car. It’s only eleven and you always say you never sleep this early.

Another call, this time to Emily, who miraculously, picks up.

“Hello? Hotch?”

There is a deafening buzz in the background; loud voices and music blasting.

Aaron apologizes for the late hour and tries to be discreet when he asks about you. Says he needs to go over something about a case file but you won’t answer his calls and he got worried.

“Yeah, she’s fine, she’s right here with me, but it’s a little hard to get her right now. Is it urgent?”

“Uh, no, don’t bother her. Is everyone else there too?”

“Not everyone, just the two of us, Garcia and Morgan. Do you need them as well?”

You didn’t invite him, why would you? He would have never said yes.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Sorry, sir, I can’t make out much with all this noise. We’re at the ‘Matter’ if you need us. I’ll tell the guys to call you as soon as they can, okay? Have a good night.”

So, he drives two miles a little before midnight to come sit outside ‘Matter’, which is apparently a very busy nightclub downtown, half a mile away from the nearest parking spot he could find.

He doesn’t really know why he came.

He can’t come in and join you. Can’t ask for you.

They probably wouldn’t even let him in while dressed like this.

It’s very unclear what the next step is.

He knows it’s pointless to call you again when you’re probably too busy dancing and drinking with a great many people who are not him. Morgan has some trouble keeping his hands to himself when he drinks.

He sits on the curb of the street, cracks open the pack of cigarettes he snack out of the car’s glove compartment, always hidden below the insurance papers. Astoundingly loud music plays every time the doors to the club open and people come out stumbling, kissing sloppily and dragging each other away.

He just wants to see you and put this horrible feeling inside him to rest.

“No fucking way.”

He jolts at the sound of your voice and throws away the cigarette, putting it out with his shoe before he turns to see you standing outside the club. You approach timidly until you can be sure it’s him and when you step closer to the streetlight, he can really see you. The clothes you could never wear to work, the shoes you apparently spend all your money on. You’re beautiful.

He can’t possibly move until you’re sat beside him. For the first time in what seems like forever, now that he’s grown so used to it, you keep a very respectable distance between your bodies.

“You didn’t have to throw it away; I already saw you and,” you pick up the abandoned carton from the sidewalk and almost laugh at how immaculate it looks just having been opened, “I have so many questions. Since when do you smoke?”

His voice is quiet, unamused.

“Almost never.”

You look at him curiously and he thinks you would make a great interrogator simply by the way you make everyone around you spill their souls out if it will satisfy you.

“Sometimes when I’m very stressed.”

You hum, “I never would have guessed that.”

He laughs to himself and looks at his hands.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of things that are not typical of me lately.”

You help yourself to a cigarette and he cups his hand over yours when the breeze makes it too hard to light up.

“Is that because of me? Am I a bad influence?”

“No. It’s me, I’m the common denominator.”

You hum again and smile at him teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Breakthrough.”

“So, this is what therapy is like?”

He wants to thank you, for always trying to make things as easy as possible for him. You open the door and difficult as it may seem, all he really has to do is walk through it.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t smoke in session.”

“Oh good.”

You’re sitting closer again and Aaron doesn’t know how. He doesn’t think either of you moved. He keeps his eyes on the road in front of him, glances at you only from the corner of his eye. Your perfume mingles with the smoke of the cigarette and it’s all a haze to him.

“Why are you not inside?”

“I needed a breath; it was very loud and packed in there… and I finally saw your calls.”

He hums, unable to find anything else to say.

“Why are you here?

“I don’t know.”

He knows that is not a good enough of an answer.

“I always have this terrible feeling that something is going to happen to you.”

Your shoulder touches his and he can admire the smoothness of it, focus on each mark there to avoid the dreaded eye contact.

“Do you think that fear is reasonable, or is it rooted in something else?’

His eyes shut tightly, “Don’t do that, please. Don’t talk to me like I’m a subject.”

“You use your ‘agent tone’ all the time outside of work.”

His voice deepens, “I am aware.”

Heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry I did all that and then backed out at the last minute.”

“It’s alright. I think I knew you would.”

“See, that’s even worse.”

You look at his suit, the wrinkles that have formed in the shirt underneath from the hours of wear.

“Did you come here straight from the office?”

A sigh, “Yeah.”

You nod your head in understanding and move to put out what’s left of the cigarette.

“I’m alright. I’ve got the others too; they’ll take me home. You can relax now.”

“I don’t think I ever can.”

You don’t know what to say really. If what he needs is time, you can give it, but he seems undecided as well when he picks up your hand.

“I think I’m scared of what will happen once the line is crossed.”

A confession.

That, you did not expect.

“Aside from the complications at work, I just,” his hand rubs gently on the spot your watch has left its mark, “I have proved time and time again that I can’t handle any relationship beyond professionalism and once we stop being just colleagues, I will lose you completely from my life.”

“Do you think that line has not been crossed already?”

He laughs quietly.

You can both feel the bouncer looking at you and Aaron is suddenly aware of how vulnerable he is right now.

“I guess it has.”

You’re both quiet for a little while.

“I have to go back inside now, or they’ll start getting worried.”

He looks like he’s about to say something, but no words leave his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them you were here.”

That hurt. You know it, but what else was there to say?

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll know.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze before you leave and he’s left staring while you go back inside.

-.-.-

A little past two, the girls drop you off in a shared cub before going their separate ways and you rush to your apartment building, only to find Aaron waiting there.

“Well, you certainly have a thing for sitting on curbs.”

He looks tired, so tired, and alone in the empty street. It’s very hard to maintain your position when he always looks this beaten down in his most tender moments. You wish to care for him, love him back into happiness but that wouldn’t be fair.

Still, you can’t help but go to him and he is relieved that you sit closer this time.

“Have you been waiting here this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

You softly take his right hand to look at his watch. His body relaxes at the touch.

“Huh.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, but I’m a little more drunk than the last time you saw me.”

Your skin glows under the soft moonlight and he notices.

It is technically tomorrow now.

“How drunk?”

His face moves closer and you can’t help but shiver at the sudden change. His breath is warm on your face. The words come out in a whisper.

“Not that much.”

That’s all it takes.

His lips press against yours once… then twice and then… he doesn’t stop.

You always thought he’d be one to kiss carefully and with absolute purpose, just like he does everything else, but he kisses like a man on fire. He seeks to quench something deep inside of him and you provide happily. The remnants of your lip gloss tingle on his mouth, as if kissing you alone is not enough of an awakening.

It’s becoming increasingly hard to keep up with breathing when he envelops you so, and cages you in the pleasant whirl of his scent. When you break away for breath, he’s quick to capture you once more. His hands come to your face to keep you there until he’s had enough, but how he can he ever have enough of you?

He only lets you go because he has to. You’re both practically panting and he can’t decide what to do. He wants to kiss you, look at you, touch you, but it cannot all be done at once. When your own hand comes to his face just below his jawline, he melts under the touch. His eyes are sunken, his body is begging for rest, but it would not come without you.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

His voice is low and breathy when he nods.

“Yeah…”

-.-.-

You walk upstairs, hand in hand, and Aaron can see your own exhaustion is taking over. Something started with that first touch. Your bodies wish only to find comfort near each other.

His breath is warm on your neck while you open the door, his hands softly placed on your waist with the excuse of keeping you steady. When you move to take off your shoes, he is behind you again, as if tied to you with invisible thread, and holds you gently by the elbow when he sees you struggling.

You’re suddenly very aware he is in your house again. Touching you.

“Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head no, but you’re too focused on the way his hand moves languidly up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

He is so caring. So soft below the austere guise.

“I just need to take a shower,” you almost stumble backward and he thinks it’s the alcohol, but it might just be the feeling of his hands on your face, “I must have fifty different people’s sweat on me right now.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”

His voice is soft – tired.

You turn on the lights for him in the living room and he gives a half-smile when you check on him again.

“I won’t be long.”

Once left alone, he gets to look around your house. He sees your carefully assorted nick-knacks and smiles at the framed pictures all over your bookshelves. He can’t help but notice you’ve chosen one, if not the only, photo of the team that he’s also part of.

He is important to you too.

He can see you in every corner of the room, in the books you buy and the realistic-looking-but-admittedly-fake plants sprinkled here and there for a lack of time to take care of any real ones. He can even see you in the soft material of the couch when he sits and lets his cheek touch the fabric. He has been here before in a dream, with your head in his lap.

The room is awfully quiet save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of running water in the background. For a man that’s usually so good at sitting alone with his thoughts, he suddenly can’t stand it.

He knocks gently on the bathroom door and opens it slowly, only to be hit with the dizzying cloud of warm steam. Your head peeks behind the shower curtain and he can tell you got tired of standing and sat in the tub instead.

“Is it okay if I sit in here with you?”

You thought he’d sit on the toilet seat, but he crawls to the edge of the tub and sits on the bathmat with his back to you.

How close is close enough?

Now that he’s ventured, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satisfied.

So, he closes his eyes and rests his head back on the, now warm, porcelain.

“Aaron.”

He doesn’t know if he actually fell asleep, but the water is now turned off and you’re looking at him. He realizes now, for the first time, that you’re naked behind him. Your hair and eyelashes are angelically wet, the sheen of water on your flushed skin is divine. He knows that you’d be warm if he touched you now.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

You smile at him -siren- and your hand grabs a handful of his shirt, staining it with water that reaches his body underneath and makes him shiver. You kiss him with plump wet lips and he reaches for you. His hand entangles in your hair until you’re both practically pulling at each other.

A less enamored man would have broken away just to sneak a peek at your bare skin, but he won’t. He is respectful even now, even like this.

“I should have kissed you the other day. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

It’s a whisper when his mouth leaves yours, but you catch it.

You hum, eyes glossy, “Would've, could've, should’ve.”

What matters is now.

He kisses you again – just one more time. You both feel like giddy, lovesick children.

“Can you hand me my bathrobe?”

The bathrobe is also impossibly soft to the touch and when you emerge clad in it, he thinks he’d like to hold you. The spell of the warm steam is broken outside, however, and being so close to your naked body suddenly becomes very serious.

You let him sit in your bed, still fully clothed, save for his suit jacket, and he closes his eyes again. The comforter underneath is lovely.

Is everything in this house soft?

Is this what it feels like to be loved by you?

You disappear inside the walk-in closet and reappear, now properly dressed in your pajamas. The bed dips when you sit next to him and he turns to you completely.

“I have a T-shirt you can sleep in, don’t know about pants though.”

Please. Just be here, with him.

He watches you leave, but it’s not long before you return with the aforementioned shirt. You laugh when he finally realizes he’ll have to sleep in his boxers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you.”

He throws a teasing look, but can’t possibly come up with a clever answer right now.

“I’ll go dry my hair and you can get dressed, alright?”

You are so gentle with your guidance that it makes him feel like a helpless child, but there’s a hidden relief at that. It’s nice; being cared for like this and there is something to be said about parallels, with you going now to do as you had done a week and a half ago in a Florida hotel and him waiting for you – on your bed.

It’s the same, but it’s different.

He hangs his work clothes carefully on the chair in the corner of your room and goes to sit on the bed, but feels too uncomfortable to climb under the covers. He knows you’d find his duality funny; how he goes from hungrily kissing you to being too embarrassed to join you in bed, even if it’s only for sleep.

You notice his stiffness when you come back in the room, but don’t say anything. It’s not exactly easy for you either, you’re just better at hiding it than he is. You choose to lead by example instead and turn off the lights before reaching for the one on your nightstand and climbing inside your bedding.

He only speaks to deflect attention from him again, “You have a TV in your room.”

“Jealous?”

He turns to look at you and you’re perched up on the plump pillows, smiling at him. Your hand reaches for his own over the comforter and you gently pull him to you.

He comes, of course.

“I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“Of course you don’t.”

He joins you with his back on the pillows and his shoulder touching yours, but he’s still too stiff.

“What do you watch?”

“Mostly reruns of sitcoms-,” he laughs at that, “-Seinfeld.”

“Isn’t that show a thousand years old?

“You would know.”

He laughs again and you can almost make out a wounded pout on his face, but a kiss is enough of a cure. His shoulders relax and he gives in to the warmth and softness; be it the bed or you next to him. You can tell he’s barely managing to stay awake, but he still can’t let go completely. His head slumps backward again.

“Can we turn it on?”

You find the courage to caress his hair, admiring the softness of it and the discreet sprinkle of grey that you can only see up close.

“If you want.”

The quiet humming of the television and your breath in his ear, putting his mind to ease, are enough for him to finally sleep and you’re not long behind. His head is turned to the side where you are, hand tightly holding yours.

Later in the night, when you stir in your sleep, he pulls you further into him – wraps his arm around you completely and doesn’t let go.

next part

[ambswoso]

could’ve been ii - leah williamson

the weddings over. you have to return to barcelona but you didn’t think you’d be seeing leah again so soon and she’s determined to get her girl back, in any capacity.

5.9k words. somehow it's longer than the first part.

leah williamson x mead!reader

“right beth, pack it in. i’m gonna miss my flight.” you laughed as you pushed out of her tight hug.

“you sure you’re gonna be ok?” beth stroked your hair, tucking the hair that had fell from your ponytail behind your ear. “it’s a two-hour flight bethy, i’m sure i’ll be fine.”

“yeah, a two hour flight by yourself to a foreign country!” beth emphasised, ever the protective big sister. “i do live there beth.”

“i know and i hate it. i miss you already.”

“i miss you too, but i really do have to go.” you once again released yourself from beth’s grasp, leaning over to give you new sister-in-law an equally big hug.

you headed over to security and waved at beth and viv one last time. “call me when you land, or i’ll send lucy to your apartment.” you heard beth call as you went, giggling to yourself.

now you just had two hours to kill, by yourself, until you were due at your gate. you may as well get back up to date with paperwork having been away for just over a week. airpods in you started powering through your work, or at least you were until a song you’d long deleted from your playlist started playing in your ears.

your song. both of yours.

leah had a habit of calling everyone ‘my girl’, particularly you when you were together because once upon a time you actually were her girl. the first time she called you it was on your first date. she picked you up, took you for a picnic on an unusually warm february day and dropped you home like the charming woman she always was. as you left leah’s car she called after you, “see you soon for the next one, my girl.” and if you weren’t already smitten from the date then that certainly sealed the deal. the next time she picked you up, ‘my girl’ was playing through her car radio and you decided there and then that it was your song. you only let leah know about it after you’d made things official, but she was fine with it. 

the same song that used to fill you with love and remind you of the love of your life, now just made your heart sink. you weren’t her girl anymore and she wasn’t yours.

you gave yourself only 30 seconds to enjoy the song before you skipped to the next. your shoulders had been rid of a particularly heavy weight since yours and leahs blowout at the wedding and you didn’t really feel like having it back just yet. besides you had work to do and a flight to barcelona to catch. 

other than that one slip up at the airport, you barely had time to think about leah, being thrown straight back into your work had helped distract you.

“hola chica.” you heard a voice call from outside your office, “¿cómo estás?” (how are you?)

“simplemente perfecta” (simply perfect). you told the tattooed woman who’d since made herself comfortable on your other chair.

“i think that was sarcasm” mapi observed. “tell me all about the wedding.” she leant forward resting her chin in the palms of her hands, smiling at you so innocently.

you’d become very friendly with a lot of the girls that played for barca since starting there, having lucy and kiera introduce you to them had helped. they liked finally having a physio who was similar to them, that enjoyed football, that was around their ages. as of recent and thanks to a knee injury, you had a new number one fan by the name of maría pilar león. she was in your office most days for rehab so naturally you learned a lot about each other.

“nothing to tell, maps. my sister got married, i wore a nice outfit, got drunk, had an argument with my ex-girlfriend, drank some more and flew back.” you quickly explained whilst pulling her file up on your computer, only turning to glance at her once you’d finished talking. 

“perdone, repita eso.” (excuse me, repeat that.) mapi gasped. you talked in her physio sessions, a lot, but you’d never discussed you and leah deeming it not fair on her to spread her relationship history around barca femenis football team. 

“wore a nice outfit, got drunk.” you smiled.

“you argued with leah? leah williamson?” mapi exclaimed.

“woah, how’d you know it was leah?”

“lucia loves to talk, everyone knows. it’s sweet you didn’t want to tell anyone though.” she smirked at you. “so why the argument?”

“well we never discussed the breakup properly so, i guess it all just came out that night instead.” you told her, glad to have someone impartial to vent to. “hop up on the bed please, mapi. i need to check your still okay to get back on the grass today.”

“and how do you feel?” she probes as she lays back. you’d both gotten very used to talking about your personal lives during mapi’s appointments. the pair of you had spent so much time together that there was no way you could end up not being friends.

“i don’t really know. there’s like a weight lifted off my shoulder because i said everything i’d been dying to say for a while, but it hasn’t like helped. i still miss it, even after getting that bit of closure.”

“was she unkind?” mapi asked. 

“not at all.” you responded quickly. “i don’t think she really knew why it had ended to be honest. she seemed a bit shocked. we were both sat there crying for a while.”

“the leah williamson crying?” mapi’s head shot up from where it lay, leaning back on her elbows. “god you must have really done a number on her.”

“trust me she’s not as tough as she makes out, or she didn’t used to be anyway.” mapi took notice of how you fondly you still spoke about leah, of how you still held the memories of you and her close to your heart. 

“i don’t think she’s tough at all anymore based on what keira says.” you heard mapi mumble under her breath. “what do you mean? what did keira say?” your questions came at rapid speed in mapi’s direction, the concern and worry you held for leah would probably never go away. 

“i’m staying silent.” mapi held her hands up in defence as you gestured for her to sit up from the bed. “but i do think you should talk to keira for once, i can tell it’s been a little awkward between you two.”

“i mean she’s leahs best friend i don’t want to get in the middle so i just stay out of it completely.” you brushed mapi’s comment off. it wasn’t only keira you’d distanced yourself from after yours leahs split and you knew you’d lost a lot of friends in the process, probably through your own fault rather than anyone else’s. “right, you’re all clear. get your ass back out on the grass maria. i’ll come check in in a little bit.” sending her one final smile to send her off.

you thought mapi had left, thoughts of the team knowing about your previous relationship and what keira may have possibly said ran through your head as you began to wipe down the treatment table where mapi once lay. 

 “lo siento if i’m overstepping but i feel as if we’re good enough friends that i can say this to you.” mapi’s voice scared you from the doorway that she evidently hadn’t moved from yet. “i can see you still love her, i mean you’ve been here for over a year and you’ve not been with anyone else or even tried.” 

“well i-“ 

“don’t even try because i already know you haven’t, mi amiga.” she sent you a knowing look as you rolled your eyes. “you should fight for it, for her, if it’s something you really want because from what you’ve said and what i’ve heard it sounds like she wants to fight for you. i don’t know what happened at home between the two of you, but it must have hurt, but you said yourself you miss the relationship and i think you miss her as well. everything you get is meant for you, y/n/n, and i know you believe that too. just ask yourself if in 5 years, you’re still going to be wishing you’d never left because i think you will.” this time maria actually left the room and with it left you with a lot to mull over. 

“stupid footballers, always giving their stupid advice. idiota.” you scoffed.

“i heard that.”

you filled out the rest of mapi’s paperwork before you went out to see how she was doing back on the grass. it’s quite hard to fill in someone’s medical forms whilst simultaneously having thoughts of your ex-girlfriend spinning around your head but nevertheless you got it done and made your way outside. you were happy with what you saw from mapi, shooting her a quick thumbs up as she waved before trying to disappear back to your office as to not disturb the other girls.

“hola guapa.” (hi beautiful). alexia shouted to you from the pitch as she saw where mapi’s attention was momentarily diverted. 

“te hemos echado de menos.” (we’ve missed you). salma called out as she ran to where you were and pulled you in the hug, others following along in her footsteps.

“hola chicas, i’ve missed you too.” you smiled with salmas arm still wrapped around your shoulders. “vuelve y entrena por favor.” (go back and train, please.)

“tu español es tan bueno ahora, hermosa.” (your spanish is so good now, beautiful). alexia smiled at you as she was the next to pull you into a hug. most people who you met were surprised to hear how welcoming and friendly alexia had been to you. 

when you first moved to barcelona, it’s safe to say it wasn’t under the best circumstances. just coming off the back of a painful end to your relationship, you’d retreated inside yourself and in hindsight moving away from both your family and friends probably didn’t help but you knew you couldn’t stay where you were. keira and lucy were there who you of course knew through leah and beth, but the last thing you wanted to do was cause any friction for them and their national captain, so you kept to yourself and just got to work.

alexia was near the end of her acl recovery when you started your new position, immediately being put in charge of alexia’s rehab and care as you’d had more than enough acl experience working for arsenal. she was a lot sweeter than you’d imagined, her injury putting her in a vulnerable position and you were right there alongside her. you were both healing in your own ways, alexia physically and you emotionally, and your bond quickly formed through that. you didn’t just become alexia’s go to for her physical needs but also her emotional, supporting her through many ups and downs that came with her recovery, and she could never thank you enough for that. when the both of you had spare time, she’d take you around barcelona and had introduced you to her friends and family. you were right there on the side lines watching proudly as she made her comeback in the la liga match against sporting huelva and the friendship continued to blossom even after her recovery. 

“training is nearly finished. no te preocupes.” (don’t worry.) the famously hardworking and driven captain brushed off the end of training, knowing how excited the girls would be to see you again even if it had only been just over a week. “cenamos esta noche?” (dinner tonight?)

“sí, suena bien.” (yeah, sounds good.). alexia had also been a big help in you learning spanish, something you’d been determined to do since arriving in barcelona and you’d come a lot further than keira put it that way. 

“y/n, can i talk to you for a second?” speak of the devil, keira came over to grab you as the rest of the girls headed into the changing rooms.

“yeah, of course. everything okay?” you asked her, secretly hoping she’d be coming to talk to you about an injury rather than leah, but you had no such luck.

“i heard about the wedding.” keira starts and you let out a sigh. “i know this probably doesn’t help but she’s really torn up y/n.”

“yeah, me and her both.” you scoffed defensively. you weren’t really angry at leah anymore, so you weren’t sure why you were acting like this, especially towards keira, but after being pretty torn up yourself for nearing a year and a half you didn’t feel like hearing how it was only now affecting leah. “i’m sorry, it was just a lot that’s all.”

“she keeps asking about you. told me to keep an eye on you, check if you were doing okay.” kiera revealed, “even before this.”

“really?” eyebrows raised, you questioned keira, thinking that leah pretty much continued having the time of her life after you moved away. 

“all the time. she still cares about you and you were really good together. you were good for her.” 

“she was good for me too, until she wasn’t.” you recalled, a sad smile gracing your face which didn’t go unnoticed.

“and i’m sorry you lost the rest of us too. she’s not the only one that’s been missing you. i feel like we haven’t had a proper conversation in ages.” she laughed.

“yeah, probably not.” you laughed a long with her. “but that’s probably more so my fault, just didn’t want to cause any tension, you know? so i’m sorry.” 

“you really don’t have anything to apologise for, y/n.” she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and lead you inside so she could get showered and changed before the hot water was no more.

“i’ve done enough crying this week, don’t make me start again.” you joked as you parted ways, you heading back to your office to get back to work for the afternoon and keira to the changing room. “oh and heads up, she’s coming to the game on saturday, bye!”

brilliant. great. fuck.

you’d expected to have a little bit more time before having to see leah again, let alone speak to her. you and her hadn’t had to come face to face for a year and a half and now you were seeing her twice inside of a month. you’d hoped you could get over your meeting by doing the same thing as last time, avoiding her, but turns out the universe had different plans this time. stupid universe. 

you tried to distract yourself from the imminent encounter with leah and went to dinner with alexia, ingrid and maria, knowing that was a safe place where leah wouldn’t be bought up for a couple of hours. you always had a good time with those girls and were grateful that they’d took you under their wing even though they really didn’t have to, you weren’t even on the team. 

another story post of you and alexia looking particularly friendly at dinner. leah had seen enough of these over the last year and a half but this one for some reason stung her just a bit more than the rest. she used her secret instagram account enough to realise how close you were with certain members of the barca team. she was happy that you’d settled in over there and yet she felt a pang in her heart at the fact that used to be you and her and her teammates. it still should be. 

leah wasn’t sure whether you knew about her coming to the game. she wasn’t sure whether she should go at all really but she hadn’t seen keira in a while, having missed out on the last national camp due to her knee. you came first though, more so now than ever. after your intense conversation, if you can call it that, at beth’s wedding, leah realised how much she’d dropped the ball towards the end of your relationship. you weren’t coming first to her; you weren’t being prioritised and yet you still did that for her. perhaps she was a bit naïve to think that you’d simply fallen out of love with her and that you’d grown apart naturally. everyday she regretted the fact she just let you walk out the door without fighting for you. she truly didn’t realise what she had until it was gone. she used to come back to a warm home with candles lit, dinner prepared and a stupid cheesy film ready to watch. realising that the warm home she felt she had, that you made, felt the exact opposite to you elicited gut wrenching feelings for her. 

had she ever stopped loving you? absolutely not. had she stopped appreciating you? yes, which she now realises had been her fatal flaw. stuck in her own head coming off the back of the euros success, dealing with fame and recognition that she didn’t realise she’d ever have. everybody wanted a piece of the england captain but she forgot to save a vital part of herself for you. this realisation had triggered something in leah, she needed you more than you’d ever know and she knew you needed her too. she’d give you everything you ever wanted, she’d pull the sun out of the sky for you if you asked and she wanted to show you, in one way or another. if you shot her down, or if she was too late then so be it but leah would be damned if she didn’t try her very hardest.

getting lost in her own thoughts she hadn’t realised she’d liked the instagram story you’d posted of yourself at dinner. thanking god, she was on her second account, until she realised she wasn’t religious and she was most definitely on her actual public verified account. you’d definitely seen it. you were out to dinner with your new friends, potentially a new girlfriend, and she’d just liked your story. your ex-girlfriend had just liked your story. maybe it would make it less weird if she followed you again and then liked your story, so she did, and it was still weird. leah felt a little like a stalker and maybe she was doing a bit of stalking, but she thought it was safe. now she was definitely nervous about seeing you on saturday.

you’d long been home from dinner, only posting about it once you’d all left the restaurant. fans could be a little bit crazy sometimes and you knew both barca and arsenal fans followed you on social media with you being both beth’s little sister and heavily featured on the girl’s accounts at one point or another. the notification came through to your phone as you were mindlessly scrolling through tiktok having tried to fall asleep and failed, your mind running rampant with thoughts of seeing leah again. as if someone had read your mind a notification came through from that exact woman. oh god, she’d liked your story. why would she like your story? why would she like your story and then follow you? maybe she was trying to make it less weird before the weekend. well, if that was her aim she hadn’t succeeded. 

“pick up, pick up, pick up.” you mumbled under your breath, pacing back and forth across your bedroom. “hello?” a voice came from the other side of the line.

“hello? oh, thank god you answered.” a sigh of relief left your mouth as your best friend picked up the phone, albeit she didn’t sound very happy to be answering but, nonetheless. 

“what do you want? it’s like midnight, i’m trying to sleep.”

“well if i can’t sleep neither can you. leah just refollowed me on instagram.” you practically shouted at her down the phone.

“okay, and?”

“and liked my story.” you paused and she didn’t answer, only hearing a huff down the phone so you continued, “of me and the girls out to dinner, specifically a picture of me and alexia.”

“no, i meant and as in like ‘and what’s your point?’. she followed you, you also used to sit on her face until like a year ago.” she pointed out, crudely. 

“oh my god!” you grimaced, “she also stopped following me as soon as i stopped doing that so this is a big deal.” 

“y/n/n, i’m not being funny but it’s really not. i mean you saw her like last weekend. she’s probably just trying to make amends.” she points out, just wanting to go back to sleep at this point and trying to make you feel better before she goes. 

“but this just makes this weekend so much more awkward now. like-“

“wait hold on, the weekend? what about the weekend?” she cuts you off. you realise you may have failed to mention that you had an inevitable encounter with leah approaching, having been distracted since keira told you earlier in the day. 

you sighed, “she’s coming to the quarter final. to see keira.” 

“well why didn’t you lead with that?” she was definitely awake now. “you’re gonna see her. she’s gonna talk to you.”

“do you not think i know that? that’s why i’m freaking out even more.”

“no don’t freak out. it’s a good sign.” she reassured you. “she’ll probably try and speak to you and you didn’t leave things on a very good note, so the follow and the like is a good sign.”

“do you think?” you asked, biting down on your freshly manicured nails. another €40 down the drain now you’d have to get them done again. 

recalling the wedding your best friend tells you, “i know it’s a good sign. you didn’t see her after you argued at the wedding. you might’ve been crying in the bathroom, but she was in bits too. when i saw her, she was practicall shaking y/n, like really upset. i mean she made sure i knew where you were and went to you so it’s obvious, she still cares about you.”

“keira said the same thing.” you smiled to yourself.

“so, stop panicking. try and get some sleep, okay?” she tells you and you nod, forgetting she can’t actually see you, so you hum in response instead. “right, i have to go because i have a normal job that starts at 8am. not all of us can be a doctor to the stars.”

“i’m a physiotherapist.” you corrected her.

“you say tomato, i say tomato. goodnight, love you.”

“love you too.”

trying not to think about it, the next few days passed like a blur, filled with twinges of knees and possible injuries to which thankfully none were serious. with little anticipation, gameday rolled around. were you for sure going to see leah? no. was it a strong possibility? yes, especially with keira’s meddling. 

having a lovely view, thanks to alexia’s assurance, you watched from crowd as barca beat brann with a comfortable 3-1, earning themselves a place in the champions league semi-final. you applauded and cheered for the girls from your seat. frido soon noticed you though beckoning you to come join their celebrations on the pitch. as soon as the other girls noticed, it was clear that no one was taking no for an answer so you climbed over the barriers and with security reassured you weren’t a very dedicated fan, alexia helped you down to the pitch. 

you hadn’t seen leah yet today, beginning to think that maybe you’d come away unscathed, but she’d spotted you within the first 5 minutes of her arrival. maybe it was because she was actively looking for you but there was no proof of that so. she watched on from the pitch where keira had summoned her as the barca girls made you come down from the stands to celebrate with them. you never missed an opportunity to do that at arsenal either as leah’s girlfriend, beth’s sister or their physio. you were always there for the matches come rain or shine, win or lose and it was becoming increasingly more obvious that you weren’t there anymore. the conti cup final was happening in a couple of days and leah wished nothing more than for you to be in the stands where you belonged cheering her on, but instead you’d be here. 

“oi!” keira shoves leah out of her thoughts, “did you listen to a word i just said?” and looks around to see what had garnered leahs attention to which she found you in her sights. “stupid question, obviously not.”

“sorry.” leah mumbled, still yet to actually look away from you.

“you’re not sorry. you should go talk to her.” keira began her meddling. 

“yeah maybe in a bit.” leah smiled sadly at keira, the falseness of it not fooling her best friend for a second. 

you finally caught eyes with leah as alexia turned you in the direction of a funny sign that had her attention, but you found the blonde stood 15 metres from you a lot more interesting, especially the fact that she was already looking at you. so interesting that you hadn’t noticed alexia leaving until you felt her squeeze your arm and heard her tell you she’d be back in a minute. well now you were alone, the girls making their walk around the pitch to celebrate with the fans on the other side. you distracted yourself with a conversation with one of the medical staff that had been on the staff for today’s match, they informed you of the little niggles and twinges some of the girls had complained of during the game and half time. 

“muchas gracias. que pase buena noche.” (thank you so much, have a nice evening.) you thanked the woman with a smile as the rest of the medical team packed up to leave.

“de nada. buenas noches.” (you’re welcome. goodnight.)

pulling your phone out you made a note of what she’d told you. “hi.”

there she was. you wondered how long it would take between you seeing her and her approaching. 10 minutes apparently. “hi.”

“hello.” she said again, you giggling at the awkwardness she never seemed to grow out of. “wait i already said that.”

“yep, you did.”

leah was relieved that you were laughing, better yet that she was the one making you laugh, or even speaking to her after the way things had been left at beth and viv’s wedding. “can we talk?”

“ye-“ you were interrupted by a hold on your arm from a certain spanish midfielder. 

“estás bien?” (are you okay?) alexia asked, directing her attention to you not yet looking at leah. alexia knew all about your past relationship, you’d told her in one of your numerous physio sessions as she had told you about hers. well you hadn’t ever told her who it was only that said ex-girlfriend played alongside your sister but she’d figured it out with the small help of mapi telling her exactly who she was. 

“si, soy buena.”(yeah, i’m good.)  you smiled at her, not sure why she looked so worried for you. leah noticed your smile reached your eyes, a real genuine smile you were sending alexia. one she hadn’t coaxed out of you in some time, and she felt her heart sting once more. it was one thing seeing yours and alexia’s friendship or whatever it was through her phone screen but seeing it stand directly in front of her was worse than she thought.

“hola, leah.” once she saw that you were okay and seemingly unaffected (you were affected, just keeping it under wraps) by leahs approach, alexia turned her attention to her fellow blonde national captain. 

“hi. good game.” leah pulled alexia in for a handshake, trying not to let the jealousy that was bubbling inside her show on the outside. 

“oh, thank you. nice to see you.” alexia gave her a tight smile as she squeezed your hand and headed to follow the rest of the girls back inside. alexia was worried for her new friend, not wanting to see her return to the headspace she was in when she first arrived in barcelona. 

you and leah headed back towards the stands where coincidentally you’d only been sat a few rows apart. “how are you?” she asked as she gave you a hand to help you back over the barrier. 

“yeah, i’m good. how are you?”

“been better.” she sent you a sad smile. “i know you probably haven’t got much time but i just wanted to see if you’re up for getting a coffee or something before i go home on monday?” 

you were both surprised and not surprised at leah’s question. you’d expected to have a conversation with her but thought it might’ve happened today. mapi’s words of advice rang through your head. you did miss her a lot, you thought about her all the time. maybe having that closure without the arguing would help you process this. clearly, you’d been doing a pretty shitty job by yourself for the past year and a half if every time you saw her all the feeling came rushing back. 

“yeah actually, i’d like that. i’m free tomorrow morning?” you proposed.

“wait really? are you joking?” the smile appeared on her face. shed asked the question half expecting you to say no.

“obviously i’m not joking you idiot.” you laughed at her expression.

“tomorrows good. tomorrows so good.” she told you, still smiling widely. in reality, tomorrow wasn’t good. she had plans to go for breakfast with keira and her girlfriend tomorrow, but keira could wait. they’ll get lunch instead. 

should someone be this stressed to see their ex-girlfriend again? probably not. should they also be this stressed over what they look like to see their ex-girlfriend again? also, probably not.

you’d been up 2 hours before you were supposed to be after not sleeping much at all in the first place. you’d gotten your outfit ready last night, declining your invitation to the club with the team to celebrate to ensure that you had a fresh head in the morning. deciding that the outfit you’d chosen last night wasn’t good enough and you hated your entire wardrobe ended with about 4 outfit changes before you finally got in your car, 20 minutes after you were supposed to leave.

“i’m so sorry i’m late leah.” you rushed out as you sat across from her at the table shed been perched at for 25 45 minutes. 

“don’t worry, just had me thinking you weren’t going to show up.” she chuckled nervously, sliding the drink shed bough you over to you. “one iced latte with oat milk and one shot of vanilla and a shot of hazelnut.”

“you remembered.” you smiled at her. your coffee order had never changed in the years leah had known you and it hadn’t since. if you needed to be in work earlier than leah, there would be an iced latte on your desk promptly when she walked through the doors of the training centre. 

“hard not to remember when you probably consist of 90% iced latte.”

“so has keira shown you the barcelona sights?” 

“a few. found my favourite one yesterday at the game though.” she flirted. old habits die hard, i guess.

“i see you haven’t lost your charm miss williamson.” you laughed lightly. both of you dancing around the real reason leah asked you to meet.

“you seem really happy here, y/n/n.” leah pointed out. a bittersweet feeling to know that you were thriving somewhere else when she believed you should be in london, with her, but at least you were happy.

“yeah its been rough, i wont lie to you.” leah winced at your words, realising she’d been the reason for your move in the first place so she had no right to wish you were back in london. this was your home now. “you were a big part of my time in london so we said goodbye and then i had to say goodbye.”

“i know we left beth and viv’s on a sour note, but i really am genuinely sorry. for everything. the breakup, the neglect, the argument at the wedding. all of it.” she reaches across the small coffee table to grab your hand, something she always did to stop you biting at your painted nails. 

“you still have it?” you borderline gasped at the sparkle you noticed on leahs hand. as soon as you noticed she retracted her hand, as if moving it would somehow take back what you’d seen, but you held tightly.

“erm-“ she cleared her throat, not expecting you or anyone else to see that the ring you bought her still holds pride of place on her hand some days, today being one of them. “yeah, i just like to have it on sometimes. reminds me of a better time.” in reality, she was wearing it at the wedding and hadn’t taken it off since. how could she take the ring off if she hadn’t stopped thinking about the girl who gave it to her? 

“i didn’t mean to be so harsh towards you the other week, le.” you told her as you let go of her hand, falling back into your seat. “i think i just got overwhelmed. the whole day was a lot, you just got the brunt of it.”

“trust me i deserved it. if all i get of you these days is to be your punching bag, i’ll take it. it’s the least i can do.”

you chuckled sadly, knowing exactly what lead you and leah to this point but still wondering how you got here at the same time. “i miss you, y/n/n. i know i said it at the wedding, but it’s been a year and a half and some days i think i might be over it, that i might be ready to move on but i’m not and i’m really scared that i never will be.”

“i don’t want you to think that i don’t miss you because i do. all the time.” you confessed to her. “but that doesn’t change the fact that what happened and what you did really hurt me, leah. towards the end i was so afraid of you going to an event or a trip and leaving me that i didn’t realise i’d left myself behind already.”

leah hung her head. never in her life had she been so ashamed of how she’d treated someone, especially someone who loved and cared about her so deeply. you would have done anything for leah and a lot of the times you did. she always came first with you, and you did to her, until all of a sudden you didn’t. deep down you knew that it was partly to do with leah dealing with the sides of fame she never had to deal with before, becoming a household name within the space of a few weeks during the euros, but you also knew that you just weren’t her priority anymore whether she meant to do it or not. 

“but i’m really tired of being angry leah.” you continued, the word ‘but’ sending a slither of hope through leah as she looked back towards you. “and i do miss you, so id really like it if we could be friends again.”

“i’d really like that too. having you back in any capacity is more than i deserve and more than good enough for me.” leah smiled wider than you’d seen in a while. even on your stalks through instagram you knew that half those smiles were fake.  

“friends?”

“friends.”

the long awaited part 2! decided there will be at least 1-2 more parts of this just bare with me. enjoy🤍