#I love soft Arsene so much

[kiaroscuro]

Title: as the world caves in

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

Arsene goes first, this time, leading Ren towards an apartment complex and then to the higher floors, checking any doors they come across until he finds a locked one. The persona tells Ren to wait, breaks the lock, and disappears inside, and Ren bites his lip in guilt because he knows what Arsene is looking for.

"Everything seems safe," he rasps after the third apartment he's done that, wingtips trembling from where they're winched against his back, and Ren steps forward and hugs him tightly, feeling the tense muscles relax marginally. Ren is allowed to enter the apartment, no sight of any dead around -- the door to what he assumes is the bedroom is tightly locked with a chair placed before it as a warning, and Ren can see from the swirling dust that Arsene was the one to place it there. Ren coughs, once, and Arsene is by his side in an instant, mask lighting up and glancing around in worry.

"I'm fine," Ren mutters, dropping his packs onto the ground next to the couch. The apartment is deceptively normal-looking, no mold and no plant-life intruding into its frozen stillness. Arsene drops down unceremoniously onto the couch itself, dematerializing his heels and jacket until he's left in black slacks and his vest and shirt, groaning and brushing the palm of his hand over his mask, head leaning back and exposing the long line of his neck.

"We should go back-- to the market and get thee a box of facemasks... nonetheless," he rasped, voice cracking dangerously. Ren frowns, steps closer -- unheeding of how dirty he is, because that can't be helped -- and ghosts his fingers over the wire-thin line crossing over Arsene's throat, warmer to the touch than the rest of the persona's body temperature.

"Stop talking out loud, Arsene," Ren murmurs. "You're hurt." He brushes over the reminder of how closely he'd gotten to loosing his persona a second time, lips touching the soft, snake-like skin reverently. They've been dancing around each other like gossamer silk for a few weeks now, tightly-woven as all persona and humans are, dependent on one another unlike they'd been before. Ren doesn't find it in himself to care.

Ah, Arsene sighs, inside their shared mind-space this time. It is not good for thou if thou never hear voices out loud, mon cher. It makes thee feel even lonelier.

I'd rather feel lonely than have you lose your voice, pigeon,Ren remarks, softly. There's not much reason for us to talk out loud surrounded by mutated anyways.

Arsene remains tellingly silent, the fire of his eyes dimming until it disappears, and Ren lets him rest while he glances around the apartment, drawing the curtains shut and finding enough candles to both light their room and stow away some for later use. He examines the signs of life surrounding him, peeks into the kitchen and the bathroom both, finds a baseball bat smeared with blood next to the main entrance. Ren lights a candle and places it on the chair in front of the bedroom, the family picture he'd found next to it, and scribbles down on a piece of paper: here lie Daisuke and Ichigo Morimiya.  May they rest in peace.

With that done, Ren sends a prayer to anyone willing to listen -- shadow or false god or real god, it doesn't matter -- before he wanders back to the bathroom, eyeing over the bathtub with a critical glance. Everything is western-style, but they're far away from civilization that the possibility of running water is pretty much halfway split. If he's lucky, a dam generates running water for the town, like back home, and a dam can run for longer without human interference than electrical works. Ren tests it out with a quick flick, and rusty water starts running in spurts before it becomes only slightly pinkish, at which point Ren plugs the bathtub and waits for the water to fill it up; he'll take a bit of rust for the chance to properly wash himself, because the last time had been in Konoe's camp a good ten days ago. He foregoes changing clothes because he has no change on him anyways, and while he could raid the closet of the family, that one's in the bedroom and Ren isn't going to go inside after Arsene made sure that he wouldn't see the bodies.

(It is unbelievably worse, seeing the people dead without any obvious signs of struggle, seeing unmarred bodies but for natural decay instead of gaping wounds on flesh. Even the infected and mutated shadows have become able to bleed and decay, the mutagen turning them into something tangible. Ren's run into unaffected shadows, covering from humans and mutated both, had run into people imprisoning shadows and using their natural abilities like fuel, had seen shadows torture humans to death and vice versa, because everyone was afraid of the strange.)

(A slime had stood vigil next to Morgana's grave with Ren, its soft mass deflated in sorrow. It had slinked away into the forest, and Ren doesn't want to know what had happened to it.)

--

Once the bathtub was filled to half, Ren takes off his crusted and matted layers of clothing, carefully and reverently clasps open his choker -- yellow, because it had been Morgana's collar once, before Ren had threaded a little iron chain into one of the bolt holes and the clasp to make it fit his neck -- and sets everything onto a dusty chair. Two candles illuminate him as he carefully wets a towel and wipes the worst of the grime off of himself, scrubbing at his skin until it is pink and raw, and then Ren carefully enters the tub. The water is freezing and smells metallic, but it is otherwise clean in a way that the rivers hadn't really been, and Ren relaxes inside and watches his skin pebble, traces the scars that cover him. Many are from the Metaverse, his skill in phantom thieving translating into his skills of survival for the ongoing apocalypse that they're having, and not for the first time Ren wonders if all of this is happening as a last huzza for Yaldabaoth, the not-god angry enough at its defeat that it would curse humanity. Many more he's acquired ever since the cataclysm, wounds like the five bitemarks, after each of which Arsene begs with him to be more careful, or all of the smaller and larger cuts he's gotten while he figured out how to survive in a wilderness that is trying to kill him.

Fifteen minutes into Ren's soak, Arsene shuffles into the bathroom, mask dimly lit and wings hanging loosely against his back. There's running water? He thinks-asks, surveying everything. Let me wash thine hair, Ren. He murmurs, and Ren blinks at him, at how wrong-footed the persona looks inside the regular bathroom inside of this regular apartment. Okay, Ren says, turning softly, water sloshing, until he can feel Arsene's claws in his hair. The persona scratches over Ren's scalp once, before he finds the shampoo and lathes it into Ren's dark curls, massaging it in until Ren's eyes droop, heavy with fatigue. Arsene doesn't stop his ministrations, slides his clawed fingers over Ren's shoulders and kneads into the flesh there, the only sound apart of the water his heavy breathing and Arsene's feathers shuffling.

You should also soak, Ren says after a while, turning slightly. It'll do you good.

Mh, is Arsene's answer, the persona stepping aside now that he's got no good excuse to keep touching Ren. Finish first, and then we'll see if there's still running water left. With that he's gone, probably to rummage around the apartment as well. Ren sighs, glances at one of the candles for a long moment, before he turns to find the body wash. It takes him about five minutes to feel clean again, and then he washes out all of the shampoo and carefully exits the tub, lets the water drain down before he starts to fill it up again, after which he starts to dry himself with a second towel. That's about when Arsene reappears, clean (if dusty) clothes in hand, and Ren blinks at the persona in surprise. These should be about thy size, he says, softly, and Ren has no words because Arsene had gone back into the bedroom to get those. I made the bed.

"Thank you," Ren murmurs. Arsene puts the clean clothes down, eyes Ren over critically, and then tugs at the towel still in Ren's hands. Ren lets him, watches as Arsene takes it, clutching it between his claws once before he carefully grabs hold of Ren's cauterized arm and gently towels the red skin dry. Ren knows that the persona feels guilty about it, can feel it himself across their bond, and so he lets Arsene do as he pleases. Claws flitter over Ren's skin before the towel follows, up his arm and over his shoulders and towards his other arm. Arsene holds it apart from Ren's body, gently, while he softly pats over Ren's flank and ribs, his stomach, pivoting around the human to dry his back, the pads of his fingers lingering over a nasty cut from a mutated shadow's garudyne that had hit Ren.

A shudder passes through him, a curl of heat low inside of his belly that has Ren's cheeks flush slightly, but he doesn't interrupt Arsene, stands still while the persona carefully patters the towel over Ren's groin, the soft fabric almost ghosting over his cock before Arsene nudges Ren's legs apart to reach at his testes, cupping each gently and continuing. Ren's breathing and heartbeat are picking up, but he doesn't say anything, the towel at his thighs now, Arsene still as careful as before. Only once he reached Ren's calves did Arsene stop, his mask low-lit, fire curling over his horns. "Thank you, Arsene," Ren murmurs as the persona stands up.

"Always," Arsene whispers, and they look at each other for a moment longer, before the persona turns around to put the towel away. The bathtub is full, too, and Ren watches Arsene dematerialize his clothes before he carefully enters the tub, sitting closer to the middle so that his wings don't get crushed by his body. Some of the tenseness in his shoulders leaves while Arsene moves to hug his knees, resting his head on top of them, one wing extended while the other is winched in. He looks tired as well, obsidian skin marred and discolored in patches, specks of white that hadn't been there before. They share the metaphysical scars on Ren's soul, after all, all of the ugly things, and Arsene's own conscience has him become mottled, their shared guilt over having to kill people a heavy weight to bear.

Leave, please, Arsene says, a breath of a thought, and Ren nods after ghosting his fingers along the lines of his flight feathers.

He exits the bathroom, closes the door slightly to allow Arsene more privacy because the persona is vain about his looks and currently ashamed of his appearance and actions, and turns towards the Morimiya's pantry in hopes of finding something edible so that he can stretch his own rations further. Ren's found some slightly stale crackers and beef pâté, both of which would suffice as dinner. He'll have to probably cook something tomorrow, but he doesn't want to disrupt the strange silence of the night. By the time he's eaten his food Arsene emerged, and Ren is staring at the couch -- now with a duvet and two pillows. The chair to the bedroom had been disturbed. "Do you think the couch can be opened?" He asks.

Arsene blinks placidly. Yes. I can also simply dematerialize, though.

Ren knows, but also... Stay. I don't want to be alone tonight.

(They end up huddled together, Arsene on his side and Ren curled into the crook of his elbow, covered in both the duvet and one wing, and it's the best rest he's had in a long while.)

First << >> Next

[rebelfell]

special delivery

eddie munson x fem!reader

A quiet night at home turns into something else entirely when Eddie Munson shows up to deliver your pizza.

Isn’t this how all mediocre pornos great love stories start?

18+ MDNI┃8.1k

cw: light alcohol/weed use, discussions of poor sex-periences, bed sharing, down bad eddie, fingering/oral (fem receiving)

I edged myself a little with this, it’s like a 7:1 ratio of fluff to smut with nothing but tensionnn in between. Just how I like it.

You didn’t mind being alone. Not really.

Truth be told, you kind of preferred a nice quiet night to yourself every now and again. It gave you a chance to read without interruption; to watch a long stretch of episodes of your favorite show you had seen a hundred times before; to indulge in a lengthened version of your skincare routine.

But lately you’d been having a lot of quiet nights.

Winter had settled fully in Hawkins, the frigid weather and barrage of storms lately making it difficult to go out at night or do much of anything other than sit inside and count the walls. And with Robin gone for the whole weekend, the relentless silence of your apartment only made it worse.

You made an honest effort to remedy the situation—sending a handful of texts to anyone you thought might be available, only to come up empty. Nancy and Jonathan were out celebrating some anniversary. Steve had a date with whatever girl he had conned into thinking he was charming enough to go out with this week. And Chrissy was fully buried underneath her coursework, but she “could definitely do something next week!”

So that was that. You knew Argyle was working his usual shift, so you hadn’t bothered to text him. Instead, dialing the number for Surfer Boy as you resolved to drown your sorrows in a pizza loaded with all the toppings Robin always gagged at whenever you suggested them.

It was impossible for you not to beam when the man himself answered, the roughness in his voice indicating he was currently surrounded by a fresh cloud of his beloved Purple Palm Tree Delight.

He was now managing the franchise’s first and only midwest location they decided to open after the California chain started recording a deluge of calls from Indiana and assumed it must be some sort of untapped market. Come to find out, the people in Hawkins were just calling the number on the side of Argyle’s bright yellow van they’d seen riding around town.

“That’s all?” he chortled at your order. “One small pizza? Are you and Buckley planning some kinda Battle Royale fight to the death or something?”

“She’s gone for the weekend,” you explained.

“Oh, really? All by your lonesome then, are you?”

His typically gravelly tone was tinged with a hint of mischief, but you didn’t pay it much mind. This was Argyle, after all. You knew him well enough by now not to try and decode anything that went on inside that wonderfully weird head of his.

“Well, with you at work there’s no one to keep me company, is there?” you teased, putting on a flirty affectation you just knew would make him blush.

“Baby doll, I’ll close up shop right now!”

His deep and throaty laugh made you giggle along with him as he relayed your order to the kitchen staff and then came back on the line to assure you that it would be there “lemony split.”

With dinner ordered, you started to assemble some essentials for your wild night on the sofa— oversized blanket, extra snacks, a small arsenal of face masks and serums. You even splurged a bit and lit one of your nicer candles, the fresh scent of bergamot filling up your living room as you headed into the kitchen to clean up.

About half-way through you doing your dishes came the soft tread of footsteps on the stairwell outside, followed by a bouncy and rhythmic knock being rapped on your front door.

“One sec,” you called out, shaking the remnants of soapy water from your hands and drying them on the thighs of your sweatpants.

Your hand closed around the door knob and you yanked it open only to be bombarded by a head of dark, wild curls and a pair of deep brown eyes that instantly made your mind go blank.

“What are you doing here?”

The words just burst out of you, sounding far harsher than you intended, and Eddie Munson’s lips twitched with the beginnings of a smirk as he looked you up and down.

“Nice to see you, too,” he chortled. “That how you greet everyone who brings you your dinner?”

Your gaze fell to the pizza box he held in his hands that you had missed entirely, too distracted by his eyes and his nose and his lips and those cute little dimples in his cheeks. Not to mention his stupid big hands with his stupid long fingers that were wrapped around your dinner…

“Sorry,” you said, squishing your eyes shut and shaking your head as though it would wipe away your lustful thoughts like an etch-a-sketch. “I just wasn’t expecting you. Or, um…I meant, I didn’t know you worked at Surfer Boy.”

“It’s a new gig,” Eddie said, his smile filled with as much wily charm as ever as he handed over the box. “Argyle convinced me to come on board. Decent hours and the money’s good.”

“Oh…sweet.” 

You nodded back at him and prayed you didn’t sound half as awkward as you felt. With one hand, you balanced the pizza box on your hip while the other reached for the cash you’d set out earlier on the little table by your door. But a frown covered your face as you glanced between the bills and the box you were holding that looked quite a bit bigger than it should have been.

“Something wrong?” Eddie asked. “Aw, shit—we didn’t fuck up the toppings, did we?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” you assured. “It’s just, I only ordered a small and this one’s a large.”

“Oh, yeah. Arg had them change it after he rang it in. He just wanted you to have some extra.”

You chuckled, “Really? I don’t know why, it’s just me tonight.”

“No Buckley?”

Eddie’s brows raised slightly, disappearing behind his twisty bangs as he looked past you inside your apartment. You swayed slightly, in an attempt to block his view of the little couch nest you’d built for yourself. His gaze returned to yours, eyes flickering with something like intrigue.

“You’re flying solo, then?” he asked.

“Pretty much. I mean, I called around a bit and everyone was busy. So…yeah.”

He tilted his head at you. “You didn’t call me.”

“Oh…”

Eddie’s lips quirked in a smile that actually made your breath catch. He didn’t sound offended, not like he was accusing you of anything. But his soft voice and the feigned (it was feigned, wasn’t it?) look of disappointment on his face made your chest radiate with warmth.

The truth was, you would have loved to call Eddie. You had actually hovered over his contact info in your phone more times than you cared to admit, only to keep chickening out at the last second.

“W-well, you’re working tonight,” you reasoned. “So, we couldn’t have hung out anyway.”

“Actually… Argyle cut me early,” Eddie said. “Turned out to be a slower night than he thought, so he said I could call it quits after this delivery.”

Oh. Oh. 

“Well, do you…” You swallowed hard, trying to bring some relief to your throat that had run dry. “I mean, did you wanna have dinner? Apparently, I’ve got plenty of food.”

Another weak chuckle trickled out of you as you held up the pizza box, telling yourself it must be the heat of the pie within making your palms sweat the way they were. Eddie’s dark eyes actually danced under the harsh fluorescent lights of your building’s breeze-through.

“That’d be great,” he said, flashing you a smile that made your knees wobble. “Wayne’s gone this weekend too. Trailer’s kind of lonely without him.”

“Okay! Uh, come on in.”

The sudden shrillness of your voice made you cringe inwardly as you stepped sideways for him to pass, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or at least he acted like he didn’t. He simply smiled as he came inside, pausing to toe off his boots and shuck off his leather jacket at the door.

He’d clearly dressed for the heat of Surfer Boy’s kitchen and not the bitter wind howling outside, clad only in a red and black flannel over a gray tank that seemed to cling to his lean frame as if by static electricity alone. His ratty black jeans taunted you with flashes of pale skin peeking through the holes in the knees and the smell of oregano filled your nose as he fluffed up his hair.

He looked a lot better than you did—particularly when you were in your lounge clothes, which weren’t exactly fetching.

Baggy and oversized, worn threadbare in more than a few places from multiple wears. Splattered with a myriad of tiny mystery stains no amount of washing could get out.

Nothing to be done about it now, you supposed.

Eddie had been to your place plenty of times for parties and movie nights, but that had always been with other people around.

Never just you. Never the two of you alone.

That realization and the nerves it induced made the back of your neck unbearably hot as you set the pizza on the coffee table and headed for the kitchen to retrieve plates and napkins—all of the dignified and civilized things you’d have to use now that you had an audience.

And alcohol. Definitely, definitely needed alcohol if you were gonna even attempt to be normal.

“You want a beer?” you asked from the fridge.

Eddie nodded as he followed into the kitchen and leaned against the cabinetry. His totally calm and casual demeanor only made you more anxious, your chest getting tight and your hands shaking as you pried the caps off two beers. You clinked your bottle against his and took a long draught, heart racing as you stared at the ceiling.

Chill the fuck out, you scolded yourself. He’s just a guy. It’s just pizza. It’s no big deal, it’s no—

“You okay?” Eddie asked, making your runaway train of thought come to a screeching halt.

“Yeah, totally,” you lied through your teeth. “Um… I guess I was fully in hermit mode already. I really didn’t expect to see anyone tonight.”

Let alone you, you finished internally.

“Sorry about that,” Eddie said. “I didn’t mean to, like, crash your whole evening.”

“No, no—it’s not like that at all,” you stammered, the words tumbling out of you in a rush. “I’m glad you’re here, really. It’s nice to have company.”

“Yeah? Okay, good.” He smiled into another sip of his beer. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

Your lips spread into a smile that mirrored his and a sort of quiet warmth passed between you. You found yourself staring into his eyes, holding his gaze until it flickered down your body.

He studied you in that soul-plundering way of his that made you feel all light and tingly all over.

“Here, you should have this back,” he said all of a sudden, “I feel kind of weird keeping it.”

You looked down just as he tugged the money you’d paid him with out of his pocket. He held it out to you, only to find your hand already pushing it back, fingers briefly closing over his fist.

“Eddie, no. No way,” you scoffed. “Don’t be silly.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you fixed him with a warning glare—a pretty withering one if you did say so yourself. One that made him nod reluctantly and sigh softly in defeat.

“Alright, at least let me contribute something,” he said, returning the cash to his pocket and instead producing a fat, pristinely rolled joint. Argyle’s handiwork, you were all but certain.

You grinned and clinked your bottle with his. 

“Done.”

Beers and plates and joint in hand, you and Eddie headed over to the sofa only for you to stop short when you remembered your former plans for the evening. He watched curiously as you cleared the table, your stomach even more unruly now with half a beer sloshing around inside of it.

”What’s all this?” he asked, indicating the various packets and bottles. You laughed nervously.

“It’s just skin stuff. I was gonna do a face mask while I watched a movie…because that’s just the rock and roll kinda lifestyle I lead.”

Your jittery attempt at a joke only made Eddie’s own smile widen as he plucked one of the packets from your grasp and held it up to read the label.

“Can I do one?” he asked.

You choked back another laugh, brow arching at him in disbelief. “Do you want to?”

“Kind of, yeah,” he chortled. “They look kinda like potions or something. Seems like fun.”

You rolled your shoulder in a shrug. “Then knock yourself out,” you said. 

And he did.

Eddie plopped himself down at one end of the sofa and ripped into the package he’d selected. It was branded as a “unicorn” mask, which really just meant it was made out of shiny, holographic paper that shone with rainbows when the light hit it. He admired the swirling colors briefly and then set about laying the mask over his face, his head suddenly turning to catch you staring.

“Am I beautiful yet?” he asked, playfully fluttering his long lashes at you.

You already were.

The thought popped into your head so quickly you almost said it out loud and you had to bite back the comment, your pulse starting to race all over again. You pressed your lips together as you nodded and focused all your attention on placing a pair of gel patches under your own eyes.

Eddie watched you tap them into place, smiling. “You do this a lot?” he asked.

“Every couple weeks or so. More often in the winter because the cold really fucks with my skin. Obviously.” You gestured at your face and sighed.

“I never noticed,” he said with a gentle shake of his head. “Always looks nice to me.”

The compliment made your face burn in spite of the cooling aloe patches and you shook your head, the tingling in your cheeks only increasing the longer his eyes lingered on you. With shaky hands, you reached for the remote and started flipping through the channels while Eddie dug into the pizza. The both of you hummed excitedly in unison as you landed on an old horror flick just as the opening credits had started to roll, the decision of what to watch made easy.

As you set the remote down and reached for your own slices, realizing Eddie had plated up two and placed them down in front of you, you couldn’t stop your eyes from dating sideways to look at him once more. But the moment you did, a loud laugh burst out and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to try and stifle it—failing miserably.

He had his tongue stretched out as far as it would go, the pink muscle wiggling wildly as he tried to guide the end of his pizza into his mouth through the too-small opening of his mask.

“Hang on, hang on,” you said, taking some mercy on him. “Let me help you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed, “I’m doing great over here.”

It only made you laugh harder watching Eddie as he kept trying to eat, now clumsily flicking out his tongue like a drunken chameleon and grimacing when he tasted some of the product on his mask.

He stilled, though, as you scooted onto the center cushion and began to further tear the slits around his mouth, your fingers trembling as they brushed the corners of his plush lips.

Too late, you realized how close your face had gotten to his. Your eyes nearly crossed you were staring at him so hard, trapped in his hypnotic gaze as his enormous eyes locked on yours. The deep brown, almost black, of them only looked more otherworldly like this, surrounded by swirls of silver and rainbows like he was some kind of alien or android. Blinking dumbly, as if coming out of a trance, you pulled your hands away.

“Um…better?” you asked, eyes darting away from his face and almost instantly returning.

Eddie tested how far he could unhinge his jaw, stretching his mouth open as far as he could, unencumbered by the chin portion of his mask. He brought his slice up to take a massive bite.

“Perfect,” he said, grinning widely through a mouthful of cheese and sauce.

You actually did manage to relax at least slightly the longer the night wore on, helped immensely by the joint Eddie lit and offered to you to take the first hit. It passed leisurely between you, each of your inhales making it easier to deal with the idea that your lips were basically touching his.

Another movie started up after the one you first put on finished, but you made no move towards the remote. Your body felt warm and relaxed from the high, limbs melding into the sofa cushions like you were becoming part of them.

And Eddie too seemed perfectly happy to spend his night exactly where he was. His unicorn mask sat discarded on top of his pizza crusts and he’d shifted down in his seat, knees spreading wide and filling your mind with…thoughts.

You kept expecting him to make some excuse to leave, freaked out that he’d caught you looking at him just a few too many times for comfort.

But he never did.

“I think this is the last of it,” Eddie said, staring at the tiny smoldering nub pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“Take it, it’s yours,” you smiled, letting your head squish against the back of the couch. 

Eddie shook his head. “C’mon, now,” he grinned back at you. “Sharing is caring.”

He crooked his fingers, motioning for you to move in closer as he brought the joint up to his lips and steadily inhaled the last hit. He shifted onto the center cushion and you mirrored his movement, his knee bumping your calf lightly as you tucked your feet beneath you, toes wiggling nervously.

With his free hand, he gently cupped the side of your face and tilted your head to the side as his own lips parted and you leaned together. 

A stream of smoke poured out of him and you breathed it in, holding it in your chest for a few moments before you exhaled it back at him. He smiled as your breath fanned over his face, his dimples showing as his cheeks pushed up fully. The sight made your own smile spread, pulling your bottom lip back with your teeth as his thumb softly caressed your jaw.

His lips parted again, a whisper of your name falling off them, sounding like a foreign language. 

You inhaled deeply again, trying to steady your racing heart, your whole body suddenly tingling in a way that was distinctly different from the way it did from the high. It didn’t do any good, though, not when Eddie’s head lifted slightly and you swore his eyes started to close—

A loud BEEP made you jump away, the moment shattered by your phone getting a text.

You instantly felt the loss of Eddie’s hand where it had been holding you, cold now in spite of all the blood currently coursing beneath your skin. You turned and fumbled about for your phone as it beeped again, almost more insistently.

Eddie retreated to his end of the sofa and you gave your head another forcible shake, trying to rid yourself of the shivers running rampant over your body. Whatever you imagined was just about to happen was surely not going to—the weed had to have your mind playing tricks on you.

“Ugh.”

The sound popped out unconsciously, irritation flaring just at the sight of the name attached to the message and making you recoil before you even opened it to see what it said.

“Jeez,” Eddie smirked at your distasteful noise, giving you a sly look. “Who’s that?”

“Nobody,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Just some guy I went out with a few times.”

Eddie sputtered slightly on the sip of beer he’d just taken, a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks and his eyes rounding slightly as he wiped his palm on the thigh of his jeans.

“Oh. Do I, um…do I need to, like, make myself scarce or something?”

A bitter laugh burst out at the implication and you started to shake your head a little too hard. “Ahh, no,” you told him flatly, “Not at all.”

Eddie’s shoulders relaxed, his smile returning, seeming almost a little pleased to hear that.

“How come?” he asked with a teasing smile, nodding at the rest of your skincare on the table. “You don’t wanna get him over here? Get him all nice and moisturized?”

“I’m good,” you assured, clicking off your phone and silencing it before laying it face down on the table. “Not exactly in the mood to beg someone to go down on me tonight, so—”

“Beg?” Eddie scoffed, taking another swig of his beer. “Who has to be begged to do that?”

Your gaze darted sideways, eyeing him curiously. 

“Uhh…all of them? In my experience, most guys aren’t all that into it. You know?”

“No, not really,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I fuckin’ love it.”

Your own drink stopped half-way to your lips and you chanced another glance at him. Your voice went quiet. Meeker than you would have liked. Lacking all the frankness with which he spoke.

“You…you do?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I mean, making a girl come on your tongue is like…”

He trailed off into silence, looking up at the ceiling as he searched for the right word, but you’d jumped back in before he could find it.

“You make them come? Just…just from that?”

“Ahh…” Eddie faltered now, staring at his lap and picking at the label on his beer with his thumb nail. “Not always. It depends on the girl. But, I dunno…maybe, like, ninety percent of the time?”

“Jesus Christ,” you gasped, eyes rounding with embarrassment when you realized you said it out loud. Beside you, Eddie shifted in his seat on the couch, turning himself towards you.

“Do you not come when they go down on you?”

You blinked back at him, almost too stunned to speak. “Well…no. They aren’t usually down there that long. I mostly just need it because the spit helps when I’m not wet.”

Holy shit. That weed must have been way stronger than you realized for these words to be spilling out of you like they were. Cheeks officially a raging inferno, you focused every speck of your attention on the movie flickering on the TV.

Eddie’s eyes never left your face, though. His expression only softened as he stared at you, his words coming out in a hushed whisper.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Your face only burned hotter from the way he said it. It’s not exactly pity in his tone, or filling his eyes, it’s more like…disappointment.

Disappointment in who, you weren’t entirely sure. And you sure as shit weren’t going to let this go on long enough to find out.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how we got on this,” you said. “This is way too much information for you.”

“No, no, that’s not what I—”

Eddie’s hand started to reach out for you, but you were already on your feet. 

Scrambling to gather up your soiled plates and desperate to look anywhere besides at him, you hurried into the kitchen to start cleaning up. The weed in your system was starting to turn on you, making your mind run rampant with competing thoughts, the most persistent of them being an echo of Eddie’s voice, hearing the same four words over and over and over again.

I fuckin’ love it.

Just the memory of him saying them made your stomach swoop and your core flutter, your hands shaking as you reached to turn on the tap.

“Can I just ask you one more thing?”

Eddie’s voice behind you made your shoulders tense, but you forced them to remain still—trying to look relaxed. The plates in your hands clinked against the sink basin as you set them down and turned slowly, resting your butt on the edge of the counter as you nodded at him.

He moved forward tentatively, setting down the beer bottles he’d brought from the living room.

“Do you like going down on guys?”

Your mouth fell open at the question and you had to quickly snap it shut. “Um…yeah,” you said after clearing your throat. “I like it fine.”

Truth be told…you really did like it. And with the right partner, you kind of loved it.

There was a kind of satisfaction you got watching even the most confident and charismatic guys be reduced to a simpering pile of putty as soon as your mouth came anywhere near their cock.

It was an intoxicating sort of power you felt when you drew the most desperate and eager sounds out of them—like when a guy slid into your mouth for the first time and just groaned in relief, like he had never felt anything as good as you in his life.

“Okay, then,” Eddie grinned, his eyes flickering as he watched your face. “So the person you’re with should like it too, right? He shouldn’t do it just because he has to. He should do it because he wants to make you feel good. The same way you want him to feel good.”

He took slow, careful steps forward as he spoke, the distance between you getting smaller with each. You felt your chest start to heave, trying to keep the furious pounding of your heart under control as Eddie’s body drew nearer.

He came to a stop in front of you, brown eyes trained on the space between your nose and chin. He licked his lips, running the flat of his tongue over the bottom one like he was imagining it was your own. Saliva flooded your mouth and you swallowed it down, lips trembling as they parted.

You thought you might be sick with anticipation, waiting for the touch of his mouth on yours. Because he was gonna kiss you, right? 

God, did you want him to kiss you…

Your grasp curled under the lip of the counter, nails digging into the wood beneath the laminate. Eddie’s eyes broke from yours, flitting down to see your hands clenched, like you were trying to rip off a chunk of it. His brow furrowed slightly and he took a step back, the absolute deflation you felt as he stepped away making your whole body slump as the tension flooded out of it.

It was so overwhelming, you had to look away, eyes landing on the clock over the stove.

“Oh, shit!” you gasped, making Eddie’s head jump back up. “Is it really that late?”

Midnight had come and gone according to the glowing green numbers without you so much as noticing. Eddie swallowed hard, his mouth falling open like he wanted to say something else, but no words came out. Instead, he busied himself with getting the emptied bottles he’d set down and tossing them in the recycling bin.

“I, um…I should get out of your hair,” he sighed, ringed hand rubbing the back of his neck.

You weren’t totally sure what possessed you to say what you did next. Something about the sight of his frowning face, the corners of his lips turned down in confusion or even disappointment, it was hard to say which. All you could think was that you didn’t want him to leave.

“You don’t have to,” you said suddenly.

Eddie’s stopped short and his spine straightened, his head turning slowly towards you like he wasn’t convinced he really just heard those words come out of your mouth. You shot him a small smile. 

“You can stay over…if you want.”

He stared back at you, doe eyes blinking at you in surprise. “Really?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying not to sound like your vocal chords were in a vice. “The roads are shit and it’s late. I mean…it’s only if you want. You certainly don’t have to—”

“No, no, no, that-that would be great, actually,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. He took a steadying breath and smiled as his eyes met yours again. “I’d really like that.”

With the sort of energy that would make a hummingbird jealous, you bustled around the apartment gathering a spare pillow and an extra blanket for Eddie while he brushed his teeth in the bathroom. You carried them over to the couch, hugging the linens tight to your chest. 

You thought about how they might smell like him in the morning. How he might wake up with his hair all big and messy from sleep, his eyes half-lidded with crust in the corners, his boxers slung low on his narrow hips, the small trail of hair that swirled just below his navel on display—

“Thanks,” Eddie said, making you jump when you realized he was behind you. 

Your heartbeat thundered in your eardrums as you turned around and held the linens out to him. His fingers met yours among the folds and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the contact.

“N-no problem,” you said, averting your gaze again as you headed down the short hallway.

You hovered at your bedroom door, glancing back over your shoulder at Eddie as he flicked off all of the lights except the one on the end table, peeling away his flannel to reveal his sinewy arms littered with tattoos. The sight made your cheeks pulse in time with your heartbeat. Among other things.

“Good night,” you said. 

Eddie’s head snapped up and he stared at you for a brief moment, his eyes running up and down your body, his bottom lip between his teeth like he was deep in thought about something.

“Good night,” he said finally. “Sleep tight.”

In bed, sleep evaded you. 

You lay there, splayed wide in the center of your mattress, arms and legs stretched out across the rumpled sheets you’d gotten yourself twisted up in too many times to count as you’d turned over and over and over and over, searching for a comfortable position. Finding none.

Any attempt at settling down for the night was impossible when you couldn’t shake this…this… incessant, obstinate, unrelenting need calling out for satisfaction. It was like your body could sense that Eddie was in the next room and was refusing sleep in favor of filling your mind with thoughts of what could happen, of what he might be doing, if you just went out there and went for it.

What if you did? Just strode down the hall and climbed on top of him in the dark? Whipped off your sleep shirt to bare yourself and let his hands and lips roam freely all over you? You could just about feel the cold bite of his rings on your skin, you were thinking about it so much.

The conversation you’d had earlier kept running through your head, his words still echoing in your mind and making you throb everywhere. 

I fuckin’ love it, he’d said. Blatantly. Plainly. Like it should be obvious. But you’d never heard anyone express that kind of affinity for eating a girl out.

The majority of the guys you’d been with, those who had been willing to do it at all, only seemed to be doing so under duress or out of obligation. Or worse, they spent the exact bare minimum amount of time down there in order to get you going, only to stop short, and wasted no time redirecting the focus to their pleasure.

Then, of course, they had all the time in the world.

It was hard to say why, but there was something about Eddie wanting to do it—even being eager to do so, that only made him hotter.

You huffed loudly and pushed the heels of your hands against your eyes, forfeiting the staring contest you were locked in with your ceiling.

This was so stupid. You were getting yourself all worked up, and over what? Eddie was most likely balls deep in a REM cycle by now, and if you went out there and made some kind of ill-conceived “move” on him there was absolutely, positively, no chance in hell he would ever—

Knock knock knock

The gentle raps on your door made you bolt upright in bed. They were so quiet, you thought maybe you might have dreamed them, painfully awake as you were. But then they sounded again, this time accompanied by Eddie’s hushed voice tentatively calling out your name.

“Yeah?” 

Your eyes zeroed in on your door knob, waiting with bated breath for it to turn, but Eddie spoke again before he dared to even touch it.

“Hey, um…can I come in?” he asked.

You tugged your sheets upwards, covering your exposed thighs as you inhaled a deep bracing breath. “S-sure,” you said, still despising the nervous way your voice wavered.

The door finally cracked open and Eddie poked his head in. A little sliver of light from the hallway illuminated your room and you could see his curls were now tied up in a bun, sitting low on his neck with a few short tendrils framing his face. It made it so that you could actually see his ears and you realized for the first time they were kind of cute. 

How the fuck could ears be so cute?

“Sorry to bug you,” he whispered. “But do you have an extra blanket or something? It’s, um…it's kind of cold out there.”

“Oh, shit,” you sighed in realization. “It’s probably the windows. One of them doesn’t close right. Uh, yeah, just let me—”

You started to climb out of the bed, only to freeze as your foot hovered over the rug. The big shirt you had worn to sleep in was long, but not that long. The hem of it barely skimmed the bottom of your ass and if you stood up, you would basically be flashing Eddie your underwear.

Maybe it was okay? It would only be for a second. And it was mostly dark, maybe he wouldn’t even notice? Or maybe you didn’t need to get out of bed at all…

“You know, um…” You licked your lips, daring yourself to look back up at Eddie. “You could just sleep in here. If you want.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered at that, dark brown irises black in the low light, filling with something you couldn’t quite place. Was it apprehension? Surprise? Excitement?

“You sure?” he asked, his voice still hushed.

You swallowed hard as you drew your leg back underneath the warmth of the blanket, nodding at him to confirm, your teeth gnawing at the fleshy insides of your cheek as you did.

He entered the room fully, revealing how he’d stripped down to nothing but his tank top and a pair of blue checkered boxers. As he pushed the door closed behind him and crossed over to the opposite side of your bed, your heart threatened to beat straight out of your chest. 

Your eyes briefly darted downwards only for you to avert them just as quickly—telling yourself it must be the dark playing tricks on you, making you think you saw his boxers were half-tented.

The mattress dipped as he settled into the bed with you and you felt a rush of heat that came off his body like a furnace as you both scooted down to lay flat. Your body was rigid as you resumed your staring contest with the ceiling, thundering heartbeat only picking up more speed when Eddie rolled over onto his side to look at you.

“Can you not sleep?” he asked, his voice coming out in a gentle rasp.

Your hair rustled against your pillow as you shook your head. “No. You?”

“Nope. I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about what we talked about,” he said slowly. “Earlier.”

You inhaled sharply, certain he had to be able to see the effect he had on you even in near pitch darkness. But was it really your imagination that you seemed to have a similar effect on him?

“Yeah?” you whispered.

Eddie nodded, his eyes dropping to your mouth, the tip of his tongue swiping across his bottom lip to wet it as he spoke.

“I was wondering if I could…if you’d like me to—”

“Yes.”

The word all but flew out of you, filled with heat and need. And no sooner had you uttered it was he rolling on top of you, his body pressing against yours, his rapidly firming length prodding your heat through your panties. His lips descended on to yours, making every part of you heave in response to his touch. He actually moaned into your kiss, both your lips and his vibrating with the sound. Every part of him moved with yours in perfect harmony, every curve and bulge of his body finding a home against your own.

It’s like you’re warm bread and he’s the butter, spreading smoothly across you and melting into your every crease and crevice.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this so long,” he panted out in between feverish kisses dotted along your neck, his teeth nipping at your racing pulse.

“Really?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, his hands gliding over the length of your body. “I dreamed about touching you…how you’d sound…what you’d taste like…”

“Jesus Christ.”

You had never felt like this before, your very being thrumming with energy and ready to go off like a firecracker as soon as someone lit your match. You could have chalked it up to the weed, or to the beer, or to the fact that you hadn’t been touched like this in so long—and even when you had been touched, it was nothing like this.

But ultimately you knew…the real reason was him.

“Feel good?” Eddie asked, his pink lips curled up in a catlike smile as he rolled his hips forward, pressing them against you in a filthy grind that had your back arching off the bed.

“Shit,” you gasped, breathless, “S-so good, Eddie—fuck.”

The way he was moving against you had your mind emptying rapidly. It was all you could do not to wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze him close to increase that sinful sweet pressure he was putting on your core. But Eddie was quick to give you more, pushing up on his hands so his hips married with yours and he could look down at the mess he was making of you.

“Eddie, I want you to fuck me,” you whined, voice all high and desperate. “I need it, please.”

His original offer had officially flown out of your head. All you could think about right now was him being fully seated inside of you, his cock stroking your walls, his thrusts reaching deep. He’d gotten you so wet just from kissing, him going down on you now was practically redundant.

“You want my cock already, huh?” he teased you lowly, leaning in close again, the tip of his nose touching yours. “Too bad.”

His gentle mocking tone and the way he purred so softly made every atom in your body tremble. You stared up at him with your hips squirming trying to chase the friction you so desperately needed as he started to shuffle further down the bed, making you whimper at the loss.

“What’s wrong?” he chuckled at your pitiful little sound. “You think I’m being mean?”

You nodded back at him and his giant eyes glinted in the dark, his handsome face full of mirth and mischief as his chest rumbled with a laugh. The sound of it rippled down your spine, making it go instantly rigid and then slackening like the crack of a whip. Oh, you were in trouble…

“Well, I am mean. And selfish too,” he gritted out, his fingers kneading at your waist, bunching the material of your t-shirt in his fists to pull it taught across your chest. “Because I’m gonna kiss this pussy all I want…all night long, if I feel like it.”

With his words dripping thick and sweet from his lips, he shifted even further down on the bed with a practiced swivel of his hips. He kissed his way down your body, pushing up the hem of your shirt to reveal the bare expanse of your stomach and hips, groaning again as he caught a glimpse of the underside of your breasts.

“I’ve…been waiting…way too long…to taste you…”

His voice slipped back into that lower register as he placed a line of delicate kisses to your navel in between his words. His head dropped lower, lower, lower until he met the apex of your spread thighs. A soft moan escaped your lips as he laved his tongue over your clothed slit, licking through the thin barrier until his spit had soaked through the cotton to mix with your arousal.

“Take them off,” you gasped, raising your hips to help him.

If he had decided to tear them, to rip them right from your body, you wouldn’t have minded in the slightest. But he curled his fingers around the elastic and dragged them down your legs, settling back on his calves to tug them off, the blunt edges of his fingernails raking lightly over your skin all the way to your ankles. It made gooseflesh bloom across every inch of you, all the way to your scalp as you pushed your head back into the pillow, so overwhelmed by the feeling.

He works infuriatingly slow. Teasing you, toying with you like it’s a big game. He kissed softly along your seam, nuzzling his face against your inner thighs, skimming his lips over your folds that are doused with your slick, not even bringing his tongue into play yet. It makes your clit just ache for him, the little bundle of nerves yearning for the attention he just won't give it.

Not yet.

Finally, finally, he placed one long kiss on your sensitive bead, popping off far too soon for your liking to murmur softly to you in the dark.

“Can’t believe you had to beg that loser to do this…I’d beg you just to let me do it…”

“Then do it, Eddie,” you groaned, bunching the sheets in your fists. “Please, please, just do it—”

You’re almost crying now you want him so badly, the anticipation making your chest tighten and your lungs constrict. All the amusement drains from Eddie’s face as he looks at you, doe eyes shining like they held every star in the galaxy as he studied your pained expression.

“Relax for me, baby,” Eddie soothed in a steady whisper, his palm rubbing across your stomach. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay? I promise.”

Keeping your gaze locked on his, you nodded back at him and then closed your eyes to take the deepest breath you could manage. He watched you silently, studying the way your chest rose as you inhaled, and the way you held the breath in for a five count before you released.

And just as your breath crested, just as you felt the relief of the oxygen flowing throug your body, he fixed his lips around your clit and sucked.

The noise that he dragged out of you didn’t even sound human. It was shock, it was calm, it was joy, it was confusion, it was elation, it was rage.

It was as though every emotion you’d ever felt in your whole life was thrown into a blender and that sound was the end result.

Your hips jumped, bucking into his face, but Eddie never faltered. He kept his hold on you, arms wrapped tight around your thighs to keep them spread open so he could continue to devour you. He didn’t just go down on you, his mouth and tongue and chin and nose moved together in any and every possible direction until you yourself had forgotten which way was up.

It made you doubt your very existence. No way was this real. No way could anything feel this fucking good. And yet at the same time, it was too real. The tickle of his hair on your inner thigh, his hot breath fanning over your most private skin, the noises he made muffled by your pussy lips. Every visceral detail swirled together, rushing you headlong towards oblivion.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Eddie said hoarsely. “Come on my tongue for me, beautiful. I gotta have it.”

He pulled his lips from you, his fingers plunging easily inside your gushing center, crooking up to rub that spot you only ever dreamed of someone reaching. As you clenched around his digits and he could feel how close you were, his tongue returned to your folds in long and languid swipes that ended in fluttering flicks and swirls.

He does everything so carefully, so thoroughly, that the brink he brings you to feels more earned than anything you’ve ever felt. Stars burst behind your rolled back eyes, tears squeezing out at the corners and spilling down your cheeks.

Your mouth fell open as you moaned in earnest abandon, chanting out his name in praise in between heaving breaths to gulp down air.

The aftershock seems to last longer than the orgasm itself, your legs twitching under Eddie’s firm grasp long after the explosive feeling had receded. He slid up to lay next to you, cradling you gently in his arms, out of breath himself as he watched you return to earth, his nose and mouth and chin all glistening with your spend.

“You okay?” he asked, hopeful and earnest, his cocky bravado long since dissolved.

“So good,” you gasped. “It was incredible, Eddie. Holy shit…”

His chest shook with a low laugh at your dazed expression. Your eyelids drooped, exhaustion trying to overtake you, but you forced it back. Suddenly filled with the urge to make him feel as good as you did, you let your hand drift toward his boxers, making his whole body shudder as your hand grazed across a damp spot there.

Wait…was that? No, not a chance. No way did he come just from eating you out.

“Easy, killer,” Eddie chuckled, reaching down for your wandering hand and lacing his fingers with yours to gently tug it back up and kiss it. “What do you want in there, huh?”

“Eddie, please,” you pouted up at him as your eyes fought to stay open. “I want more, I want to make you come too.”

“We will,” he assured you, his fingertips gently trailing across your forehead, down your temple, along your jaw. “Just close your eyes for a minute. Then we’ll do anything you want.”

The sigh you let out was a little huffy, but you couldn’t deny how appealing it sounded to rest your eyes—just for a minute. They start to flutter shut and the last thing you felt was Eddie’s warm breath on your ear as he leaned close to whisper,

“Good night, sweetheart.”

Sunlight came streaming through your blinds far too soon for your liking. Its warm rays splashed across your face as it rose in the sky and you withdrew reluctantly from your sleep.

A deep, blissful, fucked-out sleep like you hadn’t had in years.

Everything came into focus slowly as you woke.  The hum of the fan overhead pushing cool air down, the distant chirp of birds from the tree outside your window…the subtle weight of Eddie’s arm slung across your torso.

He was still asleep next to you, snoring softly with his face smashed into the lilacs printed on your pillowcase. You couldn’t be sure if he had fallen asleep holding you or if he reached for you at some point during the night and never let go.

Either option was equally enthralling.

His hair had come loose from his bun, curls now big and frizzy around his face like a lion’s mane. And even in sleep, there was a look of quiet satisfaction on his face. Contentedness, like he was in the middle of a really good dream. You even let yourself believe you saw the slight curve of a smile on his plush lips, one you were sure matched your own.

You reached out a hand and gently touched the fringe obscuring his large forehead, brushing them back to reveal the thickness of his eyebrows and the dusting of freckles along his nose and cheeks. Fuck him, if he wasn’t even prettier.

Moving carefully so as not to disturb his slumber, you rolled over onto your side and reached for your phone on the nightstand, looking for the time and instead finding a text from Argyle.

hope u enjoyed ur special delivery ;)

Thank you for reading. love you, mean it! 🍕

This has been gathering dust in my drafts for a minute now.

Been feeling the lack of inspiration/motivation to write lately real hard, so it was nice to go back to something that I really enjoyed writing and had a lot of fun with.

[reidmarieprentiss]

No More Misunderstandings

Summary: You have a big crush on Spencer, everyone can see it except for Spencer himself.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Tech Analyst fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: crushing, (un)requited feelings, bad communication, Spencer trying to flirt, gay Elle, Rossi not Gideon, happy ending, Elle is out but reader doesn't know

Word count: 9.4k

a/n: if this man ever asked me to hang out i would say yes in two seconds flat

main masterlist

Every day, you settled into the hum of computers and the soft glow of monitors that painted the walls of the BAU's technical analysis hub, affectionately dubbed the "bat cave" by those who knew it best. Your role as a tech analyst found you working side-by-side with the brilliant and bubbly Penelope Garcia, a woman whose personality was as colorful as her wardrobe. Despite the comfort of being shrouded in the semi-darkness of your tech-laden sanctuary, a certain type of light seemed to elude you—the spark of acknowledgment in Dr. Spencer Reid's deep, thoughtful eyes.

You harbored a crush so palpable that even the air in the room felt charged with your nervous energy whenever Spencer was near. However, your shy demeanor cloaked these feelings in a veil of secrecy that somehow, miraculously, Spencer himself never managed to pierce through. Everyone else on the team had noticed, from the knowing smiles of Derek Morgan to the gentle teasing of JJ, but Spencer remained blissfully unaware, his attention often drifting towards Elle Greenaway with an intensity that tugged painfully at your heart.

Penelope, ever the observant friend, never missed a beat. "Oh, honey," she would whisper, "it’s like you’re sending Morse code with those blushes and he’s living in a blackout."

Her words were gentle, tinged with humor and affection, yet each jest felt like a pinprick to your already tender sensibilities. Whenever Spencer visited the bat cave to discuss case details or gather information, your heart raced as you tried to provide him with everything he needed without tripping over your words or, heaven forbid, your own feet.

"Hey, Spencer," you would start, your voice a careful mixture of professionalism and the warmth you couldn’t keep at bay.

"Hello," he would respond, his eyes scanning the screens filled with data. His focus was razor-sharp, dissecting information with the same precision he used on everything but the emotional currents swirling around him.

Each interaction was a dance. You would inch towards openness, leaning in to catch a whiff of his cologne or to appreciate the subtle shift of his hair when he ran his fingers through it in concentration. But as soon as he glanced up, those hazel eyes like windows to an enigmatic soul, you would recoil slightly, cheeks aflame, words retreating as quickly as they had dared to emerge.

Later, as the screen showed live feeds of the team moving through their environments, Penelope would nudge you gently with her elbow, her voice low and teasing. "You know, if we had a dollar for every time you fumbled around that man, we could retire and buy an island in the Bahamas."

You’d offer a small, embarrassed laugh, grateful for the low lighting hiding the worst of your blush. "I just... I don’t know how to act around him, Penelope. What if he doesn’t..."

"Feel the same?" she'd finish for you, her tone softening. "Sweetie, the heart’s a funny creature. It doesn’t play by the rules of logic that Spencer loves so much. But who knows? Maybe one day, he’ll surprise you and actually look up from those case files and see what’s right in front of him."

The comfort in her voice was soothing, yet each day ended the same—with you watching Spencer, Spencer watching Elle, and Penelope watching over you, a guardian angel clad in technicolor, armed with an arsenal of jokes and just the right words to keep you smiling through the uncertainty.

—

The day had been rolling along as usual in the BAU's bat cave, the rhythmic clicking of keyboards providing a steady backdrop to the glow of computer screens. Penelope had excused herself for a quick bathroom break, leaving you alone amidst the towers of technology. Just as the door clicked shut behind her, the shrill ring of the phone sliced through the quiet, startling you slightly. Calls from the field were usually Penelope’s domain, her cheerful voice a soothing constant for the team. Today, it seemed, you would have to step into her shoes.

“Y/N speaking, what can I do for you?” Your voice wavered slightly, anxiety bubbling up as you prepared for your usual toggle through databases and security feeds.

When Spencer’s voice responded from the other end, a different kind of alertness prickled across your skin. “Hi, Y/N, we need to cross-reference known associates of the unsub with recent flight records. Can you pull up the lists and cross-check for any matches?”

Your heart thumped erratically, his voice weaving through the receiver like a familiar song that never failed to stir your soul. You tried to maintain a steady tone, hoping your voice didn’t betray the sudden nervousness that his presence, even just over the phone, incited. “Sure, Spencer, just a moment.”

As your fingers danced across the keyboard, the professional mask you wore each day slid comfortably into place. You were adept at your job, a fact that never faltered, even under the weight of your emotions. Quickly pulling up the necessary records, you began the process of cross-referencing, your mind briefly detached from the flutter in your stomach.

“Looks like there’s a match. Michael Davidson, on a flight from Atlanta to D.C. this morning,” you reported, a trace of pride threading through your words at the efficiency with which you’d located the information.

“Great, Y/N. Thanks,” Spencer’s voice came through, a hint of relief palpable even through the static of the connection. His appreciation, simple and straightforward, filled you with a warmth that went beyond professional satisfaction.

Hanging up, you let out a breath you’d been holding. Penelope chose that moment to breeze back into the room, her presence as effervescent as ever. Catching the tail end of your smile, she quirked an eyebrow playfully.

“Spill the beans, buttercup. You look like someone just handed you a golden ticket,” she teased, settling back into her chair.

“It was just Spencer needing some quick info,” you shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant as your heart continued to beat a staccato rhythm against your ribs.

Penelope’s smile widened, her eyes twinkling with unspoken understanding. “Oh, just Spencer, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, trying to brush it off casually. “Derek would never betray you by talking to me,” you teased, hoping to steer the conversation away from your flustered feelings.

Penelope’s eyes sparkled even more as she winked at you. “Oh, he’s allowed to have side pieces, my love. I’m a generous goddess.”

You burst out laughing, your nervousness momentarily forgotten as Penelope’s playful banter eased your tension. “I’ll let him know you said that,” you shot back, turning back to your screen, trying to focus on anything other than the residual warmth from talking to Spencer.

Penelope, never one to let you off the hook easily, leaned in closer. “Should I let Spencer know he isn’t allowed to have any side pieces then?” she asked, winking at you again, her tone as sweet as honey but with a hint of mischief.

“Penelope!” you gasped, feeling your face flush all over again. The blush you thought had faded returned with a vengeance as you turned away, hoping she wouldn’t see just how red you were.

She laughed, clearly pleased with herself. “I’m just saying, babe. The boy’s got options, but I think we both know his best one is sitting right here.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as you let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“Just doing my part to make sure he doesn’t miss any signals,” Penelope sang, tapping her keyboard lightly, her grin as wide as ever. You couldn't help but smile too, secretly grateful for her teasing. After all, it was these moments that made the crush a little more bearable.

—

During one of Rossi’s famed pasta-making sessions, a relaxed atmosphere filled his spacious kitchen, with the rich aroma of tomato sauce simmering on the stove and the sounds of laughter mingling with soft Italian music playing in the background. Rossi, the consummate host, guided everyone through the steps of making the perfect pasta dough, his hands moving with the ease of long practice.

You found yourself stationed next to Spencer, who was diligently kneading a mound of fresh pasta dough. His hands, beautiful and dexterous, worked the dough with a precision that was mesmerizing. The veins on his hands stood out, accentuating every deliberate movement, and you couldn’t help but be captivated by the fluidity of his motions. It wasn’t just his intellect that drew you in; even his seemingly mundane physical actions had a way of catching your undivided attention.

Derek and JJ, who were partnered up on the other side of the kitchen island, caught your fixed gaze and shared an amused look between them. Derek’s smirk grew as he nudged JJ, whispering loud enough for you to overhear, “Looks like someone’s more interested in the handwork than the handiwork.”

JJ chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she joined in the teasing. “Yeah, I think Y/N’s planning on writing a thesis on the manual dexterity of certain geniuses.”

Flustered, you tore your eyes away from Spencer’s hands, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You attempted to focus back on your own portion of dough, which had begun to stick to the counter more than it should. Spencer, oblivious to the exchange, looked up and noticed your struggle.

“Hey, you need to dust a bit more flour on the surface,” he said, his voice gentle, unaware of the reason behind your distraction. He reached over to sprinkle some flour on your dough and then on the countertop, his fingers briefly brushing against yours. The brief contact sent a pleasant jolt through you, further flustering you.

Rossi, ever the observant host, noticed the playful dynamic and decided to rescue you from your embarrassment. “Alright, everyone, let’s focus on the art of pasta! Y/N, why don’t you help me with the sauce?” he suggested, giving you a knowing smile as he handed you a wooden spoon.

As you helped Rossi stir the simmering sauce, carefully blending the herbs into the rich, aromatic mixture, you couldn’t help but cast furtive glances across the kitchen. There, Hotch had taken up the spot you vacated next to Spencer, now deeply engaged in the art of pasta making under Rossi’s enthusiastic instruction. While Hotch was methodically following Rossi’s guidance, Spencer’s attention occasionally drifted.

Across from them, Elle was rolling out her dough with a confident flourish, laughing at something Hotch had said. You caught Spencer's eyes as they met Elle's, a shared glance of amusement passing effortlessly between them. The ease of their silent communication was stark, their smiles syncing in a moment of private jest that seemed to exclude the world around them—including you.

That simple, silent exchange felt like a punch to the gut. The laughter and camaraderie around you suddenly seemed a bit dimmer, a bit more distant. It wasn’t just jealousy that twisted in your stomach—it was the aching realization of how much could be said in a single look when there was a real connection; a connection you feared might never form between Spencer and yourself.

You turned your attention back to the sauce, the spoon moving mechanically in your hand as Rossi continued to chat about the nuances of Italian cooking. He didn’t seem to notice your distraction, caught up in his culinary passion. But inside, your thoughts were swirling as tumultuously as the sauce you stirred.

Trying to shake off the sinking feeling, you focused on the positives—the laughter of your team, the comforting weight of the wooden spoon in your hand, the delicious smell that filled the kitchen. But despite the festive atmosphere, a part of you remained reserved, quietly nursing the tender hope that maybe, just maybe, one day Spencer would look at you with the same warmth and understanding he so effortlessly shared with Elle. Until then, you resolved to keep smiling, keep stirring, and keep hoping.

—

The BAU briefing room felt unusually empty without Penelope's vibrant presence, Elle's keen insights, and Derek's charismatic confidence filling the space. With them on vacation, the dynamic had shifted, and you found yourself stepping into roles that stretched beyond your usual behind-the-scenes expertise. The weight of Penelope's responsibilities now rested squarely on your shoulders, a challenge you accepted with both determination and a hint of trepidation.

As the team gathered for the briefing on the new case, Hotch turned to you. "Y/N, could you walk us through the case description and the current leads?" His voice was calm, authoritative, yet imbued with a supportive undertone that did little to ease the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Nodding, you stood, remote in hand, feeling every pair of eyes in the room settle on you. Public speaking was not your greatest fear, but it was hardly your favorite endeavor—especially not with Spencer's intense gaze locked on you. It was as if his eyes were a pair of spotlights, illuminating not just your words but every minute reaction and emotion that flickered across your face.

As you began to outline the case, detailing the patterns and possible psychological motivations of the unsub, Spencer's scrutiny never wavered. His stare was not judgmental nor dismissive; rather, it was analytical, perhaps even a bit curious, as if he were trying to read the nuances of your presentation, to understand not just the facts but the person delivering them.

"Based on the geographical profiling and the behavioral pattern, we believe the unsub may be operating within a ten-mile radius of downtown," you explained, pointing to the map projected behind you. Your voice steadied as you delved deeper into the analysis, the familiar terrain of data and evidence providing a solid foundation beneath your initially shaky confidence.

Spencer's focus, rather than rattling you further, began to foster a sense of resolve within you. You found yourself speaking more confidently, your nerves tempered by the realization that this was still your team—your family in all but blood. They weren't here to judge; they were here to listen and to learn from what you had to offer.

As the briefing wrapped up, Hotch nodded in approval. "Good work, Y/N. Keep us posted on any updates from Garcia's systems until she returns."

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. Glad it was over, you were already preparing to scamper back to your office when you heard a voice that sent a familiar shiver down your spine.

“Y/N?” Spencer's voice, calm yet inquisitive, caught your attention.

You spun around to face him, trying not to let your fluster show. “What’s up?”

“Can you put the map back up on the screen, please?” he asked, already standing by the large projection screen.

“Ye–yeah, of course.” Your fingers fumbled with the remote as you quickly reactivated the display, bringing the map back onto the screen.

“Here,” Spencer said, still not looking back at you. “Come look at this.”

You walked over to stand beside him, your eyes inadvertently drawn to his long fingers as they traced paths along the map, pointing out specific areas. The same hands that had mesmerized you earlier were now gliding over the screen, drawing you into his thought process.

Spencer started talking about the geographical profile, rattling off information with his typical rapid-fire brilliance. But what took you by surprise was how he spoke to you—not as the team’s tech analyst, but as if you were another profiler, someone he wanted to consult. This was new, and it left you momentarily stunned. He’d never done this before.

“Spencer?” you asked quietly, your voice barely audible in the spacious room. He hummed in response, still focused on the map as he tugged thoughtfully at his bottom lip—a gesture you’d come to adore and envy.

“Why are you asking me about this?” you continued, your curiosity growing along with your nerves. “Why not Rossi? Or Hotch?”

Spencer paused, finally turning to face you, his eyes filled with the same focused intensity he usually reserved for solving cases. “Because you see things differently,” he said softly. “You have a different perspective, and that’s valuable. Sometimes it’s not just about profiling. It’s about how we approach the data, and you… you understand patterns in a way that’s unique.”

His words caught you off guard, but they filled you with an unexpected warmth. You weren’t just the tech analyst who plugged in the data—they saw you, Spencer saw you, as part of the team, as someone with valuable insights.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you held his gaze for a moment longer than you intended. “Thanks, Spencer,” you whispered, trying to suppress the blush creeping up your neck.

He smiled, a small but genuine curve of his lips, before turning back to the map. “Now, what do you think about this area here?” he asked, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for you two to be collaborating like this.

For once, you weren’t just lost in thoughts of him—you were part of the conversation, and it felt good.

After you felt you'd helped all you could, you excused yourself back to your office, ready to sink back into the more solitary part of your work. However, Spencer seemed to have other plans, as he walked alongside you, his footsteps synchronized with yours, indicating he wasn't quite done talking. His expression was one of mild concern, a usual precursor to his deep dives into various subjects.

As you walked, he continued to unravel his thoughts about the case, tying loose ends and circling back to previous points with a precision that was nothing short of impressive. It was typical of Spencer to thoroughly dissect each aspect of a case, often taking tangential routes in the conversation that surprisingly led right back to the main topic, a testament to his prodigious mind.

However, as engrossed as he was in discussing the case, his next words veered sharply from the professional to the personal, catching you completely off guard and momentarily stalling your mental gears. The shift was so sudden that it took a moment for you to register what he was actually asking, pulling you out of your case-focused mindset and into a more introspective space. This unexpected question not only showed his human side but also reminded you of the depth of his observational skills, not just in work but in personal matters as well.

"How is Felix, by the way?" Spencer asked, an innocently curious tilt to his head as he regarded you, his pace slowing slightly.

"What?" The name jolted you, an echo from a past chapter of your life you hadn’t opened in ages, and certainly not one you had expected Spencer to know anything about. You blinked, momentarily confused, trying to piece together the leap in conversation.

"Felix? How are they?" Spencer repeated, his interest seemingly piqued by your reaction—or perhaps just his natural inclination toward thorough understanding.

You paused, standing now in the doorway of your office, the background hum of computer servers providing a soft soundtrack to this unexpected moment. "Um, I don't know," you admitted, still trying to navigate the strange turn the conversation had taken.

"Oh, I’m so sorry, did you two separate?" Spencer’s tone was filled with genuine apology, his face reflecting concern.

You managed a small, somewhat awkward laugh, finding both the absurdity and the sudden intimacy of the conversation slightly overwhelming. "Well, yes. A long while ago." Your response came out lighter than you felt, the surprise of the question making your heart race for reasons other than your usual nervousness around Spencer.

As Spencer absorbed your response, his expression remained unreadable, a common trait when he was deep in thought or processing information. He nodded, perhaps filing away the conversation for later reflection, before excusing himself with a polite but somewhat distant farewell. His departure was quick, efficient, the way he typically transitioned back to work, yet it left a trail of questions in its wake.

You watched him go, a blend of relief and curiosity mingling in your thoughts. The inquiry into your personal life was uncharacteristic of Spencer, who usually maintained a strict boundary between professional and personal discussions, at least when it came to initiating such topics himself. The interaction lingered in your mind, an outlier in the usual pattern of your interactions.

"Maybe it's because Elle isn't here," you thought silently, turning back to your computer.

After leaving your office, Spencer quickly texted Elle to update her that you were no longer seeing Felix, contrary to their assumption. Elle replied enthusiastically with two thumbs up, urging him to ask you out soon or she would take the opportunity herself. 

—

Throughout the week, with Penelope, Elle, and Derek away, the dynamic at the BAU shifted noticeably. Spencer seemed to step out of his usual reserved demeanor, engaging more frequently, particularly with you. His attempts at conversation often appeared to teeter on the edge of something beyond mere professional interest, though it was so subtle that it often flew under your radar.

Tuesday morning, Spencer leaned against the counter, watching you struggle with the temperamental coffee machine that had decided today was the day to revolt. "You know, statistically, manual coffee presses have a lower failure rate compared to electric ones," he commented, a slight quirk to his lips.

You glanced at him, chuckling lightly, "Is that so? Maybe I should switch, then."

"Yeah, and they make better coffee. Maybe I could show you how to use one sometime?" His tone was casual, but there was a tentative note to it, almost hopeful.

As the coffee machine finally sputtered to life, producing a somewhat decent cup of coffee, Spencer’s offer lingered in the air, subtly altering the atmosphere between you. His suggestion about the manual coffee press had been light, almost playful, but it carried an undercurrent of personal interest that left you unexpectedly flustered. Despite this, you masked your reaction with a casual nod, trying to maintain an even keel.

"Sure, I could always use better coffee," you responded, your voice steady despite the slight quickening of your heartbeat. You focused on fixing your coffee, adding just the right amount of cream and sugar, using the mundane task as a moment to collect your thoughts.

Spencer watched you for a moment, perhaps sensing the shift in your demeanor but respecting the boundary you subtly enforced with your nonchalant reply. His smile was gentle, not pushing further, as he too turned his attention back to preparing his own drink.

Wednesday at lunch you sat in the break room flipping through case files, Spencer slid into the seat across from you with his own lunch—a homemade sandwich seemingly crafted with meticulous care. "I read somewhere that sharing meals can enhance group bonding and individual rapport," he began, looking directly at you with an earnest expression.

You looked up, smiling at the factoid, you loved hearing Spencer talk. He was always so endearing. "That sounds about right. Food does bring people together."

"Maybe we could test that theory. There's a new Thai place nearby that’s supposed to be great," he suggested, his voice smooth but slightly hurried.

"That would be an interesting experiment," you agreed, your thoughts inadvertently glossing over Spencer's subtle personal invitation. Instead, your mind wandered to the social dynamics of the team, or perhaps more pointedly, the possibility of Spencer going out with Elle without having to extend a direct invitation—an idea that stoked a twinge of jealousy, burning in your stomach like an ugly green monster. 

Spencer nodded, his expression shifting subtly as he detected the undercurrent of your thoughts, interpreting them as disinterest in a personal outing. He tried to mask any hint of disappointment, maintaining his typical composed demeanor. Internally, however, he wrestled with the sting of what felt like another missed connection, another attempt at reaching out quietly rebuffed.

"It would be a great way to explore some new flavors... maybe just the two of us first, to see if it’s worth recommending to the team?" His tone was measured, carefully modulating between casual and sincere, revealing his hope that this might pave the way to a more personal connection between the two of you.

Despite his clear wording, your mind twisted his intentions, clouded by the assumption that his ultimate aim was to impress Elle upon her return. This idea gnawed at you, the thought of being potentially used as a stepping stone in Spencer’s strategy to engage Elle more personally. It tainted the sincerity you might have otherwise perceived in his proposal.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan," you responded, trying to mask your feelings with a nod and a polite smile. "Testing it out sounds sensible... then we can tell Elle and the rest if it's good." Your voice carried a hint of forced cheerfulness as you inadvertently redirected the focus back to Elle, reinforcing your misinterpretation of Spencer's motives.

Spencer noticed the subtle shift in your tone, the slight stiffness in your smile. He paused, a flicker of confusion crossing his features as he tried to gauge whether his message had been misunderstood. "Yes, of course," he agreed, his voice faltering slightly as he picked up on your emphasis on Elle. Disappointment edged into his heart, sensing a barrier he hadn't anticipated—one that perhaps wasn't his to cross just yet.

He nodded slowly, offering a gentle smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll send you the details later then," Spencer added, stepping back to give you space, his mind busy piecing together where the conversation had veered off track.

Thursday while you were digging through old case files in the archives, Spencer wandered in, ostensibly looking for a book. He lingered by your side, helping to shift the heavy tomes. "You know, there's this book on cognitive science I think you'd really like. It talks about pattern recognition and emotional intelligence in ways I think you'd find fascinating," he offered, his fingers brushing against yours as he handed you a different file.

"Sounds intriguing," you responded, your attention still partially on the file in your hands. The hint of a smile played at the corners of your mouth, touched by the realization that Spencer was not only paying attention to your interests but was actively thinking about ways to engage with you on a more personal level.

"I could lend it to you. We could discuss it over coffee?" Spencer's suggestion came with a hopeful undertone, as gentle and tentative as the expression in his eyes.

Your reaction, however, was immediate and unexpected—a sudden choke on your spit as his words caught you off guard. A brief fit of coughing ensued, and Spencer's concern was quick to surface. He reached out instinctively, placing a comforting hand on your back with a gentle touch. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.

The unexpected contact made you jolt, a reflexive response to the sudden intimacy of his touch. Realizing your reaction, Spencer quickly withdrew his hand, a flash of disappointment crossing his features as he stepped back, giving you space.

"Yeah, I'm fine, sorry," you managed to laugh it off, though your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You tried to smooth over the moment, still recovering from the unexpected cough and the even more unexpected contact.

Spencer's response was gentle, a soft nod accompanying his words. "It's okay, I'll, uh, see you upstairs," he said, stepping back with a hesitant smile. His decision to not press the coffee invitation further reflected his respect for your comfort, but inwardly, he felt he might have missed his opportunity for the day.

As he turned to leave, the brief contact and your embarrassed reaction replayed in his mind, leaving him wondering about the right approach to take next time. His intentions had been straightforward, but the execution hadn't gone as smoothly as he hoped. The way your eyes had widened, the laughter that followed the cough—it all suggested a mix of emotions that he couldn't quite decipher.

Watching him walk away, you felt a pang of regret. His retreat made you realize that your reaction might have been misinterpreted as discomfort, rather than the surprise and nervous excitement you actually felt. The idea of discussing a book over coffee with Spencer genuinely appealed to you, and you wished you could convey that without the awkwardness of the moment overshadowing it.

Gathering your thoughts, you considered reaching out to him later to clarify your interest, maybe even suggest a specific day for that coffee. The day hadn't gone as either of you planned, but it wasn't over yet, and perhaps there was still a chance to turn it around.

Friday afternoon as you both waited for the elevator, Spencer tried again, this time a bit more directly. "Did you know that the probability of meeting someone compatible is surprisingly high within work environments?"

You raised an eyebrow, trying to steady the rapid thumping of your heart. "Really now? I guess we’re in the right place, then."

"Yes, exactly," Spencer agreed, a bit more eagerly than you expected. "It’s like... finding the right piece in a puzzle."

"Like solving a case?" you asked, your voice shrinking with uncertainty, afraid that, once again, he had someone else in mind—someone who fit into his world effortlessly, maybe a profiler like Elle.

"Yeah," he smiled warmly, his eyes soft as they focused on you. "Just like solving a case."

Your heart cracked a little at his words. You interpreted the metaphor differently, convinced he was searching for someone like the other brilliant profilers on the team—someone you believed you could never be. With a forced smile, you said quietly, "Well, looks like you need a profiler-shaped puzzle piece then."

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his face as you stepped into the elevator. He stood there, frozen, not understanding the weight behind your words or why you seemed so distant.

As the elevator doors slid shut, he replayed the conversation in his mind, his heart sinking as he realized something wasn’t connecting. He had been trying to tell you, in his own way, that he was interested in you, that you were the piece he was talking about. But somehow, despite his best efforts, the message kept slipping through your fingers. Why weren’t you getting it? Why did every attempt seem to fall short?

Spencer watched the elevator descend, a sinking feeling settling in his chest. He had been so certain of his feelings for you, and yet, with every attempt, it felt like they drifted further away, lost in the unspoken misunderstandings between you.

—

When the freshly bronzed trio returned from their vacation, Spencer, seemingly on edge, wasted no time in seeking out Elle, his face etched with a mix of hope and frustration.

“So? Did you do it?” Elle asked eagerly as soon as they were within speaking distance, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Did she say yes?”

Spencer’s response was laden with disappointment. “Every time I try to ask her out, she thinks it’s a friendly suggestion, or—or she even mentioned you one time like I was thinking about you!” He ran his hand through his hair in exasperation, clearly puzzled by the recurring miscommunication.

Elle couldn’t help but laugh slightly, though her lips were closed, trying to mask her amusement at the situation. Spencer, on the other hand, whined in annoyance, “What?” He genuinely didn’t understand what he was missing.

With a fond smile, Elle prodded further, “Reid, how did you ask? And what did she say?” Her voice was gentle, coaxing him to unpack the details.

Spencer recapped all the moments from the past week—the coffee machine incident, the lunch invitation, the casual chat in the archives, and the awkward elevator conversation. Each retelling showcased his subtle, cerebral approach to what he thought were clear invitations.

“Oh, boy genius,” Elle said teasingly once he finished, her tone light but her words cutting to the heart of the issue. “I think I see the problem here.”

“What? What is it?” Spencer asked, desperation and confusion in his voice.

Elle placed her hand on his arm, a gesture meant to be comforting but one that did not escape your notice, intensifying the ache in your heart. “She thinks you’re interested in me!” Elle revealed, her insight sharp.

“Why would she think that?” Spencer asked, his bewilderment evident. The connection between his actions and your perception seemed utterly foreign to him.

Elle’s explanation was straightforward, “Because, Spencer, every time you make an attempt, it’s so subtle and wrapped in layers of intellect that it’s easy for her to miss the romantic intent.”

Her words seemed to pierce through the fog of confusion surrounding Spencer. The realization that his attempts at expressing romantic interest were getting lost in translation—or rather, lost in his own intellectual approach—was a revelation. He nodded slowly, the gears turning as he processed this new insight.

“Plus, if she’s mentioning me and no one else, she must think you’re looking for ways to take me out!” Elle added, emphasizing her point with a light chuckle, though her eyes remained sympathetic to Spencer’s plight.

The weight of Elle’s explanation settled heavily on Spencer. It dawned on him how his interactions, though well-intentioned, might appear to others, especially to you. His style, inherently analytical and often indirect, had inadvertently sent the wrong signals, steering your thoughts towards a narrative where he was interested in Elle rather than clarifying his feelings for you.

This misunderstanding struck a chord within him. Spencer had always prided himself on his communication skills when it came to the nuances of unsubs and case theories. Yet, here he was, stumped by personal emotions and interpersonal communications that veered off course.

“Okay, so... I’ve been too subtle,” Spencer acknowledged, almost to himself as much as to Elle. “And she’s misreading the subtlety as disinterest—or worse, interest directed at someone else.”

Elle nodded, squeezing his arm gently. “Exactly, Spencer. You’re thinking like a profiler trying to decipher hidden meanings, but sometimes, directness is key. Maybe it’s time to just tell her how you feel, plainly and clearly. No puzzles, no hints.”

“But—but what if she’s not interested?” Spencer stammered, the creeping sense of insecurity wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. His confidence from earlier was starting to erode. “I mean, she did turn me down on multiple occasions,” he added, his voice softening with self-doubt.

Elle sent him a playful glare, her expression one of disbelief. “Be serious, Reid,” she said, her tone firm but affectionate. “Everyone here can see that she’s into you. Ask anyone.”

Without giving Spencer a chance to stop her, Elle raised her voice, calling across the room, “Hey, JJ!”

Spencer's eyes widened in panic, his face flushing. “Elle! No!” His voice cracked as he tried to stop her, but it was too late.

JJ approached the two of them, a curious smile on her face as she looked between Spencer and Elle. “What’s up, you guys?” she asked, her easy going demeanor not yet aware of the situation she was about to walk into.

“Do you think Y/N is into anyone? Should we set her up?” Elle asked with a mischievous smirk, clearly enjoying Spencer’s discomfort.

JJ’s reaction was immediate—she burst into laughter, glancing between Elle and the now-mortified Spencer. “Are you kidding?!” she laughed, unable to believe the question was even being asked.

“No! Do you have anyone in mind?” Elle pushed, her smirk widening as she kept the act going.

Spencer looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, his mortification plain as he stood there frozen. His mind raced, desperate to find a way to steer the conversation away from himself. But JJ, still chuckling, fixed her gaze directly on Spencer, her expression turning to amused confusion.

“Spencer? Duh! She’s basically in love with you!” JJ declared, her blunt response leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Spencer blinked in disbelief, his mind stumbling over the directness of JJ's words. "W-What?" he stammered, his heart pounding in his chest.

JJ just shook her head, laughing softly. “Reid, it's so obvious. Trust me, you should ask her out.”

"Right," Spencer exhaled heavily, the weight of his nerves tangible in that single word. His eyes followed JJ as she walked away, her knowing smile and shake of her head a clear sign that she was rooting for him.

Elle, observing the entire interaction, turned back to Spencer with a look of determination. “Do you believe me now? You just need to be blunt,” she said firmly, reinforcing the advice with her unwavering gaze. Her stance was one of staunch support, wanting to push Spencer past his habitual overthinking.

Spencer nodded, feeling a bit more fortified by the support of his colleagues. Elle’s insistence on being blunt was exactly the nudge he needed. It was clear that subtlety had not served him well in this arena, and it was time for a change in strategy.

—

Throughout the week, Spencer made several more attempts to ask you out, each time with a bit more directness than the last, but somehow the message never quite landed. Each time deepening his frustration and your oblivious disappointment.

Spencer joined you at the coffee machine again, a site of many a casual encounter but today, he was armed with determination. "I was thinking," he began, carefully measuring his words, "that maybe you and I could try that new café downtown this Saturday."

You smiled, stirring your coffee absentmindedly, your mind on a deadline you were close to missing. "That sounds like a great break from work. It’ll be good to get the team out and about. Should I send an email to everyone?"

Spencer’s heart sank a little. "Uh, well, I meant more like a... never mind. Yes, let’s get everyone involved," he conceded, hiding his disappointment.

In the midst of discussing a particularly complex case, Spencer tried to weave in a personal invitation as naturally as he could. "And after we wrap this up, maybe you’d like to join me for dinner? I know a place that’s quiet, great for discussing... cases."

You nodded, focused intensely on the case details. "Oh yeah! I already told Pen I’d grab dinner with her after the case, do you want to join us?"

Spencer’s heart sank just a bit as he adjusted his glasses, a gesture that had become a telltale sign of his internal resignation. His intention of a quiet dinner, meant to create a private space for you and him, vanished with your invitation to Penelope. Still, he managed a smile, not wanting his disappointment to show.

“Sure, that sounds great,” Spencer replied, trying to keep his tone light and cheerful. Inside, however, he was strategizing his next move, wondering how he could ever convey his feelings without the constant backdrop of the team.

As the day progressed, his mind kept circling back to the conversation. He appreciated your inclusiveness—always making sure no one felt left out, a trait he admired deeply. Yet, he couldn’t help but wish for a moment where it could just be the two of you, away from the dynamics and distractions of the team.

As you both walked to the parking lot after a long day, Spencer decided to be as clear as he could. "I enjoy spending time with you," he said earnestly. "I was hoping we could maybe go out this weekend, just you and me. What do you think?"

You paused, turning to face him with a puzzled smile, unaware of the mounting frustration behind his calm demeanor. "Sure. What do you want to do? I heard of a nightclub that's supposed to have a disco on Saturdays, we could see if everyone is interested?”

Spencer’s patience, worn thin from repeated attempts, finally faltered. “That doesn’t really sound like my scene,” he replied, a note of desperation creeping into his voice as he motioned between the two of you. “Could we go somewhere more subdued? Just us?”

The simplicity of his request, paired with the intensity of his gesture, made you pause. "You want to hang out? With just me?" you asked, a hint of confusion lacing your words.

“Yes!” Spencer exclaimed, his voice echoing a bit louder than he intended in the quiet space between conversations around you. His hands were in the air, a gesture of his exasperation and earnestness. Realizing how his reaction might have seemed, he quickly lowered his hands and softened his tone. “I mean, yes, I would like to spend time with you. Just us. Maybe somewhere quiet where we can talk. Just... talk.”

Your heart was beating so fast you could barely contain it, “Just the two of us?” 

The realization struck you fully now, the words "just the two of us" hanging in the air, tinged with possibility. Spencer nodded, his eyes earnest and hopeful, watching for your reaction.

"Yes, just the two of us," he confirmed, his voice steadier now, filled with a quiet intensity. His gaze never wavered from yours, as if trying to convey all the sincerity he felt directly into your heart.

Your heart raced with the understanding of what he was asking, the implications of this simple request suddenly reshaping the narrative you had constructed in your mind about his feelings. The thought that Spencer, with his brilliant mind and shy demeanor, wanted to spend time alone with you, not for a case discussion or team outing but for something personal, sent a thrill of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation through you.

"Yeah, Spencer," you grinned, your heart still racing but excitement slowly overtaking your nerves. "That sounds nice. Um, I'm free Saturday."

"Saturday works for me," Spencer nodded, his own smile broadening with quiet confidence. "I'll call you?"

You nodded quickly, almost too eagerly, but you didn’t care. "Yeah, mhm, that sounds perfect."

For a moment, you both stood there, a shared anticipation buzzing in the air between you, neither wanting to break the connection just yet. When Spencer finally turned to leave, you found yourself smiling uncontrollably, the prospect of Saturday lingering in your mind, a warmth spreading through you that hadn't been there before.

—

Your excitement about the upcoming date with Spencer bubbled within you, yet you chose to keep it close to your chest. The thrill of it all felt so fragile, like a dream you didn’t want to jinx by sharing too soon with the rest of the team. This cautious optimism marked your days, turning ordinary moments into a series of hopeful glances at the calendar as Saturday approached.

Meanwhile, Spencer found himself seeking counsel from Elle, who was all too eager to lend her expertise, not just on potential date activities but on the more intimate aspects of dating as well, particularly women. Knowing Spencer’s limited experience—his only kiss having been with Lila Archer during a particularly intense case—Elle took it upon herself to offer some advice.

“Okay, Spencer, listen,” Elle began, her tone both serious and sisterly. “If the moment feels right and you think you want to kiss her, make sure you read her signals. It’s all about mutual understanding and respect, right?”

Spencer nodded, absorbing every word. Elle continued, “Make eye contact, see how she responds. If she seems receptive, maybe lean in halfway and let her meet you the rest of the way. It’s a two-way street.”

“Halfway,” Spencer repeated, mentally noting the advice. Elle’s directness and her willingness to discuss these details without any embarrassment provided him with a strange comfort.

“And, Reid, just be yourself. You’re a great guy. Let that show,” Elle added, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Spencer felt nerves and gratitude at Elle’s advice, it was straightforward and practical, and helped ground him. He trusted her judgment, appreciating her sharing of her personal experience, especially when it came to navigating relationships—something he found infinitely more complex than the most puzzling cases.

—

The phone call on Saturday morning added to the bubbling excitement of the upcoming date. Spencer’s voice was clear and a tad nervous, which you found endearing. He promised a unique experience and asked you not to wear black, a request that piqued your curiosity and set your mind racing with possibilities. What kind of place would require such a specific dress code? The mystery only heightened your anticipation.

You quickly texted him your address, along with a playful note about your curiosity regarding the attire guidelines. Spencer replied with a simple smiley face, keeping the details of the date under wraps, which intrigued you even more.

As you prepared for the evening, you chose an outfit that was comfortable yet charming, avoiding black as instructed. The time leading up to Spencer’s arrival seemed to crawl by, each minute stretching longer than the last. You found yourself glancing at your reflection, adjusting your hair, and double-checking everything, ensuring you were ready when he arrived.

Finally, the sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Glancing out the window, you saw Spencer stepping out of his car, looking around with a nervous excitement that matched your own. 

As you stepped outside, your nerves fluttered slightly, but your smile was genuine when you saw Spencer waiting by his car. Waving shyly, you greeted him, "Hi, Spencer."

Spencer looked up, his eyes lighting up as he took in your appearance. "Y/N, you look great," he breathed out, his compliment wrapped in a warm smile that seemed to ease some of the tension between you.

"Thanks, I like your cardigan," you replied, noting the soft, well-worn cardigan he wore that somehow made him look even more approachable and endearing.

His smile widened at the compliment, and he seemed to relax a bit more. "Thanks! It's an old favorite," he admitted, holding the car door open for you. 

As you both stepped into the cozy, softly-lit space filled with the gentle sounds of purring and the occasional meow, Spencer immediately began sharing interesting facts about cats. “Did you know that ancient Egyptians considered cats sacred and even had a goddess named Bastet who was depicted as a lioness?” he said, looking into your eyes as you walked past a playful tabby.

Your response was a mix of admiration and amusement. “I didn’t know you were an expert on ancient cultures too,” you teased, feeling comfort and excitement as Spencer chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the opportunity to share his knowledge.

While playing with a particularly friendly cat, Spencer used the opportunity to flirt in his unique way. He gently lifted the cat, holding it out towards you. “It’s interesting how animals can facilitate social interactions, isn’t it? For instance, it's been found that people are more likely to engage in conversations in the presence of animals. They act as social lubricants.”

You laughed, reaching out to pet the cat and feeling a bit flustered by his proximity and the way he looked at you when talking about social dynamics. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you needed a furry wingman for our date?”

Spencer grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Maybe, but it seems to be working, doesn’t it?”

“I don't know, say lubricant again,” you teased. Spencer's grin widened at your playful challenge, and the atmosphere between you sparked with a shared humor that made the moment light and enjoyable. 

He leaned in slightly, adopting a mock-serious tone, "Lubricant," he repeated, emphasizing the word, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You laughed even harder, your eyes bright with amusement. "Hearing you say 'lubricant' is so funny!"

Spencer, caught up in your joy, couldn’t help but laugh along. “Why?” he asked, his own grin wide as your laughter proved infectious.

"It’s just... it can be a dirtier word," you giggled, trying to explain through your laughter. "And I can’t imagine our resident genius using the word lubricant!"

Spencer's laughter joined yours, ringing out genuinely as he caught the playful jab. The lightness of the moment brought a relaxed glow to his features. "I assure you, the application of the word was purely scientific," he teased back, still chuckling. 

The café around you seemed to buzz with the warmth of your shared amusement, creating an intimate bubble amidst the quiet hum of other patrons and the soft padding of cat paws. "I suppose," Spencer continued, his smile lingering, "I should be more careful with my vocabulary around you. You're giving me a whole new perspective on language."

Your laughter gradually subsided into a series of light chuckles, but your eyes were bright with delight. "I think I like this side of you, Spencer," you said, a playful sincerity in your voice. "It’s nice to see you in a different light, not just as the genius profiler but also someone who can joke around about...lubricants."

Spencer's eyes softened, clearly touched by your words. "I'm glad," he said softly, his voice carrying a note of appreciation. "It’s not often I get to show this side, and I’m happy to share it with you." 

As you observed the cats seemingly gravitate towards Spencer, who seemed both amused and delighted by their attention, an idea sparked in your mind. It was the perfect segue into a lighthearted flirtation, mixing your shared love for animals with a touch of mystical charm.

"You know, it’s said that animals, especially cats, have a keen sense of good and bad," you started, watching Spencer's reaction as a particularly fluffy cat chose his lap as its new throne. "They're often drawn to people with good auras. I guess they must sense something pretty great about you."

Spencer looked up, his expression a mix of surprise and pleasure at your comment. He laughed softly, a sound that warmed you to the core. "Is that so? Well, I must be on the right track then. Maybe they sense my excellent choice in company for this evening," he replied smoothly, his gaze locking with yours in a moment charged with a gentle intensity as a cat nuzzled its way into your lap as well.

Your heart fluttered slightly at his words, and you smiled, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Oh, so we’re using cat behavior to gauge our decisions now?" you teased back, leaning in a little closer. "In that case, I think they’re on to something because I’m feeling pretty good about my choice too."

Spencer’s smile widened, and he reached over to gently nudge a playful kitten back onto the table, his actions thoughtful and tender. "I'll take that as a high compliment, coming from someone who clearly knows her way around cats and their mysterious ways," he said, his voice soft but filled with an underlying warmth that suggested he was as affected by the exchange as you were.

As the evening wound down, and the café began to prepare for closing, Spencer drove you home. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and you found yourself sharing little anecdotes from your childhood, while Spencer listened intently, always eager to learn more about you.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of your home. The end of the evening had come too quickly, a sentiment you both silently acknowledged as you lingered at the doorstep, not quite ready to say goodbye.

"Y/N...I had a really nice time today," he said, his voice carrying a warmth that seemed to wrap the evening in a perfect close.

"Me too, Spencer, thank you for asking me. I was kind of shocked," you admitted, your words sincere and open. The evening had unfolded beautifully, but part of you had still been wrestling with the disbelief that it was all really happening.

"Really? Why?" Spencer's curiosity was piqued, his gaze intent on you, wanting to understand more.

You smiled shyly, a nervous habit kicking in as you rubbed behind your ear. "I just... liked you for so long, I never thought you were interested in me too," you confessed, the words tumbling out more easily than you'd expected. The truth had been a quiet companion for so long, and saying it aloud to Spencer felt both freeing and terrifying.

Spencer's expression softened even further, a gentle understanding coloring his features. "Y/N, I’ve been trying to ask you out for two weeks," he confessed. His chuckle was light, trying to ease the tension.

Spencer's revelation brought a mix of relief and amusement. "Really? I had no idea you were trying," you replied, a smile breaking across your face, reflecting both the surprise and joy of the moment.

He nodded, a bit of sheepishness showing through his usual composed demeanor. "Yes, it turns out I'm not as skilled in expressing personal interest as I am with criminal profiles," he admitted, his light laughter mingling with yours.

The air between you felt lighter, a shared understanding dawning that, despite the initial miscommunications, there was a genuine and mutual interest. "Well, I'm glad you kept trying," you said, your tone sincere. "And I'm sorry I didn't pick up on it sooner. I guess I was just scared to get my hopes up."

Spencer reached across the small space between you, his hand hesitating just a moment before gently taking yours. "No more missed signals, okay? Let's promise to be more straightforward with each other," he suggested, his gaze steady and reassuring.

You nodded, squeezing his hand in agreement, feeling a warmth spread through you at the contact. "It's a deal," you responded, your heart feeling both settled and exhilarated by the new promise laid between you.

“So... in honor of being straightforward…” Spencer began, his voice soft but steady, a shy smile playing on his lips. He stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours, a quiet vulnerability in his gaze. Gently, he took both of your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart raced, the moment feeling both tender and surreal. The way he held your hands, the genuine care in his voice—it was everything you'd hoped for, wrapped in Spencer’s uniquely thoughtful way. You felt yourself nod before you even spoke, your breath catching slightly. “Yes,” you whispered, smiling softly, your eyes never leaving his.

Spencer’s smile deepened with relief and excitement. Slowly, he leaned in, his movements deliberate and gentle, giving you every moment to close the gap as well. When your lips finally met, it was soft, sweet, and full of the promise that had been building between you for so long. The world seemed to pause, leaving just the two of you in that quiet, intimate moment, finally aligned in your shared feelings.

When you pulled back, there was a brief silence before you both laughed lightly, the tension melting away completely. "That was… nice," Spencer said, his voice low, his smile radiating warmth. 

"Yeah, it really was," you agreed, still feeling the butterflies in your chest as you held onto his hands just a little tighter. 

“Oh, and for the record,” Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he took in your reaction, “I don’t like Elle—romantically, of course. She’s my best friend.”

Your face flushed with sudden embarrassment, realizing he'd caught on to your earlier assumptions. “Oh, I—well, uh...” you stammered, struggling to find the right words.

Spencer's smile remained soft and reassuring. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he said warmly, squeezing your hands gently. “Elle is super gay, not sure how you missed that, and... I really like you.”

His words, so genuine and direct, melted away the last bit of tension you’d been holding onto. You laughed lightly, the awkwardness dissolving into relief. “Well, that’s good to know,” you said with a grin, finally allowing yourself to fully relax into the moment.

Spencer's grin mirrored yours as he added, “I just wanted to clear that up. No more misunderstandings.” His gaze softened as he looked at you, the weight of unspoken feelings now out in the open. 

“No more misunderstandings,” you agreed, feeling the warmth of his words and the certainty that everything between you was finally where it should be.

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

tag list <333 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic

[wosohours]

commitment - leah williamson x reader

You always heard about “don’t date athletes” and “athletes are players," but of course when good advice comes your way, you ignore it.

It was a bit insane to think that you could start talking to the one girl who could not be bothered with being in a committed relationship. That gut feeling telling you “Don’t get too close”, “Don’t entertain her”, or “Don’t fall in too deep” but you once again ignored it.

Honestly, you could not help it. It was like a craving to be around Leah all the time. It almost felt like an obsession of wondering, “What is she doing?”, “Where is she?”, “Is she thinking about me?”

Constantly checking your phone to see if she messaged you. Looking at her social media every hour on the hour. You were in deep and you knew it would eventually lead to hurting yourself. Yet, being someone with the typical heart-eye delusions, the thoughts in the back of your mind kept saying, “She will change for you.”

Trying to distance yourself never worked because every time you were at a safe enough distance she kept pulling you right back in. Leah knew that she had some type of hold on you and constantly used that to her advantage.

Just last week she was barely texting and calling you back. You understood that she was not obligated to do so since you two were not officially together, but you were most definitely a little…maybe even a lot more than “just friends.” The dates, the romantic gestures, and the PDA all confirmed that but you could never understand her constant pushing and pulling.

Leah knows exactly how to make it up to you though. She texted three days ago saying how sorry she was not keeping in contact, how she misses you like crazy and how she planned a whole day for just the two of you. You were strong this time, wanting her to feel how she makes you feel by not texting back and declining her calls those three days. Yet one slip of weakness and here you are right back in her bed.

____________________

“I missed you so much you have no ideas.” Leah tells you as she feathers kisses all over your face as you both lay in bed naked.

“Oh really? I would not have guessed.” you said as you sat up from her chest and moved away from her a little. She froze looking at you with that cute frown that is usually stuck on her face and said, “Baby I told you I am truly sorry, I really mean it. I have just been a bit busier since the launch of my third book. You know this.”

Leah wraps an arm around your waist pulling you back down closer to her. “I am here now though, aren’t I?” You hesitantly relax into her and say, “I know but a simple text or any sort of reply would have been nice. I just missed you.” You can feel Leah smiling against your hairline after she lays a soft kiss there. “I missed you too babe.”

After a moment of you two just enjoying each other's company she says quietly, “How about we get up, you come shower with me, and then we can go out and get some breakfast?”

____________________

Once again the cycle repeats itself with Leah distancing herself. No longer answering calls or texts. Although it hurt, you thought it would be best to leave things the way they were to protect your peace, even pushing yourself to be petty enough to block her number. It was almost like you were putting her up to the test to see how far she would go to get your attention.

Although she did swipe up on one of your Instagram stories of you in a tight shirt with no bra saying, “I’ve seen it, now delete it,” but you ignored that as well.

____________________

Since being friends with Leah for many years you have grown closer with some of the Arsenal girls and with them loving your company, a couple of them have asked you to join them in celebrating the end of their USA tour at a local pub. People are either mingling by the bar, doing karaoke, or sitting around the reserved private table in the back.

Currently, you are at the bar getting a drink and you can feel Leah’s eyes burning into the back of your skull.

“What’s going on with you two? You have been more grumpy than usual,” Katie teases Leah as she sits in the empty seat next to her. “She's ignoring me,” Leah sighs, still looking at you.

“What have you done this time?” Alessia asks from across the table. “I’ve been kind of avoiding her again. I don’t mean to but I don’t know what I’m doing.” Leah replies.

“Have you tried talking to her about how you feel? Do you actually want to have a serious relationship with her?” Katie asks.

“No, I haven't talked to her. Every time I try to talk about us my mouth goes dry and all of a sudden I can’t think, and of course, I want something serious with her I’m just nervous,” Leah shakes her head and looks down at her fidgeting fingers.

Lia, who has been listening to the conversation from her seat next to Alessia, speaks up, “Well you might need to tell her soon because the bartender is flirting with her heavily.”

This causes Leah’s head to shoot up in your direction and sees the bartender smiling at you and reaching her hand over to rest on your forearm. “Yeah, not happening.” Leah quickly stands up from her seat and pushes past people to make her way over to you.

When she gets to you she gently wraps an arm around your waist not to startle you and pulls you back into her chest. She gives her glare that she usually saves for the pitch to the bartender, making her quickly release your arm and turn her attention to another customer waiting at the other end of the bar.

Leah smiles when you relax into her and she whispers in your ear, “You’ve been avoiding me.” You slowly turn around until you are face to face with her and say. “Hurts doesn’t it?”

“I deserve that. Why don’t we go have a chat and I will explain myself?” Leah says, moving her hand to grab yours. “Really? You want to talk now and here?” you scoff.

Leah just nods and gently pulls your hand so that you follow her out to the back patio of the pub. She sits on a bench that is a little bit away from the loud building and pulls your hand down to sit next to her.

“You know you shouldn’t just flirt with anyone, she could've just been charming you into being her next one nightstand,” she says.

“Hmm, pot meets kettle huh? You would know,” you scoff pulling your hand away from hers.

“No, I wouldn’t, because we are more than that,” she firmly replies.

“It sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

“I know,” she sighs, focusing on her shoes, “but I can explain.”

You look at her and slightly nod your head giving her the indication to keep talking.

“I love everything about us. I love how we are with each other. How easy it is to be around you and the connection that we have. I’m just scared of the reality of us being together because it seems too good to be true,” she confesses. “Don’t get me wrong I do want to be with you and I am serious about you but there is this nagging feeling in my head that I am going to screw it all up.”

You grab her hands gently and say, “That’s completely understandable Leah, I wish you would have communicated with me about how you felt earlier. However, you can’t make future assumptions about something you or we haven’t even tried yet. Neither of us has any idea of what could happen but it doesn’t mean push away and hide from it.”

You continue, “You are looking too far into the future when you should be focusing on right now. That self-sabotaging brain of yours is going to stall you for great things one day.” you giggle pushing her head away making her laugh too.

After the giggles die down she says, “You are completely right. If you allow me to give this…us another try I am willing to put my all into it. I just ask that you give me that reassurance.”

“I can give you that, but you have to promise to communicate with me.” you nod raising your hand to move a piece of hair out of her face.

“I promise to communicate my feelings to you,” she replies leaning into your hand.

You smile and stand up from the bench pulling her up with you to give her a hug resting your head against hers. Leah pulls back a bit to give you a few quick pecks on the lips causing you to giggle and move away.

“My girl,” she whispers, pulling you back against her and laying one last kiss on the side of your head.

____________________

Since that day Leah has kept her promise of communicating more and you have kept yours by reassuring her when she needed it. She even asked you to officially be with her a couple weeks later and it had felt as though something shifted in the air.

She was constantly texting, calling, and wanting to be attached to your hip. When you too were with each other in person she would constantly cling to you but you were okay with it since that is what you were wanting from the beginning.

[mac-tirs]

the not-insignificant differences between the omen twins

so, i saw this picture posted by @amanaci which inspired me to write this rather lengthy piece on the contrasts between morgott and mohg. i decided that, instead of dumping this whole think-piece on their post, i'd make my own separate post and ramble here.

this difference in their height really tracks for how their fighting styles and personalities are like, i feel. i always found it peculiar how different they are despite being twins; i feel like there's a rather stark resemblance between miquella and malenia in their soft-faced features, pale skin, and long flowing hair, and a close resemblance between the carian siblings with their red hair, but morgott and mohg are rather different from each other, only bearing similarities due to their omen nature. i looked a little bit into that and found that there's pretty good reasons behind why.

firstly, morgott is severely malnourished and unhealthy in comparison to mohg. you can see it in his body and how his skin sags, how his ribs and bones show, and how dry it looks. below is a comparison between his hands and mohg's hands.

morgott's hands are dry, almost rubbed red and raw around the knuckles and fingers. it reminds me a little of psoriasis, or some kind of skin discolouration caused by his poor health. it's likely he isn't eating well, or at the very least, he isn't eating as well as mohg. his twin, on the other hand (ha!), has shiny, veiny skin with a healthy colour and gleam to them. it's like he wants to call to attention how well moisturised he is (which, in this case, compared to morgott, he is).

above is a comparison between the twins' horns. the difference is extremely evident to me; morgott's horns are dry, almost seeming brittle, like sun-dried bone that hasn't seen rain or moisture in years. it reminds me of the horns of a very neglected ram, almost, but despite that, the horn growths seem more controlled, less like the wild growths all over the royal omens of the shunning grounds and more controlled as a sort of jutting crown from mainly one side of his head. meanwhile, mohg's horns are shiny, curling wildly to the point of injury, taking his eye in its path of growth. they grew wildly enough to replace his hair altogether, if he ever had any, and give him an even more imposing silhouette with a literal crown of horns (and a beard to boot). beyond this, his horns look healthy, with clearly defined rings to each growth that shine under the light, much like the rest of him. he's oiled leather to morgott's dry hide.

another somewhat interesting detail of morgott is his tail. i know a lot of people see it as soft, and it certainly looks the part, but what i find interesting are two things: the first being that his fur looks quite matted in some lightings and angles but overall looks soft to the touch, and the second being that his tail's horns look much healthier than his own horns on his head. this is in clear contrast to the rest of his body, which looks dry and unassuming with smatterings of coarse white hair up and down his body, and i believe its a matter of the limits to his own self-care. he utilises his tail as another weapon in his arsenal, so he cares for it that it might serve him well in battle, unlike his head of horns, which only serve as a detriment to him with how they must obscure some of his vision, if not most of it. additionally, he likely could bear to look at his tail and care for it, but for an omen that hates his nature more than the average, he probably doesn't enjoy looking at his own face in the mirror enough to properly care for himself.

which brings me back to the sheer differences between these two. morgott, unhealthy and self-loathing, neglects many visual aspects of himself likely because he sees vanity as a luxury not afforded to someone like him. mohg, healthy and self-obsessed, cares and grooms himself to appear very much so like the lord he claims to be, loving himself to a heretical extreme (in the eyes of the golden order). their statures reflect this too; morgott hunches low to the ground, ready to pounce at any given moment but also due to his own shame and humility, while mohg stands tall and proud, though not as tall as he could possibly be due to his upbringing being one of likely having to hunch low to fit beneath the ceilings of the smaller parts of the shunning grounds.

above is a picture of an omen from stormveil, which bears resemblance to all the omen you see in the game. in terms of clothing, one of the big ways people set the omen twins apart, morgott is completely naked save for the ragged cloak of animal hides he wears, signifying he is not fit to even dress himself in a shirt or trousers as befits a king, much like the omen pictured. he wears even less than that, actually, since he lacks even the slightest adornment save for the rope that clasps his cloak together. on the other hand, mohg is entirely adorned in finery, wearing a beautifully embroidered, fashionable priest's robe with matching vestments, and beneath that (as seen in the first image) some underclothes, a plain black button up and some pants. mohg's entire silhouette changes with the removal of his robe, while morgott's barely makes an impact once you realise he has only taken off the one article of clothing he had.

then, of course, there are their fighting styles. there's this fantastic video on youtube that i recommend watching of the twins fighting every major boss in the game, and you can clearly tell them apart from their fighting styles alone. morgott is fast, his size making him look deceptively slow only for him to dart out and do sick flips and somersaults and pirouettes that rival even the most flexible dancers, and he fights with speed and almost animalistic ferocity, save for when he conjures his weapon incantations. mohg is slow but strong, capable of swinging that large trident around like it weighs nothing while hitting with the force to knock down most enemies in a few hits, and most tarnished in just one, but he fights with a steady gracefulness in his every move, walking slowly and carefully while casting spells that hurt a lot.

even their phase 2 transitions are markedly different, with morgott's being one where he drops to his knees, vomits, and releases his cursed blood(?) all over the battlefield, causing his weapon to become alight with his curse and for him to fight with more in-your-face aggression, and with mohg's being one where he simply ignores your attacks and begins stabbing his spear into the formless mother for power at your expense, gaining a majestic set of wings that put distance between you and him so he can cast more of his spells at safer distances. where morgott is pushed to his limit and forced to confront his nature, mohg has long since embraced it and enjoys the fruits of his bloody labour with the mother of truth's blessing.

speaking of the mother of truth, even their patron orders are at odds with each other. the golden order was built upon the foundation of a very carefully-guarded lie: that marika is the one true god, which she can't be, with the existence of radagon (as per goldmask, perhaps the number 1 fundamentalist we meet in game). the formless mother is known also as the mother of truth, existing in direct opposition of the golden order's lies and craving the honesty of one of the purest expressions of life: blood. these two ideals would war against each other, with one being dedicated to the upholding of a beautiful, corrupt lie and the other being dedicated to the instillation of a dynasty of raw, pure truths. as such, even morgott and mohg's own great runes reflect these contrasts in faith, though, remarkably, these two great runes are ones that fit perfectly over each other, with mohg's slightly elevated (seen below, taken from the fextralife wiki).

so, where does this leave us? i don't know, exactly. i wasn't really writing this with any sort of ultimate conclusion. i just found it really interesting how different they were, and i wanted to talk about all the noticeable, significant differences between them here. thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Phone 📱

Leah Williamson x Reader

warning :

summary :

During training, while watching a match, fans notice Leah frequently checking her phone and smiling, a rare distraction for the usually focused player. Speculation can't help but grow.

It was a chilly evening at the training grounds, and the Arsenal team was hard at work. The drills were intense, with coaches shouting instructions and players moving in perfect sync. Leah, known for her focus and leadership on the pitch, was no exception, giving her all as always. But today, something was different. During short breaks or while waiting for her turn in a drill, Leah would sneak glances at her phone, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips each time she read a message.

A few of her teammates noticed, nudging each other with amused expressions. “What’s got her so distracted?” one of them whispered, stealing a glance at Leah, who was now quickly typing back a response, her eyes sparkling in a way that was rare to see during training. It wasn’t like Leah to be distracted, especially during practice, where she was known to lead by example. But today, she didn’t seem to mind taking those tiny breaks to check her phone.

The coaches raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. They trusted Leah; if something was pulling her attention away, it had to be important. After the training session ended, the players gathered their things, and one of Leah’s friends decided to tease her. “Alright, Leah, spill. Who’s got you grinning like that during training?”

Leah tried to play it cool, shrugging nonchalantly, but the blush on her cheeks gave her away. “Just checking in on something,” she said with a small, knowing smile. She didn’t offer more, but anyone who knew her could see that this “something" was clearly making her day a little brighter.

A few weeks later, Leah had the chance to watch a game from the stands, and she was excited to cheer on her friends. But throughout the match, fans nearby noticed something strange. Every few minutes, Leah would pull out her phone, quickly typing out a message before her attention returned to the game. She was still cheering, still fully engaged, but it was clear her focus was divided.

Social media was quick to pick up on it. Fans began to speculate, tweeting about how Leah, who was known for her love of the game, was clearly texting someone important enough to split her attention. Some joked that it must be football-related, while others wondered if it was a special someone. Between the cheers, the occasional glances at her screen, and the soft smile that followed each reply, it wasn’t hard to guess that she was thinking about someone specific.

As the match wrapped up, Leah headed down to the sidelines, where some fans were gathering for autographs. Someone playfully shouted, “Leah, who were you texting so much?” She laughed, shaking her head, not offering an answer but not denying the question either.

(I don't like it that much :/ )

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: woozi

grumpy x sunshine trope

'how can a heart like yours even love a heart like mine?'

'will it kill you to smile a little?'

jihoon's eyebrow twitches but that's all reaction he gives. whenever people try to get a rise out of him, the most they receive is an annoyed huff or dramatic eye roll, so eyebrow twitch is something new; i'm widening my arsenal, jihoon thinks, watching his classmates walk away. he almost opens his mouth to retort something sarcastic and beat his personal record, when he hears it. the only sound that instantly soothes his anger and makes him melt into a puddle as jeonghan says - sound of your laughter.

it rings in his ears as the most perfect melody and jihoon can get so easily embarrassed about many things, but his utter devotion and love towards you is not one of them. corners of his lips stretch to the sides on their own, his body moves like he's not the one possessing it - one second and he's already up, moving to the door, wanting to see you. with each step he takes, the louder your laughter gets and he wants to see it, wants to witness the most beautiful picture you paint with your head thrown back, eyes shut and hands somewhere in the air, gestucilating wildly. one step, two - he reaches hallway just in time to see you wiping away tears from your eyes, still smiling brightly. happiness surrounds you like a halo, its glow soft and bright at the same time, calling for jihoon to come closer.

'i can't believe it! and what did she- oh, jihoon! hi!'

it shouldn't be possible, but your smile grows even wider at the sight of him and his heart does this really not funny thing in his chest when it stops and does stupid somersault of some sort. it's all a bit hard to believe if he's being honest; the way you immediately focus your attention on him, how you choose him over other people, him. jihoon is not a fan of putting himself down, but he knows himself very well, is very aware of where he stands on social staircase especially in comparison to other cool kids. he knows he's grumpy, knows that many find him antisocial or unfriendly, knows he's not someone who can hold attention of others very well, he knows. those are all facts, plain truths along with him being closed off, shy, painfully ordinary. that's why it's hard to believe that someone like you - a sunshine in human form - prefers his company the most.

'where have you been?' you ask him and then jokingly push at his shoulder. 'i was looking everywhere for you.'

you should know. you should know what these words do to him because how can you not? jihoon thinks he's bad at hiding his feelings, is pretty sure that hearts in his eyes when he looks at you are too big for anyone not to notice. 'i didn't want to go, so i was waiting here.'

you frown and your frown only deepens, when passing by guy shouts: 'he's a party pooper, what did you expect?'. it doesn't really hurt jihoon, weirdly enough. he understands general confusion of others regarding him and you. how can such a sunshine be with such a grumpy guy? what do they have in common?

'ignore,' jihoon says, knowing that you're about to snap back. your attention is a gift and he wants it on himself, not on some irrelevant guys. 'how did everything go? you're happy?'

you smile, nodding. 'it was so nice, i have so much to tell you!'

'that's great,' jihoon gently takes your bag away from your hands and with even more gentleness takes your hand in his. 'tell me all about it during lunch? my treat.'

your smile softens and you get this bashful look on your face that he adores. 'it's always your treat.'

'mhm,' jihoon hums noncommittally. 'and it's always going to be. let's go?'

your hand grips his a bit tighter and jihoon sighs in satisfaction, when you sway closer to him so your shoulders are brushing. 'let's go!'

this is what matters in the end - your hand in his, your smile directed to him, your quiet 'i missed you' whispered somewhere between his neck and shoulder. not what others say or think, but your sparkling eyes and loud 'you're the best, jihoonie'. jihoon doesn't mind being grumpy if he has sunshine like you by his side.

a/n: offf, this is kinda rough, isn't it? coming back from hiatus is hard, people, but hopefully this is not very disappointing. anyways, i'm starting new series, hoping for support from you :') - nini

all my other works can be found here

[inuyashaluver]

airport havoc with reader and leah’s 3 kids😩

mumma williamson - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which you and your wife handle your children at an airport, a roller coaster for everyone involved

warnings: leah never did her acl, looonnngg, really don’t know how to feel about this one

a/n: thank you for the request lovely, this was super fun ❤️ also - i unintentionally wrote this at the airport lmao

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your wife, leah have been together for just over 10 years, it seems unbelievable but you and leah have been basically in love with each other all your lives, taking years of mutual pining and a gentle push of your teammates.

you’d met leah in the arsenal youth teams, becoming quick best friends through both of your competitive natures. “i’m gonna win” little leah says with a toothy grin, giving you a light shove. “not if i win first!” you say cheekily. and that describes your entire relationship, competitive, genuine, loving and comforting.

when you finally started dating at 16, you grew closer and closer over the years, both physically and emotionally. you two just got each other, everyone around you telling you that you were soulmates and you couldn’t help but agree.

—

if there was one thing to know about your wife, it was that she is incredibly convincing. this girl could have you doing anything she wanted and you would because you love her so much. she was exactly the same, if you wanted something, she would make it happen, no if’s, and’s, or but’s.

so when you both hit 22, leah took you to her house for christmas, where she brought her cousin’s baby over with a pleading expression. “baby, look” she pouts, cradling the baby’s head to her chin as she gently bounced up and down. you couldn’t help but grin longingly.

you had to admit, everytime leah held a baby, your ovaries would explode, you knew she’d be an amazing mother and you were willing to give her that.

so, you put your career on hold to have your first child, amanda, named after her mother but called mandy for short. you and leah were ecstatic to have a little girl, both of you crying when you were told the gender.

after you had baby mandy, you’d taken months off before making your return, working extremely hard and honestly playing better than you ever have. leah was incredibly proud of you, telling you everyday. you were both so content with your little family, until it flipped completely.

during a game, you’d manage to get a goal which saved the match for arsenal vs chelsea at the emirates.

when it happened, leah bolted over to you, hoisting you up in a tight embrace. “look at you, mummy williamson” she winks, giving your cheek an affectionate kiss as you tried to push her off out of embarrassment.

“stop it, mumma williamson” throwing her a half assed wink, she laughs and bumps her hip with yours, running back to her position for the last two minutes of the match. by the time you’d done your lap of signatures and photos, you and leah make way to the family and friends section, taking baby mandy from leah’s mum and taking her around the field.

she was a year old at this point, your teammates immediately running over to her and giving her all their love.

you held mandy on your hip, she’d fallen asleep. you lightly chat with some of the girls while rocking your baby gently as she sleeps against your shoulder.

leah stood behind you and took in the scene, her wife and her daughter, ‘williamson’ shining brightly on their backs. she walks up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist, gently kissing your neck and smirking when your breath hitches.

“lee” you breathe out, she tightens her grip, “hm?” she places a kiss just below your ear and you lean into her. you let out a shaky sigh when she continues to press soft kisses against the right sight of your neck. “what? i can’t kiss my beautiful wife?” she says smugly, spinning you around gently so she could face you.

“i know what you’re doing” you sing out, leah looks at you with fake confusion. “what? nah, baby, i’m not doing anything” she moves her hand to lightly tug at the bottom of your jersey and you squint your eyes at her. her finger dips under your shirt to lightly graze the skin of your waist and you grab her hand before she continues. you were both literally standing in the middle of the pitch.

—

when leah saw how much of an amazing mother you were, her heart exploded. she’d known you’d be an amazing one but the fact that you carried her child and gave her the privilege of becoming a mother herself, how could she not want another?

that night, when you arrive home, leah pushes you on the couch as she carried a sleeping baby mandy in her arms. “hey!” you whisper shout and she just grins at you, winking to wordlessly tell you to wait there for her. once she put the baby in her bed, she comes out with the baby monitor in hand, placing it on the coffee table before making you lie flat on the couch so she could lie on top of you.

“hi, mumma” she says cheekily, leaning down to place a sweet kiss on your lips as she hovered over you. “hello” you mumble against her lips in between her kisses. she pulls away and looks at you suggestively, “you know, i’ve been thinking..” she starts, “oh, that’s not good” you grin, she rolls her eyes amusingly as she pinches your hip. “shut up, anyway, you know, you’re such an amazing mum, baby” she says adoringly, her eyes glistening as she speaks.

you place a gentle hand on her cheek, “you’re an amazing mum too, lovey” you grin softly, she leans forward to kiss your lips. it’s starts off slow and calculated, until she feels your hand dip under her shirt and graze your nails on her skin and a switch flips.

a needy make out session progressing quickly, she pulls away from you breathlessly and looks down at you with blown out pupils. “i want to run an idea past you if you’re comfortable” she breathes out, getting off you to sit up and tapping her lap for you to join her which you happily do.

you knew where she was going and you were in the same mindset. you wanted another baby. she nervously plays with the hem of your shirt, unable to look into your eyes because she was so nervous. you smile, placing a hand under her chin and directi her eyes to yours. “you want another baby” you say simply, affection laced in your words.

leah looked at you with wide eyes and an unmistakable grin. “only if you want to” she replies, grabbing your hands and squeezing them gently. you nod and smile, leaning forward to peck her lips, then her cheeks, her forehead and her nose. she looks up at you, completely love sick. you lean forward to whisper in her ear, “put another baby in me, williamson” and that’s all it took for her to lift you up and run to the bedroom. sure, leah couldn’t put a baby in you like this, but the both of you weren’t complaining.

so that’s how baby cathrine, cat for short, came along. you begged leah to name the girl after her middle name because you found it so cute and she begrudgingly agreed, willing to let you name the baby anything you wanted as you were carrying her child. at this point, mandy was two and a half while baby catherine was just a year old.

—

one day after training, you’d gone to the shops to quickly get some groceries and came back to leah sprawled out on the floor with your two daughters, their little heads propped up on your wife’s arms, completely engrossed on the screen. walking closer to the sweet scene in front of you, you realise leah had put on a video of your highlights

“mummy’s so cool isn’t she?” leah says proudly, mandy nodding and watching intently, cat reaching her arm out in a grabbing motion when there was a close up of you after your chelsea goal which prompted her birth but you would never tell her that.

“mumma’s cooler i think” you say suddenly and all three of them jolt, snapping their heads towards you. leah looked at you with so much love in her eyes, you nearly collapsed. the entire rest of the night, you couldn’t keep your hands off leah and she just knew what you wanted because she wanted the same thing.

when the two girls were tucked in by you and leah, after they were sound asleep, you drag leah to the couch, pushing her onto it and immediately straddling her. “oh, hello” she giggles, placing her hands on your thighs. “i need to ask you something” you say nervously, feeling so vulnerable in this moment for no reason.

“you want another baby, don’t you?” leah says simply, a deja vu moment for both of you.

you instantly nod, “only if you want to” you whisper and she kisses you sweetly. “i’d have 50 babies with you if i could but i care about this and you” she pokes your stomach cheekily and you giggle with her at her response. and so, baby olivia was born, liv for short.

you’d taken some time off football to be a mum, spending your time with your kids until they were old enough to go to preschool/school. you’d made your comeback during the euros, a euphoric experience being in your national team that your wife captained while your three kids sat with your families watching.

—

and now in present time, it was the 2023 world cup. your wife was named captain and both of you get called up. it was a no brainer that you would bring your kids along for the world cup, mandy was now 4, cat was 3 and liv was 1. you’d been to the airport with your kids before but not like this, you were flying internationally, with your teammates, for over 16 hours.

you had expressed to leah how nervous you were about it but she constantly reassured you that everything would be fine. crazily enough, your children were extremely well behaved, the girls absolutely loved having them around. many of them teased you that all three of them were just complete carbon copies of you and leah mixed together.

—

and so, you, leah and your three daughters arrived at the airport with excited grins, you and leah were in your training kits while your daughters all wore their ‘williamson’ jerseys. you held liv along with dragging two suitcases in your other hand while leah held mandy’s hand, mandy holding cat’s, leah held all your documents in her other hand while you all walked through the airport. thankfully, england had gotten a private plane for your arrivals, as there was so many of you coming along for the trip.

you’d done all the check ins, dropped off your luggage and that left the five of you to chill and wait until boarding. your kids throughout check in and security were perfect little angels, you and leah constantly giving each other surprised and proud grins. you were so impressed by your kids behaviour until they saw their aunties at the airport, all of them switching completely.

each and every teammate of yours was always an auntie, so when your kids are surrounded with almost all of them, they go insane. as soon as mandy sees her favourite auntie, georgia, she sprints away from the both of you and jumps into her awaiting arms.

“my little mandy!” georgia exclaims, hugging the girl tightly, she laughs gleefully when georgia litters kisses on her cheeks. “careful, amanda” leah scolds when the small girl ripped her hand from her own. georgia waves leah off and leah can’t help but send her a half-hearted scowl.

cat however also had a favourite auntie, the small girl sprinting over to auntie lucy through the influence of her big sister. “lu-lu” cat squeals, her little feet bounding over to the brunette.

lucy gives the small girl a bright grin and an affectionate kiss to the cheek before gently throwing her in the air and catching her, spinning the girl around as they both giggle with each other.

“oh my god” leah breathes out terrified, scared lucy would drop her. you wrap your arm around her bicep, she looks down at you with uneasy eyes but washes away at your comforting grin.

“hello, kitty cat!” lucy coos, taking her to watch the big window where the planes were taking off and landing.

you tug her over towards some open seats, sitting down and looking up at her with a bright smile. “come on, captain” you tap the seat next to you encouragingly. liv snuggles into you further, her hand gripping your jacket tightly as she buries her face into your neck.

leah looks at you with a little pout, she felt a little betrayed that none of her girls wanted to stay with her, instead running off around the section in the airport where the lionesses were situated.

well, liv did stay, but the girl was passed out against your shoulder, cuddling into you completely. “all our baby girls are gone, we’re empty nesters” she huffs, you just shake your head at her gently.

leah lets out a defeated sigh but smiles at you and liv, taking out her phone and snapping a quick picture before sitting next to you, placing a warm hand on your thigh while your head rests on her shoulder.

“oh, leah baby,” you coo amusingly, “we’re not empty nesters, my love, they’re just excited” you hold onto the arm that was holding your thigh.

“they don’t want us anymore” she pouts, you take your head off her shoulder and pull her down to kiss you softly, she can’t help but smile into it while you run your nails over her arm.

“they do, baby, don’t look into it too much” you part from her with a kiss to her cheek. you look into her eyes to reassure her and it seems to do the trick, she nods and smiles at you, quickly kissing your lips appreciatively. “yeah, you're right, darling” she breathes out and trails her eyes over your face.

“it’s alright, lee, i’ll just annoy you” you say cheekily and she kisses the top of your head, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “you never annoy me, my girl” she smiles, resting her head on top of yours as she watches her daughters interact with your teammates.

contempt, she closes her eyes for just a second until she feels a little body clawing itself into her lap, opening her eyes to see mandy looking at her with wide and excited eyes. “hi, mumma” she grins happily and leah smiles at her affectionately, “hi, baby girl, you having fun?” leah questions, mandy nods her head instantly. mandy was in a stage where she asks questions every two seconds, leah was in for a ride.

you sit beside them and watch the interaction while liv was still passed out on your shoulder.

“why are we here?” mandy cocks her head to the side and leah couldn’t help but grin, “mummy and I are playing football” leah remarks, the small girl grabs her hand and begins to play with her fingers. “but, mummy said you can’t play football at the airport” she cocks her head to the side and stared up at leah confused.

leah lets out a little laugh, moving her hand up to pinch her cheek gently. “mummy’s right, darling, but i meant we’re playing football in another place” leah speaks full of affection, mandy nods and turns her head to smile at you,

“hi, mummy” mandy offers you a toothy grin and you send her one right back, “hi, princess” you lift your hand up to give her a gentle pinch on her cheek. mandy suddenly snaps her head towards leah again and leah’s eyes slightly widen, “where are we going?” the girl queries, “australia” leah replies with another soft smile.

“that’s where auntie caity and steffy are from!” mandy remarks with a bright grin, leah nods along with her, “that’s right, smart girl!” she praises, placing her hand on her head and lightly ruffling her hair.

mandy hates that, offering leah the signature williamson glare and leah just laughs loudly, looking at you with an amused grin, you laugh along with them. suddenly, little cat runs over with a bright grin, climbing on top of the seat and sitting on one of leah’s legs and one of your legs. “hello, catty” you say brightly, the girl smiles at you, “mummy! i saw the plane!” she says completely astonished, you and leah both offer her shocked expressions, “did you really?” the small girl nods enthusiastically and you and leah have expressions full of love evident on your faces, a couple of your teammates watching your family interact with one another with elated grins.

liv who was asleep until now slowly begins to stir, taking her face out of your neck and looking completely disheveled. you and leah let out a little giggle at your daughter’s appearance, she offers you a tired smile before blinking slowly and taking in her surroundings.

“hello, baby” leah coos, liv smiles gently and rests her head on your chin, leah pouts at the sight, her heart soaring out of her chest. “she’s so cute” leah boasts, you nod your head in agreement and hug the little girl closer to your chest.

“what about us?” cat exclaims and you both look over to see two unimpressed glares staring at the both of you, the two of you immediately fuss over them. “look at our cute and pretty girls, huh, mummy, aren’t they the best?” leah asserted, nodding over in your direction where you nodded instantly.

“oh definitely, mumma, prettiest and cutest girls alive” you affirm, both you and leah nodding enthusiastically and it seemed to work on your daughters, both of them sporting shy grins. liv still tight in your embrace cuddles into you further, babbling random words as she stares at her sisters.

you were growing slightly uncomfortable, the small girl had been sitting in your arms for so long, they were growing tired. you try to stretch and leah notices your discomfort, moving immediately to grab the small girl, holding her in her arms and you let out a sigh of relief, smiling at leah appreciatively.

liv was happy to move as well, giving leah a sweet kiss on the cheek which had tears brimming in your eyes. you can’t help but look at them full of love, leah instantly growing shy under your gaze. “stop it” she mumbles and grows pink at the sound of your affectionate giggle.

leah has always slightly freaked out when she sees you looking at her completely love sick, often feeling like it was a dream that her dream girl was looking at her full of love.

the two girls on your’s and leah’s laps brighten at your now vacant body, both of them trying to get over to you as quick as they could. you had each girl on a thigh each, letting out a little laugh at leah’s frustrated face, she wanted you to rest a little before the flight and she just knew you wouldn’t be getting that till much later. “girls, no, let’s leave mummy to rest, please” leah commented, trying to coax your daughters to get off you but they wouldn’t budge.

“no!” cat exclaims, grabbing your arm tightly and shaking her head at leah, mandy does the same thing, grabbing your other arm and holding it as tight as she could, they were just like their mother, stubborn, you thought. “yes, come on, let mummy relax, she’s very tired” leah says sternly, patting the chair next to her for them to sit in.

you open your mouth to assure leah it was okay but before you could, you hear a whimper from your lap, looking down to see cat’s eyes swelling with tears. both your and leah’s eyes widen, at seeing her sister cry, mandy begins to cry. “mummy, i’m sorry” cat wails, cuddling into you and you instantly hug the girl back, mandy follows in suit and holds onto you tightly.

“why are you sorry, lovey?” you coo, running your hands over both of their backs in comforting circles. “we are making you tired” mandy cries, nuzzling her head into your chest. you look at leah beside you with wide eyes, faced with your wife and your youngest looking at you with shocked and confused expressions. “baby, i-” leah tries to respond but she’s just so shocked, she didn’t think her words would spur a reaction like that.

“no no, my girls, it’s okay, you’re not making mummy tired” you reassure but the two girls continue to cry, leah dips her head to make eye contact with the two of them but they refuse to look at her. leah pouts at you, she made her babies cry. you move back from the two of them and they face you with matching, tearful expressions, their pouts going unmissed. “aw, girls don’t cry, it’s okay” you smile softly, wiping both of their tears away with the pads of your thumbs.

“babies” leah calls out, all three of you look up and leah mutters up all her strength to bite back a smile. “did mumma make you sad?” leah questions, placing liv on one of her thighs and holding her hands out to them, mandy grabs one and shuffles closer to leah. the two of them nod, pouting up at their mum. “oh, my loves, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to make you sad, i just want mummy to feel good for the flight” leah says earnestly, placing a small kiss on mandy’s head and holding cat’s little hand in the other.

“it’s okay, mumma” cat says, lifting leah’s hand up and placing a little kiss on the back of it, you and leah wear identical grins. mandy nods at her sister’s words, wrapping her arms around leah’s neck and hugging her tightly. leah looks at you with the biggest smile, you giggle at the little interaction. cat moves to hug you, holding onto you tightly and pressing her cheek up against your own, smiling at leah. leah could’ve crumbled at the sight before her, knowing you felt the same with her.

after the moment of solidarity with one another, you hear a bright laugh coming from leah’s right thigh, looking over and seeing liv with a bright smile at seeing you all hug. leah brings her over to the middle of you and you all have a little group hug, hearing multiple ‘aw so cute’’s coming from your teammates.

when you pull away from the hug, mandy immediately bombards you with questions, making both you and leah laugh. the team had gotten called to board the plane and the girls all perk up, excited to embark on the journey to australia. leah takes over with liv, the girl extremely cuddly and wanting to go back to sleep, seeming as though the arms of her mums lulls her into dreamland.

on the other hand, you’re being dragged by two sets of hands, mandy and cat’s. “mummy, quickly” mandy huffs, sending you a little scowl when you giggle at her attitude. “sorry, baby, mummy will hurry” you tease, leah places a hand on the small of your back and leads you all to your seats.

“these two will be handfuls, baby, let me take care of them and you take this one” leah gently passes liv over to you, you smile and pucker your lips up at leah, which she quickly leans down to place a quick kiss on your lips.

she pulls away slightly, pecking them numerous times until she feel small hands on her legs, dragging her to the seat directly next to you. “do you see these little monsters you made” leah says jokingly, you stick your tongue out at her and shrug your shoulders. “i may have carried them, but they’re all you, williamson” you smirk. leah tutts, but smiles at you, “yeah, yeah, williamson, whatever, look at how stubborn they are, that’s all you”. leah teases and you roll your eyes at her jokingly, both of you knew that your daughters were clones of the both of you.

she takes mandy and cat and sits them in their seats, immediately putting on movies for both of them to watch, both of them entertained wholeheartedly. leah smiles at both of them, “can i sit with mummy or do you need me?” they both look at her with cheesy grins, “go kiss mummy” mandy teases, leah’s eyes widen with amusement, laughing and ruffling the girls hair and again gaining an icy scowl.

leah moves away to where you were, liv sleeping soundly on your lap while you sit and look up at her with a smile. “hello, mumma williamson” you say adoringly, your wife leaning down to place a kiss on your lips before sitting next to you. “hello, mummy williamson” she replies cheekily, placing another peck on your lips before settling in her seat beside you.

“they’re awfully quiet” you whisper in your wife’s ear, she nods in agreement, both of you look over to see your two daughters sleeping, heads resting on each other while completely out cold. you and leah look at each other sweetly, “we made them” leah pouts, you nod with a matching one, “we made them” you mirror, both of you have eyes full of pride and adoration.

the rest of the flight, the girls were mostly asleep, waking up to ask you to take them to the bathroom or for a little snack or meal before dozing off completely. “i think we should go on planes more often, look how perfect” you point at your sleeping daughters, leah smiles at you sleepily, clearly wanting to join. “let’s sleep” leah kisses your forehead and you rest your head on her shoulder, the five of you asleep and fully contempt.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by stanwaygeorgia and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: all my pretty babies

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yourname: leah williamson is a milf

↳ leahwilliamsonn: (y/n) williamson is a milf

stanwaygeorgia: my little monster

luzybronze: kitty cat

mbrighty04: still shocked at how you made such perfect children, considering both of you are fucking handfuls

↳ leahwilliamsonn: just because you’re second captain doesn’t mean you can put us down like that

↳ yourname: yeah! tell her, baby!

↳ mbrighty04: okay captain, you’re still a handful

↳ yourname: i won’t deny that

↳ leahwilliamsonn: baby!

[kyra-cooneyx]

Your mom gave me pictures of you when you were a baby , leah williamson x pregnant!reader where reader wants their baby girl to look like leah ... Thank you

mini you — l.williamson

“hello love,” you smiled as leah wrapped her arms around your waist, hands resting on your swelling stomach. “how was training?”

“good,” leah answered, resting her chin on your shoulder to peer down at the ham sandwich you were making. “oh you are so good to me.”

“i know,” you turned your head to quickly press your lips against leah’s. “but we’re sharing it.”

“course we are,” she muttered playfully as you rolled your eyes. “you haven’t long had lunch with my mum.”

“well i’m still hungry and i’m eating for two now remember.”

“oh before i forget babe look what i got today.”

leah’s arms unwrapped and you made quick work of halving the sandwich, placing the pieces onto plates before turning around. with a giant grin on her face, leah reached into a bag and pulled out the tiniest arsenal kit you had ever seen.

tears built up in your eyes and leah’s face crumpled as you burst into sobs. it certainly wasn’t the first time you’d cried over nothing since finding out you were pregnant, and your emotions seemed to have tripled after you found out that you were having a girl.

leah immediately raced over, wrapping her arms back around you and shushing you softly, hand caressing your stomach before wiping your eyes. “i hope these are happy tears.”

“they are leah. i’m so happy,” you sniffled. “your mum gave me pictures of you when you were a baby and seeing that baby kit made me realise how much i want her to look like you.”

“you want a mini me?” leah asked, a soft smile on her face as you nodded.

“i do. i’d love a little leah running ‘round in an arsenal strip. a mini you.”

“then we’ll make it happen. we’ll buy her strip after strip after strip until she’s sick of the colour red.”

you laughed, grabbing leah’s hands and holding them against your stomach. she pressed a kiss to your cheek and you decided right there that there was never going to be a better person for your daughter to grow up with and look up to.

[seonghwaddict]

ateez's favourite petnames for you

requested by anon. genre. hc, fluff. rating. sfw. warnings. petnames (duh), some are more feminine leaning. wc. 734.

lilo's notes. i'm soso sorry this took me so long to get out T-T

masterlist.

hongjoong

darling. the thought of him using that as a pet name makes me go awooga. idk i feel like it would just sound good in his voice, yk? he can be a tease sometimes too, and i feel like this one has the potential to convey his teasing perfectly while still being cute n stuff. like, he's whispering to you, hugging you from behind in the kitchen as you prepare food or something. or he's entering the house, calling out a soft "darling, i'm home!" AHHHH.

honourable mention: love.

seonghwa

angel. PLEASEEEEE idk it just suits him so well. personally i find the thought of any demon line member using this pet name extra scrumptious, but it's something about seonghwa that just does it for me. he has a gentle and warm voice. waking up to him gently nudging your shoulder, needing to leave early in the morning but not wanting to go without telling you, a soft chuckle as you look up at him in confusion, “sleep well, angel?”

honourable mention: bun/bunny.

yunho

tiny. size difference matters quite a bit to him in a relationship, and he loves pointing it out every chance he gets. he’d say this in a more teasing context, when he’s messing around with you or trying to get you to smile—which is all the time, probably. admiring your face late at night, tangled in each other’s limbs in bed, tired but not wanting to fall asleep just yet as he brushes his fingers against your jawline, “you’re so pretty like this, tiny.”

honourable mention: princess.

yeosang

sweetie/sweetheart. he’s a simple guy, really. anything that makes you smile makes him smile. and seeing the way you grinned the first time he called you that—a simple “hey, sweetie, could you come for a second?” that had you giggling and skipping over to him happily—well, it made him never want to stop calling you sweetie or sweetheart, to say the least.

honourable mention: precious.

san

babe. he would so call his s/o babe i can literally hear it idc argue with the wall. normally i’d convulse (negative) if a man called me babe unironically, but shit he can do that all he wants. anyways. he knows you love it when he calls you any sweet pet name, but his personal favourite is this one. it’s so simple, rolls off his tongue so easily. he’d say it so easily too, calling you and saying something along the lines of, “hey, babe, have you eaten yet? i wanna try this new place i found.” YUPPP

honourable mention: my love.

mingi

doll. i’m a mingi calling you doll enthusiast until the day i die. in every fic i’ve written about his he calls mc doll at least once and that’s exactly how it should be. moving on, i just think he would really love calling you that because it elicits the cutest reaction each time; shyly averted eyes, flushed cheeks. sometimes he likes to throw in a little ‘dolly’ to switch things up a bit, to catch you off guard.

honourable mention: (my) pretty/sweet girl.

wooyoung

babydoll. biggest tease of the century, he definitely has a whole arsenal of cheesy pet names to call you when he wants to be particularly annoying (e.g. “aw what are you pouting for, snookums?” “you’re the best, cupcake!” “my my, you are the apple of my eye,” etc.). but on the rare occasions where he’s not playing around, he likes any variation of baby, particularly babydoll. perhaps his adoration for the name was ignited when he first listened to babydoll by dominic fike, and saw how many times you replayed it, but who knows?

honourable mention: jagi (자기 — honey).

jongho

honey. i call this a double entendre. he doesn’t really use pet names much, but he likes this one because 1. it’s cute, it suits you almost as your actual name. this is a name a husband would use and he’s so husband coded it hurts me. and 2. he really is just a silly guy—and considering he’s often described as a bear, well, then it’s quite self explanatory. massaging your shoulders as he stands behind you, sat on the couch and groaning into your hands after a stressful day at work, his voice low and reassuring, “you always do so well, honey, please don’t worry your pretty little head over it more.”

honourable mention: dear.

networks. @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl

@likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd

@coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf @okdudeiime @jjoongstar

[bellawoso]

everywhere

aitana bonmati x reader

a/n : the sleeveless training top kills me every time i see it

aitana had been obsessed impressed with you ever since the 2021 games of barcelona vs arsenal, although she knew that she should be overcome by feelings of pride for her teams winnings, she couldnt help but let her small crush on you get in the way of her celebrations.

sure she was tired after the match, but so was everyone else, and they still managed to have a night out in the london bars. aitana however, spent all night stalking your instagram account on a random fake account she had, normal behaviour right?

after the 2022 euros knockout match, where england were victorious, aitanas crush which she thought was gone, came back even bigger when instead of immediately celebrating with your teammates, you instead went to the nearest spanish player to you, which happened to be the spaniard herself, and started consoling her. your hand on her back made her skin tingle, and momentarily she almost forgot about the loss when you whispered into her ear how she played a good game, before bringing her in for a warm embrace. aitana didnt waste the chance of wrapping her arms round your waist as yours went around her neck.

the brunette wouldnt be surprised if she dropped down with a heart attack right there when you requested for a shirt swap, with you both being number 6 nationally. seeing her name sprawled across your back definitely didnt ease her racing heart or her flushed cheeks.

———

the next time you saw the spaniard was at the world cup final, although you were out with your ACL injury at the time, you still wouldnt miss this match for the world. as soon as england lost you were straight onto the pitch, comforting your national teammates, who were about to see spain being crowned world champions.

you were just about to go talk to lucy, a close friend of yours from national camps, until aitana stepped in your path. you had grown quite fond of the girl, despite the fact you had never played for the same teams, you both respected each other greatly, and often congratulated each other through instagram of the others achievements. you werent quite ready for the girl stepping out in front of you, you were still on crutches, almost ready to come off them, the spaniard just clipped your crutch with her boot causing you to tumble forward slightly. luckily the brunette was ready to catch you, her strong arms gripping onto your waist whilst she repeated “lo siento” and lectured her self in spanish, until you cut her off “hola aita, good game you deserve this so much, i know how hard you worked to get here.”

“ah yes- gracias y/n, i am upset you dont play today, im sure you would have made a difference” aitana managed to get out, in slightly broken english but you found it extremely endearing.

“yes i am sad too, but i will be back for the euros before you know it! so, balon d’or huh?” you said with a grin, it was extremely obvious that the girl you was talking to was going to be a future balon d’or winner, despite her humble nature as she argued with you, saying there are other people who deserve it more than her.

until you cut off her rambling once again “aita it was so lovely catching up with you, but im positive all of your teammates are waiting for you to celebrate, i wouldnt want to keep you” you stated with a soft smile and a glance at ona who waited behind aitana, and seemed to have finished consoling lucy.

as aitana turned to walk away, you started walking over to lucy, painfully unaware of the extremely obvious glances aitana kept giving you over her shoulder, the spaniard prayed you didnt hear onas teasing.

———

it was around the start of december when you began playing again, helping by scoring 2 goals in the 4-1 win against chelsea. it was unsurprising how you had ended up on barcas radar, it was very unusual for a player to somehow be better than they were pre-ACL, after only just returning. it was safe to say that aitana had watched every single arsenal game since you returned, even on the ones where you didnt play, just to catch a glimpse of you on the bench. the other girls on her team had noticed this, and despite aitanas insistence that it was to keep up with the WSL and to check on laia codina, her teammates werent stupid. and it was painfully obvious every time aitanas breath hitched when you were displayed on the screen, which was quite often as you were a fan favourite.

you had also developed a bit of a fan-girling crush on the spaniard herself, it was hard not to when you saw her training pictures on her story daily, and couldnt help but wonder what you would have to do to be blessed enough to witness her training in real life.

clearly you didnt have to do much, as your manager called you one day to talk about potential transfers, one immediately stood out to you, barcelona.

it all happened very quickly in your opinion, although your manager disagreed as barcelona were actually being quite annoying with offering you a contract as they were constantly holding it until last minute. until finally they managed to sit you down with pen and paper, for you to begin your new journey with them. the media followed shortly after, barcelona and arsenal seemingly decided to just dump all of your departure and new arrival videos on every single social media platform they had.

aitana was at home when the media teams dropped your videos, immediately clicking on the notification from barcelonas instagram. she had been waiting for a while for keiras fully edited catalan interview to be posted, so she was visibly shocked when instead she was met with the sight of you in the barca home kit.

aitana definitely knew she was down bad when she couldnt fall asleep that night, her thoughts clouded of you in that stupid home kit, even better, in the barca tracksuit you had worn for your interviews.

she quickly sent you an short instagram message just to say ‘hola, welcome to barca amiga :)’ before finally managing to fall asleep.

———

your arrival was soon after, and despite your initial worry of not fitting in to the team, you soon learned that you got along fine with the girls after your first training session. from the very beginning aitana clung to you, immediately becoming your bestfriend on the team and promising to take you to all of the best hidden gems in barcelona. it was amusing to the team of how obvious aitana was being and how oblivious you were to it all.

such as the day where aitana was hit twice on the head by a football after not hearing the shout of “heads” while staring at you with heart eyes as you laughed with ona.

or when she was still running laps and warming up with keira whilst you had a 1 v 1 with lucy, and she ran into a goal post. she never truly lived that one down, and the whole team new about it as she had to go down to medical with a minor concussion and miss the next match due to her headache.

the bonus was that you were too scared to leave aitana at her apartment by herself after reading up about concussions online, so you stayed with her for a week. which was longer than necessary, but aitana didnt need to know the real reason for your insistence to stay.

the most recent thing to happen was when she dropped a weight on keiras foot in the gym when she saw you walk in, looking particularly good in the training kit today, this action made the english girl snap, telling aitana to just go admit her feelings, whilst cursing under her breath and walking to the medical room for an ice pack.

lucy came up behind aitana after keira left, chuckling about the previous incident but also to reassure the spaniard “dont worry aitana, ive known y/n for ages, she likes you back, trust me” she said, making aitana nod and turn on her heels to confidently and calmly walk over to you, as you were currently near the mats with ingrid.

except this didnt happen, as aitana didnt seem very confident or calm at all as she tripped as she neared you, causing her to stumble straight into you, sending the both of you tumbling straight to the floor.

“dios mío! lo siento y/n, i dont know what happened!” you stayed on the floor laughing about what just happened, as vicky came over “i think i know what happened, aitana just fell for y/n!” the younger girl shouted for the entire gym to hear like the pest she was, causing both you and aitana to flush bright red, still on the floor.

until aitana leaned over to you “while were still down here, will you please go on a date with me?” she asked giving her best puppy dog eyes.

“i would love to aita”

———

you and aitana went on the date on saturday, the brunette had chosen for the two of you to go to a coffee shop in the little town where she was raised, you could tell just how proud and passionate she was of where she was born. at first, things were a bit awkward between the two of you, until you fell back into your usual rhythm of chatting and laughing.

except for when aitana bumped into someone she knew from her youth, and stumbled a bit over her words when introducing you, the words “shes my girl-” coming out of her mouth before blushed cut her self off and ended up blurting out “y/n, shes my y/n” with an awkward, toothy grin.

this made you burst out laughing, at aitanas newfound social awkwardness, and the strangers confusion, it was only after they walked away that you playfully bumped your shoulder against hers, saying “if you wanted to be my girlfriend you could have just asked” with a smirk.

“cállate! muy molesta-“ as she carried on with her spanish rambling making you smile at seeing her worked up state until she suddenly asked “wait were you being serious that i can ask to be your girlfriend?”

“well normally back in england we dont ask the person for permission to ask them to be our girlfriend, but whatever suits you tana!” you answered back playfully.

“fine then! i wont ask if your going to be all sarcastic about it” the older girl replied. “sure you wont aita, sure.” taking a sip from your water bottle while the brunette seemed to be giving you the silent treatment

“be my girlfriend” she suddenly stated, making you choke on your water “thats really not how we ask back in england, spain must be very different” you thought aloud.

“stop it! just confirm it with me, we are basically dating all ready!” aitana huffed in faux frustration about how annoying you were being about this. “okay, okay! i would love to be your girlfriend then aitana.” this made her grin, so you were guessing you were in the good girlfriend books at the moment.

you and aitana went on many more dates after that, the two of you fit so perfectly. although you were both extremely talented footballers, aitana was always very work focused, whereas you got bored of things like match analysis very easily. where aitana was extroverted around new people, you were usually very quiet around strangers. you both balanced each other out very well, aitana often having to help you with your match analysis, and you being the one to get aitana to bed at the right time instead of letting her rewatch the match again.

———

one thing that aitana never really seemed to grow out of was the honeymoon stage, after two months of being together openly, she really should have got used to the fact that you were hers and she was yours. however, the spaniard never quite got over the fact that the two of you were actually together, especially after crushing in you for the past couple of years.

this led to her quite literally just trailing around after you everywhere, like a lost puppy. when you finally snapped and told her to go to keira, and socialise with her friends, said lost puppy suddenly became a kicked puppy that looked like you just abandoned it on the side of the road.

“but amorrrr, i wont bother you! i promise!” she begged, giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“aitana no! you have hardly spoke to your friends all week, and although i love you, your starting to really annoy me!” you said. your girlfriend had already dropped a dumbell on your ankle after she decided she needed to do her arm workouts right next to your workout mat. she had then spilt coffee all over you, which although she claims is all okay now as she gave you her hoodie to replace your top, you never quite got over the sticky coffee feeling in your skin.

your last straw was when she decided to try trail right behind you into your meeting with jonatan and some of the other coaches, solely a checkup and a one to one meeting about things to work on in training.

“aitana no! go to keira please, i love you but this is a one on one meeting, your not allowed to be in here” you didnt leave time for her to argue as you quickly planted a kiss on her lips and went into the room, shutting the door straight behind you.

you were never normally one to reject your girlfriends clinginess, however sometimes you just needed your own personal space, and today was an odd day where things werent going right and your temper was short.

you were going to apologise to aitana, but as soon as you came out of your meeting she was there with flowers and coffee for you, and saying sorry for annoying you today. “aitana no, its fine, if anything, i am sorry. i love being around you as your my girlfriend, but i do think its important you start hanging out with your friends again!”

“yes amor i understand, i actually went with ona to get the flowers and she got some for lucy too!” aitana replied, as she planted a kiss on your lips.

on the way home, aitana also called at one of your favourite shops that sold books and records. despite her being more of a spotify and film person, she still made an effort to be enthusiastic in the shop. she definitely did not get bored and decide to pull you in for a kiss behind the non fiction book shelf.

however, she still never really left her honeymoon phase.

———

yourusername

liked by ingrid_engen, lucybronze and 23,962 others

caption: she follows me everywhere but its okay tagged: aitanabonmati

comments:

aitanabonmati: you love it

-> yourusername: i do.

lucybronze: you two make me throw up

-> yourusername: dont act like you and ona arent the same.

marialeonn16: i counted 3 balls to aitanas head yesterday training

-> vickyylopezz._: she fell over aswell 😭

-> yourusername: guys leave tana alone! 🥹

-> aitanabonmati: what my gf said.

user1: they are so cute omg 😭

user2: power couple!

user3: best woso couple there is

———

a/n: this is not proofread so no judgement to bad grammar pretty pleasee

[wosoamazing]

A Painful First

Part 1 | Beneath the Surface

Warnings: First Period, Endometriosis, Bleeding Through, Mentions of Nausea, Pain

Notes: This is Part 1 to my new mini series Beneath the Surface, honestly kind of nervous about posting this but anyway here it is. I don't know how good this part is but it is more for setting the scene etc. I am currently in the process of writing the next parts, but I feel like they are much better. Hopefully I got everything pretty accurate, let me know what you think x

You were a Foord, your Mum was Maddie Foord, one of the physios for the Matildas and Arsenal. She was engaged to Leah, who you now lived with, and Leah was almost like your second Mum, you just hadn’t spent much time with her, between her busy schedule and your school and swimming there wasn’t much time spare for you two to spend bonding, meaning when you found out that Leah wasn’t going on international break because of her hamstring and that you could decide between staying or going to Australia, you decided to stay in London so you could get to know her better, Caitlin was sad that you weren't coming on camp and she told you she would miss you so much, but she understood your choice.

Staying in London also meant you could continue your rigorous swim training schedule which with the Aquatics GB Champs coming up in a few months was important to you.

You had a cramping pain before you fell asleep that night however you didn't think much of it, you had been having these random cramping pains often for the past few months, so you just ignored it as usual and fell asleep after messaging your Mum good night.

A few hours later you awoke to a stabbing pain in your abdomen, you brought your knees to your chest in hopes of easing the pain, the action causing you to notice a weird stickiness between your legs, you quickly stood up and noticed a patch of blood on your sheets, and a wave of panic ran through you, this wasn’t meant to happen this way, and your Mum wasn’t here, you didn’t want Leah to find out, you quickly made your way into the bathroom and called your Mum.

-

“Mum,” you said nervously through the phone as she picked up.

“What’s wrong bubs?”

“I um, it-” you puffed out.

“Bubs, take a breath for me and then try again,”

“I um, I think I started my period and I bleed on the sheets and I don’t know what to do and I don’t want to wake Leah up and I don’t want her to see the blood on the sheets and-”

“Bubs, it’s okay Leah isn’t going to judge you, she loves you just as much as I do, I’m sorry I’m not there right now but I promise you Leah will take very good care of you,” Your Mum told you, as she sent Leah a message.

“How am I meant to tell her though? I-, It’s gross and embarrassing,” unbeknownst to you Leah was currently in your room stripping your sheets and putting fresh ones on your bed, she was not disgusted at all and if anything felt slightly bad for you knowing how you would prefer your Mum to be there over her.

“Bubs, it happens to everyone, it’s okay, it's not your fault, how do you feel though? Like physically?”

“Okay, it doesn’t hurt that much,” that was a complete lie, your back ached, your stomach felt like someone was sitting on it whilst you were being stabbed and you felt sick, but she was all the way in Australia, you didn’t want to worry her, and every girl got periods, you were probably just over reacting. You heard a soft knock at your bathroom door and knew exactly who it was.

“Bubs, that will be Leah and I’m sorry but I really have to go now, let Leah in, she will help you, and I promise I’ll call you later,”

“Okay, love you,” you said before hanging up and opening the door to Leah, immediately looking down at your feet.

“Hey, there is no need to be embarrassed, it’s okay, it happens to everyone, it happens to me more than I’d like to admit,” Leah tried reassuring you, you just nodded nervously.

“I got you this, it’s going to be bigger than most, but it’s all we have, and none of the shops are open currently so I can’t go out and get some for you. But it’s okay, because tomorrow morning the first thing I’ll do is go to the shops and buy you some supplies, and then if you like we could spend the day watching movies together and just relaxing,” you nodded shyly at Leah before she continued, “Have a shower, get cleaned up, and call out for me if you need anything, I’ve changed the sheets on your bed but if you would prefer you are more than welcome to come into our bed and sleep in there with me if you want,” you nodded again before Leah left the bathroom giving you the privacy to do what you needed to do.

“Le, is it meant to hurt this bad?” You asked the blonde as you walked towards where she sat on the couch, having returned from the bathroom, tears pricking in your eyes, this was your second day of having your period and you hated how you couldn’t do anything because of the pain. Just as you took another step towards the couch a sharp pain shot down your back and you grabbed onto the back of the couch for support, before a few tears rolled down your cheeks. Leah was quickly up and on her feet, wrapping her arms around you to support you before gently and slowly guiding you to the spot on the couch where the both of you were sitting just before, she sat down before allowing you to make yourself comfortable.

“You good?” Leah asked as you finally settled, hoping you found a comfortable position, which you had sort of done so. You were curled up into a ball as you rested against Leah’s side, your head on her shoulder as her arm now wrapped around your back. She used her other hand to wipe away your tears that had fallen before she let out a slight sigh.

“To answer your question, no, it shouldn’t hurt this bad. There is actually something your Mum and I think we should talk about, and we thought having the conversation with just me might make you more comfortable, but I want you to know before I start that if you feel uncomfortable or want me to stop at any time just say so and I will, and if you have a question at any stage just interrupted me okay. What you’re experiencing currently isn’t normal and you shouldn’t be in this much pain, it could just be a bad period however it may also be something else, your Mum and I were talking and we think you could possibly have endometriosis, it’s what I have and a lot of your symptoms are similar to mine,”

“But you’re not couch ridden on your period,” you commented, causing Leah to have to stifle a laugh.

“I’m not normally no, but there are sometimes when I can’t do anything and I’ve known about it now for a little while so I know what helps me and I’ve got medication to help too. But do you know what endometriosis is?”

“Not really,” you said embarrassed.

“That’s okay, it's nothing to be ashamed about, not many people do, but it’s when the lining of your uterus grows outside of your uterus too, like on your ovaries and your fallopian tubes and if it’s really bad it can grow on some of your other organs and your pelvis too. I don’t want you to worry too much though because it could just be a bad period but at the same time I do want you to know that you shouldn’t have this much pain with a normal period, but we will keep an eye on your symptoms for the next few months and decided where we go from there, okay?” you nodded in agreement, the pain slowly over taking you yet again this side nausea came alongside it. 

“Can you come to the bathroom with me? I feel sick, and I don’t want to be alone and-” “Of course, do you want to go into mine and your Mum’s? It’s a bit bigger and then whenever you want we can get into our bed, might be more comfortable,” Leah offered reassuringly before you let out a small ‘okay’.

____

“Why can’t it just be normal? I just want to be able to swim, and do the things I normally do, like even just getting a cup of water would be nice” you cried, you had moved from the bathroom to your Mum’s and Leah’s bed a while ago, having curled into Leah’s side, resting your head on her chest.

“I know bubs, it’s no fun at all, but I promise you that I will get you help if it continues like this. The heat pad should help soon and then you might be able to get some sleep.” Leah tried reassuring you as she ran her fingers through your hair.

“Don’t go,” you mumbled quietly as sleep finally began to take over, your body absolutely exhausted from the pain.

“I’m not going to go anywhere bubs, I’m staying right here with you,”

[alotofpockets]

The first time | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader | 18+ MDNI

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, soft smut. Their first time, fingering (r giving), thigh riding (r receiving).

Woso masterlist | Words: 2k

-----

It wasn’t long after Kyra joined Arsenal that the two of you had started dating. Everything was going great, you had clicked instantly and loved spending time together. The only problem was that it wasn’t often that you got to spend one on one time with your girlfriend. You lived with Lia, she took you in at sixteen when you moved from Switzerland to play for Arsenal, and Caitlin had done the same for Kyra when she moved from Australia. You loved them both dearly, but they could be very over protective. You’ve had your fair share of sleep overs, but there was always someone else at home, restricting you from doing more than sleeping. So, the two of you had not yet had your first time, and that was totally okay for the both of you. You didn’t need sex for your relationship to work, but it was definitely something that the both of you were ready for.

At training Kyra was slightly more giddy than usual, but you hadn’t thought much of it until she pulled you aside after. “Katie is taking Caitlin to visit Ireland over the weekend.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively. “Oh, how nice of Katie to do so, I hope they will have a great time.” You loved messing with Kyra, so after you said that you turned around to walk away. “Hey wait, do you not want to come over and have the house to ourselves?” She sounded genuinely disappointed, so you quickly turned around again, “Of course I am coming over, dummy. I wouldn’t miss one on one time with my favourite girl.” With that it was settled.

You were both nervous and excited for tonight. If you both felt comfortable tonight it would be your first time together. Sure, over the past few months you had talked about sex and what the both of you liked, but tonight would be the real thing. You put your nerves aside and knocked on her front door. “Hi beautiful.” You greet your girlfriend, she was wearing a pair of football shorts, and one of your hoodies, and your favourite part of her look was her messy bun. “Hi baby.” She beamed back as she pulled you into a hug and into the house. You peck her lips after closing the door behind you. “Wanna watch a movie?” Kyra asks while she pulls you further into the home. “I'd love to.”

It was fully Kyra's intention to finish the movie, and to not just jump right into it, but the way your hand was moving up and down her thigh had her breath hitching. You were fully aware of what you were doing, and were loving the way Kyra reacted to your soft touches. Kyra's eyes were closed when you looked up from your position cuddled into her side. You smirk and lean up, “I thought you wanted to watch this movie.” You whisper into her ear, letting your lips linger. When she simply hums and keeps her eyes closed, you start softly kissing her neck. “Hm baby.” Before continuing, you take a moment to check in with her. “Do you want me to stop?” 

She quickly shakes her head, “No, please keep going.” You don’t need her to tell you twice, so this time you connect your lips with hers, and kiss her passionately. She intertwines her fingers into your hair and pulls you closer to her. “I love you so much.” You say when you both take a second to catch your breath. “I love you too, baby.” You straddle her waist and continue making out. 

Kyra’s hands make their way under your shirt, and your gasp from the contact with her slightly colder hands, gives her the opportunity to deepen the kiss. While she lets her tongue explore your mouth, you let your hands wander down her chest. When your hands meet her boobs, Kyra moans into your mouth. The sounds she was making were like music to your ears. Sure, you had made out a bunch of times, but none of the reactions compared to the soft moans that were filling your ears at the moment. “Is this still okay?” You ask her while your hands are still on her boobs. “More than.” Kyra says with a shaky breath. 

Kyra seemed to be getting more confident too, as her hands explored more of your back, and she let your shirt ride up with it. “Can I take this off?” Your heart was beating out of your chest at this point, your body filled with anticipation. “Please.” You sit up slightly, to give Kyra more room to take off your shirt. She tosses the piece of clothing to the side, and admires your body. “You are so beautiful.” She says before reconnecting your lips. Her hands now roam freely over your bare skin, all of the touching and kissing was turning you on big time, and out of instinct you started rolling your hips. “Fuck that’s so hot.” Kyra groans. You hadn’t realised you were doing it until her reaction, and stopped dead in your tracks. “No, baby, please don’t stop.” Her hands found their way to your hips and guided you back to the movements you were making. 

“Hmm, you’re still wearing too many clothes. It’s not fair when we’re not even.” Kyra chuckles softly at your joking comment. “Well we can’t have that, can we?” Her voice low. You move your hands to the hem of her hoodie, and lift it over her head. The hoodie gets discarded somewhere in the general direction of your shirt, as you let your eyes roam over Kyra’s toned body. “You are absolutely stunning.” Your fingers trace softly over the exposed skin. “Are you sure you want to do this?” You were sure that your continuous questions checking in were annoying, but you wanted to make sure that everything you were doing was alright with your girlfriend. “I am sure, baby. I want you.” Her eyes darkened in a way you hadn’t seen before, the look snapped something in you, and you moved the two of you to lay further down on the bed. Kissing her passionately again, as you let your hands roam free again, this time daring to go lower than before. 

Your fingers were playing with the waistband of her shorts, while your lips had made their way back to her neck. Kyra’s breath hitched when your hand moved slightly under the waistband of her shorts. You were about to ask her if it was okay, but she nodded eagerly before you even got a single word out. After a slight reposition of your body, Kyra arches her hips off of the bed, so you can rid her of her shorts, taking her underwear with it in one swift motion. “Can I?” Kyra asks, eying up your shorts as well. You giggle softly, “Yeah, I can’t make the equal rule just for myself, can I?”  The way that you were joking around, even in such a vulnerable moment, only proved to you further that you wanted to take this step with Kyra. After she takes off your shorts and underwear, you press your lips on hers again. 

Your hands make their way down Kyra’s body again, this time all the way down to her inner thighs, where you move your hand up and down a few times. “Please tell me when you want me to stop at any moment.” Kyra smiles down at you. “I know, baby. Same goes for you.” Once you’re sure that Ky is ready too, you slide one of your fingers through her slick folds. You groan at the feeling of her slick coating your fingers. “You feel so good baby.” You praise before you start slowly circling her clit. Kyra’s head falls back instantly as soft moans leave her lips.

The way her chest was rising and falling, as your fingers were making her feel good had you mesmerised. Kyra was always beautiful, but seeing her like this brought a whole new meaning to the word. You bring your free hand to her breast, while you gently enter her with one finger. “Hm so good.” Kyra groans out as she arches her hips off the bed to meet your slow thrusts, desperately needing more. In response you add a second finger, and when she has settled on the new feeling, you start pumping your fingers into her at a slightly faster pace. The feeling and her moans alone were enough for your own slick to start dripping down your thighs. 

Kyra’s moans get louder as you feel her tightening around your fingers. “I’m gonna-” She tries to speak but her pants interrupt her. “Come for me baby, I’ve got you.” With a few more thrusts of your fingers, she came moaning your name loudly. You gently work her through her high, as your lips meet hers in sweet kisses. “You did so good, darling.” 

You bring your fingers covered in her slick to your mouth and clean them off, this sparked something in Kyra instantly. She flipped the two of you over, just with a bit too much power due to her excitement, so you had to hold her back before she would roll off the bed. Both of you start laughing loudly, and Kyra falls down on top of you. “Wanna try that again?” You tease her. But you’re quickly shut up by her thigh meeting your core. A deep moan escapes your throat, hinting to Kyra that you were very worked up already. Her thigh had met your core accidentally, when she was trying to get up, but now she wanted to make you feel good that way, so she flipped you over again. 

This time, she managed to do it rather smoothly. You were now laying on top of her again, she put her own leg up slightly in between your legs, “Ride my thigh, baby.” Her confident words struck right to your core, and made you move your hips instantly. Kyra brought her hands to your hips, and started guiding you up and down her thigh. Your slick covered her leg instantly, and the pressure to your clit from the movement got you moaning into Kyra’s ear. She was loving the way you were getting yourself off on her thigh, and watched in awe how your face showed the pleasure you were feeling. You were working to your high quickly, by how turned on you got by pleasuring Kyra, and before you knew it you were teetering on the edge of your orgasm. “Let go for me, baby.” Kyra whispered into your ears, and you came instantly. 

You collapse on Kyra after riding out your high. With your face nestled into her neck you softly say, “Sorry that was quick.” You feel slightly embarrassed, but Kyra is quick to reassure you. “That was really hot.” She moves slightly so she can see your face, “That was amazing, baby, and I love you so much.” Kyra pecks your lips a couple of times. “I love you too.” You fall back into her arms, and she holds you tight. Together you enjoy the moment in quietness for a bit. Until you lift yourself up on one of your arms, “Wanna take a shower together to clean ourselves up?” Your girlfriend nods and follows after you, gathering up your disregarded clothes on the way there. 

Showering together was soft and comforting. She washed your body, and you washed hers, and while the shampoo was setting, you held each other. It was such a vulnerable moment between the two of you, but you felt nothing but warmth and comfort. After your shower, you make your way back into the bed, and cuddle up together. The evening continued with some conversations about your first time, wanting to make sure that both of you felt good before, during, and after. And it eventually ended with you falling asleep comfortably in Kyra’s arms. 

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[mysunshinetemptress]

Fall In Love

Leah Williamson x Reader

Warnings: first time I have written anything in weeks so I’m rusty, couple of curse words

“ I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Leah let out quietly in the darkness of your shared hotel room. She had been struggling more then usual lately and you could see it plain as day, you weren’t the only one but you were the only one she had voiced it to and so you kept quite, still, scared that if you moved she would shut off again.

“I love Arsenal, I….I have loved Arsenal forever…I will love Arsenal forever….but I don’t know if I can keep doing this… and now with England I feel like I’ve lost it.” There’s a beat of silence before she shifts turning on her side to look at you.

It’s dark but you can make out the way the tears shimmer at the bottom of her eyes, how her chin is wobbling, how she’s holding her breath trying to stop herself from feeling.

You roll over too, both of you staring at each other, you want to hold her tell her she’s ok, that she’s going to be ok but you don’t know if she wants to be touched so you settle for just looking at her before letting out a soft sigh.

“You have been through so much…you are going through so much, you love Arsenal but it hasn’t been kind to you recently…he hasn’t been kind to you recently even now when he’s gone he has taken so much from you that you are scared to be you, to preform to your full potential….he has taken away your love for the game Le, you haven’t lost it…it was stolen from you and now you just have to take it back…I’ll help you take it back.”

You watch the tears start to fall, the shimmer in her eyes now carving a path down her cheeks and you go to wipe them away but she grabs your hand pulling you towards her.

“Help me.” She sounds like a child , a lost little girl who can’t find her mum in the store and has lost all hope.

“In every way I can.” Leah shuffles so that she is now lying on top of you, you can’t see her eyes anymore but you can still feel the tears as they run off her cheeks and on to your chest.

The next morning is a day off, Leah doesn’t talk but she clings to you through breakfast, the girls surprised that the normal chatter box is so quiet and the fact that she is openly lying on top of you as you finish your food, how unfazed you are running your free hand through her hair gently while talking to Alex.

You have decided to take the two of you away from the group, rented a car and drive quietly around Coventry before parking at a park.

You pull Leah out of the car before making your way to the boot and taking out a football, Leah looks at you eyebrows forward in confusion, you ignore her stare taking her hand and walking into the park gently rolling the ball in front of you.

You stop in an open wide field, it’s a field surrounded by trees, no people, no goals, no people, just a field. You roll the ball gently to Leah and watch as she rolls it gently back, you both go back and forth slowly before you take a step back and kick it harder, you continue to move further from her as your passes get longer.

You go for a long kick only to slip back and fall into the grass and for the first time in weeks you hear her laugh. “Hey that’s not funny that fucking hurt.” Leah’s got her hands on her knees now as she tries to catch her breath, you kick the ball hitting her in the shoulder and watch as she falls back into the grass, it’s your turn to laugh now and laugh you do especially over the small “of balls.” She lets out before going down.

You don’t see the ball coming hitting you in the head and for a moment there’s a pause as Leah tries to assess if she’s just caused a concussion or if your ok but you let out a laugh and watch as her shoulders drop and she relaxes laughing too.

You both continue launching the ball at each other before Leah kicks it over your head and you shake your head turning to give her a playful smile before walking over to get it. You bend down to pick it up only to be pushed on to your back as Leah lets out a roar of a laugh, and you can’t possibly help but join her “oye get off me you shithead.” Only leah doesn’t move, she doesn’t stop laughing even as she leans down to kiss you.

You don’t realise the time until you break apart and look up to see the stars instead of clouds. “ I think it’s time we head.” Leah nods softly pulling you up before wrapping her self around you and kissing you softly again. She doesn’t talk, she doesn’t need to you got everything from that kiss alone.

Yet she still thanks you later that night in the darkness of your hotel room, she holds your hand softly bring your palm to her lips whispering a gentle thank you. “That’s the most fun I’ve had kicking a ball in so long.” You smile softly at her “I’ll gladly help you fall back in love with football anytime.”

“I’ll never love anything more than I love you.”

[russo-woso]

please make Mini Williamson a series I loved it so much!!

Milestones || Leah Williamson x reader

Part of the mini Williamson universe.

Summary Little Williamson reached a massive milestone

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Leah loved milestones. Whether it was a first date, a first kiss, a first anniversary, she loved it.

What she loved even more, was when the milestones included Amelia.

When Amelia had her first bottle, Leah cried as she held Amelia in her arms whilst feeding her.

When Ami could hold her head up properly. Leah wasn’t home at the time due to her training, but you knew she’d want to know and so you phoned her and she stopped training and drove home to celebrate.

When Amelia started crawling. You were all sat in the living room and Leah was on the floor with Ami. Amelia was having her tummy time for the day and soft giggles filled the room as Leah played with some of her toys with her.

Your heart melted as you heard the giggles escaping Ami’s mouth.

You watched on as Leah encouraged her to crawl.

She set Ami up on her knees and after about seven times of Amelia face planted the soft carpet, she set one knee in front of the other and made her way over to her mummy.

Leah’s smile widened as she realised Amelia had crawled for the first time. Once Ami had reached Leah, Leah enveloped her in a hug, Amelia immediately melting into Leah’s body.

Unknowingly to Leah, you had recorded the whole thing.

You posted it on TikTok and the fans loved it.

And Leah did too. She loved the thought of being able to show her fans the pride she felt for Amelia in that moment.

However, the biggest milestone Amelia had achieved was her first steps.

Just four days before her first birthday, Amelia took her first steps.

Alessia, Amelia’s godmother, had come down to St Albans to spend the weekend for Amelia’s birthday.

Most of the Arsenal and England girls had been invited for a get together for her birthday, but Alessia insisted that she wanted to spend the weekend because she hadn’t seen you all in months.

You couldn’t say no, you loved Alessia like she was your little sister and having her around was always a treat.

It had been a quiet day. Leah had gone to training in the morning which meant you and Amelia spent the day showing Alessia round St Albans.

You went in a few shops and bought a few lasts minute gifts for Ami.

With a mix of yours and Leah’s presents for her, plus all your family and friends, It was safe to say that she was going to be spoilt for her birthday.

The current spare bedroom, was filled with presents.

Alessia was sleeping in the spare bedroom and was constantly going on about how toys were falling on her whilst she was sleeping.

You arrived back home just in time for Leah to get back from training.

You had made a cuppa for both you and Less, settling on the couch before Leah walked through the door.

She walked into the living room, planting a kiss on your lips before picking up Amelia who laughed as Leah pressed kisses all over her face.

Alessia was sat on the floor playing with Ami whilst you and Leah spoke about her training session.

“It was like a rocket, baby. It went straight past Manu.” Leah explained, and you smiled at her genuine excitement.

“I’m sure it did, le. Well done, love.” You said to her, cuddling more into her side as you continued to watch Alessia play with Amelia.

You watched as Amelia tried to climb up to stand.

She had mastered standing at that point but it was just the walking part.

Less helped stabilise her before encouraging her to walk.

With the speed of light, Leah had separated from your touch and found herself sitting opposite Alessia.

“Come on, baby girl, you can do it.” Leah said to Amelia, who couldn’t understand a words Leah had just said.

Amelia put one foot in front of the other and slowly made her way to Leah.

You all clapped her on as a massive smile appeared on Amelia’s face, clearly loving the attention.

As Ami got to Leah, she fell forwards but Leah caught her before bringing her towards her chest, kissing Amelia’s head over and over again.

You crouched down next to them, taking Amelia from Leah as you too, kissed her head.

After a minute of you and Leah hugging Ami, you gestured for Alessia to join the group hug.

After just thirty seconds, you split away from the hug noticing that Amelia was fast asleep on your chest.

Her head was buried in your neck and her body limp against your chest.

The busy morning and the walking had obviously tired her out.

“I’m so proud of her.” Leah said, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.

“I am too. Oh, baby, are you crying?” You cooed at Leah, who nodded her head, tears falling down her cheeks.

“She’s not going to be our baby girl for much longer.” Leah managed to get out, her voice breaking.

“Le, she’ll always be our baby girl. Forever.” You told her, bringing your arm to reach Leah, bringing her into your side. “And hey, just think. We’ll get to do this all over again when we have another one.”

“I can’t wait.” Leah stated, a smile taking over her saddened face before placing a kiss on your lips.

“Another one? Awe, Ami gets to be a big sister.” You jumped as Alessia voice filled the room.

“Fuck Less, you scared me.” You turned to look at Alessia on the other side of you, a grin evident on her face as you gently punched her arm.

You’d been so focused on Leah that you’d forgotten Alessia was even in the room.

“I’ll go put Amelia down and then we’ll spend the rest of the day watching movies. Sounds like a plan?” You questioned, Leah immediately nodding but Alessia looked away, biting her lip. “Alessia, what did you do?” You knew her oh so well, knowing that she’d done something she shouldn’t have.

“I may have bragged to Tooney that I helped Ami take her first steps. But I forgot to check if I was private messaging her, so it turns out, that I accidentally messaged the group chat and now all the England girls are making their way here.” Alessia explained, Leah’s eyes widening as she checked her phone which confirmed that Alessia’s story was in fact true.

Messages with congratulations to Amelia filled Leah’s phone.

The rest of the afternoon was hectic. It was hectic but full of love.

All Leah’s teammates were family at this point and the fact some of them had travelled hours just to spend the afternoon with your daughter just showed how much they loved her.

Amelia was still asleep when most of them got there but as soon as the sound of crying was heard from the baby monitor, Leah jumped up to go get her.

Le walked back into the room, everyone gathering round to greet the mini Williamson.

You watched as Leah grinned at all her friends with Amelia.

Lia took Ami from Leah and Leah immediately walked over to you, sitting down next to you on the couch.

“So, you mentioned another one.” Leah began, not taking her eyes off her teammates, just imaging them all with Amelia and another baby.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready. Of course, Ami’s still young but I’m ready when you are.” You whispered to Leah, your head resting on her shoulder.

“Two mini Williamsons? God help the world.” Tooney exclaimed, sneaking up behind you and obviously overhearing the conversation.

“I now know where Alessia gets it from.”

Requests are open :)

[repulsiveliquidation]

Guardian of My Heart || Leah Williamson

based on this request here! it's not that long but i loved writing this so much so i hope y'all like it!

warnings : angst with happy ending. mentions of injury.

“And that’s the final whistle folks, Chelsea takes this game with a comfortable 3-1 win over the Gunners here at Stamford Bridge.”

Leah’s eyes fill with tears at the final whistle. Her heart shatters audibly in her chest. A game they needed to win to have a chance at the title, thrown away by silly mistakes and sloppy football. She walks around the pitch in shame, apologizing to all the Gooners in the stands who came only to see them fail.

“I’m sorry,” she says to the crowd, tears falling down her face. The rest of the girls do the same, making their way to the stands to thank fans and sign jerseys. The home side erupts in a painful cry of victory, one that makes Leah’s chest almost cave in on itself.

The changing room is silent except for the sound of bags being packed and the muted drumming of water on the floor from the showers. One by one the girls make their way to the bus, offending socks from the wardrobe mishap filling the trash bin in the locker room.

Leah sulks when she hears the girls all planning to see their partners at home and just forget today’s game. She just jammed her AirPods into her ears and played her country music loudly, hoping the gaping hole of loneliness in her chest would go away with the serenading words of Luke Combs.

She knew her house would be lonely. She knew her house would be quiet. She knew her house would be dark. There was no one waiting. The person she wanted most would not be there. There was only one person to blame for that.

“Leah, you can’t keep doing this to me!” you yelled, rounding the coffee table as Leah stumbled into the house at twenty past three on a Saturday. You came over at eight thinking Leah would be home since she promised to help you cook dinner and enjoy the Bachelor finale on TV together. Instead, you walked into her apartment with your spare key to an empty house and her bedroom a mess. Her makeup was all over the bathroom and she had clearly changed her shoes at least three times.

You waited and waited for her to get home, calling the Arsenal girls to figure out where she had gone. They felt sorry for you and tried to get Leah to go home to you but she said something that the moment it left her lips, your heart broke into pieces.

“You’re such a fucking needy bitch, get off my back for once!”

You don’t know why you still sat in her living room for three more hours and waited for her to get home. You knew you needed to know she was home safe. That she was okay. That she didn’t choke on her own vomit from drinking too much. Because despite being her second choice for a while now, you still loved the England skipper. You still love Leah Williamson.

Leah drove home in pin-drop silence. Her kit bag was thrown in the back to be dealt with later, her arm on the door holding her head up as the streets of London were a blur. She parked in her spot and walked out like a zombie, not noticing your car in her driveway and her porch light on.

The key turned easily and she walked into her house to the turntable on low and the smell of smileys and a roast coming from the kitchen. She looked down and saw a pair of shoes that she recognized and a voice that was singing along to the music that she had fallen asleep to a million times.

“Y/N?” Leah spoke aloud, toeing her shoes off and dropping her kit bag. She shuffled into the kitchen and saw you standing there at the stove, stirring in the roasting tray and making a gravy. There were two plates on the island she instantly knew which one was hers. You turn and give her a soft smile, pushing your chin out to gesture her to sit. She does and grabs the bottle of wine you’ve set out and pours the two glasses full of Cabernet.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, grabbing a smiley off the plate she knew was hers and nibbling on the cheek.

“I wanted to make sure you had something to eat,” you answer curtly as you put the whisk down and grab a gravy boat, smiling to yourself when you still remember where it was.

“Y/N,” Leah says sternly, putting her half-eaten smiley down.

You turn and put the gravy boat next to the roast, finally looking at your ex-girlfriend.

“I needed to know that you were okay, after today.”

“Why?” Leah asks, voice carrying a lilt of guilt with fresh tears filling her eyes.

You walked around the island and turned the skipper in her seat to face you. You held her face in your hands, wiping the tears that fell. You had been in this situation before when Leah tore her ACL.

“You’re going to be okay, Leah.”

“What if I never play like I used to ever again?”

“You don’t ever need to worry about that because you will. The Leah Williamson I know never gives up.”

She chuckles but more fear settles in her heart. Leah looks up at you at the very island she’s sitting at right now.

“I’m scared,” she admits sheepishly, looking defeated and terrified. You cup her face and wipe the tear stains off her face.

“You will get through this Leah and I will be there every step of the way.”

“You won’t leave? They always leave.”

“I would never. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispers back to you before you kiss her, her mind willing itself to get better. If not for her, for you.

Zach Bryan’s voice fills the room softly, the lyrics of ‘Tourniquet’ “take care of the blood that your love runs through” remind you of why you packed up a roast and stopped at the shops for a bag of frozen smileys. It reminds you of all the nights you massaged her leg when it was feeling tight. It reminds you of all the nights when you sat beside her and held her close while she cried at another delay in her recovery. It reminds you of all the nights you spent awake with her when she couldn’t sleep because of the pain.

Was it worth it? Yes.

Would you do it all over again? Yes.

Leah breaks down when her eyes meet yours. The smell of your perfume and your musk flood her senses with all the reasons why she was in love with you all those years. Deep down inside she knew she still felt that way and hoped that you did too.

Leah cries. The pain of losing, hurting her hamstring just as she’s called to the England squad for the first time since her ACL, and the overwhelming sense of disappointment burst the moment you held her in your arms again. It was home and it was safe. Leah clung onto your hoodie and made a right mess on the front but you didn’t care. Leah needed you and you wished you could take away her pain.

“I just wasn’t me out there today and that cost us the game,” Leah muttered after calming herself down and her hiccups stopped.

“Today wasn’t just your fault, honey,” you cooed, taking the hair tie out of Leah’s hair and combing your fingers through her blonde locks. She rested her head against your stomach and closed her eyes, zeroing in on your touch.

“I let the team down,” she countered, pulling you closer to her.

“It just wasn’t anyone’s day today, my love,” you cupped her face and wiped more of the tears that were about to fall from her eyes. You leaned in a little and were a bit unsure, but feeling her nudge herself towards you gave you the approval you sought.  

Her lips felt familiar against yours.

Salty.

Warm.

Recognizable.

Home.

She chased your lips and melted into them, gripping your wet hoodie like her life depended on it or that you would vanish if she let go, even for a second.

“I’m sorry I treated you the way I did, you don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve someone willing to love you for you, Leah,” you reassure her and seal it with a kiss, walking away from her to chuck the roast back in the oven to warm up for a bit and her smileys into the air fryer for a little reheating.

Zach’s voice fills the blanks when you look at her blue eyes, her features blow you away every time you look at her. You bled your whole soul into things you can't control; in a world you'll never satisfy brings Leah back to reality. The game today was good. It didn’t go their way from the beginning with those wretched socks and their delayed start but they gave it their all. It was a lesson to be learned and one to look back on when the team had lost its spark.

Leah scoffs down half the roast and convinces you to throw a couple more smiley into the air fryer for her to drown in your delicious gravy. You put a fresh toothbrush next to hers in her bathroom and have a glass of warm milk on your bedside waiting for you like you like.

“You remembered,” you tell her as she hands you a ratty jersey for you to sleep in. You throw it on and inhale her delicate scent, your heart filling with warmth and ease.

“I still set it out sometimes you know, especially after you left.”

“You’ll have to try and remember again now, I think,” you tease, and she stands in front of you. You sip on your milk and she kisses the foam mustache off your lips.

“I’ll never forget, my love. Ever.”