#She’s so good for him in Garcia’s universe

[vee-crytraps]

Damian/Max

[0o-junebug-o0]

First Meeting

summary: You're having difficulty with some code so you stop by Penelope's house for help, unaware that she has a guest. Spencer takes one look at you and is immediately head over heels.

genre: fluff

cw: meet cute (is it a meet cute?) completely gn!reader (reader is not described at all), no use of y/n, autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer), season 1 spencer, university/college student reader, talk about research and coding, pov switch from reader to spencer

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: this is an actual error I had this summer when writing my spectra analysis code

You lean back in your chair with a sigh, scowling at the code you’re trying to write. You’re still relatively new to coding, the first time you ever took a class on it was just under two years ago, so this code has taken you significantly more time to write than it would have taken Penelope. But you’ve written it. You read through the code again and rerun it. Everything runs fine, the code should work, but it doesn’t. 

You rub your eyes and groan with frustration. You should be able to get a wavelength solution out of this. The professor you’re doing research with told you what you need to do to get the wavelength solution and then how to use it to find the redshift of the lensed galaxy and the foreground lensing galaxy, but nothing is lining up!

You’ve opened the data, plotted the variation in flux for each line in the image, fit a Gaussian to it to get the brightest point, and converted the pixel value of that point to vacuum wavelength, but none of the wavelengths you’re finding match up with what lines should be present in the spectra for this lamp type!

You briefly consider emailing your professor but decide against it. Even though he told you that asking him things wouldn’t bother him and that it’s his job, you don’t want to take up more of his time than you already have. 

You look around your apartment for anything that might help. Your eyes land on your keychain and the spare key Penelope gave you because she enjoys it when you stop by. You quickly shut your laptop, tucking it under your arm, grab your keys, slip on a pair of shoes, and make your way down the hall to Penelope’s apartment, not bothering to lock the door behind you. 

_____

Spencer sits awkwardly on one of Garcia’s kitchen stools, tapping his fingers on the Tardis mug she had filled with tea and given him. He’s not exactly sure why Garcia invited him over. She said she wanted to bond, but they’ve known each other for almost two years now, and Spencer considers her a good friend, so he doesn’t really know what bonding entails. So far, Garcia has just been bustling around her kitchen preparing snacks and drinks for their Doctor Who marathon.

The lock clicks and Spencer’s head whips toward the door just in time for it to burst open. Spencer freezes and stares at you in awe and confusion. 

“Penny!” you cry, your voice a mixture of a shout and a whine. 

Garcia calls your name with a surprised look. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“What?” you ask. Then you wave your hand flippantly. “Yeah I’m fine, I just need help with some code.” Your eyes land on Spencer and he can feel his heart rate increase. He really hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had someone over,” you say. “I can, um, I can come back later.”

Spencer watches as your posture stiffens slightly and you start to fiddle with your keychain. 

Spencer opens his mouth to reassure you but Garcia beats him to it. “No, no, it’s fine,” she says. “I’ve been wanting you two to meet anyway.” You shoot Spencer a small, awkward smile and wave from across the room when Garcia shares your name. When she introduces him, your eyes widen and you look toward Garcia with an expression Spencer can’t decipher and mouth something to her that makes her laugh loudly. 

Spencer can feel himself flushing at your reaction and takes a sip of his tea to hide his face.

“Anyway!” Garcia says cheerfully. “Do you mind if I help them real quick?”

“Go ahead,” Spencer responds, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. It’s difficult with you there, though, all his thoughts suddenly seem much harder to grasp. Like your presence is forcing them aside. 

Your eyes seem to linger on him for a moment before you head over to the counter and set your laptop down. “Right,” you mutter, opening it and entering the password. Spencer listens intently as you describe to Garcia what your code should be doing and he can’t help but smile at the clear passion in your voice. It sends butterflies to his stomach. 

“What do you study?” Spencer blurts out. 

You close your mouth and cock your head at him for a moment. “I’m, uh, I’m studying astrophysics. Specifically strong gravitational lensing. I’ve already made preliminary models of the system and I’m just working on analyzing the spectra now.”

Spencer nods and leans over to look at your code. 

“Do you want to help Penny find the issue?” you ask. You sound a bit nervous and Spencer looks up and smiles what he hopes is a soothing smile.

“I would if I could. I really don’t know how to code, though.”

“Seriously?” you ask. Spencer cocks his head at the tone of surprise in your voice. “Sorry, it’s just that Penny has told me a lot about you and about how you’re a genius and have three PhDs, which is insanely impressive by the way, so I guess I’m just surprised you don’t know something.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know,” Spencer admits. “Coding and other technological things are some of it. I don’t know too much about astrophysics either.” That’s not exactly true but it isn’t a lie either. He’s read papers on several astrophysical topics but he’s never come across one on strong lensing before. But the truth of the statement is irrelevant, the only reason he said it was to find an excuse to spend more time with you.

You smile and Spencer’s stomach feels like it does a backflip. “I won’t be much help teaching you how to code, Penny would be better for that, but I can tell you about some astro stuff at some point.”

“Alright, lovebirds,” Garcia teases and Spencer’s face burns. “Let’s focus.” You nod, clearly also a bit embarrassed, and turn back to your laptop.

“How about I go line by line and tell you what it should do and you let me know if something doesn’t do what I think it does,” you say. Garcia nods and both she and Spencer follow along as you point to and describe each line of code. You get to a printed image of the data file you’re analyzing before Garcia stops you.

“Can you open the file on your computer?” she asks.

You nod and open the file in a new application and move it so it’s side by side with the image in your code. “Wait,” you mutter, glancing back and forth between the two images. “Is that seriously the issue?” Spencer leans forward to get a closer look, the x-axes of the images are flipped. 

You throw your head back with a groan and change the rotation of the file in your code. “I swear, if this works,” you growl. The clear exasperation in your tone makes Spencer chuckle slightly. 

You rerun the code and compare several of the outputs to a list of wavelengths before groaning again and letting your head fall onto the counter. “I hate Python,” you grumble. “Why does it have to switch the axes!” 

Garcia laughs and pats you on the back. You raise your head off the counter and tap your forehead against her shoulder in a gesture Spencer assumes expresses gratitude. “Thanks, Penny,” you sigh. “You’re the best.”

“Of course I am!”

“Oh, and Spencer,” you say, turning to look at him. “We should get lunch sometime. I can tell you about astrophysics and you can tell me about all the crazy things you know.”

“I-I would love that,” Spencer stutters, unable to speak clearly with you looking into his eyes. He's hardly able to wrap his head around the fact that someone as beautiful as you would want to spend more time with him. Spencer's not sure whether you’re asking him on a date or just to go out as friends, but he doesn’t care either way as long as he gets to spend more time with you.

“Great!” you say happily. You stand and cross the room to quickly grab one of Garcia’s pens before returning. You hold the fluffy pink pen with a smile on your face and hold out your hand for his. “May I?” you ask. 

Spencer’s eyes widen and he nods, setting his hand in yours despite his usual aversion to touch. The contact makes his heart feel like it’s about to burst from his chest. You scrawl your number across the back of his hand before handing Spencer the pen and holding out your hand for him to do the same. He writes his number on your hand and watches in a sort of daze as you gather your computer and keys and wave goodbye before leaving.

Spencer jumps slightly as Garcia ruffles his hair. He looks over at her to see a knowing smile on her face. Spencer blushes and hides his face in his hands. “Shut up,” he grumbles, embarrassed.

“No way,” she laughs. “Derek’s going to have a field day with this. Boy genius has a crush!”

_____

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[kiss-inthekitchen]

bonus! i said i wasn't posting anything new til this weekend but i just got up to s5 e2 and spencer reid with that lollipop has made me insane, here's a drabble i just wrote in like 30 mins. barely edited, hot off the presses, hope u like

sucker

~500 words

Who the hell let this man have a lollipop in the workplace?

You could kill Garcia. 

You’re trying to act normal– trying so hard– but he looks so good. His hair is longer than it's ever been, so beautifully curly at the ends and you just know it’s soft. You need to test the theory but you can’t and it kills you on even a regular day. 

But today is a thousand times worse. There’s something about Spencer since he got shot, he just seems to give less of a shit. It definitely shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. 

It doesn’t help that you’d come in to tell him that you all had to be on the jet in thirty, and then he and Garcia had started asking questions, so Spencer’s been looking up at you from his chair for the past few minutes and something about it is getting to you. 

So yeah, you’re trying not to get so immediately caught for staring at Spencer as he wraps his lips around the lollipop again, but you’re also not about to miss a single second of it. You’re not about to do yourself that disservice. 

You clear your throat as the news broadcast about your unsub ends. “Right. So we’re going to Louisville.” 

Spencer moves to get up, finally. Popping the candy in his mouth, he waves one– large, long-fingered– hand at Garcia and reaches for his crutches. 

What is wrong with you?? You need to get it together before you’re stuck on the jet with pretty boy and all of the most astute people-readers in the Western hemisphere. 

God, you hate your life. If the universe was kind and loving it wouldn’t have had you meet Spencer in the behavioral analysis unit. If the universe was kind and loving, Spencer would be yours already. 

This was some kind of cosmic joke. 

“You good?” he asks. He took the lollipop out of his mouth to speak to you, his eyebrows raised in the most annoyingly attractive way. 

“Yeah?” you scoff, as if he’s the one being weird. 

“Okay. Cause you told me we have to leave and now somehow you can’t keep up with the guy on crutches,” he muses from the doorway, while you haven’t moved an inch. 

This man. If he wasn’t injured you would hurt him. You might just do it anyway. 

You shoot him a sarcastic smile. “I was being polite.” 

“How chivalrous of you,” he says, putting the candy back in his mouth and crutching his way down the hall without a second glance. 

You look at Garcia, and it’s a mistake. You can read her like a book. “Don’t,” you warn, pointing at her, and she presses her lips together but is clearly smiling behind them. “And I am so mad at you for that,” you add, gesturing after him. 

“Wh– he just took one, it’s not like I–” 

“Save it!” you call, already halfway out the room. You hear her laugh behind you, and shake your head. You love that girl, but she was not doing you any favors. 

Fuck it. 

You breeze past Spencer in the hallway. “Keep up, pretty boy.” 

You hear his indignant, playful scoff behind you, and you can’t help the smirk that creeps onto your face.

[sinofwriting]

So Many Reasons - Ollie Bearman

Words: 3,343 Summary: She honestly just wants to go to these two races to see her brother so he won’t complain about never seeing her anymore that is it. She has exams, an internship, and a job, she doesn’t have time for any of this. Note(s): Thank you V once again for commissioning the fic! I had a lot of fun writing it and may or may not have spent an hour researching different business degrees and universities and such. Reader is Andrea Kimi Antonelli’s older sister. Age gap of 3 years between her and Ollie. Not good family dynamics between her and Kimi and their father.

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“Andrea, no.” Her voice is firm, perhaps harsh but she doesn’t care. She was tired, hungry, and had to stay up for at least another six hours. Her last red bull in her bag sounded better every second. “C’mon, sorella. It is my first F2 race. You can miss a few classes.” Her jaw clenches and she forces herself to take a deep breath. Thank god this was just a phone call. “No, Andrea. I can’t. I have exams.” “Ask for an extension.” “Andrea,” she snaps. “Does padre know you are asking me this?” His voice is quiet, “no.” She sighs, pushing away her work. “How is your school work going?” “It’s fine.” “And the sim?” “Good.”

It’s quiet between the two siblings.

“It’s been months since we last saw each other. Do you not miss me?” “We saw each other at Christmas.” She reminds him but softens. “Of course I do. But I’m busy. I can’t take a few days away to go to a race, at least not one that’s not in Europe.” She looks at her planner, at the days blocked out with different colors. Purple for exams, blue for classes, yellow for work, green for work and classes, the dreaded orange for when she had both exams and work. It was filled for days, weeks, and months. “I could maybe make it for Imola.” She’d have to talk to her professors, put in her time now for work, but she didn’t have any exams the day after his feature race. “Maybe even Monaco if you can get me a spare pass.” She shouldn’t go to Monaco, not with her final exams to obtain her MBA starting just the day after the race, but she didn’t have any work those days and she could always bring her books with her. “Really?” She smiles at the excitement in his voice. “Really. Are you sure you want your big sister around?” “Yes. It will be nice to have family in the paddock. Someone other than dad.” She hums, eyes widening as they catch the time. “Let me know about the passes for the different races, okay? As soon as you get them I’ll talk to my professors.” “I will.” “Bye Andrea.” “Bye.”

—

“Mr. Garcia?” She knocks on the door frame. “You asked to see me?” He smiles, beckoning her in. “Yes. Please sit.” He gestures at the chairs in front of his desk before quickly typing something. She sits down, smoothing the fabric of her skirt. “I wanted to talk to you about your plans after you get your MBA.” “I’d like to get a travel position or be able to work remotely half of the time. Then I think after ten years of doing that, I’d like to take a bigger account or two.” He hums, looking at her consideringly. “Why the travel position?” “I like traveling, going to different places, and when I went once before with Maria, I liked what she had to do.” “You're also good with languages.” “Yes.” “And the hybrid?” She fidgets a little. “The same reasons really as the travel position and I like the extended hours.” His lips twitch into a smile, “Maria hated remote.” She nods.

“She said you’d be suited for it.” Her leg that had started to bounce stops. He leans forward, “I’d like to keep you on. I know that your internship with Maria ends the first week of May. And that you’re only supposed to continue to work with us until August. But I’d like to offer you the remote position, starting June 20th.” She looks at him with a slight open mouth. “What,” she clears her throat. “What exactly would that look like?” He pushes forward a folder. “All of the details are in there, but there are two important things. There will only be a few days every month that require you in the office. Those days are always made known at least two weeks in advance, some as much as six months.” She nods. “The second is you will have strict deadlines. Miss two within a three month period and you will be on probation, meaning that for a time you will be spending at least eighty hours in office for the month, until your probation is up. Look over all the details and get back to me next week.” “Of course.” Taking the folder, she stares at it before standing. “Thank you, Mr. Garcia.” “Of course, Ms. Antonelli.”

—

“Andrea!” She calls, seeing him looking around. His head turns to look at her, a large grin taking over his face. “Sorella!” He calls, jogging over to her. “You made it.” She rolls her eyes, pushing him away when he tries to give her a hug. “I told you two weeks ago I’d make it to Imola. It’s not my fault, you don’t listen.” She touches her ears before giving him a quick hug. “How are you feeling?” “Good.” She hums, following him as he leads her to what she assumes is Prema’s space for this race.

The good was false that was more than clear to see, if she wasn’t his sister, she’d know just by looking at the F2 races so far. Round four with no podiums? Or pole position. Her brother was surely smarting. She wondered if it had hit him yet that he wasn’t the most talented driver in this series yet.

Entering the Prema garage she smiles when Rene immediately greets her.

“How are you?” “I’m good. Very good. How are you? How is Angelina?” “I am good, I’m sure you saw the Indycar news.” She nods, watching as Andrea starts talking to either a mechanic or an engineer. “I did. It sounds amazing.” “Very amazing. And Angelina, well,” He pauses, turning his head and calling her over.

“Oh, Y/N.” “Angelina.” She greets back, melting into the hug the older woman gives. “How are you doing?” “I’m doing good. And you are well?” “Of course, it is the season.” She smiles at her, knowing all too well how much everyone loved the motorsport season.

“Kimi!” Angelina calls and she has to stop herself from flinching at the use of his nickname. “You did not tell me that your sister was coming.” He shrugs, “She’s coming next race as well.” “You are coming to Monaco?” She shrugs, adjusting her purse. “It’s my last free time before my exams and Andrea asked when I was going to come.” Rene and Angelina share a look but before either can say anything, someone interrupts.

“Angelina, Dino and Antonio are wondering about the next shoot.” The older woman sighs, “And neither of them could get me themselves.” He shoots her a grin, and it’s the sight of his grin that makes her realize that this is Andrea’s teammate. “I volunteered.” Angelina shakes her head, muttering under her breath but leaves the small group.

“Ah, Ollie, this Y/N. Y/N, this is Ollie.” Rene introduces. She shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you.” “You as well. Are you new to the team?” “No.” She laughs, pulling her hand from his. “Just a guest for this race and next.” “Oh.” He looks at Rene questioningly, but the older man is already in conversation with other people. “I could give you a tour, if you’d like.” “You don’t need to do that.” He smiles, giving a small shrug with his shoulders. “I don’t mind.” “Don’t you have race prep?” She can see just behind him, Andrea talking to another two people, their heads all gathered around a tablet. “I finished mine already.” Her lips purse. “At least let me get you a coffee from Ferrari’s hospitality.” Her nose nearly wrinkles at the word coffee, but Ferrari… She wasn’t into motorsports by choice, but she was Italian. She knew the allure of Ferrari and more so now Charles Leclerc than the team itself better than anyone. “So, coffee?” He grins. She sighs but nods. “Just one though.” She doesn’t think she could stomach another one.

“You don’t like coffee do you?” He asks nearly twenty minutes later as she sips at the coffee he got her and she chooses not to think too hard about the money she tried to hand him that he refused. “No.” She laughs. “But you like Ferrari.” “I’m Italian, Ollie. I think I get kicked out of the country, especially this part if I don’t bleed rosso corsa.” “Yet your brother is a Mercedes junior.” She pauses, “My brother?” His eyebrows furrow. “I’m sorry, it’s just Kimi, he has a picture of you. I asked about it once, because I already knew what his girlfriend looked like.” “I didn’t know that.” She wondered when the picture was from. Not from this Christmas, that was for sure. Ollie stares at her for a few seconds, something dancing in his eyes before turning the conversation back around. “It is a bit funny isn’t it? An Italian choosing Mercedes, while an Englishman chooses Ferrari.” “A second Charles Leclerc in the making.” She muses, remembering an article that said it. He flushes red. “I wouldn’t say that.” She shrugs, “Then other people will for you.”

Her phone buzzing makes her look away and she rolls her eyes at the text from Andrea. “I have to go back, Andrea is looking for me. Thank you for the coffee.” He nods, standing with her. “No problem.” He then opens his mouth again, quickly closing it. She raises an eyebrow and he flushes a bit more. “Could I get your number?” “Ah.” She glances down at her phone, another text on the screen. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Why not?” She can think of a million reasons. “It’s just not a good idea.” She settles on. “What if I want it as a friend?” She sends him a look and he grins. “I could do friends.” She shakes her head, “I need to go. Thank you again.” “Anytime.”

—

“You're at a race.” “Padre.” She greets, watching the screens as the sprint race goes into its fifth lap. “Andrea asked me to come.” “You don’t like races.” Her lips thin. “No, I don’t. But he wanted to see me, I made time.” “Have you made time for the interview I want scheduled?” “No.” He starts to say her name and she shakes her head. “No, padre. I’m here for Andrea, to see him. Just like I will be for Monaco, that is it. I have no interest in working for you.” “For the family.” “Or that.” He sighs.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she winces at the way Andrea gets overtaken, can already imagine the way he’ll beat himself up over it if he doesn’t regain the position, especially with the way Ollie is in P2, no battle in sight, as he more than comfortably keeps the place.

An arm wraps around her shoulders and she easily goes into her fathers side. “I miss my little girl.” She bites back on the words that want to crawl from her throat. “Love you too.”

—

“So,” she startles at the sound of a voice and the owner of it grins. “You don’t like coffee.” “Hello, Ollie.” “Hi.” He greets back. “You don’t like coffee.” He repeats. “I don’t like coffee.” She can’t help but smile at the way he grins at her responding to him. “What about,” he pauses looking around, before leaning closer and lowering his voice. “Red bull?” “I’m listening.”

She has to stop herself from giggling as Ollie leads her through Ferrari’s garage. She really shouldn’t be here. And not just because she shouldn’t even be at the race.

Stopping in front of a door, she watches as Ollie knocks, sending her a grin as he does.

“Hello?” The voice is a little confused. “Ollie! Come in, come in.” And Ollie grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers as he pulls her into the room with him. “Hi Charles.” Her eyes widen at the name and she quickly schools her expression though neither are looking at her. “What are you doing here?” Ollie grins at the older man. “I wanted to introduce you to someone and raid your fridge.” Charles rolls his eyes. “At least you don’t ask permission anymore.”

The tease makes her stiffen, this was a lot more than she felt she should be seeing or hearing.

“No, I learned.” Ollie laughs and then he’s tugging her closer. “Charles, this is Y/N.” A bit of tension leaves her when he doesn’t say her last name. “Y/N, this is Charles.” “Bonjour.” She greets, keeping her free hand firmly by her side as she wiggles her fingers in Ollie’s hand, but he just brushes his thumb over her knuckles. Charles’ eyes brighten at the greeting. “Bonjour. Est-ce un accent italien que j'entends?” (“Hello. Is that an Italian accent I hear?”) “Oui. Je suis italienne et je vis actuellement en France.” (“Yes. I am Italian currently living in France.) His grin widens. “Oh, très bien. Votre français est bon.” (“Oh, very nice. Your French is good.”) She ducks her head. “Merci.” (“Thank you.”)

“I didn’t know you spoke French.” Ollie says. She gives him a look. It should make his smile falter a little, but it only grows. “An Italian living in France. A bit uncommon, no?” Charles asks, handing her then Ollie a Red Bull. Before grabbing one for himself. “I study there.” “What are you studying?” Ollie asks, “Ki,” he stops himself. “Andrea never said.” Her eyes narrow at the catch, wondering why exactly he did it. “Accounting. And I’m not surprised. If it’s not something racing related, my brother has no interest.” Charles laughs. “I think Lorenzo and you would get along well. Having siblings that live and breath racing while you don’t.” “Maybe.” “Are you close to getting your degree?” “I am actually. My final exams start Monday.” “And you came to the Monaco Grand Prix?” Charles’ eyes are wide. “Yes.” “My goodness.” He looks at Ollie, winking at him. “This one is a keeper.” “Oh,” she says, feeling blood rush to her cheeks and Ollie is turning pink. “We aren’t.” He shrugs, taking a drink of his red bull. “Maybe not yet.” His eyes then fall to their still intertwined fingers and she gives another tug to Ollie’s hand, expecting him now to let go, but he doesn’t. “No, not yet.”

—

“What race are you coming to next?” Her hand tingles at the sound of Ollie’s voice. “I’m not.” “What?” She turns to face him. “Andrea wanted me at the first race of the season, but I couldn’t make it, so I said I’d come to these two.” She doesn’t mention that the want of her coming was because he apparently missed her. She had her doubts about that, especially after this weekend. “You don’t think he’ll ask you to come again?” She looks around, seeing no one nearby, she sighs. “Even if he did, I wouldn’t come. I love my brother, but not on race weekends, not during the season. I’ve seen you more than him.” Ollie’s face that had looked shocked, turns to understanding. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.” She shrugs. “He’s busy.” Ollie looks like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t.

Instead he leans a bit closer, “so, could I get your number now?” She laughs, shaking her head. “No. Still not happening.” “Oh, c’mon. I won today. This is the one thing I want as the Monaco F2 feature race winner.” She shakes her head. “Maybe, if you actually wanted it as a friend. I’d say yes.” “And why can’t we be more than friends?” He’s closer now somehow and she has to swallow around the lump in her throat. “Ollie,” Her name spills from his lips in a gentle sigh as he leans ever closer. “We can’t.” She whispers, hand against his chest, holding him place. “Why? Give me one good reason why.”

He’s guiding her backwards, down the short hallway and into a room that’s thankfully empty, the door shutting behind him.

“One good reason.” “You’re Andrea’s teammate.” “For nine more weekends.” She lets out a shaky breath, watching as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I’m busy with school and work.” “You have final exams this week, which you’ll pass. And I’m busy with work as well.” “You're younger than me. I’m twenty-two, you just turned nineteen.” He shrugs, her eyes following the strong line of shoulders with the movement. “I’m an adult. And I like you.” “Ollie.” She breathes. He’s closer than ever before, their lips nearly brushing. “I’m still waiting.” Her eyes scan his face, his words full of confidence, his body too, but he’s flushed and his nervousness is easy to read. And she delivers the reason that has to make him see reason. Because she doesn’t know if he stays this close to her if she can stop herself from kissing him. “Your parents,” his throat bobs. “Would never approve.” He looks at her and she looks back, holding her breath, waiting for him to back away but he doesn’t, and god when does Ollie ever do things she expects. “They don’t need to.” He whispers and then he’s kissing her.

—

“What are you talking about?” “Andrea,” “No.” He stops her, shaking her head. “What do you mean, you are seeing Oliver?” He spits the name out. “Don’t, Andrea.” “NO!” His face is red and she’s reminded of the times when he wanted candy that she had and threw a fit over not getting it instead. “He is, he is,” he shakes his head. “I don’t even know what he is. He is my teammate, he works in motorsports, you hate motorsports.” She keeps quiet, watching as her brother processes the news. “He is younger than you, barely older than me. And you.” He shakes his head again. “Does padre know?” She scoffs, now shaking her head. “Does padre know? That’s all you care about isn’t it. If our father approves or not, if you knows what he thinks, because heaven forbid Kimi,” he flinches at the name. “You think for yourself.” “That is not.” “Don’t.” She cuts him off. “Yes, he knows. Don’t worry he disapproves as well. So, you don’t have to think for yourself again.”

She stares at her younger brother, knowing that this is her fault, but she can’t, she still doesn’t have it in her to deal with it, not today. “I will talk to you sometime, Andrea.”

—

“Your fans are lovely.” Ollie makes a humming sound, half asleep. She pauses her scrolling on twitter, unable to stop herself from liking the picture of Charles’ dog in his own personal little car. “Your fans. Very creative as well. They can’t call me a gold digger, but a fame seeker? Well, if the shoe fits.” “They what?” He sounds so much more awake, it makes her laugh. “It’s just hate, Ollie. I’m an old woman praying on the young. Apparently I’m like Piquet.” “Ew.” And she can picture his nose wrinkling. “You know you aren’t though right?” “An old woman?” She jokes. “A predator.” She softens, turning in his arms, so that they are chest to chest. “I know.” “I mean, really if anything I was.” “You were very insistent.” He flushes. “Only a little.” She nods, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Only a little.”

“I know we talked about it before, but are you okay with everything?” “Yes. I mean, it hurts that Andrea is still not okay with it but my father’s opinion has not mattered to me in a long time. And no matter what the media and fans were never going to give us peace, so I made my peace with that as well. Besides, your parents are okay with it.” “They love you.” “Our friends are understanding.” “They are.” “And you aren’t about to dedicate any more podiums to me.” He grins at her and dread starts to form in her stomach. “Ollie…” “About that last one.” “Ollie!”

@crashingwavesofeuphoria @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

[syntheticavenger]

On My Mama - Three

A special thank you to @mrsmischief209 @flordeamatista @negronispagliato for helping with language translation and @cocobutterqwueen for cheering me on with the plot!

Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x Female Reader

Tyler Rake x Female Reader

Andy Barber x Female Reader

Jax Teller x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, breeding kink (brief), jealousy, angst, mentions of divorce, co-parenting.

Summary | Being a single mom with a complicated relationship with your ex-husband makes for an interesting summer after a school event and an unexpected errand puts you front and center with some eligible contenders for your attention.

“Mommy, look! They have horsies!” Mia squeaks, pointing as Santiago holds her close so that she doesn’t tip over, mesmerized as a horse gallops by the big window. “Daddy, do you see the horsies?!”

“I do see them,” Santiago agrees, kissing the crown of her head affectionately. “We have to finish the tour, mini.”

Sister Catherine Francis stands next to you, the school administrator smiling at the sweet moment between father and daughter. Admittedly, the tour has been impressive. Beside the stables, there is an auditorium, a gym, a play area much larger than the one in her current school and the student to teacher ratio is much smaller than you thought.

“Mrs. Garcia, I know you have some reservations about our school as Mr. Garcia told us,” Sister Catherine begins, her Irish accent strong. “I assure you, Mia will have the very best of care here at St. Mary’s. The curriculum here is outstanding and our students go on to Ivy League universities and abroad.”

“Curriculum,” you repeat, seeing her nod, anticipating your response with a tight-lipped smile. You’ve been peppering her with questions the entire tour, ever since she had mentioned she was pleased that Santiago had reached out weeks prior, calling you by your former last name, ignoring that you had mentioned that you were divorced.

Your cell phone vibrates in your purse, mumbling an excuse to step away for a moment as Sister Catherine approaches Santiago and Mia to discuss the details of the stables, asking Mia if she would like to know the names of all the horses.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sorry if I caught you at a bad time,” Tyler apologizes, your mood improving at the sound of his voice.

You’re grateful for the reprieve, even more so that he’s called you directly.

Santiago looks over his shoulder as you turn around, your back to him. He’s far away enough that you hope he can’t hear you.

“No, it’s fine, I’m just out with Mia,” you answer. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m good.”

After a pause, Tyler laughs, the sound making you smile.

“Listen, I’m being a total idiot about this and I’m sorry. How would you feel if I picked the place to go to dinner? I promise you’ll have a good time.”

“I think that would be fine. Should I be worried?” you ask.

“No? I mean, I hope not. How does Saturday sound? Seven?”

“Seven works,” you agree, taking two steps away from Sister Catherine. “Enough time to find a sitter.”

“Seven it is. We can meet there if that works?”

“Sure. I’ll see you at seven.”

“Perfect. It’s a date. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

When you hang up, you notice that Santiago is closer now, Mia still in his arms as he looks through his phone for a moment. Sister Catherine clears her throat at the interruption, making you look up from your phone.

“Did you have questions regarding any of our curricula?”

You hope that doesn’t mean to be pushy, but it sounds that way, the nun clasping her hands in front of her, waiting for your answer.

 “Mia is five. She’s in kindergarten and doing well,” you counter, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice. “College is a few years away.”

“She’s a very intelligent young lady. We would nurture her intuitive nature, develop her into a strong young woman who would be readily accepted at any university of her choosing. You must start now, in her formidable years, to make sure she is strong.”

“She’s already strong.”

Mia runs over to you when her father puts her down, clinging to your legs as she bends her head back, looking into your eyes.

“I like it, Mommy!” Mia announces.

“You like what, sweetheart?” you ask carefully, Mia raising up her arms for you to pick her up.

She settles into your arms, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

“I like the horsies.”

“They’re nice, aren’t they?” you ask, her head bumping against your cheek as she nods quickly.

“I want one, Mommy. Can I have one?”

“Horses are expensive, baby,” you tell her gently, Santiago standing close by to smooth down her hair.

“We can talk about it over lunch, hmm? How does that sound?” he asks, giving you a cool smile before he turns to the nun. “Sister Catherine, I cannot tell you how much we appreciate the hospitality and the graciousness you’ve shown me and my family.”

“It is my pleasure, Mr. Garcia.”

“We haven’t made a decision,” Santiago says carefully, looking in your direction as you hold Mia close. “But I’m sure either way, we’ll be in touch.”

“Of course. It was nice meeting you, Mia,” Sister Catherine says, Mia leaning over you to shake her hand.

“Bye!” Mia chirps as you force a smile, knowing that this isn’t the right time to say any of the thoughts that have filled your head.

“Thank you,” you reply to her, the nun nodding with a gracious expression.

“Of course, Mrs. Garcia.”

🌙

Mia chews on a piece of chicken, cut up expertly by her father as she colors on the paper placemat. 

Santiago leans back in his chair, sipping his glass of wine, silent as he glances from his daughter to you. As much as your irritation has grown, you know better than to argue in front of Mia. You’re also aware of the stare that he’s giving you, like he has more to say than he is letting on.

“I’m sorry for the surprise,” Santiago murmurs, placing his glass back down on the table. “I should have told you.”

“Yes, you should have,” you answer back quietly, Mia still coloring, playing you no mind. “I know you want what is best for our daughter, but I wish you would understand that this would be a big change for her.”

“Of course it would. No more cafeteria food, no overcrowded classrooms, more attention on our precious daughter. I fail to see the flaws in St. Mary’s.”

“She knows no one there. She’s made friends, she has her own little social calendar now. She’s happy.”

“I’m happy,” Mia recites with a giggle, drawing a squiggly line in purple crayon.

“She’s five,” Santiago recites back to you. “Young enough to make new friends, build new relationships and settle into a new school.”

The server interrupts with the next course, lingering a little longer to ask Santiago if he would like something else, her arm draped over the chair. You pay her no mind, knowing that he won’t let this particular subject go, no matter what distraction there may be in his way.

“I think we’re fine for now, thank you,” he declares with an air of annoyance through a tight flash of teeth.

“I’ll be nearby if you need anything,” she says, moving away from him.

Still within earshot, Santiago’s eyes level with yours, looking down at his plate and then to Mia, who has switched to a green crayon, drawing what looks like two boxes on top of each other.

“A frog,” Mia announces to her parents, coloring diligently.

Before you have a chance to argue, his gaze settles on the server who is still close by, turning back to you with a disapproving stare before he finally speaks.

“Mira a Mia, nos tiene a nosotros igual con el mundo a su alcance.”

He raises an eyebrow after, his words settling as you frown, Mia’s head snapping up at attention.

“¿Que... mundo?” she asks her father, looking at him suspiciously, your eyes rolling as Santiago smirks, lifting her out of her chair and onto his lap.

“I forgot how smart you are, mini,” Santiago murmurs against her, moving his wine glass away from her as she reaches for it. “That’s not juice. Let’s get you your own drink.”

The nickname isn’t lost on you, Mia leaning against her father, rubbing her eyes. Mini, meaning a mini version of you, something he’s called her since before she could talk.

When the server finally moves away, Mia slips off of her father’s lap, running to you as she moves from side to side.

“I gotta potty,” she announces loudly, your finger going to your lips to remind her to lower her voice as she takes off running.

Independent as you know her to be, you also know she’s fast, following behind her. You know she has no idea where she’s going, mumbling out an apology to the tables that she passes, narrowly missing a server with a tray over their head.

She stops in her tracks, pointing as you reach her, following her direction.

“It’s Abel!”

True to her word, Abel is sitting across a table in a booth with a well-dressed woman, who you assume is Abel’s mother. She doesn’t fit the description of Abel’s mother, someone whose name Melanie has dragged through the proverbial mud. This woman, in her black pantsuit and perfectly coiffed hair doesn’t look like she would be an absent mother, especially the way she talks to him.

It is Melanie after all, you think, herding Mia toward the restroom. She’s not exactly known for liking many people, let alone someone who is that close to Jax.

“I wanna say hi,” Mia protests, looking over her shoulder before the door closes. “Mommy, let’s say hi to Abel.”

“After you go to the restroom, I promise we will go say hello to Abel and after you wash your hands.”

“And we sing the ABCs!” Mia reminds you, running into a stall and locking it.

It feels silly to think about Jax, especially with how the day has played out. Santiago’s surprise tour to St. Mary’s and your upcoming date with Tyler. Your plate is full and you haven’t even told Santiago about your date.

If you even want to. You don’t even want to know how many dates he’s been on. Not that he’ll ever tell you and you’ve never been bold enough to ask. A flicker of irritation moves through you when you remember Abel’s sweet little face, dejected after being dropped off without a gift. You know that it didn’t matter that he didn’t have a gift but children mimic their parents and their societal standards.

“I’m done!” Mia says, after stopping the multiple flushes once you remind her to not play in the bathroom. 

Dutifully she recites her alphabet when she washes her hands, the suds flying around the sink while you prepare the paper towels for her to dry her hands like a servant.

“Can we say hi now?”

“Yes,” you agree, Mia bolting out the door.

You stop in your tracks when Mia greets Jax loudly, seeing him sit across from the well-dressed woman. He’s traded his well-worn kutte for a button down shirt and black slacks, his hair slicked back, unaware that you’re close by when he scans the restaurant for any sign of you.

“Mommy!” Mia says, waving to you. “She’s right there.”

You tug your dress down when you walk toward them, Abel giving you a shy smile, Jax giving you a slow smile.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Jax says with a smile. “Mother daughter lunch date?”

“You could say that,” you respond, Mia eyeing the paper placemat that Abel is working on.

“You have to color the boxes,” Mia orders, your arm going around her to remind her of her manners gently.

“Abel can color them later,” you tell her softly, Mia shrugging as Abel starts to color in the boxes.

The woman smiles and you feel a sense of intruding on their time, quickly giving them a nod before slowly turning Mia back toward the direction of where you are sitting.

It’s family time, you predict, Jax giving you a curious look as you make a move to give them some space.

“Leaving so soon?”

“I wouldn’t want to impede on your family time,” you tell him. “Good to see you and Abel and nice to meet you…”

“Nice to meet you too,” the woman says with a grin, Jax raising an eyebrow before you march Mia back to the table.

🌙

“Busy schedule?” Santiago asks, seeing you fire off a text to one of the moms in the group text over a snack rotation schedule mix up. The drive back as been quiet thus far, ever since you’d gone back to the table and he had already paid, holding Mia’s tiny purse that she had insisted on taking everywhere.

“Just ironing out some details.”

Mia is fast asleep in the backseat, Santiago licking his lower lip in thought.

“If you need a sitter on Saturday, I’m sure I can have my mother watch Mia.”

“Are my conversations not private anymore?” you question, seeing a smirk play at his mouth.

“Big hallway,” he responds. “Your voice carries. And you didn’t answer my question. Do you want my mother to watch Mia?”

“I’d prefer to think about my options and for you to not eavesdrop on my conversations.”

“I told you. Your voice carries.”

You shift in your seat. It’s uncomfortable to know that he heard what you were saying, even more unnerving is that you feel guilty.

“Or you were listening. I don’t ask you about your personal life.”

“No,” he agrees with a shake of his head. “I’d answer anything you’d want to know. You know that.”

You sit in silence for a moment, your street coming into view.

“You want to date, I say go for it,” Santiago continues. “Would it make me a little jealous to know you’re scouting out potential men to find a partner? I’m human, aren’t I? I’d be lying if I told you I don’t think about how I should have put another baby in you. Those sounds you make for me, conejita… I crave them and no one can ever recreate it, nor have they come close.”

You try to move when he places his hand on your bare thigh, his hand warm as he slides it up toward your dress.

“So you’ve tried,” you shoot back, hating that you can already feel yourself reacting to him.

“Does it matter?”

“When you’re trying to surprise me with a quick decision on a private school that I was not given a chance to even think about? No,” you answer, placing your hand on his. “I’m still upset with you.”

“I didn’t say she had to go. It needs to be a decision from the both of us. I’m asking you to keep an open mind.”

“I will once I can keep a clear mind.”

Santiago smiles, a text popping up on his screen. Another woman, your eyes looking at the notification.

“Guess your calendar is packed too,” you shoot back, getting out of the car when he parks. “Not making a decision on the school yet. But we aren’t sleeping together.”

Santiago laughs, shaking his head in disbelief when he gets out the car to take Mia out of her seat.

“My flight leaves in two hours so I’ll put her to bed and you can take your time with your decision,” he informs you.

🌙

Settling Mia into her bed, he heads downstairs, finding no sign of you. Your phone is on the counter, a notification popping up as he hovers over it.

It’s a single name, one that he raises an eyebrow at.

Jax.

Even more curious is what he reads as he hears you come back down the stairs.

Not my wife. She’s my lawyer. 

🌙

It’s daunting, fingers wrapped around the wood, breathing harder than you ever thought. You’re aware that your last movement was less than graceful, afraid to step over the line, your hips moving to try to get into the right position.

“Do you want some help?” Tyler asks, the burr of his voice sending a tingle down your spine.

“Yes, please,” you answer, his warm fingers on your elbow, flexing your arm back and forth slowly. 

The sweet smell of sawdust gives you the urge to sneeze, the loud clink of beer glasses when someone hits a target and the raucous roar when someone doesn’t hit their mark gives you a sense of ease. There’s no need for perfection or expertise.

He’d met you at the door, your shyness on display when he held the door open for you. It wasn’t your first choice for a date, but your only comparison was the upscale restaurants that Santiago would take you to. Either way, you’re excited to try something new, the ax hard to throw but the adrenaline rush when you throw it is entertaining.

“It’s a flick of the wrist,” he instructs, standing behind you, his body a solid wall of muscle when you take a step back accidentally, trying to make sure you don’t disqualify yourself.

“It’s a quick throw but you’ve got to move with purpose, focus on where you want it to go. Ready?”

When you throw it, the ax sails through the air, hitting the top of the target. Not that it matters, you finally got it to stick, celebrating that you were able to hit something, rather than have it bounce off the wall.

As a first date, you’re still glancing at your phone as Laurie sends you pictures of Mia, feeling guilty for all of five seconds when you realize that he’s probably done the same. You feel oddly comfortable in a flannel shirt and jeans and a pair of sneakers for a first date. You’d gone through your closet while Laurie had come over to watch Mia, with it being Andy’s week with Jacob and she was more than happy to watch her as Santiago’s mother had last minute plans.

As a rule, you don’t engage with any questions she has, especially since she’s always hinted that you had made a mistake with your decision to separate and then divorce.

It was a good thing they were your decisions.

Your decision now is to try to not focus on how handsome Tyler looks when he focuses on the target, hitting the target each time. You’re aware of his politeness, the way he doesn’t get into the personal side of your history with your ex, keeping it light with Mia and Hunter and to your interests.

For the first time in a long time, you talk about yourself and your hopes and dreams.

And Tyler listens.

You don’t want to compare, nor do you want to put either of them on a pedestal but there’s something about the way he lets what you say sink in, nodding slowly and taking the social cue of when he can share his own thoughts and ideas. There is no fighting for dominance in a conversation, something that you aren’t used to.

“What?” he asks you after taking a sip of his beer.

“Nothing,” you answer quickly, realizing that you’ve been staring at his tattooed arms and how he smiles.

It isn’t the time to admit that you’ve been appreciating his physical form as well as feeling seen and heard.

“Ax throwing is harder than I thought,” you admit, stretching out your fingers.

“Does it hurt?” Tyler asks, reaching out his hand to you, placing your hand in his. “Sometimes you can get a splinter.”

He examines your hand, his fingers running along your fingers and palm, closing your hand into a fist and then unraveling it to hook your fingers over his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. At the contact, your face heats up at how gentle he is with you.

“Not a scratch or splinter from what I can see,” he says with a nod, looking into your eyes. “I’d say that’s a win.”

-

“I thought about leaving. Taking Hunter with me, moving to a new city and just starting over,” Tyler tells you while you walk along the pier. “It made sense to me, you know? Clean slate, we didn’t have to look back. Then he entered kindergarten and I watched him come out of his shell that I thought he would never break out of and I knew that I couldn’t do that to him.”

“What about private school?” you ask, seeing him shrug off his jacket as he slows his steps, placing it over your shoulders. You’re instantly warm, smelling the faint cologne left on his jacket. “Thank you.”

“I thought about it,” he replies, continuing to walk beside you. “I moved a lot as a kid, went to few private schools here and there but I never like I fit in. Didn’t think Hunter would either. Why do you ask?”

“I thought about St. Mary’s but…” you trail off, focusing on the waves that crash against the shore in the moonlight. “I think she’d miss her friends.”

“They’d miss her.”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I want to make sure she’s well adjusted. I want to make sure that she’s happy and healthy. She’s made so many friends and I hope that I make the right decision for her.”

“Have you ever felt like you haven’t?”

Shaking your head, he nods in agreement.

“Then you’re making the right decision.”

“I feel like I could be better.”

“Oh?” he questions. “How so?”

“There’s always room for improvement.”

“Even now?”

His curious expression makes you stop, looking into his blue eyes for a moment. There’s a vulnerability there, a softness that sends a slight flutter to your stomach.

“No,” you answer. “I can’t think of any improvements on tonight.”

“I disagree,” Tyler responds, pulling his jacket that is around your shoulders closer to keep you warm, pulling you toward him slowly. “I can think of something.”

He lowers his head to kiss you and you meet him halfway, his lips on yours, soft and warm. You don’t want it to end, even if you know at any time you’ll both pull away. 

His cell phone vibrates loudly in the pocket, your soft groan barely audible when you break the kiss.

“Did you want to get that?” you whisper, Tyler kissing you again before you can ask him again.

“It’s the sitter. I think I owe her some overtime.”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry,” you apologize, Tyler holding you close by holding onto his jacket.

“Worth it.”

🌙

“You kissed him?” Laurie whispers, eyes wide as she perches on the couch. “Shut up, you did not.”

“I did,” you confess, covering your face. “On the first date? Is that even allowed?”

“Of course it is! I fucked my first college boyfriend on the first date. This is tame. Tongue or no tongue.”

“Laurie!” you hiss, breaking out into a fit of laughter. “This is absurd. I can’t believe I’m talking about this. It was one date.”

“One date where you went ax throwing with a giant. Not just any giant, by the way. Tyler Rake. The man is an enigma. I can’t tell if he hates the PTA or genuinely enjoys it.”

“I didn’t ask,” you say dryly, Laurie finishing the last of her wine. Your phone vibrates next to you, a message popping up that you check quickly before she notices.

Happy you made it home safe. Thank you for a great night.

“So… was he a good kisser?” Laurie questions.

“Do you ask this of everyone?”

“No,” Laurie replies honestly. “I’m asking because you’re my friend and I don’t have many of those because most people annoy me. You went on a date. That’s a start. How do you feel?”

“Weird.”

You don’t know how to explain it. It feels like you’re keeping a secret, even if it isn’t one. You’re a single woman, even if you don’t feel like it sometimes. Santiago is gone, jetted off to Spain for a trip. Probably with one of his companions, something you won’t ever ask about, even if he says he’s an open book.

It’s complicated in a way that it doesn’t need to be and you know it.

Laurie is right. This is a start of something. Maybe not anything that you know but enough to make you begin thinking that you deserve to be selfish for a moment, to think about what you want.

Whatever that may be.

“It’s okay to play the field you know,” Laurie says, getting up from her seat, picking up her wine glass to take to the sink. “It’s not a bad thing to make sure your bases are loaded.”

-

When you check on Mia, she’s fast asleep, buried under the covers with her favorite teddy bear at her side. Next week will be Santiago’s week and the pangs of longing already begin, even though she’s right next to you when you sit carefully on her bed.

Two more weeks of school and then she’s done for the summer, your baby girl going full speed ahead into the first grade once the summer is over, something you aren’t ready to comprehend, let alone even want to think about.

“I’m proud of you,” you whisper, smoothing back her hair as she snuggles against her pillow. “I love you.”

Getting up to leave her room, you scroll through your missed messages, noticing one from an unknown number.

BBQ next Saturday. Adults only – Alcohol is provided. See you there?

You’ve seen the number before, scrolling through your phone to find a message where the number pops up again from a message confirming attendance at a school function.

Andy Barber.

[velvetcloxds]

THE PRICE OF FREEDOM | S.R

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

word count: 0.8k

warnings: toxic family, parental role reversal, guilt

summary: spencer and the team come over to your new place to celebrate you finally leaving your toxic childhood home

a/n: started off strong , became too real, rushed the ending

It wasn’t much of an achievement for most, moving out of the house you grew up in, doing so in your mid-twenties even less so. But Spencer thought it the biggest achievement, the bravest step you’d ever taken, and you were touched by his excitement. It was a small little apartment, open floor space, everything flowing into one and with your boxes still scattered everywhere there was hardly room for everyone- but Spencer bought a cake. Rossi said he was bringing pasta and you just barely heard Emily promise to bring champagne, so you couldn’t talk anyone out of making a fuss.

It was a confusing set of emotions, you’d been dreaming of leaving for years, since your second year at university, but guilt always stopped you in your tracks. You didn’t want to leave without her, leave her in it, feel responsible for her, like getting a good job and finding a good place should be to save her and not yourself, not just yourself. And you waited, begged, bargained, fought with all your might to have her see things for what they were and leave, you would’ve done anything to make it happen for her- but despite it all, despite years of pain, she wasn’t ready to escape and as much as you wanted to make her ready, you couldn’t. You were, you didn’t have it in you to stay even if you wanted to for her, you had to get out, for you.

“Do you think there’s enough candles?” Spencer was fiddling about in the living room area, though it wasn’t truly ready to be lived in yet, furniture wasn’t in the cards for a while so of course he’d taken to constructing some with all your boxes.

“I think it’s plenty,” you smiled and it felt more sincere than it looked, only barely hiding the embarrassment from not having working lights set up yet. “More and we might set the place on fire before I unpack,” you pulled some paper plates and cups from the grocery bag, hoping no one would mind as much as you did.

You knew they wouldn’t, knew they wouldn’t mind sitting on dented boxes, eating cold pasta, and drinking fancy alcohol out of party cups. If anything it just felt like a testament to your fate, to how rash your decision was, how unprepared you were for whatever was to come. It reminded you that you had no idea how to exist outside of your terror, if you weren’t protecting your mother, what were you doing? Throwing lackluster dinner parties while she was still ever miserable with a horrid man and no escape. It made you feel all the more guilty, and all the more selfish. You couldn’t comprehend the excitement you were expected to be expressing. With all your might you had to convince yourself not to run right back to that blush pink bedroom stained at every inch with dried tears and echoed with screams of bitterness.

You had to convince yourself once again that you were free and you deserved to be as much, you didn’t choose to be born into that madness, you had every right to run away from it. She chose to stay, countless times, no matter how many scary nights or pleating fits of fear, she chose to stay.

“I think we can paint the walls if you’d like, Morgan would help me, though I wouldn’t ask Garcia because she might end up choosing a bright green or yellow,” you met his breathy scoff with a lazy hum, stilled in the middle of counting out the right amount of bamboo forks, staring at the only corner you’d managed to unpack- the photo frames. Spencer followed your gaze, and landed on a large frame with a colourful picture of you and your mom at the theatre, only a few months ago, her smile was only ever that big when you were away from home, from him. You dropped the lightweight utensils with a sigh, everything felt wrong, you felt wrong. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” he knew the answer but didn’t know how to approach the situation without asking anyway. You hummed, bit back a fake smile that would only turn to a frown even if you tried to stop it, and folded your arms around yourself to ground you.

How a space so small, so full, could feel so void, lonely, you weren't sure. Your mom had been dying for years, not physically, but he’d been hacking away at her soul since you could remember- left a shell of her, a ghost, you’d mourn her daily, he made sure of it. Now the mourning was different, the grief, leaving your best friend, your shadow felt like you’d buried her alive and left her screaming. Horrendous thing, the juxtaposition of it all, you couldn’t spend another second in that house, can’t imagine taking another breath without her at your side. You hoped she’d follow, it’s why you borrowed the queen size mattress and not the single from Hotch, space for her, somewhere to escape to when she was ready, but who’d protect her while she wasn’t?

“I was thinking,” careful hands slid over your elbows, loving smile met your gaze. “With your power still out, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone in the dark. Maybe I can stay over?” Spencer was never so forward, if he were he’d present you with ample facts to support his case first, not such a simple little tale of charm.

“Please,” you’d not usually accept so easily, but you were being profiled, you’d learn to know when you were and though not always intentional, Spencer tended not to notice how unsubtle he was with it. You smiled, traded your own embrace for his, looked up at him with your chin planted on his chest. “How am I reading, Dr. Reid?”

“Not well,” he tutted, brows dipped with sympathy, eyes sparkling with genuine care as foreign as it comes. “Which is valid, every horrible and amazing feeling that you’re experiencing is completely valid.”

“I’m scared she’ll never forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to be forgiven for, you are not her keeper, she knows that, you love her but that’s still the truth,” he kissed your forehead, squeezed you a little tighter than before. “You know all of this, but I won’t stop reminding you.”

“Can we visit her?”

“As many times as you need to.”

You stood like that for too long before the room echoed with far too eager knocks, dinner was cold but delicious as only Rossi can achieve and when the cake came you were sat on the floor next to Spencer, smiling as Derek bargained for the biggest piece. Spencer’s hand was entangled with yours in his lap, head on his shoulder and for just a second you felt light, weightless- new.

“Are you still okay, sweetheart?” he whispered with a soft smile, hopeful and you nodded, instantly took the plate when JJ handed you the biggest piece of cake.

“I think so, Spence, I think it’s all going to be okay.”

Maybe it was delusion, maybe tomorrow you’d wake up drowning in dread and pack your few unpacked boxes to go back, maybe you’d stay and spend every second hating yourself for giving up on her, not saving her, maybe she’d finally leave and start over. Maybe you’d stay stuck in time, lingering between the first time he did it and the last, forever the little girl who grew up too soon because someone had to take responsibility for saving her. Maybe you had no purpose beyond that, maybe that’s what you were made for, to fix her and comfort her and stand up for her. Maybe you were the biggest of failures for thinking you could have more from life than that horror, that love ridden burden. Maybe peace only comes after and not during life, born into chaos, into hatred out of young love, maybe the idea of your freedom was as fleeting as his affinity for family. How can someone raised in darkness ever dare to look for light, let alone try and live in it? Maybe you were only ever meant to be nothing more and nothing less than a lesson about how broken people make broken children. Shackled by the knowledge that you never should’ve been, she’d left him sooner if you weren’t.

Imagine that, your whole life devoted to making up for being born, for making it impossible to leave until it was far too late. Hope and freedom, like love, is nothing but a golden cage.

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

How each BAU member found out

main masterlist

spencer reid x famous!reader Universe

warnings: none

Penelope

Penny obvi knew that they were talking

She was the one that gave Y/N Spencer's number

But although she was relentless in asking Spencer updates he would never give her any

So when she sees a picture of Y/N and what the media is calling her ‘mystery man’ who looks a lot like Spencer, that's when she demands answers

It was during a paperwork day and Penny was scrolling when she found an article on one of her favourite artists with a man that look remarkably like the BAU’s resident genius

So she hastily gets up and stomps out of her office to call for Spencer

When he comes to her office confused, not knowing what at all Garcia could want, he softly closes the door and turns back towards her stern face

“What did you-”

“How could you not tell me?!”

“Tell you what?”

“That apparently things went well with Y/N? And that the reason you stayed a few extra days in New York was to see her?!”

“Shhh… I don’t want the others to know, but yes.. Things are good.”

“So are you together?!”

“Um.. Yes, last week in New York we made things official.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thank you.”

“But, why do you not want the others to know? I know Derek will tease you, but that won’t last forever. And Emily and JJ will be happy for you too.”

“I know.. And it’s not about that, it’s just that- that I haven’t talked to Y/N yet if she’s okay with that. And she’s going through a lot right now and I don’t want to add anything unnecessary onto her plate.”

“Awww, Spencer! That’s too sweet. I promise not to say anything, but you know I can’t keep my mouth shut that long.”

JJ and Emily

And not keep her mouth shit long she did

Penelope had to tell someone, she was quite literally dying

But she couldn’t tell Derek, knowing there was no way he could keep his mouth shut about Spencer having a girlfriend

So she went to someone, or someone’s she knows could keep their mouth shut, JJ and Emily

Penny had told them on one of their girls nights

“Okay, I have to tell you guys something, but you can’t tell Detek, and you definitely can’t tell Spencer.”

Penelope had said coming back to the table with drinks

“Okay, what is it?”

“Our boy wonder has himself a girlfriend.”

“What?! When?”

“I want to know who and how?”

“This part you won’t believe. Y/N L/N.”

“No. Way.”

“Good job, Spencer.”

Derek

Derek, unlike the others, found out on accident

He had gotten a call from Hotch while he was at a bar, saying they had a case

And given he was close to Spencer's apartment he said he would pick up Spencer on his way

But when he knocked on Spencer’s door, a woman opened the door

A woman he recognized, having been on the case of catching her stalker, not to mention that her face was everywhere at the moment

The popstar answered the door dressed only in a pair of men’s boxers and what looked like one of many of Spencer’s sweater vests

“Derek Morgan.”

“Y/N.”

“Um, you’re looking for Spencer.”

“Yes I am.”

“I’ll go get him.”

Y/N softly shut the door after their awkward conversation and ran into Spencer’s bedroom, where he was laying on his bed, clad in a pair of pyjama pants and shirtless

“To answer your question about shrimp, the mantis shrimp can see more colours due to it’s-”

“My love, I normally would never cut off your rants, because I love you and I love your brain. But Derek is outside waiting for you.”

“What? Derek? Why is he here?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask. I just tried to get out of there fast because I’m only wearing this.”

“Derek saw you like this.”

“Hon, don’t be jealous.”

“Why were you answering the door dressed like that anyway?”

“I thought it was our breakfast.”

During their playful ‘fight’ Spencer got dressed and began walking towards the front door

Opening it and coming face to face with Derek, Y/N staying out of view in the kitchen

“Hey, pretty boy.”

“Hi. Um.. Wha-What are you doing here?”

“Other than clearly disturbing your romantic morning?.. Hotch called, we have a case and I was close by so I said I would pick you up. I thought you would be alone…”

“Oh, well I’ll get my go bag and we can leave. Come in.”

Spencer left the door open, walking down the hall to his room

Derek walked inside, not even having a chance to talk to Y/N, as Spencer was speedily reentering the room

He presses a quick kiss to Y/N lips, they mumble their goodbyes, before Spencer ashers himself and Derek out the door

“Bye, Y/N”

“Bye, Derek”

Y/N closes the door behind them

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, pretty boy.”

Rossi and Hotch

This takes place directly after Derek finds out

When Derek and Spencer arrive at the BAU

Spencer had let it slip in the car that Penny already knew

“Babygirl, you knew pretty boy had a girlfriend?”

“Yes, we all knew.”

It was Hotch that answered

“How am I last to know?”

“I don’t know, you’re a profiler you should have seen the signs.” Hotch said not looking up fron the file

“Yes, it was quite obvious.” Rossi adds

“Unbelievable.”

[eyelessfaces]

I'll be the silence ringing through and through and through

santiago garcia x reader

summary: if santi had it his way, he would be back home, with you, his mouth on your neck or something of that kind– it would have been possible, a few months ago. or in some alternate universe where he hadn’t fucked it all up. in short; santi wants you back.

warnings: mentions of a breakup but no reason is mentioned, alcohol consumption

tags: f!reader, exes to lovers, inevitable angst, fluff

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

happy new year!!!! randomly dropping a santi fic to start it right hhhh

fic title is from the song "heart to heart" by fiddlehead :)

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

If Santi had it his way, he would be back home, with you, his mouth on your neck or something of that kind–

It would have been possible, a few months ago.

Or in some alternate universe where he hadn’t fucked it all up, and where he would be holding you by the waist and kissing your cheek instead of having to watch you from afar, scrutinizing every littlest movement of yours while he was slumped in Frankie’s couch, like an hermit, feeling helpless, the neck of his beer being the only thing to kiss his lips tonight.

Maybe it was just the alcohol, maybe everything would seem way less dramatic tomorrow, save for the hangover headache – but no, scratch that, he wasn’t even drunk, just barely tipsy, so no, tomorrow won’t be better.

It must be the sight of you laughing at another man’s joke then, probably.

Was he hitting on you? Was he just a friend, like Benny, Will and Frankie were to you? 

He shouldn’t care; that wasn’t his business, that wasn’t his problem. Not anymore. Not that he had been the kind to carefully observe your every movement any time you talked to another man back when you were together. He had never really been of that kind, he trusted you.

Except here, right now, it was his problem. For some reason, it felt like it was, and even more than before, when you were still together.

Because now that you didn’t love him anymore, there was nothing to stop you from doing anything with that man.

Would that man fill the hole Santi had left in your heart? Would he make you happier than Santi ever had? 

Probably. He was probably a good man, would be a good boyfriend, wouldn’t fuck everything up. Would probably even marry you, and he’d be damn right to.

“He’s gay” Will snorts, plopping down next to Santi, giving a small pat to his chest. Santi’s gaze finally departs from you to turn to his right, where his friend has settled next to him.

“Good to know, but I‘m not interested in him,” Santi jokes, looking down at his half full beer. Half empty.

“That, I know.” Will cocks his head to the side, a more serious expression over his face as he brings his beer to his mouth. Santi’s gaze darts back to you and that man talking, a sick feeling filling his stomach as he sees you smile and shake your head frantically just the way you used to when he would come up with a shitty joke. “I’m like, eighty three percent sure she’s still in love with you.” Will speaks again, nudging Santi’s knee with his own.

“Seventeen percent of what?” Santi chuckles, more convinced that the rest of that percentage is the most important part.

“Seventeen percent of, you still fucked up, man.” Will says, patting Santi’s knee before getting up from the couch, already. “I’m not good at math dude, but all I can tell you is, it’s worth trying again!” he declares over the music, pointing at Santi before disappearing through the crowd. 

Easier said than done.

Santi sighs, bites the inside of his cheek as he runs a hand over his few days old stubble. 

He had never had any issue talking to people with ease, but for some reason, the idea of talking to you tonight seemed like the most intimidating thing he ever had to do in his entire life.

But god, did he want to look at you in the eyes again. To have you make that focused frown whenever you were attentively listening to someone. To see the way your lips curled up into a smile when you could pre shot a joke, and the way you still pretended not to know what the punchline was, and still ended up laughing.

Santi smiles to himself, finishes his beer, and when he looks up, you’re not in the crowd anymore. Then Benny joins him when he goes to the kitchen for a refill, and you happen to slip out of his mind for the time being. 

—

The air is crisp, compared to the smothering heat inside. It tickles your cheeks, the tip of your ears, it hits every exposed area of skin, the sweat over it now feeling ice cold.

It’s all you needed and wanted, so you shouldn’t complain.

You walk back and forth along Frankie’s porch, the overwhelming feeling of the slight tipsiness and the fast beating of your heart simmering down, and you lean against the wall, taking a deep breath. 

You turn at the sound of the door opening beside you, the loud, previously muffled sound of the music now clear, ending up face to face with the one person you did your best to not go talk to all night long.

“Shit, sorry. I’ll go” Santi apologizes, still firmly holding the doorknob, starting to go back inside.

“No, no, it’s alright” you say, inviting him to stay with you. “I didn’t privatize the porch” you joke, giving him an awkward smile.

He chuckles as he tentatively steps outside, closing the door behind him, leaning his back against the wall beside you. Neither of you say a single word for a while, then he looks over at you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. “I assumed you wouldn’t wanna see me.” he finally declares, making you scoff and shrug.

“I actually don’t mind,” you say, looking over at him. He’s now looking ahead, a small pinched smile over his lips. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip before looking back at you.

“I feel like an idiot.”

“Fair enough, you are one.” you immediately sigh, looking away. His gaze is too heavy. “I loved you.” the knot inside your throat tightens only after you pronounce the words, thankfully.

He swallows hard, a shiver running down his spine. It’s not the cold air’s doing. He stares deeply at you, watching you doing your best not to look at him.

“I know.” 

The atmosphere hangs heavily as the awkwardness takes over. The silence lingers, punctuated only by the sounds of the night around you. 

He pushes himself away from the wall, taking a step closer and turning to look at you, forcing the both of you to truly establish eye contact for the first time tonight.

"I fucked up, I know," he admits, his voice low and filled with remorse. "But I never meant to hurt you." he shakes his head. “Ever.”

You blink, your gaze tearing from his. "You did anyway," you reply, your tone tinged with a mixture of bitterness and sadness. The memories of the pain he caused are still fresh, wounds not fully healed. 

He runs a hand over his stubble, a nervous habit you remember all too well. "I know I can't change anything that I did, but I want you to know that I'm sorry."

Your eyes meet his own again, searching for sincerity. "It doesn't fix everything," you say, your guard still up. 

He nods understandingly. "I just needed to tell you, and to let you know I haven't stopped thinking about you."

The vulnerability in his gaze begins to chip away at your defenses. Despite the hurt, a part of you softens. "Santi–”

He cuts you off– "I've been thinking, and you know I don’t do it often” he jokes, scoffing. “And I realized how much I lost when I let you go." 

A wave of internal conflict washes over you. Your past relationship is a heavy burden you’re carrying, and you’re not sure you should grant him your forgiveness, yet there's a glimmer of something in his eyes that translates his genuine desire for redemption, and there’s some part of you that craves everything you had with him.

“Please,” he starts, his gaze chasing yours as he softly holds onto your wrist. “Please give me a second chance”

His plea hangs in the air, and you can feel the sincerity in his touch. The warmth of his hand on your wrist is a rough contrast to the chill in the night air. You sigh, and look away, torn between the pain of the past and the possibility of a different future. The silence stretches painfully, and you can hear the faint sounds of the night around you – a distant car passing by, the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

A shiver shakes through you, the brown of his eyes seeming deeper than usual, softer as he silently begs for you to say something.

“Second and last chance” you finally declare, refusing to give up on everything you’ve done to try to get over him, yet indulging in everything you’ve ever wanted since you’ve been apart. 

He nods silently, his hand leaving your wrist to settle at the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Okay. Alright. I won’t need another one” he promises confidently, the frown over his face eventually softening. You smile as his thumb gently rubs over your now cold skin.

“Alright, but you gotta kiss me for it to take effect” you tease as you break the tense atmosphere, readjusting your position onto your feet and placing your hands at either side of his neck. His skin is warm, and you feel his muscles contract under your hands when he laughs.

“Good thing I’ve been wanting to do it all night long” he smirks before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours, smiling as you sigh into the kiss. This is it; you feel complete again. 

He tastes of booze, and his light stubble slightly stinging when he moves are surprisingly pleasant. Your hand shifts to rest at the back of his neck, feeling his scar here, his own hands pulling you closer at the waist where he squeezes lightly when you run your other hand through his short hair.

You pull away only once it becomes necessary, the lack of oxygen making you all giddy though you’re not sure it’s just it. Santi is still holding you close as he presses his warm lips over your forehead, laughing when a shiver runs through your spine and makes you jolt. 

“Alright” he declares as he strips himself of his jacket, pulling it over your shoulders.

“You already pulled this trick on our first date” you scoff, looking over at him. A sly smirk grows over his face as you adjust the jacket over your shoulders.

“...And it worked, didn’t it?”

—

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

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[13as07]

Motherhood #1

(Kakashi Hatake)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Garajiru]

Requested by: Myself

Keys:

None

[Idea inspired by Criminal Minds - Garcia and Derek; Season 8, Episode 11]

Word Count: 3,979

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

None

———————————————————————

My whole body aches as I walk across the grassy field of the Third Training Ground. I'll never understand why Kakashi insists on training so far away from the main parts of the village. Well... I do understand. Despite how he comes off, he is a very sentimental person.

Pain sizzles across my rib cages, a side effect from littered stitches across my skin. I'm never going to hear the end of it when Kakashi finds out.

I should wait until he's done training with his students. I know he's a personal guy and I get it, especially with our line of work, but I want to see him. The burning need for him has been clawing at my heart for the past week. That burning only grew once the stab wounds registered in my head, and somehow became even heavier as needles were being threaded through me to close my wounds. He's going to be pissy or at least off his game when I find him, but that's okay. I know he'll smooth himself out.

As if the universe wants to apologize, a mix of 'why's', groans, and 'Sensei!'s fill the meadow. I can feel a smile perk up at the sounds.

I've heard a lot about my husband's little genins; Sasuke the Uchiha boy who shows great potential if he could get over his attitude, Naruto the chakra-packed spaz-ball who dreams of being Hokage, and Sakara the kunoichi with impressive chakra control who's just a little too distracted by Sasuke.

My smile only grows as the big blob of my husband and his three little blobs fall into my sight. The yellow and orange blob - I think that one is Naruto - is bobbing up and down. What a cute little jumping bean; well jumping blob.

Despite the burning across my sides, I hurry up my pace to get to Kakashi faster.

Once I can make out the details of my dotting husband, the burning in my heart starts cooling off. God, I miss him so much when we're apart. The seemingly unreachable retirement in our future sounds so good right now.

"Calm down, guys. It's just a progress exercise," Kashi's voice rings out, paired with the soft clinking of the bells wrapped around his belt loop. Before I left he mentioned redoing the bell test with his genins to check how they've improved. I guess today is the day.

"Oh, come on Kakashi-Sensei! Do you have to? We all know I'm already the best, do you really have to double-check it?" Blondie whines as he messes with his headband. That is definitely the spaz-ball.

"Being less sucky than Sakura doesn't make you the best," the raven-haired boy mumbles, arms crossed over his chest as he glares at Naruto.

Sasuke's eyes catch me for a second before he glances at his Sensei for guidance. Said Sensei hasn't caught wind of me yet, curtsy of his back being turned towards me with his students facing the both of us.

Sakura's face sinks at her crush's words before a closed-eyes smile crosses her face. "I think it'll be fun to do the bell exercise again, Sensei!" When her eyes snap open, they catch on me too, just like the Uchiha did a second ago. Unlike the boy though, her face scrunches up as she stays focused on me. "Sensei-"

I jump forward, arms wrapping around my husband. I immediately regret it when my stitches come into rough contact with Kakashi's vest. A pain-filled whine slips out as I bury my head between his shoulder blades. "That hurt," I whine again, softly digging my fingertips into his stomach.

"Then maybe don't do that," Kash teases, his smile slipping through his words.

My head lifts before falling back down, softly headbutting his back. "Don't be mean."

A soft chuckle fills the air, spilling out from my husband. The sound fills me with warm, the good love-filled kind instead of the longing kind of heat. "My little crybaby," he mumbles, shifting in my hold so my head is against his chest instead of his back. "Why are you being such a crybaby?"

"I'm not being a crybaby," I bite back but it comes out as a pout instead of the strong 'don't fuck with me' attitude I was trying to have.

"Aww, now you're being pouty," he continues to tease as his hands slide under my shirt.

Despite his teasing tone, everything else about Kakashi is serious. His hands are soft and nimble as he rubs them over my skin, checking for new wounds from my mission. His eye repeatedly scanning me, looking for obvious wounds and any sign of real distress.

"I might have had a not-so-perfect mission," I mumble, glancing behind him at his students. They're all looking at each other in confusion, hushed whispers - and Naruto's failing attempt at being quiet - being passed between them.

     "What does that mean?" Kashi asks, his fingers light as he comes into contact with my wrappings.

     It's taken some practice, but I can see the small cracks in his calm composure. His eyebrows are ever so slightly pushed forward, jaw locked almost unnoticeably under his mask, eye slightly wider than normal, and a drop of worry hidden in his words. From an outsider, he'd look as calm as ever, but not to me. I can see the storm brewing under it.

     "I was stabbed a couple of times but it's not that big of the deal. No casualties and my squad came out less harmed than me, so over all a good mission."

     Another slip of composer; his fingers stiffing a bit as he dips them under the bandages. "I can't believe you were stabbed," he whispers, face inching closer to me so I can pick up on the soft volume.

     I feel bad about not being able to wait to see him. I know it's difficult for him to keep his composure when I'm hurt, and even more difficult when we're around people because he's worried his composure will slip.

     "I got stabbed in my vest," I mumble back, wrapping my hands slightly around his arms before I stand up a bit straighter. I use the extra height to nuzzle myself against his cheek. "It's just a couple of stitches, I'm okay."

     "Why don't they make better vests?" Kash mumbles to himself more than me, his focus on his hands as if he could see them through my shirt.

     His breath has picked up too, fingers not so light as they cling to my wrappings. My poor anxiety-filled husband is getting into his head way too much. "They're not stabproof. It's like when your watch gets wet and stops working. That's water resistant not waterproof. They need to make our vests knife-proof. They should-"

     "I... am... fine..." I breathe out, following each word with a kiss. First to his reviled eye, then to his cheek at the edge of his mask, and lastly, a light one against his masked lips.

     "I know but-"

     My hands dip further down his arms, tugging my shirt up gently so the edge of my bandages is exposed. "See? I'm fine?" I tease a bit, dipping my head behind his ear before pressing another soft kiss into him.

     When I fall back into place, Kakashi's eye is dancing over the edge of my wrap, fingers lightly dancing over my skin again. A barely visible pink pokes out from his mask. My partner might be a very composed man, but he's still a man. One that falls victim to the shaping of my waist, especially when it's empathized by a skirt or crop top; or bandages in this case.

     "It's just a couple of stitches," I repeat before dropping my hands back to my sides, my shirt following pursuit.

     "How... how, um..." Kakashi's flustered state is adorable, the pink getting deeper and his eye still locked in please even though his favorite sight is gone. "How long do you need to be taped up like this?"

     "I don't know. A couple of days maybe," I answer, letting my own eyes wander over him. I'm as pleased to look over Kashi's body as he is to look over mine; though his v-line is my favorite part.  A soft hum comes from him, his body going back to his actual calmness instead of his fake composure. "You relaxed now?" I tease, pulling away from his touch.

     "Ya, I'm relaxed now," he husks out, stepping forward in a slow attempt to chase me.

     "Sensei!" All three of his students call, pulling my husband back down to Earth.

     I think he missed me as much as I missed him. The thought makes me happy, tugging another small smirk to my face.

     "Students!" He calls, eye going wide as he looks at me. Perhaps Kakashi doesn't want me around his students because I'm too much of a distraction. Oh well, one day of distraction won't hurt. "Students," he repeats, turning away from me to face the children he's responsible for.

     "Sensei, who's the cute lady?" Naruto asks, his eyes wide as well as he looks over me.

     "Um..."

     "You can call me Mrs. Hatake!" I chirp out, sidestepping Kashi so his students can see me better.

     "She's not even that good-looking," the little emo boy says, rolling his eyes at Naruto's compliment.

     "And you're not as badass as you think you are," I respond, tone still chirpy as I smile at the Uchiha.

     "Maybe let's not insult Sensei's girlfriend," Sakura pipes in, sending a glare at her heartthrob.

     "Wife," Kakashi corrects, a small smile on his face. My heart jumps a bit at the word. I don't think I'll ever get used to him calling me his wife.

     "Wife?!" They all call out, surprise on their face as they look at me.

     "Wife," Kashi repeats, tugging his glove off his left hand before grabbing at mine. He holds up our hands, showing off our matching wedding bands to his students.

     The bands are basic but cute; black with blue lightening strips through them. Gai teases that Kakashi had them made this way to mimic his Chidori as a fail-proof claim to me. I don't mind the teasing, I find it adorable that Kashi wants people to know for certain that he's my husband. What better way to do that than marking me with his personal ninjutsu?

     "You... are married to someone like that?" His kunoichi asks, face scrunched up in disbelief.

     "Is that supposed to be an insult, Sakura?" Kash asks, his face still covered in a smile as he wiggles his glove back on.

     "No, you're just so..." she makes another face, causing a laugh to brew in my chest. "And she's so pretty."

     "You're pretty too, Sakura. I like the color of your hair," I answer, sending the kid a compliment back. Her face shifts to a smile instead of the previous face of disbelief. Good, I'm making a good impression on my husband's students.

     "You know Sakura's name?!" Naruto asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

     I hum a yes, turning my attention to him. "I know your name too, Naruto, and I know Mr Moody over there is Sasuke."

     Naruto - somehow - beams even more with happiness, and Sasuke's face scrunches in disapproval. "How do you know our names?" The ball of chakra asks, his in-place bouncing shifting to actual bouncing.

     "Because she's a jounin, duh. Do you ever use your head Naruto?" Mr Moody asks, paired with another eye roll.

     "Actually, I'm just a chunin. I'm not as skilled as your Sensei," I correct, sending Naruto a soft smile of reassurance.

     "Like a C-level chunin or a B-level chunin?" Sasuke asks, his attention finally caught.

     "Usually B-leveled but I do take C-level missions on occasion."

     "You just got back from a mission, ya?" He asks, body language opening up some. I'm three for three in the student department. That is a solid win.

     "Yes, I did. Maybe we can talk about it over some food, hm?" I gently push, sending Kakashi a sheepish smile. I know he's going to give me what I want; he always does, but I should have asked him privately before bringing it up to his students.

     On the other hand, Kakashi is out of his groove so I'm sure his students are out of a training mindset as well. Some food would help set them back on track, maybe. Probably not, but I want to get to know his students a little more. After all, they're a big part of his life, which makes them a big part of my life.

"Really?! Can we, Sensei? Can we? Can we? Can we?" Naruto cheers, running circles around Kash as he pleads.

"Alright, alright!" He calls, stopping Naruto in his tracks. "We can take a small break and go eat at Ramen Ichiraku, but as soon as we're done eating we are doing the bell test. Y/N can't wiggle you guys out of that," Kashi answers, sending me a warning look, telling me to not even try to stop their testing again after we eat.

"Yes!" Naruto cheers, darting in the direction of the village's main road.

Sasuke rolls his eyes again but follows after his squad mate, his pace notably slower than Naruto's. Sakura follows suit, trying her best to get Sasuke to promise to sit next to her. He is having none of it though, at least not until Naruto offers to sit next to her. Then he seems a little more interested in the offer. The little Uchiha boy takes after his Sensei more than he knows.

—————————————

"That sounds so cool," Naruto yells around a mouth full of noodles. I'll have to send Iruka a passing comment about his kid's lack of table manners. Despite that, Naruto is still adorable and the cutest little fuzz-ball I've ever met.

"Didn't feel cool when I was getting stitched up," I reply a small chuckle following my words.

"If you can take the cut, you can take the stitch," Kakashi teases despite the tighter grip he has on my hand under the table. Mr. Play-It-Cool isn't as laid back as he's pretending.

     "What about you guys? You just got back from the Village hidden in the Mist, ya?" I push gently, trying to change the subject. I can almost hear the 'thank you' brewing in my husband's throat, even if he'd never voice it. The relaxed fingers tangled in mine are enough of an approval. "That must have been fun."

     "It was alright," Sasuke mumbles, chopsticks messing with his noodles. Little Moody isn't as good at playing off his emotions as his Sensei.

     "You got your second tomoe, right?" I try again, turning my focus to Sasuke. He's a closed-off one, just like Kakashi... and his brother.

     The Uchahi's eyes go a bit wide before his full attention is on me. "Um... ya, I guess."

     "You guess? I feel like that's something you would know."

     "I did, ya," he mumbles before turning his attention back to his bowl.

     "Well, that's quite the accomplishment. Your father would be proud."

     I should not have said that. Sasuke's grip on his chopsticks tightens, head snaps back up, glare directed at me, as he pushes himself to his feet. The stool he was standing on clinks to the ground, making Sakura jump. It would be a cute scene if the Uchahi didn't have murder in his eyes.

"And what do you know about my father? Nothing. Just like you know nothing about me, so stop trying to be a mother hen. I don't need you to be one, neither does Naruto or Sakura, so knock it off. And while you're at it stop pretending you know anything about the sharingan too, cause you don't."

     A soft smile sits on my face as I look over Sasuke. He reminds me so much of Kakashi, right down to the similar anger they have. The only difference is I managed to get Kashi to process his anger for the death of his loved ones.

     "Are you done?" I ask gently, ignoring the feeling of Kakashi repeatedly squeezing my hand under the table. That, and the stare he's burning into me.

     "Yes," the Uchiha hisses out, eyes squinting in anger.

     "Well, first, information on anything - sharingan included - is available at the library. Second, your Sensei has a sharingan so I know a good deal about it. Third, there's a difference between me wanting to get to know you and me wanting to mother you. Fourth, I did meet your father quite a few times before his death so I can say for certain that you were one of his pride and joys."

     "Oh," is the only answer I get back, but I don't mind since it seems my speech worked. Sasuke is still a bit on edge but his body language relaxes a bit before he picks his stool back up. I'll count that as a win. What a little spitfire.

The feeling of Kakashi's hold on my hand tightens again, pulling me out of the situation. I turn my attention to him, being met with a soft masked smile. Flowers of love blossom in my chest at the sight. God I love this man, and our little make-shift family. Maybe Sasuke is right, maybe I am accidentally trying to mother my husband's students.

—————————————

"Hatake!" A voice rings out, pulling my attention away from Gai. I've spent the day helping him train his students, aka being an example dummy for new taijutsus he wants to show his genins. It's not all bad, he promised me dinner to "ease my bruises".

"Yes?" I call back, glancing at Gai and his students before turning towards the noise.

Gai's mini-me - Lee - is beaming with joy as he races past me. "If it isn't my greatest competitor for Sakura's heart!" He yells, falling back into his defensive pose. I swear this new generation of Shinobis is just packed full of energy.

     Sasuke makes a face at Lee before turning his attention to me. "Sensei wants you," he murmurs before turning in his heels.

I shoot Gai an apologetic smile before heading off after the Uchahi. It's funny watching him trying to stay a step or two ahead of me. Given, that it doesn't last long, him falling back to a normal pace.

Most of the walk is uneventful, nothing more than silence and eye daggers being thrown at me. "I don't like you," Sasuke finally says once we get to the outer fields of the village.

"Well, I don't like you either," I shoot back, trying to keep the smile off my mouth.

Once again Sasuke makes a face, this time in surprise instead of disgust like earlier. "You can't say that to me."

"And yet, I did," I answer, letting the smirk settle on my face.

"You have an attitude problem."

"I'm copying you, so maybe you have an attitude problem."

Another face, this time leaving him as the spitting image of his mother. It's always surprised me how much Sasuke looks like his mom. Will Kashi and my child look that much like me? Or take after their father? I hope they at least get their father's Shinobi skills. Though, children can't be something I think of right now. Kakashi has his hands full as is.

     Once again silence falls between the genin and I, but this time it's a comfortable silence instead of the anger brewing one from before. As we walk, Sasuke occasionally bumps into me, his nose scrunching up each time followed by a couple of side steps away from me. Despite his efforts, the little Uchahi keeps hovering back to my side and continues to bump into me. It's good to know under all the brewing, Sasuke is still a child.

     "Look!" Naruto's voice echoes across the empty field, his blob coming into view again. "Lady Hatake!" He screams, dragging out my Clan name as he races across the field, Sakura in tow but she's screaming for Sasuke instead of me.

     "Naruto!" I call back, bracing myself for impact. Despite my preparation, I still end up taking a step or two back when Naruto's body collides with mine. His limbs stab into me in a few different places, bones colliding against my own along with my stitches. I suck in the hiss of pain trying to slide out as I hold on to the small boy.

     "Naruto," Sasuke hisses out, dagger eyes back on his face. "Be careful. Hatake is still hurt, dumbie." An eye roll is paired with the end of his sentence, along with a disappointed tongue click.

     "Oh, right. Sorry Lady Hatake."

     "It's all right," I hum, straightening the boy before letting him go. "What are you guys working on?"

     "Chakra control! Which I'm doing awesome at, by the way," Sakura answers, a proud smile across her face. I can't help but smile too at how proud she is of herself. My husband does have some good genins.

     "Hello," Kakashi's voice rings out, pulling my attention away from his students, but not for long.

     "Nah-uh! You get her all to yourself all the time Sensei, wait your turn!" Naruto barks, a sorry attempt at a glare on his face. "Guess what Lady Hatake!"

     "What?" I ask, glancing down at the chakra ball before looking back at my husband. He's beaming - well beaming as much as he lets himself outside of the safety of our house.

     "I tried a new ramen last night!"

     "Oh ya?" My empty question is followed by a twenty-minute conversation about some spicy ramen Naruto tried. It's also filled with Sakura reminding him that he's stupid and Sasuke's disapproval being openly shared.

     "Okay, that's enough about your dinner, Naruto," Kashi pipes up, cutting Naruto off. "You can have her back in a minute. Go... see who can hang upside longest." He mumbles, shrugging towards the tree a couple of feet away.

     "It's totally going to be me," Naruto cheers, running off towards the tree.

     "No way I'm going to let you beat me!" Sasuke yells, dashing after his squad mate, Sakura hot on his heels.

     The thought of children crawls back into my head. I already adore Kash's students, I can only imagine how much I'd adore our children.

     "Hey, Kash-"

     "Love-"

     Silence follows our accidental overlap, before being chased away by both of us chuckling. "What were you going to say?" I ask, soaking in my husband's appearance. No matter how many times or how long I look at him, Kakashi is always the most handsome man in the world.

"I think we should go to dinner tonight," he answers, glancing at his students. As ordered, all three are hanging upside down like bats. Though, Sakura looks tired so the competition will probably end up being between the boys.

"Why's that?" I ask my attention also on the genins. My chest bubbles with joy as I watch the boys try to tug each other off the branches.

"I want to talk about having a baby."

"What?" The word is torn from my lungs as my head flips back to Kakashi.

He's stood there, arms crossed and a faint smile under his mask. "I want to have a baby." He repeats, my head spinning a bit. Maybe he's more prepared for a child than I thought.

"Kash-" I start again, but end up getting cut off for the second time today.

"Naruto is cheating!" Sakura yells, waving her hands around to try and get Kakashi's attention.

     "I'll see you tonight. Naruto! Knock it off!" My eyes trail after him as I watch his path toward his students. The idea of motherhood seemed so lovely a second ago, but now? It's terrifying.

———————————————————————

[thesupreme316]

Hiii I’m here to request ( take your time)

I wonder how aew guys would react to their s/o being clumsy ( she gets hurt lot from being clumsy )

Have a amazing day and take care of yourself

AEW STARS REACT TO: Their S/O being clumsy

Pairings: Eddie Kingston X Reader, Kenny Omega X Reader, Ricky Starks X Reader, Hook X Reader, Nick Wayne X Reader, MJF X Reader, Daniel Garcia X Reader

Word Count: 832

Supreme Speaks: heyyy, thanks to anon for this request (and sorry for taking so long) and I HOPE YOU ARE DOING WELL AND ARE TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF. that's it I think...at least i'm uploading once a week neow...anyways, please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: none tbh, GIFS AINT MINE

Taglist: @eddie-kingstons-wifey @hookerforhook @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @sheinthatfandom @cassie0sstuff @batzy-watzy @triscillal

Eddie Kingston

This man laughs at you

Like a full-on cackle

But don’t get it twisted

He will make sure that you’re all right

But he’s gonna laugh through it

Will buy bubble wrap baby safety items to “keep you safe” (mainly to tease you)

Mans even grabbed a helmet for you

“Remember when you ran into the light pole?? And then you tripped over a cat??”

He’s a tease and will not hesitate to remind you of all your clumsy actions

But he still loves you…even if you don’t have the best balance

Daniel Garcia

He doesn’t know you

Mans would full-on walk away from you and pretend he doesn’t know you

“Oh my god ma’am are you okay? Whispers stop tripping on air”

When while y’all are on vlogs with Isiah

He just looked off into space or into the camera like he’s on the office

Sometimes he would check on you and quickly walk away

It’s not that he’s not concerned…he just embarrassed a lil

Daniel still loves you to bits and pieces

But your name on his phone is still “Two Left Feet”

Ricky Starks

This man laughs at you pt. 2

Teases you like no tomorrow

Have you ever seen those videos where the dogs mock their owners?? Like that one dog pretending to hop on one foot cause his owner was doing it??

…That’s Ricky…

A dog that mocks you every chance he can

He would mock you over and over again to the point where it’s just an instant reply

Once he walked in on you covered in orange juice (cause you know the fridge fell or something) and he instantly started laughing

“I’m so glad I don’t have to clean that up”

He has videos and pictures of you tripping, slipping, falling, running into doors

I mean he would help wipe the juice off your face…but that’s it…you’re on your own

Hook

Man catches you before you fall every time

He will move you out of the way of danger without looking

He doesn’t understand how you are so clumsy and still alive

Doesn’t flinch if he hears a big crash…that’s just the universe letting him know that you are still alive

It’s when you are very quiet that scares him

Like the time he didn’t hear a noise for an hour, Hook decided to check on you

And he found you on the floor holding your foot in silence…looking up at the ceiling in disappointment

“You good?” “Yeah” “Do you need ice?” “No” “Do you wanna be left alone?” “Yeah”

And then he closed the door and sat back down

As long as you are not severely hurt, Hook is fine

Kenny Omega

Immediately cares for you…folds every time

Gets surprised and scared every time you trip or if there is a big noise

But finds your clumsiness adorable

“AWW, you are still so cute…even though you are as fragile as Don’s ego”

Instantly cuddles you, hugs you, and comforts you if anything happens

Has actually wrapped you up in bubble wrap before

Tries his best to make sure that you don’t have to get up to get anything

Worries about if he’s not there to help you and you get seriously injured

But he quickly realizes that it’s a daily thing and that you are fine

He hopes…

MJF

THIS MAN IS EVIL LAUGHING AT YOU

YOU KNOW THAT PICTURE OF SHINEE’S KEY WAS TAKING A PICTURE WHILE MINHO WAS DROWNING? (Here’s the pic)

That’s him…In fact…that’s his home screen

Doesn’t understand how he fell in love with you when you are this clumsy

Has weird nicknames for you

“Hi my little butterfingers, how are you today?”

But also would take your clumsiness and use it to make him look so strong

Just catches you when you fall and would be “What would you do without me here?”

In his mind, he’s your Superman

Nick Wayne

Mans is clumsy too and no you cannot change my mind

Doesn’t judge you at all…will still laugh at you

While he’s laughing at you running into a wall, Nick runs into a door

Now you both on the ground…laughing in pain

You both be covered with bandaids and bruises from running into anything and everything at least once a week

He risks his safety just for you (kith kith)

“I got you sweetheart. place himself between you and the wall Now you won’t stub your toe”

But then he stubbed his toe…so now you have to nurse him

Overall…he just wants to make sure that you are okay

[loving08]

I Love You

Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Summary: Y/N has been working in the BAU for a year now, she is satisfied where she is along with her crush on her Boss Aaron Hotchner, but the entry of a new person would broke her or will she be able to be with man she love.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Epilogue

The team were discussing the information they had when Y/N entered the room, everyone looked up hearing the door opening and turned towards her, she looked at everyone then stopped at Hotch and said "I...uh...talked with Mr. Mitchell about Sarah, she is a very intelligent girl, always tops her class, smart enough to not go off with strangers, has a challenging nature and very friendly with friends and family like a sweetheart". Hotch nodded his head and asked "and anything about their house or family condition?". "Yeah, Mr. Mitchell does not have a great way of income, he works at a grocery store and a garage so the income was not much, and Sarah was also looking for some scholarships so that she could get into good universities" said Y/N and sat down.

Emily looked at the reports and said "Well it would make sense that the kidnapper would go after the Pitterson's since according to this report they have money even with financial problem". Y/N looked at Emily and said "yeah that's why it doesn't make sense why they kidnapped Sarah and asked for money?" and let out a sigh. Hotch looked up from the report too and said "well we should look into other information we have, JJ call Garcia and tell her to find everything about the Pitterson's and Mitchell's, their background story, anything". JJ nodded her head at him and left the room to make the call, Hotch turned towards Y/N and said "Y/N come with me for a second" and walked out of the room. Y/N looked at Spencer and raised her brows at him questioningly but he just gave a confused look in return, letting out a quiet sigh, she stood up and followed Hotch out of the room.

Y/N entered the room where Hotch was waiting for her, upon entering the room she looked up at Hotch and saw his back turned to the door and she was just about to question him when he said "something's going on with you Y/N, I can tell not only just this case but since we have boarded the plane...., you said you will tell me if something's bothering you but you are not and I'm feeling bad that I'm not being able to be there for you like how you do for me" and turned to face her completely and looked at her with so much emotions in his eyes. Y/N gulped seeing the look he was giving her and avoided looking into his eyes and said "nothing's going on Hotch, you are overthinking this, and I can assure you that you are always there for me whenever I needed you so don't go around blaming yourself and start feeling bad about anything".

Hotch came close to her and hold her hand and said "Y/N I don't know what's going on but are you forgetting I'm a profiler, I can tell just from looking at you that something is bothering you, so please tell me what's going on?". Y/N let out a sigh and looked down at their joined hands and said "I think Beth doesn't like me, I don't know what I did to make her feel like that, I just....don't know".

Hotch pulled her chin up and brushed some hair out of her face and said "Is that why you are sad, because she doesn't like you, Sweetheart it doesn't matter if she likes you or not, she's just interning for a while and why does it matter if she likes you or not, you know that I like you", hearing him saying that Y/N eyes widened as she looked at him, and hotch also realized what he said and started to blabber "I mean not only I but the whole team likes you even the whole FBI so I don't think you should worry yourself about her liking". Y/N slightly nodded her head, still trying to wrap her head around the situation when Hotch tugged her closer and hugged her, gently rubbing her hair, he said "Don't think about anything else just focus on yourself okay and if something bothers you please just come to me or anyone you feel comfortable with and share with them". Y/N closed her eyes and nodded her head, hugging him tighter, wanting to feel him close a little longer.

After a while they both returned and started working on the case. A little while later Spencer voice rung in the room drawing everyone's attention. "Maybe the kidnappers want to make him suffer?" said Spencer. Emily crooked her head and said "kidnappers?". Spencer nodded his head and grabbed the tab where he was seeing the recordings the kidnappers had send and said "yeah kidnappers, here look what Sarah is saying "If you don't follow his instructions, it will result in my death" but then it says right after "You have 48 hours after evening before we start sending body parts of your children to bury for you?" see, they switch from saying 'his' to 'we' which makes me think that there might be two or more kidnappers".

Hotch pulled his phone out and called Garcia "Garcia have you found anything on Pitterson's and Mitchells?'. "Nothing more than we already know but I did found that Anthony Pitterson had paid most of the funeral cost of Mrs. Mitchell. Apparently, he was very close to Laila Mitchell before they met their spouses". Y/N furrowed her brows and said "way too nice of him to pay for her funeral costs". "I don't think there's anything weird about it, I mean they have known each other for a very long time so as a friend he paid for her funeral, I don't think you should make him look like a suspect just because of this Y/N" said Beth looking at Y/N with a glare.

Y/N felt confused and was about to confront her about her attitude towards her too when Hotch stepped up and said "It is actually very weird and suspicious that he paid most of the funeral costs, she wasn't his wife or anything and even if they were friends I don't think any friends would give these large amount of money so yes it is vey weird" and looked at Beth with a glare and said "and next time don't talk to Y/N with that attitude, she's in a higher position than you, give her the respect she deserves and don't forget we all will give the details and your evolutions to the higher ups, so don't give anyone that attitude and get back to work Agent Archer". Beth looked taken aback by the way Hotch talked to her and nodded her head at him and gave a light glare towards Y/N and turned back to her work. Hotch let out a sigh and turned towards the team and said "look into anything you find suspicious, don't let anything slip out" and left the room to talked with the sheriff.

Y/N also got back to her work when she felt someone nudge her and looked up to find Spencer, looking at him questioningly she asked "do you need something Spencer, or did you found something again?", "well I'm not here for that, but did you see how Hotch stand up for you and confronted her" and wriggled his brows at her. Y/N shook her head at him and said "Don't even try to make me think that way Spencer, he didn't do that just for me but because she was causing a scene that shouldn't happen and she needs to handle her attitude in front of him so yeah that's the only reason". Spencer turned her to face him and said "Are you really that stupid Y/N or are you trying to pretend like one, I mean don't you see the way he reacts for you or towards you, see the way he looks at you, I just don't understand why you are trying so hard to think like Its not the way we think it is? why not tell him your feelings for him?". "Because I don't want to be heartbroken, its scary Spencer, I mean what if I did accept that Hotch feels the same way that I do and confessed to him but he rejects me, that will hurt way too much Spencer and I don't think I'm prepared for something that painful so no I will not get my hopes up and I will not confess my feeling for him".

Spencer let out a sigh and just hugged her, knowing that she was right and not dragging the matter longer they both get back to their work.

I'm sorry, I was not being able to post, my mid-sems were going on so I was very busy, sorry.

[crazyk-imagine]

Triple Frontier - Gym Edition Series

A/N: Yes kids, I decided to make this into a short series. All pertain to the same "universe" ie the gym.

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

So each fic happens after the other, basically there are "variants" of you, the reader, getting together with the Triple Frontier boys

I will be putting them in the order that they are posted so the "timeline" makes sense

William "Ironhead" Miller

Gym Time and Shopping Trips // Ao3: Gym Time and Shopping Trips

Summary: Will finally realizes how lonely he is when Benny finds his own girlfriend. Funny thing is, it seems like fate is on his side and brings someone into his life. You wind up running into him and he's thrown off because... you're his ideal girl; you can take care of yourself and others while keeping him entertained. What more could he ask for?

Ben "Benny" Miller

Gym Crushes // Ao3: Gym Crushes

Summary: Benny has had a crush on you for so long, it’s become annoying how much he talks about you to the others. Thankfully one of the two participating parties has half a mind to take action and do something. It also helped that they guys know you and you wound up getting some information after that which helped give you two a push in the right direction.  

Francisco "Cafish" Morales

Gym Love // Ao3: Gym Love

Summary: You haven't been in a relationship in a while so when your sister found her special someone and got pregnant. She could tell some things were brought up but never said a word. Now it's time you babysit your adorable niece plus another. You never would have imagined meeting such a good-looking guy while babysitting and looking like a mess. But you thank your lucky stars every time you open that door and come home to them two.

Santiago "Pope" Garcia

Gym and Admin Work // Ao3: Gym and Admin Work

Summary: You don't know how long it took him to wear you down, but the smooth bastard did it. Luckily for him, he doesn't mind the dry sarcasm and loves seeing you get all flustered. Take him to your favorite spot to talk about your childhood, he's hooked... even more than he was before. He only wishes the night didn't have to end... but what he doesn't know is that, neither do you.

[mariamariquinha]

Bossa Nova (Benny 'Borracho' Magalon x f!reader) - Ten

Nine | Eleven

Summary: Benny's pov (my boy is so stressed).

Word count: 7.482.

Warnings: Bad words, slightly talks about cop corruption, violence, crime, talks about mental/physical health, mention of use of pills, hospital environment and police work.

Author’s Note: I like my men like how I visualize myself: stressed and in need of a fucking break.

I'm also on AO3 now!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

****

If someone asked any woman who was involved with Benny at some point in their life about him, there would always be a universal phrase: he's complicated. Not 'complicated' in a 'he has a difficult and unstable life' way, because he did, but in a 'he hasn't known how to be a nice guy for a long time' way. 

Daddy issues. Classic. 

He was committed to the Major Crimes guys, especially Nick, because there was a part of him that hated to disappoint. Aside from ego or personal compensation, Benny saw a lot of his own father in Big Nick, so despite the two being almost the same age, the position of power gave O'Brien a very complex image of a patriarch – flaws and all. When Debbie left, it was clear that Nick would follow the same path as that father, with the difference that he would at least try to spend weekends with the children; Benny wouldn't be able to recognize what the 'head of his family' should be if he had to. 

It had been years since he was just Benicio Ramirez Magalon and not Benicio Ramirez Garcia Magalon, as if he erased every particle of his father from his own history in an arbitrary way, but still having that ghost on his shoulders with O’Brien. 

He didn't think much that night, but he knew it would be natural for him to walk away. It must have been the most genuinely decent thing Benny did for any woman under those circumstances. Maybe it was the fact that you knew how to set limits, that you recognized your weaknesses with an ease that Benny couldn't.

In conclusion, he was disappointed to not find you more resilient than finding out Nick slept with informants, which soon enough he caught himself being a fucking asshole. Maybe that's why, because of this lack of cynicism on your part and the excess of the same feeling on his part, Benny concluded that you were destined for good guys. Some who, at least, didn't make the decisions he made.

****

“And we have a fireplace.”

Yeah, indeed, they had a fireplace – one that was basically turning into dust. You stood there with your arms crossed, letting your mother inspect the apartment and make comments about it. While she and the realtor (a small woman named Eidra) went back to one of the bedrooms, you sat on the small bench left behind on the miniscule living room by the last residents, watching your father look through the window.

When you two shared a glance, the answer was all over the place: a huge and big and extreme and frustrated and disappointed no.

****

Listen, it could always get worse. That was life, you know? And you should know better than to expect that the divorce and the whole Isla stuff would pass by you. Well, it passed through you. With a delay, but still. 

Some of this was your fault, you could admit. Your brother had already advised you to negotiate the sale of the house as soon as the divorce procedures were in progress and you were so catatonic, in a way, that you didn't want to add more to what already seemed too complicated. After months, you found the buyers – good price, you made a profit. 

During Christmas, you ended up tripping over the closed moving boxes and spraining your foot, so on New Year's Eve you didn’t enjoy the trip as much as you could. A bad start to the year, but not the worst thing that happened to you in a long time. 

They were organizing a farewell party for Emma; by March, she would be at DEA headquarters leading their forensic team. You had to act surprised, and politely refused to help with the details ('I'm busy with this moving thing'), which she probably took as a bitter departure. Well, it was what it seemed to be. You didn’t call her off with that, but some part of you was feeling that pit of disgust. There was a murmur about whether or not to invite Major Crimes (even though they never attended that kind of thing), which everyone ended up looking at you for clarification. You didn't know, and that's what you said, accompanied by a modest shrug of the shoulders.

“Send an invitation by email, it's less work if they say no.”

Even because you had time to rethink the unfortunate occasions with O'Brien. You felt offended but you also felt guilty, which was a rather cruel conclusion that Nick was indirectly manipulating you. When you told Gina this, she just gave a genuine shrug and sighed.

“It isn’t like he wasn’t that kind of person before, you know.”

You felt bad – you felt used again. Doubted, discredited. And the fact that you thought you wouldn't care if it happened, that you would be as strong as you had been through the divorce, just showed that you had an ability to lie to yourself. Benny left that night and you knew he had the same realization too; you found yourself believing that the opinion of someone who still followed such strict orders from someone like Nick had no opinion value in your life.

You no longer fit into LASD.

****

“You have insomnia and lack of nutrients. I'll prescribe you some pills and vitamins for both, but I need you to pump the brakes. Burnout has been killing people lately.”

Perhaps, deep down, you knew that this distancing also came with your need to hide that your physical health had worsened. It wasn't that bad, but you had barely been eating and… yeah, you really didn't need another surprise with so much going on.

The doctor pondered something, eyeing the papers and you with a serenity that was closer to reticence. You waited, shoulders slumped and eyes heavy, lacking energy to ask anything else. 

“... This seems like a pattern. The lack of sleep, your headaches… Have you considered another type of approach?”

Long short story, no. And he probably knew that too, since you were there and not in a therapist's office, so you saw him lean over the desk and give you one of those scolding looks.

“It’s very normal for people in your profession to have this type of behavior. Considering what has happened in your personal life, I would advise a psychological reevaluation.”

“I’m not depressed.”

But he hadn't hinted at it, or said anything like that out loud, which only made it all make more sense. He sighed in defeat, then signed the recipe and, alongside with it, put a flier about mental health just in case.

The medicines would be an unforeseen additional expense, but it should give you some peace of mind. At least you hoped so. 

****

“Yes.”

“Bad time?” Gina sounded quite confused on the other end of the line, so you frowned at her tone and stuffed the pills into your bag irritably, the breeze not doing much to cheer up your mood. It wasn't even summer anymore, but the day still felt unbearably hot.

“I’m not on my peak, no.”

Gina went quiet for a bit. In the background, you could hear the noise of people coming and going, as if she were in a crowded place. Calmly, you backed up the sidewalk until you were under the awning of the pharmacy you had just left, switching your phone from ear to ear to hear her better. 

“... What was it? Did someone die?” 

“Where are you right now?”

“I am…” You looked over your shoulder, then at the sign of the pharmacy printed right above your head. “Had to run some errands.”

“How far are you from the Good Samaritan?”

“Good Samar-Gina, I was joking about-”

“You won't believe who's here.”

****

He had been quiet since he arrived and it was understandable. Apart from the answers he gave to the police, there was not much interest in having any type of social interaction, which was respected: it was not as if he was or should have been accustomed to the context in which he was placed.

It was different from the other cases they had been following, Z mentioned. Maybe a slip, but no one could be sure because they weren't experts in psychological profiles and the idea of ​​involving the feds was out of the question. For a lot, there was intuition, experiences on the streets, informants… Murph had already checked, there was a strong lead and they were almost there.

No one wanted to mention the damn coincidences that led them to that hospital and, more precisely, the crime scene. Gina, perhaps, had reacted in some way that revealed a truth that no one wanted to verbalize, and Nick asked them to keep an eye on her – Emma’s leaving, until further notice these people would be a bit of a smartass. 

But what would Gina do, anyway? If she could? Would she call you of all people and ask you to pray for your ex's life? 

Still, Benny stood guard at the hospital until Gina finished work and kept an eye on the news, or at least Twitter. If you had known about it, there would already have been news on the internet and, if you had appeared, taken by an immaculate concern towards the tragedy, you would’ve already done so. All in all, the reason why everyone was on their last strings was how you going there could be harmful to the case.

Maybe that was the problem, after all: he didn't know that side of you. What kind of wife you were, what kind of friend you could be. Everything was too casual, limited to observations he made and the things he remembered when you talked. There was no more karaoke, nor costume parties or Cosmopolitans in your cards or a brother to rely on; he knew these things, but none of them were valid at that moment.

So when he saw you peeking down the hall right after Gina had left (when he himself was already determined to get out of there), Benny didn't feel so surprised because he had tested the odds. Cautiously, he stood nearby, watching your diminished, secretive posture pass by the nurses' table and take slow steps to where Theodore was at. He was frustrated, in fact, and maybe a little stressed by everything, because he certainly didn't expect you to make the dumbest decision possible.

You stopped at a safe distance from the room and didn't come any closer. With a bag slung over your shoulder, you gripped the strap tightly, standing still there as you saw what was left of a guy after getting his ass beaten up, perhaps processing things that Benny would never know about. 

The girlfriend appeared: Aileen. She also hesitated when she noticed you, holding a cup of coffee in her hand as she came up from behind. At this point, Benny became more alert, ready to intervene. Interestingly, Henderson was also returning from somewhere, certainly to pick him up, and his louder voice calling your attention caused a beautiful disaster, like an announced tragedy.

You turned around too quickly, right when she was already on your trail, and hit your arm on the coffee cup that seemed hotter than expected. It hurt, of course. You screamed as the liquid burned the skin of your hand, leaning down just in time for one of the nurses to come to your aid. Aileen stood there in confusion as the liquid hit her clothes, and before Benny could take any further steps to take action, the reality that everyone was in a hospital dawned on him and he stopped.

He exchanged a glance with you as one of the nurses took you to the emergency room. 

“What the fuck, is she out of her fucking mind?” Henderson asked eventually, even if they both knew he would apologize later. 

Benny didn't answer him, however; he doubted the answer even though he thought he was aware enough of your behavior. He just watched you go in silence, both fists clenched in anger. 

****

You had your head down, your eyes still wet from the tears from the pain you had felt. The nurse had been delicate and, considering it was relatively calm, was going through the entire process in a well-rehearsed way. The emergency room was still lively, with people going from one side to the other. When you weren't watching her clean the burn, you looked up at the other patients waiting: broken arms, bloody noses.

Last time, you saw Benny with his arms crossed near the curtain that separated your space, even though it was the only one far from the others.

You knew at that moment that you were fucked.

“Boyfriend?” The nurse asked, making you eye her then him rapidly. 

“No,” You two answered in unison, to which you ended up averting your gaze in embarrassment. 

“I'd like to talk to her privately, anyway. If you don't mind,” He pressed a little, not minding the rude tone he was using. 

She eyed him, then you. With a small nod of yours, she sighed in tiredness and rolled her eyes, tidying up the bandage before leaving. 

A silence hung in the air, tense and with a hint of the impatience he was clearly feeling. You ignored this, however, glancing at your injured hand here and there before adjusting yourself better on the stretcher.

“You know, when I was a rookie I used to get quite excited with the prospect of being heard just showing my badge,” He commented, so you couldn’t help but scoff.

“Yeah, yeah, perhaps the biggest problem in America is men with damaged egos because no one cares about the size of their dicks anymore.” 

“You always seem to have a metaphor for dicks.”

“It’s a talent.”

“As is your ability to put yourself in shitty situations.”

You looked into his face for a few seconds and found an anger that, in general, seemed to be the only thing available to you from him. No more smiles or sympathy: Benny had chosen his side of the story and, really, that was fine. Still, you couldn't help but miss the other version of him as much as you did at that moment.

“I'm not going to ask who told you because that would be a really stupid question,” He took one, two steps closer to the curtain, slightly pushing it to cover the both of you. “Let's be adults and then you tell me why you came.”

Good question. Great question, actually. Why were you there? Why did you make the fucking dumb decision to be the bigger person and show up? And, by all intends, to end up with a coffee burn from… 

Yeah, it wasn’t your prime, you could give him that. 

“He wasn't just my ex husband. And I didn't want to come, but I thought I would be an asshole if I didn’t do anything.”

Benny stared at you for a long moment then; he stood there, still, eyeing you as if he was looking for something – to the point of discomfort. You averted your gaze to the floor. 

“I've read your file, did you know that? As soon as you came in and became the talk of the team, I went to find out who you were,” It made you raise your head to him, taken aback by his sudden change of subject. “First in your class, completed a specialization while still graduating. You're kind of a genius, and honestly, you had every right to be a bit of an asshole to people.”

“... You don’t need to say this,” You said.

“What should I say then?”

“I can work with nothing,” And then you snapped at him, seeing his expression shift from serenity to full annoyance. “We’ve been doing this dance very well over the last few months.” 

When he didn't offer any further comment, sighing in impatience from your stubbornness. 

“What I mean is, you're a fucking smart scientist and everything, but you still insist on being naive like that.”

“I know,” You mumbled in defeat. 

“Do you now?”

In other times, there would be a cunning answer on the tip of your tongue; hell, in other times, you wouldn't even let him or anyone talk to you like that. The point was that you were so tired of putting yourself in this position, of facing things that weren't even your business because you had been in that defensive and combative mode since things started to get out of control.

You sighed and ran your good hand over your face, rubbing away the melancholy expression.

“Do you still like him?” You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows in surprise at his question, watching the way he was so serious about it. 

“What’s that supposed to fucking mean?” 

He shrugged. 

“Means whatever.”

“I don’t like him.”

“It wasn't what it seemed.”

“Are you serious?” You couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. “You don't know anything about my life to insinuate that kind of thing about me.”

“So answer me without sounding like I'm accusing you of something.”

“Well, then ask questions that don't sound like you're accusing me of something.”

And that seemed to have ended the argument (not the conversation), but Benny didn't move or seem willing to do anything to end the topic. 

“... What?” You asked with impatience. 

“The girl who spill the coffee on you, she-”

“Aileen,” Your interruption came with a huff, while wiggling the fingers of your bad hand. “Yes, she’s a stunning woman my ex cheated me with, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.”

“I’m not trying to ask anything,” Benny frowned. “You're the one on the defensive. I don't want to know the details, I just need to make sure you don't put yourself in the front line of something that’s none of your business.”

“He’s someone I know!”

“Are you serious right now?”

“No,” You used a firm tone, watching him go from stern to doubtful in a beat. “I’m a human being and unfortunately I’m sensitive enough to visit my ex who was beaten by a gang of robbers. Do I wish I had done something to her for what happened? Of course, but unfortunately I also like my job. And my ethics, if that matters.” 

“I just don't want to have to clean up any messes again.”

Deep down, if you really cared, you would’ve been more outraged by what he had said to you. In the end, you just became even more pissed off, so it probably meant that you were mad. The audacity, the… That seemed like the kind of thing that put him closer to what Major Crimes really was.

“... You're quite an asshole, you know that?”

He sighed, looking away and probably reevaluating a route. 

“I didn't mean it that way.”

“Sure. How lucky would I be to endure two public humiliations without having provoked them? I really must be a saint.” 

“Then I’ll be the bitch. I meant exactly what I meant,” You both shared a stare. 

In fact, he was right: you were complicating everything. If you had just done what you meant to do, maybe you wouldn't have acted so immature, but there you were, holding your ground because you were an idiot. This was so frustrating, so stupid. You didn't need to do that, you didn't need to try to be something you weren't. No one ever imposed this type of behavior on you, there was no gun in your head telling you that things should be that way. 

You felt defeated. Your physicality, your face, everything exuded the reflections of a woman well out of orbit. 

“I'm going to tell you something very honest,” He took a few steps closer, searching the eyes you’d been avoiding until you could be looking at each other again. “I want you away from this case. Not because I think you're gonna mess something up, but at this point it's clear that your judgment can prevail over the evidence.” 

It wasn't like he was wrong, so you stayed quiet.

“Nick is going to end up being pretty scathing about what happened here today, so believe me when I say that this time I'm really going to let you off the hook. You'll owe me one.” 

Again, you remained silent, which was a bit surprising since you almost always had something to say. He was there, stern, giving you a well-deserved scolding, pointing a finger in your face, and it was as embarrassing as it was incredibly satisfying. It wasn't like what happened in your kitchen or anything like that, because he was truly mad at you, not the circumstances. Without Nick, Isla, Emma; it was you and him. You were the target.

His eyes were focused on yours, because he wanted to say it in all words. They seemed even darker, more powerful compared to yours, and that made you move in shyness. It was a side of Benny you didn't know yet.

“And please wake up. That girl isn’t half the woman you are,” This shocked you even more, since he hadn't stopped looking visibly irritated while passing his eyes over your body. “Nor half-experienced.”

Okay, well, that was… Well… 

He shouldn’t have that right, did he? Why were you blinking several times and not saying anything then?

You stayed quiet – you didn’t want to embarrass yourself somehow. And with your silence, Benny just nodded while averting his gaze for a beat too long, passing a palm over his mouth with a tense sigh. 

“She's going to discharge you and I want you away from here, understand?” He murmured, both hands placed on the mattress to cage you. 

If he asked (which he clearly wouldn't), you would explain the details of your drunken confession from that first date. Benny was very intense, definitive; that was his version a little beyond what happened in your kitchen, and if you pushed a little harder, you'd notice that his eyes were darker than normal, putting you in an instant trance, whether out of fear, regret or… something else.

His eyes, at that moment when you just didn't say anything, went from your eyes to your eyebrows and then to your nose and mouth, agitated about how to actually look at you. 

“Am I understood?” Benny pressed with a growl. 

You nodded. 

“Yes or no?” 

“Yes.”

“Great.”

He walked away with some hesitation, but opened the curtain to leave with a brutality that made you jump instantly. You let out a heavy breath, bringing your injured and closed hand to your chest in a somewhat unconscious act of protection, but not necessarily because of him. Benny was right; reactive, but right. 

What the fuck were you doing in that place?

****

“Why did you do that?”

Henderson was driving back to the station when he asked. The car remained silent, with no answer for a long time, and Benny continued to stare at what he had written down of what Theodore said.

“She’s a partner. Big Nick would do the same.”

“I don't think so,” Henderson snorted. “You like her.” 

Benny didn't comment on that either, because there wasn’t anything to add. In any case, the lack of a reply said everything his friend needed to know.

****

Okay, Benny did like you a little. Amicably. At first it was purely sexual, and he even thought about bragging to Connors that he had managed to fuck you first, because he was sure he wasn't going to make it past the first date. But even with all the other interesting women he did the same thing with, the indifference you had made it for him. If it was just that, if you had drunk a little less and gone to bed with him that night, that would be fine to you; maybe you even expected the other guys would know about it. 

Then you two kissed and he didn’t mention anything to anyone. You became funnier and prettier and he noticed the things about you. Benny found out he liked the idea of it being a secretive thing, to remember how you sounded, the texture of your skin and the smell of your hair and keep it to himself. You were an irredeemable nerd, but you were rebellious: you clashed with Big Nick, you had a beautiful, huge tattoo on your leg, you smoked marijuana, you messed with other girls.

He enjoyed your closeness, whether as a friend or as a lover. It was advantageous to have you around.

Since what happened at the hospital, Benny thought about apologizing and saying that he was just upset. They were really close to get that guys, there was a lot of pressure from above after the debacle with the DEA, no one was in the thick of the fucking around. He didn't apologize despite wanting to, though, because he knew things didn't feel easy for you either.

Well, he couldn’t be sure of it, if he liked you as if in a crush or just as a person who he got along with. You made him hesitate to make some kind of mistake towards you, so what Benny could say for certain was that he liked you. Just a little.

****

“Do you know anything about this?”

You and your dad were in the kitchen washing the dishes when he asked. His tone was low, almost discreet to be heard only by you and, hopefully, distant enough for your mother to take note of the question. The room was small, very different from your old house, and the walls provided good coverage so that she, who was on the emergency stairs smoking a cigarette, was at an even safer distance.

Still, you peeked out the small window above the sink and could see the smoke rising from the exact place you saw her climbing. 

Earlier, they arrived talking about how the newspapers and Twitter had reported what had happened to Theodore. You did no more than say that Gina brought it up, but you weren't on the case and it was ethically (as well as judicially) wrong for you to get too close. Still, you tried hard to say that you knew he was okay – which your father clearly managed to see as a half-truth.

“... I went to see him at the hospital,” You mumbled, eyes fixed on the dishes in front of you, not daring to find out how he was looking at you. 

“You two talked?”

“No,” You paused. “But I saw Aileen.” 

He didn't say anything; the tap was still on, but the noise of dishes being moved had stopped. You pretended you hadn't noticed, going to the cupboard and putting away the already dry glasses, trying to stay away from the excruciating gaze you felt on the back of your head.

That silence had meaning; your father could go days without bringing up the subject waiting for you to talk about it. Like it or not, you could let him use this strategy, and you would have more time to decide how to talk about it, but your mother knew this habit better than you and, well, there was a reason why you were talking away from her. 

You closed the cabinet and turned around, moving closer to him before leaning the small of your back against the table, defensively crossing your arms. He turned off the tap, dried his hands; the worried expression never left his face.

“I was in the hallway and one of the detectives in charge called me. I turned around without realizing she was behind me, so she accidentally spilled hot coffee on my hand,” You held up your hand wrapped in the bandage.

“So you two didn’t interact? Aside from this?”

“Like in an indian soap opera, yeah,” Your answer made him hiss. “She apologized, I think. I don’t remember a lot.”

Well, it was a lie – one he could catch from a mile away. You remembered each piece of moment you could grab from that mess: the way her eyes widened at the sight of the coffee being spilled on your skin, the way she raised her hands to reach out, the pain, the step back you gave to make sure she wouldn’t get any closer and, specially, the way Benny and Henderson were watching the whole scene. 

The reason why you didn’t go into a spiral of remorse was this fact, that amongst Z or Nick, the ones who were there were the least worse. Gus was nice, polite and Benny was… Benny. And for days you expected for something, for Emma to give you one last penitence or for O’Brien to spill some shit on your face; God knew you deserved it all. It was a bad feeling. You didn't like the idea of ​​feeling embarrassed, the exposure or even your lack of reaction, but more than that, you felt torn by the idea that you hadn't felt as sorry for Theodore as you thought you would.

“It’s just… I’ve been punching myself for even going there in the first place,” You sighed in defeat, your good hand passing all over your face. 

“Maybe we raised you way too well.”

“That’s not entirely true… But not because of you, that is.”

And you knew you shouldn't have said that, at least not in those words, because then he would come with more arguments about how you should let your mother in, about how she wanted to be part of your life and how it would be better to have her as a support – as a woman-to-woman conversation would be more enlightening.

He didn’t even need to point that out, in fact; you already slipped in before he could open his mouth. 

“I think it's better not to.”

“Because she could be too harsh?”

“Because she could be too honest. I love her, dad, I really do, but I had a hell of a moment with a coworker that makes me ashamed to even look at his direction because of it. I…”

I don’t want to disappoint her again. I don’t want to be a burden. 

It was always much easier for your brother when it came to your mother: she welcomed him and they just understood each other. With you it was always a problem. She said you spent a lot of time with your dad, that you must be like this or that, that, honey, Theodore is a great kid but I don't think he'll come back after college. He returned. You got married. You got divorced and, during all the crises, you were also embarrassed to come back with your tail between your legs to say that she was right in a way. You made your brother swear under professional secrecy that he wouldn't tell her anything, but you still contained details just in case.

So no, it was better not to. It would be another shame, another thing that she would look at you with great pity, and you were tired of putting yourself in that position.

“I'm off the case anyway. Gina doesn't report to me, just like she gave the tests to the person on the other shift. There's no risk of me getting closer to Theodore again.”

“But you were looking for something when you went there. Did you find it?”

You stared straight at his eyes for a long, beating moment. 

“... I did.”

“And what was it?”

For a brief second, you could still feel the sensation of seeing Theodore beaten up, the dried blood and lowered eyes. Could see the way he seemed fine, injured but not unstable, able to still be operative, essential to the industry. 

“Relief.”

****

“I know you.”

You didn't expect it to come out so full of doubt, but you expected him to have some memory lapse in the time you had seen him.

Dr. Cillian Byrne was a professor you had at university just before you changed your major. It was in your first year, at the end of the first semester, and with the changes in the curriculum for your audiovisual expertise, you only had the chance to attend, roughly, three or four of his classes. He was a bit young for the position, people said, and when your academic psychopathy caught other people's attention, they told you the same thing. Unlike him, you never went that far. After you graduated, you joined the LASD and managed to pass the evaluation for field CSI, but with so much bureaucracy in the way, you ended up stationed in the laboratory for good.

Looking at him there, it felt like a full circle moment. You didn't connect the dots until that last name took place and you exchanged glances with Emma from afar, who just shook her head lightly as if to say you shouldn’t mention Ballard. 

“I took some classes with you in college,” You mentioned after saying your name, watching his eyebrows raise in recognition. 

“Right, I remember you. The girl who ran to the second boring stuff in CSI.” 

“The second?”

“It's the rule. First come the academics, then the laboratory rats, then the coroners and only then the self-centered field ones.”

Emma was walking towards you when he said that, so when she got closer and saw that the two of you were sharing friendly laughs with each other, she went from confused to pleased in seconds.

“It isn’t that usual to see a successor at a faraway party, but I feel like it’s going well,” She said.

The hotel ballroom was full (exaggeratedly, but fair enough) and judging by the amount of times you saw Dr. Byrne going from group to group with smiles, you could agree that he was breaking the awkwardness of being there under these circumstances. Maybe it was the mood itself. Everyone was well dressed, sipping expensive drinks they could only have on special occasions, laughing at whoever was on duty and taking photos for Facebook; the boring part could wait until the next day.

“I was telling her she’s the first familiar face I've seen here, which is a surprise,” Dr. Byrne lied, so you sipped on your soda to avoid giving that away. 

“... Oh,” Emma frowned, a confused smile fighting for its life to not make her discomfort so evident. “You do know each other, then.”

“He was one of my professors in college.”

“Almost,” He teased, eyes swiping from you to her. “I found out just after two weeks that she fled to the computers.” 

“You seem to have been upset about this,” She was the one teasing now, on the verge of embarrassment to be honest. 

“Well, when you start hearing how much this student who changed majors became one of the bests… It’s hard not to feel at least jealous, right?”

And perhaps Emma and you would talk about this in the future if it hadn't been in that sensitive context, because it was clear that Dr. Byrne had looked into everyone in the department and was perhaps doing background checks as if he were doing his homework. It was the first time in months that you and Emma exchanged a similar look, raising your eyebrows and understanding the situation right away, sharing glances with an inside joke that you hadn't told each other for a long time.

“She’s really great, I have to admit. Hurts me to leave this whole amazing team, to be honest,” She went the easy and polite way, one hand tapping on your arm. “I'm sure you'll get along great on a daily basis.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Who else would give me a better report on what’s up with the infamous Major Crimes’s gang?” 

This time, the discomfort that had been eating away at the edges and that you were able to overcome came to the surface, which made you step back with confusion close to indignation. Dr. Byrne seemed neutral despite this, smiling from ear to ear as he watched Emma unsure of what to say and then you, coming to the inevitable conclusion that he was an idiot.

“... I’m afraid that I’m not the best person to expect that. Perhaps the sheriff?” You gave one more chance to get away with the topic, but he shook his head and insisted, keeping that smile that started to scare you off a little. 

“Why wouldn't it be you? Emma told me that you all have an extensive professional partnership. Not to mention the quality of your reports on Ballard's cases.”

“Oh.”

“I just told him that you could explore more of your expertise with the complex cases they work with,” She rushed to add, the glare on your face now clear as the day.

“I see.”

“But I believe, Dr. Byrne, that I also added that she knows how to limit herself to technical reports, all personalized for each context. You saw it yourself, as she was an expert on a case with one of our most senior detectives.” 

Only then, perhaps added to the way you were no longer so interested in being friendly around the subject, did Dr. Byrne step back and nod, praising your ability to remain professional in the work environment or something. You honestly stopped paying attention, eyes swiping over your drink in hand to avoid any signs of clear embarrassment. 

“I’m really excited to start this new journey with you all. See you on Monday?” He turned to you, giving just enough time for your reaction to snap your head up and force a smile. 

“Of course. Welcome to LASD.”

You two shook hands, then he left. 

But Emma stayed. 

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Did you also mention your friendship with Walsh?” You couldn’t help the venom on your voice, which made her sigh. “Very professional, Emma. Very professional.”

“He just did the research, okay? I wasn’t intending to share everything about you guys, but he just came by with a fucking folder with all your names on it. Not to mention what the sheriff told me…” 

Not that you were in a position to speculate, much less to sympathize with whatever she had faced, but Emma lost her neutral posture as soon as he walked away, that you lost some of your irritation and eyed at her suspiciously, seeing her looking around and making sure no one would hear.

“I made a list of recommendations, but he didn't even read them and said that Byrne had already been chosen. Nick came up to me and said that-”

“You talked with Nick about it?”

“See how weird things are,” She rolled her eyes. “I think he feels threatened. Byrne is close to the sheriff, this could undermine O’Brien's freedoms.”

“And is it bad?”

“I don’t know… I mean, when you know how someone operates, it can be easy to guess, but I’ve never been around him enough to be sure of anything.”

“So you’re suspicious because of this,” You concluded and she agreed. With a deep breath, you looked around just as she did minutes before, catching sight of Cillian and Lennon talking. 

“He’s… an academic.”

“He’s a brat,” You shook your head, biting your lower lip while still staring at him from afar. “Older men, high IQs... Just the smell of testosterone bothers me.” 

“It's not like my feminine presence made any difference.”

When you looked at her again, surprised by her condescending tone, Emma was sipping her own drink with some embarrassment. You didn't know if you should give any approval, if you even had the right to do that, but you knew that it was just her trying to have a clearer conscience about what happened. Byrne was going to take over, and she admitted she had misgivings about the guy – it was noble, like a last shred of ethics in the middle of what seemed like a specifically planned transition.

“... You made it easier for Walsh to take over the case once and for all, didn't you?” 

Emma kept quiet, which was enough of an answer. Not knowing what to say, you nodded along in that silence, unsure if you were shocked or just… relieved. 

“I can understand your disbelief in Nick's methods. Take it from me, I had some problems because of it,” You conceded, so she raised her eyes at you sheepishly. “It's hypocritical to say that in parting, but I was upset that you did that knowing that Walsh would somehow throw me into the fire.” 

“You better than anyone could understand that it was an inevitable consequence.”

“I do, that’s why I never tried to make it a big deal all these months. God knows we have a lot to be forgiven for, so… Be careful with Mathias, ‘kay? Just as you’re telling me to be careful with Byrne.” 

It was the closest you and she could get to resolving the problems. In the future, perhaps, you could look at it more coldly and understand that it was too dramatic, but it wasn't the time; at the moment, the two of you have reached a consensus for the greater good.

The kind that included men with a lot of midlife crises.

****

Benny had seen the whole scene, from Byrne approaching you, the jokes he made you laugh at and even the moment he made you throw a look of disgust at him. He shouldn't even be there anymore: he had a date that night, one that would probably result in a good fuck and none of Emma's rascality. Still, as he watched you interact with those people, Benny ended up traveling in thought again.

He thought he missed what you had risked before. You were more relaxed, determined; you had no way of deciding what he was because the two of you barely knew each other. The dress you wore there was similar to the one on your first date, but not the same. If he tried, he could still feel your awkward drunken ways or, with more effort, visualize the result of an alcohol-free night like the one you were having at that party.

Deep down, Benny wanted to feel like a good guy because, for some reason, he didn't want to put you in that trophy position like he did or would do with other women. This comforted him; encouraged him. If he got closer again, if you started a relationship again, he was afraid that he would succumb to the boredom of not being able to hold on to that heroic feeling of having spared you from something toxic, that would soon hurt you or he would hurt himself.

“Are you going?” Connors asked as soon as he felt Benny shift beside him. “She’s gonna say some words.”

So he stayed, both feet firmly planted on the floor as long as he could, watching each other as Emma went up on the small improvised stage to test the microphone and you, who remained in the same place, one arm resting on the bar counter as you looked at the scene with a blank expression.

“You know, I never thought I would go through this before I was 60, but I think destiny is something impressive,” Emma said. “Having to say goodbye to you all is painful, but I know that this new phase will be transformative for all of us. In a positive way, that is.”

You passed your hand (the injured one) over your mouth, as if you were hiding a reaction even though no one other than him was paying attention to you.

“Since I'm not much of a talker and since I know I said my private goodbyes to everyone here, I'd like to recite one of the emails I received from my mentor once I got my position at LASD.”

Everyone got quiet. 

“True peace is only truly achieved when we realize that we cannot be all good and, therefore, we will be villains for some and heroes for others. It’s an unfair and cruel measure, but despite being protagonists of our own stories, our moral compass will not always point in the right direction. It’s up to us, as human beings, to embrace our weaknesses and ensure that, within our obligations, we can do our best. Therefore, our sacrifices will soon be seen as choices, which will or will not shape who we’ll be as people.”

It was only for a second, a thousandth of a second, when Emma finished that corny speech and everyone applauded, that Benny looked at you again and saw that you looked back. It shouldn't have meant anything to you, just like it did to him, but he knew that, perhaps, that adventure should’ve ended before it began.

That was the choice you two made.

****

No pressure tags:

@cheesybadgers

@thoroughlymodernminutia

@seaweeden

@thesandbeneathmytoes

@eclecticfashionbookszipper

@servenas-inner-fangirl

@mysoulisasunflower

[bloodywickedlips]

Lessons and Scars Pt6

I looked at the screen and saw the small spot where the baby was and saw its little heartbeat.

The doctor printed a photo for me and then wiped the gel off. She prescribed me medicine to take and gave me the date of the  next appointment, I thanked her and walked back to my car numbly.

I had no idea how I got home but the next thing I knew I was in my bed crying. How had I not noticed anything…I should have seen the signs. But being so busy with recovering and things not being right between Spencer and I, I had not noticed the lack of my monthly bleed.

“Fuck my life” I whispered out as I continued to cry until I fell asleep.

The following day I decided to tell Spencer as he had the right to know , I stepped into the office and saw everyone standing by our desks with glum faces.

“Sorry I'm late guys” I said and set my bag down. “of course you are late” Spencer snapped at me and I frowned at his hostility towards me.

“Do we have a case?” I asked towards Hotch and he nodded and looked to Spencer. “Yes but it’s a personal one” Hotch said and I wondered what was going on. “I don’t want her on it” Spencer said while looking at me and I was about to argue back but Hotch stood up.

“Reid you know her past in CIA and psychology, she will be good with the case, see things we miss, she stays on” Hotch said and Spencer clenched his jaw and stormed off.

“Okay so what’s happening?” I asked curious to know what personal case Spencer had.

“Spencer have been sort of dating a woman, she has a stalker and is now missing. So we are investigating it as a personal case. Garcia is busy getting info on her as we speak” Hotch said and I frowned as I thought back “Maeve…” I said and everyone looked at me with surprise.

“How did you know her name?” Morgan asked and I felt the nausea hit me. “No it doesn’t matter, he just mentioned it in passing” I said and swallowed hard to keep the vomit down.

The teams headed out while I was sitting with Garcia looking at properties in her name and where she worked. JJ came back in just as things were printed and I picked the one up with her ex fiancé. “Guys were looking for the wrong person, maeve’s face was scratched out in eyeliner.”

I stood up and walked out straight to Spencer to tell him what I noticed on the picture.

“Reid, were looking for a woman” I said to him and he glared at me, “Yes her name is Maeve are you slow today?” he asked me and I glared at him.

“No the unsub, it’s a woman. Maeve’s face was scratched out with eyeliner” I said to him and watched as his eyes went big and he ran to Hotch’s office with me following.

“No, I didn’t mention you at all” Hotch said and Spencer nodded “I know who the unsub is” he said and we all sprang into action to look for Diane. Turns out she had a loft close to Maeve’s and her reason for stalking Maeve was because her paper was declined due to not enough evidence. She wanted to lead a study on cells of the body changing right before suicide but it wasn’t something the university was willing to study. So she wanted to be seen and be just as Maeve, it was an old tale of jealousy.

Garcia was busy hacking the camera that the team saw in Diane’s loft..

“What are you doing?” Rossi asked as Reid wrote something on paper, ‘me for her’ it wrote as he held it up to the camera.

Just then the phone rang and Spencer picked it up and spoke to Maeve. After putting the phone down Spencer grabbed a map of DC and started mapping it out. “She said she has something for me and it’s as easy as pie” Spencer said as he looked over the map.

“Diane wants me to see her as brilliant and the smartest girl in the room” Spencer said and I looked over the map.

“Garcia check for anything in Maeve’s name around this circle and even in Diane’s name or her parents” I said and waited for her to search.

“Spencer I can’t have you in this take down” Hotch said but Spencer shook his head. “If I don’t go in there then maeve is dead” he argued back but Hotch sighed “if I let you then you can die” Hotch said but Spencer was not backing down.

“Hotch we know she wants suicide murder but I can help her, I can give her what she wants” Spencer said full of confidence.

“How?” I asked him as I saw this was not going to end well.

“I’m gonna tell her that I love her” Spencer said just as Garcia found the place they were at. We all climbed into our cars along with swat following us to the destination.

“Wait there’s a box on the steps” I called out as we approached the gate, Spencer picked it up and opened it to reveal a blindfold.

“take your gun and vest off, now come in alone” we heard Diane say over to voice box and we all watched as Spencer did as she said.

“Reid you can’t go in alone” I argued with him and grabbed his arm. “I have to go alone” he said and I felt my heart pounding out of my chest. “What if she kills all three of you, don’t be stupid Spencer, please” I begged him but he wouldn’t listen and pulled his arm out of my grasp. We all watched as he walked in alone.

“Hotch please…I can’t do this” I said to Hotch but he shook his head “Spencer will talk her out of it, he’s good at negotiation” Hotch said and I felt bile rise in my throat from the stress. Morgan stepped up to me and gave me a side hug. “He’ll be okay mama” he said to me and his name of endearment made me pale more. I never got to tell Spencer.

“Morgan I can’t let him die, please” I begged him as we all stood waiting.

A few minutes went by when a gun shot was heard “Fuck this” I said as I opened the gate and proceeded forward.

“Olivia wait…” Hotch called but I didn’t care and heard footsteps behind me, the team was following me.

“Get back, stay back” Spencer said as we stepped into the building. He was on the ground and clutching his shoulder, she shot him. Looking ahead I saw Diane holding Maeve with a gun pointed at us.

“Diane there is still a way out of this” Spencer said pleading to her to drop the gun.

“you never wanted me, you lied” Diane said and Spencer stepped forward “no I made a deal, me for her” Spencer said and Diane turned the gun to Maeve.

“You would do that, you would kill yourself for her?” Diane asked with tears in her eyes as Spencer walked forward slowly.

“yes, yes I would” he said and I saw Diane was close to breaking point so I decided to step forward.

“Diane, listen to me. You are smart and your thesis can help a lot of other people out there, it can save people” I said as I put my gun away and stepped forward.

“Olivia stop” Spencer hissed at me but I stepped forward to talk to her. “Diane you need to understand, you don’t want Spencer. He doesn’t really love Maeve” I tried to argue with her.

“He does, he’s willing to die for her, he never wanted me, only her” she said as she cried and I shook my head.

“No there you are wrong, he doesn’t love her and only want her” I said as I unstrapped my bulletproof vest and threw it to the ground.

“Stop what are you doing” Diane screamed at me and I held up my hands.

“He doesn’t love her, you’ve been stalking her for a while and know that they have been talking for 10 months, but Diane would he cheat on her if he really loved her?” I asked and Spencer frowned at me and Diane looked at me with anger.

“I can prove it to you, he slept with me about three months ago, while they were talking. Diane I’m pregnant with his child, I can show you” I said as I reached for my phone.

“you are lying! He would never do that” she hissed at me, but I logged into the footage that was recorded of the night where Spencer and I was forced to have sex and turned it so Diane could see.

Both her and Maeve gasped and I put my phone away, lifting my shirt to show the small baby bump I looked at her hoping she would back down, to realize Maeve didn’t have him and he didn’t love her.

“You bitch!” Diane screamed and lifted the gun as she pulled the trigger. I felt it enter my collarbone and screamed as I fell back. Morgan checked on me and helped me stand up pushing me behind him incase she tried to shoot again.

“Thomas martin” Maeve said and Diane turned her attention back to Maeve.  “Who’s Thomas martin?” Diane demanded as she looked between Spencer and Maeve.

“He know, he knows” Maeve said as Diane gripped her tighter getting more upset.

“Who is he?” Diane demanded as she got more agitated. “He’s the one thing no one can take away from us” Maeve said looking at Spencer with love in her eyes.

“No…” Diane said as she lifted the gun to her head “Wait!!!” Spencer shouted out as Diane pulled the trigger. The bullet went straight through her head and into Maeve. Killing them both.

Time moved slowly as they both fell and the team lowered their guns in shock, Spencer fell to his knees in grief and shock. I hurried over to him with tears in my eyes.

“Spencer I'm sorry, I thought it would help, I thought she would see you undesirable. Please Spencer” I said as I crouched in front of him.

“Get away from me” he whispered out but I pulled him into a hug, pushing through my pain. “Spencer please forgive me, I'm sorry, I'm sorry” I pleaded to him and felt him push me back, he looked into my eyes and his once joyful full of life eyes were empty.

“I’ll forgive you when you are 6 feet under, like how she’s going to be” Spencer hissed at me and I felt my heart shatter into pieces. I nodded numbly and stood up walking away.

“Let’s get you checked out” Morgan said but I stopped and shook my head “take care of him, the ambulance is downstairs. I’ll be fine” I said and Morgan was about to argue but I gave him a pointed look and he backed off. I looked back one more time to see Spencer sobbing and the team all around him.

I made my way downstairs onto the street and felt the cold air hit me straight in my chest, it felt like I couldn’t breathe but I knew it was shock.

“Miss are you okay?” a voice asked and I looked up to see a paramedic. “Yes they uh, they need you upstairs, an agent was shot” I said to him and he nodded and ran up, not noticing my own wound.

I walked down the street and climbed into one of the suv’s heading straight to my apartment. Once I got there I walked numbly into the apartment and hissed at the pain in my collarbone.  I’ve taken bullets out on my own before and it wouldn’t be a first. I just couldn’t deal with anyone right now. Walking to the kitchen I grabbed a towel and a bottle of vodka and felt the tears stream down my face, I really thought I would help.

“You’ve kept me waiting” a voice said startling me, making me drop the bottle. I turned and saw my stalker standing there, I went to reach for my gun but he knocked it out of my hand and shoved me back. I screamed as I felt the glass enter my back, I saw him stand over me and a sharp pinch in my neck came next, everything started to spin around me and I felt him grab my feet and drag me, through the glass before I blacked out.

[alovesongtheywrote]

holy fuckin shit girl nighmare academia 🤌🤌🤌

thank god for that person who asked for a pt.2, but I must ask for a pt.3 loll

♥ Summary:  here you go, 1000 words of reid scheming against the reader with the help of some familiar faces! [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: morgan and garcia being morgan and garcia, vague mentions of spencer wanting kids, threats of bodily harm at the very end

♥ A/N: yeah, ik the last one of these came out like. today. but im having a lot of fun, so until that stops. have fun with the enemies to lovers professor au

♥ Word Count: 1200

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

“Alright, my sweet brain boy, I’ve got the dirt on the Doctor- not you, the other Doctor.  You know what I mean.”

Spencer nodded- then he, in all of his genius, remembered that Penelope could not see him.

“What did you find?” he asked, pulling his legs up on his office chair.  He hadn’t left the university grounds after his fight with you and his call with Garcia.  You had left.  He was sure of it.  His office window gave him a great view of the parking lot, and hence, a great view of you leaving.  Reid, on the other hand, had stayed inside his office waiting for this second call.

“Well, it looks like you may have some competition in the doctorate department.  Doctor (L/N),” she stressed your title, “Also has three PhDs- one in criminology, one in law, and one in- get this- English Literature.  They’ve written a few really good articles, mostly on crime stuff, but also on Pride and Prejudice.  And oh, their takes on Elizabeth and Darcy- it’s enough to make a girl swoon.”

“Okay,” Spencer sighed.  None of this would help him get back at you- most of it was knowledge he could attain with a casual google search, “What else do you have for me?”

“Well, our dear Doctor is active in the community.  They help ex-cons get GEDs in their spare time, they donate to various charities and nonprofits, they support the local arts. They've got a lot of hobbies, they enjoy Halloween a lot- oh, and their mom is super proud of them.”

“What else, Garcia?”

“They have two cats, a couple siblings, a few nieces and nephews- it looks like they’re good with kids.”

“This isn’t relevant,” Spencer groaned, trying to hide his frustration.  He was looking for ways to get under your skin the way you had gotten under his.  He didn’t need to know every nice thing about you.

“Hey, you want kids, don’t you pretty boy?”  A deep voice that was very much not Garcia’s came over the line.

“Morgan is here, by the way,” at the very least, Penelope had the decency to sound a little embarrassed.

“I can hear that.  How long has he been listening?”

“Long enough to hear that you and this Mystery Professor would make a good match.  I mean, where else are you gonna find someone with three PhDs and a face like that?”

Spencer could hear Garcia’s gasp, even though she had pulled away from the phone.  When she spoke again, her voice was playful, “We’re looking for him, not for you.  What would Savannah say?  What should I say?”

“Easy baby girl, I’m just letting our boy know that I approve.”

“Hold on,” Spencer’s voice broke through the bickering of his former co-workers, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.  I am not interested in (Y/N) (L/N).”

“Oh?  Then whyfore the background check, boy genius?”

“Is something wrong, Reid?”

“No, no, it’s nothing- it’s not like they’re a threat to my safety or anyone’s safety.  They’re just…”

“Just what, kid?”

Spencer drew in a sharp breath, trying to keep his cool.  He had to be calm- collected.  He couldn’t let Derek and Penelope know that you were so deep under his skin, inside the tissue of his brain, that he couldn’t stop thinking about you.  He couldn’t keep his mind from running back to the image of your face, glaring at him as you took the typewriter from his hands.  They would get the wrong idea.  The entire wrong idea.  So, Spencer had to remain cool.

He immediately failed.

“They’re just really fucking annoying, okay!?”

“Damn, kid!  Okay!  What did they do, tell you that Doctor Who was just okay?”

“No, you don’t get it-” Spencer hissed, flopping further into his chair as he proceeded to rant about the entire typewriter thing.  He quoted you word for word, too- of course he did, eidetic memory.  Once he finished, Morgan and Garcia seemed to take on a new understanding of the situation.

“I see!  This wasn’t a love call, but one for information!!  A stockpile of knowledge for devious pranks- that is why you called, right?  You need info for getting back at the lovely Professor?”

“Yes-!  They aren’t lovely, but yes.”

“Kid, anyone who can make you write emails is lovely in Garcia’s book.”

“Listen to your local Morgan, Reid- now, do you have a revenge plot already?”

“Sort of?”  Spencer shared his plans with Garcia, smiling to himself at the sound of her laugh.  His brand of humor didn’t usually get that reaction. 

“Sounds perfect, Reid- I can help with that, but I’m gonna need a secure connection, Dr. (L/N)’s email address, and everything you know about the benefits of handwritten notes.”

Once the plan was fully fleshed out, Spencer hung up the phone and finally, finally made his way out of his office with a rare spring in his step.  His plan was set.  The trap was in place.  Your beloved technology would be your downfall.  As he stepped onto the Metro, he had to keep from cackling like an overdramatic villain.  He was at a high point, and he really didn’t want to be arrested for causing a disturbance.  

Meanwhile, back at Quantico, Morgan and Garica looked at each other, the now silent phone placed between them.

“So, those two are-”

“They are perfect for each other, yes.”

“We’ve gotta help him.”

“Absolutely.  Hey, once they get together, do you think he’ll introduce me?  I want to talk to Dr. (L/N) about their Pride and Prejudice hot takes.”

“Careful, Garcia.  We’re shopping for him, not for you.”

“Hey, I just appreciate a person who can see the true nuances in one Fitzwilliam Darcy!  And I wanna know which film adaptation is their favourite.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Rossi’s voice came from the door of Garcia’s office, “The rest of us have been ready to go for fifteen minutes.  What’s the hold up?”

“Nothing, Rossi.”

“We just found a perfect match for one Spencer Reid.”

“Really?  Interesting.  Tell me more later.  Let’s go.”

-

Two days later, you opened your PowerPoint slides only to find a presentation about the benefits of handwritten notes.  Everything you had in place for that day was gone.  All that was in its place was a genuinely well-crafted presentation about how writing notes by hand was better for attention retention and memorization.  

Honestly, you couldn’t even get that mad.  It was a good presentation.  

Still, you had a reputation to maintain.

You bit your lip and crossed your arms, becoming the picture of barely contained rage.  You took a deep breath, turning to your students and slapping a strained smile across your lips.

“Forgive me, my lovely students, but given this sudden turn of events, I’m just going to cancel class for today.  The correct notes will be on the class website later.”

You made your way to the door, leaving all your belongings behind in your haste, “Enjoy your afternoons, I’m going to go stab Dr. Spencer Reid.  In the throat.  Have a good day!”

A few students gave quiet, confused farewells.  Others leaned over to each other and whispered, “Stabbing is a sex thing, right?”

Technically, they were correct.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Mistake - Part 2

Pairing: Frankie Morales, Santiago Garcia, F!reader

Word Count: 2500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I never planned to write a part 2 for Mistake, but so many people asked me for one, I felt compelled to write it! A HUGE thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for literally saving my ass on this one. Seriously, go thank her and while you’re there, binge her writing!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

Santiago Garcia Masterlist

<<Mistake Part 1<<

It's been 6 weeks since I've talked to Santi or Frankie. I've been begging Santi to talk to me, apologizing to a now full inbox, flooding his phone with texts. He's not as his usual spots whenever I manage to get the courage to try and find him. The guilt has made me physically sick, exhausted all the time from just thinking about it. 

And then there's Frankie. 

As much as I've tried to reach out to Santi, Frankie has tried to reach me. On one hand, it's hard not to talk to him. He's been my best friend since forever. I've been in love with him nearly that entire time, and apparently the feeling is mutual. 

But the way we had to find out was fucked up. 

I never wanted to hurt Santi. I do love him, but if I'm being honest with myself, I didn't love him the way he deserves. It's like he was the closest thing I could get to Frankie. 

Bile rises in my throat, my stomach churning and I run to the bathroom, just barely making it to the toilet before emptying my breakfast into it. It's been like this for a couple of weeks, my guilt taking over my body physically to match the way my heart feels. All I'd need now to top off this fuck me fest is my period-

Wait. When did I have that last?

I whip out my phone, quickly tapping on my calendar app, looking for the red dots indicating the start of my cycle. Once I find them, I quickly count the weeks and realize I'm nearly a month overdue for my period. 

"There's no way."

I skim the calendar, locating the day that we had our combined bachelor/ette parties and…fuck it's totally possible. Fuck fuck fuck!

After I finish vomiting yet again, I manage to get myself out of the house and to the pharmacy up the street, sort of floating through the aisles to pick up a box of pregnancy tests. I silently pay for them and the woman hands me my bag, offering a small smile and a "Good luck," to me under her breath. 

I get home and head straight into the bathroom, determined not to drag this out. I'm just sick from the horrible shit I've put Santi through. That has to be it. My mind goes a million places all at once, until the little timer on my phone goes off. Taking a deep breath, I flip the test over. 

PREGNANT

I stare at the word as it stares back at me, taking several long seconds before I actually take it what I'm seeing. Pregnant. I'm pregnant. There's a baby in me right now. And it's…

There was only 1 person I had sex with at that time, as Santi and I were on a temporary hiatus until after the wedding. 

"Of fucking course!" I yell at the universe, once again throwing a curveball in the path that is my relationship to Frankie.

Frankie. Fuck, what is he going to say? He already has a kid from an ex wife. An ex wife he hates. I don't want to be like her, forcing Frankie into something he doesn't want. But what do I want?

A quick text to my friend and she's coming over for drinks. Well, one of us is drinking anyway. 

—-

"I'm sorry,  you're what??" My friend Olivia spits out, handing me a napkin for the drink she just spit at me.

"Pregnant."

"Yeah I heard you I just…are you sure?"

I nod. "I took several tests. I have my OB appointment next week and-"

"Wait. You're keeping it?"

I take a breath, eyes scanning my living room. "Yeah."

Olivia looks at me. "You think Santi will come back?"

I play with the condensation on my glass of water. "It's Frankie's."

Olivia slams her hand on the table. "What? From that night?"

I nod and she lets out a whistle. "Are you gonna tell him?"

"I don't-"

Suddenly, I hear footsteps on my porch. Confused, as I wasn't expecting anyone, I get up, Olivia following behind me as I open the door. 

"Hey."

My stomach drops completely out as I stare up into the eyes of my ex fiance. 

"S-Santi."

His eyes scan my face, dipping quickly down my body. "Can I come in?"

"I uh.. s-sure."

I step back, allowing Santi to come into my home. He gives me a small smile and holds up his finger. 

"Wait a sec." He looks back out towards my driveway.

I hear more footsteps on my porch and then he's there, curls flipping out from under a hat, hands in his pockets because he doesn't know how to deal with the tension. 

"Come on, man. Don't just stand there." Santi walks past me and grabs his arm, pulling him inside. We all stand there in an awkward silence for several long moments before Santi clears his throat. 

"Can we talk?"

"Y-yeah." 

Santi follows me into the kitchen, Olivia giving me a questioning look as I pass her. I honestly have no idea what's going on and am having a hard time processing everything that's happening. I offer Santi a drink, but he declines, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. 

"I'm sorry," Santi says with extreme sincerity. 

Well that was unexpected.

"What?"

"I've been thinking these last few weeks and I've realized a lot of shit. I love you, querida, and I always will. But I think I loved the idea of you more."

"Again, what?"

"Look, I… I won't lie. When I saw you there with Frankie…that fucking hurt. I mean destroyed me." He puts a hand out as I open my mouth to apologize. 

"Just let me talk… anyway, I realized through the pain that what I was missing most was a wife, the commitment to someone to start a life with. Not you, exactly. I mean it…it still fucking hurts, but I'm not… I'm not mad. Anymore.” He takes a moment to gather himself and me? I’m just…I have no words.

“Querida, you deserve someone who loves you for you. Who wants to be with you and not just because it’s easy. Frankie is that. No, don’t look at me like that, he is. I… I knew he was in love with you, even with all the shit that happened with Claire, and I knew how you felt. It wasn’t hard to figure out - you’re both idiots.” He chuckles a little sadly and I feel tears starting to burn at the corners of my eyes. “I really should have never pursued you, but when Frankie got Claire pregnant and then married her, you looked so sad and I just…I wanted to take care of you. Take that hurt away-”

“And you did! You-”

“That’s good to know…Anyway, I reached out to Frankie and he tells me you aren’t talking to him? That you hate him?”

I dab furiously at my eyes, trying to get them to stop leaking, but I nod. “He lied, Santi. We both did. He knew I was c-calling your n-name and he k-kept going. And I f-figured out w-what I was d-doing and started c-calling out his n-name, and I just, Santi I am s-so s-s-sorry, and n-now I c-can’t s-stop c-crying!”

Santi swallows hard, then closes the distance between us, wrapping me in his arms, letting me soak his shirt as my shoulders shake. He shushs me, rocking me slightly to get me to calm down. Eventually, I do, somehow managing to contain myself and these pregnancy hormones.

Ah, fuck. The pregnancy. Do I tell Santi? No, I have to talk to Frankie first. 

“Querida, you have to talk to Frankie.”

I look up at him, pushing away from him and wiping my eyes. “No. I-I can’t.”

“If you’re worried about me, don’t be. I didn’t go through all of this self discovery to not have the 2 most important people in my life be together when they’re so very obviously still in love with each other.”

“Santi, I cheated on you with him. I can’t just forget-”

“Look. It wouldn’t have happened if it were anyone else and I know that. I knew better and I shouldn’t have asked you out. Just…talk to him? For me?” He raises his eyebrows at me until I agree. He smiles, giving me one last hug and kissing the top of my head.

I’m still not sure what’s happening, not entirely. Santi showing up and forgiving me was not on my bingo card for this lifetime.

Santi turns and walks out of the kitchen and I follow him, walking into the living area where Olivia and Frankie were making idle chit chat.

“Hey Fish, I’m gonna head out. It’s all good- no. You stay here.” Santi glances up at Olivia and his entire demeanour changes, like he just noticed, really noticed she was here. 

“Oh. Uh, yeah I’m heading out too,” Olivia says, meeting Santi’s gaze. “And you can take me to dinner. I’m starving.”

Santi smiles at her. “I’d love to.”

They leave, Frankie and I staring in shock at the closed door for several moments before I shake my head, moving to lock the door. I take a breath and turn around to see Frankie standing there, nervously shifting from foot to foot, lifting the hat from the top of his head and running his fingers through his hair.

Fuck he’s so hot.

“Did…did Santi tell you everything?”

I nod, my arms wrapping around myself. “He did.”

“Kind of wild, wasn’t it?”

“I mean, whatever works for him. He seems to be doing ok.”

“Yeah.”

Silence stretches between us for several long moments. 

“Hermosa, I- I’m sorry. Really. I shouldn’t have…I should’ve stopped-”

I sigh. “Yeah, but I knew, Frankie.”

“You what?”

“When you left, I started remembering more. At first I thought you were Santi but I did realize it at some point and then just…changed to saying your name. I wasn’t thinking straight because I love you, and then-”

Frankie’s eyes snap to mine. “You love me?”

“I-” I look at him. Time to confess everything.

“I..do.”

Frankie smiles, but then remembers we’re supposed to be serious, so he drops it. “I love you too.”

I study his face, the worry in his eyes, the patches in his beard. I have to tell him, even if it pushes him away. 

"Come sit with me?" I ask nervously, moving around to sit on the couch.

"Yeah. Yeah, ok." Frankie sits next to me, smoothing out his pants several times before settling. 

Fuck, this is hard. 

"Hermosa, I-"

"I'm pregnant."

Frankie freezes, mouth open mid word as his brain tries to process what I said. 

"P-pregnant?"

I nod. "Yup."

Several long moments pass between us, the air charged with tension. 

"Well…I.. I hope you and Santi can.. get back together. For the… the baby."

My eyebrows pinch together, my head slightly cooking to the side. "What?"

"Santi. I mean, I know he said he loves the idea of you more, but I think, or hope that would change with you carrying his child."

Oh. He doesn't realize.

"No, Frankie. It's not… the baby is yours."

His eyes grow wide, searching my face for a lie. "Wh-what? Are you sure?"

I nod. "Santi and I had promised no, uh, no sex for the month leading up to the wedding. So-"

"That night."

I nod. "Yup." I emphasize the p sound. 

"Listen, Frankie, I've thought about it a lot and… I'm keeping the baby. And you can be as involved as you want or not involved-" 

To my surprise, he's smiling, growing wider by the second and his eyes are all watery, like he's holding back tears. 

"Frank-"

"We're having a baby?"

"Yes. But did you hear-"

"Together? You and I?"

"Yes, that's what I said. Frankie, are you listening to-"

He lets out a small laugh, the smile lighting up his whole face and I swear he chokes back a "whoop". He takes my hand in his and the warmth from it immediately starts to calm me. His other hand comes up to the side of my face, his large fingers curving around the back of my head as his thumb softly rubs at the skin of my cheek. His eyes move between mine and then down to my lips and before I can think, he's in front of me, our lips just barely out of reach.

"Can I kiss you?" Frankie whispers, and I can't think of anything else besides how much I want him.

"Yes."

His lips push against mine gently, his fingers tightening their grip as he increases the pressure, sliding his tongue into my willing mouth. 

"Wait." I push back from him and he trails after me, eyes confused. 

"Did I hurt you?"

"No but Frankie, I think we need to talk about the baby in my uterus."

"What's there to talk about?"

My eyebrow raises. "Seriously?"

He smiles, nodding. "I'm all in, hermosa. Always. As much as you'll have me or want me to be."

"But you already have a daughter with someone else."

"So our baby will have a sister already."

"What about Claire?"

Anger flashes in his eyes. "What about her?"

"Will she be ok with this?" I gesture to my stomach. "With us?"

"I don't give a fuck what she thinks of us- wait. There's an us?"

"I-I-" Time to throw your last card on the table, the one you'd never lay down if it wasn't for Santi giving you permission.

"If.. if you don't think me and the baby would cramp your style."

He laughs, smiling wide for a few seconds before his eyes get a little darker, his voice dropping an octave or two.

"I'd put a hundred babies in you if you'd let me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I love you, Hermosa."

—-

With Santi's enthusiastic insistence, we get married a few months after our son is born.

And Santi marries Olivia the following year, starting on that life he always wanted. 

-------

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