#jamie bell x reader

[supercap2319]

"Y/N?" Ben asked, walking towards the son of Hades and Chernabog.

"Yes?"

"Lonnie's mother would like to meet you. She's visiting Lonnie for a few days, and she'd like to speak with the man who stole the heart of her dearest godson." Ben explains.

"I...I...I'm honored, but...."

Ben frowns slightly. "But what? Is something wrong? Talk to me." He pats a nearby bench for them to both sit. Y/N sits down and sighed before looking at Ben.

"As much as I would like to meet Fa Mulan, I don't think it's a good idea. After all, I am my dads kid. I'm a villain, Ben, and I'm—"

"You're nothing like your parents, and neither am I. Oh, Y/N. When are you going to see yourself the way I do?" Ben asked, placing a gentle kiss on Y/N's cheek.

The young man blushed hard as Ben took his hand into his and lifted him up. "Come on. I promise you'll love it."

[rqgnarok]

more than just a short time — jamie whelan

fandom: law & order organized crime

wc: 2,579 

warnings: SPOILERS for the season finale of law & order organized crime, canonical character death, canon mention of hospitals and violence. very self deprecating talk from a disabled character. ANGST. ANGST, ANGST, ANGST. female!reader

summary: Can someone be a widow if their partner only ever planned to propose?

author’s note at the end.

Jamie doesn’t wanna see her.

She’s on her way up, Bobby tells him gently. Jamie wishes the surge of relief that courses through him wasn’t mixed up with the abhorrent need to send her away, be as rude as possible to have her leave the room before she comes to terms with what he’s become.

He doesn’t. Jamie nods at Reyes and licks his lips. He feels his eyes burn when the door opens to (Y/N) walking in, clutching the strap of her purse like it’s a lifeline, eyes wide and terrified and determined all at once. Bobby cups her elbow in silent support as he leaves the room, and Jamie swallows the mean words that try to climb up his throat at the sight of someone else doing what he can’t; comfort her, touch her, be the steadiness she needs in a moment of chaos.

Neither of them speaks as they’re left alone, a bubble of something-not-quite-peace enveloping them and making the outside world a mere blur at the other side of the doors. It’s only them and the ticking clock, the smell of alcohol and disinfectant, and the lack of color and life one expects from this specific wing at Bellevue. 

They’d met in a bar around four years ago. Jamie had just made detective and some of his buddies at the four-nine were adamant about at least buying him some drinks in celebration. Just after finishing his first beer, another one had been delivered to the table, the waiter pointing to where (Y/N) was sitting at the bar, smile sheepish and face flushed at being caught. 

She’d heard them celebrating and figured there was no harm in inviting the next round. Jamie leaned into her space with a charming grin and said something stupid about being harmed by meeting someone so beautiful and not asking for their name. To this day (Y/N) calls it the worst pickup line she’s ever heard, but it got him a laugh and a date that very same weekend. 

It’s been good. It’s been great – the last time Jamie was so infatuated by someone he’d been thirteen and crushing after the next-door neighbor. He fell so hard for (Y/N) and simply kept falling as they moved in together before their second anniversary and started looking for rings a couple of months before he transferred to Organized Crime.

The development of their relationship has been both a whirlwind and the most obvious thing Jamie’s ever lived through. Of course he was supposed to meet her. Of course he fell in love with her from the very first night. He hasn’t been able to imagine his life without her since their first date. 

Jamie doesn’t want her here. Jamie needs her by his side. These are two things that have to coexist now, his new reality far from the idea he had for the rest of his life.

He doesn’t tell her to go.

“Hi, sweetheart,” (Y/N) talks first, breaking the silence and the distance between them all at once as if snapping out of a spell. She drops her things in the chair left behind by Bobby and is by his bed in an instant, hands hovering all over him like she’s unsure of what parts of him she can touch without hurting him. 

Jamie wills for his fingers to twitch, for his hand to wake the fuck up and reach for her, help her cross those last few inches she isn’t daring to do on her own. 

He remains limp against the bed. (Y/N) finally touches him, her fingers against his cheek. It’s enough for Jamie to shudder with a cry, turning his head so he can soak in the touch. She’s warm and steady against his skin and Jamie mourns his situation for the hundredth time in the last hour.

“Jamie,” she says, murmured and weepy. Jamie’s eyes close in agony but it feels too much like being dead already, so he opens them again. The sight that greets him is devastating: his almost-fiánce-never-to-be-wife, asking him for something he can’t give her. The lifetime together he’s been waiting to promise in his proposal has gone up in smoke in the blink of an eye.

It was the right thing to do. Jamie knew– not even the blinding pain that shocked through his nerves had been enough of a distraction to the urgency in Stabler’s voice– that the second Kyle died, the chance to put down Shadowerk would go with him. 

There really was nothing he could’ve done. The bullet had reached his spine the moment it entered his body. He was dead the second he walked into that godforsaken camp.

But (Y/N) hadn’t known that when she kissed him goodbye that morning. She’d stood on her tippy toes and wrapped her arms around his neck and joined their mouths together, tasting of toothpaste and languidly using her tongue to make him late for work.

“Hi,” he says, voice dry, trying not to sound as miserable as he is and failing. 

He’d already canceled a vacation on her earlier that week. A pre-honeymoon, he’d started calling it in his mind, maybe finally the right time to propose. He worries for a ridiculous moment if (Y/N)’s gonna be able to get a refund out of that, fretting terribly for what’ll happen to her after he’s gone.

He knows she can take care of herself but she’s not supposed to have to. Not while he’s alive and breathing.

Jamie’s overcome with how badly he wishes he’d called in sick. That he let (Y/N) drag him back to bed like she almost did and throw caution to the wind, burrow himself in her arms and her laugh, and leave the curtains drawn shut, embracing the safety of the darkness. He was so afraid of letting Bell and Stabler down, of having Reyes go out there without someone that cared for him watching his back, and where did that get him?

Without his body. Without a future with the love of his life.

The love of his life who can never find out what he asked of Bobby. Even if she loves him enough to do it for him– Jamie loves her too much to even ask. He won’t do that. He’s already planning on making her a widow, having her do it is just cruel. He made a promise a long time ago that he wouldn’t let the job make him someone he didn’t recognize and he’s not about to start bailing on it now.

Can someone be a widow if their partner only ever planned to propose? Jamie almost suggests they get a priest in here and use Bobby as a witness, but (Y/N) deserves better than that. And she’ll find it someday, Jamie’s sure of it, with an accountant or a banker or someone with a boring job who doesn’t leave the house to get shot at and get paid too little for it. 

“My day sucked,” he jokes weakly despite the inner monologue that’s rushing through his brain, trying to get her to smile and his voice cracking with emotion in the process. (Y/N) struggles with it but she manages an upward tilt of the lips, eyes wet. 

His pretty girl, so fucking resilient.

“I bet,” she tells him. She doesn’t stop touching him, which Jamie appreciates as much as he does the effort at light conversation. “Office coffee was that bad, huh.” 

Jamie’s laugh turns into a sob so quickly that he reasons it wasn’t really ever a laugh. His fragile good humor is gone in an instant, lip wobbling and features scrunching in agonized despair.

“I’m sorry,” he cries earnestly and without restraint for the first time since his mom died, probably. He shuts his eyes but it does nothing to stop the flow once it's started and (Y/N) can’t wipe all his tears fast enough. “We should’ve gone on vacation, I shouldn’t have gone to work at all, I’m so sorry–”

“Hey,” she cuts him off, equally as devastated. “Honey, it’s alright, it’s okay. You were doing the right thing, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

He keeps apologizing anyway, fervently. Jamie isn’t strong enough to stop when (Y/N) starts to cry, too. She just holds him as best she can while they cry together. “You don’t deserve this, you don’t need less than half a–”

“You’re alive,” (Y/N) insists fiercely through tears. Jamie doesn’t tell her how this can’t be much of a life. “You came home to me, baby. That’s all that matters to me, you understand?”

Jamie hums an affirmative and keeps crying, and (Y/N) keeps soothing her fingers over his cheeks, his mouth, his temple, his hair. Jamie’s tremendously grateful for her, even if the need to make himself small and let (Y/N) hold him will never be satisfied again. 

“You’re not half of anything,” she continues to reassure him without room for discussion. “You’re my everything. My whole entire life, Jamie–”

“I kept thinking of you,” he weeps, his breaths coming fast and hurried without the usual feeling of his abdomen pulling with the force of his grief. “All the time I’m out there, all I do is think of you, and I thought this time, I– I– I–”

She says his name helplessly, pressing a fervent kiss to his temple while some of her tears fall into Jamie’s hair, her breath stuttering. (Y/N) wraps herself around him as best she can without disturbing his injuries and the machines that are keeping him alive, leaving her in a most awkward position she doesn’t complain about once. Jamie’s love for her is too strong to be contained inside his body.  

“I love you,” he tells her after enough time has passed that Jamie’s almost certain he won’t break into another sob. His voice quivers but that’s about it, and he thinks he’s allowed. (Y/N)’s fingers tremble against his temple. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” she answers without hesitation, her voice a little shaky, too. She scratches at his hair and Jamie’s shiver is cut down to his neck. “I love you, baby, and we’re gonna be alright. We’re gonna be okay.”

“I don’t think we’ll make it to Alaska,” he tries not to scoff in disappointment because he knows (Y/N) won’t like it, and she proves him right when she purses her lips like she does when trying to convince herself not to slap him in the back of the head.

“Don’t be stupid,” she says, but it’s so, so soft it sounds like a term of endearment. Idiot, like honey, sweetheart, baby . “I don’t care about that. We can get shitfaced and take pictures with your thumb on the lens at home, you know.”

“Hey,” he says, trying and failing not to think about wedding rings at the bottom of champagne glasses or hidden in chocolate mousse cakes. He’s always made fun of people who think proposing with a choking hazard is a good idea but Jamie now aches for that stupidity, that normalcy that won’t ever be for him. He refuses to propose in a hospital room when he can’t even put a ring on her hand himself. “We probably won’t get a refund out of that.”

“That’s okay,” (Y/N) soothes. Nothing is, but Jamie lets her try. Maybe she’ll have better luck at pretending than he did. “I don’t mind.” 

They fall into silence and he almost goes to sleep under her hands, pacified to unconsciousness half due to exhaustion and half due to her presence: the calm in the middle of the storm. Jamie isn’t mad anymore, can’t be when she’s got him wrapped around her finger.

“I love you,” he can’t tell her enough, sleepy and quiet. The rush of air she lets out is the only indication that (Y/N) heard him. 

Breathing’s getting harder, already a chore, and now the thought of the device running out of batteries or accidentally disconnecting from where it's keeping him alive makes him anxious. (Y/N)’s worried, he can tell even if she almost never voices it because she refuses to make him feel guilty about doing the job he loves. Jamie wishes she’d tell him off, scream and cry at him and not bottle it all up. It’ll only be worse when he–

He says, "Want every day with you," with sharp breaths between each word because he's too exhausted to say I want to spend the rest of my life with you. There's a ring in my locker at the station that I've been waiting for the right moment to give to you. He doesn't say, every moment is right when we're together and I'm sorry I'm only realizing that when I’m unable to breathe on my own.

(Y/N) smiles, shaky and watery, and the most gorgeous sight Jamie’s seen in his life. She knows, and Jamie knows she does. The knot that had built up the whole time he'd struggled to stay awake, waiting for her in this hospital bed, loosens.

It’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna be alright, even if she’ll miss him. She’ll grieve and move on knowing, without a doubt, that Jamie loved her like he’s never loved anyone before. It’s enough for him. He can only hope it’s enough for her, too. 

“Honey,” she rouses him gently from an accidental slumber hours later, the sun that gave little light to the room now gone behind the horizon, (Y/N)’s fingers still caressing his face. She looks exhausted and worried and the most beautiful Jamie’s ever seen her. Her smile is brittle and shaky. “Your dad’s here. I didn’t want to wake you up, but–”

“‘s okay,” he tells her. “Can you give us a few minutes?”

“Sure,” she says softly, hesitation clouding her features only for a second before she’s leaning in for a kiss, firm and lingering. Jamie exhales into it, something in his chest unfurling at the touch. He hadn’t realized they hadn’t kissed yet. “I’ll bring him in.”

“Wait,” he says, managing a boyish grin with lidded eyes. “Do that again.”

(Y/N)’s smile is bright, and Jamie’s glad to taste it when she goes in for another kiss on his mouth and then moves on to his cheek, his nose, his chin, his forehead. “Insatiable.”

“You love it.”

“God help me, I do,” she pats his chest carefully. “Let me go get your dad before he wonders what we’re doing in here.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, and once last time because he can’t help himself. “I love you.”

(Y/N) turns from where she already had one foot out the door, expression tender. “I love you back. See you in a minute.”

Later, after crying in the safety of his dad’s presence like a little boy and saying his goodbyes, Jamie closes his eyes as his breaths begin to recede. The shrill sound of his heart monitor, the panic that takes over the room when he stops breathing, he’s aware of none of it. 

Behind his lids isn’t death, but the Northern Lights and (Y/N) underneath them, showered in colors and smiling at him like she did that first night in a bar, young and unknowing. She offers him her hand and Jamie takes it. Nothing hurts.

 ________

this fic snuck up on me ngl but the season finale fucking wrecked me. i’m still thinking about writing a fix it.

short (considering my standards lol) and somewhat sweet? hope you enjoyed and if u want tell me what u think!

<3 

masterlist / ao3 / buy me a coffee

[stefanmikaleson1864]

0802

Requested by the lovely @sirishavenigalla​

I Really hope you enjoy this and it was worth the wait !!! 

So you know the Jamie Whelan x Indian American reader, I was watching the episode had this idea that Aditya could Diya Laghari’s brother and the reader is engaged to him ( She’s on the verge of ending their engagement). They have their differences because being Indian American she supports Ukraine, she understands why India has to remain neutral from a political sense . She’s witness to the bombing and the fact Diya steals Equipment that’s dangerous . Not only is she roped in to this entire mess she has to face her Jamie her ex who still has feelings for her ( and is carrying around an engagement ring )and whom she still feelings for and oh the fact that pissed of and hurt when he find she’s engaged and the team hid it from him in worry that his feelings would compromise the case

Y/N’s POV 

Everything was just falling apart. You knew what you had to do you couldn’t just bring yourself to do it

. It was just another thing on your plate. It was filling up so fast that you couldn’t take anything off. Things with your fiance was on it’s last leg and you couldn’t bare to break it off. 

You just felt like a failure. Your previous relationship with Jame didn’t really work out. You always had feelings for him. But when things got real you backed out like you always do. It was just easier to back out before you got hurt. 

Then you meant Aditya and he was okay on paper. He a job and he was safe. You didn’t not have feelings for him. 

He was nice and he was comfortable but he just never gave you those feelings. That passion that made you feel alive. 

There was also the different in opinions. You wanted to do the right thing but he just never saw your way of thing.

 You understood the political side of staying neutral but you couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. 

Especially when it came to Diya. you knew he was stealing equipment and you knew it was going to end up in the wrong hands. People could get hurt and you pleaded with him to stand down. 

But he wouldn’t budge he just kept telling you to stay out of it. That’s what a women should do just stand behind her man and listen. God how did you ever let yourself this thing was safe. 

There was a bad feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t shake. You knew if something was going to happen it was going to happen soon.

But you had to do something. Sitting back and pretending like it wasn’t happening wasn’t any good with you anymore. 

So you had a meeting with the FBI today. You didn’t know how it was going to go but you had to at least try.

 You were nervous heading in thinking of all the different scenarios that could potentially happen. 

You walked out to the apartment and tried to push all the bad thoughts away. You didn’t need to convince yourself not to talk. 

You made your way to the car when there was suddenly a loud boom. It knocked you off your feet and you think you may have lost consciousness for a moment because things were black. When you opened up your eyes everything hurt.

Your ears were ringing and everything was blurry. There was screaming and some fire coming out of your car. It was hard to process everything that was going on. 

You tried your best to get up but a voice told you to stay put. 

“Hey hey be careful stay here” The man said. 

You ignored his request and you sat up sitting on the curb. 

“Who the hell are you” You asked not sure why you said it with a tone. 

“Detective Elliot Stabler Organized crime” He said 

“And what are you doing here detective” You asked. 

“Long Story Let’s go” He said. 

He helped you up and you almost instantly fell down because your knees were so shaky. He helped lift you back up and you leaned on him for help. He pulled you to a car and put you in the back. 

“Drive “ Was all he said. 

“What the hell is going on and you need to tell me where the hell your taking me” You said. 

“Okay calm down I’m not kidnapping you i’m taking you back to my office i guess you could call it” Stabler said 

“No okay I have somewhere I have to be” You said 

“The FBI you mean” He said 

“How do you know that” You asked getting upset he wasn’t giving you answers and he did in fact kidnap you. 

He didn’t say anything after that he just gave you a little laugh. You decided to drop it because in fact he was not going to give you any answers you were looking for. 

You all drove for a little bit before reaching your destination. Elliot got out and you followed right behind him. You were still hurt but the adrenaline was just taking over at this point.

You followed him into this building and you were looking around trying to figure out what the hell was going on. 

Everyone was just doing  their own thing there was a girl on the computer. And some people at a desk. When he yelled they all turned around to look at him and then saw me and gave me a surprised look when they saw me. 

“Hey what’s going on here” Some lady in a blazer and long braids asked. 

“Look i know it wasn’t the plan but i guess by now you heard about the bombing” Elliot said. 

“We just got word but still you had other options” She said

“We really don’t not anymore” Stabler said. 

“Why don’t we all stop and tell me what the hell is happening” You said getting angrier. 

“First off Ayanna Bell and this is Jet Slootmakers with Detecive Bobby Reyes” She said. 

“And you are  Diya Laghari’s fiance.” She said 

“Okay and” You said. 

“We been following your fiance  for the past couple months and that also means we’ve been following you” She said 

“Well does he have to do with me” You asked 

“We know your a good person who wants to do the right thing.” Bell said 

“We know you had a meeting with FBI but you can’t trust those guys okay. They always got someone in their pockets” Stabler said. 

You were about to say something when a way to familiar voice entered the room. 

“What the hell is going on” Jamie yelled 

You scrunched up your face and got tense. You had no idea what the hell he was even doing here. 

“Listen Jamie we need her” Sgt Bell Said. 

“No there’s gotta be another way.” He said 

“What ever the hell is happening put it aside we got a dangerous criminal with dangerous epuipment out there. She’s our only way of making sure no one else gets hurt” Stabler said. 

Jamie had now walked more into the room and he just kind of looked at you. He was upset you could tell. It had to be hard for him no doubt it was hard on you to. 

You gave him a soft look and when he took a moment to see how messed up you were he could see the worry in his eyes. 

“I’ll do it okay I wanna help I don’t want anyone getting hurt” You said softly to him. 

Jamie was about to say something then he just stopped and looked at your ring. You could see the hurt in his eyes. 

“I didn’t know you were” Jamie started 

“I thought you were watching me” You said to him giving him a confused look 

“We kept him out of it we knew about your guy’s past” SGT Bell said. 

“Makes sense” You said. 

“Excuse me” Jamie said. 

He walked out of the room 

“I’ll talk to him” Stabler said.

Something in you knew it had to be you. He wasn’t gonna listen to anyone else. 

“I got this” You said. 

You walked out the room and was tailing behind Jamie 

“Hey wait up” You yelled. 

He opened up the door and went outside. The door almost slammed in your face but you were able to grab it last minute. 

“Hey talk to me” You said 

Jamie turned around and gave you a hard look. One you only knew he had when was pissed. 

“What the hell” He asked

“Listen it’s a long story” You said

“Bullshit we only been broken up a year and half and now your already engaged to some other man.” Jamie said fuming. 

“We broke up I don’t have to follow your timeline on what you think should happen” You said yelling. 

“Now why don’t you address what this is really about” You said 

“Why him why the hell would you wanna be with someone like that” Jamie asked 

“I didn’t know he was like that okay not at first then i got in to deep and i’m trying okay I’m trying to get out” You said your voice breaking. 

Jamie softened up when he saw you like that. 

“Why didn’t you want to be with me anymore we had everything going for us” He asked. 

“I just had some stuff going on. Okay and it was just complicated” You said 

“Complicated for you not for me” Jamie said in a soft tone. 

You opened your mouth to say something when Stabler ruined the moment. 

“Guys sorry to break up this little lover moment but we got something” He said. 

You both just looked at each other and walked inside. Everyone was no gathered around Jet’s desk looking at their computer. 

“What’s going on” Jamie asked 

“We got word that  a bomb threat came in at the courthouse it looks like it could be legit” Jet said. 

“Makes sense Diya’s competition is on trial today. He was worried they might talk” You said 

“Were get bomb squad down there right away” Sgt Bell said. 

“I’ll go too if he’s there maybe I can help” You said 

“No its to dangerous” Jamie said 

“I can take care of myself” You said. 

“She’s right she could know something that might help us” Reyes said. 

“I’m going with her” Jamie said. 

“Yea” Sgt bell said just nodding to. She knew it would be a losing battle to say something.

They all knew he was still in love with you. Even if you did break his heart. 

“Let’s head out” Elliot said.

You all walked out and you and Jamie walked side by side together. You got in his car and it was just the two of you. 

“I’m sorry I really am” You said to him 

“I know” Was all Jamie could get out. 

He sped down to the courthouse as fast as he could. 

When you got there you could tell something was happening. Bomb Squad and Swat were there helping to evacuate people. You knew that something was already reported otherwise they wouldn’t have gotten their before Y’all. 

You and Jamie got out and you both walked over to a officer to see what was going on. 

“Detective Whelan what’s going on” He asked. 

“A court house reporter said they saw a suspicous looking package inside the courtroom.” The officer said. 

You knew what you had to do. Diya never showed you himself how the bombs worked but you were in enough rooms when they talked about it to figure it out. 

“I’m going in what courthouse number” You asked 

“What no way in hell” Jamie said grabbing your arm 

“I can help I’ve been in the room where these people talked about how they work” You said 

You looked at the officer again 

“Now tell me what room number is is” You asked 

“13 Ma’am” Was all the officer said. 

You ripped your arm away and ran in Jamie right behind you. You made you way to the courtroom your heart beating fast and legs shaking. 

“Hey right here” Jamie said 

You turned around and took a deep breath before heading in. 

You walked in and turned your head and saw the package. It looked familiar you knew it needed a combinnaiton to defuse it. 

You walked over to it and slowly opened up the box. Jamie was right behind you. 

“It needs a number combination to stop it” You said looking up at him. Your hands were shaking. 

He grabbed your hands and gave it a squeeze.

“You can do this I believe in you just think about it what numbers mean something to him” Jamie asked. 

“I don’t know he’s a weird guy maybe his birthday” You said 

“Nah come on think of something else” Jamie said. 

You looked at the timer it had 2 minutes and counting. 

“What about my birthday” You guessed. 

Jamie just looked at you and shook his head. 

The clock seemed like it was moving super fast. You were down to under a minute now. So you took a deep breath and thought of it. 

“HIs first business deal the one he closed on he talks about it all the time” You said yelling. 

“Yes yes” Jamie said 

Your hands shaking you put the numbers in. 0802

The numbers started going faster and Jamie lunged over and grabbed you close. You laid into them to afraid to speak or breath. 

The timer made a noise and your heart stopped beating. Preparing for the worst. 

After a minute when nothing happened you and Jamie both let go and looked at each other. You looked over at the bomb. It had stopped at exactly one second and you both took a giant breath of relief . 

You both looked at each other and started laughing and crying tears of joy. You didn’t even think about what happened next. 

You lunged and kissed him and he kissed you back hard. You smiled in his face and you could tell he was smiling back at you. 

After the kiss broke he looked at you with a face you hadn’t seen in a while. Happiness. 

You put your hand on his leg and looked at him confused when you felt a box.

“What is that” You asked.

Jamie just kind of put his head down and you could tell he was upset 

“Hey what is it” You asked 

He just reached into his pocked and pulled out a ring box. You let out a loud gasp and grabbed it out of his hands. 

“Is this what I think it is” You asked 

“I’ve been carrying it around this whole time” Jamie said looking up at you tears in his eyes. 

“Omg i had no idea why” You asked 

“ i didn’t wanna let you go” He said. 

You grabbed his hands  and gave them a squeeze. 

“I was scared of getting hurt. I love you so much and I was afraid of the risk Diya was safe or well I thought he was. You didn’t deserve that” You said 

“You didn’t say that in the past tense” Jamie said 

“Said what” You asked 

“I love you” He looked up and smiled at you. 

“That’s because I never stopped. “You said 

He smiled and leaned in and kissed you. You kissed him back softly the same butterflies coming back as they never left. 

“Well i hate to break this up but stop messing up my crime scene” Stabler said 

You both pulled apart laughing. He helped you up and you looked at Elliot 

“Sorry” You said 

“Yea yeah get going” He said smiling. 

You both walked out Jamie had thrown his hand over you. 

You walked out the courthouse and the fresh air never felt so good.  You looked down at your hands which were still shaking. 

You looked at the ring on it and pulled it off. You tossed it into the trash can.

Jamie saw and smiled and kissed the top of your head. 

“Good thing you got something better to replace it” He said 

“Hell yeah I do” You said 

No more taking it easy. Jamie was worth every risk possible. 

[simphq]

Follow my Wattpad as im writing a Taron Egerton fanfic ❤️

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[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

STOPPPPP I WANNA MAKE OUT WITH HIM IN A POOL

belle i love u so bad 😭 this is so cute and sexy and adorable and summery!

𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁? 𝗶 𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘀𝗼!- 𝘀.𝗿.

wc- 5k

pairing- later seasons!spencer reid x plus size!liason!reader

summary- rossi throws a pool party for the team and spencer has a very difficult time keeping his eyes off the new bau hire

warnings- alcohol consumption, it’s late seasons spencer but the og team is there cuz i said so 😚 dating experiences as a bigger girl (mentioned), insecurities as a bigger girl mentioned, but we’re on the self love healing journeyyy 🌈✨🩷, spencer’s a teensy bit insecure of his post prison bod, so much sexual tension??, cute team antics with the girls!!!! making out!!!!!! so much making out!!!!!! touching!!!!! a lil grinding!!!! but no fr fr smut sry yall im a teacher

a/n- besides the fact that the reader is plus size and a woman, there are no other physical descriptors in this fic :D pic is just for bikini reference 😚 dividers from @saradika-graphics !!

you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this relaxed. your skin shines under the golden warmth of the sun, your head spins just slightly from the frozen daiquiris you and penelope have been drinking all afternoon, you’re in your new favorite bikini- hot pink floral print with a matching sarong draped over your hips. your perch yourself on your boss’ teakwood chaise lounge in the midst of his crowded backyard, one of david rossi’s infamous pool parties in full swing.

you lean back and sip your drink, head turning towards commotion at the front gate. cheers and happy greetings are exchanged as someone enters, though you can’t see who behind the partygoers who’ve gathered to say hello. your large sunglasses thankfully disguise the anxiety laced in your gaze, a knot tightening in your stomach when you see who’s arrived- spencer reid. he’s become quite elusive in your time at the bureau, seeing as you were hired on while he was wrongfully imprisoned. he barely talks to you, won’t do so much as look at you when there’s not a case. you still think he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

his silence is never offensive, just reserved. when you’d first met him, he was stunned at the fact that they’d hired someone new in his absence, very untrusting of outsiders since his time behind bars. it’s understandable, you’d probably react the same way if you were in his shoes. you can’t help but long for his affection, his friendship. hell, you’d take a civil conversation by the coffee pot at this point if it meant getting to know more about the dr. spencer reid.

you see the way he moves with ease throughout the swarm of people at the gate, greeting him with open arms and wide smiles. he’s comfortable as he responds to these people, you can tell from his relaxed shoulders to the smile lines arching his cheeks. you ache to be a part of that, down to the bone.

you shift in your seat, gaze turning to your lap as you awkwardly sip your drink. his presence burns into your stomach, looming over you like a ghost haunting a child in the night. he floats across the pool deck, his shadow leading to the very center-the prime tanning location, penelope insisted- where you two still lay on your chairs.

“spencer!!” penelope squeals, jumping up to give him a hug.

“hey, penelope,” you hear him breathe out, hushed and tender, lips pressed to her forehead.

you adjust yourself to sit up, your feet now slipping into your sandals laid out on the concrete. your palms lay flat on the tops of your thighs as you fidget in your seat. awkwardness twists up your insides as penelope finally lets go of the man, his bright smile fading into a soft grin.

“hi,” he chirps, and it’s the most animated you’ve ever heard his voice. it’s nice, like the soft ring of birds early in the morning.

“hello, dr. reid,” the formality slips off your tongue before you can remember you’re not at work. the title pushes a laugh from deep in his chest, the apples of his cheeks tinting pink.

“oh! oh no, it’s- you can call me spencer,” he presses his lips together in an endearing half smile.

“ok…spencer,” you try the name out. it’s sweet on your tongue, absorbing the flavor of him like a hard candy. you wonder briefly if there are any other sweet parts of spencer that you can sink your teeth into.

you shake out the thought as quickly as it came, once again fidgeting in your chair so you’re facing the pool, and not your intimidatingly tall coworker.

“you should come sit with us, spence!” penelope suggests, eyes wide as she pulls over another chair. three now lay in a row, yours in the middle, and you’re entirely certain you won’t be able to last a millisecond with a shirtless spencer reid tanning next to you.

you lift your sunglasses, piercing penelope with your fiercest glare. she just smirks, cozying back into her spot as she innocently sips her drink. you let your shades fall back onto the bridge of your nose, masking your eye roll. her, emily, jj, and tara all know of the secret flame you hold for your teammate, thanks to a girls’ night featuring too many margaritas.

you couldn’t count on all your fingers and toes the amount of times they’ve all insisted that he’s just shy, that he’s never been good with beautiful women. you know what they’re trying to tell you, you just can’t let yourself give into the thought unless you hear it from him. you’ve grown to love your body, every dip and curve, your stretch marks and cellulite. still, that hurt young girl who never had a date to the school dance lingers inside, deep in a pit in the bottom of your stomach. she can’t let go of the possibility that he can’t look at you because he’s repulsed, turned off.

penelope reaches over and squeezes your hand, somehow able to read your mind. you suppose it might have something to do with the pout weighing down your lips.

“i guess bringing wine was a bad call,” you hear from beside you, and you whip your head towards spencer, nodding towards your frozen drink.

“oh!” you gasp as you connect the dots, “oh, i don’t think so!” your cheeks burn under his gaze, a hint of uncertainty in his big brown eyes, as if he wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk to him when he’d opened his mouth. you see the risk he’s taking, your heart pounding in your ears. you immediately jump to validate his worry, “rossi’s never going to complain about alcohol, you know that.”

he softens, his brow relaxing, mouth ticking upward at the corner, “that’s true, though it’s useless bringing any other type of alcohol when rossi gets his frozen margarita machine out,” spencer playfully rolls his eyes.

“that much is true, too,” you giggle, taking another sip of your drink, “he’s got daiquiris in one, margaritas in the other,” you explain, “at one point me and penelope mixed them. would not recommend,” you shudder at the memory, the tart citrus of the margarita was not so complimentary to the sweetness of the strawberry daiquiri.

he huffs out a laugh at that, one that throws his head back, “good to know…would you maybe want to come with me, see what else might be over there?” he nods back to the bar, every inch of its surface covered by a bottle of alcohol, surrounded by huge tables of food.

your heart stops, and it feels like water is swirling through your ears, the pressure pounding in your head, “yeah,” you rush out breathily, “yeah, i’d like that. i think i need a refill, too,” you gesture to your now empty cup, but you stumble as you stand from your chair.

“woah…” he holds his hands out, lightly grazing your elbows to steady you, “you sure? i can get you some water instead, maybe,” his concerned tone tells you that although it sounds like he’s giving you the option, he’s really not. you suppose he’s probably right, he is a genius, after all.

“okay,” you shrug, the mix of vitamin d and alcohol floating to your head, warming you from the inside out, “but only if you get a margarita!” you poke him in the chest, hands on your hips as you stand parallel to him. your eyes bore into his as you take in your proximity, how you can smell the sweetness of his sunscreen. in your tipsy haze, you allow your eyes to linger on his neck, just for a moment, wondering what it’d taste like to lick one long stripe up the length of it.

“deal,” he muses, slipping his own shoes back on before walking across the backyard with you. he lets you go first- ever the gentleman- and hovers his hand over the small of your back, as if he’s anticipating you to fall back into him at any moment.

“you don’t have to do that, you know,” you flip your hair over one shoulder as you gaze back at him. you can see the amusement sparkling in his eye, and your heart thumps against your chest just a bit harder, “i’m totally fi-” you’re cut off with a gasp as your sandal catches onto a rock. you would have planted face first into the tough concrete, had it not been for the long, strong arms that wrap around you in the nick of time, pulling you flush against his chest.

he’s pressed up against your back, his heart thumping a mile a minute against your shoulder, his breathing heavy in your ear, “what was that?” he murmurs into your temple, and you can feel the smirk dancing on his lips. your lashes kiss your cheeks as you let out a heavy sigh, “i’m fine,” you insist, stepping away from him and walking ahead to one of the coolers, a plastic water bottle crinkling between your fingers.

“sure you are!” his tone leaks with sarcasm, shining you his infamous close lipped smile.

you roll your eyes as you approach him at the bar, his clear plastic cup now a pale shade of yellow as his long, deft fingers lift it to his lips.

“thank you,” you relent sweetly, smiling back warmly, your heart fluttering when he returns it, “you know, i think this is the most you’ve ever spoken to me outside of the office,” your forwardness stuns you, another unfortunate symptom of the alcohol you’ve already consumed.

it takes spencer aback as well, his neck lengthening, shoulders rolling with the movement, “oh! yeah, yeah i’m sorry about that,” he responds, sheepish, but genuine, “adjusting back to my old life after being released has been tough. there-uh- there hasn’t been much time for new people in my life recently.”

the energy shifts in that moment, tension percolating between you two. you’re still at the bar, leaning your elbows on it behind you while spencer stands in front of you. very closely, all of a sudden. uncertainty strikes through his chocolate irises like lightning, your heart twisting up in knots at the sight.

“spencer, you don’t have to explain your healing process to me,” you begin, as earnestly as possible. he smiles softly at that. you continue, “you’re plenty cordial to me at work, but i would like to get to know you more, if that’s something you’d feel comfortable with?” your voice is soft, soothing, though your heart is pounding a mile a minute, anxious acidity pooling in your stomach.

you see his eyes light up, a happy little sigh escaping his lips. your cheeks heat up at the endearing noise, and you hold your breath as he prepares to speak.

“you-”

“REID!” he’s barely able to get a syllable out before he’s cut off by derek across the pool deck, seemingly quite upset that spencer has not yet followed through on his promise to swim with him.

he turns to morgan, then back to you, face flushed a furious red. he purses his lips as he tries to think of what to say. you do him one better.

“let’s go!” you chirp sweetly, heading toward the pool area, “i’ve been meaning to dip my toe in all day!” you walk in front of him, letting him watch you as you strut away.

spencer takes a minute as she walks away, his eyes scanning up and down her frame shamelessly. her bright pink bikini hugs every peak and valley of her soft figure perfectly, showcasing her body in ways he never thought he’d be lucky enough to see. the skirt draped over her hips sways hypnotically as she walks, his eyes practically rolling out of their sockets at the sight.

he saunters behind her slowly as they cross the pool deck, reveling in the show she’s giving him. his eyes grow lazy, addicted as he watches her, his tongue lolling out lazily to wrap around the plastic straw in his margarita. he sips the cold drink, the alcohol immediately rushing to his...other head, clouding his judgement until his brain is fuzzy. he finally reaches the chair penelope grabbed for him, and stops in his tracks.

she’s laid out on her own chair, mere inches from his, her body now laid out on display. she’s leaning back on her elbows, her legs extended in front of her, one knee propped up just slightly. she’s unreal, just breathtaking. his heart is beating a mile a minute the closer he approaches, and he nearly vibrates out of his skin when he sits next to her, their arms inches apart. it’s like his ears are filled with water, the world moving around him in slow motion as the only thing taking up his expensive brain is the bombshell next to him.

he’s never this needy, this gluttonous, but the sight of you electrocutes his heart, a shocking desire he feels from the deepest corner of his heart to the very tips of his toes. he can’t help but wish he’s on your mind as much as you’re on his. she may have put on a cute act by the bar, but she was right for calling him out, too.

he doesn’t speak to her, but it’s not for lack of want. when he was in prison, all he wanted was to go back to the bau, to see his family. when that day finally came, she was the last thing he’d expected. her eyes paralyzed him that day, wide and bright as she cordially welcomed him back to his position. whenever she catches his eye from his desk, or walks past him, allowing him a whiff of her shampoo, he’s frozen all over again. he feels like he’s 13 again, and he just got assigned to sit next to the prettiest girl in his ap calc class. giddy, fluttery, terrified.

he takes one last sip of his drink, for now, as he knows derek is very impatiently awaiting his company in the water. he instinctively reaches to pull his shirt off, his fingers dancing along the hem. he stops himself when his eyes catch his tummy, protruding over his swim shorts ever so slightly. he’s never really struggled with his self image all that much, but the little pouch wasn’t there before he was wrongfully arrested, so it’s a new part of his body he’s made adjustments to. the next coming of aphrodite laid up next to him was not helping his confidence, acidic nerves bubbling in his stomach.

his gaze snaps over to her, sighing a breath of relief as he sees her focus on penelope. he drops his hands, turning to wade into the pool steps. derek meets his gaze with a knowing smirk, heat spreading over his already pink cheeks.

“morgan-”

he can barely get out another syllable before he’s cut off, “let’s go, pretty boy!” he calls from the water, where he impatiently waits, “cmon, you can race me for penelope’s diving sticks,” he flashes him a classic derek morgan smile, drawling a soft, sarcastic ‘loverrr’ that only spencer can hear as he further enters the pool.

“that only sounds fun for you!” spencer flicks water at his friend, who laughs and splashes back, “what, you just gonna get your shirt soaked?” morgan asks. spencer freezes, the water only reaching his knees.

he knows derek’s only asking out of concern, he probably thinks spencer forgot. he’d never put him on the spot like that if he really knew why he’d left it on. his heart rate picks up again, and this time it’s dread pooling in his stomach, overthrowing the desire his organs housed previously. his head is fuzzy, and that’s why he acts on immediate impulse, his head whipping back to her and penelope sitting on their chairs. she’s looking right at him, of course, anxiety flooding his chest like a tsunami.

his hand involuntarily drifts to his tummy as he fiddles with a button on his hawaiian shirt, but before he can do anything, she stands. he’s wholly unprepared for what happens next- she loosens the tie holding her sarong together, and exposes even more of herself for him. she looks him right in the eye as she patters across the deck to the pool. he’s mesmerized at the light jiggle in her thigh as she walks, unable to stop his brain from imagining a scenario in which he could give her skin another reason to do that.

his gaze follows her shamelessly the entire time she moves, until she’s on the same step of the pool as him. his mouth is slightly ajar, no doubt looking like a love struck cartoon character with hearts beating out of his eyes. she seems unphased as her delicately manicured fingers lightly graze his forearm.

“i can put it back on your chair, if you’d like?” she asks sweetly, melting his heart into a lovesick puddle.

something about the way she’s looking at him, eyes soft and so, so genuine, puts his worries at ease. his fingers reach to the top button and pops it open, all while they stare each other down like they’re in an interrogation room. butterflies swarm in his gut, palpitating his heart as the tension builds, thickening with the heat.

she wades deeper into the water, his eyes glued on her figure. the water covers her up more and more, and he gulps, shaky fingers fiddling with the rest of the buttons. he’s thankful derek and penelope are too tipsy and too invested in timing his speed underwater. if they noticed this near pornographic level of tension between him and her, they’d make sure everyone else on the pool deck did, too.

she moves like she knows he’s watching her, and she tosses her hair over her shoulder, taking a peek at spencer right as he’s peeling his shirt off. he feels more exposed than ever now as he slips his arms out of his sleeves. he turns to toss the shirt onto the chair, and as his body twists, he notices the way his tummy pudges over the waistband of his shorts, the little rolls that weren’t there before prison.

he feels the water ripple around him, and he turns to find her approaching the steps he’s been frozen on for almost five minutes now. they don’t speak as she exits the pool, his brow incredulous, “you’re getting out?” he stutters, wide eyed and completely caught off guard with the way her hips sway as she climbs the steps.

she stops and turns to him, one leg straight on a step, the other reaching up to the next one. the angle she’s at makes his head spin, her figure twisting into the most delectable position, it’s a challenge for his eyes to not dip below her waist.

“i just wanted to cool off a bit, i’m gonna lay in the sun a little more while it’s still light out,” she responds sweetly, and he feels like a deer in headlights.

she wraps herself in a towel as spencer turns to derek, who had seen the entire interaction, if the smile on his face was anything to go by.

“you told me you’d swim with me!” derek accuses teasingly, pointing a finger at spencer.

spencer rolls his eyes and trudges the rest of the way in, “i’m not racing you.”

as the sun started to set, rossi and hotch each took their stance at the grills in his backyard, doling out hotdogs and hamburgers to the hungry partygoers. you sit at a long table, family style with the rest of the team. an old university sweatshirt is draped over your frame, your bathing suit now dry from your earlier escapade in the pool.

penelope immediately started whispering to you the moment you’d exited the pool, eyebrows raised like she’d seen a unicorn, “what was that?” she whispered, spencer and derek then occupied with their boyish argument.

“you saw that too?” you’d hissed back, relief flooding your chest at her validation.

“yes! girl, if you don’t do something about that…” she insinuated, and you bit your lip, glancing back at spencer. you remember the way the sun shone off his shoulders, the way his back muscles flexed as he swam. now, you sit at the team’s table, thinking about what kind of scratches you’d be able to leave on that back, how it would flex under your palms.

you’re ripped from your thoughts by the chair next to you scraping against the concrete. your head snaps up to meet the very object of your thoughts, your face immediately heating up.

“oh-sorry,” he smiles sheepishly at the grating noise, making sure to lift the chair slightly as he pushes himself into the table.

“that’s ok,” you smile sweetly, unable to be annoyed with him, “how you feelin’? derek didn’t tire you out too much?” you nudge his shoulder lightly with yours, and he blushes at the touch.

“no, no, not really,” he shakes his head, smiling down at the picnic table, “it was fun, but i missed you at the bar a few times after that.”

your heart races at the lightness in his tone, his lips flirtatiously curling upward, “well, if i’m not mistaken, some doctor told me that i needed to drink water earlier this afternoon,” you respond.

he laughs at this, and it emboldens you so much, you can’t help but reach forward, your fingers deftly moving a strand of hair that’s fallen in front of his eye. he smiles sheepishly at this, and you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of making him blush. you’re staring at each other in a comfortable silence, like two lovesick teenagers at the lunch table. it’s awkward and nervous, but giddy and exciting all the same.

“you look really pretty when you’ve spent all day in the sun,” spencer comments, and the breath is stolen from your lungs, “you’re glowing in a way i haven’t seen at the office.”

“well, being under fluorescent lights all day provides a much different glow than lounging in a chair all day,” you instinctively inflect, a natural reaction you’ve developed to compliments over the course of your life. you’re trying to be better at that, though, so you sigh, and continue, “thank you, though. that’s very nice.”

he nods at this, seeming very pleased to have made you happy. your attention is then stolen by the commotion of the team, drinks and laughter melodically flowing throughout the yard. aaron walks around taking a plethora of pictures, waiting until everyone is seated to get his own plate, of course. he’s parallel from you and spencer, his phone pinched between each of his pointer fingers and thumbs.

“smile!” he chirps to you and spencer, and the space immediately fills with tension once more.

you revel in it this time, leaning into him with a cheesy smile for the picture. his arm instinctively comes up to wrap around the back of your chair. you wish it was your shoulders, but you applaud his attempt at being respectful, despite your near debauchery by the pool. you scoot closer just slightly, wide-smiling cheeks press together as aaron clicks the photo.

you catch the glint in your unit chief’s eye as he takes the photograph. he’s profiling your body language, a knowing smirk teasing at his lips. he makes eye contact with you, raising his brows before moving on to snap pictures of the rest of the team. you take pause after the interaction, the breath being stolen from your lungs at the validation.

the rest of the meal was more of a group event, but neither you nor spencer minded. you love moments like this with your team, where you can be with each other when the circumstances aren’t so grim. as always, you’ve ended up in a juicy gossip sesh with the girls- jj, penelope, emily, and tara. you’ve talked about everything from the hottest people of the 80s and 90s- emily and tara gushed over jessica lange and jodie foster, jj and penelope both said leonardo dicaprio, while you opted for river phoenix- to how nobody’s replaced the oat milk in the work fridge. jj and penelope were particularly heated about that one, you, emily, and tara were just fine with your half and half, though.

your tipsy cackling rings through the air, mixing with the sound of jack and henry’s laughter, the low, booming voices of your superiors at the other end of the table, the clinking of glasses. the sun sets, a vision of pinks and oranges. the darker it got, the more people begin to filter out his back gate, nearly everyone was sent with tupperware full of leftovers in their hands, the classic signature of a rossi dinner party.

soon enough, it was dark, and the only people left were the team. the humidity that clings to the night air moves the party back over to the pool. some were swimming, but your toes were dipped in the water, still sitting with your girls. you catch spencer sitting on the other side of the deck, nursing a beer with derek and luke.

he’s already looking at you when you see him, a dangerous glint in his eye that wasn’t there earlier this afternoon. the pool lights cast him in a soft, angelic glow, illuminating the teasing in his brown eyes. your heart speeds up, breath hitching as his lips curl up in a smirk.

you’re eventually swayed back into the pool with the girls for a bit. it’s not long before the girls start heading inside, but it’s long enough to complete two essential tasks- the first is filling them in on everything you’d been through with spencer this afternoon alone.

you tell them about the stares, the moment in the pool, him peeling his shirt off like some action star. all four of them have extremely loud verbal reactions, penelope even splashes the water out of reflex. it draws the eyes of the rest of the team, and you have to stop yourself from glancing over at spencer, attempting to maintain a semblance of subtlety. they volunteer to eventually herd the rest of the group indoors, so that way you can have some time alone with spencer. butterflies swarm your chest at the thought, and you can’t help but take a glance at him. he’s still looking at you, the fire in his eye burning brighter.

the second task of the evening included penelope assigning mermaid tail colors to each of you, or course. each of you squeal and laugh with girlish glee at the idea, you so rarely get moments like these to be so carefree and silly. she hits the nail on the head with her assessment, too- she gives tara purple, emily is green, jj’s blue, you’re pink, and lastly, she reserves yellow for herself. the five of you laugh, reminiscent of years prior, when your biggest worry was if you’d all get your favorite color. you all did this time.

after that, emily and jj were among the first to head inside, aaron and dave following soon after. penelope and tara followed, ushering derek and luke inside as well. you stay in the pool, though, eyes burning a hole through spencer’s. you can see him gulp, and you swim to his side of the deck. you fold your arms on top of each other, ensuring your chest lays nicely atop your arms. he swallows again, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“hi, spencer,” you nearly whisper, your tone delicate yet cunning, “wanna come in for a bit? we can go inside and dry off after?” you surprise both spencer and yourself with that last question, the insinuation burning white hot between you.

he nods absentmindedly as he stares at you, his eyes nearly going black as he, once again, tantalizingly peels his button up off. he takes the long way, teasing you no doubt, rounding the edge of the pool to the steps. you meet each other in the middle, breathing heavy between you two.

“hi,” he whispers.

“hi,” you whisper back.

then, his lips are on yours.

it’s all encompassing, the soft touch of his lips flooding your senses until you’re dizzy. his large hands grab hold of your face, parting his lips just so, inhaling more of you with each shaky breath. your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer. he moves his hands underneath the water, practically moving in slow motion as he pulls your thighs up so that your legs hug his waist. he rubs patterns into your plush skin, squeezing and massaging your softness.

“you’re so beautiful, it drives me absolutely insane,” he confesses, breathless between kisses.

“you really think so?” you whisper, tucking your head in the crook of his neck to pepper some soft kisses there. his hands creep up your thighs until they’re cupping your ass, reveling in you as his fingers sink shamelessly into your softness. his neck tastes like chlorine and sunscreen and you could eat him up. you sink your teeth into his soft skin, just slightly, and he lets out a small yelp.

“hey!” he whines, and you creep your hand up the back of his neck, lightly tugging on the hair there. you pull your head out of his shoulder to see his eyes desperate as you do it, a light ‘ooh!’ escaping his lips. you kiss him again, and again, and again. he’s just about to slip his tongue into your mouth, when an insanely bright light is shone on the two of you.

“hey, lovebirds! get outta my pool!” david shouts, and you can hear the team wolf whistling from inside.

you bury your face in the crook of his neck once more, mentally preparing yourself to face your team inside, soaking wet in a bikini, hand in hand with dr. spencer reid.

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Fem!Reader ☼ 946 words

series masterlist ; main masterlist

“He’s precious! He looks just like his daddy.” Miriam gushes, leaning in closer to Henry. James cringes as his baby boy flinches away, burying his head into his father’s chest and eyeing the woman with uncertainty. Henry’s tiny hands clutch James’s shirt, seeking comfort and protection from the unfamiliar face.

James knows Miriam from school, but they have never been close. She has always been the life of the party, a role he once embraced during their school days. Now, her enthusiasm feels overwhelming, especially to his shy and sensitive son. Perhaps he has mellowed more than he realizes since then—having a child at 20 would surely do that to you.

Miriam straightens up, placing a manicured hand on his bicep. With a slight pout to her lips, she says softly, “I heard about what happened to you and his mum. It must have been devastating.”

James tenses, his gaze shifting nervously to the store entrance, where he hopes Sirius, Remus, and you will hurry with their shopping and rescue him from this unwelcome conversation. The thought of discussing his ex, who left him and their son behind because she wasn’t ready for motherhood, fills him with a mix of frustration and anger. The memory of her sudden departure still stings, and he isn’t eager to relive those painful moments, especially with someone he barely knows.

“Yeah, it’s been tough, but we’re doing just fine without her,” James replies, his tone steady but strained. He takes a deep breath, summoning the courage to gently suggest that Miriam give them some space. “Anyway, Miriam—”

“That’s so unfortunate that he doesn’t have a mum in his life,” Miriam continues, her lashes fluttering flirtatiously at him. James immediately grasps where she is going with this. It’s not the first time his role as a father has attracted unwanted advances, but her bold approach leaves him momentarily stunned. If she had asked him out directly, it might have been different—though he doubts it would have made much of a difference.

“Miriam! Still hitting on unavailable men?” Sirius’s voice rings out with a teasing edge. James turns to see Sirius and Remus emerging from the store. Remus is scanning the receipt but looks up, startled at Sirius’s voice. You must still be browsing in the store.

“Unavailable?” Miriam repeats, her eyebrows raising in surprise. James can’t help but question the same thing, the word echoing in his mind.

“Very much so,” Sirius says with a firm nod as he and Remus come to stand beside James. Remus shoots Miriam a polite hello, but his expression reflects his lingering dislike for her from their school days.

“I didn’t know you were with someone,” Miriam mumbles, and James thinks about clarifying that he didn’t know it either.

The bell above the shop door chimes, announcing someone’s departure. James’s reaction to your voice is immediate and revealing; his eyes brighten, and his posture straightens as he turns to you. It’s clear from his response that he is deeply enamored with you.

And it isn’t just James. His son mirrors his father’s excitement. The little boy’s eyes light up with the same warmth, and he reaches out eagerly toward you. Henry babbles what sounds remarkably like “mama,” his tiny arms outstretched in an unmistakable plea for you to hold him. James hopes you don’t catch what his son is trying to say.

Your sweet voice rings out, “Jamie, I know you said not to spoil him, but they had the most adorable knit sweater—” You trail off, blinking in surprise as you notice Miriam’s disapproving gaze, her brow furrowed in irritation. You come to astop next to James, missing the way his son is staring you down.

“You bought him another sweater?” Remus asks, his tone a mix of surprise and amusement. You shoot him a halfhearted glare, silently reminding him that he shouldn’t be commenting on it.

“Hi, Miriam. How have you been?” You greet her with a warm smile, though a hint of unease tugs at you. Miriam’s gaze feels unusually intense, leaving you slightly unsettled. You recall that you both got on well in school, so you’re unsure what might have shifted between you.

“Good. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you all, Jamie and I were just talking about—” Miriam trails off, her gaze fixed on James as he smoothly takes the shopping bag from you, allowing you to take Henry. Had you been fully listening, you would’ve frowned at the use of your nickname for James.

The transition is so effortless that it’s clear it’s well-practiced. You settle Henry comfortably on your hip, deftly rummaging through your purse until you find a pacifier. You gently pop it into his mouth, and Henry’s head droops onto your shoulder as he begins to suck contentedly, letting out a sigh that suggests he’s found his perfect spot.

James’s gaze is lovesick as he watches you. His heart catches in his throat as he sees you effortlessly produce a pacifier for his son. He’s well aware that your purse likely holds other baby essentials, even if you’d deny it. As he observes you, his thoughts drift, overwhelmed by the profound realization that Henry has a mum in his life— you.

You’re so focused on settling Henry that you don’t even notice Miriam’s silence, and James, so absorbed in you, is barely aware of her presence. You smile up at him while gently rocking his son, and James thinks, This is it. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.

Miriam turns to Sirius with a lowered voice, “I thought they were just friends. They were in school.”

“They were never just friends. Y/n has always been James’s weakness. Now she’s his son’s too.”

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

[colouredbyd]

“Tell Me You Will Believe Me”

poly!marauders x fem!reader

summary: Your visions as a Seer used to be harmless—until they turned dark. Now, you find yourself caught between protecting the people you love and the terrifying truth only you can see.

wc: 3.6k

warnings: emotional abuse, graphic violence, dark themes, angst, betrayal, emotional withdrawal, mental health struggles (anxiety, depression), trauma, past trauma, death of a loved one, remus being a sweetheart, visions of future tragedy, so much hurt/comfort, LOTS of angst but then happy ending <3

authors note: i should be studying but this idea has been on my mind for weeks so i decided to just write it, enjoy the major angst with comfort. Im trying to test my skills, idk should i do part 2 or leave the ending like this?

part 2 masterlist

It started slowly. Almost imperceptibly.

At first, you skipped breakfast. Said you’d meet them later in class. You didn’t.

Then you stopped holding Sirius’s hand in the hallways. Your fingers used to seek his like a reflex—lacing together as naturally as breath. Until one day, his hand brushed yours and you flinched, pretending not to notice. He didn’t say anything, just shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away.

You stopped waiting for James after class too. Where once you leaned against the wall with a playful grin, teasing him about being late, now you left as soon as the bell rang. “Thought you’d already gone,” you’d lie, when he showed up confused and breathless, eyes searching the corridor for you.

You started skipping Hogsmeade weekends, claiming migraines, unfinished essays, fatigue. “I’ll just stay in and rest,” you’d say, brushing kisses onto their cheeks like goodbyes. “You go. Have fun my love.”

They noticed, of course. The boys weren’t blind.

But you were clever.

You still smiled when spoken to. Still said “love you” back. Still sat beside them at meals—even if you barely touched your food, barely looked up, barely breathed. You learned how to be present without being there. An echo. A ghost in your own skin.

The boys watched you like you were slipping underwater, helpless to stop it.

One evening, James sat beside you on the Gryffindor common room couch, his voice low and joking, “You’ve got this whole ‘mysterious tragic poet’ thing going on lately baby. Should we be worried?”

You forced a laugh. “I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

He smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We miss you.”

“I’m right here, Jamie,” you whispered.

-

The smell of fire, of burning flesh. Someone’s laugh twists into a scream that ends too fast.

-

But you weren’t. Not really.

“Take her and RUN, Sirius!” Remus roars, storming forward and grabbing him by the collar, shoving him back like the fire behind him hasn’t already started swallowing everything whole. “NOW!”

There’s blood in Remus’s mouth when he speaks, on his hands when he clutches Sirius, on his temple where something struck too hard, too fast. His lips are trembling but his eyes are terrifying—brighter than the firelight. They burn with something final.

“Moony—” Sirius chokes, voice hoarse with panic, tears already rising. “I can’t—”

“THERE’S NO TIME!” Remus howls, like it’s killing him to say it. “You don’t look back. You don’t come back. You take her and you fucking run, do you hear me? You keep her safe—Sirius, please—

-

-

“Hey hey hey pretty girl, look at me breathe for me come on.”

Sirius’s voice breaks through your fog. He’s kneeling in front of you now, his dark eyes wide with concern. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Dorca and Peter are there too, hovering close by, their faces twisted in worry. They’re all looking at you, their concern thick in the air.

“Are you alright?” Remus asks, voice soft, but there’s something underlying—something urgent in his tone. He crouches beside you, his eyes searching for an answer you don’t have.

You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. You feel pathetic having a panic attack infront of everyone. The vision’s weight is still on your chest, pressing down on you, suffocating you. It feels like the whole world is closing in.

Sirius looks like he might reach for you, but he hesitates, as if afraid to touch you. The intensity of the moment hangs heavy in the air. “You’re scaring me princess.” he says quietly, eyes softening.

And for the first time in days, you feel something like a tremor in your chest—like the weight of their love, their worry, is finally sinking in.

“please just hold me.” you hiccup through sobs, your voice sounding too small, too fragile. But the words feel hollow in your mouth.

And they do, they hold you until you feel safe enough. 

It was Remus who saw through it first.

He’d catch you staring into the fire too long. Flinching when the wind howled against the castle windows. He noticed your fingers trembling when you thought no one was looking. The way your hands hovered just above the boys’ shoulders when they leaned in—like you wanted to touch them, like you were afraid to.

“Are you alright, dove?” he whispered one night, his hand brushing your arm.

You blinked, startled. You hadn’t even noticed him sit beside you.

“Fine,” you said too quickly, too brightly. “Just tired.”

He didn’t believe you. He never did.

But he let you go.

After that, everything became quieter, not the visions though. They got worse, more clear, and more horrifying. 

You stopped calling Sirius by his stupid nicknames. No more “Padfoot,” no more “Starboy.” Just “Sirius,” plain and clipped.

You forgot James’s birthday. The guilt nearly ate you alive, even as you watched him pretend not to be disappointed.

You stopped reading with Remus at night. Once, you’d fall asleep curled against his chest while he read aloud, voice soft and warm against your temple. Now, you claimed headaches. Stayed in your bed. Doors locked.

They started whispering when they thought you couldn’t hear.

“She doesn’t laugh anymore,” James murmured one night.

“I think she’s scared,” Sirius replied. “Of what, I don’t know.”

“Us?” Remus said quietly.

-

-

“They know. They know, James—run!” and then footsteps and a crash and nothing.

A golden ring in a pool of blood. The sound of Sirius sobbing into Remus’s shirt. “They said she was dead. They said—”

Remus’s breath on your neck. “Run.”

 Smoke curling under a door you don’t recognize.

The sound of chains dragging across stone. Always the chains.

Blood on parchment.

Your name scrawled across it again and again and again.

-

-

You pretended you were asleep, but your pillow was wet.

Until one night, Sirius finally snapped.

You were halfway through dinner in the Great Hall when he slammed his goblet down and growled, “Alright, what the hell’s going on with you?”

You blinked, startled.

“You don’t look at us anymore,” he hissed. “You don’t touch us. You barely speak. If you want to leave, just say so, but stop pretending everything’s fine.”

“I don’t want to leave,” you said, voice breaking.

“You already have.”

And when you looked at him—really looked—you saw it: the shadow of his future, the one you’d dreamed a hundred times. Screaming behind bars. Eyes hollow.

You turned away. “Please. Just let it go.”

And he did. Because even angry, Sirius would always choose you. Always love you, even when it tore him apart.

Then weeks turned into a month.

Then a month turned into two. 

And you kept fading—slowly, quietly, like death by a thousand unspoken words.

Until Remus couldn’t take it anymore.

Until that night in the library when he found you curled into yourself like a broken star, and you shattered in his arms and told him everything.

You were in the library at nearly midnight—eyes hollow, curled in the farthest back corner like you were trying to vanish into the stone.

You didn’t hear Remus at first.

But suddenly, he was there—standing in front of you, pale and shaking, with something desperate in his eyes.

“You’re done hiding.”

His voice trembled. You looked up, startled.

“I tried to give you space,” he said quietly. “I tried to trust you. Its been two months and 4 days (Y/n). I can’t anymore. You’re fading right in front of me. And I don’t care how much you lie and pretend you’re okay—you’re not.”

You stood too fast, the chair scraping behind you. “Please, just let it go rem.”

“No, dammit!” he snapped. “You shut us out. You stopped letting us love you. You look at James like you’re already mourning him. You look at Sirius like he’s glass. And you haven’t looked at me like anything in weeks.”

Your hands were shaking. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t want protection, I want you!” he shouted.

The silence that followed was deafening.

His eyes were glistening. “Tell me what’s happening. Even if it hurts. Even if it ruins everything. Please.”

You stared at him, throat tightening, vision blurring. 

Remus’s hands trembled as they gently cupped your face, his eyes searching yours for answers. The weight of everything was pressing down on him now, and he could feel the tension in your body, the way you were holding yourself back.

“Please, just tell me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, pleading. “I need to know, I need to understand what’s happening to you.”

You closed your eyes, tears brimming, throat tight with the truth you couldn’t bear to say. You’d been holding it in for so long, the fear, the guilt. It was all too much.

“Tell me you will believe me,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “Please. Tell me you will believe me.”

Remus’s breath hitched at your words, his grip on your face tightening slightly as if to pull you closer to him, as if to anchor himself to you. His heart was racing now, but his voice was steady. “I will,” he promised, his voice raw with desperation. “I believe you. I always will.”

You sank to the floor, legs giving out, and he followed, arms catching you before you could crumble completely. And then, for the first time in weeks, you told someone the truth.

“I’ve been having visions.”

He froze, but didn’t speak.

The words hung in the air between you like a spell. You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t face his eyes yet. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, but then Remus exhaled like he had been holding his breath too, his hands moving to hold yours tightly.

“What do you mean? Visions?” His voice was filled with concern, but there was something else there—something dark, like he already knew this wasn’t just a simple problem. This wasn’t something you could brush off with a shrug and a laugh.

You pulled your hands away, holding them against your chest, as if protecting yourself from the storm you knew was about to break.

“It’s like—I see things. Fragments. Pieces. But they’re never in order, Remus.” Your voice broke, and you cursed yourself for sounding so weak, for not being able to keep it together just a little longer. “Sometimes, I’m in them. Sometimes, I’m not. But it’s always horrible. Always the same. It’s—it’s the end, Remus. The end of all of us.”

Remus’s eyes never left you. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t say a word, but his face twisted with confusion and concern, his brow furrowed like he was trying to make sense of the puzzle you were handing him.

“The night we’re all going to die,” you continued, your throat raw. “I’ve seen it, over and over again. I—I see James… He’s screaming. I see Sirius… He’s… he’s not himself. And you’re—” You stopped yourself, unable to finish the sentence, the emotion too raw to put into words. “You’re not there. You’re gone, Remus. And it’s my fault.”

Remus’s face went pale as he absorbed what you were saying, his jaw tightening with the weight of your words. He reached out, his fingers grazing your arm, but you jerked back, your heart racing as you continued, desperate to say it all before it consumed you.

“I’m not always there, but when I am… It’s like I’m not even alive. I watch from some place far away. Sometimes, I see myself dead.” You let out a shaky breath, trying to hold it together. “I see James and Sirius, and I—God, I can’t breathe. I just… I can’t fix it, Remus. I can’t stop it. There’s a traitor, someone in our circle, someone close, and they’re going to betray us. James dies, Sirius gets blamed. They throw him in Azkaban… And I—I get taken, or worse.”

Remus’s hand reached out, but you flinched away, guilt and fear flooding your chest. You couldn’t look at him anymore. You couldn’t look at anyone, not with this knowledge hanging over you.

“I’ve been pushing you all away,” you whispered. “I’m scared, Remus. I’m terrified. I’ve been trying to protect you, to protect all of you. But I can’t stop what’s coming. I can’t stop it. And it’s eating me alive. I’m watching all of us die and I can’t do anything about it.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t dare let them fall. You were already too weak. Too broken. You couldn’t bear to show him any more of your fragility.

“Please, Remus, you have to promise me—promise me you won’t tell them.” Your voice was barely a whisper now, a plea. “Not yet. Not until we know what to do. I don’t know how to stop it, but I have to try. I have to do something, and I can’t do it alone.”

His hand was trembling as he cupped your face, lifting it so that you had no choice but to meet his eyes. His gaze was filled with so much pain, but also an understanding that shattered you further.

“Don’t ever think you’re alone in this, dove,” he whispered. “I’m with you. Always. We’ll find a way to stop it.”

You collapsed into his arms then, the sobs you’d been holding in finally breaking free. He held you tight, letting you cry it all out, his hand rubbing your back in comforting circles.

When the tears subsided, he whispered into your head, “ I believe you, dove.”

And in that moment, you finally allowed yourself to believe it too—believe that together, you might still have a chance to rewrite the ending.

The days that followed were desperate, and the sense of dread hung thick in the air.

The Marauders—Sirius, James, and Remus—refused to leave your side. Remus spent hours with you, pushing you to strengthen your Occlumency, your focus unwavering as he guided you through each mental block. His presence was a steady reassurance, though the unspoken tension between you both never quite lifted. The weight of what you’d seen in that vision was suffocating, and you had to push yourself to stay strong for them. For him.

Every moment, every glance you exchanged with your boyfriends felt charged with the weight of a looming secret. You knew things were changing, but you couldn’t tell them yet. Not until you knew the truth.

And so, you turned to your studies, hoping that if you immersed yourself in magic, in spells that might give you a fighting chance, the gnawing fear would subside.

It was a normal evening. The fire crackled merrily in the common room, casting a warm, golden glow over the four of you. Sirius sprawled out on the couch, teasing James as he flicked through a Quidditch magazine, his signature grin pulling at the corners of his lips. James was laughing, leaning over to nudge Sirius, while you and Remus sat across from them, trying to hold onto a semblance of normalcy.

For a fleeting moment, everything felt right. Remus caught your eye from across the room, and his lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. You returned it, but deep inside, the unease never fully disappeared.

“So, how’s the study session going baby?” Sirius asked, turning his head lazily toward you.

“It’s… fine siri.” you replied, your voice betraying none of the storm inside you. “Just trying to get through all this Occlumency nonsense.”

Remus laughed softly, his gaze never straying from you. “You’re doing great. You’re stronger than you think.”

James grinned. “You’re both scary smart,” he said with a wink. “I’ve been trying to catch up, but it’s been a slow process.”

Sirius chuckled, his usual mischievous energy making it feel like everything was just as it should be.

But then, in the blink of an eye, the room seemed to shift.

The dizziness hit first, so sudden you barely had time to brace yourself. Your vision blurred, and a rush of cold air washed over you. You pressed a hand to your temple, trying to steady yourself, but it was no use.

It wasn’t just dizziness. It was like the world itself was slipping away, replaced by something darker. A vision.

-

-

The world is suffocating—darkness swallowing everything.

The air is thick with screams—raw, guttural, pleading.

James’s glasses fall, shattered into pools of red.

The earth is drenched, soaked with fear, with blood, with everything you never wanted to know.

“Run!” Sirius’s voice cracks as he yanks you forward

You hear Remus, pleading, begging—

“Please, don’t look back. Just go!”

The air is heavy with the crack of spells, the sickening sound of bones breaking.

Sirius’s grip is all you have left to hold on to. You feel the weight of everything pressing down on you, but his voice is a lifeline.

“We need to go NOW.” You don’t look back, but you hear it. That scream.

James.

It’s not just a scream. It’s the sound of everything breaking. The sound of life ending.

It rips through you, through all of you, tearing something deep inside that you can’t even name.

Remus’s eyes lock with yours for a brief second, and in them, you see everything: fear, love, regret. “Don’t look back,” Remus’s voice is barely a whisper, 

The screams keep coming, one after the other. A storm of death and pain. Then, the worst sound of all.

Remus.

You hear him cry out—no, not cry out—begging. His voice breaking, splintering as if his very soul is being torn apart.

The sound cuts through the air like a knife, a desperate plea for mercy that doesn’t come.

The trees are closing in, but you can’t outrun the screams. You can’t outrun what’s happening.

Sirius stumbles, dragging you with him, but you both know it’s too late.

The ground is shaking now, trembling with the weight of death.

Something moves in the distance. Something that’s always been there, lurking, watching.

It’s him.

You hear the soft whisper of a name in your mind, but you don’t believe it.

The world stops.

The truth crashes through you, breaking you wide open.

The traitor.

The one you trusted.

The one who sold them out.

Everything you thought you knew is shattered.

-

-

Gasping for air, chest heaving, you felt the pressure of hands on your shoulders, holding you steady.

“Hey—hey, stay with me. You’re okay.”

It was Remus. His voice was strained with worry. But it didn’t make sense. None of it did.

The world was still spinning, and the faces around you were all blurry—except for one. The one that you couldn’t pull your eyes away from.

Peter was standing by the door. His eyes were unreadable.

And in that moment, you knew.

“Peter.”

The word was barely a whisper, but it hit the room like thunder.

Remus’s grip tightened, his voice full of panic. “What are you saying? What do you mean?”

But you couldn’t answer. Your mind was reeling from the truth. The betrayal that had been right in front of you all along.

It was Peter.

[agreeewrites]

Seducing A Scrooge | Jegulus

“Oh, my sweet girl. What has that madman done to you now?” Regulus cooed, crossing the room to you.

feat. poly!jegulus x reader

SUMMARY: Regulus is having a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit this year, so you and James devise a plot to spread some holiday cheer.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut with zero plot, established relationship, being tied up with Christmas decorations, group sex, praise kink, mix of sweetness and rough-ish stuff, lots of spit swapping, switch!reg and softdom!james

divider by @issysh3ll

“Jamie, this might be overkill,” you mumbled through the ribbon between your teeth.

“Nonsense.” He stuck a present bow to the top of your head. “Unless your uncomfortable,” he amended, wiggling his fingers between the tinsel and your skin to ensure it wasn't wrapped to tightly around you.

You shook your head, your thighs clenching together when he adjusted your position by lifting you by your festive bondage.

“Ah, just impatient?” James teased, setting you a bit more upright against the headboard. He skimmed his cool fingers over his work, the tinsel and lights wrapped around your body in complicated twists and knots, digging into your soft flesh and leaving a dusting of glitter over your skin. “We'll unwrap you soon enough, love,” he hummed, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

“How much longer will he be?” You whined, not in a hurry to be released, but already desperate for your lovers to touch you. James’ slow, deliberate ministrations while tying you up had set your body on fire, which he refused to quell before Regulus could play with you himself.

“Not much longer. Do you need anything while we wait?” He kissed down your neck, illuminated pink by the LED’s, featherlight and teasing. The tight ball of arousal in your stomach tightened further, your clit damn near aching clenched between your thighs.

You let out a soft whimper when he grazed his teeth over your pulse point. “An orgasm?” You ventured, and he chuckled against your skin.

“Sorry, darling. Watching you squirm is far too enjoyable to cut short.” He gave you one last peck on the cheek before rolling off the bed. He waved his wand to light the fireplace and start up some soft Christmas instrumentals on your muggle record player.

If Regulus heard “Jingle Bells” immediately upon entering the cabin, he'd turn straight around.

Your boyfriend, who was tempermental on a good day, seemed to have descended into full Scrooge this holiday season.

You and James had tried everything to infect him with the holiday spirit, from decorating your shared flat floor to ceiling in the gorgeous, vintage-holiday style he preferred, to going on romantic walks to see the lights, all bundled up in heavy coats and scarves. You'd even planned an elaborate date night to see the Nutcracker ballet, with coordinated outfits and a fancy dinner, but he was clearly only indulging your efforts, not actually enjoying the festivities himself.

So, you and James concocted a last ditch effort to raise his spirits, festive or otherwise. And now here you were, done up like a slutty Christmas tree.

Both of your ears perked at the sound of a bell chiming, enchanted to ring whenever one of the three of you arrived home.

James gave you a salacious grin. “Stay here,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before darting out to meet Regulus at the front door.

“Like I have a choice,” you grumbled yourself, shifting slightly and feeling the slick collecting between your legs.

“Welcome home, love,” James said, his voice warm and gentle, and you heard Regulus murmur something in response. Your muscles bunched with tension, and you bit down on the ribbon to stifle any sounds you might make.

“I should have known better than trying to go to the fucking shops two weeks before Christmas,” he grumbled, dropping his things on the dining room table. “Absolute insanity.”

“I can imagine,” James chuckled, and you could hear his arms wrap around Regulus, his coat crinkling against the taller boys chest. “Glad you're home,” James said softly, and your heart swelled.

After a few moments of quiet, you heard Regulus speak again. “Where's y/n? I bought her something.”

You sucked in a breath.

“A Christmas present?” James teased, and Regulus scoffed.

“No, just a regular present.” He rummaged through some bags, and withdrew something that sounded like clothing.

James gave a low whistle, and heat scorched your skin. “Oh, Reg. She'll love that,” he gushed.

“I thought so. Where is she? Over at Remus'?”

“Bedroom,” James replied, casual as could be.

The next second, James was opening the bedroom door and Regulus strode in, a gorgeous, red velvet dress in his hands. He froze when his eyes finally landed on you, widening a fraction before his beautiful face split into a wicked smirk.

“Oh, my sweet girl. What has that madman done to you now?” He cooed, laying the dress on the chair before crossing the room to you.

“It was her idea,” James chuckled, leaning against the doorway.

“Not entirely!” You mumbled around the ribbon, and Regulus’ smile widened.

Regulus’ fingers traced the tinsel over your thighs, over your soaked apex, and up to catch your chin, tilting your face towards him. “This true, darling? Did you two conspire against me?”

Your eyes widened, fixed on his dilating pupils, blackness overtaking the soft green irises. There was something about Regulus that never failed to make your brain shut off, and you found yourself struggling to formulate a response.

“Well, what a lovely little pair of trickster elves you are.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against yours, more a caress than a kiss, leaving your skin tingling in his wake. “And what a pretty Christmas decoration you make.” Regulus pulled back, admiring James’ work, and the way your curves strained against it.

“She was so good while I tied her up. Barely moved a muscle,” James praised, easing himself onto the bed beside you and running hand over your thigh, the muscles jumping at his delicate touch.

Your pussy was practically thrumming with anticipation, their words only amplifying your needy state.

“That so?” Regulus removed his shoes and coat, revealing the tight, black turtleneck and expensive jeans underneath.

You nodded, trying hard not to squirm as James started kneading your flesh with his big hands, slowly inching closer to your center.

“Although,” James hummed, his hand pausing. You held back a strangled whine, your hips flinching closer to his fingers. “She did start to get a little impatient towards the end. Even asked me to get her off before you got home.”

You glared daggers at James, earning a sly smirk.

Regulus tsked. “Jamie, be a dear and hold her still for me.”

Without another word, James stripped his clothing, revealing his tanned, muscular torso and matching cock, already at attention, before climbing into bed. He arranged you both so he was sitting behind you, your head leaned against his chest. His hands settled on your hips, squeezing gently in reassurance as Regulus approached.

“Did James tying you up make you that desperate?” He asked, and you nodded, your heart racing. “You like being at our mercy? Ours to treat however we please?” He dragged the tips of his fingers over your skin, making you shiver against James and forget your words.

“Yes or no, lovey,” James encouraged, his lips against the shell of your ear.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Undo her legs,” Regulus ordered.

Excitement washed through you, and James was quick to literally tear the tinsel off of you, throwing it onto the floor beside the bed while Regulus carefully unwound the lights. Then James tucked his hands under your knees, pulling your legs apart and back towards him, exposing your sodden cunt to the warm air of the room, and the sticky mess you made along your inner thighs.

The stretch felt exquisite after an hour of being locked in place, and a soft moan spilled from your lips.

“Seems our little love really likes to be tied up,” Regulus mused, kneeling on the edge of the bed and shirking his sweater. “Drooling all over my expensive duvet,” he chastised, though his words dripped with approval.

“To be fair, I didn't make it easy on her,” James said, pressing affectionate kisses along your shoulder and neck.

“I'm sure you didn't. You're as insatiable as she is.”

James chuckled, the rumble making your tits bounce, and Regulus’ eyes darkened further. James caught his expression and dragged his hands up your body, cupping your tits, framed by a harness of lights, in his long fingers.

“So fucking pretty,” he hummed, grazing his thumbs over the hardened peaks, making your back bow as pleasure zapped through you.

“Like a piece of art,” Regulus added, lowering his face between your legs, his black curls tickling your thighs.

You fought against the ribbon in your mouth, attempting to dislodge it. James hooked a finger into the knot and unraveled it, freeing you instantly.

“Please, Reggie, please, please touch me,” you whined, knowing how much he loved to hear you beg.

“What do you think, Jamie?” Regulus asked, dragging the tip of his nose along your sensitive skin, breathing you in.

“I think she might combust if you don't,” James snickered, pinching and rolling one of your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. You arched off of him, cursing under your breath as your pussy throbbed.

“Well, we can't have that,” Regulus hummed, his breath ghosting over your slick lips before his tongue laved through you, turning your thoughts to static.

He licked up and down your pussy, skirting around your clit in a wide arc. You melted onto James' embrace, his fingers plucking at your nipples while he mouthed at your throat, sucking marks across your skin.

“Reggie,” you whined, your fingers itching to thread through his hair, to reach back and hold James, but unable to do anything it grip the tinsel that binds them.

You felt Regulus smile against you, and he finally sealed his lips to your clit, nursing softly. You nearly come undone then and there, lifting off James with a cry as sparks flash behind your eyelids.

“So sensitive,” James said, snaking one of his arms around your waist to hold you in place. “He makin’ you feel good, lovey?”

“So f-fucking good,” you moaned, throwing your head back against James shoulder.

“You taste delicious, amour,” Regulus hummed, lapping at the pool of moisture collecting at your entrance. “Sweet as honey.” Regulus sat up briefly, catching James’ chin and kissing him, licking into his mouth. You watched their tongues dance, spit and your slick mixing in their sloppy exchange, James cock pulsing with excitement against your lower back.

Regulus pulled away after a few moments, a string of spit connecting their lips before he lowered himself back between your legs.

“C'mere.” James grabbed your jaw and angled your head towards him, capturing your lips in a simmering, languid kiss, the taste of you and Regulus lingering on his tongue. His licked at your lower lip, sucking it between his teeth to nibble on the tender flesh.

You moaned into his mouth, Regulus’ tongue doing something that made your brain short circuit, pushing you that much closer to your peak.

Regulus made a low hum in his throat. James broke the kiss to look down at him between your legs, his lips swollen and shiny with spit, eyes blown wide with affection.

“Gonna come for him, sweet thing? Shit—you’re trembling, love. Doing so good, Reggie.” James carded his fingers through Regulus' hair, and he leaned into his touch, practically purring with contentment against your sex.

It was so tender, so indulgent, you felt like you were glowing brighter than the Christmas lights, the most delicious heat spilling through you.

Regulus increased his tempo, so eager to make you come on his tongue while James held you together, soothing and loving on you both through the rising tide.

“Oh, god…f-fuck, m’gonna come. Yes, yes, yes!” You cried out as your orgasm rocked through you, electric pleasure frying your fragile nerves, making you twitch and convulse in James’ arms.

“Atta girl. Worth the wait, hm?" James praised, holding you tightly as your body shuddered through it, Regulus lapping up every drop he’d wrung from you, prolonging your release.

“Beautiful, amour,” Regulus purred when you finally settled, peppering kisses up your stomach to kiss you, his face damp from your release, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. He turned to kiss James, who dragged his tongue up Regulus' cheek to taste you.

“Switch with me,” James murmured to Regulus, sliding out from under you.

You trembled as you sat up, your body still recovering from that slow burn release, your muscles fatigued from the bondage. Regulus slipped behind you, quickly undoing the tinsel that held your arms so you could move a little more freely.

You moaned in relief as you sagged against him, stretching your arms overhead. He took one of your hands, massaging each finger gently before kissing your knuckles.

You nearly forgot about James, so fixated on Regulus’ attentive touch, until James lifted your hips, shifting you higher onto Regulus’ chest.

“Jamie, what are you—oh fuck,” Regulus loosed a strangled moan, and you felt his half-hard cock slap against your sensitive cunt, suddenly freed from his pants.

James shimmied Regulus’ jeans down his legs, tossing them aside before settling back between your thighs. Gingerly, you removed James’ glasses and set them on the end table before smoothing his curls out of his eyes.

Regulus wrapped his arms around you, one holding your hip, the other cradling your throat. Not applying pressure, just feeling your pulse, your breath, under his fingers. He kissed along your cheek, licking at the shell of your ear.

“You know how much you mean to me?” He murmured, skimming your jaw with his thumb so you looked at him.

“Enough that you'll tolerate our festive shenanigans?” You grinned, pecking his cheek.

“Even more than that,” he hummed, pressing a loose, light as air kiss to your lips. Suddenly, his hips jerked, his teeth nearly knocking into yours. “Fucking hell, Potter—” James’ name fractured into a low groan, and you felt James nose brush your sex as he took Regulus into his mouth.

“Oh-oh,” you moaned when James lifted off Regulus to lick up your slit, his tongue dragging between the two of you. He pressed Regulus’ shaft against your slit, rocking between your slick folds as he began thrusting against James’ mouth, the combined friction making your eyes cross.

“Merlin, so f-fucking good, babe. So wet and warm,” Regulus moaned into the side of your neck, his lips latching onto your skin and sucking.

You weren't sure who he was talking to, but both you and James preened at the approval, James emboldened in his efforts to feast on you both simultaneously.

If anyone could pull off such a sexual feat, it was James Fleamont Potter.

You tightened your grip on James’ hair and reached your other hand up to hold Regulus, sliding your fingers into the damp curls at his nape. The contact kept you grounded while James worked to send your body to the moon.

“I wish you two could see this,” James said after coming up for air, breathless and starry-eyed. “So fuckin’ hot seeing you both dripping.”

Regulus made a whimpering sound in his throat, his hips canting up with a little more insistence.

“Jamie, want him inside me,” you begged, rocking your hips in time with Regulus’ movements.

“Fuck, please, amour,” Regulus' added, and James gave a smug grin, his plan having come to perfect fruition.

It never failed to amaze you how quickly the always-cool Regulus Black would fall apart under your or James' touch. How quickly you could work his Royal Highness into brainless, desperate putty.

Not that you were in any position to talk, James was the only one of you who could keep a level head during sex. Which was why he often was the one to take the lead once you got into it.

You watched James grip Regulus’ cock, stroking him a few times. “Lift your hips, lovey,” he said, and Regulus lifted you for him, gripping your hips . James lined the two of you up, and with a nod, Regulus speared you slowly onto his length.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, his cockhead grazing every delicious inch of your channel before bumping against your cervix, the feeling of fullness wonderfully intense.

Regulus moaned, a string of mumbled french spilling from his lips as your pussy sucked him deeper, soft and pulsing around his rigidity.

“Such a good girl,” James praised, practically drooling from his front row seat. “Taking him so well.” He leaned forward, licking a stripe from Regulus' base to your clit, and you both cried out as a new height of pleasure crescendoed, clinging to one another. You felt Regulus’ cock throb inside of you, his body trembling with the effort of holding still.

“James—” Regulus hissed through his teeth when James did it again, torturing you both.

“Fine, fine. Can you blame me? Prettiest sight I've ever fucking seen,” he said, sitting up and holding his arms out to you. “Come here, darling. Let me help you.”

Regulus eased you up onto your knees and you wrapped your arms around James, his strong arms embracing your waist as you buried your face into his neck. He smelled of sex and his spruce body wash, so very James, and you melted onto his arms, knowing he could bear your weight with ease.

You felt James nod his head, hold tightening, and Regulus snapped his hips upwards, knocking the air from your lungs.

“Oh fuck!” You cried as Regulus pounded up into you, his cock ruthlessly filling you over and over again while James kept you steady. All the sweetness cast aside in desperation.

“Good girl, that's it. Just hold onto me and take it,” James purred, reaching one of his hands down to grope your ass, delivering a stinging slap to the jiggling fat.

“Feel so fucking good,” Regulus growled, his grip on your hips hard enough to bruise. “Petite putain d'allumeuse.”

“Jamie,” you whined, struggling to vocalize the thoughts spilling from your mind while Regulus used your cunt like his personal fleshlight.

“What, lovey?” He cooed, smoothing your hair from your face.

Your mouth hung open, beautifully pink and wet. Begging to be filled.

He grazed his thumb over your lip. “You want something to suck, precious?” He dipped his thumb into your mouth and you eagerly sucked it, eyes fluttering closed. “Ah, thought so.” He stared adoringly down at you, letting you nurse for a moment before removing his hand.

“Lean forward, love,” Regulus directed, his voice rough with exertion, and James stepped off the bed, letting you fall forward off of Regulus' cock. A low growl rumbled through Regulus' as he sat up behind you, his hands gripping your ass and spreading your cheeks. “Seven fucking saints, you're gorgeous.” He dragged his tongue through your sloppy cunt before straightening, lining up his cock once more before filling you back up, hitting a new, toe-curling angle deep inside of you.

“Mmph, Reggie,” you moaned, rocking back against his hips. “So b-big.”

Regulus grabbed the remaining restraints around your torso, forcing you up onto your hands, head forward where you were greeted by James’ pretty cock, flushed pink and dripping pearls. “Open, amour,” he ordered, but your jaw was already dropping, tongue out as you looked up at James through your lashes.

James spit on your tongue, slapping his cock head against it before easing himself into the wet warmth of your mouth. “Fuuuuuuck, love,” he groaned, head falling back on his shoulders as you started to suck him, Regulus’ thrusts forcing you further down James’ shaft. Regulus was manhandling you like a puppet, using the harness of tinsel to slide you up and down his cock.

You head completely emptied then, your body taking over as they fucked you from both ends, dominating every inch of you: mind, body, and soul. The pleasure was overwhelming, winding through every inch of you until it felt like you were cracking apart, your soul spilling out for them to take.

You heard them kissing above you, moaning and growling into each other's mouths like dueling animals, pummeling you between them.

You reached a hand between your legs, your clit begging for stimulation, and you began to rub tight circles over it, moaning around James’ length as your orgasm barreled closer.

“Close, hm?” Regulus purred in your ear, his front pressing against your back, and you nodded around James’ cock, gagging on a particularly deep thrust.

“Merlin, me too,” James groaned, fisting your hair as he fucked your face, sweat gleaming on his muscular chest, his dark hair a wild mess. “Gonna come down that hot little throat—fuck!”

A jet of cum blasted against your tonsils, his cock bucking against your tongue as his orgasm washed over him, his handsome face screwed up in ecstasy.

You greedily swallowed it all, sucking him until he was trembling and crying out, his body going limp as you overstimulated him.

“Your turn,” Regulus growled, speeding up his thrusts until you collapsed onto the bed, a screaming, shaking mess as he forced an orgasm out of you, the brutality of it knocking your soul from your body, splitting your mind in half as the room fell away and you ascended.

Distantly, you felt Regulus come too, his cry broken and loud enough to vibrate your ears as he fucked his spend into your quivering channel.

He collapsed onto you, breathing raged and skin sweaty. Slowly, your brain pieced itself back together, your muscles turned to goo, your skin tingling and sensitive as James rubbed small, soothing circles over your back.

“So good, lovey. You did so well,” you heard James murmur, pressing kisses to your and Regulus’ faces while he undid the last of your bondage.

Regulus curled around you, burying his face into you back of your neck. “I take it all back, I fucking love Christmas,” he mumbled, reaching out to tug James into the cuddle.

“I knew it,” James grinned, pulling your head onto his chest and wrapping an arm around you both, your legs tangled together. He twined his fingers with Regulus’ hand on your hip, guiding them to rest over his thundering heart.

“I think you just love pussy,” you teased, lazily grinding your ass against Regulus.

“That too,” he huffed a laugh, nipping at your earlobe.

“Well, I love you both,” James pressed a kiss to your forehead and brought Regulus’ knuckles to his lips.

“Love you,” you hummed, kissing James’ chest.

“Je t'aime,” Regulus shifted up to kiss James before dropping a kiss to your temple. “And thank you for showing me the true meaning of Christmas.”

“Pussy?” James asked.

“Pussy,” Regulus affirmed, and you snorted a laugh.

Thanks for reading!

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

belle gets it ✊

"tea" - emily prentiss x fem!liasion!reader

summary: you make a cup of tea to help you sleep

wc: 1.2k

cw: none, really? mostly fluff, & just emily being the best girlfriend ever

a/n: i'm in an emily phase rn and i'm not responsible for the fics i write ok ly all bad

A teal, ceramic mug with I <3 MYRTLE BEACH carved into it is cradled between both your hands as you lean against the kitchen counter. Your sleepovers at Emily’s apartment have become more and more frequent these days, which is lucky for you, really, because now you have a drawer where you can keep your comfortable, printed pajama sets. The set you have on tonight is blue, decorated with cartoon puppies. The shorts ride up your ass a little as you lean against the counter, but it’s no matter to you. Not right now, not when you’re the only one awake.

Or so you thought. 

Emily’s steps are akin to that of a kitten as she pads into the kitchen. Her ivory skin is the first thing you see, standing out in contrast of her dimly lit apartment. Then her dark hair, pulled up in a chaotic bun on the top of her head, leaning a little to the left because she always sleeps on her side. 

“Shit, Em, did the kettle wake you?” You grimace as she treads softly towards you. Her eyes squint to adjust to the light you have on over the range, and she reaches a closed fist out to chuck your chin playfully on her way to the refrigerator. 

“It’s alright,” she says, her voice like sandpaper compared to the usual velveteen you hear all day long. She must have been deep asleep, then. You feel a pang of guilt tug at your heart as you take a long sip of your tea. Emily grabs a handful of green grapes from the bowl in the fridge, popping one into her mouth. She glides to stand against the kitchen island, opposite a small stretch of linoleum from you. “You’re having trouble falling asleep again?” 

You shrug a little, trying to be nonchalant about it, but the truth is, you’ve been unable to fall asleep for a few weeks now. You chalk it up to a bad case about a month ago - unfortunately, both the unsub and their latest victim didn’t make it. You’ve had cases that didn’t end well before, but this victim was a young girl and you can’t help the way this one lingers in the back of your mind, like a bad aftertaste. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, baby,” Emily says before crunching down on a grape, the last one in her hand. You set your tea down on the counter beside you and cross the linoleum street that separates you and your girlfriend, wrapping your arms around her neck. Her satin pajamas tickle your cheek as you press your forehead into the crook of her shoulder. 

You cling to her like a koala and Emily just keeps her hands on your waist, holding you closely as you embrace her. She smells like jasmine and vanilla, and you almost want to chastise her because you know that means she stole your perfume. 

“My head just feels very full these days,” you sigh after a few moments, pulling away. Emily uses her hold on your hips to guide your back against the kitchen island. You hoist yourself up onto it and Emily moves to stand between your legs. 

“It’s that Oregon case, isn’t it?” she asks, tucking your hair behind your ear with one hand, the other palm resting flat on your thigh. 

“How’d you know?” you ask, an eyebrow quirking upward. 

“You asked Reid to help you finish your report on it,” Emily begins. “Two out of three cases since then have revolved around young girls, like you’re overcompensating, and Derek told me he saw you zoning out by the coffee machine while Anderson and JJ were discussing the case.”

You feel pink rush to your cheeks. All of Emily’s evidence is factual, much as it pains you to admit. “Is that all?” you deadpan, feeling a little sheepish. You also want to lay into your coworkers for being such tattletales. As the Communications Liaison, you generally maintain a well-rounded, professional disposition, but you suppose even your attitude at work has been lacking recently. 

“And, y’know, the gut feeling,” Emily adds. “You’ve been a little slower getting ready for work, almost like you’re dreading it.” 

“We agreed, no more profiling at home,” you remind her. She runs her thumb over the dimple in your chin. 

“It’s not profiling, it’s knowing my girlfriend,” Emily bites back with a compassionate sincerity that makes you want to eat her alive. How did you get so lucky? “You’re usually dragging me out of bed in the mornings, not the other way around.” 

You rake your fingers through her hair, meeting her dark eyes in the soft, dim light of the kitchen. This is as romantic a backdrop as any, in your opinion - lovelier than Paris, Rome, and London combined. You’ve always heard that to be loved is to be known, and boy, does Emily know you. 

“Well, I’m sorry for waking you up,” you concede in a slight change of subject, tracing your thumb across her hairline. “D’you want some tea? It’s that herbal stuff for sleep that Penelope recommended.” 

Emily shakes her head, kissing your jaw gently, then your cheek, finally your lips. It’s brief but it carries so many words. “No, thank you,” she says in a whisper, then steps back, grabs your cup from the other counter, and hands it to you. 

You take a drink, the warmth seeping in through your nostrils. “Do you love Myrtle Beach, Em?” you ask with a small laugh as you examine the mug in your hands. It’s obviously handmade, with the splotches of teal paint and weird lumps - and the lack of a handle. 

Emily just laughs, turning around and hoisting herself up onto the countertop beside you. You eye her smooth legs sticking out of those black, satin pajama shorts, and, uncontrollably, you set your mug down and place a hand over her thigh. “I’ve actually never been to Myrtle Beach,” she says. “I bought that at a thrift store.”

“So, you buy designer pajama sets off the rack, but you shop for your mugs secondhand?” you chortle a little, drawing circles into the sliver of pearly white thigh peeking out from her shorts.

“Yep,” Emily confirms, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word and shooting you a sideways smirk. “I like some things luxurious, but other things with lots of personality.”

“And which one am I?” you ask all-knowingly, leaning a little closer so your mouth was mere centimeters for hers.

“Oh, c’mon, now, you know you’re both.” Emily teases, then kisses you softly. 

You smile into the kiss, one hand curving against the smooth angle of her jaw to keep her face by yours for just a moment longer. “I really am sorry I woke you up,” you whisper as you pull away. 

“Don’t be,” Emily insists, resting her forehead against yours. “If it comes down to staring at the ceiling all night or waking me up by making tea, just wake me up. Okay?” 

You start to pull back, but Emily’s hand cups your cheek to keep your eyes on hers. “Okay?” she repeats. 

You nod. “Mhm. Okay, Em.” 

“Good, sweet, lovely girl,” Emily murmurs, pecking your lips once more before hopping off the counter. She offers you a hand to help you down. “Let’s try again, shall we?”

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James is older than you so he thinks he knows better.

Prompt: friends to lovers - "No one has made me smile like you do."

Warnings: steamy ❤️‍🔥

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

~ hope you like this! @alz14 ~

You know James Potter through your older brother, and you like him. You've always liked him, and you've never done much to hide your affections. Even in school, when you were just a naïve second year and James was a "mature" sixth year, you harbored the most obvious of infatuations that your brother teased you about incessantly.

Now that you've just turned twenty and James is almost twenty-five, your feelings have grown, and for your late birthday present, you want a kiss.

Luckily for you, your birthday falls around Christmas—meaning no one bats an eyelash when someone kisses under mistletoe.

"Jamsie—" you sing-song, padding across your brother's apartment in your slipper socks as he hosts a small, early Christmas gathering with his friends. Naturally, you invited yourself, because really, this was a marvelous opportunity.

James, who's known of your feelings since he was a boy, brings his mug of hot chocolate to his lips, grinning to himself when he hears you. He turns around, raising an eyebrow as he sees you standing in front of him in your sparkly red dress, the contrast jarring against your fuzzy pink socks. You're holding mistletoe over both of your heads and fake a shocked expression.

"Oops," you say, jingling the little bell attached to the mistletoe.

James sighs. He thought he knew all your tricks by now, but this one was new. "Hello, bunny," he whispers, lowering your arm. You pout at him, and he shakes his head, tapping your nose condescendingly with his index finger.

"I am not that stupid."

"It's tradition," you argue, crossing your arms. You look around the room. "C'mon, no one is watching us. One kiss."

"No. You're just a kid." James stops you from leaning in by resting his hands on your hips to keep you still. He looks at you, his eyes shining as he takes in how grown-up you look. Damn, you're certainly not a kid anymore, he thinks.

"I'm twenty," you tell him sternly. "We aren't that far apart in age. You just make it a big deal."

James chuckles. "It is a big deal. I'm older, and I'm your brother's best friend. It's wrong."

You huff, staring at him through your eyelashes as you slowly raise your arm again, rustling the mistletoe, and smile at him. "One kiss," you whisper, your nose nuzzling his as you stand on your tiptoes, your free hand holding his strong, muscular arm.

James's chest heaves as he takes you in. You're stunning, and he wants you, but he knows he can't have you.

He begins to shake his head and in your hurry, you go to kiss his cheek. The movement of James's head messes up your calculations, and you kiss the side of his mouth, your soft lips touching his, and a coil suddenly snaps inside him.

His eyes widen, and just as you move to pull away, his hands leave your hips and he's cupping your cheeks, pulling you back in.

You're still holding up the mistletoe as he kisses you back, and after a moment, you finally lower your arm and wrap it around James's neck. James is quick to push you into your brother's small bathroom, knocking stuff over as he sits you on the sink, his hands continuing to explore you as he devours you.

"Jamie," you whisper as he pulls away, his breathing harsh. James's eyes are dark with lust.

"Bloody hell," he mutters, pushing himself away, reality sinking in as he sees the strap of your dress hanging over your shoulder and the flushed expression on your face.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he thinks.

"Your brother is going to murder me."

"He doesn’t have to know," you say, hooking your heel behind James's leg, pulling him back in as you keep your leg hooked around his hip. You groan when he's close and look up at him. "More," you say. "I've wanted you for so long, James. Please."

You're begging, and James is losing his mind. How can he resist your begging?

He doesn't. He crashes his lips onto yours, and this time, his hands slip up under your pretty dress, feeling the wetness of your panties. "Shit," he smirks, playing with you for a while, his fingers experienced. His lips trail down your neck, careful not to leave any marks your brother might see.

"So needy for me," his voice sounds breathless.

You nod, holding him closer, feeling yourself lower your defenses and let him in. "Y-yes," you whisper. "No one has ever made me feel like this, James."

"And no one has ever made me smile like you have," he says in your ear, kissing your cheek as he lowers your dress back to cover you. It's a secret confession, a declaration of love, you realize, when he presses his forehead against yours and tells you, "Not now. Not like this. You deserve so much better than this."

You slide down from the sink, and James's hands find your hips as your dress rides up a little, but he ignores it. He just looks at you fondly.

"I promised myself I wouldn't fall for you," he says, tucking some hair behind your ear. "That it was stupid, considering who your brother is, but you made it so damn hard not to. All those years of you following me around like a lost puppy, that pretty smile and those shining eyes. I was doomed from the beginning, love."

"More like fated," you say automatically, your eyes locked onto his.

James laughs, then nods. "Yeah. Fated. That's the word," he says honestly, leaning down to kiss your lips, ignoring how his mind is screaming at him to stop and think of your brother and how wrong this all is—because his heart doesn't have anyone else on its mind but you.

And he wants to keep it that way.

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese, @longlivedelusion, @fangirl-swagg

[nameless-jamie]

Hi, could you write a fic where the team gets food poisoning? Maybe Rupert did something to change their catering before a big match or Shandy comes back with a vengeance. And now PA has to take care of the whole Richmond team?

Thanks

Drabble - Everyone's PA

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, mentions of puking and food poisoning

A/N: Hi I changed the context a little and made it a vengeance from West Ham in general hope its still good. Thank you for the request!

In all her time as Jamie Tartt’s PA, Y/N had dealt with her fair share of absolute disasters. She had smoothed over last-minute schedule changes, tracked down missing passports, and even fished Jamie’s car keys out of the fridge once when he was convinced someone had stolen them. But this? This was something else entirely.

The AFC Richmond locker room looked like the aftermath of a battlefield. Players were sprawled across benches, the floor, and, in some cases, curled up in the fetal position near the walls, groaning in pure misery. Others were fighting for dominance over the toilets. The air was thick with suffering, the kind only brought on by the worst kind of intestinal betrayal.

“Jesus Christ,” Y/N stood at the entrance, arms crossed, surveying the wreckage with a mixture of horror and resignation. “What the hell happened in here?”

Colin, who was lying flat on his back with one arm dramatically thrown over his forehead, barely cracked open one eye to look at her. “This is it. This is how we die.”

From the other side of the room, Sam let out a pathetic whimper, his forehead pressed against a bench as he clutched his stomach. “I have never known pain like this.”

“Don't let my mum find out I went out like this,” Isaac mumbled from his position near the showers, face pale and eyes vacant as if he had already accepted his fate.

The sound of someone retching echoed from the bathrooms. Y/N grimaced. “Oh my God. Could someone please tell me what happened?”

Jamie, the only one still upright—though he was leaning against the wall for dear life—lifted his head just enough to look at her, his face pale and sweaty. “It was the food,” he croaked, voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking took too much effort.

She stared at him. “What food?”

“The Chinese stuff,” he murmured, wincing slightly as he shifted his weight. “West Ham sent over food. Said it was a gift to congratulate us on the win. Every one of us ate it.”

Y/N blinked. Then blinked again.

And then she let out a slow, measured breath through her nose, rubbing her temples as she processed just how monumentally stupid that was.

“You’re telling me,” she said, her voice eerily calm, “that you all decided to eat a massive amount of free food from West Ham—a team that hates Richmond—without even checking where it came from? From your fucking rival.”

Jamie hesitated, then gave a small shrug. “...Yeah? Maybe they wanted to be friends or somethin'.”

She threw her hands in the air. “Oh, you absolute idiots.”

“Oi,” Jamie pouted, though it lacked his usual energy. “How were we supposed to know it was dodgy?”

“I don’t know, Jamie. Maybe because it came from West Ham? Or maybe because this particular restaurant is literally known for having health code violations? Did that not set off any alarm bells for you? Could've googled it.”

Jamie blinked at her, then turned his head slightly to where Dani Rojas was curled up in a ball, moaning weakly in Spanish.

“…Fair point,” Jamie admitted.

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. “So, let me get this straight. All of you ate it?”

“Not Will,” Dani mumbled, barely lifting his head.

Y/N turned her gaze to the one person in the room who seemed completely fine. Will, the kitman, stood off to the side, sipping a juice box, looking mildly concerned but otherwise unaffected.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you fine?”

Will shrugged. “I don’t trust free food.”

Jamie let out a weak, pitiful groan. “Wish I didn’t.”

Y/N groaned, shaking her head. “This is unbelievable.” She turned back to Jamie, crossing her arms. “Can you at least help me sort this mess out?”

Jamie, bless him, made a valiant effort to push off the wall and stand on his own, attempting to look capable and useful. The moment he took a step forward, however, his legs wobbled, and he immediately stumbled, barely catching himself before he hit the floor.

Y/N sighed. “Right. So I’m on my own.”

She cracked her knuckles, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work.

For the next three hours, Y/N played nurse to a whole Premier League team. Will did help her a little...

She handed out water bottles and electrolyte tablets like she was running a triage unit. She forced them to sip ginger tea and chew on dry crackers to keep something in their stomachs. She confiscated Jan Maas’ gym bag when he attempted to head for a workout, claiming he could “sweat out the poison.”

“That is not how food poisoning works, Jan.”

"In the Netherland's we heal like this, pain is the best medicine."

"Fuckin' hellllll...."

She physically wrestled Jamie’s phone out of his hands when he attempted to tweet, “West Ham is full of ops. This means war.”

“I will delete your whole account, Tartt.”

"The people want to know how Jamie Tartt is doin' and he's doin' pretty shit right now, love. Literally."

At one point, Ted came in and tried to help, but his version of helping consisted mostly of telling food-related motivational stories about resilience and the importance of trusting one’s gut—while an entire team of men clutched their stomachs in agony. She had to politely but firmly push him out of the room.

By the time the worst of it had passed, she was exhausted.

She flopped onto the worn-out couch in the locker room, sighing deeply as she finally allowed herself to relax.

Jamie, looking only marginally less like death, shuffled over and unceremoniously plopped his head onto her lap.

She glanced down at him, raising an eyebrow. “You reek.”

“ 'M still fit, though,” he murmured, voice raspy from hours of misery.

She let out a dry laugh. “Debatable.”

Jamie smirked up at her, eyes twinkling with something just a little softer than his usual cockiness. “I know you think so, love.”

She rolled her eyes but ran her fingers through his messy hair anyway, smoothing it away from his forehead.

Jamie sighed contently, melting against her like a cat in a sunbeam. “Dunno what we’d do without you.”

Y/N huffed. “Probably die.”

Jamie hummed. “Yeah. But like… in a funny way, yeah?”

She groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

He grinned sleepily. “And yet, here you are, takin’ care of me and my whole team.”

She flicked his forehead. “Shut up and sleep.”

Jamie let out a soft chuckle but obeyed, closing his eyes as he relaxed against her.

Y/N sighed, staring down at him, then looking around at the absolute chaos that had unfolded in the last few hours.

This was her life.

And, God help her, she wouldn’t change it for anything.

By the time the worst of the food poisoning had passed, most of the team had either passed out from sheer exhaustion or been picked up by loved ones. Isaac’s mum had come to get him (which was both adorable and terrifying), Sam had been whisked away by Simi, and Dani had somehow mustered enough energy to call an Uber before dramatically collapsing into the backseat.

That just left Jamie.

Jamie, who was currently draped across one of the benches, looking like he’d just survived a near-death experience. He had one arm lazily slung over his stomach, his head lolling to the side as he gave Y/N his best sad, pathetic, I-need-you-to-feel-bad-for-me eyes.

“Everyone’s gone,” she pointed out, pulling on her coat. “You should probably call an Uber to take you home. Maybe Keeley or Roy can come get you.”

She was hoping he liked that idea because she wouldn't let this pukey striker in her car.

Jamie let out a long, pitiful sigh, blinking up at her as if she’d just suggested he attempt to walk to his house on broken legs. “Can’t. Keeley’s in Ibiza, Roy would never get me, you know me mums in Manchester and I basically pay you to take care of me, soooo.”

She frowned and asked him innocently. “What about one of the lads?”

Jamie groaned. “They’re all just as fucked as me, babe. Most of them are already gone.”

He wasn’t wrong.

But that didn’t mean she wanted to deal with him personally.

She sighed, rubbing her temple. “You could just—”

Before she could even suggest getting an Uber again, Jamie turned the full force of his kicked-puppy expression on her.

“Please?” he murmured, voice hoarse and pitiful.

And damn him, because he knew she couldn’t say no to him when he looked like that.

Y/N let out a long, suffering groan. “Fine. Get your sorry pretty ass up. You're lucky I get paid for this.”

Getting Jamie into the car was an ordeal.

First, he claimed he was too weak to stand, so she had to practically drag him out of the locker room. Then, once they were in the car, he decided that sitting upright was too much effort, so he slouched down in the passenger seat, legs sprawled, head leaning against the window like some tragic poet contemplating the meaning of life.

“You’re so dramatic,” she muttered, pulling out of the parking lot.

Jamie cracked one eye open. “You love it.”

She shot him a glare. “I tolerate it.”

He grinned, but it was lazy, barely-there—like even teasing her was taking too much energy.

For the first few minutes, it was quiet. Peaceful, even. Y/N started to think maybe—just maybe—this wouldn’t be so bad.

And then Jamie groaned.

“Ugh, my stomach hurts,” he whined, shifting in his seat.

Y/N tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Yeah, Jamie, that’s what happens when you eat poisoned food.”

“D’you think it’s real food poisoning? Or just, like… West Ham curse poisoning?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s real food poisoning, you idiot.”

Jamie hummed, clearly unconvinced.

A beat of silence. Then—

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Y/N immediately slammed on the brakes, sending Jamie lurching forward with an undignified squawk.

“Oh my God,” she hissed. “Do not throw up in my car.”

Jamie groaned dramatically, leaning his forehead against the window. “Pull overrrr.”

She swerved into the first available parking lot, barely getting the car into park before Jamie threw open the door and stumbled out.

Y/N sighed, leaning her head against the steering wheel as she listened to him retching into the bushes.

This was, officially, the worst night of her life.

After a few minutes, Jamie crawled back into the car, looking even paler than before, but at least he wasn’t actively vomiting anymore.

She handed him a water bottle. “Drink.”

Jamie took it, sipped it weakly, then let out a tired sigh, leaning his head back against the seat. “You’re a saint, y’know that?”

She snorted. “More like an idiot for agreeing to this.”

Jamie cracked a small smile. “Still. Thanks.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, simply pulling back onto the road.

By the time they got to Jamie’s house, he was half-asleep, mumbling incoherent nonsense about chickens and West Ham’s bad vibes. She had to help him inside, guiding him toward the couch as he slumped against her like a deadweight.

“Alright,” she muttered, helping him lie down. “You’re home. You’re alive. My job here is done.”

But before she could pull away, Jamie grabbed her wrist, blinking up at her blearily.

“Stay?” he murmured.

Y/N hesitated. “Jamie…”

“Just till I fall asleep,” he mumbled, already halfway there. “Promise.”

She sighed, looking down at him—his tired face, his messy hair, the way he still managed to look stupidly attractive even while on the brink of death.

She was so going to regret this.

But still, she sat down beside him.

Jamie hummed in contentment, shifting slightly so his head rested against her thigh. Within minutes, his breathing evened out, soft and steady.

Y/N leaned her head back against the couch, sighing deeply.

Maybe she was an idiot for always putting up with Jamie Tartt’s nonsense.

But as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through his hair, she figured it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

[wish-i-were-heather]

A FOOL FOR YOU PT 4⤵ GRAYSON HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 2642 words, no use of y/n (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5)

STORY: well, y'know. you can't ignore a 911 text from a hawthorne

WARNINGS: none really, reader does struggle to swim tho and freaks out a little

TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl @zuzanna-jadw1ga @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @jimcarreyfann42 @ravishinglyliving @maybxlle - lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

A/N: EEK I LOVED WRITING THIS. i didn't describe the reader's swimsuit because i don't know what everyone is comfortable with so i let you kinda imagine it however u want! i'm not sure how many more parts i can get out of this idea, there'll definitely be at least one more lmk what u think tho

He said please. 

Grayson didn’t lack manners. It’s not that he didn’t know how to say please and thank you. But he also wasn’t the kind of person to throw around a plea lightly. Grayson Hawthorne was, well, a Hawthorne. The name itself was a demand, not requiring a please. But he’d felt the need to say please to you. 

Maybe you were overthinking it. 

Or maybe you were still in denial, like Avery said you were. 

The texts came in at eight at night, too, which only raised more questions in your mind. If he wanted to talk to you, why hadn’t he just found you? Or simply texted you to meet somewhere? You didn’t understand why he’d felt the need to use the 911; you would’ve come if he’d just told you to go to the pool. 

Hawthornes did tend to have a flare for dramatics, you supposed. 

You had no idea why Grayson wanted you to meet him at the pool. He was a swimmer, sure, but that was very much his personal time. Grayson didn’t often appreciate people watching or joining him in the pool. But, you figured there was a chance he expected you to.

So you found yourself at her door again. Despite the faint conversation you could hear from inside, you knocked. 

Avery took longer than last time to open the door. “What’s up?” She asked. 

“Hey. Uh, do you have a swimsuit I could borrow?”

She frowned slightly, confused. “I mean I do, yeah, but why-”

You didn’t even have to say anything. You just showed her your phone screen with the text messages. Her eyes widened as she read them and she immediately opened the door wider for you. “Get the hell in here.”

Avery was already digging through the grand dresser. As you entered the room behind her, you noticed Jameson sitting on the floor in front of a deck of cards, giving you a curious look. “What-”

“Not now, Jamie,” Avery quickly answered. “Girl problem.”

That shut him up. 

“Don’t mind him,” she told you, turning back around with a few items in hand. “We were just playing solitaire.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Together? Isn’t that a one player game?”

“His idea, not mine. Managed to turn it into a competition too, somehow,” Avery shrugged. Jameson gasped dramatically but she continued before he could speak, bringing your attention back to why you asked for help. “So, I’ve actually never worn this one before, you could keep it if you want. Or-”

“That one’s fine,” you interrupted, taking it from her. “Can I change in your bathroom?” “Oh, uh, yeah, sure I guess,” Avery answered, clearly confused as to why you were so quick to answer. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get there as soon as I can. Thanks.”

You didn’t change completely, just putting it on and putting your clothes back on over it. You didn’t plan on getting into the water, but it was worth being prepared.

As you were stepping out of the room and thanking Avery, Jameson called, “Say hi to Gray for me.”

Your head snapped back. “What?”

“Come on,” he smirked. “He’s practically the only person who uses the pool, especially at this time. So tell him I said hi.”

Shaking your head, you just ignored him. Jameson was the type of person who could read people well, so odds are he probably already knew he was right. But you didn’t want to give even more of a reaction to him than you already had. 

Avery grabbed your arm though, before you left. “Hey, hey, good luck.”

You thanked her and left, just hoping Jameson wouldn’t try to watch from the window. 

~~

The cool night air hit you sharply as you stepped outside. It hadn’t been too chilly during the day, but you now found yourself wishing you were in more than just shorts and a thin hoodie.

Shivering, you made your way over to the pool. Your mind was racing the whole way there, but there wasn’t really anything else for you to be wondering. Grayson had asked for you to come to the pool, presumably either to swim with him or just because he was most comfortable there. Either way, it was pretty clear that he wanted to discuss what happened when he was drunk. But you still didn’t understand why he sent the 911. 

Good thing you were on your way to finding out. 

The pool deck was empty, save for a few lounge chairs. The fancy cushioned kind, the ones you would only find at a hotel. And the Hawthorne mansion, of course. 

On one of the chairs were two neatly folded towels- two. So he did expect you to get in the water with him? Where was he anyway? If he’d already brought out towels, why wasn’t he-

Splash.

You’d been too caught up in your thoughts and the sound of your heart racing in your chest to realize that Grayson was, in fact, already in the pool. Swimming laps because he was Grayson Hawthorne, so of course he was swimming laps when the sun had already set and the only light in the sky was that of the stars. 

Swimming had never really been your thing, so you didn’t know the exact stroke, but you would’ve been a liar if you said you weren't somewhat mesmerized. The way his arms went up and out, the way his fingers glided along the surface before entering the water once again. His legs kicked together, the movement fast and almost indiscernible under the blue of surrounding him. 

Grayson came up for air so quickly you couldn’t even make out his face, but your eyes caught on the way his hair flicked up with his head. It was certainly a skill, and he managed it so gracefully. You struggled to look away.

Thankfully, you were pulled out of your stare when he suddenly reached the wall nearest to you. Grayson’s hands touched the edge of the pool in perfect sync. You could see the red in his face, the tire he was giving himself from swimming. You wondered how long he’d been there before you found him.

Grayson met your eyes with a tired smile as he caught his breath. “You came.”

“You said 911,” you explained, sitting on the edge of the chair where he’d set the towels. “I figured it was pretty important.” 

“Yes, I did.” He nodded. “We do only get one of those a year, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to any of my brothers.”

“Got it.”

He was avoiding the elephant in the room. 

“Would you like to join me?”

You stared at him. “Excuse me?” 

“You’re excused,” he said. “Would you like to join me?”

Was he really just going to ignore the fact that he’d sent you such an urgent message? A 911 could’ve meant he was dying, for all you knew when you’d first received it. And what, it was because he wanted to go for a swim with you? There was more he wasn’t saying and you just wanted to yell at him to spit it out. 

Instead, you responded calmly. 

“Join you in the pool?”

Grayson looked you up and down and shook his head. “I suppose you can’t really, not without proper swimwear.”

You got in the pool in a suit when you were drunk, you didn’t say. 

“I have a bathing suit on under this,” you explained. “I just… why do I need to get in the water? Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath. 

“I’ve decided I owe you an apology. For what happened.” You knew immediately what he was referring to. “I was reckless and foolish and unintentionally put the burden of myself onto you. It would have been easier for you to just leave me be, but you dealt with my mess. I appreciate that.” 

The silence that followed was only interrupted by the gentle lapping of the pool.

“See why I figured you should get in?” He asked. “We’d be at an even level. Better suited for such a conversation.”

“Or you could just get out,” you offered. 

“Please?” 

That word again.

Grayson Hawthorne knew what he was doing. 

“Fine,” you groaned, but really only half annoyed. You turned around as you began to take off the layers above the swimsuit, watching him in the corner of your eye as he looked away respectfully.

The cold hit you even harder now that you had removed your hoodie, and you hoped that the pool was well heated. 

“Okay, okay.” You began walking over to the edge of the pool where Grayson was. When his eyes found you, he stared for a little longer than normal before answering.

“You’re nervous,” he observed. “Can you swim?”

You shrugged, taking another step closer. “I know how to stop myself from drowning.”

Grayson moved out of your way and you sat on the edge of the pool with your feet getting wet. It was heated, thankfully. Comfortably so. No wonder he loved to come here at night. 

He was watching you silently. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it was killing you. Not that anyone could ever tell what Grayson Hawthorne hid behind those piercing eyes, but yet another question amidst everything that had happened that week was too much.

Of course he’s a mystery, he’s a Hawthorne. 

Before you could overthink it even further, you got in.

The warmth of the water enveloped you, contrasting greatly with the chill of the night air. You were holding onto the wall, not planning on letting go because your swimming skills were just barely above that of a child starting swim lessons. But Grayson’s intense gaze kept your heart racing. 

He swam towards you, grabbing onto the wall a little closer but still leaving a respectful distance between you. “Do you know why I sent the 911?”

“No,” you admitted. “It scared me.”

“I apologize for that. I panicked.”

You hadn’t expected that confession from him.

“You panicked?”

He nodded slowly. “I was afraid you’d think less of me after how I acted. You haven’t spoken to me in days, so I wasn’t sure you’d come otherwise.” The vulnerability in his voice was tangible.

“It’s not that I’ve been trying to avoid you, Grayson,” you explained. “I just… I mean, you haven’t spoken to me either.”

“I thanked you, I thought we were past what happened. I didn’t think we needed to talk about it.”

“You thanked me and then flirted and walked away.”

Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Did I?”

“You know very well what you did,” you said, trying to hide the blush on your face. 

He swam a little closer. His voice dropped to the same sincere tone it had adopted back when he was drunk. When you’d told him to be careful and he’d cupped your face. When he said he’d never hurt you, never. 

“Perhaps I do. But that doesn’t change the fact that I burdened you with my drunk self.”

“You’re not a burden, Grayson,” you told him, also pushing yourself closer to him along the wall. “It was no problem, really. Just a little entertaining.”

He chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or bitter. 

The way he was looking at you was making you feel something. Something you couldn’t name but… didn’t quite hate. You started to move yourself a little closer to him until-

Splash.

Your hand slipped off the edge of the pool, accidentally sending you back. Not exceptionally far or deep into the pool, but enough to make you panic. You could keep yourself afloat, sure, but not when you were suddenly pushed away from the only solid thing keeping your head above water.

But before you could fully let the panic set in, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you upwards.

The sensation of being lifted was disorienting. You were overwhelmed by the sudden rush of water and movement, then the lack of water as your head reached the surface again. Even if you’d barely been below the water for a few seconds, you found yourself gasping for air. 

Grayson’s arm around you was the only steady thing in the chaos.

“Hey, hey” Grayson spoke, and it took a moment for your startled mind to process the words. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to focus. It took a moment for your breathing to calm down, but you helped yourself by rationalizing it; you’d been under the water for maybe five seconds, there was no need to panic so much.

The shock had just gotten you.

His voice broke through again, focusing your vision and hearing on him. “Just breathe, in and out. Nice and slow, just like that.”

You followed his instructions, taking deep breaths. Your panic began to fade, and you became painfully aware of how close he now was to you, the proximity at which he held you.

Grayson didn’t let go as you calmed down, simply keeping you tucked protectively in his arm as if the water was threatening you. He used his free hand to reach up and brush a wet strand of hair from your face behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so careful, that you felt your heart flutter.

“Are you alright?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Thank you.”

He only nodded in return, his usually sharp gray eyes beginning to soften as he stared down at you. He didn’t move his hand away after moving the hair out of your face. It stayed there, lingering around your ear, until he decided to move down, cupping your face.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the first time that shirtless Grayson Hawthorne was holding your face in his large hands and looking at you in a way that was more than an annoyed glance. 

But it felt different this time. More intense, more real. 

He wasn’t drunk, not hungover; there was no doubt in your mind that he really meant everything. His eyes were still locked on yours with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place, yet somehow felt deep within your core. 

He leaned forward, so close to you that your foreheads were almost touching. His eyes fluttered shut and you realized what was happening only after you felt the words he whispered against your lips-

“I’m sorry.”

Grayson closed the small gap between you, gently pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant at first, like he was giving you the chance to pull away or tell  him to stop. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into the kiss, the arm around you tightened.

Your hands moved on their own, both sliding their way up to rest on his chest. He responded to your touch with a low hum that made you shiver despite the heated pool. 

His arm moved up to the back of your head, pushing you impossibly closer to him. The kiss grew more urgent, more desperate, like he was trying to express every emotion he’d been hiding for the past week. It was overwhelming, and for a moment nothing existed outside of you and Grayson Davenport Hawthorne.

When he pulled back, you kept your eyes closed. Grayson placed a small kiss on your forehead before resting it against his own. You were so close now, much closer than before, but that didn’t matter anymore.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” he admitted softly.

“Me too, Grayson,” you grinned. “Me too.”

When he kissed you again, he tasted like those stupid cherries he loved and felt like the end of the world.

the writing above belongs to me. please do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own. © 2024 wish-i-were-heather

[your-local-simp-writers]

Swing of Fate

Word Count: 3225

Warnings: None

Tim Drake x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The usual hum of the school day fills the air, the familiar sounds of lockers clanging, laughter bubbling up in small groups, and teachers herding students toward their next classes. In science class, the overhead fluorescent lights buzz softly, casting a pale glow over everyone hunched over their notebooks. The scent of paper and faint hints of disinfectant linger as you sit at your desk, scribbling down the lecture notes from the board, focused and trying to stay in the rhythm of the lesson.

At your side, Tim Drake is a quiet presence, meticulously organizing his notes and materials. You can see the focus etched on his face, his gaze steady as he reviews the day’s experiment setup. Occasionally, though, you catch a shift in his expression, a glance in your direction that lingers just a second too long. His dark blue eyes seem to flicker with something unspoken, a mixture of curiosity and intensity that keeps you on edge.

As the teacher drones on, your curiosity grows, and finally, you glance up to catch Tim mid-stare. Your eyes meet, and he shifts awkwardly, his cheeks taking on a faint blush as he realizes he’s been caught. Tim clears his throat, trying to mask his embarrassment, and fumbles with his pen as if it had been the most interesting thing in the world all along.

A smirk tugs at your lips as you lean a little closer, keeping your voice low. "You know, if you're going to stare, you might as well say something,” you whisper, amusement lacing your tone.

Tim stammers, his voice barely audible over the murmurs of your classmates. "I—I wasn't staring. Just... thinking about the lab results from last week."

You chuckle softly, rolling your eyes. “Right. Lab results. That must be why you looked like you were daydreaming.”

Before he can fumble for another excuse, Mr. Hargrove, your teacher, clears his throat, looking pointedly in your direction. “Miss Y/L/N and Mr. Drake, I assume your conversation is about the chemical bonding experiment?” His voice cuts through the noise, and a hush falls as nearby classmates glance over curiously.

You glance at Tim, who nods hastily, trying to regain composure. "Yes, sir," he says, straightening up and sounding far more confident than he looks. “We were discussing covalent bonds and their formation.”

Mr. Hargrove gives him a skeptical look but eventually just rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath about “young love” as he turns back to the board. Tim exhales, relieved, and you shoot him a grateful smile, silently appreciative of his quick thinking. He’s awkward, sure, but there’s something endearing about his attempts to cover for both of you.

The rest of the period passes in comfortable silence, broken only by the faint chatter of classmates behind you and the occasional scratch of pens on paper. Tim keeps to himself, glancing up now and then to check on your progress as you continue your notes. Each shared glance feels like a private conversation, a secret exchange that makes you feel closer to him than words could express.

Finally, the bell rings, and a collective sigh of relief sweeps across the room. Students shuffle out of their seats, backpacks swinging and papers rustling as everyone heads for the hallway. Tim moves to gather your materials for you, and when his fingers brush against yours, a small jolt of warmth runs through you. You look up, and he holds your gaze for a moment longer than necessary.

As you walk out, the hallway is a cacophony of voices and laughter, students calling out to each other about the weekend or the latest gossip. You’re still talking about the experiment as you stroll toward Tim’s locker, weaving through the crowd, when a familiar voice cuts through the noise.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jamie, one of your friends from English class, grins at you from a few lockers down, her eyes flashing with mischief. “So, are you bringing Tim to the pep rally tomorrow, or are you finally going to ditch your lab partner and join us?”

Tim looks like a deer caught in headlights at the mention of the rally, visibly unsure about diving into that part of high school life. You can’t help but laugh at his expression, nudging him gently. “Oh, he’s coming. Right, Tim?” you ask, leaning in with a grin. “It’ll be good for you to experience some ‘normal’ teenage activities.”

Tim rubs the back of his neck, shifting his weight as he avoids your friend’s knowing gaze. “If... uh, if you think it’ll be fun.”

Jamie just snickers, giving you both an exaggerated thumbs-up. “Look at you two—science nerds bonding over school spirit. I’m impressed.” She gives you a wave as she saunters off, leaving you and Tim standing in the bustling hallway.

Tim lets out a sigh, glancing at you apologetically. “I’m... really not a pep rally person,” he admits, his voice low as students continue to filter around you, talking about the game, the pep rally, and other high school plans.

“Come on, Tim,” you say, your tone playful as you tilt your head, coaxing him. “Just one rally. You could use a bit of excitement that doesn’t involve analyzing chemicals.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he relents. “Alright, alright. Just this once.”

That evening, as you make your way to Wayne Manor for your usual study session, the massive estate looms ahead, imposing yet strangely familiar. Alfred greets you with his usual polite warmth as he opens the door. “Good evening, Miss Y/N. Mr. Drake is already in the library waiting for you,” he says, offering you a tray of tea and biscuits with a soft smile.

You thank him, grabbing a biscuit as you head toward the library. Inside, you find Dick Grayson lounging on the couch, flipping through a magazine, but he glances up as you walk in. “Well, well, look who it is!” he teases, smirking. “Y/N, back again to distract Tim from his studies?”

“Hey, I’m just here for the snacks,” you retort, shooting him a grin. Tim appears in the doorway just then, holding a stack of books and looking mortified as he hears Dick’s teasing.

“I—I invited her to study, okay?” Tim stammers, trying to brush off the embarrassment as he sets down his books. His cheeks are tinged red, and he does his best to ignore his brother’s knowing look.

Dick just laughs, ruffling Tim’s hair as he walks past. “Sure, sure. Just don’t study too hard, little bro.”

As he exits, Alfred‘s voice echoes from down the hallway, cutting through the brief silence. “Tim, make sure you get enough sleep tonight. School is important—no matter what else is on your plate.”

You catch Tim’s faint wince, and a flicker of curiosity crosses your mind. You’ve noticed before how his family seems to hint at something… other. Something he’s careful not to talk about. But you push the thought aside, focusing instead on the evening’s work.

Settling at the table with your chemistry notes, you and Tim dive into reviewing complex formulas and covalent bonding structures. The room is cozy, illuminated by the warm glow of the lamp, and you find yourself sneaking glances at him. There’s a softness in his focus, a gentleness in his mannerisms that draws you in, making you forget the world outside.

For a while, there’s only the quiet rustling of papers, the scratching of pens, and the faint ticking of the library’s antique clock. It’s peaceful, intimate in a way you never would’ve expected. The way Tim’s brow furrows slightly as he contemplates a particularly tricky problem, or how he pushes his glasses up his nose absentmindedly, feels almost endearing.

Then, as if sensing your gaze, Tim looks up, catching you staring. His cheeks flush a deeper shade of red, and he smiles shyly—a smile that feels both tentative and sincere, and it makes your heart race. “Sorry, am I boring you?” he asks, teasing but genuinely curious.

You shake your head, trying to brush off the moment’s awkwardness. “Not at all. I’m just... trying to figure out how you manage to look so focused while I’m here daydreaming.”

Tim chuckles softly, his laughter warm and genuine. “It’s just a skill I’ve honed over time,” he replies, leaning back in his chair. “Though I guess I have my distractions.” His gaze flickers to your notes, then back to you, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Just admit it,” you challenge lightly, “you’d be lost without me keeping you on task.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh really? And how would I ever survive these long nights without my study buddy?”

You grin back, your playful banter drawing you even closer. “Exactly. I provide essential academic support.”

Tim shakes his head, laughing again as he dives back into the notes. The connection between you grows stronger in the comfort of shared laughter and study, the boundaries of friendship blending into something more electric with each moment you spend together.

Eventually, the quiet rhythm of study begins to take over once more, but the air is charged with an underlying tension that neither of you can ignore. You find yourself lost in the warmth of his presence, the unspoken words hanging in the air like an unsolved equation waiting for resolution.

As you finish up the last chapter of your notes, you realize it’s getting late. The clock ticks steadily in the background, and Alfred’s voice echoes softly from the distance, signaling that it’s time to head home. You glance up at Tim, who is still buried in his notes, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Hey, we should wrap this up,” you suggest gently, though a part of you wishes to linger just a little longer.

He looks up, seemingly surprised by the time. “Wow, I didn’t even realize how late it was.” There’s a touch of disappointment in his voice, as if he, too, wishes this moment could stretch on indefinitely.

You start to pack your things, and as you do, a thought crosses your mind. “Oh, by the way, I was wondering if you’d like to come to a party this Friday. It should be fun—lots of people, good music…” You trail off, gauging his reaction.

Tim’s expression shifts slightly, and you can almost see the gears turning in his mind. “A party?” he echoes, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. “I mean, that sounds great, but…”

You watch as he hesitates, and your heart sinks just a little. “But?” you prompt gently.

He rubs the back of his neck, looking genuinely conflicted. “I’ve got… uh, a lot of homework to catch up on,” he says, the words tumbling out awkwardly. “And, you know, I’m really trying to keep my grades up this semester.”

You nod, trying to mask your disappointment. “I get it. School is important,” you reply, your voice softer than you intended. “Maybe another time?”

Tim smiles apologetically, and you can see that he genuinely regrets not being able to join you. “Definitely. I’d love to hang out more, just… you know, when the stars align or something,” he says with a half-hearted laugh.

“Right, stars,” you echo, a playful smile creeping back onto your face, even as you feel the sting of missed opportunity. “Next time, then.”

With a final glance at your notes, you feel ready to embrace whatever comes next, and you can't shake the feeling that this is just the beginning of a beautiful chapter in your lives, even if the party won’t include him.

The rooftop is buzzing with life. Laughter mixes with the gentle clinking of glasses and the low murmur of jazz as people sway to the music, their silhouettes dancing under the warm glow of string lights. Someone’s already opened up a makeshift dance floor near the edge of the rooftop, and a group has gathered around to cheer on a friend trying to pull off a clumsy waltz. Everywhere I look, familiar faces are lit up with excitement, completely lost in the charm of the evening.

I’m leaning against the railing, watching the scene unfold with a grin, when Jamie sidles up beside me, nudging my arm with her elbow. “Look at you, standing here all mysterious and brooding. Let me guess—thinking about Tim again?”

I can’t help but laugh, rolling my eyes. “Absolutely not,” I say, faking indignation. “I’m just… admiring the view.”

She scoffs, clearly not buying it. “Right. And I’m the queen of Gotham,” she says with a smirk, sipping her drink. “Come on, you keep looking like you’re waiting for him to pop up out of nowhere.”

“You caught me.” I glance down at the rooftop’s entrance, knowing full well Tim wouldn’t come to something like this. “I don’t know, Jamie… he’s just different. There’s something going on with him, and he never lets me in.”

“Maybe he’s secretly Batman,” Jamie jokes, wiggling her fingers in a mock-spooky gesture. “Or he’s just shy, Y/N. Not everyone lives for the spotlight like you do.”

“You know, you could’ve just said ‘you’re awesome and everyone knows it,’ but I’ll take that as a compliment,” I reply, feigning a wounded look. Jamie rolls her eyes, laughing, and a few others overhear and join in, nudging me playfully.

“Oh, don’t get all modest now,” a guy from our biology class chimes in. “If it weren’t for you, we’d still be planning our senior trip to that awful museum downtown.”

“True!” Jamie says, raising her glass in mock salute. “Here’s to Y/N, our fearless leader and the best fake friend a girl could ask for.”

“Cheers to fake friends!” I say, clinking my glass with hers, the group laughing in unison. For a moment, I let myself relax, soaking up the energy, watching everyone enjoy themselves. It’s exactly the kind of carefree night I’d hoped for, even if there’s a tiny part of me that wishes Tim could experience it, too.

But then, the mood changes.

It starts subtly—a nervous murmur from someone near the door, followed by a low, panicked gasp. I turn to look, frowning as I see people near the entrance start to back away, their expressions shifting from cheerful to tense. Suddenly, the rooftop door slams open with a force that makes everyone flinch, and I see a group of masked figures rush in, shoving guests aside as they spread out across the space.

People gasp, stumbling back as the intruders take over. The laughter and music come to an abrupt halt, replaced by confused whispers and growing fear. Jamie’s hand grips my arm tightly, her face pale.

“Everyone, stay down!” one of the figures barks, their voice harsh and commanding. My heart pounds as the realization sets in—this isn’t some prank or joke. This is real, and it’s dangerous.

The crowd is chaotic, people backing up in confusion, trying to find places to hide. Instinctively, I try to move away from the intruders, grabbing Jamie’s hand and backing up, my own heart thundering in my chest. The once lively rooftop now feels claustrophobic, the walls and railings pressing in as I try to make sense of the chaos around me.

Someone shouts, and I turn in time to see one of the masked figures shove a table, scattering drinks and causing people to scream as they duck for cover. I stumble backward, my heel catching on the uneven rooftop tiles. I feel Jamie’s grip loosen as I lose my balance, arms flailing as I back up—too far. My stomach drops as I feel my foot slip over the edge, and suddenly, I’m falling.

It’s only for a split second, but it feels like an eternity. The wind rushes past me, the cold night air biting against my skin as gravity pulls me down. But just as panic fully sets in, a firm hand grabs my wrist, pulling me back with surprising strength. I gasp, my eyes wide as I’m yanked away from the edge and steadied by someone in a dark uniform. The masked face of Robin looks down at me, his eyes intense and focused.

“I’ve got you. Just hold on,” he says, his voice steady and reassuring. Even through the mask, there’s something so familiar about his tone that it sends a shiver through me.

Before I can say anything, he pulls me close and activates his grappling hook, launching us to a nearby rooftop in one swift motion. I cling to him, my heart racing, the city blurring around us as he carries me to safety. When we land, he sets me down, his hand still holding mine for a moment longer than necessary.

I look up at him, and my mind races. That voice, that feeling… could it really be?

“Tim?” I whisper, barely able to believe it.

Robin stiffens, his gaze flickering, and he hesitates. He starts to shake his head, but I cross my arms, giving him a knowing look.

“Don’t even try to lie to me,” I say, the words coming out more confidently than I feel. “Tim, I know it’s you.”

He sighs, realizing there’s no point in trying to deny it. He shifts uncomfortably, glancing away before looking back at me, his expression almost sheepish under the mask.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” he admits quietly.

I let out a soft laugh, more out of relief than anything. “So all those times you brushed me off or acted like you were busy—it was because you were out saving Gotham?”

There’s a hint of a smirk under his mask, and he finally lets his guard down a bit. “Sorry if my night job interfered with hanging out,” he says, his voice laced with that dry humor I recognize.

We share a smile, the tension easing for just a moment, before he grows serious again. “Y/N, this life… it’s dangerous. I kept you out of it on purpose. I didn’t want you involved.”

I step closer, meeting his gaze with a steadiness I didn’t know I had. “I get it, Tim. But I’d rather know the truth. And if you ever need help—or just someone to talk to—I’m here.”

He looks at me for a long moment, his eyes softening. Finally, he reaches up, and to my surprise, removes the mask, revealing the face I know so well. His expression is both vulnerable and relieved, a quiet question lingering in his eyes.

“You really mean that?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “Besides, someone has to make sure you don’t get too serious all the time.”

He laughs softly, his usual guarded demeanor slipping away. But then, the distant sound of sirens brings him back to the present, his face hardening again as the Robin persona returns. “I should go help the others. But… will you wait for me?”

I nod, my heart swelling. “Of course. I’ll be here.”

With one last, lingering look, he slips the mask back on and disappears into the night, leaving me alone on the rooftop. The evening has been flipped on its head, but I can’t help the small smile on my face. Tim, my friend—maybe something more—had been watching over me all along.

[stefanmikaleson1864]

0802 Part Two !

Requested by @sirishavenigalla !!! I reallyhope you like this and it was worth the wait ! Thank you for being patient while i tried my best to finish it !

Hi , thank you so much for writing that , I enjoyed reading it. I was wondering if you could write part 2 where the Indian American reader and Jamie get engaged , but things start to get rough, the reader is tired of him being reckless on the field and constantly coming home late . She’s sick and tired of staying up late and wondering when he’s going to come home and worrying about whether he’s going to come back in one piece. They get in to a argument about it , she tells him she can’t do this anymore and stays at her friends place. The next day she stops by at OC on her way to drop off the aloo ( potato) samosas as well as ladoos she made because she knows how much Jamie and the team like them . Elliot notices how upset the reader is and knocks some sense in to Jamie . Jamie realizes he can’t lose her again (he wants to spend the rest of his life with her ) he apologizes and makes it up to her . 

Y/N”S POV

Where do I begin this ? Things have gone from bad to good to bad again. Me and Jamie got engaged and we were so happy and so excited

. The thought of spending forever with someone was so exciting. We had so many celebrations and dinner’s and it felt like a whirlwind. 

Then the hard parts started. Jamie was going back to being reckless and doing whatever he wanted. It was like he didn’t have anyone to come home to

. Which hurt me a lot. It’s not like I wanted him to become a different person. I just wanted him to act like he cared. 

He also was staying out a lot longer past his shift. You don’t know where he was or what he was doing.

The thought of him cheating didn’t cross your mind. You knew that what ever was going on he wouldn’t cross that line ever.

I tried everything I could to get the point across to him because everything I did seemed like it never worked. He just kept saying the same thing over and over again. That this was his life and he needed me to respect that. 

The way he was treating you made you feel like you had some regrets about everything. He made it seemed like your opinion didn’t matter and that he was the only one in the relationship. 

Something big had to happen in order for things to change. You debated over and over again in your head what that decision would be. You just needed to take some time and clear your head out. 

You had a friend who had a spare bedroom in her house. She offered it up to you a couple months of ago when the bad times started. But you didn’t want to leave him not yet anyways. 

Sara was incredible. You two meant years ago at a bar when both of your dates stood you guys up. You bonded over everything your passion for work and even your favorite tv shows. 

She truly was your sister and you were blessed beyond measures to have her. 

Now it felt like you had no other choice. It was either losing him temporary or forever. So while he was at work you packed up your stuff and you left. Taking some things for a couple of weeks. 

Packing up your stuff you could feel the heartbreak and the pain. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing down your face. You kept second guessing it every time you put something in your suitcase. 

But there was no turning back now and you kept it going, reminding yourself this was out of love. 

You were getting the last little bit of stuff ready when you heard a beep coming from outside.

It was time for you to go. So you zipped up the suitcase and slowly made your way out. 

Your friend was sitting in her car looking at you with a sad face. She smiled up at you and you walked down to the car and threw your stuff in the trunk. 

You made your way up to the front and she reached out and gave your hand a squeeze. 

“Hey come on it’s going to be okay” She said. 

“Thanks I know” was all you could muster out. 

The two of you drove off and the car ride to the house was pretty silent. You couldn’t help but wonder was this the best thing or were you running away from your problems? 

“Your doing the right thing you know”  Sara said

“How do you know” You said 

“Because you need to follow your heart and your smart you know what your doing” She said. 

“You always see the good” You said 

“Sometimes you have to” Sara said. 

The conversation kind of fell flat after that and you just tried to shake your thoughts out and not over think everything like you always do. 

Finally after what felt like forever you made your way to sara’s house. It was so beautiful and you were lowkey jealous she lived there. 

“Come on let’s get you settled in” Sara said. 

You grabbed your stuff out of the car and headed in. She walked you up to your room and it was beautiful a nice big room with a view. 

“It’s so beautiful” You said looking around it. 

“Thank you now you relax and come down for lunch when your ready” Sara said. 

You smiled up at her and she headed out. You took your stuff out and placed it inside the drawers. 

After you were done you just sat on the bed and you let a few tears fall. How did you get here you thought. 

You just shrugged it off and your stomach growled so you headed down for food. Sara was making lunch just some sandwiches and you couldn't complain food was food. 

“Here eat” Sara said placing a plate in front of you.

You sat down on the island and grab the food in front of you. It was a ham and cheese nothing special but you were grateful nonetheless. 

You both just started eating in silence. Sara was struggling to find the right words to say to you. She knew no matter what she said nothing was going to comfort you. 

After lunch you cleaned up and went straight up to your room. You laid in the bed and watched tv and kept checking your phone. Hoping and praying he would reach out. 

You just cried a little bit and a couple hours had passed and you didn’t realize how late it had gotten. 

It was getting late so you decided to start getting ready for bed wanting more for the day to end. Jamie didn’t text you or call so you figured he wasn’t home yet. 

You got up and got your Pajama’s to change into whe suddenly your phone went off and you raced over to pick it up. 

It was Jamie calling you and you couldn’t tell if you were more happy or upset or worried. It was like everything was all mixed into one. 

“Hello” you blankay answered the phone. 

“That’s all i get is a hello where are you what happened” Jamie yelled into the phone you could hear the panic in his voice. 

“I left you a note to let you know I was safe. But come one this can’t be a surprise” You said. 

“We could have talked it out not run away from our problems” Jamie said. 

“I don’t have a problem you do fix it and figure it out” You snapped back. 

You hung up the phone and felt the tears fall down from your face. 

This wasn’t on you he was the one who was treating you different and not caring. So why should you. You weren’t going to be the only one putting effort into this relationship.

A few weeks had passed sense you moved into Sara’s house. You honestly had thought you would moved back in now but that wasn’t the case. Neither of you were budging. 

You weren’t the one to blame and he needed to see he was the one who needed to fix this and make it right. 

Put the other part of you just wanted to reach out and talk to him and clear the air. You just wanted to fix things. 

You also felt bad that you were still crashing here. Sara said it was fine and that you could crash as long as you needed. 

Right now you were sitting around in the living room when your phone started ringing. To your surprise it was Elliot calling you. 

When you saw it you were first confused then the panic started setting in . 

“Hey omg is everything okay” You asked all in one breath. 

“Whoa slow down it’s okay it’s not like this” Elliot said. 

“Look i’m calling to be a mediator” Elliot said.

“What do you mean” You asked taking a breath. 

“I mean is your both miserable and Jamie is beating himself up hard and you know him he’s not gonna reach out he’s just gonna sull and he’s gonna throw it away don’t let him” Elliot said. 

“I don’t know why can’t he just come to me and say he’s sorry” You said. 

“Because he’s afraid he’s been through a lot he doesn’t know how to communicate” Elliot said. 

He was right about that Jamie had been through a lot. Maybe you shouldn’t be so hard. 

“Fine let me think about it” You said 

“Thats all i ask were gonna be here late” Elliot said. 

He hung up the phone after that. It did get you thinking about a lot. 

You kept wracking your brain what to do so you decided to be nice and bring him dinner well the whole crew. 

You made him your famous aloo samoos and ladoos. He loved them he always ate them up in a heartbeat so you made extras. 

After you cooked you got a hot shower and finally put on some nice clothes. You felt good and you were excited and nervous to see Jamie. 

You gathered up your food and headed out. The drive down your butterflies were going off. But you also felt like anything could go wrong. You just kept replaying every single thing that could go wrong. 

It was about a half hour away and when you got there you decided it was no turning back now. You gathered up your food and headed in. 

Everyone was sitting around and not doing anything really. Jamie was sitting at his desk with his head down. 

Elliot was the first one to notice. He smiled up at you and got up and ran over.

“Hey thank you for coming and even more so for the food we missed you around here” He said he grabbing the food and taking it into the kitchen. 

Jamie heard Elliot talking and the smell of the food and got up from his desk. He just kind of stared at you. 

“God damn it man go and talk to her” Ayanna yelled out. 

“For the love of god she’s standing right there go right now or your fired” Elliot yelled out. 

It made both laugh and Jamie walked over to you. 

“Can we talk in private” He said quietly 

“Yeah come on” you said 

“Boo no fun we wanna hear” Jet yelled 

Everyone laughed and you both headed out the front door. 

“Y/n” Jamie started 

“What is going on” You asked looking at him. 

He was staring at the ground and slowly his eyes landed on yours. His eyes looked desperate. 

“I don’t know i just” Jamie yelled. 

“You just what this is what I mean you just kept shutting me out i’m sick of it I can’t take it anymore we can work like this” You yelled the tears falling from your eyes. 

That Broke Jamie seeing you cry. He never meant to hurt you like this, he knew you deserved better that what he was doing. 

“I just got scared I guess you know things got real fast and I love you and you know what i’ve been through. The easier option was to just push you away and I didn’t want to reach out because I thought you didn’t wanna hear from me” Jamie said honestly. 

“You can’t just do that okay. I’m gonna be your wife I love you come to me when your scared or hurt I’m not going anywhere I love you, your the best thing that’s ever happened to me” You said. 

“I love you more than life itself I don’t wana loose you ever okay” Jamie said 

“You need to get help go to therapy and talk to someone. This can’t happen again” You said honestly. 

“I know I will done” Jamie said 

He grabbed your face and leaned down and kissed you. The butterflies were erupting in your stomach and you missed this so damn much. 

“ I love you” Jame said breaking the kiss and placing his forehead on your 

“I love you more” You said 

“I love you both now i hate to break this up but were all hungry and the food is warmed up so let’s eat” Elliot said. 

You both jumped not hearing him come out. 

“We were having a moment” Jamie said 

“Yeah we got that but food let’s go” Elliot said. 

You both laughed and Jamie grabbed your hand 

“Let’s go eat” He said. 

He grabbed your hand and you both followed him inside and into the kitchen. 

Everyone had plates and the food all spread out. There was chairs all brought in so you could all sit together 

“I see everything worked out” Jet said 

“Yeah it did” You said 

“Good i’m glad i could not stand for another moment Jamie walking around sulking all day it was getting to much” Elliot said. 

“Oh well he was sad because you didn’t move in with him” You said laughing. 

“Yeah i think he asked but we didn’t get conformation you said no” Ayanna said 

“Uh he wanted me to sleep on the right side he knows better” Elliot said. 

Everyone laughed at that 

“Y/N is a much better partner to sleep with” Jamie said. 

“Awww well I don’t know Elliot is nice” You said 

“Well you keep bringing this food in I’m yours anytime” Elliot said. 

“Nah this mine forever” Jamie said. 

“Damn straight” You said. 

Everyone was joking and eating and enjoying themselves and you were so grateful Elliot called. It was going to take some work and you and Jamie both had a lot to talk about when you got home.

But he was your person and he was worth the fight for and you were so happy to be coming home.

[luvhughes43]

sibling jealousy | dad!jamie drysdale x reader

au masterlist💐

request: for the Lila au how about Lila starts to get a little jealous of her sibling because she thinks Jamie and mom don’t love her anymore and Jamie and mom explain that they still love her and come up with ways Lila could help with the new baby.

word count: 0.7k 

the move to philadelphia was hard enough on its own for the toddler, and with the recent addition of her brother to the household, lila was struggling to adjust to her new life. 

suddenly, she wasn’t seeing her uncle trevor anymore, and her dad wasn’t at home as often - both due to him being off IR and because his new schedule was more demanding. then, there was a new baby who was constantly crying and taking up all of moms and dads time. 

you and jamie were surprised that lila wasn’t getting along well with her brother - she had never really disliked anyone before. sure, she was shy and it took time for her to adjust to new people but… it had been months since noahs end-of-season birth and so it was shocking that lila was still struggling. she was avoiding anything to do with her brother, side-eyeing him all the time, and was throwing tantrums whenever you and jamie were tending to the baby.

it all came to a head on monday afternoon, when jamie got home from morning practice and wanted to spend time with his newborn. 

“daddy!” lila screeched, running over to her dad who sat on the couch with the baby in his arms. 

“woah! lila be gentle,” jamie cautioned, re-adjusting the baby closer to his chest. 

lila paused, assessing the situation before asking her dad if he wanted to play. to no surprise, jamie politely declined and assured lila he would make the time to play later. 

later 

later 

later.

it was always later. there was always something that needed to be done with the baby and frankly, lila was sick and tired of it. the 3 year old started to tear up. 

when jamie looked up from the baby, all he saw was his daughter's sad eyes before you walked into the room and asked what was wrong.

“I HATE noah!” lila shouted, pointing one of her chubby fingers towards her baby brother. at the sound of your gasp, lila started sobbing.

“lila..?” jamie was confused, not at all sure of where this was all coming from. yes they had noticed that lila was slow to adjust to noah, but this wasn’t new behaviour from her. 

lila shook her head before voicing her worries, “you don’t love me anymore!” 

“of course we love you,” you try to assure your daughter, heart breaking at the sight of her tears. when you sit down on the floor beside her, she immediately crawls into your lap and open arms. 

jamie sets noah in his baby toy-seat, and then sits with his daughter and wife on the floor. “we love you so much lila-bell,” he soothes, rubbing circles on her back as she clings to her mom. 

lila continued crying, “no! you love no-ah now!” 

“we love you both,” you chime in, bringing your daughter closer to your body. 

lila shakes her head, simultaneously breaking both yours and jamie's hearts. 

“you don’t play anymore,” she sniffles, shifting her head from your chest so she can look at her dad. 

“i’m so sorry baby,” he responds, tears shining in his own eyes. when lila didn’t respond right away, he grabs her from your arms to cuddle. 

“i’m so sorry,” he repeats. “i love you so much, okay?” 

lila nods, finally settling down now that she was in her fathers arms. 

“‘ove you too daddy,” 

that night, when lila was peacefully sleeping cuddled up to her parents in bed, jamie and you quietly discussed how you were going to move forward. clearly, your new schedule wasn’t working.

when baby noah awoke the whole house with his cries, instead of letting lila pout in bed you and jamie brought her into the babys room with you guys. you took the extra time to show lila how she could be involved with the baby, and throughout the day you noticed her attitudes towards her brother had started to shift. she was no longer shying away from the baby, but instead was finding ways in which the whole family could play together. instead of laters, your days were filled with soft i love yous, and requests for lilas help when you couldn't get a minute away from the baby. that weekend, you found a sitter and you and jamie promised that you would always try and make time for “lila dates”, where you would spend a few hours hanging out with your girl. you never want lila to feel unloved again.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

baby girl does have spence's curls, and yes, he is a loving, doting dad with that sweet darling girl wrapped around his finger.

i love this father's day gift from belle so bad. i feel like diana reid (mom) appearances are so rare and i loveee it when she shows up. c:

the fluffiest of fluff and i loveeee it!

𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗻 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿- 𝘀.𝗿.

wc- ~3k

pairing- young dad!spencer reid x bau!mom!reader

summary- for spencer’s first father’s day, you take baby diana to meet her namesake.

warnings- s1!spencer, r is younger than spencer by two years (23&25 respectively), just lots of sweetness and fluff. lmk if i missed anything!

a/n- happy father’s day! i hope you’re all able to spend time with loved ones, and if not, hopefully this can provide some comfort 🩷 this exists in the same universe as this fic! dividers from @saradika-graphics and @reveriesources !!!

“the doctors said she’s been having a good week,” your husband whispers as early morning light casts over your las vegas hotel room, “we should be good to go over there later this morning.”

“good, i’m glad to hear that she’s doing well,” you say back, tone hushed as you rub his scalp. he lets his eyes fall closed, you kiss him on the nose, he sighs contently, “first father’s day…” you trail off, giggling when his eyes snap open.

“i know, i can’t believe it,” a smile grows on his face, and you can’t help but kiss his bunched up cheeks.

it seems like just yesterday you were knocking on spencer’s door, tears in your eyes, a palm flat on your stomach. you remember the nerves swelling in your stomach, acidic bile rising in your throat as he answered the door. you remember his furrowed brow as he asked what was wrong, the panic in his eyes when you pulled out the positive pregnancy test.

you were so young when you’d gotten pregnant, a fresh 22. you were hired onto the bau team only a month before one salacious night out completely altered your lives forever. back then, you could have never imagined the life you’d create with the shy, awkward guy you work with. the fear that once paralyzed you has since dissipated into the most infectious joy, all thanks to your baby girl, diana reid.

she lays to your left in her portable crib, her tiny lips wrapped around her- somehow even tinier- thumb. you and spencer now both lay on your sides, cuddling back into his chest as you watch your baby girl, savoring each breath she takes.

“she’s so special,” spencer whispers against your temple, fingertips lightly raking up and down your arms.

“i know,” you respond, smiling gently at the way her chubby cheeks droop into the mattress. there aren’t enough kisses in the world for those cheeks, you and spencer both agree.

the sun rises on las vegas, still busy from the night before. a warm golden glow filters through the window on your baby, illuminating her as the angel she is. she starts to stir as the sun comes up, rolling over onto her back as she brings her chubby fists to her eyes. you two both smile at the tiny squeaks that escape her lips as she stretches, coming back to the world once more.

spencer’s the first to get up, as always, eagerly hopping over to the crib, leaning over it at the waist.

“hi my sweet baby!” he coos, long fingers wrapping around her tiny belly.

he pulls her to his chest, lightly swaying her back and forth. you revel in the sight. his mussed hair, no gel constricting the natural texture of his curls, the way diana automatically curls into him, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder as if the safest place in the world was spencer reid’s arms. you would argue she’s correct in that.

“good morning, my love,” you coo, and diana smiles at your voice.

“we’re gonna go see grandma today!” spencer exclaims, his volume is hushed but his tone is light and excited, “what do you think? huh?” he lightly rubs her belly and she lets out a tiny squeal, throwing her arms at her dad’s shoulders as she curls in for a hug.

he pulls her to him, deepening the hug. the sight melts your heart. a large hand covers the expanse of her back, the warmth no doubt nearly lulling her back to sleep.

“let’s get you some food, hm?” he murmurs into her temple, carrying her over to the hotel mini fridge, now full of milk bottles.

he hands her to you so he can take off his sleep shirt, before he situates himself on the armchair in the corner of the room, bottle in hand. skin to skin contact has proven to be something healing for both spencer and diana, bonding them tightly. she’s completely a daddy’s girl, and he’s wrapped around her tiny little finger. you love it, especially when you awaken to your shirtless husband cradling your child. the sight could be in the louvre.

you take a few more moments to say good morning to your girl, holding her close and peppering her face with kisses. you reluctantly hand her off to her dad, though you’re eager to get back in bed. it’s early, both of your sleep schedules still haven’t completely caught up to hers. thankfully for you, spencer wants nothing more than to take care of his girls.

once she’s fed well and burped, you finally drag yourself out of bed. you head over to the bag you packed for diana, pulling out a couple outfit choices for the day. she’s insanely spoiled, your team constantly comes to work with gifts for her- clothes from penelope, a toy from hotch that jack no longer plays with, stuffies from derek.

you pull out a frilly top-skirt set from penelope, and a pale blue dress from jj, “which one?” you ask, looking at spencer over your shoulder, each outfit held up in one hand.

“the dress. my mom’s favorite color is blue,” he looks up smiling as he finishes his sentence. the smile fades quickly, though, as his eyes scan your twisted figure, still clad in your lace camisole and matching shorts, “you look really beautiful, by the way.”

your face flames, a smile pursing your lips, “right back atcha,” you wink, dropping the top and skirt back into the suitcase.

“does my baby girl wanna get dressed?” you ask, reaching for her excitedly. she waves her arms, her own expression of joy as she sees her mama.

she giggles lightly as she’s passed from spencer to you, you lightly pat her bottom and sit with her on the bed. you lay her down, flat on her back as you change her from her pink onesie littered with white hearts (from auntie penelope, of course), and slip her into the dress. spencer, now fully dressed for the day, tosses a white headband onto the bed for her.

you stretch it over her head and smile at the white flower resting atop the mess of curls on her head. the prettiest baby girl in the world, you’re convinced. she got her dad’s hair, his big, brown eyes, but your nose, your smile. she’s an amalgamation of you and the love of your life. she’s perfect.

“you’re so pretty sweet baby!” you coo, your pointer fingers lightly digging into her tummy. she squeals, the cutest smile on her face as her chubby hands wrap around each finger.

spencer scoops her from the bed, occupying her so you can get dressed yourself. you tug on a flowy babydoll dress, it’s white, so you pair it with light blue accessories to match your mini me. you gather all of your parenting essentials, as well as your wallets, room keys, and phones before heading out in search of coffee. what spencer doesn’t see, though, is the large bag of gifts you’ve discreetly placed in the bottom pouch

there’s a small restaurant on the corner of the block, advertising their breakfast with a big, bright sign. you are in las vegas, after all. diana’s a huge hit inside the restaurant, she always is, your waitresses and patrons alike just gushing over her as you and spencer eat your meal.

spencer doles out small pieces of egg and sausage onto the tray of diana’s high chair, which she gobbles up immediately. she eats like she’s starved, you swear. you fiddle around in your purse while he does this, smiling when your fingers land on the firm card stock you were looking for.

“spence…” you trail off, “this is your first father’s day, and i know you want to spend it with your mom. i can’t wait,” you smile genuinely, you mean it. things with spencer happened so fast when you got pregnant, your parents arranging a wedding, to the birth of the baby itself. between that and work, you’d only gotten the chance to meet spencer’s mom once, shortly before the baby was born.

“you have presents for me, though, don’t you?” he eyes you wearily, figuring you out immediately, of course.

“i couldn’t not!!!” you gush, a smile breaking forth on both your faces, “it’s your first father’s day!!! some of this stuff i bought before you even mentioned coming to vegas, i was so excited!” you defend yourself as you push the card across the table.

it’s a small, cheesy one you nabbed from cvs. a large star amongst smaller ones lays in the night sky, with white text underneath it that reads ‘you’re a star!’ he chuckles, opening to the inside, where it says, ‘keep shining! happy father’s day!’

you couldn’t help but write your own note to him at the bottom. gushing about how good of a father he is, as much as you could in a paragraph. you see tears well up in his eyes when he sees the small scribbles at the top of the card, courtesy of baby diana.

“do you like it? i gave her the pen and held the card up to her hand, like her own little signature!” you exclaim, lightly clapping your hands together in excitement.

“it’s perfect. i love it,” his voice is wobbly as he presses the cuff of his sleeve to his damp eyes. you take his free hand and squeeze it, soothingly rubbing your thumb over his knuckles before reaching into the large bag that’s sat underneath the table the whole meal.

“ok, this first one is from diana!” you pass him a small gift bag, green tissue paper sticking out of the top, “we were at the store together and she kept pointing at it. i don’t know how she knew. i think she got your smarts.”

you smirk, resting your chin on your folded hands, elbows planted on the table as he opens it. it’s a book, one he can read to diana before he goes to sleep, titled ‘i love my dad!’ the tears finally spill over his lash line, and you well up yourself.

“you’re lying,” he scoffs, an awed smile on his lips, “no way she kept pointing at this?” he shakes his head in disbelief, “you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“spencer!” you giggle, “it’s the truth!” you reach for his hand over the table, lacing your fingers together, “i took her to target a few weeks ago, and i had already finished shopping for you. we were over by the books and we headed over to the children’s section, so i asked her which one she wanted to see if she would point,” you explain, and he hangs on to your every word, “she did. that was the one. like i told you, she’s got your smarts, babe.”

“that’s incredible,” he breathes, his free hand reaching for diana, a long finger rubbing against her chubby cheek, “you’re so sweet! thank you, baby!” he punctuates his gratitude with a kiss on her cheek, before leaning across the table to kiss your lips.

“you’re the best wife ever,” he murmurs against your lips, low and gravelly, before sitting back down in the booth.

“you’re the best husband ever!” you exclaim, before retrieving the rest of his gifts.

spencer leaves the restaurant with his family, heart- and belly- immensely full. it’s then that they begin their journey to the bennington sanitarium. nerves begin to bubble in his chest the closer they get. though he’s excited for his mom to finally meet her namesake, he can’t shake the feeling, like a puzzle piece out of place, whenever he’s back home.

he pushes the stroller up the pathway to the front entrance, smiling warmly at the nurse at the front desk. her eyes immediately light up at the sight of the baby, wide eyed and smiley in her stroller.

“dr. reid! it’s so good to see you! this must be little diana!” she coos, getting up from behind the desk to get a better look at his sweet angel.

“hi! yes it is, she’s here to meet her grandma,” he beams.

“well, she’s been having a great morning. she can’t wait to see you guys, she’s been talking about it all week,” the nurse smiles as she goes back to her seat to check them in.

his heart stops when he sees his mom, her hands are fidgeting with the book in her lap as she sits in her favorite armchair. her gaze turns upward when she senses him approach, her eyes lighting up at what she sees.

“spencer!” she gushes, “who have you brought to me?” she smiles gently, her hand reaching for the edge of the crib.

“hi mom,” he says gently, “this is your granddaughter, meet diana reid.”

“wow…” she trails off, eyes shining with pride, “she’s so beautiful,” she shakes her head in disbelief as she takes it all in. she then reaches for his wife, taking her palm in hers as she gazes up to her, “thank you for taking care of him. of both of them,” diana pats the top of his wife’s hand after she says it, and all three of them are tearing up.

“of course,” his wife replies, her voice shaky, “wouldn’t want it any other way,” she reassures his mother, and he swears his falls in love all over again.

“you’re treating her well, yes?” diana points accusatorially at him, and his cheeks tint slightly pink.

“course i am, mom. just like you taught me,” he smiles, leaning down to get baby diana from her stroller.

“here,” he huffs, passing the baby to his mother, “she wants to say hi.”

“she does?” his mother coos, her eyes glossy as she gently holds her granddaughter. spencer stays right next to them, unable to remove his eyes from the scene unfolding in front of him. his heart strings twist and turn, a wave of emotion flooding through him like a tsunami.

“isn’t she special?” he asks, looking up at his mom.

“she is. she’s perfect, i’m so proud of you, my spencer,” she glances at him, a soft smile spreading across her lips.

“i think she might like the garden, do you want to go on a walk?” he asks her, and she’s keen to this suggestion.

he takes baby diana back, placing her back in her stroller. his wife takes over the pushing, as he and his mom walk arm in arm to the garden. they park the stroller up front, the nurse at the front desk watching over it. his wife holds baby diana as they walk, and his daughter takes in each and every flower. they’re her new favorite things recently, she lights up when they take her on walks past their neighbors’ flower gardens. he knew she would love it here, and he’s validated with every gasp and giggle that escapes his baby’s lips.

his wife eventually sets baby diana’s tiny feet on the ground, holding her hands as she tries to walk with her. she takes a few steps before she stumbles, and his mom just lights up at the sight of her walking.

“i can’t believe she’s already taken her first steps!” his mother gasps, and spencer’s heart cracks just a little.

“we can’t either,” he breathes out as his wife scoops her back up.

they find a bench underneath an apple blossom tree, taking a quick break for diana to rest, and baby diana to have a snack. the chubby baby rests on his wife’s lap, sucking on an applesauce pouch, while his mother plays with her. it’s a perfect image, so much so that spencer takes out his phone, opening the camera.

“say cheese!” he prompts, holding up the phone.

the two women lean into each other, his wife propping up the baby in between them. their smiles are huge, infectious, and it makes his heart swell, warmth flooding his veins.

“beautiful!” he cheers, “my girls are so beautiful,” he murmurs once more, it’s low, more for himself. his wife hears, though, because of course she does. she leans up to press a kiss to his lips, passing off baby diana in the process.

“would you like to keep going, diana?” she asks his mom, and he takes a backseat, for once. he’s in awe of the calming effect you have on his mother, eternally thankful that he’s found someone who loves him and his family this much. it’s a luxury he never thought he’d be afforded, and it’s one he clings onto for dear life.

diana’s tired, so they return to the lounge. they exchange their goodbyes, which consist of many hugs and promises to come visit more. diana pinches his cheek before they leave, a reminder that he’ll always be her baby.

once they’ve exited the building, his wife leans up on her tip toes, her arms wrapping around his bicep as she presses a light kiss to his lips.

“that was so nice,” she coos, her lips resting on hers before they continue walking.

“you’re so sweet to my mother. thank you,” he says earnestly, “she really likes you.”

“i know how much she means to you, spencer,” she says, arm staying looped in his as they walk back to their hotel, “i love you, which means i love her, too. it helps that she’s an amazing woman, who’s raised an amazing son,” she lightly nudges his shoulder, and he blushes.

“this was an amazing father’s day, thank you so much,” he stops to kiss you once more. his heart flutters at the softness of her lips on his, the taste of her sweet lipgloss dancing on his tongue. his heart pounds against his chest, butterflies swarming through his stomach.

“i already can’t wait for next year,” she smiles, looking up at him with a cunning gleam in her eye. he returns her loaded stare, eager to return to their hotel so they can put diana down for her nap, and spare a few minutes, just the two of them.