Oh Dang Shit About To Go Down

Oh dang Shit about to go down

Ties That Bind 7

Pairing: MC!Bucky Barnes x Clint’s Twin Sister!Reader

Warning: Oh theeeeee language, sass, banter, violence, sexual puns, loss, abuse mentioned, possessive male characters, criminal activity, defiant females.

At the age of six, Bucky gave me a valentine’s day card, with a sloppy heart and BB scribbled inside.

At ten, he gave me a kiss on the cheek after wailing on Clint for pulling my hair.

At twelve, he pissed me off, staking claim on me in front of the others.

At fifteen, we had our first break up.

At eighteen, we graduated high school and got married.

At twenty one, everything changed.

Two years later, he’s dragging me home… to face the table and all I ran out on.

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This was so amazing! I’m loving this!!

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part II (x reader)

Summary: Spencer and reader spend a lot of time together. And then he spends some time away.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: typical CM violence, Spencer gets hurt but there’s no graphic descriptions 

Word count: 5k

a/n: This chapter is a little bit of a different style, because it had a lot of ground to cover! So we’ve got a few different vignettes of their first few months together— first dates and sleepovers and Spencer’s first long case away. I also worked some requests into this chapter.

———

Y/N stretched out across the bed, humming and burying her face into the pillow. She sighed and then drew in a deep breath. Her eyes blinked open as she recognized the new scent on her sheets— cedar and spice and a hint of floral. 

She moved her hand across the bed to find the sheets were cool, then raised her head to see the room was empty. The apartment was quiet, but the aroma of freshly brewed coffee crept in through the bedroom door left slightly ajar. She ran a hand over her face and reached for her phone on the bedside table, tapped the screen to check the time and saw a missed text from Anita.

Anita: How did it go???????

Y/N: Good! We talked a lot. And he spent the night.

Anita: W H A T

Anita: 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Y/N: Calm down. It was just a sleepover. Emphasis on the sleep. 

Anita: Sure it was 👀

Anita: 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Anita: 🍆🍑🍒💦

Y/N: I’m going to mute this thread.

Anita: You’re such a prude!!!!!!!

Anita: But also

Anita: This mf is still on THIN ICE with me

Anita: So tell him to sleep with one eye open 

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... And In Health

Jake Seresin x Aviator!Reader

Summary: A year after Jake has come to terms with his sickness, he might just have the opportunity to find the cure.

Notes/Warnings: note much, maybe some language? mostly just Jake being a sweety and being cute <3 This part is set about a year after the first one.

In Sickness...

When the waitress stops by your table for the fourth time, with a free pity-drink, your lip begins to wobble as she walks away. An hour ago you promised yourself you weren’t going to cry, at least not until you got home.

You’ve always been quick to emote, but even more so since your last breakup. Although you were shy and quiet, you hadn’t always lacked confidence in the romance department, but after finding your boyfriend sleeping with someone else, you hadn't realised the hit your self-esteem had taken until recently, when you’d started putting yourself out there again.

Suddenly instead of worrying about how your butt looked or what your hair was doing, you had deeper, far more troubling worries, like not ever being enough, and feeling like a constant burden.

Being stood up tonight was really, honestly, the very last thing you needed. Worse still, you knew that when you called your pickup, you were likely going to have to explain the situation, and that you weren’t looking forward to whatsoever. Which is why you’d been waiting out the time, so at least you might be able to convince Jake that your date had shown up.

You doubt he’ll believe you if you tried lying, your feelings were always much too clear on your face, you were practically an open book. Jake in particular always seemed to see right through you, like he was paying more attention to you, but you think he might just be observant of everyone. You wouldn’t allow yourself to go on thinking you were special in some way to him, even if the two of you had been slightly closer since your previous breakup.

You appreciated it, that’s as far as you would let yourself go. Jake had told you that he saw you as a friend, and even if you lacked self confidence in that friendship, you knew Jake was the sort of person who went hard for his friends.

Which was the whole reason he’d offered to pick you up tonight in the first place.

Your own car had been playing up and when you’d finally gotten it in the mechanics, they’d given you the unfortunate news that they weren’t going to have it back to you in time for your date tonight. You’d been telling Phoenix that you were going to cancel, as you didn’t feel comfortable being picked up by a date you didn’t know all that well, when Jake had chimed in that he would be your ride, if you still wanted to go. Although he still made you flustered when he fixed you with one of his looks, you really did trust Jake, and you wouldn’t have accepted if it were anyone else, because you also knew he would never have offered if he hadn’t meant it.

You have had a few regrets now, but you don’t let yourself linger on them. This whole situation was already pushing you to the edge, you know that Jake picking you up and likely being annoyed on your behalf shouldn’t count towards that… even if part of you feared he might start an ongoing joke about that time you were stood up.

You cringe when you shoot off an ‘all done’ text, and receive an ‘already??’ In reply, but you force yourself not to elaborate.

You don’t even have his car door shut before you’ve burst into tears.

“Hey, woah! What the hell happened?!” Jake’s voice is bewildered and slightly panicked, but quickly it turns hard. “Is he still in there? Wait here.”

Hurriedly you reach across to grab his shirt sleeve, one hand still rapidly trying to wipe your eyes, now filled with scratchy mascara specks.

“It’s fine, please. Just take me home?” You sniffle, trying your best to calm down and hope he looks past your sobbing and does as you ask. He doesn’t though, looking at you like you had absolutely lost your mind.

“You’re crying!” He gestures at you as if you weren’t away. You shake your head, before realising you can’t exactly deny it, and nod.

When he pulls open his door and steps out, he pulls himself from your grasp with little effort. Pathetically you let your hand drop and desperately wipe more at your eyes, trying to see where he’s going. You almost jump when your car door opens again and Jake appears, ducking down into your line of sight, his face stern, but his eyes slightly wide and very concerned. You feel bad for making him worry.

“Cricket,” Jake begins, digging into his glove box and pulling out a wad of face wipes. “I’m going to need you to explain to me why you are crying, otherwise I’m going in there.” He isn’t using his normal friendly voice, right now you’re confronted with Hangman, not Jake, and it actually comforts you a little. You knew how Hangman worked, Jake often gave you more cause for confusion.

“He didn’t come. I know I shouldn’t be so upset, I’m sorry. I’m just tired and—”

“—He didn’t come?!” He cuts you off, sounding disgusted, and when you look up at him, you see his lip curled and his face pulled into a snarl. You drop your gaze, and all of sudden his temper seems to disappear and change entirely.

“So you’re saying he’s not even in there for me to chat to?”

It makes you snort a little, and when you glance up at him, Hangman is gone and once again you’re with Jake. You watch him look away from you, over the top of his car roof, and let out a deep sigh, before he looks back at you, his expression unreadable, but soft.

“Here,” Jake takes the wad of wipes you’ve been holding on to and you’re too tired and worn out emotionally to protest when he tips your face up and begins cleaning off your ruined makeup. He goes about it a lot more diligently than you’d have expected, and about five minutes later, he grabs the fistful of now filthy, makeup covered tissues, and steps briefly away to throw them in a nearby bin.

When Jake returns, he doesn’t come to stand at your side again, instead he closes it and returns to the driver's seat.

“Have you eaten yet?” He asks, like the last ten minutes hadn’t happened. You shake your head, and rest it against the window as he lets out a breath, and begins to pull out. The hand he reaches out to balance on your car seat as he checks behind him almost makes you wish you could just hug him, but you push that feeling down.

“Alright. Let’s go get you some food then, sweetheart.”

It’s not the first time Jake has ever called you ‘sweetheart’, but it’s the first time he hasn’t been teasing you when he’s said it. Your pulse jumps at the almost casual intimacy of the way he says it, like he’d said it this way a hundred times before. Like this was something you did regularly with one another.

It’s almost a blessing he doesn’t say much else for the rest of the short drive, if you’re overthinking this much already. You feel stretched thin, tired from your work week, and even more tired now that you've expended all the effort and emotional preparation in order to come out tonight only for it to end in pure disappointment. All you want to do is hide under your blankets for the rest of the weekend, and maybe drink a bottle of red wine through a curly straw while you do.

Jake seems to have other plans though, as when the car stops at last, you aren’t outside your apartment building. Before you can even open your mouth and ask him where you are, he’s at your door again, pulling it open and holding out his hand.

“Where are we?” You know you sound silly, seeing as the big neon sign flashed bright in front of you through the window.

“At a restaurant. A good one, this time.” Is as far as Jake goes to explain to you. Dumbly, you unbuckle yourself and go to hop out of the car, forgetting that he holds a hand out for you. Jake doesn’t forget though, and quickly moves to take your hand before you can balance it on the car door.

The movement makes your pulse jump again, and this time it doesn’t stop, seemingly keeping its new fast pace going. You blink rapidly up at the blind who watches you carefully, your mouth opening, working like a fish for a moment as you try to get your brain working again, but Jake gets there before you.

“Humour me,” he says sweetly, giving your fingers a slight squeeze as he does, doubling your heartbeat again, but you can’t stop yourself from nodding. When he smiles at you, you half expect it to be a familiar cheeky smirk, but it’s not.

You let Jake help you from the car, and try to get ahold of yourself as he guides you away and toward the front door. He even leads you around the grating in the sidewalk which your high heels would surely fall through, and you wonder why you’d never considered that Jake would be a good date before. At least, you’ve never considered it beyond his cocky persona. You’ve never thought about how he would open your door for you, or gently hold your hand, or make sure you didn’t have to contend with holes in the pavement.

You’re still tired, but this turn of events shocks a small amount of adrenaline into you, and you decide that you have enough energy at least for whatever Jake has planned. Or, at the very least, you don’t have the energy to fight it, but you trust him, so you choose to trust that whatever it is, he means the best.

Jake releases your hand when he reaches for the door, and you find yourself startled by the feeling of loss that overcomes you when he does. You notice then for the first time that Jake wears a simple pair of slacks and a knit polo shirt that still sits a little rumpled from where you’d grabbed him by the sleeve earlier.

Once you’ve allowed yourself to be ushered inside the restaurant, you turn back and quickly smooth out the soft material, doing your best to be impartial to the feeling of his firm bicep under your fingertips, even though you find yourself needing to pull down the fabric where it seems to stretch even tighter around his muscled arm. Normally you really only take notice of Jake’s physique when he’s purposefully using it against you, to make you tongue-tied for his amusement, but this is really the first time you’ve found yourself up-close and personal, and you’re once more surprised by the intense desire you have to be hugged by him, to press yourself up against what you know to be his incredible strong body, feel that strength wrap itself around you.

Briefly you glance up at his face, expecting an amused smirk, but all you find is another unreadable expression, though his eyes do follow your movements closely. You finish your smoothing with a small pat, and turn away again. It takes another moment for you to feel him stir back into action behind you, and you find yourself again caught up in your thoughts as he steps slightly around you, to speak to a waiter who pops out to see you seated.

You’re vaguely aware that when you’re shown to your table, Jake pulls your chair out for you, and rests his hand briefly on your shoulder as you’re settled, squeezing it gently before he steps away to his own seat.

For a while the both of you are quiet as you mull over the menu, but the more your stomach begins to grumble, the more your senses seem to come back to you properly at last, and the bitter taste of disappointment and embarrassment that has been swirling around inside your chest and head all night begins to recede. This was just Jake, and even though sometimes he confused you, you knew Jake. You know that what he’s doing right now is his own way of hugging you and telling you it’ll be okay, like Phoenix would if she were in his place.

Your shoulders, which you hadn’t even realised had been slightly raised, relax as you place down your menu and take to studying the man in front of you instead. You’re able to watch him for a good minute before he turns the page of his menu, long enough to know he wasn’t reading it at all.

“I like Italian,” you venture, though your inflection makes it sound a little like a question, one you’re not sure you have the courage yet to ask.

“I know.” Jake replies, at last dropping the laminated booklet and linking his hands together on the table in front of him. You want to challenge him, but you stop yourself, figuring that knowing what your friends liked was the least someone could do.

You soften a little then, and drop your gaze to your place setting, straightening the silverware nervously, feeling his gaze locked on to you, and you chance peeking up at him as you talk.

“You really don’t have to–” you don’t even get to finish speaking before his sharp gaze flashes, eyes narrowing and he lowers his chin. “If you want dessert you won’t finish that sentence,” his words are humorous, but his voice maintains a level of sternness that you’d heard earlier when he’d been worried. You wonder if he usually masked his concern or anxiety with hardness. You wonder if that worked for him like it worked for you. You can’t deny that his cutting through your shit to get at the real problem was helpful when you were so prone to brushing off your own comfort for the sake of others.

Jake sighs then, but doesn’t even look away from you as he picks up the carafe of water and pours you each a glass.

“I’m not letting you go home tonight with that being the last date under your belt,” he sounds more casual now, and there's an offended scoff that punctuates his words, like the idea insulted him as well as you.

“This isn’t a date, though,” you hear yourself argue, though it's more out of sheer confusion than any real protest. You regret it immediately though, as Jake’s signature smirk makes an appearance, and he unfolds his hands to fix you with pure amusement.

You almost jump right out of your skin when something warm brushes over your hand again, and you realise too late that he’s taking it in his own, leaning toward you and cocking his head as his thumb begins brushing softly across the tops of your fingers, like he knew his actions have frozen you in place.

“Sure it is,” he tells you, and that seems to be that.

It takes you a moment to reboot your brain.

“You took all my makeup off…!” you protest after a moment, letting your arm go more slack as the feeling returns to the hand he holds. Jake raises an eyebrow, lips twitching.

“Don’t need it,” he shrugs, before relenting some. “For what it’s worth, in the two seconds I saw you before you started crying, it looked nice.”

You’re forced to reconcile with the idea that Jake thought you looked nice, and attempt to work out what that means for you now.

“Oh… Thank you…” is all you’re able to say, and are immediately greeted once again with his regular smirk, though it feels a little softer around the edges now, almost tender, but you think that must be only in your imagination.

“This is when you tell me how handsome I look,” Jake prompts, and you could roll your eyes and laugh him off, but the more you think about it, the more you actually agree with him.

“You look very handsome tonight.” you say, meaning it, finally able to laugh softly when he preens obviously at the praise.

“And have I been working out?” he’s definitely teasing you now, but you don’t mind so much, because his thumb is still slowly moving in circles over your fingers, which you’ve only just realised do feel rather cold.

“You’re always working out.” you tell him, your brows furrowing just a little but only for show. Jake fixes you with an amused expression and shakes his head. His hand tightens around yours just a little.

“Not always. Sometimes I take beautiful, lovely women out on dates.” he corrects you. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you blink at him, dazed.

“Sorry to interrupt your plans, then,” you joke, but it comes out a little more self-deprecating than you really mean. Jake narrows his eyes at you again.

“Are you questioning my tastes?”

“Almost always.”

“I’ll have you know that you are both beautiful, and inarguably lovely, Cricket.”

His words make you stare dumbly at him, mouth once more working like a fish to try and figure out what it is you’re supposed to say to that. You don't realise until it's too late that you’ve said those words aloud.

Jake smiles, full and wide and not teasing at all this time.

“You say ‘thank you, baby. This is the best date I’ve ever been on’,” he almost sing-songs.

“I’m not calling you ‘baby’!” you sputter, your brain going into overdrive at the thought of Jake calling you baby.

“Not yet you aren’t,” Jake blinks slowly at you, but he doesn’t back down from the statement, staring at you until you’re the one forced to look away, and he speaks again. “But I can be patient. I’ve been patient.”

You find yourself transfixed by what he could possibly mean by the fact that he’s been patient, but you don’t get the opportunity to ask, because your waiter returns and watch enamoured as Jake orders for you, not really that surprised that he knows what you want, but surprised that you’re so quickly becoming normalised to this behaviour from him.

Oddly, as dinner goes on, you almost forget that it’s Jake you’re with. He seems softer, gentler in a way that you hadn’t been aware existed within him, but in a way that you aren’t sure how you’re going to live without once he drops you home again and the spell is broken. In your minds eye, you realise that day to day you’ve seen glimpses of this Jake, when he’d wordlessly begun offering you a hand when you’d climb up to your jet around a year ago now, or how he’d normally complain about the amount of time everybody else took with their shots at darts, but sometimes when it was just the two of you he simply waits quietly for you to line yourself up properly, even occasionally giving you an ego-free pointer that always helped.

You wonder how often other people saw this side of Jake, and if you might be able to convince you into showing you more. For once his perpetual amusement and teasing seems to be at bay, and you’d like to think that this is the way he is in the quiet times, in the morning before his coffee, or in the grocery store. You can picture him in these times, but more importantly you want to see him in these times, more than you might have thought you would, more than out of simple curiosity.

His fingers lacing with yours after your plates are cleared makes you think once more of his talk of patience, and you wonder briefly if he wanted you to see him like this too.

“Absolutely not,” Jake quickly cuts in when you both stand by back near the entrance, reviewing the bill. The card you hold out, and the hand it’s in are engulfed suddenly by his much larger one, and even as the waiter smiles between the two of you, Jake doesn’t let you escape his grasp, holding you firmly in place as he hands his own card over.

“Jake!” you grumble, trying to pull your fist out of his, but he simply tightens his hold and gives the waiter a look like ‘can you believe this woman’.

“I’m so sorry about her, she hasn’t been taken out properly in a while, she’s forgotten all about how dates are supposed to work,” Jake tells the waiter conspiratorially, voice thick with faux-sympathy, like your cause was truly tragic. Your protests are fully silenced however, when he shoots you a pitying look, and brings your enclosed fist to his lips, kissing it softly like you were a sick puppy or something of the like.

You know he’s aware of the effect he has on you, it was why he teased you so much, but for the first time ever, you think he’s actually using it properly against you to get his way, and unfortunately, you aren’t even able to summon much annoyance about it. Quite the opposite in fact, his display makes your argument fall quiet and your heart skip several beats as he kisses your fingers tenderly again, before offering it back to you at last.

Quietly, you put your card away and bite your lip as he finishes paying.

—

“Jake,” you begin slowly, having taken most of the car ride so far to gather your thoughts together.

“Cricket,” Jake matches your tone and cadence, while shooting you an amused smile.

“Why did you hold my hand?” you try your best to ignore him, and shift slightly in your seat. Jake seems to shift too, but he only glances briefly over at you this time.

“Do you mean ‘why am I still holding your hand?’?” he squeezes your aforementioned hand, still in his grip and laying on the centre console. When he shoots you another amused grin, he’s met only with your pursed lips. Placing his gaze back toward the road, he rolls his eyes a little.

“Because I want to? I don’t know, feels kinda nice, don’t ya think?” Jake clears his throat a little, before a frown begins forming between his eyebrows and he seems to lurch. “Unless it doesn’t, in which case–” he begins to loosen his grip on you, but before you can think too much about what you’re doing, you tighten your own fingers laced through his, and give him an even more unimpressed look.

“So it does feel nice, note taken.”

You sit in silence for a few more minutes, in which time Jake begins slowly stroking his thumb across the back of your hand. When you do finally pull up to your apartment block, you feel the need to say something, but you don’t know what, so you keep quiet as Jake puts his car into park.

“Wait here,” he tells you and before you can really respond, he’s jumping out of the car and loping around to your side, opening the door with a gallant smile.

“You know, you’re a pretty good date, Jake,” you say softly, letting him take your hand once again and help you out of the car. Jake beams at you in an almost boyish manner that makes you want to squish his cheeks, but you refrain.

“Why thank you,” he says proudly, making you smile too.

You stand and stare at one another for a moment once you’re settled on your heels, and Jake cocks his head at you, before offering out his hand for you. Biting your lip slightly, you can’t help but look at your feet as you reach out and take the offered hand, feeling your chest go all warm again when he adjusts his hold to be more firm, and you both begin walking again.

Jake lets you take more of a lead, even though you know he knows where you live, considering he had been one of the friends you’d enlisted to help you move out of your old place. You can’t help but wonder if all this hand-holding was going to affect your friendship now, or what it even meant for your friendship. Your mind goes back to what Jake had said about patience at dinner, and what that meant.

Biting your lip again, you come to a stop in front of your apartment door, taking your hand back reluctantly so that you can pull your key from your purse and unlock your door.

“You aren’t going to cry again once I’m gone, are you?” Jake suddenly asks, making you blink back at him. He shoves both hands in his pockets and purses his lips. “Can’t be having that, now can we?” he says as if that explained his concern.

“No… No, I feel a lot better now,” you tell him, and you really do mean it. “Thank you for dinner.”

Jake stares at you, like he often does when he’s trying to make someone crack. Usually it worked pretty well on you, but you have nothing to crack over right now, so you simply stare back at him and shrug.

“I’m glad you feel better, Cricket. I don’t like seeing you upset.” Jake tells you, and even though his expression is humorous, his voice is stern and sincere, and it makes your stomach twist and turn violently in a way you’ve felt it attempt to do several times recently, but you’ve never let yourself linger on. It's as though all at once you can’t stop it, and an explosion of butterflies takes the place of all your internal organs.

“What was that?” Jake murmurs, and you blink at the step he takes forward, his brow furrowed in concern. You realise you’ve spoken the question that’s been on your mind out loud, and you swallow thickly as you try to gather yourself again.

“I… Earlier, you said you’ve been patient… what did that mean?” you ask, chewing the inside of your lip, wondering if you even want this question answered in the first place.

Jake cocks his head at you, and you can’t help but take note of how his lips quirk in the corners, like he thought it was adorable that you even had to ask.

“It means,” Jake begins, stepping even closer, and resting his arm on the wall above your head. “That about a year ago, I realised that I wanted to kiss you, and a year later, I still do.”

You stare up at him, and try to refrain from moving too much, as if he might disappear if you did.

“But only if you want me to,” he adds after a moment, beginning to peel back from you. Once more you don’t think too hard about what your body does, and you realise too late that your hand has shot out to rest against his chest, smoothing over his collar. Jake stops in his retreat and fixes you in his gaze again, even as your mouth opens and closes silently. You frown at your own inability to talk, and feel a pit begin to open in your stomach, sucking up the butterflies let loose there.

Jake frowns down at you, as if he can read your thoughts, and gently covers your hand with his own.

“Do you want me to?” he asks softly, and you’re glad he doesn’t make you say it, you aren’t sure you’re ready to ask yet, but you think he might understand this about you.

You nod at him and hold your breath as he seems to cock his head again. Briefly you see him smile, full and warm, but quickly you’re gasping softly as he kisses you.

Kissing Jake has been something you’ve refused to let yourself think about, repressing the thought so much that you’re truly surprised by how good he is at it. It makes sense, you think, that Jake would be a great kisser, and you’re fairly certain that you’ve never ever been kissed like this before, either. If this was what you’d been missing out on for a year, you feel foolish and idiot, because right now you vow that you will let Jake kiss you whenever he wants, wherever he wants from now on.

When at last he pulls away, you relish in the way his hand cups your cheek, thumb swiping back and forth tenderly.

“I don’t know about you, Cricket,” he says, making your chest flutter when he nuzzles at your nose sweetly. “But I think that feels kinda nice too, don’t you think?” he places another, much chaster kiss to your lips, and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh.

“Yes, Jake. I think it feels nice, too.”

@starlightstories @fox-bee926 @startrekfangirl2233 @izzyomfg @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388 @t-nd-rfoot @sehnsuchts-trunken @dagger-wren @bradshawsbitch @penwieldingdreamer @roleycoleyland @ussgallifrey just tagging some possibly interested folks!!!!

Little Things

Pairings: Jake Seresin x female reader. Synopsis: Jake takes care of his girl when she has her period. Warnings: mentions of period symptoms, infertility, depression. This is inspired by a lovely request I got from @callsignmaverick5

You groaned in agony, rolling onto your side and tucking your legs up so you were in a foetal position, hugging your knees close to your chest. The pain grew spreading across your lower abdomen and causing you to tense your muscles and wait for the pain to subside. Your period had been late which had you a little worried for the last few days, it wasn’t that you didn’t want kids. Both you and Jake really wanted kids but your period had come with a vengeance and now you were paying for it. You hadn’t been especially trying for kids, you and Jake had a great sex life, that man was like a horny teenager and could barely keep his hands off you. Closing your eyes slowly you willed the discomfort to stop, easing yourself further under the bed covers as the pain continued. You had been so caught up in your affliction that you didn’t hear Jake and the others come home, all piling into the living room chatting loudly to each other.

“Hang on a minute guys I’m just gonna check on her, make yourselves at home,” Jake said, making his way down the corridor to your shared bedroom. “Darlin’ are you in here?” He pushed open the door and was met with an empty room, minus a crumpled bed with a small figure hiding beneath the covers. “Baby girl, are you ok?” Jake perched on his side of the bed, leaning across and pulling the covers back to reveal your small, hunched form. “Oh, Darlin’,” he cooed, pushing the covers back the rest of the way and pulling you against him, immediately slipping his hand down to cradle your lower abdomen. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be this month,” he said looking down at you through hooded lashes. You could tell he was disappointed and you wanted to apologise to him but another wave of agony ripped through you and you doubled over, leaning into Jake’s side and whining. You could hear the others chatting amorously downstairs and Jake sighed. He had to admit he’d been looking forward to movie night with the gang, but he loved you more and right now you needed him.

“Don’t worry about me, Jake, I’m fine. Go spend time with the others. I know you’ve been looking forward to it.” You shuffled away from him and pulled the covers back up to your chin.

“Not a chance, Babygirl. I'm here for you Darlin’, remember ‘in sickness and in health’,” he used air quotation marks as he quoted your wedding vows, causing you to let out a small giggle.

“Right, I’ll kick the others out and then I’m getting paracetamol, a hot water bottle, ice cream and Bill Pullman and Sandra Bullock and then I’ll be right back, Baby.” You watched as Jake hurried away with his mental list of all your sickness supplies. You heard Jake talking quietly to the others who all complained loudly until Phoenix gave them a piece of her mind and they all went silent, departing your home respectfully and leaving you in peace. Jake was crashing around in the kitchen before reappearing in the doorway with a tray stacked high with all your essentials. He placed the tray down and moved over to you, helping you shuffle forward so he could place more pillows behind your back. He handed you the hot water bottle which you accepted gratefully, placing it onto your abdomen and immediately relaxing into the soothing warmth. Jake set up the DVD and sunk back onto the bed next to you as the titles for ‘While You Were Sleeping’ began playing through the small tv on the wall. It had always been your comfort film, ever since you were a kid you and your mum would watch it whenever one of you was sick and this had been a tradition that Jake had adopted too. He handed you a mug of hot chocolate and two paracetamol, giving you a small kiss on your forehead. “Better?”

“Much better,” you told him, snuggling into his side and cracking open the ice cream, it was triple chocolate which just so happened to be yours and Jake’s favourite. As you ate your eyes fixed on the screen, Jake’s large hand coming down to rest on your abdomen, holding the water bottle in place for you. Hs other arm was wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you impossibly close. These were the times you cherished most with your husband, not the grand gestures or great outbursts of love but the little things like comforting you on your period, doing the food shopping so you didn’t have to, making sure the laundry was done, cooking dinner if he was home early, these were the most thoughtful tasks Jake could perform in your eyes. Now snuggled into his side watching your favourite movie you couldn’t have loved him any more. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tag list: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @alexxavicry @a-reader-and-a-writer @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @sunlightmurdock @airedale17 @callmemana @shadowolf993 @t-nd-rfoot @topguncultleader @flyboyjake @wkndwlff

This was amazing! I loved it!!

7 things- Draco Malfoy

I probably shouldn’t say this But at times I get so scared When I think about the previous Relationship we shared

“I hate this,” Hermione Granger complains as she drops her bag onto the table opposite her best friend

“And what’s this?” The girl speaks with no emotion. She looks almost numb. Clearly tired of everything going on in her life.

“You. You being all sad and depressed. If you like Draco this much just be with him,”

“It’s more complicated than that and you know it,” she speaks in a harsh tone, her voice low as she glances up to see if Draco and his friends had heard the girl’s conversation.

“It doesn’t have to be. It’s like you guys went through all the drama of getting us on board for like 6 months and then just broke up,” Hermione comments, staring at her friend trying to work out what she can say to force her to go and tell her ex-boyfriend she’s still madly in love with him.

“Look, Draco decided that I wasn’t worth the trouble and that’s fine. I am fine. Clearly, he is fine. It’s all-”

“Fine you’ve said,” Hermione quips

“Then stop pushing Hermione,” she snaps. Hermione’s eyes widen a little, not expecting to the reaction but one glance at Draco, who has a slytherin girl from the year below draped across his lap in the library, is enough to let her know that her friends anger wasn’t directed at her.

“I can’t be here. I’ll see you later,” she gathers her books, stuffing them into her bag and exiting the library.

Hermione watches Draco, seemingly ignoring his friends as he watches her leave, his usual smirk replaced by a look Hermione isn’t quite sure what means but would bet meant he was as in love with her best friend as she was with him.

It was awesome, but we lost it It’s not possible for me not to care And now we’re standing in the rain But nothing’s ever gonna change until you hear My dear

Draco Malfoy was not a stalker, he was not the kind of boy that lurked around just to get a glimpse at a girl. Especially not a muggle born Gryffindor.

He repeats this over and over in his head, willing himself to turn around and walk around while he still can. He could leave right now and no one would ever have to know he was here.

But he couldn’t.

Watching her in her quidditch robe, drenched in mud and rain but seemingly happy as she laughs with Fred Weasley, he couldn’t just leave. No matter how much he wanted to.

She’s walking in his direction, her and Fred at the back of the group but they all walk relatively together. Oliver Wood, who is at the front of the team talking with George, is the first to see him, scowling as he mutters something to George who shoots Draco a dirty look.

She stops when she sees him.

“You go ahead Freddie,” she assures

“He’s an arrogant prick,” Fred mutters, purposely shoving Draco with his shoulder on his was past.

Once the team have retreated far enough to be out of ear shot she lets out a sigh.

“You’ll catch a cold standing around in the rain,” she comments

“Maybe,” He smiles gently before letting out a sigh  "I wanted to speak to you though,“

"We share almost all out classes. And they are inside, in the day, where it’s not pouring rain,”

“I know that,” he snaps, sighing a little “I couldn’t talk to you there. I-”

“Oh of course you couldn’t. Cause heaven forbid any of your little blood supremacist friends know you want to speak to me. Least of all your new girlfriend, Isabella right? Or is Lilliana this week?”

“Come on. You know they mean nothing,” He protests

“They mean enough that you’ll be seen with them in public. Which is more than I can say for me,”

“Well I wouldn’t wait around in the pouring rain for them,” He smiles gently, it drops when the scowl on her face doesn’t change

“Is that supposed to be romantic?”

“Kind of,” He smirks, she lets out a huff, trying to ignore how much she wants to kiss him

“What do you want?”

“To see how you are,” he shrugs

“I’m not your problem anymore Draco. We said we’d both tell our friends and I did and you didn’t and then you dumped me. So you don’t  get to check up on me anymore,” she states simply

“I still care about you,” he sighs, she could cry on the spot. She forced herself to stop crying over Draco Malfoy weeks ago, but now he’s so impossibly close and all she wants is him. She hated that she wanted him.

“Well you shouldn’t. Now get inside and warm up before you catch a cold,” she demands, he softens, hearing the slight crack in her voice but she slips past him before he can say anything else.

The seven things I hate about you The seven things I hate about you Oh, you You’re vain, your games, you’re insecure You love me, you like her You made me laugh, you made me cry, I don’t know which side to buy

“Mr Malfoy your partner is Miss Y/L/N, go and switch seats with Mr Weasley please,” Professor Snape demands, moving onto the next pairing of people.

Draco nods when his friends mutter condolences for being paired with her but on the inside his heart is hammering in his chest as he approaches her.

“Hi,” he smiles gently, dropping into the seat me to her

“Careful, someone will see,” she mutters, he chuckles under his breath, not wanting to draw any attention to them.

“As long as Lilliana doesn’t I’m all good,”

“You like her?” She questions, cocking her head to the side in curiosity.

Draco shrugs, beginning to slice the dandelion root as she works on the bat wings.

“Not as much as I like you,” he speaks, she rolls her eyes trying to fright the blush on her cheeks “That was smooth right?” He teases

“Until you ruined it by asking,” she smiles despite herself, he laughs, turning into a cough when Theo Nott turns around to look at them in curiosity.

“You really do care way too much what other people think Malfoy,” she comments

“Yeah,” he nods, surprising her a little when he doesn’t shoot her claim down.

“Right. Well. Stop doing that,” she stumbles a little over her words. He glances at her blushing cheeks.

He doesn’t do anything. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t scowl. Doesn’t smirk.

He just stares at her for a full minute before turning back to the cauldron.

Your friends, they’re jerks, and when you act like them, just know it hurts I wanna be with the one I know And the seventh thing I hate the most that you do You make me love you

“What the fuck are you looking at mudblood?” Lilliana, Draco’s new girlfriend, spits from under his arm.

She had been staring at Draco, wondering if he was as really happy and wishing he’d cared a little more.

“Not you, but that much is obvious,” she snaps back, getting to her feet from the bench on the courtyard she’d been sat, only half listening to Harry and Ron while the group waited for Hermione.

“And now you’re going to run off all scared? Pathetic,”

“If you think I’m scared of you, you’re wrong,”

“Not quite, I think you’re scared of my friends,” Lilliana speaks, pulling away from Draco’s grip and walking towards the girl “I think you’ve heard what we do to scum like you and you are scared,”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Ron demands, jumping to his feet and Harry doing the same

“Oh, oh Dray isn’t that precious? Mudblood’s hot herself a boyfriend,” Lilliana smirks

“Don’t call her that,” Harry snarls.

“My, my my, it’s  a love triangle,” she continues.

What hurts the most isn’t the words, it’s Draco. Draco who is still sat next to Blaise, Theo and Daphne with a passive look on his face.

The girl reaches for her wand but Harry’s hand jumps out to stop her.

“She’s not worth it. None of them are,” Harry grunts, really he means that Draco isn’t and she shouldn’t let him hurt her, pulling her away with Ron following behind, muttering something about sticking their heads up their asses.

She heard clear as day, Draco Malfoy’s laughter ringing through the air. He was truly just like them. Yet, when she glances over shoulder he raises an eyebrow in question asking if she’s okay, his friend’s blissfuly unaware of the interaction. It takes everything in her to keep her face blank and turn back around.

It’s awkward and silent as I wait for you to say But what I need to hear now, your sincere apology When you mean it, I’ll believe it If you text it, I’ll delete it Let’s be clear Oh, I’m not comin’ back You’re taking seven steps here

She is anxious as she sits in her seat in potions, waiting for Draco to arrive as she bounces her leg. She doesn’t know what will happen when he arrives.

Will he act like everything is normal?

Will he apologise for his friends behaviour?

Will he apologise for joining in?

Will he ignore her?

Will he mock her just as they had?

She glances up at the feeling of someone watching her. Eyes landing on Harry who has turned around to see if Draco has arrived, knowing his friend was anxious. He smiles. A comforting and warm smile that she tries to reciprocate although she fears it probably looked more like a grimace.

Draco sits down next to her, immediately his eyes are on her. He can tell she’s nervous. Her bouncing leg. Her eyes staring straight ahead. Her bottom lip drawn between her teeth as she chews on it. Anxious habits she hadn’t displayed due to his presence in a long time. His heart hurts a little.

He reaches his hand out, placing it gently on her knee to stop the bouncing and is pleasantly surprised when she doesn’t pull away from his touch.

“It’s just me. You don’t need to be nervous,” He whispers, butterflies in his stomach when she eases immediately, melting into his touch. Unable to stop herself when she loves him so much

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you,” he whispers.

His heart sinks when that seems to pull her to her senses. She jerks he knee away from him.

“You already did,” she speaks lowly and before he can reply Snape has entered the room.

Even when the class are told to work with their partner she remains silent. Draco doing the same. Unsure what to say. Glancing at her and his chest feels tight. He hurt her. He never wanted to do that and god did he love her and everything was a mess.

The class draws to an end and he knows this is his one shot at saying something.

“Look, I never should have ended it. I should have been brave enough to tell my friends- I just- I can’t explain it. I’m sorry,” He speaks quietly, hiding his voice from the other students in the loud hustle and bustle.

“That’s not what I want you to apologise for,” She states, shoving her book into her bag.

“Then for what?”

“You let them talk to me like that, you laughed along. That hurt me Draco. You have all this power over them and let you allow them to talk to me like that days after you tell me you care about me,”

She turns on her heel and marches towards her friends who are waiting for her leaving Draco to wonder how he ever thought that anything he was doing was okay.

The seven things I hate about you You’re vain, your games, you’re insecure You make me laugh, you make me cry I don’t know which side to buy Your friends, they’re jerks When you act like them, just know it hurts I wanna be with the one I know And the seventh thing I hate the most that you do You make me love you

Draco doesn’t see her at all on Saturday although he looks for her at every meal and forces his friends to hang out in the courtyard he knows she likes.

On Sunday though, she seems to be everywhere. At breakfast eating with the twins. By the quidditch pitch as he practices and she goes into Oliver’s captains office. Helping Ginny and Luna with some test prep in the library. Flirting with Dean Thomas at lunch.

It’s only a matter of time before his friends say something, he knows that, and sure enough when they enter the courtyard Pansy can’t keep her mouth shut.

The girls is lounging on a bench, head resting on her hand as she watches the game of exploding snap Harry and Ron are playing from their seats cross legged on the floor. Hermione is sat under the tree next to them, back against the tree as she reads a muggle fiction book. The group look utterly at peace as they enjoy the hot day.

“Oh look, everyone’s favourite mudbloods,” Pansy groans loudly, drawing the attention of the group.

“Shut the fuck up, Parkinson,” Ron snaps, turning back to his game.

“Dean Thomas seems to quite like one of them,” Daphne chimes, dropping onto the bench next to Theo a few feet away from them.

“Well he would, word on the street is that her blood isn’t the only thing that’s dirty. Apparently, she’s a whore,” Pansy jeers.

At this both Harry and Ron are on their feet, ready to defend their friend as Hermione moves to squeeze her hand comfortingly. What surprises everyone, including the crowd of people watching scene unfold, is that before the boys and Hermione can begin their defensive arguments Draco Malfoy speaks up.

“Shut up Parkinson, just cause you can’t get any,” He drawls, taking his seat on the bench, eyes trained to the girl who is staring back, utterly bewildered, next to Ron Weasley.

“Merlin Draco, anyone would think you fancied the girl,” Pansy smirks, in her mind there was no way the boy wouldn’t join in after that comment.

“Just cause I wouldn’t go near you with a 10 foot pole doesn’t mean you need to be so bitter. Now shut up and drop it,” He commands.

Pansy blushes a little but makes one more attempt

“She’s a mudblood Draco, what do you care what I say to her,”

“I told you to shut up and drop it, fucking listen to me or leave,” He practically growls and Pansy finally gets the hint that he means it, sinking to her seat in humiliation.

The crowd of people watching, all of which are in awe at this point, are only more shocked to see him shoot the girl a smile before turning back to his friends, “You were talking about your mother’s latest conquest Zabini,” He reminds. Blaise stumbles for a second, confused as to what on the earth is happening but with one sharp look from his best friend he continues with his story.

And compared to all the great things That would take too long to write I probably should mention the seven that I like

Draco is sat alone in the corner of the library, nose in a charms textbook and essay half written in front of him. He doesn’t notice anyone’s presence and jumps a little when she talks.

“Can we talk?” She asks timidly, looking around the quiet room, it’s late and the library is practically empty. He looks up at her with an unreadable expression “Here, I mean. I know we don’t talk much in public but-” He cuts off what he is sure will be a nervous ramble

“Take a seat,” He commands, it’s gentle though. Soft enough she could easily say no.

She doesn’t though. She takes the seat opposite him as he puts his quill down.

“What’s up?” He questions

“I just wanted to thank you. For defending me earlier and getting her to stop,”

“Well, she was wrong. You aren’t a whore and no one has the right to call you that,” He shrugs casually

“Would you have stopped her if she hadn’t said that? If she had just called me a mudblood I mean?” She asks the question timidly, fingers ringing together on the desk, she stares as she can’t quite bring herself to look at him.

“Yes. You were right, I have the power to make them stop and I never did. I should have. I care about you and I like you, merlin I might even love you, and I let what everyone else thought and what they would say stop me from being happy, I do that a lot, but I never should have let them hurt you. I won’t forgive myself for that,”

She glances up at him, wondering if she can believe him, but something about the look on his face and the gentleness of his eyes makes her believe him.

“Thank you,”

“I know it’s probably too late, but could I ever win you back?”

“Yeah. Easily, lord knows I’m half in love with you already, but I can’t put myself through it again. I can’t be someone’s secret,” She explains, he nods “I’ll see you around Draco. Thanks again,”

The seven things I like about you Your hair, your eyes, your old Levi’s When we kiss, I’m hypnotized You make me laugh, you make me cry But I guess that’s both I’ll have to buy Your hand in mine When we’re intertwined, everything’s alright I wanna be with the one I know

The next two weeks the entire school seems to be watching. Curious as to why all of a sudden Draco Malfoy is smiling at her in the corridor. Why none of his friends even look at her funny. Why they are laughing together in potions. The shift in their relationship is the talk of the school and everyone seems to care.

It’s a Saturday morning and she is walking towards the black lake where most the school were, her friend group included, having decided to meet them down there after she wrote back to her mother.

Draco is leaving his dorm, on his way to look for her. Draco Malfoy is a man on a mission.  A look of determination on his face and a fire in his eyes. Having received a letter from home that morning, full of complaints and faults he was done. He was done trying to be the perfect son. He was done trying to live up to expectations. He was done making himself unhappy. Most importantly, he was done pushing away love.

His eyes fall on her the second he exits the castle, she’s a few metres ahead, smiling happily and greeting Neville Longbottom on her way past. Draco can just about make out her voice telling him to come and find her and some other Gryffindors later to join their drinks and party games. It was game night in the Gryffindor common room, something she had told Draco already in potions.

Neville scurries past Draco as he speeds up, falling into step beside the girl. He grabs her hand in his and continues walking like nothing is happening. She, however, stills forcing him to stop too, a few feet in front of her.

“What?” He questions casually, she looks between him and their hands a few times, blinking in confusion.

“Dray,” She sighs, she wasn’t angry but also she didn’t want to be led on. Didn’t want to be so close only to have him drop her hand the minute anyone sees.

“I don’t want you to be my secret. I like you a lot and you are way too good to be anyone’s secret. I don’t care what anyone thinks, not my friends, not your friends, not my parents. You mean everything to me and I’m not letting you slip through my fingers, so for merlins sake let me hold you hand while I walk you to your friends,” He rambles, unaware she feels like she’s floating.

She grins, pressing a kiss to his cheek

“I think you missed,” He smirks, she giggles a little, a sound Draco wants to hear on repeat for the rest of his life, before pressing her lips to his.

She pulls away way to quickly for Draco’s liking “I like you a lot too,”

“Come back here and kiss me then,” he pouts dramatically

“I thought you mentioned walking me to my friends,” She teases

“You think you’re so funny,” he complains, hands gripping her waist to pull her back to him. Chest to chest as she beams up at him.

“No you definitely said it, besides, good boyfriends walk their girlfriends places,” she smirks.

“Boyfriend?”

“You know you want to be,” She shrugs

“I do,” he grins “But from what I heard, good girlfriends kiss their charming and attractive boyfriends,”

“Add the word needy to the description and it’ll fit you,”

“And then I get a kiss?”

“It’s what the good girlfriends do,” She agrees, a teasing smile on her face

“All right. Fine. When it comes to you I can be a little needy, but only for you and you can’t tell anyone-” She cuts off Draco’s ramble by leaning up and pressing her lips back to his.

And the seventh thing I like the most that you do You make me love you

**

Masterlist

Omg this was so great!!! I loved it soo much!!

cosy cafe ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: “could i ask for a fem!reader x spencer where they meet at the coffee shop or cafe?? whether the reader is a customer or works there is totally up to you but i just love reading meet cute fluff and you’re one of the best writers for fluff that ik🥺” 6k (im so sorry)

warnings: swearing, reader gets cuts by glass, blood, mention of patting spencer reid’s genitals dry

masterlist

Under the counter, fiddling with some pipes that should really be seen by a professional, you try not wriggle in pain when your co-worker kicks you with her boots.

“He’s here!” She hisses, bending at the waist to spit at you in a panic before standing upright again. You’re still wincing, holding where she hit.

She’s bumbling above you, fixing her hair. You hear the distinct sound of her wet tongue clicking in her mouth as she checks her teeth for any food stuck between them.

You know who’s at the counter before he even speaks. You’re paralysed under the sink, cursing that his schedule means he doesn’t have a set time he visits despite being a regular customer. Now you’re stuck, cramped in the gross and dingy underbelly of the surface Autumn is about to use (to make his favourite drink – coffee with the café’s special syrup that is way too sweet for even some children), all because you refuse to face the person you humiliated yourself in front of the first time you saw him.

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