#I’ve rather liked everything I’ve written

[xetlynn]

Can I ask for claggor x a piltover reader? She was raised in piltover and is very smart but was never ignorant to the condition of zaun and always tried her best to advocate and help the suffering people. I can imagine she would have a strong sense of guilt for loving claggor because she doesn't really understand the struggles he went through but will always try to help. <33 thank youuuu

Of course, I think I made this a little more dramatic than I meant to😭 but I hope this is good!

Arcane Imagines- Claggor

Mysterious

[arcane] [main page]

Prompt: In which reader is from Piltover and makes a friend in Zaun. Feeling guilty for liking him since she doesn't understand his struggles.

My feet achingly moved seemingly before me. My back hurt as I carried a box full of stuff from Piltover to give to a friend in the undercity.

When I was younger I was so fascinated by the people of Zaun. About the difficulties they’ve been through. My mother was always bitter about them. Going on tangents about how the people from the undercity should be more grateful since everything is better now. And whenever she does that I have to remind her of their struggles to get to this wonderful position they’ve been creating for themselves. Supporting them only pisses her off further than before. She asks what about Piltover’s struggles which is never the point of my argument. 

We’re privileged enough to never know what it’s like going without food, running water and a roof being over our heads. Most of Zaun could or still to this day can not say the same. It’s something I’ve written about in school essays, joining groups to learn more about the undercity. 

As a younger teen I snuck into Zaun, wanting to understand them better, know them rather than read about their history. Hear it from the people themselves. I won’t truly ever know their struggles but I still wish to help them. Advocate for their history and their growth as a community. Help them be one with Piltover eventually without there being discourse of if they deserve it. 

Everyone deserves happiness, love, and a life without ridiculous danger. They deserve peace as much as the next person.

I was reckless when going to Zaun. Sneaking out of my house as a teen and somehow to the undercity without being caught will forever blow my mind. The reason I kept doing it though was after I sat down in this bar. It’s called The Last Drop. I just needed a place to rest after walking for miles. 

Talking with the people there. Not really a scene a young teenager should be in but I didn’t care. I just wanted to listen to their stories. And they always enjoyed having me around. Seeing me as a niece of some sort.  Hearing the first one made me want to hear more. Hence why I kept coming back. And more recently there's a new reason.

I met a new friend. His name I still don’t know. He never properly introduced himself to me. Not by his birth given name but by the first letter. He wanted me to guess. 

It’s been 3 months and he has yet to tell me what it is. Or in his words I didn't guess good enough.

I guess his father was the owner, Vander is his name. I’ve met him a few times but I never sat up at the actual bar. Just in a corner keeping to myself before I went to adventure out into Zaun after hearing random stories.

When I met C he had started working more hours at the bar to help out since it was getting busier and busier after some time with people from the Uppercity decided the place was a hit. I guess he worked earlier shifts so that’s why we never crossed paths when I first started going there. 

C and I hit it off slowly in the beginning.  

It was a rough start since we both had different upcomings. I didn’t know what it was like to have to get my hands dirty and work for things I want or need. I’ve always just… had it. 

Talking about C’s childhood and things he went through as I had nothing bad to say except for the fact that my mother is a witch of a woman. It made me realize how weird I am for being so interested in others' lives. It made me realize I don’t have a life of my own. I want to fix people who don’t need to be fixed. They’re perfect the way they are, no matter what they went through. They don’t need me to stick up for them. I also figured out that I’m falling for a friend, who again… I don’t know the name of and we will never share a similar story. He deserves someone who understands the same livelihood he knows. Someone who can appreciate things more than I ever could.

“[Name]!” A voice shouts, shaking me from my thoughts. “C!” I grin, shimmying the box in my hands. “Is this everything?” He takes it from me with furrowed eyebrows, looking it over. “Mhm, every single thing you asked for.” I place my hands on the back of my hips, stretching to crack my back. Letting out a small sigh of relief afterwards. 

“You alright?” He asks with a chuckle, leading me into his apartment that he and his brother share. “Yeah, I definitely got my exercise in for the day.” I half-heartedly joke, shutting the door behind us and he places the box down on the counter. “What is the food for, exactly?”

When he first requested the stuff from me, he told me it was for an experiment. Not really saying much after that. A few foods and then things you can really only get in Topside. 

“To eat.” He grabs an apple and bites into it. My shoulders fall, not expecting that answer. For some reason I thought it was going to be something cooler. “Oh.” I let out a breathy laugh. “I was hungry when I was putting in that request.” He rubs his stomach sadly. 

I shake my head with a smile. “It’s okay. So can I know what this project is now?” I hop up on the barstool in his kitchen. “It’s a secret.” He says briefly, putting the food away in his counters. I frown. “Dang, keeping another thing from me, C?” I tilt my head. 

“Gotta keep you on your toes, by being a mysterious, interesting man. Don’t want you getting sick of me.” He quipped, now giving me his full attention after placing the box on the ground. I glanced down at it then back to him. “I’ll always find you interesting. Maybe even more if you just tell me your name.” I pout.

Have I mentioned that I don’t know his name? No? Yeah, don’t know it. 

“Soon.” He reaches over and messes up my hair. I smack his hand away. Attempting to fix what he did. “I hope so.” I cross my arms. 

“I wish you could guess it. You didn’t even try hard enough.” He exclaims, my jaw drops at his words. “I can’t think of anything else! It has to be some sort of crazy unique name!” I utter, throwing my hands in the air. He lets out a belly laugh, “It’s not super unique.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes, jokingly annoyed. “I told you my name.” I murmur. “That’s because you’re not mysterious like me.” He purses out his lips, doing a little peace sign. “I know almost everything else about you. You are not mysterious.” I point a finger at his chest. “Really? What’s my favorite color?” 

“You tell people it’s blue but it’s actually yellow. Like dandelion yellow.” I raise my brows, making a face that expresses that he should try me. “Okay, pssh, lucky guess. Favorite food?” 

“Halibut, but only when it’s fried because you’re weird.” I tease, his eyes seem to widen at my words. “See, not so mysterious, huh?” I cross my arms. “Two things. That’s all you answered.” He walks away over to the living room. Plopping down on the couch. I stand up, rushing over to him. Bouncing on the cushion beside him. My hands holding his shoulder as I shake him. “Then ask more questions. I have the answers~” I sang out, leaning back. 

“Fine, how old am I?” He raises a brow. I put a finger on my chin, pretending like I was thinking. “21.” I simply say. “Okay, I never told you that. How’d you get that?” He scrunches his nose in confusement. I laugh. “Honestly I truly guessed that time. I’m 21 and I always figured we were the same age.” I snicker. 

“Wow, okay. Next question, how many siblings do I have?” I think back to conversations we’ve had or the time I bumped into his brother Mylo. He always talks about a girl named Powder. I want to say there’s one more though. I just can’t remember…

“... three?” I estimate. “Or two.” I perk up my posture. “Hm, it’s three. You really do listen.” He hums out. “Yeah, it’s Mylo, Powder and I’m sorry but I don’t think I ever got the last one’s name.” I press my lips together, trying to rack it in my head. “Violet. She passed away when we were younger.” He sighs, I look at him through my eyelashes not wanting to make full eye contact as my heart drops.. 

“I’m sorry.” I whisper. “It’s alright, [Name]. You didn’t know.” He gives me a smile. It goes silent between the both of us. “Um… can I ask how? If not I totally understand. I don’t want to push that topic.” I shake my hands at the thought of forcing him to say something he wasn’t comfortable with.

“We were doing a stupid thing in Piltover. Sneaking into someone’s house. Just trying to get a few things for our dad. Extra money in his pocket. Something exploded. The impact unfortunately killed Vi.” He seems spaced out as he tells the story. I reach out and grab his hand.

I remember when that incident happened. It was all anyone talked about for a while. An undercity child passes away in an explosion after breaking into a scientist’s home. My mom… was an ass about the situation. 

“Any more questions?” I make an effort to switch the conversation so he doesn’t get upset due to my questioning of his sister's death like the dumb idiot that I am.

He looks down at my hand that was on top of his. “Claggor.” He suddenly says. I scrunch my eyebrows together. “Claggor?” I question, was that something I had to answer? “My name.” He mutters out. 

My mouth goes into the shape of an 'o.' Claggor... An interesting name for an interesting man like him.

“Hm… cute. It fits you.” I squeeze his hand before letting go. I didn’t even notice the dusty rose color across his cheeks. He mutters out a small thanks before we continue the conversation of me knowing certain things about him.

The entire time I think back to his sister, my chest aching. They were only kids trying to help their father. Not knowing that one of them wasn’t going to make it back home. How devastating. 

“You okay, [Name]?” He sits up, turning his body to face me. I fake a smile, waving him off. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just thinking. Sorry.” How am I supposed to be his friend if I carry guilt that has nothing to do with me? How can I like him and not be able to understand him? It’s idiotic looking. It makes me look selfish, turning other people's problems into my own. “Thinking about?” 

“Your name. How I never guessed it.” I force out a chuckle that sounds like a high pitched animal making me wince in embarrassment afterwards. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks me again. 

“I’m fine, Claggor.” His name rolls off my tongue easily. Like it was meant to be said from my lips.

“I remembered I have somewhere I need to be. My mom will kill me if I’m late. See you later?” I ask him, blinking tears away as I abruptly get up. “Um, yeah. Tomorrow?” He gets up with me, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, I can’t. Family thing.” I lied. “Oh, maybe the next night? Mylo wants me to go to this party where his crush is djing. I do not want to go.” He laughs, walking me to his front door. My stomach flips, not knowing how to respond. “Maybe, I’ll let you know the day of.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Okay, okay. I don’t mean to cling. I just like spending time with you.” He smiles softly. I avoid eye contact. “Me too, Claggor.” I whisper before pulling him into an embrace. 

He lets out a small yelp of surprise before his hands slowly snake around my waist. “You’re a good friend, [Name].” He mumbles into my shoulder. Tears begin to threaten my eyes once again. “You’re a better one.” I pat his back before letting go. “See you.” I curtly wave before leaving. 

Man, I’m an idiot. 

It’s the day of the party, I haven’t left my bed since I came home after leaving Claggor’s house. My head racing with a million thoughts about how selfish and ridiculous I am. Cringing at all the conversations I’ve had with my friends about the Undercity. How incredibly obnoxious it always sounded. 

How strange I look just being this upset about everything. I wonder if Claggor thought the same about me. How strange it was that a girl was so wrapped up into his struggles. I would never want to tell him that either because I’m overthinking. I know I am. 

He’s my friend. He would tell me if I was being over the top.

Right? 

Right.

Stop it brain. 

A knock at my door echoes in my room. “Yes?” I call out, not bothering to get up. The door creaks open. “[Name] there’s someone here to see you.” A house worker tells me. I sit up, tilting my head confused on who would be here. “Um, tell them I’ll be right down.” I say, climbing out of bed. “Yes, ma’am.”

I grab my robe from my vanity, throwing it on over my pajamas. I slip my feet into my house slippers. I look like a mess but I don't care. It’s probably just a school mate to ask about some homework we have. 

I exit my room, heading down the stairs. I see Claggor and my body freezes in place. Staring down at him. Shit. I look like a mess! And that is not a school mate. 

He was looking around my home before his eyes locked with mine. His face erupts into a smile. “Just wake up or something?” He teases and my face flushes in response. “Uh- yeah, slept in.” I awkwardly chuckle, walking towards him. “How’d you know my address?” I asked him. “Also, why are you here?” 

“Well, first I bumped into one of your friends I met before. She told me you lived here. Second ouch, I can just leave if you want me to.” He points to the front door and I roll my eyes. “Sorry, sorry. I was just wondering, I was gonna come to you.” I cross my arms, and when I do his eyes flicker down to what I’m wearing.

Suddenly I’m extremely aware of how I look. My hair a mess, face puffy, and wearing a fancy robe with slippers. Weird combination. 

“I felt like when you left yesterday it was a bit… off? You seemed like you were about to cry so I thought I’d come here and maybe talk to you about that.” He fidgets with his hands, I observe his demeanor. He seemed extremely anxious. “Oh, I told you I was fine. Might’ve had something in my eye.” I shrug lying straight out of my teeth. 

“You know how I said you are not mysterious like me?” He asks. “Vaguely.” I smile but not understanding why he’s saying that. “It’s because you aren’t a mystery at all. Maybe I’m not either since you seem to know quite a bit about me. Anyways, not the point.” He lets out a heavy breath. “You don’t hide your emotions well. You’re an open book just by looking at you.” He chuckles and I tense up, feeling a little offended. He notices and sighs.

“What I mean is, when I first met you I knew you were a very empathetic person. Your emotions are what drives you to be who you are. I really enjoy that about you. I never thought someone could cry over a bug they killed until I met you.” He laughs at the memory of when we were hanging out one day at the bar and a bug was on the floor by my foot. I stomped on it and immediately felt bad. Thinking about the fact that it could’ve had a family. 

“You care so deeply for people you’ve never met. Wanting them to succeed even if it means you are risking your own happiness to do so.” He says softer than all his other words. “I hope you know that you have never upset me by asking your questions.” His eyes find mine and I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. He read me like a book. He practically studied me. I don’t even know how to respond. 

“I know that’s why you got upset. My sister passing away. I don’t mind that you asked. It happened as unfortunate as it is. You didn’t know and you wanted to. Because you care.” He places a hand on my shoulder. I look down at his arm then back to his face. “Please don’t feel bad for caring.” 

My eyes begin to water and I pull him into a hug. “I don’t deserve your friendship.” I mumble into his chest. “I think you do.” He disagrees. 

“I like you, Claggor.” I told him. “Like a lot. I care for you more than anyone else I’ve ever met. I’m scared that I can’t be what you need. I want to be. Everything and more.” I confess, pulling away from him. “Did you know that? Was I not hiding that emotion well either?” I try to uplift the mood. 

“I didn’t have a clue actually.” He grins. “I like you as well. Like a lot. You are everything I need and more. I promise you that.” He pulls me back into his arms, looking down at me as I look up at him. 

He closes the distance between us, his lips landing on mine. It was a short, soft kiss but it was something I never felt before. Shivers sent down my spine. I flutter my eyelids open, both of us smiling ear to ear like giddy little kids. Taking in the moment for a few seconds.

“Does that mean you’re going to join me at this party that I’m soooo excited about?” He sarcastically asks and I giggle in response. “I guess so. I definitely need to clean myself up first though.” I motion to my hot mess of a state that I’m in. “I think you look beautiful in this. Don’t even need to worry about changing.” He jokes and I lightly hit his arm. 

“What a liar.” I fold my arms. “Hm, maybe a little. Want me to come back to pick you up?” 

“You could hang out in my room while I get ready. Maybe choose my outfit?” I propose and his eyes light up. “Yeah, let’s go.” He happily responds. 

[snowpetrichor]

Reunited at Last

I’ve written my own fanfics over the years, but I’ve never had the guts to post anything… I’ve finally decided to change that! This is a snippet from a DAV rewrite I'm working on. The scene is supposed to be in act 3 so I wouldn't have written it for a while, but I found myself daydreaming about it and I had to get it out of my system with a drabble.

I figured I’d take a chance and share it with my fellow solavellans. :)

Word count: 754

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Ellana reached out a hand to wipe away the tears that had already begun to fall down his cheeks. The caress was feather-light, but waves of emotion shone in her eyes, and Solas felt something in him snap. He surged forward to catch her waist and held onto her like a drowning man might grasp a buoy. The strength of his love for her always seemed to send him reeling. Ellana stiffened, a surprised noise escaping her, but soon enough her hand came to rest on the back of his head.

Even in their years apart, whenever he caught a hint of lavender on the wind or tasted honey on his tongue, he was reminded of the fragrance she wore – spring flowers distilled to a sugar-sweet perfume. The Dalish had to make do with the tidings that nature offered them, so Ellana had learned to craft the scent herself. It was soft and fresh and so unique to her. Now, that sweetness seemed as if it would overtake him. His world narrowed to her touch, her warmth, and her heartbeat. Solas twined his fingers with hers and quietly wept for all that they had endured.

From the outside, the whole thing would have looked rather awkward – even sitting on the bed, Solas was still much taller than his heart, and he bowed to hold her in his arms. But there was nobody there to judge, and he wouldn’t have cared much anyway. He whispered her name over and over, uttering endearments like a prayer.

Vhenan, my heart, my love.

Ellana, Ellana, Ellana.

Oh. He almost never used her given name. She had first been Inquisitor, later vhenan, but never Ellana. Its soft syllables had only fallen from his lips once, and that thought brought a rush of unbidden memories. On her knees in front of a mirror, his desperate eyes searching hers before that final goodbye. One last kiss to give her strength for the years to come. She strongly suspected that he lost himself to grief in those moments after he went through the eluvian, and it tortured her to know that he shouldered such a burden alone for so long. Ellana lowered herself to sit by his side, wrapping her arms around him as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. A moment passed in gentle silence.

“Ir abelas, vhenan,” he sighed. “Despite everything, that you still stand by my side is…” Solas trailed off, seemingly lost for words as his gaze grew downcast. Ellana pulled back to study him. She cupped his cheek in her palm, turning his face back towards her.

“Emma lath, you remember my promise, don’t you? Var lath vir suledin.” She tried for a smile even as her voice wobbled; she tasted the salt of her own tears on her lips and realized absently that she had started to cry.

“You are my home, Solas. You have been since the very first moment I met you.” Ellana guided his hand to her breast, holding it softly against her heart. “So long as my heart beats, I will stand by your side.”

His chest was tight with emotion. There was pain – the pain of realizing that he could have spent the last decade in her arms if he so chose, the pain of living with a lifetime of sins, and the pain that came as he acknowledged how alone he had truly been. But there was also love. So, so much love. He was finally free to live as himself – as Solas – and there were no words to express the torrent of feelings that danced within him. He wanted to weave stories in her ears and share the wisdom that he knew would enrapture her. He wanted to take her in his arms, tangling their forms together until time fell away. He wanted to bare himself to her, to show her his soul, his spirit, and witness hers in turn.

He wanted to give her the world, but the world was no longer his to give.

So instead, Solas pulled her down to lie by his side. They breathed together and wiped away each other’s tears. Ellana pressed her forehead to his and he weaved a hand into her hair, cradling each other as they let the tides of the Fade take them. There would be plenty of time for more passionate embraces down the line, but for now, it was enough for two tired souls to exist as one, reunited at last.

[poppyseed799]

btw I don’t know if this is a thing anyone is thinking about but I’m not gonna stop drawing Jimmy as a canary. It’s a lovely bird. It’s still something that’s been really important to his series. There’s no reason to drop the canary headcanon just cuz Lizzie fell into the void.

[bakery-anon]

Praying my coffee is strong enough to get me through today omg

[mars-ipan]

it’s really weird being trans and going to the doctor when you don’t plan on transitioning medically

[fujii-draws]

Pt 2 (getting into more positives!!)

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

[nhlclover]

ALL'S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR QUINN HUGHES

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader, (little bit of) jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: trevor invites you to a lakehouse for the summer, attempting to set him up with his friend. however, the summer doesn't go to plan when you meet his older brother who captures your eye and flips everything upside down.

warnings: very obviously angst, sort of a love triangle, jack and quinn kind of hating each other, slow burn, reader and trevor having a sibling type relationship, one singular kiss, brief appearances from trevor & luke

word count: 11.6k

notes: wooooo mama this is the absolute longest thing i've ever written. i really hope you guys enjoy it, i'm pretty happy with this.

The scene of the lake house standing tall in front of you was something straight out of your imagination. It was picturesque, the way the large house was nestled amongst the pine trees and the glimmering water sparkling behind it. It was just the way that Trevor had described it when he invited (or rather insisted) you to come to his buddy’s lake house this summer.

“You’ll love it! It’s so nice up there,” Trevor had urged, his enthusiasm infectious. You could still hear his voice, brimming with excitement. “It’s my friend Jack’s place. You guys would get along great! And his brothers are super chill too.”

At the time, you’d felt a mix of curiosity and skepticism. It’d been about three years you’d been friends with Trevor, long enough to know that when his tone got this excited and he was this insistent, he was up to something.

“Are you trying to set me up with him?” you’d asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Trevor as the two of you sat in a coffee shop a few months ago. He had been uncharacteristically fidgety, bouncing his knee up and down while stirring his iced coffee with an unnecessary amount of focus.

Trevor had grinned at you in that annoyingly charming way he did when he was caught. “Nooo, I’m just saying you guys would vibe. He’s a cool guy. Super chill.”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “Uh-huh. And his brothers?”

“Also cool!” Trevor leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But listen, Jack’s the one I think you’d really like. Just come for like, a week or two, see what happens. No pressure. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You’d hesitated, not entirely convinced. But Trevor knew exactly how to play on your curiosity, and a month later, you found yourself packing a bag for a summer getaway at some lake house owned by Trevor’s friend, Jack. Despite your reservations, a part of you was intrigued. What if Trevor was right?

The drive to the lake house had been a blur, punctuated by Trevor’s nonstop chatter and your own uncertain silence. You weren’t opposed to meeting Jack. Trevor had sung his praises for months, claiming you two had more in common than either of you realized. As far as setups went, this wasn’t terrible — you could trust Trevor to have good judgment. But still, you were unsure and slightly uneasy about the whole situation.

When you arrive, Jack is already waiting outside, leaning against the porch rail, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. He’s smiling — an easy, laid-back smile that makes you smile back automatically. The sun filters through the trees, casting warm, gold light on the porch, and for a moment, everything feels serene.

Trevor wasn’t lying when he commented about Jack’s appearance. “Some people call him a pretty boy but… I mean he is pretty, but he’s a good-looking dude, y’know?” He was definitely attractive, something anyone could admit you thought, but he wasn’t totally your type.

Trevor bounds up the steps of the porch, dapping up Jack and pulling him in for a hug. You followed, stopping at the bottom of the steps, watching as Trevor whispered something into Jack's ear, Jack’s eyes catching yours as a small smile appeared on his lips.

Jack steps forward, extending a hand. “Hey, you must be y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, his voice warm with that relaxed confidence you’d expect from someone who’s used to being the center of attention.

You shake his hand, feeling the easy smile on your face widen a little. “All good things, I hope.”

Trevor laughs, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “Mostly good things.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

Jack offers to give you a quick tour of the place, and you agree, letting him guide you inside while Trevor stays back, grumbling to himself about having to bring in your bags. The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside, with high ceilings, wooden beams, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the lake. Despite being a new build, it has a cozy, rustic feel to it. Jack pointed out each room as you went, keeping up a steady flow of conversation that put you at ease. He was friendly and thoughtful, making sure you felt welcomed, and it struck you as genuine. You could see why Trevor thought you’d get along with him.

“And this is the back deck,” Jack said as he pushed open a sliding door, revealing a sprawling view of the lake, with a dock stretching out in front of the property. The lake is glittering and relatively calm, aside from a figure disturbing the water. You squint, watching as the swimmer glides smoothly through the lake.

“Who’s that?” you ask Jack, eyes not leaving the figure as you watch him pull himself up onto the wooden dock, pushing dark wet hair from his face.

“That’s Quinn,” Jack says, following your gaze and glancing out toward the dock. “My older brother.”

The sun seems to linger on Quinn’s form, highlighting the toned muscles in his arms as he stretches briefly, rolling his shoulders to ease out any lingering tension from his swim. Droplets of water cling to his skin, catching the sunlight and tracing down his chest in slow, winding trails emphasizing the smooth contours of his muscles as they glisten.

“Q!” Jack shouts, whistling to get his brother’s attention. Quinn’s gaze snaps to the two of you, your pulse quickening as his eyes land on you. “Come up here!”

Quinn grabs his towel from the dock, throwing it over his shoulder as he makes his way up the lawn towards you. As he climbs the steps to the deck, you feel his eyes travel over you, not in a way that feels intimidating, but with a curiosity that mirrors your own. There’s something magnetic about him, something calm and steady that draws you in as he steps up onto the deck, his mouth curving into a small, barely-there smile.

“This is Trevor’s friend, y/n. She’s joining us for the summer” Jack introduces.

As Quinn’s gaze flickers back to you, you notice there’s something about the way he looks at you — subtle, assessing. His gaze has a certain depth, a look you can’t quite decipher. It lingers just a second longer than what feels typical, enough to make your heartbeat skip, to leave you questioning the flicker of interest in his expression.

“Nice to meet you,” Quinn says, his voice low and smooth, a perfect complement to the quiet confidence he exudes. He reaches out to shake your hand, and as your fingers meet, you notice how warm his touch feels, even with the cool water droplets still lingering on his skin.

Up close, he’s even more striking. There’s a sort of ruggedness to him, outlined by the sharpness of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. His eyes, a greenish shade of blue, hold yours with a calm intensity that makes it hard to look away.

“Nice to meet you too,” you manage, your voice coming out softer than you intended, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You mentally kick yourself, hoping he doesn’t notice, but the glimmer in his eyes suggests otherwise.

Jack, oblivious to the undercurrent, clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Alright, well, there’s more to see, and if we don’t get back, Trevor’s going to start whining about being abandoned,” he joked.

You chuckle, your eyes pulling away from Quinns’ for the first time since he joined you on the porch. But as you turned to follow Jack back inside, you couldn’t help but glance back at Quinn. He was still watching you, his expression softened just slightly, and you felt a quiet thrill at the way he watched you.

The first week at the lakehouse passes in a flurry of days that blur together in laughter and lakeside relaxation. You fall into an easy routine of swimming, grilling, and long talks on the deck. Jack and Trevor keep things lively, always organizing something, whether it’s an impromptu game of cornhole, a daring cliff dive, or a spontaneous trip into town.

With Jack, the connection forms fast. He’s lighthearted, quick with a joke, and endlessly charming. He keeps you laughing and keeps the vibe lighthearted. His energy is infectious, and he keeps you roped into every activity, whether it’s cliff-jumping or getting you to help him with dinner when it’s his turn. You can tell that Trevor’s plan to get the two of you set up is working for Jack, as he lingers closer, laughs harder at your jokes, and you begin to feel his gaze linger on you just a little too long.

But it’s Quinn who holds your attention in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Quinn is different from Jack in nearly every way. Where Jack is open and quick to draw you into his orbit, Quinn lingers on the edges, observing and listening. When he speaks, it’s with a low, steady voice that commands attention without trying. And unlike Jack’s energy, which feels like the buzz of the sun overhead, Quinn’s is deep and mysterious like the lake.

You find yourself gravitating toward him at every opportunity, captivated by the way he moves through the days with an unruffled calm. The nights at the lake house slip into an easy rhythm, with Quinn and you inevitably being the last ones awake as the both of you are night owls. Most nights, you find yourselves lingering on the porch, wrapped in the gentle hum of crickets and the low whisper of the lake. With the others upstairs, fast asleep, you and Quinn fall into intimate conversations, shared only between the two of you.

One night, you find yourselves tucked away on the porch, the air a little cooler than the other nights. You are curled up on a rocking chair, bundled up in a hoodie you’d borrowed from Jack. Quinn sat across from you, the beer he’d started during dinner going warm in his hand.

Quinn studies you, his eyes catching the faint glow of the porch light as he swirls his bottle absentmindedly. “So,” he begins, breaking the comfortable silence, “What’s California like?” He leans forward, genuinely interested, his voice carrying a warmth that makes you want to spill everything about life on the West Coast.

A soft smile creeps onto your face. “It’s… different from here,” you admit, glancing out at the lake where the moon dances on the still water. “It’s a bit fast-paced. And warm. Lots of sun, lots of people. But sometimes, it feels like everyone’s moving so quickly that you get lost in the crowd.”

Quinn nods, his eyes steady on you. “I get it. I feel the same way about Vancouver sometimes. Coming back here… it just reminds me that there's more than the noise and rush. There’s… balance out here.” He gestures out toward the lake, his voice contemplative. “Like all of this has a way of pulling you back to what matters.”

His words resonate deeply, and you find yourself nodding. “Exactly,” you murmur. “It’s like there’s space to breathe. And you notice things that usually get lost in all the… chaos.”

Quinn’s gaze lingers on you a moment longer, a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you came. It’s been… good to have you here,” he says quietly, his eyes soft. “We don’t have other people up here often.”

Your heart pounds a little faster at the sincerity in his voice, and for a second, the rest of the world disappears. There’s only Quinn and the quiet lake, and the feeling that he understands you in a way you hadn't expected anyone to. You hold his gaze, feeling the electricity between you grow, filling the silence with something you can’t quite name.

But then, as if drawn back to reality, Quinn’s eyes shift, his expression subtly changing. “And Jack,” he says, almost as an afterthought. “He… really likes you, you know? He doesn’t say it, but I can tell.”

It feels like a splash of cold water. You break eye contact, pulling your hoodie closer around you, the warmth you felt moments ago dissipating. The weight of Jack’s interest hangs heavily between you and Quinn now, an undeniable reminder of the complicated line you’re toeing.

“Right, yeah…” you reply softly, looking down, your voice tinged with a mix of guilt and frustration. You hadn’t meant for this to get complicated, yet here you are, caught between two brothers who couldn’t be more different.

An uncomfortable silence settles over you both, thick and heavy. Quinn’s eyes linger on you, as if he’s about to say something more, but he holds back. His lips press into a thin line, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same conflict, the same confusion that’s twisting knots inside you.

You force yourself to look away, swallowing hard. “I think… I should probably head to bed,” you murmur, avoiding his gaze. You stand up, offering him a small, tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Goodnight, Quinn.”

Quinn nods, his expression unreadable as he watches you ebb towards the door. “Goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, though there’s a flicker of something in his gaze — disappointment, perhaps, or longing. You slip inside, leaving him on the porch, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back as you close the door.

In bed, you toss and turn, Quinn’s words and the feel of his gaze lingering with you. Your mind is a whirlwind, caught between the easy, carefree friendship that’s growing with Jack and the simmering tension you feel with Quinn. Jack is perfectly nice and, like Trevor told you, the two of you were getting along swimmingly.

But no matter how much you try, your thoughts always drift back to Quinn. There’s something undeniably different about him, something that makes it impossible to feel the same way about Jack, no matter how hard you try. Jack’s presence is light and friendly but with Quinn… it’s like there’s a hidden gravity pulling you toward him, a quiet understanding that lingers beneath the surface of every conversation. Every night on that porch, he’s become your anchor, drawing you into a world that feels more honest, more intimate.

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying the way he looked at you tonight — that almost undetectable spark that you’re sure you didn’t imagine. The way he listens to you, like every word matters, as he sees past the small talk and into the parts of you you rarely share. There’s no pretending with Quinn. And even though he’d mentioned Jack, it only made you realize how much more you’re drawn to Quinn. Jack might be developing feelings for you, but it’s Quinn who fills your thoughts, who leaves you breathless in a way you can’t ignore.

You pull the covers tighter around you, willing sleep to take you, but every thought seems to lead back to Quinn, to the way he made you feel seen, understood — even in silence.

The next morning, you do your best to shake off the lingering tension from the night before, determined to keep things light and normal. Under Jack’s enthusiastic suggestion, the group decides to spend the day out on the lake, hoping the sun and water will wash away any unease. It’s a sunny day, warm with a light breeze, and the water sparkles invitingly under the sunlight, making you think that everything might just go smoothly.

The boat is anchored in a calm spot on the lake and, despite the wonderful weather, there doesn’t seem to be another boat around. Trevor and Luke sit up in the bow, arguing about which mascot would win in a fight between Mr. Clean and Tony the Tiger.

Jack is quick to pull you into the action, handing you a beer from the cooler as he grins. “Alright,” he says, his smile as wide as the lake. “Are you ready for the full lake house experience? Because to really do that, you’ve got to jump off the boat at least once today.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you crack open the can. “I’m pretty sure you’re just making up rules to mess with me.”

He shrugs, a playful glint in his eye. “Maybe, but you have to do it anyway,” he shrugs.

Trevor chimes in, chuckling from his spot. “Jack’s right, y/n. First-time lake visitors have to jump. It’s tradition!”

You chuckle, your gaze drifting up to Jack as he stands in front of you. The sun shines directly behind him, casting him in a golden halo, the bright rays spilling around his frame in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. For a moment, you can see why anyone would fall for that charm. But even with this picture-perfect moment, you feel a pang of regret that you can’t feel more for him, because, somehow, your thoughts are pulled elsewhere and on someone else.

Jack’s laughter brings you back to the moment, and he leans a little closer. “Come on, we can make it a team effort. I mean, if you’re too nervous, I can just hold your hand.” His voice is playful, but there’s a hint of sincerity in his words, a hope that you’ll let him bridge the gap he’s trying so hard to close.

Your smile is genuine, but before you can respond, you hear Quinn's low chuckle from behind you. It’s soft, barely audible over the hum of the boat’s motor, but enough to pull your focus completely away from Jack. You glance back at Quinn who’s sat on the back bench, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, a flicker of something in his gaze as it bears down on the two of you.

Your attention is pulled back to Jack as he reaches for your hand in a gesture that feels both playful and pointed. “Come on, y/n, it’ll be an official initiation. We’ll jump together, yeah?”

Your gaze flickers between Jack’s outstretched hand and Quinn, who’s watching with an inscrutable expression, his eyes narrowed slightly as he leans back, crossing his arms. You can’t deny there’s an awkward tension here, a silent push-and-pull between the two brothers that seems to amplify whenever Quinn is nearby.

Swallowing the strange, charged feeling building between you all, you look back at Jack and nod, forcing a lighthearted smile as you stand up, pulling off the oversized t-shirt you wore as a coverup. You see Jack’s eyes scan your figure, hearing him gasp quietly. You blush, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, taking his hand. He grins in triumph, his fingers warm against yours as he helps you stand at the edge of the boat. He holds on a little tighter than necessary, and the flicker of anticipation in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Ready?” Jack asks, his voice softer now, his gaze lingering a bit too long as he watches your expression. There’s a hopeful vulnerability in his face, a look that makes you hesitate for a moment. You don’t want to hurt him, but there’s a part of you that wishes he’d pull back, that he’d realize you’re not as invested in this connection as he is.

You manage a nod, hoping he doesn’t notice the small sigh you let slip. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He beams, counting down with a quiet “three… two… one!” before the two of you leap into the lake together, the cool water rushing up to meet you. When you surface, you’re greeted by Jack’s laughter as he splashes you, pulling you into a playful water fight. You laugh along, though your eyes instinctively drift toward the boat, where Quinn looks over the edge, watching you both with an unreadable expression.

Jack’s laughter fades slightly as he notices your attention elsewhere, his face falling for a fraction of a second. But he quickly masks it, pulling you back with a light splash. “Hey, stay with me here,” he says, his tone half-joking, half-pleading. And you want to, you really do, but Quinn’s gaze is magnetic, and you can’t help but feel pulled toward him, as if there’s an invisible thread between the two of you.

Eventually, Jack climbs back onto the boat, reaching out to help you up. But the moment you step back on board, the charged silence returns, thick and stifling, as Quinn hands you a towel, his fingers brushing against yours just long enough to send a spark up your arm. You catch his gaze for a brief second, and you’re struck by the quiet intensity in his eyes, a longing that mirrors your own.

Jack clears his throat, his shoulders tensing slightly as he glances between you and Quinn. He lets out a forced laugh, trying to dispel the tension. “Alright, what’s next? We could always do another round of jumps, or maybe a swim to the dock?” He says it with an almost desperate cheerfulness, trying to regain your attention, trying to keep the moment light.

Trevor and Luke, sensing the tension, start bantering about who would be the fastest swimmer, their playful arguments distracting you all for a moment, lightening the mood just enough.

────୨ৎ────

The night air was crisp as laughter and the crackling of the fire filled the space around the lake house. The lake is quiet behind you, a dark, glassy surface reflecting only starlight. You were settled in a lawn chair, leaning back, watching as Trevor dramatically recounted a story about when you nearly crashed his car.

You could feel his eyes on you, searching for a shared smile, hoping to catch your gaze even as he chuckled at Trevor’s theatrics. Every so often, he'd lean in, commenting with a low murmur meant only for you. He’d even offered you his hoodie earlier, though the night wasn’t nearly cold enough to need it. It was endearing, if not a bit overeager. Yet, despite the obvious attention from him, your focus kept drifting across the fire.

Quinn sat across the flames from you, leaning back in an Adirondack chair. His attention was barely on the story, barely laughing with the others as you had been. Every now and then you’d catch his eyes flicker your way, lingering on you just long enough to send a thrill through your chest. Your stomach tightened with a quiet anticipation each time, though as quickly as the moment arrived, it vanished. Quinn’s gaze would shift, his attention lost somewhere in the darkness beyond the flames, leaving you wondering if you’d only imagined it.

As Trevor finally wrapped up his tale with an exaggerated flourish, the group’s laughter rang out again, filling the quiet night. You shifted in your chair, stealing a glance across the fire to see Quinn looking your way again, his expression unreadable in the dancing light. The firelight cast soft shadows over his face, illuminating his quiet intensity—a contrast to Jack’s open interest. And just as quickly as his eyes met yours, he looked away, his focus deliberately elsewhere, leaving you feeling a subtle ache of frustration.

Jack nudged your arm gently, his voice breaking the spell. “Hey, want to grab a drink or something? I think I saw some ciders in the cooler on the porch.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you replied, a small smile curving your lips as you pushed yourself up to join him.

You could feel the weight of Quinn’s gaze on you, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. As you walked toward the porch with Jack, a pang of prickling guilt settled over you, leaving a heavy shadow with every step. Jack was wonderful — funny, kind-hearted, and clearly eager to spend time with you. And yet, there was an emptiness in each smile you returned to him, a hollowness you couldn’t ignore. You tried to shake it off, reminding yourself to appreciate his warmth and interest. But you couldn’t deny it. There was no spark, no unspoken gravity that pulled you toward him.

The two of you reached the porch, Jack handing you a cold can from the cooler, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He shot you a quick grin, the kind that seemed to hold a hundred different things he wanted to say. But the look in his eyes—the hopefulness, the eagerness—only tightened the knot in your chest.

Jack took a sip of his drink, leaning casually against the porch railing, his gaze still on you. “It’s nice here at night, isn’t it?” His tone was light, but there was an unmistakable softness to his voice, as though he wanted nothing more than to keep this moment between just the two of you.

“Yeah, it really is,” you agreed, looking out at the lake rather than meeting his eyes. “It’s peaceful.”

Jack’s voice was quieter when he spoke this time like he was mulling something over. “You know, it’s been great having you up here. I mean…I’m glad Z brought you here.” he said softly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a vulnerability there, one that made you want to reassure him, to ease the sting of your own uncertainty.

You wanted to tell him you felt the same, that you were excited, that his attention filled you with butterflies. But it didn’t. Not the way Quinn’s lingering gaze did, not in the way his silence could reach across the fire and wrap around you more tightly than any words Jack could offer.

And Jack could sense it. You could see it in the way his gaze fell just a bit, in the way he seemed to retreat into himself, trying to figure out where he’d lost you. A soft, sinking guilt bubbled up, but before you could say anything, he cleared his throat and looked at you, trying to keep the mood light.

“Should we head back?” he asked, giving you a small smile that tried to mask the disappointment behind his eyes.

You nodded, and as you followed him back toward the fire, your eyes drifted back to Quinn. Why did he have to make it so complicated? Jack was there, warm and steady, giving you his full attention, yet your heart kept tugging you toward Quinn — Quinn, who never gave you more than half-glances and unspoken hints. It was as though he knew the effect he had on you but chose to keep you guessing, leaving you in this restless, uncertain state. And every time he looked away, your chest would ache with a longing that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.

You felt like you were making it up in your head. You felt like all of this was just concocted by your brain, a made-up situation. But then you’d think back to the nights when it was just the two of you, sitting across from one another on the porch, finding bits of commonality, causing you to talk for hours.

It was during those quiet nights, with only the soft hum of the lake and the occasional call of night birds, that the two of you would sit just a little closer, voices lowered as if sharing secrets with the stars. He’d be calm, reserved, but there’d always be a hint of a smile when you teased him about his stoic nature, a glint in his eyes when he’d challenge you back. It was in these moments that your doubts faded, that all the confusion seemed worth it.

But then the sun would rise again, and Quinn’s indifference would come back like the morning mist, blanketing any closeness you thought you’d found. The spark that seemed so real under the cover of night would dim, replaced by his guarded demeanor and quiet aloofness. It was maddening, this cycle of near-closeness followed by a cool retreat. He’d show you just enough to make you wonder, to keep you holding onto the memory of his quiet smile and that soft look in his eyes.

As you and Jack rejoined the group, you settled back into your chair, glancing across the fire toward Quinn once more. He was looking down, a hand idly fiddling with the edge of his sweater. There was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something that made you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same hesitation and uncertainty. You wanted to bridge that gap, to ask him if he ever felt the same tug, the same strange pull that made every shared glance linger in your mind.

But before you could even entertain the idea, Jack’s hand brushed your shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. He was smiling, his gaze as steady and warm as ever, making you wish you could return it with the same openness.

“Hey, you okay?” Jack asked, concern lacing his voice. You hadn’t realized the way you were chewing on your lip, or the way your brow was furrowed ever so slightly.

You nodded, giving him a soft smile that you hoped looked genuine. “Yeah, just…lost in thought, I guess.”

But as you said it, your gaze slipped across the fire once more, finding Quinn’s eyes fixed on you with that familiar, unreadable intensity. And for a fleeting second, you thought you saw a softness there, a hint of something deeper. It vanished just as quickly, but that one look was enough. It was enough to make you cast away the doubt that lingered in your mind, to dismiss the thought that this was all in your head.

The night dragged on, punctuated by laughter and more ridiculous storytelling from Trevor. Gradually, one by one, everyone began to call it a night. Luke was the first to slip away, yawning as he muttered something about wanting to have an early workout, clapping Trevor on the shoulder before heading inside. Trevor followed soon after, stretching with exaggerated laziness before flashing a grin and winking at you. “Don’t get into too much trouble out here,” he teased, earning a playful eye-roll from you.

Finally, it was just you, Jack, and Quinn. Jack was lingering, his eyes occasionally drifting to you with a look that hinted at something he wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring himself to voice. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he looked at you, then glanced over at Quinn.

"Alright, I guess I’ll head in, too," Jack finally said, his tone reluctant. His gaze lingered on you for just a beat too long, as though he wanted you to ask him to stay or tell him that you would head up with him. But you didn’t, and after a quiet sigh, he nodded, gave Quinn a brief glance, then turned and headed inside, the screen door shutting softly behind him.

And then it was just the two of you.

The quiet stretched between you and Quinn, thick and tense, as the night air settled into a stillness that seemed to wrap around you both. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the trees, and it was painfully quiet, each unspoken word between you two heavy with meaning. You could feel his presence, magnetic and steady, even across the fire. Finally, after a moment that felt like an eternity, you drew a deep breath and decided to speak.

“Quinn, can we talk?” Your voice was steady, but just barely. Quinn’s eyes finally locked with yours for the first time since before everyone began to filter to bed. Quinn nodded after a couple of seconds, giving you the silence to continue.

“I don’t know what’s going on between us,” you said softly. “But… fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy. I need to know if it’s all just in my head or if you feel it too. Because if there’s a reason I feel this way… I need to know.”

You trailed off, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words hung in the air between you. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his expression unreadable, his face softened by the glow of the firelight. Then, with a sigh, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he stared into the flames. His silence was torture, each passing second pulling you deeper into a pit of anxiety and frustration.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, as if he’d rehearsed this response in his mind countless times. “It’s not in your head,” he admitted, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. “There’s something here, between us. I feel it too.”

The words sent a rush of relief and hope through you, a spark that reignited all those moments spent wondering and waiting for some kind of sign. A soft smile spread across your face, the edges of your doubt finally beginning to soften. But then, his expression shifted, the corners of his mouth tightening as he looked away, eyes fixed on the shadows just beyond the firelight.

“But…” His voice was barely a whisper, rough around the edges. “It can’t go anywhere. Not with Jack. He’s…he’s into you.” He looked back at you, the regret in his eyes evident, a pain mirrored in your own chest. “I can’t do that to him.”

His words were like a punch to the gut, and the warmth of the fire suddenly felt distant, fading into a cold, empty ache spreading through your chest. You hadn’t expected it to hurt this much, hadn’t realized how much you’d been hoping he’d say the opposite, that he’d fight for whatever was happening between you.

You dropped your gaze, feeling foolish, vulnerable, exposed. “So that’s it? We just… pretend this doesn’t exist?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like nothing’s been happening all this time?”

Quinn’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his expression pained. “I don’t want to pretend. But I can’t… I won’t hurt him, not like that. He’s my brother.” He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly. “And he really cares about you.”

You swallowed hard. It felt ridiculous—being here, feeling so foolishly hopeful, only to be left with a hollow ache and a fractured connection that couldn’t ever be more. Part of you wanted to yell at him for leading you on, for those late-night conversations and stolen glances, for every unspoken word that now felt like a cruel joke.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish it could be different.”

The words left you hollow. Part of you wanted to fight, to tell him that what you felt couldn’t just be ignored, but another part — the part that knew him and understood his loyalty — couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to choose you over his brother. Not when you saw the conflict in his eyes, the pain that mirrored your own.

“Fine,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. You stood up, the cool night air prickling your skin as you walked away from the fire, leaving him there in silence. You didn’t look back. It felt like your chest was filled with broken glass, each breath painful, as you made your way back to the house.

Inside, the stillness was almost suffocating. The others had already gone to bed, and the darkened living room felt cold and empty, mirroring the ache in your heart. You climbed the stairs to your room, shutting the door softly behind you as you sank onto the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. A mix of anger and sadness filled you. You were mad at Quinn, for drawing you in only to push you away; mad at Jack, for being in the way even if he hadn’t meant to be; mad at Trevor, for ever convincing you to come here; and, perhaps most of all, mad at yourself, for letting your heart hope for something that could never be.

The next morning, a heavy quiet blanketed the lake house. You moved through the motions of breakfast with the others, but your thoughts felt distant, lost somewhere between the memories of last night and the weight of Quinn’s words. The morning was made slightly easier by the absence of Quinn who you were told went into the town early that morning to run errands and hit the gym. The guys bantered and talked about heading out on the boat, planning an afternoon on the lake, but you could only muster half-hearted nods and polite smiles. It was hard to focus, every small sound—the clinking of mugs, the soft scrape of a chair—only intensifying the ache you couldn’t shake.

Excusing yourself, you slipped away before anyone could ask questions, making your way down to the dock. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rippling across the lake's surface, and you sat at the edge, feet dangling above the water. You were still in your sleep outfit, not exactly pyjamas, but rather a comfy oversized hoodie and a pair of mens boxers. The familiar scent of pine and fresh earth surrounded you, but even the peaceful view couldn’t ease the storm of emotions inside.

The quiet was soon broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, and you didn’t need to look to know it was Jack. You felt him sit beside you, his presence warm and grounding. For a moment, he didn’t say anything — just let the silence settle between you both, as though he was waiting for you to be ready.

Finally, he cleared his throat, glancing sideways at you. “You okay this morning? You’ve been… quiet,” he said softly, his voice tentative, as if he were stepping carefully around broken glass. “Distant.”

You swallowed, bracing yourself as you met his gaze. His eyes were filled with genuine concern, a softness that only made this harder. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking back out at the lake. “Guess I just needed some space.”

Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. His fingers drummed nervously on the edge of the dock, and after a beat, he spoke again, his tone thoughtful, almost nostalgic.

“You know,” he began, eyes cast down at the water, “when Trevor told me he was bringing a friend this summer, he was so sure we’d hit it off. He kept going on about how you and I would be perfect for each other, that we’d get along great.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I remember feeling this weird, excited energy like… maybe he was right, you know? Maybe I was going to meet someone special.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as he continued, his voice carrying a warmth that was both comforting and deeply bittersweet.

“And when you got here…” He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, as if to gauge your reaction. “I don’t know, it just… felt easy, from the start. Like we’d known each other forever. I started to feel like maybe Trevor had been onto something.” He gave a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of unspoken feelings.

“Things felt really good between us, and I thought you felt it too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I started to get my hopes up—thinking maybe this was the start of something real.”

You winced, guilt gnawing at you. “Jack… I’m so sorry,” you said, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, truly. I think you’re amazing. From the bottom of my heart, I just… I mean there’s gotta be some sort of spell this fucking house puts me under because I would be insane otherwise to not like you! You… you’re so perfect that any other girl would be scremaing at me, trying to claw my eyes out for not appreciating you. But… I just can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Jack’s eyes softened, a mix of sadness and resignation settling in them. He looked down, his fingers still drumming but more slowly now, as if grounding himself. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let it out, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“I get it,” he murmured, though his voice had an unmistakable crack in it. “I mean… I think I get it. You can’t force something that isn’t there, right?” He gave a sad smile, one that tried to mask the hurt but didn’t quite succeed.

He stared out at the water, his expression distant, like he was trying to piece together what had gone wrong, or maybe just what he’d missed. A tense silence settled between you, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on the air around you. Jack cleared his throat, seeming to steel himself, his gaze searching your face as if looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked.

“Can I… can I just ask you one thing?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. His vulnerability in that moment was palpable, and you could feel your heart pounding, bracing yourself for what was coming.

You nodded, feeling your throat tighten.

“Do you… have feelings for Quinn?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and painful, and a part of you wished he hadn’t asked. But the look in his eyes told you he needed to know, that the uncertainty was gnawing at him just as much as the truth might.

Slowly, you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whispered, “Yes.”

A heavy silence fell between you, and Jack seemed to shrink a little, his shoulders slumping as he took it in. Jack’s gaze fixed on the lake, and for a long moment, he said nothing. You could see the effort it took for him to keep his expression neutral, to keep his emotions tightly bound. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke.

“So, you… you and Quinn. Is there… anything actually happening between you two?” He glanced at you, a flicker of something raw in his eyes — hope, maybe, or just the need to understand.

You shook your head, offering a small, bittersweet smile. “No, Jack. We’re… we’re not together. We won’t be.”

He looked at you, brow furrowed. “Why not?” he asked softly, his confusion obvious. “If you feel that way about him, why wouldn’t you try?”

You took a shaky breath, the words catching in your throat. “Because Quinn… Quinn’s too good of a brother. He’d never go for me because of you… and because of what he knows you feel.”

Jack blinked, his brow furrowing as he took in your words. “Wait—what does that mean? Because of me?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. His gaze softened, and you could see he was fighting to keep his tone steady, like he was trying not to hope.

You sighed, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. “Quinn told me he could never be with me because he knows how you feel. He doesn’t want to hurt you, Jack.”

Jack’s jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face. “So… let me get this straight,” he muttered, almost incredulously. “He’s not doing anything about how he feels—because of me?”

You nodded, and Jack fell silent, staring down at his hands, which had stopped drumming and were now clenched tightly in his lap. He seemed deep in thought, his brows furrowed as he processed what you’d just told him. The lake was quiet around you, the stillness broken only by the occasional ripple of water.

For a long time, Jack didn't say anything, just stared down at the water, his brows drawn together. You could almost feel the weight of his thoughts, the way he was wrestling with everything that had just been laid out. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, raw.

“So he… he cares enough to stay away,” Jack said slowly, the words laced with a sadness that felt almost like admiration. “That's… just like him.” He took a deep breath, forcing a small, sad smile. “I wish things were different. I wish we could just rewind, go back to the start of summer and… and pretend this never happened.”

You swallowed hard, his words striking a chord deep within you. “Me too,” you whispered, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I never wanted any of this to happen, Jack. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”

Jack looked over at you, his expression softening, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the easy, unburdened friendship you’d had in the beginning. “I know,” he murmured. “You’re not the kind of person who’d do this on purpose. It’s just… life, I guess. It’s complicated, ‘n messy as hell. And… maybe Trevor was right. We do get along. Just… maybe not in the way he thought we would.”

He smiled, a genuine one this time, though tinged with a sadness he couldn’t hide. “Maybe someday… I won’t feel this way,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the soft lapping of the lake against the dock. “But for now… I think I just need a little space. Time, maybe.”

You nodded, understanding that this was what he needed, even if it hurt to hear. “I get it, Jack. I do.”

Jack gave a nod, his gaze returning to the water, the weight of unspoken words settling over the two of you. In the next moment, he reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze—a quiet truce, an understanding. Then he stood, brushing off his shorts and glancing back at the house.

“I’ll be up at the house for a bit,” he murmured, the distance in his tone unmistakable. With that, he turned and walked back up the dock, his footsteps slow and heavy.

In the following days, there was a noticeable shift in the air; everyone felt it, though no one dared to name it. Conversations were stilted, laughter felt forced, and even the once-lively dinners had become quiet affairs, each of you treading carefully as if one wrong word might shatter the fragile peace that held you all together. Jack avoided you and Quinn as much as he could, lingering at the edge of group activities, his usual easygoing energy replaced by something more closed off, guarded.

Quinn, for his part, kept his distance too, his usual calm presence clouded by an unspoken tension. It was as if he knew that the delicate line he was walking might snap at any moment, sending everything spiraling out of control.

You couldn't ignore the heaviness that had settled over the house, a tangible sense of tension that made everything feel off-kilter. As much as you'd wanted this summer to be an escape, it had become the very opposite — a painful reminder of all the ways things could go wrong.

That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, you found yourself wide awake, thoughts racing. The decision took shape slowly, a reluctant resolve that you couldn’t shake. You needed to leave. Staying here, caught between the fractured pieces of what had been and what could never be, was too much to bear. The thought of facing both brothers day after day, watching Jack’s guarded smiles and Quinn’s restrained distance—it was too much. They deserved space, and, you realized, so did you.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and booked a flight out for two days later, the earliest you could manage. You barely slept, running through potential conversations in your mind, eventually deciding you were only going to tell Trevor and slip out quietly, not wanting to cause anymore issues.

You forced yourself to push through the pain and awkwardness during the two remaining days until you would be returning back to California. As the days inched closer to your departure, the weight of unspoken words grew heavier, settling into every corner of the lake house. You caught glimpses of Jack, his face turning away when he thought no one was watching as if even looking at you and Quinn felt like reopening an unhealed wound. Quinn’s glances were no less fraught, though his were filled with a wistful restraint, as if he was already mourning the loss of something that had barely even begun.

The dinners, once filled with laughter, now passed in subdued tones, each person more focused on their plate than the conversation. You found yourself counting down the days and hours, conflicted between the need to escape the tension and the ache of leaving it all behind. In those last two days, you kept reminding yourself that soon, you’d be on a plane back to California, back to your own life — away from Jack’s pained looks and Quinn’s longing stares.

Your final day there, you packed your belongs up quickly, hoping Trevor would buy your excuse of not wanting to miss your flight as a good reason for him to take you to the airport early, and not because you couldn’t bear to spend one more hour in this suffocating oasis. Everyone else was lounging by the water, with the exception of Jack who lingered in the kitchen, opting to do the dishes rather than be around the others. He was lost in thought when he heard the patio door slide open and shut, the sound of bare feet padding against the hardwood. He turned to the entrance of the kitchen, seeing Quinn wearing his boardshorts and a slightly guarded look.

Quinn stopped at the threshold, eyes flicking briefly to Jack’s hands as he scrubbed the dishes. They were tense, knuckles white around the plate he held, and the silence between them was palpable and heavy. Jack set down the dish with a clatter, bracing himself on the edge of the sink, not looking at Quinn. Jack didn’t give Quinn time to speak. The words erupted from him, fueled by everything he’d been holding back.

“Do you even understand what you’re doing?” Jack’s voice was low and seething, barely contained. He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t dare let Quinn get a word in. “You’re hurting her, Quinn. A perfectly nice girl, who came here not looking for this mess but got dragged into it anyway. And the worst part is, you know it. You know it, and you’re still just… sitting back like a damn martyr, thinking that by staying distant, you’re somehow making it easier for everyone. That by holding back, you’re sparing her, sparing me.”

Jack’s words cut through the quiet, sharper than the silence that had settled in the house over the past days. The vulnerability in his tone was raw, scraping against Quinn’s stoic expression. Quinn shifted uncomfortably but didn’t interrupt; he only looked at Jack, his gaze unwavering.

“And you know what? I kind of hate you for it,” Jack continued, voice unsteady. He turned his head just enough for Quinn to catch the anger, the hurt in his eyes. “I hate that you waltzed in and just took her from me without even trying. And, yeah, maybe that’s selfish. Maybe I never really had a chance, but she was still there, and I was trying. I was there, damn it!”

Quinn finally took a step forward, but Jack cut him off again, his hands clenching at the counter. “And I hate you for pretending like you’re doing the right thing by telling her nothing will happen. You act like you’re some noble saint by ‘staying away,’ but it’s a lie, Quinn. It’s a lie, and we both know it. You’re holding back because you’re scared — scared to go after what you really want, and in the end, you’re just making it worse for everyone. For her. For me.”

Jack’s voice wavered, then cracked, as he finally fell silent, chest heaving from the force of his confession. The words had cost him, as if each syllable had drawn blood. The only sound in the room was the dripping of the faucet, each drop amplifying the tension between them.

Quinn stayed quiet for a long moment, his gaze steady as he absorbed every word. He studied Jack, weighing something unspoken. “Would you hate me if I went for her, then?” His tone was gentle, almost hesitant, a softness that Jack hadn’t been prepared for.

Jack’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I probably would.” He ran a hand through his hair, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I mean I hate you right now for making her feel the way she does. But it shouldn’t matter, Quinn. Not if you two… if you actually care about each other.” Jack’s voice faltered, breaking under the weight of his own honesty. “Look, I’ll get over it. In time. But don’t waste what could be something good just because you’re trying to spare everyone. It’s pointless, and it’s selfish. You need to get to her before it’s too late.”

Quinn could feel Jack’s anger and pain, an emotion so raw and tangled it clawed at the air between them. For a second, Quinn thought of how different things could have been if he had stayed on the sidelines, if he hadn’t let himself get close to you. But as Jack’s gaze softened, an odd understanding settled between them. Jack wasn’t letting go easily, but he was letting go.

Jack’s shoulders slumped, exhausted, as he ran a hand over his face. “She’s leaving today, you know?” he said to Quinn, a look of surprise appearing on his face. “Trev told me last night she booked her flight out for this afternoon.”

Quinn’s face fell, and the guarded look faded, replaced with something dangerously close to panic. He hadn’t known—hadn’t expected that this was it. That today was the end.

“She’s leaving?” Quinn asked, Jack nodding. “Why didn’t she say anything? W-why is she leaving?”

“Because why would she stay?” Jack said. “She’s going to protect herself. She’s not gonna stay here, hoping for something that won’t happen. She’s too smart for that.”

The realization struck Quinn like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless. Jack's words echoed in his mind, each one sharper than the last. She’s leaving. Of course, she would. She wasn’t the type to hang around hoping for some half-hearted promise or for Quinn to finally decide what he wanted. She deserved so much more than waiting for him to get his act together.

Jack's voice softened, pulling him back to the present. "Quinn, it’s not too late. She hasn’t left yet. If you really care about her, don’t let her go like this."

Quinn’s gaze faltered, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his expression. Could he really undo the damage he’d done by staying away? Could he find the words to convince her that, despite his silence, he’d felt everything just as deeply as she had?

A heavy silence followed before Quinn found his voice. “What… what should I say to her?”

Jack shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You really think I’m giving you advice on how to get the girl I wanted?”

Quinn’s face softened in a rare, grateful smile. “Fair enough.” He hesitated, then turned, steeling himself as he left the kitchen, leaving Jack to his own fractured thoughts.

Quinn climbed the stairs two at a time, his pulse racing with every step, anticipation and fear warring within him. As he reached the top, he saw Trevor just exiting your room. Trevor paused, giving Quinn a look that held no small amount of concern.

“I don’t know what went down between you three,” Trevor said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I care about her, and I don’t like seeing her like this. You going to fix whatever mess this is?”

Quinn’s chest tightened. He knew Trevor had been close to you, learning this summer just how much of a big brother figure he was to you. He couldn’t fault him for looking out for you.

“I’m going to fix it,” Quinn said, his voice quiet but firm. He met Trevor’s gaze, hoping to communicate the sincerity in his words. “I have to.”

Trevor didn’t say anything else, but he gave Quinn a long, steady look, as though weighing whether to believe him. Then he gave a nod and shifted your duffle bag, stepping aside to let Quinn pass. With a final glance at Trevor, Quinn walked to your door, his heart racing. Quinn stood outside your door for a moment, his hand hovering above the doorknob. He knew what he needed to say, but a part of him feared that the damage was already done. Bracing himself, he knocked gently before pushing the door open.

You were standing by the window, your zipped duffle bag sitting on your bed. Your back was to the door when Quinn entered, and for a moment, he almost turned around, the words caught in his throat. But then you turned, your eyes meeting his.

“Are you really going?” Quinn asked, his voice quiet and strained.

You nodded, stepping away from the window and closer to Quinn. “I think it’s best. This whole summer has just… it’s too much, Quinn. I didn’t come here expecting any of this, and now I just feel… caught. And I can’t keep feeling this way.”

Quinn swallowed, his gaze never leaving yours. He looked as though he was battling something heavy, words lingering on his lips, waiting to escape. He stepped forward, close enough that you could see the faint circles under his eyes, the fatigue that seemed to pull at his features.

“I didn’t expect any of this either,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And I get it — you’re right. I hurt you. I know that. I thought… I thought if I kept my distance, it would somehow make it easier for everyone. That maybe you'd move on from this — move on from me, and be with Jack. I thought it would hurt less.”

You held his gaze, your voice low but unwavering. “Do you have any idea what that did to me, Quinn? All summer, feeling this… this connection between us, and thinking that I had to be imagining it because you couldn’t even look at me. And you’re saying you did that on purpose? To protect me?” Your voice trembled. “That’s not protecting me. That’s running away.”

Quinn took a shaky breath, stepping closer, his expression taut with regret. “I know I messed up. I was spineless and I should have told you the truth sooner.” Quinn said, bowing his head briefly before forcing himself to look up at your hurt eyes. “I told myself that it was better this way, but all I was doing was lying to myself. Because every time I saw you… every time I heard your laugh, or watched you talk to Jack, or caught you looking at me — I couldn’t breathe.”

Quinn took one last step forward, less than a foot away from you. He raised his hand to reach you, fingertips grazing your arm gently, as if he feared you might pull away. “But I care about you, more than I thought possible. And I was afraid of that. Afraid of hurting Jack, afraid of hurting you… and afraid of wanting you this much.” He swallowed, his voice growing rough. “But I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel. I want to be with you I — I need to be with you.”

Your breath hitched, the confession settling over you like a warm, crushing weight. This was what you’d wanted, but it also brought a whirlwind of conflicting emotions crashing down. You took a small step back, just enough to put some distance between you, needing space to gather your thoughts.

Quinn was saying everything you wanted to hear from the beginning. Laying his feelings bare, and exposing his heart in a way you hadn't expected from someone as reserved as him. It was like seeing a hidden part of him, one he’d kept carefully guarded. The vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that this was as terrifying for him as it was thrilling for you.

But in the back of your mind, Jack lingered, his hurt and disappointment woven into every stolen glance and quiet moment of the summer. The image of his face as he realized how you felt about Quinn was something you couldn’t shake. The memory clawed at you, guilt mixing with the longing Quinn’s words evoked.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that,” you said, voice catching. “But Quinn… Jack — he tried so hard with me this summer, and I couldn’t give him what he wanted because of… well, because of you.” You hesitated, torn between the longing in Quinn’s eyes and the memory of Jack’s earnest, hopeful glances. “The last thing I wanted was to hurt him. And I feel like I’ve done enough damage by just… being here.”

Quinn’s gaze softened, his hand lingering just above your arm, hovering close as if he wasn’t ready to let you go. “I know,” he murmured. “I know it’s complicated. But I talked to Jack this morning. He told me… he told me to come up here and talk to you. To tell you how I felt. He wants you to be happy, and he knows that’s not with him. He’ll get over it.”

“Jack said that?” you whispered, barely able to believe it.

Quinn nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips, though there was sadness in his eyes. “He might hate me for a while, and I can live with that. But he said I’d regret it if I let you go. And… he was right.”

His hand, warm and steady, traced down your arm, his fingers slipping around yours with a gentle firmness. The touch, gentle but insistent, sent a jolt through you. “I know I’ve messed up,” he murmured, voice barely a whisper. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll make it right. I want this, us… if you do too.”

You nodded, words escaping you as Quinn stepped even closer, his free hand lifting to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you could feel the slight tremor in his touch. He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you didn’t.

His lips barely brushed yours, soft and tentative. Your breath mingled together briefly before your lips locked together. He lingered for a heartbeat, savoring the closeness as if he, too, couldn’t believe this was real. Then, with a surge of emotion, the kiss deepened, all the restraint and hesitation of the summer dissolving as his hand rose to cradle your cheek, holding you to him as though afraid you might disappear.

His stubble that had grown out over the last couple weeks of summer scraped along your jaw and chin, leaving a faint burn that only added to the rush of sensation.

When you pulled back, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day you got here,” he murmured, a hint of relief in his voice.

You giggled, staying close and feeling his heartbeat echoing against yours. The silence that followed was thick, but it was different now — no longer tense or uncertain like it had been for most of the summer. It felt as though the weight had been lifted from both of your shoulders.

But even in that moment, you knew the reality of what this would mean—for Jack, for Quinn, and for yourself. There was a part of you that still ached, remembering Jack’s quiet disappointment and knowing it would take time to heal the wounds this summer had left behind.

You swallowed hard, raising a hand to Quinns face and brushing aside his dark locks that fell over his eyes. “I still think I need to go,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not because I don’t want this. I do. But I think both of you need time, and maybe I do too. To let everything settle.”

Quinn nodded, understanding settling over his expression. “I get it,” he replied, taking your hand in his and giving your palm a soft kiss. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”

Quinn let you slip from his arms, his heart squeezing as he watched you grab your bag and exit the room. As you descended the stairs with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder, you saw Jack waiting near the door. His expression softened as you approached, a bittersweet smile crossing his face.

“So, this is it?” he asked, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of acceptance.

You nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s best. Thank you, Jack. For understanding. And… for everything.”

Jack gave a short nod, his gaze momentarily flickering towards the stairs where Quinn had stopped to watch from a distance. He returned his gaze to you and managed a small, sincere smile. “Go live your life. I wish you and Quinn all the best.”

You hugged him, both of you holding on just a second longer than necessary. When you pulled back, you could see the mix of emotions in his eyes, but there was a sense of peace there too. He’d let go, not because it didn’t hurt, but because he genuinely wanted you to be happy. You felt your heart swell, gratitude mixing with the faint sting of regret for the friendship that would never quite be the same. But Jack’s words lifted the weight off your shoulders, letting you and Quinn move forward.

With a final look, you stepped outside, Trevor waiting to drive you to the airport, his brow furrowed in confusion at the way you suddenly had pep in your step, a small smile present on your lips that had been missing for weeks. As the car pulled away, you stole one last glance at the lake house, catching a glimpse of Quinn watching you from the porch. He raised a hand in a small wave, and you returned it, a soft smile on your lips.

This summer hadn’t turned out anything like you’d expected.

[sgtbradfords]

something wild and unruly

Pairing: Tyler Owens x reader

Summary: You and the Tornado Wranglers seek shelter from the tornado inside a theater that was most certainly not up to modern building codes.

Warnings: life or death situation, minor character injury, hurt/comfort, dirty talk, flirting

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written an x reader, but after watching the theater scene in Twisters, I just couldn't get this idea out of my head. Enjoy! :)

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‘This is it.’ you think, pushing yourself further up underneath a row of theater chairs as the sound of a freight train grew louder. 

In the two years that you had been working with The Tornado Wrangler, you had witnessed Tyler and Boone have numerous, exhilarating, and successful intercepts with one of nature’s most destructive forces, but always from the safety of your vehicle several miles away. Your job of keeping up with the ever-evolving data was rather tedious and very important, but it didn’t always require you to be in close proximity with the rotating column, which was something you preferred. Especially when staying back allows you to capture the beauty of the storm from behind a lens. 

For a moment, you allow yourself to go there, to imagine what this tornado would look like from the safety of an open field. In your mind, the massive wedge wasn’t wrapped by sheets of rain, making it one of the most photogenic you had ever captured, even though it was obliterating everything in its path. Through the screen of your camera, you would be able to see whole trees, sheets of metal, planks of wood, as they circulated through the air. 

Dexter yells something from the other end of the row, his words unintelligible as it pulls you out of your reverie, reminding you that you didn't have to imagine the destruction because you were living through it.

You adjust your sweaty palms along the base of the chair in front of you, muttering underneath your breath that everything was going to be okay. It was only going to last a few more seconds, right?

“Shit!” cries out a familiar voice as the screen at the front of the auditorium is pulled away, revealing the beast which rages outside.

Turning your head slightly to the right, you glance towards the floor of the row behind you. 

Tyler is frowning prominently, you might add, but that wasn't what unnerved you. No, what chilled you to the bone was the unmistakable fear in his glaucous colored eyes. Because if the Tyler Owens was scared, then the world as you know it was ending. 

The vibration in your palms intensifies as a decades worth of old dust and stale popcorn is sucked out of the building. There’s a small part of you that hopes that that’s the worst of it, that this little podunk would remain otherwise unscathed. But like a fool, the tornado proves you wrong by pulling the row of chairs in front of you away, leaving you suddenly exposed. 

“[Y/N]!” You hear Tyler yell, but by then it was too late.

You scream, a loud, guttural sound of peril that is lost to the wind as one of your hands loses its grip on the chair. Frantically, you look around for something, anything, that would be worth holding onto in a last-ditch effort in saving your life, choosing to grasp the leather of the armrest that was just within reach. 

The thought that you were quite literally about to die, crosses your mind as your body is lifted off the sticky floor and into the air. 

“Tyler!” you scream, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hold on for forever. 

You watch as furiously he twists and turns, firmly wrapping the toe of his boot around the base of the chairs behind him, before reaching out towards you.

With both hands, you hold onto his wrist for dear life, your weightless body swaying in the air as more debris flies past you. It feels as though the moment lasts a lifetime, time slowing to a standstill as Tyler attempts to pull you back down, sending an intense throbbing sensation up your arm. 

You don’t know how long you hold on, but just as quickly as it began, did your buoyancy end, sending your body crashing to the floor. 

“Holy shit [Y/N],” Tyler says, kneeling in front of you. “Are you okay?”

“What's your definition of okay?”

It was a miracle that you hadn’t flown out the gaping hole at the front of the theater. So, were you okay? Not by a long shot, but was it better than someone finding your mangled body in a tree somewhere? Absolutely. 

You watch as his concern deepens, his brow pulling further inward as you give him a shaky smile. “I’m fine Cowboy, at least I will be.”

The look understandably fails in easing his worries. He glances towards your thigh. “You’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” You tell him, looking downward to find your jeans now tainted a crimson color thanks to a small jagged wound that ran across your thigh. You should probably be concerned about that, right? “I am. I’m bleeding. And I'm missing a shoe.”

“I need a first aid kit!” Tyler yells a little too loudly, causing you to wince.

“It's not that bad.” To prove a point, you move to your feet, only for your legs to wobble underneath your weight. 

Tyler rolls his eyes, “You resemble a newborn giraffe.”

“A cute newborn giraffe.” You giggle, easing yourself down into a theater chair. “I think I'm in shock.”

Raising a brow, Tyler kneels on the ground before you, first aid kit now in hand. “You think?”

So what if you were in shock or that you had what looked to be an insignificant wound that needed to be treated? There were people out there, in far worse condition than yourself, that needed help. 

“Better think of your happy place sweetheart, cause this is going to burn like hell.”

Tyler murmurs low apologies under his breath when you release a hiss as the alcohol pad sanitizes the cut, but the pain was short-lived as tenderly, he continues to provide treatment. 

You watch him closely, noting his features; the way his nose was furled, the way his lips thinned, or how his brow furrowed as he focused intently on putting a couple butterfly bandages over the open wound. It’s the same look he gets when trying to decipher where the hell the team was going to chase for the day. You shake your head at the imagery.

“All done,” He says, giving you a panty melting smile. Damn him. You can feel your cheeks warm, heart beating wildly inside your chest as you move to your feet. “Does the patient want a sticker or a sucker?”

“What the patient would like is to get out of here.” While you long for the opportunity to take a hot shower, you know that it'll be hours until you find yourself in the bathroom of a motel room. Instead, you brush off the dust off your clothes. “But for future reference,” your lips twitch into a smirk as you lean in close, whispering. “I prefer to do my sucking on my knees.”

It takes everything in you to walk away calmly, to not look back, not even once, but that doesn’t mean the intensity of his stare has no effect on you. More than once, does your knees threaten to buckle, but by some miracle you manage to keep your head held high. 

It was going to be a long couple of hours. 

[mstase]

DESCRIBING THE MOON SIGNS

some of these are based on the people I’ve met, so you may not resonate with some of it. there are also probably other aspects in your birth chart that say otherwise, so please read this with a grain of salt.

♨️ aries moon - such people have a subtle yet sharp look, often with a prominent feature like a wide forehead or a generally strong build. their fiery emotions are written all over their face, and you can spot their short fuse from a mile away. they’re not the type to bottle things up; it’s more like they need to let it out, erupting like a volcano. these folks are impulsive, prone to sudden outbursts, but surprisingly, they don’t hold onto grudges—they move on as fast as they flare up. they tend to have mood swings, being all emotional one minute and totally chill the next. there’s this childlike energy about them—they get hyped up easily and are full of passion. but just like kids, they can be pretty immature when it comes to handling their feelings. when they were young, they might have fought a lot due to their impatient nature and tendency to react quickly and get frustrated, but they eventually grow out of it. i know some aries moon peeps who get physical when they can’t calm down like throwing stuff, kicking around, or yelling and screaming to let out that frustration.

🍥 taurus moon - they’re really laid-back to be around, always giving off a calming vibe. picture doe eyes and soft, prominent cheek, kind of like a bambi. these individuals are typically grounded and don’t easily get irritated, but they know when to assert their boundaries. they prefer doing their own thing and steer clear of drama. however, they can be quite stubborn and once they’re fixated on something, it’s hard to sway them. emotions tend to linger with them for a long time because they manage them steadily and slowly. one thing about them: they despise being rushed. like typical taureans, they take their time with things and enjoy a slower pace. when they feel emotionally unsettled, they seek comfort, even if it’s not always the healthiest option, it helps them escape. they thrive in cozy, gentle environments, feeling most at ease when they’re at home. quite possessive people and can come across as controlling at times, especially with those they like; they tend to be fond of physical touch.

🗣️ gemini moon - they have really expressive eyes that light up when something catches their interest. always cracking jokes and endlessly curious, they’re a blast to be around. a bit scattered sometimes, but they’re great at keeping a conversation going. sharp as a tack, they might seem like a clown sometimes, but they’re actually deep thinkers. they are prone to mood swings; their minds are constantly buzzing with a million thoughts, which also impacts their mood. however, they don’t really express or dwell on these emotions much because their minds are wrapped up in their interests, which can make them come across as emotionally closed off. at other times, they tend to rationalize their emotions rather than genuinely feeling them. these people get extremely bored easily, constantly needing mental stimulation. hence, they have a need to always ask questions, to know everything and understand how things work, in order to keep their minds busy. they could be the type who has trouble sleeping because their minds won’t quiet down, and the same goes for their mouth.

🦀 cancer moon - very emotionally receptive, they can easily read and understand others just as much as they crave understanding for their own feelings. they feel things deeply and take it all to heart, often needing space to process. naturally nurturing, they care very deeply and want it to be acknowledged. they might be the one looking out for their siblings or the ’mom’ figure in their friend circle. when upset, they can be passive-aggressive, but most of the time, they keep their pain to themselves. their heightened sensitivity makes them get hurt more easily than others, which is why they sometimes come off as defensive. these people have a hard time moving on from the past and like to reminisce a lot. they remember every single thing, the good and the bad stuff people did to them, and when they’re not feeling right, they tend to hold onto grudges.

⚜️ leo moon - they are all about expressing themselves creatively, typically through singing and/or dancing. they are incredibly generous and always there for the people they cherish. however, i’ve noticed they can struggle with self-esteem, leading them to seek validation and acceptance. they have fragile egos and are extremely sensitive to criticism, often feeling challenged in their accomplishments or goals, even when that’s not the case. when they feel validated, they bring good vibes, filling up the room with warm, loving, and super enthusiastic energy—that’s just how they give back. they are prone to dramatic displays of emotions, often without realizing it, due to their naturally expressive and fierce nature. i’ve also noticed that they tend to talk a lot about themselves and may unintentionally interrupt or overlap in other people’s conversations. this can make them appear conceited, but they are just really eager to share a lot about themselves.

🔍 virgo moon - they’re super helpful, sometimes a bit too much, and very responsible. it’s like they think no one else is gonna sort stuff out, so they always step up as the “fixer” even when it’s not really their problem. they’re just really big on analyzing everything to get to the bottom of things. they can often seem all critical and constantly nitpicking, but really, it’s their way of helping you improve and showing they care. they notice every tiny detail, and if something’s off, it bugs them big time—total perfectionists. they’re pretty hard on themselves, likely due to early expectations and responsibilities weighing on them. they worry a ton, even about the small stuff, sometimes to an unhealthy level of obsession. they need a lot of alone time to process these thoughts, as they’re highly sensitive to their surroundings, which doesn’t quite help with their anxious tendencies. they can be self-conscious and prefer to keep their emotions in check, often analyzing their surroundings to gauge if it’s safe enough to express how they feel.

🧁 libra moon - these people are easy to hang out with—chill, laid-back, and down-to-earth. they prefer to keep things peaceful, so they can be somewhat passive and struggle to say no because they dislike upsetting people, which heavily impacts how they feel about themselves. confrontations aren’t their thing either, and setting boundaries isn’t their strong suit. they value fairness, detest any kind of injustice, and adhere to their morals. they’re open-minded, always looking at things from different angles, which makes people feel comfortable talking to them about anything. (they are also great listeners). they can be overly concerned about how they appear as they have a strong need to feel ”pretty” and liked. when decisions need to be made, they’re very indecisive and tend to let their friends choose for them. they dislike aggression and are put off by unnecessary meanness, as they themselves keep their less pleasant emotions in control without necessarily suppressing them. most people i’ve met with this have good facial harmony and are pleasing to look at.

🦂 scorpio moon - they might not seem like they’re paying attention, but believe me, they’re tuned in. you’ll be amazed by the random stuff they pick up just from quietly observing things and people. sometimes they don’t even have to actively watch; they just get it with one look, seeing through the facade because they operate similarly, like hiding behind that secretive and mysterious wall that they cling onto. they have zero tolerance for dishonesty, and the ones i’ve met with this are extremely blunt. nothing gets past them; they can sniff out lies or insincerity from a mile away. like all water signs, they’re super sensitive but get triggered easily. oh, and they can hold a grudge forever. they’ll remember what you did to them five years ago and still think you haven’t changed. they might seem chill on the outside, but inside, there’s a whirlwind of intense emotions that can erupt suddenly. they probably struggle with talking about their feelings and, with their secretive nature, you’ll never really know what’s going on with them.

🎃 sagittarius moon - adventurous folks who are always down for a good time, even if it gets them into trouble. they find optimism and humor in everything, so it’s pretty easy to lighten up their mood. they’re strong-willed and passionate about their feelings, not holding back when they speak their mind. sometimes they crack jokes at the wrong time or in a way that might offend—it’s just their impulsive nature. despite that, they’re incredibly cheerful and goofy, always ready to laugh and spread their enthusiastic energy. sometimes they can come off as ’know-it-alls’ without trying to be arrogant; they’re just super into their optimistic wisdom. many of them may have travelled a lot growing up or just liked to wander outside instead of staying indoors—the type who were always out exploring the city. they dislike uptight, dependent people; they need someone who can loosen up and loves freedom as much as they do. being tied down in any way is their worst nightmare, so good luck trying to control them.

💼 capricorn moon - these people can keep their cool even in tough situations. they’re not into big emotional displays and often come off as closed off or shy. it takes them a while to open up because they don’t think it’s necessary. although they are not unemotional; in fact, they care and love very deeply but are more private about it. they probably grew up in a household where showing emotions was restricted, or they had to grow up fast due to responsibilities. they might also have a hard time showing vulnerability and are super protective of themselves. they’re incredibly self-reliant and independent and sometimes feel guilty about asking for help. they give the best advice, but don’t count on it to cheer you up because they’re all about logic and practicality. sometimes, they keep their problems to themselves because they don’t like feeling like a burden to anyone, or they simply feel like no one cares.

🌀 aquarius moon - constantly feeling misunderstood, they feel like people talk more than they know. are humanitarian, but at the same time, they hate people. they are highly observant and can naturally grasp people’s minds and behaviors. they cherish their independence and personal space, which means they don’t do well with clingy people. consequently, they keep most people, including friends, at arm’s length. these people are pretty good at hiding their emotions. they aren’t likely to be very grand in expressing how they feel, which is why they can sometimes come across as detached. at times, they just process their emotions differently. i see them as being more rational and logical in their approach. also, they may find it challenging or uneasy to cope with deep feelings of vulnerability. very super accepting of people because they’ve been there themselves—being the odd one out. intelligent people can sometimes be very stubborn and think they are always right.

🐟 pisces moon - they are very empathetic and compassionate, making them great listeners. however, they often feel emotionally overwhelmed because they easily absorb other people’s pains and problems. sometimes, they struggle to understand and express their own emotions due to their impressionable nature. highly sensitive to their surroundings, they pick up on every subtle detail that others often miss, which can be overwhelming. they also find themselves easily drained in busy environments, constantly absorbing the emotions and energies around them. therefore, they require ample downtime in peaceful, quiet settings to recharge. they can feel like their needs get ignored and that they end up giving way more than they get back. one thing about them, though, is they tend to be very passive to the point where they can easily be taken advantage of, which is something they need to work on to build more assertion. the people i’ve met with this moon were exceptionally talented, whether in art, writing, or any other form of expression.

[jo-com]

‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ ➛ Shots

Oscar Piastri x Fem!reader

Summary: You guys are used to having people send out free drinks because they fancy Oscar, but when it was your turn he did not like it one bit. (Inspired by the oneshot I’ve read, I forgot who the author was sorry😭)

Genre: Fluff

Note: nothing, just look out for grammatical errors and this is not proofread

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

───── ─ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ─ ─────

The sun radiated brightly emitting a soft glow that shined over the flesh of your skin— it was creating a rather medium type of shade the longer it sets on your body.

You don’t mind it though, as long as you were relaxed and rested in the embrace of you boyfriend; everything was just okay.

You and Oscar, along with his fellow drivers decided to have a day off at the beach. It was trip that has been long overdue, due to their busy schedules the trip was postponed one to many times.

So when they had their day off, the lot of them took advantage of it and agreed to pay the beach a visit— enjoying the calming atmosphere that surrounds the beach and having to spend time with their significant others. The whole afternoon was nothing but perfect.

After playing volleyball, you guys decided to just chill near the bar lounge and gossip about anything that comes to mind.

You and Oscar sat at the middle in between Carlos and Lando. As they talk more and more, your eyes started to drift off; the sound of their voices started to mix the other background clamoring.

Your eyes were closed but was still tentative— you could still feel the brush of air that lightly ran over your skin along with Oscar’s fingers that circulates at the curve of your back.

With a low hum, you acknowledged his gesture and was pleased to let him know that you appreciate it.

As time passes by, they were all still happily chatting; laughing at each other’s joke and a bit of yelling but playful one’s of course. Everything seemed to be going so great.

Well not until one of the staffs walked towards their way, holding a tray that consists of one drink.

The whole group looked curiously as the man settled the drink in your table. The loudness of their voices suddenly died down—all eyes looking intently at the man whose just doing his job.

With the sudden quietness, curiously you fluttered your eyes open. Not being able used to the sound of silence, you propped your body up and was now leaning your whole body at Oscar’s chest.

Your eye’s widened as all attention was onto you— you felt the intense feeling of being stared at back of your head.

“Good day ma’am, that gentleman over there wanted to give you this” he spoke, his hand then went to his vest and pulled out a piece of paper.

The waiter handed you the note and left, right after you took the piece of paper.

“What does it say?” Max asked, just as curious as the others.

“I’d like to know as well” oscar spoke, his tone laced with both curiosity and jealousy.

“Well…” you trailed off and then proceeds to open the folded paper.

‘Hey hot stuff, can i have your number??’

You giggled at the childish note, making your friends cock their head to the side, anticipation rushed over them as they try to read the expression off your face.

Meanwhile Oscar was not having it, he caught a glimpse of the note and saw what was written over it. Oh he was not happy at all.

“It’s nothing, just some guy asking for my number, it’s stupid really” you spoke, brushing off the note like it was nothing, i mean it was nothing well for you it was.

For Oscar, it was like all hell broke loose, did that guy not notice Oscar or something?

All the others just laughed; you along with them. It was just a harmless attempt to get to you, it’s not that big of a deal. Oscar gets those every-time and it’s fine cause you know he wouldn’t act on it or anything.

You we’re about to reach for the drink when you felt Oscar’s hand grabbing it first. You turned to his direction and raised your brows at his action.

“Oooh someone’s jealous~” Lando teased, repeating it two more times before laughing out loud. The others heard the commotion that lando started and played along with his jokes.

Oscar rolled his eyes, completely denying his emotion. “I am not jealous, i just think it’s stupid,” he shrugged, trying to play it cool— even though you could tell his true feeling just by looking at his face.

“Yeah right” Carlos replied, earning a fit of giggle from around the group.

“You’re not actually jealous? Are you baby?” You spoke teasingly, chuckling a little at your own words.

“Like i said, i am not” he said in a monotone voice; he was acting childish it was adorable. In your eyes it was— it wasn’t in his.

You then slowly shifted your body to face his and snaked your arms that rested on his shoulder blades. “Don’t take it at heart baby, you know I won’t actually give him my number right?” You whispered, loud enough for him to only hear.

“I know…” he sighed, his arm settled in the plush of your thighs; squeezing the soft surface to find comfort.

“I just don’t like it that i was here and he still asked you, am I invisible or something?” He added. His head hung low to avoid your stare.

A soft giggle left your lips as you grazed your finger over his chin and slowly lift it up, so you could be eye to eye. “Now you know what i feel when someone does that to you, but baby rest assured that i am yours and only yours.”

Oscar slowly smiled and hugged your body close to his,”i love you” he muttered— the hug getting tighter to which you of course accepted happily.

“I love you too, my love” you smiled and pecked his lips; it was short but meaningful kiss of assurance.

The whole day then went fine, sure they were teasing him non stop but it doesn’t affect him that much like earlier because you were there to assure him every-time.

…

Creds to the real owners ideas, this is just my version of it! Hope you like it guys sorry for not posting to much I’ve been in a writers block😭😭

[mercy-burning]

A Study in Anchored Souls

Pairing: ghost!Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: In which the ghost of Spencer Reid discovers that in order to unveil his unfinished business and finally lay at rest, he must somehow enlist the help of the woman who now inhabits his apartment. Category: MATURE (18+) Content: Strong language, mention of weed, ghost shenanigans (?), female masturbation, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), brief handjob, unprotected p in v sex, Spencer is invisible for all of that LMAO Word Count: 11.8k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: God, I love ghost smut. That was a goddamn blast to write! Like you don't even know how giddy it made me putting these words to the keys. I even put in extra effort and made a little photo banner, which I’ve never done for a one shot before, and I’m kinda obsessed with it ngl 😂 I hope you love this one as much as I do! <3 Written for @imagining-in-the-margins Autumn Air writing challenge!

———

ACT I: Girls' Night

Spencer Reid always knew he would die.

It was a cold, hard fact of life that at one point, everyone would die. It was unsure when or how, but it happened. There was no escaping it. That thought alone was enough to squander most of his anxieties about death— even after a few near-death experiences and the constant danger his line of work tended to throw at him throughout his lifetime.

Still, the one thing he couldn't stand to think about was the "after". He wanted truly to believe that what happened after death was just nothingness, but after his encounter with Tobias, it stirred up all sorts of questions and unexplainable possibilities that were just too vast for even his brain to try and comprehend.

Then, of course, there was the fact that he was currently standing in his old apartment, watching somebody else live her life, completely invisible to her. He tried talking to her, too, but nothing. It was like he wasn't even there.

But why? It's not like he had unfinished business or anything. The unsub who shot him was shot down immediately afterwards. He watched him die before passing out himself. Why was he "awake" now, nearly 5 months after the fact, and not when his friends were grieving him? Where were his friends, and why has the afterlife chosen to tie Spencer to a place rather than the people that knew and loved him?

Logically it seemed reasonable but really, he just missed his friends. He missed his life.

He hated the afterlife, he decided then. There was no reason he needed to keep doing this when he couldn't even leave the confines of the apartment. He couldn't walk through walls or touch anything or sit down on the woman's gross floral couch. If he wanted to enter another room, the door needed to be opened, otherwise he was stuck right there in the living room, the kitchen, and the open dining space that connected the two. If he was allowed to live his afterlife with his mom, or playing Chess with Gideon, or travelling the world, free to go anywhere and see anything without hardship, it might have been different.

But no. He was stuck watching this woman struggle to move furniture by herself.

He didn't know her. Had never seen her before. She wasn't a student of his or a victim he'd saved or even a fling. She was a complete stranger. A complete stranger who unfortunately had terrible taste in decor and an even more unfortunately beautiful face.

Her name was Y/N. From what he could gather, she didn't have any family, at least not nearby. Her two best friends were the only other people in her circle that he'd seen in the apartment, and when they were all together it was... interesting. There was a lot of loud laughter and wine, and oh God, the sex talk...

It felt intrusive, but he couldn't leave. He could migrate to another room, maybe, but his ears still worked, even a little too well. His eyes, too, seemed to be as sharp as ever, any imperfections to his vision completely mended. He was simply over aware of everything, and yet hollow at the same time, and he hated everything about it.

But what could he do? He couldn't even touch anything or communicate to anyone, so how could he possibly figure out what was keeping him here and how he could get out of it? Did his new roommate hold some sort of knowledge or ability to help him solve this mystery, or was he destined to watch her live out her life in this place that he once called "home"? Was there any connection between them at all?

He didn't know.

Usually he liked puzzles, but this one was rather annoying.

He just wanted to rest.

Y/N had been moved in for just over a month (yes, there was a whole month of just standing there learning everything about a stranger because there was simply nothing else for Spencer to do) when finally, there was a small glimmer of hope.

Heavy on the small.

It was Girls' Night. Friday. It always consisted of too much wine and movies and snacks and discussions about whatever they were reading or watching. Despite the differences in the routine, the camaraderie made Spencer miss his friends. He wondered what they were all up to. Maybe, if this all worked out, he could actually find out.

But for now, he had to focus on the baby steps.

When the girls showed up with a Ouija board, he couldn't help the incredulous laughter that escaped him.

Y/N, it seemed, felt the same disbelief. "You guys, what the fuck is that?"

"What does it look like?" the first friend, Maya, retorted.

The other, Robin, added, "You were the one that said you felt like you weren't tooootally aloooone in this apartment..."

Her haunting inflection elicited a backhanded thump to the arm, Y/N groaning as she closed the door behind her. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I would want to know what or who it is! Besides, I'm probably just paranoid. It's just being in a new place and the anxieties that come with it, that's all. You guys are insane."

"Only one way to find out!"

Was Spencer really going to entertain this? A goddamn Ouija board? He enjoyed his fair share of spooky things and researching superstitions, but that was out of his realm of belief. On the other hand, one could technically consider him a ghost... He could look down and see himself, but nobody else could see or hear him... Y/N had obviously voiced a concern for feeling a presence to her friends, but how much of that feeling was accurate and how much of it was, in fact, 'new home anxieties'?

As the girls unboxed the board and set up their things, Spencer sighed, mumbling to himself, "Only one way to find out..."

Maya closed the curtains and turned all the lights off, meanwhile Y/N and Robin were collecting and lighting any candle they could find. They cleared off the low coffee table in front of the couch where the girls sat and set everything up there, Spencer taking a seat on the floor opposite the group. It was then that Y/N said something that made him laugh.

"Wait, shouldn't we give the couch to the ghost?"

"What?"

"Well, what if it's an angry ghost? And then we make it sit on the floor, and it decides to exact vengeance on us? Maybe we should... I don't know, be more hospitable?"

"Hmmm, maybe you're right," Robin said, standing up. "Do you hear that, Ghost? We're only being nice to you, so please don't kill us, m'kay?"

Spencer sighed. Little did they know, he couldn't actually sit on the couch. Or a chair. Or anything that wasn't the floor. It was like the ground was the only physical thing he was anchored to. Still, the girls had no way of knowing that, so they shuffled their way to the other end of the table, flipping the Ouija board so it would face the other way. Spencer got up and moved then. He'd have to stand uncomfortably in the small gap between the table and the couch, bending down at the waist to use the board, provided he could even touch it.

He had no idea how this was going to work, if at all.

It was all starting to sound and feel absolutely ridiculous.

The girls each put a finger on the planchette, nervous laughter emanating from them, and Spencer gave one last deep breath before reaching out to touch it himself, anticipating the moment of truth.

His hand hovered over the board, feeling a block just before he would make any contact. He couldn't touch it. His hand wouldn't even go through. He retreated and huffed, wondering if there was something he could do to communicate with them otherwise. He tried to blow out one of the candles, but with no luck. He could feel his breath against his own skin (could you even call it that at this stage?), but the objects in front of him were completely oblivious to his presence.

He was about to give up and call it a night, leaving the girls to have their fun, but then one of them gasped.

"Wait, don't we have to use two fingers? Is that how it works?"

"Shit, I think you're right."

They adjusted their positions and Spencer sighed, but indulged them just in case.

His hand lowered again, middle and pointer fingers approaching the planchette in anticipation. He half-expected there to be resistance again, but this time, a cool rush of wind gusted up in between them as his fingers made contact with the wood.

"Holy shit!" all four of them exclaimed in unison.

"Did you feel that?" Maya squealed excitedly. "Wicked..."

"No, not wicked!" Y/N whined. "We should stop!"

"Really? You know for sure now that there's a ghost living in your apartment, and you're just not going to ask it questions to make sure it's not harmful? Be smart about this, bitch," Robin countered playfully.

Spencer wanted to cut to the chase. He moved his hand, spelling out a word, and the girls collectively gasped before reciting each letter out loud hesitantly, like they couldn't believe what was happening.

"H-A-R-M-L-E-S-S"

"Oh my God! You have a Casper!"

Y/N shook her head furiously. "You guys, stop fucking with me, I mean it. This isn't funny."

"I didn't move it!" said Robin.

"Me either," said Maya. "Besides, you felt that wind right? How could either of us have done that?"

"I don't know, because you're a fucking wizard or something! Cut it out!"

"Hey, if you didn't want to do it that badly, you would have taken your hand off the planchette... Hey, Ghost, have you ever seen Y/N naked?"

"Robin!"

Maya cackled and Y/N went pale. If he wasn't already dead, Spencer would have probably gone pale as well.

The truth was, he had. Seen her naked, that is.

He wasn't proud of it. It happened by total accident. Sort of. He was following her around the apartment all day because he was bored, and he'd ended up locked in her bedroom with her. Either he was truly horrible at reading people (which seemed impossible considering his profession) or she had just gotten a random spurt of excitement, because the moment her door closed, she whipped her shirt off, exposing her bare torso to him, and he couldn't move. He was frozen, completely shocked at the sight before him. She reached down to take off her pants, and he turned around then, quickly becoming aware of the situation.

She rustled behind him and he tried desperately to walk through the door. Any time he got close, the barrier would stop him. He couldn't do anything but stand in the corner and pray to whatever that she was only changing.

She was, in fact, not changing.

Spencer swore in that moment at the table that he could still hear the low hum of her vibrator and every single sound that came from her body and mouth that night, and he was absolutely mortified.

He'd only dared to glance back when he heard the end, her breathing slow and the humming gone. It was silent for a while before he turned around entirely, only to find her asleep, sprawled completely bare over the covers. He wished he could have draped a blanket over her, but his hands were more or less tied.

Thankfully she was only asleep for about a half hour before she forced herself awake to clean up and actually go to bed.

Spencer never followed her around the apartment ever again. Just in case.

"Don't answer that, Ghost," Y/N rushed, "Robin's just fucking around. We promise to ask you serious questions from here on out."

Maya faked a snore. "Come on, Y/N, this is supposed to be fun. The ghost is harmless."

"No, the ghost said it was harmless. Doesn't mean it is."

Spencer thought for a moment as the girls went back and forth, and then he spelled out another word— or an acronym, rather.

"It's moving again!" Robin gasped, spelling out the letters.

"F-B-I"

"Holy shit did you work for the FBI, Ghost?" Maya inquired.

Spencer moved the planchette to the "YES" at the top of the board.

"Maybe... Maybe we should stop calling them Ghost..." Y/N took a shaky breath and closed her eyes for a brief moment before nodding. "Ummm... Spirit Who Resides Here..." Robin and Maya snorted. "What is your name?"

Spencer wished he could tell her she didn't need to be formal, but it was amusing watching her do it anyway. He spelled out his name, first and last, and the girls made a collective hum of acceptance. A normal name and not something concerning.

"We should Google him," Robin said matter-of-factly.

Maya hummed in agreement, but Y/N swallowed and asked another question. "Spencer, you're not... Going to hurt me, are you?"

He moved the planchette to "NO," and watched the relief take over her body, relaxing her muscles and her posture for just a brief moment. He could tell she was still wary, but it was a step in the right direction.

"See? Told you he was harmless."

"He still could be lying," Y/N mumbled. Then she sat up straight. "Not that I don't believe you, Spencer. I'm sorry. You just have to understand that I'm a woman living alone, and the thought of a man I can't see haunting my apartment is just... It's extremely terrifying."

He felt bad for her. As annoying as his situation was, he couldn't imagine being in hers. He almost wished he hadn't entertained the Ouija board at all and put her worries to rest, but since it was too late, all he could do was try and reassure her that he wasn't a threat.

His fingers moved again.

"U-N-D-E-R-S-T-A-N-D"

And then a pause, before: "S-O-R-R-Y"

Y/N's eyes dropped, and her friends made a collective "Awwwww," before a knock sounded at the door, jolting them all to move away from the Ouija board.

Spencer was knocked backwards, and he expected his newfound sense of touch to disappear once the connection had broken, but to his surprise, he found himself safely seated on the couch. His hands reached over the fabric, testing, and despite his distaste for the floral pattern on it, the cushions were suddenly the greatest thing he'd ever touched. He was grateful for this couch. And for the Ouija board, and for Y/N and her eccentric friends.

Speaking of which, Robin yelled out, "Pizza's here!" and got up with Maya to abandon the board. Pizza apparently seemed more interesting than a ghost, but for two women who Spencer could now tell (no thanks to his upgraded sense of smell) were a little high, that seemed reasonable.

As her friends happily greeted the pizza delivery man, Y/N reached out to touch the planchette again, just for a moment, and gently whispered, "Thank you, Spencer."

He returned it with an earnest, "You're welcome," but he wasn't sure if she'd hear or not. She looked around the area for a few seconds before turning around, and it wasn't clear whether she had.

But she seemed relaxed now, and that was a start.

As the girls sat at the dining table and ate pizza, Spencer tested out his new senses just a few steps away. He found himself thankful to be in a familiar place, even if the decor was different. The walls were the same and the bookshelves still stood, now filled with bright Romance novels and trinkets and photos that laid out Y/N's personality quite perfectly. He smiled, running his fingers along the spines of the books, missing the feeling even if they weren't his own.

He wanted to see if he could read one, just for the sake of feeling a book in his hands again, but he figured he'd wait until Maya and Robin were gone and Y/N was asleep.

Until then, he continued to touch things without making them move, not wanting to raise anyone's eyebrows.

And then, a gasp sounded from the dining table.

"I found him! I have his obituary right here!"

"Holy shit, let me see!"

Spencer made his way to the table to observe.

The girls passed around Maya's phone, looking at his obituary photo. Robin made a low whistle, then called out into the air on her left. He was standing to her right, unable to help the dry laughter that escaped him at the irony of the situation.

"Spencer, you were hot!"

Maya shook her head and sighed. "Yeah. What a damn shame. Sorry, man."

Robin seemed more amused than anything, turning to Y/N, who was reading through the obituary. "Hey, at least you can rest easy knowing you've got a hot FBI ghost watching over you."

"Yeah, but... Why? Do you think he lived here? In this apartment?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should ask him."

Y/N sighed, handing Maya her phone back. "I'm sure he has more exciting ghost stuff to do on a Friday night than entertain us three. All I know is he promised not to hurt me, so I don't really care if he stays."

He was glad for her ease of anxiety, but he certainly cared if he stayed. However, she sounded exhausted, and it was fair. Finding out your new apartment was haunted by a ghost (even a harmless one) sounded like a reasonably stressful situation. He wanted desperately to figure out how to finally move on, but for now he could accept the simple fact that he could actually touch things now, and let Y/N rest easy.

Even if he couldn't yet.

ACT II: X's and Oh's

Every time she came home, Y/N would greet Spencer kindly. Probably out of precaution (you know, just in case he really was lying about being harmless), but brightly all the same.

"Spencer, I'm home! I... I don't know if you're haunting me or the apartment, but... I hope you had a good day, just in case it's me."

He smiled, wishing he could greet her back.

Eventually, he found small ways to do it.

He fogged up a spot on her bathroom mirror, that way the next time she showered before bed, the heat would reveal a message on the glass: "Good night. —S.R."

Y/N talked to him that night, dressed in her pajamas and walking around the apartment like she was deciding where to talk to him. Eventually she decided on standing in her bedroom doorway.

"Spencer? You said good night so you might not even be in here, but... I guess this is me saying good night back...Thanks for being a nice ghost, I really appreciate it. If... If there's anything I can do for you, let me know, okay? Okay... Goodnight."

If only there was a way she could hear him. Communicating in mirror-notes was hardly good for anything more than a simple "good night," and despite the fact that he could touch things, he couldn't grip them, so writing on paper was out. He'd kept trying to open a door with the handle, and with no luck. It was starting to get irritating, wondering what the next step was to evolving as a ghost.

He couldn't even believe he'd thought up the phrase. Ghost evolution sounded absolutely insane, but he supposed it was his current reality regardless of how it sounded...

Tonight Y/N was out rather late. For a brief moment Spencer started to worry, but then the key turned in the doorway and relief settled in when she finally stepped inside. She seemed rather tired, but greeted him with a gentle smile all the same.

"Hi, Spencer."

"Welcome home, Y/N."

She didn't hear him, obviously, but it still felt rude not to say it back. He wondered if he could try to touch her in greeting. Maybe a brief brushing of hands or a tap of acknowledgement on the shoulder. But he didn't want to scare her, so he'd have to figure that out.

Thankfully, she seemed to have felt his curiosity somehow.

Later that night, as she laid in bed, she called out, drawing his attention from the living room where he tried to open a cabinet. Still no luck there.

"Spencer? Are you there?"

He wandered over to the bedroom, glad to see she'd left the door cracked open so he could get in. He hesitated before moving, hoping she wouldn't freak out when she saw the door open.

When he did finally gather the courage to move the barrier and step inside, he heard her gasp as she sat up in bed.

"Spencer? Was that you? Um... Move the door again if it was..."

He obliged, swinging the door shut gently as he stepped inside the room. The second the door clicked, he realized his mistake.

Now he was trapped in here with her. Not that it was a bad thing necessarily, but the last time this happened, he'd accidentally intruded on a rather intimate moment. His essence warmed at the thought.

"Holy shit. Um... This is kind of weird... I've gotten your notes and talked to you through the Ouija board, but... seeing you move things in front of me is... only slightly terrifying."

Her nervous laughter endeared him but also made him want to comfort her.

He walked over to the side of the bed closest to her body, hoping she'd be willing to communicate more thoroughly somehow. The two of them together could surely come up with something.

Again, their brains seemed to be on the same wavelength.

"If I hold out my hand... Would you touch it? Just to... let me know that it's you?"

Her arm outstretched, and Spencer slowly brought his middle finger down to touch hers, ever so lightly.

The second there was contact, there was a shock. Spencer jolted and Y/N yelled and yanked her hand back, her whole body shuddering as she kicked her legs. "Oh my God, holy fuck!" And then she laughed, reaching out to search for his touch again. He felt... different somehow, but he was still invisible to her. Her fingers wiggled and Spencer helped her out, gently holding her hand to keep it steady, as if to convey, "I'm right here, and it's okay."

"Hi," she said through a smile, her breathing heavy. "It's... Nice to... finally meet you. Kind of. Kind of meet you, I mean... Not kind of nice. I'm sorry."

He rubbed his thumb gently over the top of hers in response.

"I'm still wrapping my head around this whole thing, I... I guess I just wanted some extra confirmation that you were really here. Can I ask you some questions, Spencer?"

He rubbed her thumb again, and she breathed out with a smile.

"Okay um... Maybe draw a circle on the back of my hand for yes and an X for no... That sound good?"

Spencer traced a circle against her skin, and she nodded. "Good! Okay, cool. This is cool. Um... Did you live here? In this apartment?"

A circle.

"Is... that why you're here now?"

An X, and then a question mark.

"No... You don't know why you're here then?"

A circle.

Y/N pondered for a moment. "Could there be something of yours that's holding you here? Something we have to find or a mystery we have to solve?"

Spencer drew another question mark, then sighed. As much as he liked Y/N, he was pretty sure she would not be able to answer any of those questions. But there had to be another way to... level up, so to speak. To make him visible or audible.

"I'm sorry," she said somberly. "From what I've read, you seem like you were a good person. I hope you figure it out, whatever it is. And... I meant it. If there's anything I can do to help you, I will."

He drew a circle on her skin, but kept going around a few times, his symbol of appreciation.

Y/N warmed at the sentiment, smiling and hanging her head to look down at the hand he was holding. He didn't know it, but her skin was tingling at his invisible touch.

"Spencer... I know this is probably going to be weird... But the night I first met you, when my friends were with me... Robin asked you if... you'd uh... If you'd seen me..."

She wouldn't look up, like she was afraid to look at him even though she still couldn't see him. She didn't finish her sentence, seeming to be embarrassed about the punchline, but Spencer didn't need it. He knew exactly what she meant. Before she had time to retreat or move on, he drew a slow circle on the back of her hand.

Her head lifted. "You did see me? Naked?"

Spencer let out a shaky breath. Hesitated. Then drew another circle, followed by S-O-R-R-Y.

"Oh, I'm not upset, I promise. You don't have to be sorry."

Something shifted in her eyes then and she paused, and Spencer realized that before when she'd asked, she wasn't embarrassed. She was simply feeling the water before diving in.

He swallowed hard.

"Did you like what you saw?"

Her voice was soft, but simultaneously hard with mischief. He looked at her then— truly looked at her with his overly-perfect Afterlife vision, and even in the dim light emanating from the open curtains and the streetlights beyond it, he could see her clear as day. Rather than the big tee-shirt she always wore to bed, tonight she was wearing something lacy and lavender.

And her door was closed. He couldn't leave this room.

Although, he had a feeling right then that it didn't matter anymore. Because his hand tightened over hers instinctively and he felt himself get hard beneath the suit pants he'd been buried in.

That's new, he thought through a sigh of excitement, quickly recalling that night he'd seen her. And heard her. Feeling was growing in his joints, and he found himself flexing his hands with a new strength he hadn't felt since being alive.

"Fuck," he hissed, shaking his head in disbelief.

I think she may be slowly bringing me back to life.

He drew a slow, sensual circle on the back of her hand, and she laughed through a grin. "I was hoping you'd say that. I was also hoping that maybe we could try something a little... unconventional. The truth is, I've always hated living alone. It's too lonely, and I hate it... Now that I have you to keep me company, though... It's not nearly as bad."

She shifted her fingers, grabbing his hand and slowly bringing it to her face. Spencer caressed her as he came closer, his knees now touching the edge of her mattress. She closed her eyes and reveled in his touch, goosebumps forming along her skin.

"Will you touch me, Spencer?"

His name falling suggestively from her lips was quite possibly the greatest thing he'd ever experienced, among life and death. The afterlife. Whatever. None of it mattered, nothing mattered right then except for Y/N and her needs.

He drew a circle on her cheek and she laughed, the sound dissolving into a rather wanton sigh when he traced his middle finger down her jaw and over her throat. Just the gentlest of touches, barely even a touch at all.

"You want this just as bad as I do, don't you?" she asked, lolling her head to the side as his finger traced her collarbone and then her shoulder.

"I do." He focused on the way her chest heaved, slowly up and down as she melted into his touch, and then traced the strap of her nightgown until he reached the front, just at the curve of her breasts.

Y/N arched her back and pulled the covers away from her body, revealing herself to him in full as she got comfortable. She scooted and leaned back against the headboard, pulling Spencer along the side of the bed. He gladly followed.

"I give you permission to touch me in any way you see fit, okay? I... I want you to do whatever feels good to you. How does that sound?"

At the invitation, he quickly let his mind wander to extremely filthy places and wondered if he had the ability to taste again...

The thought alone made him twitch beneath his pants, and suddenly there was no going back.

He let out a long breath and touched the bottom hem of her nightgown. It was already short to begin with, but since she'd moved around in bed and her feet were flat, knees pointed upward, the fabric rode up to the very tops of her thighs. He drew another continuous circle right there, just below where it ended, and Y/N instinctively started to spread her knees apart.

Spencer stopped her, gripping one knee and spelling out W-A-I-T before slipping his shoes and jacket off. She arched an eyebrow, confused at first, but then looked down to the floor when she heard his shoes being kicked back and his clothing falling there.

And then, when he was ready, she looked back to the bed in front of her as Spencer climbed and knelt, positioning himself in front of her. Her eyes watched the mattress move, and a flicker of excitement danced over her features, amusing him.

He placed his hands on her knees, and even though she'd given him permission, he asked anyway, drawing a question mark against her skin.

She nodded. "Please."

Slowly, his hands pulled her legs apart. He drew it out as long as he possibly could, curious to know how long he could test her anticipation threshold. He still planned to give her everything she wanted, of course, but there was something oddly erotic about being touched by somebody you couldn't see that she was obviously keen to explore. So he would take his time until she begged him otherwise.

Sure enough, her stare was laser-focused on her body as he moved it to his liking, her breath hitching once her legs were far enough apart for him to realize she wasn't wearing anything underneath her nightgown and he paused. Already she was glistening with arousal, a sight that nearly made Spencer go completely slack.

"How long have you wanted this..." he wondered aloud, overwhelmed and in awe as his hands traveled firmly down her inner thighs. She squirmed under his bold touch, and leaned her head back against the headboard with a soft thud.

"Please," she whimpered, her hands reaching out to grip whatever bunched up fabric she could find on the bed.

He had planned to test the waters a little longer, ever so the scientist at heart, but figured that was as good of a plea as any to give in and finally give her what she wanted.

And so, Spencer ran a gentle, steady hand down through her heat, dragging his middle finger along the seam until he barely entered her, then came back up.

The long, desperate moan that Y/N drew out was like Heaven to his ears, and he'd never been more grateful for his heightened senses than in that moment. Every breath she took, every gloriously wet sound her body made as he explored her, every rustle of her hands through the sheets... All of it was sharp and crisp, and no other symphony had ever sounded so beautiful.

He wanted more of it.

One finger became two, and Spencer looked up to watch her face as he fingered her slowly. Parted lips and focused eyes fighting to stay open despite the pleasure she was feeling made for quite the perfect view, he almost didn't want to look away. But there was so much to beauty see between her soft facial features and the curves of her body and the obvious arousing sight below him. It was overwhelming how hot he felt in that moment, he could have sworn he was glowing.

His pace quickened, and Y/N had finally given into the temptation to close her yes, her head falling back again as she rolled her hips. He was getting impatient now.

With his other hand, against the inside of her thigh, Spencer spelled out "T-A-S-T-E-?"

"Oh, God, please. Yes."

Still hesitant to scare her even though his fingers were already deep inside her, rather than diving in as he so desperately wanted to, he slowly brought his head down to meet the area between her legs. He turned to press his cheek to the soft flesh of her thigh, and she gasped, the sound fading to a low laugh as she took in the feeling of his mouth and his hair caressing her skin. He kissed her then, tentatively darting his tongue out to taste her and sighing with relief once he realized he could actually taste again. Once he had that revelation, there was no going back. He was a man starved, his kisses growing more hungry as they traveled up and up and up...

Once his tongue made curious contact with the hood of her clit, Y/N gasped again, clutching her bed sheets and rolling her hips up to meet him. Spencer groaned, and a selfish part of him wished she could hear it. He wanted her to know just how crazy she was driving him, how much he wanted her. She could certainly feel it, her reaction to the vibrations causing her muscles to flex and her toes to curl, and he decided then that it would have to do. He was just going to have to make her feel his desire so deeply that it rattled in her bones and lingered there for the rest of eternity. He wanted to ruin everybody else for her, to stay with her until the end of time.

She reached and felt around for his head, fingers threading through invisible curls as she cried out.

"Spencer, you're so— so good..."

He hummed his approval at the praise and continued to work her, adding a third finger and sucking on her clit to feel her fingers tugging at his scalp. The sensation alone had him nearly lightheaded, and he wanted to stay there forever, lost in her taste and her touch and her noises.

God, her noises...

She sighed and whined, and stretched and squelched around his fingers, and he was convinced that had he not already been dead, he would have begged whoever was listening to keep him alive just to experience her forever.

The second she struggled to keep her legs open, trapping his head between them, he knew she was quickly approaching her orgasm, and he couldn't wait. He'd heard her climax before, but being right there as it was happening felt like a privilege he would always be grateful for. He wanted to replicate everything he'd heard that night and get to feel it, too— get to be the one to make her feel that way.

"Fuck, don't stop, I'm s— so close..."

Spencer groaned into her as if to say, "I know, I can feel you." Oh, how he wished he could talk her through it, to tease her with his words... Alas, he had no choice but to encourage her with his actions, so he used his free hand to search for one of hers. She gave up her hand to lace their fingers together, and his thumb continued to draw mindless circles into her skin as she clenched and released, over and over again until she was coming.

"Spencer!" she cried to the air, over and over again as if she could will him into existence again. It was a desperate plea, a manifestation, and the both of them secretly hoped that it would work.

She wanted to see him

He wanted her to see him, too.

He felt her climax subside, and then he slowly eased his fingers out of her and trailed his tongue down to keep tasting. A part of him was scared to realize he might not actually be visible like he hoped, but he pushed the potential disappointment aside and luxuriated in the way she tasted. He delved in and gripped the underside of her thighs to keep them steady, and with a delighted groan as he pushed his tongue inside, Y/N gasped.

"Fuck, I can hear you..."

The words excited him greatly.

"Thank God."

Spencer kissed her, tasted her until she was writhing and begging him to stop.

"Please, Spencer, kiss me."

He pulled away and looked up at her, smiling even though she still couldn't see him. "I am kissing you," he replied, pressing his lips to her thigh.

"You know what I mean. Come here..."

He laughed and obliged, kissing his way up her legs and crawling up her body. He slowly dragged his hands up her stomach, bunching up her nightgown and sliding it up her body the farther he got. Her eyes watched in allure as the fabric rode up and up and up, seemingly on its own. But she knew better, she knew who was undressing her and worshipping her, and it made her squirm.

She lifted her arms over her head and let him take the clothing off, revealing her chest to the chilly air. She watched as the fabric flew to the ground, and then felt Spencer's hands return to her skin, gentle fingers raising goosebumps all over. Her nipples pinched and hardened the closer he got to them, and soon enough he was palming her breasts as he pressed his forehead to hers, wedging his body between her legs.

"Kiss me," she breathed, feeling his nose touch hers. His breath was hot against her own, and her eyes fluttered shut. "Please..."

"Anything for you, sweet girl..."

She sighed as his mouth finally collided with her own, the heady and prominent taste of her arousal growing stronger the deeper he kissed her. Their bodies couldn't stop moving, wandering hands and urgent hips, and with his newfound ability to speak to her, Spencer spoke in gentle praises. He sighed out her name reverently, telling her how good and sweet and perfect she was, and she returned every word with a whimper, in awe that he was really there. He was becoming more and more present, and she couldn't get enough.

"I want to feel you," she said against his lips, dragging her hand down his invisible chest. She fingered through every button of his shirt until it was loose and open, and the cool hum of his skin as she explored his torso made her hands numb.

Spencer kissed her jaw and groaned, feeling himself throb at her words. "Let me help..."

He grabbed her hand and guided her to the bulge in his pants, even though she could have just as easily stumbled onto it herself. The intimacy of it all was almost overwhelming, so much so that when her grip tightened softly on his clothed erection, Spencer almost came undone right then and there.

"Fuck, Y/N... I'd say you're going to be the death of me, but..."

They laughed together until she kissed him again, deeply and with a sigh. "You're becoming more and more real, but... this feels like... it feels like a dream."

He understood what she meant, and it filled him with a tinge of sadness, but her hand slowly palming him was becoming harder and harder to ignore. He gripped her wrist and his breath hitched in her ear as he nipped at it.

"Trust me, sweetheart... I am very real."

She shuddered at his words and squeezed him tighter before fumbling for his belt.

"Spencer... Do you think..." Her hands successfully undid the confines of his pants and started to slide them down over his hips, trying not to mess up her words as he sucked marks into her neck. "Do you think that if you fuck me... I'll finally be able to see you?"

"Mmm, God, I hope so," he groaned earnestly, repositioning themselves so he could kick off his pants and rest her head on the pillow. She let him take the lead, her breath getting heavier with anticipation as he positioned himself between her legs and grabbed her wrist. Once again, he was guiding her hand to his cock, hard and, this time, bare. She cursed under her breath as she gripped him and he helped her languidly stroke himself in exploration. His fingers were strong over hers, and he applied just the right amount of pressure to draw out a groan from the both of them.

"Please," she sighed out desperately through shallow breaths. "Spencer, please, I need you..."

How could he resist?

He didn't even want to entertain the thought of trying.

"Then let me take care of you, sweet girl," he cooed, hiking her thighs to rest over his hips and slowly sinking into her with ease.

Once he was all the way in, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, comforting her through the low burn. He slowly rolled his hips forward as she cried out his name, her fingers coming up to grip his shoulders. "You feel that?" he whispered into her skin. "How perfectly I fit inside you? It's like you were made for me..."

"Uh-huh," she stuttered in agreement.

He stopped teasing her then, pulling back to start fucking her nice and slow as she adjusted to him. Her fingers curled and knotted into the loose material of his shirt. She would have slid it off of him, but the grip on something steady was nice as she let him focus on his ministrations. He seemed to be doing just fine with the shirt on, anyway, and it was hard to even think about anything other than how good he felt.

She wondered then, as he picked up momentum and started peppering kisses down her jawline, what she looked like to the night. If she were standing there, outside her own body, watching herself being thoroughly and beautifully wrecked by something invisible and obviously enjoying every second...

Her eyes rolled back at the image, just as Spencer started going harder. His hips snapped into hers with a strength and precision that felt like it was rattling worlds. It very well could have been, and neither of them had any mind to care; They were so intensively intertwined with each other that it was a different world entirely.

They started to burn hot, that familiar warm chill of impending pleasure creeping up through their bodies and setting them alight. Y/N snaked her arms up to Spencer's neck and brought him down for a searing kiss as she melted into him, and he returned it with a fervor that elicited the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He felt it all the way in his bones, felt the waves of pleasure start to drag him under as she squeezed him with her limbs and started to come undone herself.

The atmosphere around them was purely electrifying, bright snaps of skin and sharp whispers of mouth combining to brew a perfect storm that nothing would ever survive. It was wild and unconstrained, glimmering and grand, and in their wake, the two entities left their desire lingering in the air for the dead of night to stew in for as long as it would allow.

Spencer collapsed on top of her with a hefty sigh, and he was grateful to be able to finally share his voice with her. The mystery and simplicity of the X's and O's were fun to indulge in at first, but now that they'd grown closer and created something beautiful and memorable together, he had to tell her exactly how he felt— no symbols, no mysteries...

He kissed her softly and pulled back to look into her eyes, dragging a thumb over her cheekbone as he told her the truth.

"You're perfect."

Her eyes went wide, welling with tears as she reached up and ran a finger softly along the bridge of his nose.

"You're beautiful."

Relief and something else—something warm—stirred in Spencer's chest at the confirmation that she could finally see him, and that she was moved by what she saw. Who she saw...

He couldn't help the smile that adorned his face, and the soft joyous laughter that escaped him as she continued to explore his features with the pads of her fingertips, like she was trying to memorize him from touch alone in case he suddenly disappeared again.

"I mean it, Spencer, you're... even more beautiful than I imagined."

"You imagined me?" he inquired rather suggestively.

With a laugh, she brought him down for a slow, searing kiss. "Duh..."

Even though they were tired, they stayed like that for hours, kissing and exploring and sighing until the sweet lull of sleep took hold and carried them through the night.

For a solid few hours until he awoke, Spencer completely forgot that he wasn't alive.

ACT III: Unfinished Business

Y/N had never done so much research in her entire life. She liked Spencer, and she was more than happy to help him out, but man... Reading dozens of articles and textbooks and blogs about the different types of spirits and how to lay them to rest was a long, exhausting road that led pretty much nowhere. There was no way to know what type of ghost Spencer was or how to help him move on, not that she could see, anyway. She didn't know if he'd age with her, or be 'undead' long enough to become vicious and bitter like a lot of the spirits she read about, and Spencer's research was just about as inconclusive as her own.

A selfish part of her hoped she'd never find out, to keep him around forever... But she also knew that wasn't fair to him. No matter how lonely she was or how much fun they had and how they enjoyed each other's company, well... The fact of the matter was, he was dead.

And he deserved to rest.

In the meantime, in the hours between headache-inducing frustration at the lack of answers, Spencer told her about his life. His friends, mostly— the best people he'd ever known. The way he described them, she had a feeling that they might hold the key to his dilemma. If not directly, perhaps there was something about him that they knew, something that might give Y/N some insight into his ghostly purpose, so to speak. Not that she couldn't ask Spencer directly, but they'd already discussed a lot of back-and-forth on enemies and people that could have wanted to harm him, all of which were surefire impossibilities. Not to mention the fact that he seemed tied to this apartment and not anything else. Maybe that didn't have anything to do with it, but neither of them knew.

It was the only other option she had.

They laid next to each other in her bed, her head laying on his chest. Her ear warmed gently, and tried as she might to hear a heartbeat, all she could hear was a faint white noise, almost like he was merely a figure of tangible energy rather than a body. She supposed that was technically what he was, but as much as she'd grown to know and like Spencer, it was hard to think of him that way. It was... sad to think of him that way.

She frowned and nestled into him, trying to push away that petulant nagging in the depths of her soul that screamed "This isn't fair!" and she told him the most difficult thing she'd ever had the courage to push past her lips.

"I think I have an idea... You can say no if you think it's too weird, but... It might help you. Maybe."

"Mmm, what's that?" he responded, curious but not audibly hopeful. It made Y/N even more sad to think he probably figured he'd never find peace.

"What if I go talk to your friends? Do you think they might know something you don't?"

There was a beat of silence before she felt his chest heave with gentle laughter. "Derek Morgan definitely wouldn't think so..."

Recalling some of the funny stories he'd told her about him, she smiled. Still, she pressed. "I mean it. What other outlets do we have? Where else is there to look? If there's anyone who knows you better than anyone else, wouldn't it be them?"

Spencer sighed, giving it a thought. His fingers raked through her hair and massaged her scalp to the point of gentle, comforting numbness, another one of those domestic moments that had her feeling absolutely conflicted.

And then, he said, "Actually... I think I know exactly who you should talk to..."

———

There was a deep chill in her bones as she approached Penelope Garcia's apartment building, but not because of the lively, rustling October wind. In fact, she wanted to throw up at the thought of having this conversation. But not because she didn't want to help Spencer. She did, more than anything.

She was just afraid of being arrested.

Spencer assured her that it would be fine and that Penelope was harmless, and while the latter she could believe, it still nerved her to wander up to a woman's door and announce that she lived in the apartment of her beloved dead co-worker and needed to help him fulfill his destiny as a spirit. It sounded like a cruel joke.

"If anyone would believe you, it would be Penelope," he'd said, comforting her with a pat on the shoulder.

Maybe it was true, but she didn't want to find out if it wasn't. It was one thing to have the door slammed in your face by a grief-stricken loved one, but a grief-stricken loved one who worked for the fucking FBI was ten times worse; There were a lot more horrifying outcomes that came with that combination.

Still, she trusted Spencer on a level she'd barely trusted anyone else, and he wasn't even alive for God's sake... So she strapped on her boots, threw on her most comfortable jacket, and braced the wind and whatever fate blew with it.

For Spencer.

"For Spencer," she muttered under her breath as she rapped on the door. Three times. Third time's the charm, three's a crowd, three clicks of the heel and you're home... Three seemed like a lucky number. Three was inviting, friendly, not intended to inflict emotional damage.

Please, God, don't let her hate me, Y/N prayed to whoever was listening. Don't let this go horribly wrong.

A bright voice was yelling beyond the door, and with every millisecond that it got louder and closer, her heart started to beat faster. Blood thrummed in her ears, and she kept repeating, "For Spencer, for Spencer, for Spencer," on a loop to remind her why she was going through all this anxiety.

The voice got closer, but still muffled, until the door swung open. Then it stopped altogether. Y/N blinked and stood there with a stiff back and sweaty palms, in front of Penelope Garcia. The woman was obviously expecting somebody else to be at the door, but she didn't look disappointed, just confused.

"Oh. You're not Luke. How can I help you?"

"Um... My name is Y/N. I... Before I tell you why I'm here, I need you to know that I'm not trying to play a trick on you, and I don't want to make you sad or upset, and if there's anything you need or want to know about me in order to trust me, then I'll gladly give you that information, but this is really important and I need you to know that I'm not crazy or harmful, I just want to help him."

Penelope's eyes went wide as she reached out and grabbed her hand. The thrumming in her ears got louder as she took a deep breath and waited for the yelling to start, her body to be thrown to the ground, or a sharp piercing sting of a backhand.

The only thing she felt, however, was a tug at her heart and the gentle dissipation of nerves as Penelope spoke one simple word.

"Spencer."

"How... How did you know?"

"Ever since he... Since he's been... I just knew something didn't feel right. Everyone told me that it was just grief, and for a while that's also what I told myself, but... That feeling was just too... Wait, who did you say you were again?"

Y/N stuttered her name and gripped Penelope's hand tighter, hoping to create some rapport. "I live in his apartment. He's been... Visiting me."

Something in her eyes softened and then saddened at the confirmation that her friend was somehow still among the living. "A visitor in his own home... Poor Boy Genius..."

She couldn't help but smile at the nickname. "He said you called him that often..."

Wide eyes welling with tears, Penelope nodded and tugged at her visitor's hand. "He was the smartest person I ever knew. Kindest, too. Here, come on inside, I'll make you some tea. Do you like tea? Maybe some hot chocolate?"

Her hospitality as she ushered her inside was both comforting and saddening to Y/N. It was in her nature to be that way to guests, even strangers, sure, but it also acted as a shield from the somber feelings she'd been rushed with at a moment's notice, no thanks to said stranger.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, Penelope," Y/N rushed as she shrugged her coat off. "You don't have to make me anything."

"Oh, I know I don't have to, but would you like something warm to drink?"

She was practically begging for the distraction, something to do with her hands as she had time to process and prepare for what was about to happen.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you."

"Perfect, I'll get it started. Make yourself comfortable, Sweets."

She carried her coat over her arms, holding it to her chest like a tether to reality. None of this felt real, even though she could still feel the warm glow of Spencer's energy all around her, like it had burrowed into the pores of her skin and made a home there.

As she looked around at Penelope's bright and colorful space, she thought about him... How often had he been here? What did they do together, and where did they hang out? She imagined the laughter and the stories and the cooking... She wished she would have known him then, been a part of his life. As scary as he told her it was at times, she knew there were also plenty of bright spots, and she knew Penelope was definitely one of the brightest.

Y/N smiled, hugging her coat tighter.

"I like your apartment," she complimented, sitting down at a small dining table in the corner.

"Thank you! I always told Spencer he should get some more color, but... What can I say, he really loved his neutrals."

The familiar detail brought a smile to her face. "That doesn't surprise me. He told me that even though he likes me, he really hates my floral couch and that it looked weird in his apartment. I told him he was boring." And, that technically, it was her apartment now. In fact, her exact words after the fact were, "What are you going to do, haunt me?" before they both laughed and continued making out on said couch.

But she didn't need to remind Penelope of the fact that he was gone. Or to inform her that she was intimately involved with his ghost.

Just the thought alone was enough to make the low, ever-present hum of his imprinted memory on her skin even more intense, and she smiled.

"Oh... I know that look."

Y/N looked up at Penelope, who was grinning with the most mischievous gleam in her eye.

"What look?"

"You think he's cute, don't you?"

"I... I don't..."

"Well, I suppose even if you can't see him, I'm sure he's charmed you anyway. And you probably Googled him."

"How did you—"

"It's what I would have done... So?" she prompted, still waiting for an answer of some kind.

Y/N sighed, defeated and impressed by Penelope's skills at quickly retrieving information. But she also didn't want to lie to her, so she had no choice but to answer her questions with the truth anyway. "Well, I can see him. But I couldn't at first. My um... My friends came over one night, and they brought a Ouija board. We used it for shits and giggles because I'd joked to them after I moved in that I didn't feel totally alone, and well..."

"It wasn't a joke?"

Penelope brought over the tea, steaming and aromatic. Y/N took it with a nod of thanks and sighed as she sat down across from her.

"No. But I didn't actually think I was living with a ghost, I mean... I didn't believe in that stuff. But I also wasn't going to risk pissing him off, so I tried to be nice to him. I only knew his name, and then my friends looked him up and we read his obituary, and... I don't know, I guess I just thought he seemed like a good person, so he deserved some kindness in the afterlife. I said hello to the air every time I came home from work, I yelled out a good night before going to bed... And then he started leaving me notes on my bathroom mirror, and I guess... I don't know, the more he and I got to know each other, the easier things became. Eventually he could touch things, and then soon after he was audible, then visible..."

She conveniently left out the details of that journey, though her skin warmed again at the memory.

"And now that we can communicate, it's become clear to me that he doesn't know where he's going— Why he's not at rest... I feel bad for him. He deserves..." Her breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard before looking down at the mug in her hand. "He deserves to move on."

Penelope was quiet for a moment as Y/N sipped her tea. Her hand reached out to grab hers, and the gesture almost had her in tears.

"You sound... Sad about that."

She couldn't help the pressure that pulsed behind her eyes, stabbing at her throat... Still, she made herself speak, barely above a whisper to prevent that inevitable cracking of the voice that would surely break the dam she was trying so hard to keep still and strong. "I... I know it sounds absolutely crazy..."

"You're falling in love with him."

Though the words didn't come from her own mouth, they came flying at her like a sucker punch to the gut. The wind was knocked out of her for a moment, until all she could do was exhale and let the tears fall silently as she nodded.

Penelope let her cry for a minute or two without a word while holding her hand, until she was ready to elaborate. "But I can't... I can't keep him here, it's not right. If he doesn't have any unfinished business, then he should be put to rest. And I... I don't know how to help him. I thought maybe, if I could talk to the people who knew him the best... I could get an idea."

"Oh, Honey, I... I'm sorry, but I don't know any more than you do." She was talking through tears herself, and Y/N squeezed her hand back. "His mother's been gone for years now, and there's no other family that he was close enough with to even consider, other than us, but... Truthfully I don't know if we really count in the grand scheme of things... I'd like to think that we do..."

"You might not be blood-related, but you were his family. He loved you so much, I could tell by the way he spoke about all of you. He... He misses you a lot. I just wish he didn't have to feel that loss anymore."

Penelope frowned. "I wish I could give you an answer... When you go back to him... Will you at least tell him that we love him?"

"He already knows. But yes. I will."

"And I'll keep on thinking. Whatever you need, you got it. I have access to pretty much everything so if there's information to be had, I will get my paws on it, and you will know. Thank you for coming to see me. And for telling me that Spencer's okay... He is okay, right?"

Y/N hesitated. She wasn't entirely sure how to answer without giving away their extra-curricular activities. "I think so. He's tired, I can tell. But I do my best to keep him happy. The last thing I need is to have him angrily haunting me."

Penelope laughed, then sighed. "Unfortunately, I think that means you better get rid of that glorious couch, then."

The laughter was a welcome break from the tears, which had already started to dry on her skin, leaving her cheeks itchy. "I really appreciate you being so kind, Penelope... Losing Spencer must have been absolutely impossible, and having a complete stranger show up at your door and pour salt in the wound... I couldn't imagine..."

"Y/N... If there was any person on this planet who could have moved into his apartment and helped him through this... I think I speak for the whole BAU when I say that he's lucky it's you."

The sentiment made her chest tight, and an involuntary pout tugged at her mouth. "You... You really mean that?"

Penelope laughed and squeezed her hand again. "Oh, Darling, you even pout like him... You're kind of perfect for each other."

"I don't know whether to be happy or sad about that," she replied through a fit of hysterics, and Penelope joined her.

It was clear then that these two women were meant to bond seamlessly over the loss of someone dear, one in life and the other in death. They were two sides of the same coin, a best friend and an anchor to the other side. It was a solace that neither of them had expected, but welcomed with open arms and warm understanding.

They exchanged stories and laughs and phone numbers and hugs, and joked about exchanging addresses, and a while later, just as Y/N was about to go home, fastening her coat, Penelope stopped her.

"Wait... I don't mean to make you sad or anything, and maybe this isn't the answer that either of you were looking for... But after today? If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Spencer's unfinished business is you."

The thought froze her entirely. It would stand to reason that they were meant to find each other, only to let each other go. Because, of course. Nobody was ever that lucky, especially neither Spencer nor his new roommate.

Sensing her overthinking, Penelope continued. "I know it's unfortunate given the circumstances, but... You did say that the more you got to know him, the more... alive he became. At least as alive as he can be. And I've only known you for about an hour, but I can confidently say that you are about as perfect for Spencer as somebody could be for anybody. And..."

She shifted on her feet, unsure of whether she should actually say what she was about to tell her, but obviously needing to make her point with as much context as possible. "You know, he's tried. He watched many of us find love and have families of our own, and he's always wanted that, but... He never got to have it. I think... that was the one thing that he always truly and completely wanted, especially after his mom passed and he had no one left but us... Somebody to go home to, somebody who understood him and cared about him and wanted to spend the rest of their lives with him... A soulmate. And... Y/N, I think it might be you."

Her head was swimming and tears were blurring her vision again. As much as she wanted to believe it, ever the lover of grand romantic endings, it didn't make sense. She didn't really believe in soulmates, did she? Then again, she didn't believe in ghosts, either, until recently...

"How could you possibly know that?" she whispered to Penelope, hoping for a switch in her brain to flip. She wanted to believe it. She wanted to dash home and confidently confess to the ghost living in her apartment that they were made for each other and that she could finally set him free.

And... Then what?

There had to be another explanation.

"I wish I could tell you how, definitively," Penelope answered sadly, "and like I said, I don't want to upset you... But it's just a feeling. And my feelings are hardly ever wrong. Hey, I mean I had a feeling that Spencer was still out there somehow, and that turned out to be true, right?"

"I... I guess," she sniffled.

"Just... Do me a favor, okay? Think about it. Spend tonight with him, like you normally do, and really really think about it. And tell me you don't feel it."

It almost sounded like a playful challenge rather than a request. Y/N wiped at her eyes and sighed. "You're really sure?"

"Positive."

Y/N wasn't really sure if she believed it still, but there was a conviction in Penelope's voice that was too sincere to ignore. And Spencer trusted her, which obviously meant a lot.

So, she promised that she would think about it anyway, bade her new friend farewell, and made her way outside, where the wind had died and left the streets lifeless and quiet.

———

Something was different about Y/N when she came home.

Spencer tried to let her go about the night and refrain from saying anything, but after regretfully informing him that Penelope had no wisdom to offer her about their situation but would get back to her if anything did come to mind, she was... odd. Perhaps she was just as tired as he was in trying to solve this mystery, or just tired in general. But he didn't want to push her if she didn't want to open up, so he did what he could and offered his company.

Still, she didn't seem right.

He thought maybe a flurry of warm, tender kisses along her skin would put her in high spirits, but the longer she let him worship her skin without so much as a sigh in return, it started to sink in that something was deeply wrong.

"Are you okay?" he asked sweetly, stroking her jaw with the back of his hand as he looked her in the eye. She looked at him for only a few seconds before averting her gaze, like if she allowed him to meet her eyes for any longer, he'd pull something from her that she'd rather not share. It sent a small wave of panic through him. "Y/N, talk to me, please... What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"No," she said unconvincingly.

"You don't... have to talk about it if you don't want to... But you're upset about something, and I want to help you. I'll do whatever you need me to. I'll listen, I'll leave you alone, I'll kiss it better... Whatever you want. It's yours."

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, defeated. "God, you FBI people are too good at getting information out of people, it's annoying."

Spencer laughed. "It wasn't my intention to make you feel interrogated. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm just... I'm..."

She couldn't seem to get out the words, like there was a frustrating lack of understanding how to convey them. He drew continuous circles gently into her palm and waited patiently for her to open up, silently promising that he would be there for her when she finally found the right words.

It was a question that she finally settled on. "Have you ever been in love? Like... Really in love?"

Something inside him jolted at the thought of where this conversation might lead. If he had a heartbeat, it would have raced and thrummed so heavily that the organ might have failed. In truth, he'd been thinking about it for a week or two now. Ever since the night he realized that his interactions with her were the key to becoming more sentient, the thought crossed his mind that perhaps she was the thing he was tethered to.

He didn't dare say it out loud, or to her face, because... Well, it was too soon, wasn't it? And it wouldn't have mattered anyway, because once he was lain to rest, they could never be together.

It was complicated.

"I think I was, a few times," he finally answered in earnest. "And to be fair, just because things didn't work out with them, it doesn't mean I didn't really love them. I did. But... I think deep down I knew they weren't really The One... Does that make sense?"

"I think so... I don't think I've ever been in love before. Even with long-term partners, we said the words, and I felt something that was happy and I thought was love, but..." She paused, avoiding his eye again before rapidly blinking back tears. "Now I feel this... this anchor to you that I can't let go of... I want to be around you all the time and I know it's not fair because you deserve to rest, but I can't help it. Spencer, I... You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm afraid that once I really admit it out loud, you'll be gone forever."

He knew, then, that this was it. Listening intently as she confessed, absorbing every word and allowing himself to feel and admit what he knew to be true for a while now, his body began to tingle. It was so dull at first, he almost mistook the feeling for 'butterflies'. It felt cruel not to tell her that he was starting to fade, but he didn't want to ruin the moment or panic her. He didn't want to tell her that she was running out of time. That they were running out of time.

So, instead, to try and ease the blow, he told her something sweet.

He told her, "I love you."

Her eyes glossed over at the confession. She reached urgently for his hands, her grip strong and willing like she knew what was going to happen. And maybe she did. Still, she sat there and listened to him, her eyes taking in every inch of his presence and committing him to memory.

He aimed to make it a memory she would never forget.

"I don't know when we'll see each other again, but I don't doubt that we will. Not for a second. And until then, my only wish is that you keep allowing yourself to fall in love. Don't be afraid of it. You shouldn't deny yourself just because I'm gone. Can you promise me that you'll try?"

Y/N blinked away tears and tugged at his hands. "What if I can't?"

"You will, my sweet girl. And I promise, I won't be mad at you."

She laughed despite herself, then almost cried again when she felt his presence start to fizzle and break in front of her eyes. She was desperate to hold on to him, clutching his hands for dear life and breathlessly whispering, "I love you, Spencer Reid," as if the conviction alone would be enough to keep him here. As if whatever cruel deity was putting them through this would see how much she needed him and decided to spare her the misery.

"I wish I could have known you when I was alive," he told her, leaning in closer. "Maybe we could have been neighbors."

She smiled through tears and pressed her forehead to his, the contact making her skin go numb. Silently she hoped that wherever he was going, she would be sucked in with him. "Then I would have invited you over for dinner."

He squeezed her hands, already feeling his grip fading, his essence nearly numbing him. Still, he willed himself to stay long enough to paint this life for the two of them—one they would never get to have, except only in dreams and perhaps in another life entirely. Anything was possible, after all.

"And I still would have made fun of your ugly couch."

"And I would have pushed you onto it and made you take it back."

"And I would have refused."

"And I would have kissed you ."

"And I would have kissed you back."

"And I would have fallen in love with you immediately."

"And I would have sworn that I'd fall in love with you in every universe."

She closed her eyes, feeling the very last remnants of his presence as she whispered, "I think it's safe to assume that you already have."

"And I think I'm inclined to agree."

THE END

[thehighladywrites]

— “You were flirting with me?”

pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

summary: You leave Azriel mid-makeout to debrief with your girls

warnings: suggestiveness, the ic being nosey, miscommunication, rhys and cassian knowingly riling az up, the girls get drunk and interrogate reader, the boys get drunk and interrogate az,

amara’s note: this might be the funniest thing i’ve ever written. also sorry for my absence i’m posting more soon💗💗

You’ve had a massive crush on Azriel since the day you met him. He didn’t really notice you and was somewhat nice to you.

Really, you had no idea how you started crushing on him, I mean he paid you no special attention or anything. Maybe it was because he was quiet, handsome, tall, dark, mysterious and only spoke when it was necessary. He also cracked jokes and flashed grins that made your heart flutter. The Mother knows how much it grated your nerves whenever a male tried to hit or talk to you when you clearly had no desire to.

Azriel was the complete opposite and you started worrying that you were the one who grated on his nerves everytime you tried speaking to him.

“Hi Azriel, how are you doing?” you noticed him sitting at the dining table, collected yourself and asked him.

“Good,” he said staring straight into your soul before he realized his answer wasn’t really socially appropriate so asked you, “How are you?”

You just smiled awkwardly and nodded, “I’m fine, thanks.”

And that was how 90% of your conversations went. There was no further comments or extra questions and fuck if it wasn’t awkward. You really wanted to get to know him but you also knew how impossible it was since even the people he had been friends with for half a millennium often considered him a mystery.

Sensing the weird energy in the room, you just swiftly said goodbye, not bothering to stay to hear his goodbye.

He wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to do something, perhaps eat brunch at the restaurant you talked about to Cassian but you were moving before he had the chance. Azriel got extremely annoyed with himself, wondering why the hell he couldn’t ask you out like a normal person.

With determination, he promised himself to try the next time.

—

The girls all knew about your very obvious crush on Azriel and encouraged you to approach him often. They were all mated and happy and you wish it was you, you that had a mate, you who got loved and kissed and hugged and fucked.

But you just had to be obsessed with a man that paid you no attention… Maybe that’s why you wanted him, you viewed him as a challenge, and you loved challenges. Despite wanting his attention and wanting to get to know him, you still had self-respect and didn’t act like a pathetic, desperate, love-sick puppy infront of him.

So you went from always greeting him and smiling at him, trying to initiate conversations to flat out ignoring him. I mean, he never talked to you first so maybe it was time to accept it and just admire him from afar.

—

Azriel began to sense a dullness in his days, a void he couldn't really pinpoint. He realized he hadn’t talked to you, or rather, you hadn't talked to him while he played it cool, trying not to make his beating heart obvious. He noticed the absence of your chatter, questions and lovely voice, realizing that his days grew more mundane and boring without someone asking about his shadows, what his plans were, where he got Truth-Teller.

Azriel observed during dinner that you didn't glance at him once; your attention was solely on the girls or his brothers. You chose to stand up, walk across the dining room and grab the bowl of potatoes beside him instead of asking him for it, and it really irked him. Was he not worthy of passing a simple bowl of fucking potatoes?

He wondered if he had done something to make you avoid talking to him. Despite not being the most talkative person, he paid very close attention to everything you said, even if it seemed unnoticed. Azriel loved your presence and he thought he made his interest in you very clear when he looked at you.

Cassian had said girls like eye contact, still everytime he stared into your soul, you only looked weirded out. Was he doing it wrong? Maybe he wasn’t keeping eye contact long enough.

He had grown extremely fond of your talking and felt empty without it. Finding you alone in the kitchen while you prepared a quick breakfast, Azriel decided it was time to talk. The others had already headed to the training grounds as you had slept in. You were cooking your breakfast, not noticing Azriel.

“Hey.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as you slowly looked up at him. Was he really talking to you? But why?

“Yeah?”

He stayed quiet for a bit, just staring at you in that weird way he always did. Even though he wasn't sure if you liked him back and was afraid of rejection, he still wanted to talk to you.

“How have you been?”

You fight the urge to furrow your brows in confusion. Since when the hell did Azriel care? You were truly baffled and tried to act normal.

“Uh, I’ve been good, you?”

Azriel didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

Usually, you'd spontaneously share every detail of your morning routine, even without him asking. He fucking loved to listen as you talked about your broken hairbrush, the struggle of choosing clothes, the snug fit of your leathers due to gained muscles, and the morning hassle with your hair, prompting you to wake up 20 minutes earlier than usual.

“I’m okay. Have you done anything else today? How is your hairbrush?”

A stupid question really, but Azriel didn’t care. He wanted to see that familiar spark in your eyes as you talked about anything and everything. No way would he ever forgive himself if he ruined something between you.

Your face heated at the fact that he remembered such a minuscule detail about something you said weeks ago.

”Oh, the hairbrush? It broke so I got an enchanted one. Heard it's like a hair miracle, tried it, and it really worked. By the way, your hair looks good. Did you cut it lately?”

Azriel couldn't help but warm up at your rambling. His eyes widened at first, and then he threw his head back and laughed. The deep, rich sound was familiar, yet it never failed to feel like the first time. It was a beautiful and joyful melody that always managed to make you melt on the inside.

"I really missed you," he admitted, feeling your heart pound in your chest, unable to meet his gaze.

"You did?" Azriel's soft smile warmed your heart, the one you'd nearly missed.

"I did. I enjoy being around you and hearing your voice," he confessed.

"Oh, I always thought you didn’t." You couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and relief.

Stepping closer, Azriel's presence loomed over you, his hand gently lifting your chin.

“Please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m sorry that my silence ever gave you that impression. I thought I was making my interest clear, to be honest,” he murmured, sincerity gleaming in his hazel eyes.

“Okay, I promise I won’t misunderstand again. But why did you think you made yourself clear?” you whispered, feeling a rush of energy as you locked eyes with him.

“Because I made a point of holding prolonged eye contact, thinking it was a clear signal of my interest,” he explained matter-of-factly.

You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows, suppressing a laugh. “So, all those times you were staring at me, you were actually flirting?”

Azriel's expression softened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, yes. I thought you knew.”

Suppressing a giggle, you bit your lip and glanced away, not wanting to offend him.

“Ah, not exactly crystal clear, but I understand now. Let’s go for a walk and chat some more,” you suggested, linking your arm through his.

"Sounds perfect. Now, tell me about those new leathers you got," he said, his playful demeanor easing the tension, steering the conversation towards lighter topics.

—

Over the next few months, the bond between you and Azriel deepened. He trusted you with secrets of his life that remained hidden from everyone else. These private conversations became the pillars of your connection, sweet moments for you only.

As the months went by, an unspoken desire for more lingered between you and Azriel. Yet, despite the magnetic pull, something kept you from going the final step.

You've had countless close moments where you almost kissed, where just a tip-toe closer would have sealed the deal. But it never happened. So close, yet so frustratingly far away.

—

Mor's question disrupted the laughter and gossiping of the girls' night, the clinking of wine glasses punctuating the anticipation in the air.

"Remind me again why you and Azriel aren’t a couple?”

Mor's curiosity hung palpably, shifting the mood from gossiping to an interrogation.

“Well, it’s kinda complicated,” you replied, swirling the wine in your glass as you gathered your thoughts.

“We have a great connection, but there's this unspoken understanding between us. It’s like there's a boundary we're afraid to cross.”

Amren raised an eyebrow, her sharp eyes observing you closely. “Unspoken understanding? Fancy fucking excuse”

Elain giggled and nodded in agreement.

You chuckled, “Maybe it is, but it’s like we're both tiptoeing around something, afraid to ruin what we have. I mean, do I want to be with him? Yeah, I do. But we might fuck something up and I think we have too good of a relationship to throw it all away.”

Nesta leaned back with a smirk, “Sounds like a case of unresolved sexual tension. Maybe the only cure would be to finally get a good dicking.”

You shot her a look, “You make it sound like a medical condition. Also that has got to be some plot from your smutty books.”

Feyre chimed in, “Maybe it is. Maybe it's time you took a bold step to see what happens. Who knows, it might get you laid.”

The group erupted into laughter, but underneath it, you couldn’t ignore the truth in their words. You liked him, there was no denying it. But did he like you as much?

—

“Is she dating anyone?” Rhysand’s casual question caught Azriel off guard as he browsed his big wine selections with Cassian while the girls where out of the house.

Azriel feigned ignorance. “Who?”

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a knowing look. “Y/N. Is she dating anyone?”

Something about the question irked Azriel. “Why the hell do you care?”

Rhysand shrugged nonchalantly. “Just curious. I might set her up with someone.”

Azriel's jaw clenched as he fought to mask his frustration. Rhysand's casual tone grated on his nerves, igniting a simmering jealousy he hadn't realized he harbored. Suppressing a sigh, he forced himself to respond evenly,

“She's a grown female, Rhys. She doesn't need you playing matchmaker for her.”

Cassian chuckled, sensing the tension in the air. “Easy, Az. No need to get defensive. I think little Y/N might want a lover of her own, no?”

Azriel's gaze hardened, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes. “I'm not being defensive. I just don't appreciate your implication. And no, she doesn’t need some lover.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, his smirk bordering on mischief. “Interesting. And why is that?”

Before Azriel could formulate a response, you had returned with the girls, your laughter echoing through the room, shifting the focus away from the questions. Azriel sighed, silently cursing Rhysand's annoying questions and the unresolved feelings stirring within him.

—

You turned off the tap and brought the glass of water to your mouth, much needed after the amounts of wine you and the girls had downed. It was honestly a miracle Mor had the energy to winnow you to the house of wind.

As the girls walked to the library for more drinking, you snuck into the kitchen for some water.

You put down the tall glass of water, swallowing the refreshing and cool drink before your body tingle.

Your stomach flipped, blood heating as your skin broke out in goosebumps.

His presence was undeniable.

Azriel was here.

Turning around to leave the sink, you saw him standing there behind the island, looking at you with a soft look that made your stomach flutter and cheeks heat.

"Hi," Azriel greeted softly as you approached him.

"Hi, Az." you replied, feeling a surge of warmth at the sight of him.

"Did you have fun with the girls?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Yeah, I did," you answered with a smile as you looked down.

Azriel's lips twitched, and he gently lifted your chin with his pointer and thumb. He looked down at your midnight blue dress and raised his brows

"You look absolutely breathtaking."

Your heart beat faster and faster and you were damn sure your friends upstairs could hear how hard it drummed against your chest.

You leaned into his touch, the move careful and intentional. Azriel’s thumb rubbed against your jaw, your eyes glistening in awe at his handsome self.

”Thank you. It’s nothing special, I just like the color.”

Azriel's gaze softened, his eyes lingering on yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "It's not just the color," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you. You’re beautiful."

A blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip nervously, unsure how to respond to such sincerity. But damn, he looked good, and the alcohol in your system made you feel bold enough to speak your mind.

"You look really good," you said, your voice a little breathless. "This shirt suits you."

Stepping closer, you let your hand rest on his sturdy chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the tension between you palpable. Slowly, your hand traveled down to the planes of his stomach, each movement filled with anticipation.

As you looked up at him with a mischievous smile, you played with his belt, the air crackling with the electric energy of the moment. His reaction was immediate, his gaze flickering with desire as the tension between you reached its peak.

Azriel clenched his jaw, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your breaths mingled. The sudden proximity caught you off guard, making you gasp softly.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with desire. "Let's not do things we can't handle."

Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down your spine as his proximity sent electric sparks coursing through you. “That sounds like a challenge, Azriel,” you taunted, your voice barely a whisper.

Azriel’s smirk widened, his gaze burning with intensity. “Consider it an invitation.”

You looked at each other, breathing shallowly. Azriel’s intense gaze softened gradually as his eyes traveled further down to your lips. He swallowed, pupils wide with lust.

"May I-"

"Yes."

It was a tender, sweet kiss that caught you off guard in the best way possible. You didn't expect him to be so gentle, but you welcomed it wholeheartedly.

His touch was tender yet reassuring. One hand cradled the back of your head, while the other wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him.

You melted into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness. Your hands found their way to his neck, clinging to him as if you never wanted to let go.

Azriel’s shadows swirled around you lazily, one trailing up your calf and causing you to twitch in surprise. Pulling back, you were met with his clouded, lustful eyes. A mixture of concern and confusion cleared up his hazy gaze.

Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. Here you were, in the kitchen, making out with Azriel—the very male you'd had a crush on for what felt like an eternity. Panic surged through you, and you took a step back, needing a moment to collect yourself.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm, I’m fine, just give me one second,” you managed to stammer out before turning on your heel and practically stumbling out of the kitchen.

With your heart racing and your mind in a whirlwind, you burst into the library where the girls were lounging, each with a glass of wine in hand. Feyre perked up at your arrival, offering a lazy smile.

“There you are, was wondering where you went,” she mused, clearly already feeling the effects of the alcohol.

Without thought, you blurted out the bombshell news. “Guys, Azriel and I kissed.”

The revelation seemed to sober up the entire room, and suddenly, you were bombarded with questions and reactions from your friends.

“Oh my gods, finally,” Mor exclaimed, practically jumping in her seat

“Is he a good kisser? Was it rough or soft? How did he hold you?” Nesta fired off questions, her curiosity piqued.

”All of you owe me 10 cold coins each. I’m always right,” Feyre slumped back in her seat, sipping the wine as she nodded happily.

“I knew you were up to something while we were in here,” Amren chimed in with a knowing smirk.

You grinned widely as you shared all the details with the girls, who were just as excited as you were. They leaned in, eager to hear every bit of the story.

As the questions swirled around you, Elain’s confused expression brought the conversation to a halt.

“Wait, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be kissing right now?” she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

You froze, the weight of her words sinking in. “Well, yes, we were just... making out, and I had to come here. I panicked.”

In response, your friends practically shoved you back outside, Nesta taking the lead. “And don’t you dare come back until your legs are shaking and you have a big smile on your face,” she declared with a mischievous grin.

You took a deep breath, suppressing your smile as you made your way back to the kitchen. Azriel stood there, leaning against the kitchen island with his feet crossed and arms over his chest.

“Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice laced with concern.

You softened at his words, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling him down slightly, you gave him a loud kiss that ended with an audible "mwah."

"I really couldn't be more comfortable. I love you, Az. Like a whole lot," you confessed, your voice filled with sincerity and affection.

Azriel's eyes softened at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender.

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than I can put into words."

You felt a rush of warmth flood through you at his admission, your heart fluttering with happiness. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed him again, the feeling of his lips against yours sending shivers down your spine.

Azriel grabbed your hips and slowly backed you into the kitchen island. You yelped when he picked you up and put you on the counter, deeping the kiss.

“Let me take you on a date. I want to do this properly,” he whispers breathlessly between kisses as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

You put your hands on his chest lovingly as you nod, smiling up at him. “I’d love that.”

—

extra scene where rhys and cassian visit azriel in the kitchen:

Azriel stood frozen as you left, his mind going into overdrive, worrying if he had done something wrong. Just as he was about to follow you, Rhys and Cassian popped their heads into the kitchen.

"Yo. Where did she go?" Cassian asked, scanning the empty kitchen.

Azriel furrowed his brows at the pair, or rather their heads.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Go before she comes back," he urged, shooing them away with his hand.

Rhys leaned against the kitchen island, a satisfied grin on his face. "It's about damn time."

Cassian nodded in agreement. "Fuck yeah, took him long enough. But hey, better late than never."

Azriel frowned, feeling the weight of their words. "You guys make it sound like it was some kind of mission."

Rhys chuckled. "In a way, it was. And you finally completed it."

Azriel sighed, "Stop talking like that, you sound fucking ancient.”

Cassian smirked at him, arms over his chest as he said “Y’all kissed?”

Azriel's cheeks flushed slightly at Cassian's question, but he maintained his composure. "Yeah, we did."

Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "And?"

Azriel shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "And it was... nice."

Cassian laughed, clapping Azriel on the back. "Nice? Come on, tongue?”

"Yeah, tongue,” he said trying and failing to suppress a smile.

Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I knew it, you little freak. What else?”

Azriel's expression turned guarded. “Okay, that's all you dickheads need to know. Now, get the fuck out before she comes back.”

Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up, a finger wagging in Azriel’s face. “You better not fuck in my kitchen, I swear to the Mother, I’ll make you both scrub every inch.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and ushered them out, leaning against the kitchen island, waiting for you.

[waitimcomingtoo]

How Do I Get You Alone?

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: When you get stuck in the lab together during an earthquake, you and Peter share a moment but have to hide it from your dad

Masterlist

Peter was working in the robotics lab in Stark tower one day like usual. He had his earbuds in and was blasting music so loudly that he didn’t hear you come in. He happened to look up and saw you standing in the middle of the lab with a clipboard in hand. He screamed in surprise and tore his earbuds out, allowing the music to sound throughout the echoey lab.

“Were you listening to Justin Bieber?” You asked as Peter quickly paused his music.

“No.” He scoffed and flipped his phone over so you couldn’t see that he was in fact listening to Justin Bieber. You nodded your head skeptically and started to walk around the lab as you wrote things down on your clipboard. Peter sucked in a sharp breath and felt his cheeks redden as he watched you. He’d been working with Tony for 6 years now and harbored a rather large yet secret crush on you for the duration of that time. It wasn’t often that you were alone together, so he needed to make every moment count.

“What are you doing here?”Peter wondered. “I mean, not that you can’t come in here. Obviously you can. Your daddy owns the building. I mean, your dad. Unless daddy is his preferred pronoun-“

“Peter. Relax.” You cut him off. “I’m just doing a routine checkup to make sure everything in the lab is working as it should be. Ignore me.”

Peter wanted to tell you that he could never ignore you but didn’t want to freak you out with his desperation, so he tried to tell an anecdote instead.

“You know, at my last routine checkup, my doctor said that my prostate actually-“

“Don’t finish that sentence.” You pointed at him as you cut him off again.

“You’re right. Good call.” He nodded and stayed silent. You gave him a tight smile before continuing to walk around the room and check things off. Peter watched you and had a millions things he wanted to say but none of them seemed cool enough to impress you.

“So is everything up to par?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Par?” You asked in confusion.

“Oh. I didn’t know you were gonna ask what that meant. I just know it’s a phrase people use. I think it’s a golf term? But it might be a volleyball term.”

“Right. Well, everything looks good.” You said and put your clipboard down on the lab table. That’s when Peters dinosaur patterned lunchbox caught your eye.

“Except for this. Is this yours?” You asked and held the lunchbox up.

“No. I’ve never seen that. Someone else must’ve left it.” Peter lied.

“The label has your name and grade written on it. And the grade just says “college”.” You pointed out and turned the lunchbox to show him.

“Someone must’ve have written that as a joke.” He mumbled and looked down.

“Hm. Well someone packed you baby carrots and hummus. Probably also as a joke.” You humored him and Peter looked up in surprise. He never saw you as anything but serious but that almost seemed like a joke.

“Yeah. Probably.” He smiled. You looked at each other for a moment and he felt the overwhelming urge to just admit how he felt about you.

“So, uh, I don’t know if you like to eat dinner or anything but-“

Peter was cut off by a loud alarm ringing through the entire building. You immediately tensed up and looked around as the lights flashed red.

“What’s that?” You asked and moved closer to Peter.

“I don’t know. It’s either the earthquake alarm or the tornado alarm.” Peter answered. Just then, the ground began to shake and your clipboard flew off the table. You looked at Peter with wide, fear filled eyes and moved to where he was.

“Definitely earthquake. Get down.” Peter instructed and ducked under the table. Once on the ground, he shot a web at each of the machines in the lab to keep them in place. You scooted beside Peter and held yourself tightly as your entire body shook with anxiety.

“What do we do?” You asked him. He’d never heard you sound so vulnerable so he put his own fear aside to be there for you.

“We’re gonna stay under the table and draw our knees in so that nothing falls and hurts us.” Peter calmly explained. You nodded many times and wrapped your arms around your knees.

“Okay.” You voice shook as you answered him.

“It’s gonna be okay. This will be over soon.” he assured you as the earth continued to shake.

“Have you ever been in an earthquake before?” You asked him.

“No. But I hear they’re not actually that bad.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“From the little voice inside my head that tells me every night that it wasn’t that embarrassing when I called the teacher “mom” that one time.” He weakly joked. You actually laughed for a second but went right back to being scared.

“That’s so embarrassing. You don’t even have a mom.” You laughed nervously. Peter had never told you that and wondered if that meant you had asked your dad about him.

“I know. And it actually happened multiple times.” He admitted.

“What? How? Wouldn’t the embarrassment of the first time make you hyper-vigilant of what you were saying so you never did it again?”

“Shh. The earth is shaking.” He said and waved his hand. You started to laugh until something fell off the table and you screamed.

“Shhh. We’re okay. You’re okay. I’m right here.” Peter said and wrapped his arm around you. He thought it might be too much but you immediately wrapped both arms around him and buried your face in his chest. He blinked in surprise before holding you tightly and keeping you as close as possible. Parts of the ceilings and things from the tables fell down and crashed onto the floor, leaving you screaming and shaking with fear each time.

“AHHH!” You screamed. “Something cold and wet just touched me.”

“It’s okay. It’s just my baby carrots.” Peter said and caught a few of the falling carrots.

“Peter.” You whined when you heard him eating them.

“I hope it knocks my hummus down too. Come on, earth. Shake my hummus onto the floor.” Peter called out.

“This isn’t funny.” You said just as Peter hummus fell in front of you.

“Holy shit.”Peter whispered. “Do you think I’m a witch?”

Before you could answer, an overheard light came crashing down in front of you and smashed against the floor, sending sparks flying everywhere. You screamed again and clung so tightly to Peter he thought he might bruise.

“Are you okay?” He whispered into your ear as he rubbed your back.

“No. The earth is spitting in half right now and we are im a very high floor of a very high tower.” You answered and he realized you were crying.

“Well when you put it like that….” He mumbled.

“I don’t know what to do.” You whimpered. “I don’t know how to get us out of here.”

“That’s okay. I don’t know what to do either. The only earthquake training I can remember is to tell someone you trust.”

“That’s not for earthquakes. And it’s different for me. I always know what to do. That’s my job.”

“Right now your job is don’t get squished.” Peter told you.

“You don’t understand. Knowing what to do the only thing I’m good at.”

“That’s not true. You’re so good at…” Peter trailed off when he realized he didn’t have any examples to give you off the top of his head.

“To be fair, I don’t really know you that well.” He said after a beat of silence.

“You’ve known me since you were 15.” You reminded him. You had pulled your head off of his chest to look him in the eyes but neither of you let go of the other.

“I know. But you’re kinda…” He trailed off again and shrugged his shoulders.

“Mean?” You said with a sad smile.

“No, no, no.” He quickly assured you. “I wasn’t gonna say mean.”

“But I am. I didn’t even say hi to you when I walked in. I never say hi to you. You’re always so nice to me and I’m always acting like I’m too cool to be nice back. I don’t know why I do that. I don’t mean it.”

“Hey, I never thought you were mean. I always thought of you as the cool, collected, stoic daughter of my boss.”

“I really thought the last word was gonna be another “c” word but you said stoic instead.” You laughed half heartedly.

“I know. I wanted to complete the trio but the only “c” word I could think of was conglomerate.” Peter admitted. You looked at him curiously and he turned red with embarrassment.

“It’s a type of rock.” He said quietly.

“Cumulonimbus.” You replied, making him smile.

“Constable.” He said back.

“Cassiopeia.”

“That too. Thats a lot of “c” words. And we didn’t even say the naughty one. We make a good team.” Peter said with a soft smile. You smiled back and realized you had never been this close to him before this moment. Your smile faded and you gulped.

“Peter, I’m really scared.” You admitted. He nodded his head and rubbed your back up and down. You had your arms around his neck and he had his around your shoulder and waist to keep you as close as possible.

“Well, don’t be. This will all be over soon and we can leave. Everything will be fine.” He assured you.

“What if it’s not? We don’t even know what’s happening outside of this room. My dad could be…” You trailed off and your eyes filled with fear again.

“Hey, it’s okay. Your dad built a metal suit when he was trapped in a cave. The earth shaking a little is not gonna stop that man. I’ve seen him swallow Tylenol with no water.”

“Thank you.” You smiled softly as a tear rolled down your face.

“For what?”

“Distracting me.”

“Oh, well, you’re welcome. And, I don’t know, it’s kinda nice.”

“What is?” You wondered.

“Talking to you. We never really get to do that.” Peter pointed out.

“Yeah. Maybe after this, we could-“

You were cut off but another light exploding and showering the room with sparks. You let out a scream and buried your face in Peter’s neck again as he wrapped his arms around you to shield you from the sparks.

“It’s okay. I got you.” He said into your ear.

“Peter, I don’t want to die.” You cried into his shirt.

“You’re not gonna die. I’m not gonna let that happen.”

“But-“

“Shhh. I would never let anything hurt you, okay? I have you. No matter what else you have in your head, I am with you and I am not going anywhere. You are going to be just fine. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” Peter assured you as he cupped your face to make you look into his eyes. Once you processed what he had said, you pulled him by the shirt into a kiss. Peter’s eyes flew open but he quickly got over his initial shock and deepened the kiss. The room was crumbling around you but neither of you paid it any mind. You tangled your hands in his hair as you kissed him and he did the same to you. It didn’t feel like a first kiss. It felt comfortable and familiar and warm. By the time you pulled away to get some air, the earthquake had stopped.

“It stopped.” You realized.

“I love you too.” He said breathlessly.

“What?” You asked when you realized he had said something.

“I said we should get out of here and make sure everyone’s okay.” Peter quickly lied.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” You nodded and got off the floor. You helped Peter up before surveying the damage. The machines were okay but there were chunks of rubble and debris everywhere. Peter moved things out of the way with ease and never let go of your hand as he lead you out of the lab. He kept you close to his side as the two of you made your way to the living room. That’s where you found your dad and a few other team members.

“Oh, thank God you’re okay.” Tony said and let out a relieved sigh.

“I’m okay, daddy. Peter was there-“

Tony ran past you and grabbed his People’s Choice Award out of the rubble and gave it a kiss. You sighed and rolled your eyes until he noticed that everyone was looking at him.

“What? This are harder to win than an Oscar. They give those to any old hag.” Tony said in defense.

“I’m okay too, dad.” You said sarcastically.

“Oh yes. My precious angel princess baby. Are you okay?” Tony asked as he went over to give you a hug. You hugged him back for a while as Peter hung back and watched with a soft smile. You let go of Tony and wrapped your hand around Peter’s arm.

“We’re okay.” You answered.

“We?” Tony raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. It would have been really bad for me if Peter wasn’t there. I had no idea what to do. But he pulled me under a table and kept me calm.”

“Peter did?” Tony laughed in surprise. “I’ve seen Peter scream at his own fart.”

“Hey, that was one time and I wasn’t expecting it to make a noise and I especially didn’t think it would echo like that.” Peter said in defense.

“Well I’m really grateful he was with me.” You told your dad.

“Wow. Thanks for not letting my daughter get squished, kid. I owe you one.” Tony said and proudly patted Peter on the back.

“Anytime.” Peter smiled weakly.

“Well, now that we know the most important people in the tower and possibly all of New York are okay, you should go see your aunt. She probably wants to know if you’re dead or alive right now. I mean, unless she doesn’t really care.” Tony shrugged. You made eye contact with Peter and gave him a sad smile. He nodded his head and understood what you mean, you didn’t want him to go so that you could talk about what had happed, but you couldn’t admit what happened in front of your dad.

“Right. I should go see her.” Peter said without taking his eyes off you. You kept your eyes on him as he left the building and wrapped your arms around once he was gone.

Peter had never gotten your number despite the years you had known each other but he was desperate to talk to you. The kiss was the only thing on his mind for days and it got to the point where he could no longer sleep. Tony was busy with construction to repair the damages from the earthquake so Peter couldn’t go over to see you. But to his surprise, he was sitting in his bed one day watching TV on his laptop when you appeared in his doorway.

“Hey. Your aunt let me in. And your doorman was reading a Highlights magazine so I don’t think he even saw me enter the building, so.” You said as you leaned against his wall. Peter quickly threw the covers off of himself and set his laptop down.

“Oh, hey. Come on in. I wasn’t touching my private parts or anything.” He said and immediately regretted it.

“Oh, I didn’t think you were.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Well I just didn’t want you to think that because my hands were hidden under the covers.” He tried to explain himself but there was no coming back from that.

“I wasn’t thinking that but now that you mention it I kinda think that is what you were doing.” You said out of the corner of your mouth.

“Psh. I wasn’t.” He scoffed and pushed his laptop away.

“Show me your laptop then.” You shrugged. Peter turned red and he handed him laptop over to you.

“Oh. The episode of Glee where they all switch characters. Nice.” You nodded when you saw what was last opened on his screen.

“Thank you.” He said sincerely.

“Weird thing to jack off too, though.” You shrugged as you sat down on his bed.

“No, I wasn’t-“ Peter quickly tried to explain himself until he realized you were just joking. He smiled shyly and shut the laptop to give you his full attention.

“So, I wanted to talk about the other day.” You began.

“The other day? Could you be more specific? I’ve been alive for a long time.” Peter played dumb and scratched his head.

“The day when there was an earthquake. And we kissed. And you peed your pants.”

“That pee was there when we got to the lab. I just happened to sit it in.” Peter insisted.

“Right.” You chuckled. “I wanted to talk about the kiss though. If that’s okay.”

There was a long, long pause between the two of you and Peter contemplated his next move. The kiss was all he was able to think about since it happened but he didn’t want to make it seem like he was desperate. You were staring into his eyes, hopeful for a certain response, but he was too stupid to give the right one.

“What kiss?” He said finally.

“Okay. This was a mistake. I’m gonna go.” You sighed and got off his bed.

“Wait.” Peter caught your hand and pulled you back towards him.

“Is that your jacking off hand?” You asked and pulled away from him.

“No. I wasn’t - never mind.” He whined. “My hands are clean. Just sit down.”

You rolled your eyes a little but sat back down on his bed.

“I also wanted to talk about the kiss. I’m just extremely nervous and constantly uncomfortable.” He admitted to you.

“I mean, same. So let’s make this as quick and painless as possible. All I wanted to say is that I think we should keep it between us. The kiss, I mean. We shouldn’t tell anyone.” You said and Peters world crumbled down.

“Oh.” He squeaked out. He was disappointed but you had an unreadable look on your face so he decided to play it neutral.

“So I should cancel the little banner and sea plane I hired to fly over the tower to announce our kiss to the pedestrians below?” He asked, making you smile in relief.

“Yes. I would appreciate that.” You chuckled.

“Will do.”

“Cool. So let’s just agree to keep this our secret.” You repeated and he nodded while avoiding eye contact with you. You stared at him for a minute and felt guilty for making him upset. You decided that he deserved to know the truth about that day.

“But, uh, that’s not the only reason I came over. I had a lot of things I wanted to say to you the day of the earthquake but with everything going on I wasn’t able to get you alone.” You continued, making Peter’s hope come back.

“Oh? What did you have to say?” He asked. You took a deep breath before looking into his eyes.

“Peter, when I kissed you-“

Just then, Ned came into Peter’s room for the planned hangout that Peter had entirely forgotten about. Your sentence stopped abruptly and Peter sighed in frustration.

“Hey Peter. I think your doorman is in diabetic shock again. I just walked right by him and he didn’t even move.” Ned said.

“We kissed during the earthquake.” Peter blurted and you threw your hands up in exasperation.

“Why would you say that? I just said we’re not telling anyone.”

“I’m sorry! He’s my best friend.” Peter explained before covering his mouth with his hand to keep from blurting anything else.

“No way. You guys kissed? So does that mean you’re like together now or no?” Ned asked and touched his two pointer fingers together.

“Well, we haven’t really talked about-“ You began.

“No. We’re not together.” Peter said with a tight smile.

“Got it. Friends with benefits. Nice.” Ned nodded.

“What? No. We’re not that either.” Peter laughed in embarrassment as his face turned red.

“Yeah, no one said anything about that. We’re barely even friends.” You added.

“Barely even friends but you made out? While the earth was shaking? What would Greta Thunberg say?” Ned asked and put his hands on his hips.

“It wasn’t making out, really.” You lied. “It was like a tiny little peck on the lips. It was nothing. Right, Peter?”

“Oh, yeah. Thats so right. We barely even kissed.” Peter added to your lie as he wondered why you were downplaying it so much.

“Excatly. It was no big deal. We were both just scared and panicked so we kissed a little bit. It happens. But it didn’t mean anything.” You replied, making Peter freeze. He had spent so long thinking about the kiss only for you to say to his face that it meant nothing.

“Yeah. It meant nothing.” He said and looked down at his lap. You picked up on the sadness in his voice and looked over at him.

“Right.” You said weakly.

“Less than nothing.” Peter added and rubbed the back of his neck. You sighed and realized you had absolutely messed that up.

“I don’t know. I was really scared too but I did not try to french the lady I was hiding with in the TJ Maxx I was in.” Ned replied.

“You went to TJ Maxx without me?” Peter gasped.

“You know I’m a bigger maxxonista than you are. I can’t stay away.” Ned whispered harshly.

“The earth was crumbling. You could have died there.” You pointed out.

“There’s no place I’d rather spend my final moments in.” Ned shrugged.

“Anyways.” You interrupted. “I should get going. Uh, thanks, Peter. For what we talked about.”

“Yeah. No problem.” Peter smiled sadly.

“So what exactly did you guys talk about?” Ned asked suspiciously.

“Nothing. She just needed help with the Wordle.” Peter lied and you smiled in appreciation at him.

“And she came all the way here to ask? Damn, girl. How hot was that kiss? I’m genuinely asking. I’ve always said Peter and I should kiss just to know what the other is working with but he always says no.” Ned told you.

“You know what? I think you guys should do it. It’ll bring you closer as friends.” You told them.

“See, Peter? She gets it. Now pucker up.” Ned said and closed his eyes as he leaned in.

“No. I’m not kissing you. Not with those chapped lips.” Peter backed up. Ned gasped and touched his fingertips to his lips.

“Okay. Well, bye guys.” You smiled awkwardly and got off Peter’s bed. You were about to leave when Ned spoke up again.

“What was it?” He asked you.

“What?” You asked.

“The Wordle. I really want to get it right on the first try just once and really impress the people at The New York Times.” Ned explained.

“Oh, uh…” You trailed off and looked to Peter for help.

“Heavy.” Peter said quickly.

“Right. It was “heavy”. Now you know. So I’m gonna head out. Bye, Peter.” You waved to him.

“Bye.” He waved and felt that same sadness from the day of the kiss return.

“Bye, Ned.”

“Bye, sweetie.” Ned gave you a big smile before you left the room.

“You dirty fucking liar.” Ned said once you were gone.

“What?”

“That’s not today’s Wordle. That was days ago. You lied. What are you hiding?” Ned asked.

“Nothing. She was just asking me not to tell anyone about the kiss.”

“If it was no big deal then why would she care?”

“Because it was a big deal!” Peter admitted. “It was the hugest deal. She had her hands all up in my hair and I had my hands all up in her sweater but over her undershirt because I’m a gentleman. We were going at it so hard, we didn’t even notice the earthquake stopped.”

“Oh my God.” Ned gasped. “That stuff never happens at TJ Maxx.”

“I know!” Peter jumped in excitement.

“You have to tell me everything. Who kissed who?”

“She kissed me. And unbuttoned three of my shirt buttons.” Peter said and held up three fingers.

“Woah. Three? Isn’t that moving kinda fast?”

“I don’t care. It was the greatest moment of my life. But I also thought it was gonna be the last moment of my life so I don’t know if that had any impact.”

“I doubt it.” Ned shrugged. “But what happens now?”

“I don’t know. We were talking about it but then you came in so we never got to finish. And I thought we were both into it but then she said all that stuff about it not being a big deal so now I don’t know where we stand. What do I do?”

“You need to finish the conversation. If you don’t, this kiss will just be a one time thing and you’ll never know what it meant to her or what it could have become. You need to find out how she felt about it before too much time passes.”

“I don’t know. What if she doesn’t want to talk about it because she’s embarrassed that it happened? Maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to tell anyone.”

“Or maybe she faked the earthquake just to kiss you.” Ned suggested.

“That’s probably it, yeah.” Peter said sarcastically.

“Whatever the reason is, you need to talk to her. And soon.”

“You’re right.” Peter nodded and a silence feel between the boys as Peter thought everything over.

“Should we go to TJ Maxx?” Ned asked after a beat of silence.

“Well, yes.”

Peter didn’t hear from you for a while after that. He wasn’t allowed back at the tower until the reconstruction was complete so he couldn’t even go see you. He still wasn’t sleeping because now he couldn’t stop wondering about your last conversation. Not only had you downplayed the kiss, you also asked Peter not to tell anyone. That left him thinking that you regretted it and it didn’t mean anything to you despite how much it meant to Peter. After two weeks of hearing nothing, Peter got a text from Tony that the tower was open again and he could come back. Peter went over right away to see what Tony had done with the place and much to his surprise, you were there too.

“Oh. Hi.” You blinked in surprise when Peter walked into the main room of the tower.

“Hey.” Peter nodded curtly. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

“Neither was I. Dad? I thought we weren’t letting anyone in until all your Kids Choice awards were back-“

“I never said that.” Tony cut you off. “Never, ever said that. I invited Peter over to thank him for saving all my precious technology. Those webs were the only thing that kept all my billion dollar machines from smashing into tiny little expensive pieces.”

“It was no problem, sir. It’s my job to protect what’s yours.” Peter said without taking his eyes off you. You felt your face heat up and looked down.

“Okay. Weird way to phrase that.” Tony commented. “I also wanted to invite you to dinner tonight. The dining room is fully remodeled and I was gonna have family dinner tonight with all my girls. And you’re my honorary girl so I thought I’d invite you as well. What do you say, kid?”

“Oh, I don’t think he wants to do that.” You said and looked at Peter. He was thinking the same thing; if he came over for dinner, there was a 99% chance the news of the kiss would slip out and Tony would reign hell fire onto Peter.

“Yeah, that’s okay. I appreciate the invitation but my aunt is already cooking something.”

“Oh God. Your aunt is cooking? Then you simply have to come over. I’ve tasted her food. No one should be subjected to that. You’ve been through enough. Please, eat here.” Tony insisted. Peter looked to you for help and you shrugged in defeat.

“Okay. Sure. Thanks. I’ll eat dinner with your daughters and wife. Nothing weird is going to happen if I do that.” Peter nodded stiffly.

“Again, weird way to phrase that. But I’ll see you at 7. Sound good?” Tony asked. Peter looked at you again and you nodded your head.

“Yeah.” Peter sighed. “Sounds good.”

Part two

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

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@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

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[littlemissmaples]

What does your Future Spouse look like?

Pile One: Flowers

Whether your FS is male or female, I'm getting the impression that they have some similarities to Chapelle Roan, or simply just listen to her. I’ve already written everything I need for this reading, I’m just going back and polishing it, so I would like to take the time now to say that there are three consistent themes within this reading that appeared within this reading for me.

1. Your FS likely resembles a celebrity in some way (you’ve probably read another one of my PAC’s before and you fell under the pile where I talked about Zendaya and Tom Holland)

2. Your imagine of your FS isn’t entirely what you think. There is something here that is a little different than what you image or expected.

and 

3. Some of you are Queer and want your FS to be a woman. (For some of you though, you could be straight but just don’t mind if your FS happens to be queer or a woman who has many partners before. Some of you are looking for a dominant woman lmao. You’ll have it, haha.)

Anyways, if that sounds like you, welcome, welcome, let’s get onto your reading!

If your FS identifies as a woman, there’s a strong chance she has a similar look or vocal tone to Chapelle Roan, this hasn’t leaved me as I typed, although I’m getting that she probably doesn’t sings much, if at all, although she may just have that striking tone to her voice and appearance as a whole. She may also be a theater kid or have more of a theater-kid vibe about her, although this may just be you more than her. There are some parallels between the two of you (I’m also getting red lips, take it if that resonates, drop if not.) they may have a lot of similarities to you if not in appearance than interest. (I’m getting Hamilton and 21 Chump Street for some of you, maybe she likes musicals.) As I mentioned before there is a bit of a queer energy here, although don’t worry if you’re not, i’ll get to those of you who’s partner is likely male in a minute, but I digress. If you’re looking for a woman, I’m getting you’re looking for one who’s not only queer but also has a bit of that femme-fatale, Joan-of-Arc kind of vibe to her, like she’s a mix of princess and knight with a Renaissance-like appearance. I’m getting she definitely has that. Although for some of you this is likely a “Dream” and you’re being asked to be a little bit more “realistic” about your FS, no that they don’t exist or you the way you imagine but some of you imagine this warrior of a woman with big bright red flowy hair, something like maxie from Under the Oak Tree maybe, (but less shy) when in reality, her hair may be more of a brown-ish red rather than that bright almost blonde-ish ginger red you would see in like a movie or something, or perhaps more of a dyed color red. I feel like for some of you your FS may not even have red hair but just have dark wavy brown hair and freckles and while they will be outspoken they’re likely a little bit more introverted than you expected, but this doesn’t mean she’ll be any less fun or into the kind of stuff you’re into, i’m getting this is somewhat of my kinky pile and some of you are looking for a dominant woman, you’ll have it, you’ll have it, but don’t reduce her to only that, okay, haha. <3

If your FS identities as male, I sense a mix of patience and a bit of impatience from you lmao, you’re sick and tired of waiting both for me to get to describing your FS and also you’re sick of waiting for him to show up, but I’m getting there’s this back-and-forth inside you of what you want your FS to look like vs what they’ll most likely look like. (I know what my next PAC is gonna be about now lol.) Look, my love, your FS might not match the exact picture in your mind. 

And that’s okay. I’m literally getting the image of a slightly sun-kissed, blonde-haired, bright-eyed, “golden retriever” type of boyfriend who could be a book lover and surfer who hangs out at the beach often and is a fond of marine life and what not, the “perfect” guy with a chiseled jaw and bright gorgeous brown eyes that make you melt under the sun. Thiiiis is not him lmao, but this does not mean this is “not” him. What do I mean by this.

Much like I told you, or the other side of Pile one if you skipped the first half. Your FS has some qualities about them that are different from what you expected. I get the sense that you’re afraid he’s not going to be your type and that you’re not going to be attracted and perhaps you try hard to let go of this and tell yourself that you’re okay with “any” type no matter how he looks like, but sugar, 1. It’s okay to have a type but 2. It’s okay to allow yourself to be okay to like someone outside of your type. You need to be a little bit more kind to your mind and understand that you have no idea what this guy looks like, perhaps you have very high standards or maybe even a light prejudice that holds you back from imagine him to look like anything except what you imagine him like, I’m not here to judge you but you need to understand that if you want to grow past this, healing does not come from judgment, you can’t grow and shame yourself all at once. If you’re judging yourself, ask yourself why, sit with that thought or feeling and see what it wants and why is it there, do whatever you need for yourself in that moment and then let it pass by and evolve. You’ll be just fine <3 But back to your FS, your FS is a criminally attractive. You might not notice it at first because they don’t look how you imagined in your head, but once you give them the space they need to shine in front of you, oh man you’re never coming back.

I’m getting some of you are looking for more of a “Golden Retriever” type boyfriend but you’re likely to end up with more of a “Black Cat” kind of personality. They might actually be Black, like African American (I’m getting some of you are African yourselves, perhaps you’re from West Africa, you might be the same ethnicity but don’t worry this man will NOOOOOT look like your father lmao) or if they’re a woman, they may have more “Cat-Like” eyes and be a little quieter and have sharper more model like features than what you expected, think Nara Smith but with more of a bolder, Alt style/personality. Anyways, your FS is hard for me to describe because of this very reason, whenever I go to say something about them, your energy comes in with a panic “NO!” you say, hahaha. For some of you, you have NOTHING to worry about and they look EXAAAACTLY what you imagine them to look like, but maybe with one tiny, itty, bitty difference like maybe they longer lashes than you expected or they have a beauty mark on their face. But for others, they look like how you imaged but 1 key treat is just the opposite. If they’re male I get the sense, you’re looking for someone whos has softer feature or maybe they’re “beautiful” in an almost feminine sense, your FS will likely be likely be like this.  I feel like this is a very beautiful guy or maybe this is just your rose colored glasses trying to paint him like that again, haha, guys, please, I promise he’s beautiful, he’s very pretty but I get the sense some of you are attaching an almost unrealistic standard to how he’s gonna look like. You’re really indecisive here arent you? I keep repeating myself in this reading, it’s wild. But I promise I get it, it ain’t your fault. But do know that your FS DOES looks like a celebrity of some sort, if it’s not someone you recognie then maybe they just have the appearance of someone who would do good under the public eye, someone who’s very aesthetic and dresses well. But do keep the whole “1 opposite trait thing.”

If you expect them to look feminine, they’ll likely be masculine with feminine features.

If you expect them to be be silent and reserved, they’ll likely be calm but very sociable.

If you expect them to be tough and a lonewolf, they’ll likely be warm hearted but stern in a way.

I’ve been all over the place with this reading, let’s focus solely on their appearance.

If female she may look like Nara Smith or Chapelle Roan, If male a celebrity isn’t coming into mind (instagram model for some) but whatever image of a person, celebrity or not it is that you have in mind is the “Base” of their appearance BUT, find a trait, whatever it is that sticks out to you the most and switch it for something else. If her hair’s short, it’s likely rather long. If she’s Tall in your head, she’s probably a littler short. If he’s thin and a bit more on the delicate side, imagine him to be lean in his built or with a slightly rugged edge. Brown or “Reddish” Brown eyes for them.

That’s all for now, haha, as wild of a ride as this was, I had fun, I hope this reading brought you something.

I hope to see you again babes!!

Pile Two: Bicycle

Wow.. I don’t know how to describe your FS to you, I suddenly got this overwhelming sense of peace over me. I was just listening to United In Grief by Kendrick Lamar and now my phone’s Playing Blue Dream which honestly tells me so much about them. I feel like this person is just, honestly, a dream, I want to say they’re so pretty, but honestly calling them a beauty would be almost an understatement. They could be very spiritual, I’m struggling to pick up if they’re male or female, they may be non-binary and Identify as they/them or they may just be somewhat genderfluid. If they’re a woman, they have some “masculine” features to them, perhaps thicker eyebrows and wider shoulders, but honestly these features of their just make them appear even more mystical and more elegant. They can have very clear skin. If they’re male they might have some more “feminine” features about them, like soft beautiful lashes or a little beauty mark under the eye like that of a 1920’s actress. This person makes me think of incense, perhaps they meditate often or light some nice incense around the house, they really have this lovely earthy-spiritual vibe about them. If they’re black they may be light skin with soft curls, though for some of you it’s a tighter curl pattern, for others of you this person is simply foreign she could be south african if a woman and kind of resemble someone like Tyla, if male their ethnicity could genuinely be anything, though I’m getting they’re likely very mixed, they really give me Jhene Aiko vibes which makes sense given how she’s Black, Japanese, Dominican and something else I believe??? Correct me if I’m wrong. Overall this man is a beauty, I’m not sure why the Movie Millenium Actress by Satoshi Kon is coming into mind, but like the main character he could have a very calm, yet determined demeanor to him, I’m getting he’s been patiently searching for love for a very long time, much like her, a love that he’s not sure he’ll ever come to cross but he’s possible he’ll find one day. Gosh I can’t wait for you guys to meet. 

Alright let’s continue talking about appearance, they may have a “sleepiness” to their eyes and a sweetness to their smile that’s very calming, they might wear very flowy clothing or comfortable loose fitting clothes. I want to say street wear but honestly it’s a little more modest than regular street wear, this is only for a few of you but they may be muslim. Even if they aren’t they’re very stylish but they have a uniqueness to their appearance you wouldn’t expect to find anywhere else, it’s like a mix of modern and ancient. Like Imagine mixing punk with decora but still somehow making it work. I get the sense your future spouse might either be experimenting with their style or simply not have singular style and likes to try out different clothes. 

This is also something not appearance related, but they may not talk much, they’re likely more a of a listener, they’ll likely like to hear you talk more, although I’m getting the sense you won’t be able to do much talking around them when they’re admiring you lovingly with those deep inquisitive eyes of their, haha. Honestly, being with this person is just going to bring you such a sense of peace and I get when they do open their mouth it’s always going to be the silliest thing that makes you laugh or something that’s thought provoking and inspires soul-searching. I recommend you listen to Blue Dream by Jhene Aiko, their energy to me feels so similar to this. I keep finding myself saying “What a Dream! What a Dream!” this could be you, or them although I get that you’ve never been with a person like this, I get that you might not expect to fall for them as hard as you did, but just know that when they met you, god, they knew it’d be no one else but you from that very moment <3

That is all my dove!

I hope to see you again, my dream!! (This could also be a nickname they might have for you or you for them now that I think of it <3)

P.S

Snoop Dogg keeps coming into my head during this reading, Idk why lol, it’s possible they may be very silly and good hearted or just have ADHD or be Neuro-Divergent in some way lmao.

Pile Three: Tabby Kitten

Pile one and two both had people who’s future spouse’s were likely Female, I’m sorry to say that if you’ve selected this pile expecting a woman, this is likely not for you. Wow, this person is MASCULINE like H.E.L.L honestly, they’re almost influencing the way I write, it’s very hard lmao to type casually like I do, but they’re very forward in the way that they talk. I feel like you likely know this person, I wouldn’t say this is an ex or perhaps someone that you’ve had a situationship with. I feel like they have a lot to say to you, I’m getting someone who’s more on the “Rough and Roudy” side, I almost don’t want to give physical descriptions, they’re someone who likes to banter a bit or sometimes be a little bit of a tease. They’re a lot to handle, maybe a bit intense but I don’t get that they’re toxic. This is for a few of you but he gives me “Booktok” vibes lmao, he might have tattoos. Is this guy real? Lmao??

I want today this guy doesn’t exist and I just got sma-OH SHIT!! WAAAAIT I GET IT. LMAOO.

Oh my gosh girl!! It’s not that he doesn’t exist, it’s that Y O U think he doesn’t exist!! This guy that you describe as your “boyfriend” could be like a mix of several book-boyfriends, he’s every troupe that you like but with a healthy-mindset-not-actually-toxic-and-wont-hurt-you-maybe-others-but-never-you vibe. BIIITTTCH AAAHH, oh my gosh, I feel like we’re at a sleep over and I’m geeking out with you. I get the sense that maybe you’ll be hanging out with friends and when you finally show them a picture of him they’ll all be screaming with you like I am. I really want to say this person is not real, but Jesus fuck, you’ve manifested this so hard I get the sense that this man actually does exist, like maybe you’re into super natural and your favorite character was Dean, he may look somewhat like Dean but with Tattoos and black hair and drives a motorcycle. Do you watch Doctor Who?? Are you a 90s kid or do you just like the aesthetic because I feel like I’m time traveling, maybe Dean isnt exactly your type but you’re more into a slender, pretty guy aesthetic who have piercings and isnt afraid to paint their hair and wear dark clothes. Lmao, I have no idea where this is going but sis I get that this person really exists, I’m not getting any opportunities to say no even as a joke. 

The only thing is though that there are two of you here, for some of you, you really want the bad boy boyfriend of your dreams and you’ll get him exactly and you imagine him! But for others of you this – OK, idk wtf I just pressed but my computer like glitched almost and I deleted half of everything I wrote before pressing Ctrl + Z to bring it all back. KEEP THIS MINDSET THAT YOU HAVE AND DO NOT CHANGE IT BECAUSE BABYGIRL YOU’RE ALMOST THERE!! The only warning I am getting is to NEVER settle for less, because for a lot of you, you might fall victim to depressive energies and wanting to heal someone else and trap yourself in toxic relationships with shitty guys who use rock music and punk aesthetic and “nonchalantness” as an excuse to be dickheads to their partners and the people they’re supposed to love. NEVER settle for less, you paved the way, maybe some of you have been in past toxic relationships already LET THIS GO and never fall behind again, pick yourself back up Queen (or King or Your Majesty if you’re male or a they/them <3) and PUSH!! PUSH FORWARD YOU GOT THIS!!

And finally some of you don’t give a damn about no future spouse or tarot stuff but you just wanted to pick a pile and read something for fun haha. For others of you your spouse themselves may be reading this together with you in the same room, haha, I’m rooting for you!

Anyways, whomever you are, I hope you get the experience of your dream with this person and that they treat you like absolute royalty, don’t always remember this, that you don’t need to be reminded by someone else that you’re worth treating correctly, you are and have always been special, you are and have always been worth loving <3

“See ya, princess <3” (they may call you this, that’s for a few of you)

I hope to see ya again soon!

[street-smarts00]

Complimentary Colors

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WC: 7.3K

Summary: After recently joining the team, you and Spencer could never get along. What started off as you two ignoring each other turned into bickering at work. What happens when a stressful moment for you turns into an opportunity to get to know this fascinating coworker of yours?

tags: enemies to lovers, fluff, brief mentions of crime/murder at the beginning (talking about cases/kidnapping), reader is shy and anxious, reader looks young for her age. (reader might be female but i don’t think i specified)

A/N: I haven’t written anything in years and I’ve been on a criminal minds kick for a while. I had this idea loosely based off a prompt I saw on cai by (ApolloTheBoykisser) so thanks babes ;) also for once I had a fic of mine beta read lol my bestie beta read this for me. This is also posted on my AO3 page.

You had been working at the BAU for the last few weeks. You tried to get to know most of your coworkers and it seemed like you were making great progress. You had heard a lot about the team before you joined and were pretty intimidated by them at first. Okay- you were still pretty intimidated by them. But you pushed through your quiet exterior little by little and slowly but surely tried to get to know them. 

All except for Spencer Reid. It seemed like he was trying to avoid you. He was always very quiet and would barely talk to you. Being a shy person yourself, you thought maybe he was just shy or a quiet guy. However, he continued to ignore you except for when he had to acknowledge you for work. 

His coldness towards you was increasingly annoying as time went on, and your perception of him had slowly warped. The things about him you once found endearing, you now forced yourself to hate about him. If he rambled for too long, it could potentially make your blood boil. However, you could never stop paying attention to when he rambled on about facts or statistics. You didn’t want to admit it, but you found him fascinating.

It didn’t take that long for him to start acknowledging you, but this soon turned into the two of you bickering like children. When you were discussing cases or profiles, you both would argue over motives, victimology, crime scenes- literally anything about the case- you two could turn it into an opportunity to contradict the other. You both still kept a level of professionalism to not let your rivalry affect your job. 

But there was always this tension between the two of you when you were in close quarters for too long. 

And at some point you both reached your boiling point. 

Last week, while the team was on a case, you and Spencer had gotten into a little spat once again. This time it went beyond the slight bickering or contraction. In the middle of the local precinct, you two were at each other's throats. 

“What was that?” You asked after you and Spencer left the interview room that held a victims family. 

“I was working off of the profile . . .” 

“You mean the profile we haven’t finished?” You interrupted. “The one we are still currently working on and have yet to disclose?” 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t work off of the information we already have,” he objected. 

“You told her information we are still unsure about. We don’t know for a fact how long he keeps them alive,” you accused while placing your hands on your hips, trying to conceal your frustration but failing.

“Guys.” Someone tried to tone things down. Neither of you heard who and you weren’t backing down.

“If I remember correctly, I heard you discussing this very subject and inputting your thoughts  . . .” 

“You still shouldn’t have told her! Especially when you don’t know for sure if her daughter could be alive,” you seethed stepping closer.

“Would you rather me hide everything from the mother who’s suffering from the disappearance of her daughter?” He asked, matching your tone and taking a step forward. 

“I didn’t say that!” 

“It sure sounded like it.” 

“Reid. Y/N.” The two of you turned your heads to your boss like two deer caught in headlights. 

“With me, now.” Hotch demanded and led you to an empty interview room. 

You could tell how angry he was- despite the fact that his stoic face represented almost every emotion in the book. But by the tone of his voice, you knew you and Spencer had messed up. 

“You two do not only represent this team, you represent the bureau. These cops are already not pleased with the idea of their boss calling us in and I do not need you arguing in front of them and giving them a reason to take us off this case. You must learn to respect and cooperate with one another or I will take you both off this case. Do I make myself clear?” He lectured. 

You both replied with a monotone “yes.”

“Good” 

Ever since your argument, you both had been relatively quiet towards one another. Like it had been in the beginning when you were ignoring each other. But that didn’t stop you from letting him invade your mind at every waking minute. It almost saddened you in a way there was no more bickering or quick remarks with him. With how much it annoyed you, you never thought you would miss it. 

The team had just finished a case and before everyone packed up and went home, Rossi announced that tomorrow everyone should come over for a little ‘get our minds off work’ get together. Your coworkers all thought it was a great idea to relax after the last few very stressful cases. 

As excited as you were to finally go to one of Rossi’s house parties, you were also scared shitless. Parties with relatively new people in your life were hard. You were so quiet around new people and were scared to approach others; you often waited to be approached. To you, being a profiler was easier than having a social life. 

But, maybe this time would be different. There’s not that many people on the team and you’d already started to familiarize yourself with them. 

The next day, you were pulling up to Rossi’s house. If there was anything else to be intimidated by with this man- besides his years of experience in the BAU- it was this giant house. You were greeted by the man himself at his front door. 

“Y/N, glad you could make it.” He opened the door and welcomed you in. 

He led you inside to where everyone else was gathered. Everyone was cheery at your arrival. Penelope with her clicky heels ran up to you and greeted you with a hug. It was refreshing to be around people who were so welcoming. It made it a little bit easier to really let your walls down. 

Well, almost everyone. Spencer gave you a small wave from where he stood. 

The night continued on and you would occasionally engage in conversation with the team. At this point, you were off to the side- standing in the kitchen and occasionally sipping some wine that Rossi had been bragging about and was just so excited for everyone to try. You were a bit too overwhelmed to go back to talking. The music was getting a bit loud and the lights seemed to be too bright. You opted for sitting on the barstool next to the counter and observing everyone around.  

They were all off in small groups or pairs around the house. All except for you and Spencer. He was another outlier and standing away from all the commotion. You looked over in his direction and he caught your eye. You both glared at each other and you quickly averted your gaze away from him. Your thoughts started to race and you began playing with your hair. 

After a moment, he glanced over in your direction again when you weren’t looking. He was unintentionally profiling you and noticed you getting overstimulated. Your eyes laser focused like you zoned out, your foot tapping against the chair, and your hand anxiously playing with your hair. 

While he wasn’t exactly your friend, he did understand what it felt like when social gatherings got overwhelming. He made his way over to you, careful not to make you more nervous or uncomfortable. 

“You okay?” He asked you. You were pulled away from spacing out. His voice sounded a bit concerned- which took you by surprise. You were partially relieved someone approached you to help bring you back down to earth. That someone noticed something was off. What confused you was the fact that person was Spencer. 

“I’m fine.”

He was well aware of what it meant when someone was “fine” and you were clearly not fine. He felt bad that you were so quick to shut down his attempt to check on you. After all, it was his fault and he knew that. 

“Do you wanna step outside?” He asked. 

You were conflicted. You didn’t want to be outside alone with him, but at the same time, you needed some time away from everything. Maybe it would help calm your nerves. 

“Maybe for a bit.” 

You followed him outside onto the back patio. You took note of the fresh air and the muffled sounds from inside. It all felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Pretty soon though, you realized how awkward it was to be outside alone with him. 

Spencer cleared his throat and spoke to break the silence, “Sometimes these parties can be . . . a lot.”

“A little bit. I was doing fine for a while but I think my social battery is running low.” You confessed to explain your discomfort. 

“Yeah” he replied. He appreciated the fact that you felt comfortable enough to express this with him. He tried to relate to you. “It’s the same with me. Sometimes I just need a moment to collect myself.” 

“Exactly.” You were relieved to hear that he felt the same way. “Plus it doesn’t help that I'm so new to the team.” You crossed your arms and slightly closed yourself off.

“I was the same way when I first joined.” He told her to try and ease your concerns. You were just like him at some point. The new guy and just trying to figure out how you fit in. 

“It’s difficult at first, but you settle down after a bit. Once you get to know everyone.” 

“Yeah it’s just the whole getting to know them part is a bit . . .” You abruptly stopped, hesitating to reveal too much to him.  

“A bit what?” 

“Intimidating,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes.

He obviously noticed your hesitance and avoided his usual behavior with you. You were always so strong and quick to banter with him. But now you seemed vulnerable, and he didn’t want to take advantage of that. 

“It’s not just you, I promise.” He was being honest. This was the calmest and most genuine conversation the two of you had ever had. “I find them all pretty intimidating.” 

Your eyebrows raised at his confession. How could he possibly be intimidated by these people?

“Really? But you’ve known them for so long. You all are so close.” 

“Close doesn’t mean you can’t be a little intimidated,” he replied. It might not make much sense, but it was the truth. 

“I mean Hotch is always stonewall and silent, no matter what you say to him. And don’t even get me started on Morgan.” He joked, knowing you would understand. 

You lightly chuckled at his joke. “I get what you mean.” You were starting to understand him more. You thought it was ironic that one of the team members you were first intimidated by was also intimidated by the team. Now he was starting to seem less intimidating or annoying and more approachable. You kinda liked seeing this new side of Spencer. 

“I guess I’ve always been like that. Worried to get to know people or open up.” You weren’t entirely sure why you were telling him this, but you knew he would understand. 

"I think when you're afraid of being hurt or judged or misunderstood by people, you try to keep your guard up." He told you, speaking from experience. From a young age until now, he's always felt misunderstood. 

"And I think...maybe that's why you're on edge with me? You're not sure what to expect from me."

“Are you profiling me?” You asked jokingly. Spencer however thought you were serious and you noticed him tense up. 

“I’m kidding.” Your expression softened to let him know you weren’t actually accusing him of profiling you. “I’m gonna be completely honest, I’ve been on edge with you cause I thought you didn’t like me.” 

He was a bit taken off guard by your statement. But at the same time, he couldn't deny it. He didn't dislike you now, but at first, he wasn't exactly fond of you. And now he was ashamed of that.

"I didn't like you." He admitted. "I thought you were pretentious, too eager to be accepted. I think I saw you as competition." 

Spencer’s comment did sting. It was never sunshine and rainbows to hear someone doesn't like you. However, you did take note of his language. He said “didn’t,” “thought” and “saw,” all past tense. Does this mean he doesn’t dislike you now? What you did appreciate was his reciprocated honesty. You both were making some progress in your relationship and you wanted to continue it. 

“I was eager to be accepted. I wanted to feel like I belonged.” 

“I know how you feel.” He expressed his sympathy. “I regret not giving you a chance. You’re not like I thought you were.” He also appreciated seeing this different side of you.

“You’re not like I thought you were.” You admitted. 

A little smirk tugs at his lips, “So I’m not as pretentious and selfish as you thought?” 

You lightly chucked, “I never thought you were selfish, but I did think you were a ‘know-it-all’ and trying to show off.” 

Spencer really didn’t want you to think he was a show off. Sure- he had a vast amount of knowledge, but he never wanted you to think he was bragging or that he knew better than you. “I do know a lot but I promise I’m not trying to show off. I just have all this information in my head and I want to share it with people or I’m really passionate about something and want to talk about it.” 

You understood that feeling all too well. There were so many times you wanted to ramble on about things you cared about or had knowledge on, but for the most part just stayed quiet. Meanwhile, he didn't keep quiet. He would go on and on. And while almost everyone else was either rolling their eyes or trying to shut him up, you were listening intently. You didn’t want to admit it back then, but now you were feeling up to it. 

“I will admit, while I did think of you as a know it all, I found a lot of your tangents interesting.” You admitted. 

His eyebrows raised in surprise. He was so used to people dismissing him. It was nice to hear you often would listen. “Really? You didn't mind me babbling on?" He asked, relieved with your response. 

"I mean, it is something I have trouble with. I tend to talk too much.” 

“Oh Dr. Reid I am very familiar with rambling and being worried about talking too much.” You paused for a moment- considering how much more you wanted to share with him. “I know it may not seem like it because I’m always quiet around the team but.. once I get comfortable around people, I actually get very rambly”

"You do?" He asked, sounding surprised. “About what?”  

“Really anything. Mostly things I’m passionate about like you. I’ll also tend to go on tangents about memories or just things happening in my life.” 

You made your way to a bench on the patio as you spoke. Spencer followed and sat down on a chair adjacent to you. You brought your attention back to him and noticed his focused gaze on you and he quickly licked his lips, a habit you noticed he did all the time.

"You really are a lot like me. You're just quieter at first." He added, teasing you a little. While he was not one for social cues, he had the sudden urge to be bold and make a joke. "Maybe next time I see you rambling, I won't immediately contradict you." 

You dramatically dropped your jaw and placed your hand over your heart. “Wow, you really know how to give a compliment,” you said, pretending to be offended. 

He laughed with a bright grin. "I'm sorry. Let me rephrase. The fact that you're so silent and reserved makes it that much more thrilling when I find out how much of a chatterbox you actually are." He joked, being playful as before.

Your cheeky smile slightly falters for a moment. You hoped he wouldn’t notice but he did. “I think you won’t be so thrilled once I actually turn into a chatterbox around you.”

"Actually I think I would find it intriguing." He told you, looking directly into your eyes. "The quiet ones tend to be the most interesting and complex when they do end up talking."

“I’m not that interesting.”

“I beg to differ. You’re very interesting. Probably the most interesting person on the team.” 

Did he really say that? Did he mean it? Or was he just being nice? You tried not to profile him, but couldn’t help it. His body language expressed he was being honest. Uncrossed legs and arms, open palms, eye contact. The only thing you didn’t notice when studying his body language was his dilated pupils. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at his compliment, “I doubt I’m the most interesting though. You maybe, Mr. Three PHDs and can read 20,000 words per minute.” 

He smiled back at you, “Just because I'm well educated doesn’t mean you can’t be as interesting as me, if not more.” 

You couldn’t believe he was saying such nice things to you. This was the first time you guys were actually making some kind of connection.. and it felt wonderful. 

“I still can’t believe we’ve known each other for this long but are just now talking. And by talking, I mean not getting into a spat after speaking for more than 3 minutes.” You confessed with a hint of playfulness in your voice at your joke. 

“Yeah, I feel like I barely know you.” 

“What would you like to know?” You asked. 

He thought for a moment trying to think of a question to ask. You noticed once again that he licked his lips, trying to concentrate. 

“Let’s start with something simple. What’s your favorite color?” He asked. 

“Wow, I think that’s a bit too personal.” You said, voice laced with sarcasm. You tried your hardest to contain your amusement but started to smile. He smiled back at you. At first, he was always confused with sarcasm and social cues. To be honest, he still was. But he could just tell with you. He knew when you were joking and when you were being serious. He found your sense of humor amusing. 

“Yellow.” You answered. “What’s yours?” 

“Purple.” He replied. 

You intended to leave it inside your head- but a quiet “huh” made it past your lips as an idea came into focus. 

“What? Is it my choice for my favorite color?” He tried to joke with you but was also a little bit serious. 

“Oh no, it's just I thought it was interesting because those are complementary colors. You know how they are opposite on the color wheel?” You asked even though you figured he knew. 

He nodded his head, “Yes! Because they are on opposite ends of the color wheel, when they’re used together it creates a vibrant contrast and enhances visual appeal. The two colors almost balance each other out and support each other's intensity. Complimentary colors are a key component to color theory.” He suddenly noticed how long he was talking and his posture stiffened. He pressed his lips into a thin line and avoided eye contact. “Told you I talk too much.”

“And I told you that I find your rambling interesting.” 

His head perked back up at you. You genuinely wanted to listen to him. It was refreshing to talk to someone that didn’t cut him off or zone out. 

“That’s kinda like us though, don’t you think?” 

“What’s like us?” He asked confused, still thinking about the fact that you actually enjoy listening to what he has to say. 

“How our favorite colors are complimentary colors. Like you said, they support each other's intensity. When you first see them they’re opposites, but the more you look the more they compliment each other.” 

He softly smiles. “That does sound like us. The more we learn about each other, the more we find we have in common.” 

There was a short pause where you both considered his statement. You did want to know more about him. You wanted to know all of him. 

“Can I ask you a question this time?” 

“Of course.” 

“So, you're always reading. Like everywhere you go, you carry a book with you. I wanna know: what’s a book you could read over and over again and never get tired of?” You wanted to know beyond his favorite color. You wanted to get to the various  building blocks that made him the way he was. 

Spencer considered your question for a moment. Trying to go through the near infinite list of books he’s read in his life. You could tell he was concentrating on his answer because licked his lips. “Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.” 

“Is he one of your favorite authors?” 

“Yes.” He said almost immediately, confident in his answer. 

“How come you like that book so much?” You asked.

You could see this sort of spark enter his eyes the more you asked about it. Giving him the chance to share his passions. ”Oliver Twist was one of the first books that used satire to deliver social commentary. Particularly in this book the social commentary was aimed at poverty in 19th century England. The book also quickly gained attention after its publication due to the scandalous subject matter in which crimes, such as murder, were depicted in detail.” 

Spencer finally stopped rambling and almost looked as if he caught his breath from the endless talking. But what he was met with was your undivided attention.

”That sounds really interesting, maybe one day I should give it a read.” You say with a soft smile.

“You should,” he matched your smile, but it seemed a bit more sheepish due to his brief tangent. “Have you ever read Charles Dickens before?”

You shook your head in response. “I’ve never read anything by him. I actually don’t read much. But I used to in high school.” You revealed. 

“What have you read?” He asked. He leaned slightly forward and unconsciously mirrored your body language and placed his right hand on his leg like you did yours.

“Pretty much the same books everyone else had to read for school.” You paused and tapped your fingers trying to refresh your memory.

“To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, 1984, um.. a few Shakespeare books.” You answered with the few books you could remember. 

“Which one did you like the most?” 

“I’m not sure”, you sighed and thought about his question, wanting to give him a genuine answer. “Maybe.. Macbeth. I remember finding the story interesting and I did a group project on Macbeth and Lady Macbeth's descent into madness. Like the scene where she’s hallucinating the blood on her hands.” 

Your voice started to pick up speed and volume ever so slightly. He could tell you were getting more passionate the more you spoke. Subtly displaying how you could ramble once you opened up to someone. He smiled as you continued, happy to see that you felt comfortable enough around him to let a hidden part of yourself out into the open. 

“I guess that kinda explains why I wanted to be a profiler and learn about psychology and forensics. I was interested in how Lady Macbeth's guilt manifested and caused her delusions. I wanted to understand why people did the things they did.”

“I can tell, you have this curiosity. You want to understand. Know the ‘why’. He mentally recalled the times you would express your curiosity during work. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” 

He pressed his lips in a line. “Is it- is it my turn to ask you something now?” He stuttered slightly. 

“I mean you don’t have to. It’s nobody’s ‘turn’ but you can if you want.” 

“I do.” He replied immediately. The corners of your mouth perked up into a small smile. He mirrored you.

“I may be stealing your previous question. Like you said you don’t read much. But I have noticed you listen to music a lot. I want to know a song you could listen to over and over again.” 

He was right, you often listen to music. Mostly on your way into work or on the jet, you would be wearing your signature headphones and have some playlist on. It was your own way of coping with the stress of your job. You looked down at the ground as you recalled the songs in your favorite playlist. 

“Dreams by The Cranberries.” You brought your eyes back up to face him. But what you saw was confusion in Spencer’s eyes. He tried to hide it but you knew better. “Have you heard that song?”

He did that little sideways pout you often saw him doing when he was in awkward situations.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. Spencer broke eye contact, embarrassed he didn’t know something from pop culture. 

“It’s okay. Remind me next time I have my headphones and I’ll show you.” You spoke calmly to reassure him there was nothing to be embarrassed about. 

He brought his attention back to you. Relieved to hear your gesture instead of a quip about his lack of pop culture knowledge like he was used to. 

“I will.” 

“Alright my turn.” You shifted your weight and brought your legs up to your side so your whole body could face him. “Um, it's kind of a personal question though. I’m curious about something.” 

“Go ahead. What is it?” He asked, giving you his whole undivided attention. 

“Does it ever bother you when people question your age when you say how educated you are?” 

He was somewhat thrown off by your question, but something told him you've wanted to ask him this for a while.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “I wouldn’t say it bothers me. Considering I have had such an extensive education so early in my life, it’s completely understandable that someone would question how I did it at a young age.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed in response. He knew that wasn’t the answer you were looking for. 

“Can I ask you something personal?” He asked before asking his real question. He appreciated your concerns about potentially pushing a boundary and he reciprocated it. He didn’t want to break this newfound friendship- if he could call it that- by making you uncomfortable. 

You nodded your head, silently telling him it was okay.

He slightly fidgeted with his hands. “Did you ask me that because people question your age?” 

“Yes,” you answered hesitantly. “I’ve never looked my age.” 

He thought about his next question before asking. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just trying to understand. Why does that bother you?” 

“It bothers me when people don’t take me seriously. I mean I’m in my late 20s and some people still think I look fresh out of college. It hasn’t happened as often since I joined the BAU but so many people in law enforcement don’t take me seriously. People tend to think I’m too innocent to have a job like this.” You confessed to him as you avoided looking him in the eyes.

"I wouldn't say you're innocent.” His comment brought your eyes back to him. 

“But you do have a soft demeanor. It makes you approachable. If anything, those qualities are an incredible asset to this job whether it be when you're speaking to victims or their family members.” 

Even though he would often throw snarky retorts to you in the past and try to get under your skin, he always admired how good you were at your job. Of course, you were an amazing profiler and had no trouble standing against dangerous unsubs. But the way you handled incredibly sensitive situations with such calmness and comfort with others was admirable. During cases with children, you were able to ease their worries and provide a safe space.

“While you are very sweet and shy, I would never call you innocent.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at his compliments. You felt understood hearing his affirmation. It also warmed your heart to hear that he thought so highly of you. Especially since the last few weeks, you thought he hated your guts. Although- his comment did make you more curious about how you were perceived. “Half the time I don’t realize how shy I am or how I present myself,” you weakly chuckled.

“There were actually a lot of ways to deduce that you're shy,” he matched your lighthearted tone but also kept a sense of seriousness to prove he was being genuine.

“Was it the fact that I was sitting by myself and scared to talk to them?” You half joked as you figured that’s what he was going to imply.

"That was part of it, yes. But besides that, it was the way you often avoid direct eye contact, and the tone of your voice. It's gentle and low, as if you're afraid of coming on too strong.” He was too caught up in his thoughts and observations to realize how much he was divulging. “You keep your distance and your words are always measured or not overly assertive. Almost like if you do come off assertive you will receive backlash." 

When he met your eyes again, he noticed how frozen you were. On the outside you didn't reveal much, simply had a stoic expression. He knew you better than that. He knew that he had hit a nerve and started to panic that he went too far. He had finally wrecked this slowly growing friendship like he thought he would, by being himself. 

“Wow, yeah that sounds pretty spot on,” you agreed. You sounded soft spoken and played with your hair again, of course without your knowledge.      

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He abruptly spattered in a panic.

“No it’s okay really,” you interrupted trying to reassure him. “I just didn’t expect you to be so ... correct.” 

He pressed his lips into a thin line, relieved he didn't mess things up, but still slightly worried he had left you feeling exposed. "I guess I'm just good at noticing things about people,” he shrugged.

“You forget, we get paid to notice things about people,” you joked with him, trying to make him feel better by lightening the situation. Of course, it worked. 

"That's true." He chuckled and paused for a moment to consider. Then he continued with his profile of you. 

"It's just the way your voice softens whenever you become uncomfortable, almost whispering or lowering in tone. Or your nervous habits, like when you play with your hair." It was a gesture he was pretty keen on catching.

You suddenly were very aware of the fact you were playing with your hair. You quickly dropped your hands and crossed your arms. 

"It's not bad that you do that, you know,” his voice had a slight crack in it. “It's just something you do subconsciously." He told her, trying to be comforting.

“Do you wanna know something you do subconsciously?” You asked, your voice with a hint of teasing. You decided that if he was going to profile you, you were going to profile him back. 

He noticed your tone and that you had gained a bit more confidence. "Sure, hit me." He said as he awaited your reply with curiosity and interest.

“You poke your tongue out a lot or lick your lips. Most of the time when you’re concentrating or lost in thought. Which means you definitely need to start using chapstick. I’ve seen you do it a lot since we’ve been out here.” You explained.

"So, are you telling me my lips are dry?" He replied playfully, his grin widening.

“They probably are,” you lightly laughed at the silliness of his question. He laughed along with you and subconsciously went to lick his lips again, but caught himself.

“I'm gonna be thinking about this so much more now,” he confessed. 

“Consider it payback for pointing out how much I play with my hair when I'm anxious. I don’t know what to do with my hands now,” you remarked as you dramatically waved your hands in the air.                                 

“Sorry,” he awkwardly apologized.

“I already told you it’s alright. You're not the only one who analyzes behavior. I’ve noticed plenty of things you do and why you do it.” 

“Like what?” He furrowed his eyebrows, curious what particular things about him you had profiled. He noticed something though. The confidence you once had, had washed away after you collected your thoughts.  

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you stated.

"You won’t make me uncomfortable,” he responded almost immediately. “I promise. I really want to know.”

You took a deep breath before explaining your observations. “You desperately want to be heard. You love to share the endless knowledge you have, but when someone walks away or cuts you off your reaction is almost that of deflating. And when someone does show a bit of interest in what you have to say your voice perks up and almost cracks with excitement. Then you talk a lot faster, probably a mixture of excitement and as a way to keep the other person engaged and to not lose their attention.” 

Spencer carefully listened to every word you said. Not a single deduction was false. You had read him like a book in the short time you knew him. You noticed something about him that most of the team couldn’t pick up on. 

"You're right about everything,” he said with a soft tone. Almost everyone interrupted him, you never did. This got him thinking. Of course everyone on the team made observations about each other, they’re profilers of course. However, he wondered why you had made so many about him. 

"Are you always this observant about everyone? And I mean everyone. Or is it just me that gets the special treatment?" He asked his last question with a hint of a teasing tone.

You scoffed, “yeah right, like you get special treatment.” You thought about your response, not wanting to reveal too much.

“I guess I might have paid attention to you because you were the only one who was so closed off to me. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know who you were even if you weren’t going to tell me.” 

He was right, you were paying him special attention. The fact that you wanted to know who he was despite his closed off nature revealed enough. 

“So you admit it, I get special treatment?" He cheekily asked. 

“Oh shut up,” you retorted. 

“Make me.”

Your lips pursed, holding back a smile. 

Spencer noticed you were trying to hold back a smile and found it endearing. He also noticed something else about your reaction. You were blushing. You blushed as a result of his taunting. He got lost in the thought of you blushing from him. 

“Something you wanna share with the class?” You teased. 

He didn't want to admit it, not yet at least. He wanted to make you sweat just a little bit and get a reaction out of you. 

"I'm curious about something. Could you tell me what would cause someone's cheeks to flush?" He tried to seem genuine but of course he came off with a hint of cheekiness. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. You were completely oblivious to your red face and were confused by his random inquiry. 

“Are you questioning my profiling skills?” You lightly scoffed, not knowing what his true intentions were.

"No, not exactly. I just want to know what you think.”

Your expression changed to one of confusion but also amusement. You decided to play along with his little game.

“Well psychologically blushing could mean a multitude of things. Embarrassment, stress, anxiety, attraction.” While your voice stayed consistent, he noticed the change in your breath and how your eyes darted away from him. It was a brief expression, but he caught it. He got the answer he was looking for.

"And which one of those can explain why you’re blushing?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he leaned closer to you.

Your stomach dropped and eyes widened. You shifted your weight in your seat and touched your cheeks. “I’m not blushing..” You ignored his question.

"You are.”

You sighed and stood up, “Well if I am it’s probably because you just pointed it out and I’m embarrassed.” 

"Oh, really?" He taunted and followed you. "I think that you might be blushing for a different reason."

You bit your lip out of frustration and crossed your arms. “Are you profiling me Spencer?” 

"Maybe I am,” he smirked. "I would say that maybe you've been so interested in me that you've been paying a lot of attention. That's why you took note of so many of my habits and behavior." 

Your face got redder and you started playing with your hair again. You huffed, “I told you before, the reason I paid attention to you was because I didn’t know you.”

"Sure, but you pointed out how you kept noticing I licked my lips. Why were you looking at my lips in the first place?"  

You were caught between a rock and a hard place. “Why are you so interested in why I’m blushing or looking at your dumb face anyway? Why do you care so much?” You asked defensively. 

He couldn’t respond, he froze up. 

“I mean, you question why I pay so much attention to you but here you are doing the same thing to me. Trying to read me like a book,” you accused. 

He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess we're both curious about each other."

“I guess we are,” you responded. You saw his cheeks turn pink in reaction to your questioning. “Look who’s red now.”

If his face could even get redder, it did. For a man that could probably say a thousand words a minute, it seemed like none of them could fall from his lips. 

It was your turn to smirk. “I can’t believe I’ve managed to leave you speechless. Never thought that would happen.”

"Shut up,” he sheepishly scoffed. 

“Make me.”

Spencer felt his stomach flutter, he smiled bashfully at your mimicking his own teasing. The seconds passed and neither of you spoke, neither of you had words. Both of you in your own heads. In your head, you got a stroke of confidence. You didn't know where it came from, maybe the teasing, maybe the fact that you had him speechless. But you took it and ran with it.

”Maybe the reason you wanted to know why I was blushing so badly, is the same exact reason I was blushing,” you mumbled. 

The realization hit him in waves. You just admitted to the very thing he was trying to get out of you in the first place. He was speechless once again, but this was different. He stared at you with a stunned look, not knowing what to do. 

You took his blank expression as a negative reaction, thinking you came off too strong. You slowly backed away from him, regretting putting yourself out there. 

“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Just forget it.” You turned around to go back inside but felt something on your wrist. You turned around and saw Spencer had grabbed your wrist to stop you. His eyes wide and breath heavy.

"No. Don’t,” he begged. 

"Really?" You whispered softly. 

He smiled, "yes. Please don't take it back."

You smiled back at him bashfully. Spencer’s reaction make your stomach do backflips, but it made you wonder. 

"Can I ask, why did you pay such close attention to me? 

He released his light grasp on your wrist and instead placed your hand in his. "I couldn't stop analyzing every single detail about you. I wanted to know you inside and out. There was something about you that felt intoxicating. After every time I spoke to you, even if it was just us bickering or arguing, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” 

He looked down at your joined hands and started to rub his thumb over your hand. You looked up at him and smiled, glancing at his lips. “Well you definitely must be thinking about something now, you licked your lips.”

He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. You made him feel like he was on full display, like he was a book that only you could read. 

He slightly blushed at your comment. “I am. Can you guess what I'm thinking about?"

You grabbed his other hand with yours as a smirk grew on your face, “How close we are. How it’s probably driving you crazy..” You nearly whispered the last part as you leaned closer to him, “how I’m making you crazy..”

"You do.” Spencer wrapped one of his arms around your waist and placed his hand on the small of your back. A shiver ran down your spine as his hand touched your back. Of course, he could tell and was light headed by the effect you had on him. He’d never felt so intoxicated by someone before. “You’ve made me a mad man ever since I met you.” 

Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

“What about you?” He asked. “Do I make you crazy?” 

You glanced between his eyes and his lips. 

“Yes..”

It was like you both were on the exact same wavelength. You both dove in at the same time and slammed your lips together. Both of you just so desperate to get a taste of the other. The kiss was tender and passionate, with no single person in control. You both moved together in synced motions. All of the arguments, all the tension that had been slowly building up could be released.

When you finally parted, Spencer rested his forehead against yours. You felt his airy breath as he tried to come back down to earth. You placed a hand on his face and stroked his cheek with your thumb. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” he breathed. 

“I can tell,” you chuckled. “what’s stopping you from doing it again?”

“Do you want me to?” He asked desperately. 

You placed your other hand on the back of his neck, “I love hearing you talk.. but shut up and kiss me.

Before today he never liked the idea of you telling him what to do. But now, he was at your mercy. He didn’t hesitate and locked your lips with his once again. You both melted together like lovesick teenagers. But moments like these of course don’t last forever. 

The sound of the patio door opening fell deaf on both your ears. It wasn’t until you heard Derek Morgan that you both pulled away from each other. 

”What’s going on out here?” Derek questioned with a smirk. 

You and Spencer couldn’t speak, too frozen to react. 

His grin only grew, “My man,” he chuckled as he glanced at Spencer.

“Don’t kill each other while you're out here.”  Derek left the way he came and closed the patio door. 

You sighed, “He’s gonna tell someone isn’t he?”

“Yup”

~

He made his way back to his coworkers with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “What’s got you all happy?” Emily asked. 

“Looks like our two angry birds are now two love birds,” he answered. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Penelope sprinted over as fast as she could with her heels. 

“How I just caught Reid and Y/N making out.”

The room exploded with chaos at the reactions to his news.

JJ, who was standing off to the side with Hotch, furrowed her eyebrows, “I thought they hated each other?” 

Hotch glanced towards the patio door and saw the light shadow of two figures. “No they don't. Not really.” 

[leqonsluv3r]

Thoughts on a ‘the bodyguard’ AU with leon and reader BUT!!!! Reader is a superstar who is much more “sexualized” and basically records soft porn for their music videos. at first leon thinks he's going to deal with another girl who thinks shes all hot shit only to find out shes bound by contract and only wanted to sing and preform not do.. this. But shes wary of Leon bc she thinks Leon thinks can get her in bed.

Even better.. if shes a virgin… 👀

popular

re4 bodyguard!leon kennedy x famous!fem reader

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: MDNI, 18+, virgin reader (but not naive or inexperienced), leon being a big soft bodyguard, reader has insecurities, some mentions of body issues, mentions of anxiety around cameras, readers parents are assholes, everyone that’s not leon or reader is kind of an asshole (sorry), mentions of masturbating, praise, pet names (baby, sweet girl, etc), small age gap (reader is 21 & leon is 27), lots of kissing & praise, aftercare, soft!dom leon makes another appearance, sub!reader, oral (m receiving), and unprotected sex.

“she wants to argue. wants to refute the idea of even having a bodyguard. it’s ridiculous. even if stepping into a crowd with cameras pushed in her face and flashing lights makes her heart rate increase, not in the way she’d prefer. she waits for him to show up, she doesn’t even know who her agent hired but she’d rather hide and cower in fear then stand at her door like an idiot. finally, a knock at her door. she opens it without a second thought. the most devastating man on the other side of it, her resolve slips as he looks her up and down with a small click of his tongue, “nice to meet you, i’m leon.” and she seems to forget the reason she was arguing to begin with.”

— or reader gets a bodyguard and unknowingly signs up for more then protection in the process

masterlist taglist

an: HOLY SHIT UR A GENIUS <333 thank you for the request. i’ve been waiting for this, hopefully you enjoy it. i am a sucker for the bodyguard trope but throw in the fact that she’s a virgin and it’s almost like the bodyguard :,) jesus, y’all are geniuses. i’m sorry that this is so long in advance. take it as a peace offering for taking so long.

she has no idea what she signed up for.

not in the slightest.

she has no idea who her agent hired for protection but after her stunt last week in front of the paparazzi, she’s willing to bet it’s someone who knows what he’s doing.

after leaving her house last week, going to the strip to shop a little and having a day to herself. she got bombarded by the paparazzi for no reason, other then just simply being in the limelight and having cameras shoved in her direction.

she tried to avoid the millions of people with cameras, flashing bulbs and the annoying click of the cameras lens with their annoying and useless questions. one person in particular got a little too close and…

her anxiety spiked causing her to smack the persons camera out of their hand and cause him sending backwards on the sidewalk with the persons broken camera. she didn’t act rationally, there wasn’t room for that anymore. not when she was as famous as she was.

not when she closed her eyes she could hear the clicking of the cameras and the flashing of the lights and everything but her heart pounding her ribcage ceased to exist.

she hated it, she never wanted to be half-naked on magazine spreads, showing off her body on stage. she just wanted to sing for christ’s sake, wanted to write and preform the songs she’d written for years. but her fucking parents…her stupid agent. she hated all the people around her in her career secretly who made her into some sexualized object for people to gawk and stare at.

she felt like a circus act sometimes, not even a world renowned singer. she hated it, she really hated it. and not to mention, she’s a virgin. it’s like her career and the people around her are mocking her, taunting her with the idea of sex but not letting it within her reach.

it’s not like she still wanted to be a virgin at twenty-one. she didn’t but she couldn’t trust a single soul in her world, in her life that she could even begin to consider sharing that part of herself with.

so as she paced in the foyer of her house, waiting for this so called bodyguard that her agent hired to arrive, she couldn’t help but hate the idea. sure, she had anxiety with cameras and sure, she was unsafe every time she went out because of her status to the public.

and the fact that her agent didn’t even ask her before getting her a body guard, going behind her back and just doing it. another nail in the metaphorical coffin that was sure to send her spiraling one day. she ran a hand over her face and checked her apple watch on her wrist.

she didn’t wanna even think about the person that her agent hired. probably getting her someone who has more muscle mass then brains, and doesn’t think before he shoots a gun. in her case, if that’s it, she could just fire him.

a smile slid onto her face at the prospect, even though she really did need protecting. she just hoped it didn’t come back to bite her in the ass later. that was the last thing she needed in her already hectic life.

the doorbell rang and she smoothed out her yoga pants and baby tee, going to open the door. almost waiting to be disappointed when she opened the large piece of wood. but to no avail, she opened it and on the other side stood the most devastatingly handsome man she had ever laid her eyes on.

he seemed to be eyeing her the same way she was with him, she was suddenly very self conscious about her choice of clothing. almost wanting to run back up the stairs to her bedroom to change, his hard blue eyes scanning her from her feet to her eyes like he was analyzing her.

“nice to meet you, i’m leon.” he says with a small ghost of a smile on his features, she swallows and doesn’t know why she forgets her name all of a sudden. this cannot be her bodyguard, please tell me this is her agents idea of a cruel prank.

she nods and says her name, barely getting the words out. she tries to regain the confidence that she had before she opened the door, but it’s lost and she can no longer find it. “i know who you are,” he says with a small chuckle, “i’m sorry i’m late. they wouldn’t let me in at the gates.” he says with a small sigh as if reliving the moment in his head.

she side steps and lets him in, “yeah,” she laughs nervously as she watches him step past her and into her house. “they’re kind of paid to keep people out, not let them in.” she says with a small laugh that sounds nothing like herself. she shuts the door behind them both, letting him look around the interior of her house.

“i suppose their just doing their job then.” he says with a small amused click of his tongue as he moves through the entryway of her house. she stands behind him awkwardly, taking him in while he’s not looking.

he has to be six feet tall at least, or close to it. the suit he’s wearing doesn’t do him enough justice, his muscles are barely straining underneath the fabric. and how he smells…he’s like a cooling mix of mint and some other fragrance she can’t get a handle on.

“i suppose they are.” she says awkwardly as she makes her way past him and trails herself into the kitchen, letting him follow behind her. his shoes thudding against the hardwood polished flooring, making her heart pick up for a different reason entirely.

she grabs a drink from her fridge, trying to distract her brain and her eyes from the gorgeous man a few feet away from her. “would you like a drink?” she asks with a small nervous smile, keeping her eyes trained on the interior of the fridge rather than him. god, he just made her wet. just his presence was enough to make her feel horny.

he shakes his head, waving a hand dismissively, “i’m alright.” she nods and grabs a soda for herself out of her fully stocked fridge and shuts it behind her, cracking the soda and taking a sip. she manages to take a peek at him, he’s still looking around her house.

what could be so interesting about her house? she thinks to herself as she shifts on her feet, just watching him as she leans against her marble counter and sips her soda. his eyes seem to catch a piece of art in the kitchen, that was one of the perks about being subjected to being famous.

the art and things she had acquired, she had collected some pieces like trophies. just to prove to herself that not every part of being famous and having a lot of money was so terrible.

“you like art?” she asks softly as she shifts behind him, sipping on her soda again. she watched his blue eyes trace over the contours of the canvas in the kitchen. she just watches him take it in and devour it with his eyes.

she was kinda jealous of the painting.

just for a split second before he spoke and snapped her out of it, “i have a taste for it.” he says demurely, looking back over at her and away from the art. “so,” he eyes her up and down with those glacier blue eyes.

she swallows and shifts on her feet, looking back at him. “so?” she says with a small nervous smile. he sighs, “things are gonna be different from now on and i’m assuming you know that.” he says with a small brow raise, sticking his hands in his slack pockets.

she swallows and nods, “yeah, uhm, probably. my agent said that she gave you a rundown of everything that’s been going on.” she says nervously as she drinks more of her soda again and ducks her down for a split second. meeting his eyes was dangerous, it was like he could see right through her.

“exactly.” he clicks his tongue and moseys through the large kitchen, almost like he’s inspecting it as he talks, “i’m going to be with you all the time. i’ll escort you to places, even public outings that are simple. not another paparazzi fiasco will happen when i’m around.” he says firmly but his tone was gentle and smooth.

her cheeks blush a deep shade of scarlet, “you…heard about that?” she swallows as she looks back up at him from where he stood on the opposite side of her kitchen. he nods, a ghost of a smirk on his face, “who didn’t hear about that?” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice.

she had to give him that, it was on every publication after it happened. saying that she was violent towards the press when she simply just freaked out. cameras being shoved in her face, the flashing lights, the clicking of lenses, she hated it.

“that will never happen again, paparazzi will be controlled and away from you. put to a minimum, i’ll make sure of that.” he said with a tap of his fingers to the countertop of her kitchen. she sighs and nods, her mouth dry at just his presence alone. “i’ll protect you, okay? you’ve got nothing to worry about.” he said firmly.

she found comfort in leon’s words, more comfort then she should. she liked him already, maybe a little too much.

two weeks later, it was proving harder and harder to be around leon. she liked his presence, he was gentle and he never scolded her. he didn’t put pressure on her like everyone else did. he was simply doing his job and protecting her, like he was hired to do.

but she couldn’t ignore certain things about him, things that made her core heat up. he would always have his fingers splayed out on his thighs when he sat, and it was hard to not let her mind wander around. just imagining his hands on her, rubbing over her skin and coaxing noises out of her.

then there was the matter of him coming to her shoots, he would always keep his eyes trained on her. and seeing him and his eyes on her when she was basically wearing nothing for a shoot, it was beyond torture and it was like having another piece of sex dangled in front of her that she couldn’t have.

over time, in the next two weeks, she kept doing it for him. usually she’d have to fake acting sexy, fake her confidence but with his eyes on her. his blue irises trailing every movement, it was so easy to just pretend it was the two of them, fantasize for a small moment. it was the only way she got through shoots anymore.

as another week passed, then another, the constant presence of leon whether she went shopping was there. he was always watching her, watching other people. his gaze was so gentle, so firm and yet so cold. like he could snap someone’s neck with just a simple look. it was exciting and thrilling, making her uncomfortably aroused.

and whenever that happened, she went home, dismissed him for the day and went to her bedroom. she would slide her hand down her pants and just fantasize about him, his strong hands, his sharp jaw and the way his tone sometimes became gentle out of nowhere.

she would imagine that maybe one day, he would bend her over her kitchen counter, fuck her until she was a crying mess. he’d be gentle, but also rough and firm when it counted. she imagined all these things with her hands rubbing at herself.

it was becoming so unbearable to just be in his presence these days, he was just doing his job but it was so annoying. so annoying to be a virgin still and have a piece of eye candy basically follow you everywhere and always have his eyes on you.

the universe was taunting her again with her career, with her fame and she deeply despised it. she hoped secretly that she would just be put out of her misery sooner. she didn’t wanna be a virgin anymore.

one day, after hours at a shoot and grueling work, she went back to her house. leon escorted her back and she dismissed herself to go shower and clean up.

she needed to wash the filth of her career off of her body in one way or another. she fucking hated that she was forced into doing something by her parents and agent just so she could make money.

money was not everything. that was a proven fact.

after she showered, changed her clothes and did her skincare routine. she went downstairs, going into the kitchen to grab a soda. she needed calories, she didn’t give a fuck anymore. her mom, her dad and her agent could all shove it.

“a soda? it’s 4pm?” leon said from behind her at the island, his suited muscular body sitting on a stool and scrolling on his phone. she sighed, popping the can of soda open with a hiss, “your not my keeper. i can drink soda.” she says with a small frown.

“i personally don’t care what you do as long as it’s safe. i was just making an observation.” he says with a small ghost of a smirk down at his phone. why does he have to be so hot, this isn’t fair. she thinks to herself as she sips on her soda and nods.

“sorry, i’m just…” she starts and walks towards the marble island that separated them in the lavish kitchen. “i just don’t like being told what to do in every aspect of my life, i get a little touchy.” she says with a small sigh, brushing her damp hair over her shoulder.

he sits his phone down on the island, looking at her, “who tells you what to do? your parents?” he says with furrowed brows, he was almost confused. like he couldn’t understand why a 21 year old like herself was getting bossed around and told what to do.

“try my parents, my agent, and all of the people i employ.” she says with a small frown as she sips on her soda, looking down at the marble counter top of the island.

he sighs and shifts on the stool he’s perched on, “they’re all controlling?” he asks with a small look of confusion on his lovely features. she swallows back a little bit of her nerves, “i didn’t want this.” she says honestly.

she doesn’t feel like she has to hide everything from him all the time, not after he’s been around her a month, almost two. “i didn’t want to be…this.” she gestures to the house around him, she looked up at him and unflinchingly met his strong blue gaze.

she continued, “all i’ve ever wanted was to do things my way. my career, my life. i have never had a choice. my parents, my label and my agent have all made sure of that.” she feels her mouth drying up as she continues to speak. like all the things that have been pent up were pouring out of her.

and leon just listened, nodding when he wanted to or when it was needed. he wasn’t being paid to be her therapist, or anything other then her bodyguard. but he was listening, he was understanding her. her frustrations and the things that made her tick, made her upset.

“so let me get this straight.” he says after she explains and basically rants to him, raising a hand as his eyes shut in frustration and in something that border-lined on concern.

“you’ve just wanted to sing, to write music and preform. but your parents, your label and…your agent they’ve all made you into this sex symbol just because of the money?” he says with a small open to his blue eyes again, they were so powerful and untouchable, just like him. no wonder he was her bodyguard.

she nods with a dry mouth, sipping on her soda again, forgetting it was beside her on the counter. “pretty much.” she said with a sad laugh, shifting on her bare feet against the cool tile of the kitchen.

his face took on one of frustration, sadness and he almost looked pained. he didn’t pity her, didn’t say sorry. he just pressed his lips together into a line, “your they’re daughter.” he says in a cold tone.

it’s one she had never heard before but it had an affect, the shiver up her spine beneath her clothes. the goosebumps on her arms and the pulsing of her clit. it was having an affect.

she closes her eyes for a beat, blowing out some air and just said, “i know.” and she accepted it. she had accepted it for a while now, that maybe some things were just never going to change.

and she was just going to be expected to live with it.

the revelation to leon had brought forth changes, changes that she didn’t ever know she needed. and she should’ve done it sooner, told someone on the outside that had no idea who she was what she desired, what she longed for.

freedom.

he was different now, he was more…attentive.

he would stick by her side until the very last second at shoots, music videos, anything that required her to be half naked. he was there, standing right beside her.

he would even encourage her, whisper things when her makeup crew or clothing people weren’t around. he was even rubbing his hand over her elbows, shoulders and a firm hand on her lower back to steer her.

people wrote it off as him just being a very good and protective bodyguard. but they both knew deep down that things had shifted between them.

it was almost friendship, almost, except for the longing deep in her gut. his touches were innocent but would make her body pulse and her skin heat. it was dangerous to be so close to him sometimes.

she couldn’t doubt that if someone were to take her virginity, she’d want it to be him. she’d imagine often how gentle he would be, yet domineering like he was in his role as her bodyguard.

she had no doubt in her mind that if the opportunity ever presented itself, she’d have to take it.

she’d let him, the thought didn’t petrify her anymore. he had not spoken to a soul about what she shared about her career, about her life and what she really and truly wanted. she knew she could trust him.

she’d just have to wait and deeply hope that he’d try something, anything that she could latch onto where he was concerned.

she was too fucking nervous to make the first move, she didn’t know what that would even be? kiss him? palm his erection? she’d had sexual encounters before but they never went below the belt.

but she knew that she had just as much impact on him as he did with her. she had seen that subtle shift in the next two weeks after she had confided in him in the kitchen.

his stare lingered on certain parts of her body for far too long to be considered friendly. she never caught his stare, she wanted him to look. and it felt good to be practically eye-fucked by him, it gave her a sense of confidence that she’d never had before.

it was freeing.

one day, she was feeling like a taut rubber band. like every gentle touch and feeling of him being in her vicinity was driving that feeling in between her legs in agony.

it physically pained her from how aroused she was, her nipples were hard in her bra and she felt like she was going to burst into flames if he delicately touched her elbow or any part of her skin again.

it was torture.

she felt like she needed at least to masturbate like a hundred times before the feeling ended. before she could ease that ache, she was just sitting in her bedroom, watching her flatscreen on the wall mounted in front of her.

she rubbed her thighs together, she was hoping to soothe the ache there. she bites her lip until it could almost bleed.

she wasn’t expecting leon to still be here, she was waiting for him to go home like he did everyday, waiting for him to leave her. she was almost desperately waiting just so she could stick her hand in between her legs and satisfy the ache there.

but no, he looked in the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe. she kept her eyes locked on the tv, but she could feel his glacier like gaze on her. she kept her back leaned against the headboard, pressing her thighs together as she watched the tv show in front of her.

“i thought you went home already?” weak excuse and question on her part, she didn’t know if she wanted him to go so she could alienate the ache herself or if she wanted him to stick around to see where this might lead.

he chuckled lowly and shook his head, “nah, sorry pretty girl. i’m sticking around a little later. why so urgent for me to leave?” he says with a small raise of his brow in her direction.

pretty girl? fuck me. she thinks to herself as she sputters for an answer, her lips parting. “uhm, i just…i’m not urgent. you…you just usually are gone by now.” she says softly as she looks at him, meeting his gaze.

she presses her thighs together on instinct even though it did nothing to get rid of the dripping tension in her panties.

“oh? so it’d have nothing to do with you touching yourself now would it?” he says with a almost feline smile, she felt her eyes go wide and her body freeze. how the hell did he know about that?

“i-i…” she tries to speak, to ignore the way her cheeks were heating up in embarrassment or the way her lower stomach churned with arousal that he knew.

“i heard you last week after you thought i left.” he says lowly as he slowly saunters into her room a little more, rounding the bed until he was standing at the very end of the queen mattress, his gaze trained on her, his movements almost primal.

she would almost pinch herself, she had to be dreaming. this wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real.

“i-“ she tried to speak again, to justify what he heard, to maybe get some kind of excuse or explanation out. he stopped her again, planting one of his hands on the surface of her mattress. “you moaned my name.” he says in a dark voice, his eyes practically eating her alive.

she felt naked under his gaze, felt her skin shiver and heat up within the same breath as she parted her lips a little.

“so tell me, pretty girl, what about me turns you on enough to where you feel the need…to stick your hands down into your pants and cum all over your fingers?” he says with a small predatory raise of his brow, he leans back and rounds to her side of the bed on her mattress.

she couldn’t think of just one thing to answer his question, she had so many things. so many things that she could say but the lust and arousal in her underwear was fogging her virgin brain. “everything.” she breathed out as she looked up at him as he stood above her on where she was sitting on her bed.

he licks his lips and his pupils dilate a little bit, “everything, huh?” he says with a smirk, sitting down on the bed by her. his hand resting on her knee, rubbing small circles on the skin there, causing goosebumps to crawl up her legs and make in between her legs pulse.

“yes.” she breathes softly, almost gasping for air. this sounds nothing like her, so desperate and wanting. this was the opportunity and she had to take it, she moved forward as she met him, her face so close to his as his hand went up from her knee up to her thigh, gently squeezing and rubbing.

“go ahead, baby.” he said in a low rasp as he saw her looking between his beautiful blue eyes and his pink lips. she licked her own lips and nodded slowly, almost in a trance. he was giving her permission, he was letting her kiss him.

she moved her head forward and pressed her lips to his, softly moving her lips against his as his grip on her thigh got tighter. the kiss started to heat up, his tongue started moving against hers and she grasped at his shirt, her small hands grasping the fabric like a tether as they continued to sloppily make out.

she couldn’t find it in herself to care as the tv show went on and played softly in the background as she kept kissing him. she was desperate and trying to subtly get him closer to her, trying to pull herself on-top of him.

he caught onto that, letting her move onto him, straddling his lap as she felt his bulge rub up against the hem of her shorts. she came up for air but kept kissing him, his hands holding onto her hips in a gentle but firm grip. she wasn’t going to be moving anymore or going anywhere.

finally, he pulled away and rasped near her ear, “tell me what you want? hmm, pretty girl? what can i give you?” he whispers against the skin of her ear in a soft rasp.

she shivers and lets out a small whine, “i want…want…” she breathes and she’s desperate, she moves her hips down against his erection, trying to get him close to her.

“you want my cock pretty girl?” he says softly in her ear, rubbing the soft skin in between her shirt and shorts, down to her ass, cupping both cheeks in his hands and squeezing. the words going into her ear and drifting around like music to her ears.

she mewls, his hands on her ass making her press down on his hardened erection more. she nodded slowly and licked her lips, he pulled his head away a little to fully look at her face. her lips were puffy and swollen from their kissing, her eyes hazy and diluted with lust.

“where do you want it?” he rasps softly as he moves on of his hands from her ass to cup her chin, his thumb rubbing over her bottom lip. “you want it in your mouth?” he says with a soft smirk, completely 180 from before.

he then doesn’t give her a chance to respond or react before he moves his hand down to her shorts, cupping in between her legs. “or in that pretty pussy you have?” he says. she whines and tries to move against his hand, he tuts her and moves his hand away. “choose baby, i’m being patient.” he whispers in a low rumble.

“both.” she mumbles in a small heave of breath, her chest rising and falling beneath her shirt fast. his eyes dilate more if it’s even possible, she can barely see the blue in his eyes anymore.

he licks his lips, she could feel his dick twitch in his pants beneath her, she held back a whine and swallowed. “mmm, both? i think that can be arranged, princess.” he says softly as he looks at her with a soft grin.

she feels her panties get wetter if it was even possible at this point. he seems to toss the idea around in his brain for a second, one hand still squeezing her ass and the other rubbing over her stomach over her shirt.

“get naked, baby. then get on your knees.” he says in a soft demand. she shakily climbs off of him, his hands falling away as her feet hit the ground of her bedroom in front of him. she keeps eye contact with him as she moves her hands to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head.

her skin kissing the cool air of the room, her nipples hardening further beneath the material of her bra. he keeps his eyes on her the whole time, practically devouring her with just a simple gaze.

that was incentive enough to continue doing what he said, the promise of what she was going to do after she got naked made her tremble in arousal a little.

she slipped off her cotton shorts next, letting them pathetically fall to the floor by her feet and her discarded shirt. and now was the time when he would see everything, he wouldn’t see the version that he’d seen before.

he’d see all of her in her purest form, so raw and real that it almost made her legs shake where she stood. he nodded once at her, silently telling her to continue.

she licked her lips and reached behind her, unclasping her bra like she’d done this a million times before. she lets the material fall to the floor again with the rest of her discarded clothes. she could’ve sworn she heard him groan when he saw her breasts.

she didn’t give him much time to recover as she stripped her underwear down her legs and was completely barren and standing before him.

he muttered a ‘fuck’ beneath his breath and grabbed a pillow from her bed, sitting it on the ground in front of his legs. she’d given blow jobs before, but nothing like this.

nothing like leon looking at her like she was the only thing that seemed to matter in this moment. this went beyond protection, beyond his job description and beyond anything they both could comprehend.

she got down on her knees in front of him, her knees kissing the pillow as she felt him reach down and cup her chin, bringing her gaze up towards him.

“your in good hands now, pretty girl. i’ll give you what you want. and i don’t expect anything in return, okay?” he says with his unwavering gaze locked on hers. she nods in his grip, his thumb going back to her bottom lip and pushing his thumb in between her lips and teeth.

she understands, her arousal pooling messily in between her thighs as she kneels on the pillow before him. she sucks generously on the pad of his thumb, taking the whole thing into her mouth, swirling her tongue on it a little.

“fuck, baby. so messy.” he whispers in a low rasp as he watches in amazement as you suck and lick at his thumb like it was his cock. he pulls it out of your mouth with a small pop, smearing your saliva all over your lips. “so pretty, princess. i promised you my cock.” he muses lowly.

she can’t think or say anything, fearing the only thing at this point to come out of her mouth would be whines and whimpers. he undoes his belt on his slacks, lifting his hips to pull both the boxers and the slacks down to where his cock springs free against his stomach.

fuck, even his cock was beautiful. she licked her lips on instinct and saw the little bead of precum at the tip, swallowing her nerves she moved her head over it. pressing a kiss to the tip which made him emit a small noise bordering on a groan and a moan, she kept pressing kisses to the tip before licking at the vein that ran from the base to the head. 

“oh, pretty girl…such a tease.” he drawls in a low panting breath above her. she feels her practically leak down her legs at this point, his words making her clench around nothing.

she licks at the tip before hollowing her cheeks and sucking him into her mouth, her head bobbing slowly. she felt his hands go into her hair and hold her head gently almost guiding her as she kept her mouth and head moving on his cock.

“fuck, just like…fuck…that.” he moans as he looks down at her, her head moving as steadily as she can, raising her hand to stroke what she can’t fit in her mouth. sucking on him like a lollipop, he lightly fists her hair, his nails lightly scratching her scalp.

she moans around his cock, her jaw aching but finding the pain worth it as she keeps trying to pleasure him. she looks up at him, making eye contact as she flutters her lashes, removing her hand and taking all of him into her mouth as she gags softly, ignoring the pain in her jaw and throat.

“oh god…such a dirty girl, you like having my cock in your mouth, baby?” he groans as she fists her hair a little tighter, she nods around his cock, moaning softly against it. he hisses at the feeling.

“so fucking close, princess. gonna cum in that pretty mouth and then…gonna cum in that pretty pussy.” he growls as she keeps up her pace with her head, basically deep throating him as the head of his cock meets the back of her throat.

she could come at just his words alone at this point, her pussy aching painfully and dripping down the inside of her thighs. she is determined at this point to let him finish inside of her mouth, she finds herself actually wanting his cum to slide down her throat.

with just a few more bobs of her head, he’s cumming into her mouth with a loud moan, gripping at her hair. seeing him come apart by just her mouth was enough to make her nerves disappear, he was so wrecked from just her mouth alone and it made her pussy tingle.

she eagerly swallowed his cum, swallowing all of it and pulling away from his cock with a small pop. he reached down with his thumb and wiped some of the saliva and his cum off of her lip and pushed it in her mouth. “mmm, good girl, baby.” he praises.

he gave her a second to gather herself before lifting her softly off of the pillow on the ground and laying her down on the bed. she hits her mattress and her comforter with a soft thud and bounces a little as he stands where she was just kneeling, kicking the pillow to the side by his feet.

he starts unbuttoning his shirt, getting fully undressed and kicking his shoes and socks off. his clothes joining her discarded ones on the floor. he then lets his blue eyes rake over her, looking from how hard her nipples are to the way your pussy is practically leaking onto the sheets below you.

he just can’t help himself, not when your involved. “baby, i’m gonna ask you something and please be honest with me.” he says in a soft but firm voice as he kneels in between her thighs, brushing some of her hair out of her face.

she just nods as she licks her puffy lips, letting him ask his question and giving him the go ahead that it was okay to ask.

“has anyone fucked you? ever?” he says with a small look over her eyes and the way her cheeks heated up to a perfect pink again. she shakes her head, “no, i’m a virgin. i’ve…i’ve done things but ive never…” she trails off and hopes that answer is good enough to satisfy him.

he groans and shakes his head, “jesus, princess.” he says with a low rasp as he leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek. “i’ll have to take extra care of you then, huh?” he says with a small smile against her lips, pressing a delicate kiss there.

she nods slowly, “i’ve trusted you enough to let you.” she whispers as she looks into his blue eyes, they were connected and yet they weren’t. the way his body came over hers and just protected her from the onslaught of nerves that bubbled beneath the surface.

his blue eyes soften and he nods slowly, the hand that’s not propping himself up by her head moves to cradle her cheek in a loving manner. “i know, baby. i’m gonna take such good care of you. make sure it’s nice for you.” he says with a ghost of a smile on his divine features.

she nods slowly, keeping eye contact as he reaches in between their naked bodies, grabbing his cock and rubbing it in between her slick and wet folds. she gasps softly when it catches her clit. “if it hurts,” he uses his other hand, balancing back on his knees above her on the bed.

he grabs her hand by her side, using the hand that he’s not stroking himself with to intertwine his fingers with hers. he lifts it by her head and leans forward again, his forehead resting against hers, “you squeeze three times on my hand. okay? and i’ll stop.” he says softly as he just lets his eyes flutter open and shut.

she nods in understanding, he continues to run his cock through her wet folds and coating his cock in her arousal. he presses a soft kiss to her lips and slowly notches the tip of his cock against her entrance.

she bites her lip in anticipation, waiting for the stretch and waiting for the pain that her friends had talked about for their first times. “relax. don’t tense up or it’ll hurt more.” he says softly as if he can read her mind.

she sighs softly against his lips and deeply inhales and exhales, attempting to relax her body and the hot rush of her blood beneath the skin.

he finally sticks the tip into her entrance, the stretch isn’t there yet, she can feel it. she can feel the burning fire in her belly. she doesn’t squeeze his hand that’s intertwined with hers on the bed, she just holds it and waits for him to slide in an inch, then another inch, and the burning is there.

it’s a stretch, it doesn’t hurt…not yet.

he keeps sliding in slowly but surely to make sure she’s okay, make sure she can take him. she takes slow breaths, letting his own mingle with hers in the small space between their lips. she feels him push more until he’s bottomed out within her.

if it wasn’t for his heavy breathing or the little aching stretch in her hymen, she wouldn’t have even known he was inside of her fully. “jesus…god…” he mumbles soft curses as he hovers his lips over hers.

“your pussy is gonna be the death of me. i swear to god.” he mumbles in a low groan as he just stayed still inside of her, the words making her clench instantly around him, he hisses and squeezes her hand, “don’t do that, or i’ll cum.” he grips.

she swallows and tries to ignore how he’s letting her grow accustomed to him inside of her, letting his dick stretch her out and make room for him. after a few minutes and just the sounds of their heavy breathing between them, she nods slowly.

“you can move. i’ll squeeze your hand if…if it hurts.” she manages to get out through a shallowed breath, he nods slowly. taking that as a sign to move his hips that are pressed against hers.

and god, help her. she was going to cum within minutes. the second he moved his hips, pulling out almost all the way and plunging back in, a steady pace that burned only slightly. the burn turned into pleasure as he kept moving his hips at a steady place, her moans soft and echoing through her bedroom.

she needed more, soon enough the heat within her became an insatiable desire. she needed it, craved it and she couldn’t believe she had denied herself of something so amazing for so long.

“deeper…more…” she moaned out as her eyes flutter shut and she gripped his intertwined hand beside her head. he almost growled against her lips, but not denying her, not for one second.

he lifts her legs, putting them around his hips and he grabs a pillow off of her bed, slipping it under her hips and then resuming his movements, only this time it was deeper and harder and he was hitting the spot her own fingers could never reach.

“leon!” she whined as she tilted her head back, he growled into her neck, pressing a kiss on her jaw as he groaned and slapped his hips repeatedly against hers. she’d be so sore tomorrow but it’d be so worth it.

“good…doing so good for me princess.” he says lowly in a whisper against her ear, goosebumps that shattered and battled with the climax rising in her belly. it had never felt like this before, felt so overwhelming and consuming.

she was so full of him, so drunk on his cock and the way it was hitting her g-spot every single time. god, she would build an alter for him after this or give him a raise. he deserved it.

the praise melted her brain and her pussy as she kept her eyes fluttering open and shut, her back arching into his. her hard nipples brushing against his chest as he pumped into her ruthlessly.

“fuck, so fucking…” he groaned into her ear and snapped his hips as if it would kill him if he didn’t make her cum, like it was his life’s mission. she whined, “cum…gonna cum…yes…” she cried loudly as he paused his movements and moved back, letting go of her hand and putting her thighs back until they were flush against her abdomen.

he hooked her ankles over his shoulders, putting her in a mating press and nailing her against the mattress. she almost screamed in pleasure, her skin was hot and she felt like she could burst into flames.

this angle…it was so delicious and she felt her climax get closer and closer…until…

“yes…” she moaned out loudly in a whine, her pussy clamping around his cock and cumming with a shudder, small pitiful noises that sounded nothing like her. he groaned and licked around her jaw and nipped, fucking her through her orgasm to chase his own.

“where do you want me to come baby?” he mumbles into her ear, a low drawl that made her pussy clench more. “inside…” she needed him too, she needed to feel it, just once. just one time.

he nipped at her jaw near her ear, “dirty little princess.” he drawls and she clenched the sheets between her hands beneath her. she whined, he just kept pumping into her, her trembling and shaking body was trying to hold onto the feeling.

“shh, im almost there sweet girl.” he says softly in a rasp as he pumps more and more until finally, he comes inside of her, his body slackening a little bit as if the last bit of his energy has been drained from him.

she can feel the warmth of his cum invading her womb and her pussy, it feels like heaven and she don’t know how she could not want to feel that. she saw him move back, pressing a kiss to her cheek, then her forehead and then her panting and flushed lips. his blue eyes drew back and he brushed some hair out of her face, gentle and tender she leaned into it.

“your all sweaty.” he says with a soft voice as his blue eyes rake over her face and her neck, to her bare collarbones. “here, hold on baby.” he says gently as he leans up onto his knees, carefully pulling his cock out of her entrance with a small pop.

“fuck me…” he mumbled as he looks down at his cum leaking out of her, their combined fluids leaking onto the crevice of her ass. he gently moved the pillow back from under her hips, causing her to mumble a groan.

“shhh, i got you, princess.” he says softly as he moves her legs back down to be comfortable and not pressed against her abdomen anymore. she smiles softly, her body melting into her sheets and comforter.

he gets up and grabs his boxers from the floor, pulling them over his stuff and depleting erection. he walks towards what she assumed was her bathroom attached to her bedroom. he grabbed a washcloth on the side of her sink, wetting it and coming back in.

he just sees her on the bed, her skin flushed and her naked contours against the sheets. she looks so heavenly with that blissed out expression on her face. he smiles and rounds the bed, crawling and bending her legs for her. he wipes the mess they made in between her legs. rubbing over her clit, causing her to hiss an attempt at smacking his hand.

“don’t. i’m just helping clean you up.” he says softly with some small reprimand. she sighs and blinks tiredly, “am i supposed to be so tired?” she asks in a grumble.

he chuckles and nods, “it’s normal.” he says with a small smile in her direction. he grabs the cloth in his hands, grabbing there discarded clothes off the floor, throwing them in her dirty clothes hamper, along with the cloth.

he then goes over to her dresser, pulling it open and one after another until he finds her pj drawer. he grabs her some underwear in the process, walking back over to the bed.

“sit up, baby.” he says gently as he taps her calf, she slowly follows his demand and sits up groggily. she’s pouty now and cute when she’s like this, he finds.

he slips the underwear onto her legs, letting her lift herself into it and putting them on her hips. he dresses her, putting a nightgown over her body. “come on,” he gestures towards the pillows at the head of the bed. she lazily sighs and moves her body until her head is resting on her pillows. he crawls in beside her ontop of the covers, pulling her so she’s half draped over him.

her lazy eyes closing and opening against his bare chest, “are you sore?” he whispers against her head. she shakes her head against his bare chest, “no, just tired.” she mumbles.

he nods and presses a kiss to the top of her head, rubbing a hand up and down her bare arm of the nightgown. “was i good?” she asks after a beat of silence, so quiet he almost didn’t hear her.

“you were beyond good, sweet girl. you were spectacular.” he whispers sweetly in a comforting timbre, his lips hovering over her head. she smiles and nuzzles her head more into his chest, speaking again. “i’m so glad i chose you.” she says before her eyes drift closed against his chest.

something bloomed in his heart, something that he had ignored so many times before in the month and a half he had been working for her.

it was love? wasn’t it? it wasn’t lust. it was something deeper and rawer and it went beyond his comprehension. but as he held her in his arms, he thought one thing: he was happy she had chosen him too.

an: y’all know the drill, reblog and like. my masterlist and my taglist are linked above at the beginning. pls follow for more, i love you all and i hope this oneshot made up for me taking so long to finally post something. i’m working slowly to get all my oneshots and requests out. i promise. just bear with me <33 i love you all so much, hope you guys enjoyed it all. sorry it’s so long (im not), love u all sm, kisses xx.

taglist: @heartsforvin @elihii @argreion @sqiim (let me know in my dms if u wanna join and it’s linked above as well)