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helloalycia · 4 years ago

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overstepping [one] // jane banner (Wind River)

summary: after getting several voicemails from your colleague and best friend with her asking for your backup, you attempt to call her back, only to get no answer.

warning/s: mentions of rape, murder and injuries.

author’s note: this is a two parter because i finally watched Wind River and it broke my heart but also lizzie was v cute and i felt the need to write this, hope you like it x

part two | masterlist | wattpad

"C'mon, work you stupid phone," I complained for the millionth time, before standing on the chair to get a better signal.

When I saw the bars in the corner of the screen increase, a grin appeared on my lips. I loved my parents, but the fact that they lived in a remote cabin in Tennessee with zero signal was not my favourite thing.

When the bars remained, my phone decided to actually be helpful and receive all the messages, calls and voicemails I missed. I did a brief flick through, noticing nothing was too important that couldn't wait for me to return to work. As an FBI agent, I rarely got time off. And now that I had taken a two month vacation to spend with my parents, I was adamant on enjoying it, even if I was missing work a smidge.

Next were the calls, which I noticed were mostly from my colleague and close friend, Jane Banner. I furrowed my brows, realising she'd left me several voicemails, too, which was strange since she knew I was on a break from work. What could be so important?

I sighed, glancing down at my uncomfortable position standing on the chair and leaning above the wardrobe. It was the only place in the house with decent signal and the only other place that wasn’t in the middle of nowhere was twenty minutes out. Telling myself I'd just listen to one voicemail to make sure everything was okay, I played the earliest message.

"Hey, Y/N. I'm sorry, I know you're on a break, but I just had to talk to you," it began, and Jane sounded troubled. "I was in Vegas, as you know, but I've been called out to a reservation in Wyoming where this poor girl was–" She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "She was raped and left to die out in the cold. I thought I could send in another team to take a look – y'know, usual protocol. But the coroner won't rule it a homicide and you know what that means."

I swallowed hard, knowing exactly what that meant. If it wasn't ruled a homicide, no backup would come and we had to move onto the next case. But if this girl was raped and left to die, the rapist was still out there and wasn't getting caught by the FBI.

"I can't just leave it and go," Jane continued quietly, with that recognisable passion for her job evident in her voice. "I have to do what I can. But I... I can't do this alone. It's not like other cases, Y/N. It's different out here. And there's only so much their police department can do. I know you're on a break, but I was hoping that, maybe, you could come out here and help me? It's the Wind River Indian Reservation. That's it, I guess. Bye."

The message ended and I found myself chewing on my lower lip anxiously, unable to think about anything other than Jane now. She'd worried me with that one voicemail alone – I couldn't imagine what the others said.

She was usually so good at dealing with cases, but this seemed different. She sounded shaken up, attempting to put on a brave face by the sounds of it. What was so different about this case? She didn't need me. She was capable.

Curiosity got the better of me and I played the second message, ignoring the discomfort in my arms as I stretched to maintain the signal. It was left a day after the first one.

"Hey, so I just remembered that you said you don't get much signal up there with your parents," she began apologetically. "I don't mean to�� shit, it's so cold..." There was a pause, a noise in the background, then she continued, "Sorry, just turning up the heating. Anyway, I was saying. I don't mean to intrude on your break. I just– I'm hoping you'll find signal and hear this because I could really use your help. I think we've got a lead on who may have done it. It was hectic today. Really could've used that backup."

She chuckled dryly at her attempt at a joke, but all I felt was guilt. She sounded exhausted within a day of being there.

"I hope you get this," she finished with a sigh. "I should go. Got a busy day tomorrow. Hope you're doing okay. Bye."

I wasted no time in playing the next message. Three days into her case.

"I don't know why I keep sending these," she began with a hoarse voice, and my heart clenched at the sound of it. "You clearly aren't getting them in time. But it's easier talking to you like this than not at all."

It went quiet, so quiet that I thought she may have finished and forgot to hang up. But then she spoke up again, a whimper escaping her lips.

"It's so hard," she admitted. "We've covered worse cases, but this one... everything about it makes me uncomfortable. Something doesn't feel right. I've got a lead – we think it might be the boyfriend who did it and we're gonna see him tomorrow. But I don't know."

I frowned, squeezing my phone tightly because I didn't recognise the girl speaking as my friend. This girl sounded broken and I wondered what she could have discovered that made her like this.

"I've got the police department with me for backup," she said with a sniffle. "And Cory, he's a hunter whose been helping me with the case. They're all gonna be with me tomorrow. But I wish you were here, too. You always make things easier."

The lump in my throat wouldn't disappear no matter how many times I swallowed it. She made things easier, too. Always. And all I wanted to was be by her side and be there for her like she always was for me.

"Sorry about this," she said with a watery laugh, and I could imagine the embarrassed smile on her face as she did. "I sound like such an idiot. Never mind these messages. Just enjoy your break. I shouldn't be worrying you like this. See you when you get back."

The message ended and I checked to see if there were anymore, but to my disappointment, there wasn't. That message was from a few days ago and she hadn't sent anything since which was concerning in itself.

Trying not to panic for no reason, I called Jane. Hopefully everything was okay and I was being stupid. She was a fully-trained FBI agent. She could take care of herself. Right?

The call rang and rang, but nobody picked up. One missed call. No biggie. She probably heard it and couldn't find her phone or something. So, I tried again.

More ringing and no answer. Okay, no big deal. Just try again.

Another call and no answer. The chewing on my lip became more intense. Why the hell wasn't she picking up? Was she still working the case?

I waited an hour, trying again at ten minute intervals, unable to fight my concern. But there was no answer every time and I realised that I couldn't sit and wait for her to call back. Not after how she sounded in those voicemails.

No, I had to go there. She needed backup.

—

Wyoming was way colder than I could have prepared for.

I mean, technically, I prepared for nothing. I bid my parents a goodbye, threw some random clothes in a bag and caught the next plane over there. I tried for Jane's phone constantly, knowing she was never one to ignore me for this long, but there was no point. She wasn't answering, which could only mean so much.

When I reached the reservation, I had no idea where anything was or what I was looking for exactly. I just knew that as soon as the taxi dropped me off in the centre of town, I didn't know where to go.

There were a lot of locals hanging around, so my first port of call was to ask them if they'd seen Jane around – or Agent Banner, as she may have introduced herself. I showed them a picture of her on my phone, described her with vivid detail, but they just stared at me like I was crazy. I was starting to believe I was at one point, until I stopped by the convenience store.

As worried as I was for Jane's whereabouts, the chill in my bones was real. Especially my hands, which I was certain would fall off any minute. So, I decided to buy some gloves and also ask the cashier if he'd seen Jane around or heard anything of her. Whilst I was doing that, a customer caught my attention, probably having overheard my conversation.

"Did you say Jane Banner?" he asked with a quirked brow, interrupting my purchase. "The FBI lady, right?"

I nodded quickly, facing him. "Yes, that's her! D'you know where she is?"

He nodded casually. "Yeah, she's in the hospital. That big shootout that happened a few days ago, right?"

My stomach dropped. "The what?"

"The shootout," he repeated, not aware of the concern in my face. "At the drill site. A bunch of officers were killed and the FBI lady was one of the only one left standing." He tutted as he shook his head. "Very lucky that one."

A shootout? The hospital? Only one left standing? No wonder she hadn't been answering her calls.

"Can you– do you–" I stopped, clearing my throat and trying to stop freaking out. "Which hospital?"

After getting the address from him, I caught a taxi to the only hospital in town and prayed to God that Jane was okay. The one thing she'd asked for was backup and I couldn't even give her that. If I'd just looked at my messages sooner... fuck.

Getting past the front desk and to Jane's room was no issue at all. A quick flash of my FBI badge was enough for the receptionist to give me the details and wave me through. My heart was constricting in my chest the longer it took. What if it was really bad? What if that customer's intel was outdated and Jane was– no. I couldn't afford to think like that.

Upon finding Jane's room, I spotted an older man leaving through the door, being careful to close it behind him. I didn't recognise him at all.

"Excuse me," I called, earning his attention. "Is that Jane Banner's room you just came from?"

He seemed surprised, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I was speaking to him, before nodding. "Yes. Sorry, who are you?"

I pulled my badge from my pocket and showed him, though I doubted anyone would take me seriously when my eyes were watering at thought of Jane being severely injured.

"I'm her friend," I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat before lowering my badge.

"Oh, you're the backup that didn't come," he said with realisation.

My eyes flickered to the floor guiltily. He wasn't exactly wrong.

"I didn't mean it like that," he added quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

I shook my head, lifting my eyes to meet his. "It's okay. I should've... I should've been here." It went quiet as he didn't know what to say, so I looked to him halfheartedly. "I assume you're from the police department, one of the ones who helped Jane."

"Not exactly," he said, before putting out his hand for me to shake. "Name's Cory. I'm a hunter by trade."

Returning his handshake, I recalled Jane's voicemail. "Oh, yeah, she mentioned you... thank you for helping her out."

When I couldn’t, I added in my head.

He offered me a small smile and I couldn't find it in myself to return it. I must have looked like shit, since he gave me a pitiful gaze.

"You want me to catch you up before you go in?" he asked, nodding to Jane's door. "She's okay by the way."

I nodded, sucking up a breath. My nerves were eating away at me the longer I didn't see Jane – half of me was terrified of what I'd find, and the other half was afraid she'd be upset or angry because I left her to it, even when she pleaded for my help.

Cory and I took a seat down the hall and he proceeded to explain about the case and how they found the guy who raped that poor girl. The shootout was the worst bit, making me shiver with discomfort. Apparently, Jane had gotten blasted with a shotgun, puncturing her torso and neck despite the vest she wore. All of the officers with her were killed and by the sounds of it, Jane almost was, too. But Cory managed to take out the criminals and the rapist himself. When he was finished telling me, I had no words.

"She's a bit shaken up, but her surgery went well," Cory reassured with a short nod. "Does she know you're coming?"

I shook my head, voice thick with emotion. "She wouldn't answer her phone. I guess I know why now."

Cory nodded, rubbing the back of his neck before sparing me a consoling glance. "She talked about you a lot. I think it'll cheer her up seeing you. You should go."

My eyes met his, teary and stinging with unshed tears. "Thank you so much."

He shrugged bashfully, but he didn't realise all that he'd done. I gave him a small, tight smile before standing up with a sigh. No point dwelling anymore – I had to see her.

Pushing my selfish feelings aside, I sucked it up and approached Jane's room. She would either want to punch me or not, but either way, I had to see if she was okay. And so, when I opened the door slightly, heart racing in my chest, said heart jumped in my throat at the sight of her.

She was laying on the bed with wires stuck in her and, only from what I could see, bandages were covering the side of her neck. I thought she was sleeping at first, but then her head tilted towards the door curiously, and bright blue eyes widened with disbelief.

"Y/N?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "What are you– how did you get here?"

I closed the door behind me and hesitantly approached her bedside, unable to stop my eyes from soaking in the sight of her. She looked so feeble and vulnerable and unlike how I saw her last. Then, Cory's words came back to me and I began to imagine the worst scenario of her getting shot, blood seeping from her wounds, the life draining from her eyes...

"Y/N," she called, and I looked to her startlingly, hoping I didn't look as troubled as I felt.

"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat. "I, er– the messages. Voicemail. I heard them and tried calling you back, but..."

She pursed her lips, exhaling with a wince and looking up at the ceiling, as if suddenly remembering she left messages in the first place.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," I said quietly, guilt seeping back in.

"No, no, don't be," she said, and I just about noticed the pink dusting her cheeks. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have interrupted your vacation like that. I know you said you wanted a break and–"

"Jane, no, don't even say that," I cut her off, reaching for her hand in an instant. She looked my way, eyes flickering between mine nervously. I squeezed her hand gently and said, "I should have been here. You needed me and I– I didn't come. Maybe if I had, this could have ended differently."

She tried to smile, but I could see the discomfort in her eyes. "It's not that bad, honestly. It just looks bad."

I pressed my lips together, eyes falling to the bandage on her neck. Even though it was big and covered her wound, I could still make out the bruising around it from the impact of the shell. I didn't imagine the torso wound looking any different, and that thought alone made me regret leaving her alone. It was very much as bad as it looked; I knew that and she knew that.

Her lips trembled as she avoided my eyes, her own tearing up. I pushed away my guilt momentarily and changed the subject.

"So, I met Cory. He seems like a great guy."

She didn't say anything as she seemed lost in thought. Either that or she was trying not to cry in front of me. I hoped it wasn't the latter, since the last thing I wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable.

"You know," I said, when she wouldn't speak, "I'm pretty sure I told you to stay safe before I left for my vacation."

At my poor attempt to lighten the mood, she cracked a small, tight smile, but a smile nonetheless, and my racing heart slowed down momentarily.

"I'm glad you're okay," I said, now that I had her attention again, and she looked my way with a softened expression. "Kind of okay. But you know... okay."

Thankfully, she knew what I meant and her hand tightened around mine.

"I'm glad you came," she returned, and I couldn't look away even if I tried. She was always able to trap me with a single gaze.

With a tug of her hand, she motioned for me to sit on the edge of her bed, so I did. And then she began to ask me about my vacation, what I'd been up to this past month, how my parents were... basically anything and everything except for the case. And it was understandable, since she was reminded of it all the time. If I could be a form of escapism for her, so be it. It was the least I could do.

We spoke for hours until the nurse came in to let me know visiting hours were over and I'd have to come back tomorrow. With a regretful sigh, I got up from my seat on her bedside and stretched my limbs.

"Where are you staying?" she asked, a slight frown on her lips.

I smiled awkwardly, realising I didn't think that far ahead. "I'm not gonna lie, I don't know. I came straight here. There's gotta be a hotel or something in this town, right?"

She nodded and flicked her hand to the shelves on the other side of the room. "You should stay in my room in the inn. Key's in my bag over there."

"Oh, I don't have to do that–"

"Y/N, it's not like I'm going to be staying there anytime soon," she cut me off, smiling halfheartedly. "Please."

I chewed on my lip and nodded, giving in. When I grabbed her keys from her bag, I stopped by her bedside and gave her a supportive smile.

"I'll back first thing in the morning, if you don't mind," I said, and she finally gave me a smile that reached her eyes.

"I'd like that."

I nodded, resting a hand on hers and squeezing comfortingly. "Goodnight."

—

Though I knew Jane was okay, I still couldn't stop myself from thinking about her all night. The sight of her wounds and the broken expression on her face was enough to keep me awake. And the guilt that came with it all... why couldn't I have just picked up my damn phone?

As promised, I returned to Jane's hospital room the next morning, this time bringing some breakfast snacks from the hospital cafeteria since I knew the food would be much better than whatever they were serving her. Judging by the content expression on her face when I gave it to her, I was right.

When she finished eating, she was able to sit up slightly and move over on her bed, urging for me to join her and watch some TV with her. There was no way I was going to turn down that offer, so I slid next to her and kept a packet of sliced apples between us as we watched whatever was playing on the TV.

About halfway through watching, she spoke up randomly, taking me by surprise.

"When are you leaving?"

I tore my gaze from the screen and realised she was staring at me with intense green eyes.

"When you're well enough to," I answered truthfully.

She looked down to her hands. "You don't have to stay with me. You can go."

I studied her profile, knowing it was the wrong time to appreciate how stunning she looked even when she was makeup-free, sporting a bed head and tired.

"Do you want me to go?" I asked softly, afraid I may have overstepped.

She was quick to shake her head slightly, finally lifting her gaze to meet mine with glossy ones. "No."

I nodded, trying very hard not to smile, cleared my throat and grabbed her hand. "Then I'm not leaving. I'll be right here until you get better and I can take you home."

A ragged breath escaped her lips as she nodded in response. We both looked back to the TV and I noticed she didn't let go of my hand, her fingers warm to the touch and giving me goosebumps at the contact. But I wouldn't have had it any other way.

#jane banner #jane banner x you #jane banner x reader #jane banner imagine #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen imagine #wind river imagine #wind river

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its-deputy-caleb · 3 years ago

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Hi do you think you do the 4 lords reaction to finding out their GN s/o has a shadow demon that goes wherever they go and some time find the 2 of them playing board games

Hiii!! okay important note here! i decided to go a little off topic (sorry) for the purpose of a part 2 where the lord’s s/o will be an angel!! of course still gender neutral and there will be a shadow demon but the s/o will be a demon that hasn’t fully formed yet!

i’ve been really uninspired lately so this probably isn’t my best! i apologise :((

Devil or Angel? Pt.1

General HC’s

It was strange how quickly your life had changed. One morning you were just a normal villager in some godforsaken town in the middle of nowhere Romania and the next day you woke up from the cold dirty ground with a pair of huge dark wings and sharp nails.

You had been exploring some of the woodlands surrounding the village, looking for a water source which was running low when a dark figure came barrelling towards you. It felt like hours, when really it was only a few seconds of sharp searing pain. Maybe it was a bad idea to leave the village alone.

You didn’t die however, or maybe you did? You weren’t quite sure what was happening to your body. All you knew was it must have been something supernatural to make the huge black wings appear.

“Looks like you finally woke up! Do you know how fucking boring it is just waiting for you to wake up?”

You screamed in terror at the large demonic creature floating above you. It was surrounded by a cloud of black mist with red eyes that pierced through its silhouette. It had a large wicked smile aligned with sharp teeth and a set of wings that matched your own.

Behind those eyes was something much more human however, in fact it looked rather bored.

“Who, or what are you?! And mind that language!”

The creature only laughed at you, amused by the whole situation which bothered you beyond compare.

“Well I’m a demon, if I didn’t swear you’d probably think me an angel with these playful charms I posses! And to be more specific I’m your demon, it seems you fell prey to one of the other demons condemned to this world it’s quite the tragedy really.”

You were shocked at just how easily this creature, this demon talked to you. As if it was a completely normal morning and life in the village had not changed at all.

“Oh don’t act so shocked, you medieval villagers have been worshiping my kind for a lot longer than that Mother Miranda. You’re one of us now!”

Surprisingly over time the creature, who’d you’d nicknamed “red” for their glowing eyes, was slowly growing on you. You might even call them a friend.

Sure Red was cocky as all hell and didn’t hesitate to cause trouble amongst the village but they became very protective over you and showed you the ropes on life as a demon.

Life can get kinda boring when you’re practically immortal and so you and red pass the time playing old Romanian board games and solitaire. When village life got really boring you even stooped so low to play go fish together.

A lot of the time you cause mischief in and around the village while Red was practically the devil on your shoulder, egging you on to stir the pot. The lycans were particularly enjoyable to taunt.

Regardless of everything, you couldn’t see yourself without Red and to lose them would crush you. There had been one too many nights when you’d chat about everything and nothing until you fell asleep curled up underneath your wings.

That was when you felt a protective wing curl around you, one that wasn’t your own.

“Always gotta fall asleep on me don’t you, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll have you partying all night before you know it kiddo.”

Alcina Dimitrescu

It started out as a stupid dare when Red dared you to sneak into Castle Dimitrescu and steal the Lady’s lipstick after hearing the village gossip that it was expensive.

You did not expect however to get caught in the hallway, starting straight up into the eyes of Alcina Dimitrescu, a stuttering and blushing mess. It was something that Red would tease you for until eternity ended.

After winning her favour, both you and Red were invited to stay in the Castle with Alcina and her daughters. She thought you were much better company than her brother and her affluent but gothic lifestyle totally appealed to you.

As it turns out you and Alcina had a lot more in common, both being creatures of a supernatural nature. You enjoyed the lazy afternoons curled up on the couch, a glass of maidens blood in your hand as she gentle stroked the back of her hand against your wings.

You had the finest outfits that matched your black wings perfectly and everything was tailor made so you were comfortable.

Red taught you how to fly so you were able to use your wings to be at eye level with Alcina which was perfect for hugs and kisses.

It turns out that Red is a great babysitter for the girls and keeps them entertained with hunting maidens and chasing them around the Castle while you and Alcina can spend some time together.

Donna Beneveinto

At first, Donna is truly scared of you and Red much like how you were in the beginning. But eventually, with the help of Angie she saw that you were not going to harm her.

You loved to spend time with Donna and watch her make her dolls or sew her dresses. Sometimes Red will come back with Angie from a day of causing trouble to find you reading to her another encyclopaedia of plants. Her head is resting on your chest and your wings are wrapped around her protectively while you read.

Your favourite thing to do together is to take Donna into your arms and fly to the top of the mountain where the waterfall begins and watch the sunset together. She’ll always have a deathly grip on your hand the whole time even though you’ve reassured her that you’d never drop her.

One time when you leaned in and gave her a kiss, a rather loud noise was heard from the corner and interrupted you.

“EWWW you guys are too cute!! All that lovey-dovey stuff makes me sick!”

Red is standing to the side with Angie on their shoulder who is sitting there making her own dramatic faces. One of Angie’s wooden hands covers Red’s eyes while the other is held on her forehead as if the kiss was enough to kill her.

Besides from their comment both Angie and Red act like your wing man for your relationship with Donna. They absolutely love you two together and have set up many dates for the two of you.

Salvatore Moreau

You meet Salvatore Moreau one day when you’re at the reservoir playing hide and seek in the near by mines with Red.

As it’s your turn to hide you end up ducking between some planks to find a tv set up and a small couch. Sitting in the middle of it happens to be someone you now know as Sal.

He thought you were going to kill him at first, hiding his face in his hands but very slowly after some months he saw that you weren’t a threat.

Over this time trying to convince Sal that you weren’t going to hurt him and trying to spend more time with him, Red took the opportunity to tease you for your crush.

“I think someone’s in got a little crush hmm??”

Eventually you become very close with Sal and the two of you will playfully chase each other at the reservoir. Sal will swim just below the surface while you fly just above it and your fingers brush together just where the water meets the air.

One time when you were chasing Red around the rooftops of the old village, you slipped and fell into the water, something that your large feathery wings did not enjoy and Red had to pull you out.

You ended up bundled on the couch with Sal, a bunch of blankets around you as your wings dried out. It took forever and you ended up a giant bundle of fluffy feathers but Sal thought you looked adorable.

Karl Heisenberg

Karl caught you and Red taunting the lycans when he went to check on them at their den one day. At the site of you two he raised an eyebrow and proceeded to light a cigar.

“I think you two may be lost, don’t you know it’s dangerous out here?”

You can hear the sarcasm in his voice and you spread your wings out to be intimidating, Red’s black mist behind you adding to it.

“Indeed it is very dangerous out here, I’d hate for you to get hurt.”

It was then when the three of you burst into a fit of laughter knowing that you were the strongest creatures in these woods and nothing could really hurt either of you.

Both you and Karl had a mischievous side and spent a lot of time causing trouble for his sister in her Castle.

It was fun to spend time with Karl and you both grew rather close. He even trusted you enough to let you help him on some of his plans and designs.

Red was particularly fond of the idea of killing Mother Miranda.

“Ooh when she’s gone can I have my picture put back up?! Pretty please!”

Karl designed his soldats with a red glowing chest plate that reminded him of your red glowing eyes which now matched Red’s.

While Karl will deny it forever, he’s completely in awe of you and finds you absolutely breathtaking. He can’t get over how soft your wings are and always cuddles up to you complaining that it’s cold even though it’s sweltering hot in the factory.

One day Karl took you by surprise and kissed you gently but with a degree of confidence which took him months to find. You melted into him and wrapped your arms around him securely, completely forgetting Red who’s hovering in the room.

“Guys I hate to break it to you but I’m kinda third wheeling here…”

Needless to say, Red third wheeled a lot and ended up befriend Sturm as an alternative to watching you guys make out.

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau #salvatore moreau x reader #resident evil village #resident evil headcanons #resident evil 8 #resident evil #asks #prompt

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ihatebnha · 4 years ago

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A long while ago on another blog there was talk about Shigaraki looking up porn where the girls look like reader. That idea is just 👌👌👌 Can't help but go back to Bakugou. Him having saved all these videos where the girls happen to look like you? And the bakusquad finds them by mistake one day?

i’m soososososoosooooooooo sorry this took so long!!! i really wanted to do a good job since i absolutely LOVE the idea... but then i got intimidated and put it off....

excuses aside, I hope you enjoy!!!!!

You are nothing like the pictures, nothing like the videos. He likes to think that you’re better, but truly, what does he know?

Bakugo likes to think of himself as a winner. As someone who gets what they want, takes what they want, wins over what they want… but for some reason, you elude him.

Your laughter, your smile, your body, even the way you talk, all some mystical illusion he cannot seem to explain, left to wonder why he hasn’t worked up the nerve to ask you out, despite the brave front he so often puts up. Still, he can’t explain why you cause his pants to tent every time he thinks of you in the privacy of his room, or cause him to spend money on girls he doesn’t know but pretends that he does, girls that he pretends are you.

It doesn’t matter to him how you dress or how you style you hair as he can say he really does love you for your personality. But a smile never got anyone through a lonely night, much less the benign image of you from afar in your school uniform, talking to your friends as you always do.

It started off slowly at first, imagining you holding his hands, studying with him, even helping him train, before pulling off your jacket to reveal little, tiny camisoles…

But then the daydreams started getting dirty, raunchy; from domestic activities that made his cheeks flare to visions of you doing more than just laying underneath him after sparring. Visions of you in the locker room after hours, of you in the shower, things that Bakugo could never vocalize lest his heart explode or reveal itself to everyone he knows.

Still, the thoughts were exciting, taboo… especially when he found himself rubbing his dick to them all, ripping off his pants to recordings of your voicemail, jizzing during all the interviews he downloaded of you after battle, hair tangled, body sweaty, silently wishing it was him who did that to you…

Still, it was an accident the first time Bakugo stumbled across a photo of some girl who looked like you, all doe-eyed and half naked on some new porn site… but it was such that he was pleasantly surprised when he found it was hard to think of anyone else… and when he did begin to pretend it was you… well, that’s another story.

One that only had one conclusion.

Of course, he was ashamed at first, fucking his fist like a rabid dog to the sight of people he didn’t know, not that he wasn’t before, but to the embarrassing idea that it was it was you on the screen rather than anyone else, the idea of ravaging and defiling you at the forefront of his mind, even if it was just a dream.

But then it got easier to imagine, easier to pretend, especially as the two of you got closer, the illusion of sharing sexual relations no longer that far fetched. Even if his longing was a secret that he would die with, Bakugo would do anything for you, including cum all over himself pretending that the girls he watched were you riding him, you sitting on his face, your hand around his cock, you, you, you…

That’s all he needs, and he’d do anything.

Which he signs up for that new website in the first place, subscribing only to girls with your features.

Even if he knows the real thing would be better.

Denki knows that Bakugo pays for porn.

They haven’t ever really talked about it… but still, he knows.

It’s not really all that hard to guess if Bakugo’s personality is anything to go by. Anyone who even remotely thought about it could figure out that a guy of his caliber wants only the best… and whether that be in person or online, money and time is one way to ensure quality, besides the fact that he is always complaining of even the slightest of disappointments.

Which is why Denki knows; because even though he’s an idiot, he’s also a friend, and a fiendishly perverted one at that… So when he saw the app on Bakugo’s phone, he didn’t have to guess what that meant.

And surely, Bakugo wouldn’t mind if he borrowed the account… after all, Denki already does him a favor by charging his phone in the first place.

He laughs nervously typing in the password, his fingers itching against the cold plastic of the phone case as he waits on the edge of his seat for a mere glimpse at Bakugo’s sexual preferences.

The screen buffers for a long three seconds, before image after image pops up as the page automatically refreshes, Denki’s heart nearly beating out of his chest at the sight.

Almost giddy, Denki cannot pull his eyes away from the sight of girls in bikinis and aprons and platform boots, as though he’s a kid at the candy store… Bakugo’s candy store, no less, revealing of his deepest desires, the swimming pool that is his mind, containing secrets that have never crossed his lips.

At least, not in the form of words.

The first image Denki stops on is a pretty girl in a bikini, hair tousled with oil, skin glistening in the sun. Her body is perfect, tame but sexy, and he can’t stop himself from hitting like.

The next photo seems slightly similar, of another girl with familiar, pretty features, though this time, she is not next to a pool but in a bedroom, eyes glazed over at the camera as though she is looking into his soul.

And looking at the third photo, and then the forth and fifth, all of interchangeable girls in varying costumes…. Denki knows why.

Still bubbling with giggles, he scrolls through the mixture of videos and images, every single one of them with something in common… The skin, the hair, the look in these girls eyes…

It’s you.

Well, not actually you… but it’s close enough.

The same skin, the same done-up hair, decorated in clothing, he, and surely Bakugo, could only dream of seeing you in, body highlighted in your favorite colors (which he knows because of the cute pencil case you carry around), and posed in the most provocative of ways.

Staring at the photos, each image a variation of the one previous, it’s not like Denki should really be all that surprised… it’s just weird to see it all laid out and finally confirmed, besides the point of how erotic the whole thing truly is.

Everyone knows Bakugo has a fat crush on you. He can’t keep his mouth closed to save his life, no story sacred enough to even try, and still, Denki feels like he’s discovered a secret he wasn’t meant to know.

A treasure trove filled with pictures of girls who aren’t you but could be, girls who tell a story so obvious that even he doesn’t have to imagine how, or what, Bakugo dreams about you late at night.

And frankly, he can see why.

Already unzipping his jeans, he texts Kirishima.

What a dream you are, finally his.

Bakugo was right. You’re nothing like the pictures, nothing like the videos, either…

You are better, he finds, though it’s not really like he’s surprised.

It’s why he cannot take his hands off of you. Off your tits, your waist, your hips; smoothing over the curves and dips of your body until you’re squirming, burning the feel of your flesh into his brain so he never, ever forgets what touching you feels like.

You moan for him, too, and that is something that is unlike all the stupid websites. Your voice is a newly found constant that no other girl can replicate, your responsiveness to him, as well, his hands, his tongue, unlike any picture or prerecorded video, either, now that he knows that the fakes are just not quite enough…

He realizes that there was never really a comparison… but it’s not like he has to worry about the difference now, deleting his profile off of the fucking site the minute you agreed to a date. It was a dream come true if not more than what he could’ve asked during all those nights he looked at other girls and pretended it was you posing on his lap, pretended it was you teasing him with panty shots of the lingerie and bikinis he’d buy you, and that he was the one who could stand next to you when you wore it all.

A sight he thinks no one else should be allowed to see… despite how much he would’ve done, did, to get to this point…

And he wishes he could tell you, every night when he’s beating your guts, pressing your thighs against your chest, his mouth against your drippy, drooling cunt, how much he loves you, how big the fire is that you light in his loins… and yet he knows he’ll never be able to express what you do to him, his body, his cock…

Even when Denki and Kirishima tease him in front of you, even though he’s sure that you already know.

There is nothing, no one, like you.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo #caitie post #i really do hope this is okay #its been a long time coming lol #i had more to say but im tired so i forgot #ask #anon #Anonymous

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years ago

Text

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body.

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm.

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered.

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.”

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?”

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.”

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.”

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month.

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair.

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly.

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.”

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head.

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.” Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.”

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.”

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.”

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die.

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room.

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground.

“Who is it?” You asked.

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered.

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.”

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled.

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.”

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.”

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.”

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.”

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.”

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?”

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.”

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom.

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well.

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #will graham x you #hannibal x will #hannibal x you x will #hannibal x reader x will #will graham x reader #will graham #the sommelier #hannigram #hannigram x you #hannigram x reader #aftercare #fluff #freddie lounds

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accioxreparo · 4 years ago

Text

entranced | f.w.

synopsis: Fred finds himself taking a different approach to get your attention. Little does he know he already has it.

pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

warnings: none!

a/n: This idea is straight from the discord chat earlier with my babes! This concept is honestly so amazing and completely inspired by @levylovegood and also this picture so hopefully I did it justice 😭💖

The Gryffindor table was uncharacteristically silent as Fred Weasley approached late for breakfast. That was typical though. More often than not he was rushing in right before classes started and just as quickly rushing back out.

What was unusual though, and the source of everybody’s shock, was the pair of glasses framing his face. Glasses he didn’t need. Glasses nobody was sure even belonged to him.

“What?” Fred barely acknowledged them as he started putting food on his plate. “What’s with the staring?”

“What’s with -” Ginny let out a heavy sigh as she shared a glance with her siblings, every one of which was just as confused as she was. “What are you wearing those for?”

“Wearing what for?”

“Those obviously!” George reached across the table and flicked the frame of the glasses, skewing them sideways on Fred’s face. He ducked out of the way before he could retaliate. “Didn’t even know you owned any glasses.”

“Well I do,” Fred answered easily. Now that he was looking up he couldn’t help himself. His eyes scanned the Great Hall until he found you hunched over a book and scribbling something on some parchment.

“Well yeah but what for?” Ron frowned through a mouthful of food.

“To see, Ronniekins,” Fred looked away from you quickly when you glanced up abruptly, almost immediately looking right at him. “That’s what most people use them for.”

“Yeah but that’s not what you need them for,” Ron was oblivious to the fact that Fred wasn’t paying him any attention. His gaze had gone back to you the second you went back to your reading. “Think one of us would’ve noticed if you really needed them.”

“Spill it,” Ginny leaned forward while narrowing her eyes. “I can almost guarantee you didn’t own those before last night. Now why do you need them?”

“Need what?”

A groan resounded between the three siblings, each of them coming to the realization that Fred was paying absolutely zero attention to their conversation.

“Okay new question,” George kicked Fred underneath the table, forcing him to look their way again. “What’s got you so -”

But before he could get the question all the way out Fred threw back his goblet of pumpkin juice and practically tripped over himself getting up from the table. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Well that was something.” Ron shook his head, staring at the empty spot his brother had just left.

Ginny nodded towards the entrance of the Great Hall where Fred had stopped, apparently finding one of the suits of armor very interesting. “Look at that.”

“Makes sense now,” George only shook his head as the three of them watched Fred wait a few seconds after you had left the Great Hall to follow you. “McGonagall changed our seats in Transfiguration the other day and since then our dear Freddie’s been infatuated with none other than Y/N Y/L/N. Has a perfect view of her from where he sits now.”

“You’re kidding,” Ron couldn’t help but scoff at the revelation. “She’s top of her class, always in the library. There’s no way she’d even give Fred the time of day.”

“Maybe that’s why he likes her,” Ginny shrugged, going back to her own breakfast. “Or why he’s intrigued at the very least.”

George hummed before a smirk flashed on his face, leaning in towards his younger siblings a little more. “Place your bets, kids. Do we think Fred’s little glasses plan is going to work or not?”

You tried your hardest not to stare, you really did.

Of course you’d noticed Fred Weasley of all people hanging around you for the past week or so, who wouldn’t? The fact that he happened to go out of his way a little to talk to you meant absolutely nothing at all though, you’d convinced yourself of that. Especially not when you knew you’d stuttered through practically every conversation you’d had with him so far.

Finally you thought maybe, just maybe, you were getting somewhere. Maybe you could work up the courage to say more than a few words to him next time you spoke. But then you caught sight of the glasses sitting comfortably on the bridge of Fred’s nose. They framed his face perfectly and it really wasn’t fair how they somehow made his eyes shine more than they usually did.

Any kind of coherent thought you were able to form left your brain when you laid eyes on him from across the classroom.

This really wasn’t you. You were smart, you knew that for a fact. Sure you mostly kept to yourself but there wasn’t a single time you hadn’t been able to think of a quick comeback, even if it was only muttered to yourself underneath your breath. That was how all of this had started after all.

He’d overheard a particularly hilarious quip during Potions one day and his burst of laughter had earned him a detention. He had promised you he didn’t mind when you fumbled your way through a quick apology the next day.

Now, though, you were speechless at the mere sight of him because how was it possible for one human to look that good? It didn’t help that you quite literally had the perfect view of him from across the transfiguration room. You weren’t sure how you hadn’t noticed him in his glasses before. Had he even worn them before?

Just as you were about to search your memories for any kind of recollection of Fred and his glasses you were interrupted. It was then you realized that you were openly staring at him, and apparently not very subtly.

“Would you like to tell the class what it is you find so interesting, Miss Y/L/N?”

You weren’t sure how long Professor McGonagall had been standing there or what answer she expected of you. Before you could say anything she turned around and took a few steps, effectively blocking your site of the very person you’d been distracted by.

“What about you, Mr. Weasley? You seem to be just as distracted.”

Fred, for once, seemed to also be at a loss for words. He’d barely managed to blink owlishly and start with the beginning of an excuse before he was shushed again. McGonagall looked between the two of you for a moment before pursing her lips. “Detention tonight, both of you.”

Frankly, you were too scared to argue. So instead you turned back towards the very thing that had been the cause of your distraction only to find him already looking at you. You could feel the heat rush to your face when Fred offered you a smile as he pushed the glasses up his face a little and mouthed, this should be fun.

Much to your surprise, you were in fact not the first one to reach the transfiguration room at exactly seven o’clock that night. Fred pushed himself off the wall immediately upon seeing you walking his way, a look on his face you couldn’t quite read.

“And here I was thinking you were going to ditch me.”

“I think,” You gulped as you looked anywhere but at him. He was still wearing his glasses and you were positive you’d get distracted again if you looked at him for too long. “I think I’d just get another detention if I did that.”

Fred, on the other hand, was looking right at you with a small smile playing on his lips. This detention was more than worth it in his eyes, especially if it meant getting to spend an hour alone with you. Well almost alone anyway. You were fidgeting a little too much though, something he noticed rather easily. “Is this your first one?”

“First what?”

“Detention.”

You frowned then, stopping your nervous movements and looking up at his towering figure. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know really,” Fred shrugged and couldn’t but smile at the sight of you looking at him curiously, head tipped to the side and arms crossed in front of you. “Maybe it’s just cause you’re always so quiet.” The memory of you cursing at Snape under your breath a couple weeks ago made him laugh suddenly. “You do have a mouth on you, though, don’t you?”

You knew what he was referring to immediately and a flush spread across your face once more. “I’m sorry about that, again”

“Don’t worry about it,” Fred leaned against the wall again and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. “So is it?”

“No,” With a sigh you followed his movements and sat down cross legged next to him. “Though I guarantee my reasons probably aren’t as fun as yours.”

“Try me,” Fred turned then so he was facing you, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. “You first.”

Slowly your nerves started fading away. Your gaze however stayed focused on the wall in front of you. “Fine, One was for ditching History of Magic to read in one of the broom cupboards.”

“Well aren’t you a little rebel.”

“Oh always,” That comment made you laugh. You could hear the grin in his voice and finally worked up the nerve to look at him, trying your hardest to focus on the conversation and not on the way his school robes had been abandoned and the sleeves of his button up shirt rolled up his arms. “Now your turn.”

Talking to Fred came easier than you thought it would. A couple well timed jokes had you relaxing completely and soon enough the two of you were laughing together right there, sitting on the floor in a random hallway.

The reason behind you being there had slipped your mind completely. That is until you noticed Professor McGonagall walking down the hallway. Both of you scrambled up from the floor, simultaneously recalling the fact that you had detention.

“Professor,” You nodded and quickly straightened out your clothes.

Fred, meanwhile, gave a smirk as he leaned against the wall once more. “You know I think we ought to give you detention for keeping us waiting, Professor.”

“Did neither of you get my owl?” McGonagall ignored the comment as she moved to unlock the door to her office.

You turned to look at Fred, both of you sharing a confused look. “Owl?”

“Your detention was cancelled,” Once the door was unlocked she stood in the doorway and glanced between the two of you. You didn’t miss the ghost of a smile that flashed on her face. “Though I suppose it’s just as well. The two of you two certainly got to know each other better. Perhaps you can now find it in yourselves to keep the staring to a minimum in my class.”

Then without another word she walked into the room and shut the door behind her.

Your stare was blank as you glanced quickly between the office, Fred, and the spot Professor McGonagall once stood. “Did she -”

Fred chuckled again and followed as you started walking down the hallway towards your common room. “Did she what? Trick us into going on a first date? I think so.”

You weren’t able to keep the grin off your face as you shook your head a little. “It was not a first date. It was talking.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“Well in that case how about this weekend? We can try not to get ourselves another detention while sneaking out to Hogsmeade.” Fred stopped when you did and couldn’t help but notice the surprised look on your face, one that faded quickly. “How about it?”

“I’ll agree if you tell me one thing, first.” You challenged, eyes narrowing and arms crossing as you stared directly at him for the first time.

“Anything.” Fred’s answer was just as confident.

Your eyes flickered across his face, taking in the sight of him wearing those glasses just as you had earlier. “You’ve never worn those before have you?”

A beat passed and Fred knew he’d been caught. You could see right through him. “Yes I have.”

“No you haven’t,” Your arms fell to your sides, being able to see his hesitation clearly. “I’d remember.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you look good in them.”

“Do I?” Fred chuckled when your eyes widened at your own comment. One you evidently you hadn’t meant to actually tell him. “Since we’re confessing I suppose I should tell you that you’re right.”

“I knew it!” You were quick to respond and nod in satisfaction. “What are you wearing those for then?”

For a moment Fred only looked at you. This wasn’t where he’d seen his day going. Maybe some more pining, wondering if you’d noticed him at all. Now that he was here beside you, both of you apparently smitten enough with each other for one of your professors to meddle, he was ecstatic. “I’ll tell you but you’re not allowed to laugh at me.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“Fine,” Fred started walking down the hall again but stayed focused on you to see what your reaction would be. “I thought they’d make you notice me more since you always seemed to be avoiding me.”

You tried not to smile, you really did. But the corners of your mouth started turning upwards and Fred stopped again, not being able to resist grinning along with you. “You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“I’m not!” A laugh really did escape you then and you quickly put a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. You looked up at him then, a little more serious. “I swear I’m not laughing at you. I just think it’s cute.”

“Well I’m glad you think so cause I quite like these. Think I look rather dashing.” Fred pushed the glasses up a little bit from where they’d slipped and smirked. “And apparently you agree since the whole reason we’re here is your staring.”

“Hey, both of us were staring, thank you very much.”

“Well I couldn’t help myself, darling. You’re entrancing, you know.”

“Entrancing,” You repeated the word and your grin softened, looking away as butterflies formed in your stomach. “Is that right?”

“It is,” Fred gave a firm nod, giving you no room to argue. “You’re beautiful, love, you must know that.”

When you dared to look at him he was smiling at you, a completely genuine sparkle in his eyes as he looked only at you. You weren’t sure yet what the warm feeling that erupted in your chest and fluttered through your body at the sight of his gaze trained on you was. He was looking at you like you were the world and it overwhelmed you with emotions you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Fred on the other hand? You were positive he was definitely somebody you could get used to. Him and his smile that never faded. Him and his laugh that was practically infectious. Him and his eyes that were full of life, showed you entire worlds, and sat behind a pair of glasses he didn’t need.

“Thank you,” You couldn’t help but beam back at him, a flash of confidence suddenly coursing through your veins. “So are you.”

#wow this is so soft I just -#fred weasley x reader #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #harry potter one shot #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fic #hp fanfic #hp fic #hp imagine #hp series #my fics #entranced

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devythebaddie · 2 years ago

Text

Give 'Em Hell (a Hangman x reader story) - Chapter 2: Despair and Desire

Link to Chapter 1: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/devythebaddie/687899562327851008?source=share

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Tori couldn’t shake her dad’s words. The funeral was fifteen minutes away, yet she couldn’t think about anything other than the possibility of going back to Top Gun. This “special detachment” that Iceman had explained seemed more like a suicide mission than anything, and Victoria was supposed to have months left of paid leave due to her fiancé’s tragedy. Yet she knew she had to go back. Victoria Kazansky wasn’t arrogant, but she knew that she was one of the best pilots out there, and whoever made up the flight team was going to need her.

“Ready, Tor?” Rooster asked quietly, his arm outstretched for her to hold on to. She nodded, not ready to speak, and walked with him through the doors out to the site of the funeral. The second her eyes caught the first banner, she nearly fell over. Jeffrey’s face was everywhere. His eyes staring into hers from every direction. And when she saw his mom, his dad, his younger brother…Tori wanted to run away. Bradley noticed this, and leaned down towards her ear.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Nobody blames you. Just hold on to me and let’s find our seats.”

Victoria had never been more thankful for Bradley Bradshaw than in that moment, and when her father walked out through the doors and gave her the most solemn of smiles, she squeezed Bradley’s hand before going over to hug her father.

“Tori, honey-” Her eyes welled up with tears before he even finished saying her name. Tori knew it was hard for her dad to speak, and just hearing his now-broken voice made her want to cry. But she knew she couldn’t cry yet. She was Victoria “Stony” Kazansky. Daughter of Iceman. She couldn’t. Freaking. Cry.

“I love you, Dad,” she said, kissing the man on his cheek. He repeated the sentiment and walked with her back to their first-row seats, where Bradley greeted the admiral and Tori’s mom, who had been a few paces behind her husband and daughter but caught up with them after their tearful greeting.

Tori blankly stared through the rest of the funeral. People spoke, people cried, people gave her their condolences, but she didn’t feel anything. She was pretty much numb. Once Bradley realized what was going on, he knelt down in front of her and offered to take her home.

“I can’t just leave in the middle of my fiancé’s funeral,” she whispered.

“Of course you can,” Bradley took her hand and the two stood up. “Everyone will understand, I promise. Just say a quick goodbye to a few people, ‘kay?”

Victoria nodded, once again grateful for her lifelong best friend. She did what he said to do, saying goodbye to a few admirals, Jeffrey’s family, and her parents before driving home with Rooster.

She wanted to just spend the rest of the day in bed, get some takeout, and watch TV, but Bradley wouldn’t let her.

“Tori, you have been cooped up inside your apartment for weeks. You have to get out. I never said you had to have fun, but at least get out of the house!” Bradley said, loudly crashing into who knows what in her closet. “Listen, you heard what your dad said earlier - everyone who’s being considered for this ‘special detachment’ got a call today, which means that there’s gonna be a whole lot of people at the Hard Deck tonight. All you have to do is show up, say hi to some people, drink a few beers or margaritas or whatever the hell you want, and listen to me play Great Balls of Fire at least once. Throw a little pool in there, and you’ve got yourself a great night! But, I know how hard today’s been for you. If you really don’t want to go, we don’t have to. I just think this might help, and I don’t even care if we only stay there for two hours; I just want to see you happy again.”

Victoria really didn’t want to leave the house, but she could see how much Rooster cared, so she decided to go.

“Yes!” Rooster smiled. “I promise you won’t regret this!”

Tori, on the other hand, was absolutely sure that she would.

Bradley opened the passenger seat door to his prized blue truck and Victoria smiled at the man’s simple act of chivalry. She let out a sigh as she sat down, smoothed down the legs of her black skinny jeans, and tucked in her red spaghetti strap tank top, slightly regretting her decision to let Bradley pick out an outfit for her. She couldn’t lie, there were worse options, but the high heels she wore may have taken things a bit far.

“Hey, you look great,” Rooster reassured her as he started the car. She laughed and tapped on the dash, her signal for the aviator to start driving.

As the pair pulled up in front of the bar, Tori froze. She could feel the excitement inside the Hard Deck from even outside, and she worried about how she would keep up with it as the night went on. Not wanting Bradley to have to give her another talk, she pulled it together, grabbing her purse and jacket as the mustached man opened the door for her. Victoria only then noticed what he was wearing. She smiled as she recognized Goose’s old Hawaiian t-shirt over Bradley’s white tank, remarking the resemblance between the father and son.

The first people Tori recognized in the bar were Penny Benjamin, the owner, and Pete Mitchell - Bradley’s estranged godfather/Iceman’s best friend - who was sitting directly across from her. Victoria had spent some time with the pair in her younger years, and she was happy to see that they were back together. Pete made Penny happy, and vice versa; Victoria’s only hope was that the captain had the sense to stay with Penny this time. Then she noticed a sea of khaki. There were at least ten aviators standing by the pool table, including one of Bradley’s best friends (and a potential love interest), Phoenix, someone Tori admired. There were so few female pilots, so she and Natasha had a close bond. After saying hi to Penny (Bradley made sure to avoid Maverick), the pair made their way over to the rest of the naval aviators.

Phoenix beamed when she saw them.

“Bradshaw? This is how I find out you’re in town?” She hugged him and Tori, then introduced the aviators around her. Victoria recognized the callsigns: Coyote, Payback, Fanboy, Bob. Her brief interaction with the group was cut short as one more pilot called out Rooster’s name.

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.”

The two made a bit of small talk until the blond aviator noticed Victoria.

“Bradshaw’s girlfriend,” He mimed tipping a hat in her direction.

“I’m not his girlfriend. Should be more worried about her.” Tori smiled and pointed towards Phoenix, who was happily conversing with the brunette.

“As long as you’re available.” Hangman winked at the female pilot and she was a bit shocked by his forwardness. Victoria had heard of him and his…way with women, but she’d yet to experience it.

“Slow down there, tiger. I may be single, but very recently so; I’m not looking at the moment.” Tori hadn’t been planning on talking about her late fiancé, but the reality was that his funeral had only been that morning, and there was no way she was ready to move on yet. Luckily, Hangman noticed her discomfort and lightly addressed it.

“You’re Tori Kazansky, aren’t you? Phantom’s fiancée?” he asked softly. “I was at the funeral. I’m so sorry. I knew him; he was a great man.”

“He was,” Victoria agreed. “But he wouldn’t want me to be stuck in the past like I’ve been for the last few weeks. You down for a game of pool?”

“Hell yeah. But I’ll have to warn you that once you see this-“ He gestured to himself and the pool table. “You’ll be wanting to spend a lot less time with Bradshaw over there.”

His tone was slightly flirtatious, but she could tell by his vaguely Southern accent that it was only natural, and she somehow knew he wouldn’t go too far.

Jake Seresin hadn’t been lying about his pool skills; he was good. But not better than Victoria Kazansky, that was for damn sure.

“Wow, you’re good,” he admitted. “Play a lot of pool with your dad?”

“Yeah, actually.” She smiled at the memories of pool games that lasted so long that her mom, Sarah, would come down and force them to put down the sticks, tournaments that always ended in ties. Tori and her dad were very close, him being one of the few people she didn’t shut out after Jeffrey’s death. She ended up talking to Hangman much longer than she intended, so long that Phoenix raised her eyebrows and gave her a look once Tori walked back over to her. At the same time, a few aviators - including Hangman - threw Maverick out, and Bradley naturally decided to play Great Balls of Fire on the piano. The night ended up being much more fun than Victoria had ever expected.

By the time the pair got back to Rooster’s car, they’d only had a few beers each, but due to the training they had in the morning, they knew better than to get wasted. Tori now had Hangman’s number, though, and she intended to put it to good use. She was looking down at her phone and thinking about her time with the aviator when Bradley seemingly read her mind.

“So, you and Hangman, huh?”

“So, you and Phoenix, huh?” Tori mocked his tone and he held up his hands in surrender.

“Fine. Just do me a favor,” He bit his lip. “Take it slow, please. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt.”

Normally, Victoria would counter him with a lecture about how she could take care of herself, thank you very much, but hearing the concern in his voice, she let it go.

“Of course. I promise.”

#hangman top gun #jake hangman seresin #top gun: maverick #hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #top gun maverick #jake seresin #hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun

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titan-fodder · 4 years ago

Text

Prima Vista Part IX

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 14.3k

Warnings: timeskip, mutual pining, author doesn’t know shit about science subject matter, explicit sexual content, ass play, snowballing, tooth rotting fluff A/N: This is it, y’all. This last part was so much fun to write, I can’t even put it into words. The feedback on this has been incredible, so a big thank you for that, and before anyone asks, I have a handful of spinoff oneshots planned for this series. Enjoy~

- NINE YEARS -

“Hey, don’t forget about the meeting at three.”

Mike glances up from his computer to find Henning leaning through his office doorway. It’s the first time Mike has looked away from the screen in at least an hour, and he blinks at his colleague several times in an attempt to get rid of the gritty feeling in his eyes.

“Yeah, thanks,” he nods, rubbing a hand down his face. “Definitely would’ve forgotten about that one.”

Henning leaves with one rap of his knuckles against the doorframe, and Mike checks his phone to see how much time he has before he has to make his way to the conference room. It’s twenty after two, so he spends a little while longer reading over the journal that had been sent to him, only tearing himself away when his alarm goes off at 2:55.

He waves at a few people as he passes, shows the reserved smile he’d mastered upon entering the corporate world, then walks into the large meeting space and sets his little notepad on the mahogany table as he sits down in a plush rolling chair.

This meeting has been planned for a few weeks now, a team of researchers contracted by the government to study Lake Sina and everything wrong with it. Its water quality is at an all time low, and it's up to Mike and his team to figure out a way to change that so it can be purified enough to distribute to the public. There are a few large cities close to the lake, all of lower income and all struggling with their water systems. If Sina can get clean enough, it would solve a huge crisis that most people don't even know is taking place.

Tomas, Henning, Lynne, and Nanaba are already in the room, and after a few minutes, another group of four walks in, all unfamiliar except…

Mike’s eyebrows knit together as he stares. He can only see a profile from where he’s sitting, but it’s one he recognizes. The time he spent admiring it, mentally sketching every feature—of course he’d recognize it. Recognize you.

There is a pounding in his chest that Mike hasn’t felt in years, and his palms are suddenly damp. The collar of his shirt is too tight around his throat, and he reaches up to undo the top two buttons so that he can fucking breathe, but Jesus Christ, he can’t believe it. It feels like a lifetime has passed since he last saw you.

He wonders if you’ll have the same reaction when you finally notice him, if you’ll gawk at him or grin or run away. He wouldn’t blame you if you tucked tail. That last conversation—if it could even be called that—is not one of Mike’s fondest memories, and he can’t imagine the toll it took on you, what you must have felt going into your final year of undergrad.

“Is there a remote for the projector?” You call out to the table, and your voice sounds exactly the fucking same. It makes Mike want to slam his head into the wood, but before he can, you zero in on him.

He watches as your eyes grow, jaw setting, shoulders rising with a deep breath, and oh, you’re panicking. You’re panicking just like he is.

“Um,” you cough and shake your head, then lean over to speak to one of your people before basically jogging from the room.

No one seems to think anything of it. Mike has to white-knuckle the arms of his chair to keep himself from getting up and following. There's no reason he should follow, though. The two of you haven’t spoken in almost a decade. He has nothing to share with you, no reason to talk to you on a non-professional level. You don’t know each other anymore, and that’s fine. It’ll be fine.

A mousy looking man starts passing out little binders to everyone at the table, then introduces himself as Moblit and the other two in the room as Hange and Abel.

"And, the other girl you saw is—"

"I'm back, I'm here," you announce as you step into the room, closing the door behind you and introducing yourself with a wave. "Did we get the projector working?"

"Yes," Abel answers, passing you the remote that Nanaba had procured a few minutes ago.

Hange plugs a cable into a laptop and the white screen is lit up with the image of the well known lake, once beautiful, deep blue but now a murky brown.

Mike has been preparing for this project for a few months now, going to an off-site lab to look over the samples being sent in or dropped off. He knew there was a research team studying the lake, but… what are the odds that you would be part of that team?

He supposes your jobs could overlap just like your classes used to, but you had told him you wanted to go into natural hazards ("You're a natural hazard," he had replied with a snort). Of course, that had been a long time ago, but how had that dream morphed into hydrology?

Before the presentation starts, Mike's boss, Keith Shadis slips through the door and takes his seat at the end of the table. You're quick to grab one of the binders and walk it over to him, flashing a smile and never letting your gaze flit to Mike.

Hange does most of the talking, going over all of your findings while all of you "braved the wilderness". Moblit and Abel insert a few things here and there, and then Hange clicks to a slide with a graph on it and hands the remote to you.

"If you turn to page seventeen in the binders, you can probably get a better look, but this shows how much the level of pollution in Lake Sina has risen in the last year alone. We took samples over…"

You keep talking, but Mike loses his focus, watching your hands move as you speak, the way you're rocking back on your heels, and how you look anywhere but at him.

Even though there's a tiny tremble in your voice, you sound passionate, and why wouldn't you be? Mike is passionate too. About the same god damn thing.

With a PhD in environmental science, his specialty is pollutants. It's something he's been interested in since grad school because the earth is beautiful but in an awful state, and Mike wants to fucking change that. He's written journals and articles, worked with leading experts, and it's what he's decided to dedicate himself to, so why is it that this life that he's built for himself is suddenly intermingling with yours? How—

A hand comes to rest on Mike's and he startles at the touch, jerking his head upward to see Lynne with raised eyebrows.

"Mike, I get why you're lost in the pollution sauce, but if you click that pen one more time, I will throw you out of this high-rise."

He stares at her for a second before chuckling and tossing his pen onto his blank notebook. He hadn't even realized he'd been doing it. It's a little embarrassing, actually. How many people noticed? Did you?

The presentation ends with Hange telling everyone that they're happy to be teaming up with the Corporation to work toward a solution and a plan to clean Lake Sina and possibly implement it into larger bodies of water.

The planning stage of the project will more than likely last for a few months, meaning you'll all be regulars in the office which Mike isn't especially thrilled about, even if you will be sequestered in a little annex and spending a lot of your time in the lab. Mike will still have to see you and work with your team, god, probably have to talk to you.

The floor opens up for any questions, but Shadis is the only one who speaks, wanting clarification on some statistic that Mike is going to have to read over later. Once the boss is happy, he stands, then walks behind Mike's chair to slap him on the back and say the last thing Mike wants to hear.

"This is Dr. Mike Zacharias. All of you should get familiar with him since he'll be heading this project."

Mike sits up a little straighter and forces a tight-lipped smile that all of his colleagues know is fake.

"Happy to be working with you."

It isn't a lie. He's been excited about this project for a long time now. He just wasn't expecting such a massive wrench to get thrown right into the middle of it.

The four of you start packing up your materials. When Henning tries to hand you his binder, you tell him, "No, those are for you to keep. Just to get a real grasp on what we found out there."

Mike knows he's staring, swiveling back and forth in his chair, twirling the pen he's picked up again, and he wonders if it would just be easier to rip the bandaid off. Exchange hellos, go over the bare minimum—how long he's been with the company, how long you've been researching. Just enough to appear casual, like you didn't break Mike's fucking heart in college.

And, then he thinks about just avoiding you altogether. There's always the chance your issues could come up in conversation, and it's so far in the past now, there's nothing either of you can say to make the other feel better. This can't be about closure. It's just a job. That's all.

"Wow, everyone really… cleared outta here."

Mike's vision unfogs, and he glances around to find that yes, you're the only two left in the conference room. Fantastic.

You're wrapping a cord around your elbow then shoving it in a laptop bag, and he can tell you're moving as fast as you can, ready to get the fuck out of there.

"Uh, yeah," Mike agrees, pushing himself to his feet and grabbing his notebook to curl in his hands. "Everyone's just ready to get back to work, I guess."

"Yeah. You can only hold someone's attention with a PowerPoint for so long."

Mike's mouth is too dry, and it feels like he needs to cough, but he doesn't want to startle you, so he just quietly clears his throat in an entirely ineffective way and tells you, "Good PowerPoint, though."

You snicker, not loud enough to hear your real laugh, and Mike doesn't know if he's grateful for that or not.

"Thanks. Mobs made it."

Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you finally look up at Mike—really look at him for the first time—and he sees your expression go soft, mouth twitching like you’re caught between smiling and frowning, and Mike is taken back to the first night he met you when he wanted you to shotgun that disgusting beer.

You blink at him, open and close your mouth, and Mike is waiting with baited breath for you to say something else, but all you do is hold your hand out for him to take the projector remote from you.

"Here."

He grabs it with two fingers, careful not to brush your hand. Fuck, he wishes his heart would stop beating so hard, it's incredibly uncomfortable.

"I feel like I should say something," you murmur, "But I have no idea what, so I'm just gonna tell you I look forward to working with you, Dr. Zacharias."

He grins. Widely. He doesn't mean to, but he does. It's been so damn long since anyone has said his last name like that.

"Do you, though?" He asks.

"Do I what?"

"Look forward to working here."

"Oh, uh…" You bite your lip, start rocking on your feet again, then shrug. "I guess? I mean… Big project."

"Very big."

"It's important to me. I can't say that I was expecting—"

"Me?" Mike offers with a tilt of his head.

He's standing too close. It feels like he is, anyway, so he moves back to lean against the conference table.

"Yeah, pretty much," you laugh. "It's been a while."

Mike wonders if you remember that night as well as he does. No matter how much he's tried to forget it, that image of you with fat years rolling down your face just will not leave him. Do you remember how it felt? Can you remember everything he said to you?

Before Mike can respond, you wave a hand. "Anyway, I need to go help set up our little area, so…"

"Yeah, for sure. I'll be around."

After powering through the last hour of his day, Mike bolts from the building. He needs to get home. He needs to get a drink in his hand. He needs to unwind and not think of you.

He needs to fucking call Erwin.

"Hey, bro, what's up?"

"Dude," is all Mike says at first.

"What?"

"You will never fucking guess who's on the team we’re working with on the Sina water project."

Erwin hums in a sing-song sort of way, then chuckles. "Funny, I got a similar call about an hour ago."

"You guys still talk?" Mike asks a little too loudly.

"Yeah, man. Not every day or anything, but—"

Mike rolls his eyes. "You're unbelievable." He isn't mad, and Erwin knows this. He's just a little surprised. His friend hasn’t as much as uttered your name in the last ten years.

"Yeah, whatever. How'd it go from your perspective?"

"It—Wait, what did she say?"

"Oh, no no no," Erwin laughs. Mike here's a distant, "Hold that, please!" and figures he's making his way to the elevator to leave work as well. "I am not getting caught up in your bullshit again."

Pouting, Mike finally turns on his car and pulls out of the parking lot. "Fine. It went… Well? I think? I mean, super awkward, but that isn't surprising."

"No name-calling or confessions of undying love?"

"No, I'm not twenty-two anymore."

"Could have fooled me," Erwin snorts.

"Fuck off. It was a good presentation, but she was nervous, and I couldn't tell if it was from having to speak in front of people or if it was 'cause I was there, and then we talked afterward—nothing important or anything, just, like, an acknowledgement. You know, you're here, I'm here, we have to find a way to co-exist, except neither of us actually said that," Mike has to take a deep breath. He's rambling, he knows, and Erwin is just listening, probably storing it all away to make fun of him about it later. "It was okay. It could've been worse."

"Could have been better too."

"What? How—"

"Could have bent her over the desk and—"

"Dude!"

Erwin breaks into that deep laugh Mike is so used to, tells him, "I'm just saying! I know she's still cute. We have each other on Facebook."

He's right. Too right. You are absolutely still cute, all dressed up in business casual attire, so different from the leggings and hoodies you used to wear. Your face has matured slightly—naturally—and your hair is different but still suits you. Mike has no idea how he's supposed to work with you for the next few months.

"I can't deal with you," Mike grumbles. "Why did I even call you?"

"Probably because I'm the only one who has an inkling about what you're going through right now," Erwin replies. "Aside from her anyway."

"Yeah, yeah."

They chat for a little while longer until Erwin gets to the bar he's apparently meeting some coworkers at, and Mike spends the rest of his drive listening to music too loud as he tries and fails to clear his mind of you.

You're pacing. You have been for the last hour. The food you made for yourself went cold some time ago, but you're too busy whining into your phone to notice.

"Just—like—what the fuck am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to work with him like this? He's overseeing the whole fucking project! I can't just avoid him!"

"Okay, first thing's first," Hitch stops you. "I need you to take a deep breath for me."

"Hitch—"

"Breathe!"

You inhale through your nose then blow out through your mouth, but that's obviously not good enough for Hitch because she demands, "And, again."

"What are you, my therapist?"

"I mean, I usually act like one, so… anyway, while you're calming the fuck down, I'm gonna call for backup. Hold please."

Dropping yourself onto the hotel couch, you try to relax even though you know it'll be impossible because—

"You're working with Mike?" Rhi's shrill voice meets your ear, and you have to pull the phone away.

"Rhi, you're supposed to help me calm her down, not add to her panic," Hitch reminds her.

"Yeah, no, that's not gonna happen," Rhi tells her, and you laugh to yourself.

"Agreed."

"Okay, so tell me what happened. Oh my god, did you cry? Did he cry? What'd Erwin say when you told him? You told him, right?"

You've gotten used to Rhi's rapid fire inquiries a long time ago, so you have no problem answering, "We walked in for the big Sina presentation today, and he was just there, and I was freaking out, so Hange had to do most of the work but still made me go over my findings 'cause I understand them better than they do, but anyway. I don't think he was paying attention at fucking all which is cool 'cause I wouldn't have been either, and then we talked for a second afterward, but there were no tears. There was almost vomit 'cause I felt like I needed to throw up, but I kept it together. I think."

"Okay, and Erwin? What'd he say?"

You snicker to yourself. "He made fun of me for a little while and then he told me to talk to Mike once I calmed down just to catch up and then to—this is verbatim, by the way—to possibly have dirty sex in Mike's office."

Both of your friends howl, Hitch being the first to gather herself enough to giggle, "He fucking would say that, oh my god, I hate him."

"Same," Rhi drawls. "Okay, but is there the possibility of dirty office sex?"

"Wha—That's what you're taking away from all that?" You splutter.

"Uh, yeah."

"I'm kinda curious too," Hitch pipes up.

You wave your free hand around in confusion and tell them, "I—we—no! We don't even know each other anymore. We said, like, four words to each other today, and it was fucking weird, so no. Pervs."

"Do you want to, though? Has he aged well?" Hitch asks in a low, sultry voice.

You click your tongue and pause, not wanting the first thought that pops into your head to be what comes out of your mouth because yes, holy shit, yes, Mike looks so fucking good. It was one of many reasons you were so tongue-tied in front of him.

He's still impossibly tall and broad, but in slacks and a button up. The beard he’s always had is short and rugged and a tad darker than the hair on top of his head that he's let grow out long enough to tie in a bun, and it fits him too well. You thought you were gonna start drooling on his fancy shoes.

"He's alright," you play. They see right through you, falling into another long fit of laughter until you admit, "Okay, okay, he's still stupid hot, alright?"

"God bless. I'm so happy to hear that. I'm so happy for you."

"Why would you—"

"Just promise you'll invite us to the wedding."

"I think you guys are getting a little ahead of yourselves."

"Oh my god, we have to call Marie."

"And, Maddie."

You shake your head as the other two start going back and forth, talking about you like you're not even there, bringing up college memories, old parties you'd all gone to.

"Hey, remember when you hated me?" Rhi questions, and both of you snort.

"And, you hated me right back. Stole your man or whatever."

Hitch mutters a quiet, "Ew, fuck that guy."

And, Rhi picks up, "Yeah, fuck that all-American, record-breaking pitcher."

The three of you talk well into the evening, eventually switching to Zoom so that you can all see each other and add Maddie and Marie into the call. You and Hitch break open bottles of wine, but Rhi and Maddie don't drink, "Solidarity with this pregnant bitch," Maddie says, and Marie lifts her glass of water to cheers via internet.

Sophomore and junior year of college, you never would have expected to get close to anyone other than Hitch, but through a few shared classes and petty curiosity, all of you ended up seeking solace in one another and came out on the other side as best friends. Hitch was even Maid of Honor in Marie and Nile's wedding. Against all odds, everything turned out pretty wholesome.

"I genuinely hope it works out," Hitch says now, words long, lazy, and starting to slur together "Like, even if it's just you and Mike making up and being, like, cool with each other again."

"Hitch, you're drunk, please go to bed."

"I am drunk. But, I still mean what I said. I miss when you guys were just best friends."

"Why?" You question with a head shake.

Hitch sighs, "'Cause you were so happy."

"No, I—"

"I mean, you were still all… weird and guarded, but that dude made you laugh and smile so much."

"I daresay I even saw you giddy on a couple of occasions," Marie hums.

"Whatever. I just want it to be… not awkward."

"Then, talk."

"Mm, pass."

A light knock on the wall of the impressively large cubicle gets your whole team's attention, all of you glancing up to find Mike standing in the little entryway, hands in his pockets.

"Hey, just checkin' in. Have you all gotten settled?"

"Yes!" Hange is up on their feet. "Great accommodations, and that lab you guys use?" They moan, and you can tell Mike is trying not to laugh because his mouth is twisting to one side like it always does when he tries to appear unaffected by something. However, you know well that it is very hard to remain unaffected by Hange Zoe.

"Yeah, we haven't had a lab that shiny in a long time," Moblit chuckles.

"Don't you work in government buildings?" Mike frowns.

"You ever seen the inside of a post office?" You question, immediately regretting it when those light green eyes land on you.

"Uh, yeah?"

Smirking through the butterflies, you tell him, "Those are government buildings too."

"Don't mind her. She's just being a smartass," Abel says.

Mike is really fighting that smile now. Even pinched to one side, you can see the way his lips are trying to curve upward, and you have to bite yours and look at the floor before you start acting like a god damn school girl.

It's nearing the end of the first week at your new location. It hasn't been terrible, and some of the strangeness is beginning to wear off, but it's still jarring to see Mike walk around or hear his voice carrying through his office door.

Neither of you have gone out of your way to talk to one another. Anything project related, Hange handles for the most part, and if anything is delegated to you, you try to pass it off to Abel because you're just not ready to be alone in a room with Mike. Your brain and your heart can't take it yet.

You can't deny that you're curious, though. You wonder what his life is like now, what his job is like outside of what you've seen (which, admittedly, is not much), what he does in his free time now, who he spends his time with. You couldn't help but notice (you made a point of looking) that there isn't any type of ring on his finger which is pretty fucking surprising since, well, Mike has always been a catch. How has someone not come around and swiped him off the market? Or, does he just not wear a wedding band at work? Or, does he just have a girlfriend and is waiting to take the next step? So many questions you have no business asking.

Mike hums, rubs at something probably nonexistent on the carpet with the toe of his shoe, and mumbles a little, "Nothin’ I haven't dealt with before," that makes everyone look at him curiously. "With co-workers, you know. Lotta sass in the office."

You stifle a laugh and stand up. There are a lot of sassy things you could say, but you figure none of them are actually appropriate, especially since Mike is technically your boss now—why is that so hot?—so you just slip out of the cubicle, doing your best to not brush up against Mike. He apparently doesn't care, though, because while he moves to the side, he does the thing that all men do, placing a hand on the small of your back as if to guide you past him, and it makes you burn.

"'scuse me," you squeak, relieved to be able to run to the restroom where you can sit in a stall and scream to Hitch through texts.

You are dying—mostly because you don't know what you want. Do you want to be friends? Do you want to seduce him? Do you want another nine years away from him? You have no idea.

You were sad for a long time after that holiday break. You trudged through your spring courses, took more classes in the Summer, then started all over. Hitch had to physically drag you out of your tiny apartment a few times but never to any parties, thank god. Just to lunch or the library, and eventually, Rhi, Marie, and Maddie came into the picture. Further into the picture, anyway.

While they got you laughing again, though, that ache didn't ever fade. Mike's words replayed in your head in a constant loop, day and night for months. I can’t do this anymore. Start fresh. Shouldn’t be hard for you. You were mad at yourself for a long time, for ruining everything and hurting him. If you could have gone back to the start of it all and done things differently, you would have, but you just had to sit with all your mistakes instead.

Then, your anger shifted toward him. Because you weren't the only one who messed up. You may have been the first one to, but he did some shitty things too. He's the one who didn't care even after finding out it was Zeke who blocked his number. He's the one who refused to believe that you and Erwin weren't actually a couple. He's the one who brought Rhi to the ranch house with the specific intention of hurting your feelings (and to wet his dick).

And, he's the one who didn't want to work things out.

You understand his frustration. You broke his heart, after all. But then, he turned around and broke yours too.

It was nine years ago, and you've moved on. You've dated people since then. You've fallen in and out of love. Mike wasn't even on your radar until Monday, but now… Now, there's no forgetting him. Old wounds get jabbed every time he peeks around the corner, any time you hear him laugh or see him smile, and when he actually looks at you, fuck, it's like someone is ripping stitches out of your skin.

It is not a productive work environment.

Your team hasn't noticed much other than Moblit asking what has you so tense these days, but no one has made any connections, and you'd like to keep it that way. Hange would have a fucking field day if they found out.

There are many meetings to toss around ideas, plans and blueprints that get scrapped. You stumble through presentations, trying not to look directly at anyone as your cheeks heat up and your hands shake.

"You've never been nervous about stuff like this," Abel tells you in the conference room one day as everyone else files out. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," you shake your head. "Don't worry about it."

"Nothing my ass," he grumbles, walking out without you.

"You really should try to relax," Mike tells you from where he's still sitting at the table. "No idea why you're so nervous."

Everyone else is gone which means you're free to squint at him, scathing retort on the tip of your tongue, but when you see that he's smirking at you, the words dry up.

"Don't play dumb, Zacharias."

"I'm not playing anything," he tells you. "But, I do need to know how long we're gonna keep up this I don't know you-you don't know me thing."

"You literally just said—..." Taking a deep breath, you look over your shoulder to, one, form a coherent sentence in your brain, and two, make sure no one is close enough to hear it when you say, "What would you prefer we do? Not like we can just pick up where we left off. Unless, you know, you wanna go back to being incredibly fucking pissed at me for months on end."

"Man, you really are tense about this," Mike chuckles, and you're torn between slapping him and jumping his bones, so you do neither. Fuck, why'd he have to wear the purple tie today? It looks so good with his complexion and complements his eyes. A few strands of hair have come loose from the bun at the back of his head, and he shakes them out of his face like he used to shake his shaggy bangs, and all you can do is stare and squirm and tell him, "I have to go."

"Go where?" He asks, standing from his chair. It feels like he towers over you even from across the table.

You hold your hands out and gesticulate a little frantically, "I don't know—work? Maybe?"

He's extremely amused, even laughs as you make your way out the door, then calls, "Whenever you're ready to talk, just let me know! You know where my office is."

"I don't wanna talk!"

You really don't. But, you also really do.

Mike starts having fun with his new department (you specifically) around the third week.

He's never seen you like this before, having to mentally prepare yourself before you walk into any room, like you have to be ready for him. You nibble on your lip and rock on your heels. Your hands shake in meetings when you have to point to pictures or graphs.

It’s just so unlike you. He got so used to the surly, uncaring girl in college, never happy to see Mike until you gave him a fair chance (and decided you enjoyed his cock). He expects everything to come out of your mouth to be sarcastic or suggestive, and when it's not, it takes him off guard.

Mike is nervous around you too. He can easily admit that. But, his neverending panic really just manifests in the form of nausea and heart palpitations which he thinks is better than trembling and stuttering, but it's still mildly distracting.

Every once in a while, he catches a glimpse of that old side of you, though, a mumbled smartass remark or an unimpressed expression, and he has to make a conscious effort to not grin like an idiot because he's still trying to decipher his actual feelings.

Is he supposed to act like nothing ever happened, or should he hold a grudge? What seems more natural? What feels more natural?

Mike knows the answer to that last question, but he hasn't fully accepted it.

"It's kinda cute, actually. Like, I walk into the room and she gets this little doe-eyed expression. Looks like she's about to run away."

"You're kind of a sadist, you know that?" Erwin says.

"I mean, is it so wrong to get a little satisfaction outta this?"

"I think so, yeah. You're driving her crazy, dude."

Mike smacks his lips and rolls his eyes. "Man, how would you know—"

"'Cause she told me!" Erwin basically shouts like it's obvious. "The words came out of her mouth. Mike is driving me crazy. Just like that."

Pouting, Mike takes another sip of his beer and lets his eyes travel to the bottom of the TV screen to check the score of the game he isn't watching.

"Well, it's not like I can really do anything about it. She'll only be here for a few months."

"Do you happen to know how long it takes for a stomach ulcer to form?" Erwin asks.

Mike frowns. "Uh, no?"

"Well, neither do I, but I'm pretty sure it's not very long."

Both of them laugh. Mike mutters something about Erwin being fucking stupid, and then Erwin sighs and speaks, "I am begging you, dude. Please just get a fucking drink with her or something."

"We don't mix well with alcohol," Mike snarks.

"What's the worst that could happen—you end up in bed again?"

"Well—"

"Honestly, both of you could probably benefit from a good fuck, but what do I know? I'm just the guy both of you call for this shit."

"Alright, I get it. I'll… see if she's up for something," Mike mumbles.

"I mean, I wouldn't open with sex, maybe start off with lunch or…"

"I'm hanging up now."

Mike doesn't actually know how to ask you, though. You're so fucking skittish around him, and you're obviously worried about people finding out you have a history, so he's gonna have to be strategic about it, maybe plant the seed a few days before or—

"Hey, listen…" You appear in Mike's office doorway, long cardigan falling to your knees and swishing behind you even after you've stopped moving. "I know it's almost five, but I'm, like, right in the middle of mapping out a new plan, and I don't wanna lose steam, so is it cool if I stay late?"

"Yeah, I don't care," Mike answers, tacking on, "S'long as you're okay with being here late with me."

"Oh, th-that's—" you splutter for a little while, and Mike raises his eyebrows. "That's n-not necessary. You don't have to, like, supervise me or anything."

"I'm not supervising you," Mike snorts. "I'm trying to finish my piece for a journal."

"Ah, right, that's… yes." You shoot off a half-hearted finger gun, and Mike wants to hop his desk to get to you. There you are. There are your dumb fucking mannerisms, please, just act like yourself, for the love of god.

"Okay, well if you need me, uh, I will probably be on the floor in the annex, so…"

"We do have chairs, ya' know," Mike smirks.

"Yeah, but it's easier to just spread everything out so I can see it."

"Want a corkboard? You can make it look like you're doing a murder investigation."

"Hmm, might make it look more official," you muse, making a face of contemplation.

Before you can actually say yes, Mike pipes up again. "I don't actually have a corkboard. It was a joke."

"Yeah, I know," you snicker. "Wouldn't be big enough anyway."

Too many responses flood Mike's brain at once, causing him to bite his tongue because every last one of them is gross, but you must be able to read it on his face because you point and tell him, "Stop."

"I didn't say anything!" He laughs.

"You don't have to. I know."

Mike rolls his eyes, "Okay," and looks back to his computer, hoping the screen is high enough to hide his grin as you turn and walk away.

The next hour is spent editing the same paragraph over and over with no real motivation because everyone has vacated the floor except for you and Mike, and this could be a good time to talk to you, but he also doesn't want to disrupt your work. Just because he can't focus doesn't mean you can't. You'd only get upset if he distracted you from your work anyway—it's happened before—redirecting your attention from a textbook or study guide to… other things.

He goes down a rabbit hole, reminiscing on those occasions, then tweaking them just a little to fit into the current setting, and it's the absolute last thing Mike should be thinking about, but it's Friday, and you're slightly more casual in your flowy cardigan and tight jeans, and all he wants is to get one teeny tiny look at your ass in them because he knows your it’s perfect. He's seen it in leggings and cheeky little boy shorts and lacy thongs, and there is absolutely no way he can go out to talk to you now.

Also, he really needs to write at least one paragraph before leaving tonight. It's all about water and waste and pollutants which is the shit Mike knows like the back of his hand. He'd just rather have said hands on something else.

"Yeah, this isn't gonna happen," he mutters to himself, taking his hair down to scratch at his scalp. He's better off just going home.

Mike packs a few things up before stepping out of his office, closing and locking the door behind him. Half the lights are off, but the portion over the annex is shining brightly. Mike stares in that direction as he debates telling you he's leaving or bolting without saying anything.

It's the thought of you walking out to your car alone that makes his mind up, and Mike saunters to the annex and finds you on hands knees surrounded by several sketches, crumpled notes, and the set of blueprints that Mike is pretty sure got thrown in the recycling on Tuesday.

"Where'd you even find those?"

You don't look up when you answer, "Recycling comes every Monday."

"So, you went… dumpster diving?"

Lifting your head, you squint up at Mike, tracking him as he squats on the other side of your organized chaos.

"Is it dumpster diving if it's all paper?"

Mike shrugs. "Dunno. How's it comin'?"

"I'm comi—It!" You correct a little too loudly. "It's coming! It's coming along just fine."

"Yeah?" Mike chuckles. "Cute Freudian slip there."

"It was not—" You grit your teeth, fingers curling on the papers they're resting on, then question, "Did you need something?"

"Just came by to say I was leaving," Mike tells you. Something catches his eye, though, some of your notes scribbled just big enough for him to read a few of the words from where he is, and he grabs the sheet to look it over more carefully.

Irrigation plans, specialized pumps, introducing new life into the lake, specifically filter fish…

"I was just vomiting ideas out on paper, it's nothing important."

Mike hums and reads further. Some of it is familiar because Mike has considered some of these himself, but while your engineering thoughts are a little vague, the ideas that lean more toward the biological side of things are pretty interesting, even if they're just sloppy bullet points and arrows.

"You wanna vomit on a person instead?" He asks, chuckling at the look you give him.

"Ew."

"Just spitball. Throw it at me."

"Oh, I'm gonna throw somethin' at you all right."

Mike slips his bag from his shoulder and sets it down before sitting on the ground, picking up the papers closest to him.

"Tell me about the xylem tissue method," he prompts.

You don't speak right away, just chew on your lip while staring at the sketches on the ground, but then you nod and sit back on your heels.

"So, we know that white pine trees are a natural means of filtering, but there aren't any around here. I know it's more of a long-term plan, but we can't just go with a temporary fix, so I was thinking—"

Mike listens. To everything. Everything you can think of. He watches too. You rub your hands over your jeans and flick hair from your eyes. You change positions, sitting on one foot while resting your chin on your knee as you think out loud, then move to sit cross-legged only to get up to pace the length of the cubicle, barefoot since your heels were kicked off long ago.

He asks questions or makes suggestions here and there, and soon it isn't just you who's brainstorming.

It's easy. It's what Mike knows, and it's obviously what you know too, and a couple of hours pass before either of you realize it.

"Shit, it's almost ten," you state, looking at your phone. "Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you here so late."

"It's fine. Wouldn't have stayed if I didn't want to."

Mike stretches as he stands, twisting to crack his back and rolling his neck. You gather up all the papers, straightening them into a neat pile then putting them in a drawer at the bottom of your desk.

You walk out together, still chatting in the elevator and out to the parking lot, and Mike feels good. He feels like… He feels like he did in college.

"Please tell me that is not your car," you say, eyeing the boxy, white Mercedes that is, in fact, Mike's.

"What of it?"

"These fucking Jeeps are so ugly, I cannot believe—"

"Uh, it's not a Jeep. It's a g-wagon, thank you."

You roll your eyes. "I liked your Wrangler better."

"I bet you fuckin' did," he mumbles, too lost in the memory of you riding him in said Wrangler to think about how you might take the comment.

"It was easier on the eyes," you explain.

"It was a frat boy car."

"You were a frat boy!"

"And, now I'm a professional."

"Are you, though?" You tease, expression skeptical save for your tiny smirk.

"Most of the time."

The only other vehicle in the lot is a Land Rover, considerably larger than the little hatchback you used to drive but very fitting for someone in your line of work. Mike thinks about mentioning that it's basically the same as his Mercedes, just not as expensive and with rounder edges, but he knows you'll just get indignant and defensive.

He walks you over to your car, and you don't question it, just open the passenger side and throw your bag inside.

This is your chance, Mike realizes. Just ask. Ask her to go somewhere else and talk about something other than work.

"Hey, uh, do you wanna grab a drink or something?" He tries, heartbeat picking up once again. His eyes are a little too wide as you regard him carefully, studying him like one of your samples.

Then, you shake your head.

"No, Mike. I don't wanna grab a drink." His stomach opens up, the heat that comes with embarrassment creeping up his neck.

"Oh, sorry, I just—"

"But, there's a breakfast place close to the extended stay they put us up in. I've been wanting to check it out."

And, like that, his hope is restored. Hope for what, Mike doesn't know, but it's certainly there, blooming in his chest like unkempt wildflowers.

"Yeah?"

You nod. "Yeah. I'm still not really a morning person, but d'you wanna meet there at, like, ten or so?"

"Tomorrow?"

"I mean, if that works for you."

"Yeah!" Mike clears his throat, lowers his voice so that he sounds a little less excited. "I'm usually up and moving by eight."

"God, why do you hate yourself?" You cringe.

"I've always been an early riser."

"Not from what I remember."

Mike leans against your rover, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, maybe not when I was kept up into the early morning hours, but usually I was up before everyone else."

You post up across from him, one hand on your hip, and Mike realizes this is gonna go on for some time.

"Kept up? Like you didn't wanna be?"

He's fine with that. He'll stand out here talking with you until the sun comes up if you'll let him. And, maybe after that too.

Breakfast is good. Breakfast is safe. Breakfast is the start of the day and free of alcohol. There is nothing suggestive about breakfast.

Except breakfast has become a habit. For the last three Saturdays you’ve sat at the little cafe next to your hotel talking with Mike for at least an hour. You’re kind of getting to know him again, but most of the conversation consists of stupid jokes or blatant deflections.

His parents are still doing well, both in their sixties now, but Scout, unfortunately passed away a few years ago. Hearing it makes your eyes burn, and watching Mike’s face fall actually makes you wipe at your own rapidly forming tears.

He still keeps in touch with several of his frat brothers—Erwin (obviously), Nile, Gelgar, and some of the younger kids, Jean, Marco, and Connie.

“Yeah, I’m actually pretty close to Marie now,” you tell him. “And, Maddie, and Rhi.”

“Rhi?” He looks incredibly surprised.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Bonded over the woes of college boys.”

“Didn’t see that coming.”

“Neither did I, honestly.”

Working with him is easier now. The ice has been broken. The boundaries have been set even if they are unspoken. You still do your best not to touch him at all, never stand too close or brush against him in any way, but you’ve loosened up a lot, and your team seems to appreciate it. Unfortunately, they also start to notice the way you light up a little too much whenever you’re around Mike, and naturally, Hange just had to comment on it a few days ago.

“You have a crush on the bossman or somethin’?”

“What? No. We just work well together, I guess.”

You do not tell Mike about this exchange, in fear of him prying. Well, do you have a crush on the bossman? You’re not ready for that, probably never will be.

There are a few breakthroughs in the Sina project. The research team gets extra funding to run more trials, and you start to stay late more often, sometimes in the tower with everyone else and sometimes in the lab. Things are progressing nicely.

Eventually, breakfast turns to lunch, lunch turns to dinner, and then you find yourself in Mike’s apartment, sitting at his kitchen table while he cooks.

“So, we talk every once in a while now, but it’s usually really awkward. Like, I still don’t ever know what to say to him.”

“Do you find it weird that he reached out in the first place?”

“Kind of? When I was younger, I always hoped he would, but now that he has, I almost wish he hadn’t. Does that make sense?”

Mike shrugs as he pours noodles into a strainer over the sink. “I mean, he’s your dad, so yeah, it makes sense. What he did was super shitty, but I figure it’s hard to forget the good times and just abandon all hope.”

“Yeah. On the bright side, he sends my brother money for commissary, like, every week, so that’s nice.”

It took a little while, but you’ve let yourself open up to Mike much easier this time around. Whether it’s because you already know you can trust him or because you’ve gotten the closure you needed for so long, you’re not sure. You just know it’s been easy.

Unfortunately, with vulnerability comes feelings, and you are having a lot of those. Too many. You’re glad that it’s not debilitating dread and nervousness now, but the overwhelming affection isn’t any less distracting.

Watching Mike move around his kitchen, though—clad in a t-shirt, faded jeans, and the dish towel thrown over his shoulder, you are painfully reminded of why you got so attached all those years ago.

It isn’t fair. You really didn’t want to fall back into this hole. You knew it was a possibility as soon as you saw him at that first meeting, but you were trying to put it off until you had to leave.

Because that’s the plan. You come in. You complete the project, get them started on a long-term plan for the lake, then head back to your home facility and wait for another job to be assigned. You can’t just stay here, even if the idea gets a little more tempting every day.

You’re just friends, though, just spending time together because it’s familiar. It’s nice being back on the same page, just letting the past stay there.

“So, it’s been about two months,” Mike starts, and something about his tone makes your stomach drop. “I feel like that’s an appropriate amount of time to wait before finally addressing the elephant in the room.”

So much for letting the past stay there.

Groaning, you rub your hands down your face. “Do we really have to?” Of course he would want to talk about it now that you’re comfortable.

“I really think we do.”

“Mike, that was so long ago. I was a dumb fucking kid. What do you need to know other than that?”

He braces himself on his counter, face serious. “Nothin’ really. I just want you to know that I was a dumb kid too.”

“Yeah, and we’ve grown since then and gotten over it, right?”

He lets out a long sigh. “I had gotten over it, but working with you every day has kinda... brought some things back to the surface.”

Staring at him, you swallow and try to stay calm. You know where he’s coming from, and it’s a little comforting to know that he’s been experiencing at least some of the emotions that you have been, but you don’t know whether or not it’s a good thing.

“I get it. I’ve been struggling too, but there’s nothing we can really do about it.”

You’ve thought about just taking the plunge and sleeping with him again. It would be nice—really fucking nice—but it would only make things worse.

“I guess. It’s been cool to hang out again, but…” Mike chews on his lip for a moment before finishing, “We’ve never been good at just hanging out.”

The reminder makes your skin prickle with heat, and you shift in your chair, reeling in your thoughts before they run wild.

“Yeah. If it would be easier to just not hang out, I’d understand.”

He turns back to the stove to stir something and turn on the vent then twists back around. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then, what are you saying?”

Mike makes a little disgruntled noise, hanging his head like he’s getting frustrated. “I’m saying some days are hard. I tried to keep some distance, but that lasted for about a week, and now you’re here, and even though you’ve changed some, you’re still you, and I’m still me, and… Some days are just hard.”

Some minutes are hard, you think to yourself. You can be going about your day like someone who isn’t completely fucking smitten, and then you see Mike, and he nods or grins and suddenly all you want is to be alone with him and trace over his lips with yours, feel his hands on you, run your fingers through his long hair.

“If I could take those feelings away from you, I would,” you tell him, and it’s apparently the wrong thing to say because he frowns.

“Do you not feel the same way then?”

Your reply is almost instantaneous. “Christ, Mike, of course I feel the same! I was in love with you! I didn’t know how to show it back then, but that’s what it was, so yeah, I feel it too, but there’s no point in—in analyzing it or turning it into something—”

“You were in love?”

“Dude. Yes. It took me a while to realize it—like, way too long—but yeah. Definitely love. Junior and senior year wouldn’t have sucked so much if it was just lust or infatuation or something.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you wave him off. “I fucked up. You had every right to be pissed.”

“I could’ve handled it better,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “Dumb kids, remember?”

Mike looks genuinely upset, and you don’t know what to say anymore, so you get up from the kitchen table and walk over to him. You have to physically urge him to turn and face you, but once he does, you wrap your arms around his torso and sigh. He immediately locks his wrists behind your back, resting his chin on your head, and it feels familiar and right and a little bit like home. You can smell the fabric softener that clings to his shirt and the fresh scent of his deodorant, different from what he used to wear, but that doesn’t make it bad.

“Can we wait for a while longer before we decide to act like dumb kids again?” You ask.

Mike chuckles above you. “You say that like you’re positive we will.”

You’re just being realistic, and you tell him as much. The chances of you leaving the city without having sex at least once are slim to none. You figure the two of you will break and indulge in one of those ‘just for old time’s sake’ fucks, but if Mike keeps talking to you like this, admitting feelings and what not, you’re gonna lose it much faster than you’d originally planned.

“Yeah.” You feel him nod. “Yeah, we can wait.”

When he kisses the top of your head, you almost give up then and there.

This fucking sucks. Everything sucks. Mike was never one of those people who looked back on college as his glory days, never really had the desire to go back to it, but now he feels like he’s reliving them because he’s back to being twenty-one and obsessed with a girl—being obsessed with you.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t know that you felt it too, but you admitted it, so now the only thing that’s stopping the two of you from exploring that avenue is, what, fear? Again?

He gets it. He does. You don’t want to fall into something serious only to leave, but it’s possible to navigate relationships like that. Long distance-works. There’s technology for that like phones and video chats and sex toys. Then, there’s always the option of just relocating. It would be drastic, but Mike isn’t against the idea. Arrangements would have to be made, but he could swing it. It’s a little crazy so early on, but...

He’s not gonna push it, not in a blatant way, but he’s gonna try his damndest to make it harder for you to go. He grows bold enough to start touching you more. A hand on the small of your back as you leave a room together, an arm around your shoulders when you watch TV over dinner, tucking hair behind your ear (“God, that used to be Erwin’s, like, go-to move.”). It’s fucked up because he knows your colleagues are asking about it, that he’s subjecting you to their interrogations, but he can’t help himself. He can’t stop.

It definitely has an effect on you. You get flustered every time, can’t look at Mike for a while, and he hopes it’s because you’re thinking about other ways he could touch you—has touched you—f you’d just give him the chance.

He thinks he has the patience to keep it up, wind you up more and more every day until you spin out of control and into his bed. You’re still spending time with him outside of work, still sharing pieces of yourself, and you’re not stopping him from putting his hands on you. so it’s only a matter of time.

It comes to a head in his apartment after dinner. It’s so simple, something Mike didn’t even do on purpose, but as you’re washing your hands, he comes up behind you and reaches past you for a paper towel. He puts a hand on your hip without thinking, and his chest presses against your back, and then you’re exhaling in one quick huff and squirming to turn around.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?” Mike asks, confused as he takes a step back.

“Okay, I’m ready to act like a dumb kid.”

You don’t even dry your hands, just curl your fingers into his shirt and gaze up at him with dilated pupils, and Mike is elated.

“Oh, thank god, fuck, thank god.”

He leans down, and you stand on your tiptoes, and when you meet in the middle and he feels your lips on his for the first time in almost a decade, he groans.

You pull him closer, tilt your head further back to give him better access, and Mike cradles it in his hands. He tries not to breathe too heavily, pant like a fucking dog, but he’s been waiting for this since he saw you again. Maybe before that. He thinks on some level he’s been waiting for this since he left you alone in the ranch house, a little voice nagging at him to go back, to fix things, and he just never did.

“This is stupid, this is so stupid,” you murmur against him. “Only gonna make things harder.”

“Just stop thinking about it,” Mike replies, nipping at your bottom lip. He doesn’t want you to think about it because he doesn’t want to think about it otherwise he’ll blurt out everything he’s been stewing on for the last couple weeks, the possibility of a real relationship, of you staying or him going, and that's too much.

You both shed clothes on your way to the bedroom, a trail of shirts and pants until you’re naked and laid out for him, and Mike swears he just might cry because you’re so beautiful, just as he remembered with a little more meat on your hips and thighs, a new scar on your calf that he asks about before brushing his lips over it. That leg is already resting on his shoulder, and once he gets situated on his stomach, he throws the other one over himself.

His mouth starts to water as he gazes at your pussy, so fucking pretty, hole fluttering when he spreads you open. You can’t answer his question about the injury as he lowers his face, pressing the flat of his tongue to the sensitive skin then dipping it inside of you.

“Oh, fuck.”

You taste and smell and feel perfect, and the only thought in his mind is to devour you. He won’t stop until you’re crying, drool leaking from your mouth and your cunt. And, he knows exactly how to get you to that point.

Mike flicks over your clit until it grows firm against his tongue then sucks it into his mouth. The noise you make goes straight to his cock, and he starts to rut into the mattress to get some kind of friction. He can already feel precum dripping from his tip, knows you won’t be the only one getting messy tonight, but he doesn’t care. He’s never cared.

Mike only pulls away when your thighs start to tremble around his head, and it’s only to mark them with bruises. It reminds him of the last time, when you’d let him fuck you in a fit of desperation. It had been his undoing. He thought of that night for years, and now that he’s able to do it all again, he can’t help but confess, “Fuck, I’ve missed your pussy,” just before he spits on it.

Your chest is rising with every little whimper you release as your nails dig into your palms. He’s never been happier to have long arms, able to reach up and massage your tits, stretching his fingers out to span across your chest, thumb on one nipple, pinky on the other, and as he teases both of them, he moans at the fresh slick that coats his tongue.

“A finger,” you pant, “Give me a finger, fuck, at least one, please please please—”

You’ve always been so cute when you babble. Mike can never say no when you talk to him like that, but after assessing and deeming you fit, he slides two fingers into you at once, still sucking your clit.

You swear loudly, almost in surprise, but that doesn’t stop you from moving your hips, fucking yourself on every digit as your jaw drops open.

Mike wants to see your face—has to see it, so he licks up your body, stopping to tongue over your nipples as he goes. He never falters in his thrusting, still knows the exact angle he has to crook his fingers to hit your g-spot. Your back arches, and you plant your feet flat on the mattress to give yourself more leverage, more control. Mike smirks down at you, enjoying your euphoric expression as he grinds his palm against the bundle of nerves that is the key to making you fall apart.

“Oh my god—oh, god—fuck, Miche.”

His breath catches in his throat. God, he hasn’t heard that in too long. He never told you, not that he ever had to, but hearing you call him that drove him crazy, made him fall further in love and lust at the same time, and hearing it now has the same effect.

“Please,” you whine, then repeat it, spreading your legs to coax him deeper. “Fuck, I need you so bad, s-so bad.”

He’s in the perfect position to rub his cock over your stomach, smearing pre everywhere it touches. From the beginning, Mike has loved leaving traces of himself on you, always felt like he could almost smell it on your skin, like a sigil to ward off others.

He places a soft kiss at the corner of one closed eye, then on the other, and when you open them to look at him, he sees that they’re filled with tears.

It makes him pause, but you keep riding his fingers and beg, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, m’fine, just—”

“Why're you crying then?" he grins, leaning down to lick your bottom lip. "Feel good?"

You nod, raising to your elbows to force your mouth against his, sliding your tongue inside then whining when Mike pulls away, but it's only to gather the spit in his mouth. When he kisses you again, he makes sure you take it all, pushing saliva past his teeth and onto your palette, and when you swallow, Mike makes a noise of satisfaction.

"That's my fuckin' girl."

That wide, fuck-drunk smile he loves so much spreads across your face as you accept the praise you never would have when you were younger.

Mike noses just under your ear then asks, "You ready for my cock?"

"Always,” you breathe. “Always ready for it."

"Yeah?" You nod, face scrunching up, and Mike thinks there's a chance that you're—"Gonna come for me first?"

Your muscles are starting to tense, hips stuttering, and he can actually feel your pussy spasming around his fingers.

"Come on, baby, you can do it. Just—'

Your eyes roll back as your body pulses. Mike's hand is coated with slick that he can't wait to lick off, and he fucks you with his fingers until you go limp.

He cleans his hand then slithers back between your legs to catch everything that's leaking from you. You release a pitiful moan when he traces a circle around your entrance then squeal when he rubs his beard over it.

"Jesus fuck!"

"Sensitive?" He teases before crawling back up to kiss you.

Holding himself up with one arm, Mike takes hold of his cock, painfully hard at this point, and parts your wet folds with his tip. He slides it up and down, teasing both you and himself and gasping every time it just barely dips inside of you.

"Miche, please."

"You sound good when you beg," he tells you. You've been doing an awful lot of that tonight.

"Good enough to fuck me?"

"Mm, maybe," he plays, but he's cut off when you lift yourself just enough to take his cockhead inside of you, squeezing it so that he swears.

It completely dismantles any self-control Mike thought he had, and he gives you everything he has in a single thrust that makes you scream his name.

"You asked for it," he tells you, starting to pull out.

You grip his biceps, shaking your head. "J-just stay still for a—oh god, oh god…"

Mike doesn't move, lets you adjust while he enjoys the way your cunt clenches around his cock. You're panting, eyebrows knit together, and apologize, "Sorry, give me… a minute. Been a while since I've taken anything this s-size."

It's juvenile, but Mike's chest still puffs a little when you tell him that, and that feeling only grows when you give him the go ahead to move and he pulls out to see that his cock is already covered in white cream.

Breathing out a quiet, "Fuck," he slowly pushes back in, mesmerized by the way it creates a thick ring at the base. "So pretty," he mutters, rubbing a thumb over the skin that's stretched around him. "Such a pretty pussy."

He lets a string of spit drip from his mouth and onto your clit then strokes the swollen bud in circles, the pad of his fingers brushing over the tiny hole that makes you twitch every time.

Mike falls into a very slow, deep rhythm, torturing you as he drags his cock over every inch of your satin walls. Tiny gasps are pushed from your throat with every thrust, growing louder when Mike sits back on his heels and pulls your hips up to meet his. It leaves you helpless, only able to claw at the blankets, but your efforts are half-hearted, the press of Mike's cockhead against your g-spot obviously making it hard to do just about anything.

"I—I—I—..."

"You what, baby?" He coos while admiring how big his hands look where they wrap around your waist, holding you mostly still as he drives his cock in and out of you.

Your cunt is pulsing again, so tight around him as it drips with slick and cream. The sounds it's making, an obscene balance of suction and squelching, has Mike shaking over you because it's so lewd but so familiar, and god, he has missed this.

And, you're right. It's stupid because he's just putting himself in the same place he was in ten years ago, but now he's a grown fucking adult, able to handle himself better, communicate better, fuck you better.

Tears leak from the corners of your eyes when he picks up his pace, and he groans when he presses in just a little too far, cockhead nudging against the wall deep inside of you. Your eyelids flutter, toes curling where your feet dangle and shake on either side of Mike.

His hips start to snap against yours, his balls swinging every time, and Mike remembers how nice it felt when they'd slap against your clit, the way you'd sing for him, and well…

"Turn over," he breathes, pulling out and helping as you get to your hands and knees.

He takes the time to appreciate the view, letting the weight of his cock settle on your back just to get a visual of how much you take of it, what it might look like deep in your ass and what it would be like to see your stomach bulge from it.

Another day.

Not wasting any more time, Mike sheathes himself inside you once again, spreading your cheeks and spitting on your puckering hole so that he can press against it with a thumb.

Your pussy opens up for him, like your body is begging him for more, so Mike fucks you harder, faster, slipping the tip of his finger into your asshole so that you tense up and say his name drunkenly.

His heavy balls hit your clit over and over, making you squirm and swear, head hanging back in an invitation, so Mike uses his free hand to grab you by the hair, pulling and glancing at what he can see of your face to make sure he isn't hurting you too much.

That grin is back, crooked and shiny with drool you keep having to suck back from your teeth. Mike hasn't felt this good having sex in god knows how long (he knows exactly how long it's been), and he thinks out loud, "Always take my cock so well. Always been able to…"

"Feels so good, Miche," you cry, "You feel so fucking good, oh my god."

He takes you like this until you can't hold yourself up anymore, elbows buckling underneath you, and all he does then is fall onto his back and pull you with him, letting you ride him like this and dragging his nails down your spine. It curves under his touch, arching and bowing as you lean forward to plant your hands between his legs and bounce on him.

Mike has a perfect view from this angle, huffing at the way your puffy lips open for him, clinging to his cock and dripping gossamer strands. Pressure slowly starts to build in both his gut and his balls, a hot sensation that grows, making him feel full and swollen and fuck, he can't wait to fill you up, can't wait to see you sloppy with his cum again.

But, not yet. Not yet.

Pushing you until you move off of him, Mike grabs his pillows and shoves you down on them, kissing you again before burying his face between your legs. Your hands are immediately in his hair, and he smiles when you tug at it a little harshly, using the strands as a means to guide Mike right where you want him. Even though he's taking this little break to let himself calm down, he can't help but press his hips to the mattress. He's hot and throbbing and dripping pre, ready but not ready to unload everything inside of you. He doesn't want it to end too soon, wants to savor every second because you're here crying and pleading for him, pushing yourself against his face only to pull back when he sucks on your clit.

He's able to fit three fingers inside of you now, keeps licking and fucking you until you whisper a slew of curses and start to warn him, "You're gonna make me—" breaking into a high-pitched moan as you squirt into his mouth and all over his hand.

"Fuck yes, again, come on, baby, do that again."

Mike coaxes another out of you, groaning at the feeling of you dripping down his face and chuckling at the way you shiver and sit up. Your eyes are barely open, head swaying back and forth, but you plant a hand on his chest with the confidence of someone who doesn't look like they're about to pass out, shoving him back until he lays down.

Straddling him, you sink down on his cock and bite your lip as you rock back and forth for a few seconds. Mike can feel fluid dripping over his pelvis, murmurs, "So messy," while pulling you down for a lazy kiss.

He lets you ride him, lets you think you're in control for a while until your legs start to get tired, rhythm becoming slower, and then Mike takes over. He lifts and drops you to his content, hips meeting yours as he fucks up into you. Your own hands cup your tits, pinching your nipples and putting on a show as you bounce up and down.

"You're so good," you breathe. "So fucking good to me, god, Miche, right there."

He's on the brink, so close to his climax, but he holds back, giving it to you just the way you want it until it starts to hurt, and then he grunts, "'m gonna come, baby, I have to. Fuck, please, please, let me—"

"Yes, yes, wanna feel you…"

Mike's head sinks further into the pillow as his hips move without any thought on his part. He spills inside of you, hot ropes of cum filling your cunt so that it starts to leak out around him, then shooting even more inside of you.

"Jesus fucking—"

Your muscles clench, squeezing and milking him until Mike starts groaning and twitching from overstimulation.

He could die right here and now and be totally fine with it. He really could. But before he can let that happen...

Mike urges you back, letting you get situated on your pillows again as he gazes at your stretched pussy and everything dripping out of it.

As soon as you stop moving, Mike is working his tongue inside of you. He can taste both himself and you, feel it coat his tongue as he drinks in as much as he can before sliding up to your face and taking your chin so you'll open your mouth.

The first drop makes you open wider, sticking your tongue out so that Mike can fill your mouth with his cum and spit, and the fact that you let him is so incredibly arousing, he just might fuck you until he's coming dry.

The little pattern is repeated a few times, Mike licking your pussy then spitting everything into your mouth, but he leaves some for lubrication, shoving the last of his cum back inside you when he starts fucking you on his fingers. He keeps you pliant, sucking on your clit so that he can slowly ease his pinky into your ass, and it isn't long before you're letting out breathy little sounds and tensing underneath him.

He takes care of you through your orgasm, looking at your face from where he lays. You're so pretty when you come, mouth open, eyebrows high, the picture of ecstasy, and Mike wants to remember it forever. He wants to keep you like this forever.

You shudder when he pulls his fingers from you, whine when he slowly laves over your sensitive pussy with his tongue, but after several long licks, Mike crawls back up to lay next to you.

"God damn," you laugh. "I had almost forgotten how good you are."

Mike smirks, kissing your temple and nipping the shell of your ear. "Almost?"

You nod, a spent smile making your lips curl. "I don't think I could ever fully forget even if I wanted to."

Humming, he traces fingers over your stomach, now sticky from the mess of precum he had basically slathered you with.

"Yeah, we were pretty good for each other when we weren't being stupid," he muses.

He should probably step away for a few minutes, hop in the shower and wait for the flood of chemicals in his brain to fall away.

"We were, weren't we?"

"Mhm."

Mike dips to press his face into your neck. He just can't stop touching you, can't stop breathing you in. He needs to memorize everything about this—how soft you are underneath him, how you smell like sex and sweat and your perfume, how quiet your voice is when you speak to him.

He feels your body rise and fall with a heavy sigh, and he's about to ask if you want to rinse off, but you open your mouth first, thoughtful when you tell him, "I loved you so much, Miche."

"I know," he replies. Even if he couldn't see it then, he can now. You may not have told him to his face, but if Mike had been just a little smarter back then, he would have realized you were telling him in different ways. "I loved you too."

He feels you pet his hair, probably a tangled wreck from being pulled. "I, uh…" You swallow hard, and Mike rests his chin on the hand on your chest, your heart beating against his palm a little too fast.

"You wanna shower before you say whatever you're about to?"

He knows what you're about to tell him. He just wants to make sure you don't regret it when you come back to yourself. "Yeah, probably."

Both of you leave the bed on unsteady legs, Mike leading you to the shower and setting it to your favored temperature. He stands under the spray with you, taking the brunt of the water while kissing you. You move slowly, tangling your tongue with his, mapping out his body with exploratory hands.

Mike is the one to break away after several minutes, insisting on soaping you up and dragging his loofah over your skin. He even sinks to his knees, gentle as he cleans your thighs and between them, careful not to get suds anywhere they're not supposed to be. When he’s finished, Mike presses a kiss to your pelvic bone before standing again, grinning when you pull him back to your face.

He doesn't have the same, short refractory period he used to otherwise he'd fuck you against the tiled wall, but he's content to stay like this, sucking on your lip and pressing against you.

Even after you've been given the chance to get your thoughts in order, you still blink up at Mike, water droplets dotting and falling from your eyelashes as you tell him, "I love you. I still love you. I don't think I can stop."

He holds your head in his hands, brushes his nose against yours as his chest swells with more emotion than he thinks he can actually handle, and his own confession is easy: "I love you, too." Another soft peck to your lips before he adds, "I think you already knew that, though."

"Wasn't positive."

Mike knows there are logistics to consider, but the two of you can work on that later. For now he just wants to finish rinsing off and crawl into bed with you.

He should probably change the sheets, though, and find you pajamas, so Mike does exactly that as you traipse back out to the kitchen for some water, wearing absolutely nothing and making him bite his lip.

He puts new bedding on the mattress, then digs through his dresser for a t-shirt and boxers. Something catches his eye, printed material that almost makes him laugh out loud. He doesn't know why he still has the shorts, especially since he ruined the shirt a long, long time ago, but he's so glad he does.

Pink and covered in palm trees, he can't even fit into them any more, but it's fine. He thinks he knows how he can repurpose them.

But first, he needs to call his mom.

It's an easy fix, really. Before the Sina project even comes close to wrapping up, Mike finds a place for you in his department, something you hadn't thought possible, but apparently he's kind of a big deal in the field.

When he makes you the job offer in the conference room, he's able to keep it professional for a whole three minutes before you agree to the terms, and then he's out of his chair and picking you up to swing around. Just like that, the whole fucking office knows about the two of you.

"Ha! You owe me fifty bucks, Moblit!" Hange shouts for everyone to hear, and you shake your head as the quiet man asks if he can Venmo them.

"I fucking knew it! I knew there was something going on! God, that's so satisfying. I'm not even mad that you're leaving us."

"It's been going on for a long time now," you snort.

Hange leans against the wall and wriggles their eyebrows, "Yeah, what, like, the whole three months we’ve been here?"

"Try ten years," Mike mutters, and the eyes behind Hange's glasses nearly roll out of their head.

You and Mike have to sign a few things, contracts and couples disclosures and what not, but you don't mind.

The first thing you do is ask for a few days off in order to move, and Mike naturally does the same to help. You live just over three hours away, but are able to recruit some help in the form of your old friends.

You let out a shrill scream when you see Erwin step out of his car outside of your apartment complex, all but throw yourself into his arms so that he laughs and squeezes you tight against him. It's been a couple years since you've actually seen him, the distance between you just a little too far, but it's so nice to stare at his stupid face again.

Nile is also there with a very pregnant Marie on his arm, and Hitch and Rhi arrive as all the guys are carrying down the first load of packed boxes.

"Damn, it has been a long time since we've all been together," you say, looking around at everyone and grinning after you tape up another set of cardboard flaps.

"Yeah, kinda weird how we all just get along now," Hitch giggles.

"It's almost like we're adults or something," Rhi adds.

You pass her the box, but she just groans and passes it to Erwin.

Everyone takes turns making trips to Mike's apartment, and the moving effort takes three days in total. You really need to find a way to repay all of them, maybe suggest a nice dinner.

"God, why do you own so much shit, babe?" Mike asks after loading the last shelves of a bookcase into his car (that you still hate).

"Because everything has sentimental value. Don't judge me."

"Oh, I'm judging. When'd you get so soft?"

You roll your eyes and reach past him to close the trunk door.

The others are all standing in the parking lot with you, antsy and excited for the two of you, or so you assume.

"I really can't thank you guys enough. You've made this so much easier," you tell them.

Erwin grins widely and pulls you into a hug, and to your surprise, Hitch slides around you to hold you from behind. It makes you laugh and call them dumb, but when they step back, you're hit with the realization that they weren't just being goofy; they were strategizing, keeping you shielded from Mike who is now kneeling on the asphalt and chewing on his bottom lip.

Your eyes grow wide, and you step back only to run straight into Erwin's chest. He puts two, grounding hands on your shoulders, and you can almost feel his smile as Mike reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box.

A small pink box.

A small pink box with pieces of fucking palm trees wrapping around it.

"Did you get that fucking upholstered?" You shout, and Mike lets out a giddy laugh, his eyes so narrow from grinning that you can barely see the green. "I don't even wanna open it. I cannot believe—"

"Good thing you don't have to open it then," he chuckles. “I do.”

"You are fucking impossible, you know that?"

"Yeah," he agrees before prying the ridiculous box apart and revealing a ring that makes you tear up.

It isn't huge, but it's far from plain, sparkling stones wrapping around it with a larger, round cut in the middle. It's extremely pretty and very you, and oh, you wanna put it on, you wanna put it on right now.

"Don't look too impressed. Mom helped me pick it out, and it’s all ethically sourced, of course," Mike says, and you wipe your eyes while giggling.

"Oh my god, she's crying!" Rhi yells.

"Shut up, it's because of that atrocious box."

Mike looks behind you at Erwin. "I knew she'd love it."

"Yeah, good call, bro."

"I hate both of you."

"Still gonna marry me, though, right?" Mike is still grinning, but you can see the barest hint of worry in his eyes, and you can't blame him because this is big. This is commitment. Marriage. He wants you to marry him.

And, some will say it’s too quick, that you’ve only been actually dating for a couple of months, but it makes sense because if you’re being honest, you never really fell out of love with Mike. He’s always been nestled deep in your heart.

"Against my better judgement," you smirk.

He stands up quick enough to make himself dizzy, has to brace a hand on his car as he kisses you.

"Finally!" Erwin shouts, clapping his hands and being joined by the others.

Mike slides the ring from the terrible box, pushes it onto your finger with shaky hands, and when you admire it in the sun, you look at him and nod. "Very nice, Zacharias. Even in the parking lot setting."

"I just wanted everyone to be here! If we went somewhere fancy, you would've figured it out."

That's true. Going to some nice restaurant or quaint little park would have definitely tipped you off.

"Also, you know once we're married, you will also be Zacharias."

"Yeah," you nod thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess I will be. Hey," you look at him with raised eyebrows. "Wanna shotgun beers at the wedding?"

Mike laughs loudly. "That is how it all started, isn't it?"

"Yeah, this stupid frat boy in a Hawaiian shirt came up to me and demanded I shotgun a room temp beer."

"Sounds like an asshole," Mike chuckles.

You shrug as he pulls you into his chest and sigh into his shirt, "He turned out alright, I guess."

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic

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slasherbastard · 4 years ago

Note

wanna say that I first saw some of your things on ao3 and you're probably one of my favorite slashers x reader authors!!!!! if requests are still open with the prompt list, how about 9, 12, and 13 with Billy Lenz. (and preferably male reader.)

(gif credit: tamajoshi)

You and Billy decided to go camping Word count: 1529 Note: Thank you! You're so sweet aw!

You don't know how you did it but somehow you managed to convince Billy to get out of the attic and go camping with you. You were a little worried about how the camping trip would play out since you knew that Billy wasn't the outdoorsy type - in fact, you weren't actually sure when the last time Billy went out was since all he seemed to know were the attics of the different houses he's hidden in - but at the same time you were way too excited to worry about it. You had never been camping before except for that one time when your parents set up a tent in your backyard for you and your siblings to sleep in but it didn't last since the three of you chickened out after hearing weird noises barely an hour after you'd gotten ready to sleep but this time you were planning on doing it right.

our siblings however were replaced by a man who you found hidden in the family house's attic. It was a long story that started with a sorority house near the university a few miles out from where you lived, your sister lived in the sorority house he was hiding in at the time and did manage to escape and the so called "moaner" was never found. . .until a few weeks after the incident. At first you thought he showed up so he could terrorise your sister who was still very shaken up about what happened, You hadn't realised he was even there until you woke up one night to soft footsteps pacing around the second floor just outside your bedroom door. Thinking it was your sister, you opened it but instead you were met with an unfamiliar face and that's when he told you he wasn't here for your sister but he was actually there for you. You came to visit your sister during the school year and that was the moment you got to witness one of the moaner's infamous phone calls your sister had been telling you about first hand as you had to answer the call because the girls thought it'd be funny to hear the moaner's reaction to a guy, but he just seemed way more into it. So now here you were, going on a camping trip with him.

As you drove you hyped this idea up to Billy, he was nervous about leaving the attic but he was also excited because he got to spend the weekend with you where he didn't have to worry about anyone in your family discovering him accidentally. Billy didn't really know much about camping except from what he'd seen in the horror movies you watched with him that one time but you had to reassure him that this wasn't going to be like Friday the 13th and as much as you wanted to meet Jason Voorhees, he wasn't invited. 'Remember, what do we do if we see any random rock piles or stick figures hanging from trees?'

'Get out of there?'

You nodded and pulled up into the parking lot and split all the bags and equipment between the two of you and set off to find the camping site while Billy quietly muttered things to himself about witches and masked murderers. Soon enough the two of you found a clearing in the middle of the woods just perfect for the occasion and you began building the tent while Billy was out not too far from you collecting sticks for the fire. Of course you had planned to do all the cliché things you thought about when camping came up, smores, campfire songs and ghost stories to name a few of them. You wanted to try sleeping under the stars because you thought it was really cute but then you remembered that bugs exist so that was instantly scratched off the list. You were so caught up with setting up the tent that you hadn't noticed Billy had already came back holding enough sticks to build a small hut with, you could really tell that this was Billy's first time camping. Also how did he carry all of them? Sometimes you forget that Billy is stronger than he looks - not that strong, but still a bit strong.

'Oh! Billy- you scared me. Just put those somewhere out of the way and come help me with this.' You nodded your head towards the tent and continued hammering the stakes down, you heard the abundance of sticks hitting the ground before Billy popped up beside you. 'Can I trust you with this?' You held the hammer up and he nodded a little to excitedly and you hoped that it was because he was excited to be helping you and not because he planned on doing you know what. 'Okay, just hammer in the other two stakes like this. I'm gonna start on the fire.' You handed Billy the hammer and told him to be careful before going off and picking up more than enough from that pile of sticks Billy found and began setting up the campfire, holding it up with rocks you'd also gotten him to find while you were still working out how to put the tent up.

By the time everything had been set up night was already falling since you'd left a little later than you wanted to since you had to be 100% sure that nobody would be home to see the two of you sneak out - but that meant that it was closer to dinner and you of course wanted to make smores, it was exciting since you hadn't had proper smores in a long time and you were sure that Billy had never had smores in his life. At first Billy was just happy eating the ingredients on their own when you had your back turned to him but eventually you managed to make a smore and gave it to Billy who didn't hesitate and bit into it, his eyes immediately lighting up as he swallowed the treat whole without choking and looked at you. 'More.'

'Hey hang on, I need to have some too.' You laughed and handed him a stick with a marshmallow on it. 'Don't eat this one this time or we won't have enough for the rest of the trip.'

After "dinner" the two of you cuddled while you played with Billy's hair idly and warmed up by the fire - Billy kept trying to touch the flames and playing with his hair was the only thing keeping him still and preventing himself from getting hurt. In that moment time seemed to stop and nobody else existed except for you and him and you couldn't help but look watch him and wonder if it was possible to love someone so much even though he was walking proof of it. He turned to you and his expression softened. 'Is Y/N okay?'

'What?' you shook your head, not paying attention.

'Is Y/N okay?'

You smiled. 'Yeah, I was just thinking about something.'

'Me?'

'Maybe.' You tried to hide your smile but couldn't help yourself as you looked up at him and realised he was a bit of a messy eater. 'You still have crumbs on your face. Come here.' You pulled yourself up to his face and brought your hand up and swiped the crumbs from his lip before the same idea clicked in both your minds and the two of you leaned and kissed, his hands found your back while you gently tugged at his hair but pulled back before things got too heated. 'Your lips still taste like chocolate.'

A yawn escaped your mouth, ruining that small moment you were having and you dropped your hand and rested your head on Billy's shoulder. 'It's getting late, maybe we should call it a night.'

'No. We still have so much to do! Billy wants to hear ghost stories.'

'We can do that tomorrow, plus we're here for two more days.'

Billy sighed in defeat but got up and got into the tent while you put out the fire before joining him only to find a sight that made you laugh. You had entered the tent to find that all the pillows were on Billy's side as he comfortably snuggled into them and pulled his sleeping bag up to his chin. The only things safe from his wraith was your sleeping bag and the extra blanket that was stretched out over yours and Billy's sleeping bags that you brought for extra warmth. Rolling your eyes, you got into your own sleeping bag and moved sideways so your head was resting on Billy's stomach instead of the thin fabric of the tent's floor. Confused, Billy tried to sit up and you met his eyes. 'What? You took all the pillows, so I'm using you as one.' You innocently spoke and curled up into him

'Say that again.'

'Hmm? Were you not listening.'

'No. Billy just likes hearing your voice.' You hid your face as you felt it heating up, sometimes he could be the horniest mess of a human but he was also such a sweetheart.

#slasher #writing #horror #black christmas #billy lenz #billy lenz fluff #fluff #billy lenz x reader #billy lenz x male reader

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master-sass-blast · 3 years ago

Text

Care and Trust: Chapter One.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

Summary: "The shockwave hits second.

You’re strolling through Avatar Korra park, out on your lunch break. It’s a beautiful, late winter day; with the sun shining high up in the sky, it’s warm enough that you aren’t shivering like a frightened kitten as you amble along the plaza.

Several people gasp, and you look up in time to see a fireball pluming up over the docks.

And then the shockwave hits.

It hits your chest like an armadillo tiger; the explosion roars through the air, making your ears hurt. You go down, grunting when you hit the snow-covered knoll behind you.

You stand with a groan, brush yourself off, then start booking it to the nearest hospital.

Shit like this always demands all hands on deck."

AKA Plot Finally Happens.

Pairing(s): Lin Beifong x Reader.

Rating: T.

Word count: 2.1k.

The shockwave hits second.

(But, as they say, all good things must come to an end.)

Several people gasp, and you look up in time to see a fireball pluming up over the docks.

And then the shockwave hits.

It hits your chest like an armadillo tiger; the explosion roars through the air, making your ears hurt. You go down, grunting when you hit the snow-covered knoll behind you.

Cries pierce the air. Screams of panic, exclamations of disbelief, exhortations to call the police.

Yeah, you think as you eye the thick, black smoke that belches into the air, something tells me they didn’t miss that.

You stand with a groan, brush yourself off, then start booking it to the nearest hospital.

Shit like this always demands all hands on deck.

***

As predicted, the injury count is high.

You run the halls of Yue General, triaging the more serious patients until things slow enough that you can start checking the ones not actively dying. It’s a non-stop frenzy of gauze, saline, and bandage wraps until you can see the blue glow of your healing whenever you close your eyes.

By the end of it, your feet are practically dead and it’s nearly four in the morning.

You drag yourself onto one of the trams and let the teeth-shaking rattle keep you awake until you’re on your block. You count your steps until you make it to the front door, then let out a sigh of relief when you step into the building lobby.

“Elevator Out of Service. Please Use Stairs.”

You stare at the placard in front of the elevator bay in disbelief, then groan. Fuck my life.

***

The climb up to your floor is agony.

You’re huffing and puffing by the time you make it to your apartment door. You lean against it as you slot the key into the lock, then push inside.

Some distant, responsible part of you manages to turn the deadbolt before your brain shuts off entirely. You kick off your shoes, drop your purse on the ground, then shuffle over to the couch and flop down face first on it.

When you lift your head again, sunlight’s streaming through your living room window.

“Fuck.” You wince, then peel yourself gingerly off the couch. You cringe as your body protests, and rub your hand over the back of your aching neck. You glance at the clock, but the gurgle your stomach makes is more than enough to tell you that it’s past lunch time.

You sit up, then frown when you get a whiff of yourself. Antiseptic and B.O. Not a good combination on anyone.

You need a shower. And food. And a good round of stretching.

Nice, long, hot shower. You smile as you shuffle towards the bathroom. And then take out. Narook’s. With extra squid ink noodles. Your stomach rumbles again. And maybe Golden King’s… mmm, extra summer rolls… with sweet and sour dipping sauce. Yum.

***

You feel more human after showering. You change into sweats and a loose shirt, put in delivery orders at Narook’s and Golden King’s, then flip on your radio before dropping down onto your sofa.

It’s too early in the day for mystery shows, but the disc jockey’s still playing music requests. Smooth jazz --something with a rolling beat and brass--pipes out of the speakers, swirling around your apartment until the mental grime of the previous day starts to fade.

You sink back into your couch and hum along. You sigh and stretch, relish in the ache in your legs as tension leeches from your sore muscles.

The radio hums, then crackles. “We interrupt this broadcast for an announcement from the Republic City Police Department.”

You roll your eyes as an announcer rattles off a report about the explosion yesterday --site is secure, no risk of further fire or explosion, the city police are hard work, stay clear of the site, blah blah blah--then relax when your music starts playing again. Thanks for telling us what we already know. You close your eyes and let yourself drift. Why do they always shove that into every single press release? ‘We’re working hard to serve Republic City and ensure the safety of her citizens--’

Lin.

You gasp and bolt upright; she would’ve attended the scene. Hell, for all you know, she was one of the responding officers.

It’s probable, given her propensity for “hands on police work,” for not staying above the grime and grunge her officers have to work on.

Hell, it’s even likely. Given what you know about Lin, you’d be solid money that she’d rather work the explosion site than deal with the panicking politicians.

Is she okay? You chew on your lower lip as the thought circles your mind like water in the bathtub drain, swirling down and down into blackness.

You blink, and then your phone’s in your hand, and there’s hold music in your ear as the operator makes the connection. You gulp and palm your phone once the music stops and the ringing starts. Please don’t let this be a mistake, please don’t let this be a mistake, please don’t let this be a fucking mistake…

“Chief Beifong’s office. This is her assistant, Ryu, speaking. The Chief is not available at this time, but I can take your message and deliver it to her later.”

You blink at the sound of her assistant’s voice. “Uh… hi…” You swallow, then rattle off your name and callback number before Ryu can hang up on you. “I’m a, uh, friend of Lin’s. I was just calling because --y’know--the explosion--”

“I’m sorry, but the Chief cannot comment on an ongoing investigation--”

“I’m not calling about that,” you interject, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m her friend; I just want to be sure she’s okay.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and when Ryu speaks again, she almost sounds… pleased? “Chief Beifong’s not in right now --but I’ll have her call you back as soon as she’s available.”

“Is she hurt?” you blurt before she hangs up on you.

Another pause. “As far as I know, no.”

“Okay.” You nod, gulp, then nod again. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Have a nice day.”

You eke out something similar, then put your phone back on the hook when the line goes dead. Your heart thuds uncomfortably hard in your chest, and you have to blink a few times before your brain starts working again.

You head back to your couch and jazz --but long gone is your relaxed, exhaustion induced stupor. Anxiety claws at your chest, threatening to snap your ribs and leave you bleeding. You inhale deeply through your nose, then force yourself to let it out slowly so your body calms down. She’ll be fine. She’s got, what, thirty years on the force? This is old hat for her. She’ll keep herself safe.

Still, if you spend the next couple hours watching your phone, that’s no one’s business but yours.

***

Your phone rings around seven in the evening --right as you’re shovelling leftovers from lunch into your mouth.

Go figure.

You half-scramble, half-try-to-not-choke over to the phone; you pick up the phone, try to swallow, then tuck the food in your cheek like a hamster when it’s apparent you’ve got too much in your mouth to swallow. Mom always said I ate like a pack of polar bear dogs. “Heffo?”

There’s a dry huff of laughter on the other end of the line. “I take it I caught you at a good time.”

“Lin!” You cover your mouth with one hand (even though she can’t see you) and alternate between chewing and swallowing. “I --I was ea’in ‘inner.”

“Sounds like you decided to do it all at once.” She chuckles when you grumble, then moves on. “My secretary said you called?”

“Yeah, around lunch time,” you say as you finally get your mouth clear.

“Where I’m presuming you had your mouth full of that meal, too.”

“Fuck you.” You grin when she laughs, then lean against the wall and cradle the receiver against your shoulder. “I just… wanted to check on you. With the explosion and all.”

“You heard about that.”

“The whole city heard it, Lin.” You sigh. “I worked the triage team at Yue General until four in the morning.”

“Shit.” Lin groans, and you can hear the creak of her leather office chair as she sits. “I thought you only did massage therapy?”

“They call everyone who passed a healing course when stuff like this happens,” you explain. “Besides, I had to pass an intensive injury treatment course to get my rehabilitation certification. I’m licensed to assist surgery teams, if need arises.”

Lin hums. “That’s a nice feather in your cap.”

“It pays the bills.” You manage a smile when she lets out a huff of laughter, but the anxiety that’s been circling your brain descends to your stomach. You swallow, then ask, “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” When you don’t respond right away, her voice softens. “I’m fine. A little banged up, but nothing that won’t heal. I wasn’t there when the explosion went off.”

“Okay,” you murmur. You let out a shaky breath, then mentally kick yourself to stop acting like a worried girlfriend, dammit. “Well, if something doesn’t heal, you know where to find me.”

Lin grunts, then chuckles when you laugh. “Get some rest, kid.”

“Already am. You should do the same.” You roll your eyes when she starts grumbling again --about overtime and press conferences and departmental cooperation with the city’s fire brigade--then say, “Call me when you want to keep me up all night again,” and hang up before she can react.

It’s easy to picture her reaction. Open-mouthed, wide-eyed, with that hint of a grin that she hides by smirking.

You bite your lower lip; something warm and smooth settles in your lower gut. You laugh quietly to yourself, then turn and head back for the sofa. Alright, leftovers. It’s just you and me.

***

You’re in the midst of changing the sheets on your massage table when there’s a knock on the door. “Come in.”

The latch clicks, the door swings open, and the receptionist for the Northern Moon Physical Therapy Facility pokes her head into your “office” (which is really just the room you work out of, but it’s yours, and that’s what counts). “A call came in for you.”

You straighten, frowning. “Me?”

She nods. “A request for on-site treatment.” She looks down at the slip of paper in her hand and recites the information from the call. “Republic City Police Department, at one this afternoon. Long session booking. A woman named Ryu called it in.”

Your heart sinks into your shoes. Fucking dammit. “And my other appointments…”

“We’re redistributing them to the other therapists. It was an urgent request.”

Shit.

You sigh, then nod and grab your carry bag off a nearby office chair. “Let me pack up, and I’ll catch one of the trams.”

“They’re sending a car for you.” The receptionist smiles politely, then steps back and starts making her way back down the hall. “It’ll be here in fifteen minutes!”

You run your tongue over your teeth and do what you can to tamp down the aggravation simmering in your stomach. Well, on the bright side, I don’t have to carry the table the entire way.

***

Ryu meets you in the parking garage attached to the police department. She’s sleek, dressed in an impeccably pressed navy blue suit, and there’s not a hair out of place on her head.

In your loose slacks, pale periwinkle blouse, and slapdash braid, you can’t help but feel a bit… frumpy.

She shakes your hand --she’s got a strong, professional handshake--then escorts you through the garage. “Thank you for coming.” She opens a heavy metal door stamped with the police department’s emblem for you. “I’ll take you up to Chief Beifong’s office.”

Your jaw flexes as you follow her down a hall with an immaculately polished slate tile floor. “How’s she been? What kind of pain has she been in?”

Ryu looks at you over her shoulder for a long moment. Her eyes narrow contemplatively, but she turns back around before you can make anything of her expression. “I’ve been asked to let Chief Beifong explain things to you directly.”

Yeah, that tracks. You shift the strap of your carry bag onto your shoulder, then watch the floor counter as the elevator slowly rattles upwards.

#sass writes #lin beifong x reader #this one got cut into multiple pieces due to length #also we have plot now!#five fics into the series dslfjdlfkjdslfkjdslfj #legend of korra #the hands that heal

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fortheloveofwonderland · 4 years ago

Text

Ask the Stars [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]

Find my masterlist here. Requests are Open.

Requested: Yes l No

A/N: I’ve had this idea floating around for a while and finally decided to write it and it flowed liked nobodies business! I LOVED writing this so I hope you enjoy reading it. Special thanks to the angel @dreatine who gave me the title for this fic and showing me the beautiful song the title is from (lyrics for which can be found throughout). Set pre-BAU.

CW: swearing, drinking, mutual pining, friends to lovers, age gap between consenting adults, virgin! Spencer, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, groping. I think that’s everything!

Plot: growing up together, best friends Spencer and the reader have always been secretly in love with one another. But a night together under the stars might be too little too late and with Spencer moving to DC and you to Idaho, that one night may be all you ever get.

WC: 12.2K

—————————————————————

Ask the stars up in the sky,

Ask the stars they’ll tell you why.

Stars know ev’ry little thing you do,

There’s a little star that’s watching you.

Ask the stars when you’re with me,

Ask the stars then watch and see.

Las Vegas, Nevada - 2003

Spencer didn’t think he would have made it through the last ten years of his life and been where he was now if it hadn't been for the family next door.

He was just twelve years old when they’d moved in, struggling to cope with high school bullies and his mom's schizophrenia all on his own.

They would help out with his mom in any way they could, they had him round for dinner when it was too tough for him to go home and they took him along on their annual camping trips every year.

They had been there for him when he’d had to have his mom committed when he was eighteen. They were kind, friendly people. They treated Spencer like their own son.

He liked to pretend when he was with them that they were his family. He liked to play pretend, that he had a loving father and a mom who wasn’t sick.

He lived in a fantasy world whenever he was with them.

But Spencer’s favourite part about the family next door by far, was their daughter, Y/N.

You were four years Spencer’s junior, just an adorable eight year old when you’d moved in next door to the young genius and his mother. The two of you had grown up together and somewhere along the way attraction and feelings developed.

Of course neither one of you had ever said as much. You were best friends, you didn’t want to risk destroying that by confessing your feelings for him.

And besides, at the end of the summer the two of you were going your separate ways; you were off to college in Idaho and Spencer was moving to DC for his illustrious new job at the FBI.

This was the last chance the two of you had to spend time together before everything inevitably changed. So maybe going on a camping trip with your parents at eighteen was a little lame. But there was one reason and one reason alone you were going on the trip.

Spencer Reid.

***

Just as you were lugging the last of your bags out of the front door, you heard the front gate creak open.

Your eyes shot up and landed instantly on his as he slipped through the gate.

You immediately dropped the bag on the floor and were dashing down the front steps and down the path.

“Spence!” You squealed, running at him at speed.

He caught you in his arms and the two of you almost went tumbling back to the concrete but he managed to steady you both.

“Whoa Y/N,” he laughed, wrapping you tightly in his arms. “I missed you too.”

You clung to your best friend, breathing in his scent. He’d only been gone two months finishing up his third PhD, but it felt like forever.

The last few years Spencer’s studies had taken him away from Vegas much more than you would have both liked. He’d missed the last two family camping trips and they had been so dull without him.

You were so happy to have him back for one last trip.

“It’s so good to see you.” You smiled, pulling back from the hug to get a proper look at him. Of course over the years you’d memorised every sculpted curve of his face, those sharp cheekbones, deep set eyes and sinfully plump lips but you would never tire of looking at him.

“Y/N, Spencer, it’s time to go!” Your mom hollered from the street, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Give me a hand with my bag?”

“Of course.” He smiled, following up the path to the house.

You felt lighter when Spencer was around, like all of your worries and fears just melted away.

You had no idea how you would cope with him in DC while you were in Idaho. But that was a problem for another day.

For now you were just revelling in Spencer’s presence.

***

Admittedly camping with your parents was never a terrible experience. Your dad was the outdoorsy type, your mom was not. So they compromised.

Yes you were in the woods but your mom would not allow sleeping in rustic tents. Every year she booked up the most glamorous of tents for your stays. Wood flooring, real beds, even nightstands and lamps.

So technically you were sleeping in a tent, but it was just as comfortable, if not more so than your bedroom at home. The site was equipped with showers and real toilets. It wasn’t really like camping at all.

“Oh Spencer sweetie,” your mom called to him as you were unpacking the car several hours of driving later.

“Yes?” He looked up at her with a smile.

“Did Y/N tell you, we weren’t able to book three pods this year, I must have called late. I hope it’s ok for the two of you to share?”

Wow. Your mom was a better liar than you pegged her to be.

Even your dad seemed to fall for it.

When she’d told you a few days ago, you’d seen right through it.

You knew your mom had known for a long time of your crush on your genius neighbour. She’d probably known before even you did.

So you didn’t question it when she’d told you she’d only been able to book two camping pods, but you were sure your blush gave away exactly what you thought about it.

“Uhm yeah I guess that’s fine.” He shrugged and was that a blush you saw spreading to his cheeks? “I’ve got my sleeping bag, I can just sleep on the floor.”

Not if I have anything to do with it, you thought but his response seemed to appease your father.

Once Spencer went back to emptying the bags from the car your mom gave you a look and a small smirk.

You tried not to blush. Your mom had always been pretty cool for a mom and you had never been more grateful for that until right now.

You finished unpacking the car and took your stuff to your allocated tent to change before heading down to the lake.

Spencer took some clothes to the toilets to change and you spent longer than was necessary picking out the perfect bathing suit.

The last time Spencer had seen you in a bathing suit was two years ago and boy had your body changed in two years. You couldn’t wait to show it off to him.

You just hoped he liked what he saw.

***

Thankfully Spencer had already dived into the water before you took off your summer dress and unsheathed the glorious body you were hiding underneath the fabric.

The water made for a great way to hide the erection that almost immediately grew when he saw you in that bathing suit.

He tried not to look at you, mostly because your parents were there and he was sure they wouldn’t be happy with him gawking over their daughter.

But he was in essence, a cold blooded male. He’d had a crush on you for about as long as he could remember, you’d grown up together, surely it was only inevitable?

But you were his best friend. You were the only real friend he’d ever had. And he didn’t want to ruin that by sexualising you. But god that would be so much easier to do if you weren’t so damn hot.

When had you stopped being the adorable girl next door who used to play with her pony toys in the front yard? When did you become this drop dead gorgeous woman standing before him in a scantily clad bathing suit?

You had changed since the last time he’d seen you in so little clothes. You’d developed curves in what Spencer thought was all the right places.

You looked up and your eyes met his and you gave him a bright smile that made him feel a little weak. You walked to the edge of the lake and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.

You walked with poise, a sense of a confidence Spencer could never muster. He watched as you dove into the water so gracefully, and re-emerge a few feet in front of him.

You pushed your wet hair off your face and waded closer to him, wiping the water from your eyes.

Spencer felt a lump forming in his throat the closer you got. His eyes betrayed him and they fell to your chest, the water droplets rolling over your skin shimmered in the sun.

How I want to lick those beads of water off your skin.

“You ok?” You laughed, coming to a stop in front of him.

“M-me? Y-yes why wouldn’t I b-be.” He stuttered at the close proximity he now found himself in to you. He could reach out and touch you. He could reach out and kiss you.

He did neither.

“Come here,” he raised your hands out of the water. “Your hair is going to get in your eyes.”

You gently stroked a strand of Spencer’s wet hair out of his face and it sent a shiver racing up his spine.

His cock was aching. He’d never been touched by a woman in such a way. He’d never been touched by a woman in any way and honestly it felt like he could blow his load just from you stroking back his hair.

“Much better.” You smiled at him, leaving him feeling a little downtrodden when you withdrew your hand.

“Uh thanks.” He croaked, feeling light headed.

“You’re welcome.”

For a moment the two of you stared at each other, eyes locked as though communicating subconsciously.

Spencer wanted to grab hold of you and kiss you like there was no tomorrow. He wanted to pull you close and feel your body pressed up against his own, run his fingers over your every curve.

He wanted his hands to get lost in your hair. He wanted to bury himself between your thighs. He wanted to feel you, to taste you.

Honestly you were thinking the same, he just didn’t know it. His white t-shirt cling to his skin now soaked in water and you could just make out the soft skin of his chest underneath. You wanted to run your hands over that skin, through his hair, over every part of his body.

You wanted to feel him inside of you, his fingers, his cock, anything. You wanted to stare deep into his eyes while he made you come.

All of a sudden Spencer snapped out of his trance before he did something to make a fool of himself.

“I’ll race you to the next dock!” He dove beneath the surface before you had time to register his words.

You watched him go, splashing a lot as he swam, gangly limbs flailing.

It took you a few seconds to pick your mind up out of the gutter and start swimming after him.

Being the much more adept swimmer, despite Spencer’s head start you managed to beat him to the next dock.

He was much more out of breath than you when he arrived.

“How did you get into the FBI again?” You laughed as he gripped hold of the dock for dear life.

“They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field.” He panted.

“Clearly.” You teased. “Ohh and look, we’re right by the jet ski hire!” You pulled yourself up on the dock and sat on the edge looking down at Spencer.

“You know I hate those things. Did you know there are around seven hundred jet ski related accidents every year which results in approximately forty deaths? I don’t like those odds, I’ll wait on the dock.”

He tried and failed to get out of the water and in the end you had to help hoist him up.

“No way, you're coming with me.” You stood up and pulled him to his feet as well.

“I most certainly am not.” He made the mistake of looking into your eyes. Those beautiful expressive eyes that could probably make him commit murder.

“Please?” You asked softly and he was like putty in your hands.

“F-fine.” He grumbled.

“Yay!” You squealed a little, throwing yourself into his arms.

Your body pressed up against his and he tentatively wrapped his arms around you.

Your wet bathing suit and his wet t-shirt clung to each other and he could feel your every curve.

Thankfully you pulled away before he got too excited. You took hold of his hand now and started leading him towards the hire booth.

Honestly he’d let you lead him anywhere.

***

Spencer was still shaking almost ten minutes after pulling up in the small alcove a way up the lake and dismounting the jet ski.

He’d enjoyed the close proximity with you it had involved but it didn’t make up for the sheer terror of your haphazard driving.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You laughed staring down at him as he laid on the grass.

“All I’ll say is, if you drove a car like that I would never let you drive me anywhere.”

“It’s a jet ski Einstein, they are supposed to go fast.” You nudged his ribs with your toe. “Get up, we need to head back.”

“I would literally rather swim back.” He groaned.

You rolled your eyes, nudging his ribs again.

“It’s probably almost a mile back, don’t be so dramatic.” You leant over him and took hold of his hands, pulling him into a sitting position. “How about you drive? That way we can go at a granny pace.”

“Funny.” He grumbled, getting to his feet. “But I will drive actually. I’d rather not die of a heart attack on this lake.”

You slid the rubber band over your hand that the key dangled from and tossed it at Spencer.

He flapped about trying to catch it and just managed to stop it falling to the floor.

You got in your positions on the jet ski. You wrapped yourself tighter around him than was necessary, your arms snaking around his waist and resting on his stomach.

Spencer shuddered but he hoped you would think it was due to the wind.

It could have been the wind but the timing seemed a little too convenient. Did your touch really have that effect on him? He’d never given you any indication that he liked you in that way, but could it be possible? Maybe you would have to test that out.

Spencer took a tentative breath and started the jet ski’s engine. You tightened your hold on him as it started moving.

Spencer was slow to start with just like you had assumed he would be. It was quite nice actually. You had a chance to revel in the way the water felt as it splashed onto your bare legs, the way the wind felt in your hair.

But mostly you were wrapped up in the way it felt to be this close to Spencer.

You pressed your chest into your back, making sure he could feel your breasts on him. You started by gently moving your fingers over the fabric of his t-shirt, round in little circles on his stomach.

As he picked up the speed a little you dared to let your fingers drop a little lower, over his hip bones. You felt him tense a little but due to the sound of the jet ski you didn’t hear the way his breath hitched at your touch.

You moved your hands again, your fingers gently grazing the waistband of his swim shorts.

Spencer practically jumped at your touch so near his crotch and he inadvertently swerved sharply, so sharply that it sent the two of you flying off the seat and crashing into the water.

The engine cut off when the key attached around Spencer’s wrist was yanked out with him.

You both broke the surface, spluttering a little.

“What the hell Spencer?” you pushed your hair back off your face. “Why did you do that?”

Because you have no idea how long I have wanted you to touch me like that.

“You uh...your...I don’t know. I just lost control I guess.” he didn’t want to tell you that your touch had sent him into a tailspin and he had completely lost his focus.

But you had a pretty good idea that was what had happened. And if that was the case, why? Why had your touch affected him in that way? Surely he did not feel for you the way you felt about him?

It couldn’t be possible. But it surely did seem that way.

“I’ll drive the rest of the way.” you told him, rather than pushing him. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

But you might have to test this more, maybe on stable ground.

You both climbed back up onto the jet ski, Spencer slightly less gracefully than you, and he handed you over the key.

You made it back to the jet ski hire with no further incident and Spencer was happy to be back on dry land. Although he did miss the closeness the jet ski brought.

“I need to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back ok?” Spencer told you while you returned your life vests.

“Sure, I’ll be here.” you gave him a soft smile.

He couldn’t help but give your body a once over again, it was accidental, he couldn’t stop himself. The feeling of your fingers on his waistband and your chest pressed up against his back were imprinted in his mind and by the time he reached the bathroom he was hard again.

Making sure there was no one else in the bathroom he shut himself in one of the cubicles. He leant against the closed door and exhaled a shaky breath.

It wouldn’t be the first time he had touched himself while thinking of you but this seemed dirty. This wasn’t the comfort of his own bedroom where no one would catch him.

But he knew he needed to take care of this otherwise it would plague him all day.

With another shaky breath he relieved himself from his swim shorts. He closed his eyes, taking his length in his hand and started stroking himself. He bit his lip hard to stem his moans as he pictured you in that sinful bathing suit.

He imagined your fingers moving from his waistband inside his pants and tried to imagine it was your fingers wrapped around him.

He was panting and mumbling your name in no time and it didn’t take long at all for him to come.

He cleaned himself up as well as the tiled floor he had dirtied before using the facilities and heading back outside.

God he hoped you wouldn’t see his deed written all over his face, he would be mortified.

But by the looks of it, you were too busy to notice anything.

The guy putting the moves on you was shorter than Spencer but much more broad and muscular. He had sun kissed skin and beach blonde hair. He had a charming smile and it was clearly working its magic on you.

Spencer approached slowly, you didn’t seem to notice. As he reached your side the man looked over at him with a frown.

“Can we help you?” he asked Spencer.

“Spence, hi.” you smiled at him before turning all your attention back on the other man. “Greg, this is my best friend Spencer. Spencer, this is Greg.”

Best friend, of course, because that’s how you saw him. Friends. Only ever friends.

You hadn’t had any intention of talking to someone while Spencer was gone but when Greg had approached you, you engaged in friendly conversation.

He was attractive, sure, but in your eyes he had nothing on Spencer.

But there was something in Spencer’s eyes that looked a lot like jealousy. Maybe you could use Greg to your advantage?

“Greg invited us to a party at the lake tonight.” you spoke when neither man said anything.

“I actually invited you to a party.” Greg corrected you.

“Oh.” Spencer squeaked a little.

“I’m only coming if Spencer does.” You told Greg with a seductive smile.

Greg smiled at you and stepped a little closer.

“How can I say no to a face like yours.” He ran his finger over your cheek and Spencer wanted to smack him. “I’ll see you tonight babe.” He winked at you before sauntering away.

“He seems like a complete jackass.” Spencer grumbled once Greg was out of ear shot.

“You didn’t even speak to him.” You frowned at your friend.

“Neither did you, not really. I was only gone five minutes. I don’t think we should go to that party.”

“And why not?” You folded your arms over your chest.

“Because we don’t know him. He could be some creep for all we know.”

“I don’t think that’s what’s bothering you.” You stepped closer to Spencer making him swallow. “Are you jealous Spencer?”

“W-what?” He croaked. “Jealous? W-why would I be j-jealous?”

It was written all over his face. He was jealous.

“I don’t know Spence, you tell me.” You stepped even closer to him now, so close he could feel your breath on his face.

You let your hands drop to your side.

“Do you want me for yourself Spencer? Because you know all you’d have to do is ask.”

Good god, what are you doing to me?

Of course he wanted you all to himself, it’s all he’d ever wanted. But that didn’t change the fact you were his best friend and you were moving to different states.

Telling you he wanted you was completely pointless.

“Of course not.” He tried to scoff, forcing himself to step back away from you. “If you want Greg that’s fine by me.”

“Fine.” You spat.

“Fine.” Spencer mirrored.

And with that you turned on your heels and stormed away.

Maybe you’d been wrong after all. Of course Spencer didn’t like you. What a stupid thought that had been.

***

That night your dad allowed you and a very reluctant Spencer to use his car to head back to the lake and meet Greg and his friends.

You and Spencer hadn’t said much of anything to each other since that afternoon but if your parents had noticed they didn’t say anything.

You felt foolish for thinking he could have possibly been jealous. Of course there was no way the brilliant Spencer Reid looked at you that way. There was no way he would deem you smart enough or interesting enough.

It had clearly all been in your head. Or so you thought.

But of course it hadn’t.

Spencer had wanted to scream at you that of course he was jealous and of course he wanted you all to himself, but he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. There was no way he was confessing his feelings for you. He’d done a good job of keeping them hidden up until now and he certainly wasn’t going to let Greg be the reason he told you.

He would take his feelings for you to the grave. It was easier that way. It was easier than ruining your friendship.

You drove to the lake in stifled silence. Normally small talk wasn’t an issue for the two of you, you could talk about anything and everything for hours on end. But for the first time, neither of you had anything to say to one another.

Thankfully it wasn’t a long drive to the lake and you pulled up soon enough and exited the car as soon as you shut off the engine.

Spencer sighed loudly once alone in the car. This was the last time the two of you would be together in god knows how long and you were in a fight already on the first day of the trip.

He didn’t think the two of you had ever fought, not properly anyway. Was this a fight? Spencer wasn’t even sure. He hoped not. He spent a few minutes alone in the car just collecting himself.

He got out of the car and followed in your footsteps. You were already down by a bonfire near the lake edge with none other than Greg. Greg had his arm around your shoulders as he handed you a bottle of beer which you took with a smile.

Spencer took a deep breath before heading towards you. He really didn’t want to be a third wheel with the two of you but he also didn’t have the kind of confidence it took to go and talk to new people.

Third wheel it is.

“Hi,” you barely acknowledged him as he joined you and Greg and if Spencer wasn’t mistaken you moved your body closer to Greg.

He gave you a half-smile and nodded in Greg’s direction.

“Can I get you a beer?” Greg asked him.

“No thanks. One of us is going to have to drive back and looks like that’s going to be me.” Spencer shrugged, trying not to sound annoyed but he clearly did because he saw you roll your eyes.

“Want to take a walk Greg?” you smiled at the other man who gave your shoulders a squeeze as he eyed you up and down.

“I would love that.” he chuckled and before Spencer knew it he was leading you away from him.

It had been all of two minutes and you had already abandoned him. Great.

He turned away from the lake and started back up towards the car assuming he would just wait for you there while you were off doing god knows what with Greg.

He made his way towards the car but didn’t get very far before someone ran into him, knocking him to the floor.

“Ow.” he groaned as he hit the ground, someone landing roughly on top of him.

“Oh my gosh, I am so, so sorry!” she pushed herself off of him, standing up before holding out a hand to help him.

Spencer took it and allowed the stranger to pull him to his feet.

“I was chasing after a frisbee and I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you ok?” she was smiling sweetly at him and Spencer couldn’t help but think it was a very pretty smile.

Maybe not as pretty as yours but pretty in its own right.

“It’s ok.” he told her, shaking it off. “These things happen. I’m uh...I’m Spencer.”

She smiled again and nodded.

“Rose.” she replied. “Would you care to join me for a drink Spencer?”

“You know what?” Spencer smiled. “I don’t mind if I do.”

***

You and Greg had walked further up the lake and found a spot near the water's edge to sit. It didn’t take long before his lips were on yours and his fingers were in your hair.

It was...nice. It was nothing special but it was ok. And you couldn’t help but wish it was Spencer’s lips pressed against your own.

When Greg’s hands moved from your hair down to your breasts, palming them through your top a little roughly, you pushed him back.

“Nuh uh.” you shook your head frowning at him. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh come on babe, we’re just having a little fun.”

“We can have fun without you groping me.” you picked up your beer bottle and swigged from it.

“I didn’t peg you as a prude Y/N.” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Because I’m not. I prefer the term selective.” you scoffed.

He didn’t take your reluctance as a no however and he moved in again, his lips latching on to your neck and his hand finding your thigh.

He moved his hand higher up your bare leg, over your denim shorts and soon his fingers were toying with the button.

Once again you pushed him, harder than before.

“Hey asshole.” you spat. “I said no.”

He rolled his eyes, picking up his own beer, downing the contents and then tossing it away.

“You’re a drag.” he groaned. “Is this because of that pipe cleaner friend of yours?”

“No.” you pushed yourself up from the ground, grabbing your beer. “This has nothing to do with Spencer. I just don’t like pushy men who think they’re god's gift to women.”

You turned away from him and started back towards the bonfire you could see burning brightly in the distance.

“Girls like you are a dime a dozen.” he called after you.

You flipped him the bird over your shoulder but you didn’t turn back to look at him.

“Asshole.” you muttered to yourself.

You should have listened to Spencer, he’d always been a good judge of character. Maybe you’d have to apologise to him.

You made your way back to the bonfire to find him and make up but you didn’t have to look far.

He was sitting on one of the logs next to the fire but he wasn’t alone.

He had a petite redhead sitting in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck. And her lips were hungrily exploring his.

“Oh god.” you felt like you’d just been kicked in the chest, like all the air had been forced from your lungs.

You lost your grip on the beer bottle and it fell to the ground.

His hands were gently on her hips, holding her place while he explored her mouth.

Your tears came out of nowhere, alarming you as they started heavily cascading down your cheeks.

Just as a sob wracked your body, you took off running up the bank and towards the car.

You couldn’t watch anymore. Seeing Spencer kiss that girl made your heart feel like it was shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.

You got back in the car and sobbed. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Spencer and that girl, locking lips.

And all you could think was, it should be me.

***

“Sorry if that was really forward of me.” Rose blushed a little when the kiss ended.

Spencer was blushing too, but he had been since their lips first touched.

“I-it’s o-ok.” he stuttered, completely baffled by what had just happened. “I-it was n-nice.”

“I hope it was a little more than nice.” Rose giggled.

But it wasn’t. It was simply nice. It was a nice kiss but it wasn’t with you. He’d kissed girls before but it never felt quite right. And he knew it was because he wasn’t kissing you.

He didn’t speak, he couldn’t find the right words to say.

Rose’s face fell a little and she slid off Spencer’s lap onto the log next to him.

“I know that look.” she chewed her lip. “That’s the look of a guy who is thinking about someone else.”

He wanted to argue with her but it seemed pointless.

“I’m sorry.” He shrugged pathetically. “You’re beautiful and you have no idea how much I wish I wasn’t thinking about someone else. But I am. I always am.”

“It’s ok.” She placed her hand gently on his knee. “It was nice to meet you Spencer.” She pushed herself up from the log.

“You too Rose.” He stood too, needing to find you before you did anything stupid with Greg.

Just as he had this thought, Greg came wandering towards the bonfire alone.

“Where’s Y/N?” Spencer rushed over to him.

“How should I know?” Greg scoffed. “That girl is a cock tease. Not worth my time.”

“Don’t say that.” Spencer practically whined, making Greg chuckle.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Greg snarled at him.

“I uh...I need to find Y/N.” He changed the subject. He did not want to get into a fight because he would most certainly lose.

“Whatever.” Greg scoffed, turning away from Spencer.

Spencer scanned the crowds but couldn’t see you, he knew he’d be able to pick you out of any crowd.

He practically sprinted back to the car, hoping to find you there and as luck would have it, there you were in the driver's seat.

But even in the dark he could see that you were crying.

He ran to the passenger door and flung it open.

“Oh my god Y/N, what’s wrong?” He threw his arms around you, pulling you closer over the console.

“Get off me.” You pushed him away, sniffing back your tears.

“What’s wrong? What did Greg do?” He asked clearly not noticing your hostility towards him.

You sighed, not wanting to tell your best friend you were crying over seeing him kiss another girl, you shook your head, fixing your seatbelt in place.

“Nothing. I just want to forget all about tonight.” You started the engine.

“O-ok.” Spencer chewed his lip.

Neither of you spoke again on the drive back to the campsite or once you were back in your pod.

You slipped into the bed and Spencer in his sleeping bag on the floor.

Neither of you got much sleep that night, you both had too much on your mind. Namely, being in love with your best friends who were seemingly oblivious.

***

The next morning when you awoke you decided today was a new day. You weren’t going to allow yourself to spend the whole trip being mad at Spencer.

You’d never seen him with a girl before, it had been a shock. But he was twenty two, he must have had girlfriends before you guess he’d just chosen not to tell you. And it wasn’t as though you’d never been with a man.

You resided yourself to the fact that you and Spencer were destined to be friends and that was ok. At least it would be ok. It had to be.

You knelt down on the floor next to his sleeping bag and watched him for a second. He was sound asleep, his breathing soft and even. His plump lips were parted ever so slightly and his hair was draped over the pillow. His eyelashes grazed the skins under his eyes.

Maybe it would be a little harder than you thought to just see him as a friend.

Suddenly his eyes fluttered open and landed on you.

He frowned a little, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“Uh...good morning.” He croaked, voice riddled with sleep. “Were you staring at me while I slept?”

“No.” You scoffed, standing back up. “I was just wondering if I could free your hand and put it in a glass of water, see if that peeing thing really works.” You started rummaging through one of your bags to hide your blush from Spencer.

“Mature.” He laughed a little as he sat up. “Hey Y/N, are you ok?”

You took a few deep breaths and turned back to him with a large, fake smile on your lips.

“I’m great.” You beamed. “Now get up sleepy head, we’re going for a hike!”

And with that you took your clothes and stepped over him, undoing the front of the tent pod and disappearing.

Spencer ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh.

He wished falling out of love with you was as easy as it had been falling in love with you.

Not being in love with his best friend would make his life so much easier. But life never was good to Spencer.

***

Spencer loved your family but you were all much more athletic than he could ever hope to be. After a five mile hike, Spencer was exhausted. Sweat made his shirt cling to his body and his hair stick to his forehead.

When your mom had suggested stopping for the picnic she had packed, he was more than happy to oblige.

He practically fell to the grass on his back, panting and sweating.

“If it wasn’t for that huge brain of yours there is no way you would have gotten into the FBI.” you laughed as you flopped down next to him.

“Be nice Y/N.” your mom scalded you to which you rolled your eyes.

Your mom set some food while your dad poured glasses of soda for you all. You spent an hour sitting in the sunshine eating while Spencer worked on getting his breath back.

They still had a five mile walk back.

Spencer found himself stealing glances at you as you ate, like he usually did. He never grew tired of watching you.

You were wearing cargo pants and a vest top. His eyes caressed the side of your neck and the curve of your shoulder and your collarbone. Your skin glistened a little from the heat.

His eyes grazed up to the side of your face and the stray strand of hair that fell onto your face. He wanted to lean in and tuck behind your ear but that seemed too intimate.

He must have been watching you for a long time because when he resurfaced from his thoughts your mom was packing up what was left of the picnic.

“Spence and I will make our way back.” You stood up and brushed down the back of your cargo pants.

“Don’t get lost.” You dad shot you a sarcastic look.

“We’ll be fine. Come on Spence.” You encouraged to which he stood too.

“See you later.” He waved at your parents before following where you had already started walking.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” He asked once he caught up with you.

“No idea.” You shrugged.

“Oh good, just what I want. To get lost in the woods with you.” He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah I’m sure you’d much rather get lost in the woods with that redhead from last night, right?” The bitterness was seeping from your words.

Spencer stopped in his tracks.

“Uh...what redhead?” He tried to lie, he didn’t know what you’d seen so he didn’t want to give away too much.

“Don’t play dumb Spencer.” You stopped too so you could look at him. “The one who was cosied up on your lap, eating your face.”

“Oh. That redhead.” He chewed his lip. “I uh...didn’t realise you saw that.”

“Well I did.” You shrugged. “Looked like you were having fun.”

“It w-was...she was nice I guess.”

“Good.” You spat a little more harshly than you’d meant to.

Spencer frowned, stepping closer to you, leaves crunching under foot.

“Are you annoyed?”

“What? No. Why would I be annoyed?” You scoffed, giving him your best eye roll.

“You seem annoyed.”

“Well I’m not.”

“Good. Because you wouldn’t have any right to be.” It was like he was poking a bear with a stick. He was trying to get a rise out of you.

“And why wouldn’t I?” It was working, you were rising to it.

“Because you left me alone while you went off to do god knows what with Greg. I had to pass the time somehow.”

“By sticking your tongue down some random girl's throat?”

“I’m sure you were doing much more with him.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You growled, stepping closer to him now.

“You know exactly what that means.” He stepped closer to you too, as though you were challenging each other.

“You really think I was off fucking him?” You raised your voice. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Weren’t you?” He shrugged.

“I most certainly was not! He tried to get fresh with me and I pushed him away. He was a jackass! And then I come back to find you making out with that girl!”

“So you are annoyed about that?”

“Yes, happy? Yes I am annoyed about that.” You yelled.

Spencer closed the space between you but you stepped backwards away from him. He backed you into a tree where you collided with the bark.

He put his hands either side of your head pinning you in place.

Where had this side of him come from?

“Why are you annoyed Y/N?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t.” You tried to insist but you knew he could see right through you.

“Tell me. Tell me why you’re annoyed with me for Christ sakes Y/N! What did I do that was so wrong? I was just having some fun.”

“Without me.” You pouted.

“I can’t have fun without you?”

“No, it’s not that.” You shook your head, very conscious of how close Spencer was to you.

“So what is it then? Tell me.”

“I don’t like seeing you with another girl ok?” You raised your voice again.

“But I have to see you with another man?”

“I offered myself to you Spencer. I said all you had to do was ask. You said no. What was I supposed to think?”

“Y-you…you meant that?” His facade faltered and his hands fell to his sides.

“Of course I did.” You spat.

“You...you…” he swallowed.

“It should have been me you were kissing. Asshole.” You mumbled pathetically.

Spencer didn’t know what came over him at that moment but he couldn’t hold back.

He took your face in his hands and pushed you back against the tree trunk before pressing his lips to yours.

For a moment you kissed him back but then your anger returned and suddenly you were pushing him away.

“Stop it!” You yelled. “It’s too little too late Spencer. I don’t want to be your second choice. I don’t want you after she’s had you.”

“S-second choice? Y/N you could never be my-“

“Save it.” You pushed passed him and started walking again. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. We need to get back before it starts getting dark.”

You didn’t know what had come over you. All you’d ever wanted was to feel Spencer’s lips on yours. But when he kissed you, all you could think of was that redhead from last night.

And it broke your heart all over again.

***

“Spence?” You whispered into the dark. “Spence are you awake?”

It had been a long, awkward walk back followed by a long, awkward evening back at the campsite with your parents.

You and Spencer had said barely two words to each other before you called for an early night and crawled into your bed.

“Yeah I’m awake.” He whispered in reply from the floor.

“I’m...I’m really cold.” You felt foolish but you were freezing, you couldn’t seem to warm up.

And the only thing you could think that would help would be Spencer’s warm body next to you.

You heard him sigh followed by some rustling. Then you saw his silhouette beside the bed.

“You want me to warm you up?” He asked softly.

“If it’s not...too much to ask.” You didn’t deserve him being kind to you but that was the thing about Spencer, he was always there when you needed him. No matter what.

He sighed again before lifting the covers and sliding into the bed.

“Come here.” He held his arm open for you and you slid closer to him, his arm wrapping around your waist and you rested your head on his chest.

As suspected, he was radiating warmth. You snuggled into him sighing in content. He ran his fingers up and down your side.

“I’m sorry about earlier Y/N.” he spoke into your hair.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you, not like that. It was wrong of me and I’m sorry.”

You shifted a little so you could look up at him.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, Spence. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. I just...I don’t like the way I felt seeing you with that girl.”

“It didn’t feel great for me seeing you with Greg either.” he cupped your face with his free hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship, Spence.” a tear escaped your eye. “You’re my best friend and I don’t want to do anything to change that. But I can’t pretend that it didn’t hurt to see you with another girl. And I suppose that means I have feelings for you that go beyond friendship. But I can’t lose my best friend Spence.” a few more tears fell and Spencer tried to wipe them away with his thumb.

“I know Y/N, me too.” He agreed, chewing his lip.

You settled back into his chest and he tightened his hold on you. If this was as close as he could have you then he was going to soak in every moment.

Eventually you both fell asleep, into peaceful slumbers brought on by being wrapped in each other’s embraces.

***

For the rest of the week you and Spencer avoided unnecessary touches and glances each other’s way.

You tried to act normal. You tried to act like you hadn’t kissed and spent the night in each other’s arms.

You knew your parents suspected something was amiss with the two of you, you weren’t quite as pally as you usually were but neither of them said anything.

You spent days at the lake, you went for hikes and sat around the campfire in the evenings as the sunset around you.

On your final night your parents retired to their pod but you remained sitting on one of the logs, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“Are you coming to bed?” Spencer asked you softly.

“Not yet, I might watch the stars for a while.”

“Want company?” He smiled at you and you nodded.

He laid his own blanket out of the ground and motioned for you to come over.

You laid side by side on your backs and you draped your blanket over the top of you both as you stared up at the sky.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving for DC when we get back.” You sniffed back any tears that might fall. “I have to spend the rest of the summer at home without you.”

“You’ll be off to college in a few weeks. You’ll forget all about me.”

You rolled your head to the side and he did the same so you were looking at each other.

“Spence, I could never forget you.” You reached for his hand and entwined your fingers.

He sighed in content at your touch. It was the most physical contact you’d had in almost a week.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m going to miss you too Spence.”

You laid like that under the stars, just staring into each other’s eyes for some time. There were so many things you both wanted to say but nothing seemed good enough.

Somehow you ended up closer together on the blanket, you’re not sure how it happened. You weren’t sure if you’d moved closer or if Spencer had or maybe you both had, but somehow you ended up with barely a few inches between your faces.

You could feel his soft breath on your face and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his lips. That kiss had burned itself into your brain and you couldn’t believe you’d pushed him away before you got to really enjoy it.

“Spence,” you whispered after a long stretch of silence.

“Yes Y/N?”

“All you have to do is ask.” You repeated what you’d said to him at the lake your first day.

He knew exactly what you meant and it made his chest tighten at the mere thought.

“Y/N?” He whispered, edging even closer to you.

“Yes?”

“Can I...c-can I kiss you?” He stuttered.

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t Spence.”

He let go of your hand so he could cup your cheek and slowly closed the small space between you.

This time when your lips met it was slow and soft. You revelled in the feeling of his plump, pillowy lips pressed against yours for a moment before you cautiously parted your lips.

Spencer was tentative in his movements as though you may push him away again at any moment.

But of course you didn’t. He slid his tongue in your mouth and started exploring you, slowly at first but soon an animal instinct took over.

He explored your mouth hungrily, holding your face delicately in his large hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck and helped him roll on top of you.

He was hard already, you could feel it pressing against you and you knew a kiss wasn’t going to be enough.

You played with his hair, tugging it a little and he moaned into your mouth, subconsciously grinding his hips into yours.

You dared to let your hands roam his back until you reached the hem of his hoodie and slipped your hands under the fabric.

He moaned again at the feeling of your hands on the skin of his back. It spurred you on to rake your nails lightly over his flesh. You were met with another hard roll of his hips.

The kiss ended so you could both gasp for the air that had left your lungs. Spencer chewed his lip nervously, scared of what might happen next.

“Should w-we uh...do you want to go into t-the tent?” he was so unsure of himself. He didn’t want to sound as though he was being presumptive.

“No,” you whispered, but you were smiling. “I want to stay out here.”

“B-but your parents…”

“Sleep like logs.” you laughed, stroking back his hair. “Spencer, I want you to make love to me under the stars. Do you think that’s something...something you can d-do?” you suddenly felt nervous telling him what you wanted. Maybe that’s not what he wanted? Maybe it was just a kiss?

But the hiss that slipped from his lips told you it was exactly what he wanted.

“I-I...there is n-nothing in the world I want m-more.” he swallowed. “B-but I...I’ve never...done this before.” his cheeks turned crimson in an instant.

Your heart swelled. You had no idea. You assumed Spencer was just quiet about his exploits. You had no idea he’d never been with a woman before.

“Oh,” you didn’t really know what to say. “Is this...have you ever pictured, you know, what your uh...first time would be like?”

His blush deepened and he gnawed heavily on his lip.

“All the time.” he confessed. “And it’s always with you.”

“Kiss me Spence.” you smiled at him, pulling him closer again by his neck.

Your lips met again but this time it was much more frantic and desperate, now you both knew exactly where this was going.

You hooked your fingers under the hem of his hoodie and pulled it up his body. He sat back so he could pull it over his head.

“T-shirt too.” you told him with a smirk while he was sat up.

He looked a little nervous but he complied. In all the years you’d known Spencer you didn’t think you’d ever seen him shirtless before. He was always conservative, insecure about how skinny he was. But in that moment he didn’t have time to worry about his insecurities, all he wanted was you and that was all that mattered.

He discarded the items of clothing, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Your eyes raked up and down his torso and soon your fingers followed suit, running over his flesh. He hissed again, telling you he liked it.

“W-what about you?” you swallowed nervously.

“What about me?” you smirked. You knew what he meant but you wanted to hear him say it.

“Y-you uh...can I...your dress?” he was blushing again and it was so adorable.

“Spencer, you can do whatever you like to me.” your voice was dripping with seduction and it made his cock twitch achingly. Oh how he’d dreamed of this moment.

His hands were shaking as he reached for the bottom of your dress. He was slow to raise the fabric, making sure you weren’t going to change your mind.

He inched it up your thighs and paused when he got it to your hips. The black pair of lace panties you wore underneath made his head spin.

“Oh gosh.” he panted a little as he spoke.

You smiled, arching your back so he could continue undressing you. Inch by inch the fabric got higher and higher, revealing more of your body.

Once you had discarded the dress, Spencer sat back again to take you all in. Your panties had a matching bra, cupping your breasts magnificently.

“Do you like what you see, Spence?”

“Are you kidding?” He smiled. “You are perfection Y/N.”

You raked your nails down his chest once more and came to a stop at the waistband of his trousers. You toyed with the button a little.

“Can I?” You whispered.

He chewed his lip and nodded.

You unbuttoned his trousers and tugged them over his hips. He wriggled out of them and tossed them in a pile with the rest of the clothes.

His cock was straining at the front of his boxers, begging to be freed.

You allowed yourself to palm him through his underwear. His head fell back and he moaned deeply.

“Oh gosh.” He panted. “I’m sorry, no ones ever touched me like this before.”

You smiled to yourself, loving that no other woman had been here before. But you could also tell if you were to touch him properly, he wouldn’t last to the main event.

You moved your hand to his wrist and guided his hand between your legs instead.

You panties were soaked already.

He looked at you with large, uncertain eyes, but you nodded in encouragement.

“Please Spencer?”

He swallowed.

“What if I’m no good.” He whined a little.

“It’s ok baby,” you cooed. “You could never make me feel anything other than amazing.”

You let go of his wrist and his fingers shakily played with the lace fabric.

He took a few deep breaths before he moved the fabric aside enough so he could get to your heat.

He was so cautious with his movements, trying to ensure he was doing everything right.

He’d read books. He’d watched porn. But he’d never had the real thing.

He started slow, circling your clit with his fingertip in gentle movements. It was enough to make several moans leave your parted lips and he took that as a good sign.

You pulled him down by his neck so you could kiss him again and his confidence built a little, moving his fingers faster between your legs.

“Oh god Spence,” you mumbled into his lips. “That feels so good baby.”

Spencer felt a swell of pride that he was able to make you feel good, but he wanted more, needed more.

“Y/N,” he panted. “C-can I...can we…”

“Yes Spence. God yes.” You kissed him again and he reluctantly removed his hand from between your legs.

You arched your back and unhooked your bra.

His mouth fell open at the sight of your breasts and he moaned viscerally.

You smiled, taking hold of both of his wrists now and placing his large hands on your breasts.

“F-fuck.” He moaned feeling you beneath his hands. “Jeez Y/N.”

You laughed, now working on sliding your panties down your legs.

Spencer gave your breasts a small squeeze, tweaking your nipples a little between his fingers.

You moved your hands to his hips and cautiously slid his boxers down his hips. You couldn’t stop the small moan that left your lips as you freed his erect member.

“Fuck Spence,” you groaned eyeing him up.

He removed his hands from your breasts so he could shimmy his boxers off.

He laid back down on top of you, his cock nestling between your legs. He kissed you softly, stroking back your hair.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something before w-we...you know…”

“You can tell me anything.” you encouraged him.

“Y/N, I have been in l-love with you for as long as I can remember. I need you t-to know that. I need you to know h-how inconceivably in love with you I am.”

You felt tears spring to your eyes at his words. You pulled him close for another kiss.

“Spencer, I love you too baby.” you whispered, making him sigh in relief.

“I have waited so long to hear you say that.”

“You should have asked.” You smirked, kissing him again. “Are you ready baby?”

He nodded with a deep breath. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he kept his eyes firmly on yours he slowly pushed his way inside of you.

His eyes widened and his jaw fell slack. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for the way you felt. Honestly, he almost came as soon as your tight heat was sheathed around him.

He pushed all the way inside you, filling you up beautifully. He paused to take a few steadying breaths.

“Are you ok?” You traced your finger along his bottom lip.

“Yeah,” he panted. “I just need a minute. I don’t want to uh…f-finish too soon.” He blushed.

“Take your time Spence.” You smiled lovingly at him.

He took a few more breaths and captured your lips in a kiss before he started moving slowly.

He was careful in his movements, slow and gentle as though you were made of glass.

He withdrew almost all the way, before slowly plunging back inside you.

His eyes rolled back in his head and the two of you moaned together under the starry sky.

“Jesus Y/N.” He gasped. “This f-feels so...so…”

“I know Spence,” you kissed him harder, messily exploring his mouth, your hands roaming his body and he moved in and out of you.

“I’m r-really not g-gonna…l-last long.” He spoke into your lips.

“Touch me again Spence. I want to come with you.”

He exhaled, moving his hand between your bodies and his fingers started circling your clit once more as he continued his slow thrusts.

The feeling of being inside you was otherworldly. Spencer had never dreamed in a million years it would feel this magical.

He wanted it to last forever. He never wanted this end. If he could feel one thing for the rest of his life he wanted it to be you wrapped around his dick.

He was getting closer and closer to the edge but now his fingers were working deftly on you, so you were you.

You found it hard to believe he’d never done this before because he was amazing at it. He seemed to know just what to do to bring you to your orgasm.

“I’m s-sorry Y/N…I can’t...I’m g-gonna…”

“Me too Spence.”

Hearing you moan his name was all he could take and with one last thrust, Spencer came, filling you with his load.

You came too, clenching around his spasming cock.

He fell on top of you, panting and moaning into your neck.

You wrapped him in your arms and kissed his messy hair.

“God damn Spencer,” you panted. “That was incredible.”

“R-really?” He lifted his head so he could look at you.

“Absolutely.” You held his face and kissed him gently. “I love you Spencer.”

“I love you too Y/N. So much.”

“Shall we go to bed?”

“Five more minutes under the stars?” He asked to which you nodded.

He gently pulled out of you and rolled onto his back on the blanket. You curled into him, resting your head on his chest.

He wrapped one arm around you and held your hand tightly.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” You sighed sleepily, looking up at the night sky.

“Not half as beautiful as you Y/N.”

***

It didn’t take long at all for you both to fall asleep like that. Thankfully you woke up before your parents and managed to sneak back into your tent before they found you.

Your dad would have a coronary if he found the two of you like that.

The drive back was long, it seemed longer than on the way. Maybe because you knew your time together was coming to an end.

Tomorrow Spencer would be leaving for DC and who knows when you would next see each other again.

At least you had your night together under the stars.

You were both exhausted when you arrived home so retired to your own homes to rest, Spencer promising to come and see you before he left the following morning.

Your night together had been magical, but the air between you was now stifled. It was what Spencer feared most. Giving into his urges had probably ruined your friendship.

And now he was leaving and didn’t have time to make it up to you.

As promised he showed up at your front door the following morning, his car already packed up.

You stepped out onto the porch and closed the front door behind you.

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving.” you wrapped your arms around your body as though shielding yourself from the pain that was going to be caused.

“I know, me either. I never imagined leaving Vegas, not permanently anyway.” he shrugged sadly.

“Don’t forget about me when you’re a hot shot in the FBI, Agent Reid.” you gave him a half smile.

“You and I both know it’s Doctor Reid.” he tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sigh. “Look Y/N, I need to know. After what happened the other night…”

“Spence-”

“Where do we stand Y/N?” he cut you off. “What...what are we?”

You sighed heavily and tried to smile even though your heart was breaking.

“We’re best friends, Spence.” you shrugged. “Always.”

“Best friends.” he muttered sadly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Spencer, we’re moving to different parts of the country, I’m not sure exactly what you thought that night was.”

No, neither am I.

“What was it to you?” he said instead.

“I guess...it was a perfect way to say goodbye.”

Spencer couldn’t keep his resolve any longer and his tears broke free, falling down his cheeks.

“Of course. Goodbye.” he whispered.

“Spence, please don’t cry.” you reached for him but he stepped out of your touch.

“I need to uh...g-get going. It’s a long drive to Quantico.” he rubbed the palms of his hands heavily over his eyes.

“Spence,”

“Really, I n-need to go.” he turned away from you and jogged down the front steps of your house and down the path.

“Spencer, please don’t leave like this.” you called after him, dangerously close to tears yourself.

“Goodbye Y/N.” he turned back to you when he reached the front gate. “I’ll always love you.” he sniffed but before you could say anything more, he was gone.

He ran to his car and seconds later he was inside and you were watching him pull away.

You fell to the ground on the porch and you sobbed. What else could you possibly do? You’d lost your best friend and the love of your life in one fell swoop.

All because of one stupid night under the stars.

Ask the stars up in the sky,

Ask the stars they’ll tell you why.

Stars know ev’ry little thing you do,

There’s a little star that’s watching you.

Ask the stars when you’re with me,

Ask the stars then watch and see.

***

Quantico, Virginia - 2020

Seventeen years seem to pass almost in the blink of an eye. One day Spencer was walking into the BAU for the first time and seemingly the next he was almost forty with a lifetime of trauma behind him.

He thought about you every single day for the longest time. He wondered what you were doing with your life. Were you happy? Had you met someone and got married? Had kids?

Honestly he probably still thought about you every day of his life until he met Maeve.

Maeve was a wonderful reprieve from thoughts of you, and for the first time in almost ten years you hadn’t been the first thought on his mind when he woke in the morning.

But he’d never loved her the way he loved you. It was probably for the best that he and Maeve never got to be together properly because it would have inevitably ended when he couldn’t give her his whole heart.

No, he’d left a piece of that in Vegas years ago.

After Maeve he thought about you from time to time but not everyday like he once had. When he was incarcerated he thought about you a lot. He wondered what you think of him if you could see him sitting in that cell, becoming a man he didn’t recognise. Surely you wouldn’t recognise him either.

Then he met Max and once again he thought maybe, just maybe he would finally be able to give his heart to someone else. But his hopes were dashed. They dated for a few months but she always knew there was someone else. Someone else occupied his mind and his heart and it wasn’t fair on Max to stay with her in the hopes that one day he might be able to love her like he loved you.

You hadn’t fared much better in the love department.

You met a man in college and the two of you married at the tender age of twenty one. You knew you were over compensating. You knew this wasn’t the man you were supposed to be with. But he helped take your mind off your lost love and you were sure in time you would stop thinking about Spencer all together.

But of course you didn’t.

The marriage lasted three years and you were divorced soon after your twenty fourth birthday. There had been other men over the years, but none lasted very long.

They scratched an itch. They filled a void in your life that had existed since Spencer walked out. But inevitably you couldn’t commit so each one ended quicker than the last.

You stayed in Vegas all those years, maybe hoping one day Spencer would come back to you, but of course that had been foolish. Spencer was off living his own life, he probably hadn’t given you a second thought in years.

And then, at the age of thirty five, the job offer came that changed everything.

***

“It’s so quiet around here.” Luke mused as he and Spencer walked through the bullpen.

“Yeah I know what you mean. How is Garcia getting on at her new job?”

“She’s enjoying it but she misses the BAU.”

“Tell her we miss her too. Isn’t her replacement meant to be starting today?”

“She is and she’s settling into her new office.” Emily’s voice caught Spencer and Luke’s attention.

“I guess we should go and introduce ourselves.” Luke shrugged.

“Sure,” Spencer shrugged too and the two of them made their way out of the bullpen towards Garcia’s old office.

“I bet it’s going to be so drab.” Luke laughed.

“No more unicorn mugs or fluffy pens.” Spencer agreed.

“Penelope is one of a kind.”

“Undoubtedly.” Spencer swiped his card on the door and pushed the door handle before stepping into the office, Luke just behind him.

“You must be our new technical analyst.” Luke spoke as the door closed behind the two agents.

The woman sat in Garcia’s old chair tapping on the keys turned in the chair to face them.

She seemed to move in slow motion.

“I’m SSA Luke Alvez and this is Doctor-”

“Spencer Reid.” she cut him off, the words falling from her lips.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Spencer croaked, glaring at the woman in front of him as if he’d seen a ghost.

Luke frowned looking between the two of them who seemed to have forgotten his presence.

Spencer and Y/N stared at each other without saying a word. Spencer’s chest tightened, constricting his breathing. Was he having a heart attack? Was this how he was going to die?

“You uh, know each other?” Luke spoke up.

“Uh...did know each other.” you croaked not tearing your eyes away from Spencer.

“A long time ago.” Spencer added, not looking away from you either.

Sensing the tension in the room, Luke backed up towards the door.

“Maybe I should let the two of you get reacquainted.” he said but neither of you acknowledged him.

He pushed his way back into the hall just as JJ was heading his way.

“Hey, I was just coming to meet the new tech analyst.” she smiled at him.

“I would give it a minute.” Luke told her, making her frown.

“Why?”

“There’s a lot of unfinished business in that room, trust me.” he put his arm around her shoulders to lead her away from the door.

“Spencer and the new Garcia?”

“Yeah.” Luke sighed. “If my profiling skills are accurate, I would say they were in love once. Probably still are.”

Back inside Garcia’s old office, you and Spencer were still staring at each other.

“I had no idea you still worked here, I swear. I wouldn’t have taken the job if I’d known.” you chewed your lip awkwardly.

“You look different.” he spoke as though ignoring what you’d said.

“Well yes, it has been a long time Spencer.”

“Seventeen years, three months and fifteen days.”

“Precisely.” you frowned at his recall. “I’m not eighteen anymore.”

“No and I’m not twenty two.” he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

It was longer now, curlier and messier. He sported stubble on his cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He’d gained weight, somehow gotten even taller you were sure.

He was most certainly not the twenty two year old Spencer Reid you had spent a night with under the stars.

“You look different too. Good different.” you told him.

“A lifetime of trauma will probably do that.” he nodded stiffly.

“Spencer? Strange question for you…”

“Yeah?”

“Did you uhm...did you ever tell Penelope about...that night.” you felt yourself blushing.

Spencer closed his eyes for a moment with a sigh.

He hadn’t been this drunk in a really long time. Maybe ever. Spencer never had been a big drinker. But they’d had a tough case and Garcia had suggested they all spend the evening at her apartment drinking.

Spencer couldn’t recall who exactly had suggested the drinking games, possibly Kate, but they had been Spencer’s downfall.

“You never did answer the question,” Garica helped Spencer into his jacket after everyone else had left.

“What question?” he slurred, narrowing his eyes on her.

“During truth or dare Morgan asked you how you lost your virginity. You didn’t answer.”

He swallowed, stumbling over his feet a little.

“I uh…” he sighed. “It was with my best friend. On a camping trip under the stars.”

“How romantic!” Garcia swooned.

“Hmm not really. It doesn’t have a happy ending.”

“I don’t remember,” he opened his eyes. “Why?”

“I met her a few times before she left, she was training me up while you guys were away on cases. She told me about the team and that’s when I figured out you still worked here, but I’d already accepted the job by then. Anyway I told her I used to know you, that we were best friends. I didn’t really think much of it until I found this today.” you fished in your pocket and pulled out a brightly coloured post it note. “It was slotted between the desks. I recognise her handwriting.”

You handed the small folded up note to Spencer who took it and unfolded it. In Garcia’s signature handwriting, it read, “You’re in love, just ask the stars.”

“Ok so maybe I did tell her about my best friend who I lost my virginity to under the stars.” he confessed.

“Ah then the note makes sense.” you took it back from him and slid it back into your pocket.

“Yeah.”

Silence followed, heavy, palpable silence.

He thought maybe after all this time he didn’t feel as strongly about you as he used to. But looking into your beautiful eyes, all those feelings came flooding back to him. He didn’t have a shadow of a doubt that he was still in love with you.

The question was, did you still feel the same?

As if reading his mind you stepped a little closer to Spencer, cautiously at first but when he didn’t shy away you came even closer.

You took hold of his tie and played with it between your fingers.

“I know what you’re thinking Spence,” you smiled coyly. “I always know what you’re thinking.”

“You should have been a profiler.” He smiled softly, making you laugh.

“I’ve said it once, Spence and I’ll say it again. If you want to know if I’m still in love with you...all you have to do, is ask.”

When they twinkle, twinkle,

Wedding bells will tinkle, tinkle.

You’re in love, just ask the stars.

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