in the refrigerator light
summary: you are somehow unprepared to run into Logan while on the quest for a midnight snack... in the house you both live in.
wc: 1.9 k
a/n: to be fair I did warn you that this would happen. I have a few more ideas kicking around in my head, but feel free to send requests if you have any! this doesn't take place during any particular movie, fyi, but you and Logan are both teaching at the school
warnings: fluffy fluff, mutant!reader, empathic powers!reader, soft!Logan
You should have been asleep. Even after choosing to stay on at the school past your education, you’d had a hard time shaking habits of the past. It still felt strange to walk freely into professor only areas, and you were always in bed by 11:00 pm every night. Sneaking down to the kitchen to steal one of the chocolate bars you knew Scott had stashed deep in the back of a cabinet felt wrong, but the siren song was too strong to resist.
You’d been quiet, making sure to avoid the creaky stair (third from the bottom on the right) before shuffling into the kitchen. You rubbed at your eyes as you made your way to the proper cabinet. The only problem being that it was much higher up than you remember. It was times like these that made you wish for a more helpful mutation, like telekinesis or at least a few extra inches of height. You struggled for a few moments, on your tippy toes, stretching your arm as far as you could reach before you gave up. You sighed, raking your hands through your hair and making your peace with the fact that chocolate was not in your future tonight.
“Scoot over, bub.” You jumped and let out a small shriek, before clasping a hand over your mouth. It was rare that anyone got the drop on you these days, your power more finely tuned and emotions tending to be strong around the manor, but your guard was decidedly down in the place you’d called home for so many years. But Logan was an exception to many rules. HIs hand gently gripped your wrist, pulling you against his chest for a brief moment before moving to stand in front of the cabinet. He reached up into the cabinet, the zip up hoodie he wore pulling up to expose a few inches of his stomach before pulling down a few bars of chocolate with ease. He smiled, the crinkles by his eyes more prominent in the low light of the kitchen. You did your best to appear like you hadn’t just been ogling him.
“How did you know-”
“Scott’s shit at secrets.” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “You think he’d learn by now to not be such a loud mouth in a house full of people with enhanced hearing”.
Your laugh was quiet, muffled by your hand in the interest of not waking the others. “Well, in that case, I hope one of those is for me.”
Logan shrugged, eyes full of mirth. “What’ll you give me for it?”
You blinked, unsure of yourself. You weren’t used to this Logan, yet. He was usually gruff and reserved, always reluctant to give into the kids in his history class that were trying to derail the lesson with a joke or two. He’d been playful a few times in your presence, and it almost always made you worried that the other shoe was about to drop. Seeing him in pajama pants and a soft grey sweatshirt only added to the strangeness situation.
For the briefest moment, you considered using your powers. A single touch and you would know exactly how he was feeling. It was a blessing and a curse, to be able to be sure of how others were feeling with a single touch. A god-send on intel gathering or stealthy missions, a terrible temptation at midnight alone in the kitchen of the manor with the man you had harbored a crush on for as long as you’d known him. You make to grab one of the bars out of his hand, but he is too fast for you, quickly lifting them over his head. Your eyes narrowed.
Fine, two can play at this game. You roll your shoulders back, drawing up your courage. “Depends what you want for it.”
Logan grinned, dropping his arms and holding the bars behind his back. “Well, what I don’t want is to be an accomplice in your quest for cavities. Chuck’d have my head if he found out I had a part to play.”
“I’m a big girl, Logan. I can take care of myself” You grab for the chocolate, but he’s too quick for you. For a brief moment, the two of you stare at each other, the moment charged. You lunged for the chocolate again, but Logan is already halfway across the kitchen, waving the chocolate around teasingly.
“Logan, please” you laugh, following around the island. He cocked his head to the side, smirk playing at the corner of his lips. You were seconds away from stomping your foot and demanding he hand the chocolate over, when his smirk grew into a grin.
“Alright bub,” he made his way around the island, depositing one of the chocolate bars in your hand. “You know I can’t say no to you.”
You did your best to tamp down the butterflies that suddenly made a home in your stomach, but his smile was so gentle and he looked so soft, it was hard not to feel a little lovestruck. You snapped a piece of the bar off, and held it out to him. You dutifully busied yourself with breaking off a piece for yourself, ignoring the way that his affectionate gaze seemed to never leave you.
“You’re not usually up this late,” he says, holding his hand out for another piece. You shrug, dropping another section into his hand.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Welcome to the club.” You knew that Logan had trouble sleeping, he was usually the first one hunched over a cup of coffee in the mornings, steadfastly ignoring inquiries into how he slept.
“I, um” You hesitated. Usually offers of using your powers didn’t go well. You took a breath, steadying yourself. The worst he could say was no, right? “I could help with that, if you want.”
Logan reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You could tell your eyes were the size of saucers, but you couldn’t find words. After a few moments, Logan took a step back, shaking his head slightly. You blinked owlishly, taking a breath to steady yourself.
“That’s sweet of you, bub. But I wouldn’t want to tucker you out.” It was no secret around the house that although you had a less physical mutation, it still took some of your energy. Sensing emotions was as natural as breathing, but influencing them was newer, and took much more focus.
You pointedly glanced at the clock over the stove, noting that it was well past any reasonable bedtime, before facing Logan once more. “That actually sounds really nice.” He mumbled something about not wanting to take advantage of you, but the words died in his throat when your hand found his own. You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping that he would be able to see how earnest you were being. “I don’t want to force you, but I want to be asleep more than anything, and I can tell that you are too wound up about something to even begin to fall asleep.”
His thumb stroked over the back of your hand a few times, before he stepped around you and led you out of the kitchen. You expected him to turn towards the living room, where you’d caught him ‘resting his eyes’ a few times in the middle of the day. Instead, he turned right making sure to skip the creaky stair (third from the bottom on the right) and right up to the door of your room.
“A bit presumptuous, no?” You asked, before opening the door and walking through.
Logan rolled his eyes, leaning against your doorframe. “I was there the first time you tried this. Figured it was best that no one has to pick you up off the floor.”
You felt your face grow hot, remembering the unmitigated disaster that had occurred the first time Charles suggested that this application of your powers was a possibility. Your chin tilted up, doing your best to project confidence. “Well, it’s been a while since then, I’ve gotten better.”
If the lighting had been better, you would have seen the faintest pink blush coloring his cheeks. “Rogue’s in my room.” You couldn’t help it, your eyebrows shot up near your hairline. “She and Bobby got into a fight, she wanted somewhere she would be left alone.” His hands were twisting in the pockets of his sweatshirt as he ducked his head down low.
“Is that why you were prowling around the kitchen?” He rolled his eyes, but nodded all the same. “Well, do you wanna stay here tonight?” He looked like he was about to object, but you held your hand up, effectively silencing him. “You’re doing a favor for Rogue, let me do one for you.”
“Thought you were already doin’ me a favor, sweetheart.” He protested, all while moving towards your bed.
You perched on the edge of your bed, consciously doing your best to keep your heart rate in check. The students always joked that between Charles and Jean’s mind reading and Logan being able to hear cheaters hearts speeding up, it wasn’t even worth it to try and cheat in class. It hadn’t occurred to you that if he could hear your heart fluttering, he could definitely hear the measured deep breaths you were taking to mitigate the issue.
You reached for his hand, and he accepted it readily. His palm was shockingly smooth under yours, it must be from his regenerative powers. Your thumb gently ran across his knuckles, still slightly red from the training session he’d had with some of the students earlier in the day. You tugged on his arm slightly, and he lowered himself down onto the bed beside you. “I thought that it’s important to work as a team, sometimes.”
“You spyin’ on me, bub?” You sheepishly meet his eyes, but find nothing but tenderness waiting for you. “I’ll try to forgive you.” He drops a kiss on your knuckles, before motioning for you to lay down. “I’ll take the floor.”
You tightened your grip on his hand. If he really wanted to, he could have broken away easily. Instead, he paused, eyebrows raised and waiting for an explanation. “Not much of a favor if your back hurts in the morning from sleeping on the floor” you shrugged.
“Only if you’re sure-”
“Just get in the damn bed Logan.” He grinned, pulling back the covers and slipping into the bed. You followed shortly after, and slipped your hand back into his. The both of you laid in silence for a few moments, adjusting to your new arrangement. You were nice and toasty warm, able to feel the heat radiating off him under the covers. You were in the middle of working up the courage to actually use your powers, when soft snores began to emanate from the other side of the bed. You chanced a glance towards him only to find his lashes gently fanned out over his cheeks, and his chest rising and falling with his steady breathing.
After a few moments, you followed him into dreamland. In the morning, you woke up with his arm firmly around your waist, feeling fully rested for one of the first times in your life. Again, you waited for the awkwardness to come, for your face to flush and your stammer to pick back up, but you were left waiting.
feedback is very much appreciated, as I’ve never written for Logan before! let me know what you think <3
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Sexual Healing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Reader faking an orgasm with Eddie because she’s too in her head and her anxiety is through the roof. Eddie notices and helps ground her in a very unique way.
18+ minors dni, explicit sexual content, mentions of anxiety and using the five senses to ground yourself
****
“Did you just... did you just fake it?” Eddie’s eyes go wide as you toss your head back into the pillow with a groan.
“Did it not feel good? Was I doing something wrong?” Eddie asks, his fingers trailing up and down your arm lightly.
“It’s not you, baby.” you sigh, peeking at him through your lashes. “I’m just in my head. Too many thoughts.. I don’t know. I’m sorry baby.” you whisper, embarrassment creeping up quickly.
“You don’t need to be sorry, sweetheart. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” he presses gently.
“Just too much.” you reply, shutting your eyes once again. You hated when your brain got like this. So many thoughts. So many emotions. Just so fucking much. You just wanted to turn them all off.
You suddenly feel Eddie’s body weight on top of you. An instant calm rushing over you. Not fully quieting the thoughts, but pushing them further away. You open your eyes to see his deep brown ones looking at you carefully.
“Stay right here. Don’t move!” he grins before jumping off of you. Your body feels empty again, the bad thoughts clawing their way back in immediately. You just want to scream at them to shut up. You can feel the bubbles in your chest building and building like a soda bottle that’s been shaken up, just waiting to explode.
You hear something in the distance. You know it’s Eddie’s record player but it sounds so far away, your thoughts louder than anything else in this moment.
The lights shut off, only the flicker of a candle illuminating the room. And then you feel him again. His soft skin on yours. The beautiful feeling of his body pressing you into the mattress.
He leans down, his soft lips barely brushing yours before moving to your cheek. Soft kisses until his lips meet your ear. “Close your eyes, sweet girl.” he breathes, his voice soothing and warm.
You allow your eyes to fall shut once again, listening to Eddie’s instructions. “What do you feel baby?” he mumbles into your neck as he continues planting wet kisses up and down.
“Y-your lips.”
“And how does it feel?”
“Feels so good, Eddie.” you breathe, doing your best to focus on the feeling of his lips sucking your soft skin.
“Mmm, and what do you hear?”
“Music… Marvin Gaye. You hate Marvin Gaye, baby.”
“Mhmm, but you don’t.” he chuckles against your lips before kissing you once again.
His kiss is harder this time, his tongue slipping into your mouth, urgent but also very delicate. You focus on his kiss. Feeling his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth, whimpering as he pulls away.
“What do you taste?”
“Weed. Camel blues and… jolly ranchers?” you giggle as he sticks his tongue out, a light blue from the candy coating the entire thing.
“Blue raspberry.” he smiles before he starts to move lower. His lips travel across your breasts, small kisses before his lips wrap around your nipple, gently sucking. You let out a soft moan as you reach out, running your fingers through his curls.
“What do you smell, baby?” he continues his efforts to bring you back to the present moment.
“Pine trees. The candle I bought you for your birthday.” you answer as his lips work even lower.
“Good girl.” Eddie winks up at you, making your stomach flip.
You feel his large hands on the inside of your thighs, pushing your legs apart, pressing a kiss to the top of your pussy. You let out a soft moan in response. You realize you can hear the music now, louder than before. Actually hearing the words.
Oh I can tell you, darling, that it's sexual healing.
“And what do you see, sweetheart?” Eddie soothes, dipping his tongue inside, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit and back again.
“You baby, only you.” you whimper. Eddie’s plan to ground you had worked perfectly. The only thing on your mind was him. The pleasure you were receiving below.
His lips wrap around your clit, tugging the sensitive bud into his mouth over and over making your moans grow louder.
You grip his curls, shoving his face deeper into your cunt making him moan into you. You can feel how wet you are, all of your worries floating away with every flick of his tongue.
He switches his tempo, taking his time, his tongue seeming to reach every part of you as he laps at your soaked pussy. Long strokes up and down before he’s shoving it as deep as possible making your back arch.
“Yes, baby. Fuck yes.” you encourage him to fuck you with his tongue. His nose brushes against your clit perfectly as he darts his tongue in and out of you. You can feel it twisting and swirling around, being coated with your slick as he watches your pretty face.
You begin bucking your hips, grinding your pussy on his face. His thick fingers dig into your skin as he allows you to use him for your pleasure. “Don’t stop until you cum, baby. Ride my fucking face.” he groans before he’s back between your thighs.
You don’t even know what part of him is inside you at this point, what’s rubbing against your clit so deliciously. His nose, his chin, his tongue. It didn’t matter, it all felt so good.
Your eyes are shut tight as both hands cling to his hair, your hips rutting up against him desperately. Filthy moans and cries pour from your lips as you cover Eddie with your wet pussy.
“Gonna cum.. Eddie I’m gonna cum.” you cry out, feeling his hands on your ass, helping you as you practically hump is face. Eddie’s moans are audible even with his mouth working hard to bring you to your peak.
Your voice cracks, a strangled moan forcing its way from your throat as you feel your body let go. All the built up tension breaking free, leaving your body in a way you didn’t expect.
You hips jolt against Eddie’s face a few more times as he does his best to lap up your cum. You can feel it running down your ass, a sticky sweet mess.
Your back falls back to the bed, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you struggle to catch your breath. You feel Eddie’s tongue cleaning up your mess, his lips kissing the insides of your thighs before pressing one last kiss to your swollen clit.
“Holy shit.” you giggle as he comes back up to meet your eyes.
“Feel better?” he grins, his face glistening from his job well done.
“So much better.” you breathe, pulling him in for a kiss, tasting yourself all over his tongue. “And thank you, baby.”
“For what?” Eddie murmurs as he buries his face in your neck.
“For always grounding me.”
“I love you, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I love you so much, Eds.” you smile up at him. “By the way, I’m telling all your friends you fucked me to Marvin Gaye.”
“You wouldn’t.” Eddie gasps dramatically, narrowing his eyes at you.
“Oh but I would.”
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heat lightning
pt 1
pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader
summary: you end up at the heart of the bau's latest case.
a/n: took way too long but here's more gideon reader! just as irritable as ever with some actual human emotions this time around. send help and prayers bc she's gonna need it. and before you ask there will in fact be some more parts to close up this case, i just have to write them first and it may take approximately 10 years. thank you for your consideration
wc: 4.1k
warning(s): reader still has daddy issues, still hates spence, and still argues w gideon the whole time. more angst! typical cm case stuff (a stalker that has taken vulnerable pics of reader) read w/ discretion if you are sensitive to those things. more drama and more tension and more not being a good time for anyone but me
“On your right, pretty boy.”
Spencer stops as Morgan rushes past him back to his desk, eyes trained on the hallway.
“Why are you in such a hurry?” he complains. “I nearly spilled my coffee.”
“Gideon’s daughter is here again,” he says. “Did you not feel the temperature drop five degrees?”
Spencer frowns. He opens his mouth to say something when he hears the telltale signs of your arrival: arguing.
“—so typical of you! I have to drop everything the moment you need me, but it’s like pulling teeth to get you to listen to me.”
Gideon turns the corner with you in tow. He has a duffle bag in one hand and a file in his other, his brow furrowed in frustration.
“That’s because this is important,” he says.
“Oh, and everything else I try to get you to be around for isn’t?”
“You know that isn’t what I meant,” Gideon says, keeping his voice level.
“This is ridiculous,” you spit.
“It’s necessary,” he corrects. “I’m not going to play games with your safety.”
“Oh, yeah,” you mock. “Because you’ve always cared about that.”
He just shakes his head. “I’m not debating this with you.”
“Why? Because you’ll realize that it’s ridiculous?”
You follow Gideon into his office and Spencer watches him close the blinds. The door slams shut, and though he can still hear the muffled argument he can’t make anything out.
“Oh, great,” Morgan says. “Now we can’t even get Reid to read their lips.”
“I don’t think we need it to know what they’re talking about,” Elle says. “They’ve been arguing since she was brought in.”
“Of course they have,” JJ says. “Gideon sent Hotch to pick her up instead of doing it himself. She sees it as another slight.”
“She sees everything as a slight,” Spencer says. “She hates him.”
“I don’t blame her,” Morgan mutters. “Not when we only found out about her last month.”
“Surely this isn’t helping with anything,” JJ says wryly.
Elle shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. Sometimes pointless arguing makes you feel better, even when you’re in the wrong.”
“That’s enough, agents.” Spencer’s attention—along with everyone else’s—snaps to the top of the bullpen to see Hotch holding a file with the same expression as always. “I need you all in the conference room.”
“Does it have anything to do with that?” Morgan asks, tilting his head towards Gideon’s office.
“You’ll find out,” he says. Hotch starts walking to the conference room, the conversation clearly over.
JJ sighs as she stands up and grabs the files on her desk. “I’ll get Penelope. The rest of you try not to gossip too much.”
She goes off, and the others disperse back to their desk to finish up some last-minute things before the case takes them away. Spencer can’t tear his eyes away from Gideon’s office, even though he’s not getting anything.
All he can think about is the last time you were here, when he got caught in the middle of your argument with Gideon—your dad, which was still a little weird—and he can’t help but feel guilty.
Gideon is a father figure to him, sure, but it isn’t that difficult to end up with that dynamic when Spencer’s the youngest on the team. And he can go into everything about his father leaving and the psychology of that, but it doesn’t matter. Gideon treated him like a son when he had a daughter all along that he’d been neglecting.
For all Spencer knows, it is his fault.
“Reid,” Elle says, snapping him out of his thoughts, “you coming?”
“Yeah,” he says, nodding far too many times as he catches up to her in a few quick strides. “Sorry.”
“No need,” she remarks. “Gideon’s kid was all anyone could talk about when she first showed up here. This is only gonna make things worse.”
“He can’t really be that bad of a dad,” Spencer says, “right?”
“All I know is that having a parent in the force rarely ends well,” Elle murmurs. She opens the door to the conference room and looks at him. “We can’t be too hard on her when we probably see Gideon more than she does.”
Spencer recalls his meeting with you, how he barely got a word in edgewise while you spent the whole time arguing with someone half the office viewed as immovable.
“Yeah,” he says distantly. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
-
“Why? Because you’ll realize that it’s ridiculous?”
Your dad shuts the blinds on all the windows in his office, then closes the door behind you. He sets your duffle down on the floor then looks at you, that infuriatingly even expression still unchanged.
“It’s not ridiculous,” he says. “Sit down and lower your voice, please. We have some things to talk about.”
“I gathered that when you sent your guy to pick me up,” you say, crossing your arms as he walks over to his desk. “Couldn’t even do it yourself?”
“Aaron Hotchner is the chief of this unit and one of the most accomplished agents here,” he says. “He lives closer to you than I do, and I asked him to pick you up on his way in because I knew you would be safe with him. Sit down, please.”
“There it is again. My safety.” You remain standing. “Tell me what this is about. I’m missing work right now— I know you can understand that, at least.”
He lets out a sigh as he says your name and looks at you. “Can we get through this without any arguments for once?”
“That depends. Are you going to treat me like your daughter or an inconvenience?”
“You’re my daughter, I love you, and your life is in danger,” he says evenly.
You open your mouth to retort, but your dad opens the file in his hands and sets it down on the other side of the desk. You can see from your position that they’re photos, but your curiosity ultimately wins out. You walk over to get a closer look, and any words die in your throat as you pick up the first photo.
A photo of you.
You pick up the next one, only to see it’s another picture of you. At least ten photos are tucked away in the file, and they’re all of you. Taken outside your work, at your apartment, on your morning run— god, there’s even one taken through the window of your bedroom, half-naked in a towel after a shower.
You fall silently into the chair, your heart hammering inside your chest as your eyes dart between all of the photos. You want to crawl out of your skin.
“What the fuck is this?” you breathe.
“The heart of our newest case,” your dad says. “It appears that you have a stalker.”
“Yeah,” you whisper, eyes still glued to your oblivious self, “I would fucking think so.”
“These photos were dropped off at my door this morning,” he says, and he flips to the next section of the file, “with that note.”
The erratic handwriting instantly stands out to you as you pick the photocopy up, the lump in your throat growing with every word you read.
such a pretty little thing. I wonder if she knows it.
you don’t care about her, but I do. she’s just like all the rest of us, everyone that you’ve ruined.
think about your priorities, agent gideon. I’ll be watching.
“What the fuck is this?” you repeat. Blood pounds in your skull as a distant chill creeps down your spine. “I— I’m one of your cases now?”
“We’re not sure yet,” he admits. “These only appeared yesterday, but from the looks of it, the unsub has been watching you for a while. Can you pinpoint when any of these photos were taken?
You stare at him. “Some psycho has been stalking me for a while?”
Your dad says your name again, slightly strained. “Please. I know this is difficult to think about, but figuring out a time frame would help us.”
“Difficult,” you scoff. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”
But it doesn’t have the bite your words usually hold. For once, you don’t think you’re mad at your dad. You think you’re terrified.
“...Yeah,” you finally murmur, and you pick up one of the photos. “I thrifted a mirror a month ago, and this one doesn’t have it.”
Your dad nods, and he picks up two others. “Neither do these.”
“So this has been going on for at least a month,” you say bitterly. “Great.”
Your dad says your name, quieter this time, and when you finally look at him his eyes have softened.
“We’re going to figure this out,” he says. “This is a threat against an FBI agent’s family, and it will be treated accordingly. Forensics is doing tests on all the original copies to try and find a lead. The whole BAU will be on your case—I will be on it, and we won’t rest until we find whoever’s doing this.”
“Yeah,” you say numbly. “You sure that’ll help? Because it looks like all this is happening because I’m your daughter.”
“I know this is scary,” he says. “This… this is nothing like you’ve ever dealt with before. You shouldn’t have to deal with it. But you have to trust my team. We know what we’re doing.”
“Of course you know what you’re doing,” you say. “You’re always here.”
Your words have no bite behind them, more of an instinct as you grab your purse from the ground. You can feel the pinpricks of incoming tears, and you refuse to cry in front of your dad.
“I— I need a minute,” you say. “This is all just—”
“I understand,” he says. “Just don’t go far. Stay on this floor.”
You nod and start towards the door, but you pause right before you reach it. Your mouth opens as you try to think of something to say, but it falls shut just as quickly. You shake your head as you reach for the door handle, but before you get the chance, it swings open and you’re met with a familiar face.
Spencer Reid, the kid your dad likes more than you. He’s nothing less than surprised to see you, from his stumbled step back, the slightly wide eyes, his hand poised to knock on the door.
A mumbled apology falls from your lips as you move around him, and you can still feel his eyes on you as you speed off. You wonder what ideas he and the rest of the BAU have drawn up about you since your last visit to the office.
You don’t really care.
True to your word, you don’t go far—just to the bathroom. Thankfully it’s close, because the moment you make it to one of the stalls, knees stinging as you fall to the tiled floor, you vomit.
By the time you’ve expelled the contents of your stomach, it feels just as empty as the rest of you. You stare at the wall, breathing slightly harried and skin warm to the touch, and you resist the urge to punch it.
You have a stalker. Someone has been watching you for a month—at least a month, maybe longer—and you had no fucking clue, and now your only decent hope lies with your dad and his team.
Normally, you wrote off anything depending on your dad as fruitless, but this involved the thing he loved more than anything in the world: his job.
You huff a wry laugh at the thought. This wouldn’t get solved because it concerned you, it would get solved because it concerned his job.
You stand up and walk over to the sink. You rinse your mouth, then just stare at yourself in the mirror.
It— it feels strange. Looking at yourself like this, knowing someone has been—still is—watching you.
You recall their words.
Pretty little thing.
You don’t care about her, but I do.
A chill crawls up your spine. You can’t shake the dread settling all over you.
What the fuck are you going to do?
You have to trust your dad, but you’ve never trusted your dad. God, he’s not even really your dad. He’s Senior Supervisory Special Agent Jason Gideon, nothing more—the estranged kid is an unfortunate side effect of the estranged wife.
You let out another breathy laugh. Would he even care if this psycho actually ends up killing you?
You stand there for another couple minutes, time idling in the background as you continue to stare at the mirror.
You haven’t cried, at least. That’s certainly something.
The door opens ever so slightly and someone says your name. Your eyes flick to the mirror almost immediately as your body tenses, and you recognize her as one of the BAU’s agents. She’s pretty and blonde with sympathetic eyes, and you know they’ve been briefed on your situation.
If you have to deal with an office of pitying looks, you think you might lose your mind.
“Are you alright?” she asks softly.
“Just peachy,” you mumble. “My dad ask you to check up on me?”
She nods. “You can imagine why Gideon is a bit high strung at the moment.”
“I’m fine,” you repeat. “I just… needed a second.”
“I understand,” she murmurs. “Do you still need some time?”
“What do you need?”
“Gideon wants to talk to you. It’s best if he explains it.”
You huff a laugh and shake your head. “Fine. Lead the way, Agent…”
“Jareau,” she supplies. “But call me JJ, please.”
In lieu of a response, you walk over to her. She offers a thin smile and holds the door for you, then falls into step with you. A moment of silence passes before she speaks up.
“We’re going to figure this out,” JJ says. “Your dad is one of the best to walk through these doors. If anyone can solve this, he can.”
“So I keep hearing,” you murmur.
-
Spencer watches you hurry off with wide eyes, and it takes a few seconds for him to snap out of it. He’s less surprised by your pace, and more surprised that you actually apologized for bumping into him.
“Reid,” Gideon speaks up, and his attention snaps back over to his superior. “What do you need?”
“Is she okay?” he asks instead. He can’t help it—after what Hotch just told all of them, he’s worried about you.
Gideon gathers the photos back into the file then stands up. “Our job is to make sure she will be.”
“Hotch briefed us,” he says, and his eyes darted back to the doorway almost on instinct. “This— this is crazy. We just found out about her last month, and some guy’s been after her for longer?”
“What this is is one of my enemies targeting my daughter because they’re too much of a coward to go after me,” Gideon says evenly. “We just have to figure out which one before they escalate.”
“How do you know?” he asks.
“What you said is true,” he admits. “Hardly anyone knows I have a daughter. Even fewer would know where she lives. Someone who wants to hurt me would have incentive to discover both.”
“So we look into unsubs you’ve put away that have been released,” Spencer says. “Or ones that are still in, but have family that might be bitter.”
“Exactly,” Gideon nods. “But I have to ask something of you, Reid.”
He frowns. “Anything.”
“We’re working on getting a safe house for my daughter,” Gideon says. “I need you to stay there with her.”
Somehow, his frown deepens. “What?”
“I need to know she’s with someone I can trust,” he says. “There’s someone after her, and we don’t know who—that means we need to keep this circle tight.”
“So you want me to be her bodyguard?” Spencer marvels. “Do you remember that you had to waive all my physical tests?”
“Less of a bodyguard,” he says. “More just… keeping her company. Making sure she’s alright—mentally as much as physically.”
“Why am I the one that has to keep an eye on her?” Spencer asks. “She hates me!”
“Don’t take it personally,” Gideon says. “She hates a lot of things.”
“But it is personal,” Spencer insists. “She hates me because she thinks you like me more than her.”
Gideon doesn’t seem phased at the comment. “She’s opinionated, but she’s harmless. And right now, I need to know that she’s with someone I can trust.”
“I— I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Please, Reid.” Gideon leans forward, and there’s an uncharacteristic vulnerability in his eyes. "If I'm going to be on this case, I need to know that she's safe. I won't be able to focus otherwise."
Spencer wasn’t going to lie—he genuinely thought it was a bad idea. But… Gideon said he trusted him. And this was his daughter—they might’ve argued, but they still cared about each other. if he could keep Lila Archer safe, he could keep you safe.
“…Okay,” he finally concedes. “Okay.”
Gideon nods, and he watches the change in his eyes, the slightest bit of tension leaving his shoulders. “Thank you.”
“Just… make sure there are two bedrooms,” Spencer says. “I don’t need her to kill me one day in.”
At that, he cracks a rare smile. Spencer is thankful for it, that he can bring even the smallest amount of levity to Gideon’s life right now.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
-
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Your dad says your name, but you hardly let him finish.
“No! First I find out I have a stalker, then my whole life’s going to be uprooted until you find them, and now I have to be stuck with boy genius?”
“You know, we’re about the same age—”
“Do you ever stop talking?” you cry, whirling on Spencer.
“I actually don’t talk that much when I’m around you,” Spencer says, his brows creasing. “This is the third time I’ve met you, and I’ve only said nine sentences across those meetings. Thirteen, if you count all of these too.”
You let out a strained laugh as you shake your head, trying to blink back tears. “This is fucking unbelievable. I know he’s practically your son, but this is just—”
“A safety precaution,” your dad interrupts. “Doctor Spencer Reid is another one of the BAU’s finest agents, and he is fully qualified to keep you safe.”
“He looks like a strong breeze could snap him in half.”
“This is not a joke,” your dad says sternly. “None of this is a joke. Your life is in danger—you have a stalker that has been watching your every move for at least a month, and we have no idea what their next move will be. Doctor Reid is more experienced than you in every facet of this, and I am entrusting him to your care. I respect him immensely, and you will do so as well.”
You don’t even look at Spencer, quiet rage simmering beneath the surface as you stare at your father.
“You really don’t get it,” you murmur. “Do you?”
“The only thing to get is that your life is in increasing danger with every moment you spend pushing against me,” your dad says, and he stands up. “Get your purse. Reid, get her duffle. We’re leaving.”
He leaves before you get the chance to do anything—you assume he’s finally tired of you.
You just shake your head and pick up your purse, and Spencer clears his throat as he reaches for your duffle bag. You wonder if it even has anything useful—Aaron Hotchner was the one who packed it.
“…So,” Spencer says. “I guess we’re gonna be roommates for a while.”
You huff in fully unveiled annoyance, and you push past him on your way out.
“Great,” he mutters to himself as he follows you. “So this is what Gideon’s trust earns me.”
It doesn’t take him too long to catch up to you, despite the unnecessary quick pace you’re taking. You bypass the elevator and head towards the stairwell, and Spencer catches the door before it’s able to slam on him.
He says your name, but you just shake your head.
“If we’re gonna be stuck together until this is over, I’d prefer silence.”
“I don’t really do silence,” Spencer says.
“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of books for you to read in whatever jail cell they throw me in.”
“It’s actually going to be a pretty nice safe house,” he starts, throwing his hand up against the wall to catch himself from running into it as he turns, because god you are moving fast, “Gideon picked it out himself.”
“Oh, then it’ll definitely be a jail cell,” you mock. “It’s not like he knows anything about me, so he’ll probably think that it’s perfect.”
Spencer frowns. “Cut him some slack. This is all just as hard on him as it is on you.”
You come to a sudden stop, whirling around to face him, and Spencer has to reel to the side to prevent himself from running into you. Had he not already been pressed up against the wall, he would have moved back further, what with the fire blazing in your eyes.
“I’m not going to cut him any slack,” you spit. “This is the most time I’ve gotten to spend with my dad in months, and it’s only because some creep is stalking me to get back at him. The only reason I’m in this at all is because of his job that he cares about more than me, and now he’s sticking me with the guy that he wishes was his kid. So no, Doctor Reid—I’m not going to cut him any slack.”
You’re already off on your way again before Spencer even has time to blink, and you’ve made it down the whole last flight by the time he pushes himself back up.
He takes the steps three at a time to catch up to you, and he once again barely manages to catch the door before it slams on him. He calls your name, finally managing to fall into step with you right before you reach Gideon. He, like a normal person, deigned to take the elevator.
“You haven’t started arguing already,” he says, passing a glance at Spencer, “have you?”
“What do you think?” you ask, your arms crossed.
“I think you’re giving him a hard time that you usually reserve for me,” he says. “Cut him some slack.”
Your jaw clenches. “I’ve been getting a lot of that lately. Save the profiling for my stalker, will you?”
“There’s plenty of profiling to go around,” Gideon says. “You two wait here—I need to confirm the safe house location before we head out.”
“Can we stop by my place before we go?” Spencer asks. “I need to pick up some things.”
“You have a go bag, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but I— I wasn’t exactly prepared for this sort of thing when I came in today.”
“You’ll be fine,” Gideon says. He walks off before Spencer can protest, and he sighs.
You lean against the wall, your arms crossed with your purse hanging off your shoulder, and for once you don’t pass judgment on his—admittedly small—plight.
“I changed my mind,” Spencer speaks up, deciding to try and break the remarkably high amount of tension that had built up in such a short time, and your eyebrows rise as you glance at him.
“About what?”
“I— I think I can do silence,” he says. “Temporarily.”
You huff a laugh. “Really?”
“I don’t really want to annoy you while we’re stuck together in an undisclosed location,” he says. “I don’t know what you’re capable of.”
And for the first time since Spencer has met you, you actually smile. It’s the smallest thing, just a slight tilt of your lips that’s more akin to Hotch’s moments of levity than anything, but it’s a smile.
“...Good choice,” you say. It feels like a joke, but Spencer isn’t sure.
He smiles anyway. You meet his eyes, and for a moment, you’re just another girl. Someone that Spencer could imagine himself stealing glances at in a lecture hall, a regular at his favorite coffee shop that he falls for over the course of an especially cold winter, someone he meets on a night out with the team that he ends up talking to all night.
You really do have pretty eyes.
And then your gaze hardens, darts away from him, and Spencer sees Gideon coming back in his peripherals. The moment fractures.
You’re not just a girl. You’re Gideon’s daughter, you’re in a remarkable amount of danger, and lest he forget, you do in fact hate him.
Spencer lets out another short sigh.
At least this safe house won’t have a pool.
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The Storm Within Tyler Owens x fem!reader
Summary: What dramatic turn of events unfolds when Y/N storms off after an argument with Tyler, only to face the fury of a tornado that strikes their town and leaves Y/N injured?
Warnings: Tornado (duh lol), angst, arguing, mention of injuries, description of injuries, sad.
Notes: I wrote this because I am a whore for Tyler, and I love angst and pain. Enjoy byeeee
You feel the tension build in the air long before Tyler raises his voice. It's the kind of unease that clings to the back of your mind, an ineffable sense that something is about to go terribly wrong. You stand in the spacious, cluttered garage that serves as the command center for Tyler's storm-chasing crew. The storm models flashing on the multiple screens show bleak promises of another monstrous storm front moving across Oklahoma.
It starts as a simple disagreement. Tyler is passionate—almost recklessly so—about chasing a particular storm cell that evening. You object, voicing your concerns about the jeopardy it poses not only to Tyler but also to the entire crew.
"You never listen, Tyler!" Your voice quavers, your frustration edging too close to the surface. Your heart hammers in your chest. "You treat this like it's some adventure, but it’s dangerous!"
Tyler rakes his fingers through his hair, his expression a mix of determination and exasperation. "It's because it is dangerous," he shoots back. "But we do this because it saves lives, Y/N. If we can predict these storms better, we can give people the time they need to get to safety."
"And what about us? What about the people who love you? Are we just collateral damage in your crusade?"
Boone, who has been editing footage on his laptop nearby, looks up, his usually cheerful face clouded with concern. Lilly and Dexter exchange worried glances, while Dani silently tinkers with a drone, her stoic demeanor betrayed by the slightest furrow of her brow.
"I can’t sit by and do nothing while you risk everything, Tyler!" Your eyes well up with tears that you fiercely try to blink away. "One day, you might not come back."
Tyler sighs heavily. He takes a step towards you, but you instinctively recoil, the hurt in your eyes deepening the chasm between you. "Y/N, you know I love you, but this—this is what I do. It’s who I am."
"Well, I can't do this right now," you say, your voice cracking. "I need to clear my head."
Without another word, you grab your coat and storm out of the garage, slamming the door behind you. The echo of the slam lingers, punctuating the silence that envelops the room.
Tyler turns back to his crew, realizing that the argument has sapped the collective energy and morale. Boone breaks the silence with his usual attempt at lightening the mood.
"She'll cool off, man. Just give her some time," he offers, though his eyes betray the uncertainty he feels.
Lilly nods, her calm demeanor trying to instill a sense of reassurance. "Tyler, she just needs space. She loves you; that much is clear. Just let her process this."
Dexter, wiser and ever the emotional compass, adds softly, "Sometimes the best way to show love is to step back and let them come to terms with their fears on their own."
Tyler nods, although doubt gnaws at him. There is a sort of irony in chasing something as unpredictable as a tornado and yet being completely at a loss when it comes to matters of the heart.
You storm off down the gravel road, away from the storm-chasing headquarters. The expanses of Oklahoma stretch around you, vast and indifferent. You walk quickly, your thoughts a tumultuous whirl that rivals the storm brewing on the horizon.
Before long, a low rumble of thunder echoes in the distance. Your instincts tell you to seek shelter, but you are too consumed by your emotions to heed the warnings. Your phone buzzes, probably Jake checking in with you, but you ignore it.
As minutes turn to an hour, the sky darkens ominously, the oppressive weight of the storm hanging palpably in the air. You look up just as the first sharp gust of wind howls past you, sending a chill down your spine.
Your phone rings again. This time, you pick it up. It is Tyler.
"Y/N, you need to get back here. Now! There's an strom projected to hit our area. It's not safe out there!"
Before you can respond, the roar of the wind drowns out his voice. In the distance, a wall of debris begins to rise—terrifying in its beauty and formidable in its power. You feel a jolt of fear as you realize the windstorm is bearing down on you.
Panic-stricken, you try to find cover, but there is nowhere to go. The winds intensify, whipping your hair across your face and pulling at your clothes. In a desperate attempt to hold onto something, anything, you grab onto a nearby fence post as the monstrous tornado descends upon the town.
Back at the garage, the team is glued to their screens, tracking the terrifying path of the cyclone. Tyler's eyes are wide with dread, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.
"We need to go find her!" he shouts, his voice breaking with worry as he lunges toward the door.
Dexter and Boone spring into action, their grips tight on his arms, holding him back with all their strength. "Tyler, we will find her," Dexter insists, his voice steady yet intense. "But rushing headfirst into this will only get us all killed. We need a plan."
Tyler struggles against their hold, desperation etched into every line of his face. "You don't understand! She’s out there, and every second counts!"
Lilly's eyes mirror his fear but she nods in agreement with Dexter. "He's right, Tyler. We have to be smart about this."
Dani is already at the armored storm-chasing vehicle, her fingers flying over the controls as she starts the engine. "Let's go," she commands, her voice a beacon of resolve amidst the chaos.
The ride out is like plunging into a nightmare. The town around them is unrecognizable—a hellscape of uprooted trees, shattered windows, and debris swirling in the violent wind. The roar of the storm is deafening, a monstrous wall of sound that seems intent on swallowing them whole.
Every turn is fraught with danger, every street a potential deathtrap. The armored vehicle groans under the force of the gale, but it presses onward, cutting a determined path through the destruction.
Tyler's eyes scan the devastation, his heart pounding, every fiber of his being focused on one thing: finding you. The storm's fury lashes at them, but their resolve is unbreakable. They are driven by a singular, desperate hope—to bring you back alive.
As the harrowing storm begins to relent, the world around you is a landscape of devastation. The monstrous tornado has passed, leaving behind a chaotic aftermath. The team ventures deeper into the wreckage, eyes scanning anxiously for any sign of you.
Then they see you. Crumpled on the ground, clutching a fence post as though it’s the only thing tethering you to life, you lie unconscious, battered by the storm’s fury. Debris is scattered all around, a haunting testament to the storm's wrath. Tyler's heart wrenches at the sight.
Without a second thought, he leaps out of the vehicle, ignoring the stinging wind and flying debris that tug at his clothes and batter his body. "No, no, no," he mutters under his breath, sprinting towards you with a singular focus.
"Y/N!" he cries out, his voice breaking as he nears you. The sound barely cuts through the howl of the wind. He kneels beside you, wrapping his arms around your frail form, shielding you from the remnants of the storm. "Please, Y/N. Wake up."
Boone, sitting in the driver’s seat, immediately jumps out of the vehicle as well. He turns to Lilly and Dexter, his expression serious and determined. "Lilly, grab the emergency blankets. Dexter, I need you to help get Y/N into the truck, now!"
Boone rushes over to Tyler, his mouth set in a grim line. "Tyler, move aside. We need to get her stabilized." He swiftly yet carefully checks your pulse and breathing. "She's still with us. We have to move quickly."
“Be careful!” Tyler shouts over the wind to the crew, his voice tinged with panic. “She’s hurt!”
They work with meticulous care, gently extricating you from the wreckage. Tyler's hands shake as he helps lift you, his mind a whirlwind of desperate prayers and fear.
Dani, standing nearby, fights back tears, her voice breaking as she says, "Hang in there, Y/N. We’re not losing you."
They rush you back to the relative safety of the vehicle, urgency in every step. The vehicle starts moving, navigating through the storm’s terrible wake with a singular mission: to get you to medical attention.
Tyler sits beside you, cradling your hand in his, his eyes never leaving your face. “Hang in there, Y/N,” he whispers, as though sheer willpower could keep you tethered to life. “We’re almost there. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”
The crew speeds through the chaotic aftermath, dodging fallen branches and uprooted signs. Dexter keeps a vigilant eye on the road, never slowing down. Lilly's hands shake as she dabs at your wounds with a cloth from the medical kit, trying to do whatever she can to help.
All the while, Tyler stays with you, his heart breaking and yet holding onto hope, as the vehicle barrels towards the hospital, each mile bringing you closer to safety. Tyler holds you tightly, his voice trembling and tears mingling with the rain on his cheeks as he whispers, "I'm so sorry. I love you. Please, hold on. Just hold on a little longer, baby."
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okay y’all, we are jumping into this. pornstar!rafe makes a big decision. ⭐️ (thank you to my bae @oceandriveab for her request and being so patient! 💖 )
He had quite literally fucked you to sleep after storming off set all because he couldn’t get his dick up because he had you on his mind. He knew the decision he had to make and that was one he never thought he would ever do and that quit filming professionally. Even if he hadn’t opened up to you much at all, and he was terrified of confessing his feelings to someone he only had ever fucked, he couldn’t continue on with this career because his addiction was now you.
You should have known better than to answer the door because as you woke up the next morning with a sore body, an empty bed and no sign or explanation from Rafe. You should have expected this and him telling you he couldn’t work anymore because he couldn’t get you off his mind was a bunch of bullshit. He told you from the start he loved pussy too much to ever quit, and you should have stopped falling for him right there. You may been acting on high emotions, but you picked up your phone and began texting him.
Rafe’s phone had been on silent when he had met with his agent and manager. He flat out told them that he was done and they laughed, an amused look on both of their faces. The ‘pussy slayer’ was retiring at 30? There was no way. Everyone knew how much he loved pussy, I mean.. what else was he gonna do? Even if he hadn’t told you much about him, or knew much about you, he knew what he felt for you was enough for him to find a new purpose in life. He knew he said he needed to take baby steps because this was all new to him, but he was tired of the jealousy he constantly felt, the way he couldn’t get you off his fucking mind. He had to show you how he felt and then would let everything fall into place after, it could have been a reckless decision but he didn’t care.
‘I don’t expect a relationship with you, but when you come to my house and tell me that I’m yours just to dip off without any explanation is bullshit Rafe. I can’t do these games with you anymore. You wanna focus on work so bad. Fine. So will I.’
You had blocked him after you sent it, whether it was right or wrong. You didn’t want to, in fact it hurt you to think about Rafe not being in your life. What hurt worse though was how this man had ruined you to the point he never left your mind, that every time he shot a scene with someone else you were filled with nothing but jealousy, and that you couldn’t continue on knowing he would constantly feed you this shit so that he could get a nut in a few times a week. Your insecurities were becoming overshadowed by fear, because you had no idea what Rafe had just done.
You had a feeling you knew who it was by the heavy knocks on your door. You didn’t want to answer and you wanted to tell him to go away. Your own body betrayed you as you began walking over to the door to answer it. He better have a damn good reason on why he was here after his little Houdini act he pulled.
“You wanna block me now?” Rafe asked, stepping through the door without another thought.
You shrugged, arms crossed over your chest as you challenged him. “Why does it matter Rafe? I should have never got my feelings involved with someone who only cares about fucking on camera and getting money from it.” You told him, avoiding his gaze. Maybe it was your own fault because he didn’t know exactly how you felt, but he certainly didn’t make it easy for you. When he whispered sweet shit in your ear it made you feel like you could tell him that you were falling for him. It would then reel back to you being afraid of rejection because he would disappear, or talk about how he loved his career too much to ever quit.
“Do you even know what I was doing? I was firing my agent and my manager because I told them I was done fucking doing porn.” He said, causing your eyes to meet his.
You didn’t believe him. There was no way the man who was obsessed with sex and couldn’t even give you a real reason on why he became a pornstar in the first place had really quit. You laughed, did he really think you were that dumb? “You are lying. You’ve hit an all time low if you think that you can tell me something like that just to fuck me again.” You said with a scoff.
Rafe did a lot of punk shit to try and hide his feelings from you, but this wasn’t something he would joke about. He laughed, shaking his head. “You think I’m lying? I fuckin quit because I love you!” He said, blurting it out before he stopped himself. It was like once he said it, he couldn’t stop the rest from flowing as he continued on. “You don’t understand how hard this is for me! This career is the only thing I have had that has made me feel worth something because I fucked everything else up in my life. This is what made me feel invincible and that I could be somebody. I don’t have anyone else because everyone pushed me away due to my choices. Then I meet you and I don’t even fucking know you, but I feel this insane connection that absolutely terrifies me. It scares me the way I feel about you, and that I really should be taking baby steps. I.. I just can’t though. I don’t want to fuck this up like I did everything else, but… I am fucking in love with you and fucking random girls on camera just to get money isn’t worth losing you over.” He told you.
This was the first time Rafe had ever truly been honest with you and you could read it all over his face. You swallowed the lump in your throat as he stepped closer, taking you by the hands as he pulled you closer. “Let me show you.” He whispered in the softest voice you had ever heard him use. You didn’t know what he meant by that, but there was no way you were turning him away.
No matter how much you loved the brutal sex the two of you shared and we’re sure there was more of that to come, this was an entirely new feeling you both were experiencing. He was being gentle with you for the first time, pouring every ounce of confusing emotions and feelings he had into you. He had you in a deep missionary position, his toned hips grinding into yours as he buried his head in your neck. “You are so goddamn beautiful.” He whispered in a breathy groan.
His cock somehow felt 10 times bigger when he went slow and it was throwing you off at how good this fucking felt. Tears streamed down your face much like the first time he had ever fucked you, but for an entirely different reason. You overwhelmed by love, clinging onto him life a lifeline as you were afraid to let him go. He had ruined you for any other man and right now you were perfectly fine with that. “Rafe… you feel so fucking good..” You whimpered, your eyes rolling back at a little as his tip kept brushing over your g-spot.
Rafe groaned into your smooth skin, his lips traveling across your collarbone and across your jaw line until he met your eyes. He knew he must have really been in love with you because he had never made love and didn’t know he was capable of such a thing. He knew his nasty side was inevitable but he really was determined to show you that he was serious about this.
“Yeah baby, say my fuckin name. That’s yours to say. All yours… my sweet angel.” His words firm but genuine as his lips ghosted over yours. The way you made him feel was better than any drug or any career, and he knew no matter how scary this was for him, you were his girl without a doubt.
The tears flowed even more as he said that, your eyes falling into his ocean ones as his cock explored every inch of you. Your lower tummy fluttered and head spun as you felt an insane orgasm approaching. “Rafe… you’re gonna make me cum. Please don’t stop.. please.” You nearly begged him, manicured nails digging into the skin of his back.
Rafe had always prided himself for being able to go many rounds before cumming. He was so overwhelmed with love, that he knew he was wasn’t going to last long. “I’m not baby, I fuckin got you. Yeah? Cum all over my cock.” He whispered against your lips before pulling you in for a deep kiss.
You couldn’t help but sob at his words, trying your best to focus on the kiss as your orgasm started to take over. You screamed his name, not caring who heard, as this moment was way too important. You shuddered against him, wrapping your legs around his waist to trap him in as his thrusts started to get sloppy. He didn’t know what you had done to him, but he found himself going back to whisper in your ear as he started slowly coming undone. “I’m gonna fuckin fill you up baby, this is all for you..” He breathed out, voice rugged as his nuts tightened and eyes rolled back at your cunt still squeezing him in.
Rafe’s groans were sweet music to your ears as his seed warmed your insides, this time followed by a gentle raspy voice whispering against your skin. “I love you..” He told you, the butterflies hitting your belly and your face breaking out into a beautiful smile.
“I love you.” You whispered back.
Rafe hadn’t said that to someone or heard it back since before he had lost his family. This was the first girl he had ever felt this way about and while the two of you may have been jumping into something that was unclear and had a lot of questions that needed to be answered, he knew this was all worth it.
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