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eureka-its-zico · 3 years ago

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Forever...(Is a long time)

Summary: Your best friend in the world just so happened to be your partner in the bureau. In a last minute request, she asks that you help her husband with their kids. Your life never mapped out anything domesticated and you didn't know the first thing about kids. But when life throws you off course you only have two options: do you turn your back on your best friend's wish or do you become the person she always knew you could be?

A/N: Here I go again. Writing another series before I ever officially finish anything else. I totally blame the fact I dreamed about this story, and after I dreamed about DILF!Jungkook...well, my brain wouldn't allow me to do anything else. As always, I hope someone out there enjoys this and that it interests someone out there. So without further ado, here is Part 1. Much love, Jenn

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: DILF!Jungkook, slow burn, friends to lover

Words: 10,435

Disclaimer: This chapter has mild violence and talks about grief.

There was always something that could be said before you went on a mission. A lot of it was chalked up to acting like you were fearless, when you were anything but. The possible unknowns always hung heavy like a storm cloud over you. Your heart beating to the tune of an unforgiving adrenaline rush that always threatened to put you over the edge. It was always a possibility your flight would take over; the fight deciding it was time to skip town. And when that moment happened, all you had to do was look to your partner beside you.

You’d been partnered with Jeon Li since basic. The two of you not starting off on the best of terms (sort of happens when you keep eating their favorite cereal...and using up their toothpaste). It took a lot of getting used to the other - learning how the other chose to operate. Li was always the more patient of the two of you. She was always looking at the ends and outs. She made sure there was a solid entrance and exit plan just in case things went south.

That was just her thing. Li was like that even off the field. If you had a girls’ day, it was planned all the way down to what time you changed into swimsuits. How long that swim lasted until the scheduled dinner time was always up for debate. It didn’t escape anyone who ever met her why she was the top field agent in, and outside, the office. Whenever someone received new intel, Li was the first one they called. She was the brains. The master behind every well thought out plan. Li lived for data and code cracking, but not so much for the messier side of field work that usually happened.

That’s where you came in. If Li was the brains you were most definitely the brawn. You were constantly chastised for not thinking and just doing.

“You always rush ahead,” she’d criticize, sounding more like a tired mother than a friend.

“It’s alright. I had it covered.”

“Oh yeah? He had a double barreled shotgun, y/n.”

“Yeah okay, well, the door more importantly had me covered.”

You showcased the half exploded door that now resembled a Dutch door. Your hands playfully swinging back the top piece like the shattered wood wasn’t going to splinter off further than it already had.

It wasn’t that you weren’t smart; you were capable of doing half of what Li could, but only half. You weren’t into looking at endless amounts of code a day trying to cypher out information or taking your time to write up incident reports when shit went sideways. You didn’t really have the patience to write out eloquently what exactly transpired between point A and B and why, when you got to C, bullets started flying.

Your superiors were quick to remind you this was categorized in their book as a, “Character flaw.” It wasn’t a character flaw to them when they sent you out begging for results, but that was an argument for a different day. Today, you were sitting here in the helicopter, your best friend reading off the debrief while you double checked your weapons, and asking you why you never settled down.You were in the middle of holstering your browning high-power and rolling your eyes at Li’s latest attempt at getting you to find a steady relationship...or home.

“Seriously, y/n, at some point you’re going to find someone who is going to make you stop running.”

You couldn’t keep the snort from escaping you. Your hands pulling tightly on the velcro of your bulletproof vest to make sure it was secured.

“Li. The kids and husband thing - that’s all you.”

“It could be a you thing too. You just have to find someone that makes you believe that.”

“Fairytales are meant for children so they believe in a better world. Unfortunately, I live in the real world. Not a fairytale. There’s too much ugly in it for me to ever see it as something magical.”

A sad smile left Li looking pained instead of amused. Which, it was accurate. This sort of discussion always left her a little more defeated each time you had them. Li moved to place her tablet at her side. Her own hands moving to check the comms channel for your ear pieces, and always checking on her gun last.

“You know, magic isn’t just for children but they damn sure help remind you the world is full of it. There is still good in this world worth fighting for; people worth fighting for. I pray one day you get to experience that, my friend.”

You weren’t sure what you could’ve told her. Your cynical heart was already geared up to block out whatever rays of sunshine Li was trying to spread, but this time you didn’t bother. If only Li knew that she was a reason for you to keep fighting. She was one of those good people, full of magic, and stories of wonder she no doubt told her children. You’d never met her husband, Jungkook. The unfortunate thing about working for a bureau: if one part of the team is off, the partner isn’t. Weddings and births included. From all the wonderful things you’d heard about him from Li’s gushing, you knew he must have been full of sunshine and rainbows, just like Li. A match made in heaven.

Except, she never could tell him what she did for a living. Not the real her, anyways and that was something Li seemed to regret.

“We drop in five, ladies!” the pilot informed you over the comms.

You and Li moved to stand at the edge of the chopper. The both of you latching your hooks to the chopper and the other on the rope. You were already starting to say your hail mary’s and trying to keep your knees from knocking together. God, how you hated heights.

“It is always nice to see after all this time, the Great Y/N is still scared of heights,” Li chuckled over the comms.

“Yeah, well God couldn’t make us all perfect,” you snipped back.

You were still holding the rope for dear life when the pilot yelled out, “Go!” Your teeth bit down violently into your bottom lip to keep yourself from screaming as you took that first step off. The sensation of your body plummeting down towards the rooftop below you was a shockwave of wind. If your knees wouldn’t get blown out from impact, you happily would’ve closed your eyes instead of watching the earth come speeding towards you like the worst kind of high-speed chase.

When your feet finally connected with the cement roof, you were grateful for the piercing bite of the impact in your feet that ricocheted to your knees. You couldn’t get yourself detached from the rope fast enough.

“If it wasn’t for us being on a time limit I would definitely stop to kiss the floor,” you groaned.

Li shook her head as she double checked her equipment. A genuine smile creased her eyes as she patted you on the back in support.

“Pigeons poop on this, y/n.”

“I would still kiss it. Pigeon poop and all.”

“I’m going to pretend you never said that.”

It was your turn to make sure all your gear had made it intact. Your right hand sliding into your holster to draw your gun free, and pointing it down towards the floor. Your body joined in on the crouched position of Li who was only a few feet ahead of you. Her hands quickly worked on picking the roof door lock. She had it open in seconds.

She motioned for you to take point and your legs quickly brought you forward. All the joking and talks of the million dollar question of will you, or won’t you, ever settle down came to a halt. Inside the close contact quarters of these hallways was the real-life chance of fucking up and someone dying. Today was not the day Li or you were dying. Not on your watch. Not in your fucking lifetime.

You made a quick motion for her to follow behind you as you raised your gun. The end of the barrel helped your eyes scope out every stairwell and doorway until you came to the one you’d been looking for.

“The sixteenth floor is where the intel is located.”

Li’s voice couldn’t have been more than a whisper. You were the only two in here, but old habits die hard and it was better to be as silent as possible. No one wanted a repeat of what happened in Morocco.

Your response was a curt nod as you pressed your back against the wall. Your free hand reaching out to take hold of the doorknob. Li responded by placing her back on the opposite side, her gun ready and pointed towards the door. You counted to three inside your head and flung the door open. Your gun moving like a third arm as you turned to the open hallway to find it empty. You kept your gun trained as Li brought up the rear.

You took note of the cameras and quickly moved to bring your neck mask up towards your nose. The can off spray paint already coming out of your cargo pocket. You gave it a good shake before reaching up and covering the camera lens in black.

“I could’ve just disabled those.”

You gave a small shrug as your hand slid the can back inside your cargo pocket. Li now took point to head towards the last door on the left.

“Disabling them doesn’t cost these assholes money to replace them.”

“I swear you were a low budget criminal in another life.”

“Thanks, Li. That’s sweet.”

She couldn’t see it, but you were smiling under your mask. Li didn’t have to see you to give a disapproving head shake, but you knew underneath she was trying not to crack a smile. You both wasted no more time sweeping each room before you finally got to the executive's office. Once Li made sure there was nothing hidden from keeping her from the computer, she was glued to the chair. Her fingers raced over the keys as you kept point with your gun trained on the door.

It was too quiet; too easy. You’ve had easy jobs before, but when you’d first got this brief the first thing you’d noticed was that the man in question, who was possibly selling weapons to foreign adversaries, was ex-military. Ex-military meant a head full of paranoia. You’d done your own recon of the building on multiple occasions. Memorized the layout in case of the need for a quick exit or a place to hide. You’d counted endless amounts of cameras and sensors. So why has it been so easy to get in here?

You should’ve been met by alarms blaring somewhere in the building. A guard roaming the hall to hunt down whatever could’ve caused a disturbance. Instead, the only sound that you heard was the ghosts of empty offices. Your hands were beginning to sweat from the dread that was building in your gut, but was there really a reason for it?

“You almost done back there, Li?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ve got it. Everything okay?”

Your eyes scanned rapidly over the glass window and the door you’d left wide open. Was that...was there movement in the reflection?

“Yeah...no. Li, I don’t think we’re alone he-”

You didn’t get a chance to finish before something was tossed inside the room. Your brows raised into your hairline as shockwaves of adrenaline took root inside your veins. You didn’t know what was in that canister, but you weren’t going to chance it.

“Li, get down!” you screamed.

You launched your body over the desk. A protective arm grabbing her on your way down and forcing her to join you on the floor. A second later the canister exploded in a cloud of smoke. Luckily, you still have your face covered. It wasn’t going to protect your lungs completely, but it was more than Li had who was currently choking back on the smoke.

“Shit.”

Your voice was heavy and laced with venom that spit out against your lips. The oncoming footsteps told you plainly that you weren’t being greeted by one or two security guards. No, whoever was coming was not security, and there were a lot of the fuckers. You needed to find a way to vent the room so Li could get air, but if the people coming down the hall were armed, which you heavily suspected, you were both going to need a lot more than air.

“Li! Is there a fire escape behind us? Li!”

You watched as her eyes looked up at yours. Sheer panic made them grow wider with each passing second until her body became racked with painful coughs. You gave her a shake trying to stop the panic from overtaking her completely. The only thing you could think to do, the only thing that mattered, was taking off your mask and placing it over her mouth. The smoke of the grenade hit your lungs instantly with your first breath. It took everything in you not to start hacking up one or both of your lungs.

“Li, listen to me! We need to get out of here! We only have a couple minutes before they are on us.”

You were still holding the mask to her face. Tears now streaking your cheeks as you struggled to hold in a gut wrenching cough. Li’s gaze met yours with a desperation noticeably behind them.

“The office next door has the actual fire escape.” She was able to get the last word out before her body became overwhelmed with a cough. This time you were quick to join her.

God, it felt like you’d swallowed sandpaper.

“We can’t get to the next room-“

Before you could finish that thought a mass of gunfire erupted in the room.

“Push!” You ordered.

The two of you used your shoulders to tip over the large oak desk and scurried to hide behind the thickest part of the legs. The room was thick with the sound of bullets leaving the chamber and embedding themselves in the wood. The glass window behind you shattering into a million pieces with pieces of books and papers flying up around you like feathers.

“This is Jeon Li! We’ve been compromised I repeat, we’ve been com-“

Another flurry of bullets came to cover up the next gas grenade that launched over the side of the desk. Li and you turned in sync to look at each other. A perfect, “Oh, fuck,” sending you up from behind the desk and straight to the exposed window. You had no choice but to turn and open suppressing fire while you waited for the stupid thing to go off. If you were wrong and it was an actual grenade, you were both fucked.

You both glanced over the side and noticed there was barely a small ledge to stand on. Just enough to, hopefully, hug the wall and shimmy over to the fire escape.

“Go! I’ll cover you, Li!”

“Y/n, no-“

“Don’t fuckin argue with me, Li just go!”

If you could’ve shoved her without accidentally sending her over the edge, you would have. That fear that had laced itself deep inside your gut was trying to call itself adrenaline and, hell, maybe it was but you knew better. The thundering in your chest was a fear so sharp it left you dizzy. The thought of Li not making it out of here to see her babies…Jeongsan was only a few months old.

No. You were getting her out of here.

You started opening fire. Your eyes caught movement behind the door and glass. You got a few good shots off right before the grenade of smoke exploded into your view. Your arm instinctively shot up to try and protect your throat and nose, but without proper masks your lungs were pretty much being eaten alive by smoke.

You watched as Li disappeared on the side of the building and you moved to follow suit. The next few bullets you fired off went blindly towards the door. Right before you stepped out of the room and onto the ledge, you made the mistake of looking down. Instantly, you felt your world begin to spin. You closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself. Either you stepped off the ledge or you were going to become a bullet bag. With one large inhale of air, you moved to take a step to the ledge.

The room erupted back into gunfire and forced you to practically throw yourself out against the building. You felt your center of gravity waiver and started praying to every available ear in the universe that you weren’t about to become a sidewalk pancake.

The shuffle of movement towards the fire escape was painfully slow. You knew you both needed to pick up the pace, but there was only so much you could do sixteen stories up. You were more than half way when you heard someone order, “Check the rooms!” And knew you were in trouble.

Li was almost to the fire escape when a head peaked out over the side.. Without thinking you lifted up your gun and started firing; forcing them back behind the protection of the wall.

“Y/n, I’m over. Jump and I’ll catch you.”

“Are you fucking crazy?!” You snapped.

She had to be if she thought you were about to attempt a jump with not even three inches under your feet. You weren’t given much of a choice when you looked through the next window and see a made in military grade armor lift up a semi-automatic directly in your direction.

“Oh, fuuuuuuuck,” you groaned.

The glass broke off into a million worlds around you. The shattered pieces blowing passed you with smaller pieces slicing into your cheeks and arms. You didn’t have time to stop and check the damage. Whether you liked it or not your only option now was to jump.

You sent out another last minute prayer and hurled yourself towards the metal railing of the fire escape. You seriously hoped Li was ready for you. She didn’t disappoint.

As soon as your chest connected against the metal guard rail, Li was right there. Her arms coming over your shoulders to grab onto your vest and haul you over the side. You were still swimming your legs over when the head that had peaked out before did so again. This time with his gun trained directly on your location. You both scrambled to move down the metal stairs as he opened fire. Another rifle joined his shortly.

You were making good time down the fire escape when a stray bullet ricocheted into your left shoulder. The pain was immediate, intense, and numbing all at once. It was as if your body wasn’t sure how it was supposed to feel about your new edition, but you all could agree it was excruciating.

A scream tore free from you and you felt, more than seen, Li halted in her steps.

“Keep going!” You roared just as it began to rain bullets down on your position.

You were struggling to think of your next step. Your head felt full of ideas but you couldn’t visualize them. The adrenaline was threatening to give way to panic and if you did that it was over. For Li. For you. For whatever data Li had pulled from that server. No, you refused to go down to some mercenary grade punks. You also knew you were sitting ducks running down the stairs like this.

When they were in the middle of a reload up top and their voices were shouting about whether or not to follow after you, you took a chance to look over the railing. Five stories up. Five flights of stairs to go and a load of trash bags down below.

“We need to jump.”

You stated it so calmly you couldn’t believe it was coming from you. Apparently, neither could Li.

“Are you fucking nuts?”

“We won’t make it down without getting struck by bullets if we keep going like this, Li. We need to take the chance and jump.”

“I hope there’s not a thrown out oven or something under those trash bags,” she groaned.

Shit, you didn’t even think of that. You didn’t have time to worry about what if’s right now. The sound of magazines being inserted and guns being cocked brought you back to the present and you felt your body leap over the metal without a second thought. It wasn’t until you landed that you wished you’d given your area of choice a glance over. You were more than sure that landing twisted your ankle. Or worse

No, jumping into waiting trash wasn’t as cool as movies made it. Li and you also weren’t getting out of it without a few groans and slow movements. It didn’t matter if your brain kept reminding your body that there were guys with guns still shooting in your general direction. Your body made itself very aware it wasn’t budging on its decidedly slower pace.

You were struggling to get out of the trash bags. Your shoulder now bleeding steadily and with a sore ankle to match…yeah you were definitely the slowest man on the team. But Li came right beside you, hauling your arm over her shoulders, and placed a supportive one around your hips.

“Come on, y/n. We’re almost out of this.”

“Don’t-don’t tempt me with a good time,” you coughed.

You were both attempting to move faster than you both could possibly go. If your lungs were still burning from gas grenades, Li’s had to be in hell. But you were still moving forward and giving it your all.

You weren’t in the clear yet, though. You could hear them giving chase. The sounds of their feet smashing against the grates of the fire escape only forcing you both to move faster. If you could just get to a vehicle you were confident you could hot wire it. Petty theft in high school pays off…sometimes.

“Li…we-we just got to find a car-“

She was directing you towards the nearest one. Even if it was a couple feet away, it felt like you were running a marathon to get there. You felt close. So incredibly close when the gunfire started again.

“Y/n, find cover!”

Li didn’t give you a chance to react. To tell her to damn with hiding. It was her job to hide. Her job was to stay alive and go home to a family that loves her…that was waiting for her. You didn’t get to tell her anything as she shoved you down behind the car and drew her gun.

It felt like slow motion. Everything in front of your eyes just seemed to stop making any sense; none of it was able to register. You saw it. You know you did, because you couldn’t unsee it. Li opened fire blindly back at the men giving chase. Her other hand came to close around the gun's handle to give it more stability. Just like you’d shown her. You wish at this moment you could’ve been proud, but when you watched two slugs find a home in her gut there wasn’t any pride there. Just pure terror.

“Li!”

You forced your body to get up. Not giving your wounded ankle another thought as you used the side of the car for stability and your arm swinging wide to bring your gun up. You wish you would have reminded yourself to time your shots.

Don’t waste bullets. Aim down your sights. Control your breathing.

None of it came to mind. You couldn’t process anything. Your mind only replays the moment of Li getting shot over and over…

You weren’t even aware you were firing. That your voice was growing raw from screaming as you hobbled out from behind the car. Your ankle was doing its own form of protesting as you took steps forward to grab Li, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care that you couldn’t feel your left arm, either. The only thing that mattered was getting Li.

When you reached her you placed your hands under her arms and started dragging her back behind the car. You were trying not to pay attention to her hands limply holding onto her stomach or the blood that seeped out between her fingers.

“Stay with me, Li!”

As soon as you knew you had her safe behind the vehicle your body burst into action. Your elbow smashed into the glass of the car three times before it gave way. Your hand reached in quickly to unlock it. You pulled Li towards the backseat and shoved her in as gently as you could. Once you knew she was secured, you made your way from the passengers side to the drivers side. The whole time staying low to the seat as you ripped out the wiring from underneath the steering wheel.

“You with me, Li? Are you still with me?”

Fuck. You were crying. Your vision was blurred and you could barely make out the colors of the wires. Or was the blood loss starting to get to you? Whatever it was, it was making you clumsy. It was costing you valuable seconds. Seconds Li was losing all because you couldn’t get two fucking wires-

When the engine burst into life a happy scream left you. You almost forgot about being shot at. Almost. You were reminded seconds later when bullets burst through the windows sending shards of glass down all around you.

“I’m so sick of this shit!”

You maneuvered up as much as you could. Your hands putting the car in reverse and another hand down on the glass. You braved peaking your head out just enough to see where you were going before dropping it down just in time to have a bullet graze past your face. You pushed down on the gas not caring in which direction it was driving you towards. Anywhere was better than this shithole.

As soon as you had a clear shot to the street you took it. You made the choice to drive blind, your head barely peeking up over the steering wheel, before you slowly moved to sit all the way up.

“We made it.” You laughed in disbelief…or was that the blood loss again? You weren’t sure but- “we’re gonna be okay, Li.”

You glanced into the back seat and realized she was barely breathing. Her eyes looking back up at you glazed over from unshed tears and something that you refused to acknowledge.

“Hey, Li don’t you fucking give up on me, you hear? Your stupid husband is waiting for you to get home. Your kids too. Don’t you do this to me.”

You weren’t aware you were sobbing until it rolled through your body landing punches in your gut - threatening to double you over. You should get her to the hospital. Common sense said get her to the hospital, but she needed to put something on the wound. She needed to stop the blood…

Without thinking you pulled over and tore out of the driver side and into the back of the beat up car. You made sure you didn’t ram into her in your haste, but quickly looked around for something to stop the blood. Your hands wrapped around a blanket tossed inside of a bag and pressed it gently to her stomach. Even that small amount left Li lurching up from the seat and a cry of pain to fill the small cab.

“Li, please. Just hold this down for me. I’m gonna get you to a hospital. You’re gonna be alright, I promise.”

There was no denying that you were crying. The blurry vision from earlier now swarming completely until you could barely make out her shape. Li tried to give you a reassuring smile, but it was as if her body no longer had enough strength to do it. She struggled just to reach her hands towards you. A weak hand softly landing on top of the ones that were pressing the blanket down into her stomach.

“Y/n,” she started softly.

“No! No, you don’t get to do this here.”

“Listen-listen to me, please.”

“Li.”

You could only sob out her name. The denial heavy in her name.

“I need-I need you to help Jungkook with the kids. I need you to promise-prom…promise me you’ll be there for my kids.”

“You won’t need me to be there for them, Li. You’re gonna be there. You’re gonna be there to watch them grow up. To graduate. Get married and give you grandkids and all that other shit. This isn’t it for you, Li.”

A tear slid out from the corners of her eyes and you sent out a shaky hand to brush them away.

“Please. Please just promise me you’ll do this for me. Be there for them.”

You felt childish - shaking your head in refusal because how could you agree? How could she ask you to watch over them like a guardian when she was going to be fine? Li was going to be fine. You were going to tell her this. Force her to understand that her journey didn’t end here when-

“Jeon Li!? Li! Don’t you dare die on me!”

You checked for a pulse. You put your ear over her lips and listened for any sort of inhalation of breath. There wasn’t any. Immediately you moved to start CPR. Your body struggling to maneuver in the small space to do it properly.

You weren’t sure how long you performed it. You weren’t sure when your body decided it just couldn’t hold out anymore and stopped. You couldn’t say when you started holding her and sobbing or how long you did it for. When other agents showed up, ambulance in tow, they just said you were rocking her. Refused to let her go.

How could you let her go? How could she expect you to fulfill her promise when sometime tonight a husband would be informed his wife was gone, and her children would never have their mother again.

—————————-

A week later…

If you’ve ever felt like an outsider at a party, maximize that feeling by a thousand. Multiply it by another thousand and that would be the most accurate account of how uncomfortable you felt here in the church’s pew.

Originally, you didn’t plan on coming to Jeon Li’s funeral. Who wants to process grief in front of strangers? Or continue having to tell the stupid lie that you and Li had been the unfortunate victims of a carjacking. How sad you poor women got caught up in something horrible coming back from a work meeting. Yeah…a carjacking. What’s a better way to say that a loved one died for something pointless? To die over something as silly as a car or money just felt insulting to the woman Li truly was. Even sillier was the fact she had died for something pointless in the end.

You wanted to scream. To tell everyone she died believing she was protecting them in ways they couldn’t ever know or understand. Li went down fighting and protecting those that she loved and this…this felt like a dishonor to her memory. To find out later the information she’d tried to take was nothing more than encrypted code for a grocery store, because somehow the bad guys knew you were coming.

And now here you are: standing in a pew, two rows back, staring at the shaking shoulders of Jungkook. Li’s and his conjoined family surrounding him; his father embracing him tightly, but not bringing him fully into a hug. They surrounded him, but no one offered to hold him. They must have believed he needed to stand strong for their kids. But a two-year-old and a three-month-old cannot fully comprehend the weight of loss that had just been placed on the shoulders of a father.

You were told to go the reading of the will. Li herself had spoken about how she’d added you in a thousand times, but you never wanted to hear it. Will’s were meant for the old, not the young.

You’d been sitting at your desk for what felt like hours, but was merely minutes. The walk into the building and the repetitive show of your badge were things you’d done easily on auto-pilot. The coffee in your hand had long gone cold, but you weren’t worried about drinking it. It was more for looks. A fake show of bravado as you walked to your desk, the now empty one devoid of the person who used to sit in front of you had been cleared out over the weekend.

The spot that used to house your best friend now only held her ghost.

Your laptop was opened and waiting for you to unlock the screen. The cold coffee you’d been clutching still firmly held its place between your hands. A part of you wished you could say that all the tears you’d shed over the last few days were enough. That you could sit here, remind yourself easily this was work, and hold it together. Judging from the way your Director looked at you as he set a file down on your desk, you weren’t convincing no one.

“Go home, y/n,” he sighed.

Even as he offered up the option for you to go he placed a Manila folder down on the desk. You didn’t bother to turn to him in greeting or look to see what was labeled on the front. All you cared about was that it was work. Something to keep you busy - to keep you going.

Still holding the cold coffee, you reached out and took the folder. Your thumb moves between its folds to spread the contents open in front of you.

“No.”

That one word came out gravelly and harsh. As if you’d attempted to swallow handfuls of glass.

“I figured no matter what I did it wouldn’t make you leave,” he conceded in defeat. His hip pressed in deeper on your desk. “Your grievance PTO still isn’t over.”

“It’s over for me.”

“Y/N…Li’s Will hearing is today. I’m supposed to advise you, by her lawyer, that you are supposed to attend.”

Your hand contracted around the soft recycled cardboard of the cup. If you squeezed down any harder you’d be wearing your five dollar cup of cold brew.

“Tell them I have more important stuff to do.”

You turned your back to him and busied yourself logging into your computer. Your fingers lazily moved over the keyboards to pull up the specific file that went with the data on the folder he’d just given you. You didn’t look at him when he tried bringing your attention back to him like a two-year-old by shaking your chair.

“What Li wanted was important. Important enough to her, matter-of-fact, that she would ask all of us to remind your stubborn ass to go. So go.”

He gave your chair one last smack before he finally left you alone inside your office. You waited longer to make sure you were fully alone before glancing over at her desk. Your eyes easily spotting the family portrait she kept framed next to her computer like a sad eye-spy. You allowed yourself to look over its intricate frame of golds and silvers; the splash of red from delicately carved roses. The family inside that frame was happy; invincibly so but you could remember the shaking shoulders of a broken man and no doubt the questions that clung to him like stale smoke. You weren’t in the mood to see someone else sharing in your grief or have the patience to keep up a charade.

With one final huff you turned back to your computer. Your decision was final.

Six long months had passed since that day. Every single day that filled up each of them felt like an eternity. You’d always heard that grief got easier with time. Whoever said that must have not known what they were talking about. The only thing you’d noticed was the pain came in waves and usually on the back of memories.

Sure, you were no longer walking around like a zombie or having random breakdowns during inappropriate times when you painfully remembered Li was gone. A part of you preferred that. It was better than walking, minding your own business, and a random smell of a plant along walkways or a freaking certain laundry detergent sent your brain down memory lane. Just yesterday you’d put on a shirt Li had picked out for you to wear on a blind date. The date had gone to shit, but Li had met you at the bar an hour later. The two of you got so drunk you’d switched clothes for reasons you’ll never understand, and ended back at her place to a movie marathon. She’d met Jungkook a week after that.

That memory alone came on sharp. Your grief swallowed you whole and left you paralyzed on the floor of your apartment. So, no. Time didn’t make grieving easier. It just allowed it to sucker punch you like a sledgehammer at random moments throughout the day. Just to remind you of what you lost.

You were making your way through the thick rows of cubicles towards your old joined office in the back. Your face buried in your phone and the latest data files IT could pull up on the new case you were working tucked under your arm. You were half way past Jhuen’s desk when the boss man’s booming voice yelled, “Y/L/N! My office! Now!”

You peaked over your phone. A timid thing just to gage whether you could get away with pretending you were deaf. By the deadly seriousness in his eyes and the hard set of his lips, you were going to say that’d be a no.

You let out a groan anyways and changed course to his office. “Looks like someone is in trouble,” Dave sang as you walked past.

“Looks like somebody doesn’t remember how to mind his own business,” you sang back, not trying to hide the sharp dislike for the man with every high note.

Nobody liked Dave. You especially didn’t like Dave for the fact he was a parasite - riding in behind someone’s failure to boot lick himself past their shadow. It was silent knowledge in the building that he, and a few others, were not to be considered friends. Or maybe you just didn’t like anyone anymore. You were known to be prickly at best when Li was still alive. The only reason you were remotely friendly was her doing, but with her gone…

You could feel his eyes burying themselves in the back of your skull. Whatever choice words he had in reply stayed with him as you quickly made your way towards the Director’s office. As soon as you crossed through the threshold, he motioned for you to shut the door behind you.

“While I appreciate you helping me remember how to sound out my last name, sir I’d like a simple call to my desk next time. If I can put that in as a request for next time.”

You plopped down into the seat that was suspiciously seated perfectly in front of him. His bulldog expression deepened the wrinkles around his eyes to successfully age him way past his years. He most definitely did not find you amusing in the slightest. You maneuvered your files into your lap and sat your phone down on top. If he wanted to have a staring contest with you, you were happy to oblige.

“Cut the wise ass remarks, y/n. I have something here that’s, well, going to be hard for you to swallow. I need to know you are going to be able to handle this.”

“Well, that was ominous as hell,” you grumbled, but there was no denying the sweat that began in your palms.

It took every ounce of control not to wipe them against the legs of your slacks. Your eyes heavily fixed on the man in front of you. He wasn't gruff because of trivial office banter. No, something was weighing him down and your chest felt like it was going to burst.

He didn’t hand it to you as much as he slid it across his desk in your direction. Only the edges of his fingers touched the edges as if whatever inside left him wanting to be far away from its contents. Well…that didn’t bode well. The apparent urge you had to ruffle his feathers, your quote “wise ass remarks,” died down when you noticed there were no markings on the folder. Not a name, post-it note, or inscribed symbol of the agency was on its baby blue front.

It only meant one thing - whatever was in the file was a matter of life and death. Beyond a ‘need to know bases’ and more towards a ‘you better pass your clearance check first’ kind of bases.

You and Li had gotten the same kind of folder a couple days before she’d died.

“Y/n,” your name left his mouth like a warning.

Your director's eyes, however, were filled with a sadness that left him uncertain. When dealing with those stuck in a continuous pattern of grief, you never knew if they were on the anger portion of that wheel. Lately, you seem to only be stuck on that section 24/7.

You didn’t hear him. Your arm extended out in blinding speed, unthinking, to snatch the folder off of his desk. The folders you’d tucked into your lap are now discarded on the floor. You knew he was talking; he must be. None of his words could make it past the sound of the blood rushing in your ears or the hammering of your heart against your chest. Your eyes were scanning the words and your brain was trying to make sense of them and the photos that accompanied them.

The only clear picture it gave sat wrong and dirty like rotted fruit in an otherwise beautiful painting. It allowed one answer to all the questions that were rising in your throat, but you refused to voice them. You weren’t aware your eyes had filled with tears until you looked back up into your director’s weathered face, and hated the amount of pity it reflected back at you.

“Li wasn’t a traitor.” Your voice was deep in shock, but the anger bubbled along its surface.

“Y/N-“

“No! Whatever - whoever - made this fucking file is wrong. She couldn’t- she...she wasn’t like that.”

God, you would’ve pitied yourself too if you knew what you looked like. The way you struggled to defend a damn woman who betrayed not only you, but her country.

“You know our intel is always solid. I couldn’t believe this either, y/n, so I made sure we triple checked everything before I gave this to you. I wanted to be sure.”

You felt sick.

“There’s still a chance that someone could just be out there to ruin whatever is left of her.”

It was a weak argument and you both knew it. Damn it, you just couldn’t allow yourself to believe any of it. So many why’s were flying around your head - all these questions to ask a dead woman who could never answer.

“Possibly. Either way you spin this it unfortunately leaves us with the fact that whatever she stole for us to give to them, it’s missing. Because it’s missing they are now going to target Jungkook and the kids to get to it.”

“How do we know it wasn’t him?”

“It wasn’t who? The husband?” He looked at you like you’d started barking.

“It’s possible. We don’t know anything about him.”

“He’s an artist -“

“That’s like the number one most suspicious job you could ever have,” you pointed out.

He let out a sigh as he leaned back into his chair. His hands moving to rest on his stomach while he gave you a once over.

“Look, y/n, I went against my superiors by giving you this information. I figured you were the best one to infiltrate the family and see what you could learn. Whatever Li had on those disks is enough to put her whole family in danger. I know you. I know, whatever you’re feeling right now, that you’ll do the right thing and protect innocent people.”

Damn him. He was right. As much as you hated sitting there thinking about the biggest betrayal you’d ever been a part of, whatever Li’s choices had been, you wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt her kids. The idea that Li would put her family in harm's way like that left the taste of bile sitting heavy in the back of your throat. You felt ready to let go of your breakfast when he placed a white envelope on his desk. It looked wrong sitting in the middle of the sea of dark wood.

“You didn’t go to the Will reading. So the lawyer sent this over a few months back.”

You didn’t want to touch it.

“Why are you giving it to me? You know I don’t want it.”

“It doesn’t matter whether or not you want it, y/n. What’s inside here is going to help you.”

“Help me what, exactly?”

You both knew what he meant. It felt claustrophobic with all the new information that’d been exposed like an old wound to the room. More so, because you still weren’t okay. You still had nightmares of driving in a vehicle with Li’s grizzly in the backseat. Her ghost staring, eyes paper white and mouth open, dripping blood, in your rear view mirror. A sickly reminder you couldn’t save her, but had she ever cared about safety?

If what your director told you was true, Li was a double agent and, worse, she was willing to risk the safety of her family. What could be worth that? Looking down at the white envelope, you knew there was a fifty-fifty of whether you were going to get your answers. But if you took it you were agreeing to whatever plan he’d cooked up.

“You are the closest to the family. Whatever Li left is enough to help you infiltrate the home and find the information we need.”

Your head was already moving rhythmically back and forth before he’d finished.

“No. I’m not doing it.”

“I wasn’t asking,” his gruff voice bellowed. “It still remains to be seen whether or not her husband was in on it, but those kids are innocent. Do you want to be responsible if they die?”

“Don’t you dare put that on me!”

The chair you’d been sitting in crashed to the floor as your legs forced you to stand. Your whole body was vibrating with rage that you struggled to contain. You wanted to launch over his desk and lash out at him. How dare he try and put the kids on you.

“It’s facts, y/n, and you know it! The are or aren’t they is what we are after, but if we don’t do something and find wherever she hid her information, her husband and those kids will be the ones paying for it.”

It made sense. Of course it made sense and he knew it. It didn’t mean that you had to like it. Or that you even needed to agree with him, because it was true. Your feelings didn’t matter when it came to protecting your country and the people who resided in it.

You didn’t bother answering him. Your feet carried you forward towards his desk so you could reach out and snatch the envelope off of his desk. He wasn’t going to get a verbal agreement from you, because you were undecided. Maybe whatever was inside could help you make the choice that needed to be made.

“Notify me if you set one foot inside that house,” he called behind you.

You didn’t respond or show any sign of acknowledgment. Your legs were bolting you to the nearest exit and what little willpower you had left was begging you not to drop the envelope and run for the hills.

—————————

This probably looked as weird as you felt and glancing down at your watch informed you that you’d been out here - like a weirdo - nearing three hours. Cars passed by and neighbors had gone in and out for groceries or mail and no one seemed to notice your presence. Their lack of awareness was truly amazing and alarming.

12:08

That’s what you read. The last light in the house - his bedroom - had turned off an hour ago. Everyone was asleep. There wasn’t going to be a better time to do this than now. So why couldn’t you take your grip off the steering wheel?

After you’d left the bureau you’d gone to a park. You found a bench shaded by a tree and called it home for the next couple hours. Li’s envelope beside you, unopened. A part of you nagged endlessly about ripping it open and finding out what was inside. The major part of you wanted nothing to do with it. If you could’ve dipped it in battery acid and called it a day, you would’ve been happy. You’d sat there for hours until the only thing you could think of was bugging the house. If her husband had been in on whatever she was doing, that seemed the most plausible thing to do. When you got to the house, however, you couldn’t imagine taking a single step inside. But you wanted answers and this seemed the most logical option since you couldn’t get answers from the dead.

With each exhale of breath, you slowly began to pry your fingers off of the wheel. When the last finger came off you reached over to the passengers side to grab the torn envelope. Your hands quickly stuffing it in the pocket of your sweatshirt as you exited the car. You made sure to grab your small duffle with the cameras and tools inside before slamming the door shut.

If a neighbor cared to look out their window they would’ve noticed a suspicious looking figure in a dark sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over their head. Said suspicious person carrying a backpack, gloves on their hands, and glancing left and right like they were waiting for someone to jump out of a bush screaming, “Caught ya!”

It was you. You were the person and you had terrible anxiety at the idea you were indeed about to get caught. You tried your best to push the thought away as you made quick work across the street and towards the back of the house. It was a typical two-story with a fence to hold in what little of a backyard they had. Li complained constantly she wanted a rural home with a real backyard, but Jungkook liked city life.

A rural home would’ve been harder to enter. Neighbors in areas meant for familial life were the nosiest bunch; neighborhood watch and all. City-style homes that were closed in on each other for some reason held a strong no-snooping policy.

With a final glance over your shoulder you braced your hands at the top of the fence and gave off a small push from the ground. Your arms instantly pulled up your weight to help guide a leg over the top of the wooden boards, so the rest of your body could tumble over to the other side. It wasn’t your most graceful entrance, but it was still quiet.

You’d previously looked into whether or not they ever bought any type of home security. You didn’t see any in the files and none previously purchased in their financial records. You silently wrote down, “Buy security,” in your mental bank as you came up to their back door. Your hands fishing your lock pick pouch from your pocket.

You knelt down in front of the lock, a small flashlight held in between your lips, as your finger set to work. You weren’t the best at lockpicking. When you’d first started training at the bureau, small things like lockpicking and chemistry weren’t your things. You’d passed them, but barely. Li was known to be the brains and you, well, you always did have a run and gun western-style approach to things. So yeah, a part of you would have preferred kicking in the door than picking it, but you stayed on your knees. Your hands working deftly in the night and a soft chorus of swear words left your lips whenever you missed the lock. When the lock finally clicked you could stop yourself from a victory, “Ah ha!” That’s right. No stupid lock was going to keep you from finishing this.

You placed the tools back inside their pouch and slid it into your pocket. The small flashlight was back in your left hand while the other was pushing open the door. All the air you’d had in your lungs suddenly felt trapped there as you took your first step inside the house. An unspoken feeling that you shouldn’t be here weighed heavily on your shoulders as your eyes took a look around.

The house itself told a story across its walls of a place where love resided. A family that was happy once was painted all over in their wedding photos to pictures of Li holding their babies straight from the womb. That one in particular hurt the worst. You never been in a relationship that lasted longer than six months to ever consider having kids. It was hard for you to imagine what it felt like to hold someone you fell in love with long before you physically met them. The level of exhaustion and overwhelming joy that brought tears to the eyes of parents meeting them for the first time. Seeing Li like that with Jungkook’s body protectively leaning over them both, a hand on both of them and looking at them with love - it hurt. It hurt more than you would’ve liked.

Inside a home that held the laughter and love of a growing family now felt suspended in grief. You were positive the house never looked this messy before, but now clothes were everywhere. A large hill of laundry sat like a crater in the middle of the sofa. Plates of last nights dinner left where they’d been placed with toys scattered like a minefield across the floor. It was a good thing you brought your flashlight because-

“Fuuuuuuuuuuc-“

Ah yes, of course you were so focused on the valley of toys that your knee ran into the edge of a dining room table. Classic. For a heartbeat you stayed as motionless as you could in the dark. The light of the flashlight dimmed as you shoved it into the leg of your pants. When you were positive no one was up you moved to take a step forward. Your flashlight came up to late before you soccer ball kicked what looked like a Koala with numbers across the living room.

The room was suddenly lit up like a disco ball. Children’s music and flashing lights of color danced across the darkness of the room. This time, your noise making was greeted by the sound of feet hitting the floor upstairs. You knew you had only a few seconds to retreat; to bolt your ass back out the door and make a run for it. If you did that though, the next time you came back, you wouldn’t have to worry about buying them a security system. He would have one here waiting for you.

With your decision halfway made you quickly turned off your flashlight. Your hands scrambled to remove the gloves off of your hands. It proved to be harder than expected because the damn things seemed to be constricted around each individual digit. You’d just got the last glove off, your hands shoving everything inside the sweater when you saw his legs and a bat come flying down the stairs. He was on the stoop before the last few steps when you shoved the hood off of your head and prayed you didn’t look as suspicious as you felt.

By the way he looked at you when he flicked the light on, you were doing a piss poor job. Using the bat he pointed it in your direction as he spoke, “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

God, lord what in the fuck were you doing here?

His voice dripped heavily with sleep; it’s burr rich and throaty matching perfect with the rest of him. His bed head left patches of hair sticking in comical fashion in every direction. Unfortunately, that was the only comical thing about him.

Why had Li never mentioned her husband was so damn…hot? This was sinful. You were sinning with every second your eyes stayed on his bare chest or the way his pajama pants sat low on his hips making your brain have to wonder the painful question of, ‘is he wearing underwear or isn’t he?’

His left arm was covered in a sleeve of art. Every single piece was different from the last, but beautifully woven into the other. It was enough to accentuate the muscles there and offered you a very good reason to keep your eyes away from his chest…and the dips of his hip bones that peaked out from the top of his pajamas. His face should’ve been the best option, but it wasn’t. Jungkook was handsome. Devastatingly so. His features still held onto the boyish softness of his youth, but had chiseled away to expose the hardline of his jaw. His Cupid bow lips pouty and soft, his brow furrowed in apprehension that gave off a glint of a piercing on his left eyebrow. His big doe eyes open in challenge-

“I said, what - the fuck- are you - doing in my house?”

Jungkook kept the bat trained on you as he took the final steps down the stairs. He was waking up with every second you stood there being wicked and full of sin. You only had one option left and you moved to do it quickly.

Your hand dug quickly into the back pocket of your jeans and fished out Li’s letter. You moved to show it to him, hand open in surrender, before replying, “I have a key.”

I have a key?! Were you mental?

You closed your eyes in an attempt to pretend you hadn’t just said that. When you opened them, Jungkook was looking at you like how you felt: stupid.

“You have a key? To my house?”

“Li gave it to me. I’m - I’m y/n.” At either the mention of Li or your name, Jungkook began to soften. The hard set of his shoulders dropped, along with the bat, and the determination that glinted in his eyes was soon replaced by sadness. You liked it better when he wanted to hit you with the bat. “She asked me to check in on you guys-“

“And you figured in the cover of darkness was a good time to do that? You figured almost seven months after her death and missing birthdays - holidays - that this is the best time to finally show up?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe you. Jungkook probably didn’t. He had a point. You could’ve done what was left in the will in her request for you to be a godmother. Hell, you could’ve started the minute she’d asked you when she was dying.

Your mouth opened to reply. Whether it was a good or bad option you weren’t sure. Fortunately, you never got to voice it. A shrill cry of a baby cut through the silence and you watched as Jungkook became a whole other person. He hoped backwards towards the stairs, his bat now placed at its base, as he pointed at you.

“Stay right there.”

The smart ass told you to tell him to fuck off and leave. The other part of you, the one you knew was going to hell, was so enthralled by watching his body bound up the stairs you knew you’d stay. Yup. You were getting a first class ticket down under for drooling over your dead friend��s husband.

The crying didn’t cease whenever Jungkook got there. It just got louder. Unforgivably loud. Now you wanted to bolt out the door because, good lord, that creature had some pipes on it. You were starting to inch toward the door when the crying grew louder as he brought the baby down the stairs. If you were able to spontaneously combust in that moment you knew that it was possible. You could also see why Li continued to want to give the man babies.

He was holding Jeongsan tightly to him. His arms bounced him up and down to try and soothe him to no avail.

“I have to get him a bottle. Do you want some coffee?”

He brushed past you to head towards the kitchen and you went dumbstruck again. He just woke up. How the hell did he smell so good?

“Sorry, but being caught like a creep in the night makes the idea of coffee seem awkward.”

“Well, that’s too bad for you. I got some questions and, key or not, if you don’t want me calling the cops I suggest you take that offered cup of coffee.”

Damn. He was good. Jungkook wasn’t playing: he meant every word. The determination on his face told you plainly if you wanted to not write a report about this your ass better show up in the kitchen. You considered if writing said lengthy report along with impending desk duty was such a bad thing when you watched him turn and walk into the kitchen. His back fully on display and -

You let out a sigh. Your feet moving on their own accord towards the kitchen.

“I’ll have your offer of coffee only if you promise to put on a shirt.”

#dilf!jungkook #friends to lovers #mutual pining #slow burn #jeon jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook series #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfiction #bts #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts series #jungkook series #kpop fanfiction #kpop scenarios

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tattlesandtales · 10 months ago

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Van smiled a little to herself as they climbed the stairs, proud of Nat for saying no after everything she’d been through. The water request was boring, but that might be because Van’s raging sweet tooth meant that she often chose anything except water and had a million options in her fridge door that Nat could choose from instead, and she’d show them to her when they got there. “Is it alright if I drink tequila while you’re sober?” She checked as she stepped into her apartment. Van wasn’t going to be the reason Nat wrecked any sort of sobriety she had going on and she’d respect it if Nat asked her not to have a drink, but by god was she ready to sit down and drink about this.

Van turned around to look at Nat and raised an eyebrow at her with a faux accusatory twist to her lips. “Why’d you have to say it like that? It is convenient,” she confirmed. “I like it, anyway. Make yourself comfortable,” she said, gesturing at the couch in front of the TV and coffee table, then swinging her hand around to point to the bar stools in front of the kitchen counter. “Toilet is down the hall, through my bedroom which is open, and behind the closed door on the left. The closed door on the right is my closet, I’d rather you didn’t piss in there.” Considering how small her apartment was, that was the extent of the tour, and she turned to continue her path to the fridge. She knew to some, her apartment would seem untidy with all of its clutter, but she thought of it as a carefully curated collection of nostalgic knickknacks and memorabilia, and it made her feel safe and comfortable. It was also clean, despite the “dust collectors” all over the shelves and window sills, but it had been a herculean effort to deep clean the apartment after her cancer was cured and the pain was no longer tethering her to her couch, the store, and her bed.

“You don’t need to drink water, I have three different types of juice, four different types of soda, chocolate milk, iced tea, and full cream milk,” Van announced, swinging open the fridge door with a flourish and waving her and in front of it to present the options to Natal–Natasha. Seeing her former teammate in her store had been weird, but seeing Nat in her apartment was even stranger. No one from the Yellowjackets was supposed to have known where she lived, but somehow they’d all found out, and yet Nat had supposedly died before she’d ever been able to see the place.

“This is so fucking weird,” Van admitted after Nat had made her choice of beverage and Van set about preparing them both. “So fucking weird,” she repeated in a mutter, shaking her head while she poured juice into her own glass. It wasn’t until she’d put everything away and given Nat her drink as she sat down next to her that she spoke again. She took a slow, deep breath in and let it out on a controlled exhale. “Okay, Nat…is it unreasonable of me to ask you to, I don’t know, prove that you are…well, you? And then you can explain to me how the everloving fuck you’re sitting here right now.” Van didn’t want to think too hard about it, but this somehow smelled of Misty Quigley’s proactive, conniving, scarily smart brain. Van just kept her gaze on Nat and waited to hear how the last year had shaped Nat, knowing she’d have to share her own story next.

SPEAKING VAN'S NAME HAD HELD SOME INTENTIONAL CONNOTATIONS, not to freak her out necessarily, but it did warrant the look of surprise on the other's face just the same. Bottom lip curls inwards between teeth as she stood there, waiting, and even she's not entirely sure of what she'd been expecting. Her body remains stiff however, even when Van looks at her with a bit more intensity than before - again, understandably so - like she's looking at a ghost. The silence surrounding them in that moment was deafening and part of her wants to ask Van to say something, anything, choosing instead not to and remains quiet herself. Allowing the woman before her to process what was happening.

When their gazes finally subside, Nat remains standing in place as Van moves around her to lock the door, turn the sign and pull down the blinds. A bit of a sway slowly begins as she stands with a slight slouch in posture, trying her best not to look too much like an adolescent waiting to be reprimanded and failing at that miserably. It isn't until all the shades are drawn down providing only a small hint of light now that Nat turns to look at Van a bit more properly. She could only imagine what was going on inside her head, regardless of how many times she's played out this scenario in her own over and over again with each individual former teammate.

Van's was always the hardest to decipher as far as their reaction, but she knows it won't be violent in comparison to some. Nat herself knows that had Travis suddenly appeared in front of her after a year of thinking he'd been dead; she would've knocked the living daylights out of him without hesitation. What does surprise her, is when Van smiles. She shouldn't have been surprised though, the redhead always was the more calm and collective one ( besides Lottie ) and in some small way, she's actually a bit relieved. So when the invitation to go upstairs is presented, Nat simply nods her head in agreement and follows behind with slow, staggering steps. The sweat on her palms beginning to dwindle a bit, thankfully.

As for the drink offer, the temptation to say yes was excruciatingly high, but she's had enough practice within the past year or so to maintain her discipline when it came to that. ❝ Would love one, actually. But, no thanks. Just water, I guess. ❞ Doubting that Van might happen to have some non-alcoholic beer in her fridge. Being sober had definitely not been easy, even after a year.

Only a few slip ups here and there, especially in the beginning after she'd literally tasted death in its entirety for the first time, but for the most part, she'd been doing really well at maintaining her self-restraint. By the time they reached the upstairs portion of the little shop, she takes a quick glance around as feet still drag behind Van towards the kitchen area. ❝ Wow, so you really do live where you work. That's… convenient. ❞ Must save a lot on gas money at least, she thinks silently to herself, lips pursing outwards nervously still. Small talk never was one of her strong suits.

#scatcrccio #scatcrccio verse 009 #van & nat #van palmer #no proof reading we die like javi

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angellesword · 4 years ago

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YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (SPECIAL CHAPTER)

⇒ a glimpse of life with Jeon Jeongguk now that you can see colors.

Pairing: Dad!Jungkook x Mom!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Genre/Warnings: established relationship au, fluff, soulmate au.

Note: This is a special chapter for YOUR EYES TELL so it contains spoiler from said fic.

drabble: your eyes tell - special chapter part 2

The total solar eclipse, a black pearl necklace being auctioned for nine hundred two thousand dollars, and you glaring at Jeon Jeongguk.

These things were rare occurrences, but it looked like the last event you had mentioned would happen more frequently.

"I said no, Jeongguk."

Jeongguk. After being together for half a decade now, your husband still shuddered with fear every time you called him using his given name.

Why couldn't you just call him Gukkie? Did he fuck up so bad that you refused to coo his favorite nickname anymore?

"But—"

Your husband tried to reason out; however, when he saw how your glare became angrier, he stopped for a few moments.

Your cheeks were flushing. This didn't look good. You were making Jeongguk nervous.

"I really wanna move back to Seoul," he tried pouting his lips since he knew you could never resist his cute face.

He knew his plan was working when you suddenly clamped your eyes shut, refusing to look at him.

"I-It's not easy to just go back to the capital, Gukkie. Our life is literally here."

Here as in Busan. You and Jeongguk decided to settle down in his hometown the second you found out that you were pregnant.

You two figured that it would be best to raise your kid in a place where she could interact with nature. Busan was known for its beaches and mountains, unlike in Seoul where you would only be surrounded by tall buildings and hustlers.

Your kid shouldn't be in a stressful city at a very young age. Jeongguk knew this too, this was why you couldn't understand why he wanted to buy a house in Seoul.

"No, it's not." Jeongguk was still pouting while shaking his head. "You're a corporate lawyer and most businesses operate in Seoul. You barely have clients here."

He was right.

"Besides, Red wants to form a partnership with you. You know it's a good offer..."

You stayed quiet for a while, only biting your lower lip because you were aware that he made a point—a good point. But then again, you also knew that he wasn't saying these things for the advancement of your career.

He only wanted to go back to Seoul because "you want Chae-won to be close to Beomgyu, right?"

Chae-won. This was the name of your four year-old daughter. Chae meant color while won meant beginning.

You and Jeongguk thought that the name suited your daughter since Chae-won was made out of love, and love in your world signified the time you began to see the pretty hues.

"W-Well yeah..." Jeongguk was stuttering, trying so hard to find an excuse. "B-But it's also because I miss city life! I miss our friends! Don't you miss Jimin-hyung? Seokjin-hyung? Red?"

Jeongguk mentioned the Kim couple as if he was implying something. Admittedly, he had been trying to include them in literally every conversation you two were having, and the reason behind this was because of Beomgyu, the first born of Seokjin and Red.

Beomgyu and Chae-won were born in the same year. The former being three months older than your daughter. The two of them only met once since the Kims lived in Seoul—which was also the sole reason why Jeongguk wanted to move back to the capital in the first place.

Chae-won and Beomgyu met two weeks ago, meaning it had also been fourteen days since your daughter started seeing colors.

You could never forget that day.

Chae-won came crying to her father, hugging his left leg as if her life depended on it.

"B-Baby...what's wrong?" Jeongguk's face was pale. He could feel the tears pricking at his eyes.

He had always been like this. Jeongguk would cry when he saw his loved ones crying too.

"Appa! My eyes!" Chae-won used her free hand to rub her eye. She was doing it vigorously, as if she wanted to get rid of it.

"What happened to your eyes, my love?" You kneeled beside your daughter, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her down.

It was obvious that your husband was losing his shit. At least one of you should try to stay calm, right?

"I-It's too bright, Mam..." Beomgyu was the one who answered on behalf of Chae-won.

You switched your gaze at Beomgyu, amazed because of how respectful he was. He was the only kid who called you Mam.

"Oh, my God..." Red suddenly gasped, covering her mouth when she realized something.

"D-Do you think they're..." Seokjin's wife stared at you, eyes widening as she trailed off.

"They're what?" Mr. Kim raised a brow, looking at his son and Chae-won.

"Soulmates?" Jeongguk supplied, unsure.

The four of you remained quiet. The only sounds that could be heard were Chae-won's sobs and Beomgyu's ragged breathing.

The four year-old boy didn't understand why his heart hurt so much just because Chae-won was crying. He wanted to wipe her tears away.

"Jeongguk..." You were the one who broke the silence. You glared at your husband because you felt like he just uttered the most absurd thing ever.

Sure, Jeongguk became a romantic when he finally accepted the idea of soulmates, but...wasn't he being a little too much?

Chae-won and Beomgyu were still young.

"I mean...it's a possibility, right? Chae-won started to cry when I told her to go play with Beomgyu." Jeongguk said, squatting to carry his baby girl.

You stood up, feeling a little uncomfortable with your position.

The six of you were inside the Kims' mansion. Red and Seokjin invited your family for dinner when they learned that you were in Seoul to attend Ji-eun's birthday party.

Actually, you would be staying here in Seoul for three days because Namjoon said he couldn't plan his daughter's birthday on his own. Even after four years, Namjoon was still chaotic as ever.

He refused to date, already happy with his life with Ji-eun.

"So are you saying that the world is so small that the daughter of my ex and my husband's former lawyer is the soulmate of my son?" Red chuckled, amused.

She wasn't sure whether to side with Jeongguk or not. But then again, they just couldn't ignore the mentioned possibility.

Fate always had its way of confusing the shit out of people.

"We can bring them to a doctor, if you want..." Seokjin blurted out, pulling Red closer to him as he patted his son's head.

Beomgyu was still staring at Chae-won, contemplating whether he should embrace her or wipe her tears away.

In the end, the little boy chose the former option, causing Jeonguk's heart to swell with so much happiness.

His happiness turned into joy when later that day, they found out that the kids were really soulmates.

"Of course I miss our friends," you finally answered Jeongguk's question after remembering what happened at the Kims' mansion two weeks ago.

"But I'm happy here, babe. Chae-won's friends are here. Her life is here. You know how much she likes visiting her grandparents whenever she pleases. She's born here, Gukkie."

Jeongguk bit his lower lip. He was the one who couldn't answer now. You made a point too.

"I say we let her decide where she wants to live. Chae-won is smart. She will know what her heart truly desires. Besides..." You went near Jeongguk, wrapping your hands around his neck.

He instantly encircled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Our daughter is still young. Let her be a kid, babe. We can't force her to seek romantic love just because she found her soulmate,"

Jeongguk looked sad, his lips trembling.

"I-I know that..." He heaved a deep sigh. "I guess I'm just scared. I don't want Chae-won to go through the pain you had experienced because of me. I met you a little late, love. I don't think I can handle seeing our daughter cry because her soulmate is in love with someone else..."

"Oh, Gukkie..." You nuzzled his nose, kissing his cheek.

Jeongguk was left craving for more, and so he placed a kiss on your sweet lips.

"Chae-won and Beomgyu are meant to be together. I'm sure fate will find a way to bring them together..."

"Just like what happened between you and me?" Your husband's eyes were wide and sparkling, like he was seeking your approval.

"Yeah, maybe even better. Maybe Beomgyu will love our precious baby more than we love her..."

"But I am the one who loves Chae-won the most!"

You chuckled because Jeongguk looked so adorable, like he was competing with a four year-old kid.

Typical Jeongguk.

"I know. I love you..."

"I love you too." Jeongguk smiled, kissing you once more. "And I'm so glad you're my soulmate..."

MORE JJK FICS WRITTEN BY ME: EUPHORIA or check MASTERLIST

#jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #ficswithluv #jungkook soulmate au #jungkook x reader #jungkook roommate au #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook fantasy au #daddy jungkook #husband jungkook #your eyes tell #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook

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kitakitsune · 4 years ago

Text

walk you home

miya.o

genre: angst, fluf, a lil bit of suna

warning: foul language, cheater suna

wc: 1.4k

pt.2

Suna Rintarou, your boyfriend for two years, he's the one that you've always love. The only reason for you to always try your best to be the perfect girlfriend. Sadly, he doesn't seem to notice your effort at all, and it makes you wonder, has he ever truly loved you?

He was nice to you, more than any other people have ever done. That's why when Suna ask you out, you don't want to let him go. You tell yourself that you will be whatever he wants, so he will not choose someone else than you. Still, it looks like that idea doesn't work. You've tried so many times, and now you're tired.

"Suna," with his hands in his pockets, he turns his back to look at you. "what is it?" you're fiddling with your fingers, feeling afraid to ask him. "it's dark outside, I think it will rain. Can you drive me home?" he sighs and walks away, "I can't, have practice."

You watch his back and mutter silently, "ah, ok." You expected this answer, but still, it stings. It’s only a simple request, at least he could be less harsh with his words. You used to think that Suna will do anything for you, but he proves you wrong. He was kind and very considering at first, and you fell for that. It's your fault for trusting him.

The sky is getting darker, you didn't bring an umbrella with you, and your house is pretty far from the school. You have no other options but to walk since Suna can't drive you home. Better be hurry before it starts to rains. You put on your jacket, change your shoes and went home.

Luck was never on your side when you need it. Suddenly the rain is pouring hard and forcing you to find a shelter. You quickly ran to the nearest store and went inside to wait. Feeling hungry, you went to the ramen section, pick a random one and pay for it.

Well, I might as well enjoy the rain with hot ramen. You open the ramen and pour hot water inside. You sat in front of the window, staring at the rain outside while waiting for your ramen to cook. The mood is quite calming, besides your slightly wet clothes and socks, you can use this moment to relax, trying to distract yourself from school works and other responsibilities.

You doze off for a moment before you catch a glimpse of a familiar figure standing across the store you're sitting. Is that Suna? You squint your eyes due to the distance. It seems like he's waiting for someone. You check your phone just in case he called or message you, but you find nothing. You look up and saw a girl in a different uniform approaching him and kiss him.

Stunned, you take a picture of them before they went away. Not even bother to take a look, you put your phone away. You're not that surprised since you know sooner or later, Suna will get tired of you. He stops hanging out with you, doesn't show affection as much as he was and often ignores you.

So he is cheating on me, but for how long? Does she worth it? I guess she is. She is prettier than me, so it's not a wonder if he chose her over me.

Your eyes stings, perhaps you forget to blink your eyes while thinking about them, or maybe it's the ache in your heart. Two years of you trying your best for him was never enough. Hold it (y/n).You're not a kid. How fucking embarrassing it will be to cry in a public place. You continue to stare at your ramen. The hot steam from the ramen hits your eyes, making it even more watery.

"creep." you hear someone whose standing beside you speak. You blink away your tears and turn your head only to meets a boy with blue eyes and dyed grey hair. He's holding a pudding and a bunch of onigiris. "Osamu." You greet him, and he took a seat beside you.

How can you not recognise this boy, the famous spiker in Inarizaki. "Why would you take a picture of them? I know you like Suna, but you should put your feelings away and stop being a stalker, you know." with a straight face, he looks at where Suna and the girl were standing before.

You glare at him and say, "stalker? who's stalking that fuckface." He chuckled at the nickname you gave him. "I thought you like Suna since you've been clinging to him every day.'' ah, so he didn't tell his friend about me. "Nah, I hate him." He looks at you and your ramen, then gives you his onigiri. You accept it with a small thanks.

"Are you sure? hate is a strong word." You drink your tea to calm yourself before you continue. "You're right. I didn't hate him. I fucking despise him." He laughs audibly, didn't even try to restrain himself. "What did he even do? Cheat on you?" he shakes his head and open the onigiri.

Feeling annoyed, you act surprised and say, "How could you know?!" He stops laughing and looks at you with a shocked expression. "Oh shit, it's true? Sorry, I don't know. I thought you were stalking him and feeling sad 'cause he has a date with him."

You continue eating, wishing he would just shut his mouth, but he turns to you and says. "Ah! Is that why you take pictures of them?" you scoffed at him. "No shit, sherlock. I thought you were supposed to be the smart siblings." He finished his onigiri and opened the pudding, giving you the extra spoon which you takes instantly.

"Don't cry over him. There are people worth more than that scum bag." You didn't know talking with Osamu would be this fun, and it feels like you're talking with an old friend. Feeling slightly relieved, you continue with your food. Both of you continue to talk while waiting for the rain to stops.

The rain has stopped, and you feel sleepy. You have finished your food and decided to went home. "Thank you. For calling me a creep and accompanying me talking shit about him." He put on a small smile and says, "Don't mention it. Where's your house anyway? Is it near?"

You told him your address. "Mine's two blocks away from your house. Mind if I walk you home?" You smile and walks home together. Your mood wasn't as bad as before, thanks to Osamu.

On the very next day, you went to Suna's classroom to talk with him. "Can we talk?" he lifted his head and groans. "What do you want?" You showed him the picture you took yesterday. "How's your volleyball practise yesterday?" He rises from his seat and says, "It's not what you think (y/n). The Practice got cancelled, and she forced me to accompany her."

"Oh yeah? Well, it surely doesn't seem like you're forced to when you let her kissed you." You look up at him, holding yourself not to slap his face. What a fuckface. "Ok, I'm sorry. Can we stop talking about this? It's just a friendly kiss, don't worry too much." He tries to avoid your eyes, not wanting to feel guilty over yesterday's incident.

"You tell me to brush it off? How the fuck can I do that? You're straight up ditching me and didn't even bother to ask if I went home safely, yet you're hanging out with another girl?" you can tell that he's frustrated, and you're causing a scene, but you don't give a damn about that.

"Fuck, you're so annoying! Do you think I want to be with you all the time? I should have called this off a long time ago." he stops for a moment to realise what he just said. "So you want to break up? That's ok. You suck anyway. Loving you is tiresome, Suna." You exit his classroom, not minding the stares you get from the other students.

You continue your day just fine. Your friends tried to cheer you up and ask you to hang out after school, but you decline their offer. You are not in the mood for hanging out with them today. All you need is food and a fluffy blanket while watching some movies in your bedroom.

As the bell rang, you soon collecting your things and went outside, only to find Osamu waiting near your classroom's door, playing with his phone. "Hey, what are you doing here?" He looks at you with his usual straight face and says, "I was waiting for you. I thought you'll be walking home alone from now on. Since our house is close, let's walk together."

-end-

notes: I'm bad at deciding the genre or description 😔 Hope you enjoy the story!!

#haikyuu #miya osamu #osamu x reader #osamu fluff #Suna Rintarou #suna x reader #suna angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluf #inarizaki

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shameonmeeguiltypleasure · 2 years ago

Note

I'm very excited for the next SMB update🥰

I'm so grateful for your patience xx

I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I have a lot of plans for my SMB universe.

Chapter 8 is getting a very deep editing makeover right now, and some scenes are getting cut buuuut...... they will be reappearing in my version of Eloise's story 'To Sir Phillip, with Pleasure' :))

So yes, there's a lot of excitement to be had and I'm so very happy to know readers are feeling it too.

So have a sneak read of a bit of Eloise's Pov that will feature in 'To Sir Phillip, with Pleasure'.

I’m actively cutting out Eloise’s Pov in SMB and putting them aside for TSPWP. Eloise is a smart woman, y’all. She knows exactly how SMB is going to end. But just because it’s inevitable, it doesn’t mean she has to make it easy.

So I do hope you enjoy this very short snippet xx

Sincere Gratitude,

ShameOnMee

As the best friend to a wallflower, one learned the best ways to escape notice. It was a skill Eloise rarely ever put into practice. Not when her mother had a talent for knowing how to thwart her attempts. But against her siblings? When in need of relief from their overbearing presence and occasional harassment? Eloise could disappear like a ghost in the wind.

Just as Penelope could be boldly outspoken, Eloise could shroud herself with invisibility whenever she desired. It was rare, but it was indeed possible.

Escaping Anthony’s watchdog presence was simple. For all he claimed he wished to see her wedded, Anthony would never let any of his sisters court without properly assessing the suitor of interest. Eloise only needed to show the barest of interest in a man and Anthony would metaphorically gut the man in conversation – asking after his every intention, dissecting him for every weakness.

Anthony might wish for her to settle on a suitor, but she knew he would only bless it if it were to be a love match. Especially so after his many blunders during Daphne's courtships.

Eloise checked to see if her eldest brother was still occupied with poor Mister Porter. Even from her hiding spot among the plants, she could see the shine of his sweat as Anthony interrogated him about his prospects.

“As if I would settle for a man without mystery,” she muttered with disgust.

Eloise watched the room, searching for her favourite redhead among the guests. But upon finding her dearest friend Eloise was overwhelmed by a sudden rush of indignant fury. From her current position, Eloise had the perfect view of Penelope by the refreshments table. A view that unfortunately included her most infuriating sibling.

Should anyone with a brain think to notice, the looks exchanged between her brother and Penelope lacked any sort of innocence and propriety. They looked at each other with hunger, a hunger Eloise only ever noticed between her Parents and her siblings towards their spouses.

She knew of Penelope’s love for her brother. While she didn’t exactly rejoice in the fact, she accepted its existence. At a certain point, she thought to even encourage it. Penelope would legally be her sister and a Bridgerton! The only possible way to claim her as a family member without bloodshed, blackmailing or even kidnapping.

But Colin didn't deserve Penelope. How dare he spend years running away from something so obvious!? How dare he, now after so many years of inadvertently hurting her friend due to stupidity, believe himself entitled to Penelope's love!!!?

Eloise loved her brother, but he needed to know just how lucky he was to be the one man her best friend fell in love with. He needed to know, that despite Penelope’s wallflower nature, he was still the man she chose despite her many options!! If not for Eloise, for Anthony, hell even the Featheringtons, another man could have swept into Penelope’s life and stolen her heart while he was oceans away doing god knows what.

And if it meant she'd have to allow other men the privilege of approaching Penelope for him to understand, so be it.....

- To Sir Phillip, with Pleasure: Eloise Pov of the Smythe-Smith Musicale (SMB chapter 8)

#answered #seducing mr bridgerton #to sir phillip with pleasure #eloise bridgerton #SMB extra content #TSPWP sneek peek #chapter progress

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silkylious · 4 years ago

Text

Safe (Kaminari Denki x Reader)

Warnings: slight angst/insecurities, comfort, fluff Pairing: kaminari denki x reader Prompt: #58 “You make me feel safe”

A/N: idk why but i hc that kaminari is actually very insecure but jokes around and shit as a coping mechanism. can you sense the self projection here. hope you enjoy this, it was very fun to write!

You sprung forward, eyes wide awake with alarm. Your mind struggled to catch up with your body; phantom sensations still lingering on your skin, static scenes of vibrant blue flames scorched into your brain as your heavy breaths died down into a slightly more regulated rhythm. This was the fifth time this week. It’s been two full months since the training camp, two full months since you’ve moved into the dorms and you still weren’t over it yet. The nightmares just wouldn’t stop.

You plopped back down on the mattress, exasperated and thoroughly annoyed at having your precious slumber cut short. Again. Honestly, for such a prestigious school, U.A. has probably the worst counseling team you’ve ever seen– or haven’t seen, because despite several of your classmates showing painfully obvious signs of trauma, the school staff has barely stepped in. You huffed at the administration’s incompetence, turning on your side to glare at nothing in particular. A ping interrupted your train of thought, drawing your attention to the device laying on your nightstand. You snatched your phone, unlocking it and immediately squinting at the brightness before checking the time. Three in the morning. Who the hell would text you at ass o’clock in the morning? You knew who.

Pika pika⚡: [image] [image] [image]

some maymays for when you wake up 😌😌

You: they’re called memes ffs

Pika pika⚡: you’re awake??👀

You: no.

The message was left on seen, though the interface of the messaging up was replaced by that of an incoming call. You rolled your eyes, though a slight smile stretched your tired features at the picture of you and Kaminari grinning at the camera. You accepted the call.

“Why are you up?” His voice came through mildly distorted but still as loud as ever, too loud for three in the fucking morning.

“Can’t sleep,” Your answer was slightly muffled by a yawn, betraying just how exhausted you were. The silence that proceeded was deafening, neither of you uttering a word, but you could faintly hear his even breathing. It was oddly calming. You sigh, lids blinking to fight off your drowsiness.

“…You’re still having nightmares?” Words tinged with worry, his voice was much quieter now, gentler. If anything, Kaminari was a great friend. He’d proven that to you time and time again. He was the only one that could tell when you were drowning in hushed misery, seeing through your well-constructed front like it was second nature to him. For someone so astoundingly moronic, he was extremely socially intelligent, and even observant when he wanted to be. And for the umptieth time, he’s showing you just how easily he could pick up on the small traces of discomfort in your voice, the silent plea left unspoken from your lips.

“Yeah…” The reply didn’t come out as resolute as you’d wished it would have been. But it couldn’t be helped. No matter how hard you willed yourself to level your tone in hopes of fending off his concerns, you knew it would all crumble at some point. Go figure your strong façade would fall apart in front of him. It’s always been him. For some reason unknown to you (yet), confiding in him just felt right, secure.

More silence ensued.

Denki was a natural at detecting people’s emotions, but that’s as far as his expertise would go. Sure, he knew how to encourage others, pushing them past their insecurities was as easy as breathing to him. With bright, golden hues and an obnoxiously dorky grin, all he had to do was utter a few optimistic words and that would get the job done. But comfort? Vulnerability? That was so far beyond the shallow waters he’d grown accustomed to. Sentimentalities weren’t his thing, he simply didn’t posses the wisdom and eloquence needed to deal with such situations. His immediate reaction would be to crack a joke, fruitless attempts at lightening the mood but he knew there was a time and place for jests, and this wasn’t one of them. Awkwardness and half-hearted jabs were his immediate reaction… because that’s how he dealt with his own problems too.

“Hey… can I come over? We can play animal crossing or something,” You sure as shit wouldn’t be able to sleep, not in this state. You needed a distraction. A friend.

“What if we get caught?”

“Would you even care if we got caught?”

A light chuckle. “No,”

“Exactly. I’ll be there in a bit.”

The line went dead, he stared at the blank screen of his phone before flopping onto his back. Why you’d be so open with him of all people when he saw just how uneasy around his other classmates, he didn’t know. The list of people he thought were more deserving of your trust was almost unending, and he wasn’t even close to the top of it. One thought brought forward another, each one getting progressively more deprecative, and the sloppily sewn patch over his self-doubt started to tear, ripped off its poorly embedded stitches. He was confident in himself, until he joined class 1-A that is. He just felt… there compared to his peers. His body was nothing to laugh at, but his build was still considerably lean compared to the people he was around. The fact that such a talented, hardworking person had taken interest in him was frankly baffling. He wasn’t as flashy as Todoroki, or as powerful as Bakugo, or as brainy as Midoriya. He was just him. Lackluster, average him. It only added insult to injury when he’d witnessed how they looked at you. They pined for you, and he couldn’t blame them. He craved you too. But god, the nagging thought that you were wasting your time hanging around someone like him, that he was stealing you away from people who were (in his opinion) glaringly more worthy of cherishing you than him, it just wouldn’t go away. You had so many stronger, smarter, better options out there that he couldn’t help but be reminded of how lacking– inadequate he was compared to seemingly everyone else. And yet you chose to get close to him. In a superhuman class full to the brim with prodigies and workaholics, you picked him. It didn’t make the slightest bit of sense.

He was fished into reality and away from his sea of self-doubt when he heard three consecutive knocks on his door. Just how long had he laid there, wallowing?

The door creaked open and you were greeted with the glorious sight of Kaminari in a Pikachu onesie, a ruffled (adorable) tuft of electric, blonde hair peeking out from under the hood. You snorted.

“Nice pj’s,”

Denki blinked, looking down only to realize that he hadn’t changed out of his onesie because of his overthinking session. An embarrassed chuckle escaped him as he scratched at the side of his cheek, a lopsided smile and a cherry tint creeping up his complexion.

“What can I say, I always have to be on brand.”

You loved that about him. He seemed so laid-back, uncaring, willing to roll with whatever punches were thrown at him, playing off jocular comments and rude insults alike with practiced ease. Giggling past him, you situated on his bed, ready to forget about your nightmares and just have fun with your friend. And if Denki was a genius at anything, it was having fun.

Hours flew by at the pace of minutes, it was now six in the morning, the sun had begun to show its yellow glow and you’d spent the entirety of dawn kicking Kaminari’s butt at Mario kart, sharing laughs and fleeting touches. He liked this, you liked this. Despite knowing that he wasn’t by any means the best suitor for you, he couldn’t halt the need to monopolize you. How could he, when your very presence (unbeknownst to you) shoved his insecurities unceremoniously into the backseat in favor of enjoying the moment with you? He hadn’t a clue how you did it, but you always managed to shoo away his doubts just by being there, and he selfishly couldn’t (and wouldn’t) let go of that. You immersed him in riveting ventures of the now, miles and acres away from his overbearing thoughts. All without even trying, without even knowing it.

It was the weekend (thank fuck) and sleeping in sounded like heaven on earth right now. If it weren’t for your nightmares. The fear of recounting those horrid memories in horrific detail again barred your eyes from sleep, regardless of how spent you were. Apparently, Denki’s spidey-friendship senses kicked in again, because he immediately noticed the apprehension on your face, the stiffness in your movements as you were preparing to leave. He knew exactly what was up with you, and he couldn’t let you leave like that, it would eat him up for days. He grabbed your wrist as you turned for the door.

“Do you wanna stay?”

Maybe it was your exhausted mind finally turning into mush, or maybe it was the softness in his voice, the docile concern in his eyes that made you agree on staying. Your compliance surprised you both, honestly. You were both very aware that you wouldn’t have accepted the offer had it been anyone else. But in retrospect it seemed rational. After all, throughout the whole night, not once did you think back to the horrors that would visit you in your sleep, not once did you feel the crippling anxiety clawing at the frayed edges of your psyche. Instead you felt secure, sound. Safe. And you came to an epiphany. Maybe it wasn’t the idea of sleep that scared you, maybe it was the impending loneliness, isolation and uncertainty that you’d often experience without him.

“Yes,”

You laid there, facing each other, a considerable distance between you. No words exchanged, yet you could tell there was a lot on his mind. He decided to voice it all in one question. He knew you were smart enough to catch the underlying self-doubt in his vaguely worded inquiry. Whether you pointed it out or not was entirely up to you, however.

“Why did you say yes to me?”

The articulation caught you off guard, you’d never seen him so… unsure before. Your mind raced with the different possible implications behind his wording, though you decided to quell them all with one single sentence. You smiled, soft and lazy, moving closer to seek out some of his warmth.

“You make me feel safe, Denki.”

And he really did. Even though you came to the revelation mere minutes ago, you accepted it swimmingly, it felt right to do so. It startled you how ready you were to embrace the newfound feelings, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kaminari was stunned, to say the least. He hadn’t expected that response from you and he honestly still couldn’t rationalize it completely either. But for now, the budding feeling in his heart trumped over his ever-present uncertainty, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari denki #denki kaminari imagine #bnha kaminari #self indulgent writing yayayya #god the projection is heavyy in this one

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the-widow-sisters · 3 years ago

Text

Just Wanna Stay

Summary: When Natasha and Yelena are invited to go to an Avengers party with all of the most richest and most powerful men in the country, Yelena is determined to stay home. Natasha does not really want to go either, but she feels like she should. Luckily, Yelena has a way of getting what she wants.

Word Count: 2035

“I’m quitting life,” Yelena dramatically declared out of the blue, still dressed in her usual cargo pants, combat boots, and tank top combo with her hair pulled back in a ponytail despite the fact that Natasha had already told her to change at least five times already. It was a stark contrast to Natasha’s apparel which was currently a sleek black dress that stopped just above her knees and dipped down in a heart-shaped neck cut.

Natasha rolled her eyes fondly, only slightly irritated with Yelena’s lack of cooperation. By now, she was mostly used to it, but it still could be terribly inconvenient sometimes.

Yelena’s largest contributor to her belligerence was that she did not want to go to the party that the Avengers were hosting tonight. While Yelena wanted to talk to the team and keep making a good impression, she most certainly did not ever want to go to a hoity toity party with the richest, most influential people in the country.

Personally, Natasha did not really want to go either, but she was much more accustomed to such things despite her discomfort. She always went despite her own dislike for them even though Clint, Steve, and the others assured her that it would be fine if she didn’t come a few times and took some time for herself.

She especially did not want to go because of the way that creepy older men drooled over her every time she walked by them. It made her terribly uncomfortable and reminded her far too much of her younger years.

It also reminded her of Dreykov and his disgusting ways.

“Hey, does my breath smell bad to you?” Yelena questioned before just moving directly into Natasha’s face and exhaling deeply out of her mouth. Natasha quickly moved away from the blonde, choking a bit as she narrowed her eyes at the blonde. Yelena grinned widely and wickedly, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and Natasha coughed hard.

“Oh, my— what did you eat?!”

“Tuna fish,” Yelena told her as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and Natasha swallowed hard, trying to keep the contents of her stomach in its proper place.

“Is it that bad?” Yelena questioned innocently before covering her mouth and nose with a hand and breathing out. She quickly withdrew her hand from her face and wrinkled her nose a bit.

“Oh, wow… That is pretty bad,” Yelena admitted sincerely, but Natasha could see the easily evident smirk on the girl’s face that the blonde was trying diligently to hide. Natasha just raised an eyebrow, completely unimpressed.

“Get in there and brush your teeth. We’re supposed to be leaving in fifteen minutes and you aren’t even dressed!” Natasha told her, trying to force some semblance of sternness in her voice to make Yelena listen to her. Yelena just sighed dramatically and deeply before heading off in the direction of her bathroom.

“Do I use the mouthwash after or before?!” Yelena called loudly after a few moments, and Natasha raised her eyebrows a bit as she looked through her things and ensured they had everything they needed to leave.

“Do it both times! You’re going to need a double dose if you’re not going to smell like that crap that you for some reason voluntarily eat,” Natasha immediately replied to her, raising her voice so that the blonde could hear her.

“You know what they say to little kids about trying new foods?! It applies to adults, too!” Yelena yelled from her place in the bathroom, a playfully condescending tone to her voice. Natasha just huffed, a smile tugging at her lips as she chose not to grace Yelena’s smart comment with a response.

“Ey, whaddya fink Ah should wear?” Yelena questioned, her words barely articulated. Natasha looked over her shoulder, taking in the sight of the blonde with a toothbrush in her mouth and foam threatening to dribble down her chin as she held up two different pantsuits. Natasha sighed deeply, looking down at her own dress before looking over at Yelena’s options. Natasha finally pointed at the white pantsuit.

“That one matches mine,” Natasha pointed at the one of her choice, and Yelena’s eyes softened for a moment before she quickly masked it with her typical impishness.

“Too ba’, Ah did’n wanta mat’ wif you,” Yelena told her defiantly, her words even more difficult to understand as she worked diligently to keep the spit and foam in her mouth, and then she spun on her heel, heading back to the bathroom. Natasha rolled her eyes, easily seeing through her sister’s bluster.

Natasha checked the time, and she quickly noted that Yelena would need to hurry if the both of them were going to leave on time.

“Hurry it up!” Natasha called. “We’ve got to leave in about five minutes!”

“I’m hurrying!” Yelena responded, her words more discernable despite her distance from the redhead. Natasha with slight irritation noted the fact that the girl’s tone was very much unhurried.

After a few more minutes and a dangerously close deadline to leave approaching, Yelena came ambling out of the room before plopping down on the couch, a pair of shoes in her hand that she dropped on the floor near the furniture.

Natasha hurried over to her quickly, aggravation starting to rise within her.

“Yelena, come on, we’re going to be late if we don’t leave now!”

“You know, that would be a true tragedy… Almost as bad as not going at all,” Yelena informed her, completely unbothered as she sunk down further in the cushions with a big grin on her face. Natasha sighed deeply before grabbing her sister’s arm and attempting to drag her to her feet.

“Get up,” Natasha insisted, and Yelena groaned, letting her full weight rest on the couch as she fought her sister.

“I know you don’t want to go, but—"

“You don’t either. So let’s just not go,” Yelena proclaimed, and Natasha just stared at her, her light green gaze piercing Yelena’s. Yelena held her stare, maintaining the challenge and firmly refusing to move.

After a long moment of staring at each other, Natasha quickly yanked her sister’s arm, trying to take her off guard and force her up. However, as soon as she tried it, Yelena repositioned her arm and threw Natasha on the couch, the blonde now standing up over the redhead.

Natasha quickly started to get up, and Yelena dove for her, landing on top of the other woman full-force and trying her best to hold her down as she grabbed her with her legs. The two grappled with each other, Yelena trying to get a good grasp on Natasha’s arms so she could hold her in place.

“Come on, you can do better than that,” Yelena taunted, her voice strained and Natasha found that the girl was starting to get the upper-hand on her.

“I can. I just don’t want to break the coffee table,” Natasha pointed out, moving her head slightly in the direction of the table next to the couch where they were wrestling. Yelena breathlessly laughed in response to the older woman, still fighting her with all the strength she had.

“You might want to consider wearing a pantsuit, too. It allows for significantly increased mobility,” Yelena said, her honey-green eyes locked onto Natasha’s. Natasha grinned a bit in spite of herself, finding that this was quite fun. It was very enjoyable to just wrestle someone that she trusted so much and knew would not hurt her.

“Dresses are hotter,” Natasha easily shot back, and Yelena shook her head, a wicked smile coming onto her face.

“Have you seen me in a pantsuit? People are like, ‘Is there something burning in here? No, don’t worry, it is just Yelena and her pantsuit,’” the blonde cockily proclaimed, poorly mimicking an American accent and deepening her voice, and Natasha laughed at Yelena, her grip weakening on her little sister.

Yelena took advantage of the opening and pinned Natasha’s arms to the couch cushions. Natasha could not even really be angry as she just looked up at Yelena who had a wild grin on her face.

“Ha! Pinned you!” Yelena victoriously proclaimed and Natasha just smiled softly up at her, feeling her chest warm with fondness and pride as she just gazed at her little sister. The both of them sat there for a long moment, their chests heaving from the struggle.

Yelena seemed to sense the mood shift, and her victorious smirk faded just a little into something much softer and more adoring. Yelena loosened up a bit and carefully allowed herself to just lay her torso down on top of Natasha’s, releasing her hold on Natasha’s arms in favor of just relaxing on the redhead. Natasha brought a hand up, stroking Yelena’s back gently before bringing her other arm up to bring her closer.

Suddenly, to Natasha’s surprise, her phone suddenly buzzed. Natasha moved her hand from Yelena’s back down to the pocket of her dress and withdrew her phone, tapping the screen lightly with her thumb.

It was then that she was reminded of the party that the both of them had to get to. The fun they just had was plenty enough to distract her from going. After all, she would much rather hang around the house with her best friend than go out and spend time with a bunch of high society snobs.

There on her phone was a text from Clint asking her if she was coming tonight or not. However, to her surprise, despite her insistence that she was going to come and bring Yelena, he had even added below it that he was perfectly willing to cover for her if she did not feel like going that night.

Natasha just gazed at the text for a long moment, and Yelena turned her head to see what her older sister was looking at. Natasha activated the keyboard function but did not type as she just quietly considered what she was going to write and what would be her choice. Yelena carefully watched the redhead’s finger and Natasha could feel the hope radiating off of the Yelena.

Natasha finally sighed a bit in resignation, typing on the phone with her thumb and informing Clint that they would indeed not be coming, and it would be greatly appreciated if he could cover for her. She could feel the smile spreading across Yelena’s face, and Natasha groaned as she repositioned underneath her sister’s weight and moved up further. Yelena’s chin was now laying on Natasha’s chest and Natasha could look her in the eyes.

It made Natasha’s heart squeeze as she took in the pure adoration, idolization, and devotion in Yelena’s eyes. Natasha was almost sure that Yelena was not aware that her eyes were giving away that much emotion, but it was really nice to just see exactly what Yelena was feeling.

“Well, are you happy now?” Natasha asked even though she knew the answer to her own question. Yelena smirked a little, narrowing her eyes, but all of the emotion was still within them as she adoringly stared at the redhead.

“Very,” Yelena replied simply, and Natasha huffed a bit with laughter, shaking her head and looking away for a moment before gazing back down at the lovable little urchin sprawled out on top of her.

“C’mon, let’s get up and change into something more comfortable if we’re staying,” Natasha started trying to make a move to get up, but Yelena latched herself around her more tightly. Natasha raised an eyebrow, staring at Yelena quizzically.

“It’s too comfy to move, and if we go change, the spot will get cold,” Yelena protested, and she had that sweet pout that she had always been able to pull off so well. As soon as Natasha saw it, she knew that the blonde now had her wrapped around her finger. Natasha sighed deeply but she just chose to lay her head back and wrap her arms around the girl, enjoying the comforting pressure of Yelena’s weight.

“Okay… But when your pants start riding up, you’re going to be stuck here.”

“Eh, a small price.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #yelena belova #black widow #widow sisters #black widow 2021 #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #black widow fanfic #black widow fic #black widow fanfiction #platonic #family #fluff

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silence-burns · 4 years ago

Text

Please Hate Me //part 45

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter, smut in this chapter

Loki, despite being raised in a royal family, was at heart a man of simple pleasures. What more could he want from life than what he already had?

The Edge was a place of wonders, that much was indisputable. And even if not all of them were easy to enjoy, there were still moments worth living for.

The stars above felt closer than the last time Loki paid attention to them. Galaxies swirled in their eternal dance, the stars bright and colorful. Here, at the edge of the known universe, one had to wonder what laid beyond it. Here, it didn't feel far at all.

But even though some part of him couldn't stop the curiosity, Loki was tired of adventures. Or at least the ones where he had to risk his life and others'. Years ago, he'd have been surprised any 'others' would choose to stick with him and stay by his side despite it all. It was still a strange, new concept that baffled him whenever he realised how comfortable he’d grown in his new life. How vastly different it was from what he had predicted his future to look like.

But it was okay, Loki concluded. If life wanted to surprise him in that way, he'd allow it.

Loki closed his eyes. The wind gathered the sweet scent of flowers, blowing it through the lush gardens, overflowing with life. It was one of the many wonders of the Edge - how capable it was of change. How easy it was for the muddy creeks to turn into crystal-clear ponds. How the dry patches of grass could turn into fields of greenery and flowers. How the gnarled trees could turn into a forest thrumming with noise and movement.

All of it for a price paid in blood and ash.

Loki's hand brushed his throat, where he had still felt the ghosts of pain.

It was over, Loki had to remind himself again. The mission was over and they were all leaving the Edge soon. There were other, better, things to focus on. He should think about how soft the grass was as he laid on the field. How warm you felt, pushed into his side and wrapped in his cape. How peaceful it was among the trees, with birds singing somewhere in the distance-

"Don't ya fucking LICK that frog, Peter, or I swear on your aunt, I'll-"

"It smells like carrots!"

"It doesn't mean you have to- oh my god… This is the last time I abduct you."

Loki smiled. The birds were no longer singing, or at least not through the deafening ringing in his ear, but he didn't mind. He didn't mind that life at all.

He heard rushed steps to his left moments before the boy reached him. Loki cracked one eye open.

The fattest, most annoyed, orange frog he had ever seen flopped from the boy's hands, all six legs dangling loose.

Peter's smile was brighter than the countless stars overhead. "Look what I found, Mr. Mischief! There were more of them, and in different colors too!"

The frog burped. It indeed smelled of carrots.

Loki closed his eye. "What does it taste like?"

"Like a frog, unfortunately…"

"You should check out the other ones."

"Okay!"

And before he knew it, the boy was gone. The thicket shook. A few faeries rushed away, desperately flapping their translucent wings.

"He's gonna lick all the frogs now," you grumbled from your cocoon. "He's gonna be sick."

"I can heal him."

"How nice of you. I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"What can I say, darling? I'm a generous god."

"So in all your godly wisdom you told the boy to go lick some frogs?"

"Let him have some fun."

You turned your head to face him. Loki was looking at the stars overhead. Dark bruises peeked from under his collar. Magical aftershock, he had called them when he had explained why they didn't disappear despite his healing. They'd stay for a while, he said. A small price to pay.

"I'm glad it's over," you said quietly.

"So am I."

"Do you think…," you licked your lips. "Is it okay for us to just lay here and enjoy this change?"

The Edge took a shape that was so vastly different that it still seemed like a miracle. The balance was indeed a precarious thing there, no flicker of energy ever wasted. The land replenished, bringing to life things that made you admit that magic could be beautiful.

Still, you couldn't forget where all this energy came from. How the Queen had delayed her own fading by killing so many others.

"We did what we could," Loki understood your worry too well. "It is beyond us to change the laws of these lands and their dwellers. Harsh as this might feel to us, this is what life looks like here. All this," he gestured to the shimmering forest around, "is what the Edge was always supposed to be like, if the order of things had been kept."

"Wise words coming from an outsider."

You unfurled from Loki's cape so fast you almost ripped it from beneath him. The Prince was standing at the edge of the clearing the three of you chose to spend your final hours at. He was wearing a robe in distinct shades of silver, the pattern covering the fine fabric meandering within the eye-catching lines. It was the most vivid thing you'd ever seen him wear, the shine of the metal pieces razor-sharp.

The Prince wasn't looking at you. "I have lived for so long I couldn’t remember how my own world was supposed to be. How strange it was to see it wither throughout the centuries despite the Queen's fading supposedly filling out the essence lacking. How strange it was for so many Rifts to form and plague our lands. How peaceful it had become now…"

Loki and you exchanged glances, but kept quiet. The Prince kept his hands clasped behind his back, but you couldn't forget them drenched in blood.

During the silence after the Prince's words, Peter came back from whatever he had occupied himself with and likely annoyed whatever creature he managed to find. He took one look at the visitor and disappeared between the trees again. He was a smart boy, after all.

"We are glad this issue is resolved at last," Loki said carefully.

"So am I."

The Prince nodded to himself. His eyes were cold and distant. You wondered how long one had to live to forget their own past.

And how long it'd take the Prince to vanish, now that the weight of fading had fallen to him.

"The body of your ambassador is being prepared for the transport," he said at last before leaving the clearing. He did not take the path towards the palace, though. Loki and you watched him disappear between the trees, walking slowly among the flowers in full bloom. You couldn't help but wonder if he was reminiscing, or creating fresh memories.

The air tasted like ash in your mouth.

"I think I prefer spiders."

Loki shushed you. "Don't bring bad luck. I want to leave this place in one piece."

"Oh? And where would you rather be?" you asked as you laid back down on the soft grass.

"Somewhere nice and quiet, but I'm open to suggestions," Loki purred into your ear, bringing you close to his chest.

"Then I'm sure my little surprise will be to your liking."

Loki stilled. "A what?"

"You'll have to be patient. We're here, so I'm not sure what's going on on Earth, but I think it should be ready when we're back."

Loki's mind was overflowing with all the possibilities and ideas. He went over your past conversations, trying to piece together whatever hints you might have given him. "Should I guess?"

"I'm not telling you anything. You have to wait."

Loki did not want to wait, but his options were limited.

By the time you were to leave the Edge, he was no closer to finding out what you had planned. The three of you waited patiently on the same balcony you had arrived on all those weeks ago. It hadn't felt that long, probably because of how much had happened since then.

Roses climbed high over the stone walls of the palace, their flowers heavy and blooming. Petals rained down, picked off by the wind and taken away.

The ambassador's body was wrapped in silk and bound tight, ready to be taken to his birthplace at last.

"Do you think he found out what the Queen had been doing?" you asked quietly.

"He might've been suspicious enough to look for all those ancient scrolls in the library and pieced together the facts," Loki said.

"And the Queen didn't let him spill her secret."

Peter frowned. "So… she was the bad guy, right?"

If only things were so easy.

"Often, there's no good or bad," Loki said, looking at the roses. "There are just things that'll hurt you more than the others, and the things that'll hurt others but save you the pain. Everything is a matter of choice. And values."

The three of you watched the Bifrost open and swallow the remains of the ambassador. Only he would be allowed on the grounds of Asgard that day, at least officially. No hint of emotion could be noticed on Loki's face as he watched the flash of light disappear. You took his hand.

Out of the shadows of one of the towers came the Prince, entering the balcony from the side of the river, shimmering far below. He was alone, no guards following his steps. You wondered how many of them were left.

"Looks like this is farewell," he said in a deep voice.

"We are glad we could help," Loki lied smoothly.

There were no words left to exchange. It was clear that whatever would happen now to this place was way beyond either of your control.

No amount of evidence could ever make you trust the Prince, though.

The light surrounded you in a flash of colors, pulling on each and every fiber of your being. Loki tugged you into his side, Peter sticking himself to his other.

The feeling of being ripped to atoms and then roughly put back into shape half a galaxy away was almost familiar by now. Still, it was no more bearable than the previous times and left you with a mild dizziness once your form materialized back on Earth.

You'd never laugh at people clapping after plane landings again.

The sudden change of the surroundings hit you with a cold blast of winter chill and sun, although its light was diluted through the clouds. It was strange not to see the galaxies in the reach of your hand.

What was even stranger was seeing Thor calmly standing at the top of the Stark Tower, where the three of you had been transported to.

"I think I prefer the bag," Peter mumbled, dangerously green on his face.

Thor approached you with a frown that, Loki knew, had never led to anything good. At least not for him. Brotherly love could be rough at times.

"So, you're back," he said, openly eyeing the kid. "How did it go? Are we at war?"

"We're all good, thanks for your concern," you cooed sweetly.

"The Edge was never more beautiful than when we left it," Loki smiled.

Thor took a steadying breath. "...is it in ruin?"

You thought back to the slightly devastated great hall of the palace. And the gardens still dealing with the aftermath of a spider infestation.

"I just told you it's not! Why do you always accuse me of lying, brother? I'm deeply hurt by your lack of trust."

"It's the safer option," Thor said. "As glad as I am to learn that the crisis is apparently solved, I dare ask what is the boy doing with you?"

Peter blanched.

Loki pushed him off the roof. "What boy?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw not-a-boy swinging off into the city as fast as his webs allowed him.

The second steadying breath helped Thor even less than the first one. There was a tiny little vein pulsing at his temple, threatening to burst along with his temper.

Loki patted Thor's arm on his way to the stairs. "Don't worry, brother. We took care of everything."

"That's precisely why I worry."

You sent him a kiss as you followed Loki. It didn't seem to be appreciated enough.

You couldn't believe you were back on Earth. The change that felt huge before, only grew with each step you took down the Tower's familiar corridors. The kitchens, the day rooms, training grounds - it all felt so strangely unreal after the weeks living among the shifting, feral magic of the Edge.

"It's good to be back," you said at precisely the moment Bruce Banner appeared on the other end of the corridor leading through the labs.

Bruce froze, his eyes growing wide. He, apparently, had a dramatically different opinion about your coming back.

He shifted nervously on his feet, but there was no escape. "So, uh… How did it go?"

Loki pretended to think. "Well, don't expect to see the real moon anytime soon."

The look on Bruce's face was worth a pic, but your phone had been left in your room before the mission.

"It really is good to be back," Loki repeated your earlier words sometime later, once the door to your room closed behind your back.

Not much seemed to have changed, which was strangely reassuring. Loki wasn't sure what his feelings were towards the small figurine of his unnerving similarity were, but even its sight was not unwelcome. It still stood on the narrow and slightly dusty windowsill, covered in the snow on the other side of glass.

But there was one thing out of order that immediately caught Loki's attention. As far as he was concerned, the neat stack of business cards on the bedside table was not there last time, as well as the not-so-neat single one, with hand painted spider and a set of what could be horns, if one squinted hard enough.

'thought it would be cool' said the little note scribbled with a gel pen.

"And what is that?" Loki asked, picking it up.

"Part of the surprise."

"'Professional mischief for an affordable price'," Loki read out loud. "Sounds like a catchphrase of some detective agency, like the ones from the shows you showed me."

Loki thought about what he just said. He looked at you with a frown.

"Only if you want it to," you shrugged with a little smile ghosting over your lips.

Loki blinked. "You're actually serious."

"I thought it would be nice if we had something of our own. You know, outside of this mess," you pointed towards the door, currently being banged with a fist from the other side. Two voices demanded to know 'everything about that damn moon'.

Loki looked back at the neat stack of cards. The thick paper was pleasant to the touch.

"You said it was only part of the surprise?"

"How glad I am you asked, love."

Loki watched you pick up your coat and gloves. You opened the large window to the left, letting the alarmingly chill air inside. "Shall we?"

One more voice joined the ones behind the door. Loki could not see into the future, but he had a feeling that door would be the most occupied place in the Tower soon.

"That's a lovely idea," he said and picked you up.

The burst of magic solidified under his feet as the two of you left the Tower and all the people looking for you.

The sun was slowly setting. It was not late, but as always during the winter time, day hours were sparse. You were high enough in the air for the pedestrians not to notice you, but even then, what would they do? Tony had been flying around in his suit on a daily basis, and wouldn't hear anyone having a problem with that.

The wind pushed rogue snowflakes into your faces. It felt refreshing to be back in the city you were so familiar with. Everything seemed new and wondrous, especially from such a perspective. Even plane flights couldn't do it justice, not when you couldn't feel the breeze in your face, and clouds passing by so closely you could almost reach out to them with a hand.

Loki changed course when you directed him to the older part of the city. It was still relatively close to the centre, but no skyscrapers, and certainly no towers could be found in the neighborhood of old brick apartments; only buildings a few floors high, and narrow lawns separating their fronts and the road, both currently covered in snow. No one bothered to take care of it, at least since it last fell.

Loki put you down in front of the one you pointed him to.

"I must admit I'm surprised," Loki said. "I'd never expect to come to a place like this, for whatever reason."

"You don't even know why we're here yet." You led him up the ice-covered stairs to the scarcely lit interior stairwell.

You ignored the apartments on the lowest floor, and instead took him upstairs. With a set of keys you fished out of your jacket, and which Loki dimly remembered you grabbing before leaving the Tower, you opened the door with a number 13 on it.

"You're not superstitious, right?" you laughed quietly.

Feeling you observe him carefully, Loki stepped inside. The short hall led to a room that once upon a time could've been someone's office. But that was a long time and a few crises ago, when the furniture was free of the scratches, and the walls didn't shed old paint every time seasons changed. Still, it had its charm, Loki had to admit as he stepped further in. If cleaned, the large window could allow a lot of light onto the heavy desk in front of it, and to the sitting area with two couches and a coffee table. To the right, Loki noticed another set of stairs, leading upwards.

"The upper part is connected. The previous owner used it as an apartment, with this here being his working area," you explained.

Loki nodded.

"What do you think?" you elbowed him in the side, too nervous to wait patiently.

Loki sat on one of the couches. Oh, he could definitely feel the atmosphere of this place, so similar to the crime shows you had made him binge (and he didn't even whine about too much). He had never thought of himself as a detective, not like the ones on TV, but on the other hand - who on Earth could be better at solving any and all supernatural secrets this planet might still have? There certainly didn't seem to be a lot of competition in that area.

He was still contemplating his future and, of course, possible fame, when you slipped onto his lap and cupped his face.

"What. Do you. Think?," you asked clearly, looking him straight in the eye. "Don't make me wait, asshole."

A lazy, satisfied smile creeped on Loki's face - precisely the one he knew always drove you crazy.

"I'm still unsure, darling," he drawled, leaning further back onto the couch and reveling in the feeling of having you pressed against him. "For some very strange reason, I can't make up my mind just yet…"

The setting sun painted golden patterns on your face. Your hand wandered over Loki's chest, and stopped over his racing heart. However much he tried to stop it, his heart had always been the one to betray his every emotion.

"That's such a shame," you leaned into his neck, pushing his head to the side. "I would do anything to make it easier for you…"

Loki's hands slipped to your thighs, holding you steady against him. His fingers shook when he felt your lips follow the curve of his neck, right over his rapid pulse. He closed his eyes as you slowly worked on undoing his shirt.

"Anything you do will be enough," his words were breathy and quiet.

"Are you sure?"

"I can't think of a single thing I wouldn't let you do to me right now."

You certainly were enjoying yourself just as much, given the smile ghosting over Loki's collarbone, and the trail of kisses going slowly down. Loki's grip tightened over your legs, his breath becoming shorter the further you went. He felt the heat rising deep inside his chest, just as his thoughts turned murkier with each small movement of your hips, brushing unnervingly close to where he had wanted them to, but still not-

A strangled sound escaped his throat. Loki pushed the coat off your shoulders and threw it to the side, not caring where it landed. He had other things on his mind, and one of them included his hands diving under your shirt, and roaming over your back, so wonderfully warm.

Loki shivered when you brushed over his bulge, earning you a breathless moan as you worked on his belt.

"I think I'm starting to warm up to this place," he muttered into your lips. His fingers tugged on your trousers, as impatient as yours.

You drank in the sounds that came from him. You stroked his shaft gently, brushing your thumb over its underside. He shuddered in your grip, tense to the point of near pain. Loki's nails dug into the skin of your back as you rose and then sank onto him, taking him in an unnervingly slow pace.

His heart thundered in his chest as you rode him gently, the sight engraving itself into Loki's memories - those deepest, most secretive ones, which he often came back to to relive and thoroughly enjoy.

The couch kept creaking under the two of you, growing louder as your moves became sloppier and more desperate. Loki couldn't help his hips from grinding into yours every time you rose above him, chasing the pleasure and getting close to it. Loki's thrusts became erratic. His hands gripped your ass when you leaned closer, hitting just the right spot-

He came, shivering under your touch, waves of pleasure shooting through his body.

"Sorry," he muttered, his voice hoarse. He could already feel the redness blooming over his cheeks. He didn't think he'd be done so soon, hadn't planned it…

You shut him up with a kiss, brushing the hair plastered to his forehead to the side. Your hips rolled over his a few more times, riding him into the couch and melting his bones as you extended the feeling.

"It's okay," you said. "We have all the time in the world now."

Loki nodded, words failing him. He brought you closer to his chest, his arms closing around you in a tight embrace as he burrowed his face into the crook of your neck. For a few moments, the only thing he could think about was that home wasn't always a planet, or a building. Sometimes, on those few rare, and incredibly lucky occasions, it could be a person.

And it was more than enough.

"I love this place," Loki admitted quietly.

#please hate me #loki x reader #loki x you #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki marvel #loki mcu #marvel #loki series #loki fanfiction #loki smut #I Love Loki

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spencers-renaissance · 4 years ago

Text

100

Summary: Spencer's an academic researcher who spends every morning at his local library. Derek just happens to drop by one Tuesday and ask the pretty boy in the classics section if he can help him find a book. Sparks fly.

Tags: library au, shy spencer, tooth-rotting fluff, flirting, coming out, spencer does not work at the bau

Pairing: Morgan x Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

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Spencer’s working in his favourite corner of the library by 7.35am, stuck straight into his latest research paper while Katherine bustles quietly around the bookshelves, tidying and re-ordering as much as possible before the rush of people pour through the door. She’s probably his favourite opener. She’s calm and efficient and smiles warmly at him but doesn’t engage him in pointless conversation that distracts him from his work, although that’s not to say they haven’t had a few chats here and there. It’s a quiet moment of companionable solitude; the perfect environment for a productive early morning.

He’s vaguely aware of a gradual increase in patrons, the ambient noise level rising ever so slightly as he pours over copies of an obscure ancient philosophical text he’d obtained from the local museum, annotating furiously as he scrunches his brow in concentration. It’s sucked him in enough that he nearly jumps out of his skin when he’s tapped on the shoulder, whirling around to face probably the most attractive man he’s ever met. Immediately, he flushes red, half from the embarrassment of over-reacting, half from the intensity of the urge to jump this man’s bones.

“Hi, I’m sorry I made you jump,” the man chuckles, taking a step back to give him a bit of space. “I can’t find any librarians around and I noticed the philosophy textbook you have on your desk and thought you might be able to help me…” He trails off looking a bit awkward and uncomfortable, clearly out of his element.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Spencer says, a little intimidated but still very eager to spend any amount of time with the Greek god he’s just so happened to encounter on a random Tuesday morning.

“You will?” the man asks, smiling. “Great. Basically my best friend went to an intro to philosophy class at the local community college, one of her many whimsical new projects, and is now obsessed. I was told in no uncertain terms to pick up as many books on the subject as I could before work this morning.”

“Wow,” Spencer breathes a laugh, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Well, I don’t blame her, philosophy is a great subject. I’m working on my fourth PhD in it now, actually.”

“What, you have four PhDs in philosophy?” he asks incredulously.

“No, no,” Spencer smiles, looking down shyly. “My other three are in chemistry, maths, and engineering. This is my first in philosophy. Sorry that was misleading.”

“Looks like I asked the right person, then,” he grins. “I’m Derek.”

“Spencer,” he replies, blushing at the warm look Derek is sending his way. “We’re actually in the classics section, this is just my favourite corner. The philosophy texts are over here.”

He leads the way through the maze of bookshelves, arriving at the little alcove that houses the philosophy and psychology books. With a vague idea of what Derek is looking for, he dives straight into the shelves, combing through the spines until he finds a few options for his friend. “She should probably start with this one: Big Ideas Simply Explained and then move on to Think, which is one of my favourites. This one, How Philosophy Works, will be best if she’s a visual learner instead, and if you want something a bit more complicated, try Philosophy Made Slightly Less Difficult.” He piles on a few extra as he looks around for any he missed before turning around and gesturing that he’s done.

“This is… amazing, thank you,” Derek says gratefully. “I don’t even know why she chose philosophy, it’s a bit random for a computer nerd, isn’t it?”

“Actually about 0.58% of all US college students graduate with a philosophy degree, so it’s not as uncommon as people may think. It’s the 89th most popular major according to last year’s data, but I don’t know the statistics for people with computer science degrees or careers learning about philosophy in an official or unofficial capacity, I’m afraid,” Spencer explains, hands moving expressively as he reels off his statistics.

The mildly impressed expression that’s been pretty permanently painted on Derek’s face the whole time he’s been speaking with Spencer intensifies as he listens intently to his statistics. “Damn, pretty boy, you really know your stuff,” he marvels, eyes wide. “You some sort of genius or something?”

Spencer blushes furiously at that, ducking his head slightly. “Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute.”

Derek just stares at him.

“So, yeah, I guess I’m a genius?” he says bashfully.

“No, that 100% qualifies for genius status,” Derek asserts confidently. “Not that I have any sort of qualification to rule on the matter, but in my eyes you are definitely a genius.”

“Thank you,” Spencer murmurs, blush somehow deepening at the unexpected praise from the man who will now occupy his dreams. “You seem pretty smart, too, though. What do you do?”

“I’m an FBI agent.”

Damn it. As if he couldn’t get any sexier. “Wow, that’s… impressive,” Spencer remarks. “Does your friend work there, too?”

“Yeah, she’s our technical analyst,” Derek explains, smiling fondly. “She’s amazing, you’d love her.”

“Well we’ve already got one shared interest,” Spencer points out, gesturing to the books piled high in Derek’s arms. Spencer would’ve collapsed by now, but he’s barely flinching under the weight of seven bulky philosophy texts.

“That’s true,” Derek grins. “Speaking of work, though, pretty boy, I have to run, I’m already late. Thank you so much for your help, though.”

“No problem,” Spencer says softly, definitely not mournfully, as he watches Derek walk away to the check-out desk where Katherine smiles at him as he scans the books through, sending a discreet wink over at Spencer. He glares back jokingly before walking back over to his desk.

He continues working but he can’t help but feel emptiness sinking heavy in his stomach, the kind of a missed opportunity, of almost, of could have been. Immanuel Kant still gets his attention, but he’d be lying if he said that a decent portion of it wasn’t focused on hoping, praying that his path crosses with Derek again, that he’s not replaying every moment over and over in his mind.

⭐️

Derek is very late. He rushes into the briefing room where Penelope is already explaining the case to the team. Rolling his eyes at her pointed look, he dumps the books down on the table in front of her. “Don’t blame me, baby girl, doing your chores is what made me late,” he protests, taking a seat next to Emily.

“Well, maybe you should have been quicker,” Penelope quips, before promptly moving on with the case at Hotch’s pointed glare.

He barely has a moment to think about anything but double homicide until they’re mid-flight and the debriefing is finally over. Moving to the back of the plane, he looks out the window as he plays over the morning’s trip to the library. Spencer might just be the prettiest boy he’s ever met, and making him blush is probably the most fun he’s had all week. Bonus points for intelligence, of course, even after spending just a few minutes with him, he could confidently say he was a walking encyclopedia.

On the drive from the library to Quantico, he’d thought about finding some ruse to go back the next day. Spencer seemed as though he knew the library well, like he spent a lot of time there. Maybe he could go back and actually ask for his number this time; he was gonna take that boy out on a date if it’s the last thing he does. Now, though, that’s going to have to wait.

“Alright,” Emily sighs, flopping into the seat opposite him and dragging him out of his head, “what’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?” Derek asks reflexively, feeling a little defensive.

“Well you were late this morning, not unusual, but you’re not listening to music and instead choosing to stare pensively out the window. Plus, you barely had anything to contribute during debriefing,” she explains, raising an eyebrow.

“Drop it,” he says, sending her a look, but it’s teasing and light-hearted.

“Oh my God, there’s a girl,” she gasps. “And not just any girl, you like her!”

“There absolutely is not,” he says truthfully, raising an eyebrow. He’s not exactly out to the team, not out of fear of how they’ll react but more because he finds coming out awkward and he’s never found the right time, really.

“Suit yourself,” Emily teases, pulling out her phone to play online scrabble.

Derek just scoffs and looks out the window again, definitely not letting his thoughts wander back to Spencer. Definitely not.

⭐️

Spencer walks into the library the following Monday with low expectations. He’d thought that Derek might come back in last week, if not to see him then maybe to return his friend’s books or find more for her, but his wish had been unsuccessful. Accepting that it was a chance encounter that would ultimately go nowhere, and reminding himself that Spencer Reid’s life was decidedly not like the movies, he unpacks his papers from his messenger bag in his favourite corner again and gets back to work. He’s over the moon with the headway he’s making on his paper, and he settles in for another productive morning of work.

Just like last time, Derek creeps up on him while he’s completely in the zone, slipping into the seat opposite him, but at least Spencer doesn’t jump this time. No, he just feels his face immediately brighten, looking far too excited to see a near-stranger again.

“Good morning, pretty boy,” he grins, laughing fondly at Spencer’s reaction.

“Derek, you came back,” he says happily, putting down his pen.

“Yeah, I had a case immediately after I came to the library last Tuesday and it was a tough one. We only wrapped it up yesterday so I have today off, a rare luxury,” he explains, and Spencer tries not to read into it too much, tries not to think that Derek is saying he would’ve come back sooner if he could, tries to take him at face value.

“The exciting life of an FBI agent.”

“Not as glamorous as the movies,” Derek agrees.

“I’m, uh- glad you came back,” Spencer admits shyly, afraid of coming on too strong.

“Well, would you like to get dinner sometime?” Derek asks.

“Really?” Spencer asks, looking up at Derek with shock written across his face.

“Of course,” Derek chuckles. “I mean, I love Penelope, but if she wants more philosophy books she can get them herself. I came back to see you.”

“You did?” Spencer’s still a little floored by Derek’s words, but slowly a warmth starts to bloom inside him as he realises what’s happening.

“I did,” Derek smiles gently. “Now, about that date. How does tonight sound?”

⭐️

Derek decides on his favourite Italian place to treat Spencer at and his cheeks hurt by the end of the night; he’s pretty sure not one moment went by when he wasn’t smiling fondly at his statistics or stories or blushing. He slips his hand into Spencer’s as they walk out of the restaurant, swinging their arms a bit, directing them down the street towards the 24/7 ice cream parlour.

“I love ice cream,” Spencer grins as they head inside, his cheeks red from the cold winter air and the copious red wine they’d had with dinner.

“Who doesn’t?” Derek asks, leading him up to the counter.

Spencer insists on sampling far too many flavours before deciding on cookies and cream with mint chocolate chip in a cone. He licks at it happily while Derek sits opposite with two scoops of raspberry ripple in a cup and forces himself to think very pure thoughts.

“Thank you for this, Derek,” he beams over his cone.

“Oh, pretty boy,” Derek says fondly. “Thank you.”

Emily spots it the minute he walks into the bullpen the next day. “I’m guessing things are going well with her,” she smirks as she skids over on her chair, grinning wildly.

He sighs as he sits down, looking up at her as he sets his stuff down. “With him, yes,” he confirms, smiling a little.

She raises her eyebrows and pauses for a moment. “Wow, okay, okay,” she says. “Well, I hope I can meet him soon.”

“Might be a bit early for that yet, Em,” he laughs, “but if things go as well as I think they will, that’s definitely on the cards.”

(Five months later, when Spencer finally does meet Emily, she’s as annoying as Derek expects her to be but seeing his boyfriend’s face light up as he gets welcomed in the found family of the BAU is worth every drop of teasing, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.)

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #moreid #moreid fic #moreid writing #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #my writing #moreid fluff #criminal minds fluff #moreid au #criminal minds au #library au

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sierraraeck · 4 years ago

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One More Night

Spencer x GN! Reader

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: Spencer stays in town after the case to try and convince you to give him one more night, and one last chance, to change your mind before marrying another man. Part two.

Category: Fluff with some angst because apparently I can’t write anything without it.

Warnings: Cussing. Quick mention of normal CM stuff. Suggestive content.

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: Inspired by the song “One More Night” by Maroon 5. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral, but if I did not, please let me know what I need to correct.

What you had feared finally happened. The floodgates had opened. Not just opened, but blown apart, letting the roaring water take over, sweeping away everything in its path. Potentially including the nice life you’d just created for yourself.

And to Spencer’s credit, he was very persistent.

You walked away from that hotel room in a mess of tears. Telling the man you’d loved for years that you can’t be with him was an emotional load you were not ready, nor willing, to carry. It took you the entire car ride, the long way home, and two extra loops around your neighborhood before you felt calm enough to go inside and face Jordan.

Jordan.

The endearing, handsome, smart, loving, and appreciative man you were set to marry in just a couple weeks. And now you felt like a terrible person who didn’t deserve him because of this Spencer problem, and your sort of emotional cheating. Not to mention the kiss. Which you let happen. But you did pull away right? You did reality check the situation and you did walk away. That counted for something, right? You chose Jordan.

You pulled into the garage, and with one final deep breath, you walked into your small, but cozy, house. The smell hit your nose before anything else, and you knew before having to enter the kitchen that he was making his famous lasagna and homemade garlic bread. God, he spoiled you sometimes.

“Wow, would you smell that,” you said with an exaggerated breath in, dropping your bag and shoes at the door.

“Atrocious, isn’t it? Good thing I’ve gone noseblind by now,” he turned around as you approached the kitchen, giving you a sweet, welcome home kiss. “You didn’t eat, right? I knew you were going out with that old friend of yours, but I couldn’t remember if that was for food or just - hey, everything okay?”

You tried to hide the slight panic from your voice when replying, “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

He shook his head, “Uh, I mean, your eyes just look a little puffy that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah. It was a bit of a rough day today,” you admitted.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did something happen with that friend of yours?” he questioned.

Yes. “No, not like that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. How was your day?” you asked. He launched into a story about how the new girl at work couldn’t seem to get anything right, and how he questioned if she even actually went to law school or not. You assured him that she’d get better with time. Everything gets better with time. Right?

You let him finish his cooking and the two of you sat down together for dinner, talking about work and friends and then he brought up wedding planning. Which you weren’t really in the mood or mindset for. And to make matters worse, he had to go and get all sweet on you.

“God, I can’t wait to get married. Sometimes I still wake up and can’t believe it’s real. I choose you, for the rest of my life, and I can’t wait until you officially choose me too. I hope you know that,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

He could always make you feel better, even when you didn’t feel you deserved it. “I do know that, and I love you, Jordan. So much.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When you woke up, you felt much happier than you did the night before. Jordan was everything you wanted and more than you could hope for. Spencer was going back across the country to his job, and you were going back to yours.

Or at least, that was the plan.

When you arrived at work, you walked toward your office only to be frantically stopped by one of the interns who was currently under your supervision. “Uh, sorry to bother you, but there’s someone waiting for you in your office.”

“What? I didn’t forget a meeting did I?” you panicked.

“Oh, no, this is just some random guy. He told me he knew you and I couldn’t really stop him from coming in,” she said.

“O-okay. Thank you,” you said, and brushed by her, your curiosity driving you to your office even before you stopped for your morning coffee. You practically threw open the door and froze in your tracks.

That was not just some random guy waiting for you in your office.

“What are you doing here?”

Spencer looked up at you from the chair across your desk that usually seated clients or co-workers. “Sorry for showing up out of the blue. Can we talk? I brought coffee.”

He gave you a small smile and gestured toward the cup sitting on your desk. Can we talk? That’s always a good sign.

You snapped out of the frozen state you’d been in, shutting your office door and crossing the room to sit in your chair. You took a long sip of your coffee under Spencer’s watchful eye. “What can I help you with?” You did everything in your power not to sigh.

“No, nothing like that,” he said, breaking you out of your attorney-client attitude. “I just - I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just looked at him, inviting him to continue. Luckily he did, breaking the silence, “I know that you have something with Jordan-”

“-we’re engaged, yes,” you corrected him. It wasn’t just ‘something.’ It was a serious commitment.

“Right. You and him are engaged, and I know that there isn’t much I can do or say, but I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

“A chance for what?” you questioned. You were confused, and tired of being so considering you thought you’d just passed the only bit of confusion you would experience.

“A chance to change your mind. To make sure that you are making the right decision,” he stated.

Your mouth was hanging open. Is he seriously asking me on a date right now? “Spencer, I am making the right decision. And are you asking me out?”

“I guess so. And if you are making the right decision with Jordan, then this should change nothing. If by the end of it, you feel nothing for me and you know that you want to be with Jordan for the rest of your life, then I did everything I can, and I know you are happy. But if that is not the case, and you still have feelings for me too, then…” he trailed off, followed by a sigh, “All I’m asking is that you give me one more night.”

“You are asking me to cheat on my fiance.”

“No, I am asking you to give me one more night, one more chance, to change your mind.”

He stared at you with intense eyes, searching yours for an answer. You sat there, trying to process everything that was happening, weighing your options. I can’t do this, right? It’ll basically be like going on a date when I’m about to get married. But he did say that if I’m confident in Jordan, which I am, this won’t change anything. And it won’t. If he needs this to know that he did everything he could, to give him some closure, what’s the harm? It won’t do anything except give him some piece of mind. I’ll do this for his benefit. And how bad could just one night be?

“Fine,” you said, and his lips immediately turned up, “I’ll be out of here by six, hopefully.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” he said simply, getting up to head towards the door.

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re meeting?”

“No. It’s a surprise. I’ll pick you up from work?”

You let out another sigh, but tried to cover it with, “Alright.”

He shot you one last smile before exiting your office, and you couldn’t help but return it. But only a little bit.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You were expecting yourself to dread the end of the day, knowing that whatever happened tonight wouldn’t end well, but in spite of yourself, you were actually looking forward to it. The day couldn’t go by fast enough actually, and you were out of the office the moment the clock hit six. You quickly sent Jordan a text explaining that you were very busy with work, and would have to stay late. You felt guilty lying to him. He deserved your honesty, but he also deserved your undivided love and attention, which you knew you couldn’t give him until this was put to rest. Telling him about some stupid little one-time ‘closure’ thing for an old flame before you got married was not what he needed to hear. So you slowly descended the stairs to the lobby, and reminded yourself: This is for Spencer’s benefit, it won’t change my mind, I’m only giving him one more night, and that’s it.

You reached the lobby and looked around for that fluffy head of hair you knew had to be there somewhere. Then you felt a small tap on your right shoulder, and turned in that direction. The moment you noticed no one was there, you knew what was going on. You rolled your eyes as you dramatically turned to your left and huffed, “I hate you.”

“Or so you claim,” Spencer said, beaming. He could always get you with that one, no matter how many times he did it to you. It was infuriating, but somewhat endearing to see his goofy smile every time you fell for it. “You never learn.”

“Yeah, because no other normal person does that to people on a regular basis,” you defended.

“(y/n), when have we ever been normal?” You raised your eyebrows. He had a point.

He ushered you out of the building and toward the parking lot. “Where are we going?”

“I told you. It’s a surprise,” he said, opening up the passenger side door for you.

“Spencer, you don’t have to-”

“I want to. Please, (y/n), let me do this for you.” With that, you got in the car, and surrendered your evening to the whim of Doctor Spencer Reid.

Now, you knew California pretty well. Grew up and lived there your entire life. Yet, somehow, wherever Spencer was taking you was in a direction that was unfamiliar, and what you could grasp at around you didn’t point to some destination spot that you would consider a ‘destination spot.’

Thirty minutes in, and the scenery looked as though you were headed to the woods, which didn’t make sense since that was not at all Spencer’s scene, and it made you realize you were probably inappropriately dressed in your work clothes. You gave Spencer a questioning side eye, and you saw him suppress a smirk. Only a couple minutes later, the trees cleared a bit, revealing a charming little town. And by little, you mean little. Like a total of ten or so establishments little.

Spencer moseyed on over to a white box of a building with a glistening sign reading “California’s Best Italian.” You gave Spencer yet another look when he parked the car, but he still didn’t offer you more than a small smile. As you both got out of the car, you rolled your eyes and skeptically asked, “California’s best Italian, huh?”

“Only the best for you,” he replied. He saw the seriousness in your eyes and assured, “It is vastly underrated, trust me.”

So you did just that, walking into the building with Spencer. The entire dining room, which was surprisingly bigger than you’d imagined from the outside, was empty. The hostess waiting at the front door smiled at the two of you, and led you to an already set table. It had all the classics: white table cloth, candle light, a few roses in the middle, two awaiting glasses of champagne. It was cliche as hell, but nevertheless stunning. As you sat down you realized that, while you’d been on amazing dates with Jordan and they were all adventurous and unconventional, that you’d never had the ‘out-of-the-movies’ dinner date experience.

You were impressed, to say the least, and whispered, “How’d you pull this off?”

“We may or may not have worked a case here a while back. They said we could cash in a favor any time we’d like for helping them. This was mine,” he sheepishly admitted. You did everything you could to not gape at him, but you're sure his trained eye could read you anyway.

“Spencer, seriously you didn’t have to-”

“I know. You keep saying that, but I wanted to,” he reminded you in the same way he did earlier that evening.

The same smiley hostess that met you at the door earlier returned with menus, and there was a twinkle in her eye that made you wonder just what Spencer had told them this was. Not like you’d ever ask. You weren’t even sure you wanted the answer.

You looked over the menu and ordered shrimp fettuccine while Spencer ordered a classic spaghetti.

“Still with the simple classics,” you tutted.

“You can never go wrong with them. Especially spaghetti,” he said, eyes getting wider. You had to let out a slight laugh at his childlike giddiness at something so trivial as spaghetti. But that was just Spencer. Sharing facts and getting happy over the little things. It was kinda refreshing to see, especially considering the dark nature of both of your jobs.

When dinner was served, it smelled amazing. You practically moaned at your first bite, and apologized for underestimating the small diner. You had to agree: they really did have the best Italian food in California.

Conversation with Spencer started a little rocky, the two of you getting reacquainted with each other before it started to flow like you’d never spent time apart. You related on the work front, and talked about friends and co-workers. You laughed about past and present things, and for a moment, you forgot there was a world outside this time-warped one that Spencer had created for the two of you. It was just so natural; you always knew it had been. Your quirks and his quirks complimented each other, and the way you’d both grown into older versions of your nerdy college selves but with somewhat better social skills was almost amusing. You were both entirely invested in your jobs, and you could see just how much he cared about everyone. The families he worked tirelessly for, and those he worked tirelessly with. And you. God, he cared about you so much, it had to have been squeezing his heart into oblivion.

When you both finished your meal and your champagne, Spencer stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, standing up, and gave him a questioning look. Dining and dashing was not in Spencer’s fortey, so without really knowing what to do, you reached for your credit card.

“Oh, no,” the waitress said with a grin, “This was on the house.”

“That’s very sweet, but really I can-” you started, waving your card around.

“No, seriously. Anything for Doctor Reid and his company,” she insisted, still grinning, now accompanied by an eyebrow raise. You returned her smile, trying to hide the slight confusion on your face. Now you really wanted to know what Spencer had told them this was.

“Come on,” Spencer whispered, ushering you out of the restaurant.

Once you exited, you asked, “You really must have saved their asses for them to treat you like that.”

“I may have down played just what happened to this town,” he admitted, “but it’s not that important. Unless you want to hear about it.”

“I could go for a brief synopsis,” you shrugged.

“About a year ago, this town had one of the worst serial killers we’ve ever seen. By the time we got here, there were already six bodies and counting. He moved fast and we found out that his real target was the owner of that restaurant. We saved them with only seconds to spare, and I was the one with the final shot. It’s a family business, so they were all very relieved and grateful we saved their family and their life’s work.” He said it so casually you gaped at him. You knew how modest he could be, but he really couldn’t see how heroic he sounded. He must’ve been uncomfortable by your staring, because he followed with, “What? What is it?”

“Just, you say that like it happens every day.”

“Well, it is my job, so it does kind of happen frequently,” he pointed out.

“Okay, yeah, but not for the everyday person. Those people see you as their knight in shining armor, Spencer. I think you should indulge yourself in that every now and then,” you advised.

“I am no one’s ‘knight and shining armor,’” he replied, shaking his head.

“Don’t be like that,” you scolded, and he looked at you with a serious face, “You catch the bad guy. You can’t get more heroic than that. Plus, you are keeping people from all over the country safe, not to mention keeping me employed.”

He offered a small laugh at that, and continued walking down the road past the car.

“What are you doing? The car’s right here,” you arched an eyebrow.

“I know,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“So we’re walking,” you phrased it more as a statement than a question. You only got a nod in response. “Seriously? You’re still not going to tell me where we’re going, are you?” He just shook his head as his smile grew. “I don’t know why I agreed to this,” you joked.

“Come on, you love surprises,” he said.

“Yeah, because usually I already have a good idea what’s going to happen,” you quipped.

He rolled his eyes. “Then maybe you should have been the profiler.”

You laughed, “Yeah, no. I’m good where I am, thanks. I’ll leave the whole guns, shooting criminals, flying across the country at 2am thing to you.”

“I feel very certain you have your fair share of 2am work nights.”

“Oh I do. I’m just at home sipping coffee in my sweats, not in work clothes on a plane to the middle of nowhere,” you acknowledged, and he put his hands up as to say ‘touche.’ “But hey, the next time I’m up at 2am, I’ll be sure to take comfort in the fact that at least someone else is too, probably going over files just like me.”

“Yeah, that, and that you have better coffee than us,” he said, as you stepped off the main road and in the direction of the trees. You didn’t take Spencer for an ‘outdoorsy’ kinda guy either, in fact, you knew he wasn’t unless things had drastically changed in six years, but you kept your mouth shut. Mainly because you were outdoorsy, and you knew he was trying to make things fun for you. Once you got to a certain point, Spencer stopped and turned to face you. “Close your eyes.” You opened your mouth to protest the ‘surprise’ thing again, but he cut you off before you had the chance. “Trust me, okay?”

Without another word, you closed your eyes with a sigh. He led you slowly through the trees, fingers laced through yours, narrating the landscape to make sure you wouldn’t trip or lose your footing.

“Almost there,” he said, taking a few more paces forward before coming to a complete stop. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

When you did, you were blinded by the beauty before you. There was a half circle of rock surrounding you with a waterfall coming from the opposite side. It hit the sugar-white sand below it, trailing into the small aqua pond, which opened up to the beach from between rocks and palm trees. On top of that, there was a warm sunset turing the wispy clouds shades of reds, oranges, and yellows. It was straight out of a movie, or a dream, and you honestly couldn’t believe it was real.

“What do you think?” Spencer asked in a small voice from beside you, and you realized you hadn’t done anything except gasp since you saw it.

“Spence, this is - this is incredible. You really outdid yourself,” you said, and he had. It was breathtaking. “How’d you find this place?”

“It’s a small town secret, I guess. We found it when we were here.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you found a body here or something,” you grimaced.

“No! Definitely not!” Spencer clarified, “I just remembered you always mentioning wanting to go to a nice, small, secluded beach. This isn’t exactly a beach, but it is very close to one and definitely secluded.” You relaxed even more with that information, and Spencer led you over to the edge of the water, hand still enveloped in yours.

Don’t get carried away. Remember, this is just for his benefit. You released his hand, giving him a small smile, and walked over to the waterfall. He followed, and looked up at it with the same awed look you did. “You know, to qualify as a waterfall, only one segment of the falls must be at least five feet high. Most generally accepted waterfalls must be located on a river, creek, or stream that provides a source of water at least annually. This one is on the shorter side of average height at about 25 feet, and comes off of a stream from above. The largest waterfall in the world is Angel Falls with a total height of 3,212 feet, but plunge falls are known to have taller average heights. This one here is a punchbowl waterfall, because it descends into a constricted form, and then spreads out in a wider pool. Usually-” he suddenly cut himself off, looking down. “Uh, sorry.”

You snapped your eyes over to him, “Have you forgotten who you are talking to?”

“What?”

You repeated yourself, enunciating each word carefully, “Have you forgotten who you are talking to?” Spencer looked up at you, but with no answer. “We initially connected because you could answer every single question I had for you, no matter the subject, whether I needed help with it or not. We finally got to the point where I didn’t even have to ask anymore, because all you had to do was look at my face and know that I needed answers, answers you always had. There’s no need to apologize. You know I enjoy your facts,” you emphasized.

He smiled at you and rambled on about his waterfall facts, finishing with, “... and today, many people enjoy going swimming near or around waterfalls. Especially the punchbowl kind.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Is that an invitation Spencer Reid?”

“It could be if you wanted it to be,” he agreed sheepishly.

“Well, then what are we waiting for,” you teased. You marched over to a dry, flat rock and stripped off your work clothes, only keeping your underwear on. You then waded out into the water, all the while Spencer just watching you, seemingly paralyzed. You encouraged, “Spence, get out here!”

He started to make a move in the same direction you’d left your stuff, saying, “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” He tried to add some enthusiasm to his voice, but you knew he really wasn’t a fan of the water. Or the sand for that matter. Or interacting with nature as much as swimming required. But nevertheless, he discarded his clothes and padded toward the little ‘punchbowl’ as he just educated you on.

And then a thought popped into your head, “Spencer, have you ever been to the beach before? Like, have you gone swimming at the beach?”

His eyes snapped to yours, and he shook his head just a little. “It just usually seems … unsanitary. You know, the average number of people who visit the beach each year is around 58.67 million.”

“Yes, I’m sure, but unfortunately you are not one of them. Yet. Look, I know you kinda hate the water and the beach and stuff, but don’t worry, I am here to help,” you assured. You wadded toward him where the water was only about shin-high and held out your hand. “Do you remember a long time ago when you first told me you’d never been to the beach?”

He nodded. “It was close to one of the first things you asked me.”

“It was. And you told me you hadn’t. And do you remember what I told you?”

“You said, ‘I am determined to be the first person you go to the beach with. I promise I will make your beach-going experience great, and I have a strong feeling you will start to enjoy it.’”

“Exactly. So, are you ready?” you asked.

“For what?” Instead of answering, you slowly coaxed him further into the water. He shivered a bit as the cool water surrounded his hips.

“Don’t worry. You’re body will adjust,” you smiled, even though he probably already had plenty of stats on that, too. He paused for just a second as you got deeper into the water, which caused you to turn and face him completely. He heaved a breath, but then continued, you taking both of his hands in yours, walking backward farther into the water until it was up to your neck. The water pooled around Spencer's shoulders, and you said contently, “See? It’s not too bad, is it?”

“I guess not. Not when you’re here to help me,” he smiled.

You tried to shake off the feelings coursing through your veins, composed yourself, and replied, “Good.” Then, without warning, you dove out into the middle of the water. When you came to the surface, you shook your hair out and had to laugh at the way Spencer was staring at you.

You didn’t even have to prompt him in order for him to understand the playful look in your eyes. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I am not that person.”

You smirked at him, “You are now, Mathlete.”

He rolled his eyes at your old nickname for him, but he pushed farther out into the water. He came all the way out to you, at least somewhat knowing how to tread water, when you brought your wet hands up to his hair. With little droplets of water running down the side of his neck and jaw and your hands still in his hair, he went completely under water. Once he was under, his hands were at your thighs, and a whole new set of feelings clouded into your head. When he came back up, he was only inches from your face, your hands behind his head and his on your back. And then your lips were on each other’s, moving with a mind of their own. He pulled you closer and you clung to him like he was the only thing preventing you from drowning. His tongue slid into your mouth, moving in expert ways only he could remember how to do after this long. You started to wrap your legs around his middle, when you realized you’d probably sink together out in the middle of the pool, thanks to you swimming all the way out there. You finally parted with a big intake of breath, separating slightly so you could both stay afloat.

Before he could say anything, you flipped some water up into his face. He shut his eyes with little amusement, and his pout made him look even cuter. When he opened them, the orange sun near setting reflected into his eyes, making them glow a brilliant gold. He was stunning. Everything about this was stunning.

“What was that for?” he asked, and you snapped out your trance-like state to remember that you’d splashed him with water.

You did it again with a chuckle for an answer. Then he caught on. He pushed water in your direction, and you back to him. You were both shoving water at each other and laughing at your full on water fight, and then you got out and started running from the waterfall and toward the beach only a few yards away. He came after you and grabbed you from behind. You’re not sure how it happened, but you both ended up on the white sand with a shriek. You laid there with your back against his chest, eyes stinging from the salt water and breathing deeply. You both had sand all over you, but you didn’t want to move. And clearly, neither did he, because you both laid there until the sun went down.

Goosebumps rose along your body as Spencer trailed his hands down your arms and side and back again.

“We should get dried off,” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded, “Yeah, it’s getting cold. But we don’t have any towels.”

“They’re in the car.” You smiled to yourself and got up off the beach, trailing Spencer back to the car, clothes in hand.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

On the car ride back to the city, you told Spencer all the other cool beach things you would have wanted to introduce him to, like reading in the sun, drinking and eating under a cabana, and getting these mangos on a stick you could only seem to find in Mexico.

He grinned at you the whole way.

He parked the car outside of his hotel, and offered to let you shower off before leaving. You couldn’t really go home to Jordan with a bunch of sand on you, so you accepted. You got in first and he got in after.

By the time he was done, you were fully dried with your clothes back on. He came out with only a towel wrapped around him. You guessed he really was trying everything to keep you here. The tension was palpable and you didn’t really know what to say to him.

Thanks for the amazing date, I had so much fun, okay bye? You were great and you are making it so hard to walk away right now but I’m going to, thanks anyways? You couldn’t say any of those, but luckily, he stepped in for you.

“I know,” he said with a nod.

“Spencer, I-”

“I know,” he repeated. His eyes were sad and his shoulders were slumped in defeat. It pained you to see him like this, especially after everything he’d done for you that evening, and how happy he’d been the whole time. “It’s okay, I get it. Jordan.”

Jordan. “Yeah,” it was barely a whisper. You walked toward the door and reached for the handle. And then you froze. You just froze in place, not being able to go any further.

Then, without thinking, you turned around and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to his. He seemed thrown by this, but only for a few moments, because he quickly melted into the kiss. You didn’t let it last long, pulling away without another look at him. He grabbed your hand and spun you around, giving you no choice but to raise your eyes to meet his. They looked a little red and a single tear ran down his cheek.

“Please. Don’t leave me, not again,” he begged. You were in agony even thinking about leaving him like this, but what else were you supposed to do? “Please don’t go (y/n).”

You didn’t know how to say no when he was at his lowest point and you were at your weakest. That’s not true. You did know how to say no, but not to him. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to. “I won’t.”

It was already too late by the time you realized you had fallen back in love with him.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You woke up on Spencer’s chest, sheets a tangled mess around you. The daylight hit your eyes through the crack in the hotel curtains, and you realized what you’d just done.

I slept with another man. A man that is not my fiance, a man that I am not going to marry in a couple weeks. What have I done? What was I thinking?

But that’s the issue. You weren’t thinking. Being with Spencer didn’t require any thinking or effort or worry. It was easy. Yet nothing about waking up that morning with the guilt you felt was easy. You couldn’t stay there with Spencer for another moment knowing that you had to be the worst person on the planet at the moment. You threw your clothes on, trying to control your panicked breathing, swiping at the moisture collecting on your cheeks.

What was I thinking?

You scrambled to the door, making sure you had all of your belongings, and left. You made your way down the corridor to the sign that said ‘stairs’ across from a little sitting area near a large window.

You had barely gotten the door open when a voice called out, “Where are you going?”

You turned and saw Spencer frantically coming towards you. The noise you made in your rush to leave must have woken him up. “One more night, right? That was the deal,” you stated coldly.

“That's not really all this was to you, was it?” he asked, his eyes looked at you with a mix of emotions you could only guess to be betrayal and hurt.

But you stood your ground, “This is wrong.”

He started shaking his head, “No-”

“I have to go,” you insisted, turning back to the door.

“It’s not wrong (y/n). You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me that what we have doesn’t feel right to you,” he pressed. There was an urgency in his voice you’d never really heard before.

“Jordan’s probably waiting for me.”

“Is he?”

How dare he question my fiance he knows nothing about! “Yes,” you spat, “because he’s an amazing man that I am going to marry, so I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”

“That’s not really what you’re thinking is it,” he hissed back, stating it more than asking. You stood there staring at him, not giving him an answer. You knew you couldn’t lie to him. Profiler or not, he always knew what you were thinking. He continued, “Actually, I don’t even think you think this is wrong.”

“Yes I do. It’s not fair-” you tried.

“Who’re you trying to convince?” Spencer cut you off.

You laced your voice with venom when you responded, “Don’t presume to know me or what I think.”

“Oh I’m not. You’re telling me that all by yourself,” he said as he quickly scanned you up and down.

“Don’t profile me.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I was merely trying to point out how, while even though you are trying to leave, you are oriented toward me. Your feet are still pointed towards me, along with your shoulders. If you really wanted to leave, you’d be facing the door. Your head is tilted slightly, you’re leaning forward, and despite your irritation, you aren’t fidgety. You’ve subconsciously mirrored some of my movements, fixed your hair, adjusted the sleeves on your shirt, and wetted your lips. Not to mention the dilation of your eyes-”

You couldn’t take it anymore, “Why, why are you pushing this?” It sounded more like a plea than anything.

His eyes softened along with his voice, “Because I want you. I want to be with you, and I can’t let you slip through my fingers like last time. I am not going to make the same mistakes and I am not going to let my insecurities and uncertainties get in the way of us again.”

“Us?” your eyes bugging, “Spencer, there is no us.”

“How can you say that?” his voice seemed to raise an entire octave.

“Because there can’t be. I’m getting married in just over a week and I haven’t seen you in years, and then all the sudden you wanna give us another try? It didn’t work out the first time, what makes you think it will the second time?” you pressed.

“What makes you think it won't?”

“Don’t turn this on me.” You didn’t want him to avoid the question. It was a valid one, and one you’d always thought about when you heard of other on-and-off couples.

“We dated for about six years and never had any problems until I fucked it up. Had I stayed in contact, we’d probably still be together right now. Your turn,” he challenged, with fire in his eyes.

Fine. We can do it like this. “For starters, we are both stubborn and like to argue. We’ve seen and spent time together for a total of one day and two nights and we’ve already argued twice. Not to mention, we both have super time consuming jobs-”

“Which both you and Jordan do,” he interjected.

“-and we’ve both changed. We don’t know if we’re compatible anymore. Yes, we dated for six years, but then we spent six years apart. You can’t ask me to throw away a sure thing for a relationship I lost hope in a long time ago.”

“I can, and I am.” He said it with such confidence, it almost threw you off. Almost.

“It’s too late.”

“It’s not, please, don’t go. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t let your insecurities and uncertainties about us get in the way of what we have,” he faltered.

“And what is it we have exactly?” It was his turn to be silent, so you filled in for him. “With Jordan, I have no doubts. There is nothing complicated about him or what he and I have.”

“But do you love him like you loved me? Does he make you laugh after a long day at work? Does he go dancing with you even though he’s bad at it because he knows you love it? Does he know when to just sit there and hold you and when to encourage you to vent? Does he know that you are a morning person and love watching the sun rise even though you refuse to talk to anyone when you’ve just woken up? Does he burn the pancakes in the morning so that you can laugh and show him how it’s done? Does he know that after a bad day you like to eat breakfast for dinner because it’s your comfort food? And even though you’d never admit it, you secretly love those fake colored orchids? Does he make sure you rest when you overwork yourself so you don’t get a migraine? Does he know that you aren’t ticklish anywhere except on your left side? And can you tell him any and everything? Does he know that the only thing you hate more than stress is injustice? Can he make you feel as comfortable and stress free as I do? Can he give you that? Because I can, I know I can.”

“Spencer, stop.” You crossed your arms, desperate for him to relieve you from the guilt you already felt. How could you walk away from him? But how could you not?

But he wouldn’t stop, “I have. And I’m asking for another chance to give you that again, to show you that I will for as long as you let me.”

You offered one simple word in response, “Love.”

“What?” the confusion was obvious on his face.

“You said ‘like you loved me’. Love, Spencer. It’s not past tense,” you corrected.

That stopped him dead in his tracks, “What’re you saying?”

You took a deep breath, “I’m saying that you have given me a lot to think about, and that I need time. I know I don’t have much, but I need tonight, at least tonight. Can you give me that?”

“Yes,” he said, with no hesitation, “Of course.” You nodded, and turned back toward the staircase door as Spencer retreated, but he caught your attention one last time before you were out of earshot. “Oh, and (y/n)?”

“Yeah?” you said, peering over your shoulder.

“I love you too.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You spent that night and the entire day following away from everyone. Jordan texted you to make sure you were okay, making a joke about getting cold feet. Which was not funny. You told him that you’d been slammed at work and were crashing at a co-worker, and close friend's apartment, which happened often. You two were looking over a case together, which was true, but in reality, you were sulking and they were very invested in your love life.

“‘But do you love him like you loved me?’ That’s very forward of him,” Ash spoke, taking a sip of their tea.

“You don’t need to tell me that,” you reminded them.

“But like, you said you love him,” Ash beamed. “Then again, you have Jordan to think about, too.”

“Okay, first, I’m concerned that you are taking so much pleasure in my very complicated love life-”

“If by complicated you mean having two great guys pining over you, then sure. Extremely unfortunate,” Ash deadpanned.

You continued as if they hadn’t spoke, “-secondly, I didn’t exactly say I love you-”

“Still counts.”

“-and third, what am I supposed to do? I have a ring on my finger and I just slept with another man.”

“Another man that was your first love that you also said ‘I love you’ to,” Ash again pointed out.

“Please stop reminding me,” you groaned.

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“Because I am freaking out and don’t know what to do! I can’t pretend like what happened with Spencer never happened, but I don’t think I can face Jordan, or tell him what happened, let alone marry him after all of this,” you exclaimed, voice raising.

“Okay, I know this is stressful, but I need you to sit down, and calm down,” Ash sterly said, dropping all amusement from their voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d stood up. You eased yourself back onto the couch, and looked over at them.

You took a deep breath, “You’re right. Freaking out is not going to help me. Not like I know what actually will.”

“Well let me ask you this,” Ash said, sitting upright, “Was he right?”

“What?”

“Was Spencer right? Does he give you things Jordan can’t? Does he make you feel more ‘at peace’ or however the hell he phrased it?” You opened your mouth to answer, but they cut you off right as you were about to speak, “And don’t lie. This is me trying to help you through your feelings, and telling me what you think is socially acceptable to say is not going to help anyone. Especially not you.”

“In a sense,” you relented.

“Okay, I guess I wasn’t clear. These are yes or no questions,” they clarified.

“How can they be? Relationships are not black and white, there is so much more to them!” you huffed.

“That’s true. But what is black and white is who you love more.” You started shaking your head profusely in denial. “I’m serious (y/n). You know you love one more than you love the other. You know who you feel more comfortable and more safe around. You know who you feel like you can trust with anything without being judged. And most importantly, you know who you feel the most like yourself around, and who makes you feel like the best and brightest version of yourself. You just aren’t ready to admit that, because either way, you’re hurt and they’re hurt. But don’t lie to yourself. You know,” Ash insisted.

“Ash, I can’t,” you whispered.

“You can, you will, and you have to. Just remember it’s not fair to either of them for you to string them along. It’s better to tell them. You have to just go for it,” they urged.

You groaned. “What do I even say? How am I supposed to do this?”

“Well, you are going to pull on your grown ass adult undies, and figure it out,” Ash spoke to you like you were a child, “Now get the fuck outta my place, you’ve been here far too long and have overstayed your welcome. And don’t you dare lie to them either because you think it’s the right thing to do. For once in your goddamn life (y/l/n), do the right thing for you.” And with that, they shoved you out of their apartment with your things, and locked the door in your face.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

You got in your car and threw your things in the back. You sat there for a moment before screaming at the top of your lungs. You pounded on and shook the steering wheel, until you’d run out of breath.

Being in love with two men who loved you back at the exact same time was nothing like it was portrayed in the movies. It absolutely sucked. You couldn’t see how there was any possible way that the people in those movies ended up with a happy, fairy-tale ending, because all you could see right now was broken hearts. You were going to be hurting either way, but the real question was which way you were going to hurt the least.

Which is the exact thought on your mind as you pulled your car out of the apartment complex parking lot, and started driving.

For once in your goddamn life, do the right thing for you.

You were already halfway to your destination before you’d consciously made the decision to go there. You pulled up and parked your car outside. You walked up the stairs to the door and then stopped. Knocking on this door meant committing to a decision that would alter the rest of your life. You bit back the tears threatening to overflow, sure that you had made the right decision, even though it physically pained you to hurt him. You took a deep breath, put a smile on your face, and knocked.

The door swung open as if he’d been expecting you. You quickly embraced him, taking in his scent and basking in the comfort of his arms. Pulling away, you looked into those twinkling eyes staring back at you with adoration, which only confirmed that you’d made the right decision.

With a pounding heart and a weight lifted off your shoulders, you confessed, “I choose you.”

Payphone

A/N 2: To the lovely anon that encouraged me to do a part 2, I hope this lived up to your expectations. I know I didn’t completely clear everything up, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. =D

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #gn reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #criminal minds fandom #dr spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #reid #dr reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst

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