At the same time, I wanna hug you
(...I wanna wrap my hands around your neck)
seungmin x reader!! enemies to lovers troupe!! genre; fluff. word count: 10.7k (long but still not enough)
summary; if you have teleportation powers you would bring seungmin in the middle of ocean and dump him there. that's how much you hated him. but wait.. why he was suddenly cool?
an: you dont know how much i went crazy seeing seungmin in uniform! like babe! why are my classmate not like him? and.. this was a birthday present cause this man just turn half 50 minus 1!! anyways enjoy reading
Kim Seungmin.
You hated that very name.
You hated his existence.
You hated his smirk.
You hated that he breathes.
You hated how he never failed to make your blood boil.
Like now.
You were practically crawling into the classroom, late again, knowing full well the teacher wasn’t going to let it slide this time. Slowly and quietly, you slipped through the back door, hoping to go unnoticed, but your hopes were dashed when Kim Seungmin turned in his seat and caught your eye. His face slowly morphed into that all-too-familiar smirk.
You already knew your fate.
"Ma'am, someone’s late again."
You clenched your fists, resisting the urge to punch him as the teacher ordered you to stand and endure a scolding. You stood there, bowing your head like a guilty child while Seungmin chuckled at your misery.
You hated him. You hated him so much you wished for teleportation powers—just so you could dump him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and teleport back home.
The worst part? You were seatmates. In the one subject that made you contemplate dropping the class every week just to escape him. But no, you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You’d endure, just so he wouldn’t win.
"Why were you late again?" he leaned over, asking in the most casual, condescending way possible.
“None of your business,” you rolled your eyes and shifted your chair further away from him.
“Actually, it is my business.” He smirked again, lifting the attendance sheet. “I’m in charge of marking who’s here today, and guess what? I don’t see your name yet. Got a good excuse for me?”
Damn.
You glared at him, wishing your stare could send him straight to the hospital. “I hate you.”
“Oh, I love you too,” he teased, laughing at your frustration.
--
You were minding your own business, erasing the board, when out of nowhere, a crumpled piece of paper hit you square on the head. Annoyed, you turned sharply, searching for the culprit. Your eyes quickly landed on Kim Seungmin, who very obviously averted his gaze and started whistling—like that wasn’t the biggest giveaway ever.
Glaring at him, you felt your temper rise. Without thinking twice, you grabbed the nearest weapon of choice—the chalkboard eraser—and hurled it with full force.
"Hey—!" Seungmin barely had time to react, his hands flying up to shield himself. The eraser still hit him, sending a cloud of chalk dust everywhere.
Minutes later, there he was, sitting in the clinic, sulking like he’d been gravely injured. You stood over him, arms crossed, rolling your eyes at the ridiculous situation.
“You’re such a kid,” you teased, watching as he winced dramatically. “Crying over a tiny little scratch.”
He glared at you, clutching his arm like he’d survived a battle. “Tiny? You nearly broke my arm!”
You smirked, “If I wanted to break your arm, Seungmin, I wouldn’t have used an eraser.”
You and Seungmin fought like kids, constantly bickering and annoying each other to the point where even your classmates didn’t bother stepping in anymore. They’d seen you two nearly throw punches at each other too many times to care.
One day in the cafeteria, you were finally enjoying a moment of peace, savoring your lunch, when Seungmin suddenly plopped down in front of you. He smiled, but there was something odd about it. Well, Seungmin was always odd, but this felt extra weird. He wasn’t even touching his food; he just sat there, staring at you.
"What are you looking at, ugly?" you asked, scowling.
He leaned back casually. "My friends are coming, and we're sitting at this table. It’s up to you if you wanna leave or not."
You blinked, taken aback. "What?! I got here first!"
"Yeah, well," he shrugged nonchalantly, "I don’t care."
Before you could argue further, the cafeteria exploded with noise. His friends had arrived—there was no mistaking it. They were loud, famous, and had an almost cult-like following at school. You could practically hear the high-pitched squeals from the “fandom” as they entered. Without even turning around, you knew it was them.
Your frustration mounted as they surrounded the table, chattering loudly. You weren’t exactly fond of crowds, for that matter. Sitting there, sandwiched between Seungmin and his friends, you felt like a deer caught in headlights.
Hyunjin—yes, that Hyunjin—suddenly leaned over, flashing a bright smile. "Hey, what’s your name?"
You nearly choked on your food. Of course, the universe had to pick this moment to be cruel. Before you could respond, Seungmin cut in with a smug grin.
"She’s no one. Don’t mind her," he said, not even sparing you a glance.
Your face flushed with embarrassment and annoyance. You stood up abruptly, knocking over your chair. "I’ve suddenly lost my appetite," you muttered awkwardly before storming off, desperately trying to escape the humiliation.
Why does this always happen to me? you groaned internally. I hate Seungmin. And I hate myself for embarrassing myself in front of my crush… Hyunjin.
If I see that KIM SEUNGMIN later, I’m going to kill him.
Later in class, your chance for revenge came. Seungmin was called on for an oral recitation, and—poetic justice—he stood there, stuttering and completely clueless. You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath as he floundered, finally getting a taste of the embarrassment he loved dishing out.
Justice had never tasted so sweet.
---
"I hope lightning strikes him," you muttered, glaring at Seungmin from a distance as you hugged yourself, shivering from the cold. You were stuck in a waiting shed, the afternoon bringing with it a torrential downpour that looked like the start of a typhoon. The weather had been perfect this morning—sunny, with not a cloud in sight. You'd made the mistake of leaving your umbrella at home, thinking it would only weigh down your bag. Now, you regretted every bit of that decision.
Across the street, Seungmin stood dry under his big, obnoxiously bright umbrella, almost laughing as he caught sight of you. His smug grin was practically glowing, and as if to rub salt in the wound, he waved at you.
You flipped him the finger.
‘When will his time come?’ you wondered bitterly. Why am I always the one who ends up miserable?
The shed's roof was doing a terrible job of keeping the rain out. Water dripped from all angles, splashing around you and soaking your clothes. You glanced up at the leaky ceiling and groaned. When will this stop? you thought—both about the rain and Seungmin.
If the two of you were friends, and if he weren’t the spawn of Lucifer himself, you might’ve swallowed your pride and asked to share his umbrella. Your house was literally just a block away. But no! You would not—under any circumstances—lower yourself to envy his dry, smug self.
You would never give him the satisfaction. Even if it meant sitting here the whole night, soaked and miserable.
Seungmin started walking toward you, his big umbrella swaying with each step. He stopped in front of you with the most annoyingly sarcastic smile.
"You wanna share?" he asked, eyes twinkling with amusement.
You rolled your eyes. "No thanks."
"You sure? The news said the rain’s stopping… tomorrow."
"Even if it never stops for a whole week, Kim Seungmin, I would never!" you snapped, glaring at him.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your misery. "You sure? Last chance."
"Yes!" you practically shouted, arms crossed in defiance.
"Okay." He shrugged, stepping back. "One word is enough for me."
And with that, he turned on his heel and continued on his way, leaving you alone in the rain.
"I won’t regret it!" you yelled after him, though your voice sounded far less confident than before.
Ten minutes later, you were drenched and shivering, cursing under your breath. Regret started to creep in. You glanced down the road—completely empty. Not a single taxi in sight.
"Where are all the taxis when I need them?" you groaned, looking up at the dark, stormy sky.
And so, your day ended just as it began: with Seungmin somehow managing to ruin it.
--
It was Friday, and your first class of the day happened to be the one where your seatmate was none other than him.
Determined not to be late, you arrived twenty minutes early. The classroom was nearly empty, with only a handful of students scattered around. Feeling groggy, you slumped over your desk, letting the quiet atmosphere lull you into a light nap.
Of course, peace never lasted long when Seungmin was involved.
A sharp knock on your desk pulled you from the brink of sleep. You cracked one eye open to see Seungmin settling into the seat beside you, a smug grin already plastered on his face.
"Oh, you’re early today. Were you looking forward to sitting next to me?" he teased, leaning back comfortably as if he hadn't just ruined your peaceful moment.
"It’s still early, Kim Seungmin," you muttered, closing your eyes again. Not today, you thought. You weren’t going to let him ruin your morning. Not this early.
He glanced at his watch with a chuckle. "Well, it’s 10 a.m., and that’s not exactly early, is it?"
"Seungmin, if you’re bored and looking to annoy someone, talk to my hand." Without even opening your eyes, you lazily raised your hand in his direction, palm out.
Just then, Yuna, who sat in front of you, arrived. She took one look at the two of you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Why are you guys always fighting the moment you see each other?"
You opened one eye, giving her a pleading look. "Can you please let him annoy you instead?"
Yuna just laughed. "Oh, Seungmin wouldn’t annoy anyone else but you." She gave you a knowing smile. "He likes you."
Your eyes shot open at her words, and you squinted at Seungmin, who was now smirking as if he knew exactly how to get under your skin. "Yeah, likes to annoy me," you huffed, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.
Seungmin shrugged, leaning in a little closer just to provoke you. "Well, yeah, I like it sooo much," he laughed, clearly amused by your reaction.
Yuna, now used to your bickering, just shrugged and turned her attention to the front of the classroom, leaving you to deal with him.
You let out a sigh, hoping that Seungmin would leave you alone for at least a minute. "Is there any chance you’ll be quiet today?"
He pretended to think for a moment. "Hmm, nope."
You groaned, dropping your head back onto your desk. "Why do you even sit next to me?"
"Fate," he said casually, glancing over as if he hadn’t just said the most ridiculous thing ever.
You shot him a disbelieving look. "What?"
"It’s fate," he repeated with a smirk. "Out of all the seats in this entire classroom, I ended up next to you. Don’t you think that means something?"
"Yeah, it means I’m cursed."
He laughed, the sound annoyingly cheerful, and leaned in closer. "Maybe, or maybe you’re just lucky to have me next to you."
"Lucky isn’t the word I’d use."
Before he could respond, the classroom started filling up, and the teacher finally arrived. You sent a silent prayer of thanks, hoping class would be a break from Seungmin’s endless teasing.
“…you will do this assignment by pairs. To speed things up, partner with your seatmate.”
It was nothing new to be stuck with your enemy, but when you realized that the activity involved a short roleplay drama, you felt a surge of panic. Acting alongside him was nowhere on your bucket list of things to do—if you even had a bucket list.
“Maam, can I exchange my partner?” you raised your hand, desperation evident in your voice.
“Ouch, you hurt my feelings!” Seungmin clutched his chest dramatically, feigning offense.
“What’s wrong with your partner?” the teacher asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sometimes you wondered why everyone seemed to love this annoying dog sitting next to you.
With no choice left, you begrudgingly held the script with a scowl. When would you ever have a peaceful day in class? Why did you have to pretend to be in love with this guy?
“Come on, read your line!” Seungmin demanded, his annoyance bubbling over.
Of all the choices in your teacher's fishbowl, you’d drawn the romantic scene everyone praying not to get. You would have preferred a horror script over this.
“I don’t want to!” you protested, crossing your arms defiantly.
“Well, you have to! It’s your fault for picking it!” he shot back, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“I told you to pick it!” you replied, frustration mounting.
“And then I’d be the one to blame? We don’t have a choice but to do well.” He leaned back, crossing his arms smugly.
“Ugh! I hate you so much!” you exclaimed, slumping back in your seat.
“Well, you have to love me now.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying your misery.
“What did I do in my past life to deserve this?” You groaned, reading the lines again.
“Probably killed someone,” he quipped, shooting you a knowing look.
You glared at him, and he immediately raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing.
“Oh, apologies. Let’s practice! You don’t have a choice; it’s either fail or just accept it.”
“I hate you.”
“I accept it, Juliet.” He grinned, clearly relishing your frustration.
Thankfully, the teacher had given you a week to prepare, which meant you never took practicing seriously after that.
“We’ll practice tomorrow,” Seungmin stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“I have something to do tomorrow,” you said nonchalantly, hoping to deter him.
“I have things too, but I want good grades, so you have to come.” He started packing his things away.
“Hey, Seungmin!” You both turned at the sound of his friend’s voice. It was Hyunjin, accompanied by Felix and Jisung. You straightened up, suddenly conscious of your appearance.
“Let’s go somewhere!” Jisung draped an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders.
“I have important things to do,” Seungmin replied, and Jisung pouted in response.
“Oh, it was you in the cafeteria the other day,” Hyunjin said, looking right at you. It took you a moment to process that he was talking to you.
“Um…” Your voice faltered. “Yes?”
Hyunjin smiled at you, and you felt your heart race.
“Guys, wait for me outside. You just sneaked into my classroom,” Seungmin laughed, and his friends complied, heading for the door.
You were still catching your breath from the interaction when Seungmin turned back, grinning at you. “So, Hyunjin is your crush?” he asked, his tone teasing.
Oh no! Seungmin had caught on!
“Of course, I’m not!” you blurted out, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“Why are you saying ‘I’m not’ in such an awkward way?” He laughed, clearly enjoying this new revelation. “Then it is true!”
“Please don’t tell him!” You pleaded, realizing you were losing this battle.
“Of course I won’t…” He smiled coyly, “…I won’t do what you ask.” Then, with a laugh, he tossed his bag over his shoulder and dashed out the door.
“Oh, damn…” You froze in your seat, panic setting in.
“See you at practice tomorrow!” Seungmin waved annoyingly from the doorway, clearly aware that you had no choice but to comply.
As the door swung shut behind him, you sank back into your chair, contemplating your fate. Tomorrow was going to be a nightmare.
--
You arrived at his house and rang the doorbell repeatedly, knowing he would probably just hear it and take his sweet time.
“You’re late,” he said with a smug smile when he finally opened the gate.
“I’m not,” you insisted, holding your wrist up to show him your watch, the sleek silver face gleaming in the sunlight.
“You’re late by 58 seconds,” he replied, crossing his arms as if he were judging your punctuality.
“What?! It’s not my fault you opened your gate late!” You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
He chuckled at your annoyed expression, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Come in.”
“Not like I have a choice,” you muttered, stepping inside.
It was your first time in his house, and you weren’t surprised by how nice it was. The exterior was already immaculate, and the inside was just as polished—walls adorned with family photos and art that hinted at a cozy atmosphere. But you would never admit that to him.
“My parents aren’t home; they have work,” he said, glancing around the living room as if to check for any potential chaos.
“No one asked,” you shot back, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement.
“Just wanted to let you know in case you try to kill me; there’s a CCTV camera around,” he said, half-serious.
“Oh, great. Just what I need,” you replied dryly, shaking your head.
He headed to the kitchen, presumably to get something to drink, giving you a moment to explore. You took the chance to glance at the pictures displayed throughout the room. One photo caught your eye—him as a child, beaming with joy as he played in a park.
When he returned, you pointed to the picture near the TV. “Is that you?”
“Obviously,” he said, rolling his eyes, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.
You squinted at the picture, then turned to him, suddenly serious. “I mean… will there ever be a time for us to stop bickering, even just for a bit? I'm trying to start a normal conversation here”
“Will there be?” he countered, sitting beside you with a teasing grin, his body relaxed as he leaned back.
“Yeah, right. Never,” you replied, smirking despite yourself.
He handed you the printed script he’d prepared, the edges slightly crinkled. “Why are we putting so much effort into this? It’s just reading the script, not really acting it out.”
“Because I have a goal grade, unlike you,” he said matter-of-factly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Have you forgotten I’m an achiever too?” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly.
When would this bickering ever end?
“Hyunjin is coming,” he announced suddenly, the air in the room shifting.
“No one asked--” You paused, then asked, “Wait what?!”
“So you should behave if you don’t want to scare him off,” he added, the grin still plastered on his face.
“Seungmin, why would you do that?!” You lightly slapped him on the shoulder, half-exasperated, half-amused.
“Because… I can?” He laughed, shielding himself playfully. “I mean, what’s wrong with inviting a friend? He's good at acting he can help”
“I hate you so much,” you groaned, exasperation creeping into your tone.
Hyunjin had been your crush for as long as you could remember, and the thought of him being in the same space as you made your stomach flutter with nerves. He was perfect in every way—charismatic, charming, and completely out of your league.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Seungmin teased, leaning closer with that infuriating grin. “Oh, I forgot—you like him, right?”
You responded by giving him another light shove, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. It was always like this between you two—endless banter, lighthearted teasing, but the presence of Hyunjin added a layer of awkwardness you couldn’t quite shake.
You both settled onto the couch, the printed script between you. Seungmin glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Okay, let’s get this over with. You read Juliet’s lines, and I’ll read Romeo’s,” he said, smirking.
“Fine, but don’t mess it up,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure.
You started reading through the script, your voice steady but laced with a hint of nervousness. “O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear.”
Seungmin rolled his eyes dramatically. “Wow, so poetic. Just make sure you don’t faint from all that romance.”
You shot him a glare. “Shut up, Romeo.”
Just then, the doorbell rang. Your heart raced. Hyunjin was here.
“See? You should behave,” Seungmin teased, nudging your shoulder.
You threw him a playful glare, then he rushed to open the door. There stood Hyunjin, looking effortlessly cool, his smile warm as he greeted you both. “Hey! Ready to practice?”
“Uh, yeah! Come in!” you said, trying to keep your cool but feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.
Seungmin sauntered over, clearly relishing the moment. “Hyunjin! Glad you could join us! We were just getting to the juicy parts.”
You shot him a warning look, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass you. Hyunjin, however, seemed unfazed. “Nice! I can help you both with the romantic scenes if you want.”
You nodded eagerly. “That would be great! I need help with… you know, acting like I’m in love.” You winced at how obvious that sounded.
Hyunjin grinned, moving to sit across from you. “Alright, let’s try a scene. Here’s the famous balcony part. Juliet says, ‘O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again.’”
You felt your heart flutter. “I’ll try,” you said, taking a deep breath. “O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again!”
Hyunjin smiled, then gestured for you to continue. “And then Romeo responds with, ‘I would not for the world they saw thee here.’”
Seungmin picked up the line, and you both began to read, the atmosphere shifting as you focused on the scene. You felt a playful energy in the air, the tension of performing lifting your spirits.
“‘I would not for the world they saw thee here,’” Seungmin said, his voice low and earnest.
You replied, “Then there’s no need to be ashamed,” trying to put as much emotion into it as possible.
Hyunjin clapped after your line. “That was great! You both looked really good together!”
You and Seungmin exchanged a quick look. “No!” you both said in unison.
Hyunjin chuckled, clearly entertained by your synchronized denial. “Really, it’s just acting! But seriously, you guys have good chemistry.”
“Thanks!” you said, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride.
“Alright, let’s keep practicing!” Hyunjin suggested, eager to dive back into the script.
You focused on the lines, the playful banter keeping the atmosphere light. As you practiced, you couldn’t help but enjoy the moment, the camaraderie making the task feel less like a chore and more like fun.
With Hyunjin guiding you, you felt more confident as you delivered your lines, ready to tackle the performance together.
--
The days passed in a blur as you and Seungmin practiced again at his house. You settled into a routine, the playful banter punctuating your rehearsals, and surprisingly, you started to enjoy the time spent together.
Finally, the day of the presentation arrived. As you stood in front of the class, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. When it was your turn to deliver your lines, you poured your heart into the performance, channeling every emotion.
To your surprise, Yuna leaned over after the presentation and whispered, “It wasn’t like you were entering each other’s nerves at all!” Her compliment made you beam with pride.
Seungmin, too, impressed you with his serious demeanor. For once, he seemed genuinely focused, and seeing him so dedicated made you realize how much he cared about doing well. You couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for both of you.
After the applause died down, your teacher announced, “I’m pleased to inform you all that I have chosen actors for the upcoming school play, and I choose…” She paused dramatically, glancing between you and Seungmin, “…you two!”
A wave of excitement surged through you, quickly followed by a burst of playful competitiveness. “See? You should thank me for picking a role that suits us both,” you teased, nudging him playfully.
Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I’m grateful, alright. I forgot for a moment how you despise your pick. In fact, I’m so happy I’m going to treat you to cake and coffee.”
“Yes!” you replied enthusiastically, unable to hide your grin. “I deserve a treat after all that hard work!”
“Sure, but only because I can’t let my scene partner go hungry,” he said, winking.
As you both headed out, the bickering continued, light-hearted and familiar, but beneath it was a shared joy that made the moment all the more special. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this experience was bringing you closer, even if you would never admit it.
At the café, the atmosphere buzzed with chatter and the rich aroma of coffee. You and Seungmin settled into a cozy corner, the tension from earlier melted away as you both began to chat more easily.
“So, do you actually love acting?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Absolutely!” you replied, a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve always idolized Emma Watson. I mean, come on, I look just like her!” You struck a dramatic pose, fluttering your eyelashes.
Seungmin looked at you, clearly unconvinced, with a “Are you kidding me?” expression. You burst out laughing, the sound ringing through the café.
“Okay, maybe not exactly like her,” you admitted, trying to catch your breath. “But a girl can dream, right?”
“Sure, if dreaming means torturing the rest of us,” he shot back with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I’m planning to major in acting when I get to college. It’s my dream!”
“Nice! I like acting too, but I’m thinking about majoring in music,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
“Wait, you? You know how to sing?” You raised an eyebrow, unable to hide your skepticism.
“Wanna hear?” he challenged, a playful glint in his eye.
“Please no!” you teased, dramatically placing your hand on your heart. “I’d rather sleep forever than listen to your singing.”
Seungmin laughed, shaking his head. “You’re so mean! I think it would be the opposite”
“Mean? I’m just saving you from embarrassment,” you shot back with a grin. “You should thank me!”
"you'll regret what you're saying when I become famous."
As you exchanged playful banter, you realized that this was your way of connecting. The teasing and light insults had become second nature, and somehow, the hurtful words didn’t sting anymore. Instead, they felt like an essential part of your friendship, a comfortable rhythm that made you both laugh.
“Seriously though,” you said, softening a bit, “I think it’s awesome that you’re into music. We’ll be the dynamic duo of arts!”
“Absolutely! Just don’t expect me to duet with you anytime soon,” he joked, raising his cup in a mock toast.
“Deal!” you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in a long time.
--
As the practice for the play approached, your schedule became packed, leaving little time for anything else. Excitement bubbled inside you, especially since Hyunjin, a year ahead of you, was also in the cast. You could hardly wait for the next rehearsal.
One day, while waiting for practice to start, you found yourself lost in thought, staring at Hyunjin as he chatted with some friends. Seungmin, ever the observant one, caught you in the act.
“You look like a lovesick puppy,” he teased, a playful grin stretching across his face.
You quickly snapped out of your daydream, narrowing your eyes at him. “Shut up! I’m not!” You playfully punched his arm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your point.
“Uh-huh, sure,” he laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction.
“You’re just jealous that I’m not staring at you like that!”
As partners playing lovers in the play, you often imagined being paired with Hyunjin. But the teacher had chosen Seungmin, and surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as you expected. You’d gotten used to the banter, and the awkwardness faded as practice continued.
Days passed, filled with rehearsals that drew you closer to Seungmin. The bickering remained, a constant source of amusement.
During one practice, while the two of you were warming up, Seungmin leaned over to Hyunjin, a mischievous smile on his face. “Hyunjin, have you already eaten? This monkey here asks,” he said, pointing at you as if you were some sort of pet.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “I am! Thank you for asking!” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Yeah, and she also said you were handsome,” Seungmin added, clearly enjoying the moment.
You felt your cheeks flush, and in a mock fit of outrage, you dashed toward him. “Seungmin!” you yelled, but he was quicker. He took off running, his laughter echoing through the practice room.
When you finally caught up to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a playful hug, making him squirm. “You’re such a tormentor!” you laughed, shaking him lightly.
From across the room, Hyunjin watched the whole scene unfold, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you sure they hate each other?” asked the director, who was shaking his head in disbelief.
Hyunjin just nodded, clearly entertained. “Definitely yes!” he replied, chuckling at your playful dynamic.
As you and Seungmin continued to tease each other, you realized that despite the playful bickering, there was an undeniable comfort between you—something that made every rehearsal just a little bit brighter.
---
The rain poured down in relentless sheets, and there you were, standing under a shed, glaring at the gray sky as if it were personally responsible for your soaked shoes. You had forgotten your umbrella—again.
As you waited, shivering slightly from the cold, you spotted Seungmin in the distance, standing confidently under a bright yellow umbrella. He was teasingly waving it over his head, a smirk plastered on his face as he called out, “Looks like someone forgot their umbrella again!”
You rolled your eyes and shot him a finger. “Very funny, Seungmin!”
He sauntered over, his grin widening with each step. "You wanna share?"
You rolled your eyes. "No thanks." you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.
“Okay, then. One word is enough for me.” He turned to leave, an exaggerated pout on his lips.
You hesitated for a moment, watching him walk away. “Wait!” you called out, and he turned back, an annoying smile in his lips. “Fine! We can share!”
Seungmin’s face broke into a triumphant grin as he rushed back to your side, positioning the umbrella over both of you. As you walked together, the atmosphere shifted from frustration to lightheartedness, laughter spilling out between the two of you.
“My shoulder is now wet,” Seungmin complained, feigning annoyance as he brushed water off his shirt.
“Is it my fault that you work out so much? Your shoulders are just too broad!” you shot back, unable to suppress a grin.
“Did you just compliment me?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with mischief.
“Ugh, it wasn’t a compliment!” you retorted, trying to keep a straight face.
“Then I’ll just have to embrace this wetness!” he said cheerfully, adjusting the umbrella with exaggerated flair. Before you knew it, he leaned closer, and water dripped off his shoulder, splashing onto you.
You burst into laughter, shoving him playfully. “You idiot!”
Seungmin laughed too, chasing after you as you dashed away, your heart racing with excitement. The rain seemed to fade into the background, the only sound being your giggles and the splatter of water against the pavement.
“You’re going to pay for that!” he yelled, laughter echoing through the downpour.
Just as you turned to look back, he splashed a wave of water right at you, soaking you completely. You retaliated, grabbing a handful of rainwater and splashing it back at him.
The playful battle raged on, and soon both of you were drenched, shivering yet exhilarated.
---
It was two weeks before the big play, and you were laser-focused on perfecting every detail. The pressure was on, and you found yourself spending more time practicing than ever. You wanted everything to be perfect, especially with the role you were playing. Seungmin, of course, was your partner in most scenes, so you had to rehearse together.
But as you delivered your lines, standing face-to-face with Seungmin, it became harder and harder to stay serious. Seungmin kept pulling funny faces behind his lines, causing you to break character and burst into laughter.
“Direct, please, punch him or something!” you whined dramatically, throwing your hands up. “He won’t stop!”
The director, seeing your exaggerated reaction, just chuckled. Meanwhile, the rest of the cast erupted in laughter.
"I’m serious now! I promise!" Seungmin said, shrugging off his antics.
You tried to continue, but the minute you looked at his serious face, you couldn’t hold back your laughter again. His deadpan expression was just too much.
“Okay, okay,” you said, wiping away a tear from laughing too hard. “Let’s take five. I need to compose myself.”
You sat down in the corner, still laughing. Seungmin joined you, shaking his head with a grin.
“Why are you always like this?” you asked, playfully slapping his arm. “We’re supposed to be professional!”
“Hey! I’m doing great! You’re the one laughing!” he protested with a smirk.
You couldn't deny it—something had shifted between you and Seungmin lately. There was this playful, easygoing dynamic now, and to your surprise, you liked it. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but the tension between the two of you had somehow dissolved, leaving behind a strange sort of camaraderie. And it felt... right.
---
Late again. You were quietly crawling your way toward your seat, praying that Seungmin wouldn’t notice. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be too preoccupied to see you sneaking in. But no such luck. Just as you thought you were in the clear, you saw Seungmin glancing in your direction, that infamous smirk already forming on his face. You knew that look all too well—he was up to something.
Desperate, you shot him a pleading look, mouthing a dramatic “Nooo,” and shaking your head in an exaggerated fashion. But the smirk only widened as he raised his hand.
“Ma'am!”
You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable scolding. This is it, you thought. I’m done.
But instead, Seungmin’s voice rang out casually, “I forgot to give you the assignments I collected from the class.”
Your eyes flew open in shock. What?
“Oh right! Thank you, Seungmin, for the reminder.” The teacher smiled at him, clearly appreciating the help.
Seungmin stood up, cool as ever, handing over the pile of papers. He sat back down, a faint smirk still on his lips as if nothing unusual had happened.
You slid into your seat cautiously, your heart still racing. You glanced over at Seungmin, who met your gaze with a quick wink before turning back to his notebook. That was... new, you thought, utterly confused.
--
Practice resumed as usual, and you started to get into the flow of things. You liked rehearsing for the play more than you thought you would, especially with the creative freedom you were given. The only downside? Seungmin never missed an opportunity to get under your skin.
As you entered the practice room, sporting your freshly cut hair, Seungmin immediately took notice.
He eyed you up and down, a teasing grin already forming on his lips. “You know,” he began, casually leaning back in his chair, “short hair doesn’t really suit you.”
You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where this was headed. “What are you talking about? I look pretty in it,” you shot back confidently, placing your hands on your hips.
Seungmin raised an eyebrow, the playful grin still firmly in place. “Pretty? More like you look like a monkey who tried to give itself a haircut.”
“Excuse me?” You gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “I do not look like a monkey.”
“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Seungmin shrugged, clearly enjoying how flustered you were getting. He leaned closer, dropping his voice dramatically. “But just so you know, if we ever put you in a zoo, you’d fit right in.”
You gasped again, this time more dramatically, then pointed at him with a mock serious expression. “You’re just jealous because I’m out here looking cute and you can’t handle it.”
“Cute?” Seungmin laughed, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“Whatever, I know the truth. You’re just afraid to admit that I’m rocking this look,” you teased back, refusing to back down.
“Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, monkey,” he said, chuckling softly as you narrowed your eyes at him.
--
Another day in class, you were erasing the board when something hit the back of your head. Startled, you spun around, spotting Seungmin sitting there, whistling innocently. It was the most obvious thing ever—he didn’t even try to hide it.
You glared at him, trying to keep your cool. ‘Let it go’, you thought. ‘Don’t give him the satisfaction’. But then, another paper ball hit you.
"Seriously?" you muttered under your breath, turning to give him a sharp look.
This time, Seungmin didn’t bother pretending. He smiled and pointed to the paper ball on the floor. “Read it,” he said, nodding toward the crumpled note.
You raised your hand, ready to throw the eraser at him with full force.
“Wait!” Seungmin said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Just read it, will you?”
With a dramatic sigh, you picked up the paper, unfolding it. Written in his messy handwriting were the words: “Let’s eat. My treat.”
Before you could react, Jisung, who had been quietly observing the whole scene, burst into laughter. “What kind of lame drama am I witnessing?” he cackled.
You whipped around and threw the eraser at him instead, hitting him square in the shoulder. “Mind your own business, Jisung!”
“Hey! I’m just saying!” Jisung grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos.
Later that afternoon, you and Seungmin found yourselves at a seafood restaurant. Well, it was supposed to be Seungmin’s treat, but somehow the two of you ended up bickering over who would pay. Cause you wanna pay too.
“Let’s settle this the mature way—rock, paper, scissors,” Seungmin proposed, holding out his fist.
“Fine,” you agreed, thinking you had a good chance.
You both threw out your hands, and you won.
“Yes!” you exclaimed, triumph coursing through you for about five seconds. But then Seungmin began to order.
He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re gonna regret that.”
You frowned, confusion creeping in as the waiter approached. Seungmin rattled off an absurd number of dishes—enough to feed an entire village.
“Seungmin,” you hissed, eyes wide in disbelief, “do you really need to order enough food for 30 people?”
Seungmin leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed. “You said it was your treat. I’m just taking full advantage.”
You pouted, crossing your arms defiantly. “This isn’t fair. You’re evil.”
“Evil? No way,” he laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I prefer the term ‘strategically gifted.’”
As the waiter left with the long list of orders, you grumbled, “You should’ve thought about that before challenging me.”
In the end, Seungmin ended up paying for most of it, but you insisted on contributing, stubbornly pushing a few bills his way. He didn’t argue too much, shaking his head with an amused smile. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”
“Of course! If I’m going to be broke, I might as well be happy about it,” you retorted, a grin spreading across your face.
Seungmin laughed, clearly entertained by your determination. “Fair enough. Next time, I’ll just let you win without a fight.”
“Deal! But only if you promise not to order enough food for a small army,” you teased, raising your glass in a mock toast.
“Challenge accepted,” he replied, clinking his glass against yours, both of you laughing at the absurdity of it all.
--
Another rehearsal, and you were sitting on the sidelines, legs crossed as you watched your classmates perform. You had just finished your scene and were still buzzing from the energy of it all. The lights cast a warm glow on the stage, and you found yourself quietly admiring the atmosphere, the stars of the production shining brightly in your eyes.
Suddenly, the director's voice broke through your thoughts. “Seungmin, can you step in as the main character for a bit? Our lead’s absent today.”
“Sure,” Seungmin replied, standing up with an easy confidence. He made his way to the center of the stage, and you prepared for him to be awkward or hesitant. Instead, he surprised you.
As he took his place, he transformed. His movements were smooth and assured, his voice resonating with sincerity. You couldn’t help but lean forward, captivated. He moved across the stage effortlessly, delivering his lines with an authenticity that made you forget you were watching your friend.
Wow, he was really talented.
You shook your head slightly, trying to push the thought away. No way could you think Seungmin was handsome. That was just absurd.
Then came a scene where he had to hug the female lead. As he pulled her into a gentle embrace, your heart gave a small, inexplicable flutter. The warmth of his presence seemed to radiate even from where you sat, and you felt an unfamiliar tightening in your stomach.
You tried to shrug it off, focusing on the performance, but the feeling lingered, swirling with an odd mix of admiration and something else entirely. Watching him, you realized you were seeing a different side of Seungmin—one that was undeniably charismatic and captivating.
The rehearsal continued, but you found it harder to concentrate, your thoughts drifting back to the way he had held her, how effortlessly he embodied the character. What was happening to you? You glanced away, trying to regain your composure, but the strange flutter remained, echoing in your mind long after the scene ended.
You were still lost in thought about the rehearsal when Hyunjin sat down beside you. “You look really pretty with your hair like that,” he commented with a smile.
You blushed at the compliment, glancing down. “Thanks! Seungmin said it doesn’t suit me.”
Hyunjin chuckled softly. “Seungmin? He’s just teasing you. That’s his way of telling you he likes it.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You think?”
“Definitely,” Hyunjin replied with a smirk. “He wouldn’t bother teasing you if he didn’t like it.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “He always tease me.”
Hyunjin leaned back, still smiling. “How did you two meet, anyway?”
“We’re neighbors,” you explained. “Since elementary school. We were always competing—who could get the best grades, who could finish their homework first. It’s been like that forever.”
Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Do you hate him?”
You laughed, thinking for a moment. “If I could push him off a cliff, I probably would.”
Hyunjin grinned. “Would you really, though?”
You hesitated, suddenly unsure. “...yes,” you admitted, half-joking.
Hyunjin chuckled, clearly sensing something. “Well, I hope I don’t hear about you two pushing each other off cliffs anytime soon.”
You shrugged with a playful smile. “No promises.”
--
Later, you were eating peacefully in the cafeteria, minding your own business, when Seungmin plopped his tray down across from you. He sat down without a word, digging into his food.
You raised an eyebrow, already knowing what was coming. “Let me guess... your friends are coming?”
Seungmin glanced at you lazily, a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. “No, they don’t wanna see you.”
You pouted, pretending to be offended. “I miss Hyunjin.”
“Then ask him out,” Seungmin replied lazily, taking a bite of his bread.
You paused mid-bite, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him. “You think I have a chance with him?”
Seungmin smirked, shaking his head. “No, he hates monkeys like you who throw erasers at people.”
You gasped, glaring at him. “I do not look like a monkey!”
“Sure, whatever helps you,” Seungmin teased, his grin widening. “And for the record, Hyunjin’s probably just being nice.”
You frowned, “He said I was pretty with my new haircut.”
Seungmin scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how much he lies? He probably tells that to everyone.”
You didn’t bother arguing. Instead, you decided to change tactics. “Help me get him to go out with me, then.”
Seungmin snorted. “Do it on your own. You’re big enough for that.”
You groaned dramatically, leaning across the table toward him. “If you help me, I’ll buy you something. Anything you want.”
Seungmin looked at you, considering it for a moment before shrugging. “Buy me a house."
You rolled your eyes, giving him a deadpan stare. “Never mind. I’ll do it myself.”
He smirked, clearly enjoying how easily you gave up. “Good luck, Juliet.”
--
It was Friday again, and somehow, you found yourself seated next to Seungmin—again. This time, however, you arrived early, a full thirty minutes ahead of your usual time. Feeling tired, you laid your head on the desk, hoping to catch a quick nap.
Just as you were dozing off, you felt a sharp knock on the desk, startling you awake. You looked up to see Seungmin grinning down at you, clearly enjoying your misery.
“Missing me that much, huh?” he teased. “You’re thirty minutes earlier than usual.”
You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “We basically see each other every day. I’m already sick of it,” you replied with a shrug.
Seungmin chuckled, settling into his seat beside you. “You’ll survive. Anyway, I need to copy your assignment.”
You blinked, sitting up straight. “We had an assignment?”
“Seriously?” Seungmin raised an eyebrow, holding back a laugh. He reached into his bag and pulled out his own paper, handing it to you. “Here, just copy mine before Ma’am shows up.”
You took the paper from him, still confused. “Wait, I thought you said you didn’t do the assignment either?”
“I forgot that I had,” Seungmin said casually, smirking. “Now hurry up before it’s too late.”
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your pen and started copying the assignment, scribbling quickly while glancing at the door every few seconds to make sure the teacher wasn’t close. As you worked, you couldn’t help but notice the shift between you and Seungmin. There was a time when you would’ve refused to help him—or worse, argued with him endlessly. But now? It felt... different. There was a weird sense of comfort in these small moments.
"What now? does our fighting over who finish assignments first done?" you laugh,
"Then give me back my paper. I've changed my mind."
You didn’t hate it. In fact, you kind of liked it.
--
Seungmin was sipping on his water bottle backstage when Hyunjin approached him, all casual as ever.
“Seungmin,” Hyunjin started, leaning against the wall beside him. “Do you like her?”
Seungmin paused mid-sip, glancing sideways at Hyunjin with a raised brow. “What are you talking about?”
Hyunjin gave him a knowing look. “I’ve known you for years, dude. I know when you like someone.”
Seungmin snorted, trying to brush it off. “Why would that matter to you?”
“Well,” Hyunjin said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “if I asked her out, would you get mad?”
Seungmin’s eyes widened slightly before he quickly masked it, his expression turning nonchalant. “Why would I care?”
Hyunjin tilted his head, smirking as if testing Seungmin’s reaction. “Really?”
Seungmin waved his hand dismissively, though his jaw tightened slightly. “What am I, a matchmaker for you two? Why are you even asking for my opinion? I don’t care.”
Hyunjin chuckled and slung an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders. “Thanks, bro. That’s all I needed to know.”
As Hyunjin walked away, Seungmin clenched his water bottle a little too tightly. He wasn’t sure what irritated him more—the fact that Hyunjin seemed interested in you, or the fact that you two were making him feel like some kind of third wheel. Whatever it was, it was starting to get under his skin.
--
Seungmin was making his way back to the classroom, balancing a small box of milk he’d grabbed for you from the cafeteria. He'd overheard you mention wanting one earlier, so without a second thought, he picked one up, hoping to surprise you.
As he neared the classroom door, he paused when he heard your voice. You were deep in conversation with one of your friends, and for some reason, curiosity got the better of him. He stood just outside, hidden by the doorframe, listening.
"Why do you hate Seungmin so much, anyway?" your friend asked.
Seungmin’s ears perked up at the question, his grip tightening around the milk carton. He wasn’t sure why he was still standing there, but he couldn’t move. He just waited.
You sighed before answering, "He's so annoying. Always teasing me, always acting like he’s better than me. He’s infuriating."
Each word hit him harder than he expected, like tiny jabs that made his heart sink deeper and deeper. He already knows this what you felt for him but he doesn't know why it still hurts. He could feel his chest tighten, his breath coming out a little shallower as he stayed rooted to the spot.
But then you added something else, something he missed. A quieter tone followed the harshness of your earlier words. It was softer, almost like you were reflecting on something.
"Lately though... I don’t know. I guess I’ve started to see that maybe he’s not that bad."
But Seungmin didn’t hear those words. He had already turned away, stepping back before he could catch the change in your tone. His heart, now heavier, urged him to walk in the opposite direction, so that’s exactly what he did. The milk, once meant to be a small gesture of kindness, now felt pointless in his hand.
PE class rolled around, and with no rehearsal scheduled, you entered the gym, spotting Seungmin as usual. You both ended up being partners again—something that had become routine at this point. There were no protests, no over-the-top objections. Just quiet acceptance.
The first activity was jogging, but you immediately noticed something was off. Normally, Seungmin would be teasing you the whole time, making snarky comments about how slow you were. But today, he was silent.
"One minute," you said, reading his time on the stopwatch. Normally, this would prompt a laugh from him, followed by some sarcastic remark about how you'd be the first one caught in a zombie apocalypse.
But today, he just nodded and moved on to the next activity without a word. Weird.
The next exercise was push-ups. You barely managed four before collapsing, groaning in exhaustion. Seungmin, on the other hand, breezed through twenty without breaking a sweat. You tried to compliment him in a lowkey way, but he didn’t react—just kept going like a machine.
What is up with him?
Then came the sit-ups. You held down Seungmin’s toes, though it didn’t seem like he needed any help. His form was perfect, and he didn’t even look your way. The proximity of the exercise made you search for his eyes, but every time you tried to make eye contact, he avoided looking at you.
When it was your turn, you felt exhausted by your fifth sit-up, and Seungmin held your toes firmly in place. This time, he watched you more intently, though you couldn’t see him since you were focusing on the exercise. Only when you glanced up did he quickly avert his gaze.
After class, you caught him trying to leave and stopped him in his tracks.
“Seungmin, what’s going on with you?” you asked, planting yourself in front of him.
He gave you a blank look. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re acting... weirdly weird today. Did something happen?”
Seungmin sighed, clearly not in the mood for a conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly, brushing past you.
You caught his arm before he could fully walk away. “Hey, you can talk to me. If something’s wrong, just tell me.”
He paused, looking at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before saying coldly, “Why would I? We’re not friends.”
The words hit you harder than you expected. You froze, watching as he walked away, feeling a strange pang in your chest.
Later, you sat next to Hyunjin, watching Seungmin perform his scenes on stage. He still ignored you, going through the motions of his role flawlessly, but there was no denying the distance between you now. The way he looked past you, as if you weren’t there, made you feel... sad.
“What’s up with him?” you muttered to Hyunjin. “He’s been acting strange all day.”
Hyunjin smirked. “He’s probably mad about what I told him.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”
Hyunjin chuckled softly, leaning closer. “I told him I like you. And that I was going to ask you out.”
You blinked in surprise, staring at him. “Wait... what?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why else would he be jealous?”
“Jealous?” you repeated, confused. “Why would he be jealous?”
Hyunjin let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know if you and Seungmin are both idiots, or if you’re just blind.”
“Ouch,” you said, feigning offense, though your mind was spinning. Jealous? Seungmin?
Hyunjin’s laugh faded into a small smile, and after a moment of silence, he sighed. “Wow, my confession really flew under the radar, huh?”
You looked at him, feeling a little guilty. Oh... right. His confession.
You smiled awkwardly. “Wait, was it serious? Or were you just joking?”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “You think I’m a joker like that puppy?” He nodded toward Seungmin, who was still on stage.
Normally, this would be the moment where you’d blush, stammer, and lose your mind. But something didn’t feel right. There was something nagging at you, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
“I...”
Before you could respond, Hyunjin raised a hand, cutting you off. “Actually, you know what? Don’t answer me yet. I’ll wait until after the play presentation.”
He smiled, and you smiled back, though it felt forced.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m just getting my water bottle,” Seungmin’s voice broke the moment as he stepped between you two, grabbing his bottle.
You opened your mouth to say something, but he was gone before you could. You stared after him, feeling more confused than ever.
-
In the past, this type of bickering was normal between you two. You had always gotten on each other's nerves, and usually, you'd be happy to ignore him, savoring the peace and quiet. But this time felt different. Why were you so affected by his silence? Why did it feel like a hollow pit had formed in your chest, waiting for him to fill it? You hated him, didn’t you? You used to hate him—right? But now, all you felt was a growing sense of confusion and frustration, like you were waiting for something that never came.
Seungmin had been avoiding you for three days now, and at first, you brushed it off, assuming he had something on his mind. But as time went on, the weight of his silence pressed harder. It wasn’t just affecting the play—it was affecting you. His avoidance felt more personal than it ever had before, and it gnawed at you until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.
"Seungmin, let's talk." You caught up to him backstage, your voice firmer than usual, trying to mask the vulnerability you were starting to feel.
"Why?" he responded coldly, not even looking in your direction.
You blinked, taken aback by the sharpness of his tone. "What do you mean, 'why'? We obviously need to talk about something."
"I don't want to," he replied like a stubborn child, folding his arms defensively.
You groaned, frustration bubbling inside you. "Stop giving me that bratty attitude, Seungmin. Let's just talk, okay?" Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist, dragging him toward the exit door for privacy.
Once you were both outside, you turned to face him, still gripping his wrist. "Are you angry at me?" you asked softly, though the edge of desperation in your voice betrayed you.
Seungmin pulled his hand away from your grasp, shrugging. "We're normally angry at each other," he muttered, staring at the ground as if avoiding your gaze would shield him from the conversation.
You furrowed your brows, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Seungmin, we both know something has changed between us. We’re… sort of friends now, right? Why are you acting like this?"
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Why? This is normal. We’ve always been like this. Why are you suddenly acting like something's different?"
Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard. "So I’m still just an enemy to you?" The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, and you hated yourself for how much it hurt. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back quickly. "Because for me—" Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to continue. "For me, things changed. I’ll be honest with you. I hated you so much before, Seungmin. I mean, if I could’ve thrown you into the fire pit, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat." You laughed bitterly, trying to lighten the mood, but your heart ached as you realized the truth. "But now, I see you as a friend."
Seungmin's breath hitched at your confession, and for a moment, his walls seemed to crack. But then his jaw clenched, and he shook his head. "No."
You stared at him, bewildered. "No? What do you mean 'no'?"
His voice was strained, like he was forcing the words out. "Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t you just focus on Hyunjin and pretend like I’m not even here?"
"Why would I do that?" you asked, confusion lacing your words.
Seungmin's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Because you like him," he bit out. "You like Hyunjin, and you’ve hated me since the day we met."
You stepped closer, lowering your voice, "Seungmin… I told you. We're past that stage of hating each other."
His laugh was hollow, bitter. "You’ve hated me since we were kids. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? But you know what? I preferred it that way. I’d rather you keep hating me than whatever this is."
You were silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. It hit you hard—the realization that Seungmin had always been more affected by your feelings than you’d thought. And now, he was clinging to the past because it was easier to accept your hatred than deal with the uncertainty of whatever you were becoming now.
"But I don't hate you anymore," you said softly, your voice gentle but firm.
His gaze flickered up to meet yours for the briefest second before he looked away again, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, but instead, he shook his head, taking a deep breath.
"Then what do you feel now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
It was a question you hadn’t fully answered yourself. What did you feel? What had changed between you two? The hate had faded long ago, replaced by something warmer, something deeper. But how could you put it into words when you weren’t sure what those feelings even were?
"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But I know I don’t want to keep ignoring it. I don’t want to keep pretending like we’re still stuck in the past. I care about you, Seungmin, and I—"
He cut you off, his voice sharp but shaky, "Stop. Don’t say it. Please."
His plea was laced with fear, and you could see it now—the fear of getting hurt, of being vulnerable. Seungmin had always hidden behind his teasing and sharp words, but now, as he stood before you, walls crumbling, you realized just how much he had been protecting himself all along.
"Seungmin..." You took a step closer, your hand hesitating before reaching out to touch his arm. "You don’t have to push me away."
He closed his eyes, his shoulders tense, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away again. But then, he sighed, the weight of his emotions too heavy to bear alone anymore. "You don’t get it," he whispered, his voice raw. "I’m scared. Scared that if you don’t hate me, you’ll realize… I’ve liked you for so long, and I don’t know how to handle that."
Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. The tension, the unspoken words, all of it finally made sense. You felt your chest tighten as you processed his words, the vulnerability behind them cutting deep.
Seungmin liked you.
And somehow, deep down, you’d known.
-
The day of the play had arrived, and for the first time, a tight knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. You'd performed in front of people before, but this time felt different. This time, you weren’t just performing in front of a crowd—you were performing in front of him.
As you paced backstage, waiting for the curtain to rise, you couldn’t help but glance around anxiously, searching for Seungmin. The others were already in place, getting ready for the opening act. But Seungmin… he was nowhere to be seen.
Your heart raced as minutes ticked by. What if he didn’t show up? What if his feelings, the tension between you, had driven him away? You shook your head, trying to focus, but the anxiety clung to you like a second skin.
The stage manager called for the cast to take their places, and you stepped toward the stage, dread settling deep in your chest. The lights dimmed, the curtains rustled, and the play was about to begin. But Seungmin—where was he?
Just as the opening music started and your heart sank, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned and saw him. Seungmin, slightly out of breath, his eyes locking with yours as he walked into place. He gave you a small, reassuring nod, and you felt a rush of relief. He had made it.
You took a deep breath, letting his presence calm you, and when the curtains finally rose, you stepped into your role. The lights blinded you for a second, and the sound of the audience rustled in the background, but none of that mattered. Your focus was on one person.
Seungmin.
You went through your lines, heart pounding in your chest. The audience faded away, and it was just the two of you on stage. But when you looked into Seungmin’s eyes, delivering your lines, it felt too real—like every word you spoke wasn’t part of the play but something deeper.
And then came the moment. The pivotal line.
As you reached the climax of your scene, Seungmin stepped closer, his gaze steady and intense. “I love you,” he said, his voice clear and sincere.
Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words, delivered in that moment, felt electric. It wasn’t just a line; it was a declaration that cut through the scripted lines and went straight to your heart.
Tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over. You weren’t supposed to cry here—not in this scene—but it was impossible to hold back the emotion. The intensity of the moment, standing before him as he revealed his feelings, overwhelmed you.
Seungmin’s gaze softened, and for a second, the audience faded away. It was just you and him, wrapped in a moment that felt like the truth finally breaking through.
You tried to respond, but the weight of his confession hung in the air, filling the space between you. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.
The play continued, but all you could think about was Seungmin’s words. He had spoken them as part of the script, but they felt so real, so genuine. Something shifted in the atmosphere between you two—something undeniable.
As the final act came to a close, and you took your bow, the audience erupted in applause. But even then, your eyes were only on Seungmin, wondering if he felt the same shift in the air between you two. Something had changed. Something profound. And while you weren’t sure where it would lead, for now, you were content just to hold on to the moment, letting it linger as the lights dimmed and the curtains closed.
For now, the stage had played its part, but what came next was something only time would tell.
-
a reblog, like, and comment is very much appreciated to keep me going. thanks for reading, love!
sorry for being inactive lately and not responding to any of your messages i appreciate you all love you sm!!
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The Silent Witness - Oneshot Series
(2) How you Become an Agent
Chapter Information
Summary: With a sudden career change underway you find yourself enraveled in a case that's more than personal for the BAU.
Content Warnings: S6/7 Spoilers, Doyle Arc Spoilers, Canon Violence/Gore, Awkward!Reader & Spencer, Betraya/Lies.
Word Count: 9,504.
Story Masterlist - (1) - (2)
You were extremely glad the long day was coming to an end. The lab-techs were arriving to clean the morgue for the evening, and you were ready to happily retire to your apartment for the night, where you would remain on-call until the morning.
You quickly bustled around your small desk, your body on autopilot as you cleaned up the files and packed up your belongings.
You were pulled out of your reverie by the shrill ringing of your telephone. You began to irrationally panic, dropping the stack of files onto your chair as quickly as possible, not wanting to keep the caller waiting.
Once you finally had free hands and lifted the receiver you were met with a familiar voice you couldn’t help smiling at.
“Hi Y/N, it’s Agent Hotchner from the BAU.” You couldn’t help but smile at the vaguely familiar voice.
“Yes, to what do I owe the pleasure, agent?”
“I actually have a couple questions. I need a consult.”
“Yeah, that’s not a problem... fire away!”
“We have an agent who is in some trouble at the moment…” You hum down the receiver to indicate to Hotch you were listening.
“… she’s being transferred into WITSEC, but in order for that transition to raise no questions, she needs to ‘die’.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” You say, your tone taking an even and professional edge.
“She was seriously injured in an encounter with an UnSub, and sent to hospital, where she was then airlifted to another and stabilised. I can’t disclose much more, but I was wondering if a post-mortem report would be necessary?”
“Okay, well most hospitals conduct post-mortems on their patients if they die in their care. And these are supposed to be easily accessible to the friends and family of the deceased. So, I would say that if you’re trying to cover all bases it would be a necessary move.”
“How would I go about that?” You twirl your hair around your finger, deep in thought.
“If you email me over her patient file, I can sign off on a PM report for you? I’m obviously totally excluded from this case, and you would need her consent to share the files, but I’m totally covered legally for that type of thing.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Absolutely not. Not if it lifts a weight off your shoulders, plus I can do PM reports in my sleep.”
You hear Agent Hotchner chuckle through the phone at this.
“That would be greatly appreciated doctor.”
“Yeah, as I said just send me over…”
“-Actually, I had one last thing to ask.” He continues, piquing your interest.
“Okay-”
“We had an increase in budget this year that would allow us to hire an extra agent. I have been in contact with my higher-ups who are currently in the process of trying to bring forensic medical professionals into the bureau, and they are currently finishing up a state-of-the-art mortuary facility on the academy grounds.”
You pause, absorbing all the information agent Hotchner was relaying too you, trying to process what he meant by all of this, and you couldn’t help but feel the excitement swell in your heart as you got your hopes up.
“The brass was obviously aware of you, and how highly I spoke of you on our return, and they requested that I reach out and ask you personally if you would be willing to consider a position. Now, I’m aware that it’s a big ask and that it would require a trans-Atlantic mo-“
“-Absolutely, I would absolutely consider it.” You can’t hide the excitement in your voice as you cut the agent off.
“-That’s great, I’m currently in the process of trying to negotiate a forensic professional to our team, who would be essential in commencing the work of the forensic pathology department, before stepping back into a role primarily within the BAU; and they said yes, we are just working out some of the finer details.”
“Hotch, do you happen to remember what I said in the café that day?” You heard him laugh.
“Yes.”
“This means, a lot to me. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem at all, I think you would be perfectly suited here.”
You try to contain your joy as Agent Hotchner takes a slight pause.
“I have a meeting later, I will keep you updated, but be prepared; this position will open up fairly quickly. I will also forward you the information regarding our agent.”
“That’s great, I will get all of that sorted for you tomorrow. Hotch?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks… really, this is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.” His laugh emanates through the phone again as you smile widely.
“It’s no problem, doctor. Have a good night.”
“And you.”
As you place the phone back down in its cradle you can’t help but jump up and down as a sense of overwhelming joy overtakes you.
The rush of adrenaline allows you to tidy your desk in record time and soon you find yourself slinging your bag over your shoulder and walking out onto the crowded streets of London, striding to the nearest Tube Station a bright, smile on your face that was here to stay.
-
Hotch wasn’t lying when he said the position would open up quickly, within a month you were officially an American citizen, and a federal agent in training about to begin your first day…. Well, half-day.
Nothing would ever come close to describing the anxiousness you felt gazing up at the looming foyer of the FBI Academy in which the BAU was based.
Butterflies swam through your stomach as you proceeded up the steps and towards the main doors where an FBI crest was flaunted above the doors inscribed with ‘Fidelity, Integrity, Bravery.” The words somehow calmed you. These people were the best of the best, and so were you, just maybe not at hand-to-hand combat.
Hotch had quickly made you aware that the unit was in a transitional period due to both, a major investigation, and the aforementioned ‘death’ of an agent. This meant, he would not be able to greet you, and instead he would be sending Garcia, a familiar face.
And as you made your way through the sliding glass doors, she quickly bustled up to you engulfing you in her arms; a hug you couldn’t help but find comforting. You were in slightly over your head; a new country, a new job, and what you hoped would be a new group of friends.
Garcia practically dragged you towards a front desk to retrieve a visitor pass and then towards a set of elevators.
“I’m so glad you’re here you know?”
“I’m glad to be here.”
“The whole team loved you in London.”
You grin at this, quickly snapping back to attention as the elevator doors slide open onto the sixth floor. You had little time to process this however as Penelope quickly grabbed your hand and dragged you towards glass doors that were inscribed with the initials ‘BAU’. If you weren’t nervous before, you were now.
“I should let you know that we are in a state of eternal chaos right now. I’m pretty sure Hotch hasn’t even had the chance to tell the team you are coming yet.” Garcia pushes open the doors and leads you through into a large open area.
The main floor of the BAU was carpeted, and spacious L-shaped desks created a sort of bullpen. Each desk had a unique personality that you couldn’t help noting. A raised platform ran along the back of the room housing offices and to the far left, what looked like a conference room.
The space was surprisingly welcoming for an office, and you slowly scanned the room, unable to spot any familiar faces before you were being dragged towards a corridor.
“This is my bat-cave.” Garcia has a proud look on her face as she walks into a large computer room littered with monitors, and a large wall-high computer unit sat behind glass on the other wall.
“Wait- this is amazing! Did you program it all?” You whisper as you trail your finger across the trinket-covered desk, noting the operating system was like no other you had ever seen.
“I did indeed.” You grin as you turn to face her, prying your eyes away from the impressive computers.
“Okay, the team will be here in about 10 minutes, in the meantime I have a PowerPoint.”
“A PowerPoint?”
“Yes, it’s the best way to deliver information.” You laugh shyly, shrugging your shoulders as she fiddles with her computer for a second before dragging you across the ramp, and towards the aforementioned conference room, pointing out offices as she went.
“This is Hotch’s office, he never leaves it unless he’s forced to. This is Rossi’s office, He has expensive renaissance art, and Morgan’s office is back there, he’s hot.” You can’t help but laugh at their dynamic which had stuck out to you in London, but it clearly wasn’t a one-off occurrence.
“…and this, my friend, is the round table room.” You quickly get ushered into one of the comfortable desk chairs as the screen lights up, Garcia standing in front of it.
“This is gonna be less dramatic since you’ve met everyone already but here goes nothing I guess-“
The screen flashes with a title slide reading ‘The Behavioural Analysis Unit’ in bold lettering, the unit logo accompanying it.
“I like your font choice-“ You smile as Garcia thanks you and changes the slide.
“Ohhh yes! Meet the team. This is the best part.” You chuckle at this allowing her to continue.
“Okay, so we of course have Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner…” You try to hold back a laugh as a small photo pops up on the screen accompanying some facts.
“…he is our ‘boss man’ and he’s the dad of the team, but he’s also actually a dad; his son’s name is Jack, and I can’t really remember what age he is but he’s very sweet. He also doesn’t smile… or blink, like ever so don’t be scared that’s just him.” You find yourself wondering whether or not this PowerPoint had been run past Hotch or not.
“Okay, we have me. Fun fact, I’m fabulous. If you ever need a sneaky background check on anyone, I can do that in literally three seconds flat, and I’m also fabulous.”
“Then we have Derek -Chocolate Thunder- Morgan. I’m his baby girl, don’t steal him from me, thank you. The rest is self-explanatory… just, look at him!” You lean back in your seat rolling your eyes, but the sudden sound of a door opening grabs your attention, startling you.
“Garcia?” JJ makes her way into the room quickly spotting you sat on the chair. She laughs slightly as she notices the slideshow proudly displayed on the projector.
“Did you run this past Hotch?”
“No-“ JJ laughs, rolling her eyes as she turns to you, offering a warm smile.
“Dr. L/N, it’s great to have you here, I’ll take you to Hotch’s office. He left the contracts in there.”
-
“Who’s that?” Morgan points towards a shadowed figure sat opposite JJ in Hotch’s office.
The team had been busy monitoring Declan and trying to come up with a plan for when Doyle resurfaced that, they had failed to remember Hotch’s brief mention of a new agent before he left for his temporary assignment in Pakistan.
“JJ’s probably talking to Strauss.” Spencer shrugs, squinting one last time at the image distorted by the half-closed blinds.
“There were whispers of a new agent-“ Rossi says, rolling his eyes at the team’s speculation, fully aware he was only furthering their curiosity. But instead, he leads them towards the conference room where Garcia is preparing case files.
“Hotch wouldn’t hire a new agent, not right now anyway, he isn’t even here.” Spencer places his satchel across the back of the chair before slumping down into it.
“Yeah, with this whole Doyle thing, it wouldn’t make sense. Plus, it’s not like anybody would willingly walk into this chaos.”
The team begin to discuss their findings amongst themselves, taking notes.
-
“Alright Y/N, you don’t have to sign the contracts for your main job until Hotch returns. For now, you just need to sign the ones admitting you into the Academy, where you will complete the physical requirements. The academics have been waived, as you will be spending your free time with us.” You nod, quickly scrawling your signature down into all the open spaces on the contract and hand the form to JJ.
“Okay, Academy starts in three days, but for now you can come and meet the team.” JJ smiles at you patting you lightly on your shoulder.
“You’re gonna do great.” You feel your cheeks heat up.
“Do the team know I’m coming?” JJ stops at the door, turning to you.
“They don’t. We are currently tracking an international terrorist who killed one of our own, and it’s pretty much a waiting game until he resurfaces. They’ve been pretty preoccupied.” You nod, solemnly at JJ.
“Thanks for the falsified PM report by the way.” She chuckles as your eyes widen.
“You know?”
“Yeah, it was a joint decision between Hotch and I to put Agent Prentiss into WITSEC, this is the tail end of her case.” You gasp as you make the connection.
“I read about it, He was vengeful at Emily for killing his son, so he attempted to murder her.” JJ nods.
“But in front of the team, you know nothing okay? As far as they are aware Emily Prentiss was killed by Ian Doyle. That’s it.”
“Got it.” You allow JJ to lead you down the hallway towards the BAU roundtable room, where you can see the team sat talking amongst themselves.
“Guys-“ JJ speaks up as she walks through the door, you follow her through standing awkwardly as the teams eyes fall on you.
“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice pipes up as you give him a small smile and an awkward wave, which doesn’t falter the confusion across his features.
“Hotch never got around to telling you, but Y/N is going to be our newest team member. For the moment she’s in training. But she will become an invaluable asset to this team once Hotch returns and she is assigned her true position. She will work with us whilst running then new forensic pathology department in the Bureau.” You gaze over the team attempting to process JJ’s words.
“She’s not an agent?” Derek speaks up. You are too distracted however, by Spencer who is patting the empty seat beside him.
You settle in the seat as JJ begins explaining your situation.
“Y/N is technically in the academy, she’s completing the fitness and marksmanship regime, we will provide the academic training here. Once Hotch returns, she will then hopefully be an agent, and then he will arrange her paperwork for her official position.” Morgan furrows his brows, but nods at this.
“I was remediated in the academy also.” Spencer pipes up from beside you, catching your attention.
“For what?” You quietly question, your curiosity peaking.
“Pretty much anything relating to physical strength, or capabilities. If it wasn’t inherently textbook based, I didn’t do it.” You chuckle.
“I mean, I agreed to do all the physical training.” You smile down at your lap, as Morgan laughs.
“She’s smart and athletic, pretty boy you’ve got competition.” A blush rolls over Spencer’s cheeks as the rest of the team join in a chorus of laughter. You can’t help but feel the blush rising to your own cheeks also.
“Why did you move from London?” your gaze turns to Rossi, who offers you a small smile.
“I was just interested in a change, and I was lucky enough to be able to take this opportunity.” You smiled at the group, trying your best to keep your eyes on the people, and not on your lap where they defaulted to.
“I must say, it’s a bit strange that both times we’ve met it has been over an international terrorist.” Spencer’s voice cuts through the remaining chatter and laughter, his observation creating a new rise out of the team.
“Yeah, I guess.”
-
“Do you think it’s weird?” You practically whisper as Spencer weaves you through the bullpen, towards what you were to assume would be your new desk.
“What’s weird?” He furrows his brow as he rolls out the chair, beckoning you to sit.
The desk was empty, apart from a monitor, keyboard and mouse that provided you access to various FBI databases. You weren’t one for clutter and material possessions, but you couldn’t help but recognise that the empty desk struck fear in your heart, it felt like a metaphor for your new life in Quantico.
“Me being here.” Your voice comes out a bit sadder than anticipated, each syllable laced with insecurity that would easily be picked up by a profiler.
“No, it’s not weird. In fact, I think it’s a good thing.” You feel yourself relax slightly at Spencer’s reassurance.
Reid was a sweet guy, and you were glad you had been partnered with him to learn basic profiling skills; not that you would be expected to use them, as Spencer had said, but he thought they would be good to know.
Truth be told, you were pretty sure the team had been trying their best to fill time. With the group being rather disbanded, and cases being on hold Spencer had chosen teaching you as a valid time-passing opportunity.
Pulling you out of your thoughts Spencer stood at the desk opposite, his fingers trailing over the spines of the books he had stacked high, before selecting one.
“That’s your desk?” You snapped your head up towards him as he offered you a lopsided grin and a nod.
“Yeah.” You felt a blush roll over your face, that you quickly hid by gazing down at your lap, allowing Spencer to push his chair up next to yours.
“I have an idea, that’s more interesting than reading a book.” You look up at him in confusion.
“Apparently there’s this game, called two truths and a lie?” You simply nod your head, at what sounded like a question. He seemed unsure of his own idea as he quickly continued.
“Well, in criminal profiling one of the most useful skills is to know when someone is lying. It’s obviously not one-hundred-percent fool proof, but it can dictate your next move as regards their case. And I guess it could be useful in life?” You chuckle at this, nodding your head, trying to hide your anxiousness at the prospect of having to read someone’s behaviour in front of a professional.
“I’m -uh- I’m notoriously terrible at reading people.” You feel your cheeks heat up yet again in embarrassment. Spencer’s eyes connect with yours and you quickly divert your gaze away from him.
“It’s okay, we can make it easy. I know what my tell is so I will make it more obvious for you to begin with. Just study my behaviour as best as you can and let me know if you want me to say them again.” You nod, swallowing harshly.
“Okay, I was sixteen when I got my first PhD in mathematics.” Spencer pauses, as you slowly take him in, he seems totally normal, you nod.
“I graduated high school at twelve.” You watch him again, noticing absolutely no change in his behaviour.
“I was twenty-two when I joined the BAU.” You furrow your brows, totally unsure of which was a lie, they all seemed plausible for a genius like Spencer.
“I-uhm-“ You turn your gaze to him panicking slightly as you realise, he’s looking for an answer.
“I- have no idea.” You whisper, crossing your legs up in the chair as Spencer nods.
“That’s okay, do you want to try again?” You can’t help but deflate at the idea of going through that again.
“O-okay.”
Spencer repeats the three statements again, his gaze remains fixed on you as if he’s reading your ultimate confusion.
Spencer immediately notes you perking up after the third statement.
“The first one is a lie, right?” You say, trying to hold back the grin on your face.
“How do you know?” Oh shit. You certainly couldn’t explain yourself, then he would know that you totally failed the exercise and used logic instead.
If he graduated high school at twelve, he couldn’t have had a PhD at sixteen, right? That whittles it down to a fifty-fifty chance it’s either one of them… maybe?
“Uhm, well the average PhD takes seven years to complete, five years for your masters, and then two for your dissertation. You’re pretty smart, but not super-human enough to only manage it in four years, considering you have to learn all course material and write an 80,000-word dissertation.”
You continue talking when Spencer fails to fill the silence, you failing to notice the look of shock on Spencer’s face.
“Well, I personally graduated medical school in four years, instead of five. So, I was twenty-one, and then did my two years of foundation training and it was extremely difficult to do extra-curricular research alongside full-time work, and placements. This was all despite the fact that I never found it difficult to remember the academics. I digress though, it would be virtually impossible to do a PhD in 4 years.”
Spencer swallows harshly as he chuckles.
“Yeah, I -uhm- well, you were right.” He’s still relatively speechless and you can’t help but begin to worry that you overwhelmed him.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble, I just- I know it was supposed to be human behaviour, but I don’t- I couldn’t-“
“It’s okay Y/N, I just didn’t realise you were so impressive-“ Spencer’s voice has jumped an octave and he’s staring at you so intensely that you shrivel back into your chair.
“I- I mean, I’m not- I, -I just relate to you?” Spencer shifts in his chair, a squeak interrupting the silence, and causing you to jump.
“It’s o-okay, it’s nice to have-“
“Reid! L/N! Can you come into the roundtable room? We’re going to catch you up on Doyle.” JJ gestures for the pair of you to follow her, interrupting the awkward exchange between the pair of you, replacing it with a work environment that would mask you amongst others.
-
“We were in the hospital for about eight hours, that night, but she died on the table.” You hang your head slowly, nodding as Morgan’s voice wavers uncharacteristically. You had to try your best to keep the secret.
“We never got access to the post-mortem report from the hospital either, not even Garcia could find it.” Your head snaps up at this as you quickly come up with an excuse.
“Yeah, well you wouldn’t be allowed access to it without a next-of-kin’s consent. It’s likely that because her killer was still loose and was so high-profile, that they wouldn’t want to offer up any sensitive info. Her personnel file was erased right?”
“Yeah, it was.” Morgan confirms.
“Well, it’s just so they can’t get to people who are involved in her case as easily.” You place your hands on the desk in front of you as Spencer eyes you.
The rest of the team look pretty sad, Garcia is dabbing her eyes with a tissue, Spencer appears to be peeved off, but Morgan’s face is set in unadulterated frustration.
“Doyle knows us, he knows the BAU. If he wants blood, he will come for us.” You shrug slightly at this; the fact of the matter was they wouldn’t have access, even if it existed.
“I’m sorry Morgan.” You say, pursing your lips together offering him a tight smile.
“How about we just go back to-“ JJ leans forwards patting the centre of the table in an attempt to steer the conversation back on track.
“-yeah.” Reid jumped in, before continuing.
“We knew that after Emily’s death, Doyle would want to resurface to search for his son Declan who-
“Sorry to interrupt Reid but speaking of resurfacing-“ You can practically feel the panic emanating from the team as they all dash towards Garcia at the head of the table, leaving you behind.
You rock side to side in the swivel chair as the team all gather in the corner of the room talking over Garcia’s laptop screen.
“That’s him.”
“Can we be so sure? I mean, it’s only been a month.”
“Spencer, I- Y/N, can you come here?”
You stand making your way towards JJ who is shuffling through a folder.
“This is a photograph of Ian Doyle. Is this man from the CCTV him?” She pokes her finger towards the male in question on the laptop.
“I mean given how statistically unlikely it is for someone this remarkably similar to exist in an area being surveyed for Doyle’s presence, I would say yes that definitely is him. Especially so, considering he has no biological siblings.” JJ nods, agreeing with you.
The rest of the team straighten up, looking to each other as if to decide who gives the orders, all eyes eventually settling on Derek.
“Okay, well I think we should set up surveillance for Declan full time. He is our priority.” You nod in response, as JJ quickly grabs a pen, scrawling on the back of her case file.
“We can dispatch agents to his house to watch for suspicious activity. Spencer, Penelope, we need you to track all of Doyle’s aliases, and update us if any of them resurface, or lead you to an address. In the meantime, Morgan and I will stakeout his school, and see if he will lead us to his hideout from there. Y/N, focus on academy, it’s about to get really busy in here.” JJ Claps her hand, signalling her finish as the rest of the team hums in approval.
For once in your life the room felt alive with the determination of the team, banding together.
“Rossi is in his office reviewing cases, I’ll let him know of the break and to be on standby if we need him, and Spencer in the field.” Morgan quickly dashes past you and out the door.
After that the team quickly went their separate ways. Spencer followed Garcia into her office, and not long after Morgan resurfaced from Rossi’s office, JJ had him bustled into the elevator with little time to spare. That left you standing in the middle of the roundtable room confused, and with a day to kill before academy.
-
“Welcome to the ‘Basic Field Training’ portion of the FBI Academy. Here we will teach you Firearms, Survival Skills, Tactical and Emergency Vehicle Operations, and of course you will be completing Hogan’s Alley.”
You cross your arms, pulling against your waist, almost giving yourself a hug. You were enjoying the comfort of the FBI hoodie you had been provided with, the soft fabric seemingly dampening your anxiety. You were in a new situation, with new, unfamiliar people.
“Today, we will focus on running the single mile, and the three mile as a warm-up. We will then have you split into three groups. One team will run the obstacle course, The second will go to the shooting range, and the final group will do arrests.”
The coach seemed like a fairly nice man, he had assured you before the class that he was aware of your situation, and that Agent Hotchner had spoken very highly of you. He had also noted that you had been put into a small group of 5 trainees to assure you got plenty of attention, in case your training were to be cut short.
“Okay can the five of you line up on the track and stretch out a bit.” The group followed the SSA’s instructions, lining up at the start line.
You zoned out as you went down your body, naming each muscle in your head and stretching it out until you were satisfied that you wouldn’t injure yourself.
“Is everyone finished?”
The group let out a chorus of ‘yes sir’s, and he offered you an assuring nod.
“Good. Remember it’s not a race, you may start now. Pace yourselves and enjoy it.”
As he stepped off the track the group began moving at a pace, but you stuck towards the back of the group, saving your energy for the final few yards.
You managed to settle into the rhythm of your feet hitting against the pavement, tuning out the hum of activity coming from your other academy-mates. Your breathing was even, steady, and unwavering as you felt the rush of adrenaline overcome you that made you feel as if you could do almost anything.
When you looked up from the ground, the finish line was nearing you, and with about 150 yards left you picked up the pace, slowly making your way to the front of the group. Not in an attempt to beat them, but an attempt to prove that you belonged among these people who had to complete a fitness test to qualify, when you didn’t.
As you cross the finish line you can’t help but feel proud of yourself, you weren’t the most athletic person and a mile was an achievement, and at twelve minutes, and fifteen seconds for a mile at an easy pace you weren’t doing too bad.
“That was a good warm-up guys, now for the three mile. Again, I don’t want you to worry about this too much, because we will be completing it every day for the rest of the course, and you will get better. But as a benchmark, I would be expecting about 36-38 minutes for this. Off you go!”
And off you went again, this time you kept behind the remainder of the group, who had started off pretty quickly for what was going to be three circuits of the mile track.
As you ran you gathered your thoughts. With the Doyle case you had been practically abandoned. Spencer and Garcia were hauled up in her office, and from the glimpses of Rossi you barely saw, reviewing and consulting on cases seemed to be time-consuming work.
You had spent the remainder of yesterday reviewing some materials Spencer had dropped on your desk from the academy lectures. They were pretty self-explanatory, and anything you didn’t know was pretty simple to remember considering you would quickly jot it down, solidifying it in your mind.
By the time you had finished Spencer and Garcia had resurfaced to check on you. And even though you insisted that you were happy to stay and help them in any other ways, they had insisted you had gone home, much to your chagrin.
You had walked home to an empty, undecorated apartment. It felt pretty lonely, and you didn’t want to be there if you could avoid it. In a rush decision you had grabbed your laptop bag, and quickly walked down the street to a local diner. There you sat, scrolling through various medical journals, and hopeful articles regarding technological advancement in the forensic fields. It was at midnight that they sent you packing, in an attempt to close for the evening.
Cheers and screams pulled you back to reality as you crossed the finish line, barely acknowledging the fact you had completed your three miles.
“L/N, L/N! Stop, you did the three.” The instructor jogs over to you patting you on the shoulder, and that’s when you had the sense to turn, trying to spot the remainder of your team, who were only on the first quarter of their final mile.
“How- I’m done?”
“Yeah, you’re a speedy one. This programme will be a breeze for you, provided you can shoot.” He grins at you, and you smile back, breathing a sigh of relief. You were glad you weren’t the worst of the group.
“You’re a doctor, right?” You nod slowly, letting the SSA guide you towards the bleacher.
“Yeah, Dr. Y/N L/N. The medical kind.” He laughs at this, offering you his hand to shake.
“SSA. Jonathan Smith.” You happily take his hand, and shake it, casting your gaze to the rest of the runners who were half-way through their final mile.
“I’ve heard all about you, from Agent Hotchner of course. I was a bit sceptical when he told me you were bypassing a lot of the academy. Now that I’ve met you though, I can see why.” You grin, picking up your water bottle and taking a long gulp.
“I really want to be here, I’m just not sure I can shoot a gun.” You laugh, and he grins.
“Don’t worry, that’s why we’re here.”
Slowly the group assembles at the finish line, the few who had strayed behind catching up, and proving themselves significantly.
“Good job, our final runner finished on just over thirty-eight minutes, so you guys are spot on. Give yourselves a round of applause.” You can see all the others, grinning wide as they applaud themselves, and you can’t help it either. There was a massive sense of achievement in just completing the warm-up.
“Okay, there’s an uneven number so I will take one of you individually, and then we will have two other pairs, who will go with SSA. Alex and SSA. Jameson.” He gestures to two agents who have joined him at the front, offering you small waves at the respective mention of their names.
“L/N, you will be with me.” You make your way over to SSA Smith, as the rest of the four get sorted into their pairs, with their supervisory agent.
“I’m hoping that the individual time will be beneficial for you, and that you might learn quicker this way. Is that okay?” You nod. You were definitely grateful for Smith’s help, he had already proven to be really kind, and dedicated to your training.
“That’s great, thanks sir.”
“Oh, please just call me Jonathan.”
-
“Alright, up first we have firearms.” You grimace slightly which causes Jonathan to laugh.
“It’s not that bad, we just have some basic rules. Treat all firearms as if they are loaded, keep your finger off the trigger until you intend to press it, and never point a firearm at anyone unless you are justified.” You nod, settling into a serious mode.
“Okay, so here’s a holster, you’re going to put that on your belt.” You quickly follow his directions, placing the holster where it feels most comfortable to grab from.
“Is that comfortable? You’ve positioned it further forwards than most people.” You nod, motioning as if you were to reach from it as Jonathan hums in approval.
“Okay, if that’s good I’m going to give you your training weapon and ammunition.” You quickly accept his instruction as he shows you how to load and unload the Glock.
He quickly explains how to release the safety and shoot, and then he offers you the Glock.
“Take a few shots and see how it feels.” You guffaw at him slightly.
“Sir, I-I’ve never shot a gun in my life, I’m going to miss.”
“That’s okay, we call it training for a reason, I’ll stand behind you and help you hold it until you get used to it. I’m not expecting you to hit a target first time, you’re just getting used to it okay?” You nod, stepping up to the mark.
Jonathan, placed himself behind you, resting his hand on top of yours over the weapon to support it until you get used to the recoil.
“When you’re ready give me three shots, as close or as far apart as you wish.” You nod, adjusting your stance and then you pull the trigger.
The gunshot echoes throughout the large warehouse building and you pause, feeling the reverberation against your chest.
“You hit the target, which is great. Two more!” Your eyes scan the target, noticing he was right. To the left of the paper man’s shoulder sat a bullet hole.
In quick succession you took two more shots, more prepared for them this time, and each time you hit just outside of your target.
“That was great! Do you think you could hold it yourself?” You nod, your gaze remaining focused on the target.
You feel Jonathan step away and you prepare to focus, aligning your hand with your target, ensuring that you had foresight. And you took three more shots, this time hitting the target’s left shoulder.
“That’s great Y/N. Put the safety on and holster your weapon for me.” You quickly flip the safety, sliding the weapon into your holster and turn, unable to hold back the wide grin on your face.
“Good job Y/N, are you sure you haven’t done this before?” You shake your head quickly, still grinning like an idiot.
“-Y/N?” You both turn quickly at the sound of a voice interrupting you.
“Spencer?” You grin shyly up at the male towering over you. He was wearing goggles, and ear defenders similar to you.
“How are you? Is this academy training?” You nod at him.
“She’s never shot a gun before, and she still managed to hit the target.” Jonathan pipes up, clearly revelling in your victory. You feel your cheeks heat up.
A smile settles on Spencer’s face, as he studies the target, noticing the three hits, each getting more and more accurate.
“Good job, that’s amazing!” Spencer smiles, his gaze turning to the ground hiding a blush that rivalled your own.
“What are you doing down here, I thought you would be busy with Garcia?”
Spencer sighs, at your question, his grin dropping a bit.
“I like to come down to just blow off steam, after all that’s happened this year-“ Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as you realise, he means Emily’s death. You really wished you would stop walking yourself into discussions involving her, especially considering you knew she was very much alive.
“O-oh well, I’ll let you get on with it.” You stutter quickly, trying to regain your composure.
“Y-yeah, you’ll be stopping by later, won’t you? I-I’ll see you then.” He waves and strides away in quick succession, heading straight for the door as you furrow your brows. You turn to see a grin on Jonathan’s face.
“That wasn’t Dr. Spencer Reid by any chance, was it?” You find yourself confused as you nod.
“Yeah, it was.” Jonathan’s eyes widen slightly at this.
“Isn’t he like, a genius?”
“Well, I mean, I don’t think intelligence can be accurately measured, which would mean that technically ‘genius’ doesn’t exist-“ You trail off as you realise you are rambling.
“-yeah, he’s a genius.”
-
You quickly press the button for the sixth floor, relaxing as the elevator begins to carry towards the BAU.
You were aware that you looked a mess, you were dressed in an FBI sweatsuit, and your hair was damp after your much-needed shower. Luckily for you The Obstacle Course had been your final challenge for the day and running a mile in mud whilst leaping and climbing various obstacles left you yearning the sensation of hot water against stiff muscles.
You felt as though you could sleep, but it was still only three o’ clock and you didn’t want to leave until at least six; it felt mean to go home when the rest of the team would still be stuck in the office.
The elevator dings, pulling you out of your thoughts. Quickly you slung your gym bag over your shoulder and made your way towards the double-glass doors that had seemed so intimidating yesterday.
Your nerves hadn’t exactly worn off, yet, but you certainly felt more relaxed. It was more the people that made you feel anxious than the actual job. You had so many team members, and you wanted to be friends with all of them, but you were perpetually awkward and even the interactions you had with Spencer ended in you both being obscenely flustered.
“Y/N, Hi!” Garcia perks up as you enter the BAU doors, clattering towards you on her heels to engulf you in a warm hug. Though you weren’t one for physical contact, it was weirdly exactly what you needed, and you felt yourself relax in her arms.
“Don’t strangle her Garcia.” You jump slightly at the second voice coming from behind you and you turn to see Agent Rossi, grinning over a cup of coffee. Garcia releases you and you turn to face him, giving him a quick wave.
“You had academy I assume?” You nod quickly, as he takes in your attire.
“U-uhm yes sir.”
He chuckles at your formalities.
“Rossi is fine.” You nod, walking towards the coffee machine and searching for a mug.
“I keep a spare one, you can use that.” You hear Spencer’s voice echo from your left, and you jump yet again.
“You’re a jumpy one doctor.” Garcia grins as you straighten. She taps you affectionately on your nose which makes you jump again, but this time you bang your head against an overhead cabinet.
You gasp on impact, clutching the back of your head as Garcia takes a step back apologising profusely.
Spencer on the other hand rushes towards you, placing his hand over the hand you were using to cradle your head, and another on your shoulder. He slowly walks backwards, guiding you towards the break room table and sits you down.
“Are you okay?” You chuckle lightly, trying to break the awkwardness.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just…. jumpy?” Spencer grins at this. He drops his hand, making his way towards a fridge-freezer.
“I-I’m so sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to, I-“ You take in the frantic woman who sits opposite you.
“Garcia, it’s fine… seriously. It’s just a bump.” Spencer promptly returns to your side and sits in the chair beside you. In his outstretched hand is an icepack wrapped in a kitchen towel, which you gratefully accept.
Garcia’s phone startles you out of your silent reverie, as she receives a notification. Quickly she bustles away, obviously going to take care of it.
-
“Okay, we have an address for Doyle, can you guys hear me, okay?!” Garcia talks loudly down her office phone as Rossi, Spencer, and yourself stand beside her, reading the screens over her shoulder.
Garcia reems off the address as you stare off into space, JJ’s voices quickly pulling you back to reality.
“Morgan and I are headed there now, I’ve called Hotch. Spencer, Rossi, I need you both to go to Declan’s house. I know he went home from school early, but considering how dangerous this takedown is, we want him in FBI custody in case he gets away and flees with the child.”
The phone quickly hangs up after that.
Garcia Rossi and Spencer get up, quickly making their way to the door. Spencer, however, pauses turning towards you as you cluelessly follow him.
“We’re probably going to be here all night; you can stay if you want? If not, go home and get some rest.” You watch as Spencer bounces on the balls of his feet, he quickly gestures for you to walk with him.
“I’m tired but I think I will stay, maybe I can be useful?” Spencer smiles, nodding at you.
“Tell you what, go into Hotch’s office, there’s a pull-out sofa in there. Sleep for a few hours and I can wake you if anything interesting happens?” He quickly jogs towards the elevator, meeting Rossi inside.
“I’ll call Garcia and tell her to let you into the office.” You quickly nod, furrowing your brows as the elevator door shuts.
You turn towards the clattering of heels to your right.
“Spencer texted me, he said you needed to sleep and to help you with the pull-out bed in Hotch’s office?” You smile, nodding at Garcia.
You weren’t too happy with the concept of sleeping whilst everyone else was out risking their lives. However, as soon as Spencer had mentioned the word sleep you had felt a deep desire to curl up in a corner somewhere and doze. The academy had taken a lot out of you, and you were feeling the consequences.
Garcia however, acted like people sleeping in Hotch’s office was a regular thing and she very happily grabbed a blanket and pillows from the cupboard, handing them to you as she unlocked Hotch’s office, making a beeline for the sofa.
“This thing is so handy you know? If anyone’s ever tired on long cases where they have some free time, but not enough to go home, there’s fights over it. Every office in here has one actually.” You stifle a yawn, watching as Penelope quickly unfolds the sofa out into a decent sized double bed.
“Okay, that should be all good. I’ll leave you too it, you can close those blinds or leave them open if you feel more comfortable, and the light switch is just over there.
“Thanks Garcia.” You yawn for real this time, placing the pillows down on the bed and smiling as she waves at you through the window, before disappearing back into her office.
You relish in the silence as you dawdle around the office still holding one pillow in your left arm, hugging it tightly to your chest.
You close the blinds and flick the lights off, sighing as the room settles into darkness. You absolutely needed a nap, and you were glad you had taken the opportunity. It was nearing eight o’clock and after the day being so busy you just needed a reset.
So, you took your blanket and curled up on the sofa bed, hugging your pillow tightly to your chest as you dazed off into a deep slumber.
-
You stir in your sleep as the door to Hotch’s office opens, allowing the bustle of the BAU bullpen to overtake what was the peace-and-quiet of Hotch’s office.
As you open your eyes, you feel the confusion setting in. In your dazed state you couldn’t quite recognise the room you were in.
“Y/N? It’s Spencer, we are having a meeting and you should probably join us.” You sit up on your elbows to see Spencer standing at the end of the room. Nodding you unravelled yourself from the blanket and stood, swaying on your feet slightly.
“Did you sleep okay?”
“Mhmm. Wait. You said a meeting, you were just at Declan’s house, is everything okay?” You pause slightly in the doorway as Spencer walks out of the office. He gestures for you to follow him.
“Declan is gone, but JJ and Morgan have managed to arrest Doyle, he’s being brought into custody here and we are hoping he will be able to give us information on Declan.” You groan, rubbing your eyes with your palms.
“Not the kid…” Spencer nods, silently agreeing with you. Declan had gone through enough in his life, he didn’t need a kidnapping on top of that; no kid did.
“Oh, also, Hotch is back-“ You nod slightly, trying not to stress too much at this concept.
As you approached the roundtable room you could hear the chatter amongst the BAU members, and when they came into view you couldn’t help but smile.
“Dr. L/N, it’s good to have you here, I’m so sorry about all of this.” You smile at Agent Hotchner, shaking your head.
“Don’t worry about it.” The rest of the team offer you kind smiles as you settle in your chairs, ready to begin the meeting.
“Okay, so where’s Morgan?”
“He refused to leave Doyle’s side, so they will arrive together” JJ offers Hotch a slight smile as he nods.
“Okay, in the meantime I would like to talk to you Y/N.” You quickly rise from your chair, following him out of the room, waiting for him to close the door behind you.
“I’m so sorry about all of this, I really am. I know it’s not ideal for you at all.” You quickly attempt to reassure him.
“It’s fine Hotch, really. I want to be here.” He nods, giving you a slight smile.
“I also wanted to let you know in advance, JJ and I have called Emily back, and she will be here any minute. Just prepare yourself, I don’t know how the rest of the team are going to react.”
The sound of a door opening pulls you out of your thoughts and you turn to see JJ.
“I just got a message; Derek is here with Doyle. Emily is five minutes away, Declan tried to call her.”
Hotch simply nods, guiding you back into the roundtable room, and sending you back to your seat.
You chatter a bit with the team trying to catch up on the case.
“So is Doyle responsible for Declan’s disappearance?” You furrow your brows, trying to wrap your head around all this chaos.
“It’s the most likely possibility, yes.” You nod at Spencer’s answer.
The truth of the matter was cases involving children had always hit you the hardest, no child deserved the situation Declan had grown up in. He was the son of an international terrorist, and Emily Prentiss had faked his death in order to give him a better life. Perhaps she was the only one who showed him a glimpse of what caring for a child was like?
Soon enough Derek had joined you, looking incredibly frustrated.
“Doyle’s in the interrogation room, I had a crack at him.” Derek’s face morphs into one of impatience.
“He didn’t do it Hotch, he’s insisting we release him to let him find his son.”
“So, we need to find out if he has any enemies, right?”
“Well Richard Geracey is a known enemy of Doyle; he’s been in the States for a couple weeks. I caught an image of him on a surveillance camera at Declan’s house.” Garcia pipes up, quickly displaying an image on the screen.
“He’s a suspect. Derek, go talk to him.” He stands.
As Derek disappears out of the door an idea hits you.
“Geracey couldn’t have pulled this off all on his own, I mean, Garcia saw two people destroying the security camera.” You keep your eyes glued to JJ as you speak, trying to tell whether or not you were being a hinderance.
“Well statistically the people most likely to be involved in-“
You had barely noticed that Hotch had left the room until he had returned with Derek by his side, cutting off Reid and telling everyone to sit.
“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team.” JJ quickly stands up as you begin to realise what’s happening.
You quickly glance around the room seeing curious looks on everyone’s faces. Uh oh, you didn’t want to be a part of this conversation. Teammates who think their colleague has been dead for 7 months, then find out she’s actually alive are bound to be mad about the whole thing.
“As you all know Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. Both the doctors were able to stabilise her-”
You began to panic slightly, you were in a room with profilers, they were bound to realise you were tense, or uncomfortable, right?
“-and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.” As Hotch reems off the information you were already fully aware of you study the team, noticing the look of realisation on their faces.
“Her identity was strictly need-to-known, and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”
The team remained silent as they gazed up towards Hotch and JJ. Their faces were a mixture of confusion, and what appeared to be anger.
“She’s alive?” Garcia’s voice was meek, and it broke your heart to see the tears forming in her eyes.
Hotch stays quiet at this, averting his gaze.
“But we buried her?”
The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife and all you could do was sit there, fidgeting anxiously in your chair.
“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed towards me.” You offer Hotch a small smile and a nod as his gaze lands on you.
“Any issues?! Yeah, I got issues!” The tone of Derek’s voice causes you to jump slightly, and you felt your cheeks heat up as Spencer’s eyes settled on you.
But they quickly turn to focus on the sound of footsteps entering the room. A dark-haired woman walks through the door. The woman you recognised as Emily Prentiss.
She was gorgeous, her striking hair contrasting against her skin. Her face was set in a solemn look as her eyes trailed over her former teammates.
But you are pulled out of your train of thought by Agent Hotchner, who bustles you up from your seat and walks you towards the door, closing it slightly behind him he offers you a slight smile.
“Y/N, you don’t have to mention your involvement, not if you don’t want to.” You nod at this.
“Are they going to be mad?”
“Probably, but it was a life-or-death situation and I need to stand by my decision.”
“Yes sir.”
“Listen, you’ve had a long day. How about you go back to my office and get some rest, we will be here awhile.” You shake your head quickly at this.
“No, no, sir I’m fine. I really want to stay and help.”
“We can wake you if we need you.” You give in to the idea of sleep, it was the early hours of the morning and you had been up at the crack of dawn the previous day.
“I- okay, fine. But -uhm- I was just wondering, have you looked into Declan’s mother? I mean I know Doyle is his father, but we have no idea who-“ You pause, watching as Hotch offers you a smile.
“We will certainly look into that Y/N, now get some rest.”
And for the second time that night, you curl up onto Hotch’s sofa bed, arms wrapped tightly around a pillow, but you didn’t sleep.
Your mind ran rampant with ideas, and conspiracies as to who could have taken Declan Doyle. You knew that Geracey had something to do with it, he was a known enemy of Doyle’s after some form of conflict in Belfast. But the team had no idea who Declan’s mother is, but it was likely there was some conflict between her and Doyle, considering she wasn’t with them anymore.
You felt so hopeless, you were lacking the means to gather information because Hotch had sent you to a bed at a time where sleep will not come. Out there somewhere was a little boy, being paraded around, likely as a second best to Doyle, since he was in federal custody. That child hadn’t asked to be involved in any of this, he was simply taken from school, from his home.
Gazing at your phone screen you realised half-an-hour had passed, and you were just about to get up out of the bed when there was a light tapping on your door; it was Penelope Garcia.
“Garcia?” You whisper as the silhouette wastes no time in entering the dark room, dragging the light in with her.
“I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep and that considering the rest of the team are still brainstorming in here I could come in for some one-on -one time? You seem like you are a good idea bouncer-offer.” You chuckle at this, moving upright on the bed.
“Yeah sure, absolutely.”
“Okay so first I’m going to catch you up. Basically, Declan’s nanny took him home from school after he contracted food poisoning, so whoever is responsible for his kidnapping tainted food, and got to him on campus.”
“We have established that Geracey is in some sort of conspiracy with a woman, who posed as agents for the next shift at surveying Declan, they killed the nanny, and the actual agents and then took the child.”
“A woman?”
“Yes, so we got thinking about women who have had relations to Doyle, and of course Hotch had mentioned you talking about his mother. So, Emily managed to give us a compiled list and now we are trying to break Doyle, but it doesn’t seem to be working. They have been in there for the past fifteen minutes.” You nod slightly, turning to the door which swung open suddenly.
“Y/N?” You recognised the voice as Spencer’s, watching as he stepped into the room, taking not of Garcia.
“She told you everything?” You nod as Spencer gives you a tight-lipped smile.
Garcia seems to get some form of signal from him because she quickly makes an excuse to leave, bustling past Spencer and towards her ‘bat cave’.
“I know this is -uhm- a lot to ask, but we were wondering if you would interview Doyle?”
-
Story Masterlist - (1) - (2)
Authors Note: Wow! I hope you guys are enjoying this? I made reader's background quite specific as it made it easier to weave in bonding between her and that characters. I also love having fun with how lucky she is for all of this to happen to her?!?! I mean it's not 100% realistic (but then again, no Spencer Reid fanfic is?) but either way, go get it girl! <3
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