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jaeyunniesimp · 2 years ago

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I’M A FOOL TO WANT YOU (s.jy) part two part one part three

pairing: badboy!jake x fab!reader

wc: 2.7k

tw: angst, mentions of family issues, cursing, not proofread (lmk if there’s more!)

a/n: sorry for taking so long to post! i wanted this to be longer but also didn’t want to keep y’all waiting nshdjs leave feedback!

“pity me, i need you. i know it’s wrong, it must be wrong”

The darkness provided by your closed eyelids where suddenly redden by the sunlight peaking through the window, disturbing your much deserved sleep. You fluttered your eyes open, forgetting the position your were in, suddenly meeting a male figure lying next to you.

Should you wake up? You figured it was best to go back to sleep and wait for him to get up first instead, but unfortunately that thought was cut short.

— What the fuck? — Your brother bursts, seeing you and Jake lying down together. — Get away from her!

— What? — You said in shock.

— Calm down, man, we didn’t do anything. — Jake answered, his eyes still closed.

Heeseung suddenly grasped your arm, pulling you away to a corner where your conversation couldn’t be heard.

— Are you insane? I’m warning you, you don’t get involved with Jake Sim, are you listening? — He said through gritted teeth.

— Get off me! Why the fuck do you even care? I do whatever the fuck I want, with whoever I want to! — You said, removing your arm from his grip, rubbing the now red area. — And we didn’t do anything, jerk.

— And it should stay that way, he’s no good.

— He’s your friend. — You argued

He rolled his eyes and went to Jake’s direction, purposely bumping into your shoulder once again this week.

— C’mon, man, let’s go. — He motions for Jake to get up, which he only grunts to and turns to his side.

— I’ll take a shower and then we’re leaving. — Heeseung said as he left the living room.

You made your way to the kitchen to boil some water to make tea, humming some song. After a few minutes of peace, you heard footsteps approaching, hoping it’d be Sunoo, but it was the tall blonde haired boy that you slept next to.

You tried not to mind his presence, but he was leaning on the counter next to you, much to close for you to pretend you didn’t notice.

— Want tea? — You asked without turning to look at him, trying to break the awkward silence.

— When did you stop crushing on me? — He asked, suddenly, with a smug grin on his face.

You almost choked on your own saliva at his statement. How did he know that? You never told Heeseung about your middle school crushes, and you sure as hell never told HIM.

— W-What? — You look at him shocked.

— G’morning — A wild Sunoo appears, which made you jump, scared.

— Fuck! You scared the shit out of me! You can’t creep up on people like that! — You stated, hand resting on top of your rapidly beating heart.

— I didn’t creep up..? Geez, just wanted some water — He answered, making his way to your fridge.

— He’s right, though. Are you nervous, Y/N? — Jake asked, with that fucking smirk on his face.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, turning your back to the obnoxiously handsome boy. You grabbed your mug, now filled with hot tea and turned back to face him.

— I have no reason to be nervous. — You answered, staring him dead in the eyes.

You went back upstairs to your room, leaving the boy behind, but Sunoo quickly following you, eager to know what happened.

— Did you… sleep together? — He whispered, like someone could hear him.

— We shared the couch, that’s it. — You shrugged, unlocking your phone and avoiding your friends gaze.

He just stared at you, wide eyed.

— Don’t you realize how weird that is? Didn’t it feel, i don’t know, awkward? — He asked, sitting down in front of you.

— It was really awkward, but I was still half drunk and very sleepy, so I didn’t care. Hopefully I’ll never see him again. — You answered, placing your phone down on the bed and meeting your friends gaze, as you hugged your knees, resting your back on the headboard.

— Are you sure you mean that? — He asked, lifting an eyebrow.

— I don’t know — You said after a heavy sigh. — I had a crush on him when we were in seventh grade or something, but he was really different from who he is now. He was really sweet and kinda nerdy, but we were never really friends, we just saw each other sporadically on hallways and stuff.

— I didn’t know you went to the same school — He tried to make the mood lighter.

— Yeah, I almost forgot about it myself, but he’s kind of hard to not recognize. I wonder what happened…

Suddenly, you hear engine sounds and realize your parents got home.

— What? They can’t be this early — You muttered to yourself in pure fear.

— Your parents? Do they have, like, a problem with you bringing friends over? — Sunoo got up and watched you peek through your bedroom window, trying to see if it was really them.

— No, they don’t, but I have a problem with them being here. Fuck… — You quickly moved to grab your things and passed Sunoo’s his. — Let’s go.

— What? Now? — He held his phone next to his chest, baffled. — Won’t it be weird for us to leave while they arrive?

— That’s why we’re going out the window.

Oh he was not loving that. You already brought him to your parents house without consent, and now you wanna flee out the window? Fuck no, Sunoo’s prince hands weren’t made to do dirty jobs.

— Yeah, I’m definitely NOT doing that. — He scoffed.

— Don’t be a pussy! Come on, they’re gonna be here any minute! — You tried to argue.

— That’s insane, Y/N! — His arms were now above his head, frustrated.

You already had one leg out the window, leaning next to the rusty, probably unsafe, fire escape.

— Y/N? Are you home? — You hear your Mother yell from afar.

— Sunoo! — You say through gritted teeth.

Suddenly your room’s door is swung open, your Mom witnessing the scene of half your body inside your room, the other half outside the window, and a boy standing next to you. You smile at her sheepishly and the boy brings his palms to his face.

— I don’t even wanna know… — She stated and turned on her heel, going back downstairs.

You grunted loudly, getting back into the house, muttering an annoyed “stay here” to your friend.

— Mom? — You ask as you hurry down the steps. — It’s not what it looks like! — You said almost ironically.

You abruptly stop talking when you get to the living room, realizing your brother and his friend still hadn’t left, and were leaning against the kitchen counter laughing with your Father.

— Great. — You whisper to yourself.

— Told you she was still here! Y/N, come say hi to Father! I told them you wanted to spend Christmas at home with family, so they cut their vacation short to see you! — Heeseung said with a fake soft tone to his voice.

— What? — At this point your jaw was hurting from all the clenching it’d been doing.

— Unfortunately I can’t be here for Christmas, but I’m sure you’ll have fun without me. — He smiled at you devilishly.

— Excuse us just a minute — You said as you grabbed your brother by the arm, pulling him to a corner, reliving the scene from earlier in the morning.

— What the fuck is wrong with you? I don’t need to be around their arguing on Christmas day! — You pushed him lightly on the chest.

— Then stay away from my friends.

— What? That’s what this is about? Oh my God Heeseung, how many times will I have to tell you that nothing fucking happened between us for you to let it go?!

— Heeseung? Did you know that Jake and Y/N shared a few classes in middle school? — Your Mom yelled from the kitchen.

You rolled your eyes at her statement, and went back to the kitchen, ignoring your brother.

— Sorry Mom, Heeseung likes to do things behind my back, but I have a winter camp thing at college and won’t be able to make it home on Christmas day. By the way, Sunoo upstairs is my friend, he’s coming with me to camp and we have some preparations to do for… some stuff. — You smiled and went back upstairs, quickly grabbing your friend and not even letting him introduce himself or say goodbye.

“but right or wrong, i can’t get along without you”

You wish you could blame someone else, but spending Christmas alone was your own choice. Part of you felt guilty, but you knew that being away from home would spare you a good amount of headaches. You knew your parents would start bickering over something small, that would turn into a huge argument, everyone saying things they’d regret, hurting each other while pointing out their insecurities, picking one another apart.

But being alone wasn’t so fun either. No gifts, no Christmas dinner, your roommate was home with their family, and you had absolutely no one to call. Maybe if things were better with your brother, but he was just a selfish brat. Sunoo had plans too, so it was basically just you and you thoughts.

You figured it was too consuming being in your room alone, so you decided to go for a walk. Grabbed your fluffiest coat, your The Neighbourhood beanie (yeah ill name drop all the good stuff), some boots, and you were soon on your way. It wasn’t snowing, but the ground was still painted white.

The sun was setting already, and the sky looked marvelous. For a second, your mind was empty, just enjoying the view. You spotted a café that was actually still open, you figured it must be fate.

You were a bit far from campus, which made you somewhat relieved, a change of scenery is always welcome. The smell of coffee and chocolate mixed in the air, the room being way warmer than the street outside, you felt instantly at ease.

You ordered your hot chocolate and found yourself a spot on the corner next to the window. You couldn’t be more grateful you brought a book, it was the perfect setting. You were reading White Nights by Dostoyevsky (highly recommend btw balled my eyes out crying) feeling a now unfamiliar calmness. It was a better Christmas day than you’d hoped.

The night had already dawned and basically a blizzard started happening. You were a bit worried, but you remembered you had nothing nor anybody to come home to. The few people that were on the street either started hiding or playing with the snowflakes.

You spotted a boy sprinting into the café to avoid the snow, he looked cute. He took his coat out and turned around, facing your direction. It couldn’t be. Is Jake Sim fucking stalking you or something? Why is he everywhere?

He raised an eyebrow at the sight of you, and started walking towards your spot. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck” was all the voice in your head managed to say.

— Thought you were at winter camp. — He mocked, sitting down next to you.

— Oh no, I’m not waiting for anyone, of course you can sit! — You said sarcastically.

He laughed and you were sure your heart skipped a beat. His smile was the prettiest you’d ever seen.

— Sorry — He said, still smiling.

What? Jake Sim apologized to you?

— What did you say? — You asked, smiling wide, trying to mock him. — Oh my God, Jake Sim is being nice to me! It really must be Christmas.

— Shut up — He pleaded, bumping your shoulder. — I’m always nice to you.

— No, you’re always a brat, like my brother.

The room fell silent for a few seconds.

— What are you doing here? — You mustered up the courage to ask him.

— My Mom is somewhere with some guy she met last week, my Dad’s a jerk and I don’t have siblings. Was taking a walk, because it’s better than being alone, and it started snowing. — He answered.

That was definitely something you didn’t know. You somewhat expected him to have a fucked up family, since he changed so drastically and quickly, but knowing that it’s true it’s just sad. You felt sorry for him, and felt a little guilty for complaining about your parents bickering.

— I’m sorry… — You said looking down, playing with your fingers.

— It’s okay, I’m used to it. Do you want more hot chocolate? — He asked.

— Oh it’s okay, you don’t have to. — You shrugged.

— I’ll get you another one. — He said and flashed you a smile.

You watched him as he went to the counter, smiling at the cashier. You were almost hypnotized. How could you want someone so badly? You quickly shifted your gaze to your book, pretending not to look at him.

He came back with two cups, one for you and one for him. You sipped your hot chocolates in silence, stealing a few glances from each other now and then. You didn’t want to ask, but you knew you had to.

— Why did you ask me that the other day? About me having a crush on you? — You finally managed to say, very quietly, heat rising up your cheeks.

He looked at you with puppy like eyes, which you’d never seen from him. He laughed shyly, which was also new for you, coming from Jake.

— You remember Jungwon? — He asked.

— Wonnie? Of course I do, he was one of my best friends. — You answered, confused.

— Well, we were really good friends too, and in like, eighth grade or something, I told him I had a crush on you and he egged me on to confess. I didn’t want to and then he told me you two were friends and that you had a crush on me too. I never really gathered courage to do so, though. — He confessed, sighing.

You were definitely shocked. Lost for words, mouth agape, your hands suddenly weren’t cold anymore.

— What? You knew who I was? — You asked after what felt like minutes of awkward silence.

— Of course I did, you were cute and you kept looking at me in class, and when I looked back you’d look away, it was adorable. — He leaned in a little closer.

You were completely visibly blushed by now, and somehow you just wanted more of him. You just stared at him and didn’t answer, not even realizing how long you were silent for.

— Am I making you nervous? — He almost whispered.

— A little… — You managed to speak even more quietly.

He leaned in even closer and you were sure for a second that he was going to kiss you. He stretched his arm, almost brushing his nose against your and grabbed your book from the table.

— What are you reading? — He asked, completely ignoring the fact that he almost kissed you.

— A book… — You almost couldn’t answer from all the nervousness.

— No shit — He laughed and looked at you.

You laughed embarrassed, hiding your face with your palms. He noticed you were getting even more nervous, and slid a hand softly on top of your thigh, squeezing it softly.

— What’s it about? — He asked, never breaking eye contact with you.

Even though you thought being in this position would make you even more nervous, you found your self relaxed now. You chatted for hours, not just about your book, but about life. He definitely felt like a different person from the bad boy you see around campus.

taglist: @loves0ft @iloveoceaneyesss @rkefjgjg @judeduartewannabe

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notmrskennedy · 4 years ago

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Noticed

Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

A/N - Howdy! Here’s another little something from my drafts. It’s a draft and a half again so be gentle with it. Also, I’m touch averse and I would be so happy to find someone I wasn’t upset with touching. But c’est la vie! I hope y’all enjoy!

Summary - The touch averse agent starts getting touchy....

W/C - 2.5k

Warnings - none I think, but lmk if there is something

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If Morgan was being honest with himself, he thought you were dying. Or maybe ill. Or so feverish you’d abandoned every single principle you had. Because he’d been there that first day of yours, waltzing up from the coffee machine to see you nervously trailing behind Hotch. It was painful to watch, he remembers, so terribly nervous you’d envy the kid on one of his bad days.

He had smiled at you and stirred his coffee and remained optimistic that someone so obviously terrified would be a decent field agent. (You’d been decent and then some, especially in an interrogation room). There’d been one non-committal wave—distinctly reminiscent of a certain genius—and the first full sentence of, “I’m sorry, but I just don’t do the touching thing. Handshakes included.”

Every little touch plagues you. You’re six inches away at all times, lest someone accidentally bump into you or get the wrong idea that you might be willing to brush shoulders. There’s no friendly pats. No high fives. Certainly no hugs. Garcia is furious in her attempt to loosen you up—to no avail—but Morgan knows better than to push. Something makes you hate skin to skin contact and he’s not looking to share trauma stories with you. Not yet.

So this, Morgan thinks as he wanders into the bullpen while stirring his coffee, is a sign that you’ve lost your mind.

He watches as you carefully extend one palm to one Dr. Spencer Reid. Perched on the edge of his desk, you’re a regular fixture, just another cute figurine to add to the collection. It’s the end to some wild discussion he could hear in the kitchenette, full of flailing limbs and butchered sentences. Everyone always thought it was cute, if you stripped away how irritating it could be.

This is the point where you two are caught up in whatever moment you’re having, so much so that you extend an upturned palm between the two of you. Reid threads his hands through his hair, stunned at your peace offering. Or maybe an offering of something more than friendship. Morgan assumes its something more; not only because you have the softest grin he’s ever seen, but because your fingers are practically begging the kid to hold your hand.

Reid’s careful in how he asks his question—Morgan doesn’t know what it is, but he can just tell. The wide eyes. The scared contemplation. The are you sure parting the kid’s lips.

Grinning and blushing, you just wiggle your fingers. Murmur something that Morgan isn’t allowed to hear. Something only for Spencer. There’s surprise before he grips onto your hand, wriggling all ten combined fingers together. You giggle as you spin him around in his desk chair and get tangled up.

Dropped jaw and grinning, Morgan can’t believe you, so touch averse you, are willing engaging in such risky behaviour. There’s a weird few moments when he wants to remind both of you to wear protection in such endeavours.

And as he’s wondering if hands need condoms, the two of you let go and move on like nothing’s happened. You go back to punctuating your points with your flailing hands. Spencer goes back to distracting from his blush with paperwork.

Morgan goes to get more coffee, trying to stop imaging that you two were his kids, growing up without his consent. And maybe also the hand condoms.

It’s shortly after JJ’s wedding—about midnight as the cleaning crew are picking up the straggling drunks—both Hotch and Rossi notice. They’re leaned up against the bar, each smoking a cigar, watching a slightly tipsy you teach an awkwardly sober Spencer Reid how to swing dance.

It’s no secret that you and Reid get on like a house on fire, two nerds that couldn’t shut up about whatever weird ass shit was on your brains. Rossi never made much move to care. Hotch was too stressed to think about what the pair of you did off company time. Everyone, them included, imagined that what time you did spend together was three feet apart. In museums. Wherever. No one questioned what kind of weird nerd shit you did, especially stuff that they couldn’t really be bothered to care about.

Now, they’re forced to carefully consider the implications of how touchy you’re getting. With Reid.

He’s even more gangly and uncoordinated than normal, as Hotch and Rossi watch on, getting thrown around like a rag doll. It’s kind of adorable, Rossi thinks and shares a well meaning look with Hotch. The two of you would be cute and he’s hoping that you do get together. Rossi always knows about these things, even if Hotch is positive that you two are just friends. And as two professional gentlemen do, they made a bet.

Twenty bucks.

Your laugh—one that no one gets tired of hearing—echoes around Rossi’s whole yard, even into his house. Reid’s voice is about two octaves too high as you spin him around on his wobbly feet. You go from three feet apart to chest to chest and back again. Rossi remembers high school dances vaguely and Hotch absently thinks about Hayley’s old infatuation with Grease.

Rossi takes another long drag from his cigar, grateful for the indisputable proof that you two are shacking up. There is no way that two people so touch averse could be touching this much without prior exposure. The yard is a ruckus of both of your laughters, year after year of awkwardness falling off you both in sheets. They’re no denying you two shut in nerds are finally having some fun.

It’s warming both Hotch and Rossi’s hearts.

And their bet.

Penelope notices next. Who knew that such a simple interaction could leave her speechless? Stammering and stuttering over not even a full minute of insanity.

She didn’t know how she’d gotten sick, or what she’d come down with, but the only thing that was keeping her in her work chair was you. And the endless buckets of soup that you kept pouring down her throat. Without a case—thank god—for the last couple days, all that you’ve done is sit in the bat cave, keeping her and her soup warm.

It’s as you are finishing some corny ass joke that she thinks how sweet you are. How loving. Penelope’s love language has always been touch—she’s given too many hugs to count—but it’s taken her a minute to figure out yours. And as she stares into the chicken soup in her hands, she realises that it’s everything you do for her. Your love is literally palpable.

It’s in the bright keychains you bring back. Or the crazy pens. Or the way you always drive her home after drinking.

As she’s opening her mouth to tell you, tell you just how much she appreciates everything, when Reid pops his head in, whole body following. He’s got too much of a grin this early. But when he’s far enough into the room, he spreads his fingers out over your shoulder and squeezes. Says something about a case and you follow behind him with a wave of your hand at Penelope. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like Penelope hasn’t been the one furiously trying to break you out of your shell. The predetermined first to get a hug in the office.

You’re still up and still waving and by the time she’s got her wits about her, she’s asking, “You let Reid touch you?”

The empty room and the closing door don’t answer.

JJ is nearly the last to find out. Well, your little touching relationship with Spencer has been the only topic of gossip between anyone for the last six weeks. They can’t believe they hadn’t picked up on the little bits of affection passed between the two of you.

Hand touches. Shoulder squeezes. Quick brushes. The mystical hug Morgan claims he once saw.

For the rest of the world, you and Spencer were nothing but friendly. Maybe even best friendly. To the team of highly trained profilers who had been friends with the pair of you for a combined 15 years, this was marriage material. This was you and Spencer screaming the pair of you had eloped.

You two crazy kids had to be together, but the team was left to sussing it out for themselves. Neither of you two would ever say anything, never give anything up. But surely, the three of them—using Penelope would be cheating of course—could figure out when you two had started up. Because you had to have. There was no way all of this was just friendly.

And it isn’t. That much is clear when JJ gets a phone call from you while she’s looking a crime scene over for what feels like the gazillionth time. Some un-sub with the usual cocktail of daddy issues, anger issues, and a healthy dose of narcissism.

It’s rare you call anyone without good reason. You aren’t the type to just chat—everyone has speculated you got enough of that from Spencer. And once JJ says hello, you start bawling.

You’re sobbing and JJ has no idea what to do.

“Y/n, y/n,” she tries, hoping you’ll calm down enough to breathe properly. “You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s—it’s Spencer,” you hiccup. JJ can hear you sniffling into your sleeves. Can hear the blinkers go as you change lanes. “He’s not answering—not answering his phone. And he said he’d—that he’d call, but he hasn’t. And JJ something’s wrong.”

By the way your breath hitches and your sobs crackle into the phone, JJ knows exactly how bad it has to be. Spencer, however, is supposed to be following up a lead with Emily. Some paint huffer in his mom’s garage—nothing more than a routine witness report. She almost can’t believe something would go wrong.

“What happened? Where are you?”

“JJ,” you sniffle before the flood gates open again, “I can just feel it. Something’s wrong.”

JJ’s mind scrambles. As much as you played it off, you had a sixth sense. Every time, every countable time, someone got hurt, you knew before it happened. You had a gut for these things and JJ didn’t want to think about how bad this was going to be. How bloody. So she scrambles for her car and doesn’t wait for the other detectives to figure it out.

JJ’s halfway to the witness’s house when you make it there yourself. You’re still on the phone, doing a horrible attempt at trying to keep each other calm. You’ve traded the sobs for hiccups, thankfully. JJ can hear you climbing the porch stairs. She’s taking corners at 65 miles an hour.

Nothing seems fast enough when JJ hears the phone clatter to the floor and the shout of “oh my god, Spencer!”

Nothing is fast enough when you’re sobbing out, “You can’t die on me like this.”

Nothing is fast enough when JJ quietly but distinctly hears, “I love you too much for you to fucking die, Spencer Reid.”

Spencer Reid always thinks he’s the last to find out. He’s blunt and oblivious and thinks too much to just see what’s in front of his face. He was so sure they had all seen how in love he was, just how desperately he was clinging to the hope they wouldn’t notice. If they didn’t notice, you wouldn’t. Not while wearing the same sort of blinders he wore.

But once everything had come out? He was positive everyone else had known. That he’d come into work one morning and there would be a cake engraved with the words, “Congrats on Shacking Up!”

It never happened. No cake. No lights. No surprises. No one seemed to know or notice or anything. Spencer and you went on like nothing had changed—it really hadn’t anyway. He liked to laugh when you told him the two of you had been practically dating since the first time he’d offered to take you to a Korean film festival.

Two years later and he’s become very aware of you. And also the ache. All of the very dull and consistent ache in his body. Another scar to add to the collection, he bitterly thinks, out of anaesthesia enough to know that he’s in a hospital. That he’s been hurt. That someone’s holding his hand.

It’s calloused and soft and just perfectly latched onto his. A hand he’d waited to hold for too long. One that he’d be holding for the rest of his life.

Attached to the hand is you, sleeping haphazardly between his bed and a plastic chair. Your fingers are tangled in his, head rested on the crook of your arm and the bed. There’s too much of you curled up in a chair. It’s one of his favourite bits about you, just how dedicated you could be. How you were always there when he woke up and always would be.

He smiles and chuckles despite the pain in his ribs. You wake with a start, one startled gasp followed by a shuddery exhale as you realise again where you are. That nothing’s changed. That everything’s changed.

Through lidded eyes, he watches your eyes light up, matching you grin for grin. He watches the anger flash across your face for not even a second, and he knows exactly how bad you want to murder him for scaring you so bad.

Instead, you press frantic kisses to the back of his knuckles, message fully received. You missed him. You’d been terrified. You’d cried so hard, he can still feel the salt on your lips.

“Spencer,” you breathe, giving his hand one more kiss for good measure and pressing his knuckles to your cheek. “God, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“I’m alive, y/n, I promise,” he whispers back. Hoarse and adorably okay. It’s one thing to expect to get shot going after un-subs. It’s another to get attacked by a PCP addled grandmother.

He wiggles a finger against your cheek. Even though he can’t see your red rimmed eyes or the dark tear tracts on your cheeks, he can feel the tear that pools on his finger. But before he can reassure you one more time, you shush him and tell him to get some sleep and that you’ll both worry about this later. Maybe over jell-o.

He grins.

The team, visiting the next morning, doesn’t have the heart to wake up either of you. Reid looks happy for the first time in—years—with you carefully curled into his side. Sure, there’s a scratchy hospital gown and some pesky lines overriding everything, but it’s cute. No denying that. Thank god you two knuckleheads are finally being open about it. Even if you’re sleeping.

Emily smiles to herself as she readjusts her sling. Morgan and JJ are trading exclamations of shock, while Hotch passes Rossi twenty dollars. You readjust and Reid’s arm moves to rest across your cheek. JJ isn’t subtle when she takes a photo, sniggering.

Emily is even less subtle when she snorts. “I guess I can finally let the cat out of the bag.”

Everyone perks up; she swears she sees Reid open an eye.

“Nearly six months ago, y/n drunkenly confessed to dating Reid. She’s a real wild card on tequila, let me tell you.”

“You knew?” Morgan screeches, “and you didn’t say anything?”

Emily shrugs, winces with her busted up shoulder. “Does it matter? Didn’t we all know?”

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #mgg #mgg fluff #fluff

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spencerhotchner · 4 years ago

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Alternative {spencer reid}

Chapter 1

summary: Since quarentine was announced, Y/N decided to rewatch all seasons of Criminal Minds. On a lonely night she wished she could be in that universe instead of this. What happens when she wakes up in 2008 in Quantico?

warnings: angst, a very confused reader, regular cm stuff and my grammar (if you find anything else pls lmk

word count: 2k

a/n: i have this idea while watching a movie about parallel universes and all, so i just wanted to try this out. it will be a 10 parts series! im not really sure about this, i think i kinda hate it but im posting it anyways lmao. i hope you gonna enjoy!

series masterlist

part 1 | part 2

You woke up feeling dizzy and with a major headache. At first you thought it was because you drank a whole lot of wine last night but then you saw yourself in a room you never saw before. You stoop up quickly trying to understand where you were and how did you end up there. You were sure that you have never been in this place before, and it was scaring you that you showed up in there.

There was a mirror nailed to the wall in from of you almost forcing you to look at your own body, that made you notice that you were still wearing the same clothes from last night, but you weren’t home. Not being home was odd given by the fact you stayed there with your family and two friends you invited over, since there’s a whole freaking pandemic going on and you for sure did not want to get sick or get other people sick.

“Did I get kidnapped?” you think out loud. “No, I just watch too much Criminal Minds.” you tell yourself, trying to calm down.

You reach for the face mask placed on the nightstand, getting ready to leave this random place and go home. You tried not to freak out when you realized your phone was gone and the only cellphone in there was probably as old as your grandmother. You dialed your moms number about five times and all of them went on voicemail, making you curse mentally.

This can’t be happening. Not to me.

As soon as you leave the apartment you were in you realized you weren’t in your hometown, definitely not. It was crowded, like, really crowded and no one was wearing any face masks. Where did the freaking pandemic go? You wondered while you felt like a misfit for being the only one wearing it.

“Excuse me, can you tell me where I am?” you ask an old lady walking by.

“You’re on Main Street, sweetheart.” she says.

“No, um, I mean the city.” you watched as the old lady looked at you with a funny face, as if she was calling you crazy on her mind.

“We’re in Quantico, dear.”

“Quantico?” you repeat, mostly for yourself then for her. The lady started at you like you were an alien. “Thank you so much, ma’am.”

The air started to go low on you, how did you get to Virginia, anyway? That was across the country from where you lived, Bellevue in Washington state. You started lost walking, trying to understand what the hell was going on. It felt like you were on a parallel universe, like you were in a dream but couldn't wake up and it sure felt very real. You stoped a jornal shop taking a lot at the last newspaper in there, trying to figure if something happened that you were missing. However, nothing reported there shocked you, what did, though, was the date.

July 1st, 2008

You were about to ask someone about it when you bumped into a blonde woman, falling on the ground. As soon as you looked up, you almost chocked yourself. If the day was already weird, this was even weirder. A.J Cook was standing right in front of you with a concerned look. You couldn't really say anything, just staring at her like she wasn't real. It was weird seeing her in front of you after only seeing her through screens.

“I’m so sorry!” she said as she offered a hand for you to get up. “Are you ok?”

“I- um, yes! I’m fine.” you san, getting the dirt out of your outfit. “I’m a big fan of yours! Wish I had my phone here to take a picture but- sorry.“ you stoped talking, realizing she probably doesn’t care.

“Big fan of me? Wow, howcome somebody’s a fan of me?” she sounds surprised.

“Well, you’re on Criminal Minds.” you say as it was obvious.

She looked at you as if you were out of your mind. Not that you weren't thinking otherwise at the moment, anyways.

“I’m on what now?” she asked.

Maybe you got confused and she was the wrong person, but she looked so much like her to not be her. If they were not the same person, then definitely twins. This was so weird, once again, you found yourself asking ‘what the hell’ mentally.

“You’re JJ, Jennifer Jareau, FBI Agent and all.” you say, trying one more time. “Behaviour Analysis Unit...”

“Yea, that‘s me.” she let a nervous laugh comes out of her mouth. “How do you know me?”

‘This is weird’ you thought. How does she not understand where you know her from? Literally Criminal Minds, like you said at first. ‘Maybe this is all a dream.’

“I saw you on tv” you try.

“Oh, I see! You like law enforcement?” she asks you.

“Oh yes, I’m in law-school to be a judge someday.” you answered. “The show, all of it just makes me wanna put all them bad guys in jail.” you say, laughing a bit.

“The show...? What?” you hear her whisper, but decide to ignore it. “What’s the mask about?” JJ asks, making you look at her surprised.

“Um, covid-19?” you say like it’s obvious, because it is.

“Oh, sure...” she smiles as she says it, almost like she's only agreeing because she won't discuss it. “Great talking to you, really, but I gotta go, FBI duty calls.” she jokes.

You smile at her watching carefully as she picks up her phone from her pocket and pick up a call. That phone looked awfully old, like 2000’s old. Why would a famous actress have that kinda of phone? Then, you looked around trying to understand more about what was going on. It was all too out of place.

First, nobody wearing masks, not even a single person but you. Second, you were in a city in which is miles away from your own. Third, a famous actress acted like she’s nobody. And fourth, the date on the calendar said 2008.

If it wasn’t just impossible I would say I time travelled into Criminal Minds universe.

After standing there for literal 10 minutes trying to figure it out what you were going to do, you decide to go to the police department. After all, you may have been abducted, right? Because you didn’t have any knowledge of the place, you took quite some time to get there. As soon as you got there you sigh in relief, that has been quite a walk and damn, you were tired of this situation.

“Excuse me, ma’am, can you help me?” you ask to the lady standing behind the counter.

“Sure, dear. What do you need?” she looks up at you, taking her glasses of her face.

“I think I might have been abducted?” you start. “I woke up in this random apartment.”

“Maybe you had a one-night stand.” she said putting back her glasses.

“No! I am sure I didn’t because first of all, there’s a pandemic going on, second of all I was in Bellevue in Washington state when I went to sleep.” you yell, involuntarily, desperate to make her believe in you.

“Miss, I’m gonna need you to calm down or you will be escorted out of the building. You’re probably on drugs, there's nothing we can do for you.”

“Fuck you.” you say as you watch her face get all red.

Frustrated. That could define what you were feeling, scared and worried could do the work, as well. What were you going to do now? Go to the FBI to see if they could freaking understand why you simply appeared in Quantico? Didn't sound like a bad idea in your mind as you decided to just try it out. After all, you were already pretty screwed up, it would worth a shot.

You reached for your back pocket, hoping that the money you shoved in there more than a week ago would still be in there. Bingo! You pull out a 20 dollar bill out of it and the next thing you know you’re getting into a cab asking him to take you to the FBI. Now that’s something you never thought would happen. The travel was quite quick, in 20 minutos you were standing in front of that big isolated building. It looked like it was taken straight out of your favorite show, that was insane.

The wind blew hard on you when you got out of the vehicle, making you shiver a little, that reminded you that you did not have any clothes nor money to buy more. God, you did not even have where to go. You didn't even get the chance to get into the building as a big man steps in front of you, blocking your way.

“Miss, you're not allowed in this building.” he said without much expression.

“But, sir-” you started, as you saw he was about to interrupt you, you go on. “Ive been abducted and I don't know where or how the hell did I get in here, I’m completely hopeless... Please.” you beg him.

He started at you for a couple of seconds, that felt like centuries for you, just to sigh at you.

“Ok, follow me.” he said. “Do not make me regret this.”

“I-I won’t, sir.” you were quick to answer.

The agent asked another man to cover up for him as he led me into the building. Once again you found yourself admired of how much it did look like a Criminal Minds episode in there, if you weren't totally desperate you'd be amused. Soon, you two were out of the elevator on floor 8, leading with the words Behavior Analysis Unit quite big.

“Can you take her to Agent Jareau, please?” the man said to someone who passed by, who simply agreed.

Now, that's a funny coincidence, there's actually an Agent Jareau in the BAU.

You followed the woman with questioning trying to stay calm when you saw Matthew Gray Gubler sitting on a desk reading some book in Reid style, almost like he was Spencer himself. If you had any doubts you were going crazy, that was the final proof. You stoped walking, taking a stare at him and then at the Agent that stared a you like you were an alien.

“Is there something wrong?” she asks you. “Miss, are you ok?”

You were unable to answer for a few seconds when you finally opened you mouth, still trying to figure it out how to say what was on your mind without sounding completely insane.

“Is that Dr. Spencer Reid?”

And that was all you’re able to say because as soon as you let his name out of your mouth he looked up at you, trying to somehow recognize you. You were sure, that time, that you never looked - and sounded - as insane as right now.

“Yes, that's me.” he answers.

His voice was the last thing you could hear before everything go black. Maybe you were finally going to wake up. Maybe.

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lovenhlboys · 4 years ago

Text

From a Distance (E.Pettersson X Reader)

Chapter 2

Masterlist

Want to be on the tag list?: Tag list form

A/n: Hi!! Here’s chapter 2!!! This chapter is from Elias’s POV, the rest of the chapters will be a combo of the two (and probably one or part of one) will be from Brock’s POV eventually😁 these first two chapters are more just setting up everything. please let me know what you think! All feedback is appreciated!!!!

Warnings: A LOT of cursing (sorry...sorta), Petey not listening, might be a little cheesy (I’m not sorry), an attempt at Swedish (pls let me know if It’s wrong), I think that’s it, lmk if I missed one

Paring: Elias Pettersson X Fem!Reader

Genere: enemies-ish —>friends —> lovers

Legend: on chapter 1

Word Count: 1.8k (this is the shortest one)

Summary: Yeah so, Elias has a “teenage-reminiscent” crush on the one girl he was terrified to like, so he makes a plan to just be her friend, it doesn’t go to well, so he makes a new one.

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PRESENT

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Petty had a crush on Y/N. Y/N Boeser, the one fucking girl he can't have. His best friend's little sister.

When he met her at the mid-point of his rookie year, he'd already heard a lot about her. Brock had told him so many stories and he learned so much about the infamous Y/N, and the more he learned, the more he really liked her. Then there were the other stories Brock told him, the ones that included guys. One he recalls quite clearly.

November, 2018

They were sitting on Brock’s couch, watching One Tree Hill,

“Petey, have I ever told you about Chad?” Brock started.

“No, why?”

“Chad was my best friend in middle school, all the way up to my senior year. Then he wanted to date Y/N.”

“What do you mean ‘up to’ your senior year?” His attention was taken away from the show completely at the mention of her name.

“Well, I told him I didn’t want him to go out with her, but that it was her choice, not mine. So he asked her out, and they dated for like 3 months. Then he broke her heart.”

“What did you do?” Elias was curious.

“Oh, I broke his face”

Elias was shocked, he’d never known Brock to be anything but a (slightly obnoxious) ray of sunshine. “...oh, uh... so what happened to Chad after that?”

“I stopped being friends with him, and so did the rest of my group of friends. Normally I’m not like that, but he messed with Y/N/N.”

“Yeah, I get that. My brother’s girlfriend is basically like my sister and if anyone hurt her, I don’t know what I would do.”

“Yeah so anyways-“

Elias zoned out as Brock kept talking, just thinking about what would happen if he asked Y/N out. He decided then that no matter how perfect and incredible she was, it wasn’t worth his friendship and career with his best friend. He’d just be her friend if anything. And who knows, maybe he’d never even meet her in person.

_______

Now, as he’s walking to the break room Brock asked him to meet him in, he's remembering tjrs how ignorant that plan was. Because once he met her, it was a lot more challenging than he could’ve imagined. The second he met her in person, that plan was incinerated as a possibility.

Dice and ice (February) 2019:

Elias showed up 20 minutes early, he is so nervous. This is his first dice and ice and from what people told him, he knows this isn’t his kind of event. He’s not social, he’s an awkward Swedish hockey player. Not to mention the amount of extra attention he’s sure to get tonight. Brock had told him how much attention he received when he was the star rookie, and that made Elias even more anxious. Thanks, Brock.

He paced near the front waiting for Brock to get there, imagining all of the ways he could humiliate himself in front of everyone. He was in between “eating too much fancy food and throwing up” and “getting so nervous he forgets how to speak English” for being the worst.

Just as he started to get nauseous from remembering the rookies have to do a performance every year, he found himself unable to breathe. This wasn’t because of the inevitable doom tonight was bound to bring though. He saw the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen on the arm of his best friend. Her dress, her hair, her makeup, her legs, everything he could see was just beautiful.

“Petey!” Brock shouted.

Elias couldn’t speak still but he made eye contact with Brock.

“Woah bud, you doin’ ok?” He said with a concerned look.

A choked, “Uh…” was the only thing that came out. Though, he felt that was a sufficient answer to Brock’s question. Elias’s eyes made their way back to the girl now standing behind Brock, since Brock took it upon himself to grab Elias’s face and get very close. He inspected Elias, seeing if maybe he was sick or had a concussion.

Brock must have been satisfied with what he saw since he took a step back, letting go of Elias’s face. That’s when he noticed his best friend looking at his “date” for the night.

“Petey, this is Y/N/N, Y/N/N Petey,” Brock said, gesturing to the two of you.

“Y/N/N?” He asked, suddenly able to speak again. He was looking at Brock with scrunched eyebrows. ‘Is it actually her?’ was all her could think.

“Yeah, Y/N/N, you know, my sister that I’ve told you about at least 20 times?”

Elias nodded and looked back at her.

She waved a little, “Hi, it’s Elias right?” she asked.

“Hmm? Uh, yeah, that’s right.” if he wasn’t sweating before, he definitely was now. “It’s Y/N?”

She nodded “yeah but you can call me Y/N/N, most people do.”

He likes her first name though, he thinks it’s such a perfect name, so he decided to just call her Y/N.

All three of them stood there awkwardly for a moment. Though to Elias, it felt like it could’ve been a few hours. He was completely mesmerized and terrified by you.

Brock cleared his throat, pulling Elias back to the world, “so, let’s head inside?”

“Yeah sounds good,” Elias walked in and held the door open for her and Brock.

Walking in right behind them was Jacob, he put his hand on Elias’s shoulder.

“mår du bra? du ser sjuk ut. (are you okay? You look sick.),” he asked.

“Jag kommer att bli bra (I will be fine),” he responded with an unconvincing grin.

As the night went on, Elias couldn’t seem to relax; he kept making sure his tie was straight and he couldn’t stop fixing his hair. For a while, he had to take pictures with the fans and families, with Brock...obviously.

“You just need to relax, Petey,” he had said this about 5 times already.

“I know, I just don’t want to embarrass myself, I’m not very social. I hate these events.”

Brock chuckled, “I swear, the more I learn about you, the more and more I think you and my sister are the same person. The only reason why she’s here is cause I bought her a new fancy dress and cause she’s gonna try and kiss some ass and get a job with management.”

“Wait, so she’s moving here?”

“Oh yeah, I asked her to. Depending on if she gets the job, of course, which she’s sure to get with her resume.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Hey, I’m gonna go find her, you need to relax, just breathe,” Brock said as he stood up to walk away, “And stop imagining the worst things that could happen,” knowing his best friend all too well.

Elias walked over and sat with Bo and Holly, just trying to get through this night without having a panic attack.

The rest of the night went fine, no vomiting or forgetting English, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Because of his luck, that’s when he saw Y/N, and he couldn't look away. She was standing in the corner, looking insanely nervous. Before he could think about it, he was walking over to her.

“You doing ok?” he asked.

“That obvious?”

He looked down at his shoes, “Hey, at least you don't look sick like I did apparently.”

That made her laugh, one of the happiest sounds he’d ever heard. “Yeah, you didn’t look too happy to be here.”

“Well, these events aren’t really my thing. I heard they aren’t yours either?” he finally looked in her eyes, which was not a smart decision.

“God, no, absolutely not. I hate these things, I don’t get why I need to dress like this and kiss up to people to get a job that I’m already very qualified for.” She took a pause, “even though I do love this dress...”

There was a little silence as Elias wasn’t sure what to say, he decided on, “If it helps, you look very pretty, and I like that dress too.”

She blushed, “thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself, Elias”

The way she said his name sent chills up his spine, Brock introduced him as Petey, but not once had she called him that. She only called him Elias, and it sounded perfect coming from her mouth. The thing about her was, the more he looked at her, the more beautiful she became in his eyes. The way she laughed, the way she stood with her legs crossed, the way she constantly crossed her arms. To most she probably seems unwelcoming cold, and closed off but to Elias, he saw someone just like himself and-

Oh shit, what is he doing?

He’s literally doing the exact opposite of what he said he was going to, he needs to get away from her. He needs a drink is what he really needs.

That’s when Brock walked over, “hey! There are the two most unfun people in this place!”

“Jackass,” she quipped.

“I’m gonna go talk to Marky,” Elias said, trying to make his escape.

“Fine then, leave me to avoid socializing alone, I guess” she called at him sarcastically.

He nervously laughed and turned around, quickly making his way to the patio that he knew was empty.

Once he got outside he took a deep breath. “Fuck,” he sighed. He stood there thinking of what he needed to do. He couldn’t end up like ‘Chad,’ he had to stop whatever this is that’s happening to him when he saw her. He’s never felt like this, he’s never even had a girlfriend for Christ’s sake. How the hell did he feel like this for a girl he doesn’t really know? He wished he’d never met her; when he’d never met her in real life, he could imagine she looked weird, or maybe she was really rude (not that he thought anyone related to Brock could be rude). However, that could not have been farther from the truth. She was amazing, and so incredibly beautiful, but not in the conventional way like most of the WAGs here tonight, most of them fit the “hot model, super social, 50,000 picture taking” stereotype that Elias personally didn’t find all that appealing. Shes the perfect height for him, perfect size for him, her hair color and length was even perfect, and that was the problem. She was everything he didn’t want her to be, and more. Her personality was exactly what he wished his future wife’s personality would be: sweet with a little bit of sass, would rather stay inside, doesn’t take shit from people, while still a bit awkward, witty humored, sports loving, lazy Sunday having, and just goddamn perfect. The first word that came to mind when thinking of Y/N, was just that: Perfect.

So he knew what he had to do, he couldn’t be her friend. One small conversation proved that tonight. He had to avoid her as best he could, and do the things he didn’t want to do to her: be cold, shut her out, not talk to her alone. It was going to be incredibly difficult, but he valued Brock's friendship too much.

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PRESENT

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As he looks back, it was the best decision. It was definitely torturous to him, but he had to. Especially after literally every one of his closest teammates was basically like a big brother to her, or a best friend, or a “cuddle buddy” whatever that meant. He can’t even imagine what would happen now. JT, Bo, Brock, Troy, Thatcher, Marky, even Quinn would have his head if he tried anything. And God if he wasn’t terrified of the rage in JT’s eyes when anyone messed with Y/N, it wasn’t human and no one can convince Elias otherwise...seriously fucking terrifying.

-----------------------------------

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astralaffairs · 4 years ago

Text

put a ring on it 05 | philip hamilton

title: put a ring on it 05

pairing: philip hamilton x reader

words: 9.5k

warnings: another stupid cliffhanger, death mentions?, not much tbh

desc: You’ve never liked Philip Hamilton, and have always assumed the feeling has been mutual. But when you’re roped into pretending to be his girlfriend for a family reunion, you feel all your truths beginning to melt away, and find them instead taking form in his smile.

tags: @beepbeepstop @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @tf2germanvillain @ela-ena @abundant-stars @heytheredee-lilah @katierpblogg @thisshitfucks @celyndavies @quixoticallydelusional @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @yxseminx @sadhwstudent @aiifandomsunite @loonaynay @valleryhyde @lxncelot @checkurwindow @katierpblogg @alievans007@nyxie75 @ii-moonlight-ii @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @elegantbutedgy @maxi-ride @moose-on-the-l00se @itshaileyn @someinsanefangirl @theirishhufflepuff @golddiggs-x @drreamhugs @sillyteecup @notebookgirl30 @marvelouslyemily @checkurwindow @kmsmedine - lmk if u wanna b added

"Patsy, you've gotta help me. I'm freaking out."

You were slumped on the floor of the Hamiltons' bathroom by then, praying that no one would come and knock, ask to use it. To your relief, when you called, Patsy picked up the phone without hesitation - she'd been on alert, waiting for your SOS all weekend. However, the emergency call you were making didn't quite match the one she was expecting.

"Oh, god; what'd he do?" your roommate groaned from the other end of the line. "Am I gonna need to kick his ass the minute you two get back to town?"

"Shockingly, no," you mumbled, letting out a soft huff as your absent gaze fell to the green wall before you. "I... have a much different problem."

"What, did you fuck one of his cousins? Did the woman who offered to be your sugar mama a while back end up being his aunt?" Despite your state of panic, her words made you smile as you rolled your eyes. "Wait, holy shit, did you fuck him?"

You grimaced at her final question. While it didn't hit the mark, it was far too close to it for your comfort. "No, I absolutely did not."

"So what's the issue, then?"

"I... oh, god, you're definitely gonna make fun of me for this," you sighed, and Patsy didn't respond, instead waiting for you to continue. When you did, your voice was small, shaky. "I think I like him, Patsy. I really think I like him."

There was a skip.

"I'm sorry, is this some kind of a prank?"

"Patsy," you groaned, your head falling back against the bathroom wall, and she was quick to backtrack.

"No, no, I'm happy for you; don't get me wrong," she said quickly, pausing before she added, "I'm just surprised. What happened?"

"I don't even know. I just... he's really not the person I thought he was. So much of what I thought I knew about him was off base," you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. "How was I supposed to know he was secretly all caring and thoughtful? And he's so good with kids; god, it's adorable. Too much has changed this weekend; my head is spinning. I don't know what to do about it."

"Well, keep in mind that there's a reason he asked you to come home with him," she said matter-of-factly, and you furrowed your brow.

"What d'you mean?"

"Y/N," she sighed, "You two weren't friends. There was no world in which you would've agreed to be his cover story, but he still told his family he was dating you. You really don't think that was a little bit intentional?"

You scoffed. "Are you implying that he was projecting?"

"If the shoe fits."

"Patsy, it wasn't pointed; it was just convenient," you argued, pulling your knees into your chest, tucking the phone between your shoulder and your ear. "I'm his coworker. There are pictures of me and him together at work. I live far enough from the Hamiltons that it was easy to excuse the fact that I'd never met them."

"You're not his only coworker," Patsy replied, and you rolled your eyes at how certain she sounded.

"So who's to say I wasn't chosen at random?"

"Me. You spent years openly resenting him. You would've been the least convenient person in your office for him to pick," she pointed out, and you pursed your lips, playing absentmindedly with the edge of the shag carpet on the bathroom floor.

"I'm also the least insufferable," you replied. "Not to be anti-woman, or anything, but I don't have a single female coworker who I could spend a weekend with without going insane."

"Okay, so you can agree that he doesn't find you insufferable."

"That's a low, low bar."

"But don't you find it even a little bit weird?" You bit your lip at her words, and your brow was furrowed but your gaze empty. "Why would he need a fake girlfriend to begin with?"

That, however, made you wince. Even just hours before, you may not have known how to answer, but- "Actually, I have a hunch about that."

"Oh?"

"Unfortunately." You resented the sound of your own voice shaking as you remembered the scene you'd just fled, and apparently, any respite the phone call provided from the sinking feeling in your stomach was long gone. "His ex is here. She's crazy pretty, and she's totally sweet, and she's obviously still into him. She's even my dream girl. I think he asked me here to make her jealous."

There was a pause on her end of the line; all you received was static as she let out a sigh. "See, I don't buy that."

"Why not? It'd make perfect sense," you said irately. "He seemed to really want me to meet her, and, God, you shoud've seen how excited he looked to see her."

"If she's a family friend, you shouldn't be surprised that they're still on good terms. Haven't you ever stayed friends with any of your exes?"

"Not like that." You swallowed hard; Patsy couldn't see it, but your eyes were sullen, downcast as you recalled the interaction. Jesus, you'd been so stupid to get attached to him; it hadn't even been three days. You really, really should've seen something like this coming. You'd long known Philip to be self-interested, why should this be any different?

But he'd had no one to perform for when he'd spent the whole afternoon with you coddling his niece and nephew. He couldn't prove anything to anyone by the fact that you'd woken up in his arms two mornings in a row. He had nowhere to invoke how protective he'd been as his family dragged you this way and that, interrogating you all the while.

You realized you'd let your call go silent for several moments too long. "I dunno. It's just too complicated. I don't know what to think of any of it."

When she sighed, you recoiled at the loud rush of static that came from your phone. "I know you're not gonna like hearing this, but you need to talk to him."

"How the hell am I supposed to talk to him about this?"

"Be upfront. I'm serious, Y/N; your reservations about what you're feeling are all just you self-sabotaging, and you well know it." Though she wasn't wrong, her words left you on edge - if you were upfront with him, you hadn't a single clue how he'd react. "I know you haven't let yourself fall for anyone since John, but-"

"Please don't bring him into this," you said, the words weary. Patsy had known you for years; she could hear the grief building in the back of your throat before you could swallow it. She paused before speaking, and when she did, her voice was much softer.

"Sorry. I really didn't mean to, but..." You braced yourself for her to continue, your jaw tight. "It's the truth. It's been years. Don't you think it's time for you to stop holding yourself back from living?"

Your sigh was heavy; you would've even chalked it up as being born somewhat of your dramatics if not for the despair you couldn't stop from building in your voice when you responded. "Maybe it is. But I'm not ready to get hurt." The words were almost a whisper, as tearful as any cry. "I... I didn't even like Philip until two days ago; who's to say this won't just pass in another two?"

"I can't make that call for you, love," she replied, tone sympathetic. "But, please, don't self-sabotage out of fear. You deserve so much better than that."

"But I am afraid," you said, and you drew in a shaky breath. "How could I not be?"

"You've been working past all your fears for years, now. Years. It's time to stop being afraid."

"I..." you started, but you trailed off, knowing that putting up a fight wouldn't get you anywhere from there. "Thanks, Patsy. I think that, for now, I just need to clear my head. I don't want to do anything I'll regret."

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything else. Love you, Y/N."

At that, you gave a watery smile. "Love you, too."

You didn't move from your spot on the floor until the incessant drone of the dial tone into your ear became unbearable.

It was only minutes later that, after you'd exited the bathroom, flushed the toilet and washed your hands for good measure despite not having used it, ran almost directly back into Philip. He was in the dining room, chatting with Maria when you found him - or, really, when he found you.

You were hesitant to approach the pair, but when Philip noticed you, you could see him cut himself off mid-sentence, muttering something more to her before he made his way across the room to you.

"Hey, Hamilton." You offered him a weak smile, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Since when are we back to 'Hamilton,' hm?"

"Sorry. Just what I'm used to," you mumbled, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Still?"

You shrugged. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

"Alright, princess." He shook his head lightly, amusement written into his smile. "Where have you been? When I came in to find you, you weren't around."

Again, you shrugged. You were on edge, suddenly seeming to be at a complete loss for words. "I just ran to the bathroom. I'm back now," you said lamely, and he grinned.

"I can see that. You wanna come with me to get something to eat?"

You took a deep breath, trying your best to settle your fresh batch of nerves, and you nodded. "Yeah."

"Alright, let's go." He tipped his head toward the kitchen, and when you started in his direction, he reached over, looped an arm around your waist as he began to walk with you, but the sudden contact made your skin jump. You tensed in his hold, and he glanced over to you with a furrowed brow, concern written deep in his expression. "You okay?"

You exhaled shakily. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm just fine."

He pursed his lips. "You're sure?"

"Of course. Don't worry about it."

"Okay." He didn't seem convinced, though, as he looked her over once more. "Can we talk later? In private?"

You could feel your heart rate begin to pick up with the hesitance in his voice; your mouth was suddenly too dry to speak. You managed a tight smile and nodded; his expression didn't change. "So, dinner?"

-------

The next hour was tense. You couldn't avoid Philip's skeptical, sidelong glances; you couldn't avoid how you shrunk away every time he came just inches too close for comfort.

The past few days had become comfortable, a difference you couldn't help but find pleasant, but it was a change so gradual you almost hadn't noticed — that is, until it came rushing toward you all at once. You were constantly on edge, and his concern only seemed to grow. You tried to relax, but your nerves wouldn't let you, not as you questioned every fleeting touch, every lopsided smile.

Within an hour, nearly all of the family had been herded back outside, something you didn't mind in the least — the overcrowded lawn gave you an easy excuse to ignore Philip, focusing your energy on his little cousins and siblings. (You and Eliza Jr. had established quite the rapport; she'd provided the imaginary tea and cookies and was now filling you in on all the real tea in her brunch circle, including the failed marriage between her Barbie and her stuffed crocodile. It'd been toxic for both of them, or so you were told.)

As hard as you tried to forget the unfortunate epiphany that afternoon had brought you to, it remained perpetually at the surface of your mind, coloring every one of your interactions with Philip. His concern appeared to be unavoidable, too.

"Hey, princess."

You jumped at the feeling of Philip's hand coming to rest on your shoulder, tearing you from your scintillating conversation with your new four-year-old (tea) drinking buddy. You glanced back at him with wide eyes, a hand on your chest as though to still the rapid thumping of your heart, and he stood there with an eyebrow raised.

"Jesus. You can't just scare me like that," you said, seemingly winded, and he only laughed.

"My sincerest apologies."

"Oh, I'm sure."

He swung a folding chair out from the table behind you, turning it so he could sit beside you, facing his little sister with a grin. "So, what have you and Y/N been talking about? Have you been spilling all the family secrets while I wasn't around to hear?"

She let out a huff, seemingly put-off by his appearing. "No, we've been talking about my drama."

You couldn't help but grin when she folded her arms, wearing a stubborn frown, and Philip turned to you with a brow raised. "And what drama might that be?"

"I've been persuaded to act as a divorce lawyer for a crocodile and a Barbie."

"Oh, really?"

You nodded your frank confirmation. "I'm responsible for dividing up the assets."

That coaxed a chuckle from him as he glanced to Eliza. "Seems like a big job. Why wasn't I offered the position?"

"'Cause you aren't as nice as Y/N," she said matter-of-factly, and your eyebrows shot up. "You can't be mean to them while they're going through a divorce."

"Seriously?"

"You heard her," you said, casting Philip a look of faux contempt. "You have to be gentle with their feelings."

"And I'm not good enough at that?" He raised an eyebrow, and although his smile was still light, your conversation still surface-level, the broader circumstances left a heavy undertone in his words that put you on edge. You forced a smile.

"I wouldn't know."

"No, he isn't good enough at it, Y/N," Eliza Jr. insisted, yanking you abruptly from beginning to overanalyze his words. "You can leave us alone, Pip. We've got it handled."

"You're just gonna send me away?" he asked incredulously. She shrugged, and he turned to you. "C'mon, back me up, here."

"Actually, you should stay," you agreed, but at the tension in your tone, he furrowed his brow. "I'm going to go inside for a little; I need something to drink." You turned to Eliza Jr. with a smile. "Is it alright if Philip holds down the fort for a while with the divorce? I give him my full endorsement."

She huffed, folding her arms. "Okay. But don't stay away too long; my Barbie needs you."

"Thanks, Eliza. He promises he won't let you down; don't you, Pip?"

Although you offered him a light smile, the skepticism in his gaze didn't dissipate. "Yeah, of course," he ultimately said, turning back to his sister. "So, fill me in. What tore their marriage apart?"

You couldn't help your soft smile at how serious he looked as Eliza handed him the plush crocodile, but when he shifted in his seat, you flinched, figured he was about to turn to see you standing there stating at him. When he didn't, you took a deep breath and continued back toward the house. You were struggling to keep your bearings. Keep it together, Y/N.

Unfortunately, you'd spent the weekend so focused on Philip (too focused on Philip) that you hadn't bothered to give the layout of the house a second glance. The minute you stepped inside, you were essentially wandering.

You greeted Philip's family (and non-family) members in passing on your way, struggling to connect names to faces and forgetting whether the man who asked where to find Philip was John Laurens or John Church. They asked you if you needed help finding something, but no, you assured them you were just making a run inside to retrieve something from your suitcase.

That was how you found yourself in a secluded little library off at the far end of the first floor. You sank into the cool leather couch with a sigh, glad to be able to finally catch your breath — you could still see the reunion just outside the window, though, and the thoughts that'd had your head spinning all day didn't care to subside.

You only realized you were looking for him after you found him, still seated with Eliza Jr., but it seemed Eliza Sr. had found a role in the divorce proceedings, and you laughed quietly to yourself.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You jumped at the gentle voice that came from the doorway off to your left. You'd thought you were alone, but when you turned, you found a woman walking in to join you who couldn't have been more than 45.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you said quickly, standing up with wide eyes. "I didn't mean to intrude; I just—"

"No, none of that," —she waved off your apology, the wine in her tall glass sloshing about— "Eliza and Alex don't care where you go in their house. Their kids are seven too many for them to give a damn what happens to their property. You could trash the place, and they'd blame William."

You weren't quite sure whether you should stay, though. You froze in the process of standing up, eyeing the woman warily. She laughed. "What I mean is, relax. Geez."

Her easy nonchalance was putting you more at ease, and when you sat back down, she joined you on the other side of the couch. A moment passed, and you were about to fill the silence, but she beat you to it.

"So, I don't recognize you, which must mean you're the girl Philip tricked into coming home with him for a weekend," she said matter-of-factly, taking a sip of her wine.

"I..." you started, trailing off as you processed her words, and when she raised her eyebrows, you said, "yeah, I guess that'd be me. I'm Y/N."

"Oh, I know who you are. Think I've seen you in a few photos, but after the first five niece-in-laws, they all started to look the same," she sighed, clearly expecting you to commiserate with her. You were still stuck on trying to figure her out before you said anything you shouldn't.

She bumped her elbow into yours. "Don't look so scared. I'm not saying I'm expecting you two to get married anytime soon," she assured you. "Philip's never been great with commitment, either. You're the only long-term relationship he's had since high school, y'know."

So her quip about Philip 'tricking you into coming home with him' really was just a joke. The tension in your shoulders eased.

"I mean, we're taking things slow. One day at a time," you said, plastering on a smile. You hesitated. "But I'm sorry, have we met?"

She laughed, took another sip of her drink, and as she shook her head, you weren't sure what to make of how entertaining she was finding your question.

"No, no, not yet," she said. "I'm Philip's Aunt Peggy, Eliza's sister. Probably should've covered that before ambushing you in the library, huh?"

"That's alright." Your smile was candid, then. "It's really nice to meet you; Philip's told me quite a bit about you."

She cocked a dubious eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

"Not at all." She was still eyeing you skeptically as she swirled her wine glass. "He's told me all your travel stories — I hear you're the fun aunt. Can you confirm?"

She shrugged it off, but her smile was wide. "Ah, he's just saying that because I sent the Hamiltons desserts in bulk when I was abroad. I'm just funding his materialism."

"To be fair, if any of my aunts sent me that much candy, they'd be my favorites, too," you reasoned.

"Aw, I'm his favorite?"

"Don't tell the others."

She snickered. "No promises."

"Well, if you do, don't rat me out," you warned, but your smile was amused. "You didn't hear it here."

"Alright, alright, I'll give you a pass," she sighed, "but only 'cause you're my favorite of the girls he's dated. You didn't hear that here, either."

"Don't make that call just yet," you said skeptically. "You hardly know me."

"No, but I've heard about you," she said. "I can tell you're better for Philip than any of his exes were. Just take me at my word."

"Seriously?" She nodded, and you eyed her dubiously. "What about Henriette? As far as your family's concerned, she can do no wrong."

The sidelong glance Peggy gave you was amused, but you shifted in your seat as she took a sip of her wine. "You don't need to worry about Henriette." Your eyebrows shot up. "I mean, don't get me wrong, she's a sweet girl."

The thought didn't seem quite complete, though, and you waited for her to continue. "...but?"

"But, well... at the end of the day, she was bad for him, and that was that," Peggy said frankly. "I mean, he broke up with her for a reason."

"He broke up with her?" The disbelief was clear in your voice, but Peggy didn't pay it any mind. She just nodded.

"Philip was head over heels for that girl, once upon a time." She turned to you, and your unease must've been written more clearly across your face than you thought. She gave you a comforting smile, rested a hand on your knee. "Don't look so worried, please," she reiterated. "Their relationship was unhealthy. Philip gave her the world, but she always wanted more. It took a toll on him."

"And what makes you think I'm any better?" you asked skeptically.

"Because he doesn't think you're perfect."

You furrowed your brow. "What?"

"I promise, that's a good thing," she assured you, but you weren't so confident in her words. She looked entertained at how taken aback you clearly were. In what world was that 'good'? "The reason none of his other relationships lasted was because he saw the women with rose-colored glasses. And I don't blame him; it happens."

"So, he's thought everyone else he dated was perfect?"

She nodded sagely. "He realizes that there are drawbacks to your relationship, love. There are drawbacks to any relationship, of course."

"Well, yeah."

"But he can actually see them, with you. And he still wants you. Don't discount that." She sounded wholly confident in her argument, but you only pursed your lips.

After a moment, she added, "He has a bad record of putting girls on pedestals. But I think he sees you for what you are."

"Someone with a lot of drawbacks?" Your gaze was still disbelieving as you eyed her, but she laughed.

"Well, I suppose." She turned to you. "But someone that's still worth it."

"Oh. Well, that's good, I guess." Your voice was soft, and Peggy squeezed your shoulder affectionately.

"It's rare, too. He's lucky to have found you." You pursed your lips. "So he'd better treat you right, or I'll set him straight. Just call up old Aunt Peggy; I've got your back."

The severity in her tone made you laugh, and she cracked a smile at your reaction. "I'll keep it in mind," you quipped. She nodded approvingly, and your smile was soft as she drained the remainder of her wine from her glass. "Thanks, Peggy."

"My pleasure."

Your eyes had wandered back to the window as you spoke, finding Philip easily as he crossed the yard with Georges and his wife, Emilie. They were talking enthusiastically; what they were saying was beyond you, but he laughed as Georges gave him a playful shove, and Emilie rolled her eyes at whatever he said next.

You didn't quite realize how soft your gaze was as you watched him, but Peggy did.

Moments later, when Philip happened to glance in your direction, he looked surprised to see you sitting there, but he grinned when he met your eyes. He gave you a short, timid wave, and you nodded back in greeting, the corners of your lips upturned. However, the interaction just drew Georges's attention to where you'd hidden yourself away, and when he saw you, his greeting was far more dramatic, waving, gesturing for you to come back out, apparently shouting something at you from outside (without a care in the world about the fact that you couldn't hear him). You couldn't help but laugh outright, returning his wave, and Georges turned to Philip. Whatever he said when he nudged him just made Philip shake his head, apparently exasperated.

"Do you love him?"

"What?" You turned with a start; Peggy's voice snapped you out of your reverie, and you felt like a deer caught in headlights. "Oh, I, um– Well–" You cut yourself off as she raised a concerned eyebrow, and you blinked hard, forced a smile as you gathered your bearings. "I mean... yeah. Of course."

You swallowed hard; how nervous you were was clearly apparent, and Peggy rested a hand on your arm, wearing an apologetic smile. "Oh, lord, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that," she said. "I just assumed, y'know, after two years together, you two would've said that by now." When you pursed your lips, she was quick to backtrack. "And not that you should've! It's perfectly alright that you haven't."

"No, no, I mean, we have, I just..." you trailed off, unsure exactly how to justify your reaction. Peggy's dark brow knit.

"Then what's got you so nervous to confirm it? You two aren't having problems, are you?"

"No," was all you said, but there wasn't much conviction in your tone. When you met Peggy's gaze, you were relieved to see that the look in her eye wasn't of skepticism but was instead of concern.

"That answer sounded like it came with stipulations, love."

"No, it didn't," you assured her, but she raised an eyebrow. A beat passed. You swallowed hard. "It's just... how do you know if you love someone?"

Peggy tilted her head to one side. "Have you never been in love before?"

"I mean, I have," you acquiesced, and when you didn't go on, she filled the silence.

"So don't you know what it feels like when you're in love, then?"

"It's just... been a while." Your gaze drifted down to the printed rug before the couch, focus suddenly on how the toes of your shoes sank into the plush fabric. Peggy rested a hand on your shoulder.

"Is everything alright?"

You swallowed hard, gave her a reassuring smile. "Yeah. Yeah, it is, really."

"You can talk to me, y'know. I won't go spilling your business to the family."

"Yeah?"

"Of course."

"Well," you started, turning away from Peggy, gaze unfocused, "I don't know how I feel about Philip, honestly."

"You're sure there's no issue between you two?"

"It's nothing he's done," you said softly, and after you swallowed hard, you finally admitted, "but... I'm a widow. I haven't been with anyone else since my late husband, and it's been years, now."

"You're a widow?" she repeated, and you nodded.

"We married young. But since he passed, I..." You shrugged, feeling tears welling in the corners of your eyes. As you wiped them away, you offered her a weak smile in an effort to ease how silly you were feeling. "I mean, that was my last serious relationship. It's been hard to figure out how to proceed from there."

"I'm so sorry," Peggy said softly, and the concerned look she wore was genuine. "Come here."

She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side where you sat, and you gave her a grateful smile. "You're sweet, but I'm fine, honestly. It's been so long. But it might've left me with just a little fear of attachment."

"You poor thing; I can't imagine," she said, rubbing your upper back comfortingly. "But it's alright that you feel like this; you shouldn't feel guilty about being slower to open up."

"I didn't say I felt guilty."

"Do you?"

A long moment passed in silence, and eventually, you said softly, "...I mean, honestly? Yeah. It sucks to not be able to figure out what it is I'm feeling. I… I can’t help but think Philip deserves better."

"We've all been there at one time or another. Don't beat yourself up."

"How did you know you loved your husband?" you asked, and she pursed her lips, thought on it for a moment.

"Well, I'm certainly no relationship expert, so take this with a grain of salt," she said, "but I've told quite a number of people I loved them in all my life, and it took me quite a few failed romances to figure out which ones were real."

"Then how did you decide what love actually was?" you asked hesitantly, and Peggy's gaze was absent, faraway, but her smile was tender.

"I realized I was in love when being with them meant more to me than my freedom," she said. "That's why they never lasted. I spent my twenties traveling the world, jumping from job to job and partner to partner."

"'Partner to partner'?" you interjected, an eyebrow raised.

She shrugged. "Partner, significant other, whatever you kids are calling it these days."

"We say boyfriend, usually."

She gave you an amused smile with that, though, turning to again meet your gaze. "Oh, no, you misunderstand me," she replied frankly. "They were rarely men."

"Oh!" Your eyebrows shot up. "Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to assume—"

"That's just fine. No need to apologize." She shrugged, but she looked entertained at how panicked you were, immediately trying to backtrack. "But anyway, I was only willing to settle down with my husband when keeping my lifestyle would've meant losing him."

Your smile was soft. "That's sweet."

"Oh, is it?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "Well, good. I half expected you to think I was talking nonsense."

Her candid surprise made you laugh. "No, I appreciate it. It's been nice to have someone to talk to about all this."

"I'm glad." She nudged your arm lightly, wearing a small smile. "And I know you'll be fine. Take as much time as you need to figure it out; I have a feeling Philip will be there waiting for you in the end."

-----

You didn't go back outside after that.

The weight of everything you'd just unloaded onto his aunt hit you like a freight train, and her words stuck with you. You were second-guessing everything that'd happened that weekend, replaying all the little things you took for granted: the enigmatic advice Georges had apparently given Philip when you first arrived at your office all those years ago; what his niece had heard him saying about you. His teasing comments, the stolen glances, the accidental, fleeting touches that lasted just a moment longer than they should've. It all added up to one larger picture that you weren't sure you wanted to see.

And your theory that you were there to make his ex jealous was blown wide open the minute you found out Philip had been the one to end things with Henriette. (No wonder she'd been trying to trudge up their old memories.)

You refused to think any further than that; you knew the conclusions you'd have to draw would make all this so much more real. And that thought scared you more than anything.

You were pacing the halls of the Hamiltons' first floor. The only reason you finally went upstairs was because one too many cousins had asked you where you were going — you’d been telling people you were headed up to get something from Philip’s room for nearly the past half hour.

That was how you found yourself seated on the end of Philip's bed, reeling from the afternoon's events.

You did retrieve something from your suitcase, ultimately. The deep-red, velveteen box was soft under your fingertips as you played with it anxiously, picking at the sides but never quite working up the nerve to open it. It wasn’t like it’d been that long since you opened it, either; it couldn’t have been more than a week, but this time, when you flicked it open, staring down at the gold band and its tiny diamond felt different.

What would John think if he could see you there?

Patsy was convinced he’d only want you to be happy, and that he wouldn’t mind who you were with. She’d tell you it was time to move on with your life. But did moving on have to mean leaving him behind?

And falling for someone else felt like abandonment of the worst kind. It felt like you were cheating on him, like you and he were falling out of love. As much as you still missed him, as much as you grieved for him, every day, the memory of what it felt like to be his slipped further away from your grasp.

You ran your fingers over the cold metal of the ring, and your hands shook as you slipped it onto your ring finger. For a fleeting moment, you could almost convince yourself that you were still somebody’s wife.

Light footsteps padded down the hall outside Philip’s room, and they were quiet enough that they didn’t snap you out of your reverie until the door’s hinges creaked. Your heart stopped.

And to your relief, the person who opened the door was just six-year-old William.

“Philip, are you…” He trailed off when he saw you on Philip’s bed, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Oh! Did you see Philip in here?”

“Hey, William,” you said, but your accompanying laugh held a hint of anxiety. “Philip isn’t up here; sorry. Last I saw him, he was out in the backyard.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Can you help me find him? Daddy needs him, but I don’t wanna make him sad ‘cause I don’t know where Pip is. I think he’s hiding from us.”

“Yeah, sure; I’d love to help,” you answered, and your endeared smile was candid. His determination was almost making you forget about your ring entirely.

“Thank you.” He seemed more than ready to drag you out of Philip’s bedroom, watching you eagerly as you hesitated to stand and go with him. You’d hoped he’d go ahead and let you catch up with him momentarily, but he stood there and watched you expectantly where you sat on the bed, and you apparently had two options: take the ring off then and hope William didn’t realize it was a wedding ring, or wear it out and hope you can find a time to hide it discreetly. The only issue was that you had no pocket to leave it in.

“No problem; let’s go.” You ended up choosing the former. William’s eyes didn’t leave you as you popped the ring’s box back open, and when you heard him gasp, your miscalculation became obvious.

“Is that a wedding ring?” he asked, and your eyes widened.

“No! No, it… I mean yes, but—”

“When did you and Pip get married?” Oh, fuck. Your pulse was pushing into overdrive. “Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding? What about Mama and Pops?”

“We didn’t… we didn’t not invite you, but—”

“But I wasn’t there.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, stifling a groan when he wore a deep frown. “Did your parents come?”

“No, they—”

“Why didn’t you and Pip tell us?” he asked. “It was a special location.”

Special loca…? “Special occasion?”

“That’s what I said.” He wore a pout. “Well, now we’ve gotta go tell everyone, c’mon.”

He turned and started running, and you swallowed hard. Oh, shit.

“Wait, William, come back!” you called after him, and you scowled when he didn’t stop. You had to finish putting the ring away before you could start after him — going back out to his family with it would only spell disaster. “William?”

By the time you took the ring off, tucked its box back into your suitcase, it seemed he was out of earshot. When you reached the bottom of the stairs, he was nowhere to be found; he’d weaved between his family members’ legs until he was out of sight.

Well, you were certainly, thoroughly fucked.

You began to wade through the crowd in the kitchen, eyes darting around the floor for any sign of a retreating William, going through room after room to no avail, but your heart rate was steadily increasing with every moment you didn’t find him.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes until one of Philip’s family members approached you.

“Y/N?” Frances Laurens— no, Frances Henderson, who’d taken her husband’s name the previous summer, approached you from behind, and you spun around abruptly in surprise. “Hey, when were you going to tell us that you and Philip were engaged?”

Your throat tightened. “What?”

“William just told us.” She nudged you with a lopsided grin. “Congrats; welcome to the family.”

“Oh, no, there’s been a misunderstanding—”

“Wait, you’re getting married?” The William who interjected into your conversation was, unfortunately, not the one you were looking for. Instead, you followed the voice to find the younger Mulligan son standing with a beer.

“No, no, it’s not like… William just— well, not you William, William Hamilton—”

“Hey, William just told me you and Philip were finally getting married. What made you decide to tie the knot?” That was Georges, and your head jerked in his direction.

“Oh, thank god there’s going to be another woman at family dinners when he’s in town.” Angelica Hamilton approached from your left.

“Wait, what? Do you have a date for the wedding?” You hadn’t a clue which of the Lafayette sisters that was (well, you knew it wasn’t Henriette). “You better invite all of us. You might need a big venue to fit the whole family.”

Oh, god, you were in deep. It seemed William had managed to do quite a bit of damage without a whole lot of time.

“I need to talk to Philip,” you said, voice breathy. You knew you sounded winded, but his family all wore wide grins, patting you on the back or squeezing your shoulders — the Hamilton-Schuyler-Lafayette-Laurens-Mulligans were certainly a touchy-feely bunch.

“Yeah, where is your fiancé?” Georges asked, scanning the room.

“He’s not—”

“Hey, Philip!” It seemed he’d found him, yelling across the dining room, and Philip started toward you with his hands in his pockets, watching the crowd that’d formed around you curiously. “You ever planning on telling us you proposed? Or were you gonna wait till you had your firstborn, huh?”

Georges’s grin was wide as he shoved Philip affectionately, but Philip’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“William spilled everything. Congrats, you two,” Frances said, and when Philip met your eyes, you looked defeated.

“Oh, did he?”

“Relax, we’re all excited for you. No one’s mad that you hid it.” Apparently, you weren’t the only one who heard the tension in Philip’s voice as he glanced between you and Angelica warily, and she squeezed your upper arm with a smile. “It’s great news.”

“Yeah, no wonder you finally brought her home.” The Mulligan son— shit, his name was escaping you. Was it Wyatt? Winston? No, shit, what were you thinking? He was also William; how the hell did you forget—?

“I’m sorry, what exactly did Will tell you?” Philip asked hesitantly.

“He saw Y/N with the ring a little while ago. Not sure why you decided to hide such big news from us, but—”

“Right, can I have a word with my fiancée real quick?” He met your eyes with an urgent look, and you winced. “In private?”

“Oh, c’mon, it was an honest mistake; don’t be too hard on her,” Georges said. “Does it really matter? We were gonna find out anyway, so—”

“We’ll be back down in a bit.” Philip spoke through clenched teeth as he cut Georges off, walking toward you, and he grabbed you by the bicep, grip tight as he pulled you toward the doorway. Your breath caught when you stumbled forward. You were out of earshot before any of his family members could get another word in, and you struggled to keep pace with his long strides as he continued toward the staircase.

“Come on.” His voice was low when you reached the home’s entrance hall, and when he started upstairs to his room, you were quick to follow him. He locked the door behind you.

A moment passed in silence as he turned around to face you. The tension in the air was thicker than your ass.

He folded his arms.

“Care to explain why my entire family thinks we’re engaged?”

“It’s…” You rubbed your forehead as though it’d relieve your throbbing headache. “It was an accident. I swear it was; William just… he saw me with a ring, and he thought—”

“Why the hell did he think we were getting married? What’d you tell him?” Philip’s voice was rising as he spoke, and you had to swallow the lump building in your throat.

“I didn’t tell him we were engaged,” you defended. “I was just putting my ring back in its box, and he made an assumption. That’s it.”

“What ring?” he asked. “You aren’t wearing a ring. I haven’t seen you with a ring all fucking weekend. Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Of course not.” You huffed. “What, do you think I did this on purpose? That I wanted your family to think we were engaged?”

“I don’t know, did you?”

“No; why would I?”

“Oh, be honest, Y/N. You just agreed to come home with me this weekend so that you could fuck with me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry, do you really believe I’m just here to make your life harder? That I want to push you deeper into your stupid fucking lie?” you asked incredulously. “I came to cover for you. Because you told them we’d been together for two years.”

He scoffed. “Please, like you wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to mess with my personal life. Let’s face it; we both know you’ve never liked me.”

“We weren’t friends, but I’ve never had any sort of vendetta against you.” Your scowl deepened, and you shook your head in disbelief.

“You told me that you were the one person in our office who hated me. Word-for-word,” he retorted. “Did you do this to get back at me for using you as my fake girlfriend?”

“I don’t hate you.” He didn’t think that it was reasonable for your tone to be that defensive. “I've never hated you; I… I was just being dramatic. And even if I did have it out for you, I wouldn’t do this to your family.”

“Then why didn’t you tell William that we weren’t engaged?” he asked. “Hm? What the hell happened that my entire family managed to learn that you’d told him we were getting married in all of five minutes?”

“I tried to tell him we weren’t, but he was asking about the ring, and—”

“You should’ve told him it wasn’t an engagement ring!”

“I tried to! He asked if it was a wedding ring, though, and…” Your voice trailed off. The smallest shreds of a sob were building in your throat, and you were trying to speak through them, but your chest was tightening.

“And you didn’t set him straight?”

“It was a wedding ring, Philip. He stopped me before I could explain that we weren’t getting married, and by the time I could go after him, he was already downstairs. I lost him in the kitchen; I couldn’t stop him,” you said. “I swear, I tried to prevent this.”

A moment passed in silence. His gaze was absent, fixed on the floor, and he was shaking his head ever-so-slightly in disbelief.

“Why’d you have a wedding ring if you didn’t come here planning to fuck up my family life? If you didn’t wanna bury me further in this stupid lie I told to get my family off my back?” he asked. “Were you wearing the wedding ring?”

You nodded. “He came in, and I tried to hide it before coming downstairs, but—”

“Why the hell were you wearing a wedding ring?”

“I only put it on for a minute!”

“Why do you even have one? And why would you bring it home this weekend?”

“It’s…” Your jaw ached as you tried to keep yourself from crying. You blinked back the tears that stung the corners of your eyes and sat on the edge of his bed. You didn’t want him to see the old emotions that were breaking loose. “It’s old. I got it years ago.”

“What? Why?” The incredulity in his voice was making you cringe, and he threw his hands up in frustration. “What am I supposed to do with this, Y/N? You really expect me to believe that you wearing a wedding ring around my family was completely innocent? That you didn’t—?”

“I’m a widow, Philip.” You nearly had to shout to be loud enough to cut him off, and while he’d begun pacing in agitation, your words made him freeze.

He turned to you. “...You what?”

“I’m a widow,” you repeated softly, and his wide eyes met yours as he saw the tears building in them.

“I…” He started to reply, but his voice faltered. All the anger had been wiped from his expression, replaced quickly with surprise, apology, worry. “Shit, Y/N. I… fuck, I’m sorry, I had no idea.” His voice was quiet.

“Don’t be. You couldn’t have known.” You wiped at your left eye when the first tear rolled down your cheek. “It’s not like I ever talked about it.”

When he took a seat beside you on the bed, his hand came tentatively to cover yours. You drew in a shuddering breath. “Still. I’m sorry I… well, that I blew up like that. I didn’t mean to bring up your past like this; I—”

“It’s fine, Philip. Really.” You laced your fingers into his, squeezed his hand reassuringly. “No one expects a 26-year-old to be a widow. I don’t blame you.”

He nodded when you glanced up at him, and goosebumps ran up your arm when he swept his thumb over the back of your hand. “What was his name?” he asked quietly, and you pursed your lips.

“John.” You sniffled. “We met in high school, got married just after we graduated college.” Although you paused, he didn’t say anything, giving you room to pause, take a breath, and you knew that if you wanted to go on, he was there to listen. “We… god, we were so happy, for a while. I followed him to New York for college; I swore I’d never plan my life around a man, and I knew he wouldn’t ask me to, but I didn’t want to live without him. I was so sure that we wouldn’t break up, so I didn’t think we had anything to lose.”

Your voice was devolving into a croak as you went on, and you had to swallow your whimper when you came dangerously close to crying. He could hear your words breaking.

It caught you off guard when Philip wrapped an arm around your waist, pulled you into his side. The action was hesitant, and his grip on you was soft; he half expected you to recoil from his touch, but when you pulled closer, leaned against him, he held you close.

“He died almost two years after we graduated,” you murmured, cheek pressed against Philip’s shoulder. His shirt was damp from your slow, silent tears. “No one saw it coming. He was shot when someone broke into our house. It all happened in less than an hour, and then he was gone.”

Your voice broke altogether with your final few words. You could no longer keep down the sob in your throat, try as you might to keep speaking through it. You drew in a shuddering breath, but when you exhaled, you were crying audibly, tears flowing freely. “Shit, I… I didn’t mean to dump all of this onto you. You didn’t need to know all my…” —you hiccuped— “all my stupid fucking trauma, but—”

“Shh, relax. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured you, and the warmth rising in your chest wasn’t something you wanted to be able to explain when he turned toward you on the bed, wrapped his other arm around the back of your shoulders and pulled you into him. “C’mere. I’ve got you.”

As much as you were caught in your head, struggling to claw your way out of the memories you’d buried yourself in, you couldn’t have been more present in that moment. Philip smelled like the sun, like freshly-washed cotton, like lazy mornings after a long night of sleep; he smelled like something you couldn’t describe as anything other than warm.

And so you let yourself cry. You didn’t explain anything further; he wasn’t going to ask, didn’t need to know how you’d moved across the city within a week of John’s funeral to get away from everything that felt so painfully like him. He wasn’t going to pry. If you wanted to talk, wanted to tell him anything, needed someone who was just there to listen, that was your prerogative, and he wouldn’t try to force it. You were free to take your time, safe in his arms.

He rubbed your upper back, and your eyes fell shut.

“Thanks for being here,” you mumbled against the scratchy material of his button-down. “I… I’m sorry I made such a damn mess of your family life. I didn’t mean to; I swear, I—” You were cut off by a hiccup, a shuddering sob, and he held the side of your head against his chest, stroking your hair absentmindedly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You did nothing wrong. I’m gonna be just fine, alright? It’s you I’m worried about.”

You wore a watery smile at his words. “You’re too nice. I… I fucked up, and you don’t have to pretend you’re alright with it.”

“I’m fine. Honest.” Only when your breathing evened out did he lean back, lift your chin to look at him. He offered you a small, lopsided smile. “So, I guess we’re gonna have to go back down there and tell my parents we’re engaged, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“Don’t look so sad, princess; this is supposed to be a celebration.” The guilt weighing on your shoulders must’ve been written across your face, and as he nudged you lightly, his words made you laugh.

“Mmh, we’ve really hit a relationship milestone, haven’t we?”

“Looks like it,” he said. “So, what’s the story? How’d I propose? Was it oh-so-touching, or did I butcher it ‘cause I was an emotional mess?”

“Well, you had a whole speech prepared,” you informed him, and he raised an amused eyebrow.

“I did?”

“You did.” You nodded. “Only problem was that when you got down on one knee, you were crying too hard to be able to actually get through it. You were just so moved by how beautiful I looked that night, and you couldn’t keep your feelings in check when you thought about spending the rest of your life with me.”

“You sound like you’ve really thought this out,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’ve been fantasizing about it. I know how incredible and attractive I am, but I didn’t think we were on that level yet.”

“Of course not. Don’t worry.” You couldn’t contain your entertained grin. “This was all Theo’s fantasy that she told me while you were ignoring her. She’s still really convinced it’ll happen, so I guess now you have an instruction manual for your engagement with her.”

That made him laugh outright. “When Theo and I get engaged?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Now you’re really talking nonsense.” He shook his head, but as he eyed your expression, the tear tracks on your face, his brow furrowed with concern. “...Are you alright, Y/N?”

You nodded, swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” The calloused pad of his thumb ran over your cheek, wiped your tears away, and you found yourself staring. The look in his dark eyes was heavy; god, you could’ve drowned in it, and his eyes were watering, too, no doubt from watching you cry, from seeing how much pain you were in, how deep your grief ran.

He wished he could take that all away from you. If he could shoulder the burden for you, no matter how heavy, he’d have done it in a split second — even if you didn’t want him, even if you’d never look at him in the same way that he looked at you, he knew you, and he knew you didn’t deserve to suffer like this. He cleaned the smeared mascara from under your eyes with the end of his sleeve as though somehow, some way, that could alleviate your suffering.

And you couldn’t see all of that. But you saw how he looked at you. That much was unmistakable.

He held you as though, if he let go, you might break, and in that moment, part of you felt like you might. He’d never thought he’d really be holding you like that.

But there was so much care in his gentle gaze, although you had no way to know all that was going on beneath it. You felt safe, safer than you’d felt in a long time as he rubbed circles into the small of your back, shifting you onto his lap, and he was so close, his face just inches from yours. If you leaned forward just a little, you could kiss him.

And when your gaze trailed down to his lips, downturned in a concerned frown, as consumed in you as every other part of him, you did. You finally took the opportunity presented to you, and you didn’t intend to let yourself continue to squander it.

Sitting on his lap at the end of his bed, you kissed him.

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eunoiaflow3r · 5 years ago

Text

Close Is More Than A Word

A/N: lmk if you want to be added to my Spencer Reid works taglist.

Warning: so much fluff, mistakes. fem!reader.

Word Count: 1.2k

Request(ed): no

Summary: Based off a post on instagram by Jack Johnson (the singer) a while back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were scrolling through Instagram when you noticed that Spencer had posted a picture of himself sitting criss-cross applesauce with his hand in front of his face in front of a whiteboard. The whiteboard read, a math equation, and “Newborn babies can hold their breath on average of .54 seconds.”

The caption read, “Haven’t got a new apartment for my couch yet because I’m waiting for someone to go to IKEA with me, but nobody will because IKEA is a freaking nightmare...there’s no way I’m going by myself if I have plans of retaining my insanity (which I do) so I will simply sit criss cross applesauce and solve riveting math equations for the time being.”

You decided to text him, you had completely forgotten that he had planned on remodeling.

You: Newborn babies can hold their breath on average of .54 seconds?

Spencer: Ah! You've seen my post.

Spencer: If you've seen the post that means you know what kind of predicament I'm in.

You: Such a predicament that you, and I quote, "will sit criss cross applesauce, and solve riveting math equations." ??

Spencer: Yes, exactly. So will you go to Ikea with me?

You: I guess. I kind of want you to retain your sanity.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You and Spencer decided you'd meet at his house and then he'd drive you both to Ikea. You were kind of excited. You were no interior designer, but you loved experimenting like you were one.

Half an hour later, and you were in Spencer's car, and he was telling you about the latest visit he had with his mom. He told you that she was doing well.

It was fun. You'd look at Spencer ever so often and just get this...happy feeling. Like, there is no other place you could possibly be right now, other than humming to classical music in Reid's car.

Soon enough you got there and Reid pulls you to where they have their couches.

You try to remember what his living room looks like so that you could find one to match.

“Y/N, what about this one?” Spencer asks walking over to a gray sofa that looks like a grandma dropped it off because even she didn't want it.

“Spencer, no, it looks terrible.”

Spencer attempts to sit down but then shoots right back up again. “You're right.”

You smile and walk to see other couches. “Hey, Spencer?”

As soon as he hears his name he walks over to you. “You should get like a bean bag seat to match whatever couch you get.”

His eyes widen and a smile creeps up onto his lips. “Genius.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Later, he finally found the perfect couch that would look great in his living room, and you were back in his car with the truck with the couch behind you.

Beethoven was playing on the radio, which you thought was weird, but Spencer just hummed along, and you eventually joined in. A couple of moments later, you feel something soft and warm on your thigh. Spencer.

Spencer's hand was resting on your thigh, and you didn't say anything. It didn't feel bad, so what really was there to say?

He moved his thumb back and forth, and honestly? It felt good. Like everything was right in the world. You were content.

After a couple of more minutes, you finally arrived back at his place, and he unlocked the door so that they could carry in the couch. After tipping them for their service, Spence throws down his bean bag and then jumps on the couch on his back.

“C'Mon Y/N, it’s comfortable.”

You smile and walk over to where J laid, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you down to him so that you were on top of him, chest to chest. You were both laughing at this point. “Spence, what is wrong with you?!" You laughed into his neck.

You lifted yourself up, but you were still on top of him. He looked into your eyes, while you looked into his. His eyes trailed down to your lips, and back up to your eyes. “Hey,” his voice quieter this time. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Yeah.” you say at the same volume.

You get off of him, and he gets up from the couch.

“You should stay over tonight.” Spencer starts. “Unless you have something else to do.”

“No, it's okay. I'll stay. Can I take a shower?”

“Yeah, sure thing. You know where everything is. I'm gonna order us some food, I'm really hungry."

You laugh and walk to his bathroom setting up your toothbrush so that you can brush your teeth after you eat.

Knowing that he hadn't put his towels away, you walked into his room to grab some.

Shit. You don't have any clothes to change in to. Maybe you could just wear some of his?

You grabbed a band tee of his (that was actually Morgan’s), and some sweatpants he probably forgot about.

After your shower, you literally smelled and looked like Reid. Laughing to yourself you walked back into his room because you hate being barefoot so you went to find some socks.

After putting them on, you walked into the living room and saw that there was a note on the table.

- went to go pick up the food. I realized that I could have just texted you this but your phone was dead. I put it on the charger.

That was sweet of him.

After grabbing a Coke from his fridge, you grabbed a blanket and sat on the couch and turned on Netflix.

It was to the middle of an episode of The Office when Spencer comes through the front door with bags of food. You get up immediately helping him carry them to the table in front of the couch.

After you set that down he drops his keys to the table and then looks at you.

“I - oh...”

“What? Oh. Your clothes. Sorry, I - ”

“No, like, it's just...I can't believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

You smile to yourself and sit back down.

“You look good.” he states sitting down beside me.

After choosing an Adam Sandler movie to watch and thanking him for the food, you dug in and started watching.

Later, you were stuffed, and you weren't even halfway through the movie yet.

“Hey,” Spencer starts. “You have something in your hair. Want me to get it?”

You nod and he lifts up his arm to pick at a strand of your damp hair.

“Thanks.” you say after he pulls whatever it was out. It wasn't until after a few moments you realized how close you two were.

“Wait, don't pull away....not yet.”

And you didn't. Spencer looked into your eyes and down to your lips again just like he did earlier today. This time though, he leans just a little closer, and instead, it was you who looked at his lips and back up to his eyes again.

You’re not sure if you should have done it, but you did. You pressed your lips to his soft ones, and kissed him. Wait, what were you thinking? Spencer is your best friend! How could you even - this could ruin everything! Nevertheless, he scoots even closer and kisses you back. All those thoughts leave your mind when his hand goes on the back of your head and he continues to kiss you like he never wanted to stop.

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titsthedamnseason · 3 years ago

Note

Do you have any sapphic recs? And what are your favourite tropes you'd want to see in a sapphic romance book?

my number one sapphic rec is her royal highness by rachel hawkins! it’s my fav sapphic book of all time and it’s like…aged down sapphic rwrb LOL and they came out the same week so weird. but anyway, it’s about a hs senior from texas who decides to do her last year of school at a scotland boarding school and her roommate turns out to be the princess of scotland. they give omg they were roommates and enemies to friends to lovers and popularxnerdy and they make me insane 😵‍💫😵‍💫 😵‍💫 highly recommend

this one is kind of basic but i don’t see a lot of people on tumblr talk about it: her name in the sky!! hrh has the sentimental factor for me but this def rivals it as my all time fav. it’s kind of better than a summary could convey but it’s a really really beautiful and powerful story. i’m not religious at all but i found the themes so touching and relatable and heartbreaking. bakerhannah i would do anything for you. friends to lovers with homoerotic tension excellence. also, the author uploads a lot of bonus scenes for them on her tumblr and her other two books are also great sapphic books! i like life of the party better but she drives me crazy is also really good! kelly is so talented so you can’t go wrong w any of her books (but def content warnings for hnits dealing with a lot of sensitive themes such as homophobia and internalized homophobia and being a gay member of the church in the deep south)

finally here are just some that are on my mind bc i’ve read them recently: not my problem (the romance itself isn’t super strong but the cast of characters is so so fun), a spindle splintered (not my favorite in terms of execution but 10/10 fairytale vibes and i’m looking forward to the sequel), and perfect on paper (not a sapphic romance but follows a sapphic main character, has a lot of lgbtq+ themes, and a really great main romance)

i’m DYING for a childhood friends to lovers sapphic romance done really really well. bakerhannah from hnits allllmost give us this but they dont really meet until hs so i don’t really count it. and sophiemina from far from you DO give this but we barely get to see any romance from them so they didn’t really scratch that itch for me. if anyone has any recs pls lmk!!

#i’ve also been LOVING books with alternating/overlapping timelines recently so i would love to see a sapphic ship done well w that format #asks #anonymous

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cherrybracelets · 4 years ago

Text

Heat Waves

weed dealer!mgg x reader

masterlist | requests

word count: 5.5k | warnings: 18+ content! drugs and alcohol mentions and usage. no smut but partying!

summary: your brother has a new roommate, and fuck, you might be in love with him?

song inspo : heat waves - glass animals

an: this gif is how i imagine him in this fic like w glasses but way less nerdy ahahha ok well whatever idk if im gonna continue this or just leave it as is lmk what yall think ok byeee

You stumbled up the steps of the subway, the heavy cardboard box you were holding slipping out of your hands as you made your way above ground. You tried to adjust your grip on it and almost fell backwards, shaking your head in frustration. The box was filled with all the random shit your brother had left at your place over the past few months as he was trying to find a place to live, sleeping on different couches of random friends. It was almost all useless stuff, which made the fact that you had to hand deliver it all to him even more frustrating.

You walked tirelessly down the street, gripping harshly on to the box. You pushed your way through people, not caring at all that you probably looked insane as you yelled for people to move so you could just get there and fucking put this box down. You finally came upon the building, sighing with relief as you set the box on the steps and rang the buzzer.

“I’m here,” you groaned into the speaker, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand.

“Hello!” A cheery voice responded over the intercom. A voice that was definitely not your brothers. “Who exactly is here?”

“Oh, sorry- I might have the wrong apartment. Is this 4B?”

“Yeah! You must be Danny’s sister. Come on up.” The door buzzed loudly as it unlocked, and you grabbed onto the handle quickly, lugging in the box behind you. You were extremely grateful when you saw the elevator, quietly thanking the universe that you didn’t have to walk up four flights of stairs with this thousand pound box.

You took the elevator up to the fourth floor, your body exhausted as you leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath. You closed your eyes, hoping that maybe a five second nap could give you your energy back. But unfortunately, the elevator stopped and opened its doors, urging you to once again pick up the box and be on your way. You dropped your head to the floor and sighed, using the last of your energy to pick up the box and walk down the long hallway to apartment 4B.

Thankfully the apartment wasn’t too far from the elevator, and you only had a short walk until you came upon the door of his new place. You noticed a welcome mat on the floor that read ‘Bachelor Pad’, and you rolled your eyes at the pure douchiness of the thing. God, your brother was a prick. But, nevertheless, you loved him, he was family. Despite being one of the most annoying people you’d ever met.

You knocked slowly on the door, excited to throw the box into someone else’s arms and run home. It was your day off from work, and all you wanted was to throw on some sweats, eat frozen mac and cheese and watch Jeopardy until you fell asleep on the couch. The perfect day.

The door swung open, and the man who was definitely not your brother stood on the other side, a large smile plastered across his picture perfect face. His messy curls hung across his face, and he pushed them away before reaching out to you to grab the box.

“Let me get that for you,” he said quietly, literally lifting the weight off your shoulders as he grabbed it effortlessly. The muscles in his arms protruded as he set the box down on an old dining table they had set up in the kitchen, a cluster of mismatched chairs along with it.

“Thanks,” you said back, your eyes still trailing over his body, watching him closely. “Is, uh, is my brother here?” You stuttered to get your words out, your eyes still locked on the model-like man in front of you.

“No, he just ran out actually. Went to pick up a couch or something.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. He told me he would be here!” You shook your head in annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest, which pushed out your cleavage slightly. You caught the man glancing at your breasts, and felt your heart start beating a bit faster. He wasn’t even trying to the fact that he was staring at you. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. He really was supposed to be here to get this.”

“It’s not a problem at all. He told me you’d be stopping by. I’m Matt, by the way. I’m sure he’s told you about me.” He stuck out his hand, and you reached back and grabbed it. His hands were soft, but the tips of his fingers stained black, the familiar site of a smoker. The air hung the smell of stale pot smoke, so it was pretty easy to put together that he was a heavy weed guy.

“I’m (Y/N). And, uh, no, actually. He hasn’t told me, like anything about you. Just that he knows you from work and you’re a ‘pretty decent guy’,” you laughed, letting go of his hand but desperately wanting to hold on to it forever. You didn’t really understand why, but something about his touch was so comforting, it made you feel like coming home after a long day.

“Uh, I was just about to smoke a bowl actually, if you’d like to join. Your brother told me you smoke,” Matt said, motioning to the coffee table covered in various paraphernalia.

“I don’t make a habit of smoking with strangers,” you responded sharply, realizing immediately how bitchy you must’ve sounded and wishing you could take it back. You scrunched your face a bit, cringing as you replayed the sentence over and over in your head.

“But I’m not a stranger! I’m Matt! Besides, this is fantastic stuff- I just got it from my guy the other day, knocks your socks off,” he giggled, his eyes wide as he wanted to desperately for you to say yes.

“Well, I guess I really can’t say no to free weed,” you shrugged, following him over to the old couch they had set up in their under furnished living room. It was exactly how you pictured your brothers apartment to look- disappointing and not at all coordinated.

“Sorry about the place, we’re trying to make it look nice but we’re not exactly interior decorators.” He shook his head as he looked around the room, before picking up his freshly packed bowl and lighting it.

“Yeah, it looks pretty frat-housey in here. I would expect more from you, but not from my brother,” you giggled, taking the glass pipe from Matt’s hands and enjoying it yourself.

“Why me?”

“Well... I don’t know...” you stuttered, shaking your head and trying to pull together a sentence. “You just seem to have... more style, I guess. Seem more put together.”

“I appreciate that. I do try extremely hard to not look like a douche.” He smiled kindly at you, his eyes shining with the reflection of the lighter as the two of you continued to share the bowl.

You made small talk for a bit, feeling the calm of the marijuana taking over your body. The old couch suddenly became much more comfortable as you sunk back into it, staring at the patterns on the ceiling. Matt was talking quietly behind you, trying to tell some story about him and your brother; but you were only half listening, losing yourself in your own thoughts of him. Thinking about the softness of his lips as he inhaled and exhaled, watching his hands flex tireless to work the lighter, noticing how his body seemed to relax more and more with each hit.

He tilted his head towards you, flicking the lighter with his thumb and escaping in the flame. He had lost himself in it, a comfortable silence coming down over the room. You watched the flame, too, trying to see whatever beauty he saw in it- but you weren’t feeling anything, and getting pretty antsy. You turned away from him, staring into the kitchen and hoping to see something edible from this distance. You weren’t sure what kind of food two men like this would bring into their home, but you were sure it was nothing good. Your stomach grumbled at the thought of something to eat, and you fell back into the couch with a groan.

“You okay?” Matt whispered, turning his face towards you and staring at your eyes.

“Mhmm,” you responded, not having the energy to respond at the moment.

“You are extremely beautiful,” he mumbled, his eyes exploring your face, finding themselves locked on your lips no matter how hard he tried to look away.

“What?” You snickered, replaying the words in your head, feeling your heart pounding out of your chest.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be weird. It’s just shocking to me how beautiful you are. Like a piece of art; I can’t take my eyes away.”

“You’re joking.” You rolled your eyes at him and pushed his arm playfully, trying to hide the obvious delight in your face.

“Why do you think I’m joking?”

“I just don’t hear that very often.”

“Well, that’s disappointing.” He frowned, looking down at his hands and playing with his over bitten nails.

“Sorry, I mean, I appreciate it of course. Fuck, sorry, I get so awkward when I’m high. Not very good at holding conversations.”

“Well, now that we’re friends I’ll make sure to remind you how beautiful you are as often as I can.” Matt placed his hand on yours lightly, at first only as a friendly touch, but feeling a comfort in the embrace. His thumb moved slowly, the small movement between your flesh overwhelming you with desire. Your eyes were locked on his, an intoxicating silence overcoming the room. You opened your mouth to speak, not sure exactly what to say, but the sound of the door unlocking breaking you from your daze. You pulled your hand away from his quickly and jumped off the couch, watching as the door opened and your brother walked in.

“Heyo!” Danny, your brother yelled, greeting the two of you with a large smile. “I see you’ve met my sister!”

“Yes, uh, yeah. We were just chatting,” Matt said defensively, trying to avoid eye contact with you.

“I was just waiting for you to get back. That’s all.” You responded, nodding your head quickly.

“How sweet! Just in time to help me get the new couch up!”

“Absolutely not. I brought your box, that's all the free labor you are getting out of me.” You laughed awkwardly, looking back at Matt, who was still avoiding you.

“Alright, whatever, but don’t ever ask me for anything ever again.” Danny rolled his eyes, throwing his phone down on the counter and grabbing a beer out of the fridge.

“Well, I should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow night for my party?” You asked, heading towards the door.

“Oh, right! I almost forgot. Is it cool if I bring Matt?”

You looked at Matt, who finally looked back at you, and you nodded slowly.

“Of course. I’ll see you guys then.” You smiled at the two of them, gave a small wave and left, closing the door loudly behind you. Fuck. What the fuck was that? Was he flirting with you? Or was he just high? You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the wall, trying to compose yourself before heading home.

***************

There was nothing that stressed you out more than when your roommate threw her chaotic ‘get togethers’ every other Friday at your place. It was always an exhausting mess, and now you had to think about Matt coming along as well. You hadn’t stopped thinking about your weird intimate moment together, and the thought of seeing him again made your stomach do backflips.

There was something about him that made you feel so comfortable, so at home. But he’s friends with your brother... he has to be a scumbag. Right? And what kind of guy just walks around telling random girls they’re beautiful. He was definitely just trying to sleep with you. Which of course you wanted to sleep with him too, obviously. But he was the kind of guy that you could find yourself falling for, and getting hurt, badly. He was the kind of guy that would break your heart. You could tell. And you could not let him in, no matter how much you wanted to.

Tonight has to be all about ignoring him. You cannot let him be alone with you, because the moment he’s alone with you and starts calling you beautiful again with his pretty face and intoxicating voice and touching your hand... you were playing a dangerous game. You closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh, trying to push the thoughts of him out of your head when you were interrupted.

“What are you doing? I told you to get the cups set out like 20 minutes ago!” Your roommate rolled her eyes, pushing you to the side and laying out the cups herself.

“Sorry, Callie. Just a bit distracted today.”

“I can tell. What’s going on with you? You were weird all night last night.”

“Just tired I guess. Don’t worry about it. I’ll go set the drinks out.” You walked away quickly, hoping she would be too focused on her party planning to ask any more questions. Whenever you told her about a new guy, she was stupidly optimistic. And you really didn’t need her telling you to go for it when your brain was giving you the exact opposite advice. She just shrugged, turned around and went back to mindlessly setting up. You felt relief wash over you as she looked away, and you could once again get lost in your own thoughts and anxieties.

You mindlessly laid cups and other dumb decorations out, Matt’s face continuously crossing your mind. You found yourself smiling every time you played his words over in your head. His voice like silk as it wrapped around your body, warmth flowing through you as his lips whispered ‘You are extremely beautiful’ over and over again. You felt your heart racing, and you took a deep breath as you were brought back into reality by the vibration of your phone in your pocket.

You grabbed it, only to see you had multiple missed calls from your brother. ‘Fuck’, you thought. He knew, he somehow knew about your little flirt session with Matt. You shook your head in distress, preparing for the oncoming conversation as you reluctantly pressed the answer button and brought the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You muttered, squeezing your eyes shut to bear the impending rage from your brother.

“Jesus, I've called you like 18 times? What’s your deal?” He laughed, his voice full of his normal light and cheery tone. You took a sigh of relief after you realized he didn’t know a thing.

“Sorry, uh, helping Callie set everything up. Must’ve put my phone down and forgot it somewhere.”

“Well I need to know what liquor and illegal substances you’d like me to bring tonight- I’ve only got like an hour!” He said urgently.

“Uh, honestly whatever you want. We’ve got a few bottles here but nothing you’d like, probably.”

“You sound distracted, you all good?” You could head the concern in his voice, and you rolled your eyes aggressively.

“Everyone keeps asking me that today and it’s pretty annoying. I’m just trying to set up a party I don’t really want to be involved in and everyone keeps bothering me!”

“Jesus, grumpy pants. Looks like someone needs a nap... or a blunt.” Danny laughed quietly, and you bit your tongue to stop yourself from yelling at him again.

“Sorry. On edge today. Don’t want to talk about it.”

“No worries. I’ll see you later, okay? Try and cheer up a bit by then, I’d like to make a good impression on Matt.” Danny hung up quickly after that, and the word ‘Matt” kept ringing in your head over and over like a church bell. You put your phone down on the table and looked up at Callie, who was adjusting your work on the cups table.

“I need a drink,” you groaned.

“A little pregame shot, I love it!” She squealed, prancing over to the bottles and pouring shots for the two of you. You downed yours quickly, letting the liquor burn through your insides. You were hoping, after enough of it, it would burn through any thoughts you had of him.

After another shot, the next hour before the guests arrived flew by. Callie put on some music and you danced your worries away, deciding which outfit to wear by rampaging through your closet. You kept fighting the urge to look as sexy as possible, one half of you wanting Matt’s jaw to drop as soon as he saw you, and the other half wanting him to ignore you all night. You couldn’t resist the temptation, though, and chose an extremely well fitting and low cut dress that accentuated all of your best features perfectly.

“God, you are literally the perfect specimen,” Callie giggled as you walked out of your room to show off. “Who the fuck are you trying to impress?”

“No one!” You responded, raising your eyes at her. “Can’t I just look good for myself?”

“Not that good. That is for someone. I know you.” You were saved by the ringing of your doorbell, and you smiled, relieved.

“Whatever you say. Go welcome your guests,” you motioned to the door. Callie just rolled her eyes and walked gleefully over to the entryway to welcome your first partygoers.

A few more groups of people rolled in, and you paid no attention as you were too busy making yourself another strong drink. You poured sloppily into the cup, giggling as splashes of soda and vodka spilled down the sides of your cup.

“You better watch out there, pretty girl. Making quite a mess.”

You turned around quickly, Matt’s voice making you jump in surprise.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He smiled brightly, his perfect face begging to be touched, adored, kissed. You looked at every part of him, every beautiful part of him, stuttering to get words out.

“No... you’re... it’s okay. Sorry.” You put the bottle back down on the table and picked up your cup, taking a large swig, and nearly gagging on the taste of the strong liquor.

“Can I get in there and make a drink?” His eyes travelled up and down your body, his lips slightly pursing at the sight of you. You felt your heart pounding through your chest and he eyed you. His eyes finally locked on yours, his gaze paralyzing, your body refusing to move.

“Of course. We have lots of options. Anything you want,” you managed to squeak out, still unable to draw yourself away from his gaze. His eyes didn’t leave yours, and he smiled slightly, reaching his hand out to grab a bottle. For a split second you thought he was reaching out to touch you, and when you thought about the feeling of his skin on yours, you felt yourself melt. Desire and craving washed over your body in a wave that you couldn’t push away even if you tried.

“Thank you. I’ll see you around, (Y/N).” He finally looked away, and began walking back towards the small group of people who had gathered in your living room, including Callie and your brother. You felt relief as you were able to breath again, your body relaxing as he got farther and farther away. You waited a few moments before following him to join the rest of your friends.

“Ah, there you are, my sister!” Danny yelled, wrapping you in his arms so abruptly that you almost spilled your drink everywhere.

“Hey bud!” You hugged him back, grateful to have someone here to take your mind off of Matt.

“We were just about to play a fun little ice breaker game, since Matt is new to the group and all,” Danny motioned to Matt, who smiled and waved awkwardly as everyone stared at him.

“An ice breaker, really? What is this, college orientation?” You joked, taking another swig of your intensely strong drink.

“Shut up. Don’t be such an ass.” Danny rolled his eyes and pointed to an empty seat, and you realized it wasn’t worth fighting him. He loved to play stupid little games like this, that everyone else dreaded. But you have to admit, everyone always ended up having fun at the end of the day.

“What’s the game, Danny boy?” Callie cooed, getting comfy on the couch between a few of your other friends. She always had the biggest crush on him, although you forbid her from ever getting near him. It wasn’t her, you loved her and would love it even more if she was your sister. But he was such a dick, you knew he would break her heart, and you would not stand for that.

“Easy, everyone shares one surprising fact about themselves.”

“Oh god, I don’t think I have any,” someone moaned, and Danny just laughed.

“No worries, plenty of time to think. I can start. Uh.... I slept with my professors wife in college as revenge for him giving me a C- on my final.” Danny smiled proudly and took a long swig of beer. The group around you just groaned in disgust and laughed, but you knew the story. That wasn’t the entirety of it at all, in fact, Danny had fallen desperately in love with this woman and she crushed his heart by choosing her husband over him. But he would never tell all of that, because that doesn’t sound cool. Apparently you weren’t the only one who knew the truth, though, because Matt instinctively turned to you and looked at you in a way that read, ‘This guy is so full of shit.’ Apparently Matt and your brother were closer than you though, if he told him his biggest secret.

“Hmm, Matt, I think you should be next. Only fair since you’re the new guy.” Danny turned to Matt with an excited face, like a little kid on christmas.

“Oh man, alright. Well, I guess one thing that people have a hard time believing about me is that I am a bit of a hopeless romantic. I believe in soul mates, love at first sight. All of that bullshit. I’m a sucker for it.” Matt looked right at you as the words spilled out of his mouth, not even trying to hide the obviousness of what he was trying to say. You tried your best to look away from him, but you couldn’t pretend his words weren’t entrapping you.

“That’s super corny, bro,” Danny laughed, pushing Matt slightly. He just shrugged, and took a sip of vodka straight from the bottle. Danny bothered a few more people about their secrets, and you listened intently to stories about shoplifting and coke addictions, trying to avoid his obvious gaze. You knew he was staring at you, his eyes burning holes in your body as the liquor started to flow through him. He wanted you, he craved you, in a way he had never experienced before.

Love at first sight had always been a myth to you; something in books and movies. Fiction. Until you heard the words slip from his mouth. Love at first sight, soul mates. It was all impossible. But why couldn’t you stop thinking of him. Why did his state send shivers through your body? Why did it feel like you had been waiting for him your entire life, even though you just met?

“(Y/N)! It’s your turn!” You heard Danny yell, bringing you out of your thoughts once again.

“Uh... what’s going on again?” You murmured, the alcohol overcoming your brain as you tried to remember the dumb activity you were being forced to participate in.

“Alright, you might need to slow down on the drinks girl.” Callie laughed, pointing at the cup in your hand.

“I’m fine. Just lost my train of thought!”

“Tell us a surprising fact about yourself,” Matt chimed in, a flirtatious smile plastered across his face.

“Uh, right. Well... I have a really huge record collection. It’s kind of my hobby.” You shrugged, nodding your head slowly as the group around you seemed let down by the less than flashy secret.

“You’re kidding! I collect vinyls too. I have like a thousand,” Mattresponded, his eyes lighting up at the realization that he finally had a way to talk to you.

“You should show him your collection, (Y/N), it’s ridiculously impressive,” Callie said, nodding in excitement. Your heart stopped at her words, hoping that Matt would say ‘Another time!’ and you would forget about the entire interaction. But you knew he would take up any offer to be alone with you; and a part of you was hoping he would.

“I’d love to see it,” Matt said slowly, his voice now a serious tone as he waited nervously for your response.

“Uh... of course. Does anyone else want to see?” You asked, in one final last ditch effort to protect yourself from being alone with him. But the room had already moved on from you, and no one even heard you ask the question. You looked up at Matt, his perfect smile once again showing itself.

“Guess it’s just you and I, pretty girl.” He whispered to you, his hand on your shoulder. He leaned in as he spoke to you, as if to keep the nickname a secret. You looked around in hopes that someone noticed, someone would put a stop to it. But everyone had already moved on, started new conversations, brought themselves deeper into a state of inebriation. No one saw either of you, and you could easily slip away into the night with him.

You stood up slowly, and motioned for Matt to follow you into your room. He eagerly followed behind, not a single soul in the room even realizing you were leaving. You felt your heart pounding in anticipation and nervousness, not knowing how the next few minutes would play out. You took a few deep breaths to control yourself before opening the door to your room and letting Matt follow.

“Open or closed?” He asked, his hand gripped on the door handle as he awaited your response.

“Closed. I don’t like people seeing my personal space,” you said, moving over to the shelves that held your vinyls. Matt nodded and closed the door lightly, following you over to your collection.

You walked to the corner of your small, cluttered bedroom. Sat in the corner was multiple shelving units, all packed high and bending under the weight of your numerous records. Next to the shelves was a small desk, which your record player sat beautifully on top of. Your room was overwhelming to a stranger's eye, but every single thing in there had a purpose, to you. It was your sanctuary. And it wasn’t a place you regularly invited strangers. You barely ever let Callie or Danny in there. But seeing him stand there, gazing in fascination at your records, felt very comfortable. You knew that he would respect your space, and not question it. It was a nice feeling to be able to share something so private with someone.

“Wow... this is amazing (Y/N)... you have fantastic taste in music,” he whispered, running his hands up and down the records.

“Thank you. Some of them I don’t really listen to, they’ve just been collected from garage sales and thrift stores over the years.” You watched him in awe, every feature glowing in the low light of your room. He smiled at certain titles, pulling things out delicately to look at the covers. He was beautiful, perfect. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

“Do you wanna smoke a blunt?” He asked, turning to you in excitement as he pulled out a bag of weed from his pocket.

“Of course. Just crack the window,” you responded, your eyes still locked on him.

“Perfect! Let’s listen to something, too. Do you mind rolling so I can pick something out?” He asked, handing you the plastic bag. Your hand touched his as you grabbed it from him, and you felt time freeze as your skin made contact. He was warm, soft, angelic in his touch. You wanted more, you craved more. But you let go, pulling yourself away.

You watched him pull out various records and contemplate what to put on as you carefully rolled a blunt to smoke. His face was focused and concentrated, and the furrow in his brow made you smile. You couldn’t help but smile around him. He finally pulled out an album you immediately recognized as (Y/F/A).

“How did you know?” You asked, watching him as he delicately took the record out and placed it on your player.

“What?” He giggled, biting his lip as he looked up at you.

“That's my favorite album.”

“You’re joking. It’s mine, too.” He looked up at you, your eyes once again meeting. You didn’t need to speak to know what was going through his mind. The two of you were both thinking the same thing. He broke the stare first to start playing the music, his hands gently placing the needle on the record.

The music began quietly, but filled the room around you. You lit up the blunt and began to smoke, a wave of happiness coming over you as you took in your surroundings. A beautiful boy, your favorite music, some fantastic weed. It was paradise. It was pure bliss.

You smoked the blunt in silence, both of you taking in the beauty of the music, no need for words. You watched him, his movements, enthralled by his every move. The light from the blunt lit up his face in an almost angelic way, making your heart race every time he took a puff. The more high you got, the more you wanted to touch him, feel him, kiss him, love him. Love at first sight, it’s bull shit, right? But what if it isn’t? What if it’s sitting right in front of you?

“Dance with me.” Matt said, standing up quickly and reaching out his hand.

“I... what?” You asked, giggling slightly at the man who was standing in front of you.

“Dance with me. You know you want to.” He raises his eyebrows at you, hand still stuck out waiting for you. You rolled your eyes, a small laugh escaping your lips as you grabbed his hand and stood up. He wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. The smell of smoke and mint immediately overtook you, the warmth of his body wrapping you in comfort. Being in his arms, it was the most calming feeling in the world. It was the best feeling in the world.

In that moment, nothing else mattered to you except being with him. You would do anything to hold on to that moment. You reached your hand up to his face and touched it gently, the softened of his skin flowing on your fingertips. You brushed the few stray wisps of hair away from his face before bringing your lips up to his.

There are many different types of kisses in the world. You first kiss, which is awkward and usually terrible. A sad kiss, one where you know it will be your last kiss for a while. A lustful kiss, where you can’t keep your hands off of each other and want nothing more than to rip clothes off. But this kiss... this was a kiss you had never experienced before. It was a kiss that filled your entire body; flooded you with light and calmness, made every bad thing you’ve ever felt disappear into thin air as your lips pressed against his. It was a kiss that you knew was saved especially between two people who were meant to be. A kiss between soul mates.

As your lips worked effortlessly with his, everything else in the world disappeared except for you and him. You melted into each other, two paints seamlessly coming together to create a beautiful piece of art. You never wanted to let go of him. You never would, if it was up to you. But you needed a second, a second to catch your breath, a second to ground yourself back to reality.

You pulled away from him, your hands still locked in his hair and his on your waist. “We should go back out there. We don’t want to look suspicious,” you whispered, suddenly remembering the circumstances that led you in here in the first place.

“Of course, that’s for the best. But I promise you this is not the end of us.” Matt kissed your cheek and winked flirtatiously before heading back out to your living room. You sat quietly for a moment, your heart racing and your breathing unsteady. In that moment, you knew that was it. That was the last first kiss of your life.

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader

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mulberrymice · 5 years ago

Text

Locked In part 2

Summary: Bucky and Y/n finally get out of the closet Bucky is forced to face feelings he never knew he had or was aloud to have. Afraid of rejection and the opinions of other, he has to decide if he’ll open up, or push everyone away.

Word count: 2,042

A/n: I’m sorry if this one isn’t as good 😬 I tried my best, there’s a lot of Buckys pov in this lmk what y’all like and don’t like!

I try to move away from Bucky only to make it worse. He pulls his hand up to cover his face. I try my best to move away from him but my back is pressed hard against the wall. I can feel him getting harder. He lets out a breathy sigh. I look up at him, he glances down at me from behind his hand, his eyes unwavering.

He’s even more handsome up close.

—Buckys pov—

I pull my hand up to cover my face, and to cover any sounds I make. Every time he moves, the friction drives me insane. I feel myself getting harder. Hard over, Y/n. He presses against me and I can’t stop the whisper of a moan that escapes my throat. I look down at Y/n, wondering if he heard. He looks up at me, lips slightly parted, I can’t take my eyes off him.

This is wrong. So very wrong.

—Readers pov—

Flustered, I look away and try to focus on moving off him. I try to wriggle my way to the side but that gets me a soft groan from Bucky. Maybe try to move to the other corner? Bucky suddenly grabs me by my hips. “Please… just stop moving..” he begs softly. I look in his eyes, his pupils are huge and his face is tinted red. He looks from my eyes to my lips, then back again.

Did he just look at my lips? No, he’s not- that’s not him.

I obey and try not to move, however I was standing on my tip toes when Bucky told me to stay still. Bucky turns on his com “Natasha? Would you be able to make it up to where we are?” As he gives her directions my shoe slips and I fall back onto my feet, “We’re in the third offi- ugh office o-on the right..” he sputters his words out as fast as he can so he can turn his com off. He leans his head back against the wall and lets out a shaky sigh.

—Buckys pov—

He looks away and tries to move off me. If he keeps moving I swear to god- I bite my lip holding back a groan. I can’t take it anymore. I grab his hips, pushing him to the wall. “Please… just stop moving..” I look in his eyes, his beautiful eyes. I glance down at his lips once more, god what I’d give to taste them

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Don’t think that

He finally stops squirming. I turn my com on and get in contact with Natasha. “Natasha? Would you be able to make it to where we are?” She agrees and I give her a layout of the building. I’m trying to think of anything but Y/n right now. “We’re in the third offi- ugh..” Y/n pushed down on me so suddenly I couldn’t even try to hide my moan. “Office o-on the right…” I stumble over my words, spitting them out fast so I can turn my com off. I throw my head back.

I’m so fucking embarrassed I can’t even look at him. I can’t.

—Readers pov—

Does he think I did it on purpose? Oh god I hope he’s not mad.

Once again I’m trying to move off him, only to be pressing against him, “I’m so sorry my food slipped and I-“ Bucky cuts me off “I’m begging you not to move..” he’s pleading with me now and I feel terrible. This is all my fault isn’t it? We hear someone enter and close the door behind them. There’s silence for a moment, “Barnes? Y/n?” Natasha whispered our names.

I tapped quietly on the door and Natasha came over and unlocked the door. Bucky basically jumps out of the coat closet with his back facing the two of you, “ We should all go down separately, we don’t want to draw attention, I’ll go first, then Natasha, then Y/n.” He spoke very fast, obviously trying to get out of the room as fast as possible. Once he left Natasha looked at me, “What the hell happened??” She questioned.

Did he really want to get away from me that badly?

—Buckys pov—

He starts to move, again. “I’m so sorry my food slipped and I-“ I cut him off, I knew it wasn’t his fault, I told him not to move to begin with. “I’m begging you not to move..” Once more he freezes. We hear the door open and close, not long after Natasha calls our names. She quickly unlocks the door, as soon as it’s open I jump out. I can’t- if Natasha sees I’ve pitched-a-tent, I’ll never hear the end of it. Ever.

Was it just the friction? Or was it being so close to him, having him flush against me, so close I can smell his cologne? I can’t think right now.

I face my back to them in an attempt to hide my... situation. “We should all go down separately, we don’t want to draw attention.” I allow myself to go first, I can’t be seen like this. Then Natasha, then Y/n, I want as much time away from him as I can get, I can’t get on the quinjet like this.

I walk to the jet as fast as I can. I’m so confused and angry at myself. I glare at the sidewalk, angry for how I acted. My mind is a mess, my emotions are indescribable. I just need to get on the jet and think..

—Readers pov—

“I .. uh I’ll- I’ll tell you later, let’s just get out. I got the papers” I held up the papers before folding them and tucking them in my suit. Natasha left and I was alone with my thoughts as I tried to process what the hell just happened.

I must have been rubbing against him I guess? Or maybe he likes me- no that’s stupid.. right?

I step out and make my way down the hallway and out into the main room. It’s hard to leave when so many people are staring, it’s making me a little uncomfortable. Thankfully, I was able to exit without issue.

I see Clint waiting for me by the building entrance “You alright?” He asks as we make our way back to the quinjet. “I’m fine.. why?” Did Bucky say something? “Barnes came storming down the sidewalk less than five minutes ago, he looked pissed.” He told me as we got into the building's elevator to get up to the rooftop.

Once in the quinjet Bucky is sitting as far away from me as he can. He won’t even look at me. I’m not the only one who noticed either, “So are you two gonna tell us what happened in there?” Natasha questioned. Steve, who is very confused, “Did something happen? Were you not able to get the papers?” Just as he asked I pulled them out of my suit and handed them to him. He took them, looked at Bucky and I before heading to the front to talk to Clint. I can tell he’s gonna have a long chat with both of us to see what happened.

—Buckys pov—

Stepping foot into the quinjet I take the furthest seat from Y/n’s. He always sits in the same spot, and I sit across from him. I sit up in the front near Clint. I hear him step on and can see him out of the corner of my eye, he looks sad.

“So are you two gonna tell us what happened in there?” Natasha asks. I clench my jaw, I really don’t want to talk about it. Steve steps over and asked what went wrong, Y/n hands him the papers. Steve glances at us but goes back to talking to Clint. I can tell by the look in his eyes he’s going hunt me down later for answers.

—Readers pov—

“Why did you turn your coms off anyway?” She asked, “I originally turned mine off so I could hear people coming easier,” I mumble under my breath “obviously that didn’t work, genius.” Bucky heard and glanced in your direction. She looks to Bucky who just shrugs. She gives him a confused face, that’s not the answer she wanted.

The ride back is mostly quiet except for Clint and Steve’s chit chat. Once we land, Bucky storms off the quinjet, like a bat out of hell. I try to sneak off but someone rests their hand on my shoulder. I sigh, knowing exactly who it is. “I don’t really think I-“ Steve cuts me off “What happened there, I haven’t seen him like this in awhile.” Steve commented.

What do I even tell him? I don’t know if Bucky would even want me to tell..

We stand in silence for a moment, he gives me time to think how to phrase things. “Look Steve, we-“ once again I’m cut off, this time by Bucky. I avert my gaze to the floor and try to act as if nothing happened. Steve notices, I can tell, but he doesn’t mention it.

“Steve, I need to talk with you. Now. In private.” He looks at me as he emphasized the last part. “I’ll go! Talk to ya later, Cap!” I say, jogging off and into the building. Steve calls for me to come back but I ignore him. Once inside I watch them. I have no idea what they’re saying but they look like they’re yelling.

—Buckys pov—

I walk up to Y/n and Steve, I couldn’t help but notice Y/n looking away from me. I cut off his sentence. “Steve, I need to talk with you. Now. In private.” The last part I could’ve said kinder, but I can’t focus when he’s near. I watch him run back up to the building, Steve tries to call him back but he’s already gone.

“What the hell happened? The two of you aren’t even talking?” Steve asks pointing out our weird actions. He pauses and waits for my response.

What do I say? What would Y/n say? Stop thinking of him.

“I don’t think Y/n can come on missions anymore.” I spat out the first thing that came to mind. “He damn near got us caught!” I say raising my voice, I don’t know why I’m saying this, maybe some distance from me would be good for him?

“What is this? You were so adamant that he was ready! Why are you dodging my questions?” He stops and take a breath to calm down. “What. Happened?”

I can’t tell him- no one would understand. I don’t even know if I understand it.

I clenched my jaw and sighed. “I can’t tell you..” I spoke quietly as if someone else would hear. “I just- Im completely and utterly enthralled by him..” it feels good to get it off my chest but I fear what Steve will even say. I walk inside before he can respond,ignoring Steve’s calls for me. I walk to the elevator and hop in. I lean against the wall, my mind is a mess, I wouldn’t even know where to start if we spoke. I think I ruined any friendship we had.

Stepping out of the elevator I stop outside my room. His room is right beside mine, I take a couple steps and I’m standing in front of his door. Going to knock I hesitate and walk away. Of course just then he walks out of his room. We look at each other and share a moment of silence.

Of fucking course he looks like an angel, that only makes this harder.

“Can..” I pick my head up hearing him speak. “Do you think.. uh we could talk? We don’t have to right now if you don’t feel-“ “we can talk.” I pause, I’ve cut him off again. “When-whenever you want, we can talk”

“Can we talk in your room?” He takes a step forward, I don’t stop him. I open the door and let him in, he looks around and sits on the corner of my bed.

He’s here. In my room. On my bed. He’s- No, I have to stop thinking about him like this.

“Bucky..?”

#bucky x male!reader #bucky x male reader #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #lmk if yall want a part three!#i wasnt gonna do another part butttt #james buchanan barnes

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