Booptillon - Im Just Here To Like Things

Still Falling For You, Part Two - Peter Sutherland x Reader

Synopsis ! Peter meets another agent assigned to protect Rose, and to his surprise, it's his high school sweetheart--you. (Time skip to the fight on the beach.) Pairing ! Peter Sutherland x fem!reader Genres ! Friends-to-lovers, (sort of) enemies-to-lovers Warnings ! Angst, fluff, language, violence, innuendos, kissing, no use of y/n Disclaimers ! Everything I know about the FBI is from TV shows, so this might be an unintentional crossover with Criminal Minds? Idk, it just happened Word Count - 1857

" It took us a while Because we were young and unsure With love on the line What if we both would need more But all your flaws and scars are mine Still falling for you " - Still Falling For You, Ellie Goulding

Masterlist, Part One

Hi! I'm The Anon Of "Still Falling For You" And I Just Want To Say Thank You. Yo Do Such An Amazing Job

The car ride to the hotel had created a frostiness between you and Peter. In fact, you weren’t sure how this ‘partnership’ would work with the amount of tension brought up. But once you’d gotten to the hotel, you both went into FBI autopilot when you saw that the Secret Service agents that were supposed to be in the lobby were gone.

Your introduction to Rose was brief, but once you’d managed to actually take a breather and talk to her, Peter’s suspicion turned out to be true. You and Rose became fast friends, and yes, the two of you would become huge pains in his ass, which would spark up heated arguments and playful banter between you and Peter.

But even through all of that friction you had fallen into the easy rhythm you’d once had with Peter years and years ago. The feelings you had thought you’d pushed deep within you had been stirred up like dust on a bookshelf, and the novel you’d picked up was one you were revisiting. Was it because it was familiar and comfortable, or because it was one that you’d never gotten over and still continued to love? Or maybe, just maybe, that story wasn’t finished yet.

Perhaps it was all of the above.

Peter had changed over the years, not just physically but mentally. He was no longer the goofy boy gazing at you with puppy dog-heart eyes. He had grown up and was a full-blown golden retriever, protective and loyal to a fault. You knew his past with his father, and you’d also heard about the accusations against him for the metro bombing one year ago. You didn’t purposefully keep yourself aware of what was going on in Peter’s life, but a supposed terrorist attack in DC made the news—with Peter in the headlines. You’d heard the rumors of his involvement, but you didn’t believe them. The Peter you knew would never do such a thing. The Peter before you now wouldn’t either, no matter what he’d gone through.

His perseverance was what you had always admired most about him growing up; Peter had never let the negative affect him. His first year of high school, he didn’t make the basketball team, so for the next year, he worked even harder to improve his skills. You had even helped him, not that you were much competition.

Then Peter’s father was arrested, and his whole world turned upside down. It was a new kind of negative, one that Peter didn’t know how to handle. It had taken him down a dark path, but he emerged into the light as an FBI agent, hoping to do some good for his country.

If you were being honest, discovering how much Peter had accomplished in his life had wounded your pride. It might be petty, but it had hurt to know that he hadn’t needed you to support him and cheer him on during the ups and downs of his life. You had thought that you would always be there for each other. You thought that because he didn’t need you, you didn’t need him either.

So you worked endlessly to become a lawyer, and then you switched career paths and joined the BAU in Quantico. It was the FBI like Peter, but at least you wouldn’t have to interact with him.

Until there was a request from the White House for an agent who specialized in behavioral analysis, and your boss recommended you.

You had never thought you’d run into Peter, and when you did, you deflected and tried to keep things professional and distant between you.

But spending time with him again—even through the absolute shit show going on—you could see that the Peter you’d known, your Peter, was still there, and it hit you like a pile of bricks.

You discovered this when he left you and Rose at the Georgetown library. When Rose mentioned that she didn’t get into Stanford, Peter brought up the fact that you had, and then he’d begun to tease you about “knowing absolutely everything because you went to fancy-ass Stanford.”

That had been it for you. That was the moment you realized that your love for him had never faded, and you were desperate to tell him.

You wanted to tell him that you had never loved anyone as much as you loved him, that there had been nights where you would dream of him and remember how he had made you quiver beneath him, that he could still make your knees go weak just by smiling at you.

You wanted to tell him everything.

Then Peter had to go talk to Diane Farr, so he dropped you and Rose off at his friend Cisco’s place. You didn’t get the chance to talk to him in private. When he got back, you promised yourself, you would tell him.

But of course, everything had turned to shit again.

Peter had discovered that Farr was in on everything, so he told Cisco to drive you and Rose to the pier, but the maniacs out to kill Rose were following you. You thought you had ditched them, so Cisco dropped Rose you and off so you could get away.

When Peter finally made it to the beach and killed the man who’d shot at your group of three in the hotel ballroom, he realized that you weren’t there. Rose told him that when Cisco dropped the two of you off, the hitman had found you, so you split up to try to lure him away. Your training and experience at the BAU led you to believe that the hitman wouldn’t stray from trying to kill his target, so you told Rose to run as you started firing your gun at the hitman. You led him down a different path than the one Rose had taken, and the last thing Rose had heard was several more rounds of gunshots before the hitman had found her again.

Clutching the knife wound in his side, Peter tried to stand and Rose had to help him up. He was frantic, calling your burner until his own went dead, and then he couldn’t breathe, his words coming out in stutters and pants.

“I have to find her, Rose. I—I can’t lose her again, I have to—“

“Peter!”

Your voice broke through the darkness of Peter’s mind and the night surrounding him, and when you ran out from the tree line onto the rocky shore, it was as if everything was clear again.

You were a bit disheveled, a bloody gash on your forehead, and you were limping from graze from a bullet on your leg, but nothing was broken or seriously injured. Rose helped the two of you to a vehicle and drove to where Peter’s godfather kept his boat.

It was after Rose helped you and Peter clean your wounds when the three of you heard on the radio that Cisco had been killed and Peter was being framed for kidnapping the Vice President’s daughter. For years, Peter had worked so hard to make a name for himself that didn’t connect him to his father and his supposed crimes. And with a single message to the public, Peter was back at square one.

You and Rose had left Peter to himself on the deck of the boat as you sailed out over the water, but after a while, you decided to join him to see if you could bring him some comfort.

Peter had thrown Kevin into the water, and you sat next to him, the two of you dangling your legs over the edge of the boat.

“I’m so sorry, Peter,” you hummed, “For everything.”

Peter sighed. “The world is so fucked up right now.”

You nodded, hesitant to continue where you wanted to go. “It is, but I’m also sorry about what happened between us…back then.”

“Oh,” he said, turning to you from looking out upon the water. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

You shook your head. “Yes, there is. I was still holding something back, and I guess I wanted to prove something to myself, that I didn’t need you, because you managed to make something of yourself and I wasn’t there to witness it, I—“

You let out a groan, frustrated with how your words were coming out wrong and not making sense.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I’m not blaming you. It’s me and how I’m stubborn and defiant, and I always try to prove people wrong even though they have nothing against me. My boss says that’s why I run act before I think, like running headfirst into danger without a second thought.”

Surprisingly, Peter chuckled at that. “I can get that. You trying to distract that maniac at the park? It was completely reckless. I wanted to throttle you, you made me so worried.”

“Damn, Sutherland, I didn’t think you’d be so worried about me,” you joked, nudging him with your shoulder.

You watched the expression in his eyes turn from light and playful to serious and passionate.

“Fuck,” Peter swore, muttering your name under his breath as he pulled away and began to pace despite his side bleeding. “Of course I was worried. I will always worry for you. I didn’t know what had happened, and when Rose told me that you’d split up, I was about to search every inch of the park in order to find you. I wouldn’t rest until I got you back.”

You took in the intensity of his eyes, and you knew he was serious. “Peter, you were hurt. There’s no way you would’ve—“

“It wouldn’t have mattered!” He interrupted, his voice now close to breaking. It shocked you, how concerned and emotional he was.

“Peter, what are you—“

“Damn it,” Peter cursed, turning to face you and cradling your face in his hands. “I could be missing all four of my limbs and I would still find a way to get to you.”

You closed your eyes, your skin remembering the way his touch felt. It was like cool water quenching your thirst, and nothing had ever felt so good. “God, Peter, you still know how to make me fall for you.”

When you opened your eyes, Peter’s face was so close to yours, you could make out every freckle on his skin. You glanced down at his lips, then back to his eyes, a brown as rich and delectable as chocolate.

Peter kissed you then, and it was as if the world was suddenly set right from being upside down and misaligned for so long. The way his mouth moved against yours sent tingles down your spine, and he still tasted sweet and fresh, like taking a bite out of a ripe, red apple.

It made you crave more.

You ran your hands over his shoulders, and he gripped your waist tightly, lifting you to move and straddle his lap. Peter held you close as the boat rocked with the waves, kissing you until you were breathless, and you knew that the two of you would never let each other go again.

The way I could've written an entire book with this idea, my God. Omg, should I?