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#in an attempt to try not to ever lose the thing that means more to him than anything else in the world. qi inadvertantly ensures he will
haodore · 3 days
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guidance · sung hanbin
summary. being an idol with hanbin as your older brother.
sung hanbin x sister!reader · platonic, fluff, drabble · 0.8k words · masterlist
! : fem!reader, idol!hanbin, idol!reader, tiny bit of angst, r being hated on, everything else is just fluff and comfort.
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You were Hanbin’s biggest fan—before the world ever got to know who he was. You cheered him up when he was at his lowest, and you cheered him on when he was announced as second place for the new k-pop group ZeroBaseOne. You couldn’t be prouder.
It was really encouraging to see what could be achieved. You saw him living out his dreams as you continued to practice hard. His words of comfort were always sent to you through a message, over the phone, or in person as he hugged you and pat the back of your head.
Part of you was beginning to lose hope that you would ever debut, but you pushed forward.
Thank goodness you did, because you soon found out you were going to be finally making your debut. You were in a group with four other girls, and they were some of your closest friends. You had been training with two of them for some time, and had gotten to know the other two a few months ago. They were like your family.
When Hanbin found out, he was overjoyed. He found the nearest time in both his and your schedule to visit you, bringing you flowers and some of your favourite snacks as a gift. You almost burst to tears from both the gesture and from the exhaustion you went through to make it to this point.
He saw the way your lower lip trembled almost immediately and he pulled you into his embrace, a warm laugh leaving his mouth. “Don’t cry~“ He had said, a hand on the back of your head. “You finally did it.” He said pridefully.
By the time your debut came around, you were more stressed than ever. Endless promotions, sleepless nights… it was a lot. The one thing that kept you going? The nightly messages from your big brother. ‘First performance today! You did amazing 🫶’, ‘Make sure to rest well :)’, ‘Try not to overwork yourself. Take breaks when possible ❤️’.
It was amazing what a quick text message could do for your motivation. It helped so much.
When things eventually took a turn, and you made a small mistake in one of your performances, the amount of hate you got was unbelievable. Who would’ve thought people would have so much to say about you tripping over your feet? It was only the slightest stumble. ‘All that training… just to mess up in the first month of being an idol?’, ‘This girl wasn’t ready. Maybe i’m an ot4 stan now…’, ‘Why did the company even put her in this group? She’s not even adding anything to it.’
K-Pop fans don’t seem to think their idols see everything they post, but they see a lot more than anyone would even think. And when suddenly you’re a trending topic amongst multiple K-Pop fandoms?… you definitely heard the things that were being said about you.
You knew you shouldn’t let it get to you, but it did. You cried into your pillow more times than you cared to admit, and it wasn’t until you heard your phone ringing that you realized you had someone who would be there to listen. Someone who knew you better than anyone.
“Y/nie~” His comforting voice flowed through the speaker. You tried to keep the tears back, but at his tone, they started rolling down your face again. He heard your hiccups and sniffles from his end and his lips went into a pout. “Don’t cry… I know it’s hard. I’ve been where you are before. People will freak out over the smallest things. It’s a bit pathetic.” He laughed, maybe attempting to maybe you laugh. Maybe for a moment you did laugh, the half-joyful noise breaking through your quiet sobs. You heard his hum in content at the sound.
He continued. “You made a small mistake, and that’s completely fine. you’re going to make mistakes, but since you’re so new to the industry, people are going to watch you a little closer, and they’re going to be a little meaner, but that doesn’t mean what they’re saying is true. You’re one of the most talented people i know—and I’ve known that for a long time.” He sighed, pausing for a moment. “If you ever need anything, I’m always here. You can call me any time and I’ll always get back to you.”
Your breath started to slow, and your crying started to lessen. He was right. “How about tomorrow we go hang out. You’re not doing anything right? You have a free day? Well, I’m free until noon, so we can hang out. How’s that sound?” At the end of his sentence his voice lifted up into that higher pitched tone he used with his maknae of his group often. You weren’t a stranger to the tone, and it made you laugh. “Okay, sounds good.”
You could tell that he was smiling through his light voice coming through the phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow, than. Goodnight. Rest well. Love you.” You smiled. “Love you, too.”
You were Hanbin’s biggest fan first, and he was yours. It was clear in the way he checked in on you, guided you through your new career, and lended a helping hand when you couldn’t pull yourself up.
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main taglist: @superlegend216
@ haodore
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kagoutiss · 6 months
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pelican town, ‘72
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dogearedheart · 2 months
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8i've been thinking about the last asks i got today. and i think it's better for me to take a step back from this account. i know the anon didn't mean anything by it, but i still feel like i am being a negative presence on here and weirding people out with who i am is nothing i want. so, i am not deleting or anything. i am just gonna be less present with sharing personal things or leaving tags. I'll probably be more active on my second account where i don't have that many followers :)
#i guess it affected me more than i'd like to#i don't want to make people uncomfortable#and i am sorry if i did that with any of my posts i know they have been overly emotional and maybe a bit insane#it's true that i am trying to deal with losing and finding peace i am not very good at this due to my intense emotions#and my fear of loneliness and losing people. i am also in a very bad depressive episode. i am aware that this isn't an excuse for any#of my behavior. i never had a support system so dealing with all this on my own and getting no therapist who is willing to see you#it's a downer. guilt is eating me alive and my mental condition is the something that has ruined a lot for me but it has never before done#such a terrible job before. recovering from that and dealing with the aftermath of this is exhausting and has taken a toll on my physical#and mental health i know this post doesn't mean anything to most of all and is at best confusing but i guess it's my poor attempt#of avoiding that people will hate me. i don't want to self-pity more than i already did. but i do that all on my own already.#i know that life is so much more difficult than fiction and you can't expect miracles or believe in faith to fix anything#i know there is no cure to who i am. i can only try to navigate it better in the future. it doesn't mean that i can't regret what i did.#that i can't feel guilty about it. i know that won't change anything but i am also trying to get better and i understand if that's not#visible. i just have to believe that one day it will be enough for people to say 'hey. i know you are fucked up.#and you hurt me and you've been a bitch. but we'll work on it. i believe in you.' otherwise i have to believe that this loneliness#is all there is and that i'm gonna die hollow#i don't want much. i just want some patience and peace#i want to believe that i am worthy of love and that i can get a future. and yes. me talking about wanting a wife and this stupid apple pie#life... maybe it's cliche and stupid but i have been alone for years and i am so tired of fighting. is it so bad that i don't want to do#this alone? and that goes for friends as well. i want to cook for people built things and tend to a garden to take care of animals#and to create instead of destroying for once.#i don't know why i am still writing i guess when the dam breaks... again. i am sorry for ever making people uncomfortable or even hurting#them that was never my intention. i promise#so i really hope. whoever is reading this. i hope you are doing alright. i hope you had/have a good day. tell the people you care about#you love them and enjoy the little things. read that book. eat that chocolate or do whatever brings you joy. the world is so difficult to#navigate but you are doing such a great job by just existing. you are making this world a better place with the light you radiate#the last thing I want to do something I never can forgive myself for is hurting people#not only but especially the ones I care about. but beyond that those I barely know too because I care about you guys too#I just don't want that... I want to leave the world better than I found it but I'm having a hard time doing it due to this stupid fucking#brain of mine.
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aro-aura · 3 months
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i always thought romantic love was the plague and i was a plague doctor.
so here's an aro-colored plague doctor
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me oversharing beneath the cut about how amatonormativity has screwed me up in ways I have never been screwed up before.
(rant beneath the cut is full of negativity, triggering, but perhaps relatable. idk. read at your own risk)
okay so let's have a mini story telling time about how romance plagued every aspect of my life until now.
My bestfriend in high school treated me of less value after she gets her boyfriend. This experience was what drove me into drawing plague doctors during valentines. These doodles were captioned with "Plague is in the air", because my friends in my circle told me to not hang out with her on that day because it's valentines day. So cool, I thought I should avoid them like they were the plague.
For the first half of college, I've been a wingman for way too many of my friends for my only female and best friend.
It has gotten to a point where the meaning of my companionship with my male friends had become solely for providing a connection to a girl they want to date.
In the long run, my bestfriend, who my 'friends' were pining for, actually has been pining for me. She asked if we could be a thing, I said yes because I thought that, romance isn't probably as disgusting as I think of it.
To protect tradition and to protect the feelings of the men she rejected (who I also wingmanned), we kept it hidden.
For the entire time, she emphasized how I was dense and oblivious about romance. For the entire time I was confused, disoriented, and even repulsed. I didn't know how to reciprocate and I certainly did not have THOSE feelings either at all.
Of course it didn't end well.
After that failed attempt at romance, I have been involved in three more encounters after that. Men suddenly started talking to me out of nowhere. Initially, I thought that they were just trying to make new friends. I didn't realize they were hitting on me but when I did, I cold-shouldered them out of my life.
The last one was the most traumatic. I have explicitly stated that he shouldn't attempt to romance me because I've admitted that I'm way too tired of dealing with it, but he was stubborn. He has also gone as far as sexualizing me against my will.
So yeah.
Amatonormativity made me lose faith in the meaning of my friendships.
It made me realize how friendship is easily overshadowed by romantic relationships.
It made me worry that my kindness is misread as a romantic gesture.
It made me constantly hate how friendship is only seen as a stepping stone for a romantic relationship.
And because amatonormativity has rendered all my significant connections meaningless, I'll spend every second of my life hating amatonormativity. I will always be repulsed at the concept that destroyed every goddamned friendship that I had. Nothing has ever made me feel THS sick. I will always think of it as the plague.
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hello-eden · 3 months
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Anchor
Tim Danny knew he would go far for family but it wasn't until now that he realized how far he literally would go.
Danny looked at the positive pregnancy test on the bathroom counter and tried to stop his tears both the joyful tears and the ones of anger.
He hates Vlad now more than ever for how he never decided to stabilize Dani. Even now that Danny is no longer Danny Vlad’s mistakes will still come back to bite him. 
Dani's decision to help Danny figure out what was going on ended up with her almost dying. Her core would have been destroyed if Danny had been a second later. 
Everyone's pretending things are back to normal.
Danny now has to figure out ways to hide this and how exactly he's going to tell anyone. The obvious answer is to not tell anyone and go into hiding, but after everything that happened someone's going to come look which means Danny is going to have to hide in plain sight.
Sometimes Danny regrets trying to help because in the end all it got him his throat slit, his entire identity ripped away and assassination attempts in his own home. Danny has no idea why he thought it would be any different now that Bruce is back.
Jason is barely civil with the family.
Dick has left the second he no longer has to be Batman. 
Stephanie has joined Cass and Hong Kong.  
Barbara is only talking to people when she's on Oracle Duty.
Damien is one bad Mission away from trying to kill him again. 
That's not even mentioning Bruce who is just living in ignorance that everything has not gone awry.
Denial is a strong thing. 
Danny doesn't even know why they agree to this. well they do know but they don't know why they didn't talk it out first.
they'd gotten quite good at getting all the logistics before they do something rash but they'll always be a Fenton running head first. All they want is for Dani to be safe after everything that happened; they are all secondary to Dani's well-being.
Danny forgot how unconditional love felt they are not going to lose the one person who cared about them 
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divinesolas · 2 months
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Your Reflection
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summary: rq; when the thoughts jacaerys has had his whole life finally can no longer be pushed down he seeks comfort in you
jacaerys targaryen x non targ!reader
w.c: 1.7k
c.w: just a lot of fluff, angst and some minor smut (oral)
perm jace taglist ! (open) @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 1 @jacesvelaryons s @earth4angels @itsemohours @valdezthg
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your head whips around at the slam of your room and you stand with wide eyes at the red eyed prince letting out shaky breaths as he swiftly makes his way towards you.
“jace.”
he pulls you into him and falls onto the bed where he lays on top of you, shoving his head into your neck while he lets out weak sobs. “she is being unreasonable” you place your head in his hair while letting out a deep breath. You knew well of his distain for his mothers idea him having ranted for far too long to you about it earlier that same day, to have the low born men and women attempt to claim dragons. bastards.
it was sensitive for him. you knew this far too well. He had gone to try and convince her to change her mind but clearly he had failed and you tried to come up with words that could bring him comfort. “does she not see how foolish this is? to let those people walk amongst us? those those…” he pulls his head away to look at you as he struggles to speak, his face clearly tormented and painful. “they are undeserving. unworthy. they are mongrels and monsters. born out of wedlock believing themselves to be fit for a role they were not made for,”
“are you talking about them or are you talking about yourself?”
he gulps at your words and his eyes well up, “what claim do i have if they claim a dragon? i do not have the hair, the skin, i am a fraud and everyone knows it. I am mere moments away from being stripped of everything i have left.” his head falls onto your chest as his chest heaves up and down with heavy breaths. “i cannot imagine how you feel. the shame you must feel walking down the halls and people staring at you, married to a bastard.”
You grip his face and make him look at you. Hes shocked to see the furry and angry on your face. “i will hear no more of this. you are jacaerys targaryen son of queen rhaenyra taragryen. heir to the iron throne nobody will contest that not. don’t you dare insinuate i am insulted or shamed to be seen with you it is an honor. everyday i wake up blessed to know i married such an honorable and truthful man and i would have it no other way.”
at this point tears are pouring down his face as he shakes his head finding himself refusing to listen to your words. “you could not possibly mean such a thing.” he whines ever so slightly when you bring your lips to his face and kiss the tears off his face, closing his eyes and he refuses to look at you. “i mean it and more. there is no other better man than you. your heritage means nothing to me. should anybody contest that remember you are a targaryen. they shall pay for their contestation with fire and blood.”
he says nothing in return, simply laying his head on your chest while silent tears continue to run down his face. you did not wish to push him to speak, your hands find the back of his head and play with his hair ever so slightly.
“what if they do contest it?” you peer down at him but he continues to stare at the lit fire in your fire pit. “what if after my mother dies they argue and fight and usurp my throne right under me as they have done her? what if there is another war and more people get hurt what if you,,,” His words end up choked up in his throat as he shakes with sobs, you cant help but feel your own eyes begin to water. He’s scared. just a scared young man who doesn’t wish to lose anyone or anything else.
one of your hands soothe his back as you press a kiss to his forehead while your other one cups his face to wipe away his tears. you cannot say anything to console him, knowing this is an issue that runs deeper into his consciousness than you will ever be able to fix by your lonesome. So when you roll him off you he sits up and stares at you in horror as you begin to walk off. his mouth shakily opens to call after you to beg you to stay but his words die on his tongue and he can just let out a meek gasp.
When you arrive back into the room he has his head in his hands while he cries into them. He looks up at you when you place a leather bag next to and tries to catch his breath. His pupils bounce around your face as your hands grab his top and begin to pull it off of him. He allows you, making no move to stop you despite his confusion. “lay on your stomach.” He pauses sniffing as he folds his hands in his lap. When he doesn’t move your cup his face and press a light kiss against his furrowed brows.
He silently pulls away and rolls to lay on his back as you had asked. He has no clue what you’re doing and almost turns to ask you after theres been no movement or talking from you for a bit until he feels you straddle his back and your hands begin to run through his hair. He can smell the oil on your fingers as you delicately run them throughout his curls. He lets out a pleased hum as your nails scratch into his head.
he does not say anything simply allowing you to shower him in affections he normally does not allow you to. cooing at him and pecking all over his back and head. As you move down to massage his neck and back he finds himself overwhelmed with the display of affection and love you’re showering him with he has no clue what to do or say.
Hes even more so embarrassed when you flip him around and he’s hard as a rock. Hes not even feeling sexual in that moment but he’s body is flighting against him. He whines slightly and wishes he could explain himself but he cant. You dont seem to mind. simply dripping more oil onto his skin and working your hands to ease his tension.
He closes his eyes and tries to will it away while you continue to press kisses onto his chest and stomach but if anything it only gets worse at your pure display of love. He hopes he is not ruining this just as he ruins everything. He has never felt so loved in his life he has never felt so at peace since before the war he wants to live in this feeling forever.
His eyes shoot open when you tug his pants down his legs leaving him completely bare and he looks at you alarmed. You say nothing however simply eyeing him as you kiss around his thighs and massage the parts your lips are not. He is breathless as he watches you. When you suddenly stop your movements and look at him he does not know what to do. “i,, shouldn’t i,,, you should,,” The look you have on your face as him stumbling and stuttering over his words. He’s never like this. He would never allow you to do this to him normally. He would insist he get you off first or even outright forbid you to even do something like this more content with pleasing you.
Yet he cant help but be greedy today, the self centered part of him wins and he finds himself nodding to you. He will regret this later he knows he will but when you peck light kissing along his throbbing cock he throws his head back with a moan without a care in the world. His hands grip at the sheets under him when you tongue at his slit slurping up some of his precum before wrapping your lips fully around him.
He understands why some men who are less honorable as he seek out these pleasures often and he almost wishes he allowed you do to this more often. When your hands come to cup and play with his balls his legs shake and he whimpers. He swears he’s going to rip the bedsheets the way he’s gripping at them. His face burns slightly in humiliation and more so in pleasure. sweat drips down the sides of his forehead into his newly oiled hair as he hips uncontrollable thrust up into your mouth where he spews out and apology but you simply hum around him sending another shiver up his spine.
his whole body is shaking with pleasure. He had already been sensitive and relaxed from your overwhelming intimacy he can barely control himself now. he finds himself chanting your name mixed and mumbled with i love you’s. He releases unexpectedly after some louder groans and moans and his eyes well up again as he watches you swallow it down. “im sorry im sorry.” even when he does allow you to do this he never lets himself release in your mouth fearing it may be too much for you and usually just allows himself to spend on your chest.
You climb up to him and press a loving kiss against his lips. He does not mind he can taste himself on your lips as he presses his lips firmly back against yours. The action speaking louder than any words could. He insist he should do something for you in return but the way his eyes droop and struggle to stay open you know he is mere moments from falling asleep. You smile at him and peck his cheek as you shake your head at him. He tries to argue with falters under your comforting hands and sweet nothings into his ear.
He settles with a faint smile on his face the first one you’ve seen on him in many moons. when you rub your hands on his chest he falls asleep at the comfort but not being letting another i love you slip through his lips. His smile grows when he hears you return it before drifting off to sleep where he knows he’ll meet you there too
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furuu · 19 days
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◝ ‿    After an hour of playing with the King of Curses, you coaxed him sweetly, your voice soft and soothing. His lower set of eyes fluttered, heavy with exhaustion, as he struggled to stay awake, lulled by your gentle tone and tender words.
"Come now, my lord," you cooed, noticing his stubbornness manifesting in low, territorial growls. He didn’t want to stop playing, knowing it meant you would leave once you were done. "It's time to sleep now, I'm afraid. We shall continue tomorrow if you wish." As you stood, one of his large, tattooed hands stopped you, preventing you from rising from your seat on the floor beside him.
A possessive hold gripped your wrist, the pressure firm and unyielding, preventing you from standing. A deep, dissatisfied growl rumbled from Sukuna's lips, reverberating through the air with a primal intensity. "I don’t want to stop," he stubbornly declared, his tone laced with a hint of impatience. As if to emphasize his point, his additional set of arms swiftly encircled you, drawing you closer.
The heat of his body pressed against yours, the tattoos on his skin seeming to pulse with his frustration. His hold was firm, almost desperate, as if letting you go would mean losing something far more significant. His crimson gaze bore into yours, a mix of desire and possessiveness in his eyes, making it clear that he had no intention of letting you leave just yet.
You smile down at him, and his cold facade falters slightly as if he can sense the disappointment behind your warm gaze. "Oh? Are you not tired yet?" you ask softly, carefully sliding your wrist from his possessive grip and bringing it closer to his tattooed face. Your thumb gently brushes just under one of his lower set of eyes, coaxing it closed with the tender touch. His tough exterior momentarily softens under your gentle care. "It's quite late now, you know," you murmur, your voice soothing as you continue to caress him, trying to ease him into a state of restfulness.
A soft hum escaped his lips, a blend of relaxation and defiance. "Late or not, I want to keep playing," he grumbled, his lower arms still stubbornly holding onto you, reluctant to release their grip.
He let out a frustrated growl as his powerful body began to relax under your touch, his reactions betraying his words. "Shhh, I told you we can continue tomorrow as always," you murmured, your voice soothing and steady. Slowly, you pulled your hand away from his face, and the content expression that had briefly graced his features was replaced by a pout. "Are you ready now, my lord?" you asked gently, your words carrying a tender insistence as you waited for him to relent.
The pout on Sukuna's face deepened as you pulled away, a mix of annoyance and disappointment surfacing in his expression. His eyes remained fixed on you, filled with a blend of irritation and reluctance to give in.
"No, I'm not ready," he grumbled, his lower arms tightening their grip around you, pulling you back towards him in an attempt to hold you in place.
"Come now, you stubborn thing," you cooed, your tone teasing yet affectionate. If anyone else dared to speak to him like this, they would have been dead with a mere flick of his hand. But you were different, not like anyone else in his domain. Sukuna's resolve wavered ever so slightly, enough to let you slowly rise to your feet as he looked up at you from his place on the floor. "It's important for a king to get his rest."
A flash of irritation crossed Sukuna's eyes as you successfully stood, despite his efforts to cling to you. Yet, his usual fiery defiance softened, and a flicker of vulnerability showed through. His expression turned into a petulant pout as he gazed up at you, begrudgingly acknowledging the truth in your words.
"Fine," he grumbled, his voice still tinged with stubborn resistance. "But don’t leave."
Then, Sukuna settled into his king-sized bed with you sitting next to him, your gentle tone and soft words coaxing him toward sleep. He grumbled to himself, his voice a low, stubborn protest as if he were resisting even as sleep began to claim him.
Gradually, Sukuna's gruff grumbles started to subside, his resistance fading under the soothing cadence of your voice. The tension in his powerful body began to unravel, and his eyelids grew heavy with weariness. Despite his protests, the fatigue was too strong, and soon he fell asleep, his breathing steady as he finally drifted off.  𓈒 ꒱ა
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lucimaaie · 4 days
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we ✧.* tlou
pairings - santa barbara!ellie x reader
summary - ellie promised herself she wouldn’t get attached to anyone after santa barbara, look how that turned out.
warning - angsty, not proofread cause i wrote this pretty quick, short (as always),
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After Santa Barbara, Ellie had no plan for the future. She’d left Dina and JJ and let Abby go. She knew would still have nightmares and the pain wouldn’t leave her. What else was there to do?
Maybe that was the reason she fought you as you tried to take care of her. “Leave me alone!” She said as you’d tried to help her up from the water, raising her arm around your neck. Thinking about it now, the memory of her weak attempt to tussle you made her laugh.
You fought as hard as she did despite being starved and traumatized yourself. She didn’t know your story, just that you were the only one who didn’t want to kill her as soon as you came out of that crowded cell. You knew that she was immune and that was it. Nothing else was important in the moment. Nothing she wanted to tell you anyway.
You took care of her so much she started to feel guilty for not returning the favor. Cleaning her wounds, taking first watch, giving her whatever food you two had left. Ellie questioned whether it was pity or too good to be true, that you’d try something the moment she relaxed. But as she got stronger, nothing bad happened. You cared for her all the same.
So she cared for you. She watched your back and let you sleep a bit longer since she knew her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. She held you the way you held her when she awoke screaming. Gave you light kisses everywhere to distract you (and her) from a haunting past she knew nothing of. Conversations weren’t your speciality. You didn’t know a lot about each other, but you knew each other.
Eventually, you got lucky and found an abandoned cabin far away from Santa Barbara and quickly settled in. It wasn’t big and there was one bed, but it was shelter. Ellie didn’t want to call it home just yet.
“We should move south.” Ellie blurted, shaking the snow off her boots onto the porch. She could already hear your lecture about letting the cold in, but that wasn’t her focus. Did she just say we? “I mean, nevermind. Here’s fine.” It wasn’t. It was cold as hell and she was tired of the cold she’d been in her whole life.
“No, why south?” You said as you adjusted the small sticks that provided at least a little warmth in the small space. Ellie came to sit down next to you, leaving no space between you. She looked at you, admiring how the orange light shone on your face.
“It’s hotter.” She held your gaze as you listened intently. “Probably make hunting easier.” Ellie knocked her shoulder into yours without much force.
“You ever been south?”
She shrugged before shaking her head. “Nope.” She looked at the fire. That might be a downside of south. No more needing to snuggle up to you to not freeze to death. South you probably have to give each other some space to cool off. “Was just a thought.” She scratched her ear. “What’d you do while I was out?”
“Counted our supply. put on the fire. cleaned our clothes. a bunch of nothing.”
“What about eating?”
“uh-no. forgot that part.”
“Course you did.” She sighed, rising to her feet and look around for the bag you two stuff all cans in. All your belongings in the cabin were generally pre-packed in case you had to run, but still the fact that you’d been able to accumulate these things together made her feel something she couldn’t describe. Annoyance was part of it. that she got so attached to you after she promised herself she wouldn’t. that it just complicated things. But that already happened the moment you’d kissed and let things go further.
“here.” She used her knife to open the can of beans and sat back next to you, handing them over.
“you do know we sleep in the same bed, right?” You hesitantly took the can and swished them around with the spoon.
“trust me i know, but i don’t need you losing body fat and clinging to me like a koala.”
“you’ve never even seen a koala.” You said, taking a bite of the beans. not bad but not good and most importantly not expired. You set the can down in the middle of you, signaling that you wanted to share. She shook her head and sighed as you pushed the can closer to her, your eyes saying ‘please.’ She took a small bite just to appease you and shoved it over to you. “just shut up and eat.” she swiped her thumb over the edge of your lip. “and stop eating like that. we’ll get you more food tomorrow.”
Hours later, ellie shot up in the middle of the night, her heart feeling like it would burst out of her chest at any moment. She choked on her own breaths as she buried her head into her knees. “it’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real—“ She mumbled the same words you did when you saw her like this.
“ellie?” You sat up as well, watching her with concerned eyes. She started to sob as she heard your voice, whether out of fear or relief you didn’t know but you didn’t give it much thought as you ran your fingers through her hair, letting her cry in your lap.
Eventually her tears stopped, leaving her with a pounding head and the comforting silence you provided. Her head rose from your lap and she pulled you into her, not willing to let go. Her head rested on your shoulder as her hands roamed under your shirt. There were no words for a while.
When there were words, they came quietly. “el?” you whispered. She didn’t respond for a while, still stuck in her swarming thoughts. “yeah?”
“where are you from?” It felt like a random question to ask, but there was no way you were gonna ask what she dreamed about.
She blinked for a few seconds, surprised. It was a simple question, yeah, but it could lead to other questions. she was scared to answer and ask back. “boston, i guess.”
“oh.”
“why’d you ask?” She let her head fall back on the pillow and tugged on your shoulder, silently asking you to turn around. And you did, facing her.
“i guess i just realized i never knew that stuff about you.” You said, fidgeting with her hands as you awaited her response. It felt like some dangerous territory, you weren’t supposed to cross. That was weird, you already crossed other, farther lines. “should i have not asked?” You whispered, tentatively.
“no, you..” She cleared her throat. “you can ask.” She finally looked at you, eyes soft with fear, pain. “i just..i don’t wanna talk about it all.”And go back there, she wanted to say.
“you don’t have to.” You scooted closer to her, laying your head on her shoulder.
Elie wrapped her arms around your back, her legs around yours, and looked at you. She let out a deep sigh as her heart beat for a different reason this time. “we don’t have to talk about it all. not right now.” we, there was a we. she wasn’t making it up. “okay,” She kissed your forehead.
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thank you for reading!
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brainwormcity · 9 months
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I've seen people remark on how awkward the 1967 scene is and that is so frustrating because, for me, it is one of the most emotionally resonant flashbacks in the entire series. It is so multifaceted and ripe with implication and that assertion is baffling. As though just because this conversation appears to be hard for them, it must mean that there has to be some sense of weirdness or awkwardness between them?
This scene feeds heavily into my theory that 1941 ended in some sort of aborted romantic moment between the two, most likely initiated by Crowley. Aziraphale can barely stand to look at Crowley because the very first moment he looks him in the face, he can't stop himself from giving him this hooded eyes, barely contained look of longing.
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The next thing we see is Aziraphale immediately launching into a statement about his fear for Crowley's existence that is as brutally sincere as it is heartrending. His eyes are wide, his voice is heavy with emotion, and it's clear that he is terrified beyond belief to lose Crowley. Even as he acquiesces and gives him the holy water, you can see that he wants to take it back and deny him it all over again.
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Then, of course, Crowley asks if he can give him a lift, which is definitely something that they both know is a totally different question than what lies on the surface, given that they're mere feet from the bookshop and at first Crowley frowns so deeply that it's almost cartoonish but a moment after Aziraphale turns him down you get this glimpse of very real sadness:
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Aziraphale sees it for what it is and in an attempt to comfort him, without being able to do what currently seems impossible to him, shares a fanciful but resigned fantasy about spending time together unbothered and unrestrained, all to the tune of these tight little, loving smiles:
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When he asks again, you can just see Crowley's desperation for Aziraphale not to go. It's hard to say how long they'd been apart, but it's safe to say that for them, that previous interaction likely is very fresh in their minds.
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Aziraphale has always been more fearful than Crowley when it comes to their feelings for each other. You could even potentially look at the holy water as a metaphor for their relationship. In his expressions of concern about The Arrangement, Aziraphale has always been remarking on how Crowley could be destroyed, similarly to his words here. So when he's telling him, "You go too fast for me, Crowley," what he's really saying is, "I'm terribly afraid and I'm not ready to take that step if it means that I could lose you." And it's plain to see by the wistful look on his face that it pains him greatly to say it:
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The scene so quickly cuts to Crowley looking intensely at the holy water after Aziraphale has left the car (as if trying to convince you that that was the real point of the scene) that it's easy to miss this devastated expression on Crowley's face:
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There's no look of perceived rejection on his face. Just a somber look of resignation. There are so many barriers in front of them, and I think that Crowley was willing to risk it but understood that Aziraphale wasn't ready to.
This is the most honest and laid bare we ever see these two be when it comes to their emotions. There's so much being said without being said and even their actual words (i.e. Crowley remembering exactly the amount of time when the 'fraternizing' conversation happened) are so full of emotion that it might even be a bit hard for some people to watch.
It's not awkward. It's just that the scene is just so incredibly earnest and heavy with coded language that it's easy to be swept up by the fact that the two aren't engaged in their typical banter and bickering. What we truly have here is an incredibly difficult and loving conversation between two people who are stuck in a seemingly impossible situation.
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livwritesstuff · 10 days
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snippet of a fic i'll hopefully finish this weekend
“Speak of the devil,” Robin says, looking back at Steve with an irritatingly smug smile on her face, “Look who it is.”
“Speak of the devil?” Eddie repeats with a big grin on his face, “I knew my ears weren’t ringing for no reason. All bad things, I hope.”
Steve barely hears him though, too busy trying desperately to tap into that telepathy or mind control or whatever everyone claims he and Robin have to make her shut the fuck up already!!!
Unfortunately, he fails because Robin is suddenly exclaiming, “Hey, Eddie! Steve’s shift is about to end. You should give him a ride home.”
Eddie stares at her.
“His car is in the parking lot.”
Robin hesitates, “Uh...yeah. That...is right, but Steve is letting me use his car while I practice driving.”
Steve’s eyes narrows.
“I’m doing what?”
“Yeah-yeah-yeah,” she nods, her voice getting hysterical and fast in the way it usually does when she starts to lose control of the connection between her brain and her words, “Remember? I was gonna drive myself home tonight and then-and then I’m gonna pick you up in the morning on the way to work tomorrow. As practice.”
“That’s awfully nice of you, Steve,” Eddie says slowly, looking between the two of them suspiciously.
“Isn’t it?” Robin adds with an innocent smile, “So can you give him a ride?”
After another moment or two, Eddie replies, “Sure,” apparently deciding against interrogating Robin about her more-than-obvious lie, “I’ll meet you outside, Steve?”
“Sure thing,” Steve manages (as in - he manages to wait until Eddie's gone to attempt strangling Robin).
"I did it for your own good!" Robin exclaims from behind the rolling cart of VHS tapes she's currently using as a buffer between them.
Steve tries to yank the cart out of her grip, but she's got that wiry, theater kid kind of strength, so he can't make it happen, which means Steve's really got no other choice but to let Eddie drive him home.
"I'm never speaking to you ever again," he mutters.
"Yeah, right," Robin laughs, "Let me know how making out with Eddie all night goes."
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emiliehornby · 7 months
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when you get me alone (it’s so simple)
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pairing luke castellan x fem! child of aphrodite! reader
synopsis while luke is known for making people’s heads turn at camp, you finally give them a reason to stare after learning how much everyone seems to want him
warnings implied sexual content, descriptions of a make out session
author’s notes happy valentine’s day everyone!! the voices in my head were louder than usual, so i figured we could all use a sweet treat today!! mwah!! i hope y’all enjoy these headcanons
On a particularly slow day, the Aphrodite, Athena, Apollo, and Hermes kids decide to spend their free time around the lake. In a glimpse, Luke can be seen laughing with Chris. A radiant smile is plastered upon his lips while he takes in the sight of you. In the distance, Annabeth sits with Grover on a towel, letting her toes wiggle into the warm earth. She watches the water intently, making sure none of her siblings are in any imminent danger when the giggles from Apollo kids, Sadie and Caroline, drown out her thoughts.
“Gods, what I’d give to be in his arms right now.” Annabeth’s ears can’t help but pick up on the conversation taking place beside her. “It’s no surprise he’s taken. But you’d think as a Hermes kid, he’d go for someone more like…us.” Sadie sighs.
Grover leans in closer to Annabeth, his interest piquing when she rolls her eyes. He fears that the daughter of Athena is going to give them a piece of her mind when she stands, but Annabeth merely picks up the frisbee that lands near her feet. She throws it back to where it came from and sits back down to hear Caroline encouraging Sadie, “Come on, it’s only a matter of time before you’ll get your chance. The Aphrodite charm has to wear off eventually. I mean, it always does.”
This time, Grover can’t stop her from turning to them. “Look, you don’t know how things seem to work around here, so I’m going to explain something to you.”
“What Annabeth means to say is that-” The satyr attempts to soothe the situation, but she cuts him off amidst her stubbornness.
“Now, I know not all the Aphrodite kids are palatable, but Y/N is easily the sweetest one I’ve ever known. And there’s a real reason as to why Luke is so in love with her. But I guess you’ll never find that reason for yourselves if you continue to act like this at camp.” This effectively humbles Sadie and Caroline, who mumble to each other while they make their exit.
As if on cue, you walk up to Grover and Annabeth. You’re laughing with a Hermes kid that soon leaves to join the game of frisbee, but it dies down when you notice Annabeth’s hardened stare. You place a hand on her shoulder, “What’s wrong?” 
Grover stands and hands over your towel while insisting it’s nothing. But Annabeth cuts Grover off again to explain, “Sadie and Caroline were saying things about you…and Luke.” You understand what she’s trying to imply and give her a squeeze.
It was no secret that Luke was well admired among his peers. Most of the time, it isn’t even an issue, but there were campers who thought they could change the course of your relationship every now and then.
Sadie and Caroline easily fall under that category, seeing as they completely ignored your existence when Luke decided to take you with him during their initial tour around camp…then there was the time Caroline pretended to lose her way at camp as an excuse to get Luke away from you and alone with her. And just two weeks ago, Sadie feigned hopelessness during a sword skills session. As the instructor, it was Luke’s job to adjust her form. However, it was glaringly obvious the Apollo girl had an ulterior motive, especially when she threw a snarky smile in your direction when she thought you weren’t looking.
“Oh…You don’t have to worry about that, Annie. I can handle myself just fine.” You reassure Annabeth to the best of your ability. She nods and stands to settle herself into your side.
In your peripheral vision, Luke is jogging over to you with his shirt in hand. You don’t miss the way Sadie and Caroline ogle at the thin layer of sheen coating his flexing muscles and the lines running down Luke’s back that aren’t actually sparring scars, despite what you tell the curious kids that help him out in the infirmary. You smile when he pats Annabeth’s arm and leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Hey, is it time to head back already?” He asks, putting his shirt on as Annabeth checks her watch.
She huffs, “Unfortunately. We should get going if we don’t want to be late. I still have to grab my dagger.”
It’s a comfortable walk back, and when you reach the Athena cabin, Annabeth bids you two goodbye and runs inside. Luke’s hand is loosely intertwined with yours as you lead him to the Aphrodite cabin. He raises his eyebrows, asking, “Did you need something from your cabin? I thought you were working on archery right now.”
You push the door open, sheepishly admitting, “I am, but I was actually thinking of skipping out on lessons today.”
Luke’s tone is suddenly laced with concern, “Are you okay? Did something happen at the lake?” He drops your hand to check you over, but his touch doesn’t stray far from your waist to prevent you from moving away. But the gesture is welcomed and you take a step forward, a shy smile peeking through the corners of your lips.
His worry for you falters, mirroring your love struck expression, “Oh,” Luke pinches your side. You shove his chest with a shriek. “You’re awful.” He tells you, but he’s already got a hand tracing lightly over your cheek.
Your gaze switches from his dark eyes down to his lips, “You love me.” and that’s all it takes for Luke to dip down his head and meet you halfway. Your hands reach down under his shirt, feeling the warmth radiating from his toned torso. You bite down on his lower lip, and you know you’ve sent Luke’s head spinning when he lets out a short whimper. He attempts to deepen the kiss, but you pull away before he gets the chance.
Your eyes flutter open, whispering, “Do you want to skip lessons with me?”
Luke’s lips are lingering above yours when he responds, “Did you even have to ask?” and pulls you onto your bed. He settles his back against the wall and hums in content when you begin to pepper pecks on his jawline. 
After a moment, you pretend to move off of him, “I don’t know…you were pretty excited for combat training earlier. Maybe I should just let you go.”
In retaliation, Luke’s blunt nails dig into your waist, “Don’t you dare.”
A warmth flutters through your stomach when you hear the desperation in his voice. Your fingers itch to tangle themselves in Luke’s ravenous curls, lightly pulling so he can look up at you. A deceptively innocent smile paints your lips and you don’t skip a beat to get him back on you.
Heavy breaths. Discarded shirts. Whispered promises. This is how you spend the next hour in between your skipped lessons and the nightly bonfire. It’s nice, but you know it’s your cue to take a step back when the crowd of kids crawling outside the cabin becomes heavily audible.
You’re still on Luke’s lap when you say, “You look so pretty like this.” Your eyes flicker from his own to his kiss swollen lips and rowdy hair. There’s an urge to run your fingers through them, but you settle for lightly tracing over the fresh love bites that are scattered across his neck and collarbone.
Luke smiles dopily while you admire your work, “I think we should skip lessons more often.”
You finally get off of him, throwing his shirt to his chest while you smooth yours out, “Don’t be such a bad influence, you’re a camp counselor.” You can’t help but stare again when the marks heavily peek out near his collar, fading in between the orange fabric.
Luke notices your longing gaze and walks over to you, “You know, you’re not the only one with charm in this relationship. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, okay. Let’s go, lover boy.” You roll your eyes and take his hand. You stumble on your way out, but Luke is there to catch you. He chuckles and lets his arm rest over your shoulders while you reach up to hook your hand with his. He helps you find your footing until your legs wake up on the way to the amphitheater.
“Wait,” You halt just before you reach the steps. You grab Luke’s necklace, gently pulling him in. You let your hands rest on each side of his marked up neck and he hisses at the feeling of your fingers gently pressing on his sore skin. Luke bites down on your lip in response, savoring the hint of watermelon that seeps through until you pull away, “Just wanted one more.”
You’re satisfied once you see the hint of pink gloss smeared at the corners of his mouth. He takes your hand again, guiding you inside. You spot some of your sisters, greeting them with a wave. They giggle at you two in response, whispering frantically to each other while you find an empty space at the front of the bonfire.
“Hey, is anyone sitting here?” Luke asks Sadie, who happens to be standing to his left alongside Caroline. Chris, who’s sitting a step above them, unashamedly howls with laughter at the sight. He leans forward to clap Luke on the back, catching the attention of Grover, who sighs in embarrassment, and Annabeth, who’s trying her best not to giggle at the sight of a gobsmacked Sadie. She and Caroline shake their heads frantically, broken words bubbling from their throats as they take in Luke’s glossy, blissful smile that he throws at you.
They finally give you the time of day, noticing that the reason for his contentment comes from your own swollen lips. You look back at them with a smile and take your rightful seat next to Luke, who wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer, watching as they go back to their siblings to start tonight’s singalong.
If the fire glows a little greener as Sadie and Caroline lead the singalong, no one comments on it. They all know better than to mess with the insatiable charm you hold on Luke. After all, you are your mother’s daughter.
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fyodior · 11 months
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alpha!toji x afab reader // more breedtober!! cw: toji in rut, lots of pregnancy/breeding talk, brief cockwarming, vaginal sex, toji is just Pathetic and Desperate. enjoy!!
want more breedtober?
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“quit it, toji,” you scolded, smacking away the hand that crept closer between your thighs as his hips started to buck up into you.
currently naked from the waist down and a little bit pissed off, you were sat on toji’s lap at your desk, also trying to get some work done on your laptop. his hard, leaking cock was also buried deep inside you.
“can’t take it anymore, darlin’,” he grunted, gripping your hips tight. his face was bright red and dripping with sweat, forehead leaned against your back as he desperately tried to hold onto any semblance of self control he had left. it was quickly waning.
thought you could feel the way his heart was pumping in his chest and his breath quickening, you had already dedicated way too much time these past few days to taking care of toji in his rut and you really needed to get work done. your manager had been kind enough to allow you to work from home this week, but you still had to work. though toji, in this state, really struggled to understand that.
toji’s ruts hit him hard - there was no dose of rut or hormone suppressants that could touch them. he was absolutely insatiable, already horny again within minutes of his knot deflating from the last round. this was really unfortunate for you, his lover who still had a job.
so you promised if he let you get some work done typing out reports and emails, you’d sit on his cock and warm it while doing so. just thirty minutes was all you asked for, but he was struggling hard after only fifteen.
“can’t take it anymore,” he repeated, his tone more strangled this time.
“just fifteen more minutes, baby,” you attempted to soothe, checking the time on your laptop. you knew there was almost no chance on him lasting that much longer, but you figured you’d at least try.
it wasn’t like you weren’t horny too. his long, thick cock throbbed and leaked inside you, making you twitch and unable to keep your hips still. and you had lost focus on this email thread about ten minutes ago. the cockwarming was supposedly to be a relief thing until you could help him out, but clearly it wasn’t working.
“ok, fine,” you griped, closing your laptop and shoving it to the edge of the desk, knowing full well how feral toji was about to go.
“finally,” the poor man gasped.
standing up, he bent you over the desk with a little more force than he meant to, slightly knocking the air out of your lungs as your chest met the wood.
“toji,” you whined as he manhandled you, not even bothering to ask him to be gentler - you knew he was incapable of it at this point. there was no fighting biology.
“i’m sorry, baby,” he grunted.
his large frame enveloped you entirely, chest pressed against your back as a means for leverage before thrusting back into you. the length and girth of his cock was unlike you’d ever experienced before, leaving you choking and gasping for air when he bottomed out within seconds. at least being lucid enough to understand that, he gave you a moment to adjust, your fingers losing feeling where they were gripping the edge of the desk.
“you okay, baby?” toji asked.
“ ‘m fine, toj,” you breathed, eyes screwed shut. “you’re okay.” he didn’t need any more encouragement.
there wasn’t much buildup - he had already done plenty of it in his hormone-addled mind waiting for you to finish up. he just needed to get off so fucking bad. his hard, deep, purposeful thrusts left you breathless, grunting and groaning right into your ear and clouding your senses.
“gonna breed you so full of my, pups, darlin’, need to get you pregnant,” he babbled, kissing your neck and back as he blew them out. “want you carrying twins - or even triplets.”
you couldn’t help but chuckle at his ramblings about breeding you, brain clearly completely overtaken by his rut and primal need to breed you.
sweat matted his dark hair to his forehead and dripped down the sides of his face as his fatigued body worked hard to keep up with his uncontrollable impulses.
“need- you- pregnant-” he growled, each word punctuated with a hard thrust into your poor, abused pussy.
you could feel him in your guts he was fucking you so deep. normally, his thrusts were somewhat shallow and erratic when he was just trying to get off and feel normal again, but this session had morphed into something completely different. the goal now was to fuck precum and cum so deep into your pussy and coat your cervix to force your womb to take it - you needed to carry his pups.
a hand came to rest against your lower belly, gasping as you felt the way it bulged out at the presence of his cock. you started to imagine what that bulge might look like if it were babies instead of cock.
“feels so good, toj,” you decided to encourage. he grinned wide at that, a shaky hand running through your hair as he kissed the side of your face.
“yeah? feel g-good, pretty little thing? my cock feel good?” he was rambling once again.
toji could feel himself teetering on the edge, slowly being pushed further due to your words and you clenching tight around his length. the hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your ass as he bottomed out with every thrust, reveling in the tight, wet heat of your perfect cunt.
“fuck, gonna c-” he couldn’t even finish his sentence before his knot was swelling and he shot thick, hot ropes of cum deep into your pussy, even whining a bit. you couldn’t help but cry out as his thick knot suddenly stretched you out even wider than his cock did.
“sorry, baby,” he muttered, petting your hair as his orgasm finally brought him back to his senses. he remained draped over you as he waited for his knot to deflate.
“ ‘s okay, my love,” you chuckled, still out of breath. “hopefully you’re feeling better now.”
“always feel better when i’m with you,” he cooed, kissing your cheek. his knot very slowly began to shrink.
“though you definitely would look really hot pregnant.”
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ghcstao3 · 1 month
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“you don’t smoke.”
it takes a lot to startle ghost these days, but then again, soap has always been the exception, hasn’t he?
“come again?”
“you don’t smoke,” says soap. “not anymore.”
ghost does his best to keep him breathing even. “yeah, well. things change, j—soap.”
things being the bullet in soap’s head. things being the memory loss, the losing johnny. things being the doctors telling ghost there's no guarantee that soap will remember anything; remember him, what they were to each other. yet here they stand—ghost trying for a smoke in one of his secret haunts (ha), and an amnesiac soap that should be in medical or under price's supervision but has instead found his way here.
old habits die hard, ghost supposes.
"what are you doing here anyway, sergeant? surely you have something more important than bein' up here."
in ghost's periphery, soap shrugs. the expression he wears is still infected with the blankness of unfamiliarity, but ghost would be stupid to think there isn't some reason as to why soap has somehow found himself here, in a location he surely couldn't remember, if he couldn't so much as recall ghost's name without a reminder.
"got sick of medical," soap replies plainly. "my feet led me here."
ghost hums, though he knows it isn't the full truth. he balances a cigarette between his lips, fishes his lighter from his pocket, and lights the smoke. soap says nothing.
he doesn't know what to make of anything, as soap allows him to indulge in silence, and he doesn't know whether or not he'd rather this be a one-off kind of thing. on one hand, this could mean that soap might start remembering other little things, might start picking up the pieces of his past, their past. but on the other, if this is only a one-time occurrence, it might leave ghost a little more heartbroken than he already is—which could be a good thing, if only so he might eventually, finally move on from what could never be, not ever again.
"you shouldn't smoke, lt," soap says quietly, the moment ghost flicks the butt of his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot.
ghost pauses, caught off guard by the nickname he'd yet to hear again since the incident. he feels soap's eyes on him, unwavering, oblivious.
the lieutenant clears his throat in an attempt to play off his surprise. "focus on your own issues first, soap."
ghost starts past him, just barely fighting the urge to clap the sergeant's shoulder as he passes. his chest feels tight as he leaves soap behind, breath caught in his throat as he tries not to look like he's running away.
he can't do this. he can't—he can't. can't bear to have soap so close yet so far from reach. can't bear to have these glimpses into the past taunting him as punishment for innumerable sins. ghost can't do this.
how he wishes for things to have gone differently. in which way, he still isn't sure, but he thinks that anything else would be less painful than this.
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writing-imagines · 8 months
Text
Even Mean Girls Cry // Regina George
Summary: After hooking up with Regina for a year, you finally get to see her vulnerable side after The Plastics reject her at lunch.
Possible warnings: light swearing, bullying, and Regina being Regina
Pairing: Regina George x gender!neutral reader (readers gender literally isn’t mentioned)
A/n: first fic of 2024!! I love Reneé’s Regina so feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts about her
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Regina George wasn’t a good person. It was evident ever since the first grade when she told everyone that Peter Howell peed himself after she spilled apple juice on him. So, you did your best to avoid her, and her ever changing minions, every day as you grew up. When you reached high school, Regina’s antics became more frequent and hurtful. By the end of your freshman year, she had at least one embarrassing piece of information on everyone in school, yourself included. 
Your streak of successfully avoiding Regina came to an end after winter break during your sophomore year. Ms. Norbury asked you to be Regina’s Intermediate Math tutor since you had the highest grades in your Algebra 2 class. You were hesitant to accept the opportunity considering Regina’s reputation, but you knew tutoring would look great on your college application. You accepted Ms. Norbury’s request and so started your relationship with Regina George. 
At first, she sat across from you in the empty cafeteria after school, chomping loudly on her gum and texting a thousand words a minute. Her behavior continued every day that week and by Friday, you’d had enough. 
“Regina, stop wasting my time and pay attention.” You finally snapped after she blew an obnoxiously large pink bubble with her gum. Regina’s eyes slowly rose from her phone screen to you. 
“What did you just say to me?” Her eyes resting on you instantly made you lose the confidence you just had. 
“Oh-I…I meant you should pay attention. I’m trying to teach you, so you don’t fail your next algebra test.” You smiled nervously as Regina’s gaze dug further into you. After a few more moments of intense staring, the blonde let out a scoff. 
“You know, you’re actually kind of cute.” Her blue eyes looked you over, this time in a more flirtatious way. You felt like a lamb dangling over a hungry mountain lion. 
“Thanks.” You nervously looked away and rubbed the back of your neck in an attempt to get any relief from Regina’s presence. 
“So, you agree? You think you’re cute.” 
“Umm…I mean, I don’t really know.” Regina’s smile softened and she looked at you as if you were a lost puppy. Without warning, the blonde stood up and made her way to your side of the table. She sat down in the seat beside you and scooted as close as she possibly could, causing your face to warm and your heart to beat faster. 
“Have you ever kissed anyone, Y/n?” Regina questioned with her pointer and middle finger dancing on your thigh. Your throat went dry at the mention of the one thing you were embarrassed of. In a school full of hormonal teenagers, you were truly the only one who hadn’t kissed anyone yet. You were kicking yourself for accidentally telling Karen the sensitive information during a bonfire last year. 
“You know the answer, Regina.” You said with a defeated exhale. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Regina, instead, you kept your eyes glued to the table. Suddenly, the two fingers that danced on your thigh were placed gently under your chin, forcing you to look at the blonde beside you. Her eyes were kinder, and her smile was still soft, making you feel less embarrassed. 
“It’s okay, you don’t need to be embarrassed.” You didn’t say anything, instead, you softly smiled and took in Regina’s features. You had never noticed how pretty her eyes were or how full her lips were. 
“Do you want to kiss me, Y/n?” Regina’s eyebrows lifted with the question. Without even thinking, you blurted out the answer. 
“Yes.” You swore for a moment Regina began to blush as she pushed a few stray hairs away from her face. 
“Okay. Close your eyes.” 
You did as you were told. For a moment, you were worried it was all just a prank, but when you felt Regina’s lips press against yours, you knew it had to be real. You did your best to reciprocate the kiss, causing Regina to let out a small moan, which caused your stomach to flip about ten times. Suddenly, you felt Regina’s hands find your neck and her perfectly manicured nails rested on the nape of your neck, effectively pulling you in deeper. 
The sound of a door slamming shut caused both of you to pull away quickly. You couldn’t help but stare at Regina with a bewildered look, seriously questioning if the kiss happened. 
“Wow, you're a pretty good kisser, Nerd.” 
“T-Thanks. You’re good too.” You sputtered with the most nervous tone you had ever heard from yourself. The blonde laughed before running her fingers along the edge of her lips to wipe away any smeared lip gloss. 
“I know.”  The two of you sat in silence for what felt like hours before Regina spoke up. 
“So, I’ll see you on Monday then.” She quickly stood up and gathered her things as if nothing had happened. 
“I’ll see you on Monday.” You echoed, wiping Regina’s cherry flavored lip gloss off your lips. 
“Bye, Nerd.” 
“Bye, Regina.” 
Almost a full year later and your hookups with Regina were still going strong. In fact, ever since Cady Heron started causing drama between the girls, you had been spending all of eighth period in the back seat of Regina’s Jeep, making out like it was your last moments on earth. Not to mention, secretly hooking up with the queen bee of North Shore gave you a major confidence boost that even Regina noticed. Your relationship had even gone to the next level: texting each other about things that didn’t involve when and where to hookup. 
You were sitting in Trigonometry when your phone pinged. You quickly checked it, not wanting to risk Ms. Norbury confiscating it. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see that Regina had texted you. 
RG: Sweatpants are the only things that fit me right now 
Y/n: So? 
RG: So? Jesus Y/n. I can’t wear sweatpants to lunch! 
Y/n: Because of the stupid rules YOU made?
RG: They aren’t stupid 
Y/n: I’m sure it’ll be fine. The girls will understand 
“Y/n, care to share with that class what on your phone is so important that you’re missing out on practice test questions?” 
“No. Sorry, Ms. Norbury. It won’t happen again.” 
“Good. Now, as I was saying…” You watched Ms. Norbury turn to write something on the board and quickly sent another text to Regina. 
Y/n: Just got called out by Norbury for texting you. Hope you’re happy 
You went the rest of class without hearing from Regina. In fact, you went most of the day without hearing from her. It was a little weird, but you knew she had a lot going on and it wasn’t like you needed constant communication with each other. 
When lunch came around, it was the same old same old. You sat down with some of your other tutor friends and talked about your day. As Daisy Smith talked about her failed attempt to teach Karen about fractions, you saw Regina walk towards The Plastics. True to her word, she wore gray sweatpants that grabbed your, and several others, attention. You didn’t eye Regina for long, not wanting anyone to accuse you of being a creep or being in love with her. You looked down at your lunch only for the room to suddenly go quiet. 
“You can’t sit with us!” Gretchen’s voice echoed through the silent room. No one dared to even gasp as Regina fired back. 
“Sweatpants are all that fit me right now.” Even though you couldn’t see her face, you could tell Regina was talking through gritted teeth. 
“What do you think, Cady?” Gretchen asked, her voice once again echoing through the room. 
“Sorry, Regina. Rules are rules.” Seeing the sly look on Cady’s face made you want to march over to her and smash a tray of food in her face. You knew that would lead to a suspension, so you made a mental note to figure out some way to get back at Cady that wouldn’t result in a week off school.
“Fine.” 
Regina turned around to see every eye in that room on her. You could tell by the look on her face that for once, she hated the attention. Not a single person in that room moved to make room for Regina as she walked down the aisle. 
“Daisy, scoot down.” You quickly nudged the redhead to make room for Regina.
“Regina, you can sit with us.” You offered, eyes slightly full of hope that she would accept the offer and somehow make the situation better.
“I’m not sitting with you losers.” She spat out as she stormed past your table. 
“What a bitch.” Glenn Coco scoffed. Your blood boiled at Glenn’s comment, but you knew you had to play it cool to avoid any suspicion. 
“Guys, I forgot my math book in Ms. Norbury’s. I’m going to grab it really quick.” 
You quickly got up from the table, leaving your tray behind, and stormed off to find Regina. You searched her usual hangout spots, the maintenance room and the girl’s locker room in the gym. When you didn’t find her in either place, you made your way to the only other place she could be, the parking lot.
Sure enough, as you approached her Jeep, you saw Regina sitting in the passenger seat. Even from far away, you could tell she was crying. Cautiously, you approached the car and tapped on her window. The blonde’s head instantly shot up, revealing her red eyes and mascara stained cheeks. You had never seen Regina cry before, and the sight actually shocked you to your core. Without saying a word, you walked over to the driver’s side and climbed in. 
“What are you doing?” Regina questioned through sniffles as you put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. 
“I’m taking you home.” Your hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter when you noticed a picture of Regina, Karen, and Gretchen resting on her dashboard as you drove out of the parking lot. 
“I don’t need you to take me home.” Regina tried to use her usual venomous tone, but it came out shaky and pitiful. 
“I don’t care if you need me to. I want to take you home. That was fucking ridiculous.” 
After a few minutes of silence, you looked over to see tears still rolling down Regina’s face. Based on how her bottom lip was quivering, you knew Regina really needed to cry. You carefully reached your right hand over to Regina and grabbed her hand. 
“It’s okay to cry. They tried to humiliate you in front of the whole school. You don’t have to hide it from me.” You squeezed Regina’s hand, which caused her to quickly pull her hand away. 
“I am not crying because of those bitches. I’m crying because all I can wear is sweatpants and my mascara is ruined.” That time Regina was able to spit out her usual venom. While her tone would intimidate most people, it let you know Regina was going to be okay. 
“Those are still valid reasons to cry.” You said matter-of-factly. You felt Regina’s eyes land on you again, causing you to glance over at her. 
“Why are you so nice to me all the time?” 
“Because I’m a nice person.” You shrugged, not wanting to give away your true feelings for Regina. 
“I think it’s because you like me.” 
“And what if I did?” You replied without missing a beat. Once again, you were kicking yourself for not thinking before you spoke. 
“I’d have to give you a makeover. I can’t date anyone who dresses like that.” 
“What’s wrong with the way I dress?” 
“Nothing, if you’re going for a grocery store clerk.” You scoffed and acted offended by Regina’s words, which made the blonde crack a smile. 
“I do not dress like a grocery store clerk.” 
You both chuckled as you pulled up to the George's home. You instantly took note that Mrs. George’s car was missing from the driveway. 
“Do you want to come in? My mom isn’t home.” Regina looked at you with hopeful eyes. Not wanting to leave Regina alone after a traumatic event, you decided that it would be a good idea for you to stick around for a little while longer.
“Yeah, I’ll come in for a little bit.” 
You turned off the car and let Regina take the lead into her home. The second the front door closed behind you, Regina took your hand and led you up to her room. 
“Shoes off and get on the bed.” The blonde commanded.
“Regina, I don’t think we should-”
“Relax, Nerd. I just want you to hold me and tell me I’m pretty.” 
You quickly kicked your shoes off and lied down on the right side of the bed. Once you were comfortable, Regina joined you. Within seconds, her head found a comfortable spot on your chest, resting between your jaw and collarbone. Her hand found its way down to your stomach and balled the fabric of your shirt into her hand. After Regina was comfortable, you snaked your arm around her and held her close. You couldn’t help but look down at the blonde with a smile. When she wasn’t ruining people’s lives, Regina was actually kind of sweet. 
“Hey, Regina?”
“What, Nerd?” 
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” 
“Yeah, I know.” You could feel Regina’s smirk against your neck, which only made you fall a little harder for her.
You laid there, holding the blonde like your life depended on it. Your mind couldn’t help but wonder about finally telling Regina how you felt about her. It seemed like a good idea, especially after a hard day, but the thought of losing her stopped you. So, you just let Regina George, the meanest girl in North Shore, sleep on your chest while you held her close. 
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reminiscingtonight · 24 days
Text
Takedown
Georgia Stanway x Earps!Reader
Word count: 784
A/N: inspired by that video ofc
[WOSO Masterlist]
You’re hard at work when Alessia slides up next to you.
Usually you do a good job at separating your education and your football career, but a last minute assignment means you’re doing your best to craft a ten page research paper in whatever free time you can scrounge up at camp.
“Did you hear?”
Face buried in your laptop, you don’t even spare her a glance. “Hear about what?”
You’re so focused you almost miss her next words.
“Georgia’s trying to wrestle your sister!”
It’s almost comical how quick your fingers come to a stop.
You look over the screen, noting the half exasperated, half amused face on the striker.
“What do you mean Georgia’s trying to wrestle Mary?”
The last thing you expect is to push through a crowd when Alessia leads you to the gym. The girls are all gathered around, hooting and hollering. And at the center of it all is Mary and Georgia.
The two of them are circling each other, Georgia’s eyes drawn and focused while Mary’s got her signature smirk splattered all over her face.
You don’t even have a minute to register everything or react properly before Georgia’s suddenly charging forward with a short yell. A gasp leaves your lips at the effortless way Mary grabs at Georgia’s hips and flips her over on her back with a light thump.
Though usually stoic and the poster girl for doing everything by the book, Leah’s right there to quickly drop to the ground, exaggeratedly slapping her hand on the ground. “One, two, three! That’s another win for Mearps!”
Mary pops up with a holler, grinning like a maniac as Leah parades her around as the champion.
With a huff you finally push your way through the crowd straight to where your girlfriend is sitting up looking worse to wear.
“Are you crazy?” you hiss, helping her to her feet.
Georgia blushes when she realizes you caught the whole takedown.
“Look, we were just--”
“G, she could’ve killed you!”
Georgia frowns. “I know. But I was being careful. All I was trying to do was pin her down.”
You sigh. You love the whole bro-ship your girlfriend has going on with your sister, but sometimes it’s like you’re mothering two teenage boys with no sense of self-preservation. “Georgia, my sister has a black belt in judo. She’d choke you out before you could ever pin her down.”
“I know.”
She says it with so much conviction you falter for a second, lost for words.
“You... you know?”
Georgia, ever the charmer she is, puffs out her chest at her best attempt to look threatening. “Mary may be a black belt in judo, but I’m a black belt in taking down big headed keepers.”
You can almost sense Mary’s presence behind you before you can even hear her. An ironclad hand clamps down on your shoulder, breath so close to your ear that it tickles.
“I’d like to see you try, shortstack. All you’ve done so far is feed that massive head of mine.”
Georgia gasps in outrage, another sharp retort on her tongue when she catches the glare on your face. She shrinks, meekly scratching at the back of her head instead
Mary snickers, jerking back suddenly when you whip around to focus your glare on her.
“Mary Alexandra, you’re thirty-one. Act like it!”
Though she’s six years your senior, sometimes you feel more like the older one between you two. Especially in times like these when Mary gives you all the reasons to scold her like a misbehaving child.
“And you, Williamson! Don’t think I didn’t see you egging everyone on!”
Leah’s in the middle of trying to slip out with the dispersing crowd when your sharp words stop her in her tracks.
Your captain turns around, giving you a sheepish smile. “Eh, sorry?”
“You’re going to be,” you grumble, thinking of the paper that you’re no doubt losing motivation to write the longer you’re trying to wrangle everyone down.
It’s times like this that you wish you hadn’t accepted Sarina’s call-up to camp. It’s already hard enough to babysit your girlfriend and her friends whenever you meet up for a mini vacation throughout the football season and sometimes after, but having to do it at camp too is a bit exhausting. Usually Keira’s here to help too but--
You narrow your eyes at the three suspiciously angelic faces batting their eyelashes at you.
“Where’s Keira?”
When you slam open your shared hotel room door minutes later, Keira shrieks, nearly knocking over what looks suspiciously like a makeshift wrestling ring in the middle of the room.
Keira blinks, eyes wide. “Uh, this isn’t what it looks like.”
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easy-there-leftovers · 3 months
Text
Mixed Messages
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Written with season 1 Spencer in mind
Summary: The 5 times that you think you might hate Spencer Reid + the 1 time you realize you can't.
Alternatively; You're completely oblivious to your own growing feelings for Spencer that it constantly puts you in harm's way.
This can be seen as a prequel-sequel + sequel (?) to "A Question Unasked," but can be read independently of it.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! (mentored by Hotch!) reader | cw: slight spoilers for s1e02, s1e04, s1e06, s1e10, and s1e18 | reader gets really mean in the later half lol |slight description of canon-typical violence, slight timeframe switches because it made more sense that way | word count: 8.9k (yowza--)
“It’s something, I know it is.” You mutter to yourself, rubbing the pads of your fingers together in an attempt to gather your thoughts. But you can’t. 
Can’t find it. 
Can’t find that one word.
“What do you call that thing when you–” you snap your fingers at your colleague. Your equal. “I’m sorry– what do you call the urge to do something or behave a certain way?”
This was your second case out on the field with the rest of the BAU since you’ve been recruited, and it had not been easy for you. 
The BAU always seemed like a prestigious unit to be a part of. Only the best of the best ever got to rub elbows up in that department, having been founded by Jason Gideon and David Rossi. 
Two of the most legendary profilers in the world.
And right now you, you haven’t been feeling the best. But Aaron Hotchner seemed to have thought otherwise.
Spencer thinks for a moment, trying to understand what you had just asked him while he stared at the board that still had the team’s ideas on it. 
“Actually, it could be a number of things; urges, cravings, stressors, compulsions–”
“That one! You’re amazing at this, Dr. Reid.” 
After noticing your knack for the more analytical aspects of the job, your mentor, the unit chief himself, had assigned you to work with one Dr. Spencer Reid. Another fresh grad that could not have been any older than you, but certainly seemed way smarter. 
He said that you would work well together.
And you believed him.
You looked at the calendar that had been marked when the fires were started, fully missing how the genius had frozen at your praise, and you frantically reviewed the theory in your head. 
Double-checking, triple-checking, and nodding when you see it’s consistent.
You then hurriedly pulled up the recording of Matthew in his dorm. Hovering so close to the screen, that Spencer had to be equally as close to it, and by extension to you, in order to even try seeing what you were seeing.
 “Do you see it?” You look back at him, and his face is so close, you almost lose your nerve but thankfully, Gideon opens the door to check up on the both of you.
He pauses as if he’s seeing something he shouldn’t be, but carries on anyway.
“Don’t just look at the next move. It’s like chess, think three steps ahead.” He says it mostly to Spencer, you notice, but you also notice how he was slightly bothered by your proximity to his protege. 
He doesn’t say anything about it, but you’re working as a profiler now for a reason.
You move away a little. 
When he leaves, Spencer turns to look at you again and asks what you saw. 
“See this?” You ask as you point to the part where there were two, clearly lit windows on screen and he nods. “There are two fires, right?” He nods again.
“Now look at this,” You show him the part where Matthew gets wet with gasoline, and is eventually set aflame. 
“That was the third fire.”
You see Spencer’s eyes light up at your statement, and you hurriedly scrub back to where the unsub had been trying the door knob. Making sure to zoom in on the handle.
This time, it's the boy-genius that says it. “He turns the knob three times.” He looks at you to confirm his statement, and you nod. Looking into his eyes. 
Something you did out of respect.
“Right, so if we’re not wrong,” you use the pronoun on purpose, “the professor’s office should have something to do with the number three as well.”
He walks with you to the burned office, professor Wallace’s office, and there you collectively discover more of the same number. 
You have all the evidence you need.
***
“Sir Hotchner, we know why the profiles never fit.” It’s you who opens the door first, but Spencer is the one that carefully closes it behind you.
He looks at Gideon. “You were right to tell Morgan not to rely on precedent.” He then sets up the computer that you two had brought and you continue for him.
“So far, the fires that have been set are completely task-oriented.”
Hotch quirks his brows at that. “So once the fires are set, the unsub is done?”
You nod.
“Correct, sir. The reason why the profile never fit is because it contradicts the mold of a classic serial arsonist– his use of fire is the compulsion of a completely different disorder.” “Which is?” Gideon questions.
“An extreme manifestation of OCD– Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.” Spencer answers as he finally found out how to turn the computer on. The two of you exchanging lines in perfect synchronization.
“He does everything in threes. And if I’m right, he’ll have to kill again.”
The four of you discuss the behavioral evidence that had led to this discovery, with Spencer taking the lead as he mentions its possible tie to ‘scrupulosity,’ a type of OCD centering on religious obsession. 
As you continue though, and you know you shouldn’t take it to heart, but the way that Gideon’s constantly questioning your ideas and not Spencer’s was starting to make you feel uneasy. As if you were a bug under his careful scrutiny. 
Or was it the way that you sat?
 Granted, there were only three chairs in the area, so you had absentmindedly sat on the bit of the desk that had been uncluttered. No one else seemed to be bothered by it, and certainly not Spencer, who had cleared the area nearest to him just for you. 
So what…?
Being the non-confrontational kind, but not one to be pushed around, you take a mental departure from the discussion and start thinking about what else could be useful to the case. Bringing something new to the table that’s relevant.
You try to think if there had been anyone that stood out to you. Spencer had mentioned religious obsession, and the call from earlier definitely supported the idea, but you couldn’t single out one theology student that would fit that criteria.
You tried getting up from where you sat. Pacing has always helped you gather your thoughts, but you didn’t even need to take those few steps when you felt the cold sweat run down your back.
And it seemed like Gideon had noticed it. “What is it?”
You turned to slowly face the rest of them. “I think I know who it might be.” You groan as you think about it.
 “And it’s not a he.”  If you thought about this too late and another fire is happening right now– 
—-------
It wasn’t until you were on the flight home that you felt like you could breathe easy again. You didn’t have to be near Gideon anymore, giving you the side eye every time you were the least bit close to his protege.
You could just exist silently while you think about what to write in your report.
It wasn’t Spencer’s fault, nor his mentor’s, you thought as you stared at the somewhat empty file in your hand.
 You’re sure that Reid didn’t mean to take credit for the theory that you had essentially spelled out for him, and you’re also sure that Gideon was just a little uncomfortable with how unprofessional you might’ve seemed. 
Looking all cozied up with his golden boy. That had to be the only reason why he practically ignored you, but congratulated the boy-genius.
You sigh and wonder if you’ll ever get on his good side. Maybe you just needed to work a little harder.
As you nod at your resolve, it's your mentor that takes a seat in front of you.
“Congratulations on your second case.” You’re still a little starstruck, getting to work with him, but you manage out a polite, ‘thank you’ as a response. 
You try to make yourself look busy by rereading the other file that had been completed.
You already made a fool of yourself in front of one of your seniors, you didn't want to mess up in front of him too. Hotch could–
“I meant it, by the way.” 
You look up at him again. Eyes wide in question, and perhaps fear, as you realize you don’t understand what he’s talking about.
“You were focused on that calendar more than any of us, even before we landed in Arizona. You recognized the pattern before you even knew what it meant. And that definitely helped.”
“Oh.” Is all you could say, because what else could you have said?
A small laugh leaves your mouth. He recognized you for your efforts. Made it known that he saw what you saw, and that what you saw was helpful. 
Without the usual mention of the boy-genius.
It was a moment just for you. 
A moment where you vowed to work harder. Smarter.
And the moment you knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner was the best leader that you could ever have.
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“Oh and agent?” Both you and Spencer look back to see your supervisor, but you see that it’s you that he’s singling out. “A private word, if you please.”
You nod without a second thought, despite not knowing what this other meeting could possibly be for. You were just as clueless as you were about the one earlier. 
What you weren’t clueless about was how you felt towards your situation. You had been assigned to work with Spencer so often that you were starting to get sick of it. 
Not a slight to his company at all, on the contrary! You actually enjoyed it! He was a fascinating and accomplished young man that charmed his way into your heart with his little fun facts and references. 
And if that weren’t enough, Morgan hadn’t exactly coined the nickname “pretty boy” just for laughs.
 Dr. Reid lived up to that expectation. 
With his soft brown hair, bright, inquisitive eyes, and how cozy he always seemed in his clothes— how could anyone dislike him? 
No, it was the attention that you were getting that was starting to frustrate you. Or perhaps the wrong kind of attention, would be more appropriate.
Lately, it seemed as if you were only being treated as an extension of Dr. Reid. As if you were always attached at the hip, and that you always knew where he had to be and what it was that he was doing. 
You don’t know where all this came from. Not even a little bit.
All you know is that it was slowly starting to rub you the wrong way, and that you wanted a semi-permanent departure from the situation.
But that didn’t happen because Spencer had just unknowingly shut down your only chance.
You digress, and put your feelings aside for now. You were at work, after all.
“What did you want to discuss with me sir?” 
Hotch makes the effort to clear away his desk for a bit, and places his hands on top of it. Grasping them together as he looks at you with his usual stern expression.
“We’ll be issuing you a gun soon. You’re qualified to own one after having enough hours on the field, and you’ve shown a respectable record, so please keep that in mind.”
Your eyes widen in glee. Those were just a few words, but you couldn’t help how your heart swelled in pride at them.
It wasn’t the gun that you were happy about, it was what it represented.
Being issued a gun by the bureau signified that you were officially part of the team, and that you were deemed a responsible enough member of the organization to be trusted with it.
You should be honored to be given this chance and yet it felt sort of wrong— something didn’t sit right with you.
“Sir, with all due respect, while I’m thankful for the opportunity, I don’t see why I’m being issued a gun when Dr. Reid has still yet to have one.”
He sighs at that, as if he had hoped that you wouldn’t ask, but he tells you anyway. 
“Dr. Reid has failed numerous firearm qualifications and will be retaking his test soon.”
You nod slowly, still not quite seeing the relation between the two scenarios.
He sighs again, but this time, with a small, tight smile. 
“We’ve been thinking that it would instill more confidence in him if you knew your way around a gun. He seems to have a great respect for you, and seeing you have one might help him a bit.”
You smile at that and respond good-naturedly. “Duly noted, sir! I’ll make sure he has the confidence that could rival even Derek Morgan’s.”
He shows you a polite smile and dismisses you promptly. Getting back to his stack as you nod and you make your way to his door.
It shouldn’t bother you, and it doesn’t, you think.
 A job’s a job. 
If it wasn’t going to be you, it was going to be someone else. You just so happened to have been given this particular job due to the presumed rapport you had with one another, and you saw no problem with that.
You trust your boss, and it’s not like you dislike Spencer, so it shouldn’t bother you at all.
And yet it does, ever so slightly, when you see Morgan and Elle, crowding and cooing around him like he was a baby when you make it out of Hotch’s office.
You’re confused at what it is that you’re feeling, but you hear something akin to the word, ‘math.’ What could they be teasing him about now? 
“Is something going on here?” You hope they don’t see how hard you’re trying to keep a straight face. Looking to and fro.
You’re at work now, and you can’t let your emotions get the best of you. 
 "Was just caught trying to add my stack onto pretty boy's plate." Morgan says with his usual chuckle.
You detect a slight hint of something else hidden somewhere in there, probably another inside joke that you weren’t in on, but you can’t bring yourself to pay it any mind. 
So you let out a small, ‘hm’ to let them know that you heard what he said, and you eventually turn your back to them to reach your desk.
You don’t see the way Derek shoots you a knowing look.
And you don’t see the way Spencer looks at you longingly either. Too busy burying yourself in another stack of files, sure to go overtime once again, to drown out the unknown feeling that was welling up inside you. 
Did you hate Spencer Reid?
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“Isn’t it amazing he knows what he knows and he’s only twenty-four?” Gideon huffs out and gives Aaron a small smile in response.
“Imagine what he’ll know by fifty.” 
It’s times like these that you remember that he does have the capability to smile. Well of course he’s smiling, his surrogate son looked like he was having the time of his life, blowing out those trick candles. 
Everyone crowded around him.
Everyone but you and the two seniors.
You want this moment to be something that everyone can enjoy, and you know just how much it would sour Gideon’s mood if you were right over there. So you opted to take your place right next to Hotch.
And Hotch seemed to notice that.
“Why aren’t you with the rest of them?”
You really don’t want to answer that right now. Not when the reason is staring right back at you, waiting for your response as well.
“I can see the party just fine from here.” Is what you settle for, and look right at Spencer’s still heaving back to make a point.
Before he could question it any further, he’s called to the other side of the room where a phone call was waiting for him. 
Reid takes the opportunity to excuse himself and take his place by Gideon’s side.
“You having fun?” The elder asks and he nods slowly at that.
“Yes, definitely. I am definitely– having fun.” 
He punctuates each pause with a tight-lipped smile and a snark that is just itching to break free and you can’t help the little chuckle that escapes you. As it happens however, you quickly try to hide it behind a cough and a cover of your mouth.
You’re right next to Gideon, you need to look professional, you think, no matter how cute or ridiculous Spencer might look. 
You quickly try to find Hotch with your eyes to ground yourself. Trying your best to zone out and not pay attention to the conversation happening right beside you, but it’s getting increasingly harder to do that.
“I wonder where the cake was from.” The younger one asks absentmindedly, but you feel the twitch of your fingers at the question. 
Gideon subtly looks over to you, but he doesn’t answer him. Instead asking if he made a wish yet, which quickly changes the trajectory of Spencer’s questions.
You let out a breath of relief, but the moment is short-lived when you see the solemn expression on Hotch’s face.
“Sorry guys. Party’s over.” You put your game face on, and quickly excuse yourself from them to grab your go bag. 
What you didn’t see was that Spencer had failed to notice Gideon’s gaze because he had been looking somewhere else. 
He had been looking at you. Waiting for you to greet him with a happy birthday like the rest of them did.  You were the only one that wasn’t there, after all.
But you had already been looking at Hotch, and that, he notices.
***
The more cases you work for the BAU, the more you realize how much of your work isn't just the investigation anymore. 
You feel it when you still see the victims’ faces when you close your eyes. 
Feel it in the hammer of your chest when you have to face off another degenerate with a gun. 
Feel it in the tenseness of your shoulders when either Spencer, or Gideon, or Hotch, or any of them are looking at you because if they even have the slightest idea that you’re not doing fine, you’ll lose your place on the team.
If you even had one, that is.
It was a strange position you were in. Everyone was expecting you to be boy-genius’ sidekick or something. Having all these ideas of you being someone bigger and stronger than you really were. 
Someone that was smart enough to show him just where to look, but not smart enough for the rest of the local PD to listen to because for some reason, it was more believable when it came out of Dr. Reid’s mouth.
You still remember how Morgan rolled his eyes at you when you corrected him. ‘It’s a ballad, actually. Not a poem.’
What’s worse was that the only person that didn’t seem to have this expectation of you was Spencer himself because he had no idea that any of this was even going on. 
He didn’t ask for this.
He was just doing his job, just like you were.
You’re officially off duty, now that you’re on the flight back to Quantico. So you unfortunately no longer have the excuse to shut away your feelings for the sake of your profession. 
You sigh and figure that maybe a little shut eye could help, but that idea is completely thrown out the window when you hear the soft pads of rubber-soled shoes shuffling on the jet’s carpeted floor.
You look up to see the less than comfortable posture of one Dr. Spencer Reid. Obviously caught between trying to go back to the main space, and just staying near the tail where you were.
Your heart warms at the sight and you invite him over.
You were thankful that he took up on your offer. 
Even under the harsh lights of the craft, you still notice just how soft Spencer looks. Even softer now that he’s donning your gift, and rambling on and on about how cool the color purple was to him. Gesticulating with his hands in a frenzy and you relax for what feels like the first time in months.
If you didn’t work together, you realize, you could’ve been a lot closer. He’s everything that you liked about a guy. He was smart and sensible, with a childlike wonder for anything and everything. 
There was an endless amount of things that he could accomplish, with a brain like that.  
And he was only twenty-four.
He was just like you, so why weren’t you closer? You ask yourself this as you sigh out, but you immediately find your answer in the form of his and your mentor looking right back at you. Whispering amongst themselves and occasionally shaking their heads. 
Looking just like they had earlier when you had brought in Spencer’s cake before the rest of BAU had showed up for duty. 
You know that there’s no way Reid can see them. Not when his back is quite literally turned to them, so you opt to ignore it. Maybe it was all in your head.
And maybe working with him so often wasn’t so bad. 
After all, how could you hate Spencer Reid when he’s this happy from just a scarf?
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You see the scarf again, soon enough. 
Maybe a little too soon.
The BAU had received an urgent call to McAllister, Virginia to investigate the supposed work of a satanic cult. Two bodies that had sustained identical blunt-force trauma to the head were recovered, one skeleton and one fresh, but the team was debating the involvement of the cult in the case.
“You're saying that there's no such thing as devil worship?” Elle asks with disbelief, but is quickly answered by Gideon.
“Not at all. But most of the satanism that we've seen is juveniles damaging property, desecrating churches, cemeteries,” He shrugs a little as he pauses.
“Besides,” you add. “Satanists, removed from religious stigma, are just ethical hedonists. They reject the perceived oppression of the Christian community by building their own, and indulging in more worldly pleasures. They’re not inherently violent.”
The elder nods at that, and you feel a bit proud of yourself in that moment.
“And to my knowledge, there has never been a proven case of a satanic ritual killing in the United States.”
“Well, maybe there is now.”
***
The scene is certainly interesting.
Gideon, Reid, JJ, and you were curious about the state of the older body, so you had made your way down the steep slope to check up on it. You get acquainted with the local sheriff while you’re there too and he explains that they found the body when they were doing their own investigation.
 Just seventy-five feet away from where they found Adam.
“It's a man. The male pelvis is more narrow and the opening at the bottom is heart-shaped, as opposed to oval.” Spencer announces as he prods at the body’s clothes with a stick, but he is immediately distracted by another element.
“Melted wax?”
“Candle wax?” JJ asks as she leans forward a bit to see it too. Spencer agrees.
“Candles are used in rituals.”
“They’re also used on birthday cakes.” Gideon is no longer interested in the scene and looks for something else that could be nearby. 
You, however, notice something different about the body. You were expecting it to look different.
If you were blitzed from behind, gravity tells you that you should fall forward. Chest on the ground.
But this skeleton’s chest was facing up. 
“Actually, they were originally used to protect the birthday celebrant from demons for the coming year. As a matter of fact, down to the fourth century, Christianity rejected the birthday celebration as a pagan ritual.”
You nod, seemingly not paying attention, but you add on to that. Much to Spencer's delight.
“Yeah, they thought that evil spirits lurked around the days of major changes so they lit candles for every year that had passed. Anway, sir, do you happen to have a good picture of Adam’s dead body?”
The sheriff narrows his eyes at the two of you, then looks at JJ who only shakes her head with a smile. 
“What kind of kids did you bring out here?” 
***
You’re surprised it took you this long to actually feel like you needed a gun. 
Hotch, as always, had paired you and Spencer together.
 Again. 
But this time, it was to go out on the field.
You had been left behind with him to continue searching the Jenson’s house. To look for anything that could concretely point to the group being responsible if the case ever went to court, but you and Reid found nothing.
And it was expected that you would find nothing. You and him had agreed that it was just far too convenient if you did, but then that kid— Cory— He asked you two to check the abandoned house farther up. 
A house that you’re pretty sure not even his father knew about.
And that’s when you got the idea. It was dark, law enforcers weren’t nearby, and you were trying to trace the tracks of an unsub that lived in an area only locals wouldn’t get lost in. You had every right to feel nervous. 
Especially when you had that sinking feeling that the unsub was the one guiding you right where he wanted you to be.
So when he led you to a house that had the goth kids’ insignia written in bright, red paint, you knew that you had to play along. 
But you also knew that whatever may or may not have been up there, the team wouldn’t want Spencer to see.
You didn’t want him to see.
So you look back at him, and nod. Giving him a look that told him that you would check the house alone, that you had a plan, and that he should stay exactly where he was until you gave him the okay clear.
By the time you got back down, he knew you saw it. 
You saw the girl, and you knew you had to get Spencer out of here.
Fast.
“Was she in there?” Cory grabbed you by the shoulder, and you could only gulp.
You had to think quickly, but you were also still so shocked to see her in– whatever state it was that you saw.
And then this kid was just pretending like he didn't know jackshit about it.
“She was in there.” Was all you could breathe out, vacantly looking past the kid that eventually let you go.
 You instinctively reach for your phone, speed dialing Hotch, but the service was so bad up here that it wouldn’t even go through. You had to clear the area, in case this goes haywire.
With no other choice, you said what you thought could get him out of there.
“Dr. Reid, I need you to check back downhill and see if the deputies have returned.” He looks at you incredulously.
“What? No! I can’t leave you here– ” 
“We need the rest of the sheriffs and the crime scene team here.” Looking dead into his eyes, he still doesn’t relent.
You need to calm yourself down. The more he thinks you’re not okay, the more difficult it’s going to be to convince him to leave.
He whispers your name as if it’ll persuade you. Grasping your shoulders like Cory did, albeit more gently.
“Right now, you’re experiencing an acute stress response, also known as the fight-or-flight response. It would be much safer for all of us to–” “Do as you’re told.” 
He freezes, but he’s still looking right at you. Eyes shaking in what you assume to be fear or worry, but he eventually nods and leaves. Constantly looking over his shoulder at you and he trips a little because of it.
You make sure that he’s out of sight before turning back to the football-genius. 
 You saw the gun he wasn’t so subtly concealing in his pants, and there was no way you were going to risk him hurting anyone else. You included.
You position yourself right in front of the house. If he makes a break for it and runs in there, it’ll be game over for just one cop and one manic robber. So you try to keep the open forest his only escape route.
That’s when you start cornering him. 
Telling him that you knew what the profile said about the killer and how it all seemed too good to be true. How the crime had to have been done by someone who was just as smart and connected as him.
How it could have only been done by him.
What you failed to take into account however was how Spencer would have definitely come back to check on you and report his findings.
Your heart drops as he stumbles into the fray.
Which is why you’re here right now.
Gun drawn at the kid, with his own resting right on your friend’s head. 
“She shouldn't have gotten mixed up in all this, it was his run! I didn’t mean to hurt her, but make no mistake– I will shoot your boy right now.”
You raise your hands and drop your gun in surrender. Scared of what he might do to him if you don’t.
—-
You hear Aaron Hotchner shout for you as he approaches uphill and you sigh. 
You’re fully expecting to hear a lecture, but not the look of deep impatience that graces your supervisor’s face.
 “Agent, I hope you understood what just happened.”
You shrink under his gaze, but he doesn’t let up. “Your actions during this operation put both you, and Reid, in serious danger.”
“Sir, but we handled it. I even made extra sure to evacuate Dr. Reid from the premises, I just wasn’t expecting him to come back and–”
“But that doesn't change the fact that he had a gun on Reid mere moments before you took him down. You were antagonizing him and while you may have been successful in apprehending him, what you did also put Reid at risk.”
This was unfair. 
He was talking like you hadn’t had the same gun pointed at you too. 
Like he hadn't made an effort to shoot at you.
There was nothing you could’ve said that could stop him, and you acted as fast as you could but you knew Hotch wouldn’t listen to any of it.
So you stayed quiet. Nodding along in understanding as he gave you a rundown of everything that you could’ve done better, and anything that you could’ve said differently.
Things that, he said, you could’ve done better while trying to keep yourself calm. 
Tring to keep yourself calm after discovering a dead body, and being threatened by someone that had your friend at gunpoint.
What’s worse is that not even a moment after Hotch left you to talk to the rest of the team, Morgan came and it looked like he had his fair share of complaints too.
“Sir Derek Morgan, I understand that you might be mad–” “Oh, so you know I’m mad?” You curse and groan out childishly, you know that, but you just really wanted to leave now. 
“Kid, I get that he jumped you, but you can’t just go rogue and expect everyone else to know what you’re doing.” 
You scoff.
“I didn’t go ‘rogue,’ I sent out Spencer to get backup so I could handle him myself. He would’ve been out of the line of fire. I did that to protect him–”
“No. You did that to play hero.” 
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 
“Splitting up and acting on your own like that wasn’t heroic. It was reckless. Do you know how much sleep he’s losing right now and how much more he’s going to lose just when all of this hits?”
You shake your head humorlessly. Why is it always about him?
 You’re not responsible for knowing anything and everything about him, you’ve barely known each other for a year. Why is it suddenly part of your job description to be boy-genius' caretaker?
“He’s been having nightmares,” he says your name with a weight in it.
“Don’t give him any more reasons to stay up at night.”
And he just leaves you right there. Going up to the very guy you were talking about, who was being checked by the only medic the county had on standby. Probing to see if he was alright. 
And he seemed like it. If the way his face lit up at Morgan’s embrace or the way that he smiled when JJ congratulated him was anything to go by. 
Or the way that Hotch patted his back to soothe him.
 Or the way that Elle seemed to be intently listening to what he was saying–
He’s not your responsibility, so why the hell should you care?
God, it just wasn't fair.
And you know that. You know that he didn’t ask for any of this to happen, and that you should be happy that he’s fine–
But you can’t bring yourself to look at him for any longer. Not when he goes to look at you with that tight-lipped smile and raised brows that makes him look like he can’t do anything without you.
Not when it’s starting to look like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Not when it starts to feel like he’s doing this on purpose.
You’re starting to hate Spencer Reid.
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After Morgan knocks some sense into the camera man that had been spying on the pair, Elle is the one that gives you his camera and makes her way to Spencer first. You know exactly what should be on that film, but you just wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. 
That maybe if you didn’t look at it any closer, you wouldn’t see anything that could make you hate him more than you already do.
That he had been behaving and just being the good, perfect boy that Gideon and Hotch, and everyone else, seemed to rave on and on about.
But you didn’t even need a proper light to see just what was on it.
And you made sure he knew exactly what he had done.
“I– I fell in–”
“Doctor Spencer Reid!” Seeing you walking towards him with an anger he had never seen directed towards anyone before made him freeze where he stood. Cowering under your gaze.
“What in the fuck was going on inside you goddamn head, huh?” Elle had already left by then to talk to the camera guy with Morgan just a few feet away to leave you two to it. 
She knew what was going to happen, and she was going to let it. It needed to.
“It was an accident, I swear! She pulled me in and I—” He tried to reason, but you were having none out of it.
“And you what? Decided that then and there was the right place to eat her face off? Might I remind you that you are still on duty and this behavior is completely unacceptable!”
 If this had been you, this is exactly what you would’ve been lectured about.
But Spencer feels his brows knitting together and he shakes his head in confusion.
“You’re-- not jealous about me kissing Lila?”
“You think I’m what?!” 
You cannot believe the gall of this man. 
Cannot comprehend how oblivious he seems to the severity of the situation. 
And for what, because some hot blonde just happened to give him the slightest bit of attention? That since the rest of the team wasn’t around, he could go ahead and play house with some model and waste all his training on the field for nothing? 
You shake your head incredulously at the thought. 
“I don't know just what the hell is going on in that fuckass head of yours, Doctor, but that little bone-headed stunt that you just pulled? Could’ve cost you your life and hers.” 
Spencer tried to quell your anger. Tried to apologize, but you just kept going. Seemingly growing more and more frustrated at his feeble attempts.
 “I couldn’t give less of a shit who you do and don’t kiss in your spare time, Mr. 187. But let me remind you of something in case that brain of yours got all scrambled from exchanging extracellular fluids with Miss Archer,” 
No longer caring for his aversion for germs, because he certainly stopped caring about that earlier today, you brought your index and middle finger up to rest dead center on his forehead.
He closed his eyes and whimpered at your touch.
“You are still being pursued by a psychotic killer who is going around, shooting people in the head. We’re lucky that the guy in the bushes was just some sorry voyeur doing his goddamn job, but if it had been anyone else, you would’ve been fucking–!” 
Spencer feels the contact get ripped away from him suddenly, and he instinctively chases after it. 
The realization of how insane that must’ve been however, makes him open his eyes. 
He sees Morgan pulling you into his chest as he strides towards Lila’s house. He sees you struggle against the hold, but as his friend keeps shushing you and repeating your name from inside, you eventually calm down and relax. Disappearing into his form as Derek’s back now faces him and he can’t see you anymore.
The boy-genius feels his heart clench at the sight. A feeling not so dissimilar to what he felt when the blonde first started kissing him. 
He didn’t know what to do then. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but some small, sick part of him just wanted your attention on him so badly that he was willing to do whatever it took for that to happen.
He had been waiting for so long–
But as he recalls how you were seething at him, how even though he had your eyes right where he wanted them to be, all he could feel was the heavy cloak of shame burdening him. Weighing on his form like the weight of his wet, pool bacteria-infected clothes.
And something tells him that no amount of bathing or scrubbing would ever rid him of it. 
He doesn’t even notice the rest of the team coming back to apprehend the trespasser until Elle picks up the roll of film that you had dropped when you were dragged away. Holding it out for him to take. 
He extends his hand out of instinct, but he crushes it soon after he recognizes what’s on it.
“You’re welcome, by the way.” Is all that she says as she leaves him frozen there too. 
***
Meanwhile, you were still in Derek’s arms. Crying like some young little fragile thing and you hated it. 
You didn’t even know why you were crying anymore because even you knew that breaking a code of conduct was nothing to shed a few tears over.
“Come on, sweet girl, talk to me.” Morgan coos as he continues to hug you, which makes you sob all the harder. Embarrassed that an authority figure just saw you lose your shit on the job, so you shake your head no.
He’s probably going to tell Hotch and you’re going to get transferred out–
“We can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 
But somehow those exact words had you spilling your heart out on to him. Doing so in such a frantic state as if this was a one-time opportunity that you were never going to be granted ever again.
So much so that all your insecurities came out of your mouth in word vomit.
How you tried so hard to do everything right. How you fought tooth and nail just to make it onto the team. 
How even though you were just as young as Reid, everyone else seemed to dote on him more. 
How everyone expected you to know just as much, if not more, than him so that he wouldn’t feel so out of place, and how every time that you didn’t, everyone only seemed to care because you had put him in danger.
How none of your efforts were ever noticed because they would either be overshadowed by Spencer’s, or brushed aside because it was not enough to make up for something that could’ve gotten him hurt.
And most of all, how bad you felt because none of it was his fault, and you knew you were being unfair to him.
And Morgan listened to all of it. Listening and occasionally apologizing when he knew that he had been guilty of one or two of those transgressions.
Patting your back and giving you all the comfort that he could before he knew you had to refocus on the case.
When you see Spencer again, his eyes remain low and you can’t bring yourself to apologize in that instant because you were still on duty and work had to be done.
No matter how sorry and how pathetic you felt, it had to wait.
What you don’t see is how his gaze lingers on his friend’s hand. Absent-mindedly moving up and down your arm in, what he understands to be, a protective manner. 
—————
He was being a distraction. A liability. To the case, or to Lila, or to you, you’re not sure anymore, but you needed him out. So you did exactly what you were hired at the BAU to do.
You’ve always thought the art piece on Lila’s wall was bizarre. And now that you’re looking at it again with a much clearer mind, you finally see why.
You had asked for everyone in the room to take the wall apart, after gaining Lila’s approval, and you all pieced together the final clue.
 A mural depicting the birth of the star that is now Lila Archer. 
After Spencer points out that the man in the mural was his ex-classmate, Parker Dunley, the team sees no further reason to question his involvement and makes the preparations to leave. 
Yet something is gnawing at you, telling you that this can’t be it. 
And at this point? No one is going to listen to a theory you have because nobody listens to you once Spencer says anything.
So you suggest the next best thing.
“Excuse me?” Your unit chief raises his eyebrows at your suggestion, but you can tell that it’s mostly a formality.
“Sir, with all due respect, it is in our best interest to relieve Dr. Reid of his position as Miss Archer’s bodyguard. He is now a potential target, and he knows Parker Dunley best among all of you. He would be most useful to the investigation if he joined the others.”
Spencer makes no attempt to contest, wanting nothing more than to just get this over with and talk to you when it’s all done, and Lila doesn’t say anything either. Just wanting the ‘traitor’ to leave her house and never come back.
Hotch senses this and sighs. He looks over to Gideon, who looks like he couldn’t care any less, and then back to you. 
“Alright then. You’re switching places with Reid. We’ll let you know if anything happens.”
He then discusses with the others that he’ll be joining JJ at the local PD while Morgan, Elle, Reid, and Gideon will be closing in on Dunley.
So that left you alone with Lila, which was going a lot easier than you had expected it to.
“I’m sorry about your boyfriend. If I knew you were a thing, I wouldn’t have tried so hard to kiss him.”
She seemed so guilty as she said it and you just shook your head, but you noted the use of the term, “try.”
“Oh Miss Archer, please don’t apologize. He's not my boyfriend. I was just really upset that he could’ve gotten you hurt when he was supposed to be protecting you.” 
You move to stand a little closer to her, still keeping a fair amount of distance so you wouldn’t crowd her. 
"Besides, I think he's more into you than you think."
Under more normal circumstances, you supposed that they could work. Spencer most likely only hesitated because he was holding on to some semblance of professionalism he could maintain with the beautiful woman.
In another life, maybe this would've panned out differently.
“I saw the way he looked at you, you know?” Now that interests you and you tilt your head at her. 
“Like he hated me?” 
Her laugh was empty as she shook her head. “You’re just like him.” Is all she said.
But before you could ask any further, a call had interrupted you. 
You looked at the caller ID and saw that it was the very guy you were talking about. ‘Dr. Reid,’ it read.  The sight makes you sigh.
You know him well enough that he would never call you for work, and that this must have been for something personal. 
‘Stay professional,’ you told yourself, so you drop the call.
If it had really been important, someone else would call you.
As soon as you move to put your phone down however, it rang again. You checked it and fair enough, this time it was from Derek Morgan. 
You bring the phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Sweet girl, listen to me. We have a name, and it’s ‘Maggie Lowe.’ We’re on our wa—Christ man—we're on our way back over there, okay? Stay put and we’ll let Hotch and JJ know.” 
There’s shouting from his end that worries you, but you nod with a hum and end the call. 
You turned back to Lila and asked her very hurriedly if she knew anyone by that name, and her reaction tells you everything. 
You try to tell her that she’s the unsub and just while she’s still confused at your sudden change in demeanor, her phone rings. 
She shows you that it’s ‘Mags’, her friend, and you immediately try to calm her down and ask her to keep her friend on the phone. Expressing softly, but with great urgency, that it is imperative they keep her on the line.
Just as Lila answers, you immediately dial Garcia. “Oracle of Quantico, speak if you deign to hear the truth.”
“Miss Garcia, I need an emergency trace to a cell phone from Lila Archer’s phone.” 
You hear her gasp a little, reasonably concerned that you had been speaking so softly. A stark contrast to your usually strong and sure voice, but she steels her own and lets you know that she’s on it. 
You recite to her Lila’s phone number, having memorized it from her manager, and you instinctively look back at her to see her still pacing on the phone. 
You try to smile warmly, mentally patting her on the back for her efforts, and she nods back in response. Somewhat thankful for yours. 
As you wait, you suddenly remember Spencer’s phone call from earlier. Was this why he called?
Fuck, what if he wondered off and had been calling for backup but you just dropped the phone on him?
Maggie could be anywhere. It would be no surprise to you if she had actually gone back to find Dunley to eradicate any leads that could trace back to her. What if she was–
You’re quick to tune back into your own call however when you hear Penelope halt her typing and call out your name. 
“Is Lila’s address 6028 Pike Street?”
You don’t like where this is going. “Yeah.”
“She’s calling from inside the house.”  You sigh, in relief? In fear?
 “I’m sending you backup right now, please be safe, my love.” She says with a tremor in her voice and you drop the call immediately. Catching the attention of the blonde in front of you.
“Lila–” but then you hear a shout and a thud from another room and you shake your head. You didn’t need to ask how she got in the house because that wasn’t important anymore. 
The profile was. And the profile said that it was an erotomanic killer. 
You could work with that. 
—----
It didn’t take long for you to find Maggie. Well, you'd laugh if you could, because it was more like she found you. 
On the other end of her gun. 
With Lila in her arms.
There was no way that you could stall for however long it would take for the rest of your team to get here, so your best shot at surviving this was to talk her out of it.
“Maggie, put the gun down–”
“Don’t call me Maggie, you don’t know me.” She spit out, venom in her voice as she tried ushering Lila out with her.
“I know what it’s like.”
 You don’t know what the fuck you were saying, but you were panicking. It wasn’t your first time being held at gunpoint, it had happened so often that Hotch even claimed you were always begging for it.
But this was different. None of the right words were coming to you. 
You had to think of a way to deal with this, fast, and you didn’t know how to make it believable enough.
“No you don’t, little girl. Don’t pretend like you do.”
“But I do!” You put your gun down in a panic and held your hands up in surrender.
“I know what it’s like to l-” your mouth went dry. “To love someone– someone that doesn’t love you back.” 
You seriously don’t know what the fuck you’re saying. 
Maggie laughs at what you say though.
“Well it sucks to be you, but my baby loves me. Isn’t that right?” She makes a show of tucking Lila’s hair behind her ear, but even through her fear, she denies her friend. 
“I don’t, Mags.” Maggie’s jaw tightens at that.
“Yes you do, I know you do– Don’t act like you don’t, you stupid, ungrateful–” you cut her off. 
“She doesn’t, Miss Lowe. And I know you know that.” She shakes her head, but still keeps her gun on Lila.
You push a little harder. “I know because I know what it’s like to love someone. To meet your match.” You approach her just a little.
She shifts the gun to you now, but you continue to push. 
“I know what it feels like to get tunnel vision. Where nothing matters, not even yourself, as long as it makes her happy. Keeps her safe. ” 
You look her in the eye, and you can tell that it’s not enough. You need to switch gears, but you can’t think of anything else to do.
“And– And I know what it’s like–to feel everything so strongly—so much so that you don’t even know what’s happening until it just is.”
You realize it now. It was all you
It was never about the teasing of your teammates, never about the expectation that Hotch or Gideon had.  
You never hated Spencer. You just wanted to belong. You just wanted to be treated like how he was. 
The realization makes your eyes water.
You didn’t even notice it, but as more and more words fall free from your mouth, all you can think about is him.
 About how you’re sorry. About how you never meant to hurt him. About how he doesn’t deserve your frustrations and that everything you did was just for him.
About how you could never hate anyone as loveable as him. 
You shake the thought away. Hands still up high.
Maggie’s eyes narrow, her finger twitching on the trigger. “You think you can understand me, huh? Talk your way out?”
You shake your head. “No, but I think I can reach you,” 
You take a step forward.
“I thought I hated him, Maggie. I thought he was doing it all on purpose. Kept thinking, ‘we were so similar.’ So why was it that being smart was special, and made everyone treasure him, but not me? And I think, maybe–”
You take another.  
“Maybe I was just scared. Scared that I wasn’t good enough. That I would always be overshadowed.”
Maggie’s grip on the gun tightens. “So what? You think that makes us the same?”
“No,” you say softly, taking another careful step forward.
 “But I do think that you’re the type of person that’s willing to do anything, no matter how desperate, to be seen.”
Maggie’s expression wavers, but the gun remains steady. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough,” you insist. “I know that hurting Lila won’t fill that void. It won’t give you what you’re looking for.”
Maggie’s hand trembles. “I would never hurt her--”
“Yes, you will. You will because you’re a danger to her, but that can change. You don’t have to hurt anyone anymore.”
Maggie’s face contorted with rage. 
“Shut up! You don’t know anything!”
When Maggie goes to shoot at you, you tackle the gun out of her hand. Wrestling her to the ground as you did.
 You look behind you and tell Lila to hurry and grab your gun from off the floor and leave, and she does just that.
 Not even sparing you, nor her ‘friend,’ a glance as she makes her escape to where you hope your team now was.
From outside, the team sees Lila holding a gun like a bomb in her hands, and running into the arms of Spencer Reid. The others that were still in their car quickly try to get out. To understand the situation, but then a single gunshot is heard from inside the house.
The rest of the team rushes in. 
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Due to the results of my poll, there will be a part two! One where it's all from Spencer's point of view + the aftermath of this case lol
Please let me know what you think of this one though!! Or any ideas you might want to see in the second part, or literally anything at all--
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