wait for your love, spencer reid (pt. 2)
this is the second part to this. tysm for all the love on the first part, as well as all the new follows. this literally took so long, and i'm literally so sorry. i suck, but i hope you all enjoy it nonetheless. xx
you can read the alternate version for jj right here.
pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader | spencer reid x bau! reader | s7 team x bau! reader (platonic)
summary: following the dismissal of the case against the bureau, you're trying to get back into the swing of things. that moment of realization that comes with discovering the love you feel for someone else isn't reciprocates is never fun. but it's a truth you're meant to accept nonetheless, with a bit of help from your dearest friend spencer, you find that through a conversation about the realities of music and their hidden messages getting the courage to move on is not quite as difficult as you might have initially thought. especially when there's someone like spencer reid waiting on the other side. except of course, things always get difficult when it seems now as you're moving on, the past object of your desires is believed to feel the same way you always have.
content warnings: this is the sequel to angst lol. it's still very kind of angsty, but not as bad! it doesn't exactly end with spence/reader running off into the distance together, but i think it has a very bittersweet & sort of hopeful ending, which i felt made the most sense for a storyline like this. sometimes people have feelings for people that don't like them back, and sometimes it's just something we have to deal with.. sad but true. && i didn't want spence to seem like a rebound for reader, so i tried to go the route of her slowly putting the pieces together that maybe spence had romantic feelings for her && going from there. still spencer somewhat confesses his feelings for reader, hints that hotch might actually like reader, jj/reader reconciliation, because it needed to happen soz! she might have feelings for y/n too idk... she's kinda pulling everybody. this feels kinda melodramatic, but also idk i want epic romance vibes so i tried my best xx
i also love how hotch was such a focal part of this story and never physically showed up once... hmm.
tagged the people that asked for part 2 xx
@stvrlitsky , @cocopuff213 , @aaronhotchnerlover , @ofagathachristies , @blurpleuni-squid , @wolf-phoenix-lover , @babyspiderling , @queermaxwooo , @jihyowrrld , @minkyungseokie , @silentjudger , @btskzfav , @barbeddreams , @ah-blossom , @darker-december
It had been about a week since the court proceedings, you'd been more than a little surprised to find that you all managed to walk away scot free. You still hadn't managed to work up the courage to place your resignation papers on Hotch's desk, probably because you still hadn't gotten up the strength to face him or anyone else for that matter. You weren't outwardly abrasive, you'd offer small nods of greeting when you showed up in the morning, waves as you left.
But everyone knew that it wasn't the same.
Penelope had been trying to get you out for a night of bonding with her, Emily, and JJ, and you'd been keen on turning her down. You don't think you were quite there yet, the wound however surface level was still fresh. Looking at Emily, only reminded you of your grief, how much you had missed her. Looking at JJ only reminded you of how she hadn't had the courage necessary to tell you the truth. You'd tried to take their positions into account, look at things through a different view, but it hardly worked. You just wanted to be left alone.
Spencer was still the only one privy to the thoughts you had about ending your career at the FBI, and everyday he seemed to be holding his breath. It had become a habit to catch him staring at you with his face pinched up like he was deep in thought. It was partially why, even as your eyes skimmed over a file, you knew that he was looking in your direction. "Spence." you mutter quietly, eyes not quite meeting his as you highlighted something of importance in blue.
He sits at attention, back straight, eyes wide. He looked like a puppy that'd been caught doing something bad and was waiting for punishment. "You're doing it again." you exhale, and then you finally manage to peel your eyes from your work, eyebrow raising as you take him in tiredly. "Do you need something?" and he bares down on his bottom lip, almost as if he was thinking over his next move. He stands tall, grabbing hold of his chair and tugging it until it was planted on the other side of yours, before he sat down politely.
"Are you okay?" he's talking quietly, likely to salvage a bit of your privacy. You'd become a bit of a walking attraction in the bullpen, everyone seemed to follow every one of your actions with their eyes. You tap your highlighter against your desk, head tipping to the side as you scrutinize the man. You didn't know exactly what was going on with Spencer, but you had a small inkling, it was nothing more than an internal feeling if you were completely honest about it.
Your sister had been asking about him quite constantly lately, and after learning that day in the courtroom that for some odd reason the duo spoke over the phone, it made you pay a bit more attention to the certified genius than before. "I'm fine, Spencer. Just like I was when you asked me yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that." you keep your tone light, not wanting him to think that you were by any means annoyed with him. "What's going on?"
"I guess I keep waiting for you to disappear." he admits, head nodding involuntarily. "You're here right now, and you look fine." he continues, and you like listening to him, even if he was breaking one of the rules, and choosing to profile you. "So shouldn't things feel different? Better at least, like before?" he asks, and you don't expect that. Maybe he wasn't profiling you at all, and instead was expressing himself to a friend. "At least a little bit?" he asks, and you think it over.
"I don't think it'll ever be like before, Spence." and you hate to be the Betty Buzzkill, but it's as true as you can be. "How can it?" and Spencer's eyes jump across the room, landing on Emily who was not so subtly watching the two of you speak. You follow his gaze, and blink harshly when Emily's eyes connect with your own. It forces you to look right back at Spencer. He looks pensive, and you wonder how long he's been working up the courage to say more than 'Are you alright?'
"She was dead... and now suddenly she's not. That's great, but I grieved my friend, and maybe I'm not done grieving the Emily I knew before." and it's the first time you're admitting this aloud. "Our Emily, not the- Interpol Superspy." and you huff. "And look, I know I should be grateful, how many people get back the people they love after death?" and Spencer doesn't answer. "But is she really back? Is she really still our Emily? And how long before she's ready to pack up her stuff and take off? I'm not opening myself up to that again."
Spencer thinks your point is valid, he at one point had insisted that he had the worse abandonment issues on the team, but you had been right there through most of it. You were, in your own way protecting yourself from being hurt again. He couldn't fault you for that, none of them should. "I understand." and truthfully he does, and he's glad that at least you trust him enough to be upfront about it. "There's nothing wrong with shielding yourself from heartache, I just don't want you to close off completely... not from all of us."
You falter, and Spencer hates that he can't just say that he doesn't want you to close off from him. He didn't want this situation to change the way you behaved with him, he couldn't handle losing you.
"I won't." you promise. "And I won't do anything to jeopardize what we do here, I've got enough self control to be civil." you add with a small smile. "I haven't quite decided what a future at the bureau will look like, but I am willing to give things here a chance to get better." and you do love your work, Profiling was something you enjoyed doing, you wouldn't toss it away, unless you absolutely had no other choice. "So you don't have to worry about losing me, Spence." and you hold your breath, mostly because it's a bit audacious on your part.
He offers you a half smile, and you notice the way he visibly relaxes. Still, he doesn't want you to feel obligated to stay somewhere just for his sake, so he feels the need to be honest with you. "I'm not worried." he promises you, and it's a tiny fib, one that could become true if he grew just a touch more confidence. "Even if you did decide to leave one day I would put in the work to keep you in my life." and his smile stretches across his face now, and reaches his eyes. "You're not someone anyone would want to lose." your stomach twists.
"You're not either, Spencer." and you say it firmly, mainly to show just how much you need him to believe it. "I'd just make it my job to take up all your free time outside of work." and his face feels incessantly warm, like he'd stuck his head directly in the stream of scalding shower water. The funny thing about you was that you were oftentimes one of the hardest on the team to read. He figured that because he spent so much time hyper focused on you that he'd get better at it. He still hadn't, and you still managed to leave him stuck.
Comments like the one you just made were common for you, but the meaning behind it always escaped him. Were you flirting with him or were you just being nice? Was it possible that you knew that he had feelings for you? Were you using him as a rebound after the mess you'd found yourself entangled into with Hotch just months ago? The thought of him merely being an emotional rebound made him sad, disappointed, and insecure. But then he's taking in your expression, how despite your confidence you still look shy, and reels it in.
You had never been that sort of person, maybe you were just as oblivious as he was. "I'd be okay with that now." and you look a bit surprised, but also pleased. You nod your head slightly, leaning forward just a little in your seat. Spencer isn't sure if he's moved too quickly, but he's got no room to second guess it now.
"We should do something." it's not at all what he'd expected you to say, and he's surprised, it's more than evident on his face.
"Who? Us? Just the two of us?" he asks, and you find yourself offering him an amused sort of glance.
"Yeah, it could be fun." you insist, and you're not trying to play with his feelings, at least not in the traditional sense. Spencer Reid was no rebound. "It's not often we have days off, you know?" and you lean against your palm, head tipping slightly to the side. "Only if you want." you add, hoping that this addition would make him feel a touch more comfortable. It seems to work, because he untenses just a bit.
"Y-Yeah." he nods his head slightly, hair moving with the action just slightly. "Yeah, we should definitely do something." he agrees, and your smile is bright, clearly pleased at the turn of events. "When would you?" his eyes jump to his watch, and he shakes his head. "Obviously, not right now." he says and you're staring at him a bit bemused, because Spencer Reid was nothing if not a bit unserious.
"There's this music store I've been dying to check out." you say, and you witness Spencer's eyes seem to brighten. "It's sort of right on the strip, if you don't mind going with me to look at some vinyls and cd's for my collection, we could just go-" and you're eyebrows are raised, "And see what happens? There's a lot you could do..." you finish, and Spencer's already nodding his head in agreement.
"T-That's..." and he clears his throat, you think to keep you from acknowledging the fact his voice cracked in his nervousness. "Yeah, I don't mind that at all." he agrees politely. "Did you know that in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, record stores only sold gramophone records, but over time they've sold other formats like eight-track tapes, compact cassettes, and compact discs." his hands curl into one another as he relays this message and you snort.
"Did you know that there's a national record store day? It started back in 2008." and he's a bit surprised that you're shooting him a fact of your own, and one that he wasn't actually aware of.
"Really?" he questions, and your eyes sort of crinkle, smile broadening enough to show off both rows of your teeth.
"Don't tell me that I know something the brilliant Doctor Reid doesn't." you tease, and his eyes roll, though his entire demeanor remains lighthearted. "So, what's your poison?" you sidestep, but just barely, your work ignored as you focus all your efforts on keeping this conversation with Reid going.
"My poison?" and his mind of course drifts to alcohol, a bit of a confusing pivot in the conversation. "I don't really see myself as much of a drinker." he admits truthfully, and he's confused when you're laughing, hand flying up to cover your mouth as his face contorts.
"I meant your favorite music genre." you correct. "And I know you're partial to classical," and you try not to stretch your eyes. "It's great when I need to concentrate, but I wouldn't exactly say I'm dying to put on Bach and Tchaikovsky in a regular setting." you explain, both hands resting against your cheeks as you await the hopefully longwinded answer he'd have to give you.
"What if that's my only answer?" he asks, and you scoff.
"It's not." you deadpan, and he exhales through his nose. "I know you and Morgan have that understanding about music..." you explain, head cocked to the side. "He got you to listen to Nas." you remind him as he purses his lips at the reminder. "And Garcia's always sending music recommendations." you proceed as Spencer shoots you a look that clearly reads 'What's your point?'.
"Are you really telling me that out of every genre of music that's ever been released to the entire world, the only genre that's ever stood out to you is the one where old men sit behind a piano and twinkle the keys to their hearts content?" Spencer's releasing another one of those quiet laughs, this one is clearly full of exasperation though.
"I think they're doing a little bit more than twinkling keys." he corrects you, and you know that. You'd only said it to get under his skin just a little, he was fun to mess with. "Classical music is one of the only genres that seemingly does so little and is able to express the full spectrum of human emotion and life experience." he explains, and you fight your smile, leaning in just a bit more to show you were focused. You weren't sure what was happening or if anything was really happening at all, and it was all in your mind.
But you were finding that you didn't mind just listening to Spencer go on and on about whatever he wanted. You thought a lot about what had happened outside of that court room, how he'd listened to you. Really listened to you, and had never once made you feel like the emotional failure you'd imagined yourself to be. You couldn't say that in the span of a week all of your feelings for Hotch had vanished. That'd be bullshit, because deep down you knew it wasn't that easy.
And sometimes you wished it could be, sometimes you wondered why you had to fall for Hotch when Spencer was right there.
Still, whether or not you were being forced to come to grips with the fact that Hotch was not, and wouldn't ever love you the way you loved him, you couldn't deny that it was nice to have a friend there. Spencer wasn't coming to you with heavy confessions and tear-streaked cheeks begging you to look and see that he was perfect for you, which is why you think you like him even more. You knew a lot of times it was hard, rare even to find someone who would just care for you without expecting anything in return. That was Spence to a T.
"Go on." you instruct, and you find that despite the way you'd baited him into this conversation, it was well worth it. He didn't get a lot of time to just be Spencer, and with no clock over your heads, no rush for time to solve a case, you figured it was the least you could do. Especially after he'd spent the last week trying to show you how much he cared.
"I just mean that in classical music, it's actually very common to have one piece of music encompass an entire host of emotions, experiences, and subject matter." he expresses, and you hum, nodding along. "And it's all because most classical pieces use a similar formula that uses textures, dynamic colors and key modulations to express things certain words can't properly articulate." he proceeds. "That's why certain sounds and notes manage to adduce certain reactions." he seems finished.
"Oh, yeah?" you press and he nods limply, seemingly awaiting the moment you offer some jab regarding his oversharing. "I guess Mozart and Beethoven were really onto something." you mutter, and he snorts. "Still, I'd much rather listen to something a bit more obvious." you admit, not that you had a real problem with Classical Music.
"What do you mean?"
"Well I'm just saying... music's always sort of been the perfect tool for expressing everything you might need to say." you counter. "And while I agree that music in any form does a great job of invoking certain emotions, sometimes you don't want to guess what someone means." you admit, and it's partially (mostly) because you had never been good at reading in between the lines. Things always made the most sense when they were plainly spelled out.
"Or maybe that's just a me thing." you correct. "I've found that I always enjoy things when they're a little more laid out... there's no way to misunderstand when it's spelled out for you, right?" you ask and Spencer's lips curve down into a slight frown. He's not pitying you, mostly just sympathizing with how torn up you must have been about everything. Especially as your eyes instinctively are drawn to the shut doorway of Hotch's office. Spencer thinks that's when reality sets back in and hits him like a brick.
Because he knew something that you didn't. Something that would probably make everything better for you, but would undoubtedly double his heartache. In truth, he, much like everyone else on the team tried their hardest to ignore just how obvious you'd been about your feelings for hotch. spencer more than anyone.
He remembered how things had changed a few months back, how you'd started to move on all for the rug to be pulled from up under your feet. It had been outwardly cruel, undoubtedly. because while everyone else on the team seemed to be just fine with 'don't ask, don't tell', Spencer had been unable to not pay attention to the way Hotch had actually changed too. Did he hate him? Absolutely not... and he knew you didn't either, because despite how idiotic the plan was, he hadn't done much besides give you more attention.
And Spencer guessed the act of giving you more attention had unsurprisingly ended with Aaron Hotchner realizing it was something he actually enjoyed. Hence the sudden change their boss underwent.
He supposed that was the worst part about it all, the fact that everyone had the right to tell you that "nothing had happened", and there was nothing you could do about it. Because in the grand scheme of things nothing really had happened. Hotch was no heartless womanizer, Spencer couldn't even imagine the man flirting with anyone, let alone stringing someone along for kicks. Still, that didn't change the fact that you'd gotten your hopes up, and now you were back to your own harsh reality.
Not because it wasn't a real possibility, more so because Hotch was self destructive, and sabotaged himself and his happiness at every turn. Spencer wants to stay quiet, to bask in the fact that you were slowly on your own terms getting over Hotch, and paying more attention to him, but he can't do that. He'd hate it if someone did it to him. So instead he decides to throw you a bone, push you in the right direction. "Why haven't you just talked to him?" it's not what he had meant to say. He had meant to play the role of the supportive friend.
He'd wanted to pat you on the back, mumble some agreeance that would validate how you were feeling, and possibly give him cool points. Instead, here he was about to push you in the direction of someone else. He supposed that's how stupid love made you.
"What?" you exclaim, and Spencer doesn't know what's so exasperating about his question. It was obvious that you needed to, it wasn't fair that you were slowly deteriorating on the inside whilst trying to maintain some semblance of being a "team player". He said 'screw the team' if it wasn't genuine. And clearly, from the way you'd still been icing out JJ and Emily, it wasn't. Not fully anyway. He'd never rush you to get over it, mostly because it'd make him a hypocrite. He still cringes at the thought of the tears he'd shed to JJ.
But, that was his own problem.
"Hotch." he lowers his voice a little, because it's just now hitting him that the two of you have been slacking off for a while now. Emily wasn't exactly focused in on the both of you anymore, but every so often, he'd find that she still look up every few moments. JJ, Derek, and Rossi had made a habit of leaving their respective offices, eyes glued to what was apparently becoming unit news. "You should talk to him." he says simply as your eyes cross dramatically.
"What's there to talk about?" you ask suddenly distracted by a smudge on the corner of your desk.
"What happened." he says simply. "I mean, don't you think there might be some explanation you might be missing?" Spencer tries, and you curl into yourself just a little bit.
"It's still work hours and he's still Hotch." you deny, and Spencer's lips push to the side, an obvious sign of his slight discomfort about what he was going to say next. "He's not going to want to talk about it." you admit. "And what exactly do you say in a conversation like that? Oh by the way boss, I was in love with you, and it kinda felt like maybe you felt the same, except oh wait, it was just a ploy to keep me from realizing you were lying about Emily being alive?" you say sarcastically. Spencer huffs in retaliation.
"Yes actually, you could say exactly that. Maybe you'll learn something you didn't know before." he deadpans, and your nose curls. You cut your eyes over at the man, who's not amused.
"I kinda thought you'd be the last person pushing for this sort of confrontation, you know?' you admit before you can really help yourself. You watch as Spencer's face seems to set into one of surprise, his cheeks and neck slowly gaining a red sort of tint to them.
"What do you mean?" he questions, and your mouth parts just slightly. And you think the same way he's been gentle with you is the exact same way you need to be gentle with him, so you pivot, head shaking from side to side.
"Nothing." you say firmly. "Forget about it." you say quietly, and then you're looking back at your paperwork. Spencer, embarrassed finds himself fiddling with his fingers, trying to scold his heartbeat back into submission. It suddenly felt way too cramped sitting at your desk.
"You should go after work." he says, and your eyes snap back to him. "Talk to Hotch after work, I mean." he says and your stomach feels a bit tight. "I think it'll be best." he proceeds, and you frown.
"You do?" you question, and you try not to sound despondent.
"Y-Yeah, I do." he agrees despite his stutter. "Things like this don't go away on their own, you know?" and you chew on the inside of your lip, and feel that gloom cloud from earlier making its way back.
"I thought we were supposed to be hanging out today, Spencer." you start and he blinks owlishly, long lashes nearly caressing the tops of his cheekbones.
"We could always raincheck." he says, and you stare at him just a bit blankly. "It's not like it was a date or anything. They were just plans..." he adds, and your teeth chomp down on your bottom lip. He doesn't really know how to read the look on your face, but he knows that he feels like he's being noble.
"Just plans." you shrug your shoulders dismissively. "Right." and then you pick up your pen. "Well if that's what you want, I guess it's fine by me." you add, body curling into itself as you position yourself away from him.
"Isn't that what you want?" he questions, and you cut your eyes.
"Do you think I'd be sitting here if it was?" you keep your voice level, but your leg is bouncing. You're not quite sure why, maybe because Spencer was being Spencer. You supposed your comment that made it clear that you knew that he had feelings for you had scared him. Now, he was trying to protect himself, but you weren't so hungry for a relationship that you'd string him along for the sole purpose of getting over Hotch. You would've made this call had you figured it out or not, and you supposed the fact he didn't get that was what sucked. "I'm not that pathetic." you add with a quiet scoff.
"It's not about you being pathetic." he denies. "I don't think that about you., I just know that you're in a vulnerable place. You had real feelings for him, and I think it'd be best for you to get it all off your chest correctly, before you start projecting all those leftover feelings to the first person you can." and he doesn't mean it in the way it sounds. In fact the statistics about rebounds would sound a lot worse, but as usual, he's horrible at communicating exactly what he feels.
You blink. Once, twice, three times.
"I can't believe you just said that to me." you say, and you're abruptly standing up, mostly because you're about to cry like the fucking baby you were. Spencer's certain this is a new record for how quickly things could go left just because he couldn't shut the hell up. What he'd been trying to convey was that after a rejection, it was much easier to mistake platonic feelings for romantic ones. He had been a consistent shoulder for you to lean on since everything went south.
He didn't want you to think that he was being nice to you only because he had feelings for you, and convince yourself that you felt the same all because you refused to fully shut the door with Hotch. But he'd never actually meant to make it seem like you'd be so desperate, and especially not with him. "Y/N, wait. That's not what I meant-" except you're already leaving, taking in the shaky breath that told him he'd stupidly made you cry.
"L/N?" Emily's calling as you pass her, but you don't respond to her either. Instead you're rushing off in the direction of the bathroom, likely to calm yourself down. Emily's eyes are immediately snapping over to Spencer, and her eyebrows are furrowed. He instinctively looks away, internally cursing himself out.
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"Y/N/N?" you're surprised to hear JJ entering the bathroom, and you're hurriedly moving to splash at your face with water to keep it from looking so puffy. Still, JJ was as perceptive as she was pushy, so it's clear she's already put it together that you're crying. "Hey, is everything alright?" she takes on that motherly tone she uses with Henry, and the rest of the team when they're feeling down.
"I'm fine." you insist, and she doesn't look convinced. She takes a tentative step towards you, standing beside the sink you were occupying. "Seriously JJ, please just leave me alone." you partially beg.
"I know you're upset with me, but you're still my friend." she reminds you. "I'm not going to leave you in here when it's clear you're upset." she exclaims. "So you can talk to me or not, but I'm not going anywhere." she deadpans, and you sniffle, rubbing harshly at your cheeks. They're sensitive to the action, blood rushing to your face.
"You're so annoying." you mumble, but there's no bite. It makes JJ snicker, and it's a step in the right direction you're sure.
"It's my job." she retorts with a shrug, and she leans her back against the sink beside you, legs crossing slightly. "Is everything okay?" she tries again, much more gently as you frown. No, everything was not okay. You hadn't actually expected to be sitting here crying over Spencer's remark, but you supposed that the fact he believed you'd ever use him as a rebound had kind of hurt. You supposed it also didn't help that he'd so callously canceled your plans.
You'd actually started to look forward to hanging out with him.
"Do you think I'm desperate?" you question haughtily, and JJ's eyes widen, surprise overtaking her features as she turns to you fully.
"Of course not." she denies firmly, blonde ponytail bobbing with all her intense animation. "What would make you think that?" she pries, and you cut your eyes just slightly.
"You guys could have trusted me with the truth." you counter, and she falls silent. "And even if you couldn't there were so many other ways to keep me from finding out about Emily. Ways that didn't involve making me look like an idiot to the rest of the team." you mumble crossly, and you blink enough that you feel like your lashes are crumpling into your cornea. it forces you to drag a hand over them roughly, rubbing harshly at your eyes until the sensation left.
"That wasn't what we were trying to do." JJ tries, and it doesn't really matter what exactly she was trying to do. What mattered was what had happened. "You know that." she adds, and you think she's trying to appeal to the part of you that knew the type of people she and Hotch were. The ones that had proven their loyalty to the team for years and years. "Is this about Hotch?" she says and you wince because the problem wasn't that simple.
And you didn't understand why everyone seemed to think so.
You weren't some girl that couldn't handle rejection, what bothered you the most was that Hotch and JJ had felt like they couldn't trust you, and it bothered you that Hotch had felt like he had to play along to some stupid fantasy to ensure you'd play your role. And it especially bothered you that you'd mourned your friend Emily and everything you thought you knew about her, and all anyone could focus on was the fact that you liked Hotch and he didn't like you back. As if your entire world stopped all because of it.
"No, it's not about Hotch." you deadpan. "I wish you guys would just stop being so casual about it." you add on as JJ's mouth parts.
"Y/N... it's not really something that you'd ever really been subtle about. Everyone knows." and she's still trying to be gentle, despite the fact that the words still managed to slice at you.
"So that makes what you guys did, okay?" you shoot back. "Is that really the hill you want to die on?" and you're growing crosser. "This isn't about not being liked back by a guy, this is about me believing that the people I spend most of my days with have my back. How are we supposed to be a team when I can't trust you?" you press. "Because you never would have done that to Spence." you add, and JJ blinks, mostly because she doesn't know how to counter that.
"You didn't have to do it to Derek or Rossi or Penelope either." you remind her. "So what was it about me, about this that made your only course of action rubbing salt in a wound that I was doing a damn good job of healing all on my own?"
"I-I don't know." she admits, and you suppose it was an answer.
"Yeah, well I don't know if I have the patience to wait around for you all to figure that out." you mumble.
"What are you saying?" and JJ's blinking a bit more, eyes misty but not quite showing any signs of shed tears.
"I'm saying that before I didn't know if I wanted to stay here anymore. I love my job, but I don't love how it makes me feel now." you say plainly. "When Elle got like that and ignored her gut it got someone shot." you say, and it sounds melodramatic, but it doesn't feel that way at all. JJ gasps, though it's faint. "I just don't want to wait around for that to happen to me." and you inhale sharply, shuddered breath wracking through you as JJ stares at you clearly gobsmacked.
"But-" and she can't quite grasp the words. "You can't just leave." she exclaims, and it sounds like she's pleading. "Look-" and she's starting to sound just a little desperate. "Look we never wanted to hurt you, okay? And-and none of us..." and she stops to make sure she's staring you directly in your eyes. "None of us want to lose you, Y/N." she insists. "I-" and she's shaking her head again. "Please don't do this." and she sounds the same way Spencer did when he said it. Your nose twitches, "We just got the team back together." she mutters.
"JJ, that's not fair." you huff at her, and she's not really trying to be fair. She just doesn't want you to leave.
"I'm so sorry that we hurt you." and while most apologies that start that way are usually rife with deceit, JJ sounds more sincere than she probably ever has before. "And I'm sorry if it feels a little flat, especially with you already having a foot out the door." she sighs, "It wasn't okay, but-but I know how Hotch feels about you. How the entire team feels about you." she reiterates. "We can't do this without you, we can't." she emphasizes sternly. "And maybe that's selfish to bring up, but we all care so much about you." she promises.
You want to cut her off, but she doesn't give you the chance.
Classic JJ.
"Do whatever you need to! Take as much time away as you need, hate us forever if you have to, but please don't- don't walk away from what you do here." she exhales shakily. "And-and for the record, whether it helps or not... we didn't sit around discussing your... feelings for Hotch." she tells you quietly. "It wasn't some master plan that we composed, and-and I don't know... it couldn't have all been fake." she whispers, and you wonder why she's changing her tune, because just last week she was telling you that 'it wasn't real'
"JJ-" you finally manage and she's shaking her head.
"I'm serious." she insists, and your nose crinkles up again.
"Stop." you deadpan. "You're being really mean." you huff, and you begin to click at your nails just slightly. JJ thinks you're a little bit exasperating. Too stubborn for your own good, but she wont push.
"Could you just listen for one second?" she exclaims, and you're pouting as she grows more overwhelmed at it all. "I wouldn't lie to you about this." she insists, and you wonder why she, and Spencer have taken this sort of stance with you. It should make you hopeful, right? Oh, there was some chance that Hotch felt the same way as you. Except you can't be happy about it, because he's not the one that was sitting here telling you this. It was JJ.
What had you told Spencer earlier? 'There's no way to misunderstand when it's spelled out for you, right', and emotionally exhausted or not, you meant it. Which meant you refused to do the work for him. If he couldn't say it, if he couldn't admit it, than it was as if it wasn't true at all. Which is why you exhale, blinking away whatever bleariness tried to keep itself latched to your eyes. "I love you for trying so hard, but I'd rather you didn't." you instruct sternly.
JJ inhales deeply, audibly expelling the breath from her nose. "That's what you're missing, Y/N." she begins, and she reaches out, hand cupping your shoulder. "I'm not trying to do anything. Everything I've said today I meant. You're important, and you're a lot to lose." she admits. "If you're going to leave, leave because you hate the job, do it because you don't feel fulfilled any longer. But don't let this be what makes you throw in the towel, Y/N." she says and you huff again.
You were doing a lot of that today. "We'll make up for it." she begins, and then she sighs. "I'll make up for it, however long it takes." and you think her pivot from sharing the blame to taking it all for herself makes you feel a little less like you were being ganged up on. She was no longer the spokesperson for everyone involved, and was back to just being JJ, your friend JJ. "Please?" she tries again, and it's not like her to beg, which tells you all you need to know about how serious she was.
"We should get back to work." you mumble, and it's not quite the answer she's expecting, but at the very least it was a promise that you both still had until the end of the day at the very least. She doesn't have the strength to fight her smile, arms looping around you in a move that's much too invasive for your still sour mood, but you don't slight her for it. You instead let her hug you, because obviously it meant a lot more to her than you knew. She'd missed you.
"Alright, alright. That's enough." you tease, moving to lightly push the blonde off of you as she exhales.
"Can you blame me? I thought you were gonna hate me forever." she admits honestly, and you crinkle your nose.
"Guess I'm softer than I thought." you reply, and she waves you off at the remark. Still, despite this slight turn in the direction of your relationship with JJ, you still couldn't feel all that settled. But, you know hiding out in the restroom was by no means the best choice. So when JJ moves to leave, you tail her, surprised when on the other side is a nearly pacing Reid.
"Spence?" JJ exclaims in surprise, the tawny haired man turns to you both. He's immediately looking past JJ to take you in. JJ follows hos gaze and whistles under her breath, deciding that her job was done. She offers you a hopeful sort of look before she continues on towards her desk, leaving you and Spencer mostly alone.
"Are you okay?" he asks, and you're subjectively alright, for the moment. You're better than you were, but not as good as you could be. You're not anywhere near where or who you were before, but you suppose after what the team endured there wasn't much that could be done about that last bit. "I'm so sorry." he's exclaiming, and of course, he means it. He always means it. "I didn't mean to-" and he doesn't really know how to articulate all his thoughts correctly.
He's good with words, knows facts and statistics and data, knows what runs through his mind when he thinks about you, and knows what he wants to say. It's when he opens his mouth that things go awry, because despite all his grand attempts, he always manages to screw up when it came to expressing the emotional side of things. His pep talks sometimes fell flat, and a lot of times he missed the mark when it came to cheering someone up. But, he'd never wanted to be a person who hurt you, so he needed to fix it.
Even if it ruined everything forever.
"I wasn't trying to insinuate that you'd-" and he motions between the both of you. "I don't think that you see me as a rebound." he finally vocalizes. "That would mean you'd have to see me in a potentially romantic way." Spencer's voice is as steady as it often was when he was giving a geographical profile or helping to relay some form of fact or evidence during a case. Which said a lot about his intentions, and how serious he was about you not misunderstanding him.
"I was merely trying to note that a lot of times in circumstances where we're faced rejection from someone we hold to a high regard, it's really easy to misinterpret our own feelings and latch onto people before we really mean to." he expresses, and your chewing on the inside of your cheek, albeit subtly. "For example, because you've established me as someone who you can trust during this time, it'd be really easy for you to misinterpret what you think you feel for me." he says, and your eyebrows furrow inwardly.
"How could I possibly do that? They're my own feelings." you retort.
"Because, the first thing people do after a breakup, is they seek validation, or a new way to boost their esteem and self worth." he doesn't quite lecture, but it's clear he's intent on your knowing all of this. "And that doesn't necessarily mean that you're vying for me as a potential person to bounce back with, but a lot of times when you don't process the end of a previous emotional bond, your view of the entire new dynamic can be warped." he proceeds, and you're still not really understanding his point, instead you're feeling more silly.
"What are you saying, Spencer?" you question quietly.
"All I'm trying to explain is that I don't want you to tell me that you want to go out and listen to me promenade facts unless it's what you really want to do." he says, "I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to play along, because you think we're in the same boat... where we- we love someone that we can't have?" he presses, and he winces once it's out, you think you may have started holding your breath. "Does that make sense to you?"
You nod your head limply, and you take in his words. You find that your little hunch about your dear Spencer was correct. You also note that it doesn't quite scare you the way you'd initially believed it would. "Spence, I wouldn't do that to you." you remind him, and he nods too.
"I know that." he promises. "At least not consciously, but our minds can play tricks on us. You could think that this is what's best, moving on... forgetting about- about everything that happened." he presses, and your lips form into a thin line. "And then wake up in three weeks and remember why you fell in love with Hotch to begin with."
"Or-" and his eyes widen.
"Or?"
"Or...I could choose to stop waiting around for someone to not be afraid to love me." you counter. "I could- I could choose to hang out with my friend, Spencer and be okay with whatever happens after that. I could- We could do that. And it could be okay." you purse your lips. "Because, it's what I want to do. Nobody's entitled to my feelings but me, and you know what that means, Spencer? It means that if you think that you might love me, you need to be okay with that." he looks a bit startled that you're saying it so bluntly, but stays quiet.
"And you need to know that sometimes your statistics are gonna be wrong, and sometimes the guy that's too scared to admit how they feel doesn't get the girl." it's a shock, you can't say that you've fallen out of love in a day, you can't say that you've fallen in love in a day. But you do know that Spencer Reid managed to invoke a hope inside of you that you hadn't managed to feel in a long time. He made you girlishly giddy, and you liked talking to him, you liked listening to him, you liked the way it felt when you'd made plans together.
And maybe there was no such thing as a happily ever after where everyone gets who they want, maybe in three weeks you would wake up and find that you and Spencer were better off as friends, but you weren't going to hold up your life in the hopes that maybe someday Aaron Hotchner would wake up and decide he was finally ready to love you out loud. Not when there was a chance to take your own life, your own emotions by the balls and do with them what you wanted.
"He doesn't?" Spencer asks, and you're not quite sure you can place what emotions are resting on his face and in his eyes.
"We can find out." you offer, and it's not some heady and heavy declaration of unyielding devotion, but wasn't that sort of how every relationship started? With some decision to take a chance. Maybe, you didn't really know. "There's this music store I've been dying to check out." you say, and for the second time that day Spencer seems to brighten right in front of your eyes. "It's sort of right on the strip, if you don't mind going with me... there's a lot we could do…" and the small change is almost everything. It's scary, causes a pit in your gut.
Still, it's a nicer feeling than uncertainty and the hollowness left behind by idleness. "Are you in?" you ask, and Spencer is already nodding his head, smile reaching his eyes as his pretty teeth reveal themselves to you, eyes twinkling in a way that's very very beautiful.
"Yes." he agrees with a simple nod. "I would-" and you think it's cute the way his smile refuses to leave, and sweet the way he's suddenly grown nervous all over again. "I'd like that-" and his voice cracks, and earns him a laugh, your own demeanor seeming to change as your excitement starts to brew in the depths of your chest.
"Good." you beam.
"Good." he repeats, and there's a small moment, a flicker where you're certain you both look nervous, frightful of what came next. But it only lasts a second, because you're both suddenly being called by Derek, a resounding 'Pretty Boy, Pretty Girl' forcing you out of your bubble and back into the fray. With another shared smile you find yourselves in step, making your way back towards the heart of the bullpen where the rest of the team is huddled. It's rare when work is so light, but you know as well as everyone else, you'll all take advantage of it.
When Penelope smiles at you, you smile back, and it's real.
When JJ plants herself on top of your desk, the two of you actually laugh, spilling secrets and trading gossip like nothing's ever changed.
When Rossi calls you Piccola, you relax even more into the familiarity of being surrounded by your teammates.
When Derek slings an arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss to the top of your head, you remember why you loved your job.
When Emily calls your name and waves you and JJ over to the group, you oblige, meeting Emily's eyes with no mirth left behind. When she calls you by your nickname, you feel that familiar swarm of familial adoration filling your chest, and recognize that things with her would be okay. You find that in the grand scheme she is still your Emily.
When you find yourself standing next to your boss, his usually stern and stoic persona shed in the presence of the team he considered family, you hardly bat an eye. When he smiles at a joke you make, you're pleased, but the anxiety, the panic that tormented you is all gone. The butterflies are too, replaced with the respect you remember.
And when you find yourself looking across the circle and meet the pretty brown eyes of one Spencer Reid, you feel it when your heart tremors, just a little bit.
And you think, in the end, you made the right decision.
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ᴊᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴛᴏᴅᴅ—ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ
—You know what this is. For my fellow Jason Todd lovers, this is for you.
✯A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)
This man can either be rough or soft. But most of the time, he is rough. But he also loves taking care of you. After sex, he'd run a bath for you or give you a well-deserved massage while whispering something along the lines of, "You did so good, love."
✯B = Body part (His favorite body part of yours)
He is a total thigh man. He loves your thighs. Jason loves seeing you wear short shorts that show off your thighs. He also loves it when you sit down and your thighs quadruple in size. It always gets him in the mood.
✯C = Consent (He's a gentleman)
He will NEVER do anything to you without asking first. Jason would hate to see you hurt, especially if he hurt you. He couldn't live with himself if he were the one that hurt you.
✯D = Dirty secret (Very obvious)
Whenever you're out or not around, he'll raid your closet and masturbate using a piece of your clothing. (He is a major horndog)
✯E = Experience (How experienced is he?)
He's had a few flings and hookups before he died. He's experimented with a few things. (Toys etc..) He's a very experienced person. Jason's a quick learner when it comes to you as well. He knows what you feel uncomfortable and comfortable with.
He's occasionally asked Dick or Bruce for advice as well. (Bruce would probably avoid the question and say he needs to go on patrol or something. But Dick would definitely answer and questions from Jason.)
✯F = Favorite position
Missionary. He loves seeing you squirm and moan beneath him while he fucks you until you can't walk straight. And if he's in an extra special mood (jealous/angry) his hands suddenly find their way to your neck, giving you a rough squeeze and ramming into you like it's his last day on earth.
✯G = Goofy (Is Jason more serious or just goofy?)
It depends on Jason's mood. Sometimes he'll make jokes and tease you. But mostly, he's serious and into the moment. And when he's angry or frustrated, he always feels better when he hears you scream his name and moan.
✯H = Hair (Does the carpet match the drapes?)
Jason keeps himself neat. He occasionally has a bit of facial stubble. And he may or may not have a bush down there. But if you want him to shave, he will. He's good like that.
✯I = Intimacy (How is he during the moment? Romantic aspect)
I feel like Jason would get a bit uncomfortable when he feels vulnerable. But during sex, he's definitely more rough and does his best to ask how you are.
Jason struggles with showing his emotions and expressing his feelings, but it's something he's working on.
But when you're not having sex, he knows you. Jason is great at reading your feelings. He knows what you want and don't want. He will always want to make you happy and remind you that you're loved.
✯J = Jacking off
(Mentioned in dirty secrets) He really only does it when you're not around. Most of the time, you are the number one thing on Jason's mind, causing him to get hard and have to do something about it.
✯K = Kinks
Size kink - He has a major size kink. He's around 6 feet and he loves the feeling of being bigger than you. He loves towering over you and randomly picking you up, feeling your figure against his chest.
Choking - After he was thrown into the lazarus pit, his grew. A lot. He became stronger as well. He loves the feeling of having control over you. The way you squirm under his grasp makes him feel powerful.
Orgasm denial - He loves to see you beg. Jason wants you begging for even the slightest bit of release. It makes him
✯L = Location (Fav place)
He isn't picky. He will bend you over a sink at your local Arby's if it meant he could fuck you. But Jason loves fucking you in the shower. Him seeing you squirming and moaning under him as he fucks you in a tight secluded space does something to him in so many ways.
✯ M = Motivation (What turns him on)
Jealousy. He absolutely hates it when you talk to other men. He's very possessive over you. The idea of you even taking a small liking to ANYONE pisses him off.
Arguing/bickering. This man loves chaos. It's his natural home. And whenever you two fight, it gets him hard. And that leads to angry makeup sex.
✯N = No (Turns offs)
Gun/knife play - NEVER. He would hate to put you under that kind of thing. Jason would never dream of hurting you. And he grew up in one of Gotham's crime alleys. He knows all the disgusting things that happen.
Threesomes are a no. He hates sharing, especially when it comes to you. The slightest thought of it angers him. He also does not want anyone else to look at you.
✯O = Oral (Preferences in giving receiving, skill, etc..)
This man knows how to eat pussy. He'd eat you out like it's his last meal. He's good at it. He knows what makes you scream. But Jason also doesn't mind being given head. He teases you, calling you a "good girl" and he praises you when you swallow his come.
✯P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and gentle?)
It'd depend on his mode really. But he likes to fuck you hard, but he knows how much you can take. He'll definitely hold your hand. And later on, he'll run you a bath and take care of you.
✯Q = Quickie (his opinion, how often etc..)
He'll never say no to a quickie if you two are down bad. But Jason prefers to take his time with you. He wants you screaming and begging for release. He just loves to tease and make fun of you.
✯R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He's not much of a risk-taker. (He def can't be an entrepreneur.) If you want him to try something new, you'd have to beg. And it would take a long time for him to actually warm up to it. He'd be okay to use restraints if it's okay with you. But he would never put himself in a submissive position.
✯S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go? how long?)
It would depend on his mood, really. He could definitely go for a round or two if it's just casual sex. But if he's angry or jealous? You will not be able to walk for a few days minimum.
✯T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them? do they use them on their partner?)
Jason would NEVER use them on himself. He hates feeling submissive and losing control. But on you? Definitely. I feel like he would definitely use handcuffs on you just to stop you from moving your hands so much when he's devouring your cunt.
✯U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Jason motherfucking Todd is the biggest tease ever. He will touch you everywhere but where you want him too. He wants you begging for him. Jason wants you screaming his name, begging him to touch you where you want him too.
✯V = Volume (how loud they are, etc...)
Jason isn't really loud. You'll hear an occasional grunt or low moan coming from him. But he will definitely pull your hair and give you an occasional reminder that HE is the one pounding into you.
✯W = Wild card (random headcanon for character)
Jason wants to dominate you. Period.
✯X = X-ray (what's happening under those clothes?)
his cock is def 8-9 inches. no explanation needed.
✯Y = Yearning (sex drive)
Jason definitely has a high sex drive. He would definitely fuck you all day.
✯Z = Zzz (sleep)
He doesn't fall asleep until you do. He wants to make you feel comfortable and protected. He's a gentleman (most of the time) frr.
»»————<3———-««
im def going back into my jason todd phase. maybe i'll do one for dick and bruce. <3
anyway this took so long to write and im tired. VERY TIRED. maybe jason can tuck me into bed and give me a kiss?
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47 and 69 please for the mash-up game :) ship is up to you!!
questioning orders
flirting under fire + not a date - landoscar
apologies for this taking so long! hope u like it:)
“Would you consider this a date?”
A glass smashes somewhere in the house, and Oscar tucks behind the pillar. He slides against it as far as he can allow, without taking a step. Head down, aerodynamic.
“No.” He calls out, then skids on his knees to the opposite pillar, tucks behind it, clutches the pistol that’s half tucked in his boot. A flurry of steps, and Norris is in the same room he is, always a good listener.
“Nothing about this is romantic.”
Norris stands up straight from where he’s peering at the other pillar, and if he were a dog his ears would be right up, listening, waiting.
“No? I find it very romantic. The chase, not the killing part.”
Of course he would, because he’s a fucking weirdo. That wasn’t on the character profile, but you can sense a vibe. You’re not meant to sense a vibe, Mark tells him, you’re meant to just carry out what’s being asked of you.
“Although I could be convinced on the latter.”
Yeah. It’s only human to sense a vibe.
Norris taps his foot as if he’s late for something, like Oscar’s avoidance of dying is holding him up.
“This isn’t fair. Let’s do this cowboy style.” Oscar takes a run for it as Norris is distracted with his dramatics, flinging himself down the hallway and into the adjacent room. He thinks he hears a mumbled ‘fuck,’ but he couldn’t be too sure.
In here, there’s nowhere to duck under that doesn’t seem like a child’s game of hide and seek. He swings the AR-15 from where it’s strapped on his back, ready to aim. Norris doesn’t come in.
Oscar, at present, has his finger on the trigger while desperately trying to think of a comeback to ‘cowboy style.’ Most of the ones he comes up with fall flat. That’s what they say, about Lando Norris. He’s quick with his words and far too skilled with a blade.
Don’t bring a knife to a gun fight and yet, it still feels like Norris has the upper hand.
He shouldn’t let himself be intimated by words, all Norris’ barking and no biting. But ‘cowboy style’ has truly stumped him. He suppresses a smile with the phrase repeating in his head, adjusts his position, and moves slowly towards the doorframe.
He settles for, “Let’s make this quick.”
Oscar means it. They’ve been running around the ‘safe’ house for what seems like hours. In reality, it’s probably only twenty minutes, but the moments of held breath under coffee tables and behind curtains really slows things down.
His marks aren’t usually like this - evasive, witty. A pain in the arse. But then, they aren’t often trying to kill Oscar too.
There’s a sound of clattering and another mumble from over on the right side. He turns his attention to that side, but then something hits between his shoulder blades, and now he’s on the floor with a thump that’s going to bruise his forearms.
“Hah.”
God, he’s annoying. Oscar’s kicking and fighting but Norris has an elbow down on his back, and is keeping Oscar’s legs apart by putting the pressure of his own knees on the crease between his ass and thigh. It’s slightly painful, even through the body armour.
He’s aggressively aware of the rifle against his chest, but knows not trigger it with a bump or anything stupid like that. He rolls his shoulder, must hit Norris in the face where he’s trying to keep him still, and so he manages to roll over while Lando winces for just a moment, before pinning him back, face upward.
“Ow, you prick.”
Oscar could laugh. His rifle is knocked to the side now but Norris doesn’t carry a gun, famously so. It’s the knives he’s got that are stressing him out, now. Don’t bring a fist to a knife fight, maybe?
Lando strips a blade from its sheath at his side, tips it under Oscar’s chin. The steel is clean and cold. “Shame, really. We worked well together.”
Miami. It’s all hushed up, all secrets that are redacted on official files in thick black boxes. Whenever Oscar tries to recall it, he only finds his head swimming with memories of blood, all over the getaway car’s creamy leather seats.
For a while, so many at the firm thought Lando was dead. Oscar wasn’t one of them.
Alas, alive, Lando’s got his knees around Oscar’s waist, and would be straddling him if he lowered his hips. There’s no way Oscar can move without the tip of the knife going straight through his chin and into his mouth. Blood on his tongue.
Read file. Norris is a fireball, a quick-eyed agent, a terrible enemy.
Terrible in the way that he’s clever, always knows what to say and do. The firm has been trying to pin him down for years, mostly for the secrets that they know he knows. Lando Norris, primary agent, most trusted.
Now, they don’t give anyone that title.
“Do you miss it?” Oscar asks, because he can, breathing shallowly as Lando leers over him.
Lando’s curls are tipped forwards on his head, looking down at Oscar. His tanned face has lashes of scars at the edge of his face, tinted pink where the skin hasn’t crawled back over properly. He looks older and younger all at once, blinking in the low light.
He just shrugs in response, knife staying perfectly still. “You were a good partner, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I’m not.”
“You should.”
Lando’s eyes are wide, hazel with flecks of green and blue, like twinkling stars in blackened nights. Oscar breathes slowly.
There was always something about him, about them together. Something unspoken in the dead of night, as they stayed on lookout in the darker parts of cities. Fingertips almost touching one another, the shiver of the other’s hand when one pulls away to flick the CCTV angles.
But here, Lando’s got a knife resting next to his jaw, and scars covering his face, and a trickle of blood from where he’s nicked himself on the side of a table, probably. It’s a world away from what they knew.
Oscar works solo now, has done since that night in Miami. He swallows thickly.
“Do you miss me?”
A beat. Before Oscar can read his expression, Lando dips his head and meets Oscar’s mouth with his own, lips as gentle as the first time.
This could be the moment Oscar utilises. He can practically hear Mark shouting, do it, reach for it, kill him. Finish him off, finally. He should do it, go for the kill, get this over with so he can go home and be at peace.
Bu, Oscar can’t find it in himself , as he pushes his head upwards to deepen the kiss, to let Lando’s tongue lick into his mouth, hot and slick and desperate. It’s urgent, the fervour with which Lando’s pressing into him, like one taste isn’t enough. Like they’ve both been waiting centuries for it.
His hands find Lando’s arms and he jolts back, suddenly, clutching for the knife that he’d flung to the floor. He’s pinned again, Lando’s vice-like grip and sharp knees.
“No, no, I’m not- it’s fine,” Oscar pants breathlessly. Lando looks so beautiful above him, something devilishly holy, his lips wet and red. There’s fear laced in every inch of his tanned skin.
“I’m not going to do that.”
Lando blinks again, this time with concern. “Why not? I’m your target.”
Oscar snorts, remembers the rusted inscription he read in his Miami hotel room, as he sat covered in blood with a pounding headache, alone for the first time in years. The knife was resting on his side of the room, his twin bed, where the other was desolately empty. A skeleton of a life between them.
Oscar, famously, never carried a knife. They were always two halves, the gunman and the blade.
When he’d picked it up, it was cold and silver and ergonomic to a hand that wasn’t his.
“Everything’s changed,” he repeats, the words he’s managed to keep for himself despite the interrogation. The mantra.
Lando’s eyes widen with recognition. On his upper arm, Lando’s hand grips tight, then releases, knowing.
The flood of regret never comes. They’ll figure it out, the firm. He has a feeling Mark knew all along, indulged in his game of pretending it was for the honour, for the agency.
It’s only ever been for Lando Norris.
“Should we get an Uber, then?” he says with a grin, and Oscar could kiss him all over again.
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