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skiller0dani · 3 years

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Broken Paradise | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut requests info wc | 9.1k summary | you run into an ex boyfriend during an interrogation. except it's you being interrogated, and it's your ex boyfriend doing the interrogating.

song

another draft just waiting to be published. really obsessing over Spencer Reid.

also there's mentions of abortion, nothing graphic it's literally just a short direct reference and nothing else.

You always hear people say your past will come back to haunt you, you just didn't know they meant literally. You leaned back against the metal chair in the interrogation room, you've been in here for what felt like hours. You couldn't complain too much seeing as it's your fault that you're in here at all. You wished they'd come in and tell you something, give you an update, say hi, say anything. You seriously underestimated how maddening silence can be. You knew little about the murders the police were investigating, something about druggie women being found mutilated. The pictures they showed you were downright horrifying, you'd need at least one solid bottle of tequila to forget the bodies of those poor women.

The Las Vegas Police Department were a bunch of judgmental pigs, the only reason they'd brought you here at all was because you were from the wrong side of the tracks. Both of your parents were users, and if you were lucky, also dead. They probably assumed you used as well, and seeing as you seemed to fit the killers physical preference the police brought you in for questioning and also for your own "safety". But really you knew they didn't give a damn about your safety, they just wanted to know where you got your shit from. No matter how many times you insisted you didn't use, they kept pushing. When one male officer started throwing your parents in your face, you stood up and promptly broke his nose. That's how you landed yourself cuffed to the table, tightly.

"Oh thank you so much for gracing me with your presence once more." You smiled sarcastically as another officer walked in, wait he's definitely not an officer. The man who entered the room had cleanly cut dark hair, and wore an expensive looking black suit. Not the run of the mill beat cop that you were expecting. You bit back any other fiery remarks, if you wanted to get the hell out of here you needed to cooperate. Diana would be expecting you, not that you were itching to see her but after letter number 75 of her begging you to swing by- well lets just say that Spencer's mother was never the problem. You doubt Spencer even knew Diana was contacting you, which was good. You wanted nothing at all to do with him.

"I'm Agent Hotchner here with the FBI I need to ask you a few questions." This man was all business, you seriously had to fight the urge to fuck with him a little bit.

"I'd shake your hand but..." Your eyes flickered towards the table, where the police officer who's nose you broke had very tightly handcuffed you. In fact he cuffed you so tightly that your wrists were already raw and bleeding a bit.

"They wouldn't have handcuffed you if you didn't punch an officer. Did he hit a nerve?" The Agent's face was level, and gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. You tongued the inside of your cheek, your foot tapping quickly on the concrete floor. These assholes were really starting to piss you off.

"He was being a dick, how many times do I have to tell you guys that I don't use? Are your heads filled with sawdust?" You snapped roughly, yanking away from him to lean back in your chair despite the biting pain in your wrists.

"That's not why I'm here Miss Y/L/N." Agent Hotchner said, his voice even and his eyes on you. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he could read all of your secrets because of the way your eye twitches when you're nervous. You hate these damn FBI profilers- wait.

"How's Spencer?" It's a shot in the dark, a very long shot in a very dark tunnel. Before the scumbag left you without warning, Spencer mentioned that someone was trying to recruit him for the BAU department of the FBI. The profilers. Spencer left and never came back, two guesses as to where he went. Your eyes locked onto the Agent's in front of you, and from the slight upturn at the corner of his brow you knew you got him. Spencer is here.

"You know Dr. Reid?"

"So he's a Doctor now, doesn't surprise me. Let me guess, he has PHD's and Doctorates in Math, Chemistry and something to do with Geography right?" You say as casually as you can and you can only hope this man is wondering how you happen to know so much about one of his Agents.

"Unless I'm speaking to Spencer Reid, I want my lawyer." You snap, leaning back. You know Spencer won't talk to you, and unless they have physical proof you're guilty of something they'll have to let you go.

Check mate.

Spencer couldn't ignore the questioning glances from his fellow teammates even if he'd wanted to. He watched you lean back in your chair from the other side of the one way glass, what are the chances that you are wrapped up in this case? You of all young petite blonde women in the metro area. The world was fucking with him, it had to be.

"She a friend of yours?" Derek's voice was the first to cut through the silence.

"No." One word answers were the safest route, the shortest diction would give little time for them to draw information out of the way Spencer was speaking. There was a tremble in his tone, he knew there was. Spencer prided himself for having little to no baggage behind him, but of all unopened suitcases- his previous relationship with you was the largest one.

"Really? Cause she seems to know a lot about you." Derek said, his eyes fixed on Spencer. The tension in the room was palpable, and suddenly it felt hard for Spencer to breathe let alone compose himself. After shoving free from the small viewing room, Spencer found it a lot easier to exist without the scrutinizing gazes of his coworkers.

"You hear her?" It was Hotch, with a patiently guarded expression on his face. Spencer and drugs wasn't an uncommon problem, although in the past his poison of choice was dilaudid. Now there's a string of drug related murders and a possible junky who seems to know a lot about him.

"Yeah, from before the Bureau." Spencer clarified quickly, and Hotch honestly looked the tiniest bit relieved.

"Think you could talk to her, she's made it obvious she won't talk to any of us." Hotch said, and from the tension building in Spencer's shoulders he can tell there's some bad blood between the two of you. Spencer took a deep breath before taking all of those unresolved emotions and forcefully shoving them down. Deep, deep down. It's time to do a job, there's a missing woman who needs to be saved.

When that door opened again, you thought you'd won. You thought they were coming to begrudgingly release you. Instead you were met by the big doey eyes of Spencer Reid, your first and last love. All the air was stolen from your lungs in an instant, the memories flood back and you can't stop them. The anger rises then, this is the first time you've seen him since he left you. The one person you trusted not to leave you did, he left like everyone leaves you. Like your parents left you. He's very clearly all business, his face hardly giving anything away as he swiftly reached down to unlock the handcuffs around your wrists. If you wanted to walk away from this without your heart getting broken you needed the upper hand.

"Heya baby." You smiled, you hoped that maybe it would disarm him. At least a little, but when you looked at him all you saw was a stoic and focused expression. Nothing? Really?

"I need to ask you a few questions Miss Y/L/N." Spencer's voice was controlled, even in tone. His voice... God his voice could bring you right to tears. You could still hear him saying how much he loved you with that stupidly angelic voice of his. Spencer was very quickly taking control of the situation and you did not like that at all.

"You know you can ask me anything, there's no secrets between us right Spence?" You leaned forward on your elbows, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in your wrists. One of Spencer's biggest giveaways is eye contact, when he's upset or feels guilty he'll avoid looking into your eyes. You turn your gaze up to meet his, but once again you're completely disarmed to see him unabashedly looking into your eyes like it isn't a problem at all. Either Spencer has amnesia and forgot who you were, or what happened between you two doesn't hurt him like it hurts you. You refuse to believe it's the latter, he just forgot. Definitely forgot. Somehow he must have forgot.

"Nina Fredricks, have you ever seen her?" He slid a photo in front of you, you recognize her as the woman who was most recently kidnapped. Most recently being 12 hours ago so chances of her still being alive are unfortunately slim. You nibble on your lower lip, come to think of it you actually might have seen her.

"Yeah, saw her at Winchell's, little coffee shop on the corner of 5th? You remember right Spence? You used take me there all the time, I loved giving you head under the table." You smirk, but it quickly falters. Whatever training he went through must have stripped him of all emotion and turned him into a machine. Built only to solve cases and do nothing else. That wasn't the case however, you just didn't know how good Spencer is at compartmentalizing his emotions. He could only imagine the looks on his coworkers faces upon hearing you say that, at least he can just say you were lying to try and illicit some sort of reaction from him. They don't have to know that you totally used to slip under the table and swallow his cock in a diner full of people. They don't know about that side of him, and Spencer doesn't plan on changing that.

"When?" He presses on with the interview, and surprisingly you're forthcoming with information when you're speaking to Spencer. Even after all this time, he has this annoying power over you. This innate ability to get you to do whatever he wants you to, although you would prefer him to use this special ability in the bedroom. No! No you have to eradicate thoughts like that, Spencer hurt you worse then anyone else ever has. He hurt you worse because he made you think he was going to stay, and then he didn't.

"Few nights ago, she looked really messed up though. Winchell threw her out, definitely doped up on something. Before you ask, no I didn't see where she went." You sigh, finally giving up flashing Spencer the all too familiar 'you win' look. Usually a victorious grin stretches across his face, but not this time. Those times are over.

"Did you see anybody with her?" You're not entirely surprised that Spencer isn't writing any of this down, that stupid eidetic memory. You're fooling yourself if you think he forgot what happened, Spencer never forgets anything. Ever.

"Every detail matters."

You genuinely try to remember if anybody was with Nina, and while you didn't see anyone you remember shortly after she left the diner there was this horrible screeching sound. "After Nina left I heard what sounded like tires screeching on the street. Never saw a car though."

"Thank you Miss Y/L/N, is there anything else you can remember about that night? Anything that sticks out?" After a few moments of quiet contemplation, you shake your head.

"Am I free to go?" You ask quietly and Spencer shakes his head.

"Unfortunately we're going to have to keep you in protective custody. We'll move you to a more comfortable room, but you'll need to stay in the precinct."

"But why? I'm not a drug addict-"

"You are exactly this killers type, and we don't know if looking a certain way is more important or if being a drug addict is when it comes to him choosing his victims." Spencer explains simply, his mouth moving a mile a minute as he stands. When he turns his eyes back on you, you realize he's waiting for you to follow him. You stand and follow him out of the cold interrogation room to a comfier waiting room. It has a table and chairs, vending machine and a big plush couch.

"You can stay in here, we'll let you know when it's safe to go home." Spencer says, and this is when you finally catch the crack in his façade. His eyes flicker away from yours, trying to disguise the waver in his voice, the desperation to vacate the room as quickly as he can. But now that you've seen him break, even a little, you're going to crack him wide open. You won't let it go that easily.

"Spencer?" Your voice is soft, with an innocent drawl that Spencer can't resist. He turns his head to look at you, swallowing thickly when his eyes meet yours.

"You do remember me don't you? Once upon a time we were in love." You see the rest of his coworkers trying and failing to look like they're not listening. But it's not like you care if they do, Spencer will though but luckily his back is to the door. After a few moments of tense silence, he finally speaks.

"Of course." It's not the answer you were hoping for but it's an admission, which is more then you were getting earlier.

"Do you miss me Spencer? Miss me in bed next to you?"

"W-Well I-"

"Do you miss when I used to cook your favorite dinner every night when you came over? Do you miss how I loved you unconditionally?" Your voice was steadily growing more hostile, and you knew there were tears building in your eyes. This has all been building up for so long you know you can't stop it now.

"Y/N-"

"Do you miss being able to fuck me whenever the hell you want? Is that what you miss the most Spencer? You must not miss me that much because when you left I didn't even get a fucking call! You didn't even say goodbye, you just left!" You were yelling now, with tears streaming down your face. Spencer had slyly shut the door by now, he knew this was going to happen the second he saw you. He wished he could help you understand why he had to leave the way he did. He was trying to protect you, and he still firmly believes he's protecting you. Look what happened to Haley, what happened to Maeve. Spencer loved Maeve and he lost her like Hotch lost Haley, and Spencer can't lose you. Not you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to you.

"Please try to understand-" You never even let him get close to finishing his thought.

"Understand what? Leaving me? You said you loved me! How could you love me and then leave me alone? While I was pregnant!" Your hands flew to your mouth, you honestly never planned on telling him that. Spencer's eyebrows rose high in the air, and you can tell you just knocked the wind out of him. Spencer's hand reached back for the door handle, "pregnant?"

"Spencer I'm sorry I didn't mean to tell you that way." You tried to explain, and despite the fact that he'd abandoned you, you were dead terrified of him leaving again now that he was stood in front of you.

"Do I have a child you never told me about?" His voice is shaky, afraid. Now you can see all his coworkers heavily invested in your conversation.

"N-No, I...I got rid of it." You said softly, watching the mix of emotions swirl across his face. When his trembling palm curls around the door handle you launch forward to grab at his arm.

"I'm sorry, please don't leave. Not again-" But he's pulling his arm free from yours and turning out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind him.

Spencer ignored the questions, he ignored the looks. His legs gave out somewhere near one of the couches. He stared ahead numbly, trying to make sense of what you'd just told him. Trying to somehow wrap his head around the terror of you being pregnant and then the grief of the lost possibility all at the same time. By now, JJ and Rossi had shooed everyone away from Spencer. Which he was immensely grateful for, the only thing he wanted now was to be alone. Completely and entirely alone.

Pregnant.

The word kept replaying like a scratched record, screeching in his ears every time he closed his eyes. Spencer pressed the balls of his palms into his eyes when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching him. Whoever it was, he already wished they would go away.

"Damn Kid, I didn't expect you to date such a spitfire." Derek joked as he sat down, doing what he can to ease the tension. Spencer didn't even bother looking up at him, his head stubbornly lowered and his gaze locked on the ground. Derek racked his brain for something adequate to say, but what was there to say? How could Derek find a way to make this right? Spencer just found out you were pregnant with his child and that you'd got an abortion all in the same 10 seconds. It was a lot to process.

"You gotta talk to her Spence." Derek's voice was less humorous this time. Spencer wrung his hands nervously, his eyes finally lifting to meet Derek's. A sharp shake of his head and a flash of the tears in his eyes and Spencer stands, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. Time to get back to work. Someone has to talk to you, Derek can't stand of someone crying by themselves like that.

"It's not really my place-" JJ tried to argue as Derek stood in front of her.

"Someone needs to talk to her, and Spencer isn't going to." Derek said, rubbing a hand down his face as his eyes flickered back to Spencer. Who was currently throwing himself headfirst into the geographic profile of the killer they're looking for, because maybe if he works hard enough the rest of the entire world will just disappear. Maybe if Spencer keeps working and does nothing else you'll just vanish from that room and he won't have to deal with this. It's not that Spencer wants you to go away, the opposite actually but there isn't room in his life for you anymore. It's not safe. Spencer would rather be alone for the rest of his life then put you in danger because he's lonely and misses you.

"Alright, fine. But only for Spence." JJ says, jabbing a finger in Derek's direction before reluctantly heading towards the room you're in. She glances back at Spencer, who has become consumed by the map in front of him. JJ can always tell when something is bothering him, he has physical giveaways. The way his shoulders are rigid as he scribbles something on the whiteboard, the furrow in his brow that lets her know that while he's working on something, his mind is elsewhere. The tremble in his palm from trying so hard to hold everything back, everything he doesn't want anyone else to see. To someone that doesn't know Spencer, he looks perfectly composed, his attention and focus completely on his work. JJ knows him well enough to know that his mind, and heart are sitting tattered in this waiting room on the couch next to you.

JJ creaks the door open, flashing you a smile that makes you absolutely hate her guts. Spencer probably has some puppy love crush on her, she's beautiful. Long blonde hair, slender body, stunning smile. Everything you're not.

"Hi I'm Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ." The way she's looking at you lets you know that she came in here to try and understand. You're not in the mood to talk to her or anybody else in this stupid building except for Spencer. You want to hate him so bad but you can't. You can't because of how much you fucking love him. The bastard.

"Look I know you're probably not all that excited to talk to me-"

"I want Spencer." You snap, and by the look on her face you can tell she isn't surprised that you said that. JJ chewed on the inside of her cheek, how does she say that Spencer doesn't actually want to talk to you?

"Dr. Reid is needed elsewhere right now, but I'm willing to talk if you need to."

"You don't have to lie Agent Jareau. I know he doesn't want to see me, he's doing that thing where he pretends to work on something while secretly obsessing over something else." You say casually, and the fact that you can pick Spencer apart so easily is somewhat off-putting to JJ. But that could be her unrequited crush on him shining through, deep down JJ doesn't like that some other woman knows Spencer better then she does. While you'd love to sit here and wallow in your misery, a much worse idea strikes you then. If you can't talk to Spencer why not fuck with the woman who's clearly in love with him.

"And the little twitch in his fingers, the slight clench in his jaw. See that? He keeps rolling his shoulders back," while everything you were saying isn't a lie- it's guaranteed to annoy her. JJ stayed quiet, she hated that she didn't know what the goddamn twitch in his fingers meant.

"He's tense, but there's more. He can't stand still, keeps shifting from foot to foot. It's driving you crazy that you don't know why he's doing that." You laugh as her annoyed eyes flash to yours for a second before settling on Spencer again.

"You're a profiler, you can't figure it out? That doesn't surprise me, you've probably never considered the fact that Spencer has an unusually high sex drive." Your words completely stun her, and JJ's cheeks flush profusely.

"It means he's horny." You say casually, leaning back against the couch. You love the blush on her cheeks, and the fact that she's clearly biting her tongue to avoid saying something rude. You love that you got under her skin, and yes you're aware that you're a bad person. Now that you've said it, JJ can't get it out of her damn head. Spencer is horny. Spencer isn't a virgin. The thought of Spencer having sex makes JJ feel a sick turning in her gut. She was happy believing Spencer was a virgin, believing that nobody has gotten to experience that side of him yet. Happy to believe that he was untouched, but apparently that was not the case. Now that the illusion has been shattered, JJ feels as though the jagged pieces of it are cutting into her, and she knows you enjoy watching her bleed.

"Trust me, I know just what to do to relieve the tension, I know how to get him off quick. Do you?" You smile as you let your eyes shamelessly drag down his slender frame.

"You're only saying this because you want to control the conversation, and you hate that I see him everyday. That I can talk to him whenever I want, about whatever I want. You wouldn't lash out if you didn't feel intimidated." JJ says calmly, rendering you just as speechless as she was moments ago. The pain that was sent stabbing into your heart caused you to recoil back from JJ, trying to hide your misty eyes from hers. You can't let her know that she's winning.

"Look, we can both get nasty all we want but that's not why I'm here. I just want to help." JJ says sincerely, but you still don't budge. JJ taps her fingers against the wood of the table, thinking about leverage she can use to get you to talk to her.

"Spencer fell in love again." JJ says finally, and this time you turn your gaze up to look at her. You push your emotions down, no matter how much it hurts to hear her say that. Who is she? Are they still together?

"If you want to know more about her, then I suggest you talk to me. An answer for an answer, fair?" You can see her trying to bait you, and damn her because it's working.

"Fine." You grumble, leaning back fully against the couch. Your eyes catch Spencer's for a second when he turns to face the table, presumably looking for a map you remember being on the right side. You point to the right side of the table and Spencer looks nothing but annoyed when he follows your direction and finds what he's looking for. He hates that he functions better as a person when you're around.

"What's the deal with you and Spence?" JJ asks, and there is a lot to unpack with that question.

"Gonna have to be more specific." You say with a shrug, your eyes hesitantly meeting hers.

"How long were you two together?"

"2 years 8 months." You answer without pausing, causing her eyebrows to raise. JJ didn't expect you to remember down to the month, it's been years since you and Spencer were together. That's not a short fling like JJ originally thought, that's a substantial amount of time.

"What's her name?" You ask, desperate to get information on this mystery woman who has stolen Spencer from you.

"Her name was Maeve." Was. You don't miss how she says was instead of is.

"Why do you hate Spencer?" JJ looked like she cared, but you know it's not you she cares about. She's in here to try and protect Spencer in some way, she's acting like you're the villain.

"I don't hate him. He abandoned me. Just packed up and left, no note, no goodbye. Haven't heard from him since." You snap, hating the amount of emotion that was in your voice. JJ's eyebrows furrow, that's just so unlike Spencer. He's not cruel, he's never been cruel but that...is cruel. You see a look flash across her face.

"Sweet boy isn't as sweet as he seems." You say softly, folding your arms over your chest.

"He must have had a good reason." JJ insists, her eyes landing on Spencer's back as he continues to map out the hunting grounds of the killer. You know he's just wasting time to avoid coming back in here. Spencer is a certifiable super genius, he finished mapping it out a while ago. He's just pretending he hasn't finished yet.

"Spence still with her? Maeve." Her name felt like poison on your tongue, and JJ slowly shook her head.

"She died in front of him, really tore him up." Your heart cracks a little bit at her words, you can't imagine how hard that must have been for him. You see JJ open her mouth to ask something else when the door opens, and a man with darker skin pokes his head in.

"JJ? Reid found him, we gotta go." As soon as he arrived, he's gone with JJ hot on his heels. She sends you a smile before she rushes out of the room, and you see Spencer following her path out. They're going to arrest a murderer who has an arsenal of weapons at his disposal.

"Spencer! Y-You can't go, it's not safe!" You blurt from the doorway, and he pauses. His eyes find yours as he holsters his pistol, an unreadable expression on his face.

"It's my job." And that's all he says before he disappears out of the precinct, leaving you once again.

You couldn't quell the anxiety turning in your gut, you're not sure how to exist while Spencer is out there hunting a murderer. You wished that you could turn off the part of your brain that's still so damn attached to him, but no matter how hard you try you can't silence your heart as it calls for him. You're not sure you could survive the constant fear of losing him if you ever ended up with him again, this life is too much for you to take. Maybe he knew that all those years ago when he left you the first time, Spencer always could see right through you. Maybe he left because he knew staying would only lead you to live a life of constant fear, maybe he was trying to protect you. Either way the reasons don't matter anymore because he left, and nothing can change how badly that hurt you.

"Does it normally take this long?" You ask a passing officer, who in turn shrugs before continuing on his path. You feel like you're going to explode or vomit, or both. It's been over 2 hours, should it be taking this long? What if he got shot? What if he's dead right now and you're sitting here with your damn thumb up your ass worrying about him like a useless housewife? Feeling useless, that's what you hate the absolute most. Knowing there's nothing you can do to stop a bullet on it's trajectory to his heart.

"Spence, are you sure you're okay?" You hear a flurry of voices and when his name graces JJ's lips you're pushing out of the room. Your eyes find him instantly, and then travel to his palm which is pressed tightly to his neck. His bleeding neck. You feel your heart rate spike, hammering like the hooves of wild horses as you move without thinking about it. Before you even understand that you've moved, you're stood in front of him. Your eyes try to scan his neck for wounds but his palm covers the location the blood is coming from.

"C'mere." You grab his wrist and yank him back towards where you saw a first aid kit earlier. Luckily your 2 and a half years of nursing school taught you how to stitch a wound and perform basic first aid. Spencer offers no resistance as you yank him to a back corner of the precinct, pushing him to sit down. You grab the first aid kit, slowly prying his hand from his neck. Your eyes mist at the wound, it's a bullet wound. Looks old though, there's scarred tissue. This had to have happened a few weeks ago at least. You see the thin line of the scar, the middle section seems to have opened up again.

"You didn't wait long enough for this to heal." You scold gently, not missing how his eyes watch you with an intensity smoldering in them. You miss the way he used to look at you, the way he's looking at you right now. You miss being the center of his whole world, you scoff. Look how easy it was for him to walk away from you. You threat a needle to stitch the center of his wound shut again, and when you look for numbing cream you discover that there isn't any.

"Spence, there isn't any- I can't find the numbing..." Your voice trails off as you begin to yank things out of the first aid kit to search for the numbing cream. Spencer's hand catches your wrist and it's only just now that you realize you're trembling.

"It's okay. I'll be fine." He settles back against the chair he's sitting in, turning his head to reveal his neck to you. You hesitate, the Spencer you remember had a very low pain threshold. All of a sudden he's expecting you to stitch him up with no numbing agent?

"Y/N, I can handle it." Spencer says again, his voice firmer than before. You swallow a lump in your throat before reaching forward to begin stitching. You press the needle against his neck, eyeing him to gauge his reaction as you puncture his skin to make the first thread. To your surprise he hardly flinches, a small quirk in his lip is the only giveaway that he's in pain. Is this the same man that got squirmy getting a shot? That would shy away from the needle? Now he's sitting here letting you stitch him up without moving a muscle, without even flinching? The more time you spend with him the more proof you get that this isn't the same Spencer that left you all those years ago.

"How did it happen?" You ask, wondering how he could have survived a gunshot to the neck. He shifts uncomfortably.

"Got shot, two inches away from hitting my jugular." Spencer says it so casually, but you're so stunned that you halt your movements for a moment.

"How many times have you been shot?" You ask, your voice hoarse. Is him getting shot a common occurrence?

"Twice. Also got shot in the leg." The casual way Spencer talks about it almost convinces you it isn't a big deal. But it is. It's a bullet ripping through his body, and it's happened to him on two separate occasions. You finish stitching and bandaging him up, your hands moving away from him as soon as you can.

"Thank God you went to nursing school or I'd be six feet under." He jokes. You know he's kidding but still, the thought of it makes you feel lightheaded.

"Don't say stuff like that." You snap softly, and you know Spencer can see the fear and vulnerability in your eyes. You hesitantly steal a glance up at him once he's stood up only to find he's already looking at you. You shy away from his intrusive gaze, and you could practically feel him probing at your mind. Reading your thoughts as if they were written down for him. You hate that he can always tell what you're thinking, you hate that it was so easy for him to read you. Like a damn book. You have to fight the urge to reach out and grab his hand, it's what you always did when you felt lost or unsure. Spencer was always there to ground you and bring your mind back out of your thoughts.

"Miss Y/L/N?" You hear JJ's voice gently interrupt you two. You shoot away from Spencer as though you were doing something scandalous. He doesn't move an inch.

"Yes!" You blurt a little too loudly, suddenly flustered being so close to him. Why does your sharp tongue always leave you when you need it?

"You're clear to go home."

"I can take her." Spencer speaks up before JJ has a chance to offer, and she knew he would. You swallow a nervous lump in your throat, your palms shaking.

The SUV has dark tint, you weren't expecting that. The second you sat back in the plush leather seat your mind flew to lewd thoughts of you leaning over the center console, Spencer's hand in your hair as he helps you take his cock in your mouth. You steal one glance at Spencer, his right hand holding the steering wheel loosely. Your cheeks heat up as you glance down between his legs, get ahold of yourself.

"The address is-"

"I remember." You knew he would. That damn eidetic memory ensured that he never forgot anything. It broke your heart a little, because some naïve part of you was hoping he remembered because it meant something to him. You hoped he remembered the way to your house because he didn't want to forget, because forgetting it meant forgetting you. But you know the reality, you know that he remembers because he has no choice but to remember. His memory is too good to allow him to forget anything, even if it was something he wanted to forget. You're grasping at straws and you know you are, holding onto that foolish notion that Spencer still held onto the memories. That he still held onto the gifts you gave him, crying softly in the night like you did sometimes.

"JJ told me about Maeve." You say softly into the silence, and you saw Spencer swallow thickly out of the corner of your eye. "I'm so sorry you lost her Spence."

"Thank you." He honestly wasn't expecting you to say that, to acknowledge the pain. Because acknowledging the pain meant that you knew he loved her. He did love her. But it was a different love then the love he feels for you. It was special, but so are you. You're special too.

"Have you...dated anyone else?" Spencer can't help but ask as he subconsciously continues the drive to your house. A drive he's committed to his memory, a drive he never wants to forget. You shift to look at him, there were a few you dated. You know when you tell Spencer about them that it'll drive him crazy.

"Tony Anderson." You say and just like you thought, Spencer groans deeply. Spencer detests Tony, they were practically mortal enemies when he still lived in Las Vegas.

"Tony? Seriously?" His tone is incredulous as his grasp on the steering wheel tightens ever so slightly.

"He was a good fuck at least." You know you shouldn't wind him up, but he hurt you for Christ's sakes. He deserves a little bit of pain too. Spencer flinches, a look of anger and something else simmering in his eyes.

"Please tell me you didn't have sex with Tony."

"Why does it matter?" You shouldn't enjoy upsetting people as much as you do. But there's still a small part of you that's convinced that Spencer deserves this.

"Because I can't live with the fact that somebody else has gotten to feel that perfect cunt of yours, let alone Tony." His crude words take you by surprise, and you can't fight the gasp that escapes your mouth.

"Well before you start digging your grave, relax. I never had sex with Tony." You decide to put him out of his misery, and you see the relief physically flood his body. You lean against the window, the next admission from you will leave the air heavier in it's wake.

"I've never slept with anyone but you Spence." You realize it's been a long time since you've seen Spencer let alone had sex with him but you could never bring yourself to sleep with someone else. It's not as though the opportunity never presented itself, you had plenty of chances to have sex with someone else. But you couldn't because there's still a stubborn part of you that doesn't want to betray Spencer.

"Really? Why?" Apparently this revelation surprised him.

"Because no matter where you go I will always belong to you." You snap without thinking, blinking tears from your eyes as you avoid his gaze. Spencer fell silent then, and you know he feels guilty. Probably because he's slept with someone else in the time since he's been with you.

"I know you have and it's fine I'm not trying to-"

"I haven't." Spencer corrects instantly, his eyes meeting yours through the darkness of the SUV. If he could see you he would see the look of utter surprise on your face. It's not as though Spencer was an overly sexually ambitious person when you dated, but you figured he probably slept with at least one person. "I haven't slept with anybody else either."

"I know someone that wants to though." You grumble without thinking, your mind drifting to JJ and the obvious crush she thinks isn't obvious. Spencer tilts his head in a way that resembles a confused puppy, you resist the urge to ruffle his hair.

"Who?"

"Agent Jareau." As soon as the name slips past the threshold of your lips, Spencer's jerks the wheel in surprise. You see a dark blush color his cheeks as his other hand reaches up to steady the wheel.

"J-Jennifer? No way! She's my best friend." You nearly laugh at his flustered state, and normally you would push it a little further but you decide to let it go. You don't want to completely destroy the way he sees her, you know you already destroyed the way she sees him.

"You have no idea what a catch you are Spencer." You tell him as you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting ready to exit the SUV. Spencer reaches over and places a warm hand on your wrist to stop you from leaving, his eyes searching yours for an answer he isn't sure you have.

"Come in?" You ask hopefully, you're not ready for him to leave again. Damnit why did he have to turn up again after so long? You were just starting to think that maybe you could move on and find someone new. You were finally starting to feel okay, and then Spencer reappears and turns your entire world upsidown all over again. Deep down you know that nobody will ever compare to Spencer Reid, and you don't want them to. You don't want anyone to be like Spencer, you want him to be his entirely own person. It's what you love the most about him, is his ability to be himself no matter where he is or who he's with. All of his little quirks, the things about himself that he doesn't notice but you do.

"Yeah." His answer comes across as an exhalation of breath, and you try to hide how excited you are. You want to hold on to any moment you can, stolen moments that you take as you please with no regret whatsoever.

"Nothing has changed." Spencer muses once you unlock the front door and push inside the darkened living room. You blush, admittedly nothing about your small townhouse has changed. It's all basically the exact same as when Spencer saw it last. You rub a hand down your arm as Spencer's eyes go wandering. Trailing over the curtains he remembers hastily pulling closed to protect your decency on more than a few occasions. His gaze then travels to the couch, all those movie nights you two spent curled up together. Or when he got you into Star Trek and you couldn't stop watching it. Pain stabs his chest for a moment, it's hard to remember everything he had to let go of to get the job he has now.

"I miss you too, you know." Spencer says off-handedly. It takes you by surprise, the sureness in his tone is jarring. He sounds so comfortable admitting when he's vulnerable, it's never been easy for you to be vulnerable with him. Maybe that's part of the reason he left, maybe you drove him away by shutting him out. His eyes meet yours, a look so soft in his eyes it feels as though his gaze is caressing your skin. You bite your bottom lip to keep the emotions at bay, what is it about this man that makes you so emotional?

"I never said I missed you." You try to snap, to add an edge to your tone. But instead it came out watery and broken, and in turn Spencer reached up to swipe away a falling tear.

"But you do." You can't even deny it, it's obvious.

"Damn you Spencer Reid, I was finally starting to feel okay again." You cry softly, curling your arms towards your chest in an attempt to shrink away from him. He cups your cheeks in his palms, turning your face up towards him.

"I wasn't." He admits before his lips are on yours, and it's not frenzied and desperate like you've been picturing all these years. It's slow and calculated, soft and passionate. Firm but with a tenderness that makes your knees buckle from the gravity of it. Spencer's fingers card into your hair, pulling your head closer to his. He nips at your lower lip, his arms crushing you against his chest. You throw yourself into him, your arms holding him as tightly as you possibly can. Afraid that if your vise grip loosens, even for a second, that he'll slip through your fingers like trying to hold onto water. You almost don't want to let your eyes close, you don't want him to disappear again.

"I missed you, I miss you-" You gasp against his lips, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt. Spencer continues to move his lips languidly against yours, backing you against the wall. His hand ghosts down your side to the hem of your shirt, his fingers toying with it.

"O-Off." You beg, and in an instant Spencer is pulling your shirt over your head. His eyes land on your bare chest, shocked that he almost forgot that you never really wear a bra. His hands curl around your back, drawing your chest up into his awaiting lips. His mouth curls around your hardened nipple, your hand flying into his hair from the contact.

"Is this a dream? Please tell me you're really here Spencer." You beg, almost becoming lost in the emotions again. His eyes flutter up to meet yours, his mouth reluctantly leaving your nipple. He brushes his lips over yours, his hand trailing down your stomach towards the waistband of your leggings.

"This is real, I'm here baby. I'm home." Hearing those words was too much, and you launch yourself into his chest as the first tear trickles down your cheek. Your lips press sloppily to his, the kiss messy and wet as his hand slides into your leggings. His fingers find your wet slit in an instant, desperately parting your lips to slide a lithe finger into you. Your body reacts to him instantly, in a way that surprises you. Almost as though it too was crying out for him, keening into him and begging for his touch as much as your mind is. Spencer hauls one of your thighs up to hook around his waist as he presses another finger into you. You cry out softly into the quiet air, accompanied only by the labored breathing fanning across your face.

"I need to feel you, I- I need-" You can barely get the words out as he steadily pumps his fingers into you. His mouth on yours silences your desperate pleading, his chest firmly pressing your back into the wall. You missed being able to feel him and you hate that you forgot what it feels like to have his body on yours. It's been so long you forgot what the sting of his cock feels like. What it feels like when you stretch wide open around him, to feel like you're being ripped in two. Spencer continues his pace, his thumb rolling your clit to provide the extra stimulation you're missing. It's not enough to satisfy you, but its enough for you two cum. Which you do. You gush around his fingers as you gently come undone, your back arching into him.

"Please," You beg wantonly, curling your other leg around his waist as his hands hook underneath your thighs. Spencer's lips press against yours, moving slowly against your own. You know now that you will never stop loving Spencer, and that he's completely ruined you for life. You'll never be able to love anybody else without your heart wandering back to him. But then again, you don't really mind because you don't want to be with anybody else. You don't want to love anybody else. You just want him, only him. He pushes into your room, walking the entirety of the way with his eyes closed and his mouth pressed against yours. He has the layout of your house mapped out in his head? He never even bumped into anything until he was dropping you unceremoniously on the bed.

"Tell me what you need, I'll give you whatever you want." Spencer husks against you, hovering above you. Your fingers are already unbuttoning his shirt before you even have the chance to respond to him. You know instantly what you want, what you need from him.

"I want all of you, give me everything." You plead, your lips practically chasing his as he kneels up over you. He's being soft tonight, and that's something you appreciate greatly. You need to feel his love, you need to feel everything you know he can't quite put into words. His hands are shaking as he undoes the button and zipper of his dress slacks before kicking them off the edge of the bed. You stare up at his naked body, looking as though it's been sculpted by the Gods specifically for you. Spencer smiles softly at you as he pulls your leggings down your legs, leaving little nips and kisses on your inner thighs as he goes.

"Hurry." You groan, nearly clawing at his bare shoulders to pull him back up to you. Spencer chuckles at how eager you are, watching with interested eyes as the head of his cock breaches your folds. You reluctantly stretch open as he continues his intrusion, his fists curling tightly around the sheets. Christ you weren't lying about not sleeping with anyone else, you're so tight it's making him feel a little lightheaded. Inch by inch Spencer presses into you, his forehead resting against yours once his pelvis is sitting flush against yours. Sure, you've had sex with hi before but never have you felt this connected to him. Spencer sits like a gentleman and lets you adjust to his size, trying to take a few deep breaths himself. It's hard to breathe with your heat sucking him in with a vice grip.

"Can I move?" You're surprised by how collected his voice is, but the furrow of his brow is a giveaway that he's losing the battle to stay stock still inside you.

"Yes, please." You moan, unashamed. Spencer gently draws his hips back, pulling himself nearly all the way out before swiftly sliding back into your inviting cunt. He sets the pace slow and deep, his hands reaching up to lace through yours. Every time the head of his cock nudges that spot deep inside you, you can feel your toes curl. Your head slams back against the pillows, unable to keep your gaze on him any longer. You feel yourself becoming one with him, and you wish you could capture this moment somewhere other then just in your minds eye. Your memory is nowhere near as good as Spencer's, he'll be able to recall every detail of this moment up until the day he dies. But over time, this memory will fade for you. It'll wear out, all the details becoming fuzzy and blurred. If he's not here in front of you, you'll forget and you don't want to forget.

When the night draws to a close, and the moon has reached its peak, Spencer slips carefully out of bed. It chisels away pieces of his heart as he carefully gets dressed, reaching for his go bag which he'd brought inside upon realizing that he'd be staying a while. He pulls out a t-shirt he'd worn recently and leaves it folded neatly at the end of your bed, something for you to hold onto when he's gone. Spencer's cheeks are wet with tears as he leans over and presses a kiss to your head.

"I love you." Is the last thing he whispers in the space between you two before he's gone again.

On the jet, Derek can't keep his eyes off Spencer and that helplessly broken look on his face. A book is laid nestled in Spencer's lap, but Derek can tell he isn't really reading it. Trying to bother Spencer into opening up probably won't work, but it's worth a try. Derek has to do something and this is all he can think of.

"You okay kid?"

"Yeah fine, why?" Spencer draws his eyes up from the book, his gaze meeting Derek's from across the table. While Spencer might be a talented actor, he can't lie to Derek.

"Look I know how hard it must have been leaving her again-"

"Did you know that on average the FDA allows a minimum of 1 rodent hair per 100 grams of peanut butter? They have to allow themselves room for error just in case of-"

"Alright you win, forget it." Derek sighs, turning his gaze out the window. In an instant Spencer drops his peanut butter spiel, turning back to his book. A guaranteed way to get people off his back is to start rambling about something boring or gross, they usually leave him alone pretty quickly. It's not that Spencer doesn't appreciate Derek's concern, he just doesn't want to talk about it. He can't talk about it, because every time he imagines how you're going to feel when you wake up, tears come to the surface of his eyes. He hates this case more than all the rest even though they saved the victim. Spencer hates this case for ripping open an old wound, one he thought healed.

He was wrong.

When you wake the next morning you knew he'd be gone. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you reached over and felt cold sheets. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you cried how much you loved him over and over again even though he couldn't hear you. It doesn't change how badly this hurts, how much worse it feels compared to the first time he left. Your eyes catch the shirt folded at the end of the bed and you grab it instantly. You pull it over your body and you lay down in your bed, inhaling his cologne that you know will fade over time. Eventually his scent will disappear, removing all traces that this fabric belonged to him at all. Every trace of him will disappear over time, every mark from your body will slowly vanish. When it's all gone, you'll be left with nothing more than a t-shirt that's too big for you, and a cold reminder that the man you love will never truly be yours. A reminder that every time he comes home, he leaves again.

A cold reminder that this world is cruel for bringing you Spencer Reid, only to rip him from you again and again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer x y/n #spencer x you

1K notes · View notes

fangirlingtodeath513 · 4 years

Text

Ayo this is unedited notes from Misha’s panel excuse the emojis (except for the one after Misha said “what are they gonna do, fire me?” because that one was warrented)

* Watching the finale was tough because it represented the end of a chapter of his life but he has a palpable feeling that the spn family isn’t going anywhere

* Favorite memory making a recipe w/kids and Vicki? Pasta with jam sauce 🥺 bizarre and totally disgusting 😂

* Projects in mind? Yes, worked a lot on US election which was pretty invigorating for him, plans to do more work on Georgia runoff elections. Publishing a book of poetry, close to closing a deal with a publisher for that. Couple of film projects he’s trying to get off the ground, one he wouldn’t be in or direct, other interested in directing and possibly acting.

* What do you think happened when Jack brought Cas back and what’s he doing? There was a different ending that COVID made impossible to shoot. Not supposed to talk about it but it was big crowd scenes. In the original iteration, he didn’t go to recreate Heaven, he had a different ending. Didn’t read the last two endings and watched them as they aired. Knew in the abstract what Cas and Jack’s fates were but he doesn’t really know what the answer is.

* What was West and Maison’s experience of watching Spn for the first time? They can’t watch scary things at all so they haven’t ever watched a full episode. West and Maison asked him to tell them when a scary part was coming up and Misha said “well unfortunately, I don’t really know”. Kids looked totally shellshocked at the cold open 😂 Spn may have been good for his career and the fandom but has irrevocably scarred his children

* Screencapping chat because they’re typing too fast 😂

* Will you go to Russia again? He’d love to but he’s said a lot of bad things about Putin so he might be arrested 😂

* What qualities do he and Cas share? Over time, the character melded with Misha and became softer and more sensitive and tried to do the right thing and be a good person.

* What’s the one thing you’ll take with you from playing Castiel? He thinks a lot. On a professional level, it was fascinating to play a character for so many years, (discussed recently with J2) the characters really became a part of them. Watching Dean’s death he cried, but because “that’s Cas’s friend Dean dying”. Cas will always be will him, an aspect of his being forever.

* What’s your favorite thing to bake with kiddos? Loves to bake pie, fave is strawberry rhubarb.

* He teared up watching 15x18 🥺

* Have other cast members disclosed what the original ending was supposed to be? Doesn’t want to be the one to reveal state secrets but “What are they gonna do, fire me? 😏”

* We saw a version of Heaven that was populated with all the people from their past. But they couldn’t do that due to COVID restrictions.

* Fave BTS memory from set? Don’t have one, they’ve been close friends for 12 years. They’ve had laughing fits, fights, gotten pissed off at each other, but some of his fondest memories of work are of Supernatural.

* Why did Cas’s trench coat stay intact? He can magically mend his clothing. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ When he went in, they wanted him to look like Constantine-suit was way too big, had to fold his shirt and tuck it because it was too big. He got a new suit at first which wasn’t explained, lost the tie and then brought it back, which wasn’t explained, and once season they just started him in a new wardrobe and said nothing 😂

* Stole trench coats from set, will probably wrap them around himself and cry at some point

* To get in the zone for Cas’s confession and death, he went and sat in a dark corner of the set and Rob Hayter stood guard over him so no one would bother him 🥺 and when they were ready for him on set, Rob would come over very gently and say “Misha they’re ready for you”

* How did you feel when you read 15x18? He knew that ending was coming for a long time, been talking to Berens about it, and was really happy about it. It was the ending he wanted for Cas. Felt risky and brave for the show to do and he was proud to be a part of that. Seen people complaining about bury your gays trope and he doesn’t feel that’s what happened with Cas’s ending. He’a glad Cas got to have that moment and he’s proud the show did that.

* Do you think you’ll get an SPN tattoo? Doesn’t have any, was thinking about getting some for his children. Should he get tats of Jensen and Jared’s faces? 😂 Get a tat of Cas’s face on his abdomen? 😂 Probably no tattoo re:spn for him but he totally supports anyone that does.

* The last scene he shot as Cas was the last scene of the day on Friday. He, Alex, Rich, and Jensen all had to get to Vegas for a con. They shot late into the night and finished around 1:30-very teary, Misha’s goodbye to the show- had to get a chartered flight to get there on time. One of the engines exploded and they had to circle back, plane was shaking, really scary. Texting their families, didn’t know if they were gonna crash land. It was such a strange night, super intense.

* He misses the pimpmoble.

* What non-hunter job would Cas be good at? Security guard, he never sleeps and never gets bored. Not a great teacher, architect, or artist. Handy in the kitchen, maybe a cook?

* What color are Cas’s wings? Shit, idk, I always thought they were black. Ah! They’re rainbow colored, how about that?

* When he was directing, Jared would take the canvas off his director’s chair and lay it over so it looked like a real chair and Misha fell for that probably 5 times. Jared kept messing up lines so Misha cut and went to see what was wrong and Jared pied him in the face. Jensen brought him another shirt with was nice, went for lunch and Jensen pied him in the face 🙄😂

* Real story behind the handprint in 15x18? He doesn’t remember but it was a really nice touch.

* Fave thing about panels? He and Jensen have had a lot of fun panels in Rome 👀 Brought up the resume-off 👀👀 Had pizza delivered to a panel once.

* Fave version of Castiel to play? Had fun playing Lucifer. Loved playing human!Cas, was fun to explore what it would be like. Just regular Cas was his favorite. Wouldn’t have wanted to trade regular Cas for any other iterations 🥺

#misha collins #supernatural #spn spoilers

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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years

Note

Not a prompt exactly, but Fenrys filming drunk Lorcan being soft and silly with Elide and then showing him the next day

What Happens in Vegas... Part 2

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre - Answered Prompt

Elide and Lorcan wake up to find a video Fenrys took of their wedding ceremony.

Part 1 | Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language

1658 words

*******

The first thing Elide noticed when she woke up was that her head felt like it was being crushed by a cement truck that was playing dubstep.

She groaned and then winced at the noise before turning to bury her face into the solid chest of the man lying next to her.

Lorcan wasn't any better. He felt like his head was going to explode if he moved too fast. But when he felt Elide press closer to him, he instinctively wrapped an arm around her, wincing, too, as the movement sent a wave of nausea through him. He used what little coherency he had to keep the stomach-churning feeling at bay.

They both slept restlessly for another hour before managing the harrowing act of sitting up. Well, Elide sat up. Lorcan tried to lift himself and deemed it too much work, so he threw his head back down into Elide’s lap, groaning as the movement made his head spin. She could hear a distant buzz that sounded like a phone notification.

Propped against the headboard, Elide took a steadying breath and slowly started to feel like herself again. She let one hand rest on Lorcan’s head while she ran her fingers through his hair and had the fleeting question of why she was wearing one of his earrings on her finger.

The buzzing kept coming and she saw her phone on the nightstand light up as message after message came in.

Wanting nothing more than a large cup of coffee, Elide grabbed her phone to see why she was being bombarded with messages. If the sound from across the room was any indication, Lorcan’s phone was also receiving dozens of texts. It made her pause a moment to wonder what the hell happened the night before.

The moment Elide opened the group chat, memories of the previous night flashed in her mind.

The casino. Drinking. Lorcan. A chapel. Elvis.

Oh gods. Elide looked down at the hand still in Lorcan’s hair and stared at the ring on her finger. Her pinky, not her ring finger, because it only fit on her pinky; she cringed as she remembered how Lorcan had removed his earring as an impromptu engagement ring.

Engagement ring.

Holy Hellas. Holy fucking Hellas. Engagement ring. Wedding. She and Lorcan had gotten married. In Vegas. By a fucking Elvis Impersonator.

She couldn’t stop the hysterical laugh that escaped her. This wasn’t a situation she ever thought she’d be in. She kept laughing even as Lorcan twisted his head and looked at her in bewilderment while groaning at the loud volume of it. She couldn’t help it.

Her laughter soon died as she realized she wasn’t freaking out. It was insane and impulsive and totally not like her to do that, yes—but it wasn’t bad. She wasn’t upset. When she thought about being married to Lorcan...her heart felt happy.

She smiled down at his face which had turned to press into her stomach as he wrapped an arm around her so he could use her to block out the light. The situation was unconventional, but so were they. And it made for one hell of a story

Elide went back to scrolling on her phone and tried to find the start of the messages from last night.

The first few were with Fenrys. It seemed she or Lorcan had called him to be the witness for their ceremony—why him and not someone else, she didn't know—and he responded immediately telling them not to say ‘I do’ before he could be there to record it.

And then he sent a video.

Elide shook Lorcan’s shoulder and waited until he grumbled something incoherent and turned his face towards her phone before pushing play.

The video was shaky but it clearly showed Elide and Lorcan standing in a chapel next to a man wearing an Elvis costume. Elide had Lorcan’s earring on his finger and Lorcan...Lorcan was wearing a veil pulled back over his hair. All the while Fenrys flipped the camera back and forth to show the couple and then his own excited face.

Lorcan’s arms tightened around Elide as he watched the video. He blinked once and sat up, rubbing a hand down his face, before looking pointedly down at her finger that still held his earring. When his eyes met hers again, they were worried. As if he was unsure what her reaction to all this would be.

“Did we…” He asked, brows furrowed,

“Yeah,” she nodded, glancing down at he finger again “we did.”

“We got married.”

“Uh-huh.”

“In Vegas, drunk off our asses, by Elvis?”

“Yup,” Elide answered with a ‘pop’ and finally let the grin that’d been aching to show itself, spread across her face.

Lorcan searched her face for any panic, but finding none, offered a small smile in return before resting his chin on her shoulder and gesturing for her to play the video.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Elvis said, monotonously.

The Lorcan in the video nodded vigorously and replied “Yes, Mr. Elvis, sir. I want to make this woman my wife. Elide, El, ‘Lide, you are the coolest, most badass lady I know. Way better than Gala-what’s-her-face and more beautiful than...than..”

“Fenrys?” Drunk Elide suggested, giggling as Fenrys protested and shook the camera.

“Yes,” Drunk Lorcan agreed, “you are so much more beautiful than Fenrys.”

And then Drunk Lorcan lifted his hand and booped Drunk Elide on the nose, sending her into another fit of giggles.

Sober Elide was trying her absolute hardest not to laugh at the recording because Sober Lorcan looked like he was going to throttle Fenrys for getting evidence of this on video.

“And do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Elvis droned on.

Drunk Elide swayed as she laughed and then abruptly got herself back together before nodding. “I do. I do. Yeah, I take him to be Mr. Lochan. Mr. Lorcan Lochan,” Drunk Elide and Drunk Lorcan laughed while Sober Lorcan glowered and Fenrys hollered a cheer from behind the camera.

Drunk Elide kept talking. “Lorcan, I loooooove you,” she slurred the words, “I love that you’re a big ol’ grump to everyone but me, cause I’m adorable as fuck. And how when you hug me I feel like I’m wrapped up in the best blanket. And I really love your dic—”

Sober Elide snorted and Fenrys almost dropped the camera from laughing, effectively cutting off the rest of Drunk Elide’s vows.

“By the power vested in me, by Hunka Hunka Burning Love, I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may—”

Drunk Elide and Drunk Lorcan ignored the rest of what Elvis was saying, by pulling each other into a frenzied kiss. She had one leg hitched around his hips with his hands gripping her ass as her’s clawed at his back.

The camera suddenly flipped around to show Fenrys’ grinning face as he wiggled his eyebrows. “There you have it, folks. Mr. and Mrs. Lochan.” He grinned at something behind the screen, most likely Drunk Elide and Drunk Lorcan trying to stumble out of the chapel.

“Hey, man!” the sound of Drunk Lorcan’s voice echoed throughout the video as Fenrys narrated about him talking to a stranger passing by. “Have you met my wife?”

A moment passed and they could no longer hear Drunk Lorcan or Drunk Elide, but Fenrys kept grinning maniacally into the camera as he said “ Aelin, Rowan, you might have to give up the newlywed suite tonight!”

Then the video cut off.

Elide was quietly laughing as Lorcan groaned into her shoulder. He grumbled, “I am going to kill Fenrys. He sent that to everyone didn’t he?” And almost as an afterthought, he asked through clenched teeth, “Was I wearing a fucking veil?”

Elide couldn’t hold it in any longer and hunched over in a fit of laughter. “Lorcan, you make such a pretty bride.”

He growled and nipped at her shoulder. “Not funny.”

“Extremely funny.” She corrected and pulled the group chat back up. Sure enough, it was filled with responses.

“Rowan says 'Congrats, I hope you both have massive hangovers.'” She snorted at his next text, “'Aelin is pissed you ran off and got married without inviting her.'”

“Why did we invite Fenrys and not anyone else?” Elide asked.

“No fucking clue.”

She rolled her eyes before going back to the texts. “Aelin then writes 'I am so PISSED at you, Lochan, for not inviting me to your wedding! How can there be a ridiculous, Vegas wedding without ME involved....but congrats, I guess. I expect all the details once you and hubby sober up.'” Elide laughed, making a mental note to call Aelin after she has some coffee. “Then she sent a winky face and a bunch of eggplant and donut emojis.”

Lorcan grunted in acknowledgment.

“Aedion sends a thumbs up, and Lysandra writes 'My favorite part—besides Lorcan in a wedding veil, which will forever bring me joy—was when Elide talked about Lorcan’s dick.' And then more eggplant emojis.”

“Why are these people your friends?” Lorcan asked as he sat up again.

She laughed and caught the smirk on his face, “Don’t even try with that, Lochan,” she winked, “they’re your friends too.”

He rolled his eyes and snorted. “No, I am not going by Lorcan Lochan, no way.”

Elide laughed and got out of bed, finally noticing the piece of paper that had fallen to the floor. She picked it up and turned back towards him grinning.

“Lorcan Lochan, it has a certain ring to it.”

Lorcan just rolled his eyes but gave a small, resigned smile to his wife.

Wife.

Lorcan let a broad grin emerge as he thought about the diamond he had stashed in his sock drawer at home and realized that he’d get to replace the earring on Elide’s finger very soon.

*****

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bbrandy2002 · 3 years

Text

Fool’s Rush In

Chapter 18

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Book: TRR AU

Warnings: Language, crude talk, and the usual bad writing.

I had planned from the beginning to end this series after the next chapter and an epilogue, but call me crazy, I love it too much. So while this part of the story will end, I still plan to update with one-shots or stories from time to time. If you’re just done with it, let me know.

Also, this chapter felt a little off to me, so I apologize if it's terrible, but I think I ended on a good note.

Thanks @burnsoslow for prereading.and usage of your girl, who finally got to make her debut.

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

"Damn it, Riley! Pick up!" Liam grumbled as he lowered the cell phone from his ear and tossed it in the seat beside him. The royal jet had been in the air for a little over four hours already, and he'd grown frustrated at getting her voice mail each time. Surely, she was home by now.

Even though it was the middle of the night in Las Vegas, it was worth interrupting her. He had tried unsuccessfully to contact Riley since he packed his bags earlier and hastily headed for the airstrip. By this point, there must have been a dozen or so messages left on her phone without so much as a hint she'd gotten them.

While time wasn't an issue -- he'd get to Las Vegas one way or the other -- it was the desperation to hear from his new wife and tell her he knew precisely why she left.

And that he loved her.

Tilting his head back against the headrest, he swiveled side-to-side in his luxury chair while tightly clutching his freshly poured scotch. The security footage he watched earlier that morning replayed in his mind again. There were no doubts about what it showed: Madeleine confronted Riley outside their quarters just minutes after leaving the ball. Without sound, however, no one could ascertain specifically what was said among the two women. It was clear though, Riley was not a willing participant in that conversation. When they saw the disk held up in the Countess' hands, and the look of sheer horror on his pussycat's face, that told Liam all he needed to know. This was a blackmail situation, plain and simple, that included assault; those flowers he found scattered on the ground when he returned to his quarters last night all made sense now. This act was deliberate and treasonous, and Liam would ensure his ex-fiancee paid handsomely for it.

After they viewed the footage several more times, the Royal Guard was immediately summoned to Krona to find Madeleine and take her into custody. Liam knew it was a long shot whether his guards could pull that sting off, but he was working with what he had at the moment.

Despite whatever happened next, there was one thing the King was confident of: He was prepared to give up his entire Kingdom to get his girl back. Returning to Cordonia without her was not an option.

Shaking his tumbler of partially melted ice cubes, Liam leaned forward and steadily poured another bottle of scotch into his glass. As soon as he sat back and raised the fresh beverage to his lips, he was startled by the ringing of his cell phone. In a rush to answer, he hastily set the drink aside and snatched his phone up from where he tossed it earlier.

"Hello! Love?" He answered, hopeful it was her.

"Hey, little brother. Love you too ... Say, do you know if the palace has a Spanish tickler or a breast ripper? Asking for a friend."

Liam furrowed his brows in confusion before rising from his seat, plopping a knee down on its cushioned bottom, and glancing to the back of the plane. "Leo? Why are you calling me? We're on the same damn plane. I'm looking right at you."

"Nevermind that. Listen, I figured out a way to take care of Madeleine once and for all. Behold ..." Leo held up a leather-bound book and waved it over his head while Liam squinted from the front of the plane to get a better look. "... The King Constantine Guide To Fucking Torture In The 21st Century; Father gave it to me after my investiture ceremony. The way I see it, there really is no other option here than to tie her to a tree in front of the palace, invite the public to watch for a modest fee, and do some cool shit with iron rods and spikes. I got dibs on the knee-splitter, though."

"Leo ..." Liam began to warn his brother how ridiculous that plan was before stopping himself and staring off into the distance for a moment in thought. "Wait ... is there anything about flaying in that book?"

"Hell yeah there is! And if you're interested in thumbscrews, my buddy, Pete, has a trunk full of them. He uses them for ass play, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind letting us borrow them to split Maddie's thumbs in half." Leo let out a maniacal laugh.

Liam chuckled, despite the peculiarity of the conversation. "I'm not going to lie and tell you I'm not interested -- to the contrary, actually. And while I appreciate your help in seeing that Madeleine is brought to justice, I think we better stick to more lawful means."

"Boo, you whore!" The line went dead with a click.

Liam held the phone away from his ear, watching Leo sink down into his chair in a huff. "Really?" He called back in agitation. Met with the silent treatment and a middle finger from his disgruntled brother, Liam rolled his eyes, then slumped back down into his seat. Maybe he'd try to call Riley again.

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

The phone on Riley's nightstand buzzed again. She knew it was another call from Liam, and while she felt remorseful for ignoring all of his calls and texts, she couldn't bring herself to look at or answer them quite yet. The sooner all ties between them were broken, she believed, the quicker he could forget all about her and the mess she made of everything.

But even her willpower was slipping. Riley slid her hand out from under the pillow and reached over to pick up her phone. Holding it to her chest, she contemplated for a second just reading his texts and returning his calls, but Madeleine had warned to end all contact with him. Obviously, she was curious about what he had to say, but it was too risky. I'm so sorry, Liam.

Hitting the power button on her cell, the light on the device faded to black before she tossed it in the nightstand drawer.

Early the next morning, Riley's eyes flickered open to the sound of a banging on her front door, followed by the incessant ringing of her doorbell. Feeling exhausted from a lack of sleep, mainly because of crying and unable to think about anything other than how she hurt Liam, Riley decided to ignore it. She just wanted to be left alone, and eventually, they'd give up and leave, right?

Except they didn't.

Annoyed, she let out a sigh and then eased herself up out of bed; the pain in her back was still a problem. Tossing a robe over her body, she slowly made her way down the stairs of her townhome -- each step excruciating -- until she finally made it to the door.

Twisting the lock, she opened the entry door, before letting out a sudden gasp at the tearful person standing on the other side.

"Oh my God, Riley! Y-You're alive! You're really alive!"

"Alyssa?" Riley's best friend from New York pulled her into a relieved hug, nearly sobbing at that point. "What're you doing here?"

"I thought something terrible happened to you, but now that I can see you're still among the living ..." she sniffled before pulling back and narrowing her blazing blue eyes at her friend. "Where have you been? I've been trying to get ahold of you ever since you texted me that you were boarding a plane in Cordonia, and that something serious happened involving Tyler. You promised me you'd call as soon as you landed--"

"I know. I'm so sorry. It was late ..."

" -- and you didn't. Then I worried, even more, when you didn't answer any of my calls back. I had to book the first red-eye flight here to make sure you were all right." Finished with her rant, a huffing Alyssa's jaw immediately clenched. "Now, what did that shithead ex of yours do? I'll kill him if he hurt you, Ri. I might be small, but I'm scrappy like an alleycat. You know I'll claw his eyes out."

Riley let out a light chuckle; Alyssa was always overprotective of her and had a clever way with words, but quickly, that chuckle faded into a teary frown. "Oh, Lyss," she whimpered as her face fell into her hands.

Alyssa quickly wrapped her arms around Riley and pulled her into a warm embrace. "Aww, Riley. Sweetie, it's going to be okay," she soothed.

Stepping inside, Alyssa kicked the door shut and led them both over to the sofa. Sensing Riley was in pain -- and not just emotional -- she helped lower her troubled best friend onto the couch. "I want you to start from the beginning and tell me everything that happened."

The best friends had remained in contact over the last several weeks. It was Alyssa's frantic morning phone call over a month ago that alerted Riley to the news coverage of her impromptu marriage to Liam, having saw it on the news.

And while Alyssa was aware of everything about Cordonia and Liam, and how Riley fit into all that from their prior conversations, she listened intently while it was revealed to her the details of the incident with Madeleine and the video her ex-husband gave to the Countess.

Grabbing a tissue from the end table, Alyssa handed it to Riley. "So this cow confronted you with that disgusting video and basically blackmailed you into leaving, or she would release it to the press?" Riley nodded somberly.."Ugh, I want this treasonous bitch thrown in the dungeon, subjected to live-streamed daily anal fistings with giant Hulk gloves ... And Tyler, I want to break every bone in his rotten body, one at a time. And I want to leave him there afterwards, dripping just enough water on his lips, so he doesn't die of dehydration, screaming in agony for the weeks it will take to die of starvation."

Riley's face scrunched up. "God, Alyssa."

Alyssa shrugged. "What? I don't care; it's what they deserve for hurting you. Did you at least tell Liam what happened?"

This time, Riley shook her head. "No. Madeleine warned me if I told him, she would release the video, and then the council would likely force him to step down. I won't allow him to lose everything for someone like me."

Irritated, Alyssa pressed a palm to her forehead. "Why are you like this?"

"Like, what?" Riley asked in exasperation.

"That whole, 'someone like me,' part. He wanted to stay married to you. He made you the queen of his country. You've said he couldn't keep his goddamn hands off you for two seconds. And more importantly, you told me you have never felt more loved in your life, than you do when you're with him. The fact that you still question your worthiness to him blows my mind."

Alyssa reached for Riley's shaky hand, able to tell by the tears sliding down her cheeks and the soft whimpers that she'd touched on something. "You're his pussycat, Riley. Liam already lost everything when you left him. Tell me you know that."

Riley wiped at her face., her voice stifled, "I just wanted to protect him."

"I know." Alyssa smiled softly. "But you needed to give him the chance to decide what he wanted. You made it for him because you know he'd choose you, regardless if he lost everything else; that's how much he loves you, Ri. You can't protect someone who loves you by hurting them. Besides, he's the King; he can simply execute the council if he wants to -- Liam’s not going anywhere."

"You just HAD to add that last part in, didn't you?" Riley laughed, feeling a sense of ease as her mood lightened. It felt good to talk to someone who could help her make sense of everything and realize she hadn’t exactly made the best call by leaving and not telling Liam what happened. "But what do I do about this video? What if Madeleine releases it to the public?"

"Yeah, a video of a married woman having sex with her husband -- Oh, the shame!" she retorted. "Look, you'll be famous on Pornhub for a few weeks, and it'll fizzle out. I know that doesn't make it all better, but you have a lot of people who love you ... we'll be there for you if that happens. Besides, it's Gonzo Dick; I doubt anyone will wanna watch anyway."

Riley snorted out at the nickname she gave her ex-husband. "Stop making me laugh."

Alyssa cracked a grin. "Nah. If I can make you laugh at that asshole's expense and his crooked dick, then it's worth it."

"Well,” she breathed, “ I suppose I should get dressed and call Liam. Tell him what happened, and hopefully, he'll … forgive .." her voice trailed off at tasting an increasing collection of bile in her throat and a familiar rumble in her stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

Riley frowned. "Damn it, why do I keep getting sick?"

After rushing to the bathroom with Alyssa's help, Riley came out moments later, flushed and perspiring. Alyssa, who waited outside the door to make sure she was all right, eyed her friend with grave concern. "Ri, are you sure you don't have a concussion? You said that Madeleine caused you to fall, and you complained you’ve been getting sick a lot. Is there any chance you hit your head too?"

Riley considered for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't think so. I mean, it all happened so fast I don't really remember, but my head doesn't hurt."

"OH NO! You have memory loss too, on top of the vomiting and a hurt back? Riley, you need to go to the hospital now. This is serious."

"Alyssa, I'm fine. I don't need to go to the hospital," Riley dismissed and hobbled past her friend toward the kitchen. "You always worry too much."

Alyssa followed behind her, brows bumped together in a scowl. "Because you're a stubborn ass who never listens, that's why. You need to get checked out," she insisted. Riley paid no attention as made her way to the fridge; that reaction only served to piss Alyssa off. "You can ignore me all you want, but you know as well as I do, I'll just keep annoying the hell out of you until you do it … I'll sing every Dave Matthews song ever written -- On repeat."

Riley shut the fridge door and turned at the threat, giving her a dismayed glare. "You wouldn't."

Alyssa tilted her chin. "You know damn well I would. I have... so much to say, so much to say, so much --"

"Please stop! I'm going."

---------

At Valley Hospital and Medical Center, Drake sat slumped down in the waiting room of the E.R; a thawed ice pack covered his crotch. His increasingly irritated self caught sight of a nurse escorting yet another patient back for examination. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Tired of waiting, he cast the ice pack aside and marched straddle-legged to the triage desk where a beefy nurse with a scowl sat filing her nails. "How much longer is this gonna take?" He demanded bitterly.

The nurse remained focused on her nails and answered in a careless fashion. "You'll get called back when it's your turn, Mr. Walker."

"My turn? MY TURN? I've been here for 15 fucking hours waiting for my turn. I've watched one person after the next walk right in, get treated, and leave. Whose ass do I actually have to lick to get treatment around here?"

Unimpressed with his theatrics, she folded her arms on the desk and looked up at Drake with a glower. "Look. You got kicked in the wang by a hooker. Shit happens. It's not the end of the world. Go home, have a beer, and a good laugh. You'll live." She resumed her filing.

Drake ran both hands through his rumpled hair, letting out a sardonic laugh. "I cannot fucking believe you just said that to me. I suffer trauma on my transplanted dick, and the greatest healthcare minds in the world tell me to have a beer and laugh about it?" his voice shrieked.

The nurse blew on her nails. "That's what I said."

That snarky remark sent him even further over the edge. A red-faced Drake pounded two white-knuckled fists on the desk and leaned down into her space. "Now you listen here, lady. I demand to be seen right now, or so help me, I'll tear this whole goddamn place apart brick-by-fucking-brick! Do you understand me?"

Having none of that, the nurse, who was several inches taller than a startled Drake expected, sprung for her chair and loomed over him menacingly. Drake flinched when she rammed the nail file at him and threatened, "Now, you listen.You can either sit your ass down, or I will sit you down. Do you understand me?"

He didn't understand. He would never understand.

A security guard who heard the commotion casually approached the agitated pair and placed a firm hold on Drake's elbow. "Do we have a problem here, Betty Lou?"

She shook her head, sizing Drake up. "No, just some whiny-ass Karen griping about his dick."

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

Several moments later, Alyssa and Riley exited an Uber and wandered into the waiting area, making their way up to the triage line -- or what they thought was a line. It was actually Drake still standing there, continuing to protest his case to anyone who would listen and demanding to speak to someone in charge.

While Riley dug through her purse to retrieve her health insurance card, Alyssa couldn't help but be taken in by the fiery debacle taking place in front of them. She inched a little closer, unable to help herself; it was good drama and sucked her right in.

Catching a glimpse of Drake’s sour face, she cocked her head introspectively; there was something oddly familiar about the man in the denim shirt going off. Alyssa tapped her chin. Where have I seen him before?

Before long, the realization set in, and her eyes snapped wide open. She nudged Riley with an elbow and leaned over, whispering, "Hey, isn't that the guy from the news who had the penis transplant? It looks just like him."

Knowing precisely who that was by the description, Riley popped her head up to look. She hadn't known Drake well, only that he was Liam's best friend, and after having spent time together on the plane ride to Cordonia with him, that her maid-of-honor had given him several venereal diseases. "Drake?" she called out.

While Alyssa zoned in on his groin, curious as to what was in there, Drake broke away from the dispute and turned his focus toward the familiar-sounding voice. She was a connection to home and a long-sought-after friendly face. "Riley? Liam's insta-bride, Riley?"

She let out a light chuckle and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose that's how you would know me ... What are you doing at the hospital? Is your body rejecting the ..." Her embarrassed gaze dropped lower with a gulp. " ... thing?"

"No!" he barked. "I just got attacked by that ... uh, someone."

"You got attacked?" Shocked, Riley placed a hand over her chest. "Why would someone attack you? Are you okay?"

Feeling incensed by the memory, Drake shook his head and muttered. "It's a long story ... What about you? What are you doing here? Thought you were in Cordonia with Liam?"

She inhaled a deep breath through her nostrils and forced a smile. "It's a long story too."

Drake peeked over his shoulder at Nurse Ratchet, giving him a gimlet-eyed stare from behind her computer screen. He groused and turned to face Riley again. "I've got time."

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

Nearly 12 hours after takeoff, the royal jet touched down in sunny Las Vegas, an hour ahead of schedule. Liam and Leo stepped off the plane and strolled across the tarmac to the awaiting vehicle, where a smiling man held the rear passenger door open.

"Bastien," Liam greeted as he approached. "Good to see you again."

"Your Majesty." He bowed. "Likewise ... I have the rental car you requested, and the Queen's address is already programmed into the GPS. Should take no more than 30 minutes to get there."

"Perfect,” he replied, clapping Bastien’s shoulder.“Thanks for having everything ready to go."

Liam had contacted the head guard -- who was still jailed for non-support -- and gained him a day-long pass to provide security detail. Bastien was also to stay in contact with his guards to oversee the capture and detainment of Madeleine.

Bastien took their bags, and the brothers hopped into the back of the Escalade. Once they pulled away from the airport, the directions led the group west. The head guard glanced briefly in the rearview mirror as he drove on. “I want to thank you for giving me a second chance. It’s nice to be out of that place, even if just for the day.”

Liam smiled back. “Not a problem, good man. I can’t think of anyone else I trust more for the job than you … though I’m not sure why. Anyway, do you have any updates on the Madeleine situation?”

“Yes, sir. I contacted my colleagues again just before you arrived. Countess Madeleine was taken by surprise when our guards arrived at her family estate in Krona. Once in custody, she was immediately transported to Valtoria for detention, exactly as you requested.”

"That's terrific news ... Wait ...Did you say, Valtoria?" Liam asked with puzzlement in his tone.

"Yes, sir. As you requested."

"Man, please tell me Mads tried to fight them off, and they had to use the taser on her," Leo insisted as he held his crossed fingers in the air. "A billy club ... a rubber hose ... something."

"There may have been a brief verbal exchange and some threats, but the Countess promised if they permitted access to her computer to send a quick email, she would go with them peacefully and without further protest. There didn't seem to be any harm in doing so, and she followed through with her word. Sorry to break it to you, Prince Leo, but no tasers were harmed in her capture."

"Well, fiddle shit." Leo glanced over at his brother --who was still scratching his head -- in disappointment. "If only I'd been able to get that shock collar on her while I was engaged to her, you wouldn't be in this mess right now. She just squirmed too much. I’m sorry I let you down, little brother."

"It's fine, Leo; it's not the first time,” Liam said dryly before turning his head away from Leo to face the front again. "Can we get back to Madeleine being taken to Valtoria? I never requested that. An accused of the Crown is always placed in the palace dungeon. There aren't even cells in Valtoria to hold her in. What am I missing here?"

Approaching a stoplight, Bastien lightly pressed the brakes, then met Liam’s gaze in the mirror. “The orders I was given to pass along to the guards from you earlier were clear in your text: Once she’s taken into custody, she is to be sent to Valtoria and placed in the cage with the monkey until further notice. That’s what they --”

“Mongo! They put her in the cage with Mongo?” Liam exploded before pinching the bridge of his nose, knowing there was no point in asking how that message got mixed up. “Goddamn it, Leo! Why are you, you, sometimes?” He ran a swift hand down his face and turned to glare at his brother. “Do you realize they consider that cruel and unusual punishment? Did you ever stop to consider how much shit I'm going to hear over this if this gets out?" He let out a sharp breath and threw his hands in the air."How? How did you do it?"

"It's simple pimple, Liam. When you went to the bathroom, I grabbed your phone," he replied bluntly with a shrug. "And according to page 24 of Father's torture book: It's not considered cruel and unusual punishment, as long as she has food, water, and clean shelter -- which she does. Or ... if she's housed with a member of the royal family -- which she is. Mongo is the heir to the throne, so we've got that covered too. So just relax, little bro; Leo’s got it all taken care of for you."

Liam dropped his chin to his chest, then let out a weary breath. “Bastien, call the guards and have them move her to the palace at once.”

As Bastien placed the call, Liam shifted in his seat so that he was staring out the window. He put a palm over his mouth to conceal the curved lips that formed a devilish grin, trying to contain the unbearable urge to bust out laughing. Oh, Maddie ... I hope you and Mongo had one hell of a time together.

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

Back at the hospital, Riley situated herself on the gurney while a nurse prepared to check her vitals and ask general health questions.

In the next bay over, separated by a thin sliding curtain, Drake was finally attended to after Riley reluctantly, but willfully, played up her celebrity status. Once she threatened to have the hospital shut down -- which she doubted was even possible on her end -- the proverbial red carpet was rolled out for both of them; she was still a queen, afterall.

Steps were then taken to ensure they both received the royal treatment, so to speak. That wasn’t typically how Riley preferred to handle situations; she hated big fusses over her. But in the end, she did help one of Liam’s oldest friends finally get the medical attention he needed, so it was worth trying.

The blood pressure cuff on Riley’s arm squeezed tighter just as one of the doctors stepped inside and slid the curtain all the way closed. His cheerful greeting drew Riley's fixed gaze away from the changing numbers on the monitor beside her bed, and she smiled up at him.

The doctor was tall and thin, with thick spectacles perched near the tip of his nose. He gave a brief nod to Alyssa, who was sitting in a chair at Riley’s bedside, rubbing her shoulder. Scanning the patient chart, he spoke without looking up, "Queen Riley, it says here you suffered a fall?"

"I'm just Riley, please," she requested.

The doctor looked up from the paperwork and nodded with an understanding smile. "Of course."

After the initial exam concluded, Alyssa remained behind after the doctor ordered x-rays and transport had wheeled Riley down to radiology.

Bouncing her crossed leg as she scrolled through her phone, Alyssa tried to bide her time until Riley returned. An air conditioning vent overhead that she didn’t realize drowned out so much noise around her, suddenly flipped off. Able to catch the conversation on the other side of the curtain better, she listened with a broken heart as Drake reluctantly described to an attending, the worst days of his life. Alyssa shuddered as he recalled the moment his penis fell off, rolled across the bed, and dropped onto Ethan Ramsey’s leather shoe during an exam. “That poor man. I just want to hug him,” she muttered.

Her little ears perked when the doctor mentioned he was “going to have a look at it.” In her curious mind, there were no doubts that she was too. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to take a peek at the first transplant of its kind; no way was she going to miss out on that.

Alyssa slid to the edge of her seat and raised her hand to up to the curtain, easing a tiny portion of it aside. Her blue eyes crinkled with frustration at a nurse who was blocking her view. “Move your ass,” she whispered to herself.

Unable to get a good view, she gave up that spot and eyed the other opening in the curtain at the far end of the room. Sliding off her chair to a crouching position on the floor, Alyssa crab-walked as fast as she could without falling off balance until she made it to the other side. Crooking a stealthy finger along the seam of the curtain, she hoped and prayed Drake’s genital exam wasn’t through yet. What her eyes saw on that gurney when she pulled the fabric aside caused her heart to jolt out of her chest.

Alyssa cupped a hand over her gaping mouth before stepping back and letting the curtain fall loosely shut again. Dropping her hand limply at her side, staring blankly at nothing, she mouthed, “Oh. My. God.”

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

Down in the radiology department, Riley sat patiently in her wheelchair, waiting for the tech to return to take the x-rays. Enjoying the lighter feeling of having an empty bladder again, she let out a contented sigh; she was about to bust earlier. That mandatory urine sample couldn’t have come at a more opportune time.

Left alone to ruminate in her thoughts, Riley wondered about those phone calls she ignored last night from Liam. The regret she felt over her actions the last 26 hours continued to mount up. And it took a heart-to-heart with her best friend to really put things into perspective. Her decisions weren’t the best course to take, even if they were done with the most loving of intentions.

There was a lot to make up to Liam, and she only hoped that it wasn’t too late. Could he even forgive her for all of it?

She wished he was there with her right now. If she knew him the way she thought she did, he’d be standing around telling inappropriate jokes to make her laugh or embarrass her with his silly antics. It was like Liam could be two different people sometimes: Kingly and stoic around everyone else, but the second it was just him alone with her, he was such a big kid. Somehow, she could bring out his true self; the one where he felt comfortable enough to be silly and playful. And as much as she tried to play them off, those little pet names he gave her -- she chuckled to herself as they popped into her head -- were funny. What the hell even was a knucklehead mcspazzatron?

“Miss Brooks” Riley shook herself of her thoughts as the x-ray tech returned and made her way over. “I apologize that took so long.”

Riley smiled up at her. “No need to apologize… Are you ready for me now?”

“Not exactly,” she teased in such a cheery tone, Riley slightly lowered her eyelids, holding her gaze. “You most likely won’t be getting x-rays today, sweetie.” She held a fisted hand out to Riley and opened her palm to reveal the small object inside. “You’re pregnant.”

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

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#fools rush in #liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #prince liam #the royal romance #trr #choices fanfiction #bbrandy2002

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theotherhufflepuff · 3 years

Text

Simon Snow Trilogy Tarot Cards...

Ok so, a little while ago I saw this frankly stunning artwork by @vkelleyart and I started thinking about the Major Arcana archetypes and how characters from my favourite book series could fit into them.

So I made this list. It took a lot of thought and I’m still not 100% sure on some of them but I have explained my thought process for each card.

I don’t know how much crossover there is in the Venn diagram of “Simon Snow fans” and “tarot readers” but I’d love to hear your opinions and/or alternative suggestions (be respectful though, obviously). I’ve left “visual prompts” for most of the cards explaining what they looked like in my imagination and if anyone wants to draw any of these (or their own alternative version!) please tag me; it would make my day! I can’t draw for toffee so I am 1000% never gonna try to illustrate any of them myself.

List under the cut because it is loooong.

Spoilers ahead for the whole series!

0 The Fool - Shepard - Shepard just follows magickal creatures around and says “yes” to everything... he is the pure embodiment of the Fool archetype to me; care-free, innocent... prepared for everything and yet totally clueless. Visual prompt: Shepard about to (attempt to) step into the fog as he follows a fairy into the forest.

1 The Magician - Penelope - “Penelope Bunce is a fierce magician, I don’t mind saying” Baz, at least once in each book. Penny never worries about not having the power or words available to do whatever she wants; she is comfortable in her power and it is always there, ready to be wielded however she sees fit. Visual prompt: Penny wearing her Stevie Nicks cape, standing by a chalkboard in the classic “Magician” pose, ring clearly held aloft.

2 The High Priestess - Dr Mitali Bunce - Dr Bunce is possibly a more formidable magician than her daughter. Highly intelligent, straightforward and, let’s be honest, judgemental. But she does have all the answers. Visual prompt: Dr Bunce carrying around her laptop, phone sandwiched between her ear and her shoulder.

3 The Empress - Lucy Salisbury - Lucy exudes the nurturing, Earth Mother vibes that are central to the Empress archetype. She saw the best in everyone and all she wanted was to love Davy and live with him in their cottage with her chickens and their child. Visual prompt: Lucy, barefoot and pregnant, feeding the chickens outside of their cottage.

4 The Emperor - Lamb - This is one of the ones I’m not totally sure about. I went through a few different ideas but ultimately settled on Lamb as the “Vampire King of Las Vegas”. He is an imposing figure, ruling his city with an iron fist; if you are in his favour, Vegas is your playground, but cross him and you will suffer the consequences. Visual prompt: Lamb sits on an antique chair in his opulent suite at the Katherine, the lights of night time Vegas visible through the window behind him.

5 The Hierophant - The Mage - Again, this one took some thought and I’m sure some people will disagree with this interpretation... I’m not completely sold on it myself. The Mage was all about reforming the old traditions of the World of Mages and he amassed a following by doing so. But he turned out to be somewhat of a false prophet; abusing his power to oppress those he deemed “the enemy”. Visual prompt: The Mage in his Robin Hood costume, sitting at his desk at the top of the Weeping Tower, surrounded by his piles of banned books.

6 The Lovers - Simon and Baz - Obviously. As stated at the top of this post, I love @vkelleyart’s version of this card, but there are a lot of scenes across the series that could be used to illustrate this archetype. I personally always love to see the original “and then he kisses me” scene.

7 The Chariot - Fiona Pitch - I struggled with this one a bit and I don’t really think that this is the ideal version. But the image of Fiona, rolling up to Blackfriars bridge in her vintage sports car to rescue Baz from the Numpties really stuck with me so that’s what I went with, for lack of a better idea.

8 Strength - Ebb - Ebb is often dismissed and underestimated by other magicians but she is wicked powerful. But more than that, the Strength card is about inner strength, self control and the wisdom to know when to fight, and when to rest. Ebb is highly intuitive about the people - and goats - around her and is always careful not to talk about her twin brother, only conceding that she knows of his presence once a year and never giving in to the temptation to talk directly to him. Ebb saw the war coming and knew that she could probably end it all by herself with the power she had; but she also knew that she didn’t want that and she had the strength to say no, to eschew the expectations the rest of the World of Mages placed upon her and live quietly, instead. Visual prompt: Ebb in the hills behind the school with the goats, she wears a flower crown that the Dryad made her.

9 The Hermit - Agatha - the Hermit eschews the outside world in order to take an inner journey of self discovery, knowing that this is the only way to find real answers and achieve real growth. Agatha, jaded by the World of Mages, took herself off to California, leaving her wand at home. She didn’t know what she wanted but she knew it wasn’t magic. Visual prompt: Agatha sits on the beach at twilight by a small campfire, Lucy the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel by her side.

10 The Wheel of Fortune - The Crucible - The Crucible’s decisions, like the Wheel’s, are unpredictable and inevitable. Once it’s happened, you’re stuck with the consequences - sometimes bad (being stuck with a toff vampire who hates you) and sometimes good (getting the best room in Mummers house).

11 Justice - Natasha Grimm-Pitch - Natasha needed justice to find peace; her whole story is about justice. She was swift to act when the vampires attacked Watford, dispatching them without hesitation. When she came through the veil to find Baz and ask him to bring her murderer to justice, she knew that would also provide some closure for him, too, both for her death, and for his. Visual prompt: Natasha Grimm-Pitch appearing from beyond the veil, looking for Baz and finding Simon.

12 The Hanged One - Nicodemus - The Hanged One is about feeling stuck, but also about finding peace where you are when there’s nothing you can do about it. Nicodemus chose to cross over for eternal life, but he was stricken from the book; his (considerable) magic effectively taken from him and his fangs removed. He was stuck in between - not a full vampire, not a magician; he exists on the fringes of both communities. He got himself there and then he had to figure out how to get by, carve out a place for himself in order to survive. Visual prompt: Nicodemus sits in the tree in the garden of his mother’s house in South London, waiting for Ebb to come and sit on the empty bench beneath him.

13 Death - [scene on the Great Lawn] - Ok, so.. this might need some explaining. My immediate thought for this card was that it should be the Humdrum but Death is all about clearing out the old junk in your life that doesn’t serve you in order to make space for the new. And the Humdrum isn’t making space for anything. So I was thinking about times that has happened in the story and I thought about how the death of the Mage made room for real progress and an end to the war with the old families. Visual prompt: Penny and Baz (literally) run into a fleeing Agatha on the Great Lawn; the Weeping Tower looms in the background, the Mage and Simon visible through the blown-out stained glass windows.

14 Temperance - Simon and the Humdrum - Temperance is, as you might expect, about balance and harmony. Simon used so much magic at once that he couldn’t control it and it tore holes in the magickal atmosphere. Simon had to fill the Simon-shaped hole to restore equalibrium and stop the magickal firmament from collapsing altogether. Visual prompt: Simon kneeling in the Weeping Tower, pouring his magic into the Humdrum as he fades away.

15 The Devil - Smith Smith-Richards - The Devil is about feeling trapped by temptations in your life, often because we’re afraid of what we would do with the freedom we’d have if we let them go. Which got me thinking about Smith-Richards (that name never gets any less ridiculous) and all the magicians who were taken in by the temptation of “fixing” their magic. But it was a false promise and those magicians who narrowly escaped taking Smith-Richards’ spell were all freed from the idea of their magic being “broken” in the first place. Visual prompt: Smith-Richards (looking like the guy who would be cast to play Simon in the Netflix series) standing on a stage in the packed-out White Chapel, rapt audience hanging on his every word.

16 The Tower - The Humdrum - Originally I wanted to use the Weeping Tower for this card because the imagery is on point but the meaning doesn’t match. The Tower is about absolute destruction, the crumbling of something you thought core to your being. The Humdrum steals magic and renders magicians homeless because of it. The Tower is about having to start again from the ground up - just as the Grimms did when all the magic was drained from Hampshire. Visual prompt: The Humdrum, wearing Simon’s face, stands in the grounds of Pitch Manor, laughing. (I have always thought of the holes looking like a burn in a piece of paper - sort of glowing and smouldering at the edges as it eats away the atmosphere. I know the holes can’t actually be seen - the Normals would freak out - but that is imagery I would use here)

17 The Star - Lady Ruth’s candles - The Star is about hope and healing after the devastation of the Tower. Lady Ruth’s candles were a symbol of hope that kept her going when she thought she had lost her children. They provided comfort and, at the end when it became clear the Lucy was gone, the healing of knowing that her child had finally found his way home to his family. Visual prompt: Lady Ruth’s candles in front of a window, a bright star can be seen through the window.

18 The Moon - Agatha and Simon - So, the Moon is all about examining blurred lines between illusion and reality - nothing looks totally clear in the moonlight. It reminded me of how Simon never really seemed to have a clear view of his feelings for Agatha and what their relationship was. When he properly examined his feelings, he found that he didn’t love Agatha and was going through the motions because he thought it was what other people expected of him. Agatha was doing the same. It also brought to mind Simon, going out of his mind worrying about Baz when he was missing - as well as basically every other thought Simon ever has about Baz before Christmas Eve 2015 - and somehow mistaking it for hating him?? Simon is not stupid but sometimes he’s real dumb. Visual prompt: Agatha and Simon meet on the ramparts, both looking for Baz, and break up.

19 The Sun - Simon - This card is all about innocence, optimism and joy. Nothing about this series personifies this more than Simon flying above Shepard’s truck in America, feeling free and hopeful about the future for the first time in over a year. Visual prompt: Shepard’s truck drives through the vast empty desert, the sun beating down. Simon flies above the truck, joy on his face.

20 Judgement - Niamh and Agatha - Ok, this one was hard to figure out and this is maybe not the right solution, but I was very stuck. Judgement is about self improvement through self reflection. As a small twist on that theme; Niamh and Agatha challenge each other’s view of themselves and their interactions with the world around them. Visual prompt: Agatha and Niamh, sweating to death in Niamh’s “shitty Ford Fiesta” (I’m very salty about that line; my Ford Fiesta is lovely and it has aircon). Niamh is frowning, obviously.

21 The World - Simon, Baz, Penny and Shepard - The World is about completeness, the ending of a story, fulfilment and belonging. At the end of AWTWB, Simon has finally found his biological family, he is starting to accept that his boyfriend and his found family love him for who he is, magic or no, and he can finally start to imagine a future for himself. Baz has learned new information about his vampirism, Penny has found new confidence and Shepard is finally fully accepted into the group. Visual prompt: Baz, Penny and Shepard sit on Simon’s sofa (possibly still pink from Baz’s spell, possibly he spelled it navy blue again) Simon sits on the floor. They’re all eating leftover sandwiches and cake from Lady Ruth’s.

#carry on #carry on rainbow rowell #rainbow rowell #simon snow #simon snow trilogy #wayward son #any way the wind blows #awtwb #tarot #tarot cards #major arcana #baz pitch #Penelope Bunce #shepard love #snowbaz

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iam93percentstardust · 3 years

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A very happy birthday month to you! I’m a fan of your Stony fics. If you’re still taking prompts, could you do one with a Las Vegas backdrop? Maybe Steve’s first time there with Tony for some reason? I was supposed to have my first trip there ever but Covid cancelled it. Maybe at least they can have a happy ending there. 🙂

Thank you! I’m glad you’re enjoying the Stony fics!

So sorry your Las Vegas trip was cancelled, that’s really awful. I sort of went to Vegas once (it was a layover in the airport). The only thing I remember about the whole thing was the 5 bajillion slot machines in the airport terminals

Since I know so little about Vegas, I ended up going with the getting married in Vegas trope instead of something about the casinos. I also hope you don’t mind that I used this for my bingo square, but I saw the happy ending part in your ask and got inspired for my happily ever after square (details below the cut)

Here’s to Las Vegas

The day after Steve gets married, he wakes up in a Las Vegas hotel with a ring on his finger and Tony Stark snuggled up beside him.

Most days, Steve wakes up the second his alarm goes off, alert and ready for his run. This day, however, he drifts into wakefulness slowly, comfortably lying on his back. He’s warm and there’s a heavy weight on his stomach and chest, pressing him down into sheets that feel so much nicer on his bare skin than the ones he has at home. That’s the second thing he notices: he’s not wearing any clothes, not even the boxer-briefs he normally wears in lieu of pajamas. And the third thing he notices is that there’s something soft tickling his chin.

He slowly blinks his eyes open. He’s somewhere with high vaulted ceilings and an expensive-looking chandelier, which means it’s not Tony’s place (he thinks chandeliers are tacky) and it’s definitely not Steve’s (he can’t afford a chandelier). Whatever it is on his chest shifts and Steve looks down. Tony is draped across him, the top of his head tucked under Steve’s chin, their arms and legs tangled together. He’s breathing deep and even, still asleep even though sunlight is pouring through the window.

Steve smiles at the sight and raises his head enough to kiss Tony’s curls. He doesn’t often get to wake up with Tony. Steve lives in Brooklyn and Tony lives in Manhattan and they’re both so busy—Tony with SI’s R&D and Steve with his teaching—that they decided early on in their relationship that spending every single night together was a bad idea because one of them would always end up late to work. So this makes for a nice change.

Tony stirs, inhaling deeply. Steve brings his hand up to stroke over Tony’s hair, the way he likes it when they both have a rare day when neither of them have to be anywhere so they can spend the night. That’s when he sees it.

The ring.

The one that’s sitting on the ring finger of his left hand, exactly where it should be—except he’s not supposed to be wearing it for another week.

In the sleepy haze of waking up, he’d forgotten what they’d done last night but the memories are filtering in. Flashes of Tony excitedly talking him into finding a chapel and wrangling a couple witnesses from off the street and filing the marriage license a whole week early because both of them were more than tired of the wedding planning, the swell of emotions he’d felt at hearing Tony declared his husband and sweeping Tony off his feet and back to their hotel, kissing the whole way and probably scandalizing their Uber driver.

He groans and tips his head back against the pillows. Tony makes a low sound and yawns widely before slowly opening his eyes. He looks a little like an adorable kitten and Steve can’t resist kissing the top of his head again.

“Wuzzgoinon?” Tony mumbles sleepily.

“What’s going on,” Steve says, “is that your mother is going to kill us. No, she’s going to kill me, because you’re her darling angel who can do no wrong and she’s never once thought I’m good enough for you.”

“No, you’re better,” Tony says around another yawn. “Why is my mama going to kill you?”

Steve picks up Tony’s left hand and waves it in front of his face. Tony goes cross-eyed trying to make out what’s different about his hand. “Oh,” he says eventually and lays his head back down on Steve’s chest.

“Oh?” Steve asks. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“If Mama didn’t want us to elope, she shouldn’t have sent us to Vegas by ourselves to pick up the rings,” Tony says, as though he’s pointing out something reasonable, even though this is the most absurd thing that’s ever happened in Steve’s entire life—and his best friends are Bucky and Sam. Those two are the very definition of absurd. “Everyone knows what happens in Vegas.”

“This is your fault,” Steve informs him. “If you hadn’t insisted on this particular jeweler—”

“Hmm maybe I was planning this,” Tony hums, closing his eyes again.

And that’s… that’s actually entirely possible. Ever since they got engaged, Tony has been complaining about the big white wedding Mrs. Stark wants them to have and threatening to steal Steve away to the courthouse to elope. Steve had thought he’d calmed down about the whole affair after Mrs. Stark’s tearful outburst about her just wanting her baby to have the perfect wedding (Tony is nothing if not his mama’s boy), but maybe he’d been planning on this instead. He had thought it odd when Tony had insisted on a small-name jeweler in Las Vegas who wouldn’t ship to New York, thereby forcing them to travel to pick up the rings, but if Tony had been planning this all along…

“Did you?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Tony stares up at him for a long moment, blinking. Then he dryly says, “Yes, Steve. I, who has never made a decision that wasn’t impulsive even once in my entire life, somehow managed to both plan out a trip to Vegas to get married and keep it a secret from the love of my life who knows everything I’m thinking before even I know it.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Steve says, grinning at him. What they’ve just done hits him and he laughs giddily. He sits up, pulling Tony up with him to give him a closed-mouthed good morning kiss. “We’re married.”

Tony smiles happily and kisses him again. “Yeah, we are. Good morning, Mr. Stark-Rogers.”

He likes the sound of that. He really likes the sound of that. Another kiss. “What are we going to tell everyone?” he asks.

“Hmm. How about we got so caught up in the thrill of picking up the rings that we abandoned all reason and got married here? It’s not like the big white wedding my mama wants even really matters in the grand scheme of things. It’s the marriage license that counts.”

“She’s still going to want it.”

“Undoubtedly. And we’ll give it to her. But this is nice, isn’t it?” Tony peers up at him anxiously. “No fuss, no caterers with ten different meal plans for all the restrictions, no Great-Auntie Mildred who shouts for the minister to speak louder. No stress at all.”

Steve leans back against the headboard, thinking about it. Tony’s right. They dealt with a lot less stress by getting married this way. But it isn’t just Great-Auntie Mildred that they left behind, it’s their friends too. It’s hard to know how he feels about that.

But then he starts thinking about the wedding picture the photographer had handed them before they left the chapel last night. Steve had tucked it into his wallet for safekeeping, and he reaches over to the bedside table to grab it, pulling the photo out so he can look at it. It’s a picture of their kiss. They’re holding onto each other so tight he’s not sure a piece of paper would fit between them, smiling so broadly that it’s barely a kiss at all. And he thinks about the engagement pictures Mrs. Stark had sent out in the announcement and wedding invitations: poised and perfect and not a smile to be seen anywhere.

“Yeah,” he says eventually, pulling Tony against his chest. Tony snuggles in, warm and beautiful and all Steve’s. “This was pretty damn perfect.”

Tony sighs contentedly and presses a kiss right over Steve’s heart. “Good.”

“But your mother’s still going to kill me.”

“We just won’t tell her,” Tony replies dismissively. “We’ll get married again and we won’t have to worry about the wedding because we’ll know we’re already married.”

“She’s going to notice the rings.”

“Not if we spend the whole week here.”

Steve stills. He hadn’t thought of that. It would solve a lot of problems, not least that Mrs. Stark would finally have free reign to do whatever she wanted with the wedding without any input from either of them. She was doing anyway, but at least now, they don’t have to hear about how their small family affair has turned into the society event of the year.

Tony continues in a wheedling voice, “Call out all our friends, treat it like an extended bachelor party—or our first honeymoon, take your pick.”

Steve stops him right there with another kiss, lingering this time. “And what are we going to do on our first honeymoon?”

“Blow all our money on slot machines. Count cards at the poker table. Go see some really truly ridiculous shows,” Tony says with a shrug. “What everyone does when they’re in Vegas.”

“Hmm somehow I don’t think counting cards is what everyone does.”

“I suppose everyone didn’t grow up with Ana Jarvis,” Tony muses. Steve laughs because it’s true. Howard might think that Tony is a troublemaker all on his own, but everyone knows that Tony learned it from the best.

He’s distracted out of his thoughts by Tony picking up his hand and gently kissing his wedding ring. “It’s the first day of the rest of our lives, darling,” Tony murmurs. “We can do whatever we want.”

Details for @tonystarkbingo

Title of Fill: Here's to Las Vegas Collaborator: iam93percentstardust Card Number: 4012 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29676711 Square Filled: A3 - Free Square Ship/Main Pairing: Stevetony Rating: T Major Tags/Warnings/Triggers: Established Relationship, Fluff, Marriage Summary: The day after Steve gets married, he wakes up in a Las Vegas hotel with a ring on his finger and Tony Stark snuggled up beside him. Word Count: 1558

#alle writes #alle answers #stevetony #if you like please consider reblogging #mistyendings #tsbmiv

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 1 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer meets a girl he can't get enough of at the nightclub, then quickly realizes she is not supposed to be there.

A/N: This work deals with a lot of dark themes. There will be imperfect characters, and they will make mistakes. If you are sensitive, please read each chapter's content warnings carefully and alert me if I am missing any.

This work is undergoing heavy edits. Thank you for your patience!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: NSFW, 18+ Series Content Warnings: Adults w/ Age Difference (10yr), heavy petting, drinking Word Count: 4.4k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

—————————————————

There are many reasons to come to a nightclub. For some, it's an excuse to find someone to kill their loneliness. For others, it's a chance to escape themselves. I wasn't sure which I was more of that night. All I knew was that I was ready for something, anything to break the monotony.

The pulsing bass reverberated through the floor, and I let it take me somewhere else for a while. I let myself get lost in the crowd of other regrettable people, and I allowed my body to move on instinct, to move to the music without much thought.

It was my birthday, as evidenced by the giant sash my friends insisted on me wearing. If anyone were to ask, I had just turned 21. But, truthfully, I still had another year to go before then.

The strangest part about it was that I wasn't usually the kind of person to make a habit out of breaking the rules. At least, not anymore. But something about the last year had made me stir crazy in a way I couldn't explain.

I could've thought harder about it; I could've found a reason. But I didn't want to.

So, I said, fuck it! Everything happens for a reason, right?

The thought perfectly coincided with a pair of pensive eyes that caught my attention through the sea of people I was surrounded by. A man somehow unlike the others was leaning against the bar, seemingly alone. I thought that it was strange, considering how out of place he seemed. Surely, I thought, he must have come with someone else.

But the way he was looking at me told me that, in the very least, he probably wasn't there with a woman. At least, I'd hoped not.

I almost went to him, but I was stopped by a familiar tapping on my shoulder. My friend was calling my attention to the suddenly relatively empty stage, and not before long she was begging me to join her on it.

I'd never been the best dancer, but I figured it was as good a way as any other to try to get a cute guy's attention. After all, that's what you do in a club, right? As I climbed up with her, I tried to spot him once more. Unfortunately, by the time I gracelessly clambered onto the stage, he'd already moved from his previous position.

'Oh well,' I thought, 'Maybe he hadn't really been looking at me after all.'

Rather than sulking over the loss, I focused on the music again. I swayed my hips to the beat and closed my eyes. I let my hands run up and down my body the way I wished someone else's would. Not just anyone, though. Someone... different. Someone who might almost make me feel like they'd earned it.

I wondered if that strange man could still see me. I wondered if he was still looking.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but when I glanced back to the bar for the fifth time in a relatively short period of time, I finally spotted him again. Once he noticed me noticing him, he quickly turned around, and I knew it was my chance.

I scrambled down off the stage, leaving my friends to enjoy themselves among the writhing bodies and blistering heat. I wanted to enjoy a different primal experience.

Strutting right up to the bar next to him, I leaned over the counter and gave a brief, respectful wave to the bartender. Despite not breaking my gaze, I felt the hairs rose on the back of my neck.

I'd caught someone's attention. I didn't look, though. Not yet.

"Gin and tonic, please," I called when the bartender finally made his way over to me. Once he turned back around to make the drink, I knew it was a good time to look over at the stranger beside me.

Unsurprisingly, he immediately pretended he wasn't looking at me.

"Are you checking me out?" I asked just loudly enough that he would undoubtedly be able to hear me over the music.

His embarrassed reaction answered the question in the affirmative, although he unconvincingly insisted, "U-uh, no. No, I'm not."

"Oh," I responded, moving closer to him to prevent someone from separating us. "That's too bad."

He furrowed his eyebrows, and a small smile broke across his face as he asked, "Is it?"

"Well... Yeah," I laughed.

The way we locked eyes was a challenge, and one he seemed to only half accept. When he looked away from my eyes, it felt less like admitting defeat and more like taking me up on the offer to check me out.

He glanced down at my chest, and I moved from my position leaning against the counter to open my chest up for a better view.

"Can you see it well enough?" I teased with a slow gesture down the sash. I couldn't tell if his face was as red as it looked or if it was just the flashing lights playing tricks on me.

The bartender returned before he answered, and I handed him my change as a tip before holding the drink with my hand over the top. I might have been young, but I wasn't trying to get drugged in a club. I tried not to read into him noticing that habit.

"Happy birthday."

His offering seemed genuine, and this time, it was my face that turned burned. I hoped he didn't notice how flustered such an innocent thing made me, but I had a feeling he did.

"How old are you now?" he followed up, and I realized that I didn't really want him to know. Not the truth, anyway. Still, something about the way his eyes scanned every motion I made just made me feel like he could tell if I was lying.

"A year older than the last."

It wasn't a lie, after all, and he seemed to think it was funny. Behind me, a person was struggling to fit into the crowd at the bar. The somewhat unwelcome result was pushing me closer to the stranger I was quickly becoming acquainted with. But thankfully, when he reached out, he did so respectfully. His grip on my arm was gentle, but enough to stabilize my obviously struggling self.

"Thanks," I said with a bit of a laugh, trying not to seem dramatically inexperienced at this scene. "I'm not used to wearing heels."

He seemed so comfortable despite the chaos. So paradoxically confident yet timid.

"What's your name?" I asked, and he was more than happy to respond.

"Dr. Spencer Reid."

Something was so charming about the way he kept his honorific, which would usually have been irritating. He didn't seem to want to brag about it. He'd just announced it like it was a deeply ingrained aspect of his identity.

"Doctor? You seem pretty young for that," I playfully noted. Not that I was bothered by the prospect of an older man. I sipped on my drink as I waited for a bit of clarification, and his eyes continued to flit back to my lips every couple of syllables.

"Well, if you're talking about a Doctor of Medicine, I'm 30, which is actually the average age a person would be when they complete their residency. But most people with MDs will call themselves doctors after they graduate, so really, I wouldn't be too young at all."

I nodded along as he spoke, wondering if this kind of information dump was common for him. It was... kind of endearing.

Before I could get a word in edgewise, he continued to clarify, "But I'm not that kind of doctor. I have three PhDs; mathematics, chemistry, and engineering. I also have a BA in psychology as well as sociology."

I waited another second to make sure he was finished, and also because I was suddenly feeling quite intimidated. His strange socialization method made sense with his PhD subjects, and the bachelor's explained why he was so observant.

Something told me he didn't need to be told he was impressive.

"What about you? What's your name?" he finally asked, and I realized I never told him my name.

"(Y/n). No honorifics, unfortunately. Not yet."

"(Y/n)," he smiled, repeating it back to me and adding, "It's a nice name."

Uncomfortable talking about myself in light of the foregoing, I opted for a different topic.

"You don't seem like this is your first time in a club."

"Yeah, it's not. I have to go to them occasionally for work. I also grew up in Vegas, so they were kind of... everywhere," he chuckled.

When he raised his glass to his lips, I noticed that the distinct lack of color to his. I didn't mention it. There were so many reasons someone would prefer water, assuming that's what it was, including the basic desire to not be hung over the next day.

"What kind of work regularly takes you to a nightclub?"

I was genuinely curious, but I wouldn't get the answer. At the same time I asked the question, I felt a very strong pressure digging into my arm and yanking me away from the bar.

"Hey there beautiful, why'd you leave the dance floor?"

I didn't even recognize the very drunk man slurring the question to me. He looked like every other generic, idiotic brute that I had encountered through the night.

"Because I don't want to fucking dance with you," I answered as matter-of-factly as I could while seeing nothing but white-hot rage.

I could see Spencer's demeanor change, like he was about to do something. I shot him a warning glance that this was not his fight, and was pleasantly surprised that he'd respected it. I had gotten quite comfortable with this part of being out on the town.

"Come on, don't be like that," the man barked.

I pulled my arm away. Half of my drink sloshed onto the sticky floor below, but I didn't care. I wasn't going to be drinking it now, anyway.

"I said no," I said in a much louder voice, lifting my foot high enough for it to hurt when I drove the pointed heel directly into his foot. "And don't fucking touch me!"

Before I could throw what was left of my drink onto the asshole, I felt Spencer's much gentler touch. His arm wrapped around my waist as he stepped between me and the man and hurriedly guided me away from the guy and to a nearby table. As soon as I could reach it, I climbed onto a chair at the high top, rubbing my arm where it had begun to raise in welts from his nails.

"What a fucking dick!" I yelled, still fuming from the unwelcome contact.

In stark contrast, Spencer's very warm hand cupped my face, tilting it to look up at him.

"Are you alright?"

It felt like time stopped when he looked at me. Like the earth had halted in its tracks. My perception of the otherwise energetic music seemed to slow down, and the sounds of the crowd drowned away. I wasn't able to focus on anything other than the pounding of my heart and that tried to break through bone cages to find him.

'God, I must be drunk.'

"Hey, are you okay?" he repeated, and I finally snapped back to reality.

With a simple nod, I was suddenly no longer angry at the asshole who had caused the moment to happen.

"Yeah," I mumbled, "Thanks."

"Does that happen to you often?" he asked with a strange mixture of concerned and angry that honestly looked pretty damn attractive on him.

"Unfortunately. Most guys don't like being told they aren't your type. Especially if they aren't used to it."

"I wouldn't know," Spencer shrugged with a gentle laugh, "I'm pretty used to it."

A welcome bit of self-deprecating humor. He moved his hand, and I hated to admit that I'd already missed the warmth of it.

"Well, I don't know why you're used to it. I think you're pretty cute."

The statement was fueled by the alcohol, but it was still true. He wasn't joking about being used to a lack of desire. Seconds after I'd complimented him, he shifted uncomfortably. I tried not to read too far into it. I hoped it was how he would've responded to anyone.

"Thanks..." he started, shoving his hands in his pockets as he struggled to find something to do with them now that they weren't touching me. "But I feel like an asshole now."

I raised my eyebrows and chuckled at the strange response to a compliment.

"Why?"

"I uh, I lied to you earlier."

My attention piqued, I turned my body towards him and leaned forward to hear him better.

"Oh? To which question?"

He released a hand from his pocket, running it through his hair as he worked up the courage to look at me while he spoke.

"The... first one you asked."

I couldn't help but laugh. All of the air in my lungs was quickly drained by his absolutely endearing honesty. The way he just had to admit that he had been checking me out, as if I didn't already know.

"You are absolutely adorable, Spencer Reid."

He reacted much better to that compliment, although he seemed confused when I held my hand out for his.

"Come here," I instructed.

When he didn't listen, I reached my fingers out to grab his forearm and proceeded to tug him towards me. He took the few steps forward, and I took a moment to appreciate that his height granted me perfect access to his face from the high top.

I bit down on my lip as I glanced between beautiful eyes and his lips that parted softly. I heard his breath come faster the closer I came.

Without moving away, he asked, "What are you doing?"

While wondering if it was possible for him to do anything without being charming, I tightened my grip on his arm and looked up at him with the most lustful look I could muster.

"Well, I guess I'm going to kiss you. I hope that's alright."

"Why?" he asked.

An equally charming and maddening response, to which I just gave a small shrug. His eyes glanced back and forth, clearing trying to read between the lines of my own gaze. I let him. He didn't seem to have any follow up questions or reservations, so I used my free hand to pull his face to mine.

When our lips met, I was transported back to the dance floor in my mind. I could feel the vibrations shaking every inch of the club, but it was nothing compared to the butterflies erupting in my stomach. His hands returned to my face shortly after, and when his tongue slipped into my mouth it was the only confirmation that I got that he had also been drinking.

The taste of vodka and gin mixed, creating a cocktail of alcohol and hormones between us. A small moan escaped my lips at the thought, and part of me hoped he could feel it distinct from the bass. I wanted him to know the effect he had on me. Because, as it turned out, he wasn't just cute and smart, he was an incredibly talented kisser.

Not wanting to stop yet, I hooked a leg around the back of his knee and increased my hold on him. He lowered a hand to grab onto my thigh, and I gasped at the contact. I wondered if this was his first time making out in a club, because it was certainly mine.

Selfishly, I hoped I could be a first of something for him. Realistically, I knew it was unlikely. He was just too damn good at this.

Spencer began to retreat from the kiss, and before he could leave entirely, I bit down on his lower lip. The last, lingering contact seemed to have its desired effect, as he looked down at me like there was nothing else that he wanted more in this world than to keep kissing me.

"Was that a good enough reason?" I asked.

Instead of using words, he just kissed me again in response, with more pressure and less reserved. It was an answer I was more than happy to accept. His grip on my leg tightened, and it was nothing like the way other men grabbed me. When we broke apart this time, I knew it was time. I had to make my move.

"Come outside with me," I begged.

He seemed not to have expected any invitation, especially such a vague one. Nonetheless, he nodded and stepped back enough to let me hop out of the chair. His hand in mine, I led him through the crowd. He never let go. Not even when we got outside.

The air felt cool and crisp in comparison to the stuffy club. My ears were still ringing, and I wondered if we would sound the same to each other now that we weren't practically screaming. I let out a laugh from pure nerves, excited to be alone with him, but also not really ready to have this conversation.

Of course, he thought I was cute, but I was still a stranger. What if he wasn't actually all that interested and decided to ditch me? That would be embarrassing.

"Heeeeyyy! (Y/n)! How's it going?!" A familiar voice sounded from over by the smokers.

It wasn't one of my friends, per se. More like a friend of a friend. A very drunk and very excited acquaintance. I finally let go of Spencer's hand but glanced back to let him know to follow me over.

I stayed at a modest distance as I called back, "Hey, how's it going, John?"

"Goin' pretty fucking great," he slurred, and I laughed at how hammered he had managed to get in a couple of hours.

"Sounds like it."

"So, how's 20 treating you so far?"

Now, this is the point where I have to admit to myself and everyone else, that I am not the cleverest person. Because the question seemed so normal, and I was expecting it so much, that I seemed to have forgotten that I was not, in fact, old enough to be at this club.

So, without thinking, I responded, "Pretty fucking great."

To Spencer's credit, he didn't say anything, but I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull. It took me another second to realize what I had just admitted.

Fuck.

I was too scared to turn around. He seemed to know that I wasn't going to address it, and he wasn't the kind of person to make a scene. So when his hand grabbed mine again, and I felt the insistence in his grasp, I knew that I was utterly and completely fucked.

I grimaced to John, who just burst out laughing before yelling, "Oooh, jailbait got busted!"

My head fell backwards as I groaned, letting Spencer begin to drag me away from the crowd as I shouted back, "I'm not jailbait, you dick!"

Following the boy I actually wanted to be with, I tried not to give up hope yet. In a twisted sort of way, I was actually somehow looking forward to the lecture I was definitely about to receive. Seconds after we'd turned the corner into the small alley, he had me backed against a wall.

"What the fuck was that?!" his voice was hushed, although he was clearly still yelling.

I bit down on my lip to stop myself from laughing at his attempts to be scary when his voice was still cracking. I raised my shoulders to shrug, but he continued his ranting.

"You're only twenty?! You can't be here!"

"Well, actually, we're in an alley, which I'm totally allowed to be in."

He did not appreciate my humor.

"You know exactly what I mean. You're not old enough to be at a club, and especially not drinking! What were you thinking?"

He looked so delectable when he was angry, I wasn't sure how he'd expected me to take him seriously. Resting my head against the brick wall behind me, I looked up at him with a bored expression.

"What are you, a cop?"

I honestly wasn't anticipating a genuine response, so when he responded, "An FBI special agent, actually," all I could think was, "Oh shit, really?"

"Yeah, really, (y/n)!" he yelled back, taking a step back when my arms immediately fell from their defensive position.

"That's so cool!" I answered with equal enthusiasm, which he still, clearly, did not like.

"What are you saying? That is not cool! None of this is cool!"

"I mean, I think it's pretty cool."

"I could have you arrested! I should have you arrested!"

The way I raised my eyebrows and smiled was clearly not the reaction he wanted, but I could tell he was intrigued by it. He paused, and I licked my lips with a wicked grin.

"You gonna cuff me, Special Agent?"

I saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and he continued to distance himself from me. I took a step forward to maintain the gap.

"Wait, is it Special Agent or Doctor? I need to know now."

Before I could get too close to him, he had pressed his hand against my shoulder, pushing me back against the wall.

"Cut it out! Stop trying to distract me," his voice was stern, but his breath was ragged. One of my hands devilishly snuck up, wrapping around his arm that was holding me against the wall. "It's not going to work," he warned.

I didn't believe him. I could also tell that, despite the words, he did not want me to stop.

"How am I distracting you, Special Agent Dr. Reid?"

He could tell what I was doing, but he couldn't stop himself from falling for it.

"Is my proximity distracting you?"

I was pushing his buttons, very purposefully and with a very specific goal. I wanted to see what happened when he broke.

"N-No, that's not—"

I cut him off once more, leaning forward against his hand, dragging my nails against the skin of his arm.

"Do you want to kiss me again?" I asked.

He had to think about the answer, and that angry, tempted face left me burning. I rubbed my legs together in anticipation, and he seemed to notice the subtle movement. With the strength I could muster, I inched his hand against my shoulder lower, letting him feel my heart racing above my breast.

"You do," I responded to my own question, recognizing his silence as assent.

I met his eyes in another challenge, knowing this time would be much easier than the last. He was already hooked.

"Well then, Dr. Reid. You have at least two options. You can either dig out your work issued handcuffs, haul me downtown and explain what exactly happened between you and a drunk twenty year old girl at the club..." the pressure on my chest lessened as he obviously considered what it would require of him. "You can help them with all of the paperwork, prematurely ending the night, leaving me in a jail, and go home alone... "

The compassion in his eyes was clear, and I knew it was a bit unfair of me to go for such low hanging fruit. He was a good man. He was just trying to follow the rules. He didn't want to hurt me. Unless I asked for it, perhaps.

"Or you can get into an Uber with me to go somewhere else, and I'll let you do whatever you want with mine. Or yours. I'm fine with either."

"My pair, or my place?" he asked, much to my surprise and excitement. I could feel the rush of blood in my ears, but I begged it to be quiet. I hadn't closed the deal yet.

"So you're considering it?"

He finally released his hold on me, but he didn't move away. In fact, he moved closer. Close enough to me that I could almost feel the body warmth radiating from him. I couldn't look down yet, but I was pretty sure what I'd find bulging between his legs.

"I-I... I don't know."

An honest answer, albeit disappointing. My puppy eyes demanded a clearer one. He obeyed their call.

"I'm a law enforcement agent that just caught you in a crime, since I'm assuming you got into that club with a relatively convincing fake ID that I'm certain you still have on you."

I nodded, still unsure where he was going with this monologue.

"I should be arresting you, or at least taking you somewhere safe, not... coming back with you for..."

He trailed off, and I smirked a bit at his inability to finish that thought.

"And yeah, I figured you were young but... I'm ten years older than you."

"And?" I finally asked, wanting him to get to the point that I had figured out, just so I could turn it down.

Spencer took a deep breath before admitting, "I don't want to take advantage of you. I get that there is no sudden change in your brain when you turn twenty one, but the younger you are, the less developed your prefrontal cortex is. Your judgment, your impulse control, the ability to truly anticipate the consequences of your actions, that won't be fully developed for at least another five years!"

He would have kept going, but I had already planned for this response. My hand on his arm jerked him forward, pulling his crotch directly into my other waiting hand. Completely on brand for him, a small yelp sounded as I gently palmed his erection.

With an innocent smile, I whispered, "Dr. Reid, I don't think you're the one taking advantage here."

His features were contorted into an infuriated, yet pleased mess. After another very brief moment of contemplation, he gave into the temptation I was dangling in front of him, laying a deep, frustrated kiss on my waiting mouth.

When we separated, he practically panted into my mouth, "Do you have a hotel room?"

Giggling, I nodded.

"I guess I'll call that Uber now."

—————————————————

| Part 2 |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #request #smut

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anonsservice · 3 years

Text

Wake Up!

You had been getting night terrors since you were little. Anything would set them off back then. A stranger on the passing sidewalk who looked at you for a moment too long, the ladybug who had one too many spots, really, everything could have sent you down one nightmare after another. It got better in your teen years, but they still happened, still jolted you awake in a cold sweat, crying nine times out of ten. This is why you were reluctant to accept this slumber invitation. You really almost said no, but Jade had convinced you to go. After all, who would say no to an honest 'please' coming from the normally stone-cold gank.

Jade would have said no as well and just spent the night with you instead, but Cat was tearing up and going on a long-winded speech about how senior year was almost over and how college would separate you all. All of which led up to this moment. You were packing your small overnight bag. Clothes, deodorant, hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, etc., etc. Jade would pick you up and the two of you would face this horrid night together. You did in fact like spending time with Cat and Tori, but your nerves got to you and all you could think about was 'what if I have a stupid nightmare? Like a child! Wake up crying and ruin it for everybody.'

This is what caused you to stare at your shoes the whole ride over, only looking up when forcefully brought back to earth by Jade.

"What were you thinking about?"

"It's nothing, Jade. We should go in now, better get it over with-"

"Y/N were not leaving this car unti-" She was cut off by Cat bounding over from the front door of the Vega's house and over to your passenger side door.

"Hiii!" Cat yelled while twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

"I tried to stop her!" Tori yelled while following after her, panting.

Jade rolled her eyes and pointed her finger at you.

"We're talking about this later, Y/N. Now let's go, I got your bag."

Jade, You, Cat, and Tori all walked in together. Jade holding both of your bags. (whipped? more likely than you think.)

Cat was the first to jump onto one of the couches, sitting on the right couch, Tori followed her and sat next to her. You and Jade took up the left couch, you laying your head on her shoulder. And every time Cat or Tori sent an 'aww' look your way she snarled.

"So! we should start off with hmmm- oh oh I know! Truth or dare!" That was Cat, and she was buzzing with excitement. You could practically see the happiness seeping from her tone.

"What are we? Ten? No, Cat." Jade hated truth or dare, or well most times she did. It was only fun when it was in her favor of looking for gossip or stirring up drama.

You, however, were open to the game. Having played it growing up to pass time you didn't mind the small request from the red-headed girl.

"Cmon' Jadey! Please-" Cat tried to speak but Jade cut her off.

"No!" The one word Jade said multiple times a day. It seemed to be her only reaction to things.

You didn't want to see Cat sad or hear for that matter. Cat would start to cry and then all hell would happen, so you took things into your own hands.

"Jade, don't be rude! It's a sleepover! Just play the game, please. For me?" You sat up to look her in the eyes right as you said please. Crossing your eyebrows a touch and only slightly pouting your lips. A look you've perfected to get the girl sitting in front of you into a puddle.

Jade grumbled a 'fine' and the four of you played for an hour. One of the 'truths' being asked by Tori to Jade was "Is it true your whipped for Y/N?". It took you and Cat lots of tiring effort to pull Jade off Tori.

--------

It was two hours since the game. You four were now watching a movie and poking fun at the cliches, well you guys were until Jade reminded you all that every single one of you guys fit into one or another cliche. After a movie or two, you guys ate dinner and just talked until the time came for sleep. Tori slept in her bed, Cat, You, and Jade played a human game of Tetris and managed to fit on the floor

You tried to sleep, you did, but you just couldn't. So once you thought that everybody was asleep you grabbed your phone and scrolled endlessly through Twitter. An hour later and your eyes were getting more and more sensitive to the light, your arms slowly let go of your phone, and you fell asleep.

You woke up in school, you heard nothing but your ragged breath. Everything around you was blurred, and from what you could see there were thick layers of fog. You could make out the familiar bright student decorated lockers that lead you to find out you were in the school. You stepped forward but all you saw was the fog. You walked the familiar way to your favorite acting teacher's room. You walked forward through the classroom door until you almost tripped over something on the floor. You knelt down to get a closer look, but you wished you hadn't. You had thought you just tripped over a chair or miss placed item, but what you tripped on was far worse. It was jade. A bloody Jade. A dead Jade. Your heart stopped, and you stopped. All you could do was stare. You wanted to scream, to run, to hug her, to help her. But all you could do was stare. Eventually, it stopped. You leaned forward and grabbed onto Jade's shoulders.

"Jade?!" Your voice echoed as if in a cave.

"Jade!" You shook her and screamed and cried.

"What happened? Jade? Fuck! No no no!"

Her lips, looking both pale and blue but also a blood-red moved slightly, saying something.

Tears freely flowed down your face as you leaned in.

"Jade? What is it? Jade!"

No response.

You held her body close and cried, just cried. Although you heard a voice that only got louder.

"Wake up."

"Y/N."

"Wake up!"

You felt as if there was an earthquake and shut your eyes.

But once you opened them all you saw was black and blue hair that you knew to be Jade's. The same Jade that was just dead in your hands. Your arms flew around the familiar body and you held her close while your body shook in tears.

"cmon, Y/N. Up." She gripped your torse and helped you up from your makeshift sleeping bag on the floor to the living room.

You two sat on the couch, you were still crying, silently this time. And Jade was holding you. Long arms wrapped firmly around you, rubbing the small of your back. You weren't sure how long had passed since you woke from the horrible dream. but finally, your tears had dried and you pulled away from Jade.

"Wanna talk about it?"

You didn't. Not one bit. But you knew she would be ever so worried if you didn't. So you pulled it together and nodded.

"It was um a dream- well no- a nightmare."

Jade merely nodded along with every few words you said.

"I get really bad um nightmares, ever since I was little, that why I was in a bad mood when we arrived. Scared of doing what I just did."

"So what was this nightmare about?"

"You."

"oh?"

"I was uh in school, there was a fog, and uh I went to Mr.Sakowitz's room. You were there on the floor-" You started to tear up again. The image of your girlfriend on the floor flooding your mind once more.

"It's okay, Y/N."

"You were there on the floor... bloody, blue, and dead. And I wanted to scream I wanted to do something but I couldn't. All I could do was cry silently and stare. It was horrible Jade! Horrible!"

At this point, you were full-on crying again.

"Here how about this, you go wait in my car, I'll grab our things, and we can go to my house. Okay?"

"But I don't wanna impose- Cat was so happy for this."

"If you don't want to stay you don't have to, if they say anything about it I'll cut em up with my scissors. Okay? Now go," Jade fished through her purse that was thrown on the couch from earlier and handed them to you.

You took them and walked as quickly as you could to Jade's car that was parked out front.

After Jade climbed into the car and drove you back to her place, she made you tea, got out chips and other snacks, and took you down into what she likes to call her 'demon lair'.

You slowly sipped the hot tea while you pushed your body as far into Jade as it would go. You watched a silent film and slowly fell into a dreamless sleep.

Jade took your tea cup and put it on her side table, tucked you in, and held you close to her.

---------

The next morning you woke up to Jade staring at you. "You watching me sleep, spooky lady?"

She shook her head at you and pressed a kiss into your cheek. "Morning,"

You tried to kiss her on the lips but she pulled back. "Morning breath, Y/N!"

Your own face scrunched up and you sat up.

"Sorry," With that you went up the stairs and into the bathroom to brush your teeth.

Jade took the time to call Cat, who she assumed would be up by now.

"Hi, Jadey!"

"Don't call me that, Cat"

"Sowwy!"

"Don't baby talk me either Cat!"

"Anyways. I was calling to say I was sor- sorr- I can't do it- I just- we left early because Y/N's mom needed her and I drove her home. I just didn't come back because it was my chance to escape."

"Okee Dokie! Is Y/N's mom okay?"

"Yeah just, bye."

Jade hung up and turned round to see you smiling at the foot of your bed.

You and Jade ended up meeting back up with Tori and Cat for a day out.

A/N: Woah! me updating- at a semi-decent time? Who knew that was possible, I didn't. I also completely forgot the men in this show existed for a hot second and forgot to write them in. Oops? I only went through this once so- do with that as you will. That is all from me!

-tooth >:)

#jade west x reader #jade west #fluff #angst #fluff and angst #nightmare #night terrors #sleep over #comfort #x reader #gender netural reader #jade being whipped for the reader #victorious #i forgot the men #dreams #how do i write #help

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darthkruge · 4 years

Note

Hello! I'm kinda new to the whole tumblr thing so sorry if this request is bad but I was wondering if maybe you could do an imagine for spencer reid where the reader is Garcia's younger sister and Garcia brings her in to meet the team because it's her first day there. Maybe Reid recognizes her from somewhere and he will not leet it go until he finds out how he knows her? Btw it's totally fine if you don't get to this! :)

Spencer Reid x Reader ~ Piano

Summary: When a new agent joins the BAU, Spencer knows he’s seen them before but literally cannot figure out where. His memory having never failed him before, he doesn’t rest until he figures it out.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral! Reader; Penelope Garcia x Sibling! Reader

Words: 1973

Warnings: A little bit of language, I think that’s all?

A/N: Hey anon!! First off, don’t worry, love! I’m honestly new to this whole tumblr thing too, but I loved this request! I’m sorry I didn’t get to it sooner, life’s been a bit hectic. I made it so the reader is Garcia’s younger sibling instead of sister, I hope you don’t mind. I’m going to try to make writing as gender neutral as possible moving forward. Nothing against you, of course, I know I haven’t specified in past requests and I couldn’t have expected you to know, so don’t worry! That being said, sorry for rambling and I hope you like it :)

(gif isn’t mine)

“Hello, everyone! I want you to meet the youngest of the wonderful Garcia children!” Penelope led you into the BAU where you waved a bit stiffly. You weren’t a huge fan of being the center of attention, but you knew your sister loved these introductions.

Looking around, you pieced together the people you knew from Penelope’s stories. You recognized Derek immediately. You assumed from his professional stance that the taller and older dark haired man was Hotch. Logically, that meant Rossi was next to him. And Emily and JJ were the two women, smiling and waving at you encouragingly. You smiled a bit broader, immediately sensing you would be fast friends with them. Finally, your eyes landed on what had to be Spencer. You thought he was quite attractive and, from Penelope’s descriptions, he was also amazing, talented, kind, smart, basically everything you liked. You waved at him but noticed he was almost studying you? You weren’t sure, but felt a bit awkward, confused as to why he seemed friendly to everyone else but wouldn’t even smile at you.

“Umm, hi!” You said, laughing nervously and kind of hoping to disappear. Hotch sensed your discomfort and offered you a kind smile before putting you out of your misery.

“Welcome to the team, L/N. Garcia’s told us wonderful things about you. That being said, we’re just closing up tonight, so you could finish up your paperwork finalizing your transfer into the BAU if you haven’t already and then come in for your first day tomorrow?”

“Okay, thank you, Sir.”

“Goodnight, team”

Everyone echoed the “Goodnight” before filing out of the room. You got into the car with your sister and pulled out of the BAU, reflecting on your past and thinking about the next chapter of your life.

After almost everyone else had left, Spencer was still at his desk, thinking. The certified genius, was, for once, completely at a loss. He couldn’t figure it out. Where had he seen you before? He was currently in the process of mapping out every place he’d gone to over the last few months. Every restaurant, every film festival, every face he saw in passing at crosswalks, through car windows, at coffee stands, and, still, nothing.

“Woah, Pretty Boy, slow down! What’s got you so riled up?” Derek says, walking over to where Spencer was hunched over his notebook, furiously writing.

“I can’t figure it out, I know we’ve met before or I’ve seen them before or something. I just,” Spencer put his head in his hands, eyes starting to burn a bit from the strain of writing and concentrating for so long, “I just know it”

“Seen who before?”

“Y/N, the new agent. They’re so familiar, but for some reason I just can’t figure it out”

“Ohh! Garcia’s their sister, right?”

Spencer nodded and Derek came behind him, seeing the messy timeline and pages of notes scattered around the agent.

“Are you sure you’ve seen them? I mean, we see lots of people on the job. You could have just seen someone who looked like them, you know? And come on, Reid, your memory is, like, insane . If you’d met, you’d have remembered”

“I know, that’s what’s got me so messed up.” Spencer sighed.

“Take a rest, kid. It’s late, get back to it tomorrow. Maybe they’ll visit you in your dreams…” Derek said, wiggling his eyebrows and laughing as he walked away.

Spencer laughed, hoping Derek was right. He’d do anything to get more time with you, even if it was in his subconscious. Honestly, he felt a bit bad. He’d been so caught up in figuring how he knew you that he’d kind of forgotten to actually talk to you. Normally, he’d have caught a new recruit before they left, but he didn’t get the chance with you. After packing up, Spencer went home and continued his search with you on the forefront of his mind.

Meanwhile, you had just gotten back to your sister’s apartment. You had your own place but you were new to the team and felt a bit lonely. Mentally, you didn’t want to be alone at home, too.

“Hey, Pen, what’s up with Reid?” You asked. You were confused, you knew he was quiet but he seemed to be actively ignoring you. Even stranger, you caught him intensely staring at you, as if he was trying to figure something out.

“He’s just shy, Y/N. But he’ll warm up to you, don’t worry! Honestly, I think the both of you would be a pretty good match. If you want, I can do some of my famous matchmaking!”

“Please, noooooo,” You groaned, dragging out the word.

“Come on! I’m great at it!”

“No! Remember last time? I ended up on a blind date with a guy who, within the first three minutes, told me he liked me because he saw similarities between me and his parents!! Then, he proceeded to detail their divorce for the next 45 minutes!”

Penelope was laughing hysterically, “I mean, you did say you liked emotionally available people!”

You grabbed a pillow and threw it at her head, dying in your own fit of laughter.

“Alright, that’s it, I’m going to bed. I can’t be conscious in the same house as you anymore” You say, smiling and jokingly flipping your sister off as you walk away and into the guest room.

Naturally, she returned the gesture.

When Spencer arrived at work the next morning, his eyes were bloodshot, hair was sticking up in a million different directions, and clothes were exceptionally disheveled. Anyone else and you would have thought they had a really bad (or great) one-night stand. Although you weren’t close with him, you just didn’t see him being that type of guy. You laughed a bit as he grimaced, taking a sip of what looked like extremely bitter coffee.

Deciding to try and break the ice, you went over to him. “Long night?”

Spencer’s head shot up. “Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that” He said, laughing a bit.

You smiled. Even though he was awkward, you felt at ease in his company. “I get that, I’ve had a few long nights myself. I love the job, don’t get me wrong, but the way the BAU runs is different from anything else I’ve ever dealt with.”

“Yeah. It can be a bit of an adjustment, but you’ll be fine. You’re doing great. I mean, you arrived early, so I can already assume you’re organized. And your desk is a little messy, leading me to believe you’re a creative person. Your handwriting is quite slanted, too. I recognized it from your entry forms. Did you know that’s a sign of high intelligence? Because your thoughts are moving so quickly, your hand can’t keep up in the “perfect” way, so the letters normally slant and become more sloppy.”

You were mesmerized by him. You could watch him talk for hours, truly. Sure, he wasn’t always graceful, but he was so passionate about everything he talked about. You loved listening to people talk about what they love. The way their eyes light up, it makes the energy surrounding them contagious.

Realizing he had just psychoanalyzed you without permission, Spencer looked at your sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to profile you. It’s sometimes hard to shut off, especially around new people.”

“I get that. It’s okay, I don’t mind.” You said, nodding knowingly.

As you said that, Spencer figured it out. He remembered one time visiting his mother in Vegas and hearing you say those exact words. You were playing the piano, talking to a patient who had just accidentally spilled some water on your sheet music as they took their medicine. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. I was in need of new music, anyway” You had responded, laughing. He was surprised he didn’t immediately recognize you, the beautiful and talented person he’d seen that day. But, it did make sense, in a way. Spencer’s memory is always at its highest and weakest when he’s with his mother. He can remember each of their conversations, verbatim, but everything else fades.

“Spencer? You alright?” He had been kind of spacing out for a few moments and you were afraid you did something wrong.

His attention came back to you and he smiled again, brighter this time. “You play piano.” He stated.

Your breath caught and you let out a small laugh, extremely confused. “Uhh, yeah, I do. I’m sure you’re great, but that seems extreme even for you, Mr. Profiler”

Spencer laughed. “No! I didn’t profile you, I just, I remember you. Las Vegas, March 12th, Psychiatric Hospital, you were playing piano. A patient spilled water on you. I remember you.”

“Oh, right! Ms. Owens! She’s lovely. You were there that day? Well, either that or you just gave yourself up as a damn good stalker”

“No, no, not that,” He said, a shy smile playing on his lips, “My mother’s a patient there, Diana Reid? I’m not sure if you know her.”

“Yeah! She’s quite a character. I always enjoyed playing on days Diana was there.” You reminisced for a second, lost in the memory.

“Were you visiting someone there, too?” He said, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Not exactly. My grandfather was a patient before he passed. He taught me how to play and I kind of just asked the staff if I could volunteer and continue to after he left. They were kind enough to let me. I mean, he always encouraged me to perform and I thought it was a nice way to honor his memory. A few months later I heard from Penelope that there was an opening at the BAU. I moved out, and, well, here I am.” You gestured to yourself, slightly embarrassed after you realized you might have overshared.

Spencer caught onto this, however, and quickly reassured you. “That’s amazing, Y/N. You were amazing when I heard you. I wish I could have heard you play again.”

“Thank you, that’s really sweet, Spencer.” You said, resting your hand atop his, a blush forming in his cheeks at the touch.

“Um, if you don’t have plans. I mean, not to assume you don’t have plans, just if you, you know, happen to not be busy, would you want to maybe get dinner sometime? You don’t have to, of course! I wouldn’t be offended! I just kind of want to get to know you more. If that’s alright with you.” He trailed off, not making eye contact and playing with the buttons on his shirt a bit as he awaited your answer.

Deciding to be bold, you gently turned his face to meet yours and smiled. “I would love to. Tomorrow, pick me up at 8:00?”

“Yeah! Here’s my number, text me your address?”

You smiled and nodded, taking his phone. He took the moment to just look at you. You were truly one of the most breathtaking people he’d ever met. He couldn’t believe he’d just gotten you to agree to go out with him. Even so, he wouldn’t question it. If something in the universe gave this to him, he wouldn’t risk it for a second.

You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek as you slipped the phone back into his hand. As you pulled away, Spencer cupped your cheek and pulled you back in for a kiss. His lips tasted sweet and soft and a sense of serenity washed over you as you stood in the middle of the BAU, kissing him. Everything faded away and quickly came into focus again as he pulled away, far too soon for your liking.

“More of that tomorrow” He whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

You smiled, “That’s fine by me.”

~requests are open~

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x gender neutral reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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ssa-babygirl · 4 years

Text

Out of My League [Part 3]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: ~4.5k

Summary: Nothing brings two friends together like a bit of grief with a side of daddy issues. (Mixed POV, includes flashbacks)

Warning(s): As the summary states, angst, grief and daddy issues, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of cancer, a few swear words, i think that’s it??? i use the word “smile” like 138407894 times i’m so sorry i hate noticing my crutch words

Author’s Note: I am SO sorry how long this took I honestly have no excuse, this chapter isn’t even that great but this is only two thirds of what I actually intended this part to be so GUESS WHAT I SPLIT IT UP!!!! the next part shouldn’t take too long (I say that but watch it’s gonna take like another year) and it’s gonna be super fluffy so DON’T Y’ALL WORRY IT’S GONNA BE FLUFF CENTRAL FOR THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

WASHINGTON D.C., 2007

(Reader POV)

You had only been to D.C. a few times before to visit your dad, normally under happier circumstances, such as him getting sworn in for another term, but this time was not the case. You got the phone call from your mother the evening before when you quickly packed yours and Jamie’s bags for the flight that left later that night. The few hours you had spent in D.C. already felt like long days. You were physically and emotionally exhausted. Jamie had never been on a plane before and was grappling with the effects of jet lag.

You needed a bit of a pick-me-up yourself, so you ran over to a coffee shop for a bit of a change of scenery. It was about eight o'clock in the morning when you heard your name being called, but not by the barista making your drinks, but by a familiar voice that you had only heard over the phone for a couple of months since his last visit home. You turned around to face the source and locked eyes with Spencer.

“Hey!” You smiled, trying your best to not look like you had just had the longest 24 hours of your life.

“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you say you were gonna be in town?”

“I didn’t know I was gonna be in town until last night!” Spencer could see right through you. He pursed his lips, not asking what was wrong yet, but still opting to check-in and make sure you’re okay.

“How are you feeling? Jet lagged?”

“Some profiler.” Your chuckle came out more annoyed than you would have liked it to.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, just getting some coffee--”

“No, like, are you okay?” He knew something was wrong, he wasn’t stupid, quite the opposite, by a long shot.

“I’m fine, Spence,” you lied through your teeth.

“Then who isn’t?” Panic and worry flashed across his face, “Is Jamie okay?

“Yes! He’s fine!” You couldn’t help but smile at the relief Spencer displayed that your son was safe and well, his hand coming up to rest over his heart. You hesitated for a second before giving in and telling him why you seemed so off, “My dad’s sick in the hospital.”

“Oh! Do they know what’s wrong with him?”

“Yep. Stage 4 lung cancer.” Your dad had been a smoker for most of your life. He tried to quit after Jamie was born, but the damage had already been done.

Spencer looked genuinely heartbroken as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying to think of what to say next “Do you know how much time he has?”

“Couple of weeks if we’re lucky.”

His eyebrow furrowed and his golden eyes softened to an impossible degree, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. This wasn’t sudden, we’ve been expecting it, but when the doctor says eight to twelve months, and you get through month eight, you start hoping it’s gonna be twelve.”

“Are you going back to the hospital now?”

“Yeah-”

“I’ll come with you!”

“Don’t you have work?”

“I don’t have to be there for another hour and,” he checks his watch, which was pulled over the sleeve of his dark gray cardigan, “fifty-six minutes.”

“The hospital’s out of the way and you hate being late.”

“I hate the thought of you going through this alone even more.” You tried to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling that gave you but ultimately failed. Those big brown eyes refused to stop studying your face, analyzing any signs that you needed him, which to be fair, you did.

“I’m not alone, I got Jamie and my mom.”

“Even more the reason for me to want to go with you.” He finally dropped the solemn frown and took up a bright smile instead. You swore his grin was contagious because, by the time you both got your coffees, you were smiling just as wide.

You drove back to the hospital in comfortable silence. Walking back to your father’s room felt easier with him by your side. Jamie looked up from his drawing as he saw you approach, beaming at you and his favorite federal agent.

“Doctor Spencer!” He came running up to him and hugging his legs.

“Hey, little man!” Spencer ruffled his hair and grinned down at the tiny human squeezing his arms around his thigh.

Your mother looked up from her book, “Doctor? Spencer? Wait. As in…”

“Yeah, mom.”

She stands and wraps him in a hug, “Oh my goodness, sweetheart, you got so big! You’re all grown up! Oh, and you’re cute, too!” She pinched his now pink cheek as his face twisted into a bashful smile, “Right, Y/N? Spencer got cute!”

Now you were blushing a little.

Why am I blushing? I don’t blush over Spencer!

You pursed your lips and looked him up and down. His striped tie was crooked under his cardigan. His long hair was a bit shaggy, as if he rolled out of bed, showered, and decided to go to work. You just laughed nervously as you met Spencer’s eyes. God, those eyes. “Yeah… I’d say so.”

“You definitely grew into your looks. Honey, this is Spencer. Remember the boy that used to tutor Y/N?”

“Oh, nice to finally meet you, son, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Your father shifted in his bed, managing to sit up slightly.

“You too, sir, I just wish it could have been under better circumstances.”

“Don’t give me any of that ‘sir’ crap, I got enough of that working on the Hill,” your father chuckled but his hearty laugh quickly devolved into a coughing fit. Your mother sat back down on the bed next to him and fed him some ice chips to keep him hydrated.

“So, Spencer, Y/N says you work for the FBI now?” She turns her attention away from her husband and forces a smile.

“Yes! I do.”

You took a seat and sipped your coffee, “He was on the team that helped save Jamie, remember?”

“What division are you in?” Your dad asked.

“The Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“I got some buddies in the bureau, who’s your supervisor?”

“Aaron Hotchner?”

“Oh, I knew him in his prosecutor days. Helluva lawyer, he got some of my clients put away.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, they were guilty, weren’t they?”

Spencer’s phone rang in his pocket, “Speaking of which, I have to go. Got a case.”

“Go! Don’t be late!”

“Go catch the bad guy, Doctor Spencer!”

“Will do, Jamie.” He ruffled his hair before turning to your parents, “Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. L/N, it was great seeing you.”

“Bye, sweetheart, don’t be a stranger!”

“I’ll walk you out, return the favor.” You walked quietly with him.

“Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be home from this, but I’ll let you know when I get back, and if you’re still here just give me a call, okay?”

“Of course, Spence. Now go catch the bad guy!” You grinned as you parroted your son’s words. He returned your smile and pulled you into a hug. You could feel tears brimming in your eyes, but you fought it off best you could. Spencer could still sense your pain and hugged you as tight as possible. You were the one to pull away first, patting his back and forcing your pursed lips into a smile. His phone started to ring shortly after.

“Don’t let me keep you.”

(Spencer’s POV)

The case went on for too long. Two whole weeks passed before we were able to come home from Minneapolis. A man was strangling women with short black hair between the ages 30-40 because they reminded him of his mother, it’s standard stuff, it should have been a pretty cut and dry case, but the guy was almost impossible to find, he was completely off the grid. It took Garcia days to just get us a name, let alone contact information. He killed two other women while we were there. One of them was a mother, she had three kids all under the age of 10. Cases like these were always tough, but Gideon had seen enough to talk us all through it. I still wasn’t used to him being gone.

I couldn’t get any sleep on the jet. The nightmares have been coming back with a vengeance since Gideon left. He was like a father to me, my protector, my mentor, and now I have no one.

That’s hyperbolic; I do have the team, and they miss him too, but I’m pretty much alone out on the field. I know I can go to them, but it doesn’t feel right. I don’t like to rely on others because when they leave, I’m by myself.

Which is exactly why I am the only one awake on the jet home.

I suppose I wasn’t totally alone, I could call Y/N, but I wouldn’t wanna bother her if she was with her family. She only has so much time left with her dad. I took my phone out of my pocket anyway and saw a missed call from her last night, I hadn’t seen it before because of the case. If she wanted to talk she probably needed to, right?

I mulled it over in my head, and before I could even come to a decision, my fingers worked on autopilot, dialing the same number I had memorized years ago, and hit call.

Las Vegas, 1994

I picked up the book from the top of the pile she set down on the counter, “You’re reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

“Yeah, for class.”

“If you need any help with that, my mother was a classics professor, I’ve read most of Shakespeare’s works.”

“Really? That’s cool. I’ve read the basics in other classes, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Macbeth, all that, but this one is definitely my favorite so far.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I don’t know why, but the idea of falling in love with the wrong person just sorta… I dunno… resonates, I guess.”

“Yeah, same here.”

She snorted, “You’re like 12, how would you know about that?”

I bit my lip before explaining, “Reminds me of my parents. They loved each other at one point, obviously, but not enough to stop my dad from leaving us.”

She cringed to herself as if she realized some horrible mistake, “Jeez, I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know.”

“How long ago did he leave?”

“Two years ago.”

“So it’s just been you and your mom?”

“Yeah.”

She stared at the pencil as she twisted it in between her fingers. Her eyes refused to meet mine. “My dad has worked in D.C. pretty much my whole life, and a lot of the time it was just my mom and me. He was always home for Christmas and birthdays, he came to all my recitals as a kid, but he was gone the rest of the year. I see him maybe… fifteen days out of the year?”

She finally looked up, if only for a second. Seeing her eyes, at last, I took note of the sadness behind them, “Which is fine, it’s better than nothing, but I don’t really have a dad the other 350 days of the year, you know? I could call him, but I don’t, it’s always ‘Sorry sweetheart, I’m a bit busy right now.’”

“Yeah, my dad was always too busy too.”

“I know our situations are still really different, and you probably already know this after two years, but it does get easier.”

Present Day

(Reader POV)

You click the button to answer the call, “Spencer?”

“Hey! We’re landing soon, you still in D.C.?” His voice is scratchy like he had just woken up, or like he hadn’t spoken to anyone in a couple of hours.

“Y-yeah! I’m still staying with my mom.”

“How’s your dad?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to, your silence answered his question well enough.

“Oh, shit…” Spencer groaned, “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be, you didn’t know.”

“How long ago?”

“Last week, the funeral was yesterday.” You could hear him grimace over the phone.

“Y/N I am… so sorry I couldn’t be there for you—”

“Don’t be! You had to work, it’s okay, Spencer.”

“I should have called sooner.”

You almost laughed at his tone, “Spencer, you were catching a serial killer, it’s not your responsibility to make sure I’m okay.”

“I know, but—”

“But nothing. I’m fine.”

“How’s Jamie, god, how’s your mother?”

“She’s holding up. I’m helping her out for a while, I don’t want her to be in this house alone.” You decided to leave out the part about you putting a downpayment on an apartment a couple of blocks away from your mother’s house for now.

“How’s Jamie doing?” He asked with perfect timing as Jamie flopped onto the couch behind you.

“Wanna talk to him? He’s right here.”

“Can I? Please?”

“Jamie, baby, wanna talk to Doctor Spencer?” He didn’t even say yes before he leaped up from his seat and grabbed the phone from your hand.

“Hi, Doc!”

“Hey, little man! How’s it going? How are you?” You could still hear his excited voice even though it was nowhere near your ear anymore. It brought a smile to your face as you saw Jamie light up at the sound of your friend on the other side of the call.

“I’m okay. Did you catch the bad guy?”

“Yes, Jamie, we got him. How’s your mom?”

“She’s saying she’s fine, but she’s still really sad.”

“Well, can you put her back on with me?” Jamie hands the phone back to you and runs off to return to his coloring book and crayons.

You sighed before putting the phone back to your ear, “Don’t worry about me, Spence—”

“Come to the BAU.”

He said the words so fast you almost needed him to repeat it, “What?”

“I mean it, I’ll call you when we land, come visit. Bring Jamie and your mom.”

“Won’t you have a ton of work to do when you land?”

“I couldn’t sleep, I did all my paperwork on the jet.”

“Spencer—”

“Please. I need to see you guys.” He was practically begging. It tugged at your heart in a familiar way, but there was a pit in your stomach that you couldn’t place.

“What happened on the case?”

He sighed, “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Just come in like, an hour.”

You tried to lighten the mood just a little bit, “My mom’s been obsessively baking, want us to bring you your favorite?”

“Did she make her famous oatmeal cookies?” You could almost see his face and the way his brown eyes lit up, even while he was on a plane hours away.

The image brought a soft smile to your face and sparked a tiny bit of light in your heart, “Yep!”

“Y/N L/N, if you bring me some, I will be forever indebted to you.”

“You owe me nothing, Doctor Reid.”

Security waved you through to the elevator, Spencer had cleared you for entry already. One guard hit the button for the sixth floor and sent you up, one hand holding Jamie’s and the other holding a Tupperware of your mom’s cookies. When the doors opened, you saw the entrance to the bullpen, desks filled with paperwork, and busy agents trying to get it all done. As the three of you crept through the hall to the glass doors, your eyes locked onto Spencer, who was sprawled out in his office chair with a thick book, legs propped up on his desk, and glasses balanced on the ridge of his nose.

“Hi! Who are you here to see?” A chipper blonde with purple cat eyeglasses and curly ponytails waved at you from down the hall.

“Spencer Reid?”

“Oh! He mentioned he’d have visitors, you must be Y/N! I’m Penelope.”

“That’s a pretty name!” Jamie beamed up to the woman, who clutched a hand over her heart and returned his smile.

“Oh! Thank you, sweetheart! What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Jamie!”

“Oh you are just precious, he is precious, Y/N, good kid.”

You laughed at the pair’s enthusiasm, “Thank you, can we just go straight in?”

“Yep! Go ahead!”

You walked up to his desk and placed the cookies next to his computer, pulling his attention away from his book. He turned to look up at you, closing the book and throwing it where his feet rested before he jumped up to wrap his arms around you. Jamie hugged his leg and your mother pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey, how are you guys doing?”

“Spencer, we’re fine.”

He didn’t say anything, just examined your face for any sign of a lie. The frustration on his face said he didn’t find one.

“Stop profiling me, I’m okay.”

“Mommy, can I have a cookie now?” Jamie eyed the container like a hawk; he shared Spencer’s love of oatmeal cookies, especially from your mom.

“Right! You brought your cookies, thank you so much, Mrs. L/N.”

“You’re not a kid anymore, honey, you can call me by my first name.”

“No, I absolutely cannot,” he laughed.

“Y/N?”

You turned around and saw the woman who hugged you while you cried when you thought your son was gone: JJ.

“Hi! Good to see you again!” You brought her in for a hug while Spencer continued to catch up with Jamie and your mom.

“You too! Jamie got so big!”

“Yeah, he’s starting 3rd grade soon!” You reached around to ruffle Jamie’s hair.

“When does he start?”

“A few weeks! We gotta go back to school shopping!”

“Ooh, that’s exciting! So you’re heading home soon?”

“Um…” You glanced at Spencer and your mom, who was pestering him about whether or not he had a girlfriend, “Actually, I just thought it would be best for us to stay close to my mom. Jamie likes it here, so we’re actually going to be moving here before school starts.”

“A new school! Are you excited, Jamie?”

“Yeah!”

Spencer, still a blushing mess thanks to your mother’s nosiness, sputtered out “Uh… Excited for what?”

“To move to D.C.!” You raised your hands in a little “Surprise!” motion.

“W-what?” He couldn’t stop himself from looking delighted even if he tried.

“We’re moving here to stay close to my mom.”

“She’s been such a good help,” she gestured to the cookies, half gone over the course of the conversation, “I’m not really ready to give her up just yet.”

“Spence, you should show her around!” JJ’s face had an unreadable look, but I guess that’s what profilers are for “Take her sightseeing. Jamie, have you been to the Washington Monument yet?”

“Nope! Doctor Spencer, can you take us?”

“Sure, little man, you want your mom and grandma to come with?”

“Yes!”

Spencer grinned at him, ruffling his curls before smiling at you. His eyes were scrunched into thin lines from his cheeks, but there was still something behind them. Something you couldn’t quite read. His smile softened slightly and you finally got a clear view of his hazel eyes. His lips parted like he was about to say something, but Jamie cut him off again.

“Ooh! Ooh! Can we go to the Smithsonian?”

“Oh, honey, you’re gonna wish you didn’t say that,” JJ joked.

“The kid knows everything, you’ll be there for hours,” a deep voice said behind you.

“Morgan!” You smiled and stretched your arms out to hug him.

“Good to see you again, Y/N.”

When you turned back to Spencer, his warm grin was gone, replaced by a glare directed at Morgan. Had something happened with them? Last you heard they were best friends. Maybe that’s what happened on the case? Maybe that’s why he was so upset on the phone? Whatever it was had to be bad because he barely spoke for the rest of the visit.

A few weeks later, after you were all moved into your new apartment and Jamie was settled into his new school, you called Spencer. He owed you a trip to the Washington Monument. On your little day trip, there was no such thing as silence. Even in the quiet museum, Spencer’s voice filled the air, spewing facts about the monument, the memorial, the exhibits, and everything in between. Jamie loved to learn, so he hung onto every word that he heard.

“Plans for the monument’s development actually started in 1783, before Washington was even elected president. D.C. wasn’t even the capital of the country yet. Washington was actually against the monument because he didn’t want to use public funds for it, but after his death, Congress wanted to build him a mausoleum--”

You didn’t mind the rants. You still loved to listen to him ramble. Even if you didn’t understand what he was talking about sometimes, the sound of his voice was just soothing, especially after the stress of moving across the country.

Jamie got tired after walking around all day after the tour of the National Museum of Natural History and the Washington Monument, so your mom offered to take him home. You planted a kiss to his forehead and ruffled his hair, hugging your mom goodbye as Spencer high fived him and waved as they went off in the direction of home.

“You know, you didn’t have to stay with me. If you wanna go home too, you can.”

“No. I wanna stay with you.”

A small smile crept across his lips, blush rising to his cheeks. He bit his lips and looked down at his feet as he started walking off to the next stop on his little tour.

“Where to now, Doc?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Come on, tell me, tell me!”

“No, ‘cuz then it’s not a surprise!”

“I’m aware of the definition of surprise, you don’t need to have an eidetic memory to know that.” You would just have to rely on your less refined profiling skills to figure out where you were going. You were on foot, so it couldn’t be too far.

“Why aren’t we taking a cab?”

“Because I wanna walk with you.”

Just hail a cab, it takes way less time than--

Oh.

You walked side by side for the remainder of the distance. He did most of the talking, telling you stories about the team. You took notice of the softness in his voice when he talked about Morgan. He wasn’t bitter anymore.

“--And then Garcia answered the phone.”

“Oh, god, what’d she say?”

“‘Talk dirty to me.’”

“No!”

“Yep!”

“She said that to your boss.”

“Morgan was mortified, you should have seen his face.”

You looked at him while he grinned at the memory. It was the most at peace you’d seen him in… well, a while.

“So… you guys are cool now?”

The peace was replaced with confusion, “What do you mean?”

Your pace faltered, but you kept walking, “Didn’t you guys…? Weren’t you fighting?”

“No? Why would you think that?”

You pursed your lips and furrowed your brows, “No reason.”

Why else would he have been mad at Morgan when I went to visit? You thought, There’s no other reason! Unless…

Oh--

“We’re here!” Spencer stopped in his tracks, looking up at a large white structure with tall windows and stone carvings decorating the walls. You turned and saw the sign out front that read: “Folger Shakespeare Library.”

“Spencer…” You gaped at the sign, a small, awe-filled smile tugging at your lips.

“I remembered how much you loved Shakespeare in school, I thought you’d get a kick out of this.”

“Spencer, this is… This is wonderful!”

“Good surprise?”

“Great surprise!”

You grabbed him by the arm and tugged him up the front steps as he digs through his pockets for his wallet. Once inside, he bought two tickets for the next show: Midsummer Night’s Dream. Your favorite. It didn’t start for another half hour, so he led you to the reading room.

The room was beautiful, to put it lightly. Three ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The furniture and accents were all done in a dark wood, shelves packed tightly with books. The setting sun shone through the breathtaking stained glass windows. An unlit fireplace rested against the wall. Spencer led you up to the second level, a balcony wrapping around the border of the room.

“Thank you for today,” you beamed, “I haven’t seen Jamie that happy since…”

“I know the feeling. I haven’t felt this okay since…” His gaze dropped to his feet, trying to swallow the words that came out too soon.

“Since what?”

“Since uh...” He glanced back up to your face, “Since Gideon left the team.”

Spencer never told you he left. Agent Gideon kept tabs on Jamie after his rescue. For the last three years, he got a card in the mail on Christmas and his birthday. He always checked in and asked how he was doing. When you went to visit Spencer at the BAU a few weeks ago, you wanted to say hi to Agent Gideon and thank him for his consideration, but you hadn’t seen him. You thought he was just taking a personal day, he worked too hard anyways from what Spencer told you.

“Spence, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think you’d care.”

The words were like a spark that shocked your heart awake from a lovely sleep, and now it was upset to be so rudely awoken, “Of course I care! What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t wanna know the reason you’ve been so… off.”

“What do you mean ‘off?’”

“You don’t have to be a profiler to see you haven’t been yourself in… when did Gideon leave?”

He played with a loose thread on the sleeve of his sweater and looked back down at his feet, the toe of his converse nudging at the emerald green carpet, “Couple of months ago.”

“You could have told me.”

“You’ve had your own stuff going on. It’s not that bad.”

“You don’t have to convince yourself that you aren’t having a hard time just because I am. You don’t always have to be the hero.”

“Neither do you, you know.”

“I really am fine.”

“Y/N, he was your dad, you’re allowed to be upset.”

“I am, okay?” You snapped, “I miss him like hell! He was always just one phone call away and now…” One hand carded through your hair as you inhaled deeply, placing your other hand on the banister beside you to steady yourself.

“I’m not going to pretend that our situations are the same because they aren’t, but I’ll tell you the same thing you told me when we were kids.” He placed his hand close to yours on the banister, your fingers almost touching. Almost. “It gets easier, not seeing him every day. But just ‘cuz he wasn’t around doesn’t mean you can’t feel bad.”

You force a smile, “Thanks, Spence.”

“Of course.” He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. The hug wasn’t particularly emotional. Neither one of you felt like you were about to cry, it just felt nice to be in each other's embrace.

“Show’s starting soon.” He muttered into your ear before pulling away, walking off towards the theater with you following close behind.

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florrickandassociates · 3 years

Text

TGF Thoughts: 5x08-- And the détente had an end...

I did not like this episode! I had many problems with it! More under the cut...

A purple line is painted on a curb and then we’re watching footage of Wackner’s show. Question: do they only wear the costumes when it’s a low profile case? It was very noticeable they didn’t have them on in the cancel culture episode, and they don’t have them on in the Julius scenes in this episode...

Also, can I pretend that the horse and cat wearing tiara are meant to be BoJack and Princess Carolyn?

Del is remote-watching a focus group about Wackner’s show when Liz walks in. He refers to Wackner as “your guy” and Liz replies, “Must not be going well if you’re calling him my guy.” Sounds like “why is she my stripper when she does something bad?”

The focus group is in Vegas “where the real Americans live.” The clips from Wackner’s show being tested seem to be only the most ridiculous ones. Unsurprisingly, the focus group hates the show.

And here is my first question: Why are they testing a version of Wackner’s show that seems to be exclusively silliness? I know, you know, the writers know, and Del knows that that’s not funny.

Wackner Rules is not a good title.

I love Liz being amused by the focus group going poorly.

Why don’t people like Wackner Rules? Well, the cases are stupid—fights over barking dogs, shoes that don’t fit. They’d rather see burglary or robbery. This is silly, because while I’m sure most of Wackner’s cases are silly, we've seen a fair number of cases with a little more substance (or at least zaniness that makes them less mundane), including the one with the high profile comedian that was filmed explicitly to be part of this reality show. So is Wackner Rules, despite its cases financed by David Cord, just the most boring shit possible? And if so, why? Again, everyone involved here knows better than that.

Also is this just Del’s pet project? Is that why he is producing it, testing it, and approving it?

Liz rolls her eyes at the “wisdom of the crowd” on display. Then she shuts the laptop without realizing what she’s doing and jokes around about it.

If I were Del and my partner had just disparaged my work and then shut down my laptop while I was working, I would be furious. However, this is a bad episode of a television show and I love Liz so I am amused.

Del goes to fill Wackner in on how the focus group went. Wackner does not care about the opinions of twelve people. (This is funny, given that he has decided he is the most important person when it comes to making decisions and also that juries have twelve people too.)

No, dear god, no, please do not make me sit through tiny office jokes again. Have we transported back in time to season seven of TGW? I hated the door slamming against Eli’s desk then and I hate the sudden addition of this “joke” to Wackner’s chambers now.

The calendar says February 2021. Is it supposed to be February?

Apparently, the focus group likes the court, the costumes, and, mostly, Marissa. Just not the cases.

Marissa’s all, “well what do they want, a murder case?” and Del gives her a look like, “Can you???”

Again, the cases weren’t so silly they were boring in any other episodes and we know that Del/Wackner/Cord were meeting to discuss the best test cases for TV. So, like, how did people waste their time and energy making this obviously awful episode of TV for the focus group? No one involved is that clueless and it makes me dislike this plot.

AND RIGHT AFTER LAST EPISODE WHERE THE CASE ESCALATED TO THE POINT OF PRISON? I think that’s maybe my biggest complaint about this plot, and this episode as a whole. The last episode gave the this season a lot of momentum. Prison! Stakes are raised! Will Marissa say anything!? How much power is too much power for Wackner?! And then we get this episode, and it’s like, jk, forget about all that, now Wackner’s cases are drying up and everyone involved has zero critical thinking skills and we’re going to forget the prison thing ever happened!

“His court needs this show. Look at Trump. He wasn’t shit until The Apprentice,” Del tells Marissa after Wackner exits. Marissa does not react to the Trump reference, which may be the low point of this episode. Does Marissa Gold want to build the next Trump!? Is Marissa Gold not concerned that someone has just suggested that the goal of her show is to make someone in to Trump!? Hello?! This is not a reference you drop casually! I would be concerned about partnering with Del if I heard this! Marissa would be too! So why isn’t she?!

Also, this line + the “real Americans” as the target audience for Wackner’s show + the USA! Chanting at the end make me think the point here is somehow supposed to be about Trump and, like, cults of personality? I don’t really see it but I’ll reserve judgement until I see where Wackner’s arc ends up.

Julius heads to Wackner’s court to meet with Cord. He pitches them on his new firm. How is Julius going to start a new firm already? Wasn’t RL the only place that would take him? And pitching Cord on a firm with the 20% of staff that was laid off is a stupid idea, too. As Cord says, hiring the people laid off means hiring the “B-Team.” I dunno if that is actually true, but I know that Cord and anyone else who knows those were the people who were laid off will see it that way. Why is this in Julius’s business pitch? Like, is Cord wondering where Julius would get employees from? Is that a question?

Reddick & Lockhart, Julius says, is no longer eligible for no-bid government contracts. I want to know why: is this because RL is actually STR Laurie, or is this because Diane is white? If the latter, then you’d think we’d hear a little more about it...

Why is Cord calling the Copy Coop somewhere near the courthouse in a business district in Chicago “the middle of nowhere”?

Anyway, Cord passes on the new firm because it is not innovative and it does not disrupt anything.

Then Julius pitches the firm but with known-innovator Diane Lockhart and her client list. Cord is kind of interested. Cord cares that much about Diane? Alright.

Julius, after involving Diane, calls her to tell her what he’s done. When he gets back to his car, he is being given a ticket for parking in a purple zone. A purple zone is, apparently, court staff parking for Wackner’s court.

Julius rips up the ticket, then gets another ticket for destroying the ticket, and another ticket for destroying that ticket.

Wackner asks Marissa to find out how he can get out of the reality show. Marissa refuses and says she’s going to find out how they’re portraying Wackner, since the show benefits him. This is because he has “fewer cases this week than the week before, and fewer than the week before that. This court goes away unless more people know you’re here.” What? Where did that come from? I’m so confused. Last week Wackner had infinite money and a prison and was dealing with cases with settlements in the millions and famous comedians. Now his audience is dwindling and I’m supposed to care about this plotline? Thanks, but I cared about the plot you already sold me on, writers!

Hey, wasn’t there a thread at some point in this season about David Lee bugging Liz’s office? Odds we ever hear about that again?

Diane does not like Julius’s new firm idea. “David Lee is insisting that I stay,” Diane says, as though David Lee actually has that kind of power over her.

Julius points out that all the other partners are threatening to resign unless Diane is replaced, and “at a certain point, it won’t matter what David Lee says.” Diane says she’ll think about it.

Julius tries to talk to Cord again and finds that his car has been towed. This scene is too long, and watching Julius get confused by shifting, fake rules feels a little too much like the first Memo 618 episode. This episode only has a 40-minute run-time and we spend a lot of it on building up this plot. I don't really get why. Sure, it’s fun to watch people act incredulous, but we already know Wackner’s court is trying to put some muscle behind its authority (violence to encourage compliance, literal prison) so I don’t know why we need to spend so much time on what feels like a lower key bizarro version of a theme we are already aware of.

Just, like, do a boring ass case of the week episode if you don’t have ideas. Don’t regress the plotting and kill the momentum.

SPEAKING of killing momentum, remember how Carmen got a stellar introduction, a few episodes of development, and then pretty much disappeared for several consecutive episodes?

Then there’s another one of these scenes where Julius tries to get his car and more and more people enforce Wackner’s fake ticket.

I do not like “Wackner’s City of Chicago” being on the seal. I think he'd have something more clever than that on the seal.

David Lee calls Cord in to pitch him on bringing over all of his business. This scene confuses me, because you’d think Cord would be a big get for giant corporation STR Laurie. But no, David Lee wants Cord to bring his West Coast, East Coast, and Europe business to boutique firm Reddick Lockhart. Or, at least, that’s what Cord’s hesitance suggests to me.

Cord tells David Lee that Diane is leaving and that he won’t go to a firm that is breaking apart. David Lee denies it.

THIS sounds like the Hitting the Fan score.

David Lee insists that Liz and Diane drop what they’re doing and come up to his office. They do.

David asks Diane if she’s leaving. She says she was asked to join another firm, and that she was told that the equity partners are planning to resign unless she resigns, so she’s considering it.

“No one is threatening to resign without my permission,” David responds. Those must be some contracts if he is this powerful...

David warns Diane about poaching clients and she’s all, they’re free to leave if they want (ah, so they’re free to leave when you’re leaving but they’re your clients and can be stolen when YOU’RE losing them, I see). Liz is irritated by all of this and pre-accuses Diane of stealing clients after what she’s already done to keep her position. Fair.

David asks Diane what her issues are. “I’m a name partner being squeezed out of the decision making process,” she says. “And why is that, Diane?” Liz asks. “Because of my race!” Diane insists. “Because no one respects your decision to stay in your position. It is not yours by right,” Liz says.

“I’ve fought as hard as anyone here to keep this firm solvent. And I didn’t inherit this firm. I was invited in, and I earned...” OOOH FINALLY WE ARE GOING TO ADDRESS THAT LIZ HAD NO EXPERIENCE RUNNING A FIRM BEFORE THIS ONE FELL INTO HER LAP. Shame it’s a throwaway line.

STRL’s presence both adds and removes tension here. I wish they pushed this a little further. Sometimes David Lee seems to be functioning as an outside mediator; sometimes he has more power. What’s the point of all of these dilemmas and battles if at the end of the day, STRL owns and controls everything? How much can RL really mean to them? There’s even an RL in their name that doesn't stand for Reddick/Lockhart. I just don’t understand what it means to be a name partner in a black firm when that firm is actually controlled by some giant company. The way I see it, Diane should want out of RL because she’s past retirement age and being controlled by David Lee and that can’t be fun, and Madeline et al should want out because the mandate to focus on profit over social justice is not mostly coming from Diane or even Adrian’s legacy... it’s coming from the giant power and profit hungry corporation that owns you!

David has Diane and Liz stand on opposite sides of his desk. “Are you gonna spank us?” Liz says. I love funny Liz. Funny Liz is my favorite. But you know what I wish we also got more of? Liz’s thought process in general.

David’s point with this is that David is going to “come live and work with” Diane and Liz if they don’t figure it out themselves. I know they can’t easily get out from under STRL but Adrian did it so there’s surely a way to resign... this feels so demoralizing... I can’t believe Diane just takes this.

As they walk downstairs, Liz says, “If you’re going to leave, there’s nothing to talk about. “Liz, I don’t want to leave this firm. And you don’t want me to leave. So why don’t we hire a partner to replace Boseman?”

(1) I like that they’re acknowledging that Liz and Diane clearly want to work together and like working together and are having this fight mostly because they have to have this fight, not because they actually want to. Pretty much nothing Liz has done suggests she actually wants Diane to step down and pretty much nothing Diane has done suggests she actually wants to switch firms. So good, that’s text instead of subtext now.

(2) Weren’t they going to hire a partner to replace Boseman in the first place? Why didn’t that just... happen then and avoid all this?

Liz says she’ll think about it, but we all know that this is what she and Diane both want. This is where they should’ve been weeks ago.

OMG okay I knew they had talked about it before! In 5x02 Diane suggests this strategy from the start! Why does it go away!? It’s clearly the right strategy and doing it that early could’ve prevented a lot of conflict and tension. At this point, it feels almost too little, too late. What’s it going to do other than smooth things over with Diane and Liz?

They really are keeping the cameras rolling for Julius’s dumb parking ticket thing? Guarantee this does not make Wackner look good. As trivial as parking spaces seem, this feels like the sort of issue that would really piss off a lot of people. Maybe that would make good TV, but you want people to like and trust Wackner to keep people coming back to a reality show...

Julius, being Julius, refuses to apologize to Wackner and make the whole issue go away. I think why this rubs me—and so many others; I have seen nothing but negativity about this episode among friends and on the internet—the wrong way is that this feels like power for the sake of power. It is trivial, self-important (“Wackner’s City of Chicago”), disconnected from anything resembling reality. That’s not to say anything else about Wackner has been realistic, but the writers have been walking a very fine line between surreal, allegorical storytelling and straining credulity. This feels so mundane and unneeded that I actually have an easier time accepting that Wackner has created his own prison system than I do accepting that he’s tried to reserve parking spaces for his staff. At least with a prison, I see the larger-than-life point the writers are trying to make.

The parking attendant tells Wackner she wants to add more reserved spaces up the street and Wackner is like, oh, good! I don’t understand! Who is this lady that just wants to enforce Wackner’s rules? Does she want more spaces because it’s kind of a powertrip to give people tickets? Why do they need more reserved staff parking when cases are dwindling? Who is Wackner’s staff? Why do they need more parking?

And like, it’s one thing when Wackner’s antics affect people who are part of his little bubble, since they all have agreed to be there. How can he just reserve street parking? Wouldn’t this get shut down in a day? Julius would NOT be the only one furious.

Then Julius decides to steal Wackner’s book of seals so he can make it look like his ticket is paid.

So if they have footage from the cancel culture episode of Wackner Rules, why wouldn’t they have used it? We see it here, in the editing room, so why are the cases so boring again? (I’m sorry, I know I've said this like 1000 times, but it’s bothering me so much that this episode isn’t even internally consistent.)

(This whole plot is a time-filling detour tbh. I have no problem believing Wackner Rules could be an interesting TV show seeing as how I am watching it as part of an interesting TV show, so I don’t get why we need to spend all this time on how this obviously bad first draft of the show is bad and that it can be improved by fixing a non-existent problem? Also, there are zero stakes because Del owns the show and is also the one deciding whether or not to air the show.)

(Like, there could be a version of this where the focus group really helps us get into where Wackner’s stuff does and doesn’t translate and the changes he’s asked to make and how the fact it’s television changes the court, blah blah blah. Instead, the premise seems to be that the show is capturing what Wackner’s court was like in the days before Marissa or Cord or Del became involved, which makes no sense and is also boring!)

They’re mentioning Marissa being in the IDF again. This comes up because the re-edit of Wackner Rules is all about Marissa. This is kind of fun and meta! Marissa would definitely be a favorite on a reality show!

It turns out this re-edit is mostly about how the editor has a huge crush on Marissa.

I know that these tv writers know the process for tv writing and production better than I possibly could. I still do not believe that this reality show has one producer (Del) and an editor who is making executive decisions about the content of the show, and that this is for some reason happening in a mobile trailer parked outside of the court. Surely there would be meetings about what direction to take, not just a vague instruction to “make it better”?

In case I needed more evidence that the writers did not bring their A-game for this episode, we get Diane talking to RBG, again, because apparently now there are no other ways to clue us in on what Diane’s thinking. This is just lazy.

The RBG thing worked for me in 5x06 because it felt like a novel way for Diane to get to talk out loud, and that episode that wouldn’t have worked if we didn’t have a way to see what Diane was thinking. Here, it feels like the writers are doing it because they did it before and it worked and it’s thematically connected and it’s easy.

Doesn’t this entire scene just radiate laziness????

I know not every episode can be great but just don’t try to do something interesting and innovative if you’re going to half ass it.

I’m not even bothered by the thought that Diane daydreams about conversations with RBG. I buy that. I just don’t need this conversation (which feels way too much like it’s supposed to be an actual conversation for my taste).

OMG please stop talking about how RBG and Scalia were friends, I beg you, if you’re going to do this device again can you at least have a different conversation.

So much exposition. Diane knows someone named Allegra through EMILY’s List and thinks she’ll be a perfect choice for the third partner. Diane did hear she had a meltdown, though.

Julius gets arrested for stealing Wackner’s sticker book. When he starts shouting about how it’s a fake court, the officer is like, “As real as Officer McFinely’s death?” calling back to the last episode. I do find it interesting the police would be willing to overlook Wackner’s complete disregard for the law because of a grudge involving the law firm, and I like that choice.

Allegra is basically a slightly more toned-down version of Elsbeth. She has a messy, rented office, and trails off mid-thought. Since she’s kind of a familiar character type, I’m not overly impressed by her, but she’ll be fine to add some little bits of humor to the office drama, I think. My hope is that they use her in small doses, because I have a low tolerance for quirk.

Allegra’s office has tons of books. I can’t see what most of them are, but she has a copy of The Nix, and I liked that book! It’s the only fiction title I can spot; the rest seems like political commentary or pop sociology/business stuff.

Diane mentioning her RBG hallucinations to Allegra is probably a very smart way to win over Allegra.

Marissa encourages the editor, whose crush is so obvious it’s uncomfortable, to put Wackner’s outburst in the show. The one about how Del is using the show to rehabilitate the comedian!? Why would Del air that?! How does this help anything?! If the goal is to get Wackner’s court more cases, why would this make anyone choose to take their case there?

The police bring Julius to Wackner’s court, which I have a slight bit of trouble believing (not that any of this is believable, but you know what I mean—I don’t feel like it’s logical given everything else I know about this premise) but I'll roll with.

Now there’s some ridiculous, awful fake lawyer who was “devil’s advocate” with devil horns in the last episode and David Cord is prosecuting Julius and... what the actual fuck is going on in this scene? This Devil’s Advocate man would not have lasted a second in what we’ve seen of Wackner’s court before this point—he is an obvious liar and showman who Wackner would have no patience for. And if Cord has a bone to pick with Julius, this is an odd way of showing it, because it feels like Cord is there as a familiar face and not for a story reason.

Like, does Cord actively HATE Julius? Is... that supposed to be the point of this?

Seriously though, Devil’s Advocate would get like two sentences into his story about how Julius grew up poor before Wackner would make him stop, and if he got farther than that, Julius interrupting to ask “What are you talking about?” would’ve prompted Wackner to hold up that “cut the shit” card.

This humor is so fucking lazy. In the worst moments of this show, they take gags that have previously been successful and run with them until you can’t believe you ever found them endearing. That’s this scene.

Also it just occurred to me when I referenced the “Cut the Shit” card that we’ve seen Wackner be able to get audience responses to his cases. Seems to me like you pretty much already have your focus group results, no? You do more of the things that make the live audience excited and fewer of the things that make them get up and leave. The things that the live audience plays along with and reacts to are the catch phrases you’re going to put on merchandise. I’m not a TV producer and this is very obvious to me.

Instead of telling this lying lawyer to stop, Wackner instead asks the court musician to play “This is Us like music.” Make it stop. I don’t know who finds this funny but it’s not me!

Can you IMAGINE the fake reality show airing any of this? I dislike it and I know all of the players and context.

There is a shot of Del looking excited to see what’s going to happen. I’m sorry, but if Del’s instincts are this bad I just do not believe he runs a streaming service. Maybe his main role is to do the business stuff, not the content stuff? (But if so, why’s he always hanging around Wackner’s court?)

This episode is full of extremely essential scenes, like Marissa and the editor having sex as they watch footage of Marissa. Good for Marissa, I guess? This could’ve really easily just been implied. And if you really want to give Marissa more material, give her an arc, not a hookup where the focus of the sex scene is the editor dude. Or, like, just let her react to the whole prison revelation from the last episode. WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT HOW WACKNER IS SENDING PEOPLE TO PRISON?

Liz and Allegra meet. Allegra makes it sound like it is about her book but then she’s extremely (and intentionally, I think) obvious that she’s there to be the third partner and that Diane scouted her.

What is the point of Allegra asking if Liz has a view of Willis Tower and misidentifying the building? Presumably Allegra lives in Chicago, so you’d think she’d know its most recognizable building by sight (and would probably also call it the Sears Tower).

Liz likes Allegra.

Now there are a ton of cops in court and Del is loving the drama. Sure, it’s dramatic, but is this really want you want to air? Some convoluted thing where a bunch of police officers intimidate a lawyer who works at a firm that was unfairly linked to a cop killing because that lawyer refused to pay a parking ticket issued by a fake court? Who... who is this for?! What’s the angle? Who is amused by this?

Marissa sees Julius is the defendant and jumps into action. She asks Wackner why he’s prosecuting Julius and he says it’s his job. She argues that Julius is from their firm and this is bullshit. Wackner still won’t let him go.

If Julius is from the firm and Wackner employs the firm, is Julius NOT covered under the court employee banner? Why do I even care.

Wackner acts like he’s just not bending the rules, just like Marissa wanted. I’m not interested in this enough to decide whether I agree that this is consistent or think this is actually a different scenario. I just want to be done with this episode so I can forget about it.

I imagine—maybe hope is a better word—that this episode is bad because it’s hard to write five great episodes in a row without kind of phoning one in. I wish this episode didn’t kill the momentum coming out of 5x07 but I’m hoping that it is an isolated issue and not a drop in quality that will also spoil 5x09 and 5x10.

Wackner closes the door on Marissa, which I think is supposed to be meaningful, and Marissa calls Diane down to Wackner’s court to help Julius.

Diane and Liz both go to court. “I’m about to be sent to prison for parking in a purple zone,” Julius explains. “What does that mean?” Diane asks. “If I explained it to you, it wouldn’t make any more sense,” Julius says.

Oh so now we remember that Wackner’s prison exists. When I said I wanted more about it, I didn’t mean that I wanted it looming as a threat... I meant I wanted to explore what it meant that Wackner was promoting prisons...

Diane asks if they should call the police, “the real ones.” I like that it takes her a second longer than Liz and Julius to understand the cops are real. Liz also notes that the SA’s office won’t help either because they might be happy with anything that fucks with RL. This scene is decent. Some of the themes in here are decent. It just feels poorly timed and with the emphasis in the wrong place. I imagine the goal here is to show that Wackner is now more concerned with enforcement than with the process for trials, and that enforcement brings with it a lot of uncomfortable questions. I wish that we’d spend less time on the incredulous reactions and silliness and more time reckoning with those questions.

The next focus group likes the Wackner anger outburst, because, in Del’s mind, they want to see Wackner care about something. Does Del have the worst judgment ever? Wackner looks invested in every single thing he does—how could anyone accuse him of not seeming like he cares? His whole thing, the whole thing that got Del’s attention, is that he pays each case the kind of individualized attention it deserves. Now he only looks like he cares if he blows up? Even if the thing he’s caring about in the explosion in question is his own reputation? Is Del trying to make Wackner into a mid-2010s anti-hero? And if so... why?

Wackner’s outburst that accuses Del of corruption is apparently so good it got an unprecedented “95%” from the focus group. Sure. Why not.

Then Del tells him to keep doing cases “just like this” and they’ll keep the court going. Does that mean just like the ALREADY HIGH PROFILE AND ALREADY HAND PICKED FOR TELEVISION cancel culture case, or cases like the Julius case? If the first, well, duh, that’s why they picked that case in the first place. If the second, again, why?

“You and your colleagues think you get to decide when and how justice is determined. You think it is your right to make and break the rules as you see fit,” Wackner says to Julius. UM, WACKNER, THAT IS LITERALLY YOUR ENTIRE DEAL???????????????????????????

That’s the point, right????? Please tell me the point of this is that Wackner is supposed to look totally hypocritical and like an egomaniac who thinks his own judgment should not be questioned but everyone else’s should be????????????????????????? If this line isn’t meant to be supremely ironic I... I wouldn’t even know where to start.

“The law belongs to the people,” Wackner says, and the cops start chanting, “USA!”. What?!

And then we cut away from this and suddenly we’re welcoming Allegra to the firm and... did I miss an entire episode or something? What happened with Julius? Why are Liz and Diane smiling? How did Diane and Liz’s conversation about Allegra go? Did the other partners agree to this? Did David Lee? This is a very big development! I need more!

Madeline seems welcoming towards Allegra. She and another partner are still suspicious of Diane because they have seen right through this strategy. So... I guess we aren’t done with this arc yet.

Aw, Liz has a picture of herself with her son when he was a baby on her desk.

Diane and Liz drop Wackner as a client. It takes longer than it should for Marissa’s name to come up in this conversation.

If you were wondering about the Julius case we spent most of the episode building up, it’s resolved off screen by Wackner releasing Julius with time served. Why? Don’t know. Did it seem like it was headed that way during anything we previously saw? Nope.

Wackner won’t let Diane and Liz back out, saying he gets to choose his representation (does it REALLY work this way?) and also, probably more importantly, that they won’t be able to get all of Cord’s business if they piss him off by dropping Wackner.

Wackner also notes that they picked up his pilot. I’m sorry, what? Del didn’t just decide that the series he created for his streaming platform would be straight to series? That whole little “Wackner doesn’t test well” plot was resolved by showing an episode with the COTW they obviously should’ve shown from the start and then Wackner made a total of zero changes to his behavior or attitude and now the show is a huge success? What was the POINT? Why did I just watch that?!

“Fuck,” Liz says as the episode ends.

I’ve kinda always thought this, but it’s worth saying again: Madeline and company should resign from the firm. BOTH RL and STRL care more about profit than anything else. Liz and Diane want to work together. Liz and Diane both take the threat of losing Cord’s business seriously. If Madeline wants a firm that’s focused on social justice, it doesn’t matter if Diane is name partner or not. Liz is probably even faster than Diane to decide things based on money, and even if she weren’t, STRL owns them! Plus, I have a feeling that Diane, her clients, Liz, and Cord are probably individually worth more to STRL than Madeline and the other partners combined. If Allegra is down to pursue profit and deal with corporate overlords too, then Madeline and the others matter even less to STRL. Just cut your losses and start the firm you want to start. At this point it won’t even compete with RL.

Don’t get me started on this absolutely idiotic title sequence for Wackner Rules. I’m sure this is someone’s idea of a joke. If I take it seriously, then I have to write about how it is even worse than all of the things I just complained about for the entirety of this recap, and honestly, I’m exhausted.

#tgf thoughts #the good fight

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snelbz · 4 years

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What Happens In Vegas... {4}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Feyre x Rhysand, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Summary: For Feyre’s twenty-first birthday, her best friend took her to Las Vegas for a weekend of fun she could never forget. She’s going home with a lot more than memories.

@snelbz / @tacmc collab

What Happens In Vegas Masterlist

Fanfiction Masterlist

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My neck had seized up. Pain shot through me as I slowly straightened and blinked the sleep from my eyes. I rubbed at the offending muscles, trying to get them to unlock. “Ow.”

Rhysand took one hand off the steering wheel and reached out, rubbing the back of my neck with strong fingers. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I must have slept funny.” I shuffled up in the seat, taking in our surroundings, trying not to enjoy the neck rub too much. Because of course he was crazy good with his hands. Mr. Magic Fingers coerced my muscles back into some semblance of order with seemingly little effort. I couldn’t be expected to resist. Impossible. So instead I moaned loudly and let him have his way with me

Being barely awake was my only excuse.

The sun was just rising. Tall, shadowy trees rushed by outside. Trying to get out of LA, we’d gotten caught in a traffic jam the likes of which this small town girl had never seen.

For all my good intentions, we hadn’t really talked. We’d stopped and gotten food and gas. The rest of the time, Johnny Cash had played on the stereo and I’d practiced speeches in my head. None of the words made it out of my mouth.

For some reason, I was reluctant to call a halt to our adventure and go off on my own. It had nothing to do with pulling up my big-girl panties and everything to do with how comfortable I’d begun to feel with him. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was peaceful. Refreshing, even, given the last day’s worth of drama. Being with him on the open road … there was something freeing about it. At around two in the morning, I’d fallen asleep.

“Rhys, where are we?” He gave me a sidelong look, his hand still massaging my muscles. A sign flew past outside. “We’re going to Velaris?”

“That’s where my place is,” he said. “Stop tensing up.”

“Velaris?”

“Yeah. What’ve you got against Velaris?”

“Nothing.” I backpedaled fast, not wanting to appear ungrateful. “It’s just a surprise. I didn’t realize we were leaving town. Velaris. Okay.”

Rhys sighed and pulled off the road. Dust flew and stones pinged off the truck. Cass wouldn’t be pleased. He turned to face me, resting an elbow on the top of the passenger seat, boxing me in.

“Talk to me, friend,” he said.

I opened my mouth and let it all tumble out. “I have a plan. I have some money put away. I was going to go someplace quiet for a couple of weeks until this blew over. You didn’t have to put yourself out like this. I just need to get my stuff from back at the mansion and I can be out of your hair.”

“All right.” He nodded. “Well, we’re here now and I’d like to go check out my place for a couple of days. So why don’t you come with me? Just as friends. No big deal. It’s Friday now, the lawyers said they’d have the new papers sent to us Monday. We’ll sign them. I’ve got a show early next week back in LA. If you want, you can lie low at the house for a few weeks till things calm down. Sound like a plan? We spend the weekend together, then go our separate ways. All sorted.”

It did sound like a solid idea. But still, I deliberated for a second. Apparently, it was a second too long.

“You worried about spending the weekend with me or something? Am I that scary?” His gaze held mine, our faces a bare hand’s breadth apart. Dark hair fell around his perfect face. For a moment I almost forgot to breathe. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Outside a motorcycle roared past then all fell quiet again.

Was he scary? The man had no idea.

“No,” I lied, throwing in some scoff for good measure.

I don’t think he believed me. “Listen, I’m sorry about acting like an asshole back in LA.”

“It’s okay, really, Rhys. This situation would do anyone’s head in.”

“Tell me something,” he said in a low voice. “You remembered getting the tattoo. Has anything else come back to you?”

Reliving my drunken rampage wasn’t somewhere I wanted to go. Not with him. Not with anyone. I was paying the consequences by having my life upended and splashed about on the Internet. “Does this even matter? I mean, isn’t it a bit late to be having this conversation?”

“Guess so.” He shifted back in his seat and put a hand on the wheel. “You need to stretch your legs or anything?”

“A restroom would be great.”

He nodded. “No worries.”

We pulled back out onto the road, and silence ensued for several minutes. He’d turned off the stereo sometime while I slept. The quiet was awkward now and it was all my doing. Guilt sucked first thing in the morning. It probably didn’t improve later in the day, but first up, without even a drop of caffeine to fortify me, it was horrible. He’d been nice to me, trying to talk, and I’d shut him down.

“Most of that night is still a blur,” I said, trying to gently reopen the conversation.

He hummed quietly. Such was the sum total of his response.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself to go further. “I remember doing shots at midnight. After that, it’s hazy. I remember the sound of the needle at the tattoo parlor, us laughing, but that’s about it. I’ve never blacked out in my life. It’s scary.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

It was a little late to ask this, but I needed to know. “How did we meet?”

He exhaled hard. “Me and a group of people were leaving to go to another club. One of the girls wasn’t looking where she was going, bumped into a cocktail waitress. Apparently the waitress was new or something and she dropped her tray. Luckily, it was only a couple of empty beer bottles.”

“How did I get involved?”

He darted me a glance, taking his eyes off the road for a moment. “Some of them started giving the poor waitress shit, telling her they were going to get her fired. You just swooped in and handed them their asses.”

My eyes went wide. “I did?”

“Oh, yeah.” He licked his lips, the corner of his mouth curling. “Told them they were evil, pretentious, overpriced assholes who should watch where they were walking. You helped the girl pick up the beer bottles and then you insulted my friends some more. It was pretty fucking classic, actually. I can’t remember everything you said. You got pretty creative with the insults by the end.”

I was stunned. “Huh. And you liked me for that?”

He shut his mouth and said nothing. A whole wide world of nothing. Nothing could actually cover a lot of ground when you put that much effort into it.

“What happened next?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Security came over to throw you out. Not like they were gonna argue with the rich kids.”

“No. I guess not.”

Glancing over at me, he added, “You looked panicky, so I got you out of there.”

“You left your friends for me?” I watched him in amazement.

He did a one-shoulder shrug. As if it meant nothing.

“What then?” I asked.

“We took off and had a drink in another bar.”

“I’m surprised you stuck with me.” Stunned was closer.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked. “You treated me like a normal person. We just talked about everyday stuff. You weren’t angling to get anything out of me. You didn’t act like I was a different fucking species. When you looked at me it felt…”

“What?”

He cleared his throat. “I dunno. Doesn’t matter.”

He was lying. “Yes, you do. And it does.”

He groaned.

I pushed. “Please?”

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, shifting around in the driver’s seat all uncomfortable-like. “It felt real, okay? It felt right. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

I sat in stunned silence for a moment. “That’s a good way to explain it.”

Suddenly, he got decidedly smirky. “Plus, I’d never been propositioned quite like that.”

“Yeah. Okay, stop now.” I covered my face with my hands, and he laughed.

“Relax,” he said. “You were very sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Sweet is not a bad thing,” he replied.

He pulled the truck into a gas station, stopping in front of a pump. “Look at me.”

I lowered my fingers. Rhys stared back at me, beautiful face grinning. “You said that you thought I was a really nice guy. And that it would be great if we could go up to your room and have sex and just hang out for a while, if maybe that was something I’d be interested in doing.”

“I have all the moves,” I groaned. There might have been more embarrassing conversations in my life. Doubtful, though. Oh, good God, the thought of me trying out my smooth seduction routine on Rhys. He who had groupies and glamour models throwing themselves at him on a daily basis. If there’d been enough room under the car seat, I’d have hid down there. “What did you say?”

“What do you think I said?” Without taking his gaze off me, he popped the glove box and pulled out a baseball cap.

“This is so mortifying,” I sighed, letting my head fall back against the headset. “Why couldn’t you have forgotten too?”

He just looked at me. The smirk was long gone. For a long moment he held my gaze captive, unsmiling. The air in the car seemed to drop by about fifty degrees.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, fingers fumbling with the seat belt.

His voice was hard again. “Sure.”

I finally managed to unbuckle the stupid thing, heart galloping inside my chest. The conversation had gotten crazy heavy toward the end. It had caught me off guard. Knowing he’d stood up for me in Las Vegas, that he’d chosen me over his friends… It changed things. And it made me wonder what else I needed to know about that night.

“Wait.” He rifled among the collection of sunglasses, pulled out a pair of designer aviator shades, and handed them to me. “You’re famous now too, remember?”

“My butt is.”

He almost smiled. Almost.

He fit the baseball cap to his head and rested an arm on the steering wheel. The tattoo of my name was right there, in all its glory. It was pink around the edges and some of the letters had small scabs on them. I wasn’t the only one permanently marked by that night.

With a sigh, I hurried inside of the gas station, into the restroom. I locked myself inside of the stall and took a deep breath.

A weekend with Rhysand. It wouldn’t be too bad...at least, that’s what I kept telling myself, and every time I did, I debated myself against it. I was nervous and, yes, a little bit scared. Ultimately, I will still uncomfortable with the fact that I was married to a stranger. I was learning more about him every day, but I still didn’t know him, and I’m not sure I would get the chance to when all was said and done.

I mean, did it even matter?

After I saw to the necessities, I was washing my hands, scrubbing at them just to give myself a few minutes more of silence. When I opened the door to the restroom again, though, I was only halfway down the drinks aisle before I had been spotted. A pair of girls, maybe a few years younger than myself, were standing there, their eyes wide.

The sunglasses Rhys had given me were pushed on the top of my head.

Good going, Feyre.

I gave them each an awkward smile and tried to step past them. I was almost to the door, to freedom, when one of them muttered to her, “Do you think that’s her?”

I didn’t turn to let them know I’d heard them, just kept hurrying for the exit.

“I don’t think so. The girl in the pictures was much prettier.”

Ouch.

When I got back, Rhysand was standing by the truck, signing an autograph for a couple of guys, one of whom was busy doing an overly-enthusiastic air guitar performance. Rhys laughed and clapped him on the back and they talked for a couple of minutes more. He was kind, gracious. He stood smiling, chatting with them, until he noticed me hovering nearby. “Thanks, guys. If you could keep this quiet for a couple of days I’d appreciate it, yeah? We could do with a break from the insanity.”

“No worries.” One of the guys turned and grinned at me. “Congratulations. You’re way prettier in person than in your pictures.”

“Thanks.” I awkwardly smiled, not quite knowing what else to do. I preferred these guys to the girls who’d seen me in the gas station.

Rhys winked at me and opened the passenger door for me to hop in. The other man pulled out a cell phone and started snapping pictures. Rhys ignored him and hurried around to the other side of the vehicle. He didn’t speak till we were back out on the road.

“It’s not far now,” he said. “We still going to Velaris?”

I nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Cool.”

Hearing Rhys talk about our first meeting had put a new spin on things. That conversation had piqued my curiosity. That he’d chosen me to some degree that night… I don’t think the possibility had occurred to me before. I’d figured we’d both let tequila do the thinking and somehow fallen into this mess together.

I was wrong. There was more to the story. Much more. Rhysand’s reluctance to answer certain questions made me wonder.

I wanted answers. But I needed to tread carefully.

“Is it always like that for you?” I asked. “Being recognized? Having people approach you all the time?” I was hesitant to tell him about the girls I saw in the gas station. I didn’t know how he’d feel about that, or if he’d reprimand me for not utilizing the sunglasses like he’d told me.

“They were fine. The crazies are a worry, but you handle it. It’s part of my job. People like the music, so…”

A bad feeling crept through me. “You did tell me who you were that night, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, of course I did.” He gave me a snarky look, his brows bunched up.

My bad feeling crept away, only to be replaced by shame. “Sorry.”

“Feyre, I wanted you to know what the fuck you were getting into. You said you really liked me, but you weren’t that keen on my band.” He fiddled with the stereo, another half smile on his face. Soon some rock song I didn’t know played quietly over the speakers. “You felt pretty bad about it, actually. You kept apologizing over and over. Insisted on buying me a pizza to make up for it.”

“I just prefer country or pop. Or, really, anything that’s not hard rock.”

“Believe me, I know. And stop apologizing. You’re allowed to like whatever the hell you want.”

I nodded and we fell into an awkward silence. Finally, I asked, “Was it a good pizza?”

He gave me a one-shoulder shrug. “It was fine.”

I looked over at him, but his eyes were firmly on the road in front of us. “I wish I remembered.”

He snorted. “There’s a first.”

I don’t know what exactly came over me. Maybe I just wanted to see if I could make him smile. With a knee beneath me I pulled out a length of seat belt, raised myself up, and kissed him quick on the cheek. A surprise attack. His skin was warm and smooth against my lips. The man smelled so much better than he had a right to.

“What was that for?” he asked, shooting me a look out of the corner of his eye.

“For getting me out of my parent’s house and then out of LA. For talking to me about that night.” I shrugged, trying to play it off. “For lots of things.”

A little line appeared above the bridge of his nose. When he spoke, his voice was gruff. “Right. Yeah. No problem.”

His mouth stayed shut and his hand went to his cheek, touching where my lips had been. The looks out of the corner of his eye continued for quite some time. Each one made me wonder a bit more if Rhysand Lunasa was just as scared of me as I was of him. This reaction was even better than a smile.

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

Velaris was beautiful, that much was certain, and if I thought the mansion in LA was over the top, Rhysand’s house was just as magnificent, but in a more logical sense. It wasn’t as big, but it was very modern, very sleek.

Rhysand climbed out of the cab and walked up to the house, fiddling with a set of keys from his pocket. He opened the front door, then stopped to punch numbers into a security system.

“You coming?” he yelled.

I lingered beside the car, looking up at the magnificent house. Him and me alone. Inside there. Hmm. Waves crashed on the rocks nearby. I swore I could hear the swell of an orchestral accompaniment not too far off in the distance. The place was decidedly atmospheric. And that atmosphere was pure romance.

“What’s the problem?” Rhys came back down the stone path toward me.

“Nothing … I was just-.”

“Good.” He didn’t stop. I didn’t know what was going on until I found myself hanging upside down over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.

“Shit. Rhys!”

“Relax,” he crooned. I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the smirk on his lips.

“You’re going to drop me!” I cried.

“I’m not going to drop you. Stop squirming,” he said, his arm pressing against the back of my legs. “Show some trust.”

“What are you doing?” I battered my hands against the ass of his jeans.

“It’s traditional to carry the bride across the threshold.”

“Not like this,” I laughed.

He patted my butt cheek, the one with his name on it. “Why would we wanna start being conventional now, huh?”

“I thought we were just being friends.”

“This is friendly. You should probably stop grabbing my ass, though, or I’m gonna get the wrong idea about us. Especially after that kiss in the car.”

“I’m not feeling your ass,” I grumbled, and stopped using his butt cheeks for a handhold. Like it was my fault the position left me no alternative but to hold on to his firm butt.

He snorted. “Please, you’re all over me. It’s disgusting.”

I laughed despite myself. “You put me over your shoulder, you idiot. Of course I’m all over you.”

Up the steps we went, then onto the wide wooden patio and into the house. Hardwood floors in a rich brown and moving boxes, lots and lots of moving boxes. I couldn’t see much else.

“This could be a problem,” he said.

“What could be?” I asked, still upside down, my hair obscuring my view.

“Hang on.” Carefully, he righted me, setting my feet on the floor. All the blood rushed from my head and I staggered. He grabbed my elbows, holding me upright.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. What’s the problem?”

I followed his gaze, looking around at the sparse furnishings. “I thought you said you lived here,” I said, as I stepped inside of the foyer and looked around.

Rhysand shut the front door behind me. As I was looking out of the floor-length front windows at the beach beyond, he said, “I haven’t been here in a while. Not much time to come home, you know?”

I nodded, as if I agreed, but I really had no idea. I had no idea what it was like to constantly be on the road, in different cities, in different countries.

To be away from home for months, for years, and having to cope with homesickness.

“I thought there’d be more furniture,” he said.

I turned to look at him. “You’ve never been here before?”

“I’ve been busy.”

Apart from boxes there were more boxes. They were everywhere. We stood in a large central room with a huge stone fireplace set in the far wall. You could roast a whole cow in the thing if you were so inclined. Stairs led to a second floor above and another level below this one. A dining room and open-plan kitchen came next. The place was a combination of floor-to-ceiling glass, neat lines of logs, and gray stonework. The perfect mix of old and new design techniques. It was stunning. But then all the places he lived in seemed to be.

I wondered what he’d make of my and Joey’s tiny bedraggled apartment. A silly thought. As if he’d ever see it.

“At least they got a fridge.” He pulled one of the large stainless steel doors open. Every inch of space inside had been packed with food and beverages. “Excellent.”

“Who are ‘they’?” I asked, following behind him.

“The people that look after the place for me. Friends of mine. I called them, asked them to sort some stuff out for us.” He pulled out a beer and popped the lid. “Cheers.”

I smiled, amused. “For breakfast?”

“I’ve been awake for two days. I want a beer, then I want a bed. Man, I hope they thought to get a bed.” Beer in hand, he ambled back through the kitchen and entryway and up the stairs. I followed, curious.

He pushed open one bedroom door after another. There were four in total and each had its own bathroom because cool, rich people clearly couldn’t share. At the final door at the end of the hall he stopped and sagged with relief. “Thank fuck for that.”

A kingdom of a bed made up with clean, white sheets waited within. And a couple more boxes.

“What’s with all the boxes?” I asked. “Did they only get one bed?”

“Sometimes I buy stuff on my travels. Sometimes people give me stuff. I’ve just been sending it all here for the last few years. Take a look if you want. And yes, there’s only one bed.” He took another swig of beer. “You think I’m made of money?”

I huffed out a laugh. “Says the guy who got Cartier to open so I could pick out a ring.”

“You remember that?” He smiled around the bottle.

“No, I just assumed given what time of night it must have been.” I wandered over to the wall of windows. Such an amazing view.

“You tried to pick some shitty little thing. I couldn’t believe it.” He stared at me, but his gaze was distant.

I winced. “I threw the ring at the lawyers.”

He flinched and studied his shoes. “Yeah, I know.”

“I’m sorry. They just made me so mad.”

“Lawyers do that.” He took another swig of the beer. “Cass said you took a swing at him.”

“I missed.”

“Probably for the best. He’s an idiot but he means well.”

“Yeah, he was really nice to me.” Crossing my arms, I checked out the rest of his big bedroom, wandering into the bathroom. The Jacuzzi would have made Cassian’s curl up in shame. The place was sumptuous. Yet again the feeling of not belonging, of not fitting in with the décor, hit me hard.

“That’s some heavy frown, friend,” he said.

I attempted a smile. “I’m just still trying to figure things out. I mean, is that why you took the plunge in Vegas? Because you’re unhappy? And apart from Cassian, you’re surrounded by jerks?”

“Fuck.” His let his head fall back. “Do we have to keep talking about that night?”

I was getting just as frustrated as he was. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“No,” he said. “It wasn’t that, okay?”

“Then what?” I pressed.

“We were in Vegas, Feyre. Shit happens.”

I shut my mouth. Ouch.

“I don’t mean…” He wiped a hand across his face. “Fuck. Look, don’t think it was just all drinking and partying and that’s the only reason anything happened. Why we happened. I wouldn’t want you to think that.”

I threw my arms out. It seemed the only proper response. “But that’s what I do think. That’s exactly what I think. That’s the only way this fits together in my head. When a girl like me wakes up married to a guy like you, what else can she possibly think? God, Rhys, look at you. You’re beautiful, rich, and successful. Tamlin was right, this makes no sense.”

He turned on me, face tight. “Don’t do that. Don’t talk yourself down like that.”

I just sighed, shaking my head.

He went on. “I’m serious. Don’t you ever give what that asshole said another thought, understood?”

“Then give me something. Tell me what it was like between us that night.”

He opened his mouth, then snapped it closed. “Nah. I don’t want to dredge it all up, you know? Water under the bridge or whatever. I just don’t want you thinking that the whole night was some alcohol-fueled frenzy or something, that’s all. Honestly, you didn’t even seem that drunk most of it.”

“Rhys, you’re hedging. Come on. It’s not fair that you remember and I don’t.”

“No,” he said, his voice hard, cold, in a way I hadn’t heard it. He loomed over me, jaw set. “It’s not fair that I remember and you don’t, Feyre.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m going out.” True to his word, he stormed out the door. Heavy footsteps thumped along the hallway and back down the stairs. I stood staring after him.

#snelbz whiv #what happens in vegas #vegas au #feysand #snelbz tacmc collab #snacmc

272 notes · View notes

thesmokingguns · 3 years

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Wendy and The Lost Boys Chapter 12 - FINAL

Warning: Drug use and Sex so please 18+

Note: Thank you to everyone who read this. It means a lot. I need some ideas for what to write next so if you have a request I would love to hear it! Thanks everyone !

It felt stupid to be this happy. Yet everyday he felt like he had won the lottery. Sasha was always doing things to make his day. It didn’t have to be anything big but just the small things she added to his life were improving Nikki’s outlook. They had spent the last three months together pretty much nonstop, getting into a routine together. Nikki liked waking up and having Sasha in bed with him or finding her in the kitchen reading books on the counter drinking coffee. He loved when he’d come home after a long day she’d be greeted with her jumping into his arms to kiss him. He loved their baths together where they’d lay together listening to a record and smoking cigarettes until Nikki would need to flip it to the B side.

Sasha took care of him. She always made sure that he had clean clothes to wear and that there was food in the fridge. There were always little love notes around if she left before him to give him a rundown of what his day looked like. She made him laugh with her quirky ways and had him remembering how easy things could be. Nikki had learned what it was like to be loved by being with her. Gone were the fears of him having to be this rockstar with some sort of persona he had to fit; she was right there going out with him most nights. The nights that she didn’t go out he knew what he had at home and nothing was really worth losing that.

But now things were about to change in the little house they had set up because the guys had just gotten a break to open up on tour for Kiss.

Nikki frowned looking at his watch. She was running fifteen minutes late on the worst possible day to be late. They were supposed to go see Bad Brains at the Whisky tonight before the tour and he was looking forward to the show. All of a sudden he saw her sprint towards the car, waving frantically as she ran in her Jean shorts and Keds, a Crüe shirt Nikki had cut up for her swinging in the breeze. Her hair and makeup were already done and that cherry red smile was driving Nikki crazy as it shone across the parking lot. She was jumping into his arms and playing the merry fool he was spinning her, pressing his lips to hers in a heated kiss. Sasha smiled being set on her feet.

“I got ready here so I won’t need to go home. So don’t look so stressed out about the time.” She knew him too well. Her finger wiped at his bottom lip and she was slipping inside his Porsche, pushing her school bag into the backseat. He hadn't expected her to be ready and a sense of relief washed over him knowing they had saved an hour he had planned for.

“What are we going to do with all the time we have?” He asked, driving them towards the Strip. She leaned across kissing the side of his mouth having a few ideas of what they could be doing together. He was tense under her touch and she could see the wheels spinning in his mind, “Are you going to be okay?” He felt her squeeze his bicep and her head on his shoulder. He wouldn’t be gone for that long from her. Especially since she would be going to Irving tomorrow with him and taking the bus to LA where she would be dropped off in LA for four days with Nikki going to Phoenix and then Las Vegas. She was fine with him coming home after all the dates but he had asked her to come see them in Vegas because they had some new songs he wanted her to hear them play for the first time.

“Are you going to be okay without me?” She shot back, he tensed as they stopped at a red light. He could turn and give her attention now. Sasha couldn’t believe how serious his face was about everything and she really did worry if he was going to be okay, “It’s only a few days, Sixx. What the hell are you going to do when you’re touring Europe?” She teased. Nikki was holding her face in his hands.

“I’m going to play shows at night and during the day when I’m hungover I’m going to take you around to see everything.” He loved the way she smiled at that. He believed that’s really what they would do together. A loud beep behind them broke up the moment they were sharing together. Nikki gave a glare to the person behind them before driving forward, his hand on her thigh, “As long as you want to be with me I’m going to make sure that you’re along for the ride. I want to make sure you get to be here because you’re the one for me, angel.” It was easy to get lost in his words. Even though they hadn't said it yet it was obvious they both were in love with each other.

He watched her at the bar, her easy laughter with their friends and the way she was sipping on her beer occasionally throwing looks his way. She was so easy to get along with and he could see how a group of people could always be drawn to her. He watched her pull out a cigarette, her favorite party trick, and the amount of lighters reaching out before she even had it to her mouth made him shake his head. There was this agreement around them about jealousy and people. They both knew there were always going to be people around both of them and they had made sure to talk about what expectations were around that. If they came together they would leave together and they both knew that. Nikki sipped the bourbon looking away from her for a second to talk to someone. When he went to go check on her at the bar again she was gone.

Laughter and chatter filled the women's room. Girls pushed shoulders gently applying lipstick and helping girls fix their hair. The comradery of a women's bathroom was one of the best parts of shows. Sasha finished brightening up her lipstick, fluffing out her hair, turning to pull her shorts up higher to give even more of her ass to hang out the bottom. Her eyes caught sight of girls doing lines and her body suddenly craved the white powder. Tommy hadn’t ratted her out to Nikki about the cocaine she had been using before moving in and to her credit she had quit well she had been with him. Even though he would party she knew the way that he worried about her and it would be an issue.

“Do you want a bump?” the girl was holding out a red glass vile, smiling at her. Sasha chewed her lip, feeling her skin suddenly burning wanting it. She held out the side of her hand letting the laughing girl tap out the white powder in a small line. Before she realized what she was doing she had her nose sniffing across her finger, her whole body coming alive. She shook her head, smiling as she licked her finger to get any trace of the drug off.

“Oh fuck.” she rubbed her neck and laughed along with the girls, her heart racing as one of them dragged her out of the bathroom. Since she had gone to school and had gotten sorority sisters it had become so fun for her to have a group of girlfriends around at all times. Even if they were just strangers from the bathroom.

The group of girls had been drinking at the bar, the loud laughter as they shut out guys trying to walk up to them. Sasha, who was usually blossoming with confidence, was even more high on the attention. She leaned over the bar smiling down at the bartender and waving him over.

“Frankie, can I have the whole bottle of vodka? Please?” she put on her pouty face and when he tried to look up, probably trying to see where Nikki was so he could reel in his girlfriend, she grabbed his face, “My eyes are right here.” the girls in the group all were teetering and when the man sighed giving her the bottle she smiled her award winning smile. “Are you girls ready to have some fun?” she asked, tilting the bottle into her mouth.

Sasha was climbing up on the bar, stepping over drinks and dancing along to the music. A few of the girls had followed her up onto the wood space but weren’t casually using the space as their own dance runway. Whenever someone would complain she’d bend down, tilting their head back as she poured vodka into their mouths. Nikki spotted her and thought she was absolutely wrecked. He was pushing through the crowd wondering how in the half hour he lost her she had gotten this wasted. He watched her pour vodka into her mouth guzzling it down in a way that would make Mick proud.

“Angel.” she heard her nickname and turned quickly, bending down to where the bassist was at the corner of the bar. She tried to pour the bottle down his throat but he quickly took it from her, handing it back to the man tending bar. Watching with a slight smirk as she gave him this little pout. “I think it’s time to go.” she gave him a look and he saw her bloodshot eyes. Obviously she had drank way more than he had given her credit for. She placed her hands on his shoulders letting him lift her down off the bar. Sasha knew better than to fight to stay out. If he was ready to go home that’s where they would be going.

It was quiet as they walked back to the car and she was worried that he was mad at her. Even though Nikki had her wrapped up in his arms the silence gave her a little bit of worry. She ran her hand down his arm, resting her head against him as they walked.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked, finally getting the courage to speak. She heard the rumbling of a chuckle and looked up to see his amused face looking down at her. Nikki held her face in his hands leaning down to kiss her . The fear she had melted away from this action.

“I love how fun you are.” he eased her fears with his words and she felt better knowing that she wasn’t on his bad side. “Now, cmon, angel. If we’re leaving early I’m going to take advantage of the time that I had with you.” The smile was over both their faces as they went to the Porsche and headed home.

Tommy’s eyes narrowed, his gaze on Sasha who seemed a little flustered as the drummer of Kiss pinned her in the corner. Her usual cool demeanor changed as her eyes shifted around the room, trying to look past the man. When her eyes landed on him,, Tommy was pushing through the crowd, trying to find NIkki in the chaos backstage but needing to get to her. She reached out a hand when he was close letting Tommy yank her away from Eric. The man turned, stunned to see him giving her a once over. The way her eyes were looking made him know that she was shaken up.

“Hey man, aren’t you guys supposed to go on?” Tommy swore, he was right. He couldn’t find Nikki because he had probably already grabbed his bass and headed towards the stage. He grabbed Sasha bringing her to the side of the stage. He could see the way she was looking behind her, hugging Nikki’s jacket together around her. She was uncomfortable and had nervous energy radiating off of her.

“Listen, stand right fucking here. And if that creep comes near you, you just step onto stage. Don’t let him get you alone. I’ll deal with the prick.” He looked up at the guys on stage and sighed rushing out.

It was only the second show of the tour and Sasha already wasn’t sure if she was cut out for being on the road. As much as she loved seeing the band play and partying it was like being at a restaurant and she was the main course. Nikki was shooting glances at her from the stage. He had seen the way Tommy had placed her and had a feeling like something wasn’t right. He looked at Sasha again, smirking when he saw her singing along to the songs he had written. She was wrapped up in his jacket, covering up the tight black dress. He wished it would always be like this, the feeling of being on the stage with so many people singing his music and the cherry on top was having his girl there.

“Got ya.” The hands on her hip made her jump, her heart sinking as she realized that she had let her guard down again. She was being jerked back, her eyes leaving Nikki who had just been looking at her a second before. Her eyes went to Tommy who was slamming the drums so hard he couldn’t pay attention to her, “I’ve heard stories about the band and how they share their girls. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind helping me out.” He was pressing her hand against him as she tried to yank away. “Don’t play hard to get, sugar. I’m not into that shit.” He was pulling her towards the dressing room and Sasha was thinking if she should scream. Her eyes looked around and the last thing she wanted to do was fuck that up for them.

“Let me go.” She hissed through gritted teeth. She was trying to tear away from him but this just made the drummer hold her wrist tighter.

“I’ve warned you once.” He was by her ear, hissing in annoyance, “We only have twenty minutes before I have to go on and I want those pretty lips wrapped around my fat cock.” Sasha slammed her heel down on his foot, the spike literally piercing the boot and causing him to scream out, his hand loosened and she was kicking off her shoes running back to the main area backstage. “YOU FUCKING BITCH!” She saw the guys coming off stage and rushed over practically knocking Nikki over as she jumped into his arms.

“Hey , Angel, you disappeared for a few minutes there.” He was sweaty from the stage but he held the girl close, kissing her as she looked up at him with her wild blue eyes.

“I wasn’t done with you, sugar.” A hand was grabbing her forearm and Nikki moved her behind him stepping towards the Kiss drummer.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Nikki growled, he didn’t know who the duck this guy thought he was putting hands on his girl. He could see T-bone walking up next to him and realized now why the drummer was late to get on stage.

“Listen man, it’s your life. We all share.” Nikki felt his eyebrows furrow together. It was so easy for this guy to talk about his girl like that and he did not like that, “You can’t bring your groupie girlfriend to shows and not expect to have to share her with everyone.” Tommy was stepping up now. Touching Sasha’s shoulder to let her know it was okay before saying anything.

“That’s my fucking sister, asshole.” He realized now that he had really messed with the wrong girl.

“And that’s my girlfriend. If you touch her, fuck, if you even look at her again I’ll break your hands so you never play drums again.” Nikki warned. He turned looking at Sasha who was nervous. “Cmon, Angel.” She let him tuck her into his side as they left the building. Nikki got her into the bus and turned pulling her into his arms tightly. “Are you okay?” He whispered into her hair. His heart was pounding and all that he could think about was he was going to be leaving her for a few days alone.

“I’m fine. Nothing happened. That guys just a dickhead. You’re crushing me though.” She added poking her head out and looking up at him with a reassuring smile. He had such a serious look, a frown etched on his face. “Nikki, stop worrying about me. I’m going to be fine. I’m going to drive your car too fast, go out every night with the girls, do tons of drugs, and maybe even do amateur night at the Seventh Veil to pay the rent.” She teased him.

“If you do amateur night I want to be there.” He smiled, picking her up and moving towards his bunk. “Why don’t you help me break in the bunk and we can say our goodbyes properly?” He laid her on the bunk pulling the curtain closed behind them. “We don’t have a lot of time, angel, so let me have you. You’ve been taking your pills like a good girl, right?” he watched the way she blushes when he calls her a good girl but Nikki has realized his girlfriend is quite submissive and likes it when he talks to her like this. She nods her head and he smiles, stroking her cheek.

Sasha is shimmying out of his jacket trying to maneuver in the small space. The jacket is off and Nikki is pulling up the short dress, moaning with approval as he sees her bare pussy. Before she can think he’s running two fingers along her wetness, pushing into her core without warning and coming out covered in her honey. He’s licking hungirly, tasting her on his fingertips.

“We don’t have long.” she warned him because she can see Nikki getting carried away with all the things that he wanted to do with her. His eyes flash to hers and for a second she thinks he’s going to warn her not to rush him but instead he nodded his head. His fingers unlacing his pants.

“I’m going to take you hard and fast, Angel. You’re going to be sore tomorrow but I want you to ache for me.” she nods her head as he moves over her. Sasha reaches up, pulling him down into a kiss, tasting him. The cigarettes and whiskey overwhelmed his senses. Nikki is pushing into her, the thickness of him stretching her as her body molds to him.

“Fuck, Daddy.” he pulls away, this devilish smirk on his face hearing her call him this new nickname. Her eyes are fluttered half closed as he’s moving himself into her. HIs hands grip her hips making it so she can’t move an inch. She was always loud during sex but Nikki is kissing her now because he’s sure that if there are fans outside the bus they can hear her. He wants more of her and is ripping down the front of her dress, watching as her tits bounce as his body slams into hers. He’s never this rough with her but it’s very apparent that she’s loving it. Her wetness is slipping out of her body onto the sheets. He’s going to smell her every day he’s gone.

His fingers brush against her clit and she’s loud in the gasping moan that comes out, her mouth in a perfect circle. Needy in the way she’s pushing against him, demanding more without speaking a word aloud. Nikki feels her thighs, shaking against his body as she’s already starting to lose control.

“Cum for me angel.” he growled out, his hands phishing her back down to get her ass to go up higher., “I’m going to fill you up. You’re going to be dripping me out on your taxi ride home.” her blue eyes flash up at him and she’s so lost in the pleasure of him fucking her that she was not shy. Her usual blush was just flushed cheeks from her pleasure

“I want you to fuck me harder. Please, daddy.” She knows she got to him because NIkki’s groans loudly at her words. Not the usual pants or moans he’d barely get out. The sounds of their bodies meeting with hard wet slaps was filling the bus and her skin was raw and red from his aggression.

“Get on your hands and knees, angel. If you want it rough you’re going to get it.” Flipping over she arches her back, her ass in the air, wiggling it suggestively and gasping out when the hard slap Nikki lays on it stings her.

“NIKKI!” she looked behind her shoulder, mouth slightly open from the surprise spank. The bassist is smiling, grabbing her hips and bringing her back against her cock. It’s deeper in this position and he can hear her soft groans into the bedspread as she adjusts to him at this angle. Her fists are in the sheets and he brings her hips back. Nikki pushes up her dress, hand on her back as he’s ramming into her. She has nowhere to go and her body is shaking as drives himself deeper. HIs hand slaps her ass again, watching her head toss back and the small smile she gives him.

Her ass is rosy red from him getting over excited and slapping at it. He tells himself he needs to stop or she won’t be able to sit in the cab on the way home from the spanking. His fingers slide between her legs and he’s not sure if she’d ever been this wet for him. He let his two fingers press against her clit, feeling the motion of himself rocking into her. The sticky wet sounds filling the bunk along with her muffled pants and moans. He circles her button, opens his fingers and slides it between tugging at her nerves and feeling her seem to lift up at this.

“I want you to cum for me now. I’m ready to fill you up and I want to feel you squeezing every drop from me. Deep inside of you. Can you do that like a good girl?” She's a mess of blonde hair but he sees her nod. He wants more time to play with her and explore all the things that make her shake for him. Instead he;s rubbing her clit side to side with his other hand going to her stomach; he knows when she finished she was going to collapse. “Tell me where you want me to cum,angel. You tell me what you want.” This feral need to hear her want him is filling Nikki, as he’s trying to keep himself steady and not lose himself in her.

“I want you to fill my pussy.” He hears her gasp out as he pressed her and then she is coming apart. He watched her elbows fall and her ass is higher as he feels her squeezing around him, drawing him deeper. Nikki’s hand slides to her back to steady himself as he pushes into her, his cock twitching as he starts to fill her.

He was switching out of horny mode as he pulled out of her, his eyes smirking as her ass slid down so she was laying on the bed. It was red from his hands slapping against it and he knew it must sting. Her eyes were sleepy and he knew this was where the usually aftercare of sex came in. He felt guilty knowing she couldn’t shower and clean up right away or come into bed to wrap herself around him, letting him kiss the hickeys and marks he lovingly made. Part of her love language was the need for him to take care of her after sex.

“Angel-“

“I know I need to leave so you can leave.” She muttered, adjusting herself so her dress covered her again. Nikki laid down next to her taking her hand in his, running his thumb over her fingers. “I need to go. Sixx. You’ll be fine.” She teased nudging him out of the bunk.

Nikki helped her out, making sure to grab his jacket and wrap it around her. He could see she was uncomfortable and his mind was racing thinking of what to do or say to her. Before he could get a word out Mick was walking onto the bus.

“Your cab is outside.” Nikki felt this weird compulsion where he wanted to ask her to stay but he was afraid because she would say no. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go but it was that she had her own dreams that she needed to meet.

“I’ll see you in Vegas in a few days. Try not to get arrested. Please watch Tommy for me.” She asked with a small smile. She was in tip toes kissing him, letting him wrap her in his arms before she got off the bus with a small wave and left him to go tour.

Sasha was pulled from the hotel room, her nose slightly bleeding from all the coke she had been doing with the girls. Her sorority sisters had convinced her to get on a flight Wednesday afternoon with them to go to Vegas. She was supposed to fly in Friday morning to be with Nikki but after class that day they knew she was done for the week and had met her in a cab to drag her to the airport.

Now they had been drinking and doing drugs for the last five hours and she was so fucked up. The red leather dress she was wearing clung to every curve and left very little o the imagination. The night sky was illuminated with neon lights and they all stopped for a second to look around. It was cooler at night and she wished she had brought a jacket but before she could say anything her arm was looped with her friend Jamie and they were headed out down the Strip.

“Are you good?” Her friend asked as they went into a packed bar. Instead of giving an answer she just laughed rushing through the group and out to the dance floor, plucking a drink from someone’s hand as she went. Her body twisted around people, her head spinning as she laughed. Her friends were all around her, dancing together as they enjoyed the night with just the girls.

The phone was ringing for what seemed like the hundredth time without someone answering the damn thing. Nikki slammed the receiver down reaching for his cigarettes. She was supposed to be home hours ago. Nikki hadn’t spoken to his girlfriend in twenty four hours and was now losing his mind. Tommy burst into the room, not knowing why they weren’t out on the town together. He saw the grouchy look on the bassists face and knew what was bothering him before he even said anything.

“She’s probably out with her friends, like you should be.” Tommy motioned for the door and Nikki sighed. He should go out with the boys and enjoy Vegas. There was the chance she had picked up extra shifts at work or she was out with her girlfriends. Maybe she was going to a roller disco or spending too much money on the clothes she would tease him in until he was ripping them off. “C’mon, Sixx. There’s a nightclub downstairs and you can make fun of everyone and we can get wasted and charge a bill to one of the dudes in Kiss’s room.” He was getting up following the drummer out of the room.

“This better be fun. And she better not call when we’re out.” Nikki grumbled as they got in the elevator. He had talked to her about their schedule and there was no reason that she should be missing. Tommy did have a point about her having her own life. He wanted her to be able to have time with her friends but he was feeling codependent. And she was the first person in his life that he really missed.

He hated the music but he sat at the bar drinking anyway. Tommy was trying to find girls and blow for them well he people watched. Sasha would love it here. He could imagine her dancing to the shitty disco music, her laughter as people clapped along to songs. He was missing her so much he swore he heard the sound of her laughing. His eyes scanned the crowd and his eyes narrowed as he saw a girl that looked like one of her friends. Nikki was standing up moving through the dances in a fog. There was no way that she could be there but sure enough he saw the tight red leather dress, her hand out as her friend tapped a bump of cocaine out and her sniffing, rubbing her nose after and downing her drink. As if she sensed him, her eyes looked up meeting Nikki’s.

“Oh Shit.” he heard her mutter, the girls looked up as he got closer and they all had the sense to scatter instead of dealing with him, “Hey, Sixx. Fancy meeting you here. Lets dance.” she joked in reference to the Bowie song playing. Here she was, partying, nose red from all the coke she had been sniffing, in this tighter than life red leather dress looking like a dream. All the fears of her being dead were gone and Nikki couldn’t help but lean forward kissing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, wiggling her body and he rolled his eyes.

“One song, angel.” he warned, watching the pure delight on her face. He grabbed the red glass vile she was holding tapping out some powder on his hand and sniffing it up. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. None of this shit when we get home.” she knew he meant the drugs so she nodded. Her hands raised in the air as she wiggled closed to him.

“Let's dance, Sixx. And then you can take me up to your hotel room and give me all the love that I earned after the tour bus. I couldn’t sit right for a full day.” she gave him a pouty look and he was kissing her again thinking of dragging her up to the room now. He wanted her, all of her and it was all that he could think of.

“I wish you were wearing a white dress.” he was dragging her close.

“Way to make a girl feel good about herself.” she muttered. A teasing smile on her lips, “I thought you’d like my rock and roll outfit. I was going to rewear this for your show on Saturday but I guess not.” He looked nervous and she suddenly wondered if they had both were too fucked up. “Hey, let's just get out of here.” She was pulling him off the crowded dance floor but Nikki had this look on his face like he was realizing something.

“Would you marry me tomorrow?” He asked as they got over to where the bar was. He was looking at her and realizing things he had been taking for granted. Sasha laughed while sipping the water she had ordered to cool down.

“Of course. You know how I feel about you.” They haven’t said the words yet but she hoped he still knew. Nikki was looking at her still, the intense gaze throwing her off kilter. “Why are you looking at me like that? You’re making me nervous.” She admitted but he was grabbing her hand and not seeming to realize he was acting like a complete maniac.

“Do you know how I feel about you? Do you know how much I love you? Because I do love you. I love how you take care of me without me even realizing you’re taking care of me. I love how you gas up my music and make it seem like we’re topping the Billboard charts. You always show up, even when I was an asshole you’d come to shows and be there for us. You love me outside of the stage makeup and rockstar shoes. You love me in the kitchen making dinner or on Sundays when I watch football. You love me and not who I need to be. You know me so well and you don’t resent me. And you trust me.” He was ranting but she was listening, her eyes on him as she took in everything he was saying to her, “You’re the first person I’ve ever missed. It’s a big joke about how pouty I was leaving but, my god, when you’re not around it sucks. So please marry me tomorrow, Angel. We can elope in a little church and start our lives in true richer or poorer fashion.” Sasha realized that he was serious and that he really did want to marry her.

“April 1st. I’ll marry you on April 1st. That way you never have an excuse to forget our anniversary.” She teased. Nikki scooped her into his arms, her legs wrapping around him as he carried her into the hotel room. They had less than 48 hours to plan everything.

“Where the fuck is Tommy?” Sasha asked, turning to look around the small room she and her girlfriends were in. They were all crammed into the Vegas wedding chapel and there was this weird unspoken question with everyone wondering if this was just an April fools joke the couple was playing on everyone. But the girls had gone out to help her find the vintage lace tea length dress she was wearing. They had all gotten the red dresses to be her stand in bridesmaid and they made sure she had a bouquet of flowers. They seemed to realize when she bought a wedding ring for her soon to be husband that this wasn’t a joke for her.

Tommy burst into the room holding a couple boxes wrapped in newspaper and balancing a bouquet of pink roses on top. Sasha rushed forward grabbing the flowers before he dropped them, smiling as she sniffed the fresh buds. Tommy had on a white shirt that he had tucked into leather pants and his usual beat up Chuck Taylor’s on. He had a pink rose pinned to the denim jacket that he was wearing.

“Your groom has sent you some gifts.” He said putting them down on the table. Before she could open them he was pulling her aside, “Are you guys seriously getting married because Nikki is putting a lot of effort in and I can’t decide if it’s all just an April Fools joke or

not.” He seemed confused by everything that was going on and his head was spinning. Nikki had been so dead set against relationships and now he was going to marry Sasha after only being with her officially for maybe three months. It seemed crazy.

“You’re walking me down the aisle and I’m going to marry Nikki. But first you need to give him this.” She handed him a box that was wrapped in white paper, a gold bow on top that she made and probably took her a half hour to tie. Tommy groaned after being the errand boy. “Here, take a shot with me before you go.” She was pouring out Jack Daniels in healthy amounts into the glasses, shooting it back as he left.

Her attention shifted to the gifts on the table and she grabbed the smaller box first. Inside was a pair of Keds, she smiled seeing Nikki’s neat hand writing ‘Mrs.Sixx 4-1-83’ on the shoes. A small note inside the box said this was for her to not get cold feet. She slipped the Keds on, glad to get rid of the heels. The next box revealed a leather jacket where he had put a Motley Crue patch, a few pins, and on the back was Mrs. Sixx. Another note let her know that it was for the concert tonight. She couldn’t contain her smile thinking about how she was going to be his wife. She was so excited and didn’t have any fear in her about him. She wondered if she was stupid for not taking a second and thinking about what it would mean to be his wife. She had just wanted to be with him and she was going to do it.

Nikki tied the black boots she had bought him, smiling at how they both had very similar gifts. Instead of giving him a jacket she had made him this scrapbook. It had a ton of stuff from the start of the band she had saved, making him realize how she had been there for it all. And then there were pictures he didn’t know existed of the two of them. Images of them in the morning at the original apartment with her sitting on the windowsill and him I’m talking. There were pictures of Halloween with her in her bunny costume, a random hand that he was sure was Vince’s creeping into view to grab the tail well he had his arm around her. His favorite picture was this one where they had been talking, sitting on a stone wall and he was cupping her face. They had been talking when Tommy had snapped the picture and he had turned to look for the photo but she was looking at him with pure love.

He knew that he wouldn’t ever feel the way he did for Sasha with anyone else and as much as he joked about not getting married until the late 80s it felt like then to elope in Vegas. He still wanted to be in the band and get big and he wanted her to finish college and have her life. The marriage wasn’t going to stop either of them from having their goals but it just cemented them together. Nikki loved her. He wanted this whole life with her and he wasn’t going to rush everything else like kids but he wanted her love selfishly to himself. He wanted her to be his wife and for everyone to know that she was off fucking limits. He looked at the time and knew that it was time.

Nikki was standing at the end of the aisle, next to Elvis. He hadn’t wanted to get married by Elvis but this was really their only option in the city. Plus when they had been asked if they wanted Elvis Sasha had laughed so hard thinking it was a joke and when they had told her it was a serious option she couldn’t say no. Mick and Vince were beside him and her girlfriends standing across from them. He gulped hearing the wedding song, pulling at his leather jacket and running his palms over the black denim. He was thankful she had asked for pictures to be taken because he never wanted to forget the moment he saw her. Her vintage dress was exactly what he had imagined her in, the Keds he had made for her showing as she walked down the aisle holding his drummers arm. She gave him this smile about halfway down and Nikki was walking towards her, leaning down to kiss her before he knew what he was doing.

“Dude you’re supposed to wait until I hand her off to you.” Tommy said shaking his head, but Nikki was taking her hand walking her up to Elvis. She handed her bouquet to one of the girls and he took both her hands, kissing them.

“You’re gorgeous.” He loved seeing the pink in her cheeks and the way her blue eyes sparkled at his compliment. “I love you.” He had waited too long to say it and now he couldn’t stop telling her.

“I know.” She retorted with that big smile. Her eyes shifted to the man that was marrying them and suddenly everyone was waiting for the big April Fools announcement. But the couple was staring at each other with such intensity and saying I Do.

“I now pronounce these two hunka hunka burning lovers, as Man and Wife. You can kiss your bride.” Nikki held her face in his hands, feeling her hands on his biceps. A smile on both of their faces as they pulled away.

“Hello, Mrs. Sixx.” Nikki said softly, watching the way her blue eyes flashed in excitement.

“Hi Mr. Sixx, are you ready for your concert?” She asked as he weaved their hands together. The pair moved out of the church, rice being thrown at them like a weapon thanks to the boys. Sasha grabbed the jacket Nikki had given her, shrugging it on.

“You two really got married. That wasn’t an April’s fool joke?” Vince asked, stunned as he looked between the pair of them. Nikki had his arm wrapped around His wife, a smile on his face. The photographer was still taking pictures of them.

“I’m Mrs. Sixx now, Vinny boy. That means no more goose honking my ass.” She warned looking at the lead singer. The blonde man looked crushed by this fact. If he had known this wasn’t a joke he would have honked all morning.

“I told you it was real.” Mick told them. The couple were smiling at each other not seeming to care about the argument that everyone was having around them. Nikki kept spinning the ring on her finger. She had on a sapphire ring with diamonds around it because she had been obsessed with the Royal Wedding the summer he met her. Obsessed to the point Nikki found a hoard of magazines about it. He loved feeling the ring on her finger and loved how she looked in the leather jacket with his name on it.

“Nikki.” She said his name softly and his attention was all hers. “This is the best day of my life. I love you. I’m always going to love you. I just wanted you to know that.” The bassist had felt alone for so long and he knew now that it was them in it together.

“You and me, Angel. Forever.” He promised, sealing the deal with a kiss. They didn’t have anything but dreams and each other but they both felt like they had it all.

#Nikki Sixx #Tommy Lee Fanfiction #nikki sixx fanfiction #Nikki Sixx imagine #Nikki Sixx fan fic #Motley Crue fanfic #motley crue fanfiction #Motley Crue imagine

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chemicallady · 3 years

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Daddy is home

Greg Sanders x Reader

A/N: Thank you everyone for reading this. If you want some fluff with just a little sadness, you're in the right place.

Couple: Greg Sanders/Female!Reader

Category: Mostly fluff with a little piece of angst. Family slice of life for Greggo.

Content Warning: none

Summary: Reader is use to feel Greg absence.... but what about is own children? And Greg? What's more important? His job or his family?

*****

You are use to feel Greg absence, almost every night and, sometimes, even for days. It wasn't a big deal when you two started to see each other. You were a grad student, looking for a PhD out of town - searching for a new experience- and he was a lab tech at the crime lab in Vegas. Your relationship had worked for 5 years while you were in Salt Lake City, even if you constantly missed him so much and viceversa. He spent a lot of utahns weekends at your apartment and you came back in Nevada for every break.

After your PhD graduation you came back to Vegas and he proposed to you. It was an hard time, Warrick was dead, he had printed is first book on Vegas history and you just settled down at UNLV. You had lived togheter two months and then he proposed. Of course you said yes and the two of you had a small cerimony at the Eclipse, Catherine's casinó. It was an intimate cerimony, with your friends and co workes and relatives from Norway and (your hometown/country.)

You had worked hard on your post doc as a teaching assistant and a researcher and he has continued his job as a csi. You have always prefered working at night the days you didnt have any class, in order to be awake when he came back home in the morning.

It worked since you discovered that you were pregnant. Both of you were so excited to become parents, it has always been something that you desire, having your own kids. Start a family.

After Bjorn birth, by the way, everything changed. You have started to work in the morning and sleeping at night in order to provide the best standard of living for your son. And, after two years and half, Jodie came to the world, complicating thing but coloring your life even more.

You constantly miss Greg, of course. You miss your youth with him, the mornings spent in making love with jazz music in the background before a lazy afternoons sleeping in his arms. The days he came to the University after job to pick you up.

But both of you love your family.

It's stil working.

Because you love him and Greg loves you more than anything.

More than that, he is born to be a dad. He was scared as hell, but he perfect fits that role.

Even more, he is methodical.

He is really good in keeping job separating from his personal life, even if his coworkers are his family. And yours as well.

☆

...But is hard for kids to understand why dad is never home. Especially for Bjorn, who is the eldest. He has started to notice this situation in the last weeks and you have been scared of this moment since you gave birth to him.

《 Why daddy can't come today?》

You look at your baby boy, feeling really sorry for the whole situation. It is his first baseball match with the pre school team as a player in the field from the first minute and it means a lot to him.

Bjorn's really smart for his age, he understand that his parents jobs are important because is a duty... But is natural that he feels so betrayed. He is still too young to even imagine how demanding is Greg's job.

《Because daddy has a case》, you try to explain with a soft voce, caressing his blonde hair with two fingers. He seems totaly like his father in this moment. 《He has to catch this big bad guy and-》

《Why uncle Nick is not catching him for daddy? Just for today! 》

《Because they work togheter, sweetheart... you know that. We already talk about daddy's job...》

Not in a specific way, of course. Greg is more like a super hero to Bjorn.... he is too innocent and young to know how cruel and horrible could be the world sometimes.

《It's not fair. He never came to see me play》

《That's not fair... you know that daddy is so sad for this... he ask me to shot everything so he can see it as long as he will be home!》

That doesn't help.

《And I'll be already in bed》 he snuffles, before running in his room, nearly cry.

You don't know how to manage this. Both of Greg and you are really indipendent.... that's why your wedding is so strong, because you don't need the other around one all the time.

But for Bjorn is different. He needs his daddy as he needs you. Most of that, he wants to make Greg proud of him, shows him how he has improved thanks also to their weekend practices on Sundays.

You are still thinking about a solution, but Jo start to cry from her playbox.

You have to speak with your husband and decide what tell to Bjorn, togheter.

He deserves a good explanation.

☆

It's late when Greg comes home.

He is surprised when he notice that the kitchen lights are still turned on. You are sitting at the table, looking at your laptop as you can't really see it.

《 y/n, baby?》, he calls you, waking you up from your thoughts. 《Are you ok? It's like 3 in the morning, sweetie.》

《Yeah, I was looking over some notes from next week semenary when I realised how late it was, I decided to wait for you to come back.》

《Thanks, after a couple of double shifts, I really need to speak with my wife》, he says with a smile, before kisses your lips and take a sits next to you. 《I've missed home in those last two days.》

《Have you slept a little?》, you ask worried. When a case is so demanding, the team works till they are exhausted. 《Did you have a propel meal?》

《...I ate two sandwiches Dr Robbins' wife made for us.》

《....there is some roast left. I'm gonna warm it for you and then I'll put you in the bed at least for nine hours, bright man》

He laughts a little. 《Yes ma'am.》

You stand up, caressing his hair, after place a kiss on his head. 《Tell me about the cause. Was that bad?》

《More like a nightmare....》

He starts talking about the brutal abductions he was working on those last days. In the meanwhile you are cooking for him. You open a good bottle of wine your father sent to you last week and prepare a couple of fine glasses. Is not a problem for you when Greg talks about his job. For some unknown reasons, it grows on you during the years togheter. You also have helped the team sometimes with you competences. It's quite normal for the two of you speaking about your day. It helps to split away the stress and find always your connection. And is always reliving for you see that even if the job is so demanding physically and emotionally, Greg can totaly handle it. Not only. He loves is job. Even in dark days like this one.

《Poor girls....》, is the only thing you can say, while you're watching your husband eat like he was starving. 《No one deserve this kind of fate...》

《Think at the parents 》, he observes, moving his elbows quickly. 《If someone would have done something like that on Jodie, I'd went mad.》

You stop thinking about the case immediately.

《Sorry for the unhappy connection.... but if you are not too tired, we need to speak about our boy.》

Greg looks at you surprised. 《What about him? Bad day?》

《Yes》, you answer, surprising him even more. Bjorn is really talented in sports, unlike his father. 《He played 10 minutes than he had an argument with the coach and spent the rest of the afternoon warming the bench.》

This is unusual. Bjorn is a good lad. Always smiley and obedient at preschool. Teachers love him because he is so good and he knows a lot about science and stuff even if he is four. Mom is an academic, a college professor and daddy is a scientist. How could be different? He is also responsible and he always take serious the baseball trainings. That's the first time he disobey this much.

《What happened y/n? Oh, no. Let me guess.》 You look him cover his own face with a hand. 《He is mad at me, isn't he?》

《Yep babe, he is really mad at you. And at me as well. By now, I think he is mad at the world because you didn't come today.... I explained him that's not your fault, but...》

Greg sighs 《But it is my fault. When he born I swore to God that I'd be a good father even if my job is.... the 70% of my life.》

《But you are》, you say with a stubborn tone in your voice. 《You are a good father. It was just and unfortunate Saturday. He have never missed a game before. You'd be there if it wasn't for the case. 》

《I know but he deserves more than all those 'if' statements. 》 You look at him, feeling the heaviness of this thoughts. 《I should stay in the lab.》 He finally says and you realise a long sigh. This is not going to be an happy conversation, not with your regretting husband weak moment. 《The moment I met you, I knew you were the one. I wanted to start a family before changing job, work on field. It was a stupid decision. If I continued to work as DNA tech we would have more money and more time to spend all togheter.》

《.... I throught we were out with 'if' statements.》

《Y/n, honey-》

《Don't you dare 'honey' me, Greg Sanders.》 You stop him. You keep his hand in yours and smile. 《You are an amazing father. One day, when he will be older and wiser, he will understand. Now is easy to handle the situation. If you spend a day with him, he'll forget about it. Is just a kid, G.》

Greg seems not satisfied. He feels like an idiot, not thing about how mad is son would be noticed his absence. But he also trust your judgement. He always says that you are an amazing mom and even more, the best of wives.

So he smiles back.

《Maybe you are right.》

《Maybe?》, you ask with an ironical tone. He stand up and comes near to you. He offers his hand and you keep it, staning on your feet.

《Sorry Dr Sanders》, he replies, while you are wrapping your arm on his neck. 《You're completely right y/n. I'm already planning an afternoon, just for boys.》

《He'll love it》, you reassure him, before asking for another kiss, with more passion. You both find a good arrangement so you can clean the kitchen and try to sleep at least three hours.

.....or maybe do something more interesting with you husband, who seems to have plans, looking the way he is lifting the t-shirt of your pijama....

You are use to feel Greg absence, that's true.

But when he comes back, well.... that's the moment you realise how much you actually have missed him. And how much you love him and be loved in return.

○Fin○

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