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#excuse me while i ramble about vegas thanks
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Waking up in Vegas {Chapter 1: Welcome to Hawkins.}
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PAIRING: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader WC: 5k CW: Minors do not interact!! No use of y/n, use of she/her pronouns, slow burn, mentions of being drunk, memory loss due to being drunk, controlling boyfriend, SUMMARY: Waking up after your bachelorette party, you have no memory of the night before, all you know is that your engagement ring is missing, it's not your hotel room, and there is a piece of paper telling you that you're married to Eddie Munson. AUTHOR NOTES: Here it is everyone, the first part of Waking up in Vegas, feed back is very appreciated. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you once again to @entermxnson for reading it and putting up with my rambling about it. But also being the whole inspiration for the character along with your original character. Credit to @cafekitsune for the amazing divider. NEXT CHAPTER
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It was nearly 2 in the afternoon when you finally opened your eyes. Your mouth tasted like ash and vodka. Your brain was fuzzy, details from the night before just out of reach. Lifting your head from the pillow, you surveyed what you could while lying on your front. Your eyes met the bright lights of the Vegas daytime. A groan fell from your lips as you let your head drop back down and turned into the pillow. 
What happened last night?
Why do you have a vague memory of a wedding chapel?
“Sleep, good.” You mumbled, turning your head from the pillow to the rest of the room. “What…?” Sitting up, you looked around the room. It wasn't your suite. Was this even your hotel? Scrambling up, you started to look for your phone, for the owner of this room, for anything!
Your phone was connected to a charger across the room by the bar. Rushing there, you picked it up and looked at it. Twenty-four missed calls. Panic set in as you began to look through your missed calls. Your best friend called you sixteen times, your other friends a mix of four times, and then there was your fiancé Adam, he'd called. Did he know something? 
You questioned who to call first. Jenny could fill in the blanks. You scrolled to her number, your finger hovering over the call button. However, you noticed something. Sat on your left ring finger instead of your engagement ring was a skull ring. Dropping the phone, you lifted your hand to look at the ring. It wasn’t ugly, just not so much your style, closer to something you'd wear than the weird band that Adam got you and called an engagement ring. Your blood ran cold as you stared at it, as your fingers ran over the skull, hoping to remember even a breadcrumb from last night.
A sharp knock on the door caused you to drop your hand and look up at the high-powered-looking woman with a headset. “Yes sir, on it.” She held her finger up to tell you one moment. Raising an eyebrow, you felt annoyed. She barged in and then was too busy to talk to you?“I'm about to talk to her now, okay? Have a good time.” She smiled as she spoke on the phone. It quickly dropped as she turned to look at you. Oh great, a bitch.
“Hi, I'm Tammy Thompson. I’m  Mr. Munson’s assistant. I'm here to tell you it's time to get out and back into whatever hole you crawled out of. I can't stand you groupies.” She said, rolling her eyes and tutting.
“Excuse me? What gives you the right to talk to me like that?” You couldn't help but feel anger. Who did she think she was? “Look, I woke up here. I have no memory of last night, and I don't even know whose damn room this is!” Your head was pounding. You wanted to get out of here as much as she wanted you gone, but you needed answers.
“You're in Eddie Munson’s hotel room, lead singer of Corroded Coffin. Mr. Munson would've been here to throw you out himself, but his best friend is getting married soon. He had to be on the first flight back to Indiana this morning.” This girl had an attitude. You couldn’t tell if she was jealous about you being in here or she was simply a damn bitch.
“Wait… did you say, Eddie Munson?” The question left your lips. You looked at the ring again. You knew that ring. You’d stared at it while watching your favourite band play music. 
“Yes, I did. Now you have five minutes to get your shit and get out of here!” She told you before turning to leave. “Oh, and don't take anything that isn't yours, I'll know.” She walked out and shut the door.
“Fucking bitch.” You grumbled. Picking up your phone, you looked around for your bag and went through it. Finding a piece of paper folded neatly, you pulled it out and looked at it. It was a marriage certificate, and the names were yours and Eddie. 
“Come on, time is up!” Tammy said, walking back into the room. It hadn't even been five minutes.
“I need to find my boots.” You weren’t leaving without your Doc Martens with the flowers up the side. They were your favourite shoes. Tammy tutted as you walked around looking for them. 
“You have them, get out.” 
“I'd fire your ass if I was your boss.” You growled before walking out, bag and shoes in hand. You'd sort them in the lobby. You didn't care. You simply needed to get out of this damn room.
You sat in the corner of the lobby. You put on your boots and took deep breaths. You'd gotten married last night. How were you meant to tell your fiancé that? Getting up, you left the hotel and got your phone out. You called Jenny, swallowing hard, as you waited for her to answer.
“Where the hell have you been? I've been worried sick!” You smiled at the sound of her voice.
“I'll explain when I get there. I'm on my way to the hotel now. Jen, I'm going to need your help.” You told her as you flagged down a cab to take you to the hotel you and your friends were staying at.
“Whatever you need, I'll meet you in your room. The girls are sunbathing right now, I told them you were asleep, food poisoning.” You could always rely on her.
“Thanks, Jen, I'm getting in a cab now. See you soon.” You hung up the phone and sighed, What a morning. 
You were soon back in your room. Jen was there waiting with a bottle of water and some pain relief. 
“You're a star. You're such a star.” You said, putting down your bag and taking the painkillers with the water.  
“So, what happened last night? I stepped outside to call Danny. You know, to reassure him that his pitch would go well. When I came back in, you were gone.” Jen said as she lounged on your bed.
“I don't know…” You admit as you sit on the edge of the bed. “But I found this in my bag.” You pulled out your marriage certificate and handed it to Jenny. 
There was a moment of silence. The pair of you just stared at the piece of paper.
“This is real…”
“Yep.”
“You got married.”
“Yeah…”
“You're getting married in six weeks.”
“I know.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don't know Jen.” 
You throw yourself back on the bed. Your hands cover your face partly to shield the light, to hide your face from the world.
“You have to tell Adam.”
“I can't!”
“What do you mean you can't? Me and Danny tell each other everything!”
“I can't because he didn't want me to come on this trip. I can't tell him that I got married!” You groan. 
“Right… maybe you could get it annulled?”
Sitting up, you look at Jen. as a plan forms in your head. You get up and start packing your stuff.
“What are you doing?” She asks, confused.
“I go to Hawkins. I know he's there. I get him to sign the papers, then boom! I'm free to marry Adam.” You tell her as you grab a change of clothes. “Here's my credit card. Will you book me on the next flight, okay?” You tell Jen before running to the bathroom to shower and change.
“Is it booked?” You questioned as you stepped out of the bathroom, brushing your hair.
“Yeah, but I feel like you're crazy for doing this.” 
“I need to do this. I will be there and back.”
“I get that, but you're going alone… let me come with you.” 
You shook your head, walked over to her, and hugged her tightly. You appreciated her concern, and you did. But you had to do this, and you couldn't help but admit that you were excited about the prospect of an adventure.
“I'll be okay, alright?” You assured her as you pulled out of the hug. “I'm going to call Adam and tell him my deadline for my book got moved forward. I'll tell him you are helping me with the wedding while I'm gone and that any big decisions have to be emailed to me, okay?” 
“But… what?”
“I love you. I'll call you when I land. I'll be gone for less than a week.” You promised before you grabbed your bags and left. Jenny stood there stunned, surprised that you were doing this and that she couldn't talk you out of at least not going alone.
You couldn't believe you were doing this. You could feel your heart thumping hard as you drove to the airport. The main thing you feared was telling Adam you were going away for a few days. He never liked it when you left. You didn't like it much either, to be honest, but you were doing what you had to do so that you could still get married. It was all arranged. Guests were flying in from around the country. You couldn't back out now because you'd done something stupid while drunk.
Getting a coffee (once you checked in), you found yourself somewhere to sit and took a deep breath while waiting for your flight. You took your phone out and stared at the screen. Another four phone calls from Adam. You rubbed your head and tried to prepare yourself to lie to your fiancé.
“Where the fuck have you been? I've been calling you all fucking morning!” 
“I've been unwell.” Maybe lying to Adam wouldn’t be hard at all.
“What the fuck do you mean? Nursing a hangover?” He snapped at you.
“No, I had food poisoning. Jen warned me not to eat gas station sushi.” You forced an awkward laugh. Adam was silent. You held the phone tightly.
“Listen, my publisher called. They're bringing forward the date of my book. So I'm going away for a few days to finish it.” You explained, holding the phone from your ear, ready for him to yell.
“We're getting married in six weeks, you need to finish planning the Damn wedding. Never mind your fucking book.”
His words hurt. He never seemed to want you to have a career, and this was a big deal to you.  He didn't give a fuck. It hurt every time the conversation came up. 
“I have to go. My flight is boarding.” You hung up before he could say anything else. You sat there staring at the floor, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. You couldn't help but wonder if this marriage to a stranger was a sign from the universe telling you that you shouldn’t marry Adam. You'd had so many thoughts about it lately, so much doubt bubbled inside. But everyone told you it was simply nerves.
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“Are you ready for your surprise?” Jenny questioned as the girls piled into your room carrying champagne and a bottle of tequila.
“Uhh, I think so.” You glanced at the girls, each with a knowing smirk. Jenny stepped forward and offered you an envelope.
“Happy bachelorette party Sweetie.”
You never wanted to come to Vegas. It was so very out of your comfort zone. You had wanted to go to a spa, maybe a trip to London for a few days. There were things you’d do instead of Vegas. They insisted. You had no choice, and they bullied you into it.
Ripping the envelope, you pulled out the tickets and looked at them. Your mouth fell open as you stared at the name, the date, and the venue.
“You got me corroded coffin tickets? For tonight for the intimate session.” You managed to say slowly, shock clear on your face.
“We wanted to give you a night you'll remember.” The girls couldn't help but giggle, almost like they knew something you didn't.
“Thank you!” You stood up and threw your arms around Jenny. You knew it was her who had arranged this.
“They were sold out. How did you?” You asked as you pulled back and looked at the artwork on the tickets.
“Danny, his company did some work for one of Eddie Munson’s friends. He asked on my behalf, and they called Eddie himself. here we are in Vegas with tickets.” Jenny explained as she started to hand out glasses to everyone.
“A night to remember.” Arianna, one of your other bridesmaids, said, holding up her glass. You all clinked the glasses together and drank the champagne. 
“Let's go girls.”
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Arriving in Hawkins, the sun had long since set. You found yourself fighting the uneasy feeling bubbling in your stomach. The small town made you think of horror books that you'd read cover to cover. A small town with a stranger arriving, seemed like the start of one of them.
The satnav directing you toward your hotel. A need to put your head down bubbling inside of you. But you seemed to have missed it again and again because you didn't see it on the street. Parking in frustration, you climbed out of the car and headed to the grocery store across the street. Praying, someone inside could help you find where you were going.
“Yes, I have the popcorn, and yes I'm on my way.” 
As you headed inside, your head full of thoughts, you collided with someone. Their groceries spilt on the floor.
“Oh god, I'm so sorry.”
“No, it's okay. I wasn't looking where I was going.” 
The pair of you bend down to pick up the items.The brown-haired girl tells you that you don't need to help, but you can't help but feel responsible and help her pick it all up.
“You're not from around this area, are you?” The brunette asks once you are both stood up, with her holding her bag.
“Is it that obvious?” You can't help but bite your lip nervously.
“Yeah. But I mean that I know most people around my age. We all went to the same high school.” 
“Small town…” You mumble.
“I'm Robin, welcome to Hawkins. How long are you staying for?”
You smile as she holds out her hand. Taking it and shaking you tell her your name. Unsure how to answer the rest.
“Not long, I have some business… which I can't even start because I can't find my hotel. Do you know where the Hawkins Inn is?”
Robin grinned, nodding and gave the instructions. It was just a damn road, that you'd driven down that road three times. How could you have missed it repeatedly?
“Thanks, hopefully, I'll be able to find it.”
“No problem, have a nice night.”
“Wait!”
Robin looked surprised at your outburst.
“Sorry… umm I'm trying to find someone while I'm here, I do you think you could help me with that?”
“Sure, what's the name?”
“Eddie Munson.” 
You watched Robin tense up slightly as she looked at you. You weren't sure if she realised.
“Name doesn't ring a bell, sorry.”
“Oh, no worries. Thanks anyway.” You smiled and walked off into the store, as the conversation ended.
Robin watched you as you disappeared into the store. Sshe pulled out her phone and dialled a number.
“Steve, Is Eddie there yet?”
“I thought you were on your way. You forgot the popcorn didn't you?”
“Shut up Dingus! Is Eddie there yet?”
“No, he's not. What's going on Robin?”
“Warn him there's another one.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Steve, are you questioning me?”
“I just..”
“Steve, she's hot, dressed in Doc Martens, ripped jeans, and a band t-shirt. She's one of them and asked if I knew him.”
“Alright, I'll tell him he's just arrived with Dustin. I'll let him know.”
“Remind him to warn Wayne this time too!”
“Okay, hurry up I am hungry.”
You walked into the Inn, food in hand and suitcase in the other. It was cute, stuck in the eighties. You looked around as you made your way to the desk. Ringing the bell, a guy with scruffy hair that smelled of weed scrambled out from the back.
“Welcome to the Hawkins Inn. My name is Jonathan. How can I help you?”
“I was hoping to get a room?”
“Well, that is what it's here for. How many nights?”
“Umm, can we go day by day? I'm not sure how long I'll be here.”
“Sure, just fill this out.” He said, slipping across a piece of paper. Filling it out, you glanced at him as he rocked back and forth in his heels. 
“Here.” 
Slipping across the paper, you looked at him curious if you could take advantage of the fact that he was high as a Damn kite.
“Hey, don't suppose you know where I can find the Munson family would you?”
“Oh yeah, Wayne lives in Forest Hill Trailer Park.”
“Thank you.” You say as you hand him your credit card for him to run. You had a lead. Thank god for that. This time tomorrow,it would be all over.
“No problem.”
You turned to walk away, and he grabbed your arm.
“You forgot your card.” 
“Thanks, Jonathan.” 
Taking your bank card, and room key. You slipped one into your wallet and carried the other. Making your way upstairs, you searched for your room. You couldn’t wait for your shower, and to fall into bed.
You slept like a log. Resting your head on the pillow after eating caused you to crash out pretty quickly. It was no surprise, that after all you'd been through, when you woke up to see it was almost eleven. 
You showered and dressed quickly, knowing you needed to get moving. You left your hair down, wanting it to dry naturally. Getting your bag ready for the day, you let out a small sigh as the nerves started to rise. Glancing at yourself in the mirror as you finished your makeup, you weren't sure if you were nervous or scared about what you were about to do.
By the time you got to the lobby, you knew the answer. You were terrified about this; the idea of having to face Eddie when you had no real memory of meeting him made your stomach twist and turn. Faking a smile, you nodded at the clerk behind the counter. 
“Could you charge another night to my room, please.” You questioned handing over the card for your room. They nodded simply and sorted it before you left for your car. 
Getting inside, you took a deep breath and put in the address to the satnav as you took some deep breaths. The trailer park wasn’t that far away. Following the route you found yourself at the trailer park in no time. The only problem was you had no idea which was the Munson’s. 
You drove around searching for the mailbox that said Munson. You must've circled that place three or four times searching for the right place. You needed to find it. Needed to be at the right place.
Pulling over, you stared at the old battered mailbox, butterflies bubbling up in your stomach. Climbing out of the car, you tried to prepare yourself, but nothing could however. Reaching for the door, you knocked. You felt as if you could hardly breathe. A familiar sick feeling began to rise inside you.
“Yeah? What do you want?” Asked a middle aged man, as he opened the door. You couldn’t help but study him, short hair, beard, plaid shirt and jeans. Wayne Munson.
“Hi, I'm looking for Eddie Munson.”
The man rolled his eyes. He looked at you as if you were something he'd stepped in.
“Another one of you, really? I'm getting really fucking fed up. If it's not reporter’s it's groupies. I will tell you what I tell all of you. Fuck off!”
He went to slam the door in your face. You felt rather startled by his outburst. You just stood there frozen; as the door shut.
Taking a deep breath, you knocked again. 
“What part of fuck off do you not understand?” Wayne yelled at you as he opened the door again.
“Please…” You managed to say.
“I've heard it all before. Please I am his biggest fan. Please, I just want to see his room. Please can you just give me some comments about his childhood? Listen girl, there is nothing you can say that will make you invite you inside.” 
“I'm not a reporter or a groupie. I am a writer, I write fiction,, but that's beside the point.  Also a fan, but that's beside the point. I need to find him. I married him in Vegas. My wedding is in six weeks, please.”
Wayne stopped. He stared at you, with a look of surprise. That was a new one for him. He couldn't help but feel shocked by this. 
“I'm going to need proof,” Wayne told you as he leaned on the doorway. He folded his arm’s across his chest, unsure of how truthful you were.
“I have our certificate and ring.” You held your hand out to show him the ring that you hadn't taken off yet. You weren't going to until you had your engagement ring back. Pulling out the paper, you opened it and showed him.
“Fucking hell Eddie,” Wayne mumbled as he looked at the certificate and rubbed his face.
“Do you know where I can find him? It's important.” 
“Yeah, but why not come in and have a coffee first? We can talk for a little, I can know what it's like to have a niece-in-law.” 
You laughed gently and nodded.
“I'd appreciate that, thank you.” You said as you stepped into the trailer.
Your eyes scanned around the childhood home of Eddie Munson. It was a nice place. It felt very homely. You were never one to judge where people lived. It wasn't your style. The only you ever cared about were people being happy and healthy. You noticed a couple of pictures of Eddie on the wall and couldn't help but look at them. 
You stopped on one picture, the girl from last night with Eddie and a few other people. It made sense she was tense because she was protecting her friend. You weren't mad at her. You couldn't be. You'd have done the same.
“That's Eddie and his friends when he graduated.”
You smiled. They looked happy. Especially Eddie. 
“It was just before he became famous,” Wayne explained as he walked over and handed you a coffee. “Three times to graduate,  he did it. He never gave up.” 
“Was that after the… incident?” Any Eddie fan worth their weight knew the incident. A few years ago, Eddie was accused of killing several people in Hawkins, it turned out it was the person blaming him that was the real killer.
“Yeah, it was. I'm not sure if Eddie truly healed from that. I know he still has the scars on his body from Jason, but mentally seeing someone murdered stays with you.”
Chrissy Cunningham was Jason’s first victim. She and Eddie were sort of friends. That was what you understood. Must of been incredibly hard.
“I imagine so. He overcame it and got revenge in fantastic style. Everyone knows his name. He's a worldwide icon now and from what you said people show up here trying to meet him.”
You smiled gently and sat down with him. He simply smiled and nodded at your words. You had a lot of questions and wanted to keep talking about Eddie’s past. You needed to find Eddie.
“So you and Eddie got married. Why didn't he bring you to Dustin’s wedding?”
You laughed an awkward sort of laugh, truth time seemed.
“I think he wanted to leave me with Tammy.”
Wayne winced and laughed. “That bitch, she's jealous of Eddie’s fame and takes it out on everyone else.”
“I noticed. But the truth is, I don't even remember meeting Eddie. Or marrying him.”
Wayne looked at you confused. You sighed, telling him the story about what happened. You bit your lip as you finished, struggling to make eye contact with him.
“That sounds about right for my boy, though I have to say if he did something crazy; there would've been a reason. Normally he has a pretty good one.”
“Do you know where I can find him? I need to get this annulled before I get married in six weeks. Truth is, I haven't even been to a lawyer yet. I don't know if it's possible to, but I need to find him.” 
Wayne smiled and nodded softly. “I get it. You need to see him and get it all sorted. I imagine your fiancé isn't too happy with this.”
“He doesn't even know.” You admitted. 
“Oh, let's get this sorted as fast as possible for you.” 
“Thank you, Wayne.”
Wayne grinned and told you that you were welcome. You chatted for a while, drinking coffee and simply getting to know each other. He was a kind man. You were sure Eddie was very fond of him.
“He should be at a suit fitting right now, so I'd recommend going there. If he isn't there, call me.” Wayne said as he wrote down his number for you. 
“I will, thank you, Wayne.” You repeated as you stood up. “Thank you for the coffee to. First time in a long time, it's been perfect.” You admitted, he grinned. 
“You're welcome. Now go on before he leaves there.” 
As you left, he told you the name of the store. You hoped you'd be there in time, hoped that you'd not miss him. You drove to the store a little faster than you should of. This was the first solid lead you had to rush. It was on a time limit.
Stepping into the store, you looked around not able to find him. You had a rush of memory as you saw a bride and her mother looking at dresses. She was so happy, so giddy. You didn't remember that feeling. You'd been nervous and awkward. You’d struggled to get excited, it was more Jenny and your mother who were excited. 
Shaking your head, you looked around for someone who worked there. Spotting them looking around, clearly judging all customers. You rolled your eyes. Walking over to the worker, you smiled. 
“Hi, I was wondering if you had a groom and party in?”
The woman looked at you like you were some sort of freak. It was almost as if she thought you were a stripper or something.
“My husband is in the group, He forgot his wallet.” Lying seemed to be getting a little easier, but then he was your husband. You just had no idea about his wallet.
“Oh, you mean the Henderson party. I'm afraid they left about ten minutes ago.” She replied with a sneer, causing you to scrunch your nose.
“Oh, okay. Thank you anyway.” You replied, killing her with kindness.
Stepping outside, you sighed. Ten minutes too late, of course, you were. Frustration seeped into you as you walked back to your car. You pulled out your phone on the way and called Wayne. 
“Hey, he'd already left when I got here.”
“Damn. I'm sorry. I'll call Eddie, get him to meet you somewhere, okay? It will save you from being given the run around after him all day.”
“Okay, thank you for this Wayne,”
“No problem, I'll call once I have a meeting place.”
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Eddie
Getting into his truck with Steve and Dustin, the group were laughing and joking. They'd just tried on their suits for the wedding, not really Eddie’s style. But as Dustin had said whatever his Suziepoo wanted; she got. Even if it was a weird powder blue.. 
Sometimes Eddie wondered if it was actually Dustin’s choice and Suzie was just the poor scapegoat for his poor taste. 
“I still think I should be the best man,” Steve mumbled as he leaned back.
“This is the deal, Steve, he's mine, you are his, I'm yours. Remember, friends' style.” 
“Did you honestly give this deal a nickname, Henderson?” Eddie asked chuckling..
“Of course he did, and it's where he got the idea from.” 
The boys laughed together as Eddie’s phone started to ring. 
“If it's Tammy, I'm making muppet noises!” Steve declared as they waited for Eddie to answer the phone.
“This is Eddie Munson, bestest best man so much more than Steve speaking. How can I help you?”
“Hi, Eddie.”
“Uncle Wayne, hey! What's going on?” Eddie asked with a grin. “Sorry, I haven't been over yet, Dustin, and Suziepoo have had me running ragged.”
He got a hit for that from Dustin.
“It's alright. You're busy as long as you come to see me before you go. Anyway, I've had a young woman here today.”
“I don't want to know about your sex life,” Eddie said, making a grossed-out face and making the guys laugh.
“Eddie.”
“Yeah?” He asked. His tone becoming serious, as he heard the tone in Wayne’s voice.
“Your wife is looking for you.”
The truck fell silent. The guys stared at Eddie as he moved his hand to the ring hanging around his neck next to his guitar pick.
“Eddie?”
Hearing Wayne's voice again, Eddie snapped out of his trance.
“Y-yeah?”
“She's trying to find you. I said I'd give her a location. Where do you want to meet her?”
“Enzos, 8 o'clock. I'll make the reservation under Baggins.”
“I'll tell her, she seems nice.”
“Yeah, she is,” Eddie mumbled gently.
“Bye, son.”
“Bye.”
The line went dead, the truck was silent for a moment before Steve leaned forward and looked at Eddie.
“So, who was your best man?”
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Taglist: @entermxnson @hellfirenacht @ali-r3n @bookdrunkdemigod @peachysink @emotionaldreamer
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ellie-24 · 2 years
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Behind the scenes
Summary: So this a prequel to my story Maybe one day. But you don't have to read it in order to understand this one. Enjoy!:)
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: pills, addiction, mentions of blood, talks of Gladys' death
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Working for Elvis Presley truly was a once in a lifetime opportunity. So it wasn't really a hard choice to leave your job in Memphis behind and get introduced to this crazy show world and Las Vegas. Meeting him was an certainly experience in itself, his whole persona was just magnetic. You could tell he absolutely lived the rockstar image, which actually made you a bit wary of him at first. Though he was charismatic and charming he could get intimidating as hell when he wanted to.
Over the course of your first week working for him the two of you developed a kind of routine. You started to get to know his habits and got more involved in his schedule, which made you more than happy. After a few days of being more or less close to him you knew just exactly how and when he liked his coffee, when he would eat and what he liked, you made some phone calls for him, picked up things he needed and you would clean his suite every evening. He also asked you to pick up his prescribed medications a few times and while this kind of worried you, he really shouldn’t perform when he felt sick, you tried to put on a neutral face as this was really none of your business. The only thing you couldn’t really figure out in this week of being closer to him was, ironically, him.
It was this one evening after another successful show where you would catch a glimpse of him behind the scenes. Although nothing about it seemed out of the ordinary at first. Like every evening you would leave the after show party early in order to clean his suite while he remained downstairs and got his usual high on women and alcohol. You had finished cleaning and were just busy ironing one of his jumpsuits that he wanted to wear for the next show tomorrow when you heard the door to the suite open. You watched him enter with his wet hair sticking to his forehead and a towel around his neck that he now dabbed against his sweaty face. 
"Oh Mr. Presley! You’re early tonight!" you said as he looked over to you with a surprised look on his face. "I'm almost done here." you added, not wanting to bother him. Normally you would be long gone by the time he would arrive.
"Well darlin’ the party was rather boring." he shrugged. "But what a lovely surprise it is to see you here." he drawled, gesturing in your direction. "Should’ve come up earlier." he smirked.
You quickly got used to his almost constant flirting, so you just laughed and rolled your eyes at him.
"And I already told you to call me Elvis.
Mr. Presley makes me feel even older than I already am."
 "Of course, Elvis. Sorry." you said. "Shall I order your usual food right now?"
"Yes, baby that would be great thank you." 
With that he excused himself to the bathroom to take a quick shower, as you picked up the phone to call the kitchen staff and place his food order. You then quickly wanted to finish ironing the jumpsuit when he suddenly emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, a robe lazily hanging off his broard shoulders. You tried not to stare at the hairy chest peeking from underneath the deep v neck of his robe and the way his wild hair was sticking to all direction, rid of any products. He sat down on the couch but instead of turning on the tv set as he usually did he watching you intently. You started to grow nervous under his intense gaze and threw him a quick smile before resuming your work. Yet you still felt his eyes shamelessly wandering over your body. You cleared your throat and started talking, the silence between you becoming too much to bear for your nerves.
"I know I’ve told you so many times already but your performance tonight was absolutely brilliant!" you rambled and clasped your hands together.  "Really you completely blew my mind... you seem to do that with every show." you smiled softly.
Elvis kept his intense gaze fixated upon you. He knew what you wanted, what every woman wanted from him, really. He hasn’t gotten any action today anyway, so he slowly got up from the couch and approached you with a slurred "That’s really sweet of you darlin’."
He was so close to you now that you could feel his body heat radiating off of him and the scent of his cologne clouded your senses. His massive frame towered over you and you got even more flustered. He licked his lips and watched you squirm with a shit-eating grin on his face. "You’re really pretty you know that sweetheart?"
You swallowed hard when you felt his warm hands caress your bare arms, his fingertips incredibly rough from playing the guitar for years. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt a hand grabbing the hair at the back of your neck, while the other grasped your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. You felt hot and cold at the same time, but then little alarm bells started ringing in your head.
No. No this couldn't happen.
First of all, he was your boss and this would create a highly inappropriate work situation, which you weren’t comfortable with. You didn’t want to endanger your job at all costs, as you were now to not only able to take care of yourself, but also support your parents due to the considerable salary. Second of all you really didn’t want to be another one of his flings. You saw the way the women clung to him within the last two weeks and how he would take some of them up into this very suite, only to never see them again.
No. No this just couldn't happen.
"Mr. Presley… what are you doing?" you whispered tentatively, his fingers now brushing along your cheek.
"Elvis." he whispered, correcting you.
He started to lower his head, almost touching your lips. You started to back away a little bit and he pulled you closer again. He shushed you gently, thinking you wanted to play coy with him and lowered his head again, coming dangerously close. 
However when you started putting your hands against his chest, pushing him away from you firmly, he finally backed away and looked at you with a stunned expression. With a deep breath you hugged yourself and took another step backwards. For a few seconds you just stared at each other, as if desperately trying to read each others thoughts.
You, on the one hand, started regretting what you just did. What if you pissed him off? What if he took your rejection badly? Your mind worked at lightning speed trying to figure out what to do next. Your palms started to sweat and your heart started beating so fast, you were almost worried he could hear it. You already saw yourself in a plane back to Memphis. The silence was, again, deeply uncomfortable but this time you didn’t dare to say anything.
Elvis, on the other hand, felt guilty. The way you were standing two steps away with him, hugging yourself and looking at him without that usual twinkle in your bright eyes. He didn’t like the fear and worry he saw in them now. He was certain you would appreciate this kind of attention from him, confident in his belief that you had a little crush on him. Had he really misread your behavior that much?
Clicking his tongue he started "Damnit, Y/N.." He ran a hand through his hair. "...I- I’m sorry I-I... didn’t want to make you uncomfortable."
He had barely finished his sentence when you interrrupted him. "No! I’m sorry-"
He held his hand up, silencing you. "You have nothing to be sorry for... Forgive me. I just thought..." he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.
Strangely encouraged by his obvious lack of words, the first time you had seen his usually quick-witted self like this, you lifted your chin and said "I just think it would be better for the both of us if we keep this professional. This-’  you gestured between the two of you.  "-would be highly inappropriate."
He scratched his chin and after a few seconds he nodded "...Yeah I- I guess I agree Y/N... I think you’re right... But you still haven’t answered me. Do you accept my apology?" He looked at you with a bashful expression.
"Yes I do." you said with a small smile, instant relief flooding you. He smiled back at you, again with his damned boyish charm. "There’s that pretty smile of yours. Will you please stay for a bit and eat dinner with me? That’s the least I can do as an excuse, sweetheart."
He paused for a bit. He figured that it would be better if he didn’t mention the fact that he couldn’t stand the thought of being alone with his own mind for too long. "...And I won’t try anything funny I promise." he said with his hands held up, trying to lift the mood.
You now couldn’t contain your laughter, whether it was still nervousness, relief or happiness you weren’t really able to tell. He started to laugh as well, his eyes twinkling, and went to pull out a chair for you, waiting for you to sit. "Thank you." you said with a chuckle. Deep down that southern gentleman was really still in him, you thought.
 
When he sat down he opened and closed his mouth a few times, wanting to say something but apparently not knowing how. You also noticed the way his fingers were shaking a little, although you couldn’t figure out why. He wasn’t nervous was he? He quickly looked over your shoulder towards the kitchen counter. He was so unlike himself right now, but when he saw the worried expression on your face, he just smiled reassuringly at you and opened his mouth again.
"...Y-you really think it was a good show today Y/N?"
"Yeah! I stopped counting how many times I got goosebumps, really!"
"I forgot the damn lyrics like three times." he said dryly.
"Elvis, I don't think anyone noticed. I didn't... stop being so harsh on yourself."
"The tabloids notice. Every damn time... Bastards." he ran his hand over his face.
It was then that you noticed the many new bloody scratches on his fingers. This was a regular thing for him as the fans would often try to snatch the rings from his fingers as souvenirs or just wanted to hold onto him. You had seen it multiple times already until Jerry eventually told you about it.
"Elvis... your hand.." you whispered.
He looked at it as if he saw it for the first time.
"Oh it's nothing sweetheart. Don't worry."
"Elvis... please take care of yourself. You really gotta clean these or they'll get infected as well." you gestured at the patches and badages already around some of his other fingers.
"Mhm." he hummed, looking at the ceiling.
You wanted to open your mouth again, but decided against it as you saw that his mood began to sour. In that moment there was a knock on the door, indicating the food was there. You got up and quickly set the table, putting the food on both of your plates as he watched you in silent contemplation. The two of you then opted to eat in relative silence, both deep in thought. The only sound that became more and more prominent was the clinking of his cutlery as his fingers started to tremble even stronger than before. After he saw you staring at this he curtly excused himself and walked over to the kitchen counter. You turned around and saw him fumbling with some kind of pills he just retrieved from some cabinet. Didn't he keep his medicine in the bathroom? He quickly popped some in his mouth and dry swallowed them.
Noticing your confused expression he laughed, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and stated "Don’t worry sweetheart, just some vitamin pills you know? Being locked up in this-" he gestured around, just managing to repress a curse "-deprives you of uh Vitamin D. Says the Doc at least." he shrugged. You narrowed your eyes at him, not sure if he really expected you to believe this but he didn't even give you the chance to respond to this.
He sat down again and promptly asked "So... Y/N. How do you like the job so far? I can't believe I haven't asked you yet."
You looked at him with big eyes, not expecting this sudden change of mood from him. "...Oh uh it’s great really! Um you know I’ve never been out of Memphis my whole life. Coming here… Las Vegas… It was overwhelming at first, but I think I’m getting used to it."
"Small girl in a big town." he smirked. 
"Hey!" you said in mock offence while he held up his hands and looked at you with innocent eyes. "No, but you’re kinda right. Last week-" you briefly laughed at the memory "- I was on the bus and all of the sudden there is this guy next to me, who like snorts a line of cocaine or whatever right off his arm! And then he complains that he lost all of his money in the casinos and he just wouldn’t stop talking to me! When the bus stopped I just… ran out." You made a straight line with your arm to emphasize your story, still laughing. "I swear I’m such a newbie."
"...Would you like to have a car?"
"That would probably solve a lot of problems, wouldn’t it!" you snickered. 
"I’ll arrange it then." he said with a serious expression. You searched his eyes for a joke and waited for the punchline, but you got the feeling he really was dead serious. 
"...Don’t you dare." you said with a face that matched his. "That was a joke. I don’t need a car."
"It would be no problem, sweetheart."
"I would probably just crash in this city with the way they’re driving here! It's nuts." you stated, trying to keep him from buying a car. "Thank you so much for the kind offer Elvis, but I really don’t like the idea. It’s way too much money."
He looked deeply into your eyes with a slightly bewildered look on his face. No one had ever turned  down his offer to buy them a car or other materialistic things. You really were an odd one, rejecting his advances and his gifts. Yet, he was kind of intrigued by this. "Alright sweetheart... don’t want to make you uncomfortable again." he said, raising an eyebrow. 
You smiled. "No, really I’m happy the way it is. More than happy. With the money I make now I can support my parents. It’s not much, but god knows they need it… I’m glad I can do something for them. They always did their best for me."
Elvis felt like he could relate strongly to you. "You know..." he started a bit hesitant. "This is why I started in this business. I mean music has always played a big part in my life, but I wanted to support my parents as well."
"Really? I didn’t know that."
"It’s true, i-it was for them. E-Everything I did at the beginning of my career. You know, when I was this... little bitty guy, shaking my legs and going-" he made a funny face, impersonating his younger self from almost 20 years ago. "...You youngster probably don't remember that." he added with a half smile.
At that you started laughing so hard it made your stomach hurt and you couldn’t stop until you felt tears escaping your eyes. As you wiped your eyes, your laughter slowly subsiding, you saw him looking at you, rather proud of himself. 
"I’m happy to provide this for you. Makes you sleep a lot better at night knowing you can do something for your folks."
"Yes, definitely!"
"I remember when I bought Graceland. I-It was one of the most happiest moments of my life. Knowing they would never have to worry about rent, landlords, or housing itself ever again." he recalled with a fond smile. "Seeing that smile on my mama’s face..the happiness in her eyes... that’s something I’ll always cherish."
"That’s beautiful, Elvis." you managed to get out, visibly touched. Of course you knew that his mother hat died rather early, and according to the media, this loss hit him very hard. But now you saw it with your own eyes. The grief was still written all over his face, although he tried to conceal it. He watched you carefully, opening and closing his mouth again. He wanted to say more, but he made the experience that nobody wanted to hear what he really had to say. 
They wanted to be entertained by him, they wanted him to lift everyone up. Nobody wanted him to be serious or, god forbid, sad. As soon as he started going in this direction, the people left. Yet you looked at him with an encouraging expression, as if you really cared. He continued "When she… died… I felt like something of me died with her. I didn’t want to live in a world where she wasn’t by my side. After all… everything I did... was for her."
"...Oh Elvis... I’m really sorry... I see it in your face, you loved her very much. I’m sure she was more than proud to have a son like you. Remember, she is watching over you right now..." You swear his eyes were glistening for a second, but he quickly ran his hand over his face again and took a deep breath. 
"Thank you Y/N."
"Nothing to thank for."
"N-No really. I-I mean it."
"Alright." you smiled gently. "You’re welcome... I’m always here if you need someone to talk to."
He looked deep into your eyes an unreadable expression on his face. "Wouldn’t this go beyond your duties as my personal assistant?"
"We can make an exception." you said with a wink, suprised at your own confidence.
He started to laugh and you joined him, finally completely at ease with him. The two of you continued to talk on and on into the night. You now saw him with entirely different eyes. You liked this version of Elvis much more than the rockstar image he liked to portray in front of everybody else. Even himself sometimes.
You eventually started to get up and started doing the dishes, while he sat down at the piano and played a tune, softly humming to himself. After that you finished ironing the jumpsuit that sat forgotten and lonely atop the ironing board for the last hours, and checked the time. Surprised about how late it was already you quickly said goodnight to Elvis, wanting to head to your room and get some sleep.
"Alright Y/N. See you tomorrow, sweetheart. Sleep tight!" he said. You looked at him with a warm smile and approached him, still sitting at the piano. "You too." you slowly leaned down and pressed a small kiss to his cheek. He raised his eyebrows at you with a surprised expression, taking in the joyful look on your face. His eyes softened and he carefully lifted his fingers to the spot on his cheek that you had just kissed. With a smug smile he then continued to press them onto his lips, imitating a real kiss.
"Oh, you!" you laughed and lightly smacked his shoulder. "I’m leaving now. I hope the bed bugs bite you!"
You could still hear him laughing even after you closed the door behind you.
................................................................................
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Text
WIP Wednesday- Wedding Planner AU
Edit (6/27/23): This is the WIP for the old (and deleted) version of Something Borrowed. The new version will be posted very soon ☺️ I’m keeping this WIP in particular up until further notice
The full Part 3 is coming soon! Here's a sneak peek of Something Borrowed. Also thank you to @themetaluna for helping me figure out how to format a one-sided phone call lol.
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"Wait, so you really know a lot about martial arts? That is so cool!"
"Yeah, I competed in taekwondo until I was almost sixteen years old, I loved it so much."
Sasha was sitting at a small table across from Anetra, in the small community room of the church Anetra's family had attended before she was born. The church was a few miles outside of Las Vegas, sitting on a few acres of private church property. Sasha flew out to Las Vegas for a couple days to see the wedding venue and find local vendors for the ceremony. It was also a good excuse for Sasha to spend time with Anetra, but that's beside the point.
Sasha and Anetra have been trying wedding cake samples from a local baker that Sasha met at a wedding expo a year ago. She could have sworn that the owner of Poppy's Bakery told her that she plans to close the business soon, but the store was up and running that morning when Sasha picked up the samples. Anetra showed Sasha around the church and introduced her to the leader of the church as well, who would be officiating the wedding. Sasha usually wouldn't spend a whole afternoon of cake sampling and touring a church for a client, but since the wedding was in three short weeks, but they were all in a time crunch.
"So why did you stop competing? You must have been really talented in taekwondo." Sasha felt so invested in learning more about Anetra's life, especially since it was just the two of them that day.
"Well, my mom said that it wasn't really a lady-like activity for me and-" Anetra was cut off by her cell phone ringing, and looked at who the caller was. Sasha noticed that Anetra's eyes slightly fell once she read the contact's name, "Oh, it's my fiancee, excuse me while I take this," Anetra answered the call and got out of her chair to step into the hallway. Sasha nodded and slipped out her own phone, sending a quick text message to Malaysia to ask how the CCC was doing while she was out of town. She tried to not eavesdrop on Anetra's phone call, but since the church was so empty in the middle of the week, it was really hard not to, especially since it caught her attention. Sasha listened to Anetra's voice in the hallway, with pauses in between for her fiance to speak.
"-said that we only needed to do it that once...Yes, I do want to be a good wife for you, but-... Yes, I know that, but I'm with Sasha right now at the church...Our wedding planner, Sasha?... Okay, but what if your wife comes home early?"
Sasha heard a long pause from Anetra, almost thinking that the phone call ended until her voice was heard again, but this time lowered. "It's not going to hurt again this time, right?... Okay, I'll tell my mom I'm babysitting or something. I'll be over later, do you want me to come in through the backyard again? Okay, love you too, bye."
Sasha quickly busied herself with pretend-scrolling through Instagram when Anetra came back in the room. She watched Anetra from above her phone screen as she stood behind the chair she was once sitting in before the phone call. Sasha slipped her phone back into her purse as Anetra began to speak in a slightly nervous tone, "Um, I think I've tried enough of the cakes for today. My fiancee wanted me to go over to his house to help him with, uh, the church fundraiser. With his first wife, obviously." Anetra rambled on, avoiding eye contact and tapping her fingers on the back of the chair.
Sasha stood up from her seat and took a step towards Anetra. "Are you sure? You haven't even picked a favorite flavor." She tilted her head as she pointed out the obvious, but also trying not to scare the bride off so quick.
"Oh, um, I like the lemon cake with the raspberry filling. I think that one would be good for the wedding." Anetra helped closed the lid of the box with the remainder of the samples and quickly cleared off the table of the disposable plates and forks.
Sasha watched her buzz around the room before she stepped over to Anetra by the trash can. "Okay, if you say so. How about we walk together to the parking lot? I can give you a ride in my rental car if you want." Sasha offered and reached out to put a gentle hand on Anetra's forearm. She felt tense under Sasha's touch, as she glanced to where her hand lay.
"Actually, wait. There's somewhere I want to show you first." Anetra moved Sasha's hand from her arm and began to leave the room and into the empty hallway. "It's my favorite part of the church, but I need to make a quick detour first."
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woozapooza · 9 months
Note
Christopher's death was inevitable the second Tony learned about his drug use, Adrianna was the final nail in the coffin (i would argue her death was that final nail not just for Chris but for every character in the series esp Tony and Carm, that was the point none of them could come back from), ever since that it was just a waiting game really for what excuse Tony would use for it, there are several points throughout season 6 that ring the death knell on this relationship/character, the first one that comes to mind is Chrissy's daughter's christening, their faces while Chickentown was playing, they knew then it wouldn't end well, and obviously there's the entirety of Walk Like a Man which you could argue is actually the episode where Tony both grieved Chris and made the unconscious decision to kill him..this is all not mentioning the fact that Tony's paranoia, resentment and bitterness has only escalated by every episode in 6b, he's only recently seriously contemplated killing Paulie,obv it's all up to interpretation but I thought it was the perfect ending for the culmination of this relationship and Christopher's character, the calm intentional ruthlessness of it all, the pathetic nature of it (Chase is the king of anticlimax), Comfortably Numb playing in the background (perfect for Chris), the final unveiling of Tony's rotten soul (or lack thereof more accurately)
Sorry for rambling lol, I just think both this scene and whole episode while certainly difficult are some of most masterful Chase has ever done and wanted to offer a different perspective, the trip to Vegas with the dream sequences, that final scene, its just all so good
All excellent points! I had been thinking about some of this already, but some of it hadn't occurred to me at all. For example it hadn't occurred to me to see the episode where Tony considers killing Paulie (which, while shocking and upsetting, still felt completely organic to me) as foreshadowing him killing Christopher. You're totally right that there is quite a bit of groundwork laid for it. I'm still not 100% sold on that groundwork leading to this result, but like I said in my other post, I suspect that has more to do with me missing and/or forgetting stuff than with the actual show. It also probably has a lot to do with the incorrect expectations I had about how it would all play out. I was looking for hints at what I thought would happen. When I rewatch I'll be looking for hints at what actually happens, so it'll almost certainly make more sense the second time through.
Also, I think in the immediate aftermath of the episode, it was hard for me to disentangle two different kinds of disbelief: the "huh, I don't quite see how Tony to this point" kind and the "oh my god, I know he's dead but I'm in shock and it doesn't feel real" kind. Basically, one kind that's about the lead-up and one that's about the aftermath. The latter kind of disbelief is what makes the episode so brilliant. With previous character deaths, I felt like they were actually dead. With Christopher, it still hasn't sunk in. It's one of the only TV episodes I've ever seen that successfully conveyed the actual feeling in the wake of a sudden death. (The only other episode I can think of that pulled that off is in s4 of Succession. I don't want to spoil it, but if you've seen the show you know what I'm talking about.) Ironically, it's the very surreality of it that makes it feel so real.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts!
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kissporsche · 2 years
Text
this moment was so smart for Vegas
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at this point the audience (and Porsche) expect him to say "would you do it?" because that just sounds like what the second half of that sentence should be. You're fighting with Kinn and have forgiven me, if it was life and death and you had to choose, what would it be?
so this
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takes us (and Porsche) offguard.
it's the perfect set up. he once again catches Porsche when he's vulnerable, sets the scene (he wanted to see his friend/crush because he's worried about rumours), digs into that (the minor family is always blamed for everything), gives evidence (Kinn is having him followed), then drops "If Kinn ordered you to kill me..."
almost every time Vegas has had Porsche in this situation he's pushed it too far and ended up backfiring on him (knowing about the dream bar, kissing him), so naturally we expect him to push too far again: trying to make Porsche choose between him and Kinn.
but he doesn't. "If one day Kinn orders you to kill me, could you not let me suffer?" it's sad, quiet resignation. "there's no point asking you to choose, because I know you'll choose him. so can you show me this small mercy?" and Porsche feels that
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his eyes are darting around all over the place here in that way he does, searching for something in Vegas's face, dropping down to contemplate. this projects like a Vegas that has given up on pursuing Porsche, and is instead confiding in him as a friend. he can sow distrust for Kinn and compassion for himself all at once: the minor family will be blamed whether it's fair or not, Porsche will choose Kinn and Vegas accepts that, he is resigned to this fate and only dares ask his friend for the most pathetic of assurances that in the end he won't needlessly suffer.
it's fantastic. I love it. I love it especially because whatever Porsche is searching for in Vegas's face the audience also doesn't get to see. when Vegas tells Porsche about Tawan the audience can see him smirking as he walks away, or his chilling gaze on Pete when Pete isn't looking at him. in this scene, we just see
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we get no such insight. we are left guessing how much of what Vegas has said is true or not. how much is an act and how much is real insecurities. is it all still manipulation to drive Porsche and Kinn apart? yes! but maybe not entirely. maybe it's also dragging up bits of Vegas that he's working into this character he puts on for Porsche, but they're coming from somewhere true.
we don't know, and neither does Porsche. hell, maybe neither does Vegas.
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spencerspecifics · 3 years
Note
HI HI HI PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE MOREID AT PRIDE AND SOME PINING AND SPENCER THINKS DEREK IS STRAIGHT BUT HE ISN'T AND THEY KIIIITTTTTHHHHH
I absolutely love your energy fuck yes!! I’m so sorry this took forever, ive got school, work and some other personal things happening so I appreciate your patience!
No TW, B u t, a creep hits on Spencer at pride, so if that is upsetting please note that! Thanks :)
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Pride
———————————————————————
Garcia had been pestering Spencer about going to pride for the past week now, and it was slowly driving him insane.
He used almost every excuse he could think of. When he first turned her down, he had simply said, “Sorry, I’m going to be busy that week.” And of course, Garcia being Garcia, she stole his calendar to see what he was busy with (spoiler alert: he had nothing. Except a reminder to go grocery shopping, and email some professors and research scientists back).
So, she persisted, and he came up with a dozen more excuses; “I was considering flying out to see my mom”, “The local museum has a new interactive archeology exhibit for adults, and I want to learn more about ancient structures”, “I have to do a presentation on thermodynamics”.
None of those excuses work, as she sniffed out every lie, “Spencer, you hate flying to Vegas last minute, that archaeology exhibit has been open for months, and your calendar is empty!”
So with her persistence, and legitimate bullying, Spencer found himself finally agreeing. “Fine, but come over to my apartment before we leave so you can help me.” After all, he wasn’t really familiar with pride parades, and what the scene was like there. He was going to be a fish out of water, he already knew that for certain.
~
True to her word, Garcia showed up an hour before the pride parade was set to start, carrying a coffee in each hand- how she possibly knocked on his apartment door, Spencer didn’t know.
“I brought you a pick me up, that way you have no excuse to be in a bad mood!” She spoke in her signature sing song voice as Spencer let her inside, she barreled in like a hurricane. God, Spencer wasn’t ready for this.
“Thanks..” Spencer decided to reply with that lame response, and not with what he was actually thinking. He took the coffee from her wordlessly as she stepped in further, going to sit down on his couch.
“You excited?” Garcia asked as she set her cup down on his cluttered coffee table. Reid just shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t do great with crowds.”
“But you do great with disarming murderers?” “You know that’s different-” Spencer said, doing his best to argue, “Reid it is literally not. Both are anxiety inducing, but one is life or death, and it’s not pride. So you can do this.”
Spencer sighed, resigning himself to not arguing with Garcia. Because she was right, though at times her arguments sounded wild. He just had to get over this anxiety and show up at pride, he could do this, right?
~
Wrong. So, very, wrong. They had left his apartment with thirty minutes to spare, deciding to walk over to where pride was being held- as it was only a few blocks away in a public park.
And as soon as they got there, Spencer wanted out. There were so many people, more than he estimated (and his estimations were usually spot on.), and there was just chaos everywhere. Music, dancing, shouting, singing, drag queens running around happily. Spencer wasn’t sure what to do. He was out of his element.
Garcia seemed to sense that, though, as she dragged Spencer over to some stalls that sold pride flags, pins, and other miscellaneous pride related things.
“C’mon Reid, why don’t you look around and find something you like?” She offered up, something for him to do- something for him to stay busy with. He could do that. Spencer nodded simply, Garcia stayed by his side- looking at pride related wear for herself.
~
Spencer ended up deciding on a small pin that simply said; “love all”, planning to stick it on his messenger bag strap. Garcia bought a pin as well, but hers just had her pronouns on them; “she/her/hers”.
Looking at all the pride apparel was a good distraction for Spencer, he felt a lot more calmer now- though that didn’t stop him from feeling like he stuck out like a sore thumb. He’s just not familiar with this world, and it’s awkward to suddenly be in the middle of it.
Spencer was in the middle of looking at another booth that sold flags, possibly considering buying himself a small one to stick in his pencil cup at work, because Garcia left him to go compliment a drag queen- when a voice broke through.
“Hey, pretty boy!”
That was a voice all too familiar, what on earth was Morgan doing here? Spencer looked up at him as he made his way towards him. “Hey,” Spencer spoke awkwardly. Not sure what to say.
Spencer was gay. He was fine with admitting he was gay, but he hadn’t really told the team. He thought they figured it out on their own. And they probably had, but still, having his coworker see him at a pride event- it was anxiety inducing.
“What’re- what’re you doing here?” Spencer asked, stumbling over his words as he dropped the small flag he was holding back onto the vendors table.
“Oh, well I’m on the local PFLAG committee. I’m just here to hand out flyers and stuff. But I’m glad to see you’re here, I’m guessing Garcia’s here too?” He asked Spencer casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Spencer.
He was on the PFLAG committee? Why? To help queer people, obviously, but that had to mean he was gay or something- Spencer couldn’t stop his mind from coming up with every possible answer to why Derek was on the committee.
Spencer just nodded in response, he moved himself back from the vendors table to get out of the way, so other customers could look at the flags being sold.
“Yeah, she’s- there.” Reid pointed her out, as if on cue she came out of the thick crowd that had started to gather back up, the parade portion of pride had concluded by now, and people were coming over to the vendors section.
“Hey, Babygirl!” Derek called over to her, and Garcia somehow lit up with a smile brighter than the one she was wearing before, “Well, hey!” She responded enthusiastically, walking up swiftly to give Derek a quick embrace, which he happily returned.
“I wasn’t sure how long you were staying for, but I’m glad I caught you!” Garcia started rambling to Derek, about how the drag queen she met was so nice; “Her name was Mysteria Hysteria. Isn’t that genius?”.
~
Spencer just stepped back from them both, not sure what to do, not sure if he fully belonged. Pride was a nice event, it was. But the longer he stood around, the more he felt like he should be leaving. Everyone was laughing and smiling, everyone was just happy. And Spencer couldn’t stop racking his brain. In the beginning, he couldn’t stop thinking because of his anxiety, but now he was searching his brain for a reason why Derek was here and what it meant.
Of course, a stupid large portion of Spencer’s mind went to “maybe Morgan likes men”, and then an even larger and stupider portion of his mind had the absurdity to think; “maybe he’s interested in me”. Which Spencer did not even want to remotely entertain, because if he fell down that rabbit hole, he’d never climb back out.
Because yes, he did like Derek. He liked him a lot, the start for his liking towards the man was innocuous enough- which is why it was a problem for Spencer. He didn’t realized he liked Morgan until it was too late. And now he had been battling these feelings for years. Spencer wasn’t ever going to act on them, he just had to live with them- which he had been doing, which he has been content with. But this new information, about Morgan being here, being part of PFLAG- it was going to make Reid’s mind implode in on itself.
~
Reid decided the best thing was to say; “I’m gonna get some water, I’ll be back.” To which Derek and Garcia both nodded to, and Spencer was off, away from the vendors stand and the only two people he knew at pride.
And while that was a good thing, it was simultaneously not so good. Because now he was alone, overwhelmed, and thinking too much. And now he had a task to do, find himself some water.
~
That task seemed to be more difficult than anticipated, as the prides layout was a confusing maze, spencer had to pass in front of a group of drag queens in order to get to the food trucks that were on site- but he eventually got there.
He walked up to the first food truck he saw, it didn’t matter what they sold, he wasn’t getting it.
“What can I get for you?” The cashier asked him, “Just a water, please.” He ordered, the cashier nodded and pulled a bottle out from a cooler that was nearby within the truck, handing it over to spencer as they told him his total, a dollar twenty five. Spencer paid quickly, stepping back and away from the food truck, as he wasn’t sure where else to go now. He didn’t want to go back towards Derek or Garcia, he honestly wanted to go home.
He just needed a minute, some space and time to breathe and relax. He was stressing himself out. And about what? Nothing of goddamn importance, just a stupid crush he had been living with for a while now.
~
Spencer had been leaning against the back the food truck for not long, only a couple of minutes as he was absorbed in thought as he fiddled with the cap on the water bottle.
He was doing his best to follow the grounding techniques he had learned, something to help him calm down, when suddenly- a stranger emerged out of the crowd.
“Hey there, handsome.” The man said confidently as he strode up to introduce himself Spencer. Spencer looked up to meet his eyes, the man in question was a fine looking guy, chiseled jawline, long shoulder length hair, a bit of facial stubble. He was handsome. “Hello,” Spencer answered hollowly in response. In an ordinary situation, he would try and seem more lively- but he wasn’t in a normal situation, not at all.
The anxiety of attending pride was stress enough on its own, but now knowing the guy he had been drooling over for years was here- and worked as a PFLAG volunteer? It was enough to make him lose his mind.
The man didn’t seem to notice Spencer’s empty response, however, as he answered suavely in response; “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the way. I’m Fabian,” Thankfully, the man- Fabian, didn’t stick his hand out for a handshake, instead casually pushing his hair back a bit.
“I’m Spencer,” Reid replied simply, knowing it was best to ride this odd social interaction out, rather than try and fight it. “That’s a lovely name,” Fabian complimented, “Is this your first time at pride, Spencer?” He asked him casually, taking a step forward, closer to Spencer. He was all too confident for Spencer, he too comfortable with invading Spencer’s space. If Spencer could’ve, he would’ve stepped back.
“Uh, yeah. My friend dragged me along.” Reid explained, twisting the bottle cap back onto his half empty water bottle. Fabian nodded, “Your boyfriend didn’t take you?” Fabian asked him. That was a leading question, Spencer had alarm bells ringing in his head the second he heard it. “No. He- um- he met up with us here.” Spencer replied unconvincingly, Fabian obviously did not believe a word he said.
“Well,” Fabian took another step forward, practically blocking Reid in against the back of the food truck, leaning in farther to whisper in Spencer’s ear; “I don’t see him around. So, why don’t you and I get out of here? Hm?”
Spencer wasn’t sure of what to do. He wanted to kick this guy in the crotch and just book it, but he wasn’t sure if his FBI status would protect him in this scenario. He wasn’t sure what could protect him in this scenario.
“Pretty boy! There you are!” A saving grace broke through, and suddenly Fabian was stepping back, and Morgan was walking up.
Thank god, thank fucking god, that’s all Spencer could manage to think as Derek came to stand beside him. “Hey, babe.” Spencer said, cringing at his voice, at what he just said. But that feeling only lasted for a moment as Fabian was still standing right there, staring them both down now.
Spencer could only throw his wish in the sky and hope Derek caught it coming down, ‘please catch along to why I’m calling you babe’ Reid was trying to say.
And Derek caught it, “Hey, baby, was worried about you. Who’s your friend?” He said in his smooth voice, a voice Spencer couldn’t forget. He especially couldn’t forget now, being called ‘baby’ was something Spencer especially could not forget.
“I’m Fabian, you’re Spencer’s boyfriend?” Fabian asked, as if them both calling each other ‘babe’ counted for nothing. “Yeah, I’m Derek.” Morgan responded simply, sliding his hand around Spencer’s waist as if to prove a point. Fabian just nodded, looking between Spencer and Derek one last time before talking; “Well, it was nice to meet you, I’ve gotta get going. See you.”
And then, he was off, fast walking away from Derek and Reid, escaping the terrible situation he had created. Fabian quickly disappeared into the thick crowd, and by then Spencer had his hand squeezing his water bottle all too tightly- as evident by the terrible crunch sound it made. He was too anxious to let go.
“Hey, are you okay?” Derek asked him softly, pulling his hand away from Spencer’s waist. “Can we find somewhere else- can we go sit down?” Spencer asked him quickly. Reid didn’t want to talk about it right this second, right where it had happened. He wanted to leave, he wanted to leave pride and never come back.
~
Derek didn’t ask a single follow up question as he led Reid away from the food trucks, taking him back towards the vendors stands, and then a bit further back, into the normal-not-so-pride-parade-filled park area. Somewhere less stressful, less scary.
“What did that guy want?” Derek asked Spencer casually as they made their way towards a bench that was sat under a large oak tree. Spencer didn’t speak right away, instead he waited until they were seated to start talking.
“He was trying to flirt, but then he wanted me to leave with him.” Spencer explained as he took a deep breath in, just being away from all the loud sounds and sights was helping him calm down. Derek rubbed Spencer’s back in slow, circular motions as Spencer kept talking.
“He was a classic example of a narcissistic personality, it just made me so uncomfortable- he invaded my space.”
“He was a creep, Reid. Simple as that,” Derek kept rubbing Spencer’s back slowly, Spencer nodded. “I know. Sorry, it shook me up.” Spencer attempted to apologized, and Derek was immediately having none of that.
“Reid, no. Don’t apologize for that, don’t you dare. He was a creep, I’m sorry you got caught up with him. It’s okay if you’re shaken up. We can stay here until you feel up to going back, or we can leave. But I’m not leaving you.”
~
And so they sat for a good amount of time on that park bench, at one point Derek stopped rubbing Spencer’s back, instead just keeping his arm stretched out against the back of the bench and against Spencer’s back. Spencer loved it, but he knew if he thought about it for too long he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking. That was his biggest problem, he couldn’t stop thinking.
He had to know, he decided, he couldn’t just wonder why Derek was on the committee for PFLAG. He wanted to know, he had to.
“Derek?” He spoke up softly, sounds of laughing and shouting and music were still heard in the distance, but they were safe from the sounds under the tree. “Mhm?” Derek hummed in response, looking up at the aforementioned tree that was providing shade for them.
His eyes were tracing the way the branches curved and bent around each other, it was something he did to pass the time. Spencer thought he was extraordinary for it, Derek loved to see where things went; he was curious- after all these years, and all the bad they had seen together, Derek still loved to search and find the beauty.
“Why are you on the PFLAG committee ?” Spencer asked him, it was thankfully an innocuous enough ask to not draw too much of Derek profilings side out to pry apart his question. Derek shrugged, and was quiet for a second before responding, “I know what it’s like to be a scared kid, unsure of his identity. If I can help someone through that, that’s all that matters. Same reason I’m in the BAU, to help people.”
Spencer stayed quiet, Derek’s reason was so sincere and so sweet and kind- and only driving him to think further. Was Derek still unsure of his identity? Was he an ally? Why did he have to make Spencer swoon so hard without even trying?
“So, you’re just an ally?” Spencer approached Derek carefully with that question, not wanting to impose or be rude- but just feign simple curiosity, praying Derek wasn’t using his profiling skills right now to decode Spencer’s fake motive.
Derek didn’t notice, thankfully, as he chuckled lowly in response; “No, pretty boy, I’m bisexual. I don’t really tell the team, but it’s not confidential information. Plus, Garcia found Grindr on my phone. Can’t hide anything from that girl.”
Spencer nodded, mumbling something in response about how Garcia had hacked his email to make sure he was free for pride. And then, the two fell into silence again. But it didn’t last for long, because Derek wanted to know just as much, why was Spencer here?
“What about you, Reid?” Derek asked him cautiously, the way you approach a puppy you find on the side of the road. Calm and slow, trying to get him to trust him bit by bit. “What about me?” Spencer asked, not wanting to answer anything about himself unless Derek was specific.
“Are you an ally?” Morgan asked him, leaving the question open ended. Spencer could say as little or as much as he wanted. This is how you get him to open up, Derek knew that for a fact. “Um.. yeah, I mean- who isn’t? I just- I have to be. I’m.. gay.” Spencer admitted all too awkwardly, not at all in a normal fashion. But nothing about Spencer was in normal fashion.
Derek nodded slowly, not responding as he stared back up, tracing his eyes over the tree branches yet again.
~
A few hours had passed, Spencer and Derek eventually left their peaceful bench under the large oak tree, and instead moved back towards the parking lot.
“Garcia’s got a ride home already- I think she got that drag queen to get her home.” Derek explained as they approached his truck, Spencer nodded as he followed Derek. “Anyways,” Derek continued speaking, “I can give you a ride home. Let’s get going.”
“You don’t have to-“ Spencer started, Derek immediately shut him down. “I want to, c’mon. It’s late, you’re tired. I know you are. Let me take you home.” Spencer just nodded in agreement, he couldn’t argue with Derek, even if he did try. Morgan was a stubborn man.
So, Spencer followed Derek into his truck, and they sat in comfortable silence as they started on their journey back to Spencer’s safe space, his apartment.
~
By the time Derek pulled his truck into the apartments parking lot, Spencer knew something was just the slightest bit wrong. Derek had barely spoken for the entire ride, and usually he loves to say something, to make Spencer smile or laugh, or even just nod and mumble in agreement. But he had done none of that on the way to Spencers.
“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, turning to face Derek as he put the vehicle in park. Derek didn’t meet his eyes, staring at the steering wheel instead as he spoke; “Yeah. Sorry. I’m just thinking.”
“About what?” Spencer pried, absentmindedly unbuckling his seatbelt as he spoke, “About today.” Derek said, not explaining further. “Was today bad?”
Derek shook his head, “No. It started weird, it’s ending pretty good, though. But I’m gonna regret today forever if I don’t do something right now.”
Now, Spencer was confused. Not sure at all what Derek could be talking about, “What do you mean?” He asked, voice quieter than before.
Derek said nothing as he unbuckled his own seatbelt, turning to face Spencer as well, and then he leaned in- closer than they had ever been before. Their noses were almost touching, and Spencer didn’t move. Instead, he watched Derek’s eyes expectantly.
Then, Derek broke through, they were no longer intersecting each other’s personal space- now they were fully destroying each other’s atmospheres. Derek’s lips were on Spencer’s, a chaste, soft, quick kiss- something Spencer would have wanted to go for a lot longer. But then, he pulled away just as fast.
“...That’s what I meant..” He mumbled after a second, looking back towards the steering wheel, looking away from Spencer- and more importantly, not seeing the smile on Spencer’s face.
Spencer couldn’t help it. He knew it was terrible to be smiling right now- he should jump and say something to fix what was happening. But he had to smile, he couldn’t believe that had actually just happened, his brain was still computing and re-circuiting, trying to savor the memory and not forget how Derek’s lips felt against his.
Spencer dragged himself out of his own head quickly, though. He did all he could think of to do in the moment, get Derek back. “Morgan.” Spencer said, tugging on Derek’s sleeve as he did so, forcing him to look back at Spencer and meet his eyes again.
But Spencer didn’t say anything, and he didn’t give Derek the chance to speak, either. Instead, he leant forward, pressing his lips against Derek’s. This is all he had wanted to know for the longest time, and now he had it.
~
Maybe pride wasn’t so bad after all, you just have to be with the right people for it to work out.
———————————————————————
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goldentournesol · 4 years
Text
The Receptionist and the Profiler (Five)
Chapter Five: Royal Blue Napkins
(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)
Series Masterlist
General Masterlist
A/N: i have totally reinvented the timeline of the show, just go with me. also...this chapter will take you on a RIDE.
Going home that night and getting into bed with her fiance was difficult for Y/N. Of course she knew it was technically wrong to have kissed Spencer back, but the problem is that she enjoyed it so much. Too much, probably. And that was alarming. Was it just because she was bored of kissing the same person for the past...what..11 years and just needed a (really) good kiss before she spent the rest of her life kissing the same man? Or was it because she knew that every neuron in her brain was usually firing at top speed at the near mention of Spencer Reid let alone finally know how her brain acted (nearly exploded) while kissing him?
The wedding was less than a month away now and Hotch was gracious enough to allow Y/N extra time out of the office, when things were calm, to meet with her wedding planner to finalize some decisions about the cake, venue, napkins, all that good stuff. In the middle of it, she caught herself wondering whether or not Spencer would like the color of napkin she chose, instead of her actual fiance. That was enough, the thought of Spencer now invaded officially every aspect of her life. She didn’t know what to do so she cornered JJ one day in her office and hurriedly shut the door behind her.
“JJ, I am freaking out about all this wedding stuff. I-I don’t know if I picked the right color for the napkins, oh God, I don’t even like royal blue! I just picked it because Grant likes it but what if it sucks because I don’t actually like it and it doesn’t match with the centerpieces and I-” she rambled but JJ promptly cut her off.
“Hey! Y/N, relax, take a seat. Take a deep breath.” Y/N followed her suggestions that felt more like orders and JJ watched her carefully, she wasn’t a profiler but she spent enough time around them to have picked up on subtle clues. She knew the woman sitting in front of her was an anxious mess and it was not about the napkins, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t know if I like the napkins, JJ.” Y/N’s brows came together and she suddenly felt like crying, she couldn’t explain it, but she felt it.
“Y/N, you and I both know that napkins don’t make or break weddings.” JJ sent her a pointed look and Y/N began to feel small. She picked at her nails.
“Yeah? Well what does?” Y/N asked vaguely.
“What breaks weddings is an absence of love, Y/N.” She said simply and Y/N couldn’t help the frown that crept up on her face, but the blonde said nothing more.
The walk back to her desk was spent trying with extreme difficulty to not split her lip open from biting it too hard. The energy in the entire office was off, although Spencer has a new specific energy to him. He seems lighter somehow, he feels lighter too. Morgan doesn’t know exactly what happened between them but he could sense the shift in Reid’s behavior.
They’ve interacted, though briefly. Spencer pretended there was nothing wrong between them, while Y/N mulled over every interaction. Spencer literally had nothing left to lose, she’d made her choice and he’d accepted that, made peace with it even. He’d even gone as far as putting himself out there on the market. It was time to move on. There was just one aspect of the upcoming month that would make it extremely difficult to do so, so he made a decision.
“Hey, Y/N. Could I talk to you for a second?” Spencer said, leaning with his elbows over her desk as it neared their lunchtime.
“Yeah, of course, just one second... just saving this document. What’s up?” She smiled as she stared up at him, she was sure her heart was about to light on fire in her chest with the mere eye contact.
“Um, so you know how I’ve been meaning to visit my mom back in Vegas for a while now but I haven’t got the chance?” He began, idly playing with one of the candies in the candy bowl that was placed for guests.
“Yeah, of course! Are you planning on going?” She smiled wider, knowing just how much love this man had in his heart for his wonderful mother. Y/N had met Diana when she came into the office a few years back, actually she was the only one who Diana allowed to spend time with while the rest were in the field. Apparently, Spencer had told her more than enough information about Y/N before in his daily letters. Diana liked her years before she even met her.
“Yeah, I’m taking a week off, actually. I’m gonna spend it with her, I’ve missed her a lot.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards slightly as he thought of the week off.
“That’s so awesome Spencer! Will you tell her how much I’ve missed her, oh, I know! I’ll just write her a letter and you can take it with you. When are you going by the way? Do I have time to write it?” She worried slightly, grabbing a pen in preparation and making Spencer laugh lightly at her excitement.
“Yes, yes you’ll have time. I’m leaving on the 16th of August, already booked the ticket.” His voice faltered slightly as he said the date.
“Wait, the 16th? But that means…” He won’t attend the wedding.
“I know, I’m sorry I can’t make it.” He genuinely frowned, knowing just how upset this would make her. Despite their feelings for one another, they were the closest of friends.
“Th-that’s okay! Um, we’ll just send you all the, uh, pictures and stuff.” Her bright smile faltered and Spencer swore he heard a tremble in her voice, the one she made when she was trying to hide how upset she really was.
“Yeah, send me all the pictures, I’m really sorry again, Y/N.” He sent her a look of sympathy, but she understood, he didn’t want to be there.
“No, no it’s okay. I get it, there’s only so many other weeks in the year you could take off, I guess.” she laughed bitterly, very obviously hurt, “Um, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go now. I have something um, for Hotch--Hotch asked for something.” She picked up a random file from her desk and quickly made her way across the bullpen and Spencer’s eyes stopped following her when she entered Hotch’s office. He released a heavy sigh and turned on his heels to leave the building for a lunch that was anywhere but there.
“What can I do for you, Y/N?” Hotch asked, barely looking up from his file at first but then her silence intrigued him to look up, spotting her watching from the window as Spencer left, “Everything alright?” His voice startled her and he immediately took in her glassy eyes and the nervous trembling of her fingers.
“Huh? Oh, um, yes, everything’s fine. Did you...ask for these?” She took a look at what she’d actually picked up and realized they were a bunch of useless forms that the unit chief certainly did not need to waste his time on. It was hard to hide his smirk, having figured out what had happened.
“Do you need to take a seat, Y/N?” He saw right through her, of course he did. She drew in a deep, shaky breath and shook her head.
“Did you know?” She asked in a small voice.
“He ran it by me, yes. I have to approve his time off. If it’s any consolation, I tried to-” He begad, but she interrupted.
“No, please. I’ve heard enough. Thanks Hotch.” She frowned as she made her way out of his office, praying that her tears would--just for once--stay within her waterline.
After that, Y/N barely spoke with Spencer. She found it hard to find the line between being upset with him and understanding why he’s doing what he’s doing. On one hand, she selfishly wanted her best friend to be at her wedding, but on the other, she understood that that was a huge thing to ask from the other man who loved her. He loved her. He loves her. That’s mind boggling to Y/N. Spencer loves her? Even almost 3 weeks after his confession, it’s all she can think about. He’s in love with her.
It was almost time for him to leave for Vegas. Despite her anger with Spencer, she still wrote Diana a letter. Upon finishing and sealing it, she realized she hadn’t even mentioned the wedding once. The (supposedly) single most important event that she would ever attend in her lifetime hadn’t even crossed her mind. She didn’t even give him the letter, she just left it on his desk for him to take. Despite that, Spencer still smiled at the fact that she’d written his mother a letter. His curiosity was killing him, but he’d just ask his mom what she’d written. At the end of the day before he left, he paused at Y/N’s desk, but she refused to look up.
“Bye, Y/N. Um, congratulations in advance.” Spencer spoke, clutching his messenger bag tightly, hoping she’d just look at him once. Hoping he’d get to see her eyes one last time before her soul was tied to another man’s for the rest of eternity.
“Bye, Spencer...have a safe flight.” She replied quietly, busying herself with whatever she was working on on her computer. A beat passed between them as Spencer waited to meet her eyes, but the moment never came. Pre-love confession Spencer would have gone on and on about how he technically had no control over whether or not it would be a safe flight, but now...now he knew his voice was the last thing she’d want to hear. His shoulders involuntarily slumped as he began to walk away from the love of his life. He knew he couldn’t be at that wedding, he just knew it. Hasn’t he been through enough already? Was life that adamant about making him hurt so badly?
But alas, fate was never on their side. Moments before boarding the plane to Vegas and barely three days before her wedding, the team was called in for an emergency case. She had taken a few days off before the wedding to get everything sorted and thankfully, the case was local so she didn’t have to book any hotel rooms or coordinate with the pilots of the jet. 
She had invited Garcia out with her to get a bridal manicure and pedicure on her lunch break, since she was the only one available.
“Pen, are you sure they don’t need you right now? I don’t want to interrupt the case.” Y/N signed into the phone.
“Trust me, Y/N/N, they don’t need me right now, besides this is the least I could do. All your plans for the week-of have been kinda ruined by this case. I wanna help you out the best I can! So I’m picking you up in 10 and we’re getting our nails done.” Y/N knew better than to argue with Garcia so she relented.
Near the end of their appointment, Garcia got a call from Hotch, “He’s what?! Oh no! Is he okay?! He’ll be okay, right?” Garcia half-panicked, sending Y/N right into a panic with her. Garcia paused and Hotch spoke over the phone, “Okay, we’ll be there as soon as we can.” She hung up and took a deep breath.
“Garcia, what happened! Is everyone okay?” Y/N asked hurriedly.
“Uh, no...actually Reid got shot in the field. The unsub shot him in the knee while trying to aim for the victim.” Garcia spoke slowly so as to not alarm her, but it was too late, Y/N was already pulling her hands away from the nail tech, who was almost done.
“WHAT?! Garcia! We have to go now! Is he okay?! Is he in the hospital? What hospital is he at? I’ll drive.” Y/N panicked, her breathing getting more and more shallow by the second.
“Y/N/N, calm down! Calm down! He’s fine, okay? He’s in surgery and you should absolutely not be driving right now. Take a few deep breaths please.” Her emotions were already all over the place because of the damn wedding, and now she had to worry about Spencer getting shot? Oh Lord, it was too much for her to handle.
“Garcia, I think I’m gonna pass out.” Y/N fanned her face and the waterworks began. Garcia quickly asked the nail tech if she could get Y/N some water.
“Oh! Oh, Y/N, baby don’t cry, please. He’ll be okay, he’ll probably be on crutches for a while but he’ll be fine.” Garcia tried to console her but the tears just kept coming. Y/N should have felt embarrassed whilst sobbing in the middle of the nail salon, but she was too overwhelmed to care at the moment. 
“I’m so sorry Garcia, it’s just all too much. I don’t want royal blue napkins, Garcia! I don’t even think I want a damn wedding! And I-I can’t believe Spence just got shot! This all just feels so wrong! You know what, this is all just one big warning sign from the universe, isn’t it?! And--and I don’t even want to marry Grant!” She blurted randomly in her fit of tears and she stopped crying out of realization of what she’d just confessed. Garcia gasped and her friend met her eyes, they stared at each other for a moment before Y/N broke out into tears again at the confession.
It was true.
She didn’t want to marry him.
Garcia apologized profusely to the nail techs and paid quickly before leading an almost hysterical Y/N out of the salon. 
Y/N clung to Penelope and sobbed into her shoulder on the sidewalk, “I don’t want to marry him, Garcia.”
“Y/N, the wedding is tomorrow.” Garcia’s eyes welled up with tears at the sight of her friend being so broken. Y/N shook her head and sniffled loudly, “Are you sure you’re not just super upset about Spencer getting shot?” Garcia continued, wanting Y/N to be absolutely sure of what she’s deciding.
Y/N pulled away from the embrace and stared at her friend, “M-maybe? I don’t know, I-I don’t know, Pen. Oh God, the wedding is tomorrow.” Y/N covered her face with her hands and tried to rub away all the stress and tears.
“Okay, okay, calm down. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go see Spencer and make sure he’s alright, then you can take all the time you need to decide whether you want to call the wedding off or not, alright? How does that sound?” Garcia reasoned with her, slowly trying to remove her hands from her face.
Y/N nodded and took a few deep breaths, wiping away the last of her tears, “Let’s go see Spencer.”
When they’d arrived at the hospital, Spencer wasn’t out of surgery yet. The team was waiting around in the hospital chairs. The hospital felt cold, so unbelievably cold. Maybe it was Y/N literally getting cold feet. The team decided not to ask about the unmistakable redness around her eyes and nose. They just chalked it up to being scared for Spencer, but it was so much more than that. 
She hadn’t even looked at him before he left. She hadn’t seen his eyes or his face so full of its color in so long. When the Dr. announced he was out of surgery and that he should be waking up any minute, the team had decided to let Y/N in first. The sight of him sleeping in the hospital bed made her stomach lurch. She found it hard to contain her tears. It was almost as if her hand had a mind of its own as it reached out to smooth down his wild hair and caress his cheek. She pressed a soft kiss to the side of his head and watched as his eyelids fluttered slightly, but stayed closed. She swallowed heavily and wiped her eyes before walking back out to the team.
“He’s not awake yet, but I, uh...have to go. There’s something I need to take care of. Pen, update me when he wakes, please.” Y/N tried as hard as she could to even out her voice, but it trembled with every other word. Garcia nodded and before anyone could even say a word, she was out of the building. She checked the time and saw that Grant’s shift wasn’t over yet, and she had the house to herself for a bit.
As soon as she made it in, she picked the two biggest suitcases she owned and began to fill them with her things. She’d spent over 7 years in this apartment with Anderson, so many memories and so many laughs were spent here. 
But she couldn’t do it anymore. 
She didn’t want to have to go through a divorce, she couldn’t go through that. She’d rather not marry him at all. Within two hours, she had packed 7 years worth of her life into two huge suitcases. It was sad and she shed more than a few tears mulling over memories. But she saw her future and it wasn’t with Anderson. She placed the suitcases near the doorway and sat at the kitchen table, waiting for him to come home. Surely enough, Grant came through the door at exactly 5:53 pm, just like he did every day.
“Babe? You home? Hey, whose bags are these?” He said, slipping off his shoes and walking into the kitchen, “Is everything okay, Y/N?” He asked, spotting her in the kitchen with a glass of red wine and tears gathering in her eyes.
“What’s going on?” Anderson frowned.
“Um, so...I’ve been thinking. A lot, actually. And I kept asking myself why we waited so long to finally get married. We got engaged in college, Grant. That was ages ago. Most people get married like, right after graduation, but we didn’t do that. We moved here together, I shifted my entire life to fit with yours and yeah I have a great job, but I’m not happy.” She paused to sniffle, “And I think I’m not happy because this isn’t the life I want for me. I think we waited so long because we secretly didn’t really want it to happen, if I’m being honest. But now that it’s happening, I don’t think I can do it. I’m sorry. I just don’t see my future with you.” She frowned as tears clouded her vision. She temporarily let go of her wine glass to slip off her engagement ring and place it in front of him.
“I’m calling off the wedding.” She stated with finality. He looked devastated.
“Y/N, is this a joke?” He frowned, anger settling in.
“No, it’s not a joke, Grant. I’m so sorry. I’ll try to get back whatever I can from all the money we’ve spent on everything, but I’m leaving. Thank you for giving me so many irreplaceable memories. They mean more than you know.” She wiped her tears and got up from her seat.
“Wait, so does this mean you’re quitting the job?” He asked, still in awe of the situation.
“No, I’m staying at the BAU, I love it there, Hotch is a great boss.”
“So that’s it? You’re leaving me?” For the first time that night, his eyes welled up with tears.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m staying with Penelope until I can find a place to rent.” They hugged one last time and she took her things and left. 
Just like that. 
And she’d never felt lighter. She’d never felt more free.
***
Anderson had requested a transfer to a different unit and so they barely saw each other at work. Everything was going really well actually. Over the past two weeks, she allowed herself only one day of wallowing but her priorities were finding a new apartment to live in. They’d already spent so much money on the wedding, so it was difficult to be spending at the moment, but thankfully Garcia’s freezer was full of individually packed meals from the catering company. She lived off those so far and it’d probably stay that way for the next few months or at least until she found her own freezer to fill with individually packed meals.
She hadn’t seen Spencer since that day in the hospital because apartment hunting in DC turned out to be a nightmare. But it’s fine, she’s been getting all her information from Garcia since she’d been performing daily checkups on him since he’d started his medical leave. Apparently, the ever-so-stubborn Spencer decided to continue giving his guest lectures even on his crutches. Ever since Rossi joined the team, he’d been taking Spencer to different universities and they’d often give lectures together. Y/N should’ve been glad that he’d been leaving the house, but it was so hard not to worry about him. He should be coming in today, his two weeks of medical leave are technically over, but he can’t go out into the field yet.
Also, the team was about to get a new member. Y/N was super excited, she was the one who got to show new members around the office and introduce them to everyone. She was also super excited to finally see Spencer. The ding of the elevator sounded and Y/N leapt from her seat upon seeing Spencer waddle in on his crutches through the glass doors, which were being opened for him by a young-looking blonde woman.
“Spencer!” Y/N exclaimed, bounding over to him and making sure to hug him gently as to not topple him over or hurt him.
“Hey!” He smiled, attempting to return the hug without his arms.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re finally back! The place was starting to get a little depressing!” She smiled, a new happiness filling her. She only noticed the woman standing so close to Spencer when she pulled away.
“Thanks, it’s great to be back.” He smiled at her fondly, resting on his crutches. “Oh, Y/N, this is Agent Ashley Seaver. She’s the newest member of the BAU and actually my girlfriend.”
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xwing-baby · 3 years
Text
Pull Over (Frankie Morales x gn!Reader)
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Warnings: Fluff!! description of a dead bird, swearing, not edited
Word Count: 1.7k
Summary: On a cross country road trip with your boyfriend Frankie, you wake to a beautiful sight...
A/n: I’ve pining for Frankie all week, add this gorgeous prompt photo and this is the result
---
You woke up slowly to the sound of Frankie mumbling along to the radio, as he had been when you fell asleep. Blue sky was all you could see out the window as you slumped in your seat, it wasn’t until you sat up properly that you saw the majesty of your surroundings. You gasped at the sigh of the expansive red dirt, sun dancing on the endless road ahead in mirages. The last time your eyes were open you were driving through concrete suburbs, a far cry from the desolate and beautiful desert you drove in now.
“Holy shit, Frankie!” You exclaimed, choking up in emotion at the sight through the windshield. Frankie startled at your sudden proclamation, “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?” Tears streamed down your cheeks, happy tears, shocked and amazed tears. You wiped them quickly from your eyes hoping your fiancé wouldn’t see.
“Are you crying?” Frankie laughed, turning his head for a moment to look at you properly. He didn’t miss the tightness in your voice.
“Shut up,” You sniffed, wiping your eyes, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I didn’t know you’d react like that!” Frankie continued to laugh at you, “And besides you looked cute!”
“That is not an excuse!” You exclaimed, cheeks heating up at his compliment, “Oh Babe, it's so beautiful,” You sighed happily. You pulled your phone from your jeans and took pictures through the truck window. They’d come out blurry and scratched, Frankie knew that. Then he had an idea.
“Do you want to pull over to take a proper photo?” He asked. Your mom had recently given you her old polaroid camera, the one she used when you and your siblings were younger. Having been there as a stop on the road trip already, it was sat in your bag waiting to be used. Here would be the best location to start, he thought. 
“Really? What about your schedule?” Ever the military man, Frankie liked to have a plan and stuck to it religiously. You’d been on the road for two weeks, he had planned every moment down the minute. He’d refused to stop at rest stops, despite if he himself needed to pee, all in the name of the schedule. You were surprised he was allowing the break. 
“Baby I can allow five minutes for a photo I’m not a complete hard ass,” He chuckled, “there's a stop point up ahead, I’ll pull over there and you can take some,”
You cheered and began to root around the stuffed backpack in the footwell to find out the camera. Frankie pulled the truck up ahead a few meters, parked and you jumped out eagerly.
“Fuck me it’s hot,” Outside of the cool AC in the vehicle, the air was dry but scorching hot. You could practically feel the soles of your shoes melting to the tar as you stood on the road. 
“It is a desert,” Frankie said, looking around at the expansive nothingness.
“Really? Would never have guessed!” You stuck your tongue out at him, he copied and you quickly snapped a photo. Frankie pouted and reached for the paper as it printed but you were fast and slipped the photograph in your pocket before he could get it and ruin it. 
Frankie wandered around the truck, you walked a few paces in the opposite direction enjoying stretching your legs. You’d been driving for eight hours, even if you had been asleep for the last two hours, your legs were cramped up. You stretched them out as you walked through the red dirt, watching your sneakers slowly become red stained too. You snapped a photo of Frankie leant against the truck staring off into the distance, a photo cliffs in the distance and then...
“Ah gross there's a skeleton!” You exclaimed. A half rotted carcass lay on the side of the road, bones pale under the beating sun it had been there for a while. It used to be a bird, though its feathers were gone. You stepped closer to it to get a better look.
“Don’t go closer to it!” Frankie said, walking over to you to look at it too.
“What? It’s already dead, it’s cool!” You peered at it, gagging as the smell of rotting flesh hit you. You retreated back to him and wrapped your arms around his waist as you took in the expansive desert surrounding you. 
“I do worry about you sometimes,” He teased you. 
“As you should, baby,” You grinned and kissed him quickly. “Take a picture of me, I’ve got loads of you,”
“Watch for cars,” Frankie warned as you stepped into the middle of the road. 
“Somehow I think I might see them,” You joked, it was clear from miles around you. You stood in the road and posed for the photo, waiting for a moment before calling back, ”Did you take it?”
“If you stop moving!” 
“I’m posing!” You laughed, Frankie raised a brow. “Fine I’ll hold still for you, slow poke,”
“Got one,” He said after another couple seconds. You sighed and jogged back over and took the developing photo from his fingers. You smiled, it was a really nice photo actually. 
“That’s cute! You are a surprisingly good photographer,”
“What can I say, I’m a man of many talents,” He smiled proudly. 
“That you are,” You pressed up on your toes and kissed him on the lips again, “I’m going to take a couple more and then I will be back in the car and we can get to Vegas!” You sang, doing an excited dance at the thought of finally getting to your destination. Frankie cheered too and laughed heartily before giving you ass a little tap and letting you go. 
He watched you wander about in the wilderness ahead, ever the adventurer. Unlike him, you didn’t really know the harshness of the world. You knew the things he had done, the things he’d seen, but only through stories. You weren’t hardened to the world like he was, like he used to be. Pope always teased him that you’d turned him soft but Frankie couldn’t find fault in that if it meant he could have moments like this. Usually a small reminder in his head would tell him to watch the back mirror, to watch for people hidden on the side of the road. Now, he didn’t think about any of that and instead watched you stride fearlessly into the unknown, smiling at the wildness taking photos as if you belonged among the rocks that surrounded you. 
Your smile was his favourite thing in the world. He would rather die than never wake up to see it again. You brought so much joy into his life, even when things were tough to hope that you would stick around long enough to smile again helped him through. Through fights, through low moments for the both of you the smile always sat as the prize for getting through the dark. It was what he dreamt of stuck in the Andes, it was what drove him home when he wanted to run away from everything. You.
The question had been his head the entire trip. He wanted to ask at a good time, a romantic spot meant something to the two of you. One memorable and meaningful. His plan was to take you out to California, where you’d met, and propose on the same beach. But each day with you in the truck was making him impatient. He nearly slipped it out when you had sex in the horrible motel you’d stayed at the night before. He was desperate, couldn’t wait another day to ask you to be his for forever. Now, watching you and your reaction to seeing it waking up from your nap. Maybe he didn’t need California, and past memories. Maybe he could make new ones here in the middle of the desert.
He watched you walk back to the truck, slipping the last polaroid into your back pocket. You opened the door and smiled at him. That smile. The decision was made. He had to ask now.
“What?” You asked, with an awkward laugh. You could tell he wanted to say something. He didn’t so you began to pack up your camera, putting it and the polaroid photos you’d taken away safely.
“What would you say if I asked you to marry me?” He asked, you stopped fiddling with your backpack and looked back up at him. Your heart fluttered in your chest. 
“What?” You were surprised. You had spoken about marriage with him, from the beginning of your relationship you had joked about being grumpy grandparents on a porch swing together. You just didn’t think Frankie was the type to just ask like this. You sat up and looked at your boyfriend. He was staring directly at you, he cleared his throat and readjusted his shirt. 
“Marry me? Tonight. In Vegas,” He said with more confidence, “Our friends are already there, I don’t have ring but we can go get one when we get there and I-,” He stopped, catching himself rambling, getting excited at the idea, “I would like to marry you,” He admitted, with a hopeful smile.
“You’re serious?” You asked, shocked at his words in the best way. Francisco didn’t speak, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. He needed an answer, “Yes of course I’ll marry you! Yes!”
“Thank fuck,” He gasped as you leaned over the console and kissed him hard. You’d kissed him a million times, but this was special, a new spark. 
“I have one condition,” You said as you pulled away. 
“Anything,” He smiled, eyes starry looking at you, so full of love.
“I want an Elvis impersonator to officiate” You tried to remain serious but couldn’t fight the grin on your lips. Frankie laughed and shook his head, “And you need to call my dad,” You said seriously, “I know it takes away from the spontaneity but he’d be-,”
“Already asked him, two weeks ago,” He interrupted you. Your jaw dropped, shocked.
“We were at their- Oh my god that’s why Dad had that stupid grin on his face when we left, isn’t it?” You gasped, hitting his arm playfully.
“Maybe,” He smirked, proud of himself now his plan had fully worked out. You gaped at him, 
“So you really planned to propose next to a decaying bird?” You looked at the skeleton again, curling your lip at it.
“The bird wasn’t in the plan,” He chuckled, turning your attention back to him with his hands on your cheeks. You smiled and leant into his touch, affectionately. 
“I love you Frankie Morales,” you whispered. 
“I love you too sweetheart,” 
---
tagging: @autumnleaves1991-blog​ the wonderful host of this awesome game
@hunters-heathen​ @peterssweetpea​ @beskarbabs​ @this-cat-is-dea​ @wille-zarr​ 
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psychedellic-phase · 4 years
Text
Blind Date
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((gif by moi))
A/N: This is the first smut I’ve ever tried to write sooo let me know how it is!
word count: 3.6 k
tw: smut, swallowing, plain ol’ sex with a plot
masterlist
Spencer spun around lazily in his desk chair, flipping through a case file when Derek walked up to him.
“Pretty boy! Just who I was looking for!”
Spencer looked up from the folder at Derek and groaned internally, “What’s up?”
Derek half sat on the edge of the desk, barely containing his excitement as his leg bounced.
“How would you like to go out tonight on a date?”
Spencer scrunched up his eyebrows, a vague look of confusion painting his face. He was waiting for the punch like of this joke, or prank or whatever it was Morgan was trying to pull.
“A date?”
“Yep, a date.”
“With who?” Spencer dropped the file on his desk, crossing his hands across his chest and looking up at Derek. A date? He hadn’t even talked to a girl since Maeve. How was he supposed to go on a date?
“This nurse Savannah works with, (Y/N), I think you guys would be a great pair.”
So this wasn’t just another prank. Spencer sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hands.
“I don’t know, I haven’t, since—“
Derek cut him off, “I know, but it’s been three years Reid. She’d want you to move on.”
Spencer thought about it for a moment. It had crossed his mind recently that he needed to get back out there if he wanted any chance at a family in the future. He came to terms with Maeve’s loss a while ago, but it still felt like he would be cheating on her if he even looked at another woman.
“Look, kid, I think this one could really be worth it. She’s funny, kind, super smart and outgoing, I think you’d make a good match. I wouldn’t even bring it up to you if I didn’t.” Derek looked sincere, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.
Spencer thought for a moment and nodded, a sudden feeling of confidence coming over him, “Yeah, yeah okay I’ll go.”
What’s the worst that could happen? She could hate him and end up being a crazy killer? The odds were slim.
“Really?” Derek’s eyes were wide.
“Yeah, if she agrees to it why not?”
Derek slapped the desk and then squeezed Spencer’s shoulders, “Savannah and I will pick you up at 7, loverboy.”
“You and Savann–“ Spencer cut himself off, “Wait it’s a double date?”
Derek shrugged, “Yeah, that way if it goes South we can swoop in. But don’t worry. This date is not going downhill, not on my watch.”
Spencer just laughed lightly and tucked his overgrown hair behind his ear. A slight pang of guilt and dread formed in his stomach but he did his best to ignore it. Maybe this would be good for him? He hoped it was.
————
“No,” you said to Savannah over the nurse’s station.
She was trying to set you up, yet again, on another blind date. She was your best friend and you loved her, but she couldn’t let it go. She was constantly trying to matchmake for you, especially since she met Derek. You always told her she got the last decent guy, to which she’d roll her eyes and say, ‘Your guy is out there!’ You didn’t think that was true anymore.
“Y/N! C’mon, it’ll be fun!”
You rolled your eyes, skimming another patient file, “That’s what you said about Dylan. And Brian. And Craig. And they were not fun Sav!”
You started walking down the hallway and she followed you, shoes squeaking, “This one is different though.”
You stopped and made eye contact with her. She looked hopeful, genuine, sincere. Part of you wanted to say yes, but after several disaster dates with the disaster men that she sent your way you were very doubtful.
“You also said Scott was ‘different’ and he ended up still living in his mother’s basement.”
Savannah laughed and shook her head, “Okay, I was wrong about Scott. But I mean it. Spencer’s special!”
“He’s special?” You sounded bored.
“Yes! He works with Derek. The nerdy kid, remember?”
You vaguely remembered her meeting some of his coworkers and nodded, “Yeah he’s like a genius or whatever?”
“Yes him!”
You pretended to think, tapping your chin over zealously and then finally said, “Nope,” popping the ‘p’. You started down the hall way again, her still following you. She always was persistent, and even a little stubborn.
“Y/N, listen to me. Spencer is like 6’1, smart, lanky, kinda awkward but sweet, nerdy, brown shaggy hair; he’s literally your exact type.”
You sighed, she was right. That is your exact type. If you could build-a-man like build-a-bear, Spencer Reid is who you’d make. Savannah did always prefer the more masculine men like Derek, whereas you had a tendency to go for guys who looked like they ran on coffee and adderall and had sensitive eyes.
“Derek and I will be there too, double date style, just in case you guys need a little nudge.”
“But Sav—“
“Nope, no buts. You’re coming. This is a good one, Y/N. I can feel it.”
“But what about work? What if we get called or they do or?”
You were rambling looking for an excuse not to go. You had no good reason to say no, you were just tired of one too many bad dates.
“Work is NOT getting in the way this time! I’ll see you at 7,” she cooed, waving as she slipped into a patient room.
Maybe she was right, maybe he would be special?
————
So that’s how you ended up sitting across from Spencer Reid in the booth of a diner at 7 pm on a Thursday night.
“I swear I reserved the restaurant for tonight!” Derek said, Savannah on his arm as you all walked a few blocks to the diner. They were Barbie and Ken, just hotter. You and Spencer walked side by side, about a foot between you.
When you had arrived at the fancy restaurant at 6:45 the hostess informed you all that Derek had reserved a table for a Thursday three months from now. The backup plan was the 24-hour diner you and Savannah hit many times post shift.
Spencer sat across from you, folding open the massive menu to find something he’d like. He was exactly how you remembered him: wickedly smart and devilishly handsome.
A dangerous combination.
“So Y/N, Spencer’s from Las Vegas,” Savannah started, not to subtly nudging you under the table with her leg.
“Really? That’s nice, I love Vegas,” You said and Spencer nodded slightly in response, “You’ve been?”
You nodded, “Yeah, for a few girls trips.”
He just nodded and let the conversation die. You felt a little defeated. Was this guy that bad at dates? Or did he just not like you?
True to her word, Savannah stepped in again.
“Today Y/N had a patient throw ice chips at her.”
“What’d you do to make them do that?” Derek said, peeking over the massive menu at you.
You laughed, “That’s not even the worst thing that’s happened.”
“What rotation are you on right now?” Spencer asked you and ordered a Shirley temple. What kind of guy orders a Shirley temple? This guy. This impossibly cute guy, who probably didn’t want you.
“Labor and delivery, so I’ve had many things thrown at me, been called many names,” You laughed and he smiled back.
“I can only imagine.”
“Pretty boy here has actually delivered a baby before,” Derek chimed in.
You stifled a laugh, “Really? Is that so?”
Spencer’s cheeks turned a light pink, “Yeah, actually, and it was not what I expected.”
“Well what did you expect?”
He smirked, “I read all the manuals, I didn’t expect rose petals and magic but that much fluid? Where does it all even come from?”
You and Savannah chuckled, “Squeamish Dr. Reid?”
“Surprisingly, birth is harder to see than some of the dead bodies we get.”
“Hey hey, no dead body and grossness talk at dinner. I’m trying to eat here,” Derek said as the food arrived.
Spencer put his hands up in defeat, “No more dead body talk, I promise.”
You did the same, “No more birth talk, promise!”
You all started to eat, and of course you and Spencer reached for the ketchup at the same time, bumping fingers, like in those teen movies.
“I’m sorry, ladies first,” he said. You grabbed the bottle and squeezed ketchup all over your french fries.
Savannah cringed, “She doesn’t put ketchup on the side of her fries to dip like a normal person, she squeezes it all over top like a psychopath.”
You feigned insult and lightly hit her arm, “Hey! Don’t call me a psychopath in front of all the FBI agents!”
“For what it’s worth, Y/N, you definitely aren’t a psychopath,” Spencer said, offering you a shy smile, “I know psychopaths.”
“Thank you Dr. Reid,” you blushed and he took the ketchup from you, squirting it all over his fries just like you did.
“See! I’m not crazy! He did it too!”
“Probably because you’re both psychopaths,” Savannah giggled and the four of you laughed.
You reached over and took a fry from Spencer’s plate and then you both were finally comfortable. You looked at Savannah once and gave her a thumbs up; she was right, this was a good one.
The rest of the night was perfect. You and Spencer joked and laughed and learned about each other, by the end of the night you almost forgot Derek and Savannah were even there. The two of you were in your own little world, and it was amazing. You would’ve stayed out forever if they would’ve let you.
“We can all hitch a cab?” Derek said as you all stood on the corner. It was cold out and Spencer had so kindly given you his suit jacket. It smelled like fancy cologne, how much more attractive could he be?
You looked at Spencer, and he looked at you, and in that moment you made a decision. You were not going home without this man tonight.
“Actually, I live a few blocks that way,” You said, pointing in the opposite direction, the oversized jacket flopping as you did so, “I’m good to walk home.”
“Would you like some company?” Spencer said, his mouth turned up in a crooked smile. He rocked back and forth on his heels.
“I’d love some.”
Derek and Savannah gave each other a knowing look and bid you farewell. Spencer offered his arm and you grabbed it, leading him to your apartment.
As you walked he pointed out sights and told you the history of the landmarks you were passing.
“The Washington Monument was completed in two phases, a private one from 1848 to 1854 and then a public one from 1876 to 1884.”
“Have you ever been up in it?” You asked, stopping to stare up at the huge monument.
“No, have you?”
You nodded, “Yeah, I have.”
“Maybe you can take me up next time,” he stammered out, blushing and squeezing your arm tight.
You smiled, blush creeping up your face as well at the thought of a “next time.”
“Yeah, I’d love to, and then I’ll show you the best bakery in DC. I’m a sucker for an eclair.”
You released your arm from the crook of his elbow and grabbed his hand. He grabbed yours back, looking down at you in his jacket in the moonlight. His eyes were shiny and the brown was dark, almost black. His tongue darted in and out of his mouth and he bit on his lip ever so slightly.
You wanted to kiss him. Scratch that. You needed to kiss him. You stopped again and he turned to face you. Just as you went up on your tippy toes to kiss him, he knelt down to your level and connected your lips.
It was a short, sweet, innocent kiss that made butterflies erupt in your stomach, and other places. When you separated you were both grinning ear to ear.
The rest of the walk was hand in hand, him rubbing his thumb over your knuckles and you both talking. When you arrived at the front door, you both paused.
“Well, this is me,” You said and started to unlock the door. He stayed a few steps down, just smiling at you.
“Do you want my—should I give you my phone number?” He said, his voice laced with doubt.
You smiled and turned, “Actually...”
His face fell, a sad expression covering the smile he had moments ago.
“Oh, it’s okay I understand, I-I thought we were having a good time is all,” he mumbled out, rubbing his arms because he was freezing and you still had on his jacket.
“I was going to say would you like to come in?” You said, feeling just as awkward as he did.
His eyes widened, “Uh- do I want to come in?” Even he knew what that was insinuating.
You suddenly felt embarrassed, like you had misread the entire situation, “I mean, only if you want to?”
He regained his confidence a little, “Yeah. Yeah, I want to.” And he followed you inside.
You slid off his suit jacket and laid it nicely over a chair, “Can I get you a drink?”
He nodded, “Water’s fine.”
As you went to the kitchen to find him a glass of water, he made himself at home on the couch. You could’ve sworn you heard him mumbling to himself, but shrugged it off. You sat next to him and placed the two glasses of water on the coffee table.
You turned to him, “So—“
To your surprise, he immediately kissed you again, this time with less innocence and much longer. You kissed back, nipping slightly at his lower lip. The kiss got more and more intense, your tongue moving between his slightly chapped lips. His hands found a home on your hip bones, using his thumbs to rub small circles there. When you separated you both had to take a few slow breaths.
“Sorry, I don’t usually do this on a first date,” you mumbled, scooting closer to him so your thighs were touching.
He grabbed a stray piece of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, “I don’t usually do this at all.”
His hand went to cup your face and he was kissing you again. This time, you leaned back so he could hover over you, his tie laying over your chest.
His hands were on either side of you, and your fingers were running through his messy brown hair. You tugged slightly at the root, making him moan and open his mouth even more to you.
Slowly you reached down to fumble with his tie, his hand reached up to stop you.
“Patience,” he mumbled into your lips before kissing down your cheek and across your jaw. Each kiss sent jolts through your body, making the peach fuzz on your neck stand up. You put your hands back where they were in his hair, and one of his hands stayed next to you, supporting him, and the other landed on your hip. His lips found a spot just under your ear, and he sucked on it slightly making you moan and shut your eyes.
“The ears are a neglected erogenous zone,” he said against your skin before nipping and biting at the lobe.
“I-I like it,” you breathed out as you reached back for his tie and undid it, tossing it somewhere across from the couch.
“Should we take this somewhere else?”
You nodded, and in one motion he picked you up bridal style. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and giggled as you led him to your bedroom. He laid you on your bed gently.
You scooted up to the pillows and propped yourself up on your elbows, “Lose the shirt, Dr. Reid.”
He raised and eyebrow at you but did what you asked and soon his dress shirt and undershirt were on the floor. He was slim but covered in muscle. You bit your lip at the thought how scratch marks would look down his back.
“It’s rude to stare,” he joked, and another redhot flush graced your cheeks.
You absentmindedly rubbed your legs together in anticipation as he began to undo his belt. You felt like it was only fair that you undressed too, so you took off your dress and laid out in your bra and underwear.
When he returned to hovering over you he smiled, sloppy kisses running from your lips and down your neck. You silently cursed yourself for not wearing nicer undergarments, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind as he palmed your breasts over your beige bra. You moaned into the skin of his shoulder and started to kiss and suck there. Your hands scratched down is back, leaving red lines in their wake. He grabbed your bra straps and pulled them off your shoulders, pulling the bra down to expose you to him.
With a sharp intake of breath, his mouth was around one of your nipples, sucking on it and twisting it between his lips. His free hand came up to pinch the other bud, making you moan loudly again. You arched your back to meet him, and his hand left your chest to force you back down.
You whimpered as you felt him hard and hot against your thigh. Then he switched sides, wanting to give you equal attention. He stayed there until you begged him to stop.
“S-Spencer,” you said between breathy moans, “Just fuck me already.”
He pulled back and blew on your chest lightly, sending shivers down your spine and wetness to your center.
He stopped and looked at you, his eyes warm and full of concern, “Are you sure?”
You writhed underneath him, “Yes, I’m sure. I’m clean. I’m protected. Please. I need you.”
He completely removed your bra and underwear now, leaving you naked beneath him. You pulled his boxers down slightly, so he could spring out. You pumped him a few times and ran the tip across your entrance, making both of you groan. He kissed you kindly, like he had in front of the washington monument, and then slid inside of you.
You groaned at the feeling, clutching the sheets beside you as he let you adjust.
“Okay?” He whispered and you nodded.
“Do something Spencer, please.”
And with that he began thrusting in and out of you slowly, stopping when he bottomed out. You wrapped your thighs around his waist and pulled him in closer to you while your hands tugged at his hair. The sounds falling from both of you were obscene and delicious. It was hard to tell where he started and you ended.
“Fuck,” he groaned, falling from his hands to his elbows over you. Your chests touched and he stuck his thumb in your mouth. You instinctively sucked in it and he took it between your thighs to start stroking figure-eights on your clit. You groaned and arched into him.
“Don’t stop,” You mumbled, kissing whatever skin your mouth could reach.
“I’m close,” he whispered, sweat dripping off his forehead and onto you but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the way he was winding you up with his fingers, getting you closer and closer to the edge. You stared up at him, his hair stuck to his forehead and his eyebrows furrowed. You made eye contact and he caught your lips in a lusty kiss.
“Wait for me,” you ordered, scratching more lines down his back as your orgasm took over. Your vision went black, your whole body tensing as you pulsed around him.
He rode your high with you while chasing his own.
“Where can I?”
“My mouth,” you said, as he pulled out and put his tip between your lips. You used your hands and mouth to finish him before he came.
The two of you flopped on the bed panting, then started laughing. You turned to lay your head on his chest, “I’m glad I went out tonight.”
He pulled you close to him, so your head was just above his pounding heart, “So am I.” And he kissed your forehead.
You snuck out of his arms to get cleaned up and returned to your spot on his chest. There he stroked your back lightly until you both fell asleep.
————
The next morning you were turned away from Spencer, your butts touching slightly making you chuckle. You looked over at him and he was still soundly sleeping, looking even more adorable than he had the night before, if that was even possible.
You looked for your phone and saw two missed calls from Savannah. You called her back.
“Hey,” you whispered so you wouldn’t wake Spencer.
“Sooo what’d you think? What’d you guys do? Did you....”
You rolled your eyes, “It was a great night Savannah.”
She squealed on the other side, “YES! I knew it. You owe me $15!” She called to Derek, who was no doubt listening on the other end. You had to stifle a laugh.
“So there’s a second date in your future? I don’t have to keep setting you up?”
You looked over at Spencer, his hair falling in angelic waves around his face. You admired the lips you had grown to know last night and couldn’t wait to feel them again.
“No more setting me up,” You whispered, “And you were right Sav, this one is special.”
You couldn’t tell but Spencer was awake, his mouth turning up into a smile as he overheard your conversation. When you hung up he stretched as if he has just woken up.
“Hey,” he said, voice raspy and groggy.
“Hey,” you placed a peck on his lips.
“How about breakfast is date number two?”
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kidney9-9 · 4 years
Text
Gift Wars - Peter Parker
hello! i’m back! going to try to start posting more now :) but i had some writer’s block for a while. thank you guys for staying here and giving me love! you are all so sweet and i hope you’re doing good
Anonymous asked:
Could you write something about the reader getting Peter an inappropriate keychain that says; I love you for who you are, but that dick sure is a bonus? And he opens the present in front of may and she asks Peter what did he get?
Thank you for sending this in!! This request made me laugh so much, thank you again :) Masterlist is linked in bio, requests are open, tags in the reblog
Peter Parker x Reader [Fluff/Funny] Warnings: Swearing, sex joke Word Count: 1.3k
When Peter got a gift from you, he was confused. It was a small box, and a note attached to it as well. You put a small winky face on the note, along with writing a sweet “Love ya! Happy Holidays!” on it. He grinned down to it though, happy that you got him a gift. 
You both had an off and on prank war for gifts. It started out with Peter getting you a pair of stinky socks and the Bee movie soundtrack CD for your birthday. He remembers how confused you were as you held the disgusting socks in front of you with a disturbed look on your face. 
Then, on his birthday, you gave him a large package, just filled with already popped bubble wrap and a melted candle with a picture of Bob Duncan. It made Peter laugh so much, he ended up crying. From then on, every gift was a joke. 
Sure, sometimes you would gift him something sweet and so would he, but this was more memorable. 
So, this year for the holidays, Peter was suspicious. It couldn’t be so bad. After the gifts you got him for Halloween, it couldn’t top it off at all. Right? He was seated next to Aunt May when he started to open it.
You weren’t there at the moment, instead you were at the Compound, where Peter was going to meet you later. 
Aunt May shuffled in her seat, looking at her phone instead of paying attention of what Peter was doing. He slowly opened the box, after tearing off the annoying tape on it. 
Oh fuck.
No fucking way, he shook his head in surprise.
“What...” He muttered to himself, as he lifted to large keychain. It was so bizarre, he forgot how to breathe. It was a large oddly shaped dick with hearts along the balls. The tip of the keychain cock had been painted pink as well, and Peter finally busted into silent laughter, shaking. 
He didn’t even read what the other side of the keychain said! He turned it over, overly aware that Aunt May could look over to him. He couldn’t let her see it. It was so bad; Peter wouldn’t even know how to explain everything to her.
He cupped his hand over it as he read the words, “I love you for who you are, but that dick sure is a bonus.” His jaw dropped in shock. His face turned a dark red as he tried to contain his laughter again, as he saw Aunt May glance at him through the corner of his eye.
“What’s wrong?” She asked, unaware of what happened. She looked back at her phone again when it dinged with a message, and Peter’s shoulders relaxed.
“Nothing!” He stammered loudly. You and Aunt May got along great! He couldn’t ruin your relationship by showing what you got for him to Aunt May. That would just cause so much awkwardness between the three of you.
It wasn’t like she didn’t know that you two were having sex, but it still bugged Peter if he was in the room with you and Aunt May during a short steamy scene of a movie you were watching. Just like when Aunt May laughed to when Tony mentioned something about getting you and Peter the same room while on mission. It was just weird, and if Aunt May were to see this, it would be even more strange.
“You sure? What is it?” She hummed out, gazing back to Peter. He shrugged back, shaking his head repeatedly.
When Peter didn’t answer, Aunt May glanced down to his hands, noticing he was holding something. “What is that? Is it the gift that Y/n gave you?” She asked.
“Oh yeah, uh, it is.” Peter responded after a moment of trying to calm down. His nerves were all over the place. The gift was fucking funny, but Aunt May being there? No, it made everything unfunny and he was so close to blanking out and running out of the room.
“That was sweet of her to get you something early. What did she get you?” She stood up as she talked. Peter bit his lip in worry, trying to come up with something, but it was so hard.
Aunt May’s eyes narrowed back to him, now knowing something was up. “What’s going on?” She asked as she crossed her arms. Peter let out a laugh, slipping the keychain into his pocket, trying to keep it hidden.
“Well- uh, it’s just, I’m- Y/n got me a ring to symbolize how long we’ve been together. And to be honest, I really wanted to get her a ring first. And this ring’s the wrong size.” Peter rambled; face still red as the lies poured out.
The closest thing to rings you both got each other, was the bracelet the two of you made together. You usually gave it to Peter when he’d go on missions, and he’d give it back to you when you had to leave for the solo ones as well.
“Excuse me? Y/n proposed to you? I need to see the ring!” Aunt May shrieked out loud, dropping her phone. Peter gurgled out a strange noise of confusion and bizarreness. Fuck, he did not mean that. Propose? Marriage?
Fuck no.
Not now at least.
“No! I don’t want you to see it!” Peter yelped back, clamping down on his jean pocket, trying to protect it. He couldn’t let Aunt May see this horrifying keychain. One being, she would be confused. Two, she would know Peter lied. Three, it’s a fucking cock keychain.
“What, why?” She responded, thoroughly confused. Her excitement was dulled now, and Peter sighed, trying to find another lie. Fuck, he shouldn’t have opened this near her.
“It’s private. We didn’t want people to know about it. There’s a surprise party in a few weeks- uh, I think.” He retorted, and in his surprise, she backed away.
“Oh… that’s cute I guess.” Aunt May spoke up, shrugging. Peter felt himself melt with guilt. How was he supposed to tell her that he wasn’t actually engaged, and that you didn’t propose. He didn’t like lying to her either, it was just a whole mixture of guilty feelings. Last time he lied to her, he ended up telling her the next day.
He stood up, leaning down to pick her phone up. He didn’t mean to look at it, but the messages were open. The brightness of the screen pulled his eyes to each text and he knitted his eyebrows together in odd confusion when he saw your name on the top. He scanned the texts in an instant.
You: What’s going on now? Did he open it?
Aunt May: Yeah he just did. What did you get him? He’s freaking out
You: Lmao a keychain from Vegas
“What? This was- you knew?!” Peter cried out in surprise, passing the phone to Aunt May. She instantly started laughing, bending down as Peter continued to freak out, shaking his head.
“How!” He continued, and she snorted, locking her phone and put it in her pocket. He didn’t realize you would do something like that, and he had to admit that was funny. But it was also really embarrassing. He didn’t want Aunt May to know what the keychain was.
“So, you know what it is?” He finally asked, groaning in awkwardness.
“No clue. But what is it?” Aunt May replied, humming in thought. She obviously knew it was a dumb gift, but Peter still didn’t want to show her.
“Nothing!” He shouted, and finally ran to his room to get away from that embarrassing encounter. He shut his door with a sigh as he tugged his phone out of his pocket. The fact you did that made him want to cringe so bad, but he was happy Aunt May never found out what it was. And it was funny, he couldn’t help but admit it.
But now, he had some planning to do to get you back, with the dumbest gift ever.
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moonbearmeliox · 4 years
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X-Men Series Film Review
Welcome back to “Bren rambles about a movie/tv series.” So I just spent the past three days watching the main X-Men movies and while watching I wrote down my thoughts and what came to mind when watching the movies. Spoiler Warning(duh) for the X-Men movies. Also trigger warning because I do talk about homophobia and conversion camps.
X-Men
As the woman is talking about how mutants can be scared to revel themselve because they could be met with hostility and violence, I find this as a parellel to gay marriage and how LGBTQ+ are scared to come out because they won’t be accepted. Mutants are scared to say they’re mutants of fear of being put to death; LGBTQ+ people are scared to come out in fear of being met with violence or judgement(some places you can be put to death for being gay.
“We should decide if parents want their kids to be in school with mutants.” Sounds the same as “Do you want your child to go to the same school as a gay person? Do you want to be in the bathroom with a girl who has a dick?(in the context of conservatives who don’t want transgender people to use the bathrooms they identify with because “their genitals don’t match)”
Speaking of gay: Eric and Charles
Wolverine got anger issues
Wolverine adopting a young girl with mutant powers, how many times is this going to happen? At least twice.
Rouge really got the shortest end of the stick with the mutant gene.
Give Rouge a male love interest that will inevitably die by her hand, that’s what I’m assuming.
Jean Gray is going to be Wolverine’s love interest, calling it now
Mystique’s costume always bugs me because she’s essentially naked. Like, the directors were like “She must wear no clothes.” “That’s not practical-” “Men will eat it up. The sex appeal, yes. Because women can never have practical costume design.”
Scott looks like he’s played by the main dude in the Sonic Movie(I was right!)
Can Magneto bend the iron in people’s bodies?
“You never use your power against another mutant.” How long is that going to last?
Dad Logan is the best Logan.
The Train Splitting scene shows how powerful Magneto is but didn’t Charles tell Wolverine that Magneto can control metal. Wouldn’t Wolverine have the knowledge, “Hey using my METAL claws against a METAL bender might not be a good idea.”
Kinda figured he would want Rouge, a mutant who can literally kill someone with touch is definitely something the big bad would want.
Magento could just metal bend Charles’ wheelchair.
So Magento’s plan is to turn everyone into mutants, right?
Charles explained it more and it sounds like Terragensis from Agents of Shield with the crystals. Some come out of it with powers, others will crumble to dust.
What powers the cortex that makes it so Charles goes into a coma? Like how does the liquid get into his brain for that to happen?
Yes Jean, it is a perfect idea to put the helmet that put Charles into a coma on your head. Nothing will go wrong.
Mystique really only has like five lines in this whole movie. She really is just supposed to be eye candy.
Of course classic shapeshifter double, who’s who scene. Probably going to be resolved with Jean Gray knowing which one is the real Logan.
The fight scene isn’t that well shot but it is 2000 so
I don’t remember there being a big museum when I visited the Statue of Liberty
I doubt Mystique will stay dead.
Again they thought it would be a good idea to send Wolverine, the man with METAL CLAWS to help fight a METAL BENDER.
Nice of Magneto to put Cyclops and Jean right next to each other face to face.(Director: They’re a couple they must face each other so one can kill the other)
Yep, knew Mystique couldn’t stay dead
Why did they try and have Jean and Logan have a weird semi romance set up when Jean is dating Scott
They gave Charles a plastic wheel chair for when he visited Magneto. Ha, that’s funny.
Plastic isn’t that durable, it would be easy to break Magneto out
X2
Nightcrawler!
The fights scenes have improved, but they’re using a lot of wire rigging
Alan Cummings played NightCrawler. Knew he looked familiar.
Let’s have Wolverine follow a wolf even though wolves are wolverine's natural predators.
Watch the president be a mutant
Dad!Logan
Still painting it that Logan and Jean could possibly end up together. No thanks.
I see they didn’t change Mystique’s costume design. Is she going to say more than five lines in this movie?
Government wants to pass an act to detain and control all mutants, goes and raids a school filled with mutants, and then is SURPRISED when the mutants retaliate. “Oh we don’t want to start a war” THEN LEAVE THEM ALONE. Of course they’re not going to leave them alone because what isn’t normal scares them and must be dealt with no matter what.
Getting even more parallels between mutants and LGBTQ+. Striker wanted his son cured of the mutant gene but was ultimately upset when Charles’s school couldn’t do that. It’s similar to how when people come out to their parents, their parents send them to conversion camps to “Cure” them because they think being gay is an illness. 
Bobby don’t get horny, it will only end badly
I asked the question if Magento could bend the iron in people’s blood in the last movie. The answer is yes. Yes he can.
Bobby’s parents “Have you tried not being a mutant.” Gives more LGBTQ parreles “Have you tried being straight?” “Have you tried being your assigned gender?”
An officer shooting a white guy? Unrealistic.
Welp Bad guys and good guys team up to save Charles.
Jean and Logan kissed. Here’s my shocked face. #TeamScott.
But seriously, I hate how the main dude must have romantic interactions with the main girl. It’s never the main dude has romantic interactions with a minor(minior in the sense of not that important to the plot) girl, Storm is right there with no love interest. Pair Logan up with her, that way we aren’t running an already established romance, But nooooo, Hollywood loves to have love triangles.
Mystique changing into Jean, making out with Logan, and then changing into a bunch of different girls makes me uncomfortable.
But again, “All women who have the potential to be a love interest must kiss the main dude” now we wait for Storm to give Logan a smooch.
Female Wolverine!
Magneto had his own secret agenda? Who would have thought?
Bobby’s going to come in clutch with freezing the water
Why does Jean need to go and stop the water? Bobby has control over ice, he can stop it.
Man I really feel bad for Scott. 
But I’m miffed because it’s the classic female character dies to further male character’s development.
Oh look Jean’s alive, not surprise. Is she going to be the villain of X-men 3?
I couldn’t watch X-Men 3 because it wasn’t available on any sites but reading the wiki synopsis I was right on her being a bad guy(MY BOY SCOTT GOT MURDERED!). Upset Charles died but he was old and the mentor figure so he kinda had it coming.  On to the prequels. 
X-Men-First Class
So Charles met Mystique first. And her name is Raven. Wonder what caused their split. I just hope they weren’t romantically involved
Poor Erik, really giving him a tragic backstory
James Macavoy!
Raven and Charles call each other siblings! Oh this is going to hurt more.
Excuse me while I get distracted by Vegas women.
But also did the CIA woman plan to sneak in as a showgirl. Because who would wear lingerie under work clothes unless she planned for this(or planned to get freaky later). I mean it’s Vegas so maybe she was prepared.
Emma Frost is a telepath and can crystalize her body. Not what I was expecting with the last name Frost but I also find it odd that her two mutations don’t intersect with each other. Telepathy and crystallization have nothing in common, so the only explanation is that she got both genes from her parents. It would have to be rare since males are usually the ones to pass the gene to their kids.
Azazel. I’m guessing is Nightcrawler's dad. He and Mystique will get romantically involved and have Nightcrawler. He’ll get the blue skin from his mom but the mutant gene from his dad.
Ok I’m miffed about the costume design again. It’s London and it’s raining and they decided to have Raven and the CIA woman wear SHORTS! They’ll be freezing their asses off all so you can have some leg candy? What’s so appealing about knees? Nothing. It’s always been women’s costume designs that have to be appealing, not practical.
If Charles can’t be involved with Mystique, then he’ll have to get involved with Moira?(I don’t know if I heard her name correctly, the CIA lady). Because all male characters MUST have a romantic love interest(sarcasm)
That one CIA dude, he’s a real one.
So the dude that killed Erik’s mother, is also a mutant. 
How is Erik trending water and controlling metal? Nevermind, he’s drowning
Charles saves Erik! And thus the ship is born. “Erik, you’re not alone.”
Hank Mcoy. They zoomed in on Mystique when he was looking at her. Reading the camera angles...oh please don’t have another romantic set up.
They did the Spiderman/MJ framing with Hank upside down and Mystique very close to his face. Yep, they’re setting up a romance between them that will ultimately go nowhere because again, Mystique will do the do with Azael to get Nightcrawler.
Hank and Mystique have only known each other for like five minutes and they’re already having a picnic on top of a rocket. I hate how romance moves so fast in movies.
And Mystique was going to kiss him. Just...no
Erik, right after he walks in on Hank and Mystique’s picnic: If I looked like you, I wouldn’t change a thing. 
Are they really trying to set up a love triangle between Hank, Mystique and Erik? I know Magneto and Mystique's relationship in the first three movies is close, but that sentence just makes it sound like Erik is jealous.
“Are you sure we can’t shave your head.” “Don’t touch my hair”. I mean he’s going to lose it eventually.
I love the mutant finding montage. Especially the Wolverine cameo
My mom just informed me that the bad bad is played by Kevin Bacon so that’s what I will refer to him as since I can’t remember his name.
These recruited mutants aren’t going to last long. They’ve got the youthful team up energy, they will be the “First Class” hence the name, but we probably won’t see them again after this movie.
Charles, Erik and Moira being disappointed parents. Starting to get a family vibe that we didnt get from the last three movies.
Charles as Erik storms in: I’m sorry, I can’t leave him. They’re gay your honor.
I just realized that Frost is the second right hand woman to have no real costume. She’s just like Mystique where “she must wear the least amount of clothing possible or have no clothing at all when using her powers” I just wish it would stop.
Let’s take the right hand woman who is a telepath with us. What could go wrong?
What is Angel’s motive to go with Bacon, like I don’t get it. And the adaption dude? It’s just a turn on the dime. Nevermind it was a fakeout and one of them died. Knew they weren’t going to last long.
I feel like Chalres trying to shoot Erik as training is foreshadowing.
Training montage
SO Bacon loses Frost and now has Angle as his right hand woman? I honestly didn’t think that necessary.
Welp there goes Mystique and Hank’s relationship. He only liked her when she was in disguise.
Conflicting differences! Finally get to see Erik and Charle’’s view on humans.
Knew it! As soon as Hank dumps Mystique she goes straight to Erik. Because “She MUST be romantically involved.” Why? Why? Can’t she just...not. She doesn’t need a man.
Erik: I want to go to bed. Maybe in a few years. Ha funny.
I get Mystique going to Erik because he accepts her, unlike Hank but again, she doesn’t need to have a love interest.
Suits! But again, miffed about Mystique’s suit not being fully set up. SHE DOESN'T”T NEED TO HAVE HER CLEAVAGE TEASING IF SHE”S GOING TO BE FIGHTING!
Could Charles just stop controlling Bacon, so he can move and Erik wouldn’t have a chance to kill him.
But good cuts between Bacon and Charles.
The boyfriends are fighting!
Oh that’s how he gets parralized. I forgot about that.
Erik really does care for Charles even tho they have different viewpoints
Mystique going with Erik and having Azeal with him is setting up the perfect opportunity for Nightcrawler.
“Gentleman, this is why the CIA is no place for a woman” *Big gigantic crash* That’s what you get for being sexist.
Days of Future Past
So these machines can absorb mutant powers and transfer them to other machines. A new threat.
Oh Charles isn’t dead from being disintegrated by Dark Phoenix
Logan!
Charles confirmed Mystique was like a sister to him.
So Mystique’s dna was the cause of the Sentitnals. I understand that stopping Mystique from shooting the doctor will change that, but also if that doesn’t work they would have to kill Mystique.(which won’t happen because she’s in the next movie.
Charles tells Wolverine that he didn’t have his powers in 1973, but First Class takes place in 1962 where he definitely had his powers. So what happened to Charles that made him lose his powers?
For once the government isn’t targeting mutants
Well one dude from First Class is in this movie, but sadly I can’t remember his name. X-beam guy.
Why is Charles drunk and not parallelized?
Hank still cares for Raven. Guess the love triangle is still a thing
Oh he’s doing the equivalent of mutant heroine to get rid of his powers and walk.
Erik in gay baby jail.
Erik killed JFK?! Why?!
I feel like if Mystique is searching around the office of someone, she should still be disguised as someone so she doesn’t get caught. I get her dropping the disguise to show the audience it’s her and it builds suspense but she would draw less suspicion.
PETER! MY boy!
I love that he talks fast and that’s kinda like a teenager. I don’t know how old he actually is.
“My mom knew a guy who could do that.” They’re not even trying to be subtle here.
Slow mo Peter speed scene! Yes!
Is that all we get of Peter in this movie? I hope not.
JFK WAS A MUTANT?
So Magneto can lift a plane, a submarine, and now a baseball stadium. Why does he need a baseball stadium?
They showed a clip of Peter watching the broadcast and he’s holding a little girl. I’d like to think that’s Wanda.
Everyone’s alive. Yay!
I’ll excuse Jean being alive because time changes and all that. SCOTT! SCOTT”S ALIVE! YES!
Apocalypse
Hey Oscar Issac
Young Scott!
Young Nightcrawler!
Erik went from wanting to kill humans to being a farmer and having a wife and daughter. Still going to end up on the bad side.
Young Jean Gray! Scott and her start out rocky but we know they’re going to end up together.
Knew the wife and kid wasn’t going to last long. Always got to do something that makes Magneto the bad guy
Two birds...one arrow
For this one, I can understand Magneto’s anger
Young Storm was originally on the bad guy’s side.
Scott sees things through literal rose tinted glasses.
I love Kurt.
Scott use to be a rule breaker
At least Storm has a practical costume. 
Also if Erik really wanted to lay low, why did he choose to work at a metal factory.
Pyslocke’s costume isn’t practical. She’s got a boob and butt window. Girl there are so many places you could get stabbed.
PETER!
Charles and Erik always greet each other with old friend
So birdman gets metal armor and the girls get nothing.
Peter slow-mo! This will always be my favorite speedster scene
So the only people that can save the X-Men are Cyclops, Jean Gray, and NightCrawler. Three teenagers with no plan. They got this.
Go Charles! Fighting no matter what.
Logan!
Thankfully most of these characters can’t die.
Pyslocke  and Angel can die but the others all have plot armour
Peter didn’t tell Erik he’s his son. Why?
No not the hair! Apocalypse took Charle’s hair.
Go Peter!
No Peter!
So Charles still has the hair when he’s in Apocalypse's head. Part of me knows it won’t grow back but I hope it does.
Mind fight!
So Erik is on the good guys side until the next movie.
Mystique finally has a good costume design
Dark Phoenix
The dude they got to play Bush doesn't look like Bush
SPACE!
This mission is going to go wrong and the X-men are going to get planned. Thus leading the world going against mutants again.
They gave Scott is own eye cannon, nice
Yea absorbing a solar flare will definitely cause your powers to go way hire
Well the mission didn’t go wrong, the way i thought it would. That’s good.
Charles motives have changed
So, men, supposed gods, robots, and now we’re dealing with aliens
Charles kinda being shown as a bad guy is weird. So used to seeing him have good motives.
The aliens want Jean to use her power to take over earth. Not surprising.
Dad now is not the time to poke the super powered bear
Police always show up at the wrong time
I know Mystique can’t die. This is the prequels
But again, Stop killing female characters to further male character’s development.
Oh there’s Erik. 50 minutes in and i thought we weren’t going to see him
Jean’s got a heat signature with that solar flare so it would be easy to track her.
At least the military decided to fallback instead of shooting
And there goes humans liking mutants. This is why we can’t have nice things.
So Mystique’s death is what sets Erik on being the villain again? It’s the same as a woman losing her husband and becoming a villain for revenge. Honestly I’m tired of love revenge plots.
Guys stop fighting! You’re  friends!
Oh shit! Jean is making Charles walk. And not in the good way.
OH SHIT KURT IS KILLING PEOPLE NOW!
Dark Phoenix. A movie about family.
Legend of the Phoenix. She’ll rise from the ashes.
Bummed Peter wasn’t in this movie more
All in all, Apcolypse is my favorite X-Men movie.
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hockeylvr59 · 4 years
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Life Changes Part 10 || Paul Bissonnette
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Author's Note: So this one was tough for me because Paul’s head is a tough nut to crack so go easy on me. This is from his POV because I felt like we needed some insight as to where he stood in all of this because so far we’ve only see Leigh’s thoughts. Let me know what you think. We’re covering quite a bit of time fairly quickly now. In fact, there’s probably only 1 more chapter before the event everyone has been waiting for happens *hint hint*. Also, I updated the playlist for this story so feel free to go take a listen and let me know what you think and feel free to send me any songs that make you think of Leigh and Paul because I’d love to hear them. 
Requested: [ ] yes [x] no       Warnings: swearing      Word Count: 2,389
_________
Paul’s POV
“Only the wisest and stupidest of men never change.” 
Something had been different with Leigh since the awards but I couldn’t put my finger on what had changed or why. We still talked almost every day but where before she would be an open book, now it seemed like a glass wall was between us. Knowing that she would reach out if she needed me, I came to the conclusion that it was something to do with the pregnancy and tried not to dwell on it. 
Hopefully, this trip would make not dwelling a little easier. Thanks to some networking at the Awards and a little help from CCM, we’d finally landed our white whale for the podcast. And not only had we secured Crosby, but we’d also gotten MacKinnon as well. Having arrived in Nova Scotia yesterday, Whit and I were slotted to face off against the local duo in a round of golf, dinner on the line, before sitting down to record the interviews. 
It was a gorgeous June day on the course, and I was absolutely buzzing. This was potentially the best game of golf I’ve ever played in my life. But before we had even finished the front half of the course I was already being accused of being a sandbagger...fucking ridiculous. Nate was getting all sorts of worked up while Sid just laughed saying they’d have to wait and see what the back half brought. 
Needless to say, the second half didn’t go as well as the first...the damn yips taking over. Though we’d had the lead and secured dinner, for some reason Whit felt like giving the losers a second chance to redeem themselves so it was determined that we were only up 1 hole with two remaining. Whit came up just short for birdie leaving us square to start the 18th hole. 
Just as we reached the final tee, my phone rang, Leigh’s picture filling my screen. If it had been anyone else I would have ignored it but there was no way I could ignore her so I grabbed my phone and stepped slightly away as I answered. 
“What’s up?” I questioned. “We’re on the 18th hole with Sid and Nate.” Before she even responded I could hear the hitch in her breath and my heart raced with concern for why she would be crying, though lately, it didn’t take much to make her cry...pregnancy hormones. 
“I forgot.” She admitted, her watery voice cracking. 
“It’s fine. What’s up?” I repeated my question, my stomach twisting as I waited for her answer. 
“It’s a girl.” She whispered. Immediately my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest.
“What?” The word slipped out while my brain was rushing to process. 
“Dustbunny...she’s a girl.” I had totally forgotten that Leigh had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for today. Without even realizing it, tears had pooled in my eyes and I let out a shaky laugh as I tried to blink them away. Deep down I knew that she was hoping for a girl and so I knew just how much this news meant to her. 
“That’s incredible.” I finally managed my throat tight. “Congratulations.” Though the concept of her really having a baby had become more concrete for me in Vegas seeing her bump, now it really did feel real. In just a few months there would be this little human who looked like her mom hanging around and the thought of that was almost too much. 
With Whit calling my name from the course, I signaled for him to give me just a minute but it was clear that Leigh heard it and she murmured that I should get back to the game. But before she hung up she made one final statement. 
“You can tell the guys if you want. And uh...let them know I’ll make a public announcement in the next couple days but to keep it to themselves until then please.” 
“Course.” I murmured, my brain still operating mostly on autopilot as it worked over the news she’d just dropped on me. “I uh...I’ll talk to you and dustbunny later.” 
“Yeah.” She agreed. “Now go have fun.” She added just before the line went dead. Frantically I tried to pull myself together, wiping at my eyes and pocketing my phone.
It was my turn up at the tee and as I tried to focus, laughter came at me from all directions. Whether it was the laughter or the thought of Leigh and her daughter racing through my mind, as I swung at the ball I sliced it way left and the laughter took full force. 
“Fuck off okay,” I mumbled, moving to sit on a bench, my nails scraping over my scalp. 
“What the fuck was that?” Whit demanded. “You take one phone call and make the worst shot of the day?” There was nothing but silence as we made our way down to the green and as we waited for Sid to putt Whit looked over at me. “Everything okay?” He asked, voice calmer. “I’m assuming that was Leigh.” 
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Everything’s good.” Whit looked at me skeptically before taking his turn and after sinking his putt for the win he paused. 
“Okay, Biz...spill.” He stated, leaning against his club. “You’ve been all hyped up all day and now you’re quiet. What was that call about?” 
“She’s having a girl.” I breathed, tossing my club back in the bag before reaching for a bottle of water to try and calm my still racing heart down. 
“Who’s having a girl?” Nate inquired, clearly confused by the statement. 
“Leigh. Our business manager.” Whit explained. “That’s awesome, I’m sure she’s over the moon.” 
“Wait...she’s pregnant?” Sid asked, having obviously paid no mind to her growing bump when they met just a week or so ago. 
“Yeah. It’s complicated.” I expressed. “And she is over the moon. She was crying over the phone.” I added, once again scratching my head. It was left unspoken, but not unnoticed by Whit that I had been crying over the news too and we made our way over to a little cafe to record both interviews, my mind gradually refocusing as I focused back in on hockey and the world surrounding it. 
~~~
It wasn’t until we were a few drinks into a delicious dinner courtesy of Sid and Nate that Leigh was brought up as conversation again. 
It had happened casually, Sid inquiring as to what we had upcoming for the podcast. Whit went into a ramble on the secret project we’d been working on for months, a Pink Whitney vodka, and how we had a launch party for that planned for Labor Day weekend. Then RA brought up how each of us was working to pick up some of the management job duties so that Leigh could have a proper maternity leave when the time arose. That triggered Nate inquiring about the whole baby thing and I quickly had to vaguely explain that Leigh wasn’t with the baby’s father and that we were close friends because she’d been with me in Arizona when she found out. 
We’d just downed another round of drinks when Whit threw the first real punch. 
“So Biz….when are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about...we’re just friends.” I lied, doing everything I could to keep my facial expressions neutral. 
“That’s bullshit and everyone else can see it besides the two of you.” He tossed back. “You look at her like she’s the goddamn stanley cup. I haven’t seen you even look at another woman in months. If you aren’t talking about work you’re talking about Leigh and the baby so stop playing. You’re in love with her.” 
If it weren’t for the drinks I’d already consumed I probably wouldn’t have admitted to anything. But with the drinks, I felt my palms start to sweat and my filter let a few too many thoughts slip through. 
“Of course I love her,” I mumbled. “She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s absolutely stunning, and she has one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen. She’s handled everything thrown at her with far more grace than I ever could have and she’s going to be an absolutely incredible mom.” Downing the rest of my last drink I sighed heavily. “But we’re just friends and it’s going to stay that way.” 
“So you love her and you obviously love her baby...what’s the fucking problem?” Whit pushed. 
“The problem is that she deserves more. Better.” At those words, every head at the table turned to look at me. 
“What the fuck does that mean?” RA questioned, his tone brusque. 
“It means that she could do so much better than me. I don’t exactly have the best reputation with women or in general. She deserves someone that can match her in intelligence and who won’t fucking stain her name with his own. She deserves someone who isn’t mentally fucked up...who doesn’t experience episodes where he can barely take care of himself let alone her and the baby. She deserves stability.” 
After spilling out all of the reasons why friends was all we were ever going to be, I expected some resistance, what I didn’t expect was Whit to bust out laughing at me. Glaring at him I clenched my jaw and he just shook his head. 
“You’re a fucking moron Paul. You’re making excuses as to why you aren’t good enough for her and she’s making excuses as to why she’s not good enough for you when in reality you’re perfect for each other.” 
“What are you talking about?” I pressed, swirling the ice in my glass aimlessly. 
“I’m talking about the fact that she told Brie she didn’t think that you’d ever even have sex with her because she’s not your type. She minimizes anything you feel for her proclaiming that it’s just the baby you’re attached to. She thinks that all you’d ever want to be is Uncle Paul so how could you possibly want to pursue more when a relationship with her would come with the baggage of a baby that’s not yours. She’s just as insecure as you are….but I guarantee you that the way you’re shaking your head about the things she’s worried about would be the same way she’d react to the things you’re worried about.” 
It baffled me to think that Leigh thought I wouldn’t want her. At the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder if that expression meant that she actually did want me. For a while, conversation traveled back to less serious topics but before we headed back to the hotel for the night Whit pulled me aside one more time. 
“Look I get you have your own concerns and that you’re worried about unnecessarily dumping something else onto her plate but don’t let either of those fears keep you from something that could be great. Now may not be the right time, but I’ve seen the two of you together and you both bring out the best parts of each other...so just be patient and things will work out like they’re supposed to.” 
It wasn’t until I was settled into bed that I was able to watch the ultrasound video Leigh had sent me. Between that and dinner’s conversation, the moment that I closed my eyes, too many thoughts, thoughts of Leigh and the baby she was carrying, filled my mind making sleep impossible. Was it really possible that she felt the same way I did? Did I want to play a role more than Uncle in this baby’s life? Was she ready to move on after having her heart crushed not once, not twice, but three times? 
~~~
Just like she had said, Leigh dropped her pregnancy announcement as we were leaving Nova Scotia. Swiping through the photos I couldn’t help but be mesmerized at the way her bump had grown in the short time since I’d seen her last. She was very obviously pregnant now and though her photos only barely showed her face it was easy to see how much pregnancy suited her and how she was glowing because of it. 
Unsurprisingly the announcement garnered some attention both positive and negative. There were people both in her personal life and around the league that were absolutely thrilled for her. Then there were people that had very much jumped to conclusions as she expected they would and though there really wasn’t anything I could do, I was angry that I couldn’t protect her from their harsh words and suspicions. If I thought she’d let me, I’d chew out every idiot on the internet but deep down I knew that kind of attention would only make things worse. Instead, I focused on distracting her away from that content, asking questions about her plans for a nursery while trying to hide the feelings that were getting harder and harder to suppress.  
By the time her birthday arrived in the second week of July, I was determined to do something special for her. Though we were once again on opposite sides of the country I had been planning for her birthday since we left Vegas. In addition to sending flowers, I’d booked her a pregnancy massage session hoping to help alleviate some of the aches and pains she’d been complaining of. It didn’t seem like much to me but when she called after her appointment raving over how much better she felt, it was evident that my gesture was appreciated. Though I didn’t generally make posts for others on their birthdays, I felt compelled to share a few photos of the woman who had brightened my life up just by being a part of it. It was a little sappy but if anyone deserved it, it was her. 
Though we talked almost daily and her selfies came more frequently as dustbunny continued growing, I still found myself counting the days until I would see her in person next. And to be frank, it couldn’t come soon enough. I was completely screwed...but to be honest there was a part of me that knew that the moment I first laid eyes on her. 
Chapter 10 Social Media:
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Vegas Lights - L. Hemmings Chapter 9: Sorry, didn’t know that my official title was ‘wife’ now.
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This book is all of my own work. Please do not copy or steal. This is also posted on my personal Wattpad account @/defensive_sarcasm17.
"What's with your face?" Luke's brows were furrowed as he cast his eyes on the glassy eyes of the blonde woman. Her face was blotched in random spots and she looked no better than she had when he woke up in her room that morning.
He actually found her to look better with no clothes on.
He had spent his time since he left her room sitting at the bar, downing drink after drink. He had even snuck away with one of the waitresses for a moment only to return to find Carter standing like a deer in headlights with her earphones plugged in her oddly small ears.
She didn't have her glasses on, nor did she have a speck of makeup coating her face. Luke couldn't help but wonder if the cosmetics could even cover the tomato colored spots on her face.
He knew his words were rude, but the liquid courage sent his conscience away. Not that he had seen it in a while anyways.
"Excuse me?" She was annoyed. Anybody could tel that. "My face, thank you very much, is in recovery from a panic attack."
Her arms were crossed over her torso, and he shamelessly glanced at the way her breasts rose up.
He wasn't raised to think of women like this, but every time he had alcohol in his stomach he said goodbye to intelligent thought.
"Sorry," he grumbled, returning to his seat at the table a few feet away from Carter.
He looked up expectantly as his behind connected to the wooden stool, surprised that she didn't trail after him like most girls did.
Her eyes met his as he gazed at her with shock. Her brows were still pinched and she frowned at him. "What're you looking at?"
He wondered for a moment if she meant to snap at him, but he brushed it off as a side effect of the panic attack she experienced.
He didn't know much about mental health, and he was rather skeptical of if, himself, but he didn't necessarily care enough about the blonde woman to ask if she was okay.
Instead, he adopted a bored expression. "Aren't you going to sit?" He gestured to the seat across from him. "I figure we need to chat, yknow, man to wife."
"Sorry, I didn't know my official title was 'wife' now," she snapped once again. "What could you possibly have to say to me?"
For some reason, Luke found it hard to get along with the woman. He found her very bitchy, and in the small space of time he spent with her, she hadn't proved to be interesting. Not one bit.
In fact, he can't even understand how he managed to find her enough to marry in a drunken haze. Maybe drunk Luke just really wanted to get her in the sack.
She definitely seems like the 'no sex before marriage' type, he thought to himself.
"Is it wrong for me to want to talk to my wife? Or discuss an agreement with a possible business partner?" He smirked around the neck of his beer. He didn't miss how her eyes seemed to fire up as the words slipped past the confines of his lips.
"Call me that one more time and I will make you regret it," she hissed, begrudgingly taking a seat across from him.
Carter had always been the kind type. If somebody was nice to her, she was even nicer to them. But Luke, Luke was something else.
Every time he opened his mouth, she could hear the condescension fall from his lips. Almost as if he were patronizing her for merely existing.
He reminded her of her grandmother. And her elder sister.
She despised it.
"Look, Karen-"
"Carter," she hissed.
"Look, Carter, I don't know about you, but I don't exactly feel like dragging you around with me for the next six months-"
"The feeling is more than mutual," she fixed a strong glare onto him, and tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of drowning that encompassed her body when she thought of her current situation.
"I doubt that," Luke smirked, blue eyes turned up as if he found the idea genuinely funny. "Who wouldn't want to marry me? I'm a rockstar." He ignited Carter's scoff. He had already discovered how to rile the woman up, and he was growing fond of it. "As I was saying, I don't want to be stuck with you, but, I spoke to the guys and they have a different idea."
Carter felt her stomach sink slightly.
"What do they think?" Her voice was softer, loose of the harsh tone she previously held.
Luke struggled to force the next words out. He hated to be reminded of his wrongdoings. "They think that I need to curb my bullshit. They think I need to allow myself time to 'heal'." He waves his long fingers in the air to signal quotation marks. "Mostly, they want me to stop sleeping with any girl that gives me attention, because it's giving us a bad rap."
Carter couldn't stop the sad feeling that bubbled in her throat. Luke was hurt. She had heard about his overexploited break up with his girlfriend, and she knew that he was, to a degree, out of control.
Binge drinking, assaulting bar staff, sleeping with countless women.
Reminded Carter of what her and Jo were like in their first year of college.
"So, they think that this agreement would be a great way to help shift my public image."
"Why can't you do it on your own?" Carter was genuinely curious. "Why do you feel the need to put yourself, and your band, in such a bad position? Wouldn't you want to set an example for you fans? A breakup can't have affected you that badly-"
"You know nothing about me." His jaw was clenched as the words slipping through clenched teeth. He hissed each syllable, allowing the blonde woman across from him to jump back slightly. "You don't know what happened in my fucking relationship. Who the fuck are you to question me? To question my choices?"
His voice was low. Menacing.
A chill went down Carter's spine and for a second, she felt as if she were a child standing under the harsh gaze of an authoritarian figure.
Luke was ranting, his eyes not meeting hers as he rambled about how little people like to comment on his life choices.
For a second, Carter let her eyes fall shut. This wasn't the first time she had been snapped at in such a way by an individual who believed themself to be above her. Nor will it be the last.
Nor was it the first time she was spoken to in degrading way. She had people she trusted more regard her as less, and she wouldn't let somebody with an ego as large as Luke Hemmings' speak to her like that.
Her eyes reopened. She set her jaw to match his, ignoring his words.
"Okay, I get it." She tried, only for him to continue rambling. She pushed a piece of hair away from her eyes, rolling the blue orbs within their flesh confines. She had enough, as Luke continued to rant, repeating his words as the alcohol overwhelmed him. "Will you shut the fuck up? Please?" She yelled, drawing attention from some of the staff.
The bar area was practically empty, as it was only 11:30 am, on a Saturday.
Luke's rant fell short, his mouth snapping shut at the outburst. He hadn't expected for her to snap at him. He was very used to being the dominant force in every relationship.
Every one apart from his relationship with Alexis.
The way Carter snapped reminded him of the woman, and his hands involuntarily began to shake.
He buried them underneath the table as soon as he felt the tremor.
"I'm sorry for snapping," Carter's for eyes watched him carefully, the guilt forming a glaze over the cerulean. "Look, I'm not pretending to know what you've been through, nor am I trying to tell you how to live your life. I'm trying to understand why you're in this position."
Her voice was soft. Calm. Comforting.
For a second, he was enveloped in the words that fell from her plump lips.
"I don't want to talk about it," Luke grumbled as he connected his hands underneath the table. Even thinking about his clusterfuck of a relationship and the effect it had on him was enough to bring up his desire to drink. Which is the reason he pushed it down so much.
Surprisingly, Carter didn't push him.
She pushed her chair out, placing her bare feet onto the ground. Luke felt relief at the thought of her leaving him alone.
"I'll be in contact with your manager soon," she nodded, turning on her bare heel and stalking away from the man.
Carter was well aware that she was possibly making a bad decision. She knew that it could be more damaging to her career than helpful if things went sour.
But she also knew, that her father raised her to help others out. She couldn't sit by and know that somebody could be damaging their career and drowning in their own depression when she could have helped them.
She couldn't do that to another person.
She had her limits, she knew that this could go wrong.
But more importantly, she knew that Luke, and his friends, needed the help.
She was too absorbed in her thoughts to take the elevator up to her floor. The sound of her feet tapping against the carpeted steps did nothing to fill her determination.
The door to room 304 flew open, and the three women inside turned their heads to their short friend.
Stephanie was the first to speak, growing tired of the silence as Carter stood against the closed wooden door.
"So are we doing this shit or not? I have a schedule to organize for when we get back to L.A."
Carter pushed out a deep breath, attempting to steel her nerves for the coming admission.
"Let's do this."
Josephine clapped, "great. Go shower, you look like you just ran ten laps."
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whirlybirdwhat · 5 years
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Hello, 'tis me, again, with more rambling Glasses or contact lenses to make eyes of df users less shiny sound legit as an existence, but I think? Most of them would be in world government hands. Similar to sea stone maybe, but potentially less Wano? Though they could be glasses made with sea stone dust or something, that could be interesting. I could also picture Dr Vegapunk inventing them. And while we're a vegapunk, didn't he also make weapons eat fruits? (1/?)
I think Vegapunk did. And remember two of those df weapons: Funkfried, the elephant sword of Spandam, and the bomb barking dog back in Alabasta (Mrs Christmas and Mr 4 I think). Which, technically, wow, cool thing that that works but also,,, how. And then: did they have to 'tame' the animal weapons after their creation? I mean dogs are good boys and elephants are gentle creatures, but still. Also, while I'm not sure how shiny eyes applies to weapon form, shiny elephant eyes are now a thing
Back with shiny eyes, on your right you can see the heavenly demon staying true to his name, because imagine Doflamingo sitting in a dark place, light flashes, eyes do their shiny thing, and he is cackling. That Is Some Supreme Creep. On that note, evenings with the doflamingo fam must have been generally heart attack inducing, too. So many df users. And family photos! I wonder if there are exorcists or something in the blues where df are not as well known as on the grand line. 
Another thing: Doflamjngo makes strong puppet copies of himself. Do they have the shiny eyes too? I mean, asking the law of physics, probably no, but whenever has one piece actually listened to laws of physics. Is he always wearing sunglasses to not always have the shiny eyes? Robin makes copies of herself too, as it's the whole thing of her df. I'd say they have all the shiny eyes. Also! Robin! Eldritch being confirmed, but also, with so many extra limbs and eyes, I could imagine 
- I could imagine that on one island she isn't looked at as potential eldritch horror, but maybe an angel, going with the old biblical angels of Too Many Eyes iirc. Bonus: everyone on Sabaody after 3D2Y must be new to grand line, overworked, or...dumb? bc how can anyone fall for the fake Luffy trap if he doesn't have shiny eyes? I think general marines may be overworked, bc new HQ in NW, more pirates bc of WB last words i guess. Doesnt excuse the pirates tho. Maybe they didnt see his eyes? - Minchen0897
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HOLY FUCK IM SCREAMING this is all so good oh my gosh.
Anyway for the lenses - definitely Vega punk made the clear looking ones that alter the light, but I think that normal shades (so Doflamingo’s eyes) would also block it as well... but also Vegapunk becoming interested in the science of Df eaters hmmmmm many thoughts many thoughts many suspicions fgdhjsak
And yeah! DF weapons are the coolest! Theres the gundog and funkfreed, but Rakuyo, one of Whitebeard’s commanders, also has a flail that ate a devil fruit, (though the df isunconfirmed! )Pretty cool and it has like demon eyes, which imagining just this hunk of metal flying at you absolutely terrifying with it’s demon eyes I would cry its so cool. 
If they didn’t have visible eyes though... what if they just freaking glowed. Like working like tapetum lucidem in theory but without the actual science and just shined sense their whole ‘body’ is the eyes??? Idk food for thoughts.
Doflamingo is an awesome case because in canon we haven’t even seen his eyes - so picture this. those who interact with df users know about the shiny eyes - but they haven't seen mingos. They say he’s eaten the string fruit but are we sure? What if he’s lying? what if he’s truly a heavenly demon?  Rumors erupt adding to his fame 10/10 concept. 
His clones would have the shiny eyes if we could see them this is truth I say it now.
Eldritch being Robin going to a new island doing her usual thing expecting to be creeping ppl out but instead she’s revered and offered gifts and thank you and praises for the message she brings, and robins face has never smiled more she prefers this revered angel treatment a lot.
.... in theory though, could robin, if she had like a glowing ball, attach her eyes to it to make her look like one of those flaming hell angels? 
holy shit that would be cool.
AND AS FOR SABAODY! Here’s what im going with! I might have said this before to idk, the tag for all the posts should be devil fruit users have tapetum lucidum I think so maybe check that out. ANYWAY
Here’s the theory - shiny eyes are a rumor, nothing confirmed, one you only know if you have interacted with a df user in the right lighting. Sabaody’s far too bright for shiny eye science, however, most people don’t think its true in the first place -df users on pirate crews are common, but in modern islands? nah. 
God I love this shiny eyes offers much more world building to op im losing my shit I love receiving these
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dexondefense · 5 years
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Ugly & Mean
Pairing: Kent/Tater Word Count: 3432 Rated G
Kent had pictured meeting his soulmate a million times, but all those cheesy romances had never prepared him for how awkward it was when the universe suddenly grabbed a total stranger and told you they were your perfect match.
Kent Parson never said he didn’t want a soulmate.
He’d tried out the lie once or twice, but despite his best looks of indifference everyone had seen right through him. After all, it really was such a cliche. Everyone who didn’t have a soulmark said they didn’t want a soulmate. You were pathetic if you admitted you wished you had one, and somehow even sadder if you lied and said you were happy without one.
Damned if you do and damned if you don’t. So Kent kept his mouth shut in public and only lost sleep once or twice a week wondering what might be.
Jack had a soulmark.
It was a tiny little thing, written in a looping font across his hip bone. The words dainty and small along the expanse of Jack’s chest. Kent’s hand fit perfectly over them, blocking them from his sight and from his mind anytime they found themselves alone and Jack’s shirt lay forgotten on the floor.
“Careful, the maple pecan is hot!”
It was such a funny and random statement, just unique enough that Kent knew it belonged to someone sweet and sentimental. The kind of person who would get lost in the soft curve of Jack’s smile and who would make him laugh that surprised sort of gasp he did whenever he thought something was funny. Kent didn’t know who would tell him to be careful of the maple pecan, but Kent doubted he was going to get along with them.
It didn’t matter in the end, not when everything went to Hell with a hand grenade. Kent had been told that wasn’t the saying, but he found it more appropriate. Kent went to Nevada and Jack went to rehab. Kent tried for days, calling and texting and calling again for good measure, but Jack didn’t answer any of his attempts. When he finally broke down and called Alicia her voice was soft when she answered.
“I’m sorry honey, he doesn't want to talk right now. He’s doing better though. I’m sure he’ll call you when he’s ready.”
Her voice had been so soft and so motherly that Kent had called his own mother just seconds after thanking her, just to feel grounded somewhere that wasn’t the flashing lights of the city or the oppressive heat of the desert. Vegas wasn’t home yet and his best friend had almost died and there was no one to talk to except his mother in New York and he felt like the entire hockey world had turned its eyes to him when Jack remained firmly behind closed doors and he didn’t know what to do.
He didn’t tell his mother that. Just told her he wanted to talk, his voice echoing off the tiles of his bathroom as he perched himself on the edge of the tub. She had rambled about her day and asked about his new cat and his new place and his new team, and when his ankle had itched he had scratched it without thinking much of it.
It was hours later as he changed for bed that he saw the smudge of black just above his foot. Later he would be embarrassed about how long it took him to realize it wasn’t some dirt he had picked up from the walk home. He nearly tripped over his own feet in his excitement to read it, to finally know where he was supposed to be in the world.
The writing was thick and ugly looking, like it had been scratched by someone who already could barely make a straight line attempting to write while they were riding on the back of a horse. It took him five minutes to understand what it said and then the weight of that statement hung heavy on his shoulders.
A few guys on the team had soulmarks out in the open.
“Is this seat taken?”
“Excuse me, I think you dropped this.”
“Your dog is adorable, can I pet him?”
But Kent had never been anyone mundane or normal enough to earn himself such a statement. Because scratched on his ankle, in an angry and aggressive scrawl, were his words, harsh and biting. Kent stared at the ink in the silence of his apartment, his heartbeat in his throat and his chest aching with an emotion he couldn’t identify.
When he found his breath, he couldn’t stop laughing.
Jack was gone, at least from him. Kent had gone first in the draft and he had the eyes of the world on him, and he was thousands of miles from anywhere he had ever called home in a city they called Sin. And now he had a soulmate. There was nothing about the situation that was funny in particular, but all together it felt like a riot. There were tears in his eyes and he didn’t know if it was relief or fear, but either way it felt good to let it go.
Because Jack Zimmermann could keep his reclusive ways and his boring maple pecan lover.
Kent Parson had a soulmate, and they sounded like they was going to be fun.
KEEP READING ON AO3
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nakedandrawroger · 5 years
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I’m All Yours (Roger Taylor x Reader)
Summary: You and Roger are childhood friends living together. While planning your vacation, Roger decides to express his true feelings.
Word Count: 1,274
Warnings: fluff, light smut
Author’s note: I was thinking about Area 51 while writing this because I’m going there soon so haha oops. Also I hope you enjoy the light smut because I usually write none or A LOT (go hard or go home am i right?) 
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You step out of the shower, your hair damp and darker from the wetness. You grab a towel from the nearby rack and wrap it around your body. You start humming a song that you and Roger have always loved, you forget what it’s called.
You and Roger have been childhood friends ever since you were ten years old. You used to be next door neighbors growing up and would always play through the fence or sometimes play in the front yard. You were never aloud to go over to each other’s houses though. That was a strict rule from your mother and Roger’s mother. But as the years went on, that rule soon was sneaked around. But now, at the age of 23, you and Roger were living together as friends. Of course, you’ve always had your secret thoughts about Roger in the back of your mind.
Knock knock knock
Your thoughts were broken by the sound of knocking at the bathroom door.
“Y/N, are you out of the shower?” It was Roger at the door.
“Yes, you can come in.” You yell to Roger outside of the door. The door opens and Roger sneaks in with a smile on his face.
“So I wanted to ask you about our vacation next month. So what’s the itinerary again?” Roger asks. You and Roger were traveling to The United States next month to visit the one of your favorite alien tourist spots. UFOS and aliens were always a passion of yours and you are so thankful that Roger actually is willing to go with you.
Roger watched Y/N as her face lit up when talking about the vacation. It wasn’t just the fact that you were so beautiful, it was the way that you talked about your favorite things that made Roger fall in love with you. Ever since you were little kids.
“So we’re gonna have to drive like two and a half hours from Las Vegas but it’s okay because we’ll have great music in the car and lots of food to eat.” You discuss the vacation while applying a face scrub to your face. “Then when we get to Crystal Springs we will have to take pictures next to the signs and then go into the Merchandise Shop.” You continue. Of course, Roger has heard this itinerary many times. The only reason he asked again was to see how excited you got.
As you go on about the long drive, Roger notices the things about you that you try to hide. He notices the stretch marks on your upper thighs and the multiple bruisings from you being clumsy and falling up the stairs. It’s these little things about you that Roger loves the most.
“So basically there’s two gates to the base which take like twenty minutes to get to and then there’s a cafe where we can eat, which is so cute! I can’t wait for you to see it.” you continue about the trip as you wash your face off in the sink. Roger can’t help but smile.
“You’ve always wanted to go here didn’t you? Ever since we were kids?” Roger asks you. You turn around to Roger, drying your face off on small towel.
“Yeah I’ve been studying it for years. Remember?” You start.
Flashback
It was the summer of 1963 when the both of you were 13 years old. Your mom was out of town, so you snuck Roger into your house for the first time.
“Wow, I’ve never seen the inside of your home before this so cool.” Roger says looking around your living room. You grab his hand and drag him to through the hallway.
“Come see my room!” You say as you pull him along. You get to your room which has space decor everywhere. Glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, globes and planets on the desk and your bedcovers which had aliens on them.
“Wow, you weren’t lying about the space theme. I love it!” Roger says scoping out your room.
“Thank you! One day I’m going to be an astronaut and I’ll take you to space with me.” You tell Roger. “And one day we will visit my favorite Alien conspiracy spot!”
“But Y/N, isn’t that in America? We won’t have the money for that.” Roger says back.
“Don’t worry Roger we’ll figure it out one day.” you say making eye contact with Roger and grabbing ahold of his hand in comfort.
End of Flashback
Ever since that day, Roger has been eagar to make enough money to take you there. With the band being so successful, Roger finally made your wish come true.
“Hey Rog, why doesn’t Brian come along on the trip? Isn’t he into space and stuff?” You ask Roger while brushing your teeth. The truth is that Roger only wants you and himself on the trip because that’s where he is going to profess his love for you.
“Um, Brians not really into alien stuff he’s more into stars and astronomy.” Roger makes an excuse. As a teenager, Roger thought it was just lust for you. He then realized that he wanted to make you happy and be with you. He just didn’t know if you felt the same.
Just seeing you brush your teeth made Roger feel happy. This love confession couldn’t wait until the vacation, it needed to happen now. 
You finish brushing your teeth and walk into your room with the towel still around yourself. You try to shut the door to change, but Roger runs up stopping it.
“Roger what are you doing?” You ask, unable to close the door.
“Y/N, I need to tell you something.” Roger says with admiration beaming from his eyes. 
“And It can’t wait until I get dressed?” You ask, unaware of Roger’s lovestruck looks toward you. Roger pushes the door fully open and walks into your room.
“No, I must tell you now. Y/N... I am in love with you. I have been ever since we were kids. I know this sounds so stupid and I hope this doesn’t ruin our vacation if you don’t feel the same way about me. It’s just that I needed to tell you now because-” Roger goes on and on, tripping over his words like a school boy with a crush. You don’t care though. You have secretly been waiting for Roger to say those words because you felt the exact same. You let him ramble on for a few more seconds. 
“Roger, stop.” You say, stopping his flow of words. “Kiss me.” you whisper to Roger even though you are the only ones in the room. Roger doesn’t hesitate, he just smiles before touching his lips with yours softly. He doesn’t want to go too rough but you decide the opposite. You drag your hand to the buttons on Roger’s pants and push him lightly on the bed.
“So does this mean you love me too?” Roger asks looking at you in the eyes while licking his lips.
“Yes Roger, I love you.” you say. Immediately after those words leave your mouth, Roger smiles and kisses you again while caressing the curves of your body over the towel you’re wearing. The towel seems to be an inconvenience, so you remove it, showing Roger your whole self. Roger eyes you up and down.
“You’re beautiful Y/N, I’ve always wanted to tell me that.” Roger says. “I’m so glad you’re all mine.” You start to unzip Roger’s jeans, slowly. As you tease him, you lean down by Roger’s ear and whisper
“Im all yours.”
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