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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 20 | S.R.)

Summary: Reader lies to Spencer.

A/N: Please read the content warnings for this one if you have basically any triggers, lol. This is a very heavy chapter - it is the penultimate climax of the story. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Angst (NSFW) Content Warning: 🚨 IMPORTANT – READ BEFORE READING🚨 This episode covers a number of very dark topics, and should be approached at a time when you have support systems available. Potential triggering topics include: sexual assault, violations of consent, suicide, self-harm, pregnancy/termination, infertility, domestic dispute, fighting, and underage drinking, sex w/ blanket consent Word Count: 11K

MASTERLIST

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Rossi’s house was every bit as extravagant as I had expected. I had come in honestly hoping to be slightly disappointed so I could mock him for it, but, as always, he had to force his appearance to be as unnecessarily elegant as possible.

That being said, I was a little surprised to find that most everyone gathered in one spot - the kitchen. It was only to be expected, considering it was usually the happiest room in the home. That certainly remained true for Rossi. But they were also all gathered there because that was where the wine was – wine that I was not allowed to drink.

Rossi didn’t have a problem with it… Spencer did. Because of course he did. And while I politely declined when Rossi offered me some, anyway, I found another offer a little more tempting. Which explains why I found myself clutching Derek’s flask and draining half the contents quickly enough to remind him that I was, in fact, in college.

And if anyone were to ask, I would simply tell them that we were hanging out in the hall outside the bathroom to have a very deep and secret heart-to-heart about our shared love for a certain mop headed genius. It would have been the perfect cover to use on pretty much everyone except…

“Ahem.”

The sound of Spencer’s throat clearing behind me was enough to cause me to choke, and I quickly tossed the closed flask back to an already giggling Derek as I shouted, “Fuck!” I didn’t even turn around when his hand snaked around my hip. Instead, I just groaned.

“The narc’s here,” I whispered to Derek, but he knew better than to answer.

“The narc?” Spencer balked, much to his friend’s delight.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Derek offered in consolation, taking a swig out of the flask and earning a very defensive glare from my boyfriend. In fact, Spencer seemed downright pissed, which wasn’t what I had been expecting when I agreed.

Oops. What’s the male equivalent of a cat fight?

“Morgan, didn’t you lecture me about her drinking underage a few months ago?” he snapped, grabbing the flask from a more than willing Derek. Spencer sniffed the contents and immediately recoiled, tossing it back again.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he mumbled, shooting a glance down to see me sort of just making heart eyes at the sight of my boyfriend being a stupid level of jealous that I'd been caught in the hallway with another boy.

“How does that make it better? That makes it patently worse,” he argued. Derek might have responded to it, too, if I hadn’t latched myself onto Spencer’s side.

“You’re so cute when you get all stupid and possessive,” I drawled, burying my face in his shoulder in what I think was supposed to be a playful kiss, but actually just ended up being a muffled laugh.

“That,” Derek chuckled, pointing to me teetering back and forth on my heels at Spencer’s side, “That is my cue to leave.” With one final wink, he whispered, “Don’t be too hard on him, Princess.”

Spencer’s angry sigh and entirely stiff posture should have served as my warning, but it was just funny to me at the time.

“They all think I’m the boss of us,” I giggled. “Me! The boss!”

“You’re drunk.” His tone dropped the second Derek was out of earshot, and on intimidation alone, he managed to back me against the wall.

“So is everyone but you. They won’t even notice,” I mumbled, although the more the hallway started to spin, the less I believed that. I'd never been very good at math or shots, and this was a pretty horrible miscalculation of just how much of my tolerance I’d lost.

“You really couldn’t wait a few more months? Or at least until we got home?”

He was chastising me, and I just wasn’t there to hear it. I probably could have figured it out if I’d tried, but it all sounded like sexy nonsense at the time. Walking my fingers down his chest, I paused at his belly before hooking them in his pants and pulling his hips against mine.

“I’m allowed to drink if my daddy says so,” I purred.

Spencer didn’t find my taunt as charming as I’d hoped, and before I knew it his hand was roughly pressed over my jaw. He tilted my head back to look him in the eyes, and I wondered if he could smell the whiskey on my breath.

“Well, I didn’t,” he growled.

I never said I was a perfect person, or even a smart one. And when I was drinking and Spencer whipped out his Daddy voice, I don’t know what he really expected me to do. But apparently, trying to grab his dick through his pants was the wrong move. He snatched my hand away quickly, slamming it against the wall before he continued his little impromptu lecture.

“I’m not rewarding you for this. We’re going home.”

“That’s not a very scary threat,” I deadpanned, throwing my body weight back against the wall.

That lasted about four seconds before he pulled me back to my feet and leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “Just wait, little girl. Just you wait until I get my fucking hands on you.”

I was going to make a snarky joke, to remind him that his hands were surely and firmly already on me, but I never got the chance. We were both too distracted by the very loud and very high pitched squeal of Penelope as she rounded the corner.

“Ah! I saw nothing!” she shouted, covering her face with her hands and refusing to remove them.

“Yeah, because we aren’t doing anything,” I laughed. But then, being the slightly cruel brat that I was, I stuck my tongue out at Spencer before tacking on a completely unnecessary, “anymore.”

“We weren’t doing anything before either!” he squeaked back. He wasn’t using his Daddy voice anymore. So swiftly, so easily, he’d been knocked from his higher footing.

Penelope took the words to heart, but only enough to slowly lower her fingers and peek between them. With a shaky voice and an awkward laugh, she started to rant. “Oh. It’s fine. I’m cool. We’re all cool. We don’t have to talk about that thing from the first time I met you ever again. Because we said we’d never talk about it again, do you remember that?”

“I do remember that,” I answered with a very sarcastic tone and a nod.

“And I just brought it up again, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” I whispered, “Yes, you did.”

“I’m so sorry. Spencer, Hotch is looking for you,” she rushed, turning to the beet-red boy at my side. “Okay, that’s it. Take your time, because I’m cool and not at all mortified.” She was basically already gone before she'd even finished talking, taking off in the direction she'd come from while downing the drink in her hand.

With a loose, clumsy wave I shouted back, “Bye, Penelope.”

“Mortified is a good word. An accurate word,” Spencer huffed as he wiped a hand over his face. His bashfulness, while cute, was not as exciting as the pre-Penelope behavior.

Running my hands underneath his blazer and up his back, I pressed my chest against his. “Gosh, Dr. Reid. You need to be more appropriate in such a public setting.”

The words, while meant to get him riled up, did more to frustrate me. My drunken mind was more than happy to revert to the metro, and before I knew it, my daydreams were filled with images of Spencer stuffing me into the tiniest closet he could find and having his way with me.

“Oh, I’m the one lacking manners?” Spencer chuckled as he apparently read my very lewd thoughts. He pried my arms off of him and pulled them back to rest at my sides before pressing a strangely chaste kiss on my forehead. “Go get your stuff. I’m going to go talk to Hotch and I’ll meet you by the door.”

Before he disappeared around the corner, he shot me one last warning glance and ordered, “Do not mingle!”

“Don’t worry, I will!” I yelled back.

Once he was gone, it was my job to figure out how to make my body work again. Luckily, it wasn’t the first time I’d had too much to drink in a room filled with drunk adults. Granted, they usually weren’t all cops, but, whatever.

Turns out, it somehow made it easier. I managed to grab my things off the counter without alerting anyone except Penelope, who quickly turned back around with a blush. She probably figured I was gonna go blow him in the bathroom or something. I’d have been offended if the thought hadn’t literally just crossed my mind. I made it all the way to the door before I heard it. Back through the halls, a few of the group had separated to talk about how much harder it had been to see Hotch and JJ. It was nothing, just a little bug spreading through daycares like wildfire. That wasn’t what upset me, though.

No, the thoughts running through my head were more than just a passing thought of kids sick with a cold. I looked up at the walls of the entryway to Rossi’s home and saw intricate moulding and nothingness. I saw the exquisite, pristine rug underneath my feet, and I thought about how lonely it felt.

I was standing in a house that should have felt happy, filled with friends and family and love. There was no doubt that everyone who was there wanted to be there, and probably had nowhere else they’d rather be. But the tall ceilings and thousands of square feet felt so goddamn empty.

It isn’t the building, I heard a tiny, terrified voice call out from inside my own conscience.

It’s you. You’re empty.

I had to leave. I had to get out of the house. I had to hear the silence so that the nothingness would feel more appropriate and less noticeable. I couldn’t let them see me, because if they saw me, they would know. They would know that I was nothing but a husk of the girl they used to know. Without even thinking, I threw the door open, stumbling forward and almost falling flat on my face as I misjudged the small step down to the patio.

“Fuck!” I muttered, the world rocking around me with a stubborn persistence. If it weren’t for the frankly freezing temperature, I was sure I would have been sick. To make matters worse, there was a person quickly approaching.

“Hey, are you and Spence leaving already?”

It was JJ. Thank god, it was JJ. Probably the only person who wouldn’t make fun of me for being a mess on Rossi’s steps after only a few shots of whatever Morgan was drinking.

“Oh. Hey, JJ. Yeah. He’s…” I turned to my side, half expecting Spencer to be there to answer for me. But he wasn’t, so I ended up just pointing to the closed door before slurring, “he’s doing a thing.”

She was, per usual, very kind when faced with my buffoonery, and just laughed as she shook her head. “A thing. Sounds like him.”

I honestly thought that would be the end of it. It was a good, easy segue into a farewell. She already knew we were leaving, and she knew Spencer well enough to know that he wouldn’t leave me alone for long.

And I think she almost did leave. She almost walked right past me and into the warmth and comfort of a home filled with family and friends. But she didn’t. She stopped and asked me the one question I was really hoping she wouldn’t.

“Are you alright?”

I didn’t want her to ask because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to lie to her. Even if I could have managed it, she would have seen right through me in a second. Not only would it have been an exercise in futility, but she would also know that I thought it was worth it to try to lie.

So, I was honest… quite possibly too honest.

“No, not really. But it’s a lot and I’m kind of drunk, so…”

The mom eyes appeared so quickly, with JJ’s body turning entirely away from the door and over to me. “Not usually a good combination, but an understandable one,” she softly replied, wrapping her arms around herself to make up for the fact that she was sacrificing her comfort in many different ways to talk to me, instead.

She was probably just being nice— staying with me until Spencer could come take over the babysitting of the drunk twenty year old, but I wasn’t exactly thinking critically at the time. Which is only part of the reason why I blurted out the only thing on my mind; the thing that had been haunting me for longer than I wanted to admit even to myself, much less another person.

“Has Spencer ever talked to you about kids?”

The air, still freezing, also fell uncomfortably silent.

“Oh…” she mumbled under her breath, clearly unsure of how to handle that particular minefield of a topic. Especially with her best friend’s girlfriend, who also happened to be drunk. I almost told her to forget about it, but then she looked up at me with a powerful resolve. “Yeah, he has. Why?”

I thought about my next words more carefully, although you wouldn’t have been able to tell considering how much I stuttered.

“Do you think… Do you think he’d be happy if… I can’t have them?” I asked, wringing my hands together over my stomach. “Like, not just happy today, but like ten years from now?” I could hear how desperate I sounded, but I needed someone to hear the words playing on loop in my mind. Absolutely frantic and with tears pooling in my eyes, I asked, “Do you think he’d still love me if I can’t give him kids?”

“(Y/n), slow down. It’s okay!” JJ urged, lunging forward to cup my cheeks and gently wipe away any stray tears. “Don’t cry! You’ll ruin your make up and it looks like you spent a lot of time on it.”

I had to laugh because not only was it my exact brand of humor, she said it with such a serious face that I had to wonder if it was genuinely her biggest concern. Of course, I knew it wasn’t. In her usual JJ way, she just knew the easiest way to cheer me up was with a laugh.

“Yeah, there’s like $80 on my face, it’s really not worth it to cry,” I agreed, sniffling softly when she finally pulled away her hands. At least I could blame that part on the cold.

“Exactly. And if you cry, then I’ll cry, and then I’ll also ruin my make up, and we’ll just be $150 down the drain with nothing to show for it,” she joked with a tired roll of her eyes and a shrug.

Together, we laughed, finding a pocket of warmth in a world that often felt too cold. Behind JJ’s eyes though, I saw an empathy I wasn’t expecting. That small, instinctual part of my brain tugged at my heart, telling me that there was an unspoken bond forming. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know why. I had a feeling that it was one of those secrets you just didn’t ask about, so I let it go.

“Thanks. It’s a stupid thought anyway,” I sighed, shuffling my feet and knocking my heels against the somehow spotless patio. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, so why stress about it, right?”

But then JJ said something I wasn’t expecting. Something that I actually really, really needed to hear.

“I don’t know, I think you’re allowed to be worried. It’s normal to feel scared.”

The sentence hit me like a freight train carrying lead and cement. At first, my brain refused to comprehend it at all. I struggled to repeat the idea, not because I was drunk but because it sounded so wrong. I had wanted it to be true so badly, and here she was, telling me it was okay.

Sensing my simultaneous trepidation and revelation, JJ cringed a bit when she said, “But I think it is a good idea to talk to Spence about it instead of me. Because, to be honest, I’ve also had one too many glasses to be helpful.”

That time when I laughed, it was full-hearted and involved every muscle in my body. “God, I love you, Jennifer,” I said through the noise.

She just shook her head, clearly enjoying the drastic mood swing she’d had a great part in. “I love you, too,” she whispered, running her hand over my shoulder and arm to pull me into a small half-hug. And that was how Spencer found us, giggling and sniffling on Rossi’s porch.

“Hey, are you ready to— Oh! Hey JJ,” he stopped, taking a very hesitant step forward in the hope that we wouldn’t both start crying on the spot. Drunk girls had a tendency to do that. “W-What are you guys doing out here?”

She let me go first, shoving her hand, still damp with my tears, into her pockets with a secretive smile. “Girl talk.”

“That usually doesn’t bode well for me,” Spencer answered with an awkward, nervous laugh. He didn’t make a move to grab me yet, probably too scared to step between the two of us. I was too busy giggling at the thought of his mind cycling through all the possible secrets I might have spilled in my uninhibited state.

I was tipsy, but I wasn’t that drunk.

JJ pulled two fingers over her mouth in a cheeky motion as she whispered, “My lips are sealed.”

“An even worse sign,” Spencer winced, turning to finally wrap his arm around me. He must have noticed the chill on my skin, because seconds later he had me practically wrapped in his coat. “I should just cut my losses and get her out of here, huh?”

“Shut up, old man,” I slurred, cuddling closer to his body heat despite my protests. Even in the darkness, I watched the heat bloom in his face at the nickname. By far, the worst part about the situation was the fact that I couldn’t kiss him, because I just knew he would be so warm, and I was really starting to get cold. I suspect that’s why he started to whisk me away, unceremoniously shushing me as JJ cleared her throat and raised her hand in a wave.

Before we got too far, though, I heard her speak again. “Oh! (Y/n), your questions!”

“What about them?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder and nearly falling to the ground as a result.

JJ looked at me, and then back to Spencer, whose arm was wrapped possessively around me. She smiled a pure, toothy grin that filled her face, causing that weird feeling in my gut to flare up again. She saw something in that moment that I wasn’t sure I’d ever really understand, but her voice started to crack just enough to notice when she called out, “The answer is yes. To all of them.”

—————————————————

The ride back to Spencer’s place was uneventful, though I tried very hard to make it interesting. After the fourth time he'd swatted away my hand and threatened to throw me in the back, I gave in to his demand to behave. I blamed my compliance on the alcohol, although it was probably more so a result of total exhaustion.

The respite from socialization was apparently what I needed to be able to function again, because as soon as we pulled into his apartment parking lot, I was awake.

... Awake enough to try and maul him in the hallway. But, in his sober stubbornness, he continued to evade my advances all the way until his front door clicked shut behind us. His hands on my hips had never felt like such a victory before.

“Did you enjoy wreaking havoc all night?” he whispered, slowly leading us towards his room. I couldn’t see where I was going, but I didn’t need to. Even without an eidetic memory, my body cherished this path and the memories it always led to. I trusted him to catch me if I stumbled. Which, I definitely did.

“I’m the cutest devil you’ll ever see,” I slurred.

“At least you admit it,” Spencer laughed. I couldn’t tell if it was at my words or the fact that I was failing terribly at trying to unbutton his shirt. My drunk self was not a skilled multitasker.

Once I felt the bed against the back of my thighs, I hopped on top of the covers before he could even try to help me up. It was muscle memory. We’d been there before.

“I’m feeling more fallen angel tonight,” I sighed, sliding against the comforter until I found his pillow.

Naturally, Spencer saw the way I gravitated to his side. He smiled as he removed his shirt that I’d left mostly intact. “By all means, feel free to stay that way.”

I probably should have taken off my dress, or my shoes, but I didn’t. The world sort of felt like a wave pool on a sunny day, and I was worried that if I paid too much attention to what was going on around me, I'd think about something I really didn’t want to think about.

I couldn’t remember what it was.

But then Spencer’s hands were gliding up and down my calves, and I shuddered at the contact. He took his time removing my shoes before coming up to join me on all fours. I wondered if he could taste the whiskey on my tongue when he kissed me. Did it remind him of the circumstances that had brought us together? Did it remind him of his hangover and sins?

Did he think of monsters when he kissed me?

My hands were tangled in his hair, pulling lightly to try to keep him there. And when he pulled away, I tried to fight him. I tried to follow him, scared that once the kiss was over, I’d start remembering things I probably should have tried to forget.

He must have seen the denial in my eyes, because he hesitated. His hand came up to lightly grab my wrist and lead my hand that had a death grip on his hair down to his face. “Are you too drunk? Should we stop?”

Throwing my head back with a groan, I tried not to hate him for actually caring about me again. “If you stop right now, I’m going to actually scream,” I droned. It got me a laugh, at least.

“That doesn’t comfort me in the slightest.”

Once I opened my eyes, I found myself wishing I hadn’t. It wasn’t that I saw hesitancy or fear in Spencer’s eyes – on the contrary, it was the lack of anything bad at all that bothered me. I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but a sincere, pure adoration that I couldn’t argue with.

I chose to ignore it, instead. I couldn’t remember why it made my stomach hurt.

“Are you going to make me do a sobriety test?” I giggled, letting my hands travel down his shoulders and chest. I wasn’t in as much of a rush as I had been earlier. I wanted to take my time remembering what it felt like to be pinned under him and surrounded by his embrace.

“I’m positive that you’ve practiced those while drunk,” he playfully replied while trying to hide the way goosebumps followed my fingers as they trailed down to more interesting territory.

“Yeah, I can say the alphabet backwards and everything.”

It was meant as a joke, but Spencer apparently had some doubts. With a scrunched up smile, he laughed back as he asked, “Really?”

The fact that he believed I was capable of something like that might have been flattering if it hadn't been based on his incredibly flawed perception of my propensity to lawbreaking. But since it was based on ideas of immorality rather than intelligence, it just made me mad.

Smacking him lightly on the chest, I both pouted and laughed as I snapped back, “No, of course not, asshole!”

Spencer just grinned, giving a delayed wince at the offensive contact before he sat up again. I didn’t realize why at first, but as he slowly started to coax me into turning around, I remembered that I was, in fact, still fully dressed. I figured it was either his way of saying that I’d won, or just an excuse to take off the dress so I might actually go to sleep. I was fine with either.

“I was drunk the first night we met, if you’ve forgotten,” I mumbled, rolling onto my side of the bed and moving my hair so that he wouldn’t catch any in the zipper.

“I definitely haven’t forgotten that night.”

The nostalgia in his voice was both comforting and painful. We’d always joked about that night, though. It wasn’t an insult at all.

“No? Do you think about it often?” I replied playfully, forcing myself not to think too hard about whether he wished I was still the girl he'd met that day.

Spencer made it easy to forget, with his hand starting to draw the zipper down while he leaned forward to whisper in my ear, “I think about it all the time.” My breath hitched in my throat at the way his voice warped into a rough, raspy tone. “You almost made me believe that you were just some shy, innocent little girl.”

This time when he got me to turn back over, there was nothing gentle about it. His hands were clearly craving the kind of violence they got to use last time. I wanted to feel them again.

“We can make a new memory if you want,” I panted, looking up at him with wanton eyes and my dress loose enough to expose parts of my breasts to him.

“Fuck,” he muttered at the sight below him. He pressed his erection against my hip as he ran a hand over my cheek. “Tell me the rules.”

“I tell you to stop if I need to,” I carefully enunciated.

“Good girl,” he moaned, starting to rock against me. Struggling to pull my dress off himself, he pleaded in a slightly pitiful manner, “Can I…?”

I helped him, desperate to feel his skin against mine. I didn’t even think about what it meant for my dress to be gone. It wasn’t until Spencer’s mouth dropped to my chest so enthusiastically that I realized that he’d failed to stop and kiss my lips first.

With both hands on my breasts, he lavished each pebbled peak with his fingers and tongue. He hadn’t ever mentioned the fact that he’d missed me shirtless, but it was painfully obvious in the way his lips trailed along my body. It was obvious in the rumbling of his moans against my skin and the way his hands roughly kneaded the soft tissue.

I was forced to remember why I hadn’t let him see me topless.

I felt naked. Not because of the exposed skin, but because I couldn’t warp reality with lace or cotton anymore. My marred stomach might not have made a physical barrier, but it still made him feel so far away. It was a paralyzing kind of realization, and I felt myself retreat so quickly that it hurt.

Thankfully, it was Spencer who was kissing me. If it had been anyone else, I think I would have just laid there, terrified and small and alone. But I couldn’t do that with him.

“Spencer?” I quietly called, and he immediately stopped, his eyes meeting mine with all the attention a girl could ever ask for. I smiled, and the sensation almost felt foreign.

“Come kiss me here instead,” I said with a little giggle, tapping my lips to bring him back to where I wanted him. And he came to me so quickly, his mouth crashing onto mine in seconds and his hands tangling in my hair.

I had forgotten so quickly how easy it was to get lost in him. Thanks to the alcohol, my mind wasn’t able to stick with any thought for longer than a few seconds. Mixing that with Spencer’s hands and mouth, I was never going to be able to think in more than a few words at a time. And I shouldn’t have needed to, right? It was just sex. We’d done it many times before, and it had never been a disappointment. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of mind — some instinctual warning that told me I was doing something wrong.

I wanted him, so what could be wrong about that? There was nothing painful or unappreciated in the way he lined himself up at my entrance, and I certainly made that much clear. It was hard to even hear him over the sound of my own moans, and my nails dug into his shoulder as I guided him into me with my hips.

“I love you,” I cried, wrapping my legs around his waist and digging my heels into the back of his thighs.

“I love you so much, little girl,” he whispered against my lips, his forehead resting against mine.

For a moment, it was okay. The feeling subsided long enough for me to enjoy the fact that Spencer, the man I loved, loved me back. I thought about how long it had taken us to get to this point, and how I never wanted to lose it again. I held onto him for dear life, rocking my hips to meet his and bringing his mouth down to mine.

It was okay, until he spoke again.

“You’re such a good girl,” he groaned into my mouth, “even when you’re being bad you just want to be useful.”

Useful.

The word had come back to haunt me several times in the recent weeks. I hadn’t said anything about it because I couldn’t understand why it bothered me so much. There was no reason for me to be upset. He was just saying what I usually liked to hear.

So why did it hurt?

And I realized then, that the reason that experience felt so horrible wasn’t because of me at all. It was because it was Spencer. It was Spencer, the man I loved. There he was, trying to love me and comfort me and hold me and I…

In a rush of emotions and memories and repressed regrets, I was forced to face the fact that I had made a terrible mistake. The kind of mistake that if I didn’t do something about it in that exact, immediate moment, would become a disaster. The kind of disaster that meant he might never want to touch me again. The kind that would make him hate me. The kind that would make him leave and I couldn’t blame him for.

I had made a mistake.

“Wait, wait, Spencer, stop!” I slurred, my hands that had been holding him close seconds earlier shoving him off of me with the little force I was capable of. It didn’t take much, though, considering how fast he jumped back.

Frantic and terrified, he grabbed my face and tried to inspect my eyes that were avoiding him. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t look at him. “No, I just really need to stop,” I muttered, my breath picking up even more as I slid away from him, “Can I just— Can you just give me a minute?”

My hands slid over my chest, trying to hide the shame I felt inside to no avail. Spencer only made it worse in the way he quickly grabbed clothing, covering me in his shirt before he dressed himself. He even took the time to find me pants and help me in them, quietly and carefully. Like a doll.

I was going to be sick.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” he croaked brokenly while he curled up at my side, trying to wrap his arms around me before he realized I was shrinking away from his touch. He was so confused. He had no reason to know what was going on, but I could see on his face that he was desperately trying to figure it out.

“Does this have something to do with what you were talking to JJ about?”

An interesting question. I didn’t know the answer.

“Yes. No? Maybe. I guess?” I ran a hand over my face that landed on my throbbing temple. The lack of tears on my face almost surprised me. I probably should have been crying, but I wasn’t. In a way, it felt like I had no tears left to give. When I turned to him, bile rose in my throat and I was afraid that I might choke on it if I didn’t get the words out faster. I just had to tell him. He needed to know.

“Listen, I lied to you. And I need to say something.”

I had just gotten my breathing under control, just in time for his to go erratic. His pulse was visible in his throat as he swallowed. “Lied to me? About what?”

“I…” The world was rocking, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of the alcohol or my brain trying to comprehend my own self-destructive stupidity. I knew which one I was going to blame, though. “Fuck, I didn’t think I was this drunk.”

“What did you lie to me about?” he repeated, his hands gripping handfuls of the sheet in hopes of stopping the rest of his body from trembling.

“Well, I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you.”

It was the most useless clarification, and it did absolutely nothing to appease his concern. The longer the words stayed stuck and muddled in my mouth, the more devastated he seemed. In hindsight, I would realize all the millions of awful reasons his mind must have been feeding him in the absence of the truth.

“Please, whatever it is, just tell me,” Spencer begged with a hesitant, shaky hand coming to rest on top of mine. He wasn’t looking at me anymore. Instead, we both looked down at our hands. It was a mercy and a disservice. I just had to tell him, but I couldn’t convince myself to do it without looking him in the eyes. That didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful that he didn’t look back, though. Because once the words were said, there would be no going back from them.

He was going to hate me.

“I… stopped taking my birth control,” I whispered in a voice that felt so foreign. “Like, a while ago.”

Spencer’s jaw steeled, his eyes widening and shooting up to me with the same speed he used to jump off the bed. Despite my efforts to grab him, to stop him from leaving me, he was five feet away in a matter of seconds.

“What?!” he shouted. It was the loudest I’d ever heard him. Even the echoes felt deafening, and my hands covered my ears with a wince.

“Shit! That was loud!” I whined in a pathetic attempt to make him feel bad for me. I didn’t deserve it, but I think it worked. Because the next time he spoke, it was at a more manageable volume.

“What do you mean you stopped taking your birth control?! When?!”

“Stop yelling at me.” I pulled my knees to my chest and ignored the pain in my stomach when I did so. It felt well deserved.

“You aren’t joking, either. Why didn’t you tell me this?” Spencer continued, his hands raking through his hair while he started to pace the room.

Nothing about it felt real. I felt like I was stuck in one of my million recurring nightmares. I just wanted to wake up, to be somewhere other than in a room too small for the bass in his voice. I only barely saw him when he finally approached me. He still stayed a few feet away, but he met my eyes that stared vacantly at the wall ahead of me.

“Answer me!”

Whether it was the order that broke me or the pain in his voice, all of my resolve and apathy shattered at once.

“You’ve always said you wanted to get me pregnant!” I screamed back, digging my nails into my skin in the hope of finding feeling there.

“Not like this! Not right now!” he scoffed. The sound would have hurt more if he hadn't stepped closer to me when he made it.

“Why not?!” I tried to sound angry, but all I heard was the plea beneath the words.

I just want to be useful. Please let me be useful.

“Are you serious?” Spencer’s disbelief was present in every ounce of his existence. His hands were alternating between fists and flat palms, his voice cracking and wavering in pitch. “What has gotten into you? You know that you can’t have a child right now.”

I bit down on my tongue in one final attempt to keep the scary words inside. But he couldn’t feel the way his words felt just like bullets and scar tissue that would never fully heal again.

“You almost died! Do you—“ he choked, but powered through his body’s attempt to stop the thought. “Do you understand the danger that would put you in?”

“I know, alright?! I know!” The words were loud and hoarse, and I covered my own ears to hopefully drown out the sound of failure on my own tongue. “I know I can’t have a fucking kid right now!”

“Then what are you doing?!”

I don’t know. Please, help me.

He waited for my answer, but it stayed trapped in my head. When I started to rock in place, my hands still clamped over my ears and the tears I swore I didn’t have starting to fall, he sighed.

“Get up, we’re going to the store.”

“Why?” I spat, sinking further into my spot in a purely selfish manner.

“Get up,” he said again, this time reaching out for my hand.

But I didn’t want to touch him. I didn’t want him to touch me like this. I was scared that if I did what he wanted, then the fight would be over. And if the fight ended, then what would be left? Was this all just some elaborate ruse to get me in his car so that he could drive me home and leave me there?

His hand touched mine so softly, with so much patience and love that it burned. Why wasn’t he angrier? He should be.

“No!” I screamed, smacking his hand away from me. Although I knew it didn’t hurt, I saw him wince at the contact. His lips flattened as he looked at the stupid sobbing girl on his bed.

Then he left. He turned on his heel, and with less patience that time, grumbled the explanation he'd refused to give before. “We’re going to the store and getting levonorgestrel so that you don’t make the stupidest mistake of your life.”

It wasn’t the words that got me to move, but the fact that he was quickly leaving the room. I scrambled after him recklessly, crashing into just about every stationary object in the way. The shock had hit me so hard that I forgot I was still drunk.

“Is it really that awful to imagine having a future with me?” I sobbed, chasing after him just to crash into him when he stopped.

He still caught me, but I couldn’t tell you why.

“You know that’s not what this is about.” He sounded so tired, but he kept going. He kept fighting with me even though I could see in his eyes that it was the last thing he wanted to do. “I love you, (y/n)! But you’re acting like… like a child!”

“Fuck you,” I seethed, pushing myself away from him.

I was scared that if I didn’t force our bodies apart, I would have fallen to pieces in his arms again. And I knew he would try to put me back together again. He would try to help me because that’s what he always did. But sometimes things are just completely, irrevocably broken. Sometimes there was simply no fixing it.

Good luck convincing Spencer of that.

“I don’t need this shit and I don’t need to go to the store,” I muttered under my breath as I made my way back into the bedroom to locate my purse that I’d so gracefully thrown on the floor.

“(Y/n), just because the chances of pregnancy are low doesn’t mean they are nonexistent, and I’m not going to be the reason you throw your life away! You said yourself you aren’t ready to be a housewife!” I heard him rambling from the other room. Eventually, he followed the sounds of plastic packaging and rustling paper.

“Shut up,” I groaned, finally getting the tiny pill free and successfully shoving it in my mouth before I managed to drop it. “Just leave me alone, Spencer.”

Obviously, it wasn’t going to work. After all, I was in his apartment, and currently sitting cross legged in the middle of his bedroom and trying to dry swallow a pill that tasted a lot like every mistake I’d ever made.

“When did you buy that? And why do you have it with you?” He didn’t sound angry at all anymore. He didn’t even particularly sound annoyed or confused, just… exhausted.

“You’re welcome for saving you the drive.”

Of all the things he could have done, he chose the one I expected the least. He came to me, and carefully lowered himself to the ground in front of me. At first, that was all he did. He just sat across from me with puppy dog eyes and an awkward posture.

“Look at me,” he called gently.

“I don’t want to.”

He sighed, waiting another second to catch his breath and let the earlier emotions settle in the air. “You had that in your purse. Why?” he asked as he reached forward to grab the remnants of the torn up box and confirm that it was what he thought it was. Once he was satisfied, he just sounded even more broken. “You’ve clearly thought about it enough to plan ahead, but apparently I wasn’t important enough to have a say in any of these decisions.”

The pain that was forming in my stomach hurt worse than the AR-15.

“Were you just… Just planning on making those decisions without even telling me?” He was on the verge of tears, though he tried his very best to hide it. It might’ve worked if I'd been both drunk and an idiot, but unfortunately the adrenaline was combatting the alcohol pretty well at that point.

With both hands covering his face, I could still see the way his jaw tensed between the words. “It would be my child, too,” he forced out, “You don’t— You don’t get to make those decisions without me. T-That’s not fair.”

The sounds were so pitiful, and I wanted to feel anything but what I felt. I wanted to feel angry or sad again, but I couldn’t. All I felt was hate; the most powerful, soul crushing self-loathing imaginable.

I didn’t want to be the reason he cried. I wanted it to stop, but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t control myself. I just kept rubbing salt in the wound so he would leave. So that I could hate him for leaving me instead of hating myself for making him.

“There’s no kid. I would’ve taken it either way.”

That succeeded in getting a response.

“Then what was the point of any of this?!” he fumed, dropping his hands to gestured to the state of us, dressed in pajamas and tears. “If you really believe that, then why tell me? Why risk it at all?!”

“I don’t know.”

“I deserve a better answer than that. That’s bullshit and you know it,” he demanded with an accusing finger.

But I didn’t know that it was bullshit. Really, it was the truth. I didn’t know why I was doing this. All I knew was that if I stopped, if I was just honest with him, I would have to face a reality I wasn’t ready for.

“I deserve the truth,” he said as his hand fell, unable to stay up under the weight of the feeling behind it.

I looked at him and I saw my mistakes in the form of tears trickling down his cheeks and a tremble in his lips. I saw a man who deserved nothing but the greatest love, begging me to give him something to work with. He wasn’t asking me for the world — he just wanted me to talk. To say something so that he could understand why I wanted him to hate me.

I didn’t have an answer. Not one that either of us would believe, anyway.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spencer.” My lips moved without my permission, and my legs quickly followed the traitorous pursuit.

“What does that mean?” he begged me as he followed me. He followed me like he always did, with that suffocating hopefulness that we could make it.

But what if I couldn’t? What if this was it for me? What if, in my desperate desire to push him away, I was saving him from a miserable life with me?

I was trying to save him.

“It means…” I paused, turning to look him in the eyes so that he might finally hear what he needed to in my answer. “It means you should’ve picked a different 20 year old to fuck.”

His jaw finally relaxed, dropping open with a broken breath.

And I think he saw it. I think he saw the way I meant the words from the bottom of my soul. He heard me tell him that he should regret me while I tried to walk away, and he knew that I meant it.

“I’m leaving.” The words surprised me when I heard them in my own voice, but I followed them, nonetheless. I barreled towards the door with bare feet and my keys in my hand.

“Where are you going? You can’t leave like this.” His statements were logical, but that only served to further piss me off.

“You can’t tell me what to do. I’m not your property!”

That wasn’t why I was angry. We both knew that wasn’t why. The real reason, the truth behind the reckless self-destruction was approaching too fast and I couldn’t slow it down. Nothing could stop it from rushing down the predetermined path that we stood on, and I was begging him to get off the tracks.

“If you leave right now, you’re going to fucking kill yourself!”

And then it happened. Practically foaming at the mouth with the unhinged rage that had been boiling underneath my skin for too long, I finally managed to let the words go.

“Maybe that’s the fucking point!”

Silence had never been so loud. It had never been that heavy.

“Have you ever stopped to consider that, Spencer?” I laughed because there was no reason in my mind not to. It all seemed so terribly obvious and we’d been skirting around it for so long. Why were we pretending like this was news? Like we hadn’t heard the horns and seen the headlights approaching?

“Please stop.” It was said like a plea but meant as an order. But I never listened to directions and he already knew that.

“I’m not your problem just because you were unfortunate enough to fall in love with me,” I continued, finding a freedom in being able to finally say what I’d been thinking all along. “Put me out of my fucking misery, Spencer. Just let me go.”

“Stop!” he shouted, pulling fistfuls of his hair as his chest heaved with deep, rasping breaths. I’d heard that voice from him before, but only once. The memories were locked away in the part of my brain that I swore to leave locked up.

I was back in the bank. I could feel his hands slipping in blood on my stomach and pressing into my cheeks. I was in the ambulance again. His hands were so warm that they burned, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to leave. I'd had one foot in the grave then. I felt like I was still there, teetering over the edge with nothing but Spencer’s frantic breathing and desperate begging keeping me from jumping in.

“Stop saying that!” Spencer ordered, his hands letting go just enough to come back down on his head with some force. I jumped at the contact and wondered when I'd started feeling his pain, too. I wondered when we'd found ourselves back in his apartment again.

“Y-You aren’t going to die!” He continued. It didn’t have the force of an order or the pathetic breaking of a cry. It was just a statement he was trying to will into existence. An attempt to ward off memories that reminded him he was capable of losing me. He had already almost lost me once. In a way, it was this same scenario.

It was just that he wasn’t losing me quickly from a gunshot wound. No, I was bleeding out in an entirely different way.

“You can’t— I can’t lose you. I can’t do it again,” he sobbed, falling to his knees and not caring at all about the bruises that would follow. The sight of him collapsing in on himself was terrifying, and I realized for the first time the true consequences of my actions. I couldn’t pretend that I was trying to save him anymore. I couldn’t listen to the congested, barely comprehensible ramblings of a man begging me not to want to die and act like I was thinking of him at all.

I was being selfish. How very much like me.

“Please, anything but that. You can hate me forever, but please don’t…” The words trailed off, and I felt compelled to answer them. I needed something to release the knot in my chest and allow my lungs to fill again.

“I don’t hate you, Spencer. I could never hate you.” The words were infuriating in their honesty, but he needed to hear them. He needed to know that none of this was his fault, that he’d done nothing wrong other than meet me.

I couldn’t leave him like that. He deserved so much better than me, but that was all that I had. So, I climbed down next to him, reaching out to him and hoping that he would hold me back.

To my surprise, he did. His hands grabbed mine like they were a lifeline, bringing them to his lips wet with tears. And although he was silent, I could hear the way he prayed that they wouldn’t fade away from him again.

“I-I… I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell you. I’m supposed to be the adult here, I’m supposed to know how to fix these things, but I have no idea what I’m doing, (y/n).”

It was an admission Spencer didn’t often make. The complete helplessness and inability to fix the puzzle before him didn’t just hurt because it was painful to watch, it was also just another reminder of his limits.

One time he had promised me that he wouldn’t let anything hurt me. I should have told him that it was a stupid promise to make then. I should have showed him the skeletons in my closet and the mess in my hands.

But it didn’t matter anymore. He had already seen it, and it was too late. I’d made too many mistakes, and I had to face them. I couldn’t run away anymore. That meant listening to Spencer, pouring his heart out to me and clutching my hands like they would turn to nothing in front of him.

“You’re falling apart and you won’t talk to me. I don’t know how to make this stop hurting. I don’t know how to help you. Sometimes you’re so happy but other times I can see it in your eyes…”

Our eyes met, unguarded, for the first time in what felt like hours but was actually probably only a few minutes. We looked into each other’s eyes and tried to read each other’s minds. I didn’t know what he saw, but I heard the way it struck him.

“Do you… Do you want to leave me?” he asked.

And I realized then, that was what my behavior was leading up to. That was what my mind was racing towards, without ever considering whether it was what was best for me. Because I wasn’t thinking about what was best for me, or what I wanted, or what I should want. All I cared about was the same concern Spencer had for me— I didn’t want him to throw his life away just to be with me.

“Is that what you want?” I asked.

Spencer heard something in my question that brought life back to his eyes. I wished that I could hear his thoughts because he always seemed so much farther ahead. Like he could see the immediate future and knew what would follow.

Then again, maybe I was just idealizing him. I had a tendency to do that. He wasn’t a superhero. He was just a man, trying his best in a world that never really let him rest. I certainly didn’t help with that.

“No. No, that’s not what I want at all,” he said, his hands finding the courage to let go of mine and slide up my arms. He cupped my face with such an urgency and relief that it almost felt the same as before I had uttered those terrifying words. “I told you I want to marry you and I wasn’t kidding.”

It only took a few words for any progress and vulnerability to be obliterated. Four words. That’s all it took.

I want to marry you.

A white picket fence is what I’d promised him. I'd painted a vivid image of us with two children that were just like him. A normal, domestic life is what I’d said.

I hadn't known. I'd made a mistake. I had lied.

“Stop fucking saying that!” I wished the fight would leave my body and let my weary muscles rest, but it kept coming back. Sure as the sun rises in the morning, I couldn’t let go of the hatred. It had to go somewhere, and Spencer continued to be the stupid, stubborn man putting himself in front of me without any defenses.

I don’t think he was expecting that, though. He jumped back at the sound, his hands bracing his fall as I flailed to get away from him. I didn’t have the energy or coordination to stand, so I just let myself fall to pieces on the floor in front of him.

“Stop telling me about this future you have planned for us b-because I’m a useless, idiotic fuck up, and it’s freaking me the fuck out!”

Naturally, the only thing that could incense Spencer more than violating his trust was, apparently, talking badly about myself. Because as soon as he heard the words, he was wound up just the same.

“What are you so afraid of?!”

Without thinking about the words, implications, or consequences, I gave him the answer he fought for. I gave it to him because I couldn’t hold it any longer. I gave it to him and hoped that it would grant me the closure he sought, too.

“That I won’t ever be able to give you a baby and you’re going to fucking leave me!”

Spencer, in all his shock and disbelief, could only utter back a single, exasperated, “…What?” The way the word fell out of his mouth almost sounded like a laugh, the side of his lips curling into an almost imperceptible smile.

“I’m scared that when I stop being useful to you, you’re going to leave me like everyone else,” I explained, my voice as small as I felt in that moment.

But Spencer, in his uncanny ability to predict the future, was trying not to smile. Don’t get me wrong — he wasn’t laughing at me, and the words certainly brought him no joy. But there was something else buried beneath the suffering.

“Come here,” he requested with a sad, small grin and a wave of his hand. When he saw the hesitance on my face, he beckoned me closer again with more feeling. “I want to talk to you. Come here.”

So I came. I came as close to him as I could. And as I practically sat in his lap, I remembered how much easier it was to breathe when he held me, and how much lighter the tears felt when he wiped them a way.

“Why do you think I’m going to leave you?” he asked through a chuckle, like the very notion was so unbelievable that it couldn’t be uttered as anything other than a joke.

“Y-You want kids,” I mumbled, looking down at our t-shirts wet with tears. I played with the hem of his to remind myself that we were both still there. And although Spencer sympathized, he didn’t seem too keen on me looking away at that particular moment. With a gentle finger under my chin, he guided my eyes back to his.

“Okay. So do you, right?”

“Well, yeah…” I paused and pursed my lips and bit down on the bottom one. I waited until he raised his eyebrows in a challenge before I explained. “But what if I can’t have any?”

Spencer’s face scrunched up with his shoulders in a dismissive shrug, “There are other ways to have kids. I’m not worried about that at all.”

Just like that, he’d waved away my fears of inadequacy and failure like they were smoke from an already snuffed out candle. He made it so clear so quickly that biology wasn’t the thing that mattered. That it wasn’t my genetics or physical traits that made him want to share a literal life with me.

Spencer didn’t need me to have his children; he just wanted me to raise some with him.

“Why are you worried about that? Did something happen?” he pressed forward, unsatisfied with the idea that I might still be carrying some heaviness without his assistance.

“The doctor told me that I might not ever be able to have my own kids and I just...”

I should have known better than to doubt the insistence of his greedy hands. They would never let a burden belong solely to me. And I… didn’t want to bear the weight alone anymore, either. The dam was broken, and my heart came rushing out into his waiting arms.

“I’m so tired of it, Spencer. I’m tired of this stupid shit stealing my life away from me. You’ve been taking care of me for months, a-and the way you look at me sometimes-- I can see it on your face. I can feel the way it hurts you just to look at me.”

That hurt flashed in his eyes right then but faded with a swiftness I hadn’t seen in a long time. He didn’t want me to see it yet. One fight at a time, I heard him think. When this shifted load balanced between us again, we could figure the rest out.

First, we had to settle this. It had to end.

“If I can’t give you children, and I can’t... I can’t make you happy then—“

“Stop,” he demanded, his finger coming up to cover my lips. There was no argument to be made at his protest. With a deathly seriousness veiled with bowed brows and a lip that still trembled, Spencer whispered to me, “You can feel however you want to, but you don’t get to decide how I feel.”

Tears welled in both of our eyes, threatening to fall with the other. But they didn’t, they stayed pooled at our lashes and drowned us in visions of haloed lights and blurry reflections.

“I am so happy with you. No matter what. Every second of every day. Do you understand me?”

The only answer I had the strength to give was my surrender. Collapsing forward into his arms, I buried my face into his shoulder. I reveled in the warmth of his chest and the strength of his hands on my back. I felt his heartbeat against my cheek as the deep, joyful breaths he took in came out as relieved laughter.

“I love you, (y/n).”

He must have heard, or at least felt, my soft groan in response, because he peeled me off of him with a smirk. “What’s wrong now?” he asked in an equally tired whine.

“You only use my name when you’re angry or sad,” I grumbled through a pout. It only felt a little silly, to joke about something so stupid minutes after screaming our hearts at each other. We were just so tired, and the finish line was in sight. We just wanted to cross it together, and preferably with less tears involved.

Spencer didn’t say any of that, but I felt it, nonetheless. It was clear in the way he pushed my hair from my face before running his fingers down my jaw. “I use your name when I’m worried,” he corrected. “And you scared me tonight. I’m sorry that you’ve been feeling this way.”

We were toeing the line back into heavy emotions, and I shook my head to ask him not to take me back there tonight. But I couldn’t blame him at the same time. He’d so gracefully handled all of my fears and rage; he deserved a chance to voice his own. They’d fallen so far behind in the race towards the truth.

“I understand you were scared to tell me, but...” he stopped, trying to find a way to explain it without hurting my feelings. He really was too nice to me.

“I know. It was stupid. I feel terrible,” I finished for him. Once my face hit his shoulder again, I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry, Spencer,” I said with almost all of the energy I had left. He stroked soothing patterns over my back, and after a moment I realized that we’d started to rock. I wasn’t sure if it was for his benefit or mine.

“I appreciate your apology, but please promise me that you’ll talk to someone about this,” he humbly requested, his words muffled in my hair.

“Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?”

It was almost a joke. Spencer wasn’t going to let it go, though. “Don’t try to be clever with me, little girl. I need you to talk to someone who knows how to help you,” he playfully scolded.

Through a yawn and a chuckle, I pressed on in my attempt to end the night on a horrible joke. “Isn’t that your whole job?”

“Yeah, I guess it is sometimes, huh?” he agreed halfheartedly. Really, he was only trying to give me a little bit of a win. We both knew his job wasn’t very good at helping people before the fact. It was just another poor attempt at avoiding healing. I had been holding on to that anger so tightly that there wasn’t room for us in the space that was left.

“But I think you also know I can’t be that person for you,” Spencer eloquently said, cradling my head as it started to rock with each motion.

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed, “I promise.”

I’m not sure how long we stayed like that, but no matter what, it wouldn’t have lasted long enough. The rhythm of his heart evened out over time, settling into the lullaby I needed to finally find some rest. But realistically, we couldn’t sleep there. Spencer was kind enough to practically carry me back into the bed we had shared when this all started, although this time he laid beside me.

From there, he helped tuck me in and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. My eyes were closed, but the smile that spread over my cheeks was enough of a signal that I was still awake.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

My bloodshot eyes opened at his call, and I found love staring back at me. I knew he could see my eyes bouncing back and forth as I tried to see all of it at once in his eyes, and I didn’t care. Even when he kissed me, neither of us closed them.

“We don’t have to worry about anything,” he said as our mouths broke apart. His thumb swept over my cheeks to all the places I knew he was thinking about kissing. There was a very poor attempt to hide his smile at the thought of the future, but I appreciated the effort he put in.

“When you’re ready to try to have kids, I’ll be right there with you,” he said.

It was clear that Spencer really wanted it to be a meaningful sentiment, but I was still a little bitter at his failure to laugh at my previous terrible jokes. So when I saw the opportunity, I took it swiftly and with no regrets.

“I sure hope so, or else I don’t think it’ll work,” I muttered through the side of my mouth before turning onto my back.

Spencer’s first carefree giggle of the night was my prize, and I couldn’t have loved it any more. “That’s my little girl,” he cooed, curling up against my side and wrapping a possessive arm over my chest.

Just before my eyes fluttered shut, I saw movement below my face. I kept them open long enough to see his pinky presented to me and a knowing look in his eyes. “Everything will be alright as long as we have each other,” Spencer offered.

And despite our bad history with promises, I had no reasons left to doubt that one.

—————————————————

| Part 21 |

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid series #h2m #spencer reid self insert #angst #smut

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is-nini · 3 years

Text

Genshin impact x reader

Episode: 3

Title: really innocent??

A/n: SORRY THIS TOOK A LONG TIME- I'm sorry for any mistake and also, please enjoy! possible love interest for now will be : Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Zhongli, Childe, Xiao, Beidou, Ningguang.

Jean and the purple dressed girl looks at each other it's as if they're talking about something but with no words being spoken.

"ah yes.. uhm- you will meet a certain knight.. please wait for a while".

the acting grand master that you now know names Jean is opening the door to the outside office alongside the purple dressed woman.

once Jean and Lisa was outside, they took a glance at you, making sure you didn't follow or eavesdrop on them.

“she.. passed our test..? is it enough to prove her innocence?”

Lisa shakes her head and goes into a thinking position. you did pass the test.. you genuinely doesn't seem to know this place even if you did.. damn you make a good actress.

“no.. we still need more proof-”

Lisa stopped midway her words when suddenly Aether comes in along side paimon.

“hello, cutie”.

Lisa suddenly change the subject and greets Aether, and starts discussing about the new.. unknown girl from nowhere. Aether crunch his eyebrow, another traveler? is she perhaps like.. me? Aether is exited to see you. you're from nowhere you have a possibility to know his twin sisters information.

you waited for about 2 or 3 minutes who knows, being left alone in the room is not really fun. your ears perked up when you heard a footsteps coming from outside. the door opened and it reveals a man with a flying thingy.. the mc and the companion. paimon.

“this is the hononary knight that we wanted you to meet”

The mc, that you know the name "Aether" is Infront of you, his eyes is glimmering with slight hope. A hope that you might know his sister..

Well you don't.

Not really, you haven't gone THAT far, all you've been doing is just leveling up and be stronger. Oh well. You silently said in your head. What can you do? You being here already ruin the whole story. You smile at the boy and wave your arm a little bit.

"Hello, nice to meet you".

Aether greets you and you greets him back with a wave and a 'hello'. Jean smile softly but worriedly at Aether.

"uhm.. Aether can you bring y/n around Mondstat? She.. is new here".

Jean has calculated everything, Lisa has cast a couple of spell to check you, Kaeya has met you and he doesn't seem to hate you or find anything suspicious from you. And with that in mind, jean no longer hesitate. She is sure that even if you did something weird as long as it's not threatening you'll be fine.

And so!!! Your adventure with Aether and paimon starts from today.

Stepping outside of the room is a huge relief- well not really, some of the guards are stating at you. You maybe new but you're not blind.. you can see or rather feel their eyes on you.

"so.. y/n right? Paimon was wondering.. how did you get here?".

Ah yes there you go the question that even you don't know.

"uhm.. honestly i Don't remember.. i told you that when i woke up i am in the hospital room with barbara.. and the rest is history. I also don't know how or why i am wearing the Mondstat dress".

Paimon looks at you weirdly and Aether is just staring at you, it seems like he wanna ask something so you flash a smile at him, reassuring him that it's okay to ask questions.

" are you a traveler like me?"

You of course, shake your head. Aether and you are different, he travels by his will and you travel not by your will.

"I'm not a traveler, i didn't go from one word to another.. but thankyou for asking".

Aether's eyes widen for a little. Maybe you're not as clueless ass you seem. Just by answering his question you already give away little bits of your secret. Aether is SURE you're hiding something.. what he's not sure about is are you a friend or a enemy. Aether took a glance at paimon, of course she just nods her head and went to talk random stuff to you.

Aether never mentioned about traveling one world to another.. yet you seems to know about that without him needing to explain.

Without realizing Aether stopped and thing, spacing out, causing you and paimon to look at him worriedly.

"are you okay?"

You asked the boy, he quickly looks at you and nods his head yes. You shrugs your shoulder thinking that maybe it's just hot and he wanted to rest.

Aether show's you around Mondstat. You meet alot of great and nice people like Glory and Ellin even Hertha. But one person catches your eye.

"so y/n this is Katheryne. Katheryne, this is y/n".

Your eyes widen. What is she doing here?! She's the one who gave you that disc that started all this- not that you're complaining but this is against your will-.

"uhm... Y/n?".

Paimon called your name. You snapped out of your imagination and looked at the worried Paimon, Aether and Katheryne.

"u-uhm... What did i miss.. hehe?"

You asked them. Aether pats your back and you sweatdrop, whoops.. luckily you don't think out loud... That would be.. ahem.. awkward.

"katheryne says hello to you".

Katheryne giggle and wave at you, you laugh awkwardly and greets her back.

"h-hi..."

Katheryne nods and proceed to talk with Aether and Paimon about the new quest that they're getting.

"are you perhaps going to show y/n around Mondstat?".

Aether nod and Paimon say yes, you are just going with the flow, nodding your head when you can so that they'll know, you're still paying attention.

"great! Some one from Liyue has a wine request for master Diluc. They said that it would be great if you can send their request in person to master Diluc".

Send their request in person??? Why would they need Aether to send their request in person..? That's interesting. Aether accept the quest anyway, it's not that big of a problem. Aether turns to look at you.

"well we are going to the bar next.. and maybe if you're lucky you can meet master Diluc on your first day here".

Lucky? Why would you be lucky, you follow them anyway to meet this master Diluc.

"hah.... Diluc~".

Wait- what who said- you look around and saw a girl with short hair thats bunch up into a low ponytail. The girl seems to notice you staring at her, she seems surprised and quickly covers her face.

"that is Donna. She knows alot about romance".

Paimon went beside you and whisper.

"she also has a crush on master Diluc".

That clicked and you goes 'O' you nod your head at Paimon, Aether looks at Paimon and face palm, which makes you giggle.

"ah! Hello mr Aether! Ouuuuu??? Hello miss pretty".

A little girl behind a row of flower greets Aether and you. Wait did she just call me pretty? Ah .. you don't wanna be too confident so you greets her to she what she say.

"hello there! my name is y/n, what’s yours?”

the girl smile sweetly at you as she started to introduce herself.

“my name is flora! nice to meet you miss pretty!”.

w-what miss pretty? your face turns into a shade of red, Paimon tease you about you being miss pretty, Aether’s face went a little red but he quickly just laughs and smile softly at the both of your antics.

“okay okay, it’s time to move on guys. let’s go to the bar”.

Aether pull you and Paimon away from each other, you guys said your goodbye to flora as you both part way. you're kind of exited to meet this Diluc guy.. what will he look like? is he nice? is he powerful? without you realizing it, you're finally in front of the bar. you opened the door and take a peak inside, while Aether just walks in.

“hello master Diluc, were so lucky meeting you here right now!”.

a handsome man with red hair and a very dark like clothes looks up at Paimon and Aether, sensing a new face he turn his gaze to you.

“and... i assume you're showing this lady around?”

wow... calling you lady... fancy. he also looks.. hot.. and fancy wait- come on y/n! stop going out of the main topic!

“whoa! how does master Diluc know that were showing y/n around?”.

Paimon asked, master Diluc fixes his gloves and looks at Paimon with little to no interest.

“words travels quickly, especially if its about a girl out of nowhere that so happen uses the Mondstat dress”

he now turn his gaze on you. you're not even surprised if he is suspicious by you, people are giving you a suspicious glances except for that nice flora girl. you stare at him back and sigh, you cant really complain can you? its not their fault anyway

“Right.. nice to meet you master Diluc”.

you bow your head a little at him. he nods back and turn his attention else where, seemingly uninterested. Diluc makes a conversation with Aether about something, Aether and Paimon seems.. a little hesitant, you keep looking around the bar anyway, youre not incluedid in the conversation then you should not intervine. Paimon and Aether goes towards you.

“so...uhm.. y/n.. we will be going first”

Paimon said, kind of awkwardly, you look at them, confused, why are they leaving you now? you thought that they're gonna show you around? what happen to that? A hand suddenly reach out to your shoulder, making you freeze up.

"I'll take care of you from now on"

And with that your fate has been decided, you'll be with Master Diluc for the rest of the day... Until who knows when.

Taglist:

@laic2299 @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @dreaminselfinserts

#diluc x you #genshin fanfiction #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin diluc #diluc x y/n #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin albedo #albedo x reader #albedo x y/n #albedo x you #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 03

(Masterpost)(Previous Episode)

Warning: Spoilers for all 50 episodes!

Wei Wuxian demonstrates the purple nurple technique of the Jiang Clan

Should’ve Used Trivago

The Jiang Clan’s reservation got cancelled while they were on the road, so they are going to wander around this small inn for hours being fussed about it, rather than trying another inn. Yes they say the other inns are all full but…so is this one, now.

The Jin Clan sends an advance party to fancy up the inn for them.

Fuckboi Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian decides to use his considerable powers of prettiness to get them a room. He drops some poetry on Mianmian and brazenly flirts with her before shifting to properly introducing himself and asking for a room.

This actually works.

...until her boss shows up.

(Much much more after the cut!)

Worst Person // Best Jin

Jin ZIxuan is an ass and a snob.

I guess we have to give him credit for having a beautiful sidekick and never hitting on her, given that his dad is a rapist and one of his half-brothers is (reputedly) a sex pest and the other half brother is (definitely) an incest perp. But I feel like it doesn’t take much to be the best Jin of his or his father’s generation.

The Jin folks are snobs and talk about how great their fancy and expensive stuff is. It’s an interesting contrast with true connoisseur Nie Huaisang, who loves everything that is fine and beautiful and can quote stacks of poetry off the top of his head, but is not even a little bit of a snob.

This Tea Smells Like Farts

Ok, let’s talk about generation names in the Jin clan. Ru is the name for Jin Ling’s generation, hence his courtesy name Rulan. The name for the current generation is apparently Zi (子), because both Zixuan and his jerk cousin Zixun have that as their name. Sect Leader Jin Guangshan would seem to be using the generation name Guang, but then names his son Jin Guangyao so…the whole system breaks down.

Anyway, my point here is that even considering generation names, if I had a baby and named it Zixuan, and my sister-in-law promptly had a baby and named it Zixun, I would slap her.

Find you a lover who does not make you feel like this

Jin Zixuan is mildly intrigued by his betrothed, and expresses it by being rude to her in front of Wei Wuxian, starting a chain of events that will culminate with Wen Ning’s fist going all the way through Jin Zixuan’s chest.

Side Note: Look at these young Jiang Brothers and their casual shoulder hugs. Sigh.

Wei Wuxian’s Combat PlayBook

When Wei Wuxian wants to throw down, he starts with smack talk, moves along to boundary crossing, then to direct threats, and then brings out a weapon if he hasn’t won already.

Here he starts shit with Jin Zixuan by complaining at him for taking up too much space and having too many sycophants. Then he goes for the unwelcome shoulder touch.

Having been sufficiently provocative to get someone to draw a sword and threaten him with physical violence, he shifts to formal verbal sparring.

This gets the other guy to back down, because even at this age no-one actually wants to tangle with Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian gets to claim the moral advantage, although he still doesn’t get to keep his hotel room.

Actually Not A Fan of My Sister’s Betrothal

Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli have the first of many, many moments of heterosexual ineptitude together. Wei Wuxian quickly rescues them.

Hi, I’m Young Master Cockblock.

Neither of the boys understands what Yanli sees in Zixuan and neither do I, at this juncture. He does improve later after multiple beatings from Wei Wuxian.

This Is The Day Your Life Will Surely Change

Yanli’s encounter in the Inn is the first step toward the inexorable end of the three of them as a unit, although it’s still a long ways off. They are all growing up and she and Wei Wuxian are both going to fall in love at summer camp, like in a 1980s teen movie but without the virginity betting (presumably).

Meanwhile poor Jiang Cheng is going to be swept along just trying to keep up with events, which becomes the story of his life for the next two decades.

Welcome to Transylvania

We meet Wen Ruohan. He is boring and he sucks. Also I’m summarizing the Transylvania parts out of order because they break up the rhythm of the story. And are boring and suck.

We meet Xue Yang. He seems nice.

Wen Ruohan’s living room is like a shitty nightclub where everyone is too drunk to dance except Xue Yang.

Dee Jay: Undead undead undead, Bela Lugosi’s dead

[OP can’t get a video to embed in this post with looping enabled, so the alternate version of this joke has its own post right here. That will teach OP to get fancy.]

Anyhoo

We meet Wen Qing. She is the bestest most wonderful girl in the world but this isn’t actually when we find that out.

Right now we just find out that she is absurdly pretty, that she loves her brother deeply, and that she is helping Wen Ruohan with his “take over the world by murdering cultivators” project. OKAY, PROBLEMATIC, BUT SHE IS THE BESTEST GIRL OKAY?

Gatekeeping

The Jiang Clan don’t get another inn but they do manage to change into immaculate white robes while they’re out on the street, so - nice work, Jiang Clan. Be free!

They get stuck outside the gate because they don’t know that the secret to getting into Cloud Recesses is to set the gate guard on fire.

Walking Thirst Trap Hanguang-Jun

Lan Wangji shows up and everyone except Yanli, who is already in love with Sir Golden Pants, makes thirst faces at him. Including Jiang Cheng tho he will never admit it. One girl in the background is actually biting her knuckle.

Note: Lan Wangji knows exactly how fine he is. Look at his fucking hairstyle.

He is sixteen years old. The only person in the entire cultivation world with fancier hair is Nie Mingjue, and that’s because he indulges his dìdi’s braiding hobby.

Wei Wuxian loudly stage whispers that LWJ is their key to getting in and LWJ is is like, not fucking likely, person I didn’t glance at yet.

But then Wei Wuxian says a smart cultivator thing about the puppet dude, and Lan Wangji turns around and has the first of many long mutual staring sessions with this boy he totally isn’t going to like at all.

Jiang Cheng has a bad feeling about the future: a 2-frame gif

Unrelated gardening note: the red-crack puppet is more commonly grown in Gusu and Dafan, while the black-line puppet is native to Yiling

I Must Arrange a Date with this Uninteresting Boy

The rest of the evening is a series of tests that Lan Wangji puts Wei Wuxian through. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know this and Lan Wangji probably doesn’t exactly know it either.

First he sends WWX back to town to get the invitation. Yes, go get it. Not your entourage; YOU, talky person who thinks he can manipulate me and is smart and looks...intriguing. Go find it and come back.

When Wei Wuxian complains, Lan Wangji silences him, which is literally the most boss move he could have used on smooth talking Wei Wuxian.

You tried, Fuckboi.

Would you like to try some more because I think I would like you to try some more

Jiang Cheng is the Better Baby Brother

Sorry, he just is. Wei Wuxian is all about being taken care of and adoring Yanli without actually doing much for her. Jiang Cheng is the one who thinks about her feelings and giving her what she needs, even to the point of arranging that wedding rehearsal dinner so she can be with her favorite brother again -- the favorite who isn’t him, much as she also loves him.

Date Test 1: Can You Get In.

Once Wei Wuxian is definitely gone, Lan Wangji shows up again and collects the entire retinue, guaranteeing that Wei Wuxian will be stranded outside the gate when he gets back. LWJ doesn’t wait by the gate; he goes and waits up on the roof instead of going to bed or whatever else he’s supposed to be doing. Because he already knows the route Wei Wuxian will be taking.

Wei Wuxian passes the “get in through the wards” test with no problem besides a minor headache and bent fingers.

Is that Xiao Zhan’s hand or did they use a double-jointed hand model?

Date Test 2: Fight Me (Lan Wangji’s Combat Playbook)

As soon as Wei Wuxian shows up on the roof, Lan Wangji picks a fight with him.

LWJ fights all the time; he’s perfectly comfortable when he’s fighting and it’s a good venue for him to express himself. His style is graceful and aggressive.

Attack attack attack strike a pose, vogue, you know it.

He starts by going all in on swordplay, but that doesn’t gain him the advantage; Wei Wuxian fends him off without ever drawing his sword. Which is probably the hottest thing that has ever happened to Lan Wangji in his young life.

Do you like me better when I’m horizontal?

Next Lan Wangji deploys the pettiness by breaking WWX’s wine. Then when Wei Wuxian starts insulting him he upgrades to next level pettiness by dropping another silence spell, this time with the added bonus of preventing WWX from drinking.

Wei Wuxian’s Combat Playbook, Redux

Meanwhile Wei Wuxian is running his own fight routine, starting with a charm attack, which doesn’t work at all.

Are you admiring the moon?

He keeps trying to de-escalate for the first phase of their fight, until they reach a pause and he reflects that Lan Wangji has real skills. As soon as he makes that determination he goes on the offensive - with words.

He very formally says he’s too busy to continue fighting, and turns away, which is a pretty solid roast when you say it to someone who’s been trying really hard to kick your ass. Then he continues defending easily until Lan Wangji uses the wine against him.

At this point the gloves come off, with Lan Wangji lecturing Wei Wuxian, Wei Wuxian making ad hominem attacks, Lan Wangji forcibly shutting him up...

...and then throwing him on the floor in front of Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen.

Sincere Grief for the Death of our Colleague

Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen feel really bad for their disciple who has been horribly turned into an undead creature. Ha ha j/k

Date Test 3: Face the Authorities

Lan Wangji gets to pick Wei Wuxian’s punishment. This probably won’t awaken anything in him.

Surprise surprise, Wei Wuxian actually passes the Authority test with flying colors. Lan Qiren doesn’t like him, but listens respectfully to his thoughts about the undead cultivator. And Lan Xichen clearly does like him.

When Wei Wuxian learns that Lan Wangji was nice to his sister, his entire demeanor changes, to such an enormous degree that Lan Wangji starts to run away.

He’s not going to let this boy (who has passed all the tests oh no he passed all the tests) make out with him in front of his family like he is obviously planning.

But once again, Wei Wuxian’s cultivation knowledge captures Lan Wangji’s attention and breaks through his reserve.

This Hardy Boys moment is the beginning of their cultivation partnership.

Lan Wangji is brave but is extremely constrained: by the authorities in his life and by his own rigid reserve. Wei Wuxian is brave and is also free. His companionship gives Lan Wangji an opportunity to engage with a much broader range of the things that interest him than he’s ever had before.

After Wei Wuxian has been sent to bed, Lan Wangji stands outside and -- just as WWX had suggested at the beginning of their date/fight -- admires the moon, with an expression that’s anything but upset.

Sure, sex is cool (probably), but have you ever analyzed a walking corpse with a beautiful boy in the moonlight?

If you’ve got your true honey Life can be pretty funny If you've got money, money to burn Rooty toot toot for the moon It's the biggest star I've ever seen

The Fine-as-Hell Brothers

Alone together, Lans Xichen and Wangji talk over the various things on their minds.

Xichen: What the fuck is up with you? ...Rooftop fights and dropping spells on boys?

Wangji: You and uncle were ignoring me so I was making my own fun

Xichen: Yeah, we are dealing with this zombie situation; shit’s going to hit the fan

Wangji: what are you going to do about it?

Xichen: fuck-all

Wangji: Well, you can rely on me

Xichen: I totally do. So how about you get to know this Wei kid, he seems like a fun ride.

Wangji: *death glare*

Xichen: You know, since Dad died you’ve become even more uptight. I wonder if I’ve been too strict with you?

Wangji: Um, you think? 3000 fucking rules, dude. Fortunately I’m not going to go off the rails and fall in love with my polar opposite and cause havoc in the cultivation world or anything like that.

Xichen: good, me neither

Outtro

Writing prompt: Lan Xichen’s secret nightly letter to his Mom’s memory or spirit (your choice), in which he confides in her about his day. May be written in flute solo form.

(As always if you use this prompt feel free to post a link to your fic in comments!)

Soundtrack: 1. This Is The Day by The The 2. Bela Lugosi’s Dead by Bauhaus 3. Rooty Toot Toot for the Moon, Greg Brown version 4. Madonna, Vogue

Bonus: FineAsHell-Jun

Episode 04 Restless Rewatch coming soon!

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years

Text

Raise the Stakes, Part 8

I swear, I will wind this one up in the not-too-distant future but I keep kind of thinking of different things to do with it. Bad writer, bad. Finish your work!

You can find the previous bits of the story:

Place Your Bets

Part one two three four five six seven

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC (referenced Jay White x OFC)

Word count: 3,824

Content advisory: graphic sexual content, cursing

You feel like an idiot for actually believing that he was going to talk to you the next day, or that he was going to do anything other than ignore you the way he has since your arrival. If anything, he’s ignoring you harder than ever, or at least taking greater pains to be anywhere around you. If you see him, he’s always moving and with others. The wall between you is so thick you start gaslighting yourself, wondering if you imagined the tryst in your car.

The whole company is buzzing. It’s the last few days before the big Slammiversary show, the peak of their year. The excitement for the show and for finally having a small audience is mingled with the knowledge that every year, there are some surprises. THe bigwigs play their cards close to their chests, which means that the talent and behind the scenes people, yourself very much included, don’t know who could pop out at any moment. New Japan has been frustratingly tight-lipped. It’s supposed to be your job to bridge the gaps between New Japan and Impact but no one will tell you who might be trying to cross those bridges.

Is Nagata coming back? You’ll find out.

Another appearance by Phantasmo? Wait and see.

Tama and Tanga are mouthing off at the Good Brothers all the time on social media. Are they showing up?

It’s like shouting at a wall.

Finlay and Robinson are there, they tell you. Take care of them.

It’s almost more frustrating to hear that because, of course, you’d like to do that but one of them is very determined not to let that happen.

By Thursday afternoon, you’ve done everything you can.

“Take a day off,” Scott Damore, the man tasked with keeping this little beehive running tells you. “Go home and relax. You’ll want to be rested for Saturday.”

You want to tell him there’s no need for you to leave now but your aching back, neck, and head disagree.

“What time do you need me here Saturday?”

“Morning?” He looks surprised. “Just come in an hour or so before the show.”

“But what do you need me to do?”

“Sit in the audience, cheer at the right points, look excited if the camera passes you.”

“That’s it?”

“There’s nothing that needs to be liaised in the middle of a show. Grab a seat, have some fun. Be a fan for a few hours.”

You laugh a little because you can’t remember the last time you were able to just be a fan.

“You do like wrestling, don’t you?”

“I do,” you chuckle. “I just don’t really have the opportunity to indulge that very often.”

“So go home, have a nice dinner and a glass of wine. Do whatever it takes to get rid of that headache that I can see right through your skull. Spend the day in your pajamas playing videogames with teenagers online.”

You rise slowly, thanking him as you move to go.

“Hey,” he calls softly, “you’re doing a great job. Don’t think they’re not going to hear about it in Tokyo.”

It’s such a sweet note to leave on that you’re most of the way home, or to the temporary rental that’s passing for home right now, before you think about the fact that you haven’t laid eyes on David all day. He’s been around, because if he hadn’t been, you’re the one who would have had to field questions about it. But he’s been invisible to you.

You end up taking Scott’s suggestions very much to heart. You order dinner from the Chinese place you’ve become addicted to, watch early episodes of The Walking Dead, and have a couple of drinks until you can feel a warm blanket of sleepiness wrapping itself around you.

And that’s when your doorbell rings.

You grab your phone, although there’s a large part of you that wants to ignore it because it’s a little unnervingly late to be getting callers. But you pick it up just on that off chance, because there’s that sliver of hope that it’s…

“It’s David.” He sounds tired and grumpy but you don’t even care because he’s there, at your door and it makes your heart race. You buzz him in and then just stand in front of your apartment door like a complete idiot until you hear him knock.

As soon as you open the door, though, your heart sinks.

“Seriously?” he snaps, holding your panties up for anyone to see.

“How long does it take you to go through your damn pockets,” you hiss, trying to hide how close you are to crying.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You want me to get a restraining order?”

“I’m sorry,” you croak. “I know it was stupid, I just thought maybe if I left you a little reminder that… I don’t know. I thought that if I could get you back once…”

“You did not get me back. I’ve been lonely and I had a weak moment. And even then I couldn’t bring myself to fuck you.”

“Fine. I misinterpreted and thought it was me you wanted. Happy to have given you a show and a nice warm surface to rub one out.”

He throws your panties on the floor without another word. Now you have a problem. You know perfectly well that the second you let him out of your sight, he’s going to disappear. But the door to your apartment is going to lock automatically if it closes unless you step back inside and adjust it. So if you want to avoid giving him the chance to run away, you have to find a way to reach your discarded panties without allowing the door to close behind you.

Awkwardly, you bend forward but it’s immediately obvious that the offending garment is still out of reach. You try looking at him but he seems amused by your predicament. So you have to get right down on your knees and stretch, all while keeping your foot on the door, which weighs a ton. You’ve never felt less elegant in your life, nor more ridiculous than when you glare up at him. His expression is scornful and amused, but there’s a hint of something else you can see in his eyes. There you are, the bitch who he believes used him, the one who’s been begging for his attention, now on her knees in the most humiliating position.

You grab the scrap of fabric and scramble into a standing position before starting to speak. Unfortunately, you move enough that your foot slips from the door. You flinch as you hear the heavy thud.

“Fuck!” he yelps, loud enough you think the neighbors will show up.

It takes a second for you to register that he stuck his hand up to stop the door from closing and that the full weight of it crashed onto his fingers.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” It’s like every time he gets near you, something awful happens to him.

You push the door open and take his hand, trying to see if there’s any damage. He’s obviously irritated and tries to pull it back but it occurs to you that this could be serious.

“Come on, you have to at least let me put some ice on that.”

“No.”

“You have to. If it swells up, your hand could be screwed up for Saturday.”

He looks positively disgusted as it dawns on him that you’re right but he lets you lead him gently into your apartment.

You take out your ice tray and wrap a few cubes in the dish towel, pressing it softly against his hand. He swats you away and holds the makeshift ice pack himself. There’s a little grunted sound that might be a thank you.

“What even happened?”

“I thought the door was going to lock if it closed, I just tried to stop it. Don’t know why I did that.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, guilt soaking your voice. “I would have been locked out.”

“Boohoo.”

“I’m really sorry about the panties, I just-”

“You’re just a disaster area and I need to stay the fuck away from you. I should have just thrown your little present in your face at the show.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t.”

“I’m going to wait a few minutes until I’m sure my hand is ok. I would really appreciate it if you would just not speak for the rest of the time I’m here.”

The look on his face is so pained, so defeated, that you just nod and look at the floor. But you can’t hold it in. The insanity of the situation you’ve put yourself in and the feeling of having him close enough to touch while also being so remote burns through your insides like a wildfire and you just… break.

You let one loud yelp out and then it’s nothing but tears and loud sobbing. He immediately looks up at you and although your vision is blurred, his expression isn’t unsympathetic but that just makes it worse and you cry harder as you try to speak.

“You’re right, you should stay away from me… I thought that if I came here… I thought that if you knew I left him… that I left him for you…”

Your voice breaks up and you have to wipe your face just to keep yourself focused.

“I didn’t think about how bad I am… for you… for whatever… I just wanted…”

You break down in sobs again and you’re just about to go and hide on the balcony until he leaves when it happens. A miracle. He lays the towel on the counter and walks towards you. Even through your tears, you can see that his expression is much softer and that allows you to hold it together until he lays his hands on your shoulders and pulls you just a little closer.

At that point, once again, you lose it, the memory of how that touch felt back before you’d made a mess of everything. He presses you close to his chest, which amplifies the feeling and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, cupping your face with his hand.

You open your eyes a little and he makes a face.

“You’re a mess.”

“I know,” you blurt. “I don’t know why I do the shit I do, it’s just-”

“No, I mean your face… there’s mascara stuff happening. It looks like an oil spill.”

Despite yourself, you laugh, holding back the tears as he uses his sleeve to wipe your face.

“Your hands are freezing.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have another pair with me. Besides, it helps with swelling, remember?”

You laugh a little again, trembling when he holds your face in his hands. For the first time in ages, he doesn’t have any of that vicious resentment in his eyes. It’s almost like the way he looked at you that day you had breakfast in the cafe, just sadder.

He looks at you that way for what feels like a long time, allowing you to regain control of yourself.

“You have really cute ears.”

“Wh- what?”

He smiles. “Your ears. They’re so cute, you have no idea. You always have your hair pulled back or up and I just remember noticing at one point. I’d smile about it all the time when you weren’t looking.”

“How do ears… be cute?” You can’t imagine what he’s talking about and yet the weirdness of the compliment makes it wonderful.

“Come here.” He takes you by the wrist and leads you into the bathroom. He positions you in front of the mirror, standing behind you and pulling you back against his chest. He takes your jaw in his hand and gently turns your head so that you can see the side of your face and your apparently adorable ear.

“You see,” he explains, running his thumb delicately along the outer ridge, “it’s kind of big and round up here, and then it tapers right off into this perfectly proportional little lobe and it looks like a half a heart. So they look like two halves of a heart. I can’t believe you’ve never noticed this before.”

He laughs softly and presses his face against yours, the scrape of his beard on your skin sending shivers through your whole body. His lips touch your cheek so fleetingly that you almost wonder if you’ve imagined it.

“Crying takes it out of you,” he sighs. “Let’s put you to bed.”

You feel numb as he leads you into the bedroom and helps you onto the bed before turning to close your blinds.

“Do you like being back in the States?” you ask, hoping you can stretch out his visit a little longer.

“Yeah, I do. I mean, it’s weird, all the back and forth lately. I swear I think I’m still jet lagged, or I’m just permanently fucked up.”

You smile as he sits down on the side of the bed. He smiles back but he makes no move to touch you or get closer.

“How do you like Impact?”

“I like not working Japanese hours.”

“Damn, I’ll bet. It’s one thing with the wrestlers but they don’t give you guys a break ever.”

You suddenly realize that you don’t want to talk about your work in Japan at all.

“I heard your brother is getting into wrestling too now?”

“Yup. I’m not sure Dad wanted either of us doing this for a living but I guess it really is in the blood.”

He takes your hands and places them on your stomach, very ladylike and demure, and pats them with his.

“You need to get some sleep. I’ll go fight with the door to get out.”

“Tell me a bedtime story?” You try to make yourself sound as cute and harmless as possible and not like some crazed broad desperate to prolong the moment.

“No.”

You pout a little, gratified when you hear him chuckle.

“Ok, once upon a time there was an extremely silly little princess who could never figure out what she wanted. And no one ever seemed to be able to help her decide what that was, no matter how hard they tried. The end.”

You can’t help but give a wry laugh at that. “At least it’s nice to be a princess.”

“Who said I was talking about you?”

You stare at him a long time, trying to figure out how to untie all the knots of what you’ve done. You can’t even imagine. You’re still trying to figure it out when he bends down and touches his lips, very softly, very quickly, to yours.

He pulls back but then almost immediately repeats the gesture. Then repeats it again. And again. He shifts so that he’s hovering over you, continuing to give you these little kisses.

“Stop that,” he rasps.

“Stop what? You’re the one kissing me.”

“Hm. I guess you’re right.” He leans in again. “Stop me.”

“I don’t want to.”

He doesn’t stop.

“Yeah, I don’t really want you to stop me either.”

And from that point, it gets more insistent, more romantic, and more passionate, until you feel him easing your pants down and running his hands over your thighs and ass. Determined that he is not just going to turn this into another resentful mutual masturbation session, you pull at his shirt. He wriggles free of it immediately easing you out of yours.

“How do you manage to run around without a bra on like that?” He squeezes and licks at your breasts with a little wink.

“I’m in my own apartment. I’m allowed to walk around however I want.”

“Yeah. But you don’t always wear one at work either, do you?”

He crashes his mouth into yours, tongue eagerly breaching your lips.

“Don’t think I don’t notice,” he pants.

He slides down and presses his face between your legs before you can think of a witty comeback, and once he does, you can’t think of anything. It’s so intense, so determined the way he goes at this, the way he picks up on every little twitch and tremor in your body, how he paces himself and you enough that it never feels like a rush to a goal. You don’t deserve this. You have no right to have him be this good to you.

You twist your hand in his hair, pulling it loose from the disheveled bun he’s always sporting. The parts of it that were trapped inside are still damp and you tug firmly to make him look up at you.

“Did you shower before you came over here?”

He smiles coyly and presses two fingers inside you, curling them like he’s beckoning you forward, making you moan and twist even as you’re trying to keep your mind focused.

“I shower pretty frequently,” he grins, “what’s it to you?”

He presses his lips close to your clit, allowing his tongue to flick ever so lightly against it.

“I don’t know,” you breathe, trying not to get overwhelmed by what he’s doing, “I like thinking you got yourself all cleaned up and handsome for me.”

You feel the soft vibrations of his laughter as he dives back into you, tongue pushing up inside you and making you scream before you grab at his hair again.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this,” you whimper.

“Oh I love doing it.”

“I mean I don’t know why you’re doing this to me, when I’ve been so-”

You’re cut off as he goes right back at it, licking and pushing harder for a few seconds before he whispers, “If you had any idea how often I’ve jerked off fantasizing about eating you out, you’d probably stop speaking to me.”

With that he pins you down and continues in earnest, going at you with a zealot’s vigor so that you can’t question him or do anything but scream and beg him to continue what he’s doing until you fall apart, trembling and gasping.

You feel him wriggle out of his pants before he pulls you onto his lap, kissing you and playfully biting at your lips, his arms wound tight around your waist. You run your hand slowly down the length of his shaft, smiling at the little gasp this elicits.

“I want you inside me.”

“Yeah…” the hesitance in his voice terrifies you. “I was… I was hopeful enough to get all showered and freshened up before I came over but I wasn’t so confident that I actually brought any kind of protection with me.”

“I’m on birth control. And I get checked regularly, I swear, I’m-”

He kisses you hard, so passionately that you almost tumble over.

“You sure?” he whispers when he breaks the kiss.

“Very sure.”

He flips you onto your knees and pulls your hips back towards him. As he enters you, you realize that you’d convinced yourself you weren’t ever going to get this again. It’s like a reprieve from prison, feeling him fill you up.

He leans down enough that the feathery tips of his hair brush against the skin of your back, a stark contrast to the powerful hold he has on your hips. There’s an unbroken stream of praises coming from him but all you can think of to whimper in response is, “Thank you.”

“What?”

He slows his pace just a little.

“Thank you,” you repeat. “I didn’t think you’d want to touch me again. I don’t deserve you being this good to me.”

“Oh sweetheart no.” He pulls you up and holds you against his damp chest, one hand immediately falling to your clit while he continues to thrust inside you. “It’s ok, I’ve got you. I want to feel you come again, I want you to come on my cock.”

You let yourself relax into his touch and it takes very little time until he has you falling apart for him again, your muscles contracting sharply around him as he clearly fights to keep control.

He flips you onto your back like you’re nothing and smiles down at your dazed face.

“Let’s do this right.”

He leans down and pushes himself back inside you slowly crushing your body close to his and planting a fierce kiss on your lips. His movements are agonizingly slow, letting you feel every bit of what’s happening, picking up only when you hitch your hips against his. He keeps you wrapped up tight and close, faces practically touching as he finally lets himself come, eyes locked on yours. It’s a long, tender few minutes while he holds you, touching his lips to your forehead.

“I love you.” You just put it out there before the post-coital haze can fade, hoping it’ll stop him from closing himself off again.

“I love you too,” he whispers, nuzzling against the side of your head. “But you knew that already.”

You dig your nails into his shoulders a little.

“Stay with me. Sleep here, please.”

He looks thoughtful but it doesn’t take long for him to smile, stroking your cheek as he does.

“Yeah,” he beams, “I will.”

He rolls onto his side and pulls you close again.

“Did you seriously think I was going to be able to stay away from you forever?”

“Yes. I was pretty sure that you didn’t entirely want to, but I figured you’d fight it off.”

“How long have we known each other?”

“About six years.”

“You were working at the dojo and we all used to hang out together, right?”

“Yes.”

“How long had we been there before I asked you out to dinner?”

“I don’t know. A few months.”

“Closer to four. And I was already so hung up on you that I could barely think straight when you were around.”

You look at him in surprise. Yes, you’d known that he’d flirted a lot, but at that point all the boys at the dojo were trying to scheme their way into your pants. You’d always assumed that his real interest had developed much later.

“Yeah,” he says, noticing your expression, “I was that into you that early. And you know damn well it only got more intense from there.”

He wraps his arms around you and presses your head against his chest, kissing your hair. “And you thought that having finally gotten to take you to bed, having gotten you to say that you liked me, that I was going to be able to walk away?”

You squeeze him tight and nestle against him, your head immediately finding its way to the hollow of his shoulder. And as soon as it does, your whole body feels warm and safe and content. You want to keep talking to him but you can’t because this sort of bliss doesn't allow you to stay awake.

#david finlay fanfic #david finlay imagine #njpw fanfic #njpw imagine #impact wrestling fanfic #jay white fanfic #jay white imagine #wrestling imagine #wrestling fanfiction #wayward wrestle writing

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thememestho · 3 years

Text

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ 911 fox sentence meme

enjoy this overly extra sentence meme series. episode 2.08 (part 17 of ?)

Nobody's gonna force you to do anything. We're just gonna talk.

The problem is, after 30 years of marriage, I can't get 30 seconds of attention from my husband!

Yeah, some lady up there thought social media wasn't, like, social enough, and so she's blowing up her marriage in real time.

We found your man. He's on his way.

I don't want to hurt anybody.

I just can't handle being ignored anymore.

He's talking to her?

Yeah, that's either gonna go well or... the other thing.

You think that you have something... something special, you know? She's the one. So you wait. And then, at some point, it hits you: you're alone.

And then-and then you realize... "You know what? It's over." You just need to face it and move on.

I don't know why this is happening. We don't even fight.

I'm pretty sure that's why this is happening.

You look right through me. Y-You don't even notice me.

Then we can spend the rest of our lives together, and I can show you how much I love you.

You don't even know who I am anymore. I mean... I don't even know.

How the hell am I supposed to know? She's your wife.

Maybe you're right. Maybe it is over.

Oh my God. That song. He remembered.

I see the girl who used to sneak out to the beach bonfires and listen to The Psychedelic Furs and The Cure.

I see the girl who once drank nine shots of Jager and woke up without a hangover!

You are really mashing those potatoes.

Just relax. Everything's gonna be fine.

We'll have a nice evening. Good food. Pleasant conversation.

Well, I'd rather be spending it with just us.

Thanks a lot, ____. I love you, too.

I just feel bad that you're spending your night off dealing with our family drama.

Well, didn't you reschedule this three times so I could be here to act as a human shield?

Just give him a chance.

I'm so glad to be here. Thank you for having me.

The world looks so different now that I'm single again.

Happy to help. Even though I did initially think you were just coming over to watch the game.

Are you afraid to get back on the horse?

I would never have noticed that blonde over there, licking the salted rim of her margarita glass while she maintains strong, intimate eye contact.

Yeah, that sounds awful.

Uh, you invited my sister?

Sorry I'm late. I don't know why I get on the freeway. I always regret it.

Because you are an eternal optimist, that's why.

Are you hungry?

Oh, yeah, should we get that thing we got last time?

Well, she did manage not to kill anyone.

A candlelight dinner is a romantic gesture, not a hostage situation 40 feet in the air.

You have to admire her creativity, if nothing else. And she did get her happy ending, sort of.

You're the only one who gets the big picture.

Ooh, would you like some more wine?

The lady said real heroes don't drink pale ale.

I see ______'s got a girlfriend.

I was in a pretty serious relationship, uh, but that's over now, I guess.

I'm actually even thinking about... dipping my toe back into the dating game.

I'm just trying to be responsible and well-behaved.

I just thought I'd stopped being that guy.

Men are the worst, right?

You're asking the wrong girl.

I really like her, you know, and not just 'cause she's a redhead, but now if I do want to call and, you know, ask her out, she's gonna think I'm only after one thing.

You are only after one thing. Jerk.

We'd feel a lot better if you got checked out.

You've already been a hero once today, _____. Don't push your luck.

You thought I was being heroic?

A bit stupid, but heroic.

Kind of like having you around.

Long day?

It's strange to hope for boring, but... we do.

_______. Did you come here to apologize?

I just don't want you to feel used or-or taken advantage of.

And I'm the one who sent you the drink, remember?

Sorry, stud, I got to run.

Another car drifted into their lane, the driver tried to avoid getting hit, car went off the road.

Damn, the tree's folded right into the car.

You really think this is gonna work?

Well, that was some divine inspiration.

Hey, even the big guy's a sucker for a love story.

What if you get caught? She could get fired.

Thank you for that.

Anytime, roomie!

You made me hot mustard.

I just can't anymore, with the whole sad face every time they forget it, so...

Anyway, uh, why so much food?

Buffet Fridays. It's the one day we indulge your sister's complete inability to choose what she's in the mood for.

Yeah, so we order everything.

And, because of your sister's hatred for leftovers, I don't have to buy groceries.

Let's go back to you stealing a hook and ladder for a hookup.

It's your fault. You know, you always told me to go after what I wanted. Be confident. Girls aren't scary.

Don't you have impulse control?

All I'm saying is she's beautiful, she's cool. And then she left me standing in a parking lot.

We're not dating, okay?

That's crazy. We're... Friends who hang out.

You're always talking or texting each other. You sing karaoke together. You do Buffridays, you finish each other's sentences. Guys, come on, you're a couple.

To all our many adventures. And the many yet to come.

Shall we add... another memory to the collection?

It's a beautiful day.

For the posterity of online narcissism.

He can't go. He's my heart, my everything.

I guess I can only hope to find something that good.

You don't find it, son. You make it.

Yes, uh, _____ is fine. Uh, he's an idiot, but he's fine.

My life is a work in progress. It's a mess. I wouldn't expect anyone to want to take that on.

I just didn't want you to feel pressured, that I was pushing you to something that you're not ready for.

You never pushed.

I'm not worried about your life before. I mean, I hate that it happened, but... that would never scare me off.

Good. 'Cause my calendar's... wide open.

What's the occasion?

Well, we've both been so busy, I thought... we should spend a nice evening at home, just the two of us.

You are definitely a keeper.

Yeah. Well, after the earthquake and almost dying twice... It makes you reevaluate a few things. So, back to my roots.

I wasn't sure if you were gonna show. You seemed a little hesitant on the phone.

Oh, is that the way you remember it?

Wow, maybe I should have called him.

We fall in and out of love.

Some relationships can seem easy from the start... and others can be faced with tremendous obstacles.

We root for love to conquer all, but we also root for a comeback.

So maybe the greatest love stories aren't the ones that end in tragedies. Maybe they're the ones that start with a second chance.

#rp meme #rp ask meme #rp prompts #rp sentence meme #inbox prompts

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empyrangel · 3 years

Text

This is definitely going to be a long, unhinged rant, but I really need to get this off my chest.

So, I’m watching Merlin again out of boredom, and I’ve reached season 5, where I’ve come face to face with the same problem I always have at this point. Now, I know the fandom is in pretty unanimous agreement that the writing of season 5 (and potentially before) has atrociously butchered pretty much the entire cast of characters. I mean, the only one that I can’t find enough wrong with to be mad about is Arthur, though I’m sure I could if I tried hard enough.

After Gwen became queen, the only thing she would ever do or think about is Arthur. She never showed any sort of fucks towards other characters anymore. All she did was wine to Arthur to stay home and not go help other people, or try to convince him that others getting hurt was fine because that meant it wasn’t him in their place. The writers didn’t know what to do with her after she and Arthur married, so they just reduced her to his worried wife. The only thing she really did in s5 was that whole brainwashed by Morgana plot line that the writers shoehorned in when they realized they didn’t have any more plans for Gwen. But, honestly brainwashed Gwen was so much less annoying than whiny Gwen.

Morgana suffered a similar fate. At first we saw her hatred for Uther conflict with her love of her friends, which was interesting to watch- but when she found out she was Uther’s daughter, everything changed. She turned her sights to wanting to conquer Camelot. In s3 it wasn’t that big of a deal because she still felt like a person, even though she was apathetic towards her old friends. But starting with s4, she just felt like a plot device. She never showed any emotion other than spite, except for occasionally fear, which was refreshing. She had no inner conflict whatsoever. She only appeared in the story to generate conflict, or move the plot along- then she’s defeated and put back in the writers’ toolbox until the next episode where the cycle repeats. We don’t even get any explanation of her personal life outside of the really big events. Where did all of her funds, supplies, and support come from? All she ever does is lose. Surly simply believing in the same cause isn’t enough for all those people to risk themselves to work with her. At this point Morgana barely felt like a character, much less a person.

And of course there’s Mordred. Tragically underrated by both the fanbase and the writers. When we see him as an adult at the start of s5, he aims to pay back Arthur for saving his life as a child, which gets him promoted to knight. Then his objective changes to fulfilling that position to the best of his abilities. He gradually forms a wholesome father-son relationship with Arthur- which we should have seen way more of on screen by the way. Mordred wants to impress Arthur, and believes that Morgana’s way is not the right solution to the war on magic. It’s glaringly obvious to both the characters and the audience that he had no intentions of ill will to Arthur until his hastily written love interest was killed. I know sometimes it can be hard to differentiate between a character doing a bad thing with the author’s intentions, and just plain bad writing, but I think this situation clearly falls under the later.

But everyone already knows all that. What I really want to get off my chest that I haven’t seen mentioned enough- Merlin is a Mary Sue. Let me explain. He’s apparently the greatest wizard who ever lived. I mean we hear about all these great historical healers and seers, and this guy is somehow better than all of them. And yet it’s true. We see it time and time again. There is no limit to Merlin’s powers. He could have saved Arthur’s life, but the writers had to pretend he couldn’t for plot reasons. Mary Sues tend to be overpowered compared to the rest of the cast. And everyone’s always telling him how great he is, aside from when he gets clowned on by people who are oblivious. We have to hear over and over again about how amazing Merlin is, and watch all these important magic people lick his boots. Mary Sues tend tend be liked by everyone, and those who this doesn’t apply to are usually portrayed as villains. Which bring me to another point. Merlin’s almost always portrayed as right. Morally, whenever Merlin makes a decision, or is involved in some kind of ethical conflict, the story always portrays Merlin as the right one, and the other(s) as either villainous, or stubborn and uneducated. And he’s always right objectively too. Whenever Merlin has a hunch or something of a character’s true intentions, or about how a situation will end up, he’s always proven right. (At least on an episode to episode basis. Results may vary for overarching plot lines) It’s so annoying. Heroes are supposed to win some and lose some. That’s what makes for a compelling narrative. But the only times that Merlin lost that actually mattered were when Morgana killed Uther, and when Mordred killed Arthur.

And what makes all this even more infuriating is that Merlin is (maybe not completely, but mostly) the reason that Morgana and Mordred’s Villain arcs were set in motion. I mean, you can’t pretend that a character is the pinochle of morality and then have them cause the deterioration of the two main villains. Merlin caused Morgana to find out she was Uther’s daughter, which, like I stated earlier, got the ball rolling. Instead of just letting Uther die, Merlin accidentally mortally wounded Morgana, but then almost let her die before saving her because of other peoples grief. This actually made everything worse in every way. For all we know, Morgana could’ve just killed Uther and been done with it, but a bunch of terrible stuff ended up happening because Merlin couldn’t just not meddle in things beyond him.

With Mordred, he tried to kill/ get him killed on multiple occasions because of some vague, sourceless prophecy about a child being a murderer. And remember, like I said before, Mordred had no such intentions before his gf was executed. And why did that happen? Merlin convinced Arthur to keep with the execution plans. He hoped that distancing Mordred and Arthur would prevent doom from happening, even though he was already told that Arthur and Mordred’s fates were bound together. Merlin blindly trusts random prophecies and visions, except for when it really matters. Anyway, when things don’t go how Merlin thought they would (which may be the only time in the series a hunch of his had been wrong) Merlin finally realizes, a little too late, “Oh, wait a minute! If Mordred likes Arthur, he won’t want to kill him.” Like no shit dumbass.

The last thing I want to say about this is that Merlin pulled a Gwen as the series went on, and gradually cared more about Arthur than anything else. On multiple occasions, he dumped on magic, the very thing he was supposed to be fighting for, to try to sway Arthur’s opinion about it to protect him from whatever. And it wasn’t even worth it, because Arthur died anyway, and he died with a somewhat negative view of magic at that. Merlin abandoned creating Albian, the end game of his destiny, for Arthur, a piece of his destiny.

In conclusion, we as viewers and fans were robbed of the story we deserved to see- and the characters were robbed of the story they deserved to be apart of.

#traveler from another world ✨#the adventures of merlin #bbc merlin #bbc morgana #bbc arthur #bbc guinevere #bbc gwen #bbc mordred #off my chest #rant #rants and rambles #long post #the Merlin fandom is still alive right?

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rae-arts777 · 4 years

Text

I was Bi Curious

Summary: Clark started hanging around TC after case 2, him and Makoto are pretty close. Clark wants to get closer. Laurent has a big problem with that. Makoto is an oblivious bean

~~~~~~

Clark had met up with them in Germany. Him, Makoto, and Abby went out to sightsee and get some food together.

Cythina and Laurent remained at the hotel, much to both their dismay.

“I can’t believe they didn’t invite us!!! I’m a blast to hang around!” Cythina poured herself another glass of wine.

“I guess we have to remember we arent 20 anymore” Laurent chuckled

“Fuck you!!! I might be almost 40, but I still look 20!!” Cythina chugged her 5th glass of wine “If I say I’m 21, I’m 21!!”

Laurent chuckled and held his hands up in defense “ok, ok, your highness”

Abby walked in, taking off her coat.

“Where’s Edamame and the prince?” Laurent asked.

“Huh? Oh, they wanted to try out some underground bar or something. I’m still jet lagged so I came back to sleep” she hung her coat up “night” she started to head to bedroom with Cythina following

“Wait! Abby!! You know I’m fun right?! I can have fun like a 20 year old!”

Laurent grumbled, the thought of Makoto and Clark alone, made his skin crawl.

Makoto and Clark clicked their beers together and started to drink.

“Its a shame Abigail couldn’t join” Clark said

“Yeah, but she came in a few hours before you, so she’s probably ready to crash”

Clark chuckled “yeah, I could tell she wanted to kill me a lot more then usual”

“That just means she likes you” Makoto teased.

Clark laughed and placed a hand on Makoto’s shoulder “I’m glad we get some one on one though, I’ve missed you”

“Aw, I’ve missed you too” Makoto smiled and sipped his beer.

“You sure you don’t want to come back to my kingdom with me and be my mechanic?” Clark asked “you can live in the palace with me! And have anything you want!”

Makoto laughed and patted his chest “one, I’m not a real mechanic, two, you sure you’re not proposing to me instead?” He joked.

“What if I am?”

“I be surprised, aren’t you into Abby?”

Clark chuckled and gently grabbed Makoto’s chin.

“Does that make you jealous?”

“Why would it?” Makoto asked still oblivious to his advances.

Clark laughed a bit more and leaned in “you do things to me Makoto..you make me question many things”

Before Makoto could respond, Clark’s lips gently pressed against his. He was surprised, but didn’t pull back, it took only a few seconds for him to return the kiss. Clark had moved his hand down, and wrapped it around Makoto’s waist.

Clark broke it and pulled back smiling down at a red Makoto.

“W-why..?” Makoto covered his mouth red “why did you do that?”

“Sorry, I guess you can say, you make me very bi-curious” Clark confessed

“Do you like me?”

“Honestly, I-“

“My my my, aren’t you two getting close.” A voice cut him off.

Makoto and Clark snapped their heads to the side to see Laurent standing there.

Makoto turned even redder, Clark’s hand remaining on his waist.

“Oh! Hello Laurent!” Clark smiled “how did you find us?”

“Oh, well Abby said you two went to a bar, so I just looked up the closest bar to where you all ate. I figured I join you too, some guy time!” Laurent smiled

“Umm Laurent” Makoto spoke up “Clark and I are kinda of-“

“I see! You two think you were going to bother me, I don’t mind!” Laurent basically forced himself in-between them, literally, forcing Clark to move a seat over. “So what are we having? Beer? One beer please!” Laurent order himself a drink.

Makoto groaned a bit and mouthed to Clark “sorry”

Clark chuckled and shot Makoto a smile.

Laurent lead forward to block their view of each other.

For the rest of the night, everytime Clark and Makoto tried to talk, Laurent would cut Clark off. Everytime they tried to look at each other, Laurent would purposely block their views of each other. The night ended with a very drunk Laurent being carried back to the hotel by Clark, and a very irritated Makoto.

“I’m so sorry about him” Makoto apologized once they got Laurent into bed.

“It’s fine really! I should have known that you two were an item” Clark apologized

“What? No! Oh god no! We are not! Trust me!” Makoto explained

Clark just laughed “well, I’m going to head back to my hotel room” he placed a peck on Makoto’s head “goodnight” he left a flustered Makoto fidgeting and rethinking all his feelings.

“God you’re an idiot” Abby told him

“Huh?! I thought you were asleep!”

“I was getting water. Also congrats, if you want my opinion, if you marry Clark, you get to live in a fucking palace and be a prince”

“I’m not marrying Clark! He was having a bi curious episode!” Makoto turned redder.

“Well if you marry him, I want in on the royal life”

“Bitch”

“Virgin”

“Edamame!!!” Laurent stumbled out of the bedroom and threw himself over Makoto “come to bed my soybean!!” He whined

“Get off me you drunk!” Makoto scolded him and led him back to bed. “Go to sleep”

“Edamame” Laurent whined “I know I can’t make you a real prince...but I’ll treat you like one...promise”

Makoto rolled his eyes and patted his head “alright Laurent, go to sleep”

“Mmmm...my edamame...” Laurent hugged the pillow and feel asleep.

“God you’re an idiot” Makoto sighed, still oblivious that he was once again, getting hit on.

#great pretender #makoto edamura #grepre #the great pretender #edamura makoto #laurent thierry #abby jones #abigail jones #cynthia moore #great pretender anime #great pretender fic #fanfic #fanfiction #clark ibrahim #eduarent #bi curious #bi curious Clark #Laurent is jealous #oblivious Makoto

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 10: Myofascial Release

Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: Shane and Sy decompress after an emotional evening, Shane finds it difficult to get out of her own head and live in the moment, but Sy knows exactly how to help her, and not to be a complete hoe and spoil things, but…things get steamier than ever between our favorite therapist and patient duo.

Oh snap! You’re behind! Get on track here!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Language, mature themes, alcohol consumption, the smut you’ve all been waiting for so patiently! (I hope it lives up to your undoubtedly high expectations!)

Author’s Note: Oh gosh, y’all, I am so nervous to post this. Somehow it doesn’t feel like my smuttiest smut. And like, all previous chapters have been kind of leading up to this moment. The good news is, I’ve decided to continue writing this story after the sex. I’ve got some ideas about where to go from here, and I want to keep it going. Plus, it feels wrong to write all of this and then just drop them without a big picture resolution. They’re gonna go through some shit, though. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

@speakerforthedead0

@tumblnewby

@suavechops

@radkesgirl83

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

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Her living room was cast in the low light of the floor lamp she had left on. Intending to come home after dark. Alone. She hated walking into a dark house by herself.

Well, tonight, she wasn’t alone. And although Sy had been to her house before, this was different. They were officially a couple, and they were no longer waiting to express, to the fullest extent, their true affection for one another.

Ever the hostess, despite her nervous tension, Shane asked Sy if he wanted anything to drink, rambling off several options somewhat awkwardly.

“I’m fine, darlin.’” He assured her, stopping her at some point in the rant, before she was completely done. “Do you need something?”

“Umm, I think I should have a glass of wine.” Her eyes darted to the kitchen across her serve-through counter space and landed on her fridge. “I’m…I’m really nervous.”

"Why don't we watch a little TV for a while? You get you some wine, and I'll put somethin' on. What are we watchin', sunshine?"

"Ummmm, something light? Funny? Something I've seen." She wouldn't be able to process anything new or heavy right now.

"I'm on it." he kissed the top of her head and left her side for the sofa, where he plopped himself down like a comfy hound dog, and picked up the remote to her Smart TV.

She smiled as she busied herself in the kitchen. She decided she wanted a snack with her wine. She got a plate of cheese and crackers together first. Then she remembered she had some venison sausage one of her coworkers had brought in, and put that on the plate, too. She got out a chilled bottle of her favorite, cheap moscato and a stemless glass. She couldn't go in there without something for Sy, so she also got a glass of ice water ready for him. She put the whole spread on her big serving tray and took it to the living room.

Sy was already halfway through the first episode of Parks and Recreation.

"I saw this in your 'Watch it again' group, and thought maybe you'd like to re-watch it. I've heard you talk about it a lot, and I've never seen it." He didn't complain at her for taking forever. He just lit up when he saw her. Like it was the first time. And not the hundredth.

"That's perfect, babe. I brought some snacks out, too. Some cheese and crackers, and this really good sausage one of my coworkers brought me. You like deer?" she asked.

"One of my favorite pet names." he teased. "I do, though, yes."

They ate, and laughed, and watched about four or five episodes, it was hard to keep track. But after approximately half the bottle, Shane had summoned some courage. She started playing at the texture of Sy's jeans, running a fingernail across the coarse fabric.

"Hang on, love bug. I want to know somethin.'" she looked up at him, mildly confused. "I'm trying to think of a reason you need to get tipsy to sleep with me that I shouldn't take personally." he rubbed her upper arm, comforting her as no one had done since she was a small child. At least not that she could remember.

"No, Sy. It's not like that. You aren't the problem at all!" she paused. He let her gather her thoughts. She appreciated that he knew she intended to continue and that he didn't rush her to do it. He was patient. And kind. And all of that should have made this whole night easier. But somehow it didn’t.

“I’m the problem." She confessed after a long pause and a deep sigh. "I mean, I’m in my head about it all, I know. But it’s been…almost six years since I’ve slept with anyone, five and a half, at least, and I can’t seem to wrap my head around it now that I know it’s going to happen again.”

He pulled her body into his, squeezing her tightly for one of his soul cleansing hugs.

“Sunshine. Everything will come back to ya. We’ll just go as slow as ya want. I got all night.”

“Okay. Well, I guess, since I’m a bit sleepy from the wine, we should head to bed.”

Sy affirmed the idea, and made to help her put their snacks away in the kitchen.

She got out containers for their leftover food while Sy stoppered the wine, put it in the fridge, and washed their glasses.

She felt his warmth before she felt his touch. He stood behind her, radiating his particular brand of heat for a moment, and taking in the scent of her hair near her right ear. She heard a low rumble from someplace deep in him which slowed her efforts at the counter. His hands were light but very much present on her hips. A whisper against the fabric of the casual but feminine floral dress she’d chosen for the night. But she felt it like the weight of her favorite old blanket, heavy with years and warm comfort.

He kissed her temple, chaste and unassuming. But still full of desperation. She could tell that he was ready. Even without the alignment of their bodies completely giving him away.

“Don’tcha think this stuff can wait a couple hours, darlin'?"

His baritone, breathless in her ear, was soothing her back into the mindset of being with him. His feather touch still lingering at her hips and waist. She thought back to those seminars she'd gone to on manual therapy where the speaker talked in depth about the fascial tissues running all across the various muscles in the human body and how trauma to one part could cause tension in another like a snag in a sweater and how he taught the participants techniques to undo that trauma through myofascial release. Sy was slowly managing to unwind and unbind the taut fibers of her heart and relieve that pain that Elliott, in particular had set into place so firmly when he'd hurt her. Lied to her. Cheated on her. Gaslit her. Made her feel like she'd never be loved if she left him. Made her question the very idea of what love meant. Because if what they'd had was truly love, she didn't want it. Wanted no part of the games or the abuse or the manipulation.

Without fully realizing it, during this time of reflection and healing, Shane had given up the task at her hands and turned to Sy, open to his treatment, as he'd always been so open to hers…or mostly. And she let him kiss her, reciprocating. And hold her, returning his enveloping embrace. She even let him pick her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, resting them on his…all too well-defined bilateral gluteus maximus that she'd had to pretend to ignore for weeks. In the therapist side of her brain, alarm bells were going off. "His knee isn't fully healed! You're gonna undo all of the work you've both done so far! He's gonna hurt himself carrying you around!" but she ignored them and trusted him as he walked to her room.

Shane wanted to say that her bedroom was one of splendor. Immaculately made bed, and overall, the picture of tidiness. The reality was much, MUCH different. Glasses half full of water were everywhere (she may be forgetful, but at least she was optimistic), at least one coffee mug sat on the nightstand from the previous weekend when she took a morning cup of tea in bed with her George Harrison biography. Laundry overflowed from a sorting hamper in the corner, and her bed sat, unmade, littered with crumpled pillows, sheets, blankets, and the pajamas she'd slept in last night. She wasn't the kind of person to make her bed for reasons other than having company over, like the fancy company you had to give a tour of your whole house. She'd tried to be that person numerous times, but it never seemed to stick.

Tonight, though, the guilt that came with sub-par housekeeping skills wasn't plaguing her. Right now, all she felt was the weightlessness of being with Sy, wrapped in him, kissing him, and fully ready for what was about to happen between them, as he fell with her onto her bed. Their heads clunked together awkwardly, invoking a mutual wince, followed by bouts of laughter and playful kisses.

He hovered over her a moment, just taking her in. His fingers ghosting her forehead and cheeks to clear it of the whisps of hair obscuring her face. He seemed to examine her in methodical quadrants. Learning the curves and colors and every wrinkle, freckle, and pore. She was still fully clothed, but she'd never felt so bare and vulnerable.

He left her eyes for last. His gaze drowning her delightfully. Random song lyrics came to mind, "the serenity of a clear blue mountain lake" and she thought yes. That is the precise aesthetic of this man's stare. His expression was inscrutable. She wanted to say he looked happy and content, but she didn't want to presume.

He began tracing the floral pattern on her dress with his fingers, and said, "I really like this dress on you."

She laughed, "Oh, that's the beginning of the oldest line in the book. You know you've already got me in bed, right?"

"No, I…" he chuckled, embarrased. "I mean it sincerely. Seeing you in flowers like this…makes me think they bloom right from ya."

She propped herself up on her elbows, dumbstruck by this uncharacteristically poetic side of him she'd just been shown. She stroked the side of his face.

"The man who came up with the original pickup line is rolling over in his grave attempting to kick himself for not thinking of something so beautiful."

"Yeah?"

"HELL yeah. He would have gotten WAY more lucky with a statement like that."

"You're probably right." he said, pulling her up to hold her in his arms.

"If for no other reason that it would have landed him a higher caliber woman than the floozies that he probably got."

He moaned his ascent against her neck, and continued, "Which would have meant a lot more getting lucky down the road, right?"

"Traditionally speaking, I'd say yes." she laughed, her fingers in his hair, which was barely long enough for the action.

"Okay, I know I said I liked the dress, but…" he tugged at the hemline tucked just under her hips and pulled it off her willing body.

"About time, cowboy!" she smiled, breathless.

He continued kissing her as he unhooked her strapless bra and tossed it aside, into the abyss, where the dress had gone. She was so dizzy from him that she barely noticed he was laying her down until her warm back hit cool sheets. She could feel his touch everywhere at once, despite the fact that he was really only making two or three points of contact.

Shane trembled as Sy peppered her soft body with kisses. She couldn't recall shivering like this before, especially when there was nothing but warmth, even heat, around her. His beard grazing her hips and thighs was sending tremors through her unlike anything she'd ever felt. She was a goner, and he hadn't even truly begun.

His breath against her skin was like lightning in the clouds. A storm began forming within, and all around them from his work on her…and eventually in her. He took the time to remove both of the shirts he was wearing--plaid cotton blend and thick white jersey. She reached out to run her fingertips over his chest, covered in a manly stand of thick, dark hair. It ran over his pecs and down his abdomen…farther, she knew, than was exposed right now.

She wanted to touch him. To return the favor. To stir in him the same tempest he'd stirred in her. She unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. She was a little surprised he wasn't resisting her, but pleased, all the same. She took the heavy weight of him out in some shock…she'd caught outlines and silhouettes often since they'd been together, but he hadn't let her go this far yet. It had made her feel a little slutty at the time, but now, she understood. He was…protecting her, in a way. She handled him curiously, gently, as he'd been with her. Her apprehension, however, grew with him.

"Sy, you're…I…" she wasn't sure what to say. But she had concerns about being rent in two by him.

"I think I remember tellin' ya you wouldn't be laughin,' sunshine." he grinned at her, breathless as she stroked him.

"You were right. But don't get too used to me saying so." she smirked back at him.

He pulled away from her, reluctantly, but eager to get back to tasting her.

She couldn't comprehend what he was doing. But it felt incredible. No one she'd ever been with had made her feel like this. Like her blood was effervescent and her body was aglow like embers. His reaction to her was as much a part of the pleasure as his ministrations themselves. She could tell he was enjoying himself which fed her desire.

She felt a tension coiling inside her, something similar to climaxes past but she could tell, much more intense. What was different? Other than Sy, she didn't know. But it was working. She moaned and writhed into him.

"Yeah, sugar. Let that out. I wanna hear it." he quickened, driving her mad and sending her spinning into her bliss, incomprehensible words and sounds escaping her, growls of satisfaction escaping him, but he didn't stop.

She felt his fingers working inside her to pull another climax from deep within her. This was new for her, as well. Not only was he putting her first, but he was making her a priority in double measure before taking anything for himself. As that pressure built in her again, she felt his gaze on her, hungry and adoring, and she heard his grunts of exertion and she thought, lust. She wasn't sure how many of his digits he'd managed to slide into her, but it felt splendid, and she wanted more. She gripped his arms to convey this desire, words caught in her throat. He dove headlong back down to her, adding his mouth to the onslaught of his hand, and before she could get out more than a "Fuuuu" she was falling apart again, her body spasming and writhing beneath his utter oral perfection. Eventually, she finished the word when she ran out of air and had to take in a large gasp on the "uck."

She watched him kiss around her thighs and hips, in awe of him in his entirety.

Breathless, she asked, "Why are you so good to me, Sy?"

"Well, a wise woman once told me, 'good go to heaven.'" he looked coyly up at her. "I think I'm there, sunshine."

"Ya know, you're the best patient I've ever had." she smiled.

"Well, I should hope so." he boasted as he kissed at her breasts, nipping at the taut, dark bud in the center. She gasped. He let go and continued his ascent.

He had a point. Who could have qualified as a "better" patient than him when he'd given her so much? Even more than what they were doing tonight. His kindness. The love he had always shown her, even when she wasn't ready to see it. His strength, but also his vulnerability that she seemed to be the only one ever to see. Combine that with the fact that his mind was basically a steel trap for her every word and it would have made him more than perfect enough for her.

But as he broke away from her kiss to take off his jeans, she marveled at the shape and size of his whole body. Those thick, strong arms, the broad, defined torso, the massive, powerful legs of an avid runner, and a face that God Himself would probably be jealous of, if He was capable of the feeling. This gorgeous exterior that Michelangelo would have killed to sculpt, combined with all of his other amazing qualities, and he was almost too perfect.

He cuddled up next to her, reached up, and caressed her face, still flush with pleasure.

"I could look at this face, and nothin' else for…damn… hours. Maybe days."

She blushed and cast her eyes down, and half whispered, "The feeling is mutual."

"Then why're you lookin' away, darlin'?" he tilted her chin up. "That shy business is cute and all, but you don't have to hide from me, sweetheart."

"Again, it's not you, it's me." she chuckled, nervously.

"You wanna call it a night, for now?" he asked without a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"You're kidding, right?" she raised her eyebrows. "You did all that work getting me ready for you, and I won't let that be a wasted effort." she pulled him to her and into a deep kiss, rolling onto her back and bringing him with her.

"Oh, sugar, that wasn't no wasted effort. That was time well spent. No matter what." he said in short bursts when he could pull away from her lips.

He lifted himself up and over her, kneeling between her legs, already open for him. She thought he should know how ready she was. Thought it should be painfully obvious. But he asked anyway.

"You ready, sunshine?" he asked, as he opened the condom and rolled it on…damn he was slick! She hadn't even noticed him get it from wherever he'd had it. She presumed his jeans pocket, which would explain much. She had been very distracted by his naked perfection.

"Yes. Please." she had been struck with an urgency as they stood here on the verge of everything.

He sunk slowly into her, the contentment of coming home spread over his face, the bliss of being whole spreading over hers. No, she thought. She was more than whole. She'd always felt mostly whole during sex. Sy made her feel as though she was overflowing with herself. And not just because she was overflowing with him. The way he moved in her, over her, with her, it was like he was afraid she'd turn to vapor around him before he could finish. Like she was nothing more substantial than a bubble full of smoke, and he thought she may burst and disappear. Although, you couldn't tell from the tight grip he kept on her. A bruising grip that she thought might have had a chance of popping a football. She didn't care. She wanted him to touch and hold her like this until they had no more to give each other.

As they built toward their mutual undoing, the world and everything in it faded away. There was no personal drama or injury. Nothing but the euphoria of this newfound oneness. The caresses and thrusts and groans of pleasure were the only things that mattered. Each other, and what they found therein.

“Shane.” He whispered to her, his pinnacle nigh.

“Sy!” She whimpered, that familiar tension approaching its apex.

He kissed her, as if he meant to permanently emboss her onto the bedding and onto his lips. She reeled as she came undone, little sparks of light obscuring her vision for a fraction of a second. He followed her closely, breathless and spent.

He laid down beside her, as close to her as possible, and began drawing mindless circular patterns on her stomach and around her breasts.

“Wow.” She said, almost under her breath.

“How ya feelin,’ sunshine?”

“Mmm, boneless. Dazed. Half wishing we’d done that weeks ago. I didn’t have a clue what I was missing.”

“Oh, I think you had an idea.” He said as he neatly doffed and disposed of the prophylactic in the waste can by her bed.

“Okay, a bit.” She chuckled. “It’s not like you can hide that…thing.”

“And I don’t try to, darlin’!” He kissed her forehead “Well, I don’t hide it just anywhere, put it that way.” He smirked at his dirty joke and she swatted him for it.

“You’re bad!”

“And you love it.”

She couldn’t argue. She loved his badness and his goodness and everything in between.

Up Next: Chapter Eleven- Discharge Plan

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cutiepisenpai · 4 years

Text

Gifted part 6

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut, No happy ending, Oral sex(Male receiving) vaginal penetration, unprotected sex. graphic crimes.

***Flashbacks are in italics***

Sirens are roaring in the distance, red stained clothing, blood pools into the grass below. Morgan is kneeling over Y/N trying to apply pressure to the wounds gushing blood. “Just hold on, Y/N help is on the way. Hold on.” Morgan says to an unresponsive Y/N. He looks up to see the ambulance approaching, “OVER HERE!! WE HAVE A FEDERAL AGENT DOWN AND NEED MEDICAL.” Morgan yells to the medics approaching. He looks down to Y/N her eyes start to close, “NO NO! COME ON NOW. KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN. YOU’VE GOT TO STAY AWAKE!.” He shouts. The medics rush over to get her on the gurney and into the ambulance. Morgan climbs in the back with them as they speed off to the hospital.

Four month earlier: Spencer and Y/N were spending the night separately in their own apartments. Y/N is repacking her go bag enjoying a glass of wine as she dances through her apartment listening to music she knows Spencer doesn’t like when the phone rings. She looks at the caller smiling before answering, “Hello my beautiful buzzy honeybee.” She says into the phone. She is met with a deep sigh, “Why do you call me that?” “Honeybee’s are essential to life and you are essential to mine.” She giggles out. Spencer is happy she wasn’t there to see him blush, he had luckily gotten it under control after the first few weeks of dating. “So you finally take some time to yourself and you what? Want to spend your night on the phone with me?” She asks. “I was reading The Magical Mathematics of Quantum Physics but I kept thinking about you.” He replied. “You know I think about you too when we’re not together but we decided that a night apart would be a good break. You are still welcome to come over if you like. I would come to you but I’m on my second glass of wine.” She says waiting for his response. “No it’s ok I just wanted to hear your voice, I’ll um I’ll see you in the morning right?” “Bright and early, sunshine.” She sings out. “Goodnight my love.” He laughs out before hanging up. The next morning just like she said she picks up Spencer and they head to work. The young couple walks into the office hand in hand, which they have been doing since the team found out about them dating. The team doesn’t have a current case and very little paperwork to get done so they are hanging around the office mostly chit chatting. Spencer, even though he doesn’t need more coffee is on his third cup of the day. Y/N is sitting on his desk talking with JJ and Prentiss when Spencer comes over with his coffee. After he takes a sip and sets it down Y/N picks up the mug taking a quick sip before scrunching her face at the taste, “My god how do you drink that? I think I can feel a cavity forming as we speak.” She chirped. Spencer picks up the cup and takes another sip, “Taste fine to me.” He grins. “Um are you not going to say anything about the amount of germs that spread from you two sharing a drink?” JJ asks. They look at each other before sharing a quick kiss, “I don’t see why that would be a problem with her.” Spencer says smugly.

Now at the hospital Morgan is pacing back and forth arms and torso covered in Y/N’s blood. The rest of the team has rushed in taking in the scene before them. “What happened? Is Y/N alright?” Spencer is the first person to say anything. “She is in surgery right now and they haven’t told me anything.” Morgan responds. “Morgan what happened at the park you two were supposed to be surveying the dump site?” Hotch asks. “We were, um we got to the park and she was saying there was something strange about the dump site and the unsub that something was off that it didn’t feel right.” Morgan starts thinking back to the earlier events, “ We headed down the ditch where the body was left and Y/N said the staging seemed off. She said she couldn’t figure out exactly what it was but it wasn’t making sense. When we walked back up we were discussing the case. I didn’t even hear the shots the next thing I knew she was on the ground and I was trying to stop the bleeding. I’m sorry Reid.” He tells them. The comment directs the team’s attention to Reid; he jaw is clenched tightly teeth grinding, eyes red and filled with tears refusing to fall. “We are of no use to her here, we need to find the unsub.” Spencer sniffled.

The team was on the jet flying home from a successful case, Y/N and Spencer had been in a heated argument since the case was solved. “I don’t want to watch Doctor Who. I understand that you and Garcia are fans of it but that doesn’t mean I have to watch it.” Y/N whines while yawning lightly. “It’s a great show, you should at least give it a chance.” Spencer responds. They were sitting side by side with her head on his shoulder still arguing. “Just one episode I promise you’ll love it.” He bargains. “No because I will keep watching it because I love you and have an issue telling you no since you’re so cute.” She says deep yawn coming out afterward. Spencer smiles at how adorable she is. “It will be fun Garcia can join and she’ll make it more fun.” “Uh uh and don’t you dare tell her she never gives up she…..” Y/N trails off falling completely asleep on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her shoulder pulling her in closer to him and gently kissing the top of her head. “Oh you two are grossly in love. Get a room.” Prentiss jokingly gags out at them.

The team is back at Quantico since the original case they were working on was local. “So are we looking for a different unsub or are these two incidents related.” Rossi asks. “If they are related and had something to do with the BAU why would the unsub only choose to shoot Y/N, I was right there they had a clear shot.” Morgan questioned. “Ok if you’re up for it we need to do a cognitive interview and see what Y/N was trying to tell you.” Hotch says. “The case started that morning and we were brought in and briefed. This was the third dumped body found just outside of a park in the DC area. You split us up into teams, me and Y/N were sent to check out the dump site.” Morgan starts by saying. “Okay, so what happened next, I need all the details, even the ones unrelated to the case?” Hotch asks. “On the drive up I was giving her a hard time. You know, asking about how things were going between her and Reid, they are practically attached at the hip these days. “So what’s going on with you two? Getting ready to head down the aisle soon?” Morgan laughed out. “Shush it, we are not there yet don’t try to pressure us into anything.” Y/N retorts. “I’m just saying I’ve seen how he looks at you since day one. I wouldn’t be surprised.” “Oh and how is that?” Y/N asks. “Like you are the answer to life itself. I mean seriously what’s the wait?” “What’s the wait? Are you ready to get married?” Y/N argues. It didn’t seem like much at the time we all know she isn’t very forthcoming with personal information but now I don’t know. When we first got to the park she looked around and said something was wrong. “What was wrong?” Hotch asks. “These are all very remote parks off of hiking trails and in wooded areas, but the bodies were all found relatively fast within a few hours of them dying.” Y/N said as they walked down into the ditch. “I mean look at this it was definitely just a disposal site there is nothing suggesting the victims were killed here.” Y/N adds. “No tire tracks so our unsub has to be physically fit enough to carry a dead body into this ditch.” Morgan said. “So it’s possible our unsub was the person who called in saying he found the body. This is not a well trafficked area and it would be slim chances that the bodies would have been found so quickly.” Y/N said as Morgan helped her out of the ditch. Standing and surveying the surrounding area Morgan turns to look at Y/N and sees as the first shot hits her in the chest, the second in the shoulder and the final shot hits her in the head. Blood sprays as she falls to the ground. It happened so fast I didn’t even hear the gunshot.” Morgan finished explaining tears spouting from his eyes. “This isn’t your fault Morgan, you couldn’t have possibly known what was going to happen.” Hotch says. “I was standing right there and did nothing. If she doesn’t make it. Reid, he’ll never forgive me.” Morgan muttered. “Y/N is a fighter and so long as there is hope we can’t give up.” Hotch says. Spencer had looked through the case file so many times looking for more information hoping to find something, anything really. He was trying to keep it together, to keep his mind off of Y/N for now, if he focused on her, he would be of no use to the team and they needed to find out who did this.

The team did not have a current case, something they were all thankful for. They had back to back cases for weeks, lucky if they got a few hours to go home before almost immediately being called back in, but today they were catching up on all of the paperwork they had put off over the weeks. The day had been relaxing, as relaxing as paperwork could be but no one was complaining. Y/N had disappeared for a while claiming that she was looking for something related in the archives and Spencer decided to go look for her. Spencer walks in to see Y/N pulling file after file out of the cabinets grumbling to herself. “Hey, I thought you came to get one file what are you doing?” Spencer asks. “Ugh, none of these are in the right place! What is the point of filing them if you’re going to do it wrong?! So now I’m fixing it!” Y/N yelled. Spencer walks up behind her, rubbing her shoulders and moving down to rub down her arms and taking the file out of her hand, tossing it onto the cabinet in front of them. “It’s going to be ok, sweetie.” He says soothingly, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing a kiss on her neck. “Mmm, don’t start that.” She huffs out. “Start what?” He asks, placing more kisses on her neck, “I’m just trying to help you relax.” “Relax huh, if that is what you want then you need to get your lips off of my neck.” She whines. “If you say so.” is all Spencer says before turning her around to face him and pulling her into a kiss. It’s feverish and messy, teeth clacking and panting as he bites down on her lower lip. “We have to stop… anyone can walk in.” She moans out. Spencer attaches his lips to the junction on her neck biting down and sucking hard making her whine and moan loudly. She is tugging on his shirt when he abruptly moves away. With a smirk on his face, “We should get back to work before someone comes looking for us.” Y/N rolls her eyes grabbing the file she originally came in to get. “Hey wait.” She says to Spencer pulling him back towards her. He looks at her questioningly waiting to see what she is going to say next. “That was not very nice of you, honeybee.” She says while pulling him back towards her, she reaches up to caress his cheek before bringing her hands back down and readjusting his tie. “I’ll get you back for that later, you’ll never see it coming.” They leave the archive room walking back into the bullpen when Morgan pokes at Y/N’s neck stating, “Hmm, did you two have fun in there? You didn’t have that when you left.”

The team had received little information on Y/N’s condition from the hospital; so far what they had heard was that the bullets in her chest and shoulder had been successfully removed and they were still working on the one in her head. “So there is information on the bullets that Y/N was shot with.” Rossi says, pausing to look at Reid before continuing, “The bullets used were .338 Lapua Magnum and they had her first and middle name engraved in the bullet.” Rossi finished. “A sniper?” Spencer asks. “Those rounds are common among military snipers,”Morgan adds. “There is more to it, there is something you all don’t know about Y/N.” Hotch tells the team, “Something like what?” Prentiss asks. “Before Y/N came to the BAU she worked with the DoD (Department of Defense).” Hotch says, “Yea we know, when she first started Garcia looked into her.” JJ says. “We know that but even you don’t have access to what’s inside those DoD files. What you hear here right now does not leave this room. Y/N worked specifically for the NSA. Her work with the NSA included the creation of specific programs that can be used to spy on citizens. Alongside that she also for a short period of time was a sniper with the NSA. There are no specifics on her work, none of us have clearance for that and she is not permitted to speak on any of this.” Hotch finished saying. The team is silent, still taking in the information. “So you’re telling us this for a reason?” Morgan asks “When Y/N was working as a sniper she had a very specific way of taking down a target. She used .338 Lapua Magnum bullets and she hit every target in their joints to insure survival so they can be interviewed later on. So this looks personal. I think that the unsub had encountered her beforehand and killed those other people to get us to come out until he could get a shot in and in this case it worked.” Hotch explained. “But if this has to do with her work at the NSA what can we do? They aren’t going to give us any information.” Prentiss asks, “We just have to work with the bit of information that we do have.”

Spencer and Y/N were on a hill of a local park. Spencer had set up a night time picnic for them. They laid on the blanket looking up towards the sky, they had binoculars as they looked at the night sky. “So of course we have Ursa Minor by far the easiest constellation to find.” Y/N says looking up at the night sky. “And there is Regulus leading into Leo” She said next. “Stargazing was a good idea. You look so beautiful in the moonlight.” Spencer says, smiling at her. She puts down the binoculars to look over to him reaching out and running a hand through his hair. “This was a nice change of pace. We are practically inside all of the time nowadays.” She says The moment is nice it is as if time stills. They scooch in close to one another kissing as they lay on the blanket. The moment is sweet but ends quickly when a bug lands near Y/N causing her to jump and screech fleeing from the bug. Spencer wants nothing more than to come to her rescue but her reaction is so endearing and he just lays there and laughs. She picks up a pillow to wack him with, “It’s not funny Spence!” She yells. He stands up to hug her, “I know I’m sorry. We can pack up and go home.” They drive back to Spencer’s apartment to retire for the night. After showering they climb into bed. “Are you wearing my shirt?” Spencer asks even though it is obvious. “Yes, it smells like you. If you want it back by all means.” She says with a wink. Grabbing the back of her thigh and pulling her legs to wrap them around his waist. “You’re so beautiful you know that.” He says. Y/N wraps her arms around his neck, “I love you.” she whispers. “I love you too.” Spencer whispers back before taking her lips into his kissing her passionately. His hands run under the shirt and her back gently caressing her sides. Y/N tightens her legs around Spencer flipping them so that she was now straddling his hips. She leans down sucking on his neck leaving a bruise in her wake. She raked her hands down his chest reaching the hem of his shirt and pulled back taking the shirt to pull off of his body. Y/N kisses all over his chest, light gentle kisses trailing down to his happy trail. “So are you up for something more?” She says between kisses. He looks down making eye contact groaning at the sultry look in her eyes and nods. She taps his thigh signalling him to raise his hips so she can pull off his pajama pants along with his boxers. Laying herself between his thighs she kisses the tip of his semi-hard cock making his breath hitch. Wrapping her lips around the head and sucking gently until he becomes fully erect. She continues to tease him pulling off of him before licking down the underside of his cock and coming back up tongue swirling around the tip of his cock. “Stop teasing. Y/N” Spencer moans out gripping her hair in his hands.

She wrapped her lips around the tip again, tongue swirling and she bobbed down engulfing him inch by inch. She moaned the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. Heat took over her body arousal soaking the thin cotton panties she wore. She swallowed the last few inches before she felt tightness in her throat causing her to gag. “Can’t take it?” He challenges laughing. She squeezed her thumb before surging forward taking all of him in hallowing her cheeks and sucking hard receiving a strangled noise and he bucks his hips up into her mouth. She pulls up sucking the entire way before pulling off with a pop. Spencer’s chest is heaving as he pants. Y/N had slid off her panties but kept his shirt on when she climbed back onto the bed. Spencer who has caught his breath is now sitting up back against the headboard licking his lips at the sight before him. Y/N gets to the head of the bed and straddles his lap once again scooting close to him but not touching. “Tell me honeybee what is it that you want?” she says as she runs her hands through his hair brushing it back. He grabs at the hem of the shirt she is wearing pulling it up off of her. Reaching out to take a nipple between two fingers pinching and rolling the nub eliciting a moan from her, “I want you to ride me, kitten.” She surges forward to kiss him and when she does he lifts her hips up bringing her closer to his cock rubbing between her slick folds. She lowers herself down on him, a muffled groan into his mouth. She raises herself up before lower back down again setting a steady pace. Spencer pulls on Y/N’s hair exposing her neck to him and he latched on suckling leaving a bruise. She reached between them rubbing circles on her clit. It wasn’t long before she quickened the pace and tilted her head back in ecstasy panting roughly with each thrust. She can feel her orgasm rapidly advancing. “I’m close” She whispers in Spencer’s ear putting an arm around his neck desk pulling them chest to chest. Spencer begins thrusting upwards meeting Y/N’s thrusts feeling his orgasm close approaching. He digs his fingers into her hips lost in pleasure. He can feel her walls squirming around him and with a few more thrust he leans in for an open mouth kiss as she cries out her orgasm ripping through her body. Her body trembles and shudders sending Spencer over the edge as he releases his cum into her eager hole. Deep inhales and exhales are heard as they come down from their collective high foreheads touching. Y/N pulls off Spencer laying down on her side facing him. He reaches over gently pushing her wet bangs out of her eyes. He looks into her eyes, always bright but he can see the glazed over dew before they flutter shut and she drifts peacefully to sleep. Spencer awakes the next morning bright sunlight shining through the windows. He looks down to see Y/N asleep on his chest, her hair is a mess but to him she is gorgeous. He kisses the top of her head, “Good morning love.” He says voice horse. She turns and her eyes open before immediately shutting back closed wincing at the sunlight. “Shush, go back to sleep.” She says groggily.

The team has not been able to find any new information on the unsub. There was no evidence left at the park crime scene suggesting that anyone had ever been there. They even tried to talk with NSA but if they had any information at all they weren’t offering any assistance. Hitting wall after wall Hotch sent Garcia and Reid back to the hospital to wait and hear about Y/N. Hours later a woman in scrubs came out to speak with them. Her face was red and her eyes looked as if she was trying not to cry. “Dr. Reid, Agent Garcia. I’m Dr. Y/L/N I’m Y/N’s mother.” They knew her mother was a surgeon at this hospital but none of them thought she would be the one performing the surgery. “We got the last bullet out and intracranial pressure is coming down. But she is still unresponsive.” She explains. “So what does that mean? Is she okay?” Garcia asked. “The bullet tore through her frontal lobe. As of right now we don’t know what is going to happen. It could be a day, it could be a week. There was a lot of damage at this point and she is lucky to be alive.” She sobs out. This information is the dam that breaks Reid, tears uncontrollably flowing from his eyes as Garcia hugs him in an attempt to comfort him. Days had passed and the case ran cold, no new leads, nothing to connect the unsub. Spencer spent every chance he could visiting Y/N at the hospital. She hadn’t shown any signs of waking soon, but Spencer spent his time with her talking and reading hoping that it brought her comfort. A week later while the team was dejectedly filing the paperwork from the case they were working when Y/N got shot since there were no new leads they were told they had to move on and take a new case until new evidence presented itself. Reid is sitting at his desk, he would only talk if someone started a conversation with him. Garcia had been trying to keep his spirits up bringing him colorful figurines from her office and placing them around his desk. He is sitting at his desk staring off into nothingness when he hears the phone ring. “Dr. Spencer Reid” he grumbled into the phone. There was a nurse on the other side of the phone informing him that Y/N is awake. He jumps from his seat rushing out of the door telling no one where he is going. Arriving at the hospital he dashes down the halls towards Y/N’s room and when he opens the door and sees her sitting up, eyes open he runs over and throws his arms around her. “I’m so glad you’re awake.” He whispers. It wasn’t until he pulls back and makes eye contact that he realizes something is wrong. She smiles at him but it’s not the smile he knows, “Um hi.” She says, sounding confused. He doesn’t get a chance to ask her anything before, “Do I know you?” and those four words break his heart.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #angst #fluff #Smut #no happy ending #BAU Team #bau x reader #Penelope Garcia #derek morgan #Jennifer Jareau #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #david rossi #Criminal Minds

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spooks-and-tea · 4 years

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Entangled (Spencer Reid x femReader)

Summary: You don’t know how it happened. One moment you were watching Criminal Minds, and the next moment you were literally in the show. Can Spencer be the key to helping you find your way back home?

Warnings: minor character death, mentions of su*cide, bad explanations of quantum mechanics, sexual situations, the usual criminal minds-type content

A/N: wow I’ve been on this site for ages, nearly as long as Criminal Minds was on air, lol, but this is my first fic posted here. I plan to make this one into a few parts if people like it. If this has any relation to other fics it’s not intended. Literally just an idea that popped in my brain. I’ll also eventually add it to my wattpad .@ kittentastic

Word Count: 3,119

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11.

It was an average, lonely, autumn night. Halloween was nearing and you didn't have anywhere to be. Long estranged from the people you once called family, and friends, you were starting a new life in L.A.

Yeah, you were one of those small-town girls with big-city dreams. You wanted to be an actress, a dream your father had once encouraged. When he suddenly died, you had nothing left but a new step-mother who discouraged your dreams and was more than happy to disown you when you reached 18 years of age; a classic Cinderella story.

It had taken a while, getting yourself through university and saving up enough money to move out to L.A. Now you were 27 and living your dreams...partly. You worked at a coffee shop in Hollywood; a great way to meet people that could potentially cast you in a big production, but that plan had yet to come to fruition. Every audition would have someone else in mind for the part.

Today, you had finished yet another round of auditions for everything from small commercial bits to tv shows. You poured yourself a glass of red wine after finishing your microwavable meal-for-one dinner. Wine would always be your go-to drink after your dissappointing days, it was great at helping you sleep. You clicked on the tv and sipped your drink from your criss-crossed sitting position and soon found a Criminal Minds marathon that was just starting. It almost seemed like fate as tomorrow you had an audition lined up for the very same show.

You smiled as the bright, happy, Penelope Garcia came into the shot, followed by the rest of the BAU. You absentmindedly bit your lip as Dr. Spencer Reid came into frame.

Like a large percentage of the show's viewership, you found the handsome genius slipping into one or two of your fantasies. You may have daydreamed about the Dr. being a real person and walking into your workplace to order coffee and whisk you off your feet. You may have also woken up from a few dreams involving the handcuffs he was currently restraining an unsub with.

You wondered if you would get the part. Would it be odd having to pretend this dream-man was real? You'd hope you could contain your blushing around Matthew at least.

You finished your drink and stretched out on the couch, already feeling your eyes growing heavy. You found your mind wandering as you grew more and more tired, hardly paying attention to the episode. The last thought you had before you drifted off was, "what if Spencer Reid was a real person?"

Bright lights of assorted colors and shapes danced behind your tired eyes. You felt a tugging sensation that seemed to pull you from your core. It felt warm and safe, like it wanted to protect you. A hum grew louder and louder in your ear canal, followed by a crackling wind. It was like an electric storm. The smell of coffee and a woodsy vanilla filled whatever place you were in. It was odd, you knew this, but you weren't scared. Something told you this was right. Your body began to rise higher and higher until a loud snap echoed around you, shattering your surroundings.

"Whoa, sleeping on the job now Y/N? Did someone tire you out last night?" A woman's voice broke through the fog as your mind caught up with you.

Wait, am I still dreaming? That voice...it sounds like...

"Pretty Boy, you wanna check her for a pulse?"

And that is definitely...

"I-I don't think that's necessary."

You slowly lifted your head and opened your eyes wide. Your blurred vision slowly grew used to the bright indoor lighting. Your eyes widened as you saw none other than JJ, Morgan, and Reid. Yes, the fictional characters were standing in front of you.

How was this even possible? You had to be dreaming, or maybe you were forgetting and you were at a very strange audition. Yes, that had to be it, logically.

"Good morning Sleeping Beauty. Rough night? I didn't think Reid's Doctor Who nights were that wild, I might have to tag along and chaperone you two next time." Morgan greeted with a teasing smirk.

"How late did you two go for last night?" JJ asked, leaning against the desk that you had been sleeping on, and sipping her coffee.

She directed the question to you, but you didn't remember this dialogue in the audition script. When you didn't answer, Spencer spoke up.

"She texted me when she got home safe at 9:43pm. I made sure she left early as the rain was starting up. Now, of course, she could have stayed up longer, but we continued to exchange texts until she texted me goodnight at 10:15pm."

"Goodnight texts? Remind me and JJ here why you two aren't dating again?" Morgan crossed his arms looking between you and Spencer.

You blinked, taking a chance to finally look around. There were no cameras in sight. Above you was a tiled ceiling with office lighting. No directors or normal-looking crew members were around.

"Matthew?" You asked, directing your question to a stuttering, red-faced Reid.

Everyone turned their attention back to you. Reid, or Matthew, raised his eyebrow at you. And turned to look if anyone was standing behind him that you could be talking to.

"Who is Matthew, Y/N?" He asks, cautiously.

Oh my god. I must be dreaming.

You stood up and slowly reached out to Reid, who was standing closest to you. You gently poked his cheek. He looked almost afraid at your actions.

"Spencer?" You lower your shaky hand. He felt real, he was standing in front of you. You could smell his morning coffee.

"Yeah?"

"Pinch me."

"What? Why?"

"So I know that I'm not dreaming." You could feel his eyes prodding you, profiling.

"Maybe we should get you to a doctor-"

You grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on your upper arm.

"Pinch me. Hard."

Spencer winced as he did what you asked of him. He obviously did not want to hurt you. You felt your nerves fire off in pulses of pain where he pinched. You sharply inhaled and he immediately dropped his hand.

"Oh my god," you stammered, "ohmygodohmygodohmygod."

This is real. Spencer Reid is real.

You slid back down in your chair and looked at an open mouthed JJ and Morgan, staring at you in shock.

"What kind of kinky shit are you two into?" Morgan narrowed his eyes at Reid.

"This is no time for teasing Derek. I think she's suffering from a concussion." JJ reached out, concerned, feeling your forehead for a fever.

"She doesn't have any visible signs of bruising. Y/N do you remember hitting your head on anything, or experiencing whiplash today?" Reid, growing serious turned your chair towards him, raking his fingers through your hair to check your scalp for any tender spots.

For a moment you had to stop yourself from sighing, it just felt nice, and it was Spencer.

"No I'm-I'm fine, my head feels fine." You answered.

"What's the last thing you remember doing?"

You bit your lip, should you answer him truthfully? How would you even explain something so illogical.

"I-I remember. I fell asleep on the couch watching tv." In a different reality.

"Do you think it's possible you rolled off of the couch in your sleep?"

You frowned to yourself.

"It's possible."

It's never happened before, but you suppose it would explain things. This was definitely a hallucination. Maybe it was one of those Spencer-centric dreams.

"Spence, I think you should take Y/N to the hospital. I'll cover for you with Hotch." JJ suggested.

Spencer nodded in agreement while Morgan looked worriedly at you. JJ got up from the desk to seek out Hotch in his office.

"Do you have your keys?" Spencer asked, still looking you over.

"Um-" you checked your pockets and sure enough found a ring of keys in your pants pocket. You dropped them into Spencer's outstretched hand.

"Can you walk?" Spencer's voice went softer.

You shivered as you did whenever you heard that tone on the show. He could make a living doing ASMR with that voice.

You stood with Spencer's unneeded, but much appreciated, help. He seemed to have no problem holding your hands to help you, something you considered to be out of character for the germaphobic Dr. Reid. Then again, the show did not go this long without it's occasional inconsistencies. Was your subconscious hallucination really thinking these things out?

You followed him to the elevator with ease, taking in your surroundings as you went. As the elevator doors closed, Spencer frowned at you once again.

"Your pupils have been dilated since you woke up." He spoke.

Yeah probably because the attractive genius I've been dreaming of for years is vividly realistic and talking to me.

"Is that a sign of head trauma?"

"Actually yes, you could be experiencing a sensitivity to light as a result of your head trauma. If that's the case, then you're in luck because it's been raining all day."

You followed Spencer out to your car, or at least you thought it was your car. You didn't exactly own one before dropping into this hallucination world. You were saving up for one, but didn't really need it as you lived close to your job and took public transit when you needed to go further distances. This car was nice, you supposed the dream BAU job payed well.

Spencer drove you to the hospital and waited in the waiting room as you received a full check up and MRI. You hoped he wasn't too bored waiting. As the doctor returned with your results you asked if Spencer could come in to hear the diagnosis. The doctor asked if he was family and you lied saying he was your fiancé. The doctor really didn't seem to care and Spencer was allowed in. He looked confident, prepared to discuss anything scientific that you may not understand yourself.

"Well Y/N, after reviewing your MRI scans and testing results, I can confidently assure you that you are perfectly healthy. We can order some blood tests for you if you wish, but from the concussion symptoms you thought you had, and from the results I have in front of me, I don't believe they are necessary." The doctor said with a smile, probably just happy to be delivering some good news.

"That can't be right." You shook your head and frowned.

"Y/N was clearly exhibiting fatigue, light sensitivity, memory loss, and confusion at work. If she's not concussed, what is wrong with her?" Spencer asked.

"I'd say your fiancé is simply experiencing the effects of exhaustion and a lack of sleep. My advice? Take her home and let her rest."

Spencer firmly shut his mouth as the doctor said "fiancé."

The doctor turned to you. "If you'd like, I can perscribe you a sleeping sedative."

You shook your head "no." You couldn't believe it; you'd slept at a reasonable hour, and you didn't feel fatigued.

Everything was starting to feel so real. The warmth of Spencer sitting so close to you felt real. The rain that fell on your skin felt real. The medicinal scent of the hospital made your feel sick. You could only think of one final way to try to wake up.

"Spencer can you stop somewhere for me?" You asked as he drove you home.

"Sure."

"Is there a lake near by?"

"Yeah...you don't remember? You've jogged on the trails near it with JJ and Morgan."

"Can you take me there? There's something I need to do."

You were beginning to grow used to the worried look on his face. The way his eyes softened reminded you of a puppy.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to you. If this was a dream concocted by your brain, wouldn't Spencer be a bit more romantic? In your dreams he could range from a hardcore, post-prison, genius, bad boy to a nerdy romantic, but he was always, obviously, interested in you right away. This Spencer seemed to be your friend, just your friend. By now he would've usually confessed his undying love and maybe taken you in the back seat of your car. Yeah, you weren't the most creative person. What kind of dream was this?

You felt a blush coming on as Spencer side-eyed you. Your brain would never torture you with a long-con, would it?

Spencer took you to the lake, walking beside you without a word, most likely thinking you were going crazy and in need of sleep. You walked to the edge of the trail and looked down at the lake. It was a ways down, the point you were standing was more like a cliff. You determined that the water must have been about a 6 second drop down for someone your size

"Y/N, why did you want me to take you out here?" Spencer asked as he eyed the waters below.

You stayed silent as you took a few steps back. You took a deep breath, and before you could second-guess yourself, you ran to the edge of the cliff and jumped.

"Y/N!" Was the last, panicked thing you heard before the body of water came rushing towards you.

Your body submerged in the icy cold water and sunk deep down from the speed at which you fell. All you could hear was the echoing pressure of the water against your eardrums. This was your last resort. You knew if anything could wake you up, it would be this, your biggest fear.

Your father had drowned, he worked on a fisherman's boat and a storm had overturned the ship far out in the ocean. All that had been recovered was assorted pieces of the ship's wreckage. You'd never even had the chance to learn how to swim as the fear had already settled in before your step-mother could arrange lessons.

If you could drown in this confusing dream-world, maybe you would wake up in time for your Criminal Minds audition.

Your lungs protested as you let yourself sink. You closed your eyes and let your muscles relax. Your head screamed at you, telling you that you absolutely should not be doing this. Fear prickled at your skin. Why did this feel like you were actually dying?

A heartbeat later, you heard the water's surface explode above you, but you didn't have the strength to look up. Your brain processed something wrapping around you and tugging you up, but you could not open your eyes to see what it was. You held on to your last bit of consciousness as you breeched the surface of the water and felt the chilly air assault your skin.

Arms pulled you somewhere. Your body was dragged up something solid, the backs of your legs scraped against rocks. It must have been land. Hands applied pressure, pushing like a heartbeat against your center, you could hardly feel it. A hand held your mouth open while another pinched your nose closed. Lips pushed, rushed, against your own as air was forced back into you. The hand left your mouth and returned to pumping.

"Come on. Come back to me Y/N. Please." Pleading followed by more air.

The strange entity repeated the process once more before you felt everything come up, forcing you back to reality.

You coughed and choked up water and bile; the rain washed it all away. Your lungs were aching and your skin was ice cold. The only warmth was what lingered from the person's lips. A hand pat and rubbed your back, helping you cough up everything. When it was all over your whole body was shivering. Your muscles gave out and a pair of arms wrapped around you, holding you up.

"Y/N."

You weakly turned your head.

Spencer. He's still here. He's really here.

He was soaked, hair ringlets stuck to his face, and his eyes were rimmed red. He looked like an angel, hand carved by Michelangelo himself.

Your brain was trying to catch up with his words.

"Y/N, I need to get you back to the car before we both go into hypothermia. Can you walk?" He asked through chattering teeth.

Your throat was killing you, so you opted for just shaking your head "no" in response.

"I'll have to carry you then, okay?"

You nodded, doubtful he could, especially in his weakened state.

He stood, grabbing his bearings before scooping you up. You weakly held his neck and lay your head on his shoulder. Your pain was numbed, you knew, from the biting cold.

Spencer managed to carry you all the way back to the car, placing you gently in the backseat and turning the heat all the way up. He climbed in the backseat with you and began to remove his jacket and tie.

"We have to remove our clothes, they're soaking wet and we have to warm up. Do you need me to help you undress?" There was no hint of teasing or slyness in Spencer's voice. He was completely serious and you knew he was right.

"I-I can't. Everything is numb." You managed to croak out, wincing at the pain it brought your throat.

"Alright, um- I'll only remove your shirt and pants."

You nodded, weakly.

Spencer removed his own shirt before carefully lifting yours over your head. He made sure to keep his eyes on your face as much as possible and not linger his gaze anywhere else. Next he removed your shoes, socks, and peeled your pants down your legs. You managed to arch your back slightly to help him. Lastly, he removed his own pants and threw all the clothes in a pile on the floor of you car.

"I'm going to hold you now, if that's alright. We need each other's body heat." Spencer looked less confident now. You managed to nod a "yes."

If you weren't so close to death, you knew your brain would be shorting out at the thought of being held by a half-naked, and very real, Spencer Reid.

He helped you lay down across the seats and settled in next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed his hands along your shoulders and back in an effort to warm you and massage your tensed muscles.

A few minutes of this went by before you could finally move. You wrapped your arms around Spencer, holding him close as his body warmed your own, and you cried against his chest.

One thought repeated over and over again in your head.

This is real.

You worked for the BAU and Spencer Reid had just saved your life.

Next Chapter

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #fanfiction #drama #romance #cm

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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

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Deleted Scene: Gateway Drug | "Shout at the Devil" -- 1986

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Our skin is sweaty and sticky, the heat of the fire from the fireplace filling the living room while me and Nikki just got done working on our own methods of keeping each other warm.

Nikki's leaning his head up against the bottom of the couch, my cheek against his abdomen, looking up at him.

His eyeliner is running slightly from sweating, the light from the fire the only thing lighting the house, casting a glow over him, his grin wide as we catch our breaths.

"Okay," he starts, taking a sip of white wine and I pull the blanket over my chest.

"Okay," I repeat, his free hand coming down to slide over my shoulder to nestle at the nape of my neck, in my hair.

"Confession time." He starts.

"Oh, dear." I rub my face and he chuckles.

"I'll go first but you have to promise you won't think differently of me." He tells me.

"Promise." I assure him, nervous.

"Back when I was, like, eighteen, me and my buddy Lizzie--who was in London with me at the time--we worked in telemarketing trying to sell light bulbs." He explains and I raise my brows.

"Light bulbs?"

"Fucking sucked." He adds. "Anyway, we got a little commission off of it and it was the most grueling job I've ever fucking had, right? Well, we decided we could sell light bulbs ourselves and pocket the money."

"Nikki." I chuckle and he does, too.

"So, we came up with "G.E.D."--General Electric Distribution--and we had jumpsuits and hats with G.E.D. on it and Lizzie got a magnet for his car with G.E.D. on it." He says and I rub my forehead. "We bought a pack of the cheapest tube bulbs, shit broke-cheap." He explains. "And we called a random company and said G.E.D was calling their manager back on replacing their bulbs. Well, these people would go with it thinking we were scheduled to come replace their light bulbs. So, we went and Lizzie would replace them, and we'd replace them with the shitty ones and box the nice ones we took out, and promised them the bulbs would work for ten years, I had a calculator and was calculating bullshit and telling them that they were cutting their electric bill by 30% with the new bulbs we put in."

My stomach hurts from how much I'm laughing by this point, my hands covering my face.

"And then we'd call another company and take them the bulbs we had gotten from the previous client and take their bulbs and give it to someone else's business." He finishes and I wipe the tears from my eyes from trying to hold back my laughter.

I can imagine Nikki with a calculator, pretending to crunch some numbers to figure out how much someone is saving on their electric bill monthly.

"That's awful." I tell him and he swigs from his drink, smirking.

"Your turn." He pats my hair.

"For what?"

"Something you've done." He tells me. "Preferably something naughty that you've done to yourself while I haven't been here." He adds and I roll my eyes.

"I demonstrated that earlier." I remind him, hitting his leg.

"Okay, okay, seriously, what shitty jobs have you had?" He asks and I just stay quiet, rubbing my lips together.

"I've never had a job." I admit.

"What?" He sounds like he wasn't expecting it.

"I never had one." I repeat. "My mom wanted me to stay focused on dance and school in high school so I never got one, and then I moved in with you right after graduation and that changed a lot, so…"

"You never had a job? Not even a little summer job or something?"

"I babysat a couple times but that doesn't really count as a job because I like kids, so."

"You like kids?" He asks me, looking slightly taken back.

"Yeah...you don't?"

"I don't have a problem with kids." He tells me, drinking more. "I just don't know if I want any."

"Nikki, we got married because I thought I was pregnant." I remind him.

"I'm not saying if you got pregnant I'd want you to get rid of it or leave you or something but...I don't know. I guess the shit with my dad I just have this thing about having kids. I don't want to fuck them up the way I was." He tells me.

"I'm not your mom, you're not your dad, our kids will be fine." I assure him with a smile.

"Well, what about your folks? Your mom is batshit for Jesus. What if you're like her?" He asks me.

"If I were like my mom I wouldn't have even dated you, let alone married you." I chuckle.

"Bullshit, Sixx." He tells me.

"It's not bullshit." I argue.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you're not gonna have our kids in church every Sunday morning." He states and I lick my lips to hide my grin. "Uh huh, and that's where I put my foot down and say, 'you're not brainwashing my kids'."

"Christianity is not brainwashing." I tell him.

"Vivian, you talk to the air and expect it to do stuff." He chuckles.

"It's called having faith." I reply, not taking a word he's saying seriously. "And I'll have our kids in church until they decide whether they want to choose to believe in God or not--not that church has anything to do with God to begin with--but still…" I mumble and he just looks down at me, smirking, before he starts chuckling.

"You're so full of shit." He tells me. "It's sexy, though." He adds.

"I hate you." I roll my eyes and sit up, about to stand but he grabs my hand and pulls me to him, causing me to straddle him.

"You're full of shit." I bite back to him, his arm wrapping around me, his lips pressing to the wine bottle again, a drop of it rolling down his chin and he goes to wipe it away but I lick it up greedily and he digs his fingers into my back, pressing his lips to mine with a hum, our tongues meeting for a moment before I pull away.

"So no church?" I ask him, my fingernail lightly tracing over the tattoo on his chest.

"No church." He replies.

"Not even for Christmas and Easter?"

"We won't even celebrate Christmas and Easter." He states, and I know he's just fucking with me, now.

"Oh, really?"

"Any celebrations we have are gonna be sacrifices to Satan." He says next.

"Shut up." I tilt my head back and laugh, and he drinks more wine.

"Speaking of...you know something else I need to get off my chest?" He asks next.

"Do I want to know?"

He takes yet another sip of wine before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and putting the bottle aside, both of his hands running up and down the back of my ribs.

"I was still fucking around with weird shit when we got married." He tells me.

"Hence the car accident that should've killed you and my never ending depression episode that lasted nearly three months." I reply.

"Yeah, I kinda backed off of it after that." He informs me casually and I chuckle.

"All while on your, 'it's 'Shout at the Devil' not 'with the Devil' bullshit." I mimic him.

"It was so 'Shout with the Devil,' the record label just wouldn't let that fly." He and I both laugh, but his expression changes a little and he runs his thumb over my lip.

"When we do have kids...a long, long, long, long, long, long, long, time from now," he starts and I wince internally because we're already supposed to have some running around and he has no idea. "If you want them to grow up in church and decide when they're a little older what they want, that's perfectly fine with me." He admits and I furrow my brows a little.

"What? This coming from the one who sneers at the mere mention of God?" I ask, referring to him.

"I know the number your mom did on you really hurt you, and I know you won't push anything on our's they don't want to be a part of, so…" he adds. "...I don't know, I guess I just trust you not to be a psychotic slut for Jesus and take it out on our kids or whatever."

"How sweet." I say, again, sarcastically, and he cuts his eyes at me.

"I'm about to bend you over my knee and just…" he grabs at my sides, tickling me, and I screech, trying to jerk away, and he pushes me back to the floor and tackles me, pinning my hands above my head with one hand while tickling at me with the other.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I call, trying to get some relief.

He stops, laughing at me, before pressing his lips to my chest, up to my neck, and finally my lips, my arms snaking around his back, my legs hooking around his waist.

He pulls away for a moment, resting on his forearms on either side of my head, his hands running through the roots of my hair, his pretty eyes looking down at me, making a smile come to my lips.

"Thank you," I tell him, about not making a big deal about me wanting our kids to go to church until they decide they don't want to anymore.

He just smiles and presses a kiss to my lips, then my cheek, then starts peppering them all over my face, making me giggle.

#gateway drug

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thatsamericano · 4 years

Text

Temptation Is Not An Island (But Alfred Wouldn’t Be Tempted Anyway)

Pairing/Characters/Genre: America/Romano that is probably one-sided at this point, with an appearance from Canada. Cankraine and Romano/an OMC are mentioned. This is a human AU.

Rating/Warnings: Rated Teen. Warnings for discussion of infidelity and briefly depicted unhealthy alcohol use.

Word Count: 2003

Summary: The day before Valentine’s Day, Alfred is hanging out with his brother and watching reality TV to distract himself the fact that Savino is probably doing something romantic with his boyfriend. But when his best friend suddenly shows up at his apartment out of the blue, Alfred’s February 13th plans change.

Notes: Written for @hetaliancupid-hetaliaevent‘s Day 6 prompt, Hug.

Alfred was not looking forward to Valentine’s Day this year. Part of it was that he was single as hell. He’d accepted that he was on the aromantic and asexual spectrums a while ago, but Valentine’s Day always made him feel weird, like he was supposed to have a romantic partner because that’s what society expected of him. This year he was particularly lonely because his best friend Savino, the only person he’d ever had romantic feelings for, would be spending the day with his stupid boyfriend Nathaniel. Nathaniel had always rubbed Alfred the wrong way, and not just because he was jealous of his relationship with Vinny (though that was admittedly part of the problem). Alfred had tried to be friendly to the guy, but he could tell Nathaniel was only bothering to acknowledge Alfred’s existence because Vinny was around. He wouldn’t even let Alfred give him a nickname and insisted on being called Nathaniel in full. Alfred thought Savino could do loads better. If he didn’t want to be with Alfred, he could at least be with someone who wasn’t such a complete tool.

Matthew knew that Alfred would be having a hard time this year, so he came over on February 13th to spend some quality time with his brother. He would obviously be spending the next day with his girlfriend Kateryna, and Alfred didn’t begrudge him that. It was really nice of Mattie to come over so close to Valentine’s Day and try to cheer him up. Watching reruns of Temptation Island wasn’t normally Matthew’s idea of a good time, but he put up with it because Alfred wanted to watch a silly reality show instead of thinking about whatever Savino was doing with his boyfriend.

They were in the middle of an episode when, out of nowhere, they suddenly heard a strange noise at the front door of the apartment. It sounded like someone was trying to get in, but that didn’t make sense. Alfred had never bothered to change the locks after Vinny moved out to live with his boyfriend, but there was no way he should be here right now.

Vinny shoved open the door, dropped a duffle bag by the entrance, and then slammed the door shut behind him. “You know I kept reminding you to change the fucking locks, but I guess it’s a good thing you were too lazy to do that. Where the hell do you keep your wine?”

Alfred was baffled, to say the least. “I, uhh… don’t think I even have wine anymore? I’m pretty sure you took it all when you moved out, and I’m not much of a drinker. But there’s some beer in the fridge. Gil left it when he came over a few days ago.”

“Fine. I’ll have the albino bastard’s beer.” He stomped over to the kitchen, obviously in a foul mood, and Matthew put the TV on mute and leaned over to whisper to his brother.

“Didn’t you say he’d be with his boyfriend right now?”

Alfred nodded. “I thought he would be.”

Matthew frowned thoughtfully. “I think something bad must’ve happened with him and Nathaniel. Savino is acting a lot more pissed off than normal.”

Alfred sighed. “I think you’re right, Mattie. I’ll go talk to him and see what it is.”

When he got to the kitchen, Savino was slugging down a bottle of Gilbert’s expensive, imported German beer like it was water and he’d just gone on a five-mile run in the August heat.

Alfred cautiously approached him. “Wow, I… uh, didn’t know you liked beer so much, dude.”

“I don’t,” Savino snapped. “I just needed something to wash out the taste of my boyfriend fucking cheating on me like the lowlife sack of shit he is.”

Alfred’s face fell. “Vinny—”

Savino set the beer down on the counter so he could use both hands to gesture as he ranted. “You saw us together, Alfredo. Tell me, did I strike you as a bad boyfriend? Did I mistreat or neglect Nathaniel in any way?”

“No, no you didn’t.” Savino had been affectionate and loving towards Nathaniel, so much so that it could turn Alfred’s stomach at times. The envy he’d felt, and that hopeless wish to be in Nathaniel’s place, was what had clued Alfred in to the fact he didn’t just see Vinny as a friend. But by the time he had figured that out, Alfred couldn’t say anything because Savino was happy and he and Nathaniel were in a serious, committed relationship. He couldn’t say anything then, and he definitely couldn’t say anything now after Savino had just had his heart broken.

Mostly, he felt immense sympathy towards Savino, which is the emotion one should feel when a friend’s boyfriend turns out to be a disloyal asshole. But there was a tiny piece of Alfred’s heart that found Savino’s complicated hand gesturing cute, even though that was a completely inappropriate thing to notice in this situation.

“Then tell me why the fuck that testa di minchia decided to start sexting another guy!” Savino shouted. “And then he had the nerve to get angry at me for ‘snooping’ through his phone! I only checked because I happened to see a suspicious message pop up on the screen while he was out of the room! Can you believe that bullshit?!”

“It was totally normal for you to check his phone if you saw something weird,” Alfred said. “He shouldn’t have been sexting with someone else anyway.” Seriously, what the hell was wrong with Nathaniel? Couldn’t he keep it in his pants for five goddamn minutes, especially when he had someone like Savino to come home to? Alfred would give anything to have the relationship with Savino that Nathaniel had so carelessly disregarded, and he would never even think of cheating. He had never really understood why people would feel tempted to cheat, because Vinny was the only person he’d ever been attracted to that way. That’s why he had decided to watch Temptation Island, because a bunch of horny, straight allosexuals who couldn’t keep it in their pants was weirdly amusing to him.

But he was far from amused when someone he cared about got cheated on. He could tell that Savino was deeply hurt by his boyfriend’s betrayal, even if he was trying to conceal it by pretending he only felt outrage.

“I just… I can’t figure out why he’d do that to me. If he was unhappy, he should’ve said something or just dumped me! That would have been so much better than this.” Savino looked away, but not before Alfred noticed tears forming in his beautiful hazel eyes. “I hate him. I hate him so goddamn much.”

Alfred stepped in closer and opened up his arms in invitation. “C’mere, Savi.”

Savino hugged him, burying his head in Alfred’s shoulder and squeezing his arms around him tightly. Alfred returned the embrace and started to rub gentle circles over Savino’s trembling shoulder blades, and that made him break down into heartbroken sobs.

“That fucker knew! He knew the issues I have with my self-esteem, and then he went and fucked somebody else! I loved him, and he made me feel like a pile of stinking garbage!”

Alfred glared past Savino at the kitchen cabinets, but in his mind, he was glaring at the shithead who dared to make his best friend cry. “Want me to kill him for you?”

Savino laughed, even though Alfred hadn’t been entirely joking. (Murder was pretty extreme, but he wouldn’t mind beating the shit out of Nathaniel to teach him a lesson.) “That’s okay. I broke his phone while I was screaming at him. Not on purpose, but when he tried to defend himself, I was so goddamn furious I threw it to the ground and stomped on it. He seemed pretty scared of me after that. I don’t think he’ll be bothering me again.”

Alfred smirked a little at how badass Savi had been. Woe to anyone who betrayed his trust the way Nathaniel had.

“In that case, I’m just gonna keep holding you until you’re ready for me to let go.” Honestly, if the circumstances were better, Alfred wouldn’t mind holding Savino like this for the rest of his life. His body ran a little warmer than average, he smelled like an Italian herb garden mixed with expensive cologne, and the size difference made him fit perfectly into Alfred’s arms. Alfred liked hugging anyone he was reasonably close to, but he’d never enjoyed hugging anyone else as much as he did Savino.

“I’m not done yet. I’m feeling pretty worthless, and I’m not ready to face the world yet.” But his heavy sobs had already softened into gentle weeping, so he would probably let go soon. “I think I got snot on your shirt. Sorry about that.”

“Eh, that’s okay. I got it from Walmart, so it’s not like you have to worry about ruining something that cost a lot of money.”

Savino chuckled, and then he lifted his head away from Alfred’s shoulder with a hint of a smile. “Good thing you’re such a cheapskate then.”

“Guess so.” Alfred just didn’t care much about clothing. He had a few more expensive things in his closet that he wore if he had to be somewhere fancy, but when he was at home, he preferred t-shirts and jeans. He prioritized comfort over fashion.

Savino started to pull away, and Alfred dropped his arms, ignoring the pang of regret that accompanied his absence. “Is it okay if I spend the night here? I don’t exactly have a place to stay right now since I obviously won’t be living with my ex anymore.”

“You can move back in,” Alfred told him. “I didn’t get another roommate, so your room’s still available. And to be honest, I kind of missed having you around.” More like pined pathetically for the days they used to live together, but Savino didn’t need to know that right now.

“I kind of missed living with you too, idiota.” He sighed and glanced in the direction of the living room. “We probably need to go out there and let Matthew know what’s going on, huh?”

“I think he might have overheard everything. You were yelling pretty loud.”

“I did,” Matthew confirmed from the other room. “I’m sorry your boyfriend cheated on you, Savino. It wasn’t right.”

“Thanks,” Savino replied. He picked up his beer and started to walk out to the living room, and Alfred followed him.

Matthew had gotten off the couch, which would be too small to fit three people, and sat down in a nearby armchair. He shot Savino a sympathetic look as they entered the room, and Savino sat down on the couch. Alfred took a seat right next to him, and Savino sipped at his beer, but a more normal, less concerning rate.

“Do you want to watch something on TV? It might help you get your mind off things.”

Savino shrugged. “I don’t have enough energy to focus on a complex plotline. You can watch whatever the fuck you want.”

Alfred picked up the remote, turned the sound back on, and quickly switched to a news channel. Savi had said he could watch whatever he wanted, but a reality show about people “testing” their relationships and frequently hooking up with attractive strangers would be incredibly insensitive after what Savi had just gone through.

After a bit of browsing, he settled on one of those cooking competition shows he knew Savino enjoyed. Thirty minutes into the program, Savino had gotten invested enough to start pointing out the mistakes the contestants were making and talking to the television as if it could respond to his commands. Alfred exchanged an amused, fond glance with Mattie, who grinned at him. He knew Savino wasn’t all better and that he would need time to get over Nathaniel, but Alfred was glad to see Savino acting a little more like his normal self.

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