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Heatstroke | Max Verstappen
WC: 2.6K
Max x Platonic!Driver!reader, Grid x Driver!reader
Summery: When you made the switch to Formula 1, no one told you how bad the Qatar GP can be
Warning: Heatstoke??
Masterlist
Max Masterlist
y/n y/f/n, is a name that’s been making headlines for months now. When the rumours first started everyone thought they were just, that, rumours. But in F1 rumours don’t just come out of thin air, especially ones like this. Red Bull is changing their line up and they’re bringing in a female? A woman whose already in her mid-20s. A NASCAR driver, a runner up for the drivers’ championship three times. Not many switch from other series to Formula, the other way around. Yes. So, it’s a rumour everyone presumed.
But why are there photos of you in Milton Keynes? Why is Max suddenly following you on Instagram? Why is your NASCAR team not posting you on their social media anymore? How come it’s already the winter break and no confirmation on who will be take the empty seat in the Red Bull team?
You ignored your social media, since someone leaked your move from NASCAR to F1. You stopped caring a long time ago, stopped looking a long time ago. A long life in motorsports taught you not to care. The life of a female in motorsports is not easy even now in the 21st century. Female fans have it hard, female presenters have it hard, female mechanics have it hard, and certainly female drivers have it hard. But it only made you stronger and your skin thicker.
When Red Bull finally announced that you’d be the one driving for them in the new season, they were met with both positive and negative response. You’re an enigma coming into the sport. No one’s seen you in a Formula 1 car before, or a car in the feeder series. But you did start in karting and your records are still unbroken.
While everyone was enjoying their winter break, you spent it training in the gym, on the sim, and in previous F1 cars. No time to spare, to get you ready for the new season. A season Red Bull has high hopes for.
You were able to meet Max a few times since you joined the team, but he was mostly off enjoying his break. Only by the time the preparations for the new season that he’s actually got to know you. Surprisingly to many, you and Max got on well with each other. Max instantly took a liking to you, you may be not that much younger than him, but he saw you as a younger sister. Max also did his homework while he was on vacation and watched many of your races in NASCAR and he was impressed, he couldn’t wait for you to race in F1. Like his team, he thinks your experience will bring in a fresh eye to the sport and to the team.
The pre-season practice was the first time you met the rest of the grid. Everyone has been pleasant and nice; Lewis Hamilton had a long talk with you about your experience in motorsports as a female and he shared some of his challenges being the only black man in the history of the sport. It was such a long and deep talk; the 7 times world champion gave you his number and promised to chat more later.
Max pulled you to the talking circle he was having, he was talking to Lando, Carlos and Charles. You loved how much he tried to include you in on everything, make you feel welcome.
It was the Qatar Grand Prix, a race almost everyone hated, just for the fact that it’s one of, if not the, hottest races on the calendar. You had no idea how hot it could get, but the team tried to pred you as much as they could. FP1-3 were hard when you were doing long runs, it got hot in the cockpit. You’re thankful they decided to not have a sprint this year. You had no idea how you’ll manage in the actual race. Water was your friend since FP1.
“How do you handle all that heat?” You asked Max, as you laid on a sofa on the side of the debriefing room, he was on a chair as if he wasn’t just in the car melting.
“Lots of water and eat whatever I’m given.” Max said sipping on his cold-water bottle. “Didn’t you train for the heat after the last race?”
“I did, but it’s still nothing like the real thing.” You mumbled, Max patted your knee in sympathy.
“Hey, you did good though, starting P2 tomorrow.” Max tried to cheer you up, you gave a weak smile.
“Okay, everyone here?” You sat up from the sofa and moved to your chair for the meeting.
The race was too long in your opinion, definitely one of the hardest races you had to do in your career. How can it be so hot at night, the humidity was killing you.
“No one said it’ll be this hard before I joined.” You complain through your radio, something you don’t usually do, since the media likes to call you whiney and used as an excuse as to why women shouldn’t be in Formula 1.
“Thought you might change your mind.” Your engineer teased and you sighed.
“I might’ve.” You joked back, knowing you wouldn’t, sweat was dripping everywhere. “How many laps left?”
“16, hang in there and drink water.”
“You mean tea, it’s so hot, still don’t get why you couldn’t throw cold water on me.” You had a gap between you and George Russel in P4 behind you and you were closing in on Lando in front of you. You were getting closer lap after lap. He undercut you earlier in the race and now you’re 2 seconds behind him.
“Maybe next time… gap to Norris 1.4.”
The next 5 laps were hard, you managed to overtake Lando, but it took so much out of you.
“Okay, just keep your head down.” Your race engineer said, and it took a few seconds for you to register what he was saying and a few more to answer him.
“Okay.” Your voice was breathy and weaker than earlier.
“Almost there.” He encouraged you; you hummed and did your best to keep the lead you have on Lando now, you’re in clean air, no car in sight in front of you.
“How many laps?” You asked but stopped talking as you felt like you’d throw up if you talked more.
“2 more, drink water even if it’s hot.”
You didn’t respond, there was no more water, it was too hot, but you drank and sweated everything already. The last lap felt so long, your car slowed down just slightly, but not enough for Lando to catch up with you.
“Well done y/n, that’s P2!” Your engineer cheered and you smiled weakly proud of yourself for finishing the race.
“Yay.” That was the weakest yay you’ve ever said. The in lap seemed like it took so long. Max and Lando were already parked. You closed your eyes and rested your head back, you had zero energy, moving seemed like torture. You slowly opened your eyes and took out your wheel placing it on the car.
Max after celebrating with the team, turned to look at you, only to see you still in the car. He frowned and moved back to where your car is parked next to his. He could see you moving a little which gave him little comfort.
“Hey, you, okay?” Max had removed his helmet already, his face was flushed red.
“Too tired.” You mumbled and Max strained his ears to hear what you said.
“I’ll help you out.” Max said he reached into your car and unbuckled your seatbelts. “Can you stand?”
You gave a weak nod and put your hands on the sides of the cockpit and tried to pull yourself up, but your legs were shaky, Max placed his hand on your waist to try and steady you.
“Get her a cold water.” Max told one of the Red Bull mechanics that came for the car, you leaned on the halo pretty heavily, Max put his other hand on your waist as well when you lifted your leg to hop over. You placed on of your hands on Max’s shoulder and moved your legs over the halo, before you just sat down on the car, placing your feet on the ground, this took more time than it needed to and much harder than it should’ve. “Raise your head.”
Max leaned down and unbuckled your helmet before he slowly removed it. Your balaclava was next, putting them beside you he could finally see your flushed face, loose hair sticking to your skin. The mechanic opens the bottle for you, and you take it gratefully from him, the cold water is a shock to your skin, but it offered a much-needed reprieve from the heat. You sipped slowly, feeling better now that you drank cold water. Max was watching you with hawk eyes.
“Come on we need to get weighed.” Max told you after you drank most of the water bottle. You nodded, and turned to put the wheel back in but max took it from you and hocks it back up. Your focus isn’t really that good at the moment, so you don’t notice Max walking behind you, ready to catch you if you stumble. You’re too tired to run to your team, but while Lando gets interviewed you walk up to them, you get patted on the back softly. It’s obvious how much this race had taken out of you. You’re still flushed, and sluggish.
“y/n, welcome to Qatar.” Jensen said once you stood in front of him, you offered him the best smile you could, but it wasn’t that big. “First season in Formula 1, you’re second in Qatar how would you rank this week amongst the ones you’ve done so far?”
“Uh, hardest, definitely the hardest.” You answer, all the lights shinning and the screens around aren’t helping with the heat.
“But you did amazing over taking Lando and getting second place, did you expect this coming into the weekend?” Jensen asked feeling sympathetic towards you.
“Well, um, I expected to do well before the race, during the race I wasn’t so sure, but I knew I just had to push through it for the team.” You said and the team cheered you on, you felt like they were farther than they were, your hearing coming and going. Jensen asked you his last question before you were free to go. You felt like your body was on auto piolet. Moving away from the cameras and in the direction of the cool down room. Once you were next to a wall you leaned on it, your trainer was by your side in a second.
“You need to sit down for a moment.” He told you, and in the middle of the hallway he helped you down, you just did as you were told. He unzipped your suit and pulled it down to your waist. Somone handed him a water bottle, he put some on his hand and patted your cheeks to cool you down. “We need an ice vest.” Someone rushed away, you just closed your eyes head on the wall. “Here, drink more.”
You sat there for a minute, before Max rushed over, he just finished his interview.
“Are you okay? Is she okay?” Max asked you before turning to your trainer, he crouched down to your height to have a closer look. “She should head to the medics.”
“No, no, it’s alright, I just needed a moment.” You said opening your eyes to look at your teammate.
“y/n, don’t p-“
“I’m fine, Max, I swear.” You say and put your hands on the floor and push yourself up, you lean on the wall for a moment, before you give Max a pleading look, he sighs and gestures for you to move in front of him. You walk into the cooldown room, and Lando is sitting alone.
“What? Did you have the debrief or something?” Lando asked jokingly, he had a cold water bottle pressed to his face.
“Yeah, talked about how to take you out of the race next time.” You joked and sat on the floor, not even trying to sit in your chair.
You didn’t slip your suit back on for the podiums, leaving the top part hanging by your waist. Your movements were still slow, but you managed to smile and celebrate a little with the other two drivers. You were the first person off the stage and instantly a cooling vest was slipped over your head, you were still hot. Max ran down the stairs after you.
He saw you stumble a little, you had to go to the medical centre. Max knew you well enough to know that if he asked you, you’d brush it off. But he got what he wanted one way or another. So, the reigning world champion came up behind you and just scooped you up. You gasped and wrapped your arms around his neck instantly.
“Max! what are you doing?”
“Taking you to the medical centre, and no you’re not fine.” You looked at your trainer over his shoulder, but one look at him and you saw that he agreed with Max.
Let’s say Max was right, you had a heatstroke and were on the verge of passing out. You missed the debrief much to your displeasure. The doctor gave you a list of things to do and not to do with your trainer by your side. The moment you were in your hotel room, you rushed to the bathroom to shower. The cold water feeling amazing on your skin, the AC was on. You just wore a tank top and a pair of boxer shorts to bed. And sleep you did. You really needed that sleep.
You woke up the next morning to knocking on your door, you groggily got up groaning as you did. Opening the door, you saw Max and Kelly. They’re both in casual clothes, smiling at you.
“Hey, what’s up? It’s too early.” You greeted them opening the door more for them to enter.
“It’s past 12.” Max informed you.
“Oh.”
“How are you feeling?” Kelly asked you and placed her hand on your skin to see if you’re still radiating heat or not. Max had informed her of your state last night, and from the glimpses she managed to see of you she knew you were feeling the heat.
“Better.” You smiled at her kindness, since you and Max have gotten close, you and Kelly also have formed a friendship.
“We ordered room service to your room.” Kelly told you; you thanked the couple. You threw on an oversized shirt on top of your clothes before you joined them, they had the small sofa for themselves, so you took the comfy armchair. “You did amazing yesterday, y/n.”
“Thank you, wish I felt as good as I did.” You complained and sighed.
You three talked about everything and nothing in particular. When the food arrived, you knew that Max has spoken to your trainer, because it was all the foods that the doctor suggested for you to eat. You drank to glasses of juice and a bottle of water as well. Keeping hydrated was on the top of the list.
“Who are you going back with to the UK?” Max asked, he would’ve loved if you’d moved to Monaco, but after joining the team you moved closer to the factory in the UK.
“Oscar and Fernando has to go to the factory so we’re taking his jet.” You informed him and he looked satisfied with your answer.
“Just take care of yourself.”
“Sure, dad, I will.”
“Hey!”
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here's what I've learned to never pay full price for, because people are giving these items away for free or almost free on Craigslist, Nextdoor, Facebook, at Goodwill, and on eBay (which has a local pickup section) in every sufficiently populated location in the USA.
cost of acquiring these items ranges from "carrying it home from the sidewalk" to "getting a friend with a car to help you pick it up" which is the same amount of effort as going to IKEA for worse quality that costs more, with the notable exception of it being a pain in the ass to coordinate with craigslist sellers, and you often have to wait and watch for what you want to actually show up. it took me about a year to find an acceptable gamer chair left out on the sidewalk, for example. but they cost $100+ new, so I chose to wait.
a lot of this stuff is the kind of thing you don't necessarily intend to keep, just to use in transitional housing or until you can afford a better one.
1. printers of any kind. basic office inkjets are free. ink is easily refillable or has generic ink cartridges way cheaper than brand name for any inkjet up to about 2015, not sure how difficult the newer smart printers are to hack but there's no reason to own a newer one because printing technology has not improved since about 2005. you want a color laser for making zines and wheatpastes? it's on Craigslist RN and someone's mom is desperate to get rid of it
2. bedframes
3. desks
4. tables
5. chairs
6. bookshelves, nice oak bookshelves that don't bend like al dente spaghetti when you put books on them, are rotting on sidewalks rn because they didn't fit in someone's house. go get them
7. scanners. I find a working scanner by a dumpster at least once a quarter, and I don't pick them up because I already have one that I picked up from a dumpster years ago
8. hot tubs. everyone thinks they want a hot tub and that the maintenance and upkeep will be worth it, and they are wrong. Craigslist.
9. sofas, with the caveat that if you are in a bedbug region like New York State you need to be very confident in your bedbug screening skills
10. quality leather shoes. these last forever and are expensive new. eBay is best for these
11. plates, glassware, silverware. all of these are able to be sterilized to whatever standard you feel comfortable with but if you eat in restaurants you've already put a fork in your mouth that hundreds of people have drooled on so try not to fool yourself
12. televisions and computer monitors
13. houseplants. similar to the bedbug warning above, you need to screen these for pests like fungus gnats and mealybugs
14. dressers, wardrobes, china hutches, cabinets, chests of drawers, etc
15. mirrors
16. clothes hangers
17. moving boxes
18. mattresses to a certain extent. I don't like secondhand used mattresses but unstained, unused mattresses are surprisingly common, especially since the foam mail order mattress boom started and people keep getting told by the mattress companies to just get rid of/keep any mattresses they want to return for flaws or wrong sizes or whatever. bedbug warning on this obviously
19. sheets and towels. you gotta launder them obviously
20. basic clothing, especially for kids. normie type clothing is so numerous people often just throw them away because they can't get anyone to take them
21. kitchenware like cooking utensils and pots n pans. don't use chipped or scratched Teflon/nonstick if you can help it. everyone needs one basic steel chef knife, which can be sharpened and maintained indefinitely. people throw these away CONSTANTLY
22. household consumables like laundry soap and dish soap. people often accidentally buy the wrong brand, scent, or develop allergies and want to get rid of extra
23. pet supplies like collars, leashes, dog crates, litter boxes, litter itself, dog beds, toys, carriers, etc
24. medical equipment of all kinds. people who take care of all kinds of patients end up with tons of leftover, sealed, miscellaneous stuff when that person recovers or dies, and they often give it away. adult diapers, hospital beds, IV stands, crutches, walkers, wheelchairs, fracture boots and splints, knee braces, canes, catheter packs, ice packs, heat packs, sterile paper sheeting, gauze, slings, over-the-door stretching and rehab pulleys, mattress protectors, etc
25. washers and dryers, both the basic household cube type and the small twin tub or rock tumbler type. people upgrade these when the old ones are still working, just squeaky or a little weird or sometimes just old
26. vacuum cleaners. secondhand ones are sort of icky but you can get rid of the ickiness by wiping them down with a rag and isopropyl alcohol inside and out. use an exacto or utility knife to slice off the hair and string wrapped around the roller. buy a new filter on Amazon. people throw away vacuums that work perfectly all the time because they don't actually know how to clean them out or do maintenance. bedbug and pet hair warning obviously
27. microwaves
28. refrigerators
30. lamps
31. any kind of exercise equipment including stationary bikes, ellipticals and weights/weight benches
32. any kind of piano. there's a grand on my local Craigslist for free rn
33. scrap wood and lumber
34. pallets
35. wood shipping crates
36. newborn, toddler and baby equipment like breast milk pumps and storage, bottles, bottle racks, diapers, etc. anything a little guy will grow out of fast will end up being given away
37. air conditioners, humidifiers and dehumidifiers. these will be most numerous during their respective off seasons
list updated 2/13/24 based on recent Craigslist trawling
38. jars, both canning type jars and clean food jars like from pickled or jelly bought at the store
39. rugs. most of my rugs are sidewalk finds. rugs will almost always be dirty. a decent consumer grade rug cleaner costs under $100, it's cheaper to just buy one if you have the space to store it. flushing the scavenged rug with soap, hot water, vinegar, alcohol, etc will clean almost anything but huge bedbug and allergen warning on this item
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Grammys- C.S
summary: chris is singer!y/n plus one to the grammys, he can't help but be proud of her and her accomplishments.
cw: mild cursing, FLUFF
an: olivia rodrigo will be the fc for this but feel free to imagine who ever you'd like! also, i just love social media fics so much, this is also a social media fic!! it's a long one and it's officially my favorite thing i've ever written!!
masterlist
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Following the release of her second album. Y/n has been nominated for three awards at this years Grammys. She's been nominated for the following categories; Best Pop Album, Record of the Year, and Song of the Year. When Y/n had found out she was nominated for three Grammys she was over the moon. "Holy shit, Chris!" With Chris next to her, on their daily walk, they jumped up and down, Chris picked her up and spun her around and kissed her face. "I'm so proud of you!" Later that night, Y/n and the triplets went out for dinner to celebrate her nominations.
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y/n just uploaded to their story. (right)
Two years ago, she had won two Grammys for her debut album, one for Music Video of the Year, and Best New Artist. Unfortunately, Chris and her were only friends at the time so her plus one was her mom, which she was still excited to share that special moment with her, but Chris was happily watching at home with his brothers and other friends cheering her on. Luckily, this time Y/n asked Chris to be her plus one to this years Grammys. "Of course I will!" He said giddily. Later that week, Y/n's manager had called her and told her she was invited to perform. "Are you serious? I- yea!" When she hung up and squealed and ran to Chris who was brushing his teeth. "Chris, you'll never guess what happened!"
It was the night before the Grammys and Y/n's team booked her and Chris a hotel room close to the arena where the Grammys were going to be held. "Do you want to go out for dinner, baby?" Chris rubbed Y/n's shoulders as she laid on his chest, controller in hand flipping through the channels on the tv. "Please, I'm starving." She turned off the television and threw the controller somewhere on the bed.
Y/n cuddled Chris, moving on top of him to bury her face into his neck, placing a few light kisses along his skin. "You nervous for tomorrow?" She asked, lifting her head off to look at him. "No, I don't see a reason to be nervous." He giggled. "Just don't pick your nose, or do anything that will make you feel embarrassed on live, national television." She teased him. Y/n felt him tense under her. "Baby, you can say that. Now I'm starting to overthink." He whined. "I'm kidding" She laughed into his neck. "Come on, let's go to dinner." She patted his chest as she got off of him and made her way to the bathroom.
At dinner, a couple of fans went up to both Y/n and Chris. They took a picture with each one and then one together with both of them. There was also a paparazzi outside the restaurant they were at. Luckily, he was a nice guy just trying to do his job, unlike other paps they've ran into in the past who asked invasive questions, harassed them when they wouldn't stop to pose for them, and pushed them to get a picture. They stopped and had a small conversation with him, and even offered him dinner which he kindly declined.
Y/n and Chris took a stroll around downtown, surprisingly the streets were pretty empty and they could enjoy a nice walk together before a hectic day. "I've never seen LA so empty before." Chris said, swinging their intertwined hands back and forth. "I was about to say that." She looked at him with a smile. Y/n loved intimate moments like these, just the two of them with no interruptions. "You're so pretty." Chris stopped and grabbed both of her hands and brought them to his chest.
"Chris." She whines, trying to hide her face in his chest. "Don't hide from me, let me see you." He lets go of her hands to gently grab her face. Face to face, she's beat red. As much as she loved the compliments he never failed to make her blush and same with him. "See, look at you. So beautiful. Can't wait to see you all dolled up tomorrow. Walking down the red carpet. Going up on the stage to perform, to win all three Grammys." He planted a kiss on her lips. Y/n couldn't stop smiling that she cheeks hurt. "Baby, you don't know if I'll even win or not." Chris hated when she doubted herself especially when it came to her music. "I know you will. Tell me, have I ever been wrong about any other award ceremony?" Every award show Y/n has even been invited to, she always won every category she was nominated for. She shook her head.
"Exactly, this time is no different. By this time tomorrow night, I'll be able to tell the world that my girlfriend is a five time grammy award winner."
Going back to their hotel, Y/n was skipping down the streets as Chris jogged lightly behind her giggling like high school teenagers hanging out for the first time. Chris stops jogging, and pulls his phone out to capture a picture of her. "Babe, look!" He says to her. As she turns to him, he takes picture. "Let me see!" She skips to him as he goes to the picture. "Send that to me!" She gasps.
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y/n just uploaded to their story. (right)
The next morning, Y/n's alarm blared at the crack of dawn. "Turn it off." Chris mumbled his morning voice making an appearance. He rolls closer to her and tucks his face into Y/n's neck who is sleepily trying to reach for her phone to turn it off. "I'm trying." She yawns, finally grabbing her phone and shutting off the alarm. "What time is it?" Chris picks his head up and yawns, running a hand through his messy hair. "six thirty." She says, throwing her phone next to her and wrapping her arm around Chris' bare torso. "Ughh!" He groans. Y/n stifles a laugh. "I don't think I've ever been up this early since the Billboard Awards." He leans his head on hers.
"Stop being dramatic." She giggles. After few minutes pass and Chris is slowly dozing off before he feels Y/n get off the bed. "Where are you going?" He asks, shielding his eyes from the bright sun that is entering the room. "The bathroom." She slips her slippers on and stretches. "Can you bring me a robe? I want to wear it. Wait, nevermind I'll go with you." He grunts as he gets up and walks towards the door where Y/n is waiting. Exiting the bedroom, they walk through the living area, the room being lit with sunlight, considering that they're in a high rise and there's no blinds in that area. "Woah! If I wasn't awake before I am now."
They take turns using the toilet, trying to wake up fully as they waited for one another. "Do you want a robe?" Chris asks, as he ties the robe closed. Y/n nods. "Why not?" He hands the last one to her and she slips it on, feeling the soft material on the parts her sport bra and sleeping shorts don't cover. "Soft, isn't it?" He hugs himself. "It really is." She does the same. They look at each other and laugh. As routine, they brush their teeth together and Chris takes his phone and hands it to her so she can take a picture.
"Room service?" Y/n asks Chris as they sit on the dining table provided for them. "Yes, let me get the menu." Chris gets up and runs to where he saw the menus earlier. "I'll have whatever you get." He tells her. Y/n picks up the phone and dials the room service number. Chris stares at her, blurring out her voice as he just stares. When she finishes, Chris realizes something and gasps. "What?!" Y/n gets startled. "We haven't kissed at all this morning." He says. "I thought it was something serious!" She gentry swats his robe covered arm.
"This is serious! Come here." He grabs her chin and kisses her.
A knock at the door breaks their small conversation of what today will look like. "I'll get it." Chris gets up placing a kiss on her cheek before going to the door. "Hello, good morning!" Y/n hears Chris greet whoever is at the door. "I can take it from here, thank you so much. Enjoy your day." Chris comes back in the room with a tray full of food. "Breakfast is here." He carefully places the tray down. All four plates are covered with a cloche. Chris places two in front of her and uncovers them. "Ta-da!" He says, Y/n giggles. "Thank you, Chris." She leans over to grab utensils and syrup for her waffles. "Im assuming I got the same." Y/n nods at him as she digs in her food.
"What time is everyone getting here?" Chris questions. "Rudy is coming here at nine to pick us up for sound check. And then we're coming back here at around eleven. My stylist, hairstylist, makeup artist, and photographer are getting here at twelve so we can both start getting ready."
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y/n just uploaded to their story. (right)
At soundcheck, Y/n and Chris spotted all of the other artists who were performing. And they were starstruck to say the least. They saw Harry Styles, which Y/n was over the moon for although she had met him a few times and needed a minute after those interactions, Billie Eilish also sound checked and both of them took a picture sneakily and sent it to the group chat with Matt and Nick. At home Nick was going crazy. They also saw H.E.R, Jack Harlow, and Lil Nas X.
"Alright, Y/n, you're up!" Her manager, Rudy, stood up to walk her backstage so she can get mic'd up. "I'll be back." Y/n kissed Chris as she walked away. He waited patiently, excited to know what songs she was going to since. She hadn't told him yet, but all he knew is she was going to sing a mashup of two songs. He stared at the stage, seeing her band members tuning up their instruments and playing a light beat. "Guitar needs to be turned up a bit." Someone working for the production yelled. As Sage, her guitarist kept playing a light strum he heard it get louder. "That's good!" They did that with the rest of the band and their instruments.
Finally, Y/n came out on the stage and waved at Chris. "Ready?" The same guy spoke to Y/n through around mic. "Ready!" She held up a thumbs up. "Alright test the mic." Y/n cleared her throat. "Testing one two three, three, two, one." She spoke, her voice could now be heard throughout the arena. "Turn it up just a tad more." The same man spoke. "Keep going." He said to Y/n. Repeating the same words her voice got louder. "Perfect! Now, let's hear her and the band together. Band, whenever you're ready."
The band started to play a light melody Chris soon realized what the song was, Invisible String, which was one of his favorite songs by her. It was about their relationship, and how they had certain moments in their lives that connected them to one another. Y/n, who grew up in New York had family in Massachusetts where Chris was specifically from and she would frequently visit them. Her career had just started at the age of sixteen so she would get stopped by a few people in his small town. However, years later they realized just how often they were face to face at the frozen yogurt shop Chris worked at. Eventually, they met again in LA at a movie premiere.
Before she got halfway through the song, the beat changed and turned into a new song. Pov, which was also about him and was her most popular song from her new album which was also nominated for both Record of the Year and Song of the Year. After soundcheck, they stopped by a spot to pick up a quick lunch to eat back at their hotel. They had a good half hour to eat until everyone would arrive. Y/n, Chris, and Rudy all ate their lunch and had a fun conversation about certain conspiracy theories.
Forty minutes later, their hotel room was full of people running back and forth from Y/n. Chris was first to get ready since he didn't need much. He just got his hair styled and his clothes fitted. He was memorized by Y/n, she would occasionally glance at him and wink making him giddy.
christophersturniolo just uploaded to their story.(both)
"I'm nervous!" Y/n places her gloved hand on Chris' bouncing knee. "Why? It's just like any other award show." Chris looks at her. "It's the Grammys! And there's way more people watching plus we're sitting near the front and we'll be in the shots throughout the whole night. I'm going to embarrass myself." She regrets telling him what she did last night. "Baby, I was only kidding about what I said last night. You're not going to embarrass yourself, I promise. Okay?" She places a kiss on his cheek. "Okay, okay." The car comes to a halt and the driver up front tells them they have arrived.
"Ready to head out?" Chris nods. They get out and they are met with the red carpet, there's many artist walking on and stopping for pictures. "Hello, you must be Y/n and Christopher!" A lady in a suit speaks. "Hi, that's us." Y/n giggles, grabbing Chris' hand. "It's nice to meet you, let's get you two checked in! Follow me." They get checked in and get informed what time Y/n will be pulled out to get charged into her performance outfit. "Alright, you guys are ready for the carpet. I'm pretty sure your manager went over these things but you're free to ignore any questions you don't feel comfortable answering and also you can skip interviews but it's all up to you."
During the red carpet, they took pictures alone and together. Y/n decided that she did want to do interviews. "Here, let's do some interviews." She leaded Chris towards the interview section. "Y/n! Over here!" They both looked who called her and they're met with Liza Koshy. "Liza!" Y/n squealed. "Look at you, you're gorgeous!" Liza hugged her. "And you must be Chris, it's nice to meet you, I love watching your videos with your brothers." Chris thanked her.
"Can I interview you, Chris?" Chris froze. "Oh- uh, sure." Y/n smiles, watching Chris as he does his very first interview. "Excuse me, Y/n! Can we interview you for E!" A man dressed in a suit asks. "Of course!" During the interview, Chris walks behind and her and gets out of the shot. "He looks a bit nervous." The interviewer says. Y/n giggles, "He just had his first interview."
"You did great, babe!" Y/n tells Chris as they walk inside the arena to find their table. "You think so?" He asks. "I know so!" Soon, they find their table, remembering they saw their name cards on a table yesterday as they were setting them up. "Wait, look who's sitting there!" Y/! stops. "Who?" He's confused. "It's Harry!" Chris looks and it's enough there he is. "Holy shit! I'm going to be sitting next to him." Y/n gives him a stare. "Lucky, motherfucker."
"Hey, you be sitting next to the Christopher Sturniolo." He laughs. As they get to their table, they greet the people who have been hired to be sit ins at tables. "Hello!" A british voice says next to Chris. "Oh! Hello, I'm Chris!" He greets Harry. "You're Y/n's boyfriend, correct?" Chris nods. "I thought so, I saw you two here yesterday during soundcheck. She was amazing."
"Next up, please welcome grammy award winner and nominee, Y/n." Chris quickly stands up and starts recording on his phone. "Green was the color of the grass where I used to read at Centennial Park, I used to think I'd meet somebody there." Y/n's voice can be heard throughout the area. Chris can hear the crowd above in the seats singing along. "And isn't it just so pretty to think, all along there was some, invisible string, tying you to me?" Y/n looks over at Chris and points at him and then points at her.
She keeps singing the song for a couple more seconds before switching songs. "I wanna love me, the way that you love me." Chris doesn't notice but, a cameraman pans the camera to him and everyone watching at home got a scene of Chris smiling at her.
"You did great!" Chris tells Y/n as she returns back to her seat in her dress she had in before. "Thank you, I was so nervous!" Chris hugs Y/n. "I recorded the whole thing." He kisses her temple.
Minutes go by, performances go by and awards go by until it's time for Y/n's first category she is nominated in. "You got this, babe." He grabs her gloved hand and rubs his thumb over her knuckles. "And the Grammy for Best Pop Album goes to..." Dua Lipa says into the mic before opening the envelope. She sees who the winner is and nods her head smiling. "Y/n for her album Heart Beats" Y/n freezes in her seat and Chris jumps in his seat grabbing her hand and kissing it. "Babe, you won! Holy shit!" Seconds later, Y/n turns to Chris and they both get up. "Go up there, 'M so proud of you." He hugs her tightly rocking her side to side. "Oh my god, Chris." She grabs his face and kisses him quickly before walking up to get her award.
She hears one of her songs playing throughout the arena and covers her mouth. Soon she reaches the stairs carefully going up them. Dua Lipa meets her half way and gives her, her Grammy. "Congrats!" Dua pulls her into a hug. She stands to the side, and Y/n goes up to the mic, "Oh my- I- I want to start off by saying thank you to the recording academy for this award. I would also like to thank every single person who made this album possible, from the producers to my band and the person who inspired this whole album." She looks over at Chris who is recording but his head is turned away from his phone, looking directly at her and they both blush. "And I want to take a moment to thanks my fans, my supporters, my listeners this," She holds up the Grammy. "wouldn't be possible without you guys or your support. Thank you so so much! Lastly, thank you to my family, my friends, and my boyfriend for always believing in me and showing me endless love and support. I love you guys. Thank you!" She holds up her Grammy, before walking away backstage.
Her manager, Rudy, is waiting for her backstage. "Congrats, kid! Only two more to go!" He gives her a side hug and grabs the Grammy for her to put it in a safe spot before she goes back to sit down. "You did amazing!" Chris wraps his left arm around her and rubs her shoulder. "I was so nervous, sorry if I kept weird eye contact with you." She leans her head on his shoulder. "Only two more to go!" Suddenly and ring covered fist appears in front of Y/n. She realizes the familiar cross tattoo and lifts her head off Chris' shoulder. "Congrats, Y/n" She bumps Harry Styles' fist. "Thank you so much, Harry!" All three of them keep a conversation going until it's time for that last four awards. Y/n was surprised to hear that Chris and Harry had several conversations while she was up out of her seat. She even found out they took a picture together.
"And now, the winner for this year Song of the Year is..." Jared Leto opens the envelope. Chris, once again hold her hand. "Pov, by Y/n" Y/n throws her face into Chris' neck. The crowd erupts in claps and cheers. "Holy shit." She laughs. "You did it again! Song of the fucking Year!" Chris says, kissing her lips and getting up to hug her. She wipes her eye, and walks past Harry who pulls her into a hug. Walking up to the stage, she receives the Grammy from Jared and goes up to the mic. "Wow, hello again." She giggles. "Once again thank you to everyone in the recording academy for choosing me out of all of the other great artists. I'm incredibly grateful for even being here. I want to thank my producer, Fred, who helped me add some lyrics to this song. Thank you, Fred. ."
"I would like to dedicate this award to the person who inspired this whole song, and anything and everything I write, is my boyfriend Chris, without him I really wouldn't have been able to write this song. He is my muse, my best friend, my everything, he's really made me a better version of myself. I think I'd be lost without him. He also is truly one of my biggest supporters. Chris thank you for always being proud of me, for showing me what true love really is. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She smiles bowing a kiss in Chris' direction before walking off the stage.
By this time, Chris can't stop smiling, his cheeks are completely red from how much he's blushed and his eyes are glossed over from her heartwarming words. "I love you so so much." Is the first thing he said to her as she sat back down. "I love you more."
"Now, the grammy for Record of the Year goes to, this is a big one." Trevor Noah, the hosts says before opening the envelope. "Aha, Y/n! Pov!" Y/n gasps and turns to Chris. "My five time grammy winning girlfriend! You're amazing!" Chris engulfs her in a hug. "Chris, oh my god! This is actually insane." Y/n cant believe that she won all three grammys she was nominated for.
"This- this is absolutely insane. Wow," She blows air out. "I did some research when I got nominated for this grammy and found out this is for the best sounding song, which now blows my mind that I won. Thank you, recording academy. I also want to thank my producer once again, Fred, unfortunately he couldn't be here today. Also, thank you to the engineers and mixers, Jack, Travis, and Pat for their incredible support on the song. My band, Sage, Derick, Eve, Angel for playing the instruments on this song beautifully. And my mastering engineer Delaney. My team, everyone at Columbia Records. Just, thank you, to everyone who has ever and always supported me! Thank you so much! Goodnight!" She holds her Grammy up and walks away.
Back at the hotel, Y/n and Chris were exhausted to say the least. They decided to skip on the after parties and just stay huddled up in their room before they returned to their respective home the next morning. "I can't believe I won all three Grammys." She says as she wipes off her makeup sitting on the bed. "I told you, I'm never wrong when it comes to your awards." Chris grabs one of the three Grammys off the bed and reads the engraved words.
National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences
Y/n Y/l/n- Artist/Producer
Best Pop Album
"Now you can put these next to the other two you have on your bookshelf." He says grabbing all three carefully and placing them on the dresser that was provided. "Do you want to keep one?" Y/n says out of the blue. "What?" He says shocked. "Yeah, do you want the Song of the Year one? I like to call it your song. So it's your Song of the Year." She explains tossing the dirty makeup wipes in the small trash can near the bed. "But it's your Grammy." Chris says, walking over to her. "And it's your song." She adds on. "Are you sure?" Chris asks. "I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't." She smiles. "Okay, I'll take it and put it next to my Y/n shrine." They both laugh.
"Have I told you how much I'm proud of you?" Chris teases. "You've told me once or twice." She nods, smiling. "Well, that's not enough. I really am so proud of you. Like so much I can't put into words."
"Thank you, Chris. I love you."
extras!
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris x y/n#chris x reader#chris smut#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt x y/n#matt x reader#angst#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#space camp#fresh love#social media#singer#singer au
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girldad!art who is currently shopping for halloween costumes.
“are we doing family costumes this year?” art asked you. halloween was in a week and surprisingly spirit halloween still had a few costumes. “no, she said she’s too old for that now. she wants to be a zombie.” you told art, picking up one of the zombie makeup kits. art made a confused face. not many eight year old girls wanna be zombies for halloween. “why a zombie?”
you dropped the making up kit into the shopping basket. “patrick’s been binging the walking dead with the girls when he watches them.” you reveal, having only found out a while ago yourself. “remind me to have a conversation with him about that later.” art mumbled.
—
“can we trick or treat at lily’s house? her neighborhood has better candy.” your daughter spoke, interrupting you trying to do her makeup for the hundredth time. “yes, we can if you stop talking and let me finish this.” you told her and she immediately straighten up and closed her mouth. but because she was an antsy eight year old that only lasted a minute until she was back to squirming in her seat and asking you random questions.
you put the final touches on her zombie makeup before picking up the mirror flipping it towards her. “alright girly, take a look.” you watched as her eyes and her smile grew wider. “mommy, i look so good!” she took the mirror from you to examine her face up closer. “let’s go show daddy.”
—
you and art stood in the kitchen while your daughter hide behind the wall. “both of you cover your eyes and i’ll count to three.” she order the two of you. “but i’ve already seen your outfit.” you said. she stuck her little arm out and pointed a finger at you. “both. eyes. closed.” she demanded with a bossy attitude you liked to pretend she totally didn’t get from you.
after peeking around the corner and seeing that both yours and art’s eyes were closed she walked out to stand in front of you. “ok, open your eyes in three …two…. one.” you and art tore your hands away from your eyes. “look daddy, i’m you but as a zombie!” she beamed.
“you look amazing! oh my god.” art smiled at his daughter who stood dress up in an all white tennis outfit that had little dirt and blood stains and her hand holding a bloody tennis racket. “we used the picture from when you and uncle patrick won the doubles as a reference.” she said. “i can see that.” art moved to pick her up, an action that was getting a little strenuous given how big she was now but he hasn’t throw his back out yet so he supposes it’s still ok. “you found my old hat and everything. and look at this makeup, mommy did very good.” he turned to you giving you a smile. “how did you come up with such a costume?”
your daughter took a deep breath getting ready to explain. “well, first i was just gonna be a plain zombie but there was gonna be hundreds of zombies tonight and i thought that was too boring. so i decided to combine my two favorite things, you and zombies.” she said with a zombieish groan at the end snapping her teeth at art. you laughed at their antics before clapping your hands together. “ok, time for pictures so we can go.” art let her down to the ground and she ran off to get her tennis ball looking trick or treat basket before posing up a storm for you.
—
“whoa, zombie art donaldson. awesome costume kid.” patrick greeted the three of you in front of the zweig house before high-fiving your daughter. tashi and lily soon came out of the house. “who are supposed to be.” you asked lily. “spider gwen from into the spiderverse. see mommy let me put in pink clip ins.” she showed off the curly pink clips that blended in with her hair. “nice.” you gave her a nod of approval.
more pictures were taken of the girls in their costumes standing in front of tashi and patrick’s halloween decorations.
“candy candy candy.” lily and your daughter chanted, their arms hooked together as they skipped ahead of you and tashi. art and patrick hung a little further back. “hey, patrick can i take to you.” patrick hummed. “could you maybe not watch the walking dead with two eight year olds.” art suggested. patrick scoffed. “oh come on. we just got to season three things are getting good i can’t leave the girls hanging. plus i cover their eyes at any inappropriate part so don’t worry.” patrick patted art’s back. art shook his head mumbling an “ok.”
—
the girls circled the block at least three times to get as much candy before heading back to tashi and patrick’s house where they traded back and forth until they crashed on the couch.
art carried his daughter out to the car bidding good night to tashi and patrick. once at home and inside your held your arms out so art could pass your daughter off to you to get her ready for bed but art said that he would do it.
“sorry, we didn’t do family costumes. i know you wanted to.” she sleepily mumbled. she had her teeth brushed and pajamas on, face clean of all the makeup that art gently wiped off. “you don’t need to apologize i’m fine with it. plus your costume was way better anyway.” art pincher her sides lightly. she let out light giggles. “thanks. good night, daddy.”
“good night.” art tucked her in tight and placed one last kiss on her forehead before shutting off her lamp and leaving.”
(happy halloween!!)
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Coffee Break S.R x FEM! reader
Overture- Emily has been getting you coffee in the morning, and while you really appreciate it, you haven't actually been drinking them
CWs-None really, mild insecurity. (Also reader doesn't like coffee and is very non-confrontational.
A/N-Day 13, and posted on time? I'm a little proud of myself.
It really was so sweet. On your first day Emily was the first person to talk to you, and starting on your second day, she’d bring you a coffee most mornings. The first time, you’d thanked her and then let the coffee go to waste, pretending to drink it every few minutes, but otherwise just feeling guilty about not liking it. The second day however, it seemed like this might be a regular thing, so you looked to your new deskmate Spencer.
“Hey Spencer, can you keep a secret?”
“Sure, what’s going on?” He was already intrigued, so he leaned over his desk to get closer to you.
“So Emily got me this coffee and it was really sweet of her, and I really don’t want it to go to waste, but I don’t actually like coffee. Do you maybe want it?”
“Sure, thank you. But you can just tell her you don’t like coffee, she’ll get you something else.” He took the mug from you, with only slight hesitation.
“No way, it was really nice, and I really don’t want to tell her.”
“Alright, well thank you. But she really wouldn’t be mad.”
****************
That was two weeks ago. When you would bring Emily coffee, you got hot tea and didn’t say anything, and when she brought you coffee, you’d pour it in Spencer’s mug and keep the cup as a prop. It was too late to say anything now. So maybe you’d just pretend to like coffee forever.
“So are you ever going to tell her you don’t actually like coffee?” Spencer moved his chair around the side of his desk to sit closer to you, also helping to cover up you pouring your coffee into his mug.
“Probably not.”
“You can’t fool them forever. They’re all here for behavioral analysis, and they will notice eventually.”
“But they haven’t noticed yet. I once let my boss call me the wrong name for two years, and I wasn’t even the one who corrected him. I could do this forever.” After finally finishing with the coffee, you handed it back to him. But he was in no hurry to move away from you.
“Please tell me we have not been calling you the wrong name.” He looked confused and surprisingly upset at that prospect.
“No! No– I promise I’m only lying about the coffee thing.”
“And remind me again why you would do that.”
“I don’t know, I didn’t want to seem mean, and I don’t want her to think she’s been buying me coffee just for it to go to waste or something, but I don’t want to drag you into it.”
“I don’t think I could see a world in which anyone thinks you’re mean, especially since you’re willing to lie about liking something just for someone else’s benefit.”
“Thank you, but–could you please just keep it a secret?”
“Of course, and I would like to say that you’re putting an impressive amount of effort into this.”
“Thank you. And I appreciate you drinking the coffee for me, I really would hate to waste it.”
“I’ll always take an extra coffee in the morning.”
“Well aren’t you two sweet having your coffee together in the morning. Send me an invite to the wedding, yeah?” Derek teased as he walked by, making his way toward Penelope’s office. Neither of you could think of anything to say, not for lack of trying.
But once he left, you and Spencer finally got your brains working again, left to revel in the embarrassment of your coworker teasing you like that.
“Don’t worry, I plan on thoroughly destroying him later.” He said it fully serious, and you couldn’t help but laugh just a little bit. You couldn’t imagine Spencer really destroying anyone, he was too sweet.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader
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Expantion
Alexia Putellas x Reader
Summary: After a miscarriage, you are pregnant again hopeful that this time will be it. But this time, things are not what you hoped they would be.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Something is wrong. The midwife is taking an extra second look at the ultrasound. She’s stopped talking. She’s stopped smiling. She’s stopped everything. She’s just looking. Her eyes glued to the screen without as much as an emotion on her face. She’s moving the probe. And looking some more. Oh no. Not again. Your heartbeat was increasing. It felt like it was about to beat through your chest. You had miscarried once already. The first IVF attempt had surprisingly worked. Only to be ripped away from you after 2 months. No heartbeat. No baby. No future. You had decided that you were ready to try again just shy of Christmas. It was now May, and summer was fast approaching. Alexia had been stuck in traffic as practice had been running late, and she was just around the corner. You couldn’t even imagine having to tell her that once again; your body had killed her egg, her baby. The first time it happened, she didn’t say much. She was so supportive that I t hurt. But when she thought you were sleeping, she let her tears flow. How was she gonna react to this again? What was a third try gonna look like? Would she even want to go for a third try? You didn’t know if that was a possibility. Due to the poor state of her eggs, you didn’t get many good eggs from her, and very few of them had matured into good quality embryos ready for transfer. It had all happened in a short amount of time: from kissing her for the first time to buying a house and trying for a baby all in the span of 3 years. What if she couldn’t handle this? You got nauseous by the thought of it.
“Sorry, I’m just gonna go and get the doctor. Just wait here mrs.Putellas.” The midwife said as she stood up and walked out. You reached for your phone as you pulled your sweater down causing the gel to stick to the inside of your sweater. You didn’t care. You didn’t want to see the tiny bump. You didn’t want to let the doctor see the bumb. You didn’t want the doctor to tell you that your baby was dead. You wanted to hide the bump, and to run away so you didn’t have to deal with reality just yet. You had to once again tell Alexia that you fucked up. It couldn’t have been anyone else’s mistake. It had to be yours. You had been so careful, but you had that one piece of shrimp you shouldn’t have had a few weeks ago and you had a stomachache a few days ago without connecting in to the pregnancy. Alexia had insisted on seeing a doctor, but you insisted that you were perfectly fine. And now you were paying the consequences for it.
“Hola, mi amor, lo siento mucho. The traffic was horrible, so I parked upfront. Don’t expect anything but a fine” the Spaniard sang as she walked into the room, a little out if breath. Her smile quickly faded as she saw your serious grin. “Preciousa, are you okay, no?” She asked with a shaky voice as she pulled a chair out to sit close to you while she grabbed your hand. You shook your head as tears formed in your eyes. “Ale, she said that she was gonna get the doctor to come look” you mumbled as your head hang down. “Oh” alexia said as her good energy died out. “I’mo sorry” you said as you buried your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry, ale. I’ll do better next time, I promise” you said as a tear escaped your eye. “Amor, let’s wait for the doctor. It will be okay. I can get some time off and we can travel, just stay at a resort and relax in the heat, si?” She said as her hand touched your belly as if it was purely routine. “But for now, let’s wait for the doctor” she said as she kissed the side of your tiny belly that were still covered by your sweater. You nodded as you tried to distract yourself with the thought of going on vacation. Thailand would be nice, or Bali. Or south-Africa. Greece was also nice, but you had already been there. Cap verde was close and had lots of beautiful beaches. You sat in silence for a while until the door swung open again. “Sorry again, Mrs.Putellas, let’s take a look now shall we” the older woman said as she gestured for the doctor to sit down on the chair to look at the ultrasound. You unwillingly leaned backwards and pulled up your sweater awaiting your penalty. The midwife pointed on the screen and the doctor nodded. “Mhm, I see” she said as she moved the probe around on your belly. You held your breath terrified of the words that were about to come out of her mouth. You didn’t wanna hear it. You gripped Alexia’s hand hard and got a second of reassurance when she squeezed back.
“So, the results. Two things.” The doctor started as your heart-rate skyrocketed. Alexia gripped tighter in your hand and you felt her skin becoming somewhat damp. “First: Your little girl is perfectly fine, she’s small for her age, but she’s getting there” the doctor said as you gasped. Your little girl. A girl. A girl with long blonde hair and blue eyes looking like her mami. “A girl?” Alexia said as her eyes teared up. The doctor nodded as she smiled. “A girl, a princesa” she said as she smiled. She turned around the screen of the ultrasound so you could see your daughter. She was moving her legs slightly, but she still wasn’t big enough that you could feel it. “The second thing i wanted to tell you is, well, exactly that. Second. The second baby is also a girl. Twins. Most likely identical.” She said. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. “Que? There’s-there’s two?” alexia said as she scooted closer to the screen as the doctor pointed out the second twin. “Si, dos, correct. She was just hiding behind her sister, which is why she hasn’t shown herself yet” the doctor explained as she gave tons of information about how check ups were gonna have to happen more often than before. You didn’t catch any of it, as you were just releaved that the baby was alive. Your eyes were glued to the baby on the screen. Well, the babies. The girls. Your two girls. They were fine, healthy and growing. You were snapped out of your thoughts when the doctor and the midwife left the room to allow you to breathe. None of you said a word. The room was dead quiet.
“I-I guess we need to go shopping again” she stuttered while looking it you. You nodded. “Two cribs, two strollers, two carseats for both of the cars, oh my god! Do we need a new car to fit the girls??” She panicked as her eyes widened kicking your brain into action. “Babe, it’s okay. There is two girls. They are both healthy. Everything is good. We are all good.” You said as you stood up and embraced her. She held you tight. “God, I just can’t believe it. There are gonna be little girls running around soon. Not just any little girls, our little girls” she said as she wrapped her arms around you kissing the top of your head. “Yea, our little girls. And twice the love” You said as you breathed in her scent instantly calming you. “Our perfect little girls” she said as she placed a hand on your belly. «Our perfect little girls» you repeated as she kissed you.
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In older artworks Ryba seems so much edgier and so angsty and now… he’s like a cute puppy. I would love to know how Ryba has changed over the years, and how he’s different or similar from his older versions. I think you mentioned a few years ago that Ryba (as he is now) was a bad boy when he was younger, and I wanna know if that’s still true. If it is, how does he think of his past self and how did he go from edgelord to ray of sunshine?
Hmmm well i wouldnt exactly call Ryba... hm. I can feel this will be a long one. Hes one of my top 3 favourites so this was fun to elaborate on
Ryba is one of my older characters (7 years old now or so) so he has changed quite significantly and in ways i cant really explain. I probably just got bored with him being the problem child and made him nicer. Well either way yes in retrospective Ryba used to be very edgy and one of my main problem causing characters. He wasnt mean exactly as much as he was just uncaring and extremely selfish. Not worlds most insufferable teenage boy but definitely someone annoying. That problem child persona is still present in current Rybas childhood, which was mostly caused by grief and loss of his family and lack of attention and care that came with it. Ryba lost his parents when he was fairly young and was living with his more estranged family before later moving in with his grandma, with whom he lives since (and who he loves very much), and that period was very hard for him and shaped him as a person going forward. He started acting out durning that time and it progressed so much it just further isolated him from others; he was always a nice child if given the chance and some positive attention, but he did do a lot of stupid things for people to just see him
Ryba now is a very kind and friendly person, but that kindness is rooted somewhat in what other people would consider selfish needs; he needs to be liked, to be a friend and be worthy of others positive attention. Its his main life fuel; Ryba doesnt like dealing with his own problems, and prefers drowning himself in love to escape from them. Hes overly dependent on that feeling of love. Doesnt mean hes less kind or that hes somehow two faced, but that kindness doesnt come from a "morally pure" need to just be kind, and thats a very important aspect of Rybas personality.
Ryba has a lot going on in his head he doesnt know how to succesfully sort out; hes not stupid (even though he does act dumber than he is to make people laugh and appear more safe, friendler), but he has significant problems with sorting out his needs (both physical and emotional) energy and emotions, not helped by his extreme unwillingness to deal with it in a normal way or even just, talk to someone about it. Ryba is both an open and a closed book. Instead his own problem solving skill boils down to occasionally throwing things at the wall to see if they stick and never letting go if they do. Which is why he tends to contradict himself a lot; his tendency to pick fights with other boys is the same outlet for his emotions as being clingy and loving is. Its relatively easy for him to replace one with the other in the short term, as long as hes in the centre of attention and is being physically close to someone, even if in the long term his tendency to fight could be considered a form of self harm; its something that makes him feel awful right after, but he keeps doing it, because it does work for something. On the other hand, clingyness and whatever form of intimacy hes offered, tends to result more in him feeling like a freak (hence the "Ryba wouldnt be able to date someone who isnt as obsessive about him as he is" from one of my recent rybaposts came from; if he knows hes needed the same way he instead leans into the codependency as much as he can, even when he realizes hes getting "addicted" to a person; Ryba is surprisingly perceptive, especially when it comes to other people, he just doesnt want to deal with the baggage). In the similar way, his need to take care of others instead of himself is his way of making himself useful and having something else to focus on that isnt himself. Ryba is a character whose sanity is being held together by wax and spit
As for what he thinks about his younger self; if he had to be honest he just wishes there was someone for him at that time and after. Main theme of DNS is loneliness and while i wouldnt say modern Ryba is lonely, nor does he consider himself so (he may not talk about his issues to his friends, but they are still his friends nonetheless and he loves them a lot), that sudden childhood separation from people he should depend on and a period of loneliness that came with it is something that definitely did shape him in a significant way; kind of like a root of the problem that kept on growing even after the disaster has stopped, becoming something a bit more complex than in its infant state
#ask :)#duch na strychu#he is beloved#thank you for the ask i love an opportunity to talk about ryba
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I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 3
a nice long update for ya ♡ part 1 part 2
cw: internalized homophobia and projecting internalized homophobia (from an oc)
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve's first steps into his living room are not met with silence and sunshine; in fact, he is met with two surprises.
The first being Eddie Munson still in his apartment.
Steve rubs the tired out of his eyes, squishing his palm into his lids in hopes of shaking out a morning delusion. He is proven unsuccessful..
His second surprise is that Eddie is awake, staring at Steve in high alert, blankets folded neatly (he must have scrounged around for them in the night, not that Steve minds), sitting patiently as if he has been waiting for hours for Steve's arrival.
If the second surprise hadn't happened, Steve might have excused the first. See, Eddie, in all the years he had known him, had been anything but an early riser, usually choosing to sleep the day away. So if he had been asleep still, Steve might have let him being in his apartment slide.
Steve ponders how he doesn't really know Eddie anymore, so he shouldn't actually be surprised.
Eddie clears his throat, "So, how about that talk?"
Steve has to resist shutting his eyes to relish in the sound of Eddie's deep timbre. His voice has grown scratchy over the years—from singing or cigarettes, Steve can't be sure. It feels like coming home, either way, to have his voice brush over him.
Instead, Steve clears his throat back. "Don't have time; maybe try again in another five years." He moves to the kitchen to start making their morning drinks—hot coffee with cream for Robin and an iced dirty chai for Steve.
When Dustin had been working at a cafe back when he was in college, he made Steve try all of their new drinks. Surprisingly his favorite became a dirty chai—something which Robin finds hilarious.
Steve grabs the chipped green mug from the cabinet and begins pouring Robin's coffee. It had already been hot and ready in the pot, which probably meant Eddie had prepped it for him. Steve doesn't comment.
Eddie huffs through his nose, "C'mon Stevi—Steve. It's ten in the morning on a Saturday. You can't tell me you're busy right now."
Steve has to resist slamming Robin's mug down on the counter, already having being put together after the 1994 incident, he doesn't want to face her wrath.
Gently placing it on the counter, Steve turns. "Actually, I have somewhere to be at twelve, not that you need to know that. And don't act like you know what's going on in my life, Munson."
Eddie smiles, a little laugh escapes him. God, it is like a fucking drug after years of being sober that laugh. Steve wants to beg him for another hit, even though he knows it's bad for him.
With the smile never leaving his face, Eddie raises his hands. "Okay, okay. You're right."
"Why are you smiling? This isn't funny." Steve huffs.
Eddie's face softens, "Sorry, just even though you're mad at me. You're talking to me, and shit, sweetheart. I would take that over silence any day. It's nice to hear your voice."
Steve has to force himself to keep his shoulders tense, wanting to sag into Eddie. He's still mad at him, furious even. But some part of him agrees deep down, this is nice.
He can never let Eddie know that.
"Fuck off, Munson. I have shit to do. I'm sure you're too busy anyway."
Eddie shakes his head, hair falling in front of his face. "No, trust me I have nothing else going on. The band is on hiatus. And even if we weren't, trust me when I say this is exactly where I am supposed to be right now."
Steve can't help the snort that comes out of him, "Funny you're asking me to trust you, asshole. That went out the door with your bags five years ago."
Eddie flinches back, "Okay, I deserve that one."
Steve doesn't mention to Eddie how he knows his band has been on hiatus for over a year now. How he's kept up on the band, even after Eddie left. How he is curious why they went on hiatus at all, they have two successful albums, and supposedly were working on their third, when suddenly they all decided it was time for a break.
Peak of their career, and they chose silence. Normally, a horrible career move, but it seems it makes the rock community want them even more.
Steve can understand that partially. When it comes to Eddie, you can't help but want more, even when he disappears without a trace.
"I got to go get ready. Seriously, Munson. I know you think I don't mean it when I say leave. I think you're stuck on the Steve from five years ago, and how the Steve from then wouldn't really mean it. But this is the Steve now. And Steve from now means it when he says, get the fuck out. Go find someone else who could actually use your presence, like Dustin. God knows the kid deserves a phone call."
Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but doesn't get to chance to say his peace, Steve's already on his way back to his bedroom with their drinks in hand.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
Steve is running late.
It's not his fault, he has a fucking ghost haunting his living room, and it takes him ten times longer to work around it. Robin tells him to cancel his lunch, but Steve doesn't, even though she's right.
Robin's always right.
Steve can't help but feel a little smug when thinking back to leaving his apartment, though. He looks good, wearing his nicest Levi's and soft white button-up. Steve had made sure to keep the top few buttons undone, showing off his gold necklaces that landed perfectly on his exposed chest hair.
For Drew, of course, not for Eddie.
Still, Steve knows he looks good. So when he leaves his apartment and Eddie doesn't even bother to try to talk to him again because he is just too busy staring at Steve.
Steve makes it to the restaurant only five minutes late. It would have been on time if it had been in his athletic prime.
Resturant, Steve realizes, is a bit of a stretch. It appears to be a cafe--but not one of those cozy ones with crazy colors and a fun name. No, this cafe is incredibly fancy. Everything is so sleek and high up, the name in an Italian word he'll have to asked Robin to translate later.
Steve looks around the cafe in a huff, realizing Drew is nowhere to be found. He is momentarily flooded with relief, knowing he has beaten Drew to the cafe.
Steve finds a table in a corner and waits. His brief relief is quickly swept away into annoyance as he sits there for minutes with no signs of Drew.
It takes another thirty minutes, before Drew is finally at the cafe.
"Sorry, I'm late, baby." He says breath even. Steve knows he was in no rush to be here on time. He doesn't move to kiss Steve, not on the cheek and certainly not on the mouth. Drew isn't one for PDA, or so he says. Instead, he smooths down his dark blue Armani suit and sits across from Steve.
"You know, you could give me a kiss. I haven't seen you in a week." Steve decides to move past his being late; there is no point in arguing. If it had been him, Steve is sure he would never hear the end of it.
"Sweetheart..." Drew whispers and brushes his hand against Steve's knee. Steve's lip twitches; he doesn't like it when Drew calls him that. "You know it isn't safe to do that."
Steve wants to throw Drew's hand off of him, but he doesn't. It's always like this between them, Steve wants more, and Drew pulls back. It's beginning to feel tiresome, this game between them. They have been dating for a year and have made no progress in public. Steve's lucky Robin gets to know, seeing as basically no one else in either of their lives knows about each other. For Steve, everyone knows of Drew but not his name. For Drew, Steve is almost sure no one even knows he's gay.
Steve wants to hit himself for the thought. It's unfair of him to put these expectations on Drew, everyone comes out at their own pace. He would be a hypocrite if he pushed him; it had taken him nineteen years to figure out he was bisexual. Took Eddie leaving for him to come out to anyone other than Robin.
It feels different somehow with Drew, though. Like this isn't him scared to come out, but more like Drew doesn't actually see a future with Steve. It had taken them six months to even label themselves as boyfriends, moving from late-night booty calls to watching a movie together in Steve's living room in the middle of a Tuesday.
Steve rubs his temples instead of smacking Drew's hand away. Steve feels tired of this cycle. He knows this is the best he's going to get when it comes to dating. With women, they often want him to admit that he was experimenting, wanting to shun parts of himself away. That or they are convinced he's gay. Well, he is, but it's more than that, and they don't seem to get it.
With men, it's the opposite problem. Either they need him to admit being bisexual is just something he used to make himself feel better, or they are only looking for a quick hookup.
Hookups are nice, but approaching thirty, Steve wants something real and is perhaps sick of finding out the man he brings home from the bar is married.
He knows this is the best he's going to get.
"Maybe if we met a cafe in my neighborhood, we could be a bit more affectionate. The one down the block has a rainbow flag and everything."
Drew scrunches his nose, "Why do that when we can get nice coffee like this?"
Steve doesn't point out that neither Drew nor himself has ordered coffee. Steve can't afford the coffee here, and Drew was late. "I think that's your way of saying where I live isn't nice."
Drew grabs his hand under the table, "No, babe, I don't want to fight today. I've missed you."
Steve feels bad; he has missed Drew. Despite their ups and downs (and Robin's grumbles), Steve does care for him. "You're right, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. Besides, I did want to have lunch for a reason." Drew smiles brightly. Steve can't help but stare for a minute. It's no surprise what hooked Steve the first moment they met at the club. He is a classic kind of handsome. Wavy brown hair cut to look proper, a shiny white smile, piercing blue eyes. Nothing about him is soft, he is full of sharpness that takes you from across the room.
He's the kind of guy Steve's parents would have loved if they were okay with Drew being a guy—if Steve was even talking to them at all.
"Oh yes, you've got me on the edge of my seat." Steve jokes.
Drew gives him a charming smile, "There's my funny guy."
Steve rolls his eyes.
"So I have a big question for you..."
Steve freezes up; oh no. Here it comes. The talk, the let's move into together speech. One he'll have to turn down. No one ever gets it. How he can't live without Robin. Literally and physically.
"....so Greg says there's an opening and I think you'd be a great fit."
Steve shakes himself out of his thoughts, "What?"
Drew levels him with a look. "A job? For you?"
Oh. "I already have a job."
It's Drew's turn to roll his eyes, "C'mon, Steve. A high school guidance counselor? You could do so much more."
"I like my job, Drew. We've been through this. Besides, you barely want to be seen together, and now you want to work together? I have no interest in working at a law firm."
Drew pinches his nose, "Just...just think about it, okay? I want to see more of you in any way I can."
Steve doesn't want to fight. The fight left him a long time ago. "Okay."
He doesn't mean it.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
aaah im loving where this is going, also I swear it gets better soon and this has a happy ending!! also thanks for the love and support. This will probably be the last part where I will take tag requests for the series so please ask now, cause its getting too long. But parts will always be updated on the previous posts and my page!!
tag list!:
@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic
@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec
@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch
@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso @yesdangerpls
@lingermirth
@adealwithher @antonymeanonyme @stevah-hawcett @samsoble @mugloversonly
@stripey82 @anaibis @mycatsstolemybiscuit @flustratedcas @alfhitchblonde
@s0ft-strawberries @slavicviking @theheadlessphilosopher
@l1lpip @emmabubbles @arepaconchocolate
@thesuninyaface @hallo-spaceb0y @dykelips @bookbinderbitch @valinwonderland
#guys really i swear there is a happy ending#ive gone full blown story now#yal hyped me up its your fault#also im so excited for the next part hehehe#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#my writing#platonic stobin#ficlet#angst#hurt comfort#i wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind)#ao3
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How about a Hualian x calamity!reader oneshot? Maybe HC and reader know each other already and pursue XL together? Idk, love your writing tho!
Gang up
Hua Cheng x calamity!reader x Xie Lian
So sorry it took a while, I had strep these past few days but I feel good now so ty for being patient with me 😙🖤🖤
I tried to make it vague enough to where you can input your guy's own character in there 🥰🙏
I hope it isn't too short, and if you can't tell I pulled some make believe facts out of my ass. Have to change the story up a little bit
Spoilers Below!!!
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Everyone talks about the four calamities, but recently all three realms have been talking about a fifth one. Another terrifying, devastation level calamity. Because that's all the heavenly officials, someone else to worry about.
That's your bad, woops. It's not like it was on purpose. Maybe. It's not like it was your fault. Really! They should have known by now but your crimes and deeds have been hidden behind Crimson rain's for so long, everyone has thought there were only four calamities. Now, with so much activity from Hua Cheng it's impossible to hide behind him. Oh well.
Now you get your own title, lore, rumors and all that nice stuff since everyone knows you now. It's crazy how fast words spread.
You've always been here, in fact you and Hua Cheng appeared one right after the other. So of course with such a close timeline one of you was going to overshadow the other. Not that you have a problem with this.
Surprisingly you and Hua Cheng know each other well. You met a long, long time ago and have been friends ever since. Since you're such close friends. Why not live in paradise manor together, why not rule a ghost city together too? The two of you really are glued to each other's side.
The base of your friendship? Xie Lian. Now of course it's more than that. You're both dead, both calamities, both know Xie Lian, would do anything for Xie Lian, both knew Xie Lian. . .
You guys still hold affections for one another though so it's okay. And the best thing? I lied. You guys aren't friends at all. After hundreds of years of knowing each other you and Hua Cheng have seen the absolute worst in one another. You still stayed. He still stayed. Just because you guys are lovers doesn't mean that you're going to stop pursuing Xie Lian either. There's nothing wrong with three.
Now the second best thing is that none of you harbor jealousy against the other because usually you guys are side by side like Siamese cats causing trouble.
Very often the two of you gang up to pursue Xie Lian together. You guys even bully heavenly officials together. It's all a part of the fun.
So when Xie Lian initially hears about one ghost? He meets two. Like, okay so he has two calamity body guards. Neat. The same goes as follows. Just when he thought he only had to deal with one smart mouth, it's two. Feng Xin and Mu Qing are very annoyed by this but Xie Lian finds it endearing.
It's actually very nice. He used to have two people by his side, but then the trio was separated. Now he has two people by his side again and he doubts that you two will be leaving anytime soon.
Though, since you're actually a known calamity now the stories and details change up a little bit. Xie Lian can click a few more pieces of the puzzle together.
I mean how do you think Hua Cheng got so good in bed, he wasn't practicing on statues alone. How did Hua Cheng get his smooth, suave, attitude? That'd be you too. You had to encourage him to actually make a move on his precious dianxia instead of seeing him act like a blushing maiden anytime Xie Lian looks at him.
Not that you can speak differently on that one. You've always been there through Hua Cheng's worse and. . . worser. You're both awfully silly. Silly enough to give Xie Lian your ashes one random day.
When Xie Lian woke up with a ring of ashes around his neck? Pause. One ring? Isn't one missing? There's two of you. Hua Cheng and you so, where are your ashes.
He's absolutely delighted and curious when he finds out the two of your ashes are mixed. He finds it endearing the two of you trust each other that much and are so close. That's how he learned the two of you were lovers.
Because that's a big risk, a big promise. To mix your ashes and give it to one person. If Hua Cheng goes, you go too. If you go, Hua Cheng goes too. Which on a usual note would never happen.
Hua Cheng breaking Xie Lian's shackles is not a usual note though. He's devastated when not only one of his lovers fades away into a flock of butterflies but when his other lover does too.
The two of you would never leave him alone though, not with that ring around his neck. He knew you two would come back and you both did. Hand in hand, running to Xie Lian excitedly. The two of you would never have to disappear like that again.
Xie Lian doesn't mind that there's two of you. he has two hands, more the merrier. He's happy and loved. Isn't that all that matters?
____________________________________
I thought this new ashes idea of mine was cute so 🥰🙏 I hope you guys find it cute too
Sorry about grammar mistakes
#tgcf#tgcf headcanon#hualian#hualian x reader#hua cheng x reader#tgcf x male reader#xie lian x reader#tgcf hua cheng#tgcf hualian#tgcf xie lian#mxtx tgcf#mxtx#Tgcf oneshot
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Kintsugi - ch.4
Pairing: Coach!Levi x Injured fem!Reader
CW: themes of injury, depression, and hopelessness. 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni.
wc: 3.5k
a/n: You all know the drill, thank you @tobbi-loves-levi for going over this chapter with me and helping me make it everything I wanted 💗
previous / masterlist / dividers
An inviting herbal scent fills the air in Levi’s office, complemented nicely with a warm room temperature. While outside it’s quite hot around this time of June, the center is pretty consistently freezing; especially the ice rink. The printer whirls behind Levi’s office chair while he leans back with his arms stretched out to catch the papers as they slide out. He gathers them together, tapping them once on the desk before flipping open your file and placing them at the back. The start of your fifth week means you’re more than halfway through your estimated treatment plan with Levi.
Levi spins the folder around so it’s facing you and scoots his chair in to lean over it, using his pen to point out specific milestones you have reached. “I think we should change our Wednesdays to off ice days for the remainder of our sessions.” He mentions as he flips through the pages. “Keep Mondays and Fridays as our rink days. Sound alright?” You nod in agreement, following Levi's pen as he goes through a loose schedule of goals he wants to reach over the next couple of weeks.
“Sign here, then we can head down.” He double taps the signature line. “Oh, and you might want to think about reaching out to Tarasov again if you’re serious about getting involved once skating season begins.”
You hadn’t considered how fast the time has gone by. Skating season starts in July and your sessions with Levi are on route to wrap up in just a few weeks. You should be happy, everything you worked for is starting to pay off and soon enough you’ll be working on getting back into competitions. Bit by bit all of your goals are being met, so why does your heart ache for more time?
“You coming, or did you want to spend today’s session staring at my desk?” Levi asks. You’re not sure how long you went without responding to him.
Your mind is elsewhere for the beginning of today’s session while you did your warm up basics, up until you had no choice but to put all of your mental energy into your target goal for today. Levi has you do Waltz jumps until you could do them with your eyes closed. By the time you move onto spins for the rest of your time, you think if you had to do another waltz you’d pull the hair out of your head. That’s the thing about Levi, he understands when something’s too much to handle but once he’s sure you can do it he’s not so easy on you. Funnily enough it’s one of your favorite things about him, and one of the leading reasons you can say you're making progress. He won't let you give up.
***
On Wednesday you show up early again to watch Levi skate. Even though you know you won't be on the ice today, it’s still nice to be around it. Your fear of being turned away fades when he sees you standing at the boards and continues on with his routine anyways. Erwin shows up shortly after you and stands to your left. You can't help but be curious about him. He and Levi seem close, in fact you’ve never really seen Levi talk to anyone casually outside of erwin.
It doesn’t take long for the two of you to start talking, neither of you taking your eyes off Levi. You learn that Erwin is a personal trainer based in the basketball wing of Sina, though he takes clients of any sport. He met Levi seven years ago when he first started working here because surprisingly enough, he’s a huge fan of ice sports. Soon you come to find that Erwin and Levi are a lot closer than you originally assumed. They even hangout outside of work too, though as Erwin put it, “it took some convincing.” With how reluctant Levi is to open up, you believe that.
Levi finishes off with three consecutive jumps before gliding off towards the rink’s exit to get out of his skates.
“He adds one member to the audience and suddenly pulls out the big moves. Show off.” Erwin huffs out a laugh and thanks you for the pleasant conversation before turning and heading off.
Off-ice starts off as it usually would, stretches, ankle exercises, balance board, and spinners. Somewhere down the line you and Levi were practicing throws again. You don't know how it happened but you don’t care. It’s productive because it still helps you build back the skill of landing on your ankle and get used to the feeling of air time again. You slowly work on adding more rotations before landing and eventually Levi feels more comfortable throwing you higher.
You dont think you’ll ever get tired of the feeling of Levi’s hands on you. It feels safe, he makes you feel light. No matter what, you're confident Levi would never put you at risk for another injury. There's no wiggle room in competitive figure skating. Everything has its order, but it doesn't feel that way with him. In a way you almost feel like he sets you free from that mindset. Even if it’s only for a small chunk of time each session. The following week, it’s now just an unspoken part of your routine.
***
You quickly learn that time is not a generous thing, the whole next week of sessions goes by much faster than you expected. You blame this on the fact that the more you worked with Levi the better you were getting. Once you started to get a handle on skating again after so much time off the ice it started to become more fun rather than something you needed to do to heal.
Every day that week, you showed up to watch Levi skate before your sessions. When you weren’t completely mesmerized by him, you took the opportunity to watch his form in real time rather than how he would present it to you during therapy. You think that helped you get things down as quickly as you are.
This week marks the beginning of your last two weeks with Levi, and it’s all that you think about. That’s only six more sessions, two of which aren’t even on the ice. It’s not that you didn't think you were ready, no, you know you are. Levi has talked enough sense into you the last couple weeks to have you sure of that, paired with your progress he showed you in your file. It’s clear that you are recovering and building your skill back to how it was before your accident. It was scary to think about doing this without Levi, you still haven’t taken his advice on reaching out to your old coach. The second you do that it will just feel that much more real. You know how irresponsible it is to put off too, which only made it worse.
Monday you show up to watch Levi skate as usual, quickly noticing that Erwin isn’t here. When he sees you he skates over to the board to greet you, which he usually doesn’t do. When he meets you at the boards he’s quiet for a moment, you can’t quite read the subtle expression on his face.
“Do you want to come out here with me?” He asks, his question throwing you off a little.
“What, like early?” You ask.
“No,” he pauses, brows furrowed lightly. Is he nervous? “To skate.”
“You want me to skate with you?”
“That’s what I said. Hurry up before I change my mind.” He says, pushing off the boards and skating off. That’s all you needed to hear. You pick up your bag and rush over to the bench to put your skates on, triple checking the laces before going out onto the ice with him.
Levi meets up with you in the middle of the rink where you stand. “What should I do?” you ask, feeling lost without your usual directions.
“Whatever you want.” Levi says “Don’t you ever skate for fun?”
You think about it, and you can honestly say that you don't. You haven’t since your accident and even before you can’t think of the last time you went ice skating for anything other than to maintain or improve your skill. “No.” You shake your head lightly.
“Ah,” Levi hums “explains why you’re so damn hard on yourself. You know you should kind of enjoy this right?” His words sink deep, he’s right. You watch him as he zips off, all you can think to do is bits of your program from Nationals. You take out more of the extreme moves knowing Levi wouldn’t want you doing anything you haven’t worked much on during your sessions together.
It’s slow, it’s choppy, but you landed everything you attempted. You stayed balanced on your ankle every time you tried, but it’s so hard to be reminded that it’s not the same. Thoughts creep in swiftly. How could you ever compete again? Especially when even after all the improvement you couldn’t even stitch together a smooth program.
“It’s almost like you don’t need me anymore.” Levi comments as he meets back up with you. You wouldn’t say it outloud to him, but it only made you feel worse. It seems like Levi knows you more than you give him credit for. He doesn’t expand on that thought, but instead he asks if you want to try one with him.
You agree, it would make it fun just like the throws you practice. Levi gives you a sequence that’s easy to follow and of course only includes two of the simpler jumps the two of you have worked on together as of recently. Essentially this is a pairs program, which is entirely new to you.
Levi counts the two of you down to start off together, pushing off in sync you go through the motions with him. He starts off with his hand hovering over your lower back behind you, making sure you stay in line with him. Only when he’s sure you can stay in your path does he pull his hand back, allowing the two of you to go off into your first harmonized spin and jump combo.
After going through the routine two more times it’s almost flawless, even you could tell. You lean over with your hands on your knees “Do you want to try that throw?” You asked through labored breaths, though you were half joking. Levi won’t even entertain it.
“Absolutely not. You need a break anyways.” You catch your breath by the boards with Levi standing across from you, seemingly unphased by the repeated routine the two of you just did.
“Have you ever had Erwin come out here with you?”
“Tried. He says he doesn’t want to become one of my clients.”
You laugh before taking a drink from your water bottle and setting it back down on the ledge. You find yourself thinking over your routine with Levi again, and his words from earlier. You should be having fun skating and it was clear Levi did so you wonder.
“Do you ever miss competing?” You ask him, nervous that he may not appreciate the question.
“Every day.” His answer was not hesitant this time.
“You should get back into it.” You say softly.
“I can’t.” He replies and you can see by the look on his face it’s hard for him to talk about this. He’s being short, but not unwilling.
“Are you kidding? Levi, you’re incredible out there.” Your expression softens as you try to be hopeful, maybe he just needs to hear it from someone.
“That’s not my life anymore.” Out of all the weeks you’ve known him, you’ve never heard him sound so sad. Levi anxiously pulls at the hem of his sleeve before pulling it up and checking his watch “It’s time to start our session.”
You ease off it, watching as he moves to skate towards the center of the rink. For the first time you don’t look forward to your session, the more you complete the more it dawns on you; your time with Levi is almost up.
That’s when it hits you
An idea.
***
Nervous is an understatement. Honestly, you felt like you were driving yourself crazy. When you came up with this idea, you thought it through a million times. It’s the scariest thing because if it doesn’t work out you’re screwed. You couldn’t keep it to yourself, you needed advice, and who better to ask than your best friend.
Mikasa shows up around seven, prepared for your agreed upon sleepover plans made on Monday night with a set of comfy clothes and carry out from your favorite restaurant for dinner. When she let you know Friday night works for her you were thankful the weeks were going by so fast. You let her in and head straight to the couch, where you enjoy the meal while you start the first episode of a new series.
“Well,” Mikasa hums when the two of you mutually decide to take a break from the show. “you’ve been awfully quiet about how it’s going in therapy.”
You smile over at her, turning your body to face her. “Honestly? It was tough at first, I’m not going to lie. It’s a lot better now.”
“So Levi didn’t scare you off then?” She jokes. “He won’t tell me anything, says you’re a client like any other so,” she trails off.
“The opposite actually. He's,” You pause for a moment, breaking your eye contact with Mikasa. “He’s amazing. There’s no way I could have made any of the progress I have without him.” You tell her everything. Your progress in physical therapy, the clever ways Levi challenged your anxiety, even the throws and skating together before your sessions; another thing that became an unspoken addition to your routines with Levi.
“He even opened up a little bit here and there about some of the things he struggled with after his injury.” You mention, and Mikasa’s eyes shoot open. Genuine shock taking over her expression.
“Really?” She breathes.
“Just a little.” You say, shrugging. “I don’t know much, just that it seemed hard. I can’t even imagine.”
Mikasa takes a minute to think about how to respond. “We didn’t see him for over a year. He skipped birthdays, holidays. His mom was sick over it for so long.” Mikasa gets quiet again. “He wasn’t the same for a long time, to this day he won’t speak about it.” It was difficult to hear, but made you wonder why Levi was so different around you. Why would he be more willing to answer your questions over his own family? You were scared more than ever now to bring up the idea you’ve been holding in the whole night.
“It sounds like he really likes you.” Mikasa says. “Seems like he found a friend in you.” It sounds silly, even coming from Mikasa. At the end of the day you aren’t oblivious to the fact that you’re a client of Levi’s, not a friend. As much as you wanted to push back you had more pressing matters on your mind.
“Can I ask you something?” You brace yourself for the words that are about to come out of your mouth.
“Sure,” Mikasa says softly.
“It might sound crazy,” You begin nervously. “I was thinking about asking him to be my coach after therapy is finished. It’s a shot in the dark, but I know I can do it with him.” You can’t help but feel like along with advice, you’re also asking for her blessing.
“I think that’s a great idea.” A warm smile spreads across Mikasa’s face, her eyes lighting up.
***
A long sigh escaped your lips as you plop down on the bench, your whole body surging with ache. Levi had chosen the last week of sessions to work on the more advanced jumps and spins. It was more so to make sure he could send you off to your coach confident that you knew what you were doing, and that you would be able to build your skill back up while training for competitions.
Levi approaches you after he takes his own skates off, bumping your skate with his shoe to get your attention “What’s going on with you.” His tone laced with concern.
“Huh?” You pick your head up, your confusion painted clearly across your face.
“Something’s on your mind. This isn’t the week to lose focus.” He says plainly.
You shake your head, turning your gaze back down and directing your attention back on getting your skates off so there was no chance for him to read your facial expression. Proving him right. “Everything’s fine Levi,” You try to assure him. The truth is, you were trying to wait until the last day to ask him. That way if it went badly you’d never have to face him again. Part of you didn’t even know why you were so worried about it. You set your skate on your lap, dragging a cloth across the blade to dry it before putting it away.
“The past four sessions you’ve been somewhere else. Today you barely even spoke.” His words cut through your chest, you forget how observant he is sometimes. “This is the most important part, I can’t release you unprepared.”
“I didn’t fall once today.” You point out, in fact your session today felt a lot like your regular training. Just practicing to maintain.
“You know that’s not what I meant.” Levi says. “Don’t tell me you’re second guessing about getting back into competitive skating.”
You zip your bag up after dropping your other skate inside, whipping your attention back up at Levi. “No! Of course not.” You assure. Just looking at him hurts a little, you start to doubt your plan. It would uplift his whole career to take you under his wing, it almost felt selfish. You should be able to do this with Tarasov. Hell, she got you to Worlds the first time. You know reaching out to her this late would earn you being scolded for waiting until the last second.
Levi’s knit eyebrows relax and he drops his shoulders, visibly relieved. He stands there for a moment before letting out a sigh and giving up. “Fine, come back on Wednesday more sharp.” He turns around and heads off towards the door, picking up his own skate bag as he walks past it. Panic rises to the surface, you wish you could yell out to him, tell him you don’t want to have to do this with anyone other than him. In an instant you decide that you can do just that. You stand up and grab your bag, haphazardly stuffing your feet into your shoes before taking off after him. Your bag swishes behind you every time your shoes hit the ground
“Levi!” You don’t mean to shout so close behind him. He flinches when you grab his shoulder to stop him, causing him to turn and face you. “I lied, sorry.” you start.
“Alright. So what is it?” Levi says, one eyebrow raised as he tenses up slightly under your light grasp.
“Hear me out, okay?” You bite your lip, waiting for his confirmation and continuing when he tilts his head slightly. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot- the whole week actually. I think I’ve made so much progress with you, and I know this is our last week,” You aren’t holding back, and no matter how much your body screams to do so you don’t look away from him. “And I don’t need an answer right away, it’s sort of a big deal so-“
“Spit it out.” He cuts you off, his puzzled look now replaced with one of nervousness, eyes wide as he looks directly into your eyes.
“Levi, please will you be my coach?” You say it, finally able to catch your breath from the combination of sprinting after Levi and rambling with no breaths in between. “Like my real coach, after we finish therapy.”
Levi stares at you, his jaw slack. He almost looked.. appalled? You wish you knew exactly what’s going through his mind.
“I know it’s a huge request, like I said. Think about it.” You try. “I think we could take gold, really-“
“No.” Levi turns his head, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. Like he is physically unable to look at you. Time stands still, this is by far the worst case scenario that you feared.
“Wait..” You say in a hushed tone.
“The answer’s no.” He confirms, lips parted slightly like he wants to say more but nothing comes out. He takes a step back. “Just..I’ll see you Wednesday.” With that he turns completely and walks out, leaving you behind.
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#levi ackerman#captain levi#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman fanfiction#levi ackerman x fem!reader#levi ackerman x female reader#levi x you#Fic: Kintsugi
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It’s not that Steve didn’t want a tattoo.
He’d wanted one for years. Just something to piss off his parents the way they pissed him off constantly.
Asking when he’d find a girlfriend (he wouldn’t, he’s gay), when he’d find a better job (he liked his job as a guidance counselor), when he’d move out of the tiny apartment he shared with that girl who couldn’t give them grandchildren (Robin gagged at the mere thought of any of that).
But Robin promised she’d go with him when he made this appointment a month ago and she’d just cancelled at the last minute. Something about a work emergency.
She didn’t have a work emergency. She worked at a Starbucks.
He knew what she was doing. It’s what she always did.
“I just wanna get you out of your shell! People should see the Steve that I see!”
Robin did get a different version of Steve, one that didn’t feel like he had to hide his surprisingly bubbly personality. His students got a calm, kind counselor. But everyone else?
They’d be lucky to get a smile during a conversation.
He wasn’t, like, an asshole.
He just had asshole tendencies.
Robin called him her Oscar The Grouch.
He allowed it because deep down, he knew it was true.
And now he was even MORE grumpy because he had to get this tattoo alone. In a place he’d almost certainly be the outcast in his glasses and business casual attire. With people judging him for not already having tattoos and piercings at the age of 27.
Robin owed him.
When he walked into the shop, he was surprised to hear classic rock instead of heavy metal. The front counter was covered in pictures of bands Steve didn’t know, tattoos he would never get, and signs that had enough vulgar words to fill up the swear jar he kept in the apartment for shits and giggles.
Nervous was an understatement.
A head popped around the corner, bright smile lighting up the face of a man who looked like he belonged here.
“Be right there!”
Steve didn’t bother to say anything because as soon as he started to respond, the head was gone.
He frowned, but figured the guy might be with another client and he was pretty sure they had rules about touching things with their gloves on. At least, he hoped they did.
He stared down at the picture on his phone.
It was small, simple. Something he wouldn’t even have to cover up at work.
One of his students drew it for him last year when he’d missed some work because of the flu. He’d only missed two days, but because he so rarely missed, his regulars were pretty worried about him.
His regulars being three students who sat with him during their lunch period to avoid bullies.
It was a sun, with beautiful yellows and oranges combining into a near perfect circle, small lines randomly jutting out and fading into nothing.
It was beautiful art.
And he was getting it permanently etched onto his body.
He loved his students, what could he say?
The head popped back around the corner, interrupting his thoughts again.
“Sorry for the wait. I had a customer on the phone. How can I help ya?”
“Steve Harrington. Here for a 6:00 appointment?”
The guy beamed at him, nodding along.
“Perfect! You said you already knew what you wanted?”
Steve held up his phone to show this still nameless guy the picture.
“You want the colors like that?”
“If you can.”
“If I can, he says! Of course I can! This is really nice. Did you make this?”
Steve snorted, but he wasn’t that amused. This guy was like a ball of energy and Steve was already exhausted.
“No. One of my students did.”
“Oh, are you a teacher?”
“Guidance counselor.”
“That’s cool! So you, like, make sure the youths of today are on the right path? Keep them interested in the right things?”
Steve blinked at this man.
“I guess, yeah. So can we uh, get started…”
“Oh shit! I always forget to introduce myself to the newbies. Eddie.” He held out his hand towards Steve to shake. Steve stared down at it for a moment, knowing his face was doing that judgy thing Robin always warned him about, but not being able to stop it. “Not a handshake guy?”
Steve cleared his throat, finally reaching his hand up to shake Eddie’s.
The rings on Eddie’s fingers were cold against his own, his grip was strong but not the type of string that made Steve uncomfortable.
Eddie was smiling at him. He never stopped smiling, this guy.
It was kind of…cute. Steve would never admit it to anyone, but the way Eddie just seemed genuinely happy was really doing it for him.
That was annoying.
When he finally remember to let go, Eddie was already turning around to grab a piece of paper from the shelf behind him.
“I’m just gonna have you send that to this email,” he pointed to the contact info on the piece of paper he’d grabbed. “And I’ll get it printed on transfer paper so we can get started.”
Steve nodded and sent the picture as requested.
He ignored the shaking of his hands. It wasn’t a big deal. It’s just a tattoo. Most adults have them. Robin had four. Eddie here seemed to have hundreds.
Eddie must have noticed his visible anxiety. He felt Eddie’s hand on his arm, squeezing gently.
“First tattoo?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Nah. I’ve just done a lot of first tattoos.” Eddie pulled up the picture on his own phone while he spoke. “I promise it’ll be easier than you’re thinking.”
“I’m not worried about the pain.”
Eddie glanced up at him quickly, then back down at the phone in his hand.
“It’s just permanent, ya know?”
Eddie let out a laugh and held up both of his arms, fully covered in tattoos.
“I know. That’s what’s great. Nothing in life is permanent, but these are. Even when you’re long gone, these will still be on your body.”
Steve hadn’t thought about it like that.
Permanence was something he’d always struggled with. It’s why he was so standoffish according to the two therapists he’d tried talking to. His parents had never given him an idea of what someone staying around was like, his friendships all ended when he realized he wanted to be a better person than they were capable of being, and his only serious relationship ended when he was ready for marriage and she wasn’t.
He’d been through a lot of personal growth since then, most of it thanks to Robin and some experiences at the gay clubs she took him to, and now he felt better about who he was.
He just didn’t think anyone or anything would stick around.
Robin was proving she might, but only time would tell. Plenty of time for Steve to fuck it up.
“You can still back out, man. I won’t charge you the cancellation fee or anything.”
Oh, how nice. Eddie thought he was a wimp and wasn’t even gonna follow his own policy to let him back out.
That’s shameful. He was ashamed.
“Not backing out.”
He folded his arms in front of his chest, trying to tone down the glare he could feel on his own face.
Eddie threw his hands up as he waited for the printer to finish.
“Alright. Just letting you have an out.”
Eddie looked over the few copies he’d printed, all slightly different sizes, and then lined them up on the counter facing Steve.
“What size were you thinking? Where’s this going?”
Steve pointed to the middle one, barely an inch wide.
“I was thinking my wrist?”
Eddie smiled at him.
“Sounds good, sunshine.”
Oh. That was not good.
That little thing his stomach just did?
Nope. Not good at all.
Eddie walked around the counter and gestured for Steve to follow him around the corner.
Steve found himself in awe of the room he was walking into.
He’d never seen such variety in anything. Some of it resembled the front counter, but there was also a Bob Marley poster, a rainbow flag, a whole wall of funny bumper stickers, and graffiti along the ceiling.
It was certainly a lot for the eyes to take in.
Steve kind of loved it.
He even let out a smile.
He quickly hid it away again when he heard Eddie hit his hand against the chair.
“Got it all clean already for ya. Just take a seat and get comfy.” Eddie reached over grab some gloves from a shelf before he sat in front of Steve. “Gonna put this on you first. Make sure the placement is good. Then I’ll shave that area and get all my stuff ready to go. The tattoo itself probably won’t take more than an hour, and most of that will be shading these beautiful colors. Need anything before we get started? Water? Bathroom? Snack?”
Steve’s head was spinning.
Eddie’s energy was relentless, and he had a smile on his face the entire time.
Steve couldn’t help smiling back at him.
“I’m good. Thanks.”
Eddie nodded and started humming along to the song playing over the speakers.
He went through everything quickly, but still took his time explaining everything. Steve was kind of grateful he didn’t have to sit in silence; His brain wasn’t his friend when there was silence.
“Alright, sunshine. If you’re good, I’m good.”
Steve felt his face heat up, blush spreading from his cheeks to his neck.
“I’m good.”
And then he started.
It was sharp, the needles carving ink into his skin causing a new sensation up his entire arm. But it was also…good?
He’d expected it to be painful, maybe even go numb. He hadn’t expected the pain to feel like this.
He lost focus. Everything felt distant and blurry, but in a sleepy way, not in a pass out way. Steve felt himself smiling slightly, but didn’t have the energy to stop it.
He was watching Eddie work, but wasn’t really seeing anything beyond the way his fingers splayed his skin tight and the tattoo gun left ink behind.
His eyes closed at some point, but he wasn’t asleep, the faint buzz of the tattoo gun keeping him present enough to stay awake.
“Hey, sunshine. Doing alright?”
“Hm?”
He tried to focus in on Eddie’s face. Eddie was very close. He was holding his wrist.
Steve was still here.
“Need a break?”
“No. I’m good.”
Eddie chuckled. “I’d say so.”
He continued, and Steve let his mind wander again. It was nice to drift. He’d never felt this relaxed before, not even during the massage Robin got him for his birthday last year.
“Alright, sunshine. You’re done.”
Steve looked down at the tattoo now covering his wrist.
It was beautiful, even better than the picture.
He started to cry.
If he wasn’t so far gone, he’d probably be embarrassed or angry about it, but surely other people had cried after a tattoo before. Maybe Eddie would just ignore it.
“Oh, sweetheart. Do you not like it?”
“No. I love it.” Steve took a shaky breath, then another. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
Eddie was rubbing his back and smiling sadly down at him.
“I’m glad you love it. I just have to wrap it up and go over some care instructions, okay?”
“Okay.”
Steve was never this vulnerable, not even with Robin. He was pretty sure she’d only actually seen him cry once when a student moved away.
His whole thing was that he didn’t show emotions. His job required it to an extent, though he was always caring to his students, giving them smiles when they came in to make them feel welcome.
But here he was smiling and crying to a stranger over a tattoo.
“Sunshine?”
“Yeah?”
“Got you some water. I need you to look at me while I go over the instructions okay?”
“Okay.”
He felt himself coming back down to earth as he looked at Eddie, a soft smile making Steve focus in on his mouth.
“That’s good. Keep this wrapped for four hours at least and longer if you’ll be outside. When you take it off, make sure you wash it with antibacterial soap gently and then use moisturizing lotion, unscented is best. If you need some, I can give you some. Make sure to keep it moisturized over the next week. It’ll peel a little, that’s normal, but if you see anything that’s a lot of color falling out or something, come see me and I can fix it. No long exposure to direct sunlight for at least 4 weeks, and use sunscreen on it if you think you will be.” He took a breath and smirked. “Got it?”
“Um.”
He handed over a paper with a laugh.
“It’s all right here. I just needed you to come back down from space. Drink your water and relax for a minute. I’ll go get the card reader.”
Steve did as he was told, enjoying the way the ice cold water helped him focus back in on his surroundings.
With the focus came the grumpiness. He was crashing from his adrenaline high, and his first instinct was to pout.
He didn’t think he was visibly doing so until he heard Eddie snort from a few feet away.
“Welcome back. Sorry to burst your bubble. If I didn’t have another client in 20 minutes, I’d probably have let you stay there for a bit. Seems like you needed it.”
“I. What do you mean? I was just zoned out.”
Eddie froze where he was typing something into his phone.
“Have you never…? Oh. Jesus Christ. Okay. Well. I don’t.” He looked genuinely concerned about what to do. “Okay. I don’t feel comfortable letting you be alone yet. Do you have someone you live with or who can hang out for a bit?”
“My roommate had a work emergency or she’d be here.”
Steve’s arms were crossed again, but the pull of the wrap around his wrist reminded him of the dull ache he was still experiencing. It made him shiver, but he couldn’t explain why.
“Okay. Can you stick around for a bit? I’ve got an office with a couch in the back.”
“Are you gonna tell me why?”
“Ever heard of sub space?”
“Like…the kinky thing?”
Eddie facepalmed.
“Yeah. Like the kinky thing.”
“I mean, I’ve heard of it. Why?”
“You just spent the last hour in it.”
Steve was usually pretty good at keeping a pretty stoic face, but his jaw dropped.
“No I didn’t.”
“Sunshine, you were gone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone that deep from a tattoo before.”
“If this is just a way to get me alone in your office or something…”
“Steve. I know you don’t know me, but I would never do that. If I wanted to get you alone, I’d just ask you.”
“I’m sure I’d say no.”
“Exactly. So you’ll stay so I can keep an eye on you?”
Steve shrugged. He didn’t have anything else to do and Robin wouldn’t be home for hours.
“I guess.”
Eddie’s eyes were practically glittering.
“Good. Go lay down, sunshine. I’ll bring you more water in a minute.”
So despite Steve having no idea what just happened, and barely any idea who Eddie even was beyond a talented tattoo artist, he made his way to the office and curled up on the couch.
Pout firmly in place because he was still Steve, after all.
Chapter 2 / Chapter 3
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#ao3fic#tumblr drabbles#headcanon#my fic#tattoo artist eddie munson#first time tattoo Steve Harrington#grumpy Steve Harrington#sunshine Eddie Munson#grumpy sunshine trope#see how I made Eddie sunshine but his nickname for Steve is sunshine#see what I did there#if you want this to be like a whole THING let me know#because I kind of want it to be#accidental subspace Steve Harrington
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Reminiscent.
word count - 400
“How did you and (Y/N) meet?”
Harry, Alan and Tulisa were sat around the fire, Harry was taking slow sips from his water bottle as they all chatted.
You were down by the creek having a nice shower.
Harry cleared his throat. “— we met ten years ago the previous February, it was the day of my birthday and she had come to one of the shows with her uncle who was the head of security.”
“She walked backstage because her uncle had promised that she could meet us and the second she walked through the door…let’s just say I was gone for.”
Harry thought about that day, the way you walked through the door, your hair swaying behind you and your white converse plodding against the floor.
“We took a photo together that day, that’s hung on the wall by the entrance to our home,” Harry smiled fondly. “— I was scared to ask her on a date at first, because I didn’t want to piss her uncle off y’know, he was basically our tour dad, but when it was revealed that she would be joining us for our second tour, I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist myself.”
“How did it go when you did eventually ask her out?” Alan mused, pursing his lips. “— bet he was fuming.”
Harry laughed and shook his head. “Surprisingly enough, he didn’t kick off about it. He said that she was glad she was getting taken out by someone he knew was a gentleman.”
Tulisa groaned. “— that’s actually so cute.”
“We became a couple in 2014, moved in together by 2015, I proposed to her in 2019 and we got married in 2021.” Alan took notice of how Harry’s eyes glossed over when he thought about those dates.
“I never really thought I’d fall in love and settle down,” Harry twisted his wedding ring. “— but I’m so glad I did, she’s m’everything and more.”
“(Y/N)’s m’bestfriend,” Harry smiled when he looked at the camera and adjusted the bandana around his head.
Harry wiped at his eyes when he felt them tearing up. “— god m’such a sap.”
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Touch Me [Walter X GN!Reader]
Summary: You and Walter are currently the only two people awake on the colony ship headed for the outskirts of the galaxy. And while most people would find the company of a synthetic to be unsettling, you have come to realize you much prefer his presence over that of other humans. And perhaps you enjoy his company even more than you originally thought.
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Making out, implied sexual thoughts
Reader: Gender Neutral
Word Count: 3.1K
Notes: I recently rewatched the entire Alien franchise and rediscovered my love for Walter. Because of course my dumbass feels connected to an autistic-coded character...There really isn't much plot here, just self-indulgence via smooching a big, wholesome android. And, as always, no beta. I die a warrior's death.
Living with a synthetic is easy. Like a faithful company android should, Walter has always done exactly what he’s supposed to when he’s supposed to. He never interrupts your work unless absolutely necessary and he doesn’t dare disturb your sleep unless following explicit instructions from you or MUTHUR to wake you in time to complete your tasks.
In addition to being an efficient and reliable worker, Walter has also proven himself to be a surprisingly pleasant companion. Conversation, it seems, comes naturally for him and his seemingly endless internal database of poetry and literature means he can recite any one of your favorite stories upon request. Though it’s strange to admit, there’s a pleasantness to his voice that makes every encounter with him comforting.
In fact, the more time you’ve spent together, the more you’ve come to realize just how much you truly find pleasant about him. The mesmerizing tint of his electric blue eyes. The imperfection of his crooked smile when you tell him your worst jokes. The gentleness of his touch despite the inhuman strength of his body. You know these are all things that were programmed into him by some random company engineer years ago, but you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to him than a bunch of 0’s and 1’s. He’s not just a robot designed to serve man, he’s…Walter.
The stronger your connection feels over these first few weeks of travel, the bolder you get when it comes to exploring your affection for him. It starts with accidental brushes of the hand against his arm or a gentle press of your palm between his shoulder blades when you squeeze behind him in a tight corridor. Fleeting touches that can easily be written off as necessary interactions given the nature of your environment. He, of course, doesn’t seem to mind at all. Every time it happens, he responds to your apology or “excuse me” with a courteous little grin and a brief utterance of reassurance.
On a particularly bad day, when nothing seems to go right and the loneliness of space grips at your heart, you ask for his comfort and he obliges. His hand rests on your shoulder until it simply isn’t enough and you ask him to hold you. No request is too much for Walter, so sure enough you find yourself wrapped in his arms with your head resting on his chest. Even despite his lack of fleshy internal organs, you find he’s just as warm as any human would be. And when he murmurs soothing words in your ear, you realize that no human could possibly comfort you the way he can.
“Walter?”
“Yes?"
“Hugging you like this,” you murmur quietly into his charcoal sweatshirt, “Does it feel good for you?”
“If you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy embracing you, yes. I find it quite satisfactory.”
“Good.”
“Is this embrace satisfying for you?”
“Very."
“I’m glad.”
To your surprise, the hand that had come to rest in the center of your back begins to move in slow circles. When you shift beneath his touch, the movement ceases.
“Apologies,” he says as he abruptly steps away. The loss of contact leaves your body yearning for the comfort.
“No need to apologize, Walter. It’s fine, really. I…” You hesitate for a moment. “It felt nice.”
You stare each other down, both of you searching for answers to questions neither of you have asked. You know it’s probably just your mind playing tricks on you, but it seems as though he looks nervous. Then again, hard not to notice an aura of uncertainty coming from a presence that is usually nothing but certain.
“Have you ever touched someone like that before now?” You ask.
“No. I’m afraid it was never the company’s intention for synthetics such as myself to engage in intimate contact.”
You try to stow away some of the sheer sadness you feel knowing what he’s said is undoubtedly true. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?”
“Because that doesn’t seem fair. Being surrounded by people your whole life and knowing that none of them will ever hold you. Knowing that the people who created you never even wanted you to be held.”
“Fair or not, it is simply a part of my programming.”
You frown. It frustrates you to no end. No matter how many times he or the little voice in the back of your head tells you that he is simply an android following his programming, you want to argue that there’s more to it than that. That he genuinely exists and deserves to live.
“Aren’t you curious?”
“In regard to what exactly?”
“Touch. Don’t you ever wonder what it’d be like to truly be touched? To be held and caressed and cared for by someone else?”
“It is something I have pondered over from time to time, sure.”
Your heart is racing in your chest as you consider your words. It’s crazy, you know it is, but you can’t help yourself. “Would you like me to touch you?”
Walter’s head tilts to the left ever so slightly, much like a dog who’s heard his owner utter the name of his favorite toy in casual conversation. Those dazzling blue eyes blink a couple of times as he considers your question.
“Yes, I believe I would.”
An inaudible sigh of relief slips from your throat. You nod, more to yourself than to Walter, and step forward to close the distance between you. He doesn’t move in the slightest, just stands there and watches your every move with the scrutiny of a scientist at work.
You start by taking his right hand. Pulling it from his side, you raise it up into the space between your bodies. Your right thumb traces over his knuckles while your left hand gently pushes the sleeve of his sweatshirt up toward his elbow. Just like any human you’ve ever met, there are delicate hairs all along his forearm that jump back into place as the fabric of his sleeve slides past.
After watching those little hairs shift around exploratory strokes of your hand along the backside of his arm, you turn it over and trace the now exposed lines of his palm. You feel like those storied fortune tellers of old Earth who search for hidden meanings in the imperfections of a person’s skin. But instead of seeking out some clue to the distant future, it’s as if you’re seeking the very essence of humanity in Walter’s palm.
“You have a soft touch,” he notes as you ghost your fingertips over the almost velvety surface of his inner wrist.
Your eyes flick up to his face to find him still watching you with a nearly unreadable expression. “Does that bother you?”
“Not at all.”
Reassured by his response, you can’t help the tiny grin that pulls at the corner of your mouth. And as unbelievable as it sounds, Walter’s gaze seems soften at the sight of your smile.
Suddenly feeling as if you’ve been caught witnessing something you were never supposed to see, you hastily draw your focus away from his face and back down to the hand in your grasp. Your fingers trace the lines on his palm a few more times before you curl his fingers inward one by one. When every single digit has been bent into the familiar shape of a fist, you rotate his arm once again and bend his wrist back. Then, with painstaking patience that could drive a man insane, you slowly unravel his fingers with your own until your palms are flush against one another.
“Like Dürer’s Praying Hands.”
Sparing a glance upward once again, you see him gazing at your pressed hands with a nearly awestruck look in his eyes. The way he appears mesmerized by the very sight of this contact, you’d think he’s staring at the aforementioned German artwork itself.
You elect not to say anything, choosing instead to spread his fingers apart with your own. Once they’re fully splayed out, you slip your fingers in between those outstretched digits and tenderly grasp his hand. For the briefest moment, his fingers remain fully erect as if every joint in his hand is locked in place. But, like the sun setting upon its earthly horizon, they soon slowly fold downward until your hands are delicately intertwined.
There’s a tangible silence in the room as you both gaze upon your interlocked hands. The only sounds you can make out around you are the distant beeps of some far off console and the soft exhale of your own breath. And when Walter’s eyes shift from your hands to your face, that breath only grows heavier. He looks curious, anticipatory.
“I think I’m beginning to understand why humans hold hands as a gesture of affection.”
Your brow raises instinctively. “You like it?”
“It’s pleasant.”
“Would you be willing to let me touch your face?”
He blinks, seemingly processing the inquiry. Then he replies, “Of course.”
Using your free hand, you reach up and gently cup your palm along his jaw. As usual, he doesn’t even flinch at the new touch. He just keeps his eyes locked on you while you explore the new frontier that is his visage.
At first, you examine his face like a parent searching their child for minor cuts and bruises after an afternoon of rough housing in the backyard. It’s gentle, yet full of meticulous observation. Intimate in a way only familial touch can be.
But after a while, you become familiar with the feeling of his skin and allow yourself to truly caress the face before you. Fingertips press into the most delicate patches of skin at the back of the jaw. Your thumb tenderly rubs his cheekbone as the butt of your palm teeters at the edge of his mouth. It’s not your intention to feel his lips just yet but it can’t be helped when your skin brushes past them. And just like a human’s lips would be, they are tantalizingly supple against your skin.
Goosebumps crawl up your forearm when you feel his breath tickle the inside of your wrist. Witnessing him breathe is one of those things that never ceases to fascinate you or quell your incessant desire to prove Walter is more than just some carbon copy synthetic. What need would an artificial person have to breathe if they were simply meant to be servants for mankind? Why make them so incredibly real if they aren’t supposed to live a real life? Why strive to recreate the inherently flawed design of the human body if they aren’t meant to be human?
“Is everything alright?”
Walter’s voice draws you out of your thoughts so violently that he may as well have shoved you out of the airlock. You blink yourself back to consciousness and are startled to find your thumb resting at the edge of his top lip, your hand still cupped along the sharp line of his jaw. His breath continues to tickle your wrist with every exhale.
“Y-yeah,” you stammer as you reposition your hand away from his mouth, “Everything’s fine.”
“You’re displaying early symptoms of common influenza,” he counters matter-of-factly, eyes piercing right through the shield of your lie. “Your heart rate is elevated and your body temperature has increased by half a degree.”
Your body temperature may have only risen by a fraction of a degree but it may as well be several dozen considering the sheer heat scalding your cheeks. The thudding of your heartbeat has become incessantly loud and your breath nearly gets trapped in your throat.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt as you pull yourself alway from him.
His brow immediately furrows with confusion. And if you dared to study his expression any longer, you may find the look on his face hints at disappointment.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand why you’re apologizing. You’ve done nothing wrong. If you are unwell, I would be happy to tend to you in the medical bay.”
“No!” The urgency in your voice catches you off guard. You swallow the lump in your throat, hoping it will take some of the embarrassment down with it. “Thank you. But, I’m not sick, Walter, I promise. I’m just…Nervous.”
His head tilts again. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re actively staving off immense shame for your handling of the whole situation, you might actually be able to acknowledge just how endearing you find that little tick of his.
“May I ask why you are nervous?”
A breathy chuckle escapes the confines of your throat. A nervous laugh that you had no intention of letting out. Walter appears even more puzzled by the reaction.
“I’m nervous because I’m touching you,” you admit, “Because touching you is something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time now. And because now that I’ve done so, I want to keep doing it.”
“Then why did you stop?"
It’s a question you weren’t expecting. But, of course Walter would be the one to bypass formalities and outright ask the hard questions.
“Because I feel guilty.”
“Guilt would imply that you’ve committed an offense or violation.”
“Running my hands over your body and caressing your face like you’re my lover sure as hell feels like a violation,” you argue.
Despite your tone growing erratic, he remains as stoic as ever. “I guarantee you, it isn’t. You asked for permission and I granted it.”
To your utter surprise, he reaches out and gently grabs you by the wrist. Despite your astonishment at his decision to reinitiate the contact, you don’t argue or pull away when he guides your hand back up to his face. Deep down you know this is the outcome you truly want, even if it’s one you never imagined you could have.
“Feel no guilt,” he says as your hand comes to its resting place along his jaw, “I want you to touch me.”
Your heart skips a beat at those words. It’s a statement that makes your mind race faster than any engine in the universe. Sexual innuendos and Freudian subconscious aside, the significance of his declaration isn’t lost on you. He isn’t just standing there, letting you explore his visage like some statue being admired by museum patrons. He’s now an active participant driven by his own desire to be caressed. To be caressed by you.
The mere notion of him wanting this is enough to conquer most of your hesitancy. Swallowing whatever fear remains, you bring your other hand up so that you’re cupping his face between them both. Your thumbs stroke at his cheekbones.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” His voice is soft, restrained. He knows it’s dangerous to spook an already anxious animal.
You dwell on his words for a moment. His eyes, sharp and disarming as always, seem to peer right through your orbital cavity and into your brain itself. If he looks hard enough, he may very well discover the thoughts that are tucked away inside your mind without you even needing to put them into words.
Before you can convince yourself not to, you say, “You’re beautiful.”
He blinks. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting that.
“The color of your eyes. The shape of your lips. The strength of your jaw.” You all but sigh as you trace the line of his jawbone with your middle finger. “I admire everything about you.”
“And what about the fact that I’m not actually human? Do you find that unsettling?”
You shake your head. “No.”
“Why is that?”
You nearly scoff at the question. “Because you could introduce me to a hundred strangers on Earth and I can almost guarantee you that you’re more human than most of them. You have shown me more kindness and empathy than half the people I’ve met in my lifetime.” You slide one hand down to his chest, splaying your fingers out over the spot where his heart should sit. “It doesn’t matter what parts you have or what fluid flows through your veins. I still care for you, Walter.”
In a way, you feel exposed. You never fully considered just how deeply you feel for him. Though, the more you think about it, the more you realize that it shouldn’t be much of a shock at all.
“I would like to kiss you.”
Now there’s a shocking statement.
“What?” You stare at him in awe, unsure that you heard him correctly.
“I said that I would like to kiss you,” he states, “If you find such contact to be agreeable, of course.”
Words are unattainable for you in that moment so you settle for a nod.
He leans in and kisses you softly. He’s so careful, so unbearably gentle that it feels like his lips simply ghost over yours. It isn’t unpleasant, of course. It’s simply too delicate. The whole thing is over before your brain can even process what’s happening. It leaves you yearning for more.
When he pulls back to look at you, he can see the dissatisfaction painted on your face. “Did I do it incorrectly?”
“It wasn’t…wrong. It was just very quick. And much softer than I was expecting.”
“I see.” He thinks for a moment before adding, “Would you like to do it again your way?”
“You want me to kiss you?”
“Yes.”
His eyes instinctively lock on your mouth to watch as your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. “Okay.”
You reposition your right hand from his chest to the side of his neck and pull him back toward you. When you kiss him, you do so with passion. Your lips find his like a drowning man resurfacing for air after being jostled by the sea. Not violent, but desperate, as if Walter’s kiss could save your life in the cold vacuum of space.
He may not know what he’s doing, but what he’s doing is right. When your tongue presses against his lip, he opens his mouth to welcome it. When you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, he shifts just enough to make it deeper. When your nails dig into his skin to drag him closer, his hands find shelter upon your waist to steady himself. He may be a synthetic by design, but it’s clear from the way he kisses that he is human by nature.
You’re nearly gasping by the time you break the kiss. The breathless wonder of a good kiss is a feeling you have sorely missed and, judging by the blissful look in Walter’s eyes, it seems he’s just experienced something similar for the very first time.
“I have to admit, I prefer your method,” he muses as a tiny grin pricks at the corner of his mouth.
You can’t help but return that grin with a big smile of your own. Your thumb grazes across his bottom lip. “Well, good news: you and I have a lot of time to explore more methods, if you want.”
“I fear there isn’t anything you could offer that I wouldn’t want now.”
#This went from a quick blurb to a full-on one-shot so fucking fast#Can you tell I'm a touch starved man who wants to love this touch starved robo-babe?#Need more Walter content ASAP#Walter One X Reader#Walter One X GN!Reader#Reader Insert#Alien Covenant#Alien Covenant Reader Insert#Walter One#Michael Fassbender X Reader
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Sleepy Bear
Summary: Natasha finds an unusual way to help you sleep
Word Count: 1.1k
Parings (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)
Warnings: none I believe :))
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You had no idea how long your girlfriend had been doing this for you. Sleep had never come easy to you, only did you get a rest when your exhaustion would force your body to shut down. Your thoughts leave you restless each night, the anxiety had always been there. Your mom started you in therapy when you were 7, the nightmares should have stopped by then. She tired everything, your mother, each week was a new medication. Your dad on the other hand, he couldn’t have cared less. It was him who marched you into the hospital demanding they scanned your ‘daft brain’ as he put it. There was nothing to be found. Years of therapy only brought the diagnosis of anxiety, much to the disappointment of your father. Dr Grey was a nice lady, but she couldn’t quite solve your problems. You were too young to put your anxiety into words, you just knew it made you too scared to sleep. You stopped therapy after your mom died and your dad refused to pay, you were left to your own devices.
You met Natasha 2 years ago at the coffee shop you work at. She fell head over heels the second she laid her eyes on you, not that she’d ever tell you that. You had your eyes on her too, it took you months to realise that she was purposely going out of her way to visit the shop multiple times a week. It started with lasting looks and then lingering touches when you passed the redhead her iced caramel oat milk latte. Soon you were slipping her extra cookies and then one day she slipped you her number, you never looked back after that day. After a few months you finally let Natasha come over to your apartment, she was horrified at the state you were living in, sleep was the last of your worries. Your dad kicked you out after you told him you were gay, you took what you could and found the cheapest little studio available. The paint was chipped all over, the cooker didn’t work and you were on the verge of eviction. The widow was desperate to move you into the compound, despite your discomfort at the idea. Eventually you agreed to take residence in one of the spare rooms, and surprisingly you settled in straight away. Your life fell back on track after that and you and Natasha had grown closer and stronger than ever, you even shared a room now, Natasha had to move the ring in her bedside draw to Clint’s room.
A slightly sharp corner had you stirring slightly, the assassin quick to flash you a worried glance. You settled again straight away, rolling your face into the cold window. The day you had finally told Natasha about your anxiety was a relief, you cried for hours that wednesday. Since your mother, no one had been so kind. You were so afraid she would run a mile, but she sat with you for all those hours, just holding you. Nat promised to spend every sleepless night with you, lord knows she had her own problems when it came to sleep, but you somehow found comfort in each others restless nights. Often you would take turns in reading to each other, some nights you would go for a stroll around the grounds of the compound. But your favourite form of medicine was the car. Natasha would wrap you up in her fluffy blanket and strap you snug into the passenger seat, the gentle hum and sway of the motor would eventually lull you into a slumber. It took months for your girlfriend to convince you to even try the idea, you hated it at first, what did she think you were, a baby? “I know you’re not an actual baby, but your my baby” she would say “let me take care of you” how she even thought of the plan was a mystery to you and you definitely didn’t want to admit it was working.
Natasha pulled into the 24 hour gas station, the car coming to a scratchy stop. “Mm, Tasha?” You mumbled, half asleep still. “I’m here sweetheart, I just need to get some gas” she said “would you like some snacks? Or do you wanna sleep a little longer?” Your belly rumbled right on cue “choccy biscuit” maybe you were still a baby at heart, “one pack of chocolate biscuits coming right up” the beautiful red head said, oh how you thought her locks were just gorgeous. “You’re so pretty” you whispered, eyes only half open “thank you baby” Natasha laid a kiss on your warm lips and you couldn’t stop the little squeal that escaped you. She wasn’t gone long enough for you to miss her, considering you continued to doze in her absence. You heard the familiar commotion of your girlfriend climbing back into the drivers seat, you peeled your eyes open to give her a sleepy smile “here you go sleepy bear” your favourite biscuits were deposited into your lap and you whispered a small thanks.
You contently nibbled for the 45 minute journey back to the compound, while Natasha quietly sang along to whatever trash was on the late night radio, you always thought they played the worse songs during the early hours of the morning. A quick glance at the clock told you it was 2:36am, Natasha had been driving you to sleep for over an hour, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for you. “I love you” you said, breaking the silence “I love you too y/n” Natasha replied, a bit unsure at why you were suddenly all mushy. “No” you continued “I really love you” a red light gave Nat the chance to flash you another worried look, she softened when you saw your eyes glistening back at her, and the smile engraved on your face “you’re welcome baby girl” you swear she could read your mind. With the conversation at a happy standstill you decided to close your eyes again, just for a little nap until you were home.
When you stirred again, the rough car seat had become your plush mattress and your head was laying comfortably on your pillow. It quickly became Natasha’s as she climbed into bed with you “can I have my own pillow sleepy?” She giggled “no” you sighed, carrying the sound to the end of your breath “it smells like you” you mumbled “but I’m right here?” The widow kindly shot back “oh yeah” you said, eyes still tightly shut, you still failed to roll back over though. “You’re not gonna move are you?” Natasha said, you shook your head against her arm and she didn’t hesitate to haul you up into lap, her arms wrapped tightly around your waist and your head perfectly slotted into the crook of her neck. “Sweet dreams y/n” Natasha wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep that ring locked away.
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I wrote this when I couldn’t sleep and I almost cried
-Astara
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Astronomy Tower
Snape x student reader PLANTONIC
A/n: So this was a request. Sorry it took so long to write but here it is I hope you like it. <333 Requests will be taking a while bc school is starting and yeah. All honors classes when you take 7 classes is hard to managed lolol.
Warnings: Sewerslide, bullying, neglectful parents, emotional distress (if I missed anything pls tell me)
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Wednesday 8:00 AM Great Hall
You sat alone at the end of your house table, hunched over some cereal. It had gone soggy a while ago, so you just picked at it instead of actually eating it; your mind was elsewhere anyway. You looked longingly at your housemates at the front of the table. They all seemed to be happy and content in their lives. They all seemed to have everything they could ever want and everything you could ever wish for. A functional family, friends, family that actually likes them.
A loud whooshing sound was heard overhead, and you looked up to see the post being delivered. You paid no mind to it as you never received mail anyways, but this morning was different. A barn owl swooped down into your cereal, splashing it all over you. It dropped a thick letter in front of you, thankfully not in a puddle of mushy cereal and milk. You take the letter and open it to surprisingly find that your parents have written to you.
Y/N I hope there is someone in the castle that will take pity on you. We have moved into a new house. It does not have space for you unless you wish to sleep in the shed, but we have plans for that, so we cannot let you stay there. You are not welcome back this summer, is what we are saying. You already know not to bother coming for the holidays. But about our new house. It is on the coast with a beautiful view of the sea. 5 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms…
You did not bother reading the rest of the letter. You did not care for the details of their lavish new house. You already got the point—that you were not welcome to come back. You supposed it did not matter as you were not planning on making it to summer anyways.
It did not really hurt your feelings as you thought over this. You didn’t much like them anyway. You longed for a nice, loving family or parental figure at least, but just not them. There was someone you could consider a parental figure. You saw him every day from noon to two in the afternoon. In the dungeons, surrounded by cauldrons and ingredients, and what not. He had black greasy hair down to his shoulders, a hooked nose, and a demeanor that was supposed to deter people away from him.
You weren't, though. You had a talent for potions, which he seemed to like in you. It started when he offered to give you private lessons a year above the year you were in. He figured you were at that level. You took him up on the opportunity. Every Wednesday night from 5 to 7, you were in the potions classroom brewing potions for the next year. It has been the only thing making your life worthwhile.
After you got comfortable being in his presence alone, you two got to talking about various things. Anything you could think of to fill the silence. He eventually passively asked why your non-uniform clothes looked so bad. He was never one to sugarcoat. You explained your parents' distaste for you. Conveniently, you found 8 new outfits, a pack of socks, and a pack of underwear on your bed the next day with a small note saying, “If you ever bring this up, I will burn all of it.”
You thought back on the memory with great fondness. You still had all of the clothes he had gotten you that day. He had been the only person at Hogwarts to ever give you a gift of any kind.
You sat in the Great Hall for a few more moments with your thoughts. Now that you were not welcome to come back home, where would you go exactly? It would be better if you did not exist, and you supposed that was always an option, but what exactly would people think of you if you did that? Well, it wouldn’t matter if you were gone.
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Wednesday 11:50 AM Dungeons
The Potions master had told you a secret passage to get to the dungeons quicker. You took it every day, hoping to avoid the various people you could stumble across that you did not like. Such as the one that you were looking at right now.
She made it her life's mission to make your life hell. You weren’t entirely sure why, but whatever made her happy, you supposed.
“Saw your letter this morning,” the girl in front of you laughed. “Are your parents finally sending you off for being such a disappointment?” Her friends laughed behind her, almost cackling.
Your shoulder slumped and your eyebrows furrowed; something must be wrong with her, as this one's insults were usually much more painful with this. Before you could question her if she was alright going to make a remark about her boyfriend shagging other girls in the halls again, Professor Snape's voice rang through the halls.
“Good afternoon,” he said coolly. Immediately the girl in front of you straightened up and turned quickly. She was quite terrified of him. He held a strong disliking for her, knowing she was quite awful to you. It grated on her nerves that he did not like her, often taking it out on you since he did like you.
“Professor Snape,” she said with a high, sickeningly sweet voice, “th- they called me ugly.” She stammered out and attempted to fake a cry. Her hands balled into fists as she screwed her eyes shut, trying to force a tear or two out. Immediately all of her little friends began to back her up, nodding their heads and adding on to her story.
Professor Snape nods his head and stares at her for a moment before catching your eye. He narrows his eyes at you and looks you up and down as if he’s trying to see through you. He then looks back to the girl and asks, “Did you know that when you lie, you ball your hands into fists?” His voice was cold as he stared at her as she realized her hands were indeed balled into fists. Quickly, as if she were a child caught trying to sneak a cookie, she and her friends scrambled off down the hall and up the dungeon stairs.
Snape sighed and looked back at you with an overly dramatic, disappointed look, shaking his head dramatically and sighing. “Calling other students ugly. Detention [y/l/n]. My class today. Starting at 5,” he gave you a small grin before quickly dropping it, not wanting anyone else to see it. Before he begins his walk back to his class, expecting you to follow.
You grin back before following right beside him, “What are we brewing today?”
He delves into the details of what you will be brewing as you arrive at his classroom. You already know how to brew it, having learned last year. No one else is there yet, as you are early, and most try to come to his class as late as they can without penalty. You dump your stuff at your seat, which is surprisingly at the back of the class, out of his sight for the most part. He had requested you sit back there as, “I trust you won’t blow something up; others I can’t say the same for.” So you sat at the back of the classroom so he could keep an easier eye on other students.
“My parents have moved into a new house,” you tell him as you lean against one of the tables that is closer to his desk.
He hums in acknowledgement, nodding his head slightly to show he is not ignoring you, “but apparently they do not have room for me in said house. So I guess over the summer I’m staying at Diagon Alley or something.”
His head shoots up, eyes glaring at you. “That is not something to joke about.”
“I’m not joking,” you grab the letter that you had stuffed in your robes and hand it to him. He suspiciously takes it and reads over the first part of it; you assume he made it about as far as you did before he put the letter down, staring at you dumbfounded. A glint of anger was in his eyes, but he was doing well to hide it. “Well, you could stay at—” He did not get to finish, however, because a group of Ravenclaws walked in, loudly chattering about the latest updates to their common room.
You quickly return to the back of the class, where your seat is. You gather up the ingredients that you know you will need today, occasionally catching the Potions Master's eye. The hint of anger had still not left his eye as the class progressed. If anything, as students messed up their potions left and right, it only seemed to intensify.
Unfortunately, you did not get the chance to speak with him after class either, as some Slytherin boy had somehow managed to explode his potion. Sending shards of his now broken cauldron everywhere. None of it hit you, but others were not so lucky. Leaving Professor Snape to usher some to the hospital wing.
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Wednesday 6 PM Potions Classroom
It had been an hour into your lesson, except it wasn’t really a lesson this time. He was just sitting there quietly grading papers some 2nd years had written. Of course you two had had nights like this where you did not brew a potion or he did not give you advice, but you usually talked about something at least. This was plain torture. You had attempted to talk a few times, asking about his day or how the exploding cauldron had gone, and all you would get in response was a few quiet mumbles you could not make out.
So you sat in your chair with your thoughts staring at the wall behind him. You had been thinking earlier that day. During a free period, you wrote a letter. Well, you wrote a few, but there was only one you put any amount of effort into. The letter to Professor Severus Snape. Who now seemed as if he was ignoring you, but that was beside the point. You knew what needed to be done. You did not provide good to the world; you were not wanted at school or home, so it was better to remove yourself from the equation.
As you mulled over your thoughts, Snape stood up and looked down at you, “It’s 7. You should head to dinner. Get something to eat.” He had no emotion to his voice, just a plain, monotone sound.
“Oh, yeah,” you stand from your seat, your knees cracking a bit. You walk towards the door before you stop and turn back around. “Professor, take this,” you hand him the letter, “but don’t read it until dinner is completely over.” Before he can respond, you walk out of his classroom and begin your jog from the lowest point in the castle to the highest.
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Wednesday 7:45 PM Potions Classroom
No one ever willingly visited Professor Snape's classroom, and since he had no detentions scheduled for tonight, he was free to do basically whatever he pleases. However, something was poking at his thoughts. The letter.
His students had given it to him and then basically ran out of his classroom. Of course he was suspicious of what it was, but they told him not to open it until after dinner time was over completely. That would be 15 minutes from now. He did not want to go against their wishes, but it was indeed very hard knowing how they ran out like that.
There was also a nagging feeling in his gut that maybe he should go ahead and look. If something was wrong, then he could stop it early. Or if it was a prank letter set to go off after a certain time, he would not get pranked.
He decided to go with his gut and tore into the letter. It was handwritten, and he immediately recognized the students handwriting.
Dear Professor Snape, I wanted to thank you for being so good to me during my time at Hogwarts. I will never forget it. You are a wonderful teacher and a wonderful person to learn from. I see you as more than a teacher but as somewhat of a father. Considering mine is the way he is, I suppose the bar isn’t very high, is it? Oh well. Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I’m sorry I always pestered you so much and took up your time. By the time you read this, I will be gone for good. Thank you, Professor Snape. For everything. Sincerely, [y/n]
His hands shook as he read the letter, not believing what he was reading. He realized he might not be too late and immediately began his search for you. He was not sure where you were, but he knew where most students would go if they got the idea to do this.
The stairs are what would slow most people down; luckily for him, he could fly. So fast as he could, as soon as he got to those stairs, he began his ascent. Flying past them as quickly as he could, terrified he would arrive at the top to find he was too late.
To his great relief, when he reached the top, he saw the silhouette of you standing at the edge of the tower. Carefully he crept up behind you, not making a sound, then suddenly he snatched you away from the edge. He grabbed you by your midsection, wrapping his arms around you and turning forcefully to bring you away from the edge of the tower, giving you no chance to fight him at all.
“You idiotic child, what are you thinking?” He immediately starts to scold you for not thinking about what you might be feeling. He quickly sees the tears and fear on your face and stops a look of shock coming across his own face. “Wait, no quit, stop crying,” he stares at you for a moment before averting his eyes and uncomfortably hugging you.
He’s not quite sure what to do in this situation, but when you melt into him and start to sob onto his shoulder, he goes ahead and makes himself comfy on the floor, determining he will be here for quite a while. You cling onto him, sobbing violently, until you suddenly choke out, “I’m sorry.”
“Don't be,” he just says quietly as he holds onto you. He rubs your back, hoping you will feel a bit soothed by this. He keeps you close to him, just holding on to you and rubbing your back as you cry on him.
Once you calm down some, he carefully pulls you back from him. “Why on Earth would you think of doing something like that?”
“No one wants me, even my parents; they don’t want me.” You start to panic again, tears forming again, but he hushes you quickly, pulling you to him again and rubbing your back.
“I was going to offer you to stay with me if you wanted. There is a program founded by Hogwarts that all of the teachers are required to be signed up for. They are able to take in students that have bad home lives. Almost every teacher here has done it at some point,” he gently explains to you, keeping his arms firm around you, noticing your starting to shiver because of the cold air.
You look up at him shocked, and he quickly starts to speak again. “I mean, if you want, you can always go to Professor McGonagall or Professor-”
"No, I want to stay with you. Can I actually?” you ask excitedly, your heart swelling at the thought of having a place to live this summer. With someone you actually like this summer.
“You can. How about we worry about that later and get down from the astronomy tower?” he suggests.
You nod, noticing how cold you were. You wipe your face before getting up and following him down the stairs of the tower. For the most part, the walk was quiet, the only sound being the sound of your footsteps until he spoke in a low tone, “You know I care about you? You're my favorite student.”
You look over at him, surprised by his sudden words, but nod, “I figured I was your favorite.”
“If you think of throwing yourself off some large object again, how about you come to my office next time? Promise me you will.”
You nod your head, “I promise, Professor.”
#severus snape#pro snape#pro severus#pro severus snape#professor snape#snape#snape fandom#snape fluff#snape x reader#snape x reader fluff#snape x student plantonic#platonic severus x reader#platonic#x reader#angst#platonic relationships
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Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 20 FINAL | S.R
Previous Chapter
Chapter Summary - It’s eight months later and Spencer’s life has changed dramatically. Did he ever get his happy ending?
A/N - Final chapter folks! 'Bout time, right?
Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader
Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.
Warnings - some light angst but overall long overdue fluff. WC - 5.3k
Chapter 20 - First Day of My Life
And I don't know where I am, I don't know where I've been,
But I know where I want to go.
And so I thought I'd let you know,
Yeah, these things take forever, I especially am slow,
But I realised that I need you,
And I wondered if I could come home.
“How did you find me?”
“I know a guy.”
“What do you want?”
“It’s time we had a long overdue talk.”
“What could we possibly have to talk about?”
“Spencer. We need to talk about Spencer.”
***
Eight Months Later
Spencer Reid had a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he slotted the last handful of books into their new home on the bookshelf in his new office.
He ran his fingers over the spines and the smile started to take route, blossoming and growing until it reached all the way to his eyes.
He surveyed the room, tucked away at the back of the second storey of his new home. His old trusty desk sat beneath the old bay windows with the most gorgeous lighting drifting in through the open curtains from the surprisingly glorious winter day outside.
He slid into his leather chair and brushed his fingertips over the dark wood desk.
He’d officially moved into the old gothic style house back in the fall and the rest of the home had come together nicely. But his office had been a slow process, a tiring process.
This room more than any others in the new house had to be perfect. He would be spending a lot of time in this room and it had to be just right. And after weeks of shuffling furniture around, it finally fit his criteria.
Eight months ago Spencer had made a decision about his future. He’d quit teaching, never returning to Georgetown after the summer break. Instead he struck a deal with BAU Unit Chief Emily Prentiss.
On the weeks Maeve had the girls he would work from Quantico or go away with the team on cases. When he had the girls he would work from his home office as a consultant.
His FBI badge sat next to his computer along with his new credentials and every time he looked at them he couldn’t help but smile.
The BAU was his home. In all the years since he’d left he’d felt like something was missing from his life. But now he had found his way back to his rightful place in the world.
It allowed him to feel fulfilled in both his home and work life. He didn’t have to give up any of his precious time spent with his daughters and he was able to work a job he loved with every fibre of his being.
Since the incident the night of the art show, Spencer had not had a single sip of alcohol. He was closing in on nine months sober and honestly he’d never felt better.
He still took his antidepressants, but a much lower dose now and he’d quit seeing Doctor Sanchez months ago.
His relationship was Maeve had slowly repaired itself over time to the point he would now call her one of his closest friends.
Eight months ago he would never have believed he could be this happy again. But it just went to show what a little hard work and determination could do.
He ran his fingers over the desk again as he got to his feet. He walked past the desk and across the room.
In the doorway he turned back for one last glance around the room.
Yes, everything was falling into place.
***
You fought with the zipper on the back of your dress, huffing and puffing through excretion. When you finally got the thing all the way up your arms fell back to your sides and you let out a large breath.
You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, turning this way and that and scrutinising your appearance. You’d looked better, that was for sure. But given the circumstances you didn’t look half bad.
The pile of papers on the dresser caught your gaze through the mirror and you rolled your eyes as they seemingly taunted you.
Tomorrow was paperwork day. Today there were more pressing things at hand.
You’d received your doctorate in August and since Doctor Spencer Reid’s sudden resignation from the university you had taken over teaching his classes.
It wasn’t your end goal, but for now you couldn’t deny you loved teaching. Maybe one day you’d look elsewhere but as of right now you quite liked your place in the world.
The past eight months had been a whirlwind to say the least, and where you’d found yourself was not at all where you imagined ending up. But you couldn’t pretend you weren’t happy where you were.
You moved over to the bed, your stomach coiling a little as you sat down on the edge of it. You slipped your feet into your shoes as your mind wandered back some eight months.
“How did you find me?” You scrutinised the woman on your doorstep, recognising her from one fleeting sighting of her some time ago.
“I know a guy.” She shrugged simply.
“What do you want?” You folded your arms across your chest.
She was the last person you expected to see here and the last person you wanted to be face to face with.
“It’s time we had a long overdue talk.” She mirrored your action and crossed her own arms.
“What could we possibly have to talk about?” You scoffed.
“Spencer.” She rolled her eyes. “We need to talk about Spencer.”
Having the former Mrs Reid show up at your apartment had thrown you through a loop. You’d been so shell shocked you’d actually invited her inside.
Maeve proceeded to tell you all the reasons you needed to give Spencer a second chance. She explained to you why he’d lied to you about not being in love with you, how he was simply trying to protect himself from getting hurt again.
She went into great detail about how she knew you and Spencer belonged together and that you were the loves of each other's lives.
You hadn’t spoken much, simply listened. And when she left she tried to put the whole thing behind you so you could move on. You still had no idea to this day how she knew where you lived and could only assume someone at the BAU had given her the intel.
Two months later you’d gone back to work to find Spencer had quit the university. And for some reason the thought of never seeing him again undid all the hard work you’d put in over the summer to get over him.
“Y/N?” He blinked at you as though he wasn’t sure he trusted his own eyes. “Uh, what are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?” You hugged your arms around yourself.
“Yeah, sure. The place is still a mess, I literally only moved in a few days ago.” He held open the door to his new home and let you inside.
Boxes were piled up all over the place. A couch and a coffee table were the only visible furniture.
“How did you know where I live?” He hovered between piles of boxes.
“Maeve,” you croaked. “She came to me a few months ago and left me her number. I didn’t ever expect to use it but when I found out you’d quit I just…I wanted to know why. So I called her and she gave me your address, said she has the girls this week.”
“Maeve came to you? Why?” He frowned, scratching at the back of his head.
“She wanted to explain some things. About you. About why you lied to me.”
“Right,” his frown deepened.
“So why did you quit?”
“That’s why you came here? Really? You want to know why I quit Georgetown? I haven't seen or heard from you in months and that’s what you came here for?” He looked at you somewhat indignantly.
“They offered me your job. I just want to know if you plan on coming back before I take it.” You shrugged.
“You got your doctorate?” His lip quivered into something resembling a smile.
“I did. So are you coming back or can I take your job?”
“I rejoined the BAU.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. “Not a full caseload like I used to work, I can fit my hours around the girls now Maeve and I have joint custody. It’s where I belong.”
“Fine.” You finally let your arms fall to your sides. “That’s all I came here for.”
You turned away from him, back towards the old mahogany front door with the stained glass window in the centre but you didn’t get very far.
“I shouldn’t have lied to you.” He spoke and when you turned back around he was a few steps closer to you. “I thought I was protecting us both but really I was only hurting us.”
“I didn’t come here for this.” You shook your head.
“Well you certainly didn’t come all the way out here to ask if I was coming back to work.” He chuckled dryly. “I may always have complicated feelings towards my ex but my feelings for you are anything but. I love you Y/N. I love you more than words can describe and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please don’t walk away. Please give me another chance.”
Your eyes misted with tears but you were not going to let them fall. You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes of keeping them at bay.
You straightened your back, clenched your jaw and spat a simple, “no.”
You pushed yourself up, wobbling slightly as you did so. You pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes to try to ease the dizziness.
You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, smoothing down the front of your dress which was a little tighter than you would have liked it to be, before shaking your head and pushing out of the door.
***
“You really don’t have to do this.” Maeve rolled her eyes at him through the mirror.
“Oh please, I’m great with kids.” Spencer scoffed, nudging the rocker a little and smiling down at the little dark haired bundle of joy.
“Well yes I know that,” she huffed, toying with the strap of her dress. “But it seems weird to have you look after my son.”
Little Elijah, Daisy and Lily’s half brother, was twelve weeks old and Spencer had almost forgotten how tiny babies were.
“It’s really no big deal. He’s my daughter’s half brother, he’s basically family.” He shrugged.
“And what a weird family we are.” Maeve laughed as she turned back to face Spencer. “So, how do I look?”
Spencer glanced up from baby Elijah and onto her and tears immediately filled his eyes. He stood up and crossed the room towards her, gaze flicking up and down her frame.
“Good gosh Maeve,” he breathed. “You look incredible.”
“Don’t cry.” She shook her head. “Because if you start I’ll start.”
“Sorry, sorry.” He shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his palms to try and dismiss the tears. “But seriously, you look amazing.”
She smiled at him, glancing down at her white, satin dress. She felt like a princess, and judging by Spencer’s reaction she looked like one too.
“Thank you,” she took hold of his hands and squeezed them. “And you’re sure you don’t mind watching over Elijah for the day?”
“For the one hundredth time I do not mind at all. For the record, I hate weddings anyway so this kinda works out great for me. If he cries I have an excuse to leave early.” He smirked at her and she removed her hands from his so she could slap his bicep.
“You’re such a cynic.” She rolled her eyes.
“What can I say?” He shrugged. “I heard eloping is all the rage.”
She rolled her eyes yet again.
“Can you believe we’re here? I never in a million years thought I’d ever get married again.” She sighed wistfully.
“I always thought when I got married it would be forever.” He nodded. “And after all we’ve been through I never thought we’d end up here.”
“Friends you mean?”’
“Is that what this is? Huh. Good to know.” He chuckled, yet again making Maeve roll her eyes.
She turned her back on him again and toyed with her hair in the mirror. Spencer moved back over to where baby Elijah was dribbling down his chin, making little gurgling noises.
He picked up the rocket and attached it to the frame of the stroller so he was ready to make a quick exit when needed.
Just then the door to the bridal suite flew open and his two boisterous daughters barrelled in, wearing their matching purple bridesmaids dresses.
“Mom!” Daisy gasped. “Oh my gosh you look amazing!”
“Mom you’re so pretty!” Lily agreed excitedly.
“Thank you sweethearts.” Maeve turned and held her arms open for the girls who quickly embraced their mother.
“I mean, I’m also here.” Spencer shrugged. “I thought I looked pretty good too.”
“Shut up dad.” Daisy rolled her eyes at him.
“Yeah dad, you’re not the one getting married.” Lily also rolled her eyes.
Since turning eight a few months ago, Lily had started becoming more and more like her sister by the day. Spencer couldn’t remember the time she’d called him daddy or the last time she’d asked him to read to her.
Life was moving way too fast for his liking. His little girls were growing up, soon enough they’d be leaving him. Now wasn’t the time to get down about it though, he still had exciting things in his future.
“Fair enough,” he sighed. “I’m going to take Elijah and get a seat. Try not to upstage your mom, kiddos.”
“He’s such a dork.” He heard Daisy say.
“Yeah who says kiddos?” He heard Lily reply.
He smiled to himself as he left the room, pushing Elijah’s stroller towards the large ballroom down the hall.
Soft music played through small, indiscriminate speakers, as people started taking their seats either side of the grand aisle.
Maeve had always dreamed of a big wedding, their own nuptials at city hall had left a lot for her imagination to desire. And Spencer was glad she was finally getting everything she’d always wanted.
He came to a stop by the door where Bobby, beaming with pride, was waiting to greet people. He spotted Spencer and his son heading his way and waved at them.
“Hey, how’s my little man doing?”
“I’m not bad, thanks.” Spencer joked, now making Bobby roll his eyes. “Oh you mean Elijah? He’s good aren’t you buddy?”
Bobby crouched down and cooed over his son for a moment or two, placing a kiss on his forehead before standing back to his full height.
“Thanks for being here, man. It means a lot to Maeve that you approve of this.” Bobby smiled a gentle smile at him.
“I just want her to be happy.” Spencer shrugged. “And I’ve never seen her happier than when she’s with you.”
Bobby extended his hand and Spencer took it, shaking his ex-wife’s soon to be new husband's hand.
It was probably extremely weird if he stopped to think about it, but that was a thought for another day.
“Are you happy, Spencer?” Bobby surprised him when he asked.
A smile toyed on Spencer’s lips as he closed his eyes briefly and gave thought to his life. When he opened his eyes again his smile grew.
“You know what? I really am.” He nodded.
Bobby patted him on the shoulder before Spencer took the stroller again and headed through the doors.
He headed towards the bar in the corner, spotting JJ, Will and the boys already in their seats and offered them a wave as he passed.
Towards the bar he saw Luke and Garcia, holding hands and giggling between themselves. Nearby Rossi sipped his scotch and tilted his glass at Spencer as he passed.
Cameron was hovering on the other side of the room, looking much like a spare part. He didn’t know anyone here and was instructed to wait patiently for his girlfriend while she fulfilled her bridesmaids duties.
The rest of the team were due to be here but the ceremony wasn’t due to start for another half hour so he had no doubt they’d be here soon.
He pushed the stroller up to the bar and applied the brake, ordering himself a club soda and leaning on the bar top while he waited.
Elijah started to stir, his gurgling noises starting to sound a little strained. Spencer stood back up and peered in his stroller.
“Hey you,” he reached towards the tiny boy and unclipped him from the seat. “It’s ok.”
He lifted Elijah from the stroller, his little face contorted as though he may start crying at any moment. Spencer held the back of soft head and brought him to his chest, cradling him in his arms.
“It’s ok, it’s ok.” He bounced him gently. “Don’t cry, it’s your mommy and daddy’s big day. We don’t want tears.”
He rocked him back and forth and thanked the bar tender when he placed his club soda on the bar. Elijah continued to gurgling, but the rocking motion seemed to calm him.
“It’s ok.” He kissed the side of Elijah’s head.
He’d missed this. He missed when his girls were this small and they didn’t talk back to him and one cuddle from their daddy solved all their problems.
He missed sneaking into their rooms at night just to watch them sleep when the baby monitor wasn’t enough. He missed the way they would cling to his hand so tightly, the way they’d once thought their dad was a superhero.
He loved his girls, more than humanly possible. He loved them as babies, as toddlers and he loved them now, one as a teenager and another who thought she was a teenager.
But as time went on Spencer felt like his girls needed him less and less with every passing day. He sometimes felt redundant as a parent, like his job was done.
Elijah was brand new. Maeve and Bobby would have all those things he’d taken for granted with Daisy and Lily.
Sometimes he wished he could go back in time, really savour those moments. In the blink of an eye his girls would be going off to college, having families of their own and then they really wouldn’t need him anymore.
He held Elijah a little longer than he needed to, momentarily pretending he was Daisy or Lily and he had a chance to do it all over again.
“You’ve got your whole life ahead of you little man. And you got so lucky. You’re mom and dad love you so much and you have the two best sisters in the whole world. And this extended family of yours…” he trailed off, glancing around the room at his family, his BAU family. “You don’t know how lucky you’ve got it kid.”
He started getting a little misty eyed as he stroked Elijah’s head, still rocking him in his arms. Elijah made a happy little cooing sound and Spencer smiled to himself. He closed his eyes and breathed in that new baby scent, imagining one of his daughter’s in his arms when they were so small and vulnerable.
“That’s a good look on you, daddy.”
His eyes snapped back open and he couldn’t hold back the smile on his face. He cautiously laid Elijah back down in his stroller, buckling him back in.
“Just remembering what it was like, it's been a while.” He chuckled, reaching out his hands. “You look like a goddamn dream.”
“You say that like you didn’t see me this morning.” You laughed, taking hold of his outstretched hands.
“You somehow look more beautiful every single time I lay eyes on you.” He pulled you close by your hands and moved them to cup your face.
“You’re not going to cry are you?” You teased him as he kissed you.
“I can’t promise anything.” He laughed against your lips.
“I may always have complicated feelings towards my ex but my feelings for you are anything but. I love you Y/N. I love you more than words can describe and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please don’t walk away. Please give me another chance.”
Your eyes misted with tears but you were not going to let them fall. You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes of keeping them at bay.
You straightened your back, clenched your jaw and spat a simple, “no.”
Turning away from him towards the door, you soon felt a hand on your shoulder.
“That’s not good enough for me.” He turned you back to face him. “I cannot let you walk away again.”
Before you knew what was happening, Spencer caged you back against the door and kissed you. And despite everything, all the pain and hurt he’d caused you, you kissed him back.
And the rest, as they say, was history.
You didn’t walk away, couldn’t even if you tried. You hadn’t walked away in the six months since and you knew you never would.
Four weeks later you moved into his new home with him and the girls.
Daisy and Lily adored you and in return you loved them just as much. They enjoyed having another woman around and oftentimes the three of you would gang up on their dad, much to Spencer’s chagrin.
Daisy talked to you about things she wasn’t always comfortable talking to her parents about. Lily liked it when you braided her hair. They both enjoyed the shopping trips you took them on.
Spencer kissed you once more before letting go of your face and taking hold of one of your hands again.
“This place is fancy.” You spoke as your eyes flitted around the grand room.
“I did try to explain to her the benefits of eloping.” Spencer shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“It’s not for everyone.” You chuckled.
Spencer raised your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles, right next to your gold wedding band.
“Do you regret it? Not having some big fancy event like this?”
“Are you kidding me?” You pulled a face, glancing down at his matching band. “The only person I needed at our wedding was you, Doctor Reid.”
Some might say it was too soon, that the two of you had rushed into things but they would be wrong.
When you know, you know and you both knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were meant to be together and didn’t want to waste a second not being married. Nothing had ever felt so right as standing up in that little Vegas chapel and promising each other forever.
“I love you so much. Doctor Reid.” He squeezed your hand.
The kiss lasted several minutes and by the time Spencer pulled back you were both panting.
The look he was giving you was like no look anyone had ever given you before. And it told you all you needed to know.
This man was incomparably in love with you, and would go to the ends of the earth for you. This man would do anything for you.
He’d made some mistakes, but so had you. Life wasn’t always perfect, there would always be bumps in the road. But with any luck the hardest hurdles were now in your past.
He loved you and you loved him and it was just as simple as that.
“I don’t want the best days of my life to have passed me by. I want it all, Y/N. I want to get married, I want to have more kids. And I want it with you.”
“It really is a good job we don’t both work at Georgetown anymore, two Doctor Reid’s is just confusing.” You laughed.
“Well I think it could be done. There would just be the hot Doctor Reid and the other Doctor Reid.” He shrugged, his eyes sparkling playfully.
“Which one am I?”
“You will never know, my love.” He chuckled, pulling you close again and kissing you slightly more fiercely than was appropriate for the current setting.
Before things could get too hot and heavy, Elijah whined, tearing the two of you apart. You both moved to his stroller and looked down on him.
“Hey little man, what seems to be the problem?” You stroked his wrinkly forehead.
He kicked his tiny legs, blowing little spit bubbles in his mouth. Spencer cooed at him while you continued stroking his head.
Within a few seconds he calmed down again, perhaps he just wanted some attention. Baby’s and dogs weren’t all that dissimilar, Taco had a penchant for whining when he wanted attention.
“Oh jeez, I’m sorry. I didn’t ask if you wanted a drink.” Spencer stood back up and picked up his club soda.
“Just water, please. I’ve been feeling a little queasy again this morning.” You rubbed your stomach.
“Hopefully that’ll pass soon.” He kissed your cheek before getting the bartender's attention again and ordering you a glass of water.
Soon after handing it to you, Daisy and Lily in their beautiful dresses, carrying bouquets, were heading your way.
Spencer saw the coy smile Daisy sent in the direction of her boyfriend and it made his stomach tighten. How he wished he could slow down time so his daughter never got older.
“You need to go sit, it’s starting in a minute.” Daisy demanded.
“Sit please.” Lily echoed.
Spencer looked between his girls and you and little Elijah who could now barely keep his eyes open. He was flooded by nostalgia, weddings always did have that effect on him.
The girls turned to leave, to finish their rounds but Spencer stopped them.
“Hey, pumpkins?” His voice cracked a little as he spoke.
“Stop it.” Daisy frowned at him, hearing the way his voice broke.
“Stop what? Spencer frowned back.
“I can see you getting sappy. Don’t do it. Please, dad?” She begged him.
“Yeah please, dad?” Lily repeated.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.” He looked over at Elijah again. “I just miss when you girls were that little. When you needed me.”
You slipped your hand in his, giving it a squeeze to try and tether him to the present before he went down a rabbit hole into the past.
Daisy and Lily looked at each other, communicating subconsciously in the weird way sisters seemed to be able to do.
“We’ll always need you, dad.” Lily spoke as they looked back at him.
“You will?”
“Of course, you’re our dad.” Daisy shrugged.
“We love you.” Lily insisted.
“I love you both so much.” His voice cracked again, eyes misting with tears.
“Oh god,” Daisy groaned. “Do not cry. Stop it.”
“Make him stop, Y/N.” Lily looked at you pleadingly.
“I wish I could.” You chuckled, giving his hand another firm squeeze. “But you know your dad, he’s an emotional kind of guy.”
“We can’t stay little kids forever, dad.” Daisy offered him a slightly sad smile.
“I know, I know.” He nodded, using his free hand to wipe his eyes before any tears fell.
“But hey, at least you get to do it all over again.” Daisy shrugged, nodding towards your belly.
“Hey Y/N?” Spencer spoke to you from the bed of the Caesars Palace Honeymoon suite.
“Yeah?” You called back from the bathroom.
“Let’s make a baby.”
You frowned to yourself and put down your toothbrush, padding back into the bedroom.
“Excuse me?” You leant against the doorframe, your new husband lying naked on top of the covers.
“Let’s make a baby.” He repeated.
You’d come off your pill a week or so ago after you’d discussed wanting to try for a baby at some point in the future. You were still using condoms though and Spencer still never finished inside of you.
“Right now?” You questioned.
“Why not?” He shrugged.
“We literally just got married like five hours ago.” You laughed, stepping further into the room.
“I don’t want to wait.” He reached for you as soon as you were close enough, pulling you down to the bed. “Let’s make a baby.”
Your hand involuntarily went to your growing stomach, the one that you could barely fit inside this dress. You were at fourteen weeks and only just starting to show, it wouldn’t be long now before none of your clothes fit you.
“That is true.” Spencer looked at you with a smile that lit up the entire room.
He was now for three for three. Three times in his life he had unprotected sex, finishing inside of someone, and all three times he had gotten them pregnant. He often wondered if he had some kind of super sperm.
He placed his free hand on top of yours on your stomach, on the future addition to his pumpkin patch, to his crazy, slightly unconventional family.
He wouldn’t change his past, wouldn’t change Daisy and Lily or the way they were brought into the world. But this new baby growing inside of you, you at his side as his wife; this was the life he chose and the life you both chose to make.
“Anyway, you seriously need to go and sit down, mom will be pissed if you miss this.” Daisy snapped him out of his revere.
“Please don’t use that word.” Spencer rolled his eyes.
“Whatever,” Daisy shrugged. “Come on Lil, let's get the others.”
Lily happily followed her sister while the two of them rounded up all the guests and motioned them towards their seats. It wasn’t lost on him the way his youngest lit up when Michael LaMontagne smiled at her.
He swore one day he would be at their wedding.
Spencer glanced around and spotted Matt and Kristy hand in hand, closely followed by Emily and Tara who were chatting between themselves as they found seats near JJ and Will. He looked back at you, tears now back in his eyes.
“Don’t.” You shook your head. “I am a hormonal mess as it is. If you start crying, I will too.”
“Sorry,” he sighed wistfully. “I’m just so damn happy.”
“Me too, Spence.” You agreed, leaning in and kissing him. “Me too.”
The two you hung back with Elijah now asleep in his stroller while everyone else took their seats. Your own eyes took in the room, the girls, the BAU members and everyone in between.
This family had found you and accepted you as one of their own with open arms. The Reid family, the BAU family, without really meaning to you’d become a part of something you never knew you’d always wanted.
It may be slightly unorthodox, but it didn’t make what you had any less special. In fact in your eyes, the oddness of this family dynamic made it even more exceptional. And you wouldn’t change a single thing.
Spencer let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, placing a soft kiss on your head while reaching for the stroller with his free hand.
“Looks like it’s just me and you, angel.” He held you close, he always held you so close.
You glanced at Elijah before looking back around at all the faces in the room.
Daisy and Lily were waiting by the doors with their baskets of confetti, awaiting their cue to take to the aisle. Bobby stood proudly at the end, his best man at his side as they waited for the music to begin.
You looked over at JJ and Will, at Penelope and Luke; Matt and Kristy. You surveyed Tara, Emily and Rossi before you looked back to your husband.
“Yeah,” you smiled as you leaned closer to him, closing your eyes and breathing him in as though it was the very first time. “Just me and you and everyone we know.”
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