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#and they was in airport crying together
candlesoul · 5 months
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sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined.
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reineyday · 10 months
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just watched bnha world heroes mission and wow they really packed a whole bunch of my favourite tropes into rody soul huh
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lavender-femme · 9 months
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#I’m so fucking sick of feeling everything to my core#cried for reasons I didn’t think I was going to today…#i thought we would be adults and move on with our lives but nah#got told I have internalised homophobia because ‘snitched’ on two staff in fucking 2021 for having sex in a bathroom while CHILDREN were on#property literally in the same building DOWN THE HALL! and the windows were open!#as if I wasn’t admin staff and obligated to report that to the director#if kids hadn’t been there then I wouldn’t have said shit but they were!#all this coming from the person who told me my femme identity is reductive#so now I’m apparently homophobic and not good at being a lesbian but apparently I’m also heteronormative and cis#according to this person#dumb dumb idiot ass#the mango diaries#i know I ranted a ton in these tags but I actually fucking had my whole birthday week just fucked over because she can’t fucking let things#lie#i just dropped one of my favorite people in the whole world off at the airport as these messages were coming through#and then driving in the snow with one of my other favorite people when I just couldn’t keep it together anymkre and started crying#she makes me feel so fucking small and I hate it#i was already having a hard time mentally today and last night but FUCK#this just was too much#and to know I was betrayed by another friend I trusted who told her I was the one that reported her… fucking hell#I’m just… ugh it just fucking hurts and I want to curl up and cry some more
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episode 3x08 of lone star my most beloved episode of all time
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artemisbarnowl · 1 year
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When you're not staying up past your bedtime tell us your thoughts about checking up on people via social media!
Thank you for indulging me this long weekend why would you do this
Warning I'm gonna be pathetic because i am still grieving a nine year relationship and grieving, especially in this context, feels so UNDIGNIFIED. Also its my grieving thoughts about the socials thing not like well srticulated thoughts about the socials with some grieving mixed in. I just have a lot of feelings and i need to get them out.
1. Like, ultimately don't. Its not helpful at all i think. Unless if literally is just idle curiosity about what happened to someone in your class from ten years ago and you actually dont care what you find.
2. I am experiencing the urge to check up on my ex CONSTANTLY. (They do not really use social media this doesnt amount to much btw). I understand why people be lurking on someones insta or whatever to see what theyve been up to. Sometimes you hope theyre failing and miserable because they did you wrong and you want to feel validated. In my particular case i am worried, and i miss them. There are no posts for me to see or wonder about so this is useless but i think i also want to see that my ex is sad (because i was important to him for such a long time) but also, not like, too sad. And I'm fantasising about him sort of DOing something about it. I want to see what he's up to. Is is dancing? Is he injured? Is he Making? Is he finding small joys in life like hanging out with friends or seeing a cute creature on a walk? Seeing posts about these things would not help me! Because i would likely assume he was not sad, then i would feel angry and bitter and disappointed in myself for wasting my time. We dont share when we are sad (or why) on socials. I am NEVER going to see a post that effectively says "my smart and beautiful and extraordinary girlfriend of 9 years left me, and I am sad i couldn't be what she needed. I miss her a lot and wish i could have showed her this garden i saw today, she would have loved it. I will never forget her and dont know how to be okay with this". No one is going to see that. But ultimately i think we check up on people because what we want to see is some variation of that, so we can feel validated and know that they UNDERSTAND how were feeling.
Because this is tumblr I have made stupid posts a bit like this! I miss him all the time, i made a facebook post about a doco that I watched in the hopes that he would see it and watch it, because i think he'd like all the adorable english woodland creatures. This is also stupid! As are posts showing how well youre doing in hopes ypur ex seems them and feels stupid. Devoting this much energy to a game in your head where you will never get an outcome that satisfies you cannot help you move on or heal. But i do think its weird that we look for any possible thread that tied us to people we are without, even the terrible online ones that can never retie us! We talk to gravestones like the dead can hear us. I am currently checking my mailbox every day for a letter that might not ever arrive, and even if it does it sure and shit wont contain any information that helps me live my new single life where no one thinks I'm special, and there's no one I'm 100% comfortable to be all of myself around and who I dont get tired of being with.
I will never know if he saw the fb post, let alone watched and had opinions on the doco I talked about. Knowing wont help. He knew i have a tumblr but i dont think he'd go through it as its a huge pile of memes and stuff he wouldnt understand to look for 3 things that say im sad. And again, knowing I'm sad won't help.
Normally im very good at being like "well this is unproductive/not the best course of action" and then, you know, STOPPING but unfortunately I will continue to wonder how he is and what hes up to and cling to actually unreasonable, unfounded fantasies of what happens IF he sees.
Anyway this is a long vent that basically says i think i get why people do it now but ultimately it will never bring the carthsis we hope for (:
He knew i had a tumblr but I dont think he's checking up on me coz. Whats the point. Its a lot of stupid memes for 3 im sad posts. Which accomplish nothing as discussed.
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getting-messi · 1 year
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My sister officially moved away with her new husband, my brother went back to his city and my other brother went on a trip to London.
As a youngest child, I cannot cope with this level of loneliness :(((
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silverwindptv · 1 month
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teaboot · 8 months
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On of the less intuitive things about love, I've found, of any kind, is the importance of needing things.
I didn't realize it until recently, but I've always seen love as something requiring sacrifice, selflessness, patience, and generosity- to ask for nothing is to be the best person I can be, small and quiet and never in the way, always happy and helpful, self-sufficient and present when desired.
It's only as an adult, now, that I'm beginning to see the selfishness of wanting nothing.
I cut my friend's hair in my kitchen the other day. They wanted a trim and I had the skills, so I offered, and was genuinely excited when they stopped hesitating over "bothering me" and took me up on it. It was a peaceful afternoon, and we had tea and chatted for an hour or more.
My brother and I shared popcorn at the movies a while ago. When I came time to pay, I pulled my card out like a wild western sheriff and slapped it on the machine before he could fight me for it first. The satisfaction was delightful.
Someone called me crying on the phone the other day. Kept apologizing for disturbing me at work, talking about how they were bothering me on my lunch break. I was telling the truth when I told them that really, I was flattered and honored and relieved, knowing that if they were hurting I would know, that I didn't have to worry in silence. It felt good to hear them slowly come down, and to know that they knew it would be better soon, and to hear them laugh wetly on the other end. We're getting together for a visit next week.
It's hard to need things, if you've trained yourself not to. It's hard to want things, when you don't know how to want anymore. Trusting people is difficult, and so is relying on them, but I don't know where I'd be without the people who rely on me.
I've heard a lot of people say, "Nobody will love you unless you love yourself". I've had a lot of thoughts about it. It's not right, but it's not wrong, either, I think.
"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... I've always taken that to mean, "You will not be lovable until you develop a positive view of yourself as a person".
Now, I think it's sort of inside-out.
"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... because nobody can show their love to you in a way that you can accept until you treat yourself kindly, and learn what you need, and what you want, and how to ask for it, and then give that vulnerability away.
Love, for me, is someone I ask for a ride to the airport. Whether they end up doing this or not is irrelevant.
It's not needy, or selfish, or taking up energy. It's giving the gift of being wanted, and needed, and thought of. It's giving someone the security of being part of someone's life.
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pathologicalreid · 7 months
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cryptic | S.R.
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You and Spencer get a surprise beyond your wildest dreams.
who? spencer reid x fem!AFAB!reader category: fluff (hurt/comfort a little bit) content warnings: oh geez. pregnancy, periods, weight, medical inaccuracy, cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, NICU, hospitals, maybe a little ooc i'm not sure, breastfeeding, reader is running solely on oxytocin, crying. word count: 6k a/n: does anyone else have an irrational fear of this? is it just me? that's why i wrote this anyways. also i wrote this MONTHS ago so if it's bad i'm not culpable. (yall voted for unhinged fluff, here it is) anyways i'm calling this part of my "spencer reid dilf agenda".
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In his work life, Spencer faced fear every day – that was part of the reason he loved life with you so much. The two of you had just moved to your first house together and were still unpacking boxes when he was called away to upstate New York for a case.
You weren’t frustrated with him; you merely kissed him and encouraged him to go save the day.
So, when he told you last night that you must’ve hurt your back trying to move the couch, he didn’t think anything of it. He just told you to rest and to let him know how you were doing in the morning, but when the morning came, there was a break in the case. Spencer had completely forgotten that he was expecting your call.
As the team waited in the police precinct, he didn’t wonder why Hotch answered a phone call and furrowed his brows at Reid until he called him over to talk in private.
For once, his overactive mind went blank when Hotch explained to him that you were in the hospital and that he should call your best friend, Ivy.
In a daze, Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket to find that he had missed two calls from you and thirteen calls from Ivy. Isolating himself in an abandoned office, he looked at your friend’s contact and pressed the call button.
The phone didn’t even have a chance to ring before Ivy answered, “Spencer! Oh my god,” she said, sounding relieved to be hearing from him. “I am so sorry for calling your boss. I pulled his number from Y/N’s contacts – I didn’t know how else to reach you, and I- “
“Ivy, what’s wrong?” Spencer asked, teetering between panic and impatience. “She told me she thought he had just pulled a muscle moving,” he explained, wondering what could’ve happened.
On the other end of the call, Ivy took a deep, shaky breath. “She’s okay, but you have to come home,” she whispered, keeping her voice down.
Now he was leaning closer to panic, “Where is she?”
“Northern Virginia Hospital,” Ivy responded. “When you get here, call me, and I’ll bring you to her,” she told him.
Spencer took a deep breath and left the empty office once he ended the call, very nearly running into Hotch, “I need to- “
Holding his hand up in a ‘wait’ gesture, Hotch nodded, “There’s a flight going out, Morgan will drive you to the airport. Don’t worry about anything here,” he instructed him, gesturing over to where Morgan was standing with the keys to one of the SUVs.
After promising to call when he could, a thirty-minute flight, and a ten-minute taxi right, Spencer called Ivy back.
“Hey,” her voice was quiet through the receiver, “are you here?”
He turned around in the lobby of the hospital, “I just came in the front entrance; what wing is she in?” He asked. Which wing would a back injury be in?  He supposed it depended on the severity of the back injury.
She cleared her throat and there was a soft rustling before Ivy answered, “Stay put, I’ll come to you.” Her words came out quickly as if she was trying to prevent him from going looking for her.
Then he began to lean closer to impatience, nonetheless, he waited the couple of minutes that it took for Ivy to come out of an elevator, motioning for Spencer to catch up before they took the elevator back up. “Ivy,” Spencer said, “What is happening?”
“She called me at six this morning, saying that she thought she had pulled a muscle in her back and couldn’t sleep. I told her to take some ibuprofen and try to rest, and if she didn’t feel better by lunch, I’d bring her to urgent care. She called me again at ten and told me something was seriously wrong, but she didn’t know what,” Ivy informed him, her voice sounding distant. “She was crying, and I’ve never heard her sound so scared. So, I called an ambulance and met her here while she was triaged…” Her voice trailed off as they exited the elevator.
Spencer’s heart ached at the thought of you being so scared, but it still didn’t answer his question: What happened?
Ivy sniffled and wiped her nose, “Spencer, have you ever heard of a cryptic pregnancy?”
He stopped in his tracks, eyes as wide as saucers, “She’s pregnant?” His words came out as a whisper, a mix of emotions flurried through him.
Your best friend smiled softly at him, “No, she had a baby. That back pain? She was in labor.”
Questions popped into his head quicker than he could ask him. He took a trembling breath, “Where are they?”
She led him around the corner, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “She’s in postpartum recovery, the baby’s up a floor in the NICU. It all happened really fast; you know? Anyways, they kind of whisked the baby away while saying things about Apgar scores that we didn’t really understand.
They stopped for a moment to get Spencer a visitor’s badge before he motioned for Ivy to continue.
Ivy shrugged in response, “She was kind of inconsolable after that, they gave her something to calm her down, but she keeps asking for you,” Ivy said, stopping outside of a door.
Spencer peeked through the blinds to your room. You’re awake, lying on the white bed, absentmindedly picking at the hospital bracelet around your wrist.
“If you need a minute before going in there, take it. Once you go in there, you need to be strong or brave or whatever,” Ivy instructed, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m not saying you can’t be confused or upset, I’d be worried if you weren’t. I’m saying she just gave birth unmedicated without ever even knowing she was pregnant, and they haven’t come back with an update,” she said, looking at Spencer like she was assessing a threat.
He nodded in understanding. Maybe when his head was clear he’d thank Ivy for being so protective of you, but he just nodded. “I need to be in there with her,” he insisted.
Ivy acquiesced, letting him know that she was going to go to the house to get clothes and was going to the store. At that point, Spencer had only been half listening to her.
You didn’t move on the bed when he opened the door. He looked at the whiteboard on the wall, his heart clenching when he saw the words ‘Baby Reid’ written below your name. Spencer quietly walked closer to you before he pulled a chair up so that it was at your bedside and took a seat. He could see tear tracks on your cheeks, “Sweetheart,” he whispered.
Your eyes closed, and two more tears streaked down your cheeks. There was an IV in your wrist and your vitals were being monitored. It wasn’t until Spencer leaned over and smoothed your hair back that you really started to cry.
Gently, Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, and you leaned forward into him. He just held you, running a hand up and down your back as he gently shushed you, “I’m here, darling. I’m here.”
“I had a baby,” you rasped, so quietly that Spencer wasn’t sure if you were telling him or trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t a dream.
He was quiet for just a moment, letting a few silent tears stream down his own cheeks. “I know,” he murmured, “I’m so proud of you.”
You hummed, leaning back ever so slightly, closing your eyes when Spencer kissed your forehead. “I tried calling you,” you whispered, looking up at him with watery eyes and lifting your hands so that you could wipe away the tears.
“I know. I’m so sorry,” he tried to apologize. There was no way for him to navigate this situation, but if he felt this lost, then he couldn’t begin to fathom how you were feeling.
Shaking your head, you waved off his apology, “Did you catch the bad guy?”
He nodded, smiling at your question, “Yeah, we got him this morning. That’s why I didn’t get your call,” he said as he took your hand and intertwined your fingers. “Can I get you anything? Have you eaten? Do you need water?”
A slight smile grew on your face at his concern, a fact that made his heart soar, “I should probably eat something.” The smile faded quickly, “We should probably talk, right?” You asked, leaning forward in the bed to reach for a pile of papers at the foot of the bed.
Noticing a pained look on your face, Spencer set a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll get it,” he said, guiding you so you were lying back on the pillows. “Please be careful,” he reached for the papers and handed them to you.
Quickly, you flipped through the stack of papers that was now in your lap. “I’ve been thinking, you know, and they gave me all of these papers with my options, but we have space at the new house. I work from home most of the time anyway, and we can afford it and- “
Spencer cut you off, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Yes,” he whispered against your lips before he kissed them again.
Studying you, he watched as you visibly relaxed into your hospital bed. He followed your gaze as you looked out the window of the hospital room, “Spence,” you breathed as a nurse wearing pink scrubs walked into the room.
She looked at him, “Hello, are you dad?”
Dad. He was a dad. Spencer nodded enthusiastically at the nurse.
“I’ve got these bracelets for you two then, they’re to help keep little families like yours together,” she says, loping the white bracelets around both his and your wrist. “Baby’s got two,” she lets you both know. “So, Baby Reid had a hard time breathing at first, but we up in the NICU cleared some of the amniotic fluid from her lungs and everything is looking much better now. Another nurse is bringing the bassinet now…” her voice trailed off when someone knocked on the door.
He wanted to make sure he had heard the nurse correctly. Did she say ‘her’?
The door opened, and it was the tiny hat with the bow that gave it away. She wriggled on the white sheet in her bassinet, looking around her new surroundings. Spencer looked from you to her and couldn’t help the tears that pricked his eyes. It was an emotion that he couldn’t quite place.
Noticing the way you leaned forward, the nurse spoke, “Would you like to hold her?”
“I- Can I? Is she okay?” You asked nervously, for the first time that day, Spencer heard the fear in your voice.
Nodding, the nurse wheeled the bassinet closer to you, helping you move your hospital gown so that you could do skin-to-skin. As she did so, she talked about bonding with a newborn, but Spencer was so enamored watching you that he wasn’t really listening. “We’re estimating that she’s about thirty-five weeks, so she’s late preterm, but she should be able to go home when you do,” the nurse informed you, making sure you were comfortable holding the baby before she stepped back.
The concept of being in a home surrounded by boxes with a newborn stressed him out, but then the tiny baby on your chest let out a squawk and he returned to just watching the two of you.
Both of the nurses left to give the three of you time, and you turned to Spencer, “What was thirty-five weeks ago?” You asked, gently rubbing your thumb over your newborn’s back.
“Exactly? July sixteenth,” he responded, watching your daughter as her eyes shut. “She fell asleep,” he observed, dropping his voice down to a whisper.
You hummed in response, bending your head down and pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “She needs a name,” you murmured, “we can’t keep calling her baby.”
Spencer leaned over the edge of your bed, “Do you have any ideas?” He asked, even though he already knew you’ve been keeping a list of baby names in your phone for years.
Shrugging ever so slightly, you peered down at your daughter, “All I know is that her last name’s gonna be Reid.” Your eyes flittered up to his, “Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll sob, and our daughter is asleep on me, and I don’t want to wake her up.”
“I just love you so much,” he told you softly.
“We can do this, can’t we?” You asked him nervously, narrowing your brows. “She doesn’t have a name. Our house is a disaster. Oh… Spence, we don’t have a car seat. We can’t take her home if we don’t have a car seat.”
Realistically, Spencer knew that you had at least twenty-four hours before you were released from the hospital, maybe forty-eight, given the circumstances. He also knew that you knew this, and he was afraid the events of the day were beginning to take a toll on you. He wasn’t going to say that, instead, he leaned forward and comforted you, “We’ll figure something out, I promise, okay? The name thing we can do.” He encouraged you to take one step at a time, “What about Ivy?”
Your head snapped up, “Really?” You asked, staying conscientious of the newborn on your chest.
“She was there for you through all of this when I couldn’t be,” he shrugged. “Did you know she dug through your contacts on your phone and called Hotch when I didn’t answer?” He watched a small smile tug at your lips, “I just think we should honor her in some way.”
Nodding, a full smile bloomed on your face, “Absolutely.” There was a brief silence, “Do you need to call Hotch? You can step out if you need to. We’re fine alone. I mean just for a little while not for- “
That was the second time you had nearly worked yourself into a panic. Spencer set a hand on your shoulder, “Y/N, angel. Don’t stress yourself out, okay? I’ll handle it.” He promised, after all, you had already done the hard work.
You paused and took a deep breath at his encouragement, leaving the both of you in silence while you caught your breath. “What about Eleanor?”
He smiled and looked at your sleeping baby, “It’s perfect,” he whispered.
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The first time Eleanor, who had quickly been nicknamed Nell, cried with the two of you in the room was also the first time Spencer held her. He had been too nervous before, not that he’d tell you that, but when her wails started and he saw you wincing as you sat up in the bed, he instinctively picked her up.
He was still in his work clothes. Granted, he had taken off his tie and the top two buttons of his shirt had been undone, but it didn’t seem to bother Nell, the baby had quickly hushed upon contact. “Sit back,” he gently instructed, “Are you in pain?”
You nestled back into the pillows, “Just a little, they said it’s normal.”
Nothing about this was normal, Spencer wanted to say, but he knew you were well aware. He handed you the baby, knowing that it had been two hours since she last ate and that was likely why she was crying. According to the nurses, she was a good eater. He took their word for it.
Spencer watched you rock gently as Nell ate, you were staring off at nothing, so he asked, “What are you thinking right now?”
“I’m wondering why you’re not more freaked out,” you admitted, looking down at the newborn.
He leaned back in the chair, “I don’t know. I work best under pressure and with a little bit of chaos. It’s also highly likely that the entire situation hasn’t fully sunken in yet.”
You nodded understandingly, “It’s a lot to take in. If you think about it, most parents have months to fully prepare and wrap their heads around it. It’s been about ten hours for me. Maybe six hours for you.”
Nodding, Spencer watched intently as Nell fell asleep, her tiny fists falling and quiet coos coming from her. He heard you say something to him, but the words didn’t process. “What?”
Giggling quietly, you cocked your head at him, “Do you want to hold her?”
“Uh, I don’t know,” he replied honestly. You seemed like you were taking to parenthood exceedingly well, he was afraid he wouldn’t match up.
In the end, it was your understanding smile that prompted him to agree. “Unbutton your shirt,” you ordered, laughing at him when he looked bewildered. “Skin-to-skin isn’t just for moms, Spence. Besides, I want you to bond. I want her to know who you are even when you’re away for work.”
He obliged your request, undoing his shirt so that he could gently place Nell on his bare chest. She squawked while she was being moved from parent to parent but quieted again as soon as she was being held, “she’s so small,” Spencer remarked, marveling at the tiny creature on top of him.
You nodded sleepily, “Four pounds, fourteen ounces. She had to fit behind my ribcage somehow.”
The oddness of the situation began to find a place in him. Were there changes in you that neither of you had noticed? Your period was always irregular, there was no significant weight change, and even morning sickness had seemed to totally pass you by. “I can’t believe we had no idea,” he murmured as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nell’s head.
“I went to the doctor three months ago for chest pains, do you remember? I took an at-home pregnancy test just in case and it came back negative. The nurses here told me that there’s a less than one percent chance of that happening,” you informed him, slowly starting to mumble.
Spencer looked up at you to find that your eyes were fluttering shut. “You should sleep. I’ve got this.”
You grunted in protest, “but what- “
“No,” he interrupted. “She just ate, she’s sleeping, and you’re exhausted. I can spend some time with her while you sleep.”
Sleepily, you grinned, sliding down on the bed, and settling your head on the pillows, “Daddy’s girl,” you whispered.
He loved the sound of that.
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You had always known that Spencer Reid was perfect, and as you watched him fall into the role of father, that knowledge became concrete. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and kept your gaze on the two of them, not daring to disturb the peace. Instead, you watched in awe as he held your daughter, softly speaking to her as if she could fully comprehend what he was saying.
For all you knew, she could understand what he was saying. She was Spencer’s kid, after all.
Gently, he whispered to her and one of her little fingers gripped his index finger. “Your palmar reflex lets you hold my finger like that, Nellie. It’ll go away when you’re six months old,” he softly swiped his thumb over her back as he murmured to her. “I don’t usually like surprises,” he admitted to the infant, “but you and your mama might just be the best thing to ever happen to me.”
You grinned, reaching your hand out and touching the green armchair, “I love you.” He reached out a hand to hold yours. “Do you want to try to get some sleep?” You offered. Your body still ached, but getting some sleep had made you feel loads better.
“I don’t think I can,” he answered candidly. “I feel so…”
“Wired? Stressed?” You suggested.
He shrugged slightly, “I was going to say hyperaware, but yes,” he responded.
You wheeled the empty bassinet closer to him, “Set her down. Babies can sense stress. Take a minute, catch your breath,” you told him.
Reluctantly, Spencer placed Nell in the bassinet, adjusting the hat on her head while you watched him. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softly.
Your shoulders drooped involuntarily, “When was the last time you slept, love?” After years with Spencer, you know he would go days without sleeping in order to break a case. His lack of a response answered your question well enough. Quickly, you pressed your call button and asked if a nurse could take Nell to the nursery.
Once you made sure the baby was taken care of, you moved over in the hospital bed and patted the open space. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he told you.
That was the problem with Spencer. He would always put you, and now Eleanor, ahead of himself. It made your heart ache. “Spence, this has been the craziest day, and I can tell you haven’t slept. So, get over here and lay down with me,” you instructed.
Rolling his eyes, Spencer kicked off his shoes before lying next to you in the hospital bed, “Do you promise to wake me if you need anything?” He asked as he gingerly pulled you into his arms, afraid of hurting you.
You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“I hate that saying,” Spencer whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your hairline.
Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, “I promise, angel. Get some sleep.”
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You startled awake, looking to make sure you didn’t wake Spencer. Your chest ached as you sat up, cringing at the noise your papery hospital gown made. Gingerly, you placed a hand over your heart, feeling the pounding of your heart and listening to the beeping of the monitor, cursing the screen for making so much noise.
This had happened earlier before Spencer arrived, and the doctor had given you something to calm down then.
When you came into the ER, they thought your appendix was bursting, but when they did an ultrasound, they found that you were in active labor. There was no time for an epidural, they didn’t have time to give you anything for the pain. A kind nurse held your hand and quickly explained what was going to happen.
Within thirty minutes, you arrived at the hospital, gave birth, and had your baby taken to the NICU.
It was too fast; your brain was so overwhelmed that it had shut down. It seemed like a ridiculous thought; how did you miss the birth of your daughter?
Hiccupping back a sob, you felt a comforting hand on your back, but the fact that you had woken Spencer up just made you cry harder. He wrapped his arms around you, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s alright,” he cooed, rubbing small circles on your back. “I love you so much, you know that, right? I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” he comforted you. “It’s okay, it’s just all catching up with you, honey.”
You pulled away, wiping the tears from under your eyes. “It’s okay,” you repeated his words.
“What do you need right now?” He asked, smoothing your hair back. “Do you want to make a list? Do you want to move around?”
Nodding absentmindedly, you watched as Spencer pressed the call button and got up, helping you stand. Your legs shook, and you felt a bit like a foal, but it felt good to be out of bed. You haphazardly finger-combed your hair before stepping into hospital slippers and leaving the room. For now, the nurses instructed you to just walk around the maternity ward.
As the two of you walked around, you made several lists. Things you needed to buy. People you needed to call.
By the time you’d returned to the room, Ivy had returned. Spencer opened the door for you and helped you sit on the end of the bed.
“I’ve come bearing gifts,” Ivy greeted, grinning with bags in her hands. She gestured to a suitcase, “First, clothes for both of you. I just grabbed whatever I thought might be good. Toiletries and stuff too,” she said, rolling the suitcase off to the side. “I grabbed a couple of newborn outfits, but again, I was kind of flying blind. The lady at the department store was extremely helpful.” She handed Spencer a bag of baby clothes. “I got a car seat, the same lady recommended it, she was probably getting a commission, but it’s in my car. I have approximately zero idea how to set it up, but I figured, Spencer has a doctorate in engineering. He can do it.”
You glanced blearily at your best friend, “Ivy, you didn’t have to do all of this. This is too much,” you confessed, holding a tiny onesie in your hand.
She dismissed your insistence with a wave of her hand, “I also got this.” Ivy held out a small stuffed duck. “I know it won’t do her much good now, but I couldn’t help myself.”
After you changed out of your hospital garb, you looked at Spencer, “Go call Hotch, we’ll be good here for a while.” You gestured to your best friend, who was filtering through the suitcase she had packed, trying to find your hairbrush. At your request, he told you he’d also ask the nurse to bring Nell back down so that Ivy could meet her.
Once he was gone, Ivy sat behind you on the bed and brushed through your hair, tucking it out of your face, you were finally beginning to feel a little bit more like yourself by the time she had finished.
You watched intently as the nurse arrived at the door, “Do you want to meet her?”
Ivy nodded enthusiastically, lips parting as she observed the small baby. “Is that her name?” She rasped, looking at the card on the bassinet, Eleanor Ivy Reid. “That’s not funny, don’t joke about stuff like that.”
“Yeah,” you whispered, keeping your voice down as Eleanor slept. “It’s not a joke, and for the record, it was Spence’s idea,” you informed her, reaching into the bassinet, and scooping up the now-swaddled infant. “He’s so grateful that you were there for me, and I am too.”
She smiled, “I’m always going to be here for you two – you three now. Number one babysitter,” she said, pointing to herself. 
You sighed and looked from your friend to your daughter, “She’s got a whole FBI unit of babysitters.”
“I’ll be here when they’re away – when Spencer’s away,” she reminded you, carefully adjusting the hat on the baby in your arms.
The last thing you wanted to think of was Spencer being gone, leaving you to take care of a baby you weren’t ready for.
Ivy must have sensed your nerves, “Hey, you know I’m always in your corner, right?”
You nodded slowly, “It’s just all catching up with me. I have to call my mom. I have to call my boss. How do you retroactively apply for maternity leave?”
“One thing at a time,” she said soothingly. “Right now, just enjoy your time with your perfect little family. I’ll call your mom for you,” she offered. “If your boss gives you any grief, he’ll have to deal with me.” Standing up, she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to go get food, do you two still have the same orders from the deli?”
Confirming with her, you moved so that you could feed Nell, watching her as she looked up at you. “She’s right, you know? You are perfect,” you cupped her head with your hand, looking up to find Spencer watching from the doorway.
“Hotch says congratulations,” he spoke gently, striding over to your bedside and sitting on the edge of the bed. “He also said to let the team know if we needed anything,” he let you know, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He continued to let you know that Hotch had offered to figure out Spencer’s paternity leave, and while you felt bad about giving Hotch something else on his to-do list, it felt nice to have one less thing on yours. 
You nodded, “Ivy’s gonna call my mom, so that’s two things off of our list.”
Spencer squeezed your shoulder, “They asked if they could come to visit, but I didn’t want to answer for you.” He moved back to the armchair, “I just said we’d let them know.”
“At the very least we’ll send a picture,” you murmured. “I’m surprised you’re not researching newborns right now.”
Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “I asked one of the nurses if I could get access to the hospital library.”
You snorted, “Of course you did.”
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No one from the BAU ended up visiting while you were in the hospital, mainly because the idea of too many people in the one hospital room made you anxious, but both you and Eleanor had been cleared to go home. Eventually, you would have to allow visitors.
“Spencer, you can go the speed limit,” you said from the backseat of the car, not taking your eyes off of the baby in her car seat.
He glanced back in the rearview mirror, “This stretch of road is bumpy. I don’t want to wake her.” Despite his anxieties, he was taking to fatherhood remarkably well.
You shook your head, “She’s already awake, babe.” She looked around her new surroundings, spending part of the six hours a day that she was awake going home for the first time. Part of the beauty of a newborn was that they slept for eighteen hours a day, but only in about fifty-minute bursts.
Spencer kept glancing back, and you made a mental note to get a mirror for the rear-facing car seat.
As he turned onto your street, you sat up slightly. “Who’s here?” You asked, looking at the cars in your driveway. You recognized Ivy’s car, but none of the others rang any bells.
“That’s JJ’s car, and that’s Morgan’s truck,” Spencer told you as he pulled into the driveway. Once he got out of the car, he ran around to where you were sitting. He opened the door, taking the car seat out of its base before helping you out of the car. “I had no idea they were here,” he said curiously.
You hummed thoughtfully, looking at Eleanor in her car seat. There was a part of you that felt horrible, you didn’t have anywhere for her to sleep set up. Another part of you knew that she’d be just fine sleeping in your arms while Spencer set something up. “Far be it from the BAU to abandon one of their own in their time of need,” you murmured, stepping through the front door as Spencer held it open for you.
Setting the carrier on the coffee table, you undid the clips so that you could hold the baby. As you lifted her, her legs scrunched up until you held her to your chest, at which point she settled.
“Where are they?” You asked, gently rubbing Nell’s back as she started to fall asleep on you. You peeked around the corner into the kitchen, across the counter, there were bottles set out to dry, along with other various baby things. “Oh, Spence,” you breathed.
There was a distinct lack of boxes in your house, they weren’t entirely unpacked, but there were much less than there had been when you left. A crash from upstairs got both of your attention, Spencer’s arm instinctively going around your waist.
Together, the two of you walked upstairs, finding members of the BAU in one of the rooms that was going to be a guest room setting up a nursery. “Hey?” You said, peeking in through the doorway.
“Oh my god!” Penelope said, “Wait, crap, sleeping baby.” She covered her mouth with her hands, horrified at the idea of disturbing the sleeping infant.
You smiled, looking around suspiciously, “What’s going on here?”
Rossi waved a finger at you, “Your best friend is a drill sergeant is what’s going on here.”
Confused, you turned around to see Ivy with her hands on her hips. “I thought you weren’t coming home until the afternoon,” she explained, “I was going to have them all out of here so you could have a nice peaceful house.”
“You enlisted the BAU to unpack our house?” You asked her, tears pricking at your eyes.
Ivy shrugged, “It started as just asking a question, but we all came to the same conclusion. The two of you were never going to ask for help, so we had to take matters into our own hands.” She wiped her hands on her jeans, “Plus, they have kids, so they actually knew what you needed,” she gestured to JJ and Hotch.
You leaned forward to give her a one-armed hug, keeping yourself mindful of the baby. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Penelope hugging Spencer.
JJ stepped forward, “I’m around. Any questions you have,” she assured you. “How are you feeling?”
Laughing nervously, you looked up at Spencer, “Still reeling.”
The rest of the team laughed too, which brought you some semblance of comfort. “I almost thought you were playing a prank,” Emily confessed.
“No, you definitely thought they were trying to prank us. You didn’t believe them until they sent the picture,” Morgan said, exposing her.
Appalled, Emily rolled her eyes, but you spoke up, “I’m not sure I would have believed us either.” Had you not experienced it firsthand, you definitely would’ve been skeptical. Eleanor was going on two days old, and you had still woken up wondering if it was all some kind of dream.
Spencer had previously told everyone that no one could hold her. He was concerned about germs. You echoed his concerns, just maybe not as strongly. So, instead, everyone just cooed at her until Spencer gently ushered you into your bedroom.
You let out a sigh of relief when you spotted a bassinet set up next to your bed. Gently, you set her down while Spencer pulled the bedding down, “You should rest,” he told you softly.
“Spence, I just spent the majority of the last two days in a bed. I’m tired of bed,” you responded, sitting down on the ledge of the bed.
He hummed in response, “You just had a baby.”
Reaching out, you took his hands in yours, “Moving around will be good for me. I promise not to do anything to tear my stitches. I’ll just show Nell the house.”
“Babies don’t recognize their surroundings until four to six months, so she wouldn’t recognize anything you showed her anyway,” he told you.
You narrowed your eyebrows at him, “Spencer."
He held up his hands in concession, “Right, overbearing.”
“Hey,” you said softly, “We’re still figuring this out, right? So, we’ll take it one step at a time.” You offered, having already had an in-depth discussion about being okay with making mistakes. “Why don’t we go check out the nursery?” You stood up, watching as Spencer carefully picked Nell up, cradling her in his arms.
You led the way into the hallway to find JJ, Morgan, and Ivy finishing the nursery. Morgan and JJ moved the crib to a different side of the room while Ivy placed books on a shelf.
Ever so slightly, you leaned into Spencer, glancing at the sleeping infant in his arms, you reached over and cupped her head with your hand. “This is your family, Nell,” you whispered, smiling when Spencer leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.
That was your first lesson in parenthood, it really does take a village.  
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unsteddie · 3 months
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Steve and Eddie are on again off again for years after the events of st4. It's never too serious, they have basically opposite schedules. Eddie tends bar and plays with his band, existing mostly at night. Steve gets a degree and moves onto being a school counselor, late nights are the bane of his existence. It's easier when they live together, but over the years they've moved in and out of the little place they share with Robin.
Eddie's moved cities a few times, tried living with the band, has been on and off tour. Steve moved back home when his parents divorced for about a year to help his mom out, moved in and usually quickly out with partners. He volunteered a few summers to live in low income rural areas and help with the schools summer programs.
They just never quite get the timing right to try anything other than casual. It's honestly tearing Steve apart, it's been the source of every break up he's had since meeting the man. Eddie however seems entirely unbothered.
Steve knows for a fact he's Eddie's favorite person. Even when Eddie is "seeing" someone else, Eddie's relationships are never serious, he still prefers to spend his time with Steve. He just doesn't get why Eddie doesn't want something real, but he doesn't push, doesn't wanna lose what he has
It's a full decade of this nonsense before the song Quit Playing Games With My Heart by The Backstreet Boys comes out. Steve doesn't really care much about the band, he likes boy band music well enough. It's fun and catchy and danceable. But he's picking Eddie up from the airport, back from a three month stint in LA recording and promoting with the band. And the air is tense as the lyrics spill out of the radio, and it makes Steve feel heavy.
The song ends but he's still pretty misty, it's only ten minutes back to the apartment. He can hold it back, and when they're home he'll just excuse himself and cry quietly on his bed. He's done it plenty of times before, this is no different, he's got this, he's good.
"Stevie?" Eddie asks softly, and his his voice sounds strained, like something's got him worked up too.
Steve can't respond, not with his voice, so he just sort of nods, doesn't look at Eddie, but can feel the weight of Eddie's stare.
"What is it about me that you don't wanna stick around for?" He asks quietly, but there's a solid quality to his tone, like this is a question he's resolved to ask many times, and finally got his nerve up.
Steve doesn't respond for a long time, as pieces slowly move into place. Eddie has always seemed so unaffected, even congratulating Steve when things got serious with someone else. But if he looked closely at Eddie's reactions now, in retrospect, with the way he asked his quiet question, it clicks.
Eddie never liked any of Steve's partners, always gave Steve an out of he needed it, was always a little petty about Steve's ex's after a breakup. The thought that maybe, for all these years, a decade now, they'd been wasting their time keep things casual was just...well it was fucking hilarious. Terrible and heartbreaking, sure. But it kick started ridiculous sounding giggles.
Giggles quickly snowballed into full hysterical laughter. He glanced at Eddie who looked hurt, which was absurd. Steve's laughter became unhinged, and he had to pull off the road. Eddie didn't look hurt anymore when he looked back, he looked furious, and he was wiping his cheeks. Steve hadn't seen tears, but the idea that Eddie was crying over him did nothing to quell the laughter.
The moment the car stopped Eddie threw the door open, and climbed out. Grabbing his duffle from the back seat. He managed to stomp a good distance away before Steve could get himself together enough to chase after him. He was still giggling when he caught up enough to grab the strap of Eddie's bag. He pulled it back hard enough to knock Eddie off balance, and had to reach out to steady him.
"Eddie please," he paused to laugh and catch his breath as Eddie struggled to pull out of his grip. "Please, baby, give me a minute."
Eddie froze at that. They didn't use pet names like that. Nothing so relationship-y. It was enough to make Eddie wait for him. Steve didn't let go though, terrified Eddie might run off without a proper explanation.
He didn't know how to explain it, the years of longing, the way he'd wanted to ask the same question so many times, how he ached for him. He certainly didn't know how to explain his reaction.
"I don't know why it made me laugh like that." He started once he had his breathing under control. "Some stupid pop song-" and he was laughing again because this was stupid. He threw his hands up in frustration, immediately grabbing onto Eddie again when his hands came back down.
"some stupid pop song had me on the brink of tears, because my stupid, broken heart-" more laughter, and Steve was getting really tired of this. "Aches for you, when you've, I guess-" laughter, "been feeling the same way. God Eddie how stupid are we?"
And with that the giggles were gone, his insides had gone suddenly still, and he felt the loss of the time they could have had.
"how long?" Eddie asked, quiet again, he was never this quite. When Steve looked at him now his face was hard to read, tears still brimming in his eyes, but the anger and hurt were gone.
"since the boat house probably, at least since the hospital, for sure. When you woke up and you were cuffed to the bed. The first thing you said was some joke about being flattered they thought you were that dangerous. I knew for sure then, but I think it started in the boat house." Steve flushed, his face hot and pink.
"God, no, that's ..we can't have been feeling the same way so long. Stevie, what have we been doing?" Tears were falling, both men crying on the side of the road, and Eddie was holding onto Steve now too.
"Didn't think you'd want me for real. Didn't think anyone-" Steve coughed around the lump in his throat. "Tried to move on, so many times. Never could, it always came back to you."
And Eddie was suddenly in his arms, weeping, getting tight words out between sobs. "Never. Anything. Compare. No one. Even close. Just you. My Stevie."
"Didn't catch all that sweetheart. You'll have to tell me the rest later." Steve whispered into his ear, and Eddie melted in his arms, nodding emphatically into Steve's shoulder.
The time they waisted sat heavy on Steve's shoulders, but he had Eddie now. Eventually they would joke about it, about pining after each other for a decade before getting thier shit together, but it was gonna hurt for a while still.
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arminsumi · 1 year
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I WANT TO KISS YOU / キスしたい
↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader
you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.
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Summary : you've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. Very cute. Very cheesy. Oh no... wait is there a tension between you and his best friend, too? Oh boy...
Warnings : romantic tension with Suguru / potential love triangle, cat scratch
Note : i think of this fic a lot and i found the continuation hiding out in my drafts sooo here 👍
🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works
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Satoru blinks awake to see your face. His heart beats harder.
結局昨日は夢ではなかったのか? Yesterday was not a dream after all?
He's not an early bird at all, but from the first day of your visit he magically woke up early as if his soul was too excited to sleep when it knew you were right there, in the flesh. No screen. Just you.
When the first day starts, it feels like you've always been together. Was there ever a screen separating the two of you? And were you really going to disappear behind one again in just a month?
今のところ、彼女はここに留まるように感じています。彼女が訪問を終えて出発するとき、私は空港で赤ん坊のように泣くことになると思います。 For now, she feels like she's here to stay. I think I'm going to cry like a baby at the airport when she leaves after her visit.
Morning routines are carried out. The sky is cloudy at first, threatening rain, and by the time you three cluster into the kitchen to make breakfast together, it starts raining.
You and Satoru banter like two cats. Suguru's morning rasp is very strong.
"Satoru... uh... sugar?" you ask, preparing to make yourself a second one and automatically making Satoru another one, since he looks still very bleary-eyed even after spending an hour freshening up in the bathroom.
"...? Yes?" he tilts his head, then you raise the sugar cube jar. "Yes. Uh... four. Thank you."
Suguru's blushing because of the cute tension between you and his best friend. It fills the whole kitchen, which already felt full with their two bodies and a third one now. Everyone keeps bumping elbows and yet not complaining about it, in fact it's enjoyable to be squished together. Maybe because you three waited so long to be together in person, you don't mind it. There's a silent, ever-present comedy in the air about the tight proximity.
You hum happily, tossing in one, two, three... four? That's a lot of sugar. "Suguru, tell Satoru he mustn't have so much sugar all the time. It's not good for his health."
Suguru laughs. "I try to tell him that every day. But his sweet tooth is incurable."
"His dentist must hate him." you smirk at Satoru, who's been looking at you blushingly after hearing his name mentioned.
彼女の声が今では一番好きな音だと思います。 I think her voice is my favorite sound now.
もう一度私の名前を言ってください。 Please say my name again.
"Satoru? Coffee?" you interrupt his lovey-dovey thoughts and he suddenly reanimates himself, because for a moment there he zoned out and just stared at you with those pretty eyes.
"Mmm... thanks." he takes the coffee from you with a noticeable timidness that you can't quite explain. There's a lot about him that's indescribable, you're having a small internal crisis; aren't you supposed to be fluent in English? And yet you can't even begin to describe just how sweet and gentle Satoru behaves. The most you can do is use metaphors that barely justify him.
"Suguru, tell her... her voice is nice, and also sorry for cuddling you in my sleep (and that she can definitely kick me away at night if it bothers her.) Also!" (the three of you head into the living room, and Suguru habitually trips over the cat who stalks under his feet too quietly to notice) "Also tell her... if it rains today, does she still want to go out? Because if we go out in the rain, she might get sick. And I don't want her to get sick on her trip. Not that I'd mind taking care of you, Y/n, of course."
Suguru lets out a long sigh and pulls a funny face. You smile amusedly.
"...It's too early to be a translator..." he grumbles in English after Satoru overloads him.
"What? C'mon tell her everything I said!"
"Let me have my coffee first. How about the two of you write to each other?" he suggests, putting the rim of the cup to his lips and sipping languidly.
"Eh, fine." Satoru pouts, and stalks off into his bedroom to get his phone.
Then, when he's in his bedroom, his chest flutters for some reason when he sees your suitcase standing there opened and emptied into the free cupboard space. He takes his phone, smiles at the homely feeling of seeing your belongings in his room, and leaves.
"Oh..." he has a sudden idea, and remembers the magnetic drawing board that's hanging in the kitchen. He and Suguru usually use it for writing reminders to each other, like get milk or you're an idiot or sometimes it has doodles of Mint the cat with sunglasses on.
So he returns to you with this magnetic drawing board, and points at it meaningfully, then holds one finger up and bows his head as he begins writing very slowly.
Suguru's checking the weather forecast and muttering sour complaints under his breath to you. "Of course it would rain for three days just when you arrive... at least by the weekend it will be clear and sunny..."
"Mmm... it's alright. A little rain never hurt nobody." you respond.
"I like your optimism." Suguru compliments flippantly at first, but then continues; "It's really uplifting. I think Satoru said something about you being a joy once, he said it really poetically but I can't recall it now."
"Aw..." you dip your head beneath your coffee cup, hiding the bashful expression on your face, which Suguru chuckles at.
And then, for a long moment, you just stare and watch Satoru writing on the board. You're completely captured in this moment, completely captivated in his enveloping presence as he sits next to you. He has slow, meticulous wrist movements. His knees press together, like he's worried that he'll invade your personal space if he sits too comfortably close to you. Funny, considering he cuddled you all night and you had no complaints about it.
He's writing very simply and neatly, just like how he texts you. You're a bit baffled by the characters he's using, though he's trying his best to avoid using any kanji knowing that you don't know a lot of it. He's sure you can figure things out by slowly pronouncing each hiragana character, or at least he hopes.
"Here." he hands you the magnetic drawing board, and then raises from the couch to go feed the cat.
"Minto-Minto... " he calls after the cat and makes a small cute sound to lure her out.
You're trying to read each hiragana character, eyes squinting a bit.
Suguru leans in close to you. He just takes a look, but the proximity for some reason gives both of you butterflies.
"Ooh... that's cute." Suguru comments after reading what Satoru wrote. His voice reaches deep in your tummy.
"Hm... I'll spell it out and... figure it out... anyways, why did you name your cat Mint?"
"Oh... well. There's two reasons. So the first..." he sets down his coffee, like he's about to tell you a great story, "Is because Satoru watched this show called Tokyo Mew Mew growing up, and he liked the character Minto. So he calls her Minto. And then I agreed on calling her that, but I call her Mint, because I hate mint the herb."
"You — haha, wait what? You call her Mint because you hate mint?"
"Yes. I hate mint, both the herb and the cat. She hates me too, clearly." Suguru raises his hand to remind you of how the cat scratched him the night before.
"Such a cute Hello Kitty sticker..." you tease.
"Thank you. Only the manliest men wear Hello Kitty Bandaids."
"How did she scratch you anyways...?"
"Oh, she likes to hang out in the washing machine if Satoru accidentally leaves it open. And when I try take her out of her comfy spot, she scratches me."
You sympathize, "Poor thing."
"What, the cat or me?" Suguru laughs.
"The cat." you lie teasingly.
"Wow! And here I thought you were being sympathetic!" he raises his brows.
You giggle and look at him, eyes finally making contact — ooh no that's bad bad bad, better break it immediately. So the two of you look away like you've both just indulged in a taboo intimacy. His stomach flips.
"Minto has been fed. She gave me cuddles." Satoru comes back into the room, and you admire the feeling he brings with him.
"No scratches?" Suguru asks.
"No, obviously, she loves me more than you." Satoru cheeks.
"Fuck you, haha."
Satoru makes his voice lower and leans to Suguru, "(Did she figure out what I wrote yet?)"
"Y/n did you figure out what he wrote?" Suguru asks.
"I'm trying so hard. What does this part mean...?"
Suguru shakes his head and puts his hands up. "Like I said, I'm not Mr Translator in the mornings."
"But you've had your coffee! Please, just this part..." you beg, and he can't deny that sweet begging. He easily folds for it, just like when Satoru begs for anything.
"Okay, where — this? Uh... Satoru your handwriting isn't usually this neat, is it...? That part means... 'voice'."
"Oh... ohhh!" you suddenly realize, and then the boys swoon over you when you pronounce the characters out loud to yourself.
"Uh... I think I know what it means..." you feel your cheeks warm up from the crown to your jawline.
あなたのこえがすき。 a-na-ta-no-ko-e-ga-su-ki.
"I like your voice, too." you respond to Satoru, and he half-gets it and gives you a thumbs up.
"Thanks."
You look at each other and then promptly look away with shy smiles.
"You two are cute." Suguru comments.
"Ahah... ahah shut up... hey, the sky has cleared up." you point out.
"Ooh... it cleared up 'cuz Satoru walked back into the room."
You awe at what he said.
"?"
"Nothing."
"Hey, Translator — (stop talking about me behind my back!)"
Suguru chuckles, "I wasn't! I was just — never mind. Let's get ready to head out."
And so you head into Satoru's bedroom to get ready, and Suguru heads into his bedroom, and Satoru himself goes into the cramped bathroom. Poor boy. He's really too tall for that archway, he bumped his head again.
彼女に花を買ってあげるべきでしょうか?それともちょっと多すぎますか? Should I buy her flowers? Or is it a bit too much?
(なんてことだ)、なぜこのシャツには穴が開いているのでしょう? (Oh my god), why does this shirt have holes?
The door slides open, he steps out of the bathroom half-dressed, and intends to quickly slip into Suguru's bedroom to borrow a shirt instead of awkwardly knocking on his bedroom door and disturbing you.
But oh, you know what? The cheesiest possible thing happens instead. The universe likes making Satoru's life a little more fun in odd times. So the two of you encounter each other in the hallway; you're fully clothed and he's got just pants and socks on.
He stutters once, swallows awkwardly, and even more awkwardly places his hand on your head as if to say sorry for this inconvenience.
But you laugh in response to the funny situation.
ああ、またあの美しい笑い声。 Ah, that beautiful laugh again.
"Sorry." he mutters, and disappears to go get a shirt from Suguru.
"It's okay." you reply.
The image of your pretty smile is burned in his head.
You can hear him telling Suguru something in the other room, and then you hear Suguru's muffled laugh as a response.
"(Don't laugh! I'm embarrassed! She's seen me shirtless now! No one's seen me shirtless except you!)"
"(You're such a virgin.)"
"(Say that again, I dare you.)"
"(Sorry, I don't understand you. I don't speak virgin, only English and Japanese.)"
You're wondering why Satoru sounds so embarrassed and annoyed, and then he groans down the hallway. It feels like you're their roommate, it's funny.
"Hi."
"Hi."
The two of you encounter each other in the hall again. This time he has a shirt, yes. And this time Suguru is there, too, and he's holding back an amused smile. He fluffs Satoru's hair as a way of embarrassing him more.
So Satoru leaves, and he leaves in such a way that it's super comedic, making you and Suguru laugh. Ooh, what a laugh that boy has; his Addam's apple shifts up and down deliciously.
"Ah... Suguru? I need help with the washing machine..."
"Yes...?"
"...this kid on the plane who sat next to me, he spilled strawberry juice all over my shirt and now it's sticky."
"But at least it smells like strawberries, right?" he jokes. "You can put it in the washing machine, I'll be doing the laundry in a second anyways..." there is a small moment of eye contact shared, then Suguru looks down, and frowns at something he sees, "(SATORU YOU LEFT YOUR SOCK ON THE FLOOR AGAIN!)"
"(Haha, sorry.)" you hear Satoru half-heartedly apologize from the other room.
So Suguru picks up the sock like an annoyed mother and goes to lecture Satoru.
"(You're embarrassing me in front of our guest. For the love of god, don't leave your goofy ass socks on the floor. What if she slips on them?)"
"(You're such a mother, Suguru.)"
You're calmly and casually going to put your juice-stained shirt in the washing machine like Suguru said, but then...
(the boys are talking and there's just this hilariously dramatic scream from the laundry room)
"DID THE CAT SCRATCH YOU?"
"(Did the cat scratch her?)"
"Ow, y-yeah!" you whine.
Suguru's the first one at the crime scene, and he picks up the cat and proceeds to lecture the cat as if it understands Japanese. It licks its lips and nubby nose and has an evil stare. You giggle.
"I'm so sorry... come, uh — (Suguru, we still have Hello Kitty adhesives somewhere, right?)" Satoru instinctually holds your hand that got scratched.
And he holds it so tenderly and caringly that it makes your whole chest quake for him.
彼女の手の傷はとても小さなものですが、それでも私は心臓がチクチクするのを感じました。 Although the wound on her hand was very small, I still felt my heart tingle.
He leads you to his bedroom, picking up some adhesives and antiseptic on the way, and sits with you on the unmade beds. You watch his fingers nimbly peeling the plastic off the adhesive, admiring how swiftly and perfectly he does even the littlest things. He has such a great attention to detail, it makes you self-conscious; is he thinking of you with the same attention to detail as everything else? Yes... he is.
He dabs some antiseptic on your small scratch, and then gently wraps and pats the Hello Kitty adhesive around it. You're pretty sure he's the one who bought them. Oh, if only you could ask him, but where even is your phone? Lost in a void somewhere, probably.
"Thank you, Satoru."
His eyes light up. His heart thumps. Why did those small, simple words have such a great effect on him?
"Mhm." he hums in acknowledgement. "You're welcome."
あなたの傷がもっと良くなるようにキスしたいです。 I want to kiss your wounds to make them better.
A second after thinking this and looking at your hand, he brings it to his lips and presses a very delicate kiss to the edge of your wrist, where the small cut spanned up to the base of your palm. Can you even call it a kiss? It's more like his lips graze your skin, hovering timidly.
And for some reason... the atmosphere becomes very intimate. Is it because of the place where he kissed you? The inner wrist has never occurred to you to be an intimate spot, and yet you're feeling as if he just kissed you on the lips.
You hear him audibly swallow, like he's conscious of this, too. The both of you become very aware of the tension in the atmosphere.
And then he looks apologetic, as if he overstepped a boundary. So you mutter a small, whispery "thanks..." which lifts his heart up into his throat and reassures him that you don't mind the intimacy.
"Mmm..." he blinks at you, pursing his lips.
His eyes linger on your lips for a moment, and it feels like he's about to... well you know his body just wants to... he sort of...
"Hey, how's the wounded patient?" Suguru interrupts, and you and Satoru spring apart like you're elastic bands that just got released after being stretched.
"Ahah, I'm okay. It's not a bad scratch." you lift your hand, "I'll cherish this Hello Kitty Bandaid forever, thank you."
"Yeah, Satoru bought 'em so you can thank him."
"I knewww he bought them, haha! So expected... cutiepie." you admire Satoru, and he's pretty sure that the last thing you said is some cute nickname, so he smirks.
"Okay, well... anyways, let's head out before the sun rises too high and it gets too hot to walk."
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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reidmania · 1 month
Text
in between | spencer reid
good riddance x spencer reid one shot masterlist.
part one, part two, part three
summary; after being together for two months, you and spencer had yet to go further than making out, until now.
warnings; 18+ mdni, soft dom spencer, no actual sex. fingering, slightly inexperienced reader, a tiny bit more experienced spencer, mentions of bad sexual relations in the past, references longer hair on reader
an; i suck at writing smut so i refuse to be held responsible for this cause ik i asked but u guys really gave me no choice ‘100% for yes part 3 should have smut’ MY ASS. y’all hate me and want me to die.
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‘She toes the line between 'em, he says he's new at this, there's holy ground beneath them, and sparks fly when they kiss. He hates it when she's crying, he hates when she's away, even at their worst, they know they'll still be okay.’
<>
In the two months that you and Spencer had been together you had seen him four times. Which was a disgustingly low amount, you both hated it — That wasn’t a question, but with him working so much and you living in a different state, you both did your best.
You saw him on weekends when you could, when he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes he would take a day trip to see you, just to get coffee or go to the library together. He never didn’t make an effort, anytime you two could see each other, you did.
Like now, Spencer knew it was almost silly to celebrate two months together in an extravagant way, but it gave him the perfect excuse to see you — Not that he needed one, but he wasn’t gonna waste it either way.
He had made it very clear to Hotch that if a case came up, or if anyone from the team called him — He wouldn’t be answering, after the two of you had been interrupted one time you came to stay at his place, he got a call about a case, by the time he got home you had already left due to the time of your flight.
He refused to have that happen again, not this time.
You had got to the airport maybe an hour ago, he was there to meet you just like every other time. Now, you were sitting on his sofa, legs crossed as you rested your head on his shoulder, some documentary playing on the tv. A lot of the time you spent together was like this — just enjoying one another’s presence while you had it.
Spencer arm was over your shoulder, his fingertips drawing soft shapes on your arms which left goosebumps in their trail, their movements never faltered.
“Hey” He said gently, as if not wanting to break the comfortable silence that surrounded the two of you. You turned your head, still rested on his shoulder but now looking up at him.
“Hello” You said back, the same soft tone, the corner of your lips tugged upwards into a smile. Your eyes held his gaze, your stomach full of something so familiar. Something you felt every time he was around you— Anytime you heard his voice. Comfort, warmth, safety. All of the same sort.
He smiled back, then as if he couldn’t help it his head lent down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, only causing your smile to widen. He pulled away to reposition slightly so he could look at your face better. “I wanna take you out” He said gently.
You hummed, eyebrow raising a little in curiosity. It wasn’t that you and Spencer didn’t go on dates, you did. Bookstore, library, cafe, flower shop, bakery’s. All the soft romantic things you both adored to do together, although by the way he spoke you assumed he had something different in mind.
“Do you?” You teased lightly.
He nodded, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back, your cheeks flushed at the motion. He did that a lot, the small soft kisses as if it was just habit. You adored those.
“I do. Tonight, is that okay with you?”
He asked, and you smiled.
A soft nod came, before you were speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t have anything nice to wear” You mumbled gently. You packed everything comfortable, you had nice things, but not like extremely nice, nothing fancy.
He shook his head gently, free arm that wasn’t wrapped around your shoulder coming up to brush gentle hairs away from your forehead. “Thats okay, We can get you something, or we can go in pyjamas, make a statement” He mumbled out, a playful smile on his lips as his forehead bumped yours gently.
You let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. The same playful smile on your lips mirroring his. Your forehead came to nudge his back. “Mm, don’t hate me” You hummed, smiling gently. His head tilted in curiosity of what you were going to say.
“I didn’t pack pyjamas.” You admitted, the last few times you had been here you ended up wearing one of Spencer’s shirts to bed anyways, so you ultimately decided this time there was no point even bringing your own.
He smiled, knowingly, understanding why you didn’t, but then he huffed out playfully, tsking gently as he shook his head. “You had one job, one. job.” He mumbled, faux disappointment lacing his tone only making your smile widen.
“Whoops?” You suggested, shrugging your shoulders.
He let out a snort at your half assed fake guilt, his hands came down to grip your waist, his fingers digging into the sides of your skin making you squeal gently and squirm under his touch. Your hands came down to grip his wrists, trying to tug them away from your side.
After a moment, he gave in, letting you push his hands away, to which you instead interlaced your fingers, holding them up in front of you. “I hate when you do that” You huffed out. You did partly, but not enough to actually be upset about it.
He raised his eyebrow, squeezing your hand gently. “Do you now?” He asked. You rolled your eyes, nodding. He knew it, you knew he did because you told him every-time he did it. For some reason he just enjoyed making you squirm, watching you get frustrated for a total of three seconds before it all turned playful again.
“You know I do” You muttered. You turned slightly so you were facing him, your gaze held his and any doubt you could possibly have washed away just by the look of love and admiration in his eyes.
“Okay, I wont do it again” He said softly, his hands pulled away from yours to instead gently cradle your jaw in his hands, leaning down to place another gentle kiss on your lips.
You knew he would do it again, and you were okay with that.
Spencer realised he had made a mistake. A big mistake.
Buying you a dress, wasn’t the mistake but thinking his thoughts would stay innocent when seeing you in it was. He had let you pick out whatever dress you wanted, insisting on paying for it, he let it remain a surprise. Keeping his gaze away as you used his card to pay for it until it was hidden away in a bag.
Now, seeing you standing in his bathroom, the dress on, your hair falling perfectly to frame your face and your smile. He was having a hard time focusing. He leant against the door frame as he watched you fix your hair.
He wondered if it was possible for you to be any more perfect.
Then you made eye contact with him in the mirror and raised your hand to wave gently, and he decided it was.
The entire night was perfect, any time with you was, but tonight it was exactly what he wanted it to be. The place the two of you went to was fancy but not extreme, the two of you ate and joked throughout the entire time and Spencer knew he was in love with you.
He had always known that, but the words begged to leave his lips more then ever when you were sitting in the passenger seat in his car, using a plastic water bottle as a microphone as you sung out the song playing on the radio as he drove the two of you back to his place.
At a red light, he turned to look at you. You were busy peeling off the wrapper around the water bottle to notice, a small thing that made his heart warm. His gaze dropped down to your thigh, one his hands moving to rest on top of it, then his eyes were stuck on the way it had ridden up your thigh as you were sitting and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
His hand rested against your thigh innocently, although his thumb moved to tuck under the hem of your dress slightly, rubbing the skin there soothingly. Your eyes moved from the bottle to his hand, then to his face.
He had turned back to the road now, when the light had gone green, he could see you looking at him in his peripheral. He was trying to remain calm but he felt as if the car temperature increase massively in seconds.
“You’re pretty” You mumbled out and he knew he was done.
His gaze flicked from the road to your face. A smile on his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wondered if maybe he should pull over because he was struggling to pull his eyes away from your face.
“You’re pretty.” He said back, his gaze flicking back to the road as he turned down the street his house was on, thankful in a few seconds he would no longer have to worry about crashing the car because he was too focused on you.
You hummed, scrunching up your nose slightly at his compliment. He was pulling into his driveway and you were turning your body to face him in the passenger seat. “Im serious. You are really pretty.”
He smiled as he put the car in park, he undid his seatbelt before mirroring your actions turning to face you. “Im serious too. You are also really pretty.” He said in the same tone as you, before he was leaning in to press his lips against yours. His hand left your thigh to instead rest against your jaw, fingertips curling into your hair.
You hummed into the kiss, your hands coming to either side of his neck. Your heart burst at the feeling of his lips warm and gentle against yours the feeling of his cool hands pressing against your warm cheeks.
Your hand left his neck in order to undo your seatbelt, and reposition slightly so you could lean in closer while still not breaking the kiss. One of his hands trailed from your jaw to the back of your head, cradling it as his fingers tangled in your hair, encouraging you closer to him.
After a moment, his lips pulled away from yours but he stayed close, hands remaining in place and his forehead rested against yours as he spoke almost breathlessly, in a way that made your heart beat quicken. “We- We should go inside.” He said.
You nodded, “We should.” You said in the same breathless tone. He stayed in place for a moment just looking into your eyes before he nodded again, pulling back in order to open the car door.
Then he was out, walking around to open the door for you. You smiled as you took his hand, he closed the door once you were out and his hands then moved to your waist, staying close behind you as the two of you walked to the door.
He huffed out when he had to pull his hand away in order to pull his keys out of his pocket, his chest pressed against your back as he leant in to unlock the door after fumbling to find the right key for a moment. His hand moved to press against your stomach as he did so, holding you close against him.
When you were inside he loosened his grip slightly, walking to the kitchen he freed his pockets of his wallet and phone, and keys, he left them all on the kitchen counter before his eyes looked back at you.
You were wandering towards his bedroom, he smiled at the sight before he was following you. He walked fast in order to catch up, hands gripping your hips making you jump in shock, you turned your head to look at him.
“That was mean- Don’t do that” You huffed out, he grinned, his hand moving from your hip to the side of your cheek in order to turn your face more towards him, then he was kissing you again.
You allowed it for a moment, before your neck began to cramp at the uncomfortable positioning. You turned so you were facing him, chest pressed against his as your hands came to rest on either side of his jawline.
His hand pressed against the small of your back, holding you against him while his other hand, re-tangled in your hair. Then his feet were stumbling toward and yours back as he led you both blindly to his bedroom. His hand left your back to push the door open.
His tongue pressed against your bottom lip searching for entrance, your lips parted as his hands moved to press against the back of your thigh, your arms moved to wrap around your neck.
His lips left for a moment, but stayed close so you could feel them moving as he spoke quietly and breathlessly, “You’re so beautiful” He said as his fingers dug into the skin of your thighs, pulling you upwards so he was holding you, your legs wrapping around his torso.
You hummed and then leant back in to press your lips against his again, this time there was no build up, it was instantly more messy than it had been any other time, desperate, yet soft.
He walked to the bed, not breaking the kiss as his tongue mapped out your mouth, as if trying to memorise it. He got on his knees on the soft foam of the mattress, laying you down on your back, lips never leaving yours as his hands came to rest on either side of your head, cradling you in.
Normally, this is where the two of you would stop. Any other time he would roll off and make a comment or offer to put on a movie, read to you, make you coffee or something. Yet his lips stayed against yours as he remained on his knees in between your thighs that had remained parted once he laid you down.
His hands trailed down to your shoulder, his fingertips brushing against the strap of your dress softly so it draped down the curve of your shoulder. He pulled away, leaning back to look at your face.
His eyes trailed down every feature, the way your lips had gone slightly puffy and red from the kiss, the way your cheeks were flush, hair a mess, eyes lidded, it made his heartbeat increase.
“Is this okay?” He asked, voice quiet and husky in a way that made your stomach swell with nerves. His fingertips brushed over the empty space of your collarbone and shoulder where the strap had fallen from.
You nodded, looking up at him. He smiled gently and leant down to press a trail of gentle kiss down your jaw, then he moved down your neck, his hand moving to the other strap of your dress, pushing it down your shoulder.
“Spencer” You mumbled out, looking down at him as his kisses trailed down to your collarbone, hand coming to rest on either side of your waist. He looked up at you through his lashes and you swore your heart stopped.
He looked at you, his lips pressed against your skin, you felt his breath as he mumbled out a gentle ‘Mhm?’ In response.
You were at a loss for words honestly, eyebrows furrowed in deep focus, this was new, with Spencer it was new. You hadn’t had sex, you hadn’t gone past making out, you hadn’t even really talked about it.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you did. You were just nervous.
He noticed your silence and pulled away to sit up, looking down at you. You instantly missed the feeling of his lips on your skin and the close proximity of his body against yours. His fingers ran gently down the side of your waist as his eyes stayed trained on your face, searching for what had you so choked up.
“We can stop.” He said gently, he wanted you to be comfortable and the last thing he would ever want you to do is feel pushed or pressured into doing something you didn’t want to do. You shook your head.
You didn’t want to stop, actually you really wanted to keep going.
“I still have my shoes on” You stated quietly. instead. He paused for a moment, before he let out a gentle laugh, nodding his head as he shuffled away in order to take off your shoes for you.
“You still have a lot on” He mumbled out under his breath but you caught it and it made your cheeks warm. You perched yourself up onto your elbow to watch him as he pulled your shoes off your feet, dropping them at the end of the bed before kicking off his own.
Then he was pulling his suit jacket off, and undoing the first few buttons of the white dress shirt he had been wearing before he was leaning back up to press another gentle kiss on your lips.
“You’re quiet” He said, taking note of it. You shrugged your shoulders. You were nervous, you had a lot going through your head and that mixed with his hands on your body and the sight of him made you rather nervous and a little light headed.
You looked up at him, “Is that bad?” You asked. It wasn’t that you hadn’t had sex before, you had, just not.. Good sex. It was with a guy you dated for a short while who had very little care for anything other than his own pleasure, and before that when you were freshly 18 and graduating.
Neither were very good.
He hummed, leaning up to brush hair away from your face. “You tell me, sweet girl. You okay?” He asked. He wanted you comfortable, feeling good, if you weren’t then there was no point in doing it.
You nodded again, “Im okay- Not a bad thing.” You said, leaning up to press your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss before pulling away. He moved down to rest on his heels between your thighs.
You watched him, “Can we take this off?” He asked as his finger tips hooked under the hem of your dress. You nodded again, he smiled and lowered himself a little to press a soft kiss against your stomach over the fabric of the dress before his hands bunched the ends of it to pull it up over your stomach, then you were tugging your arms out of the straps and sitting up as Spencer pulled it off over your head.
His eyes trailed over your body and you swore the house had gotten too warm. Your head was spinning as you watched his face, his eyes as they trailed over every aspect of you.
“You’re- My gosh. You’re beautiful, you are so beautiful” He mumbled, it seemed like it was more to himself than it was to you but it made you smile and feel a little less revealed.
“My socks are still on.” You said, uncomfortably away of everything touching you at the moment, the way the bedsheets felt under your back, the way your undergarments sat almost uncomfortably uncovered, the only thing seemly comfortable was Spencers hands.
He was the one to nod this time, he leant down to rest on his stomach in between your thighs, pressing gentle kiss to the plush skin of your thighs as his hands rested over them, rubbing softly over the skin. “I know” He mumbled out against the skin of your thigh.
You huffed, leaning back up on your elbows in order to look at him. “Isn’t it like a thing? That people don’t have socks on during sex” You mumbled the thing you had heard around, you couldn’t pin point where you had heard it from but you knew it was talked about.
He hummed, trailing soft kisses against your thigh, hands pushing them gently more apart. “Would you like me to take them off” He asked, voice muffled against your skin, you huffed.
“I don’t know. Why haven’t you?” You asked, wondering if there was a specific reason for him removing every other aspect of your clothing, besides your underwear, and just leaving your socks on.
He hooked his finger under the hemming of your underwear, his eyes flickering away as he looked up at you, eyes silently asking for consent to take them off. You nodded gently.
He placed another kiss to your thigh before he was pulling your underwear down. “Studies have shown that wearing socks during sex can help with better orgasms. Cause of your blood circulation” He mumbled out softly as he tapped your knee, you lifted your legs up so he could pull your underwear the rest of the way off before tossing them somewhere in the room, your legs returning spread around him.
“Really?” You asked gently, voice hitching as his hand came to rest against your inner thigh, pushing it open a little more to allow him better access. He hummed and nodded.
His fingers brushed gently over where you needed him the most, his focus completely on you and making you feel good as his fingers rubbed gently over the wet folds. He relished in the way you breath hitched.
“When your feet are cold, your body signals a fight or flight response, it sends the blood to your feet rather than anywhere else. When your body is warm-” His thumb moved to rub soft circles over your clit, his eyes flicking upwards to search for your search. A soft smile on his face when he watched your lips part and your eyes flutter shut.
“When your body is warm, you are instantly more relaxed and more comfortable, your feet are always gonna get cold first, so if they are warm, chances are the rest of your body will be warm as well. Then you get more blood flow where you need it, right here” He mumbled out, one finger presses gently and slowly into you making your eyes squeeze shut and your legs threaten to close.
He let out a soft laugh, pushing your thighs to remain open. “That feel good?” He asked, almost teasing you. You opened your eyes to glare at him, making him only laugh again.
“You don’t have your socks on.” You pointed out, breath shaky as you spoke, his finger moving slowly eyes focused on your face and every little reaction.
He nodded, “I don’t think I’m gonna have any issue.” He smiled. You let out a breathy laugh and smiled back before he pressed a second finger into you.
“Y-You think I will?” You asked, voice wavering as you tried to continue the conversation but honestly your mind was fading in and out of focus as you felt yourself clench around Spencer’s fingers.
He shook his head, leaning down to press a kiss against your thigh. “No, I am pretty confident” He mumbled out, a teasing smile on his lips as his fingers curled, a soft sound leaving your lips at the feeling. He only grinned wider. “But I don’t wanna take any chances. If it helps, then it helps, if it doesn’t then it doesn’t. Just want you to feel as good as possible.” He said gently, his fingers pumping up into you.
You hummed, moving off your elbow to rest on your back. Your eyes fluttered closed as a soft moan passed through your lips when you felt his fingers curl upwards against your g spot. He realised pretty quickly and continued his movements hitting that spot.
“Are you okay?” He checked in again, as his thumb came up to nudge your clit again, his fingers still curling against you. You hummed out in response as your back lifted slightly off the bed. He let out a soft laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your stomach.
“I was thinking about getting a cat” You huffed out. You knew it was probably the worst time to bring it up but the way your body was tensing as the knot in your stomach tightened it made you feel like you needed to relax your mind a little, and there was no better way to do that then to talk as if Spencer’s weren’t curling inside you.
He snorted as he looked up at you. “Have you now?” He understood the need to deflect. He was smart enough to know when things got intense in your body, calming your mind was helpful.
You let out a soft ‘mhm’ Followed by a small sound. “I wanna name it teddy.” You huffed out, chest rising and falling heavily as the tension in your stomach built, you could feel it in your thighs.
He smiled, “I cannot believe you are talking to me about cats when I am fingering you.” He mumbled out, his tone teasing and playful as the speed of his fingers increased.
You cringed at his words, “Thats so graphic Spence. Don’t say it like that” You huffed, squirming slightly as the pressure rose between your legs, you clenched subconsciously around Spencer’s fingers. His thumb flicked your clit gently, a playful grin on his lips as he watched you gasp.
“Sorry. How else would you like me to describe whats happening here?” He mumbled gently as he leant down to kiss your inner thigh, the pace of his fingers increasing the tighter you clenched around him, he could tell you were getting closer and he was making it his prime goal to get you there while keeping your pretty mind relaxed, even if that meant talking about cats.
You hummed, a gentle moan rolling off your lips. “Just- Don’t” You huffed, as your back arched in order to press yourself further against him. His fingers curled as your thighs got tense and begged to close, he had to hold them open.
He smiled. His focus now on making you finish. His fingers curled over your g spot repeatedly while his thumb moved against your clit, in circular motions.
“Spence.” You mumbled his name breathlessly, almost like a warning and his understood instantly, he continued his movements before he heard you moan, and then you clenched around him and gushed over his fingers.
He continued his movements a little slowly throughout your orgasm, enough to keep you going without overwhelming or overstimulating you. He pressed an abundance of gentle kisses against your thigh as you tried to catch your breath.
After a moment, his fingers pulled out of you. He kissed up your stomach. “Are you okay?” He asked again. Eyes trailing over your face, cheeks red and eyes closed, soft harsh breaths left your parted lips. You looked beautiful and Spencer wanted to tell you that a million times and more.
“Yes.” You exhaled, peeling your eyes open to look at him, “Thank you.” You mumbled, leaning up. He smiled and met you half way in order to press a gentle kiss against your lips before pulling back.
“Im gonna go get a rag okay, clean you up.” He mumbled out gently into your ear. You nodded half processing his words, your mind a bit of a mess as your focus was purely set on calming yourself down.
When you felt him leave the bed, you looked at him. “Wait.” You mumbled out, lifting yourself to sit up a little. He turned to face you, eyes trailing over your face to search for any indication that maybe something was wrong.
“Whats up sweetheart?”
You huffed out, looking up at him. There was a sort of blissed out expression on your face. “I love you” You said. You didn’t give yourself a chance to overthink it. You loved him, whether he loved you back yet or not. You loved him and you wanted him to know.
His features softened, a soft smile on his lips as your words settled in. His heart hammered against his ribcage. Acutely aware of everything; yet only focused on you.
“I love you.” He replied in the same sort of tone, certain, no question about it.
You smiled, “Okay- You can go now” You mumbled, laying back in bed now allowing him to go get a cloth to clean you up, you knew you’d have to get up to pee in a minute, but you figured that could wait.
He snorted, “Thanks for your permission” He smiled, You nodded, closing your eyes as a gentle exhale left your mouth.
He loved you. You loved him, you never wanted that to change and you didn’t believe it ever could.
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notsopersonalcharlie · 2 months
Text
Work Divorce
Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader angst/fluff
Summary: Aaron and you come to a realization when you get into a fight about a case.
Warnings: Cannon typical descriptions of violence, alcohol, mentions of divorce, aaron being cuddly, no use of Y/N
Notes: I thought of this (and wrote it) at the airport so sorry for mistakes! Read more of my hotch stuff here and the angsty interlude to this here Gif isn't mine
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“Absolutely not. You are not going out there.” Hotch’s mouth was a straight line, and his features read anger to anyone but you. It was his eyes that gave him away. Pure panic and fear.
“Hotch, I built a rapport with him over the phone. I can-“ You tried.
“That’s final.” The whole room was tense, the police officers who didn’t understand the implications and your team, who felt like they were watching their parents get into an argument.
“You have to let me do my job.” It hung in the air, and Hotch didn’t respond.
The tension followed the team onto the plane. The case had ended badly. Yes, the team had managed to rescue four of the five hostages, but not all of them and the unsub was dead. And it had become abundantly clear that Hotch had made the wrong choice. You could have saved them all.
You were kneeling on the dirt floor of the cave the unsub had dug, holding cloth to a bleeding hostage. The other four had been able to walk out on their own and you were waiting with her for the paramedics who had to make their way through the forest. She was crying, tears leaking down the sides of face and dragging clean lines in the dirt and blood that had been caked there.
“He wanted to talk to you. I could hear your voice. I cou-“ she hiccuped, “Why didn’t you come?”
Your lip trembled and you swallowed trying not to think of the memory as you curled yourself into a seat beside Derek, using him as a barrier against Aaron. He had sat down in his usual seat, the one beside it occupied by JJ who usually sat where you were now.
“You did what you could, kid,” Dave said, patting your shoulder on his way past you.
You tried to sleep on the flight, closing your eyes and staring at the back of your eyelids. You had no idea how much time had passed since the plane took off, but you heard an exchange beside you and Derek moved, replaced with the familiar warmth you knew as your husband.
“I-“
“I don’t want to talk right now,” you responded, eyes still closed. The scene of her body being carried out of the hole, limp hand sliding out of yours, was replaying on a loop. Aaron’s hand rested lightly on your calf where you’d pulled it up to make yourself smaller. It was his form of an ‘I’m sorry’.
-/-/-/-/-
Derek and Emily were whispering over the dividers between their desks when Spencer got in. He tossed his satchel in its usual spot and leaned over.
“What’s going on?”
“Their stuff is gone from their desk. Hotch got here alone,” Emily hissed, nodding to where you usually sat. All of your trinkets, colorful pens, and most importantly your wedding photo were gone. It had been a week since the last case, and the last time the team had seen the two of you together was the day after you got off the jet. You had gone into Hotch’s office, door closed, and from the expressions visible through the noise proof window, it looked like you were yelling at him.
You had left, stormed off was more like it, and not been back over the week. And now this on a monday morning. Hotch was visible through the window, frown prominent as he read over a case file. All three younger agents averted their eyes when he looked out, but Spencer managed to scan over the expression when Hotch looked at your empty desk. Melancholy was the best way he could name it.
-/-/-/-/-
Another week and another case passed without a single mention of you. Hotch had never been one to wear a wedding ring, not after his first divorce, so there was no indication there. Still Hotch’s expression flickered to sad when he looked anywhere you usually were, beside him on the jet, in the bullpen, at the round table, and even in moments when the team was used to your quips against him.
“Whatcha got, babygirl?”
“Is everyone there?” Garcia asked, uncharacteristic of her. All ears turned in that direction.
“Everyone but Hotch and Rossi.”
“Good. They are still married! Legally at least. Hotch put in the transfer papers two days after the fight for them to move to the counterterrorism team.”
“Three whole floors?” JJ joked.
“This isn’t a laughing matter, Jennifer!” Penelope’s voice shrilled, “This could be serious! The fight was real!”
“Baby girl, let’s not get all sorts of spin up.”
“They drive to work separately!” Reid cut in. All eyes turned to him.
“What?”
“Wednesday and Thursday I saw both their cars in the garage on my way in.”
“And you kept it to yourself?” Emily complained. The door to the conference room, turned BAU office opened admitting the other two members of the team.
“Thanks for the heads up, baby girl. We gotta go.” Morgan ended the call before she could give them away.
“What was that about?” Rossi asked, taking one of the seats.
“Just warning us about weather patterns,” Emily said at the same time as Morgan said, “She was telling us about another case to keep an eye on.” The two agents glared at one another.
“Smooth,” Rossi joked, “Can we get back to work now?“
-/-/-/-/-
The case didn’t end up being too horrible or difficult. They made it out without another killing and the unsub was caught without a firefight.
Emily picked up her phone, the ringtone distinctly Garcia.
“Hey, we’re almost-“
“Stall! I don’t want to see them fight!” Emily’s eyebrows knit and she frowned. JJ gave her a questioning look.
“Who?”
“The Hotchners! Just stall!” The call ended. Emily looked at the team, who were slowly getting out of the SUV, a few protesting groans since they all had to run through the streets of Cincinnati a little bit longer than they would have preferred. She huffed to herself and quickly unclipped an earring, dropping it between the seats.
“Shit!” The whole team turned to look.
“I dropped my earring.” Hotch looked exasperated, but he turned the car back on so they could turn the lights on and climbed in the back with Emily to hunt it down.
Upstairs the other SUV of the team was standing in the hallway talking to you.
"How was the case?" You were carrying a few things from Hotch's office, the blanket from the back of the couch and one of the photos of you and Jack that sat on his desk. Spencer was documenting the items in your hands and cataloguing them, JJ could tell based on how is eyes scanned over the items twice.
"Not bad. We were just talking about celebrating." You gave a tight smile and your eyes flickered to the elevator coming up from the garage.
"I'll talk to Hotch. I gotta go." You rushed for the stairs, the door closing just before the elevator doors opened to reveal the rest of the team.
"They seem like sturdy earrings," Morgan sighed, "but whatever." JJ and Spencer were staring at Hotch openly before Emily coughed.
"What?" Hotch asked, looking down at his suit.
"Nothing. We were just talking about celebrating today. We haven't all hung out for a while. Rossi, can you host?" The older agent rolled his eyes.
"You know you could at least ask me before asking in front of the whole team," he griped, "But yes. I can host. Make yourselves scarce. Drink some water. See you at seven." The agents scattered to their desks, but once Hotch and Rossi were in their offices, they stood with their heads together, occasionally glancing up at Hotch's office to see if he noticed the missing items.
Aaron walked into his office and immediately noticed the lack of blanket on the couch. Additionally a spot in the dust on his shelf and an absent little plastic dinosaur that sat next to the Captain America figurine on his desk gave away your recent presence. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the rest of the room before deciding everything else was in place. With a sigh, Aaron tossed his go bag by the door and removed some files from his briefcase before picking both bags up and heading for the door.
The agents in the bullpen were whispering and Aaron rolled his eyes at them. They were terrible profilers sometimes.
"See you soon," he called, hiding his smile when they all jumped apart.
"It must have been so bad! For them to be avoiding each other! And stealing stuff out of Hotch's office? That's crazy!" Emily hissed.
"We'll find out tonight." They knew you would never miss an evening at Rossi's. You two were always there first and left later than everyone else.
The younger agents nodded in agreement and dispersed, a continuous drone of concerned texts in their chat as they got dressed for the evening and stopped for snacks, wine, and beer.
Spencer, who was chronically punctual arrived first, the driveway conspicuously empty. He jabbed a message into the chat 'no one's here yet'. The responses of shock were followed by 'go inside and ask dave about it!' from Emily.
The front door was always unlocked when he knew they were over, given Dave's chronic laziness and the access to a firearm in basically every room in his massive house.
"Rossi! It's Spencer, don't kill me."
"We're in the kitchen," came Hotch's voice. Spencer peaked in and failed to hide his shock. You were sitting across Aaron's lap, red in the cheeks from alcohol. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and you were in a full body laugh. Aaron was laughing too, his headshaking, eyerolling one when you said something particularly silly. Dave was leaning on the other side of the counter, the grin on his face prominent.
"I can't believe you would betray me like that," Aaron chuckled, "It's my stuff."
"Nuh uh! We're married! It's my stuff too." Aaron's arms squeezed tighter around your middle, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You could feel his smile when he kissed you again and you felt like a teenager blushing. Dave pointed past you to the doorway.
"Don't you dare start texting, boy genius. Let the kids find out on their own." You and Aaron both turned to see Spencer put his hands up, phone slipped back into his sweater pocket.
"Take a seat, Doctor Reid. Have a drink," you joked. Dave poured him a glass of wine.
"So you just switched teams?" You looked at Aaron, who shrugged a little bit. No use lying.
"Kind of. We both realized there was no world in which Aaron could be impartial, no matter how hard either of us tried. And I got promoted." Watching Spencer's gears turn was always fun. You could almost see the puzzle pieces fall into place as they did in a split second.
"You're the new supervisor in the CT unit! That's why you stole your stuff from his office. They were for yours." You nodded.
"Precisely. And it's not stealing! It's mine!"
"It is absolutely stealing, you're a menace."
"Your menace," you corrected, booping him on the nose before reaching for your wine.
"We're here!" Penelope's voice echoed through the house, followed by the cacophony of Emily and Derek arguing. It was about you.
"Just come in here!" You complained. There was a thunder of footsteps running through the front hallway and the three other agents cartoonishly paused in the doorway staring.
"You know people are allowed to get new jobs right?" Aaron asked. He wasn't usually the joker in the group, but sometimes with just the right amount of alcohol his dry humor took over.
"Thank god! I thought I was going to have to start planning two parties!" Penelope gushed, running over to hug you. You laughed, sliding out of Aaron's lap. He was reluctant to let you go. He had been every time you were together, now that you didn't see each other constantly he missed you being beside him.
"Anyway, if we ever separated I would get the team," you stage whispered. Aaron pinched your thigh.
"Absolutely no you wouldn't."
"We will have to write up a contract for your work divorce," Spencer laughed.
"That's not fair! He used to be a lawyer," you whined. Aaron pulled you back into his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder where you stood in front of his stool.
"187 over here can help you." You bickered and laughed and explained yourself to the team once JJ and Will arrived.
"I can't believe you thought we broke up," you sighed once dinner was over and all of you had settled in the backyard under the summer stars.
"I can't either," Dave laughed, "They have no idea how much more of a mess you two would be."
"Hey!" Both of you interjected. The team laughed as you both looked at each other. Aaron pulled you ever closer, nuzzling his nose to your cheek. He was properly drunk now, which is why you both decided ubering over was a better idea so you didn't have to worry about a car.
"He's right," he muttered, his letters slurring together. You chuckled, wrapping your arms over his shoulder and squishing him to your chest.
"I know. I would be too."
1K notes · View notes
fastandcarlos · 3 months
Text
Missing Piece : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri
summary: you’re supposed to be used to oscar going anyway by now, but no matter how hard you try, it still hurts just as much
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“As soon as I land, I promise I’ll give you a call, make sure that you don’t have too much fun without me.”
Your head nodded as you buried it into the crook of Oscar’s neck, refusing to let him see you, scared of what would happen.
He smiles down at you, kissing against the top of your head.
Like you, he’s trying his best to hold it together, reassuring himself that it’s only a couple of weeks and that the two of you have spent longer apart before. You could still text, still call, but it was never quite the same. Oscar knew you masked a lot, you tried not to be bothered when it was time for him to go, but deep down he knew every time stung just a little bit more than the last.
A final kiss was pressed to the side of your head as Oscar unwrapped his arms from around you, taking a hold of his suitcase as your eyes fell to the ground.
Your voice was almost silent as you said goodbye to Oscar, unable to bring yourself to watch as he closed the door of your apartment. On the other side, he sighs, knowing that the silence is how it needs to be in order for you to survive.
Straight away the silence in your apartment makes you tense up, struggling to picture yourself getting back to life with Oscar by your side. Once you were sure his car had had enough time to drive away, you finally let yourself fall. First one tear fell, quickly followed by another, and then another, until you were laid out on your sofa relentless wiping underneath your eyes. The scent of Oscar’s jumper that you wore only made things worse, he was almost there with you, to comfort you, but not quite.
Several shaky breaths came from you as you looked around the place, little reminders of Oscar placed around the rooms as he had all but moved himself into your place.
The kitchen was still full of his favourite snacks, the music playing in the background was still his playlist that he had been so excited to show you, many items of his clothing were hung on your radiators, unable to dry them in the blistery winter breeze.
Each sight makes you weaker and weaker, makes your heart ache more, silently crying out for Oscar to return to you and end your nightmare.
Every time Oscar went away it was the same old story, you tried to convince yourself that this time would be the time when you’d crack on, prove to yourself that you didn’t need Oscar to survive, but each time you failed. Maybe you’d last a day or two at most, but then you’d encounter a job or a sign of him that would send you spiralling back to the beginning again.
You found yourself alone again, on the other side of the world to the true place that you called home.
Oscar hated himself for being the reason you left behind everything, as much as you tried to convince him that you loved Monaco, he knew you wanted more. Times like these, when he left you all alone, more than anything you wanted the comfort of your family with you to scoop you up and keep you going.
Whenever the two of you spoke about it you reassured Oscar that he was worth it, that you were willing to make the sacrifice in order to make your dreams together succeed. But a small part of you had also hoped that it would all get easier, and it was anything but.
Admittedly, you were lost without Oscar, he’d been gone two minutes and already you found yourself a crumpled mess in your living room, wondering if you were going to survive.
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
Meanwhile, driving down to the airport, Oscar isn’t sitting pretty either. He’s restless, going through his list in his head once again, sensing that something isn’t quite the way it’s meant to be. Beside him Lando watches him closely, wondering what’s got into him as Oscar frantically searches through his rucksack to find what he’s looking for.
“It’s got to be in here somewhere,” he whispers to himself, searching through every single pocket. “I knew I should’ve put it in a safer place,” he continued to scold, getting more and more stressed.
Lando kept his eyes on him, “what on earth has gotten into you? Surely it can’t be that important, whatever it is.”
Oscar shot a glare across at Lando.
It was more important than anyone could ever imagine, and he refused to go any further until he had it in his hands.
“What are you going to do?” Lando asked after Oscar asked for the driver to stop the car and let him think for a moment.
Oscar glanced back across at his friend, shrugging his shoulders at the fact that they were already running late for their flight.
“I’ve got no choice, I need to go home again.”
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
It had only been a few minutes, but already Oscar had missed you, already Oscar was excited to be reunited with you again. He sent his apologies to everyone before entering your apartment block, racing up the stairs.
He was bouncing on his heels, as if the two of you were going to see each other after weeks apart as he pulled out his key. He fumbled slightly as he placed the key into the lock, turning it sharply and bursting into the room.
Oscar shot into the room, glancing everywhere to catch a glimpse of you, only when he did, his heart sunk. The key dropped to the floor, expression shattering, words failing him. You were too wrapped up in yourself to even notice that Oscar had returned, your sobs being the only noise in the room.
Whilst silently, the guilt of it all ate away at Oscar.
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
“I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” you responded, smiling widely as Oscar told you about the fight that had happened during the McLaren team dinner that night, only wishing that you’d been there to see it.
“Luckily me and Lando managed to sneak out before we got caught in the crossfire,” he assured you, giggling away to himself. “It’s going to be so awkward at the team briefing tomorrow morning.”
As Oscar spoke, you were slightly thankful you weren’t there and a part of it.
It had been a couple of days since Oscar left, and after the scene that unfolded that he left, he promised to call you every free second of the day that he had, refusing to leave you alone with your own thoughts for too long.
“I bet things are a lot busier here than they are at home,” Oscar smirked, almost envious of the calm environment you found yourself in.
His eyes lit up, enough to bring a smile to your face too.
“Your mum has been ringing me nonstop, I don’t know what you’ve said to her.”
“Not a lot,” he chuckled, lying through his teeth, “I just mentioned things were a little bit tricky for you.”
“A little bit?” You challenged, raising your eyebrow at Oscar. “I think your mum thinks I’m on the verge of a breakdown, you know she’s forcing me to send her a photo every time I have something to eat.”
“Good,” Oscar responded, failing to see the problem with what you were saying. “No one’s there to check up on you love, at least if mum is keeping an eye on you then I know too that you’re taking good care of yourself.”
You gasped, hand over heart, offended that Oscar had taken his mum’s side rather than your own. He knew you were only messing as he mocked your reaction, stunned that you didn’t see how caring his mum was being.
“If it helps, would you like me to send you photos of my food too?” Oscar offered, continuing to tease you. “I know you love race day food.”
Your eyes narrowed at him, you didn’t just love race day food, it was your obsession. Secretly, it was the only reason you actually went and supported Oscar.
“I’ll block you,” you warned, “and then no one will be able to check up on me, I’ll just live in my own little bubble of peace and quiet in the apartment.”
Oscar’s head shook as he took a sip from the drink beside him, glancing on the clock at his bedside that was getting later and later. You knew that Oscar wasn’t brave enough to tell you what he was thinking, but you knew his expression well enough by now to know that he was starting to get sleepy and needed to rest for work tomorrow.
As he looked at the screen again, Oscar knew that you knew exactly what he was hinting at too.
“I’m sorry.”
Your head shook, refusing to listen to him. “Don’t be stupid, you’ve got work, it’s important that you’re ready for tomorrow.”
“I promise that I’ll speak to you in the morning,” Oscar insisted, shuffling around on the bed so that he was laid down, phone above his head. “I’ll keep you updated as much as I can with how tomorrow goes.”
He did a good job of keeping you in the loop, tried his best to share as many updates as he possibly could with you. It wasn’t always easy, and at times Oscar had to be very sneaky, but it would be worth it to get your reply and know just how proud of him you were.
“You’ll sleep soon too, won’t you?” Oscar quizzed, doing the math in his head to know that it wasn’t far off getting late for you either.
“I will now that I’ve spoken to you,” you hummed, happy to let Oscar go for the night, and happy to know that you’d been sleeping much more comfortably too.
“I love you, wish me luck for tomorrow.”
“You don’t need luck Oscar…I love you.”
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
He’s barely able to sit still as Oscar listens to yet another gate call, hoping this time it’s for him, but not quite. His frustration builds and builds, restlessly fidgeting whilst Lando sits beside him as if he’s got all the time in the world.
Knowing how close you were only hurt Oscar more now. He was desperate to be back where he belonged, back with his best friend and back in the place that he called home. He’d been away from the missing piece in his life for too long, and now he was ready to fix the jigsaw that was his life again.
The journey felt like an age, every slight stop tormented Oscar, knowing it was pushing the time of his arrival further and further back.
What hurt him the most though was the lies, the ignorance he had for you. When he landed and turned his phone back on he was met by dozens of calls and texts, most of them full of panic. He hated that he couldn’t tell you the truth, but his mum had assured him that she would try and keep you as calm as possible.
The car barely had time to stop when it pulled up outside your home, Oscar was out like a bullet, grabbing his belongings and racing up the stairs. Standing outside your door, he composed himself, taking a deep breath in and out before knocking on the door, hoping that you were home.
You weren’t expecting anyone, lazily moving across to the door. A sigh came from you as you took the latch off, pulling down on the handle and opening the door, slowly turning your eyes up.
Oscar’s smile was bright as your eyes met, a chuckle came from him, relieved to see you and see for himself that you were alright. It took you a moment to realise who was before you, but as soon as you did, you were stepping forwards, throwing yourself into Oscar’s arms and legs wrapping around his frame.
He barely had a moment to react, Oscar dropping his case and catching you just as quickly.
There were no words spoken for a while as you both let the reality set in. Your head was buried closely into the crook of Oscar’s neck, this time trying to compose yourself for a different reason. Your tears were no longer of sadness, but of overwhelming joy to have Oscar home.
“You’re not supposed to be here yet,” you laughed, pulling back and meeting Oscar’s eyes once again. “Y-you’re here early,” you commented, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose.
Oscar nodded proudly, “we were finished and I couldn’t wait any longer, I just wanted to get back and be with you again. I’ve missed you so much, it’s been so hard being away from you this time.”
The grip that you had on Oscar was bone-crushing, filled with happiness knowing that you weren’t going to be by yourself anymore. It didn’t matter anymore where you were in the world anymore, just the fact that Oscar was back with you again was enough to make everything alright.
“How come you changed your mind? How did you convince Zac to let you come home?” You quizzed, feeling Oscar carry you across and down onto the sofa.
“I had my ways,” Oscar proudly joked, “I’m kidding, we had everything sorted so I could fly earlier. Told him that I couldn’t wait to get home any longer to my missing piece and he sent me on my way.”
You’re missing piece?”
Oscar nodded in reply to you, “of course, the one thing that was missing to make me my happiest. I had work, I was in my race car, but you weren’t there, so everything wasn’t quite fulfilled.”
“That’s cute,” you whispered.
And Oscar meant every word of it too, it was no understatement how important you were to him, and knowing that you’d been having such a tricky time of things recently only left him feeling worse whenever he had to go away.
“Please tell me you don’t have to leave now, or any time soon,” you whispered to Oscar, terrified that your moment was going to be cut short and he was going to be pulled off into another direction to complete yet another task.
“I’m all yours, I promise, I don’t plan on going anywhere for a very long time my love.”
“Good,” you smirked, cupping either side of Oscar’s face and pressing a kiss to his lips. You’d experienced the hurt, the longing, the bitterness and jealousy, but at last you were able to experience the happiness again, the relief that Oscar was back with you and he was right there to be able to take care of you.
And luckily for you, it was a job that he absolutely adored too.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
919 notes · View notes
thelostconsultant · 1 month
Text
You got me worried
pairing: Max Verstappen x reader
summary: You get into a car accident when you're on the phone with Max, who immediately leaves to see you. Charles finds out what's wrong and offers to go with him. Those few days in the hospital change a few of his personal relationships.
warning: accident, serious injuries. (no death.)
note: My Lestappen heart wanted me to write this.
word count: almost 5.3k
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“You’re stalling,” you said on the other end of the line, and Max could tell you had that adorable smirk on your face that he loved so much.
But he wasn’t stalling, at least not intentionally. He wanted to answer your question, but he honestly didn’t know what to say, so he decided to take his time to figure out what to tell you. Your mother wasn’t very fond of him, she believed that you made a mistake by dating someone whose job was so dangerous, and she always had this bad feeling about him. When he asked you what it meant, you just shrugged as said not to look for logic in this. So he put his own bad feelings aside and played nice every time they were together somewhere. 
And now? Now you wanted to take her on a trip to New Zealand and asked him to tag along if he didn’t have anything else to do. Well, it was clearly a trap. One, he had no official obligations around New Year’s Eve which you knew perfectly well, and two, he wanted to enter the new year on your side, he wanted to kiss you at midnight, so he had no choice but to follow wherever you were heading. 
Letting out a sigh as he leaned back on his bed in the driver’s room, Max decided to yield, something he was only willing to do because of you. “Fine, I’ll go with you,” he told you, trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice. “But why don’t we invite a friend of hers? This way she would be entertained while we spend some time alone. Come on, you owe me this much.”
It was your turn to remain silent, but it only lasted for a few seconds. “I mean, she’s dating this guy now–”
“Someone’s willing to date her?” Shit, this sentence wasn’t meant to slip out. Clearing his throat, he pinched the bridge of his nose and went, “Sorry, I mean, she didn’t seem like she was ready to date just yet.”
“I get what you mean. I don’t know much about him, maybe this could be the perfect chance to get to know him a little better. And you’re right, he could keep her company while we’re having fun on our own,” you said with a laugh. 
Despite the idea being presented for the first time a few minutes ago, Max was already thinking about this trip as the perfect chance to put his plan into motion. Because he’d been planning to take your relationship to the next level, to start a family with you. And what would be better than a proposal in another country and maybe his not so secret attempt to get you pregnant? It would be great, he knew you would be happy. 
But before he could say anything, he heard scream and a loud noise, one that sounded eerily like cars crashing and glass breaking. “What happened?” There was no answer, and he couldn’t help but sit up with his heart ready to jump out of his ribcage. “Baby, please, say something,” he begged, but there was still no response. 
Then he heard people buzzing in the background, talking loudly, screaming for help, telling someone to call the emergency number. One person who was probably close to your car told someone you weren’t moving, but they also said they couldn’t tell if you were dead. Dead. He wanted to shout, he wanted to cry, he felt like throwing up, but somehow he managed to keep his cool. Panicking wouldn’t solve anything, he had to listen for now. But your car’s multimedia system gave in and ended the call, leaving him there with his fears and thoughts. 
Max tried to call you, but no one answered, so he quickly made a few calls to ensure his jet was available the moment he got to the airport. Because the race was over, he only had one or two interviews left, but he couldn’t care less about those. After throwing his things into his backpack, he hurriedly left his room and looked for the press officer to tell her he was leaving right now. She tried to ask him what was wrong, but he just shook his head and waved goodbye, his eyes fixed on the screen as he typed in the address where your phone was at this moment. 
He found a few posts about a crash there, and one of them had a photo as well. It was your car, he knew that right away, but the sight made his heart clench. The other car t-boned yours on the left side, right where you were sitting, which made him afraid there was no way you could survive that crash. But then he found a post about the drivers being taken to the hospital, so maybe it wasn’t so bad, maybe it was just looking bad. 
Suddenly he bumped into someone, which finally made him look up from the screen of his phone. “Sorry,” he said automatically. 
Charles gave him an unimpressed look, motioning towards his phone. “What’s so interesting?”
“An accident,” he replied, having no idea why he answered the question instead of just leaving him there. This caught the other driver’s interest, because he quickly said goodbye to the person he’d been talking to and moved to his side to look at the screen of the device. “That’s my girlfriend’s car on the right.”
“This looks bad. How is she?” he asked, sounding genuinely worried despite only meeting you once. 
Max gulped and shrugged. “I don’t know. I–I was on the phone with her, then I heard a loud crash and a scream. The call ended and no one’s picking up her phone. I don’t know what’s going on, so I’ll just pack my suitcases and head to the airport to get home as soon as possible,” he said without stopping to take a breath. 
Yes, he was panicking, he was losing his cool, but that was the least of his problems right now. All he could think about was the worst case scenario, the possibility of the doctor not being able to save your life. What would he do then? How could he move on from losing you? How could he live his life without hearing your scream all the time? It was all too much, especially after a frustrating race like the one today.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when Charles put a hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes with a serious expression on his face. “Okay, take a deep breath. Are you sure you can drive like this?” For the very first time, he actually considered what he was planning to do, and after a few seconds of thinking, he came to the conclusion that he was definitely not in the right state of mind to drive, so he shook his head. “All right,” the Monegasque began slowly, looking over his shoulder for a moment, “we’ll find someone who can take care of your car, then I’ll give you a ride to the airport. How does that sound?”
It was a long day, Charles had to fight his own battles during the race, mostly with his own team, but there he was, offering to chauffeur him around so he would stay safe. A small, thankful smile crept on his lips as he nodded eventually. Maybe this was for the best, the last thing he wanted was doing something stupid because he was distracted by his fears. 
“Okay. You should get someone to pick you up when you get to Monaco, you shouldn’t drive there either,” Charles told him as they headed back to the Red Bull motorhome.
A desperate laugh left him at this. “Well, she wasn’t there, she was visiting her family, so she’s in a country where the only ones I know are her relatives, and they’re in the hospital with her. But I’ll call a taxi, it’s not a problem,” he explained with a sigh. 
A thoughtful hum from Charles caught his attention as he looked over at him. “Well, in this case I’ll have to drive you around there too,” the other man declared with a kind smile. When Max opened his mouth to tell him it was unnecessary, he just raised his hand to stop him. “I don’t take no for an answer. She’s nice. Hell, it’s easy to tell she has a good influence on you. Now I want to make sure she’s okay too.”
Max could hardly wrap his head around why he offered to help. He surely had better things to do than traveling to a country other than his home, meeting strangers who were the closest to someone he only met once, and providing emotional support to someone he’d been battling with since they were kids. This was beyond him, but he was too afraid to ask for the reason. A little voice in the back of his mind said he was planning something, but then he looked into Charles’s bright eyes and realized he was just being nice. 
They were sitting in the car on the way to the airport when his phone began to ring, and the screen lit up with the name of your mother. Gulping, he swiped his finger and raised the device to his ear. “Hi, Laura, do you know anything about her? Ho–how is she?” he asked, eagerly waiting for the older woman’s reply. 
“I guess you know about the accident then. I���m at the hospital with her. She’s still in surgery and they said it will take a few more hours before they can take her to the ICU. Do you want to come here?”
Did she really ask him if he wanted to be there? After all that time they spent together, after everything they had gone through, she dared to ask him if he wanted to be by her side? Outrageous. “I’m already on my way to the airport, I just need to know which hospital she’s in,” he replied, forcing himself to stay relatively calm. He didn’t want a fight with her, not when they were both in a very fragile state of mind. 
The woman on the other end of the line remained silent for a few seconds, then he heard muffled voices, which was followed by the sound of her clearing her throat. “I’ll send you everything you need to know.”
“Thank you. And if you hear anything, call me. Please.”
“Of course. See you later, Max.”
Once the call ended, he glanced down at his phone and waited until it buzzed again, the notification of a new message showing up. He had a location, although funnily enough, it was sent by your cousin, not your mother. It was a smaller miracle that she called him herself, a part of him expected her to make someone else do this. But at least her dislike for him became obvious once again. 
Charles glanced over at him with a questioning look on his face. “How is she?” he asked, the tone of his voice making it clear that he was walking on eggshells around him.
Max leaned his head against the seat and looked out the window. “Still in surgery, and she will probably be in there for another few hours. Even though she's probably in good hands, I'm not… It's hard to stay positive,” he admitted with a gulp.
“Maybe it will take a while, but she's gonna get better. You need to believe this, otherwise you'll go insane,” the other driver tried, his voice quiet, but confident. 
He was trying to help, and he was right, but his mind was full of thoughts about the worst case scenarios. What if you end up in a coma you don't wake up from? What if there's serious brain damage? What if you can't live the same active life you used to? He knew you would be devastated, and it's not like he would leave you for that, he just didn't know how he could handle it emotionally.
So yeah, he was already going insane. 
“Why are you doing this?” Max asked, voicing the question that had been in the back of his mind for a while now. 
Charles responded with a questioning hum, and despite the pair of sunglasses he wore, it was easy to tell he was watching him with a raised eyebrow. “Why wouldn't I? Look, maybe we're not friends outside the track, but I can imagine how hard this situation must be for you. Just accept the help for once, okay?”
After taking a deep breath, Max nodded. “Thank you.” 
The Monegasque had a smirk on his face when he returned his attention to the road. According to the sat nav, the airport was only five minutes away, so Max unlocked his phone and saw a message from Lando that told him to check X’s trending topics. When he opened the app, he saw his name at the front, and the posts were about some anonymous source leaking information about you being in the hospital. 
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he scrolled through the flood of posts. 
“What?”
Looking over at him, Max let out an annoyed groan. “Her accident made it to social media. From what I’ve seen so far was based on a post from someone who either works at the hospital or is a first responder. And someone kept digging until they put the pieces together, so now there’s a photo of the car wreck circling around,” he explained. 
“It’s not that bad. Unless they’re celebrating. Please, tell me they’re not celebrating.”
Max shook his head. “No, it’s not that, but whoever wrote the original post made it clear her life is hanging on a thread. So people are now getting ready for the worst case scenario.”
“Her not surviving this?” Charles guessed as he glanced over at him. When there was a quiet nod in response, he gulped and looked back at the road. “She won’t die. Don’t even think about it. She’s young and strong, and I’m sure she’s a fighter. Okay, we’re here.”
For the first time in a while Max looked up and noticed they had indeed arrived. After getting their suitcases, they got on the jet and sat down to wait for the takeoff. During the flight Charles tried to avert his thoughts by talking about the race and bringing up old memories from their carting days, and Max realized that he had absolutely no idea how he would say thank you for his help. 
For years he assumed their long history of rivalry meant they could never be friends, and their conversations would be nothing but casual chats based on mutual respect. But now he was here, providing the kind of emotional support he so desperately needed. 
Two hours later they entered the hospital building through a big crowd of paparazzi, reporters and fans, trying to navigate through the maze to find where your family was waiting. It took some time, but eventually they found them. Your cousin was the only one who jumped up and ran over to him, her arms sneaking around his body to pull him into a hug as she cried. The poor girl was only sixteen, and despite the age difference you two were the closest, as if you were siblings. His eyes fell on your mother, but she was simply staring ahead with a neutral look in her eyes. 
Charles decided to sit down not far from them, sending a message to his girlfriend so she would know where he was, but Max knew he was paying attention. “Any news?” he asked Sophie, your cousin.
“Yeah, she’s in the ICU, just until they know she’s really stable. She has a badly broken leg, a few broken ribs, one even punctured her lung, and… Yeah, severe concussion, and I think there’s a fracture in her cheek.”
Max gulped as his fingers ran through his hair. “That’s a lot,” he noted, earning a nod. “But she’s relatively okay, right?”
“You can say that,” your mother suddenly spoke up, finally acknowledging him. 
For a few moments they were just staring at each other, and Max was beginning to think she would start blaming him for the accident. Even if she didn’t know about the call they were in at the time, she would sure as hell find a reason to put the blame on him. She always did, whenever you had a bad day, it was surely his fault, even when you weren’t even in the same country.
But to his surprise, that’s not what happened, because she suddenly walked over to him and pulled him into a tight hug. He didn’t even know what to do at first, his eyes were moving back and forth between Sophie and Charles, but they both shrugged to tell him they had no clue what he should do. So he wrapped his arms around her too, soon hearing her crying into his shoulder. 
“I’m glad you’re here, Max,” she said when she took a step back and looked up at him. “I had my doubts, but… Knowing you rushed here after finding out what happened means a lot to me.”
With a sad smile, he nodded. “Where else would I be? I–I don’t know if you knew, but I was on the phone with her when the accident happened. She told me about the trip to New Zealand you’re planning, she was trying to convince me to go with you, and… Would you mind if I tagged along?” he asked, as if he needed her permission. 
But maybe he did. Maybe this hug was the olive branch he’d been hoping to receive one day, the least he could do was make sure she was okay with the plan. And maybe him going with you wasn’t the only thing he should talk to her about, maybe he should mention the most obvious decision he had made during that call. When she said she wouldn’t mind if she joined them, Max took a deep breath, then cleared his throat. 
“There’s something else. I’m planning to propose on New Year’s Eve. A few hours ago I thought your opinion was irrelevant and it’s her decision, but… now I’d like to hear what you have to say. Would you be okay with it?” he asked hesitantly, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another.
Your mother’s lips curled into a smile all of a sudden, then he reached out to take his hand in hers. “I’m sure that would make her really happy. And if she’s happy, I’m happy. You know what? My idiotic ex-husband used our family heirloom, a beautiful engagement ring, to propose. How about giving that to her?”
“Are you sure?” She nodded without hesitation. “Thank you, that would be great.”
Since the doctor said they would tell them when they could go and see you, Max sat down next to Charles and waited there in silence. The other driver glanced up from his phone every now and then, but eventually he had enough of the silence and decided to pay full attention to him. 
“You okay?” 
He honestly didn’t know the answer to this simple question. You were alive, your mother gave him her blessing, what else would he need? Still, he couldn’t get himself to say yes. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. 
Charles nodded as he supportively patted his back. “I’m sure you’ll be better once you see her,” he noted with a small smile. “You heard her mother, the worst part is over, now all she needs is time to recover.”
And that was a problem he had to solve. He knew your mother would be more than happy to help you, he could hire a live-in nurse to take care of you, he could send you to the best rehabilitation facility in Europe, but nothing would make him feel good enough if he couldn’t be there by your side. Because he still had half a season left, he was expected to travel around the world, away from you, and the thought was killing him. 
“Without me,” he eventually said, so quietly that he hoped Charles didn’t catch it.
But he did, and he clearly understood what was bothering him. “I know it’s hard, but she will understand that you can’t be by her side all the time. Once the season’s over, she won’t get rid of you,” he said with a laugh, nudging his side with his elbow. “Come on, let’s get some coffee. We could all use it.”
Max nodded, and as Charles took the orders, he asked Sophie if she would like to come help them. He knew she was a traitor who supported his rival, but she was young and nice, so he chalked it up to teenage stupidity for now. While they waited for the coffees, Charles and Sophie got lost in a conversation that was conveniently in French “so she could practice.” They seemed to get along, and he was glad your cousin had a reason to smile for a while.
This is why he spent this time checking his phone and found a bunch of messages from friends and family, all telling him that they were there if he needed help. Knowing so many people cared about them warmed his heart. It was mostly you, he knew that, your charming personality had everyone wrapped around your finger. This gave him the idea to send a message to his mother and sister, telling them he would propose the moment you were feeling well enough to make a decision. 
A few hours later Charles said goodbye and promised to be back the next day, and soon your family left as well. Your mother wanted to stay, but Max promised to call her if there was anything to know. So he slept on the couch in the waiting room, ignoring the weird look some people gave him the whole evening. A nurse was nice enough to bring him a pillow that made it a bit more bearable, but he wished you could be transferred to a regular room where he could ask for a bed to sleep in next to you. 
In the morning a doctor gently squeezed his shoulder to wake him up, and he groggily rubbed his eyes as he sat up. “Morning, Doctor,” he said, trying hard to fight back a yawn. “Did something happen?”
The man sat down next to him and turned to him with a small smile. “She’s ready to be taken to a normal hospital room. You mentioned to our staff yesterday that you want her to be placed in the VIP section, preferably with an extra bed for you, so we took care of everything. I can walk you there if you’d like,” he offered. 
“Sure, sure, thank you. How is she?”
“A little better. She’s strong, she’s breathing on her own, so I’m confident she’ll pull through. Just be patient,” the doctor replied. 
Once he was in the new room you were being taken to, he sent a text to everyone about your new location, then impatiently waited for your bed to be wheeled in. His foot was tapping fast on the linoleum floor, not stopping until the door opened and a young man stood there with a shocked look on his face. Max raised his hand to say hi, to which the poor man only reacted by going out to continue his work to get you inside. 
A nurse walked in behind him with a kind smile on her lips, then moved her attention back to you as she got you settled in the room. He wanted to go there and take your hand, but he knew he had to wait. He would have time, there was no need to rush, they had to do their job first. You were hooked on machines, your body bandaged all over, and the sight brought tears to his eyes. If he didn’t know you were through the worst part, he would assume you were still between life and death. 
Soon everybody left and he sat on a chair next to your bed, gently taking your hand in his. He had no idea if you could hear him, but he talked to you nonetheless, telling you about him making peace with your mother, about Charles being here with him, about your whole family being here, and about how much he loved you. He even begged you to wake up, to come back to him. 
“Good morning,” came Charles’ voice about an hour later as he walked inside with two cups of coffee, from which he handed one over. “Here, I guess you could use it.”
With a thankful smile, Max took it, then leaned back in the chair and watched as the other man looked down at you with a sigh. “The doctor said she’ll pull through, she just needs to rest,” he told him.
The fellow driver looked up with a smile. “See? I told you.” He sat down on the edge of the other bed and took a sip of his coffee. “Your suitcase is in the back of the car. I didn’t know which hotel you wanted to stay in,” he added.
“Neither. I’m staying with her,” Max was quick to clarify. 
“Yeah, but you need to take a shower, you need to sleep.”
“There’s a bathroom and you’re sitting on my bed. I’ll be fine.”
Charles followed his gaze and let out a tired groan. “She wouldn’t mind if you left for a few hours. Look, why don’t you talk to her mother to take shifts by her side? I’m sure she would understand that you need proper sleep,” he explained, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. 
Silence followed his words, mostly because Max didn’t feel like arguing about this. He was here to stay, by your side, right until he had no choice but to leave for the next race. “If it was Alex, would you leave her side?” he eventually asked. 
“No,” came the response right away. “I probably wouldn’t.” After sipping their drinks in silence, the Monegasque stood up at one point and threw his now empty cup into the trash can, and turned to him. “Okay, I’ll go get your suitcase so you can freshen up before her family arrives. And Laura is bringing us breakfast, so you’d better look presentable by the time she gets here.”
“Laura? Since when are you on first name terms with her?”
The other man laughed and shrugged. “Since I took the time to have a chat with her yesterday. All right, let’s get you cleaned up.”
For the next few days, this is how things went. Charles was always the first to arrive, then he left to get lunch, and stayed until four or five in the afternoon. Max had told him to go home, that he would be fine now, but he didn’t care about this. He said he wanted to be there, at least until you finally woke up so he could tell you that almost dying just to get an emotional reaction out of your boyfriend was an overkill. And maybe he mentioned one day that Alex would stop talking to him for a few days if he left him alone, so he decided to be a good boy. 
One night he was woken by a strange sound coming from you, as if you were trying to speak up. Ever since you were brought in, he became a light sleeper, so he immediately picked up on the change in the atmosphere of the room. He turned on the light above his bed and moved over to you, his hand falling on your face right away, thumb gently brushing your cheek.
“Hey, baby,” he said as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’m here. What do you need?”
Your eyes turned to him, immediately locking with his blue ones, as you registered that it was truly him. Your fingers squeezed his hand, the feeling of you being awake making him smile. “Can I… get some… water?” you asked hoarsely. 
He immediately reached out for the glass and filled it from the bottle next to it. He helped to put the end of the straw in your mouth and held the glass for you. “I’m so glad you’re finally awake. You almost got me worried,” he explained. 
“How long…?”
“Five days. How are you? Does anything hurt? Should I get a doctor? I should get a doctor, right? Yeah, you just–” 
He only stopped talking because you gave him a tired look and laced your fingers with his. “Max, relax... It’s fine,” you said weakly. “I need a minute… before you call them.”
You didn’t want to talk, you just wanted to be there with him, holding hands while your brain caught up. But eventually he apologized and left to find a nurse, because he was too afraid that something would go wrong if he waited too long. He needed confirmation that you were okay, that it was safe to let you talk, to touch you, to kiss you. He wanted to know when and what you could eat, when he could bring you your favorite coffee. His brain was in overdrive, but he didn’t mind. 
Not when he finally had you back. 
The next morning he was sitting by your side, having a conversation with you about something trivial. Speaking went well now, the soreness in your throat quickly faded with practice. Sure, you still weren’t a hundred percent, but it was much better than what he heard in the middle of the night. He told you what happened, he told you everything he had mentioned while you were unconscious, and your conversation went so well that he didn’t even notice Charles coming in. 
“You’re awake!” the Monegasque said with a bright smile as he handed the usual cup to Max. “How are you feeling?”
You returned his smile, but when you tried to take a deep breath, you couldn’t help but wince. “My ribs hurt like hell when I breathe or talk too much,” you replied. “Thank you for staying with him.”
Charles looked over at Max, then his eyes returned to you. “I’m staying by his side because I don’t want my girlfriend to kick me out.”
After all those days it was hard to tell if he was serious, or if he was just saying this to hide the fact their relationship did change lately. Max surprised himself, because he wanted to believe it was the latter. His gaze returned to you, choosing to stay out of your conversation for now. 
“Still,” you began, but fell silent when you looked over at your boyfriend. “Why can’t you be like Charles?” He gave you a confused look, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed the other driver’s evergrowing smile. “He gets proper sleep. He shaves. He doesn’t live in a hospital room,” you added with a stern look. 
Shaking his head, Max placed a kiss on your temple. “I’m not leaving you. Don’t even think about it.”
“But she’s right,” Charles told him with a shit-eating grin. 
“Go to hell,” Max told him with a roll of his eyes.
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Text
ring camera chronicles - Nico Hischier
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Word Count - 1700
Requested - Yes
Author's Note - Even if someone requests it I think this will be my last ring camera type fic. I am someone who hates reusing ideas for different players, and it was really hard to come up with 7 original ideas for Nico. But anyway enjoy and thank you for reading.
Warnings - none
Summary - Seven times that Nico's and your ring camera caught cute 'mundane' moments between you both.
Masterlist
Being Nico’s girlfriend naturally meant that you sort of organized lunches with the other wags and tried to keep up to date with them. At first you hated it because you weren’t an influencer, you had a normal job and being a planner wasn’t part of the job. But after a while you did become close friends with a few of the girls including Jack’s girlfriend. Who was now sitting across from you as she updated all of you on her latest mess with having a ring camera. All about how she didn’t want Jack to catch her having all these packages so you went to sneak them in, and got Nico and Luke to help her. Only to find out in the moment that she actually used Jack’s card and he really didn’t seem to care. The entire table was crying in laughter, especially when you mentioned that Nico was still a little salty about it 2 weeks later. Luke’s girlfriend went on to say how much she loves having her ring and how it catches so many cute mundane moments that people tend to forget about, plus it was fun to mess with her boyfriend. Deciding in that moment that you also wanted a ring doorbell to be able to mess with Nico, all you had to do was convince Nico. 
Once you got home you shyly mentioned to Nico, “ hey Neeks I was thinking why don’t we get a ring camera?” He doesn’t even look up from playing with your puppy and says “okay.” 
“Wait really?” The shock is clear in your voice. 
Still playing tug-a-war with the rope toy and currently losing, he answers “ yeah if you want plus it makes sense I mean I have one at home for our other flat it makes sense to have one for here. Especially since we are out of the country for 3 months a year.” 
“Wait, there is a camera for your place in Swittsland?” Generally shocked that you somehow didn’t know this information. 
“Yes. Did you think I didn’t have cameras if I only lived there 3 months a year? Anyway I’ll order some tomorrow.” As he gets up, and kisses you on the head before he goes to the bedroom to get ready for the gym, leaving a hyper puppy who wants to play and a shocked girlfriend behind. 
1.) One last thing
It’s something neither you nor Nico even realized that you did. But when it came to those roadies that he would leave the apartment for, rather than you drive him to the airport. Somehow whether it was 5 in the morning or 5 in the afternoon, you always would run out the apartment and almost tackle him for one last hug before he would leave. Snuggling your head into his chest. He would snuggle into the crown of your neck and you would whisper something about having safe travels and good luck. It didn’t matter if the roadie was for a weekend or two weeks you always ran out of the apartment calling after Nico saying “one last thing” before you tackled him for your hug. Once you got a ring camera you noticed and you asked your videographer friend to edit all the clips together so you and Nico could keep it and watch it back.
2.) I”ll always got you
“Baby, are you sure you wanna wear those shoes?” Nico asks as you both get ready to leave to meet the rest of the team and their significant others done the street at the local bar. 
“Yeah, why aren’t they cute?” as you check your outfit one last time doing a twirl in the mirror that’s in your little makeshift foyer of your apartment. 
“I’m not saying your new shoes aren’t cute, they just aren’t broken in and I don’t want your feet to hurt later.” He admits coming and wrapping his arms around you. 
“But their sneakers.” you whine. 
“Yes sneakers meant for fashion” he argues. 
“Says the man who wears Jordans when he goes hiking.” To which he gives you a knowing look and you don’t want to get into the fact he’s “built differently as a European.” Even if it’s 100 percent true because that evaluation ain’t meant for the weak even in the cities. 
“I’ll be fine.” you whisper as you both exit the apartment. He jokingly looks at the ring camera and says “you got that right she will be fine.” 
Now a few hours later, the ring camera picks up you guys coming home and you were in fact being carried by Nico at this point. A very sweaty and out of breath Nico. In your tipsy state all you could do is laugh as you attempted to unlock the door, at Nico literally hands on knees trying to catch his breath. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be a professional athletic Neeks.” 
“Professional athlete does not mean I should carry a very tipsy girl who wouldn’t stop shifting her weight almost a whole kilometer home and not be out of breath.” he counters and all you can do is chuckle finally getting the door unlocked. Nico looks directly at the camera and says “I just wanna state for the people, that she was in fact NOT FINE with those shoes.” 
“Neeks what people only we have access to the footage.” you giggle.
He rolls his eyes and although you’re not sure what he said you know he cursed at you in Swiss German under his breath as you both stumbled into your apartment.
3.) Baby it’s here!
Nico came up from the mailroom with a giant package in his hands. He's so excited he rings the doorbell even though he knows your at work because the care package finally arrived. 
“BABY IT’S HERE!” not caring how loud he sounded to his neighbors. “Ooo I am so excited I know she set some of my favorite Swiss chocolate and other candy too.” Nico had the biggest smile on his face, you swear when you watched it back on your break he looked more excited then a toddler waking up on Christmas morning to see what Santa left him. 
Deciding to text him to tell him not to eat too much before dinner even though you know there is really no point because, when it came to candy from home and Nico he will always eat as much as his sister is willing to send in one sitting
4.) Are you alright?
Nico gets a notification while he is away on a roadie for “movement in front of camera.” Since he was already dressed and ready for practice he decided to check the notification. He noticed it was you coming home at an earlier time than normal and you didn’t look good. Immediately he’s Facetiming you in the locker room, making sure you have everything you need and even doing a Doordash CVS order to your apartment with a bunch of different flavors of gatorade and Mucinex. Nico has his full pout because he is very worried about his girlfriend who is getting sick and the fact that he is 2000 miles away. 
5.) You didn’t see that
 After being exhausted after a long day of work and running a bunch of errands. The last thing you wanted to do was make multiple trips down the elevator to the parking garage to get all the groceries, your work bag, your lunch box and purse. Of course as soon as you pass the mailroom you see that you received a few Amazon packages. Again deciding one trip was better than multiple you somehow balance the boxes and make your way to the elevator. But of course as soon as you get to the front door as you're trying to reach for your keys to unlock the door everything tumbles. Without even thinking you deadpan to the camera   “ you didn’t see that.” But then you wince because of course you hear Nico’s loud laugh through the ring microphone. Of course in that exact moment he decided to check to make sure you got home okay since he knows you have anxiety driving at night when the roads are icy. 
6.) Shhhh will you some people are sleeping!
After coming home around 2 AM due to a delayed plane because of bad weather he finally comes home from his weekend roadie. Of course the ring camera starts to record as soon as it detects motion, recording how slow Nico is being trying to sneak into the apartment. But of course he somehow forgot about your 10 month Bernese Mountain puppy who starts barking at the top of his lungs. Running to attack Nico because he was so happy that “dad was home.” Of course the camera caught everything including Nico cursing in German for his failed attempts. But then he’s picking up your very big puppy trying to get him to quiet down because “hey don’t you know its 2 AM, your mama trying to sleep bubs.” . The next morning when you see a new notification on your phone from ring and you see Nico trying his hardest to be quiet you can’t help but chuckle and your chest swell a little at how sweet Nico was trying to be and how adorable he always is with your guys puppy. 
7.) Give me my puppy update
Everyday when he’s away on a roadie he demands to see an update on how much your little 20 lb Bernese Mountain puppy has grown on his way back in from his morning walk. He loves it when he’s actually able to catch the update in real time and talking through the camera catching how confused and excited the little puppy is because he hears dad’s voice but doesn’t see him. After a while attempting to pick up the very big puppy becomes such a struggle. It becomes Nico’s favorite part of his day watching you try to pick up the little rascal because he really only likes it when Nico picks him up. He loves hearing you complain to the dog that you are picking him up to show him to Nico. But every single time all the puppy does is schrick in refusal and you huff finally giving up. After 3 days in a row when your dog was around 10 months of that same pattern you told Nico that he’s going to have to settle on videos because fighting this dog to participate everyday in your daily vlogs was taking longer than it actually was to stand in front of the doorbell.
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