#are there changes I’d like to see for next season?

[blaysreid]

You asked for a request and you shall receive

Fluff, fluffiest fluff I can have. Although I. Eed some order feelings in there si whatever else you want, angst, hurt/comfort, arguing as ling as it ends on a good note 🙏

Im think early to mid seasons spencer reid? Reader preferably another agent (not necessarily BAU if you want a change :) )

I might come back and if I do you can recognise me by 💿 :)

(May have gone overboard but oh well yolo unless you're one of em shifters) (I'm giggling)

A/N = this wasn't supposed to end up so long! But I hope it matches up to your expectations anyway. Lots of fluff and a super heated argument with spencer left appreciating and loving reader through apologies, sweet touches and words. THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST ANON!!

pairing = midseason!frustrated!spencer + forgiving!frustratedbau!reader

summary = After a messy argument, Spencer and Reader find comfort the next morning over pancakes and quiet affection. With Reader in his lap, they feed each other between kisses, gently unpacking their hurt and offering forgiveness in soft, unspoken ways. It’s tender, sticky, and full of love. A slow return to each other, one bite at a time.

The police station was too hot.

Not just temperature wise but emotionally, everything felt like it was about to crack open. You could feel it in the way Morgan nearly snapped his pen in half earlier, in the way Emily was pinching the bridge of her nose, in how JJ had barely said a word since morning. And especially in the way Spencer Reid was currently standing across from you, arms folded, jaw clenched, and refusing to look up from his goddamn notebook.

You weren’t even sure what started it. It had been a long three days. A kidnapped child. Barely any sleep. Constant movement between press conferences, house to house interviews, a suspect list that only seemed to grow. And now the corkboard. Red string. Timelines. Locations. Your own handwriting shaking with exhaustion.

You pointed at the board with one hand and gripped your coffee in the other. “The route makes sense. The second and fourth victims were last seen within a block of Route 19. He’s following the bus path, or something close to it. I think he’s watching them get on, or off. It’s too specific to ignore.”

Spencer didn’t even look up. “The second and fourth, maybe. But the first and third lived well outside that zone. You’re seeing a pattern that isn’t consistent across all four.”

You stared at him, waiting. Hoping he’d soften it, or at least look at you.

He didn’t. Just turned a page and jotted something down.

That’s when the heat started to rise in your chest. The kind that burned slow, creeping from the inside out.

“You’re not even listening.” you said tightly.

“I am.” he replied, still without glancing up. “You’re presenting a theory that doesn’t line up with all the geographical data. If I thought it had weight, I’d say so.”

That’s when it happened. The crack.

You dropped your coffee onto the desk with a louder thud than intended. “God, Spencer. Not everything’s about data. Maybe try thinking about the actual victims for once instead of the stupid spreadsheet in your head.”

That made him look up. And god, the look he gave you.

Cold. Sharp. Analytical.

He blinked once. “You’re letting your emotions get in the way. Again.”

Your breath caught. Not from surprise but from how much it hurt.

You took a slow step forward, heart in your throat. “Don’t say that to me.”

He didn’t back down. That was the worst part. “I’m just trying to solve this case the right way. If we start throwing out logic every time it gets hard-”

“You think I’m being illogical because I care?” you snapped. “Because I don’t have your perfect, clinical detachment?”

Spencer flinched. Just slightly.

But you were already spiraling. “You act like emotions make someone less capable. Maybe if you actually let yourself feel something once in a while, you’d understand that gut instinct matters just as much as your numbers.”

He was silent. For a beat too long. Until he spoke up, coming out harsher and deeper than he intended to.

“I never said you were less capable,” he muttered. “Just… inconsistent.”

That did it.

You blinked hard, backing up as though the words physically hit you. “Wow,” you whispered. “Okay. You know what? I’m done.”

“Wait-”

“No,” you said, already turning away. “Finish your report, Reid. You don’t need me for this part.”

You didn’t hear what he said after that.

You didn’t want to.

When you were all settled in your seat the jet was too quiet.

Too many empty seats. Too much space between you and him. It was a small plane, but tonight it felt like a cold, hollow auditorium with only the sound of the engines to fill the silence.

You were seated near the back, pressed against the window as if you could escape through it. Arms crossed, headphones in, but no music playing. You didn’t want to hear anything. You just wanted to make it through the flight without crying.

Spencer had walked on a few minutes after you, his messenger bag slung tight to his side. He hesitated at the top of the stairs when he saw where you were sitting.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye. Saw the flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could sit beside you. Or near you.

But then your eyes met. For one sharp second.

And you looked away.

When he took the seat across the aisle instead. Not too close, not too far, but it still felt like a mile.

Hotch didn’t come. He stayed behind to debrief with the local PD. Morgan, JJ, and Emily had all flown back early. But since you and Spencer were at the crime scene, it took a few hours longer to finish up.

NowIt was just the two of you and the pilot, and neither of you said a word for the first hour.

You could feel it though. Spencer kept shifting. Restless. Like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the thread to pull.

He didn’t know how to start.

So he didn’t.

You tried to focus on your file, but the words blurred. The same way his face did when you let yourself glance over at him. Face pale under the cabin lights, brow furrowed like he was doing calculus in his head. He hadn’t written anything for the past thirty minutes.

He was thinking.

And you hated that you still cared.

Eventually, you stood up to stretch your legs, walking past him without a glance. You felt his eyes follow you. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking back.

But the silence was so heavy it made your chest ache.

When you sat back down, you gave in. Just for a moment. You looked at him and to your surprise, he was already looking at you.

And God, he looked like hell.

Not angry. Not cold. Just… haunted.

Like he’d been replaying every word over and over, and hated every single one.

He didn’t say anything. He just dropped his eyes and picked at the seam of his seat cushion like a nervous habit. It should’ve made it easier to stay angry.

But it didn’t.

Because no one looked that guilty if they didn’t mean it.

When the plane landed, the tension didn’t ease. It followed you both down the stairs, through the car ride back to Quantico, and up the elevator.

By the time you stepped into the BAU bullpen, it was completely empty. Everyone had already gone home.

You grabbed your go-bag and turned toward the exit.

But his voice, soft and shaky, cut through the stillness.

“…Wait.”

You froze.

His shoes tapped lightly across the floor. He didn’t rush. Didn’t demand. Just moved slowly and gently like he was afraid you’d vanish if he came too close.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

You didn’t turn around. Your eyes burned, and your voice was sharp when it came. “Which part?”

He exhaled hard, hands in his pockets. “All of it.”

You finally turned. And when he saw your face, exhausted, red-rimmed, tired of fighting and just then, his expression shattered completely.

“I didn’t mean you’re inconsistent. I-" His throat worked. “I was frustrated. With the case. And with myself. And you were right. You usually are, actually. And I-I took it out on you.”

You stared at him.

“I’m not good at people,” he continued, quieter now. “But that doesn’t excuse it. You didn’t deserve that. I know I hurt you.”

Your lip trembled.

He took a careful step closer. “Please don’t shut me out.”

Something in your chest cracked.

You blinked, and the tears finally slipped. “You made me feel small.”

“I know,” he said quickly, voice breaking. “And I hate myself for it.”

You swallowed. Looked down at your shoes. Then back at him. “I was just trying to help.”

“I know baby.” he whispered. “I know. And I pushed you away.” His heart swelled at your vulnerability. Seeing you so upset and still hearing him out made him appreciate you more than ever.

You nodded slowly. “You did.”

He took one more step, then stopped close enough for you to feel the warmth from his coat. “Can I… can I fix it?”

You hesitated. Then reached out, fingers brushing against his. He latched onto it like a lifeline. Held it so gently you could’ve cried all over again.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” you whispered.

“I don’t either.”

You looked up at him.

“You owe me a smoothie.”

His breath caught a short, stunned laugh and you could see the tear caught in his lashes.

“I’ll buy you three,” he promised.

You squeezed his hand.

And left the BAU together.

Hand in hand.

Heading for the nearest 24-hour smoothie shop like it was the only thing keeping the world from falling apart.

After being tangled up in bed together for the rest of the night,soft whispers and gentle touches, morning came softly.

No alarms, no rush. Just the pale gold of sunrise filtering through the thin curtains, dust motes dancing in the air like the world had decided to move in slow motion.

You were warm.

Not from the blanket which had mostly slipped to the floor but from the man curled tightly around you. Spencer had somehow managed to wrap himself around every limb you owned. His legs were tangled with yours, his hand under your shirt but resting respectfully just above your waist, and his face… God, his face was nuzzled into the back of your neck like he belonged there.

You could feel his breath, warm and rhythmic. One of his curls had fallen into your ear.

You blinked slowly, adjusting to the quiet light. It was too early to be up but your body always knew when the sun rose. You shifted gently, stretching your legs.

He groaned.

A soft, pathetic little sound, like moving away from you physically pained him.

You bit back a laugh. “Spence…”

“Mm?” His voice was rough with sleep.

“I have to get up.”

“No,” he said immediately, tightening his arms around you like a sleepy octopus. “Stay.”

You huffed a gentle laugh. “Spencer.”

“Just five more minutes.”

“You said that fifteen minutes ago.”

He didn’t answer and instead just buried his face deeper into your neck with an exaggerated sigh that tickled your skin. “You’re warm. You smell good. The sun is out. The world can wait.”

You tried to turn, but he held you tighter.

“Okay, philosopher,” you teased. “You get five minutes. No more.”

“Ten,” he bargained.

“Spencer.”

“Okay, okay.” He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Five. But I get to hold you like this all day.”

You smiled, your cheeks heating. You reached back to comb your fingers through his curls. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You felt him relax behind you. His breath slowed again. A little hum of contentment vibrated against your spine.

“You make it easy to feel okay again,” he mumbled sleepily.

You closed your eyes.

“So do you.” You comb your fingers through his messy hair, feeling him relax more and more within every second.

A scratched up pan, two mismatched mugs (one with Einstein’s face, the other with faded snoopy with flowers), and a fridge that hummed like it was overworked. But it was yours. It was quiet. And it was full of something soft and healing this morning.

Spencer stood at the stove in one of your hoodies, sleeves a little too short, hair still sleep-fluffy from earlier. He looked painfully domestic and painfully unaware that he was currently flipping a pancake with all the focus of someone defusing a bomb.

You leaned on the counter behind him, sipping coffee from your cherry blossom mug, trying not to smile too wide.

“I’m just saying,” he said suddenly, “the first pancake is always a disaster. That’s not failure, it’s science.”

You raised a brow. “You’re blaming physics for your burnt pancake?”

He turned to you with the spatula still in hand. “Well yes. The pan is still regulating temperature. Uneven surface heat leads to inconsistent Maillard reactions. It’s not my fault, it’s thermodynamics.”

You took another sip. “That sounds like something someone who just made a hockey puck would say.”

He looked mildly offended. “That pancake was brave. I'm proud of him.”

You laughed, a proper one, the kind that stretched through your chest like sunlight. God, you’d missed this after the past few days.

He turned back to the stove, mumbling something about “justice for pancake pioneers” while pouring more batter. You moved closer, setting your mug down on the counter and wrapping your arms around his middle from behind.

He stilled for half a second.

Then he melted into it, let out a breath like he’d been waiting to exhale all morning.

“You’re clingy,” he mumbled.

“You like it.”

“I love it.” He leaned his head back against your shoulder. “I really do.”

You pressed a kiss to his jaw, letting the quiet fill in the spaces between the moments.

He flipped the second pancake. Perfect golden brown.

“See?” he said proudly. “Told you.” A smug little smirk on his face appearing.

You peeked over his shoulder. “A scientific masterpiece.”

“Mmhm. Want the first one?”

You made a face. “Not if I want to live.”

He laughed softly. “We’ll bury it in syrup. You’ll never know.”

You didn’t even bother with plates. Just grabbed forks and ate side by side at the counter, knees bumping, syrup dripping on your fingers.

At some point, he turned to you, a bit of whipped cream on his nose.

“I was scared yesterday,” he said suddenly. “That I’d ruined it.”

You paused.

“Yeah?” you said softly.

He nodded. “I’m not used to someone staying after I mess up.”

You wiped the cream off his nose with your thumb, then leaned forward to kiss the spot you’d cleaned. “Good thing I’m not just someone.”

He looked at you like you were a miracle.

“You really aren’t.” He smiled at you, hand snaking around your waist, continuing feeding you.

At first you didn’t mean to end up in his lap.

It just sort of happened somewhere between the last stack of pancakes and the halfway point of your second coffee. Spencer had finished chewing a bite, looked at you like his brain had suddenly short circuited, and pulled you onto him with absolutely zero grace.

“You were too far away,” he mumbled like it explained everything.

Now your legs were straddling his thighs, knees bracketing either side of his hips, one of his hands resting at the small of your back while the other gripped a fork sticky with syrup.

His chair turned sideways next to the table so you can access his burnt pancakes.

“I’m literally right here,” you teased, stealing a strawberry from the side of his plate.

“Now you’re closer,” he said, deadpan but his eyes were warm, drifting lazily over your face like he still couldn’t believe you were here, touching him, his.

You reached for the next forkful he offered, leaned in to take it from his hand but not before quickly leaning up to his face, placing a soft, quick kiss on his lips.

He sucked in a breath through his nose. “That’s not fair.”

You grinned. “I’m not trying to be fair. I’m trying to ruin you.”

“You already have,” he muttered, not quite under his breath.

Your smile softened. “Spence…”

He looked down, fork paused between you. “I said a lot of things yesterday I didn’t mean.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to be like that with you,” he added, voice quieter now. “I don’t ever want to talk to you like you’re… an opponent. You’re not. And I never should've said those hurtful things to you.”

You tilted your head, let your fingers rest lightly on his jaw. “I’m not going to pretend we’ll never argue again. But I do know you. And I know you didn’t mean it.”

He looked up at you then, really looked. “You always say the right thing.”

“I don’t.” You leaned your forehead against his. “But I mean everything I say to you.”

He offered you another bite, and you took it without looking away from him. Something about sharing food like this. Knees touching, eyes locked, sugar on your lips — made the air feel thick with softness.

You scooped some whipped cream onto your finger and gently tapped it onto the tip of his nose.

He blinked.

You grinned.

Then leaned in and kissed it off.

“You’re trying to kill me,” he whispered.

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “Just giving you a reason to stay alive.”

He held you tighter, his free hand running slowly up your back like he needed the reassurance of your bones. “I would’ve fallen apart last night if you didn’t let me come home with you.”

You kissed him again, slower this time. Letting his lips linger on yours for longer than a few seconds. "Then it’s a good thing I love you too much to let you fall apart alone.”

The fork clattered quietly onto the plate as he pulled you in fully, pressing his lips to yours in a way that said everything he was too scared to speak aloud. It wasn’t urgent. It was honest.

You fed each other in between kisses, alternating between giggles and deep, slow silences, syrup drying sticky between your fingers where they threaded into his hair. He looked at you like you were something rare. And you held him like he’d never been held right before.

Pancakes never tasted so sweet.

And neither did forgiveness.

[meiplays]

“Twice the Trouble”

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Future!Dean (no inc*st – same person, different timeline)

Setting: Season 5, Episode 4 “The End” alternate 2014 future

Tone: Spicy SFW, jealousy, heavy tension, flirting, low growls, conflicted desire

Word Count: ~1,200

The room spun around you in a blink—one minute you were hunting with Dean and Cas, the next, you were stepping into what looked like a warzone.

“Y/N?” Dean said beside you, his jaw clenched. “Something’s wrong.”

Wrong was putting it lightly. Everything was... older. Bleaker. Like someone had drained the color out of the world.

That’s when you heard it—your name, again. But not from the Dean at your side.

From another one.

You turned, heartbeat stumbling as another Dean strode into view—older, battle-worn, wearing a ragged jacket and a grim smirk that barely reached his eyes. His hair was a little longer. His shoulders broader. There were scars—too many. And his voice?

Rougher. Lower. Tired and edged like a knife.

“...Well damn,” Future Dean drawled, eyes dragging slowly over your frame. “You brought her back with you? Ballsy.”

Your Dean tensed beside you, his arm sliding slightly in front of you, protective. “Don’t start.”

You couldn’t help it. Your eyes kept flicking between the two of them—the younger Dean you knew like the back of your hand, and the gruff, dangerously charming version of him that looked like he’d seen hell and come out swinging.

“Stop staring,” Dean muttered out of the corner of his mouth, glaring at his future self. “He’s not me.”

Future Dean snorted, crossing his arms. “Not yet.”

You swallowed. “So this is the future?” you asked, half to distract yourself from the intensity of the double Dean situation and the way both of them were eyeing each other like wolves.

“Yeah,” Future Dean said. His voice was velvet and whiskey. “And apparently I’m still into trouble.” His gaze slid down to you. “Didn’t expect to see you again. Thought I lost you a long time ago.”

Dean beside you stiffened. “She’s with me. You lost nothing.”

“Mmm.” The older Dean tilted his head. “She looks like she remembers exactly how I taste, though.”

“Dean!” you hissed, face heating up as your Dean practically growled.

“I’m you, remember?” Future Dean said, circling the pair of you now, his tone wicked. “So if she likes you... it’s not hard to imagine she’s wondering what I’m like. All that extra experience. All the pent-up apocalypse tension...”

“You're seriously hitting on yourself's girlfriend?” your Dean snapped, looking caught between disgust and panic.

“Not hitting,” Future Dean said with a cocky smirk. “Just observing.”

You bit your lip, trying to look anywhere but at the two versions of your very hot, very smug, very doomed boyfriend. Dean always had a way of setting you on fire—but two of him? One clean-cut, growling with jealousy, the other all brutal confidence and sultry scars?

You were so screwed.

Future Dean stepped closer, his voice dropping, making your stomach flip. “Tell me the truth, sweetheart. Just once—have you ever thought about it? What I’d be like? I know that look. I invented that look.”

You said nothing, blinking hard, but your Dean saw it.

“Seriously?” Dean barked, turning to you. “You’re blushing over him?”

“I’m blushing over both of you,” you snapped before you could stop yourself.

The silence was deafening.

Dean’s jaw clenched.

Future Dean grinned like the devil.

“Well, well,” the older one said, tongue flicking against the corner of his teeth. “Guess some things don’t change. Still mine. One way or another.”

Dean moved before you could stop him, grabbing your hand and tugging you flush against his chest. “She’s with me. Not your war-hardened ghost version.”

“And yet she’s looking at me like I already kissed her breathless,” Future Dean replied, voice smoky. “Want me to prove it?”

Your Dean looked ready to swing. You were caught between slapping someone or melting.

“I can’t deal with this,” you muttered, looking anywhere but between the two versions of Winchester testosterone battling in the room.

Future Dean leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded. “If it makes you feel better, sweetheart... I’d treat you real good. The world’s gone to hell. There’s no time for hesitation.”

Dean glared, one arm still firmly around your waist. “There’s also no time for seducing your own damn self’s girl.”

“I dunno,” Future Dean said, flicking his gaze toward you. “She seems pretty open-minded.”

You almost choked on air. “I—what? I am not—!”

Future Dean raised a brow. “Didn’t say you were. Just said you looked... curious.”

The tension in the air was stifling.

Two Deans. One past. One future. One loyal. One broken and bold.

And you?

You were stuck in the middle. Flushed. Shaky. And just the tiniest bit tempted.

—

Later—as the timeline was about to reset and Cas told you it was time to go—you caught Future Dean staring at you from the shadows.

You approached him slowly.

“You could’ve kissed me,” you said, voice low. “Why didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “Because I already did. In my past. Your future.” He winked. “And believe me... you liked it.”

Then he vanished into the smoke.

And your Dean?

He didn’t stop kissing you for days.

END

[otomehoneyybearr]

5th Anniversary - Kagari Amagase

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Epilogue

Something was placed over my head, and as I squirmed to brush it off,

I finally poked my face out of the darkness, where I saw the wildcat pawing desperately after the corner of a fluttering cloth in the cold wind.

Emma: “A... stole?”

Kagari: “You’re so frail, Princess.”

(He must’ve been busy preparing for the dance… and yet he still took the time to bring this for me.)

The white stole he’d draped over my head blocked out the chill of the wind.

The smile that slipped out unknowingly was the warmest one I’d had all day.

Emma: “Thank you very much. It’s so warm.”

Kagari: “I see.”

(His expression didn’t change… but it seems like he’s a little pleased.)

Kagari: “How long do you plan on staying here?”

Emma: “Until the new year… I think. What about you, Prince Kagari?”

Kagari: “I’ll stay until I get bored.”

Emma: “Then I hope we can welcome the new year together.”

Wildcat: “Meow.”

Emma: “Yes, with you too.”

(Welcoming the new year with the two of them… it feels almost too luxurious.)

Emma: “There’s still a little time before the new year, so… shall we share our resolutions?”

Kagari: “My resolutions are boring.”

Emma: “I’d still like to hear them.”

Kagari: “…Territorial expansion.”

Kagari: “Victory in war.”

(Ah…)

(Right. Of course. That goes without saying.)

Even in casual conversations, Prince Kagari bears the weight of countless lives.

In moments like this, I’m reminded that we live in completely different worlds.

(I’m sure next year will bring many days like that autumn night.)

(I’m in no place to say anything… but at the very least, as a friend, I want to pray for his safety.)

Kagari: “…”

Kagari: “You really are more suited to being the bride than the groom.”

Emma: “Huh?”

Lifting my downcast gaze, I saw Prince Kagari gently lift the edge of my stole.

His unwavering emerald green eyes pierced right through me, and my heart nearly stopped.

Kagari: “Right now, you’re dressed like a bride, aren’t you?”

Emma: “Because I’m wearing a white stole…?”

Kagari: “Yeah. Grooms don’t wear that.”

Kagari: “Since we’re here, how about we practice your wedding ceremony?”

Emma: “I am not doing that!”

(…Maybe he was just trying to lighten the mood after things got somber.)

I let out a small laugh, and at that moment, the low sound of bells rang out.

Beneath the cherry blossom tree, cheers for the new year rose up—

—and the bittersweet feelings from just moments before melted into the cold, dim sky.

…

(…Finally…)

(The day has finally come.)

I’d been waiting for spring—the season when the cherry blossoms become their most vivid.

Wildcat: “Meow?”

Emma: “Go on, now. This will be the tenth time I say goodbye to you."

Wildcat: "...Meow."

(You still won’t leave, huh.)

The wildcat I brought back last summer with Prince Kagari’s help had made a full recovery.

Its wounds were healed, its once-unkempt fur now smooth and healthy—and all that remained was to return it to the mountains.

But no matter how many times we said goodbye, the wildcat kept coming back.

My tears were already on the verge of spilling.

(I don’t want to say goodbye.)

(But I can’t stay in Kogyoku forever. I have to let it go back to the mountains.)

Kagari: “Princess, if you make that face, it’ll never leave you.”

Prince Kagari, standing beside me, pointed it out. I bit my lip hard.

(He’s right—I haven’t been able to smile at all.)

(This little one is kind… Maybe it keeps coming back because it’s worried about me.)

Wildcat: “Meow…”

Emma: “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

I bowed my head, then forced the corners of my lips upward as I lifted it again.

Emma: “You always came to meet me after work, didn’t you? Thank you so much.”

Emma: “Every season I spent with you was filled with joy.”

Emma: “But… you have a home to return to, right?”

Emma: “So please, stay healthy. And if you ever get lonely, you’re always welcome to come visit.”

Emma: “Bye-bye, Wildcat.”

Wildcat: “…”

The dependable, adorable wildcat rubbed against my legs again and again.

I resisted the urge to reach out and pet it and simply watched.

As if understanding my resolve, the wildcat finally backed away,

 And after glancing back several times, disappeared into the mountains.

(…I’m glad I was able to send it off safely.)

(I’m glad… but…)

The moment it disappeared from sight, my smile crumbled, and tears clouded my vision.

Kagari:  “…Are you crying?”

Emma: “I’m sorry… I couldn’t hold it in…”

(I promised I wouldn’t cry… and yet…)

Before I could wipe my tears myself, Prince Kagari reached out—

 Roughly rubbing my face roughly with his sleeve.

Emma: “Ah… Thank you… but…”

Emma: “…That really hurts.”

(He’s… not being gentle at all!)

Kagari: “That’s all it takes? You’re fragile.”

His hand withdrew, leaving only the sting behind.

But it was a clumsy, gentle kind of pain.

(Now that I think about it, Prince Kagari’s been watching over me all this time.)

Emma: “Prince Kagari… please let me properly thank you for putting up with me all this time.”

Kagari: “How exactly?”

Emma: “How about all the dorayaki you want—my treat?”

Kagari: “No good. That’s not enough.”

Emma: “Ugh… you’re right. That’s too ordinary a reward for spending nearly a year with me."

Emma: “Then maybe… maybe…”

Emma: “Do you have something in mind, Prince Kagari?”

Kagari: “There is one thing.”

(He does!)

Emma: “Please tell me!”

(He’s helped me so much—I’ll grant his request unless it’s really outrageous.)

Prince Kagari stared at me… and stared… and continued staring.

I got self-conscious, and my eyes began darting around nervously.

Emma: “…What is it?”

Kagari: “You’ll return to the land of roses someday, right?”

Kagari: “When that time comes, I want to see you cry again.”

Emma: “…Cry?”

Kagari: “Because I liked the way you looked when you were crying.”

(I’ve never been asked to cry as a thank-you before.)

As I sat there dumbfounded, Prince Kagari’s fingers gently traced my cheek, following the trail of my tears.

Kagari: “Besides, tears are supposed to represent the weight of time spent together.”

Kagari: "So I want to see, with my own eyes, the weight of the time you spent here with me in Kogyoku, Princess."

(So that’s what he meant when he said he wanted to see me cry.)

Still expressionless, Prince Kagari’s emerald eyes slowly moved closer.

Closer and closer—until his breath was almost touching me, and I instinctively jumped back.

Emma: “You’re way too close!”

Kagari: “You won’t even let your benefactor see your tears?”

Emma: “You said you wanted to see my tears when I leave, right? So—not now!”

Kagari: “Stingy.”

Emma: “Then I’ll gladly be stingy.”

(…The more memories like this we make, the harder it will be to say goodbye.)

(My time with Prince Kagari has been filled with joy, surprise… even fear and heartache…)

(And I know—someday all these feelings will turn into tears.)

(That’s why—)

Emma: “When that time comes… I want to be smiling, even if I’m crying.”

Emma: “So that the goodbye doesn’t hurt quite so much.”

Kagari: “You’d cry and smile at the same time? That’s impressive.”

Emma: “…I suppose it is.”

(But just imagining that day… makes me feel like crying already.)

(I’m not sure I’ll be able to smile like I did today.)

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[booklovingturtle]

There are (some) valid critiques about the pacing and story telling

Just remember not turn your constructive criticism for the show runners into hate directed at the child actors

[street-smarts00]

Wish You Were Sober

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary: The four times you confessed to Spencer while drunk, and the one time you did it sober

WC: 8.0 k

Tags/warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, lot’s of mention of alcohol consumption, regretting things said while drunk, drunk flirty reader, reader is emotionally constipated and doesn’t want to feel her feelings at first

A/N: chat I’ve been sitting on this for MONTHS it’s been marinating in my google docs for a while so hope you enjoy! I lowkey picture this happening in earlier seasons Spence but picture whatever you like ;) Beta read by the lovely @whats-yesterday00

The first time it happened, your feelings were just starting to peek through the surface. 

You tried your hardest to shove them back down. Trying to convince yourself that developing the beginnings of a crush was absolutely not happening. But the alcohol opened the door you tried to close.

The whole team went out for drinks on a friday night. After multiple shots with Derek and JJ, plus the drinks you had before that, you were feeling quite a buzz. A buzz that always left you more flirty and courageous than normal. 

You were busy dancing amongst the crowd with Penelope and JJ. The music was flowing through you all as it blasted throughout the bar. The movement and crowd caused the temperature to rise exponentially. 

You wiped the sweat forming on your forehead and paused your dancing. 

“What’s wrong?” JJ asked. 

“I’m melting,” you answered, fanning yourself. “I gotta go sit down.” 

Penelope blew you a kiss and said, “be back soon!” as you made your way to the table. You of course blew a kiss back to her. 

After weaving through the mass of people, you approached the table housing the rest of your coworkers with a heavy sigh. 

“You done partying already, pretty girl?” Derek teased. 

“No, not yet. I just need a breather. It feels like 1000 degrees right now.” You sat down across from him and next to Spencer. 

Derek’s attention was pulled towards someone behind you. A smirk grew on his face, “Oh Reid look, it’s that girl from earlier she’s back.” 

Spencer’s face flushed at Derek’s remark. 

“What girl?” you asked intrigued. You hated the taste that question left in your mouth. 

“It’s nothing,” Spencer tried to brush off before Derek interrupted. 

“She was flirting with him when he went up to the bar.” 

“She was not!” Spencer squeaked. 

Derek chuckled, “oh yes she was,” his eyes turned back to you. “She was definitely into him. And judging by the fact that she keeps looking over here, I think she wants to talk to him again.”

Spencer hid his face in his hands and quietly groaned.

“Why don’t you go over there? Go talk to her,” you encouraged while silently hoping he doesn’t leave the table.

Spencer lifted his face from his hands. His face was scarlet now. 

“I can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but cut himself off. He saw your eyes staring back at him and felt his palms getting sweaty. He swallowed and stuttered on his words. “Because I wouldn’t know what to say. I can’t flirt.” 

Derek leaned back in his chair, dissatisfied with his answer. “That’s bull.” 

“It’s not bull.” That was probably the closest you came to hearing Spencer curse. “I’d probably make a fool of myself and say something stupid.” 

“Spencer, you say a lot of things,” this earned a chuckle from Derek across the table, “But I don’t think you could ever say something stupid.” 

Spencer tried to resist the smile spreading on his face from your compliment. 

“Still doesn’t change the fact that once I open my mouth, she’ll lose all interest in me.” 

A small pout appeared on your lips. “Well, I don’t see how a girl wouldn’t find you endearing.” 

“Really?” He didn’t believe you. 

“Yes! I thought you were so cute when I first met you,” your eyes brightened. “The day we met, I remember you were rambling about something and I just sat there amazed.” 

He swallowed as his ears turned crimson. “You thought I was cute?” his voice cracked at the end of his question.

“Sweetie, I think you’re more than cute,” your voice lowered as you locked eyes with him. 

“Morgan calls you pretty boy for a reason,” you continued with a mischievous glint in your eyes. 

Spencer’s heart damn near stopped. He knew your playful demeanor was from the amount of drinks you’d consumed, but still seeing you so openly attracted to him was making him delirious. 

Morgan, of course, found the whole interaction to be the most intriguing thing he’d seen all week. The growing amused smile on his face was telling enough. 

“Wow I think that girl from the bar has got some competition,” he teased. 

You shrugged in response to his comment. “Maybe,” was all you gave as your answer. You stood up from your chair with Spencer's eyes still beaming at you. 

“I’m gonna go dance some more,” you turned to the man next to you. “You wanna come with, pretty boy?”

Spencer struggled to get the words out for a few seconds. “I can’t. I don’t know how to dance.” 

You tried to hide the disappointment on your face but the gleam in your eyes had dimmed. 

“Maybe next time,” you replied before making your way back to the girls. 

Spencer watched you walk away and disappear into the crowd. He then received an extensive amount of teasing and questions as to why he didn’t say yes from Morgan for the next 20 minutes while you were gone. 

Over the weekend, the hangxiety set in. You layed in bed staring at the ceiling as the memories from Friday night flooded your mind. 

The anxiety followed into Monday as you stood in the elevator. The doors opened to the sixth floor and you reluctantly dragged yourself to the bullpen. 

Your hands tightened around your bag as you approached your desk. Spencer’s eyes lingered on you as you set your things down

“Morning,” he greeted with a small smile.  

“Morning,” you mumbled. 

You fidgeted with your hands and stepped closer to his desk. 

“Listen Spence, about Friday night… l’m sorry I was flirty with you.” 

His cheeks turned a dusty rose at the memory. “It’s alright.” 

This still didn’t ease your worries. “Are you sure?  The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable around me. Especially because of something I did.”

His eyes softened when he noticed just how nervous you were. 

“I don’t, I promise,” he reassured. 

“So we’re okay?”

He nodded with a small smile and the weight started to lift off your shoulders. 

___________________________________________

The second time it happened was a few weeks later. 

It was Derek’s birthday. The whole team went out to dinner followed by a trip to the bar to keep the night going. 

Spencer stayed behind at the table, watching you order drinks and chat with Emily at the bar. He also tried to ignore the angry green feeling surfacing as the bartender flirted with you. 

“So, are you finally gonna dance with her tonight?” Derek asked the young man as he sat down beside him. 

Spencer sighed as he kept his eyes trained on you. “I don’t know.” 

His friend patted him on the back, “Come on man. Consider it my birthday present.” 

Spencer turned his attention to the man beside him. “I already got you a present.” 

“Kid,” Rossi interjected from farther down the table, “in my professional opinion, when a woman asks you to dance, you dance.” 

This brought out a smile from Hotch. 

“Even if you think you’ll look like a fool,” Rossi continued. 

“Like two weeks ago when that woman asked Morgan to dance,” Hotch teased, which brought out an annoyed expression from the man in question. 

“Hey! I was not that bad,” Derek defended. 

“You looked like a bird doing a mating dance,” Spencer now joined in. 

Derek looked appalled from the younger man’s joke. 

Soon after you approached the table with Emily. “What’s so funny?” You asked the table.

”Morgan's attempts to woo women,” Rossi joked. 

Emily took a sip from her drink and rolled her eyes playfully. “Oh where do I begin?” 

Derek stood up from the table shaking his head and smiling. “Well, I’m gonna go dance with people who appreciate my moves.” He then made his way to the open area where Penelope and JJ were. 

Back at the table, before you could sit down, the speakers of the bar started to play Maneater by Nelly Furtado. You gasped and a bright smile filled your features. 

“I love this song!” You squealed. 

You set your half consumed drink down on the table and looked at Spencer, “Do you want to go dance?” 

He looked at you surprised. “Me?” He squeaked. 

You giggled, finding his reaction cute, “Yes you!”

Spencer started closing in on himself. Before he could come up with the excuse he used last time you said, “I can teach you. It’ll be so much fun!” 

You were oblivious to the knowing looks from your other team mates at the table. Your focus was only on Spencer. Staring deep into his golden eyes and finding nothing but comfort. 

“Okay,” he agreed with a small smile. 

You beamed with excitement, “Yay! Let’s go.” You offered your hand to him. He took it and found you pulling him up from his chair and towards the dance floor. 

He followed you through the people in the crowd until you found an open space to settle. You held onto his hands as you swayed to the beat. 

Spencer tried to follow you but was still noticeably tense. He was also less focused on his dancing because he was too enamored by your movements. Watching you sway so effortlessly with the rhythm. 

“Look at you Spence! You’re getting the hang of it,” you praised. 

He appreciated the compliment but cringed, “I feel awkward.” 

“That’s not how dancing should feel. You should feel free and loose.” You let go of his hands and spun around.

A real smile spread on his lips, “I’m surprised you’re this coordinated with how many drinks you’ve had.” 

“Oh, I guess you missed when I almost stepped on you.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head, “I guess I didn’t.” 

The song ended and changed to Don’t Stop The Music by Rihanna. Your jaw dropped and your face filled with excitement. 

“You like this song?” he asked even though he already knew the answer. 

You grabbed his hands once more and grinned, “Yes!” You resumed dancing with his hands in yours. This time you were mouthing the lyrics of the song. 

I gotta get my body moving, shake the stress away you heard from the speakers and shook Spencer's hands. 

“You gotta shake the stress baby!” you cheered at him. 

He bashfully laughed watching you drunkenly shout. And hearing you call him baby, but that’s beside the point.

As the song played your hips and shoulders moved to the rhythm of the music. He wasn’t as successful as you when it came to swaying his hips but he could move his shoulders and copy you. 

Who knew that you’d be up in here lookin’ like you do?

You took a step back and gestured to him as the song said. Spencer shook his head and pulled on your hands to bring you back closer to him. 

Do you know what you started? I just came here to party

You took him pulling you back as a way to sneak your arms around his neck. 

But now we're rockin’ on the dance floor actin’ naughty 

Spencer’s cheeks started to turn red at the closeness. 

Your hands around my waist, just let the music play

You retracted your hands to grab his and place them on your waist. 

We’re hand in hand, chest to chest, and now we’re face to face 

By the time your arms returned wrapped around his neck, his ears were crimson. With your arms around him your shirt raised slightly. His hands met the gap of your skin that was exposed. 

Even though he felt like his insides were going to melt, he kept his hands on you and kept dancing. Spencer followed the steps you took, the way you moved back and forth. He was finally starting to let the music flow through him. 

You definitely took notice. It only made you more eager to dance with him. 

As the song continued into the next verse you grew more confident. 

Don’t you feel the passion ready to explode? 

Your hands moved to his shoulders. You moved in closer, and with a playful smirk sang along the words so Spencer could hear. 

What goes on between us, no one has to know

Just when Spencer thought the fluttering in his stomach couldn’t get worse, you leaned in close to his ear and whispered the next lyric.

This is a private show

The air between you was magnetic. It felt like you were in your own little world. Like the rest of the bar goers were gone. Suddenly, it was just you two on that dance floor. 

Spencer’s face was inches away from yours. You were so close you could count the freckles on his pink cheeks. 

“You look so cute, all flustered,” you muttered. 

He licked his lips nervously, “I’m not used to dancing like this with someone.” 

“Are you having fun at least?” 

“Yes,” he answered instantly. 

“Well then, we should do this more often,” you offered with a sweet smile. 

As the song came to an end you leaned up and left a kiss on Spencer’s cheek. You took a step back to fully look at him. His eyes slightly widened and his lips parted from your peck on his cheek. 

“I love dancing with you,” you released your hold on his shoulders. The ghost of your touch was still hot on his skin. “Hopefully we can do this again.” 

His eyes shined as he looked at you, “I’d like that.” 

________________________________________

The third time it happened, Spencer got a phone call at 12:04 am. 

He was resting on his couch, nose deep in a book, when he heard his phone buzz. He breathed a sigh of relief at the caller ID revealing it to be you instead of Hotch with a new case. 

When he answered, he heard loud music and faint voices in the back. 

“Hello?” 

You quickly answered back, “Spencer! I didn’t wake you, did I?” Your voice had a higher pitch than normal. 

“No, I was just reading. What’s up?” 

“I went out to a bar for girls night but…I had one too many drinks,” you whined. 

He sat up straighter, “are you alright?” 

There was a pause before you spoke again. “The room is spinning. I’m really dizzy and everything is overwhelming,” you mumbled. Hearing you sound so scared and small made his heart hurt. 

“I didn’t want to bother the girls because they’re having so much fun and none of them can drive right now.” 

Before you could finish your statement, he was already standing up and walking to find his shoes and jacket. 

“Do you want me to pick you up?” He knew the answer. 

“Please. Can you?” you begged. 

Spencer was grabbing his keys and out the door in a heartbeat. “Of course, I’m on my way.”

Ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot. He walked inside and looked around the crowded room. A few meters away, a hand rose from a booth and waved him over. 

He followed it and found Emily, JJ and Penelope keeping you company at the booth. You rested your head in your arms, which were folded on the table. 

JJ carefully tapped your arm, “hey, your ride is here.” 

You slowly lifted your head up and beamed at the sight of him. 

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he said softly. 

“They found me,” you said pointing to your friends. “They said they would babysit me until you showed up.” 

He chuckled and lightly rubbed your shoulder, “You okay? You think you can walk to the car?” 

You nodded and slowly stood up. 

“Text one of us when you get home safe,” Penelope announced. 

You gave a lazy thumbs up in her direction and turned to Spencer, “Can you remind me to do that?” 

The corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. “Of course. Come on, let's get you home,” he nodded towards the door. 

You waved and said goodbye to the girls before Spencer led you through the crowd with his hand in yours. You grasped his hand like it was an anchor in the over-stimulating environment. 

When you stepped outside, the cool breeze caused goosebumps to rise on your skin. The fresh air and dulled sounds were already starting to help you feel better. 

Unfortunately, your balance was still screwed and you managed to trip over air. Before you could fall to the ground, Spencer swiftly reached out and caught you. He helped you stand back up and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. 

“I got you, you’re okay,” he muttered close to your ears. 

Him being so sweet was going to make your stomach twist. 

The rest of the walk to the car he kept his arm around you. Your body instinctively leaned into him and used his frame to keep you upright. 

When you reached his car, he opened the passenger door and let go of his hold on you. You almost whined at the loss of contact. 

“Thanks for coming to get me,” you spoke quietly as he helped guide you into the car.  

Before he closed the door and headed to the driver's seat he offered a kind, “You’re welcome.” 

The beginning of the car ride was quite aside from the hushed music on the radio. You leaned back, slouching in the car seat. 

You watched Spencer’s hands on the wheel instead of the rapidly changing view of the windshield. Your fuzzy mind was trying to focus on anything that wasn't the dizzy spinning feeling that couldn't go away. 

Of course your thoughts were jumbled with images of the man next to you. 

“You’re so nice,” you said with a fond look. 

He looked at you with brief confusion over your random declaration. “Thanks,” he returned his eyes to the road. 

You shuffled in your seat to face him. 

“No you’re really nice,” you huffed, frustrated he somehow didn’t understand the full scope of what your drunk brain meant. “You’re so kind and sweet to everyone. I love it.” 

An amused smile grew on his face. “I try to be,” he returned.  

“You are.” 

He quickly glanced over to see your figure leaning against the seat. Or more like the seat holding you up. Your eyes occasionally felt heavy, leading to your eyelids fluttering every so often. 

“You look half asleep,” he teased. 

“I feel half asleep.” 

“Then why are you so chatty all of a sudden?” 

You shrugged, “I don’t know, just feel like talking.” 

You forced your eyes open to get a better look at him. “I like talking with you.” 

Spencer tried not to think about how your voice was much more soft and melodious than normal. 

“I like talking with you too,” he affirmed. 

He suddenly went down a mental rabbit hole of your previous conversations with him. How often you conversed over coffee early in the morning. All those plane rides home where you both had to stifle your laughter so as to not bother the others. Or the dozens of times he rambled to you about endless topics. 

“I’m surprised I haven't bored you yet with how much I talk.” 

“Oh sweetie, I could never get bored of you.” 

His ears started to turn red at the flirtatious tone in your voice. 

“I could listen to you talk for hours. Even about things I don’t understand. I’ll always listen to you,” you continued.

“Really?” He muttered with a slight voice crack. His heart rate was steadily growing. 

“Uh huh,” you confirmed sweetly. 

His eyes darted to yours for a fleeting moment. You looked completely and utterly enraptured by him. 

“Your voice sounds like honey.”

Spencer's grip on the steering wheel tightened. He kept his gaze trained on the road ahead. 

“We’re almost at your apartment,” he deflected. 

Your smile fell slightly. 

The air in the car was growing stale by the seconds. Neither of you spoke until he pulled up to your building. 

As you reached for the door handle, he whispered for you to “wait one second.” You complied. He got out of the car and walked to your side. He opened the passenger door and held out a hand for you. 

“What a gentleman,” you said with a smug grin. 

He chuckled and made sure you didn’t stumble as you stepped out of the car. 

“I try,” he replied. 

“You succeed.” 

As you walked together to your apartment, neither of you let go of the other's hand. At your door, you fumbled with your keys. Spencer tried to offer to open the door himself but you shooed away his hand and mumbled, “I got it, I got it.” 

After fighting with the lock, you stepped inside and practically threw your bag on the couch. You were seconds away from falling on the couch yourself before Spencer calmly grabbed your shoulders. 

“Come on, let's get you to bed.” 

You whined but didn’t object. He guided you down the hall to your room. In the dark, he reached for your lamp and turned it on. You plopped down on your bed and yawned. 

“Where are your makeup wipes?” He asked, looking around the room.

You pointed towards the dresser, “In the top left drawer.” He followed your directions and returned to your bed, handing the pack to you. 

“See I told you. You’re so nice,” you complimented while lazily cleaning your hours old makeup off. 

“Why because I got you your makeup wipes?” He joked with a playful tone. 

You giggled in response. The sound made Spencer feel like he was the intoxicated one. He would never get used to the way you laughed. 

“No silly, not just that. The fact that you’re still here.”

You tried and failed at getting your lipstick and eyeliner off. Instead you smeared the deep colors around your face. 

Spencer’s lips formed a thin line, trying not to smile at you smearing your makeup. He grabbed a fresh wipe and kneeled down in front of you. “Here let me help,” he mumbled. With careful hands, he pressed the damp wipe to your face to finish the job. 

“Of course I was going to stay with you,” he acknowledged your previous comment. “I’m not going to just drop you off. I wanted to make sure you were safe and feeling okay.” 

You tried not to smile because his hand was so close to your mouth. Your brain was going to short circuit at the closeness. His face mere inches away. His hand and the skin of your face are only separated by a tiny piece of cloth. 

You watched intently as he used his thumb to wipe off the last bit of lipstick. His movements were desperately slow as he handled you with care. Like you were a fragile statue he couldn’t let break. 

The action made your chest tighten and your heart race. If you had consumed another drink or two back at the bar, you would’ve jumped at the chance to kiss him. 

But instead, you stared deeply into his eyes as he checked your face for any more makeup residue. His pupils were wide. You assumed it was from the dim lighting of the room. 

You may not have been drunk enough to kiss him, but you were drunk enough to joke about it. 

“What if I just kissed you right now?”

His eyes widened and his lips parted in shock. “What has gotten into you?” he questioned in a lighthearted tone. 

“What? it’s not just me! You’re also staring at my lips!” you put your hands up in defense with a mischievous grin. “Just say you wanna kiss me.” 

He chuckled at your antics. “Because I’m taking off your makeup. And what about you staring at my eyes?” 

A grin spread on your face. “I can’t help it. They’re beautiful. Nice to look at.” 

“They’re not that nice.” 

“I beg to differ gorgeous,” you returned with a wink. “I could look at them all day.” 

Spencer smiled as his cheeks turned pink. He looked between your eyes and your lips before his expression faltered for a moment. Like he was mentally stuck on something. 

However, because of your dizzy mind and vision, you didn’t pick up on it. 

He stood back up and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You think you’ll be okay?” 

You nodded, “Yeah. Thanks again for … everything.” 

“You’re welcome.” He started walking towards your bedroom door but before he left the room, he paused. “Don’t forget to let the girls know you got home safe.” 

Your jaw went slack and a hand flew to your forehead, “oh my god you’re right.” 

He fought back a grin from your reaction. “Goodnight,” he offered before he left. 

You waved and said goodnight as his frame left your bedroom. The sound of the front door shutting soon followed. 

Before you passed out for the night you texted penelope you got home safe. But you didn’t see her reply until the morning. 

Penelope: yay! 

Penelope: hope you feel better my sweets <3

Thanks :) I have a raging migraine so I better feel better soon 

Penelope: :(

Penelope: oh btw, how’d it go with boy genius???

Ugh 

I flirted with him AGAIN 

Penelope: you’re kidding! 

Penelope: What did you say?

I can’t remember all of it but at some point I said his voice sounds like honey 

Penelope: OMG

Oh no it gets worse

He helped me take off my makeup and I said I wanted to kiss him. And THEN I pointed out how he stared at my lips and I said “just say you wanna kiss me” 

Penelope: oh girlie

Penelope: I think you have to throw in the towel 

Penelope: you love him

You stared at the words on the screen before your hands could even type a reply. Mentally fighting with yourself about the subject. 

No way

I can’t be in love with him

He’s my friend I can’t do that 

Penelope: I don’t think you have much of a choice  

You sighed and turned off your phone. As you reached for the aspirin bottle, you prayed you wouldn’t do something stupid like this ever again 

You were wrong. 

______________________________________

By the fourth time it happened, almost a month had passed since you asked him to pick you up. 

To celebrate the success of a case, his coworkers and friends wanted to go out for some down time. He thanked them for the invitation but kindly rejected it saying he had previous plans to attend some film festival. In reality, he had been on the fence about attending the film festival and ended up spending the evening at home. 

As much as he wanted an excuse to spend time with you, he couldn’t go through another evening of you flirting with him. 

Normally, it’d be his dream to have you flirt with him and call him sweet names. To hear how much you liked his voice, his eyes, and the way his brilliant mind worked. But the more it occurred, the more confused he felt.

At first, he assumed you were just a flirtatious drunk and there was no meaning behind your advances. But as time went on, he saw your actions and affectionate words had so much desire, so much longing that he started to suspect they were based on real feelings. 

Yet, it was only reserved for the version of you that had multiple drinks running through your system. 

He’d almost given up on asking you how you felt. Almost. 

Something that gave him a glimmer of hope was a voicemail he received. 

In an effort to actually get some sleep, he took a late night shower. When he returned to his bedroom, he found his cell phone had received a voicemail. He checked and saw he missed a call from the very person he was anxiously avoiding. 

With new clean pajamas on, he grabbed his phone and sat down on his bed ready for the possible plea for him to pick you up. He clicked the message and lifted the phone to his ear. 

“Hi Spence! I wanted to talk but it looks like you’re busy,” your voice sounded sweet and bubbly. He deduced you might have already gone home at this point given the fact that this time there was no loud background music or voices.

“I missed you tonight. I wish you came with us. I know that isn’t always your favorite place to be, but I still kinda had hope. I love spending time with you. I don’t care if it’s at work or off the clock, it makes me so happy to see you.”

His heart felt warm from the way you talked about him. Your voice sounded giddy and occasionally you would slur your words. 

“It’s kinda silly but when we don’t have work or plans, I will literally count down the days until I get to see you again. Isn’t that silly? I spend like five or six days of my week with you and when I don’t see you, I’m thinking about when I’ll see you again.” 

Spencer found familiarity in what you were saying. For the last few weeks he found his thoughts were constantly revolving back to you. Whether intentionally or not. 

“I pretty much think about you all the time. It’s becoming a bit of a problem. I don’t mean you’re a problem! The problem is how much I like you. I’ve never liked someone as much as I like you.”

There was a brief pause in your message. He almost thought the voicemail was over until your voice returned softer than before. 

“I’m probably falling in love with you.” 

“And that’s really scary to think about because I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before. You’re different Spence, when I’m around you I feel-“ 

You were cut off by the time limit of the voicemail. Spencer stared at his phone screen with wide eyes. His heart was beating so fast it could’ve jumped out of his chest. 

He finally got an answer to the question that plagued his mind. You loved him back. 

You loved him. 

His whole body was filled with adrenaline. He almost grabbed his keys and drove over to you at that moment. But he knew he had to wait. He couldn’t have this conversation with you while you were still intoxicated and would probably fall asleep by the time he got there. 

Spencer on the other hand, could barely sleep. He was too busy on cloud 9 to come back down and let sleep overtake him. 

The next morning he was practically buzzing with excitement. He got up earlier than normal for work so he could stop by your apartment. 

He nervously knocked on your door. He kept fidgeting by fixing his tie and cardigan while he waited for you. 

When you did open the door he saw you were still in the process of getting ready. You had on dress pants and an old college t-shirt. 

You looked surprised to see him of course since he didn’t announce he was going to come over. “Spencer? What are you doing here?”

Suspicion started to creep its way into his mind. For now he ignored it and pushed on. 

“I thought we could commute to work together. I figured you would be hungover and not in the best mood to drive.” 

Your eyebrows raised and lips turned up. “That is so sweet of you,” you beamed. You opened the door wider, suggesting he was welcome. He followed and walked inside your apartment

“You’re absolutely right by the way. I feel like shit,” you groaned. “My head is killing me, I’m exhausted and I have this massive bruise on my leg.” You waved your hand over your right thigh indicating where the injury was. 

“I have no clue how I got it. I probably fell but I'm not sure. Most of last night is fuzzy, I barely even remember how I got home,” you joked with a chuckle.

The suspicion Spencer felt turned into a pit in his stomach. With furrowed brows he asked the million dollar question. “Do you remember calling me last night?”

You stared at the ground as you tried to shuffle through the vague images of the night before. “No I don’t. What did we talk about?” you asked innocently. 

His grip on the strap of his satchel tightened. “We didn’t. Talk. I couldn’t pick up the phone and didn’t realize you had called me until this morning. That’s why I wanted to stop by. To make sure you were okay.” He topped off his lie with a flat smile. 

”Thanks for checking up on me,” you sweetly replied, not yet aware of the internal mess he was experiencing. 

“It’s no problem,” his voice almost cracked.

“I need to finish getting dressed and brush my teeth but I’ll be ready to leave in like five minutes.” You speed walked back to your bedroom. 

It wasn’t until he heard the door close that he finally let the storm of emotions rip through him. His chest was getting tighter by the second. It felt like he was suffocating. 

You don’t remember. 

You told him you loved him and you don’t remember it at all. The best news he’d heard in months was a blip in your memory. Was late night drunk babbling. 

He felt so foolish. So stupid for thinking you might really reciprocate his feelings. 

One part of himself that was still holding onto hope tried to remember that “drunk words are sober thoughts.” But that’s not always true. 

He knew studies have shown intoxication can lead to someone misinterpreting their own thoughts or feelings. Leading to them impulsively expressing things that they don’t really believe. 

Unfortunately, the factual and heartbroken part of his brain was overwhelming compared to the sliver of hope he had left. 

“Alright, I’m good to go,” you snuck back into the living room. Your voice brought him back to the present. 

You grabbed your purse off the couch and walked towards the front door. As you put on your jacket you noticed the sudden change in Spencer’s demeanor. 

“Spence, you okay?”

”Yeah, I’m fine,” he nodded and answered with a light voice. But you could see right through it. His eyes gave it away. They looked so full of hurt. 

”Spencer-“

”I promise, I’m fine,” he interrupted. He offered you a fake smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He walked to your door and tightly held his bag. “We should go before we hit traffic.” 

You observed him for a few seconds longer than he liked. The profiler side of you wanted to pry but you knew it was a bad idea to push your friend. 

The drive to work was agonizingly quiet. It was odd for you two to barely speak when in close quarters. Instead, you both let the tension hang in the air, ignored and untouched. 

Spencer sat with his feelings for most of the drive. He didn’t want to be hopeful anymore. He didn’t want to be confused if it was real anymore. At this point, he just wanted to give up. 

Now, he’d have to keep a tight lid on his feelings for you. Leave it to fester and wear away at his heart. 

Like that would do any good though. He couldn’t stop loving you no matter how hard he tried. 

____________________________________

The following days felt like a dream to you. But not in a good way. 

It felt like one of those dreams where you know something is off, but can’t tell what it is. 

Spencer had been closed off ever since he picked you up for work. You couldn't wrap your head around why. He seemed so happy and eager when he arrived at your apartment that morning. 

That was the last time you saw him act normal around you. Now there was an underlying bitterness in the words he spoke. Everytime you tried to ask him if he was okay, whatever excuse he gave you left a sour taste in his mouth. 

You weren’t the only one to notice either. Everyone could sense the air go stale when you entered a room he was in. How his eyes no longer lingered on you. Or how it almost pained him to even look at you. 

His sudden change in behavior was starting to drive you insane. You were overthinking and overanalyzing every single interaction you had with him, leading up to that day in your apartment. Every move you made around him was calculated. You were terrified one wrong word or move would make him hate you. 

“He hates me.” 

“He doesn’t hate you,” Penelope swung around in her chair to face you. “I think it’s impossible for him to hate you.” 

You shook your head, “but still he won’t talk to me Pen. He’s always been so open with me and the last few days he’s been shutting me out. He hasn’t been weird around you guys at all.” 

She twirled a sparkly purple pen in her hands as she watched you sulk. “You said it started on Thursday last week?” 

“Yeah, the day after our last case.” 

Penelope sat back in her chair thinking. “Do you think the case bothered him? Could that be why he went home instead of going out with us?” 

“No, I don't think so. The next morning when he showed up at my apartment he was in a good mood. A great mood even,” you folded your arms in frustration. “But when I left the room and came back he looked like a sad puppy.” 

Penelope tapped her pen against her chin. “Why was he at your apartment before work?” 

“Apparently, I called him the night before but he didn’t pick up so he stopped by to check up on me and assumed I’d be hungover.” 

“Awe, that’s sweet,” she cooed before her confusion crossed her features. “Wait, you apparently called him? You’re not sure?” 

You cringed as you explained, “I don’t remember calling him. I was really drunk.” 

She tried to hide the amusement on her face but failed. “Why did you call him?” 

You stared at the floor trying to piece together what happened after you got home that night. “I remember missing him. I wanted to talk to him, but I’m not sure what about.” 

“It’d pay good money to hear whatever voicemail you must’ve left him,” she chuckled with a cheeky grin. 

“Right!” You started to chuckle with her until vague memories of talking on the phone came to light. Your face fell as your drunk declarations were pulled out of your long term memory. 

“Oh god,” you said barely above a whisper. 

Penelope filled with concern, “sweetie what’s wrong?” 

“I did leave him a voicemail. He must have listened to it while I was changing,” your eyes widened and anxiety started flowing through your veins. 

Before she could ask what you said in the message, you interrupted. “I have to go,” you alerted as you remembered Spencer already left the office. “I’ll text you later!” 

You practically ran back to the bullpen to grab your things and tell Hotch you were leaving for the night. 

The car ride to his apartment was agonizing. You gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white.

This was all your fault. He couldn’t stand to be around you and talk to you anymore because you drunkenly told him you loved him. 

You ruined your friendship. 

The least you could do was go to his apartment to try to make things right. Try to fix whatever you have broken. 

You couldn’t lose him. Not Spencer. Not the first man you ever actually truly wholeheartedly loved. Even if he didn’t love you back the same way. You’d rather live with the soul crushing pain of unrequited feelings, than lose one of the most important people in your life. 

The walk to his apartment was even worse than the drive to his building. With every step you took, your heart grew heavier. By the time you weakly knocked on his door, your eyes had started to water. 

When Spencer opened the door, his face fell with concern. 

“I remember,” you whispered before he could ask what was wrong. 

A look of realization dawned on him. He stepped to the side and opened the door wider, “come in.” 

You followed and stood awkwardly in his living room. You’d been here hundreds of times before. But now it feels different. Even though you were welcomed inside it still felt like he was miles away. 

“Spencer, I am so sorry.” 

“For what?” He already knows what you’re talking about, you can see it in his eyes. 

“The voicemail.” 

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You’re sorry for sending it?”

“Yes, no!” you stuttered fidgeting with your rings. “I meant what I said. Every bit of it. I just uh- I wish I had told you all of that when I was sober. Maybe I could’ve phrased it better. Not come off so strong.” 

“Why didn’t you?” he inquired, a hint of desperation in his voice.

He took a single step closer to you. “You could’ve told me.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed at him, “wait, you’re not mad about what I said?” 

He mirrored your confusion, “what do you mean?” 

“All week you’ve been acting weird. I thought you were mad or uncomfortable with me because I said I love you.”

Spencer raised his hand to his face as he realized. “I would never be mad at you for that.” His voice raised slightly in frustration, almost a wine, as he continued, “I was upset because by the time you sobered up, you forgot about it.” 

“Oh,” you whispered —if you could even call it that— under your breath. 

He lied. He listened to the message before he showed up, was going to ask about it, and you forgot like an idiot. 

“You only flirt with me or show interest in me when you're drunk. I couldn’t tell what was real or not,” his expression showed more pain as he spoke.

“Spencer, I promise I really do have feelings for you.”

His lips formed a flat line as he stared back at you. “Then why did you only show it when you were drunk?”

“Because I was scared!” your voice raised. You spoke with your hands as you got louder. “How do you tell your best friend you fell in love with them? You can’t! It just doesn't work. I thought I was going to lose you.”

“I’m in love with you.” 

You deadpanned at him, “Spencer, I’m being serious.” 

“So am I,” he said louder than you. 

The weight of his confession finally settled. Time stood still. The world stopped turning. The hands on the clock stopped ticking. 

His voice was quieter this time when he said it. He spoke in the gentlest tone you’d ever heard from him. Like the words dripped right from his arteries, carrying them away from his heart and to you. 

“I love you.” 

“You do?” 

You don’t know why you asked that. It seemed to be the only thing that could leave your mouth. How could you not believe him when he said those three words like that. Like it was his purpose. That he was put on this earth to love you and only you. 

The realization of what his confession meant started to dawn on you.

“That’s why you were at my apartment. So you could tell me. And I-“ 

You stared at the floor with wide guilty eyes and sat (more like fell) on his couch. The guilt started to creep into your blood. It started to crush your bones. 

“Oh I screwed up everything,” you buried your face in your hands. 

He sat down next to you, “no you didn’t.”

“Yes I did. You have every right to be mad at me.” 

”I'm not,” his hand landed on your back, his thumb slowly caressing you. 

You looked up at him, “really?”

“Yes.” 

You stared back at him, looking unconvinced. 

He surrendered and shrugged, “okay I was kind of crushed about it. But I know now that you really did mean it.” 

“I still hurt you,” you returned meekly. The tears started to return back to your eyes and you blinked them away. 

“I’m so sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?” 

His thumb stopped its movements on your back. With the same hand, he pushed back the hair that had fallen in your face. He looked into your eyes like he wanted to see all of you. See every little crack and crevice of your soul you tried to hide from him in fear of judgment, in fear of him running away. 

He could never run away from you. 

“Tell me everything you wished you could say when you were sober.” 

You sat up straighter and turned to fully face him. After taking a slow deep breath, you said what you’d wanted to say to him for months. 

No liquid courage. Just the pure, raw, unadulterated you. 

“Spencer, I’m in love with you. I couldn’t tell you when I was sober because I was afraid. I was in denial for so long. I tried to convince myself I wasn’t falling for you. And it’s not because I don’t want to have feelings for you. It’s the opposite. I love you so much it scares me.”

You started to play with your rings again. “I’ve never been in love before. I’ve never said it and been sure that I really meant it.”

“I mean it when I say it to you. I know I mean it because I want to spend as much time as I can with you. Doesn’t matter if it’s sitting quietly next to each other on the jet or dancing in a crowded bar. I know I mean it because I’d do anything for you. I’d listen to anything you want to ramble about. I’d drive you anywhere you wanted to go because I know you’re not the biggest fan of driving.” 

You swallowed down the lump you didn’t realize formed in your throat. 

“I always find myself crawling back to you when you’re not near.” 

It was only now you really noticed Spencer's expression. His eyes were soft and dilated so much there was barely any brown left in them. His waterline threatened to spill with tears. 

Before you could even dare to say anything else, he reached to the back of your neck and pulled you closer. His lips mixed with yours in a long awaited dance. 

The kiss wasn’t overwhelmed with passion. But also not too slow and careful. The only way you could describe it was perfect. 

It was perfect. 

He was perfect. 

Every aching moment of yearning and longing leading up to this. 

After kissing for what felt like forever —although you’re pretty sure you could kiss him for forever— you laid down on the couch with your head on his chest. Your arms wrapped tightly around him as if he could disappear at any moment. His one arm wrapped around your waist while the other was playing with your hair. 

“You can stay the night if you want,” he nonchalantly tried to offer without explicitly asking if you would stay over. 

“Do you think we’ll have time in the morning to stop by my apartment to get me fresh clothes?” 

“If not, you could borrow one of my sweaters.” 

You chuckled, “Imagine their faces when we show up to work together and with me very clearly wearing your clothes.” 

He smiled at the thought of you wearing his clothes to work. The image of you proudly showing off that he was yours. “Yeah I can imagine it.” 

[archiveluna]

BSF!RAFE S1–S4! ₊˚ෆ INSPIRED BY THIS & THIS!

season one. what a horrible boy… literally the worst friend ever. honestly treats you like shit and he’s probably made you cry before—but also kinda overprotective? he can say mean shit to you but the moment someone else tries to do the same he is not having it! and more often than not, topper and you have to pull him away because he tries to start a fight with whoever said anything to you. constantly ditching you, forgetting any plans you’d made, and only offering half-assed apologies to get you off his back. it’s such a toxic friendship. you’ve tried cutting him off before, but it doesn’t really work because he refuses to let you go. you can block his number, block him on social media, but the next day he’s still showing up to your house like nothing happened, letting himself in. straight up laughs in your face if you tell him to get out. condescendingly calls you baby. “think you’re overreactin’ a little bit, baby. i already said i was sorry—dunno what else you want from me.”

season two. still kinda toxic, but let’s also add codependency and possessiveness now. he’s spiraling and you’re the only who’s there for him. he honestly scares you a little bit at times… but you genuinely do care for him. how can you not? it’s rafe—you’ve known each other your whole lives. and in his own way, you know he cares for you too, so you stick by him. doesn’t want you to look at him the same way everyone else does, so he doesn’t tell you about peterkin or any of the other shady shit he does, and you don’t ask either. he shows up to your house at unholy hours of the night, rarely ever calm. he’s always wide–eyed and jittery from the lines he’d done before leaving his house, seeking your comfort and reassurance. you show up to pick him up when he’s released from jail after ward ‘dies’ and you hold him in your arms later that night when he breaks down and tells you everything. now that you know what he’s done, he sees no point in keeping anything from you… but just know he’s never letting you go now. “don’t know what i’d do without you baby… you’re the only thing that’s keeping me from losin’ my goddamn mind.”

season three. you couldn’t leave with him when he’d left for guadeloupe with his family, so you don’t hear from him for a while. it’s not that he didn’t want to text or call you—he was dying to. rafe genuinely felt like he was going crazy without you, but he couldn’t risk it. when ward sends him back to the obx, you’re the first person he pays a visit to. you freeze when you open the front door, and there he is. he looks different. more… put together. the buzzcut makes him look mature, the way he was dressed—the way he carried himself. god and then he’s smiling at you. “hey baby…” he drawls. you throw yourself into his arms, gasping out his name, and rafe doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, gently swaying you both. “missed you so damn much,” he mumbles into your hair. apart from when he’s out with barry dealing with some ‘business’, the two of you are glued to each other. and he’s sooo touchy… <3 always has to have an arm lazily slung over your shoulders or around your waist. also likes to rest his hand on the small of your back. things definitely change between you two—in a good way.

season four. the line between ‘best friends’ or more is getting blurry between you two. but neither of you really talk about it—not yet, at least. he’s so sweet and attentive sometimes you can’t believe this is the same rafe who used to treat you like shit. now that he has his own house you spend most, if not all, of your time there. he even cleared one of his drawers out for you. you have makeup, jewelry, and other things scattered around his room or bathroom. and honestly? rafe loves it. he loves you. he doesn’t know why it took him this long to come to his senses but he’s never been more sure of anything than he is about this—about you. you’re his girl, the one person who stood by him through it all without judging him and he knows he most definitely doesn't deserve you, but he'll be damned if he lets anyone else sweep in and take you from him. rafe doesn’t outright ask you to be his girlfriend but his sudden change in behavior doesn’t go unnoticed by you. the way he calls you “baby” or “sweetheart” feels way more intimate and possessive now. ‘unintentionally’ kisses you once as he’s heading out. when you don’t immediately shut him down he keeps doing it until the quick kisses turn to making out, and making out turns into you two getting a little too carried away. gifts you a promise ring and officially asks you to be his girlfriend—proceeds to fuck you into the mattress later! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ “my girl,” he grunts against your ear, sliding in and out of you as the bed creaks beneath you both from the force of his thrusts. “never lettin’ you go baby. you hear me? you’re stuck with me forever sweetheart.”

[dolcecherub]

surprise pit stop ➶-͙˚ ༘✶

★ pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

★ tags: op81, female reader, dirty talk, established relationship, phone sex, smut, riding, belly bulging, 2024 F1 season, excessive pet name

★ yap: second oscar fic!! lowkey very happy with this one and it was so fun to write so hopefully y'all enjoy - also please ignore any mistakes its like 2am when im posting this lol :)

★ word count: 3.2k

It had been a week since you had last seen Oscar, given that the past week and the one upcoming were part of the triple header in Spain, Austria, and Silverstone. Work had been far too busy for you to be able to go, unfortunately. But he made sure to call you before bed every night, telling you how much he missed you and having you at the end of every race.

Your heart ached. 

You were used to not seeing him for a few weeks at a time during the season, but that didn’t mean it was easy. Sporadic texts, late-night calls, seeing media posts wishing you could stand next to him in support. 

The Spanish Grand Prix did not end as Oscar had wanted, finishing 7th, and although he scored points, he was evidently snappy later that night, beating himself up for the performance he gave. You listened to his rambles about the track and how the garage was insufferably hot, laughing when he made an angry quip. The conversation fizzled as he relaxed, his tone soft as he murmured about how much he missed you, eyes hazed with sleep.

Long ‘goodnights’ and murmuring ‘I love you’s’ preceded a restless sleep for you, heart aching to hold him, body filled with need. 

Days had passed, fewer chats with Oscar, given that you were both a bit busy. Wednesday dragged on, the sun setting as you finished a few last-minute emails before calling it a day in the office. You hopped into your car, ready to drive home, when a notification flashed on your phone, seeing Oscar’s name light up the screen. 

You smile subconsciously before putting the car into gear and heading home. The ride home was peaceful, excited to get home and finally chat with Oscar. Pulling into your driveway, you grab your belongings before heading inside. You drop your bag near the door, sliding off your coat and hanging it up. Walking into your bedroom, you grab a change of clothes and get settled for bed before grabbing your phone. 

Tapping the notification, your chat with Oscar opens, your breath hitching as you process what he has sent you. His first text read, “thinking ‘bout you baby” and “I miss you.” 

What really got your heart racing was the picture that followed. 

A mirror selfie with Oscar sat on the corner of his hotel bed, shirtless, his hair tousled from a shower. His legs were spread, pyjama pants doing very little to hide the hard-on he was sporting. His biceps bulged, holding up his body as he leaned back a bit, abs clenched. Your mouth watered, imagining yourself settled between his legs, pleasing him. You sent a text back, body flushing with need. 

"Fuck Osc, that’s not fair"

He reads it immediately, typing back a quick emoji, before you see his contact pop up on your screen, an incoming call. You answer right away, giddy to hear his voice. 

“Hi, baby,” His voice is soft and raspy, your mind immediately calming, smiling at the nickname. “Hi, Osc, I miss you.”

“I miss you, wish you were here, bed’s empty without you,” 

“Only thing you’re missing?” You tease, looking back at the picture he sent you. He chuckles lowly as you hear rustling around. 

“You know exactly what I’m missing, darling.”  Your thighs clench at his tone, cheeks flushing red. You slide off your top, pushing your tits together and snapping a quick picture, sending it to Oscar. He groans, “Fuck. I’d do anything to have you here right now, baby,” His tone was needy. 

“Yeah? Gonna touch yourself thinking about me, hm? Imagining my mouth around you?” You teased, your hand sliding across your body. He groaned, a slick noise coming from his end of the phone. Your words continued, riling him up without fail as he brought himself to release, hearing your voice. 

Sweet goodbyes and a ramble of how much he loved you followed before you both settled into bed, miles apart. 

─── ⋆⋅✩⋅⋆ ───

Thursday morning came, your mind made up. However it may be, you would be in Austria to support him. 

And so it began, calls with some of his PR team members, a message to co-workers letting them know you’d be working from home for a few days, quick packing, as well as booking the soonest flight. You had a rough plan, hoping to fly in Saturday night and surprise him after the race on Sunday, and although a last-minute flight would never be cheap, you knew it was worth it. 

You packed a small suitcase with essentials, as well as making sure to pack Oscar’s McLaren jersey and a cute lingerie set. You made sure to do a bit of housekeeping, not having booked a return flight just yet. 

Calls with Oscar continued, the surprise nearly slipping off your tongue a handful of times. Thankfully, a team member at McLaren had been able to snag a paddock pass to ensure you’d be able to watch the race while also letting you know his hotel information so you could wait for him after the race. 

Saturday had come quicker than expected, and next thing you know, you were settled into a hotel room in the same hotel as Oscar, antsy that he was so close yet so far. He tried to call, and you brushed it off, saying you weren’t feeling well and planned on sleeping early. He bought it, thankfully, wishing you a good night’s sleep and hoping you felt better in the morning. 

The sprint race had gone well for Oscar, placing second and scoring a few more points. However, qualifying was far less exciting, having placed seventh on the starting grid. You tucked into bed, falling asleep fairly quickly, excited for the next day. 

─── ⋆⋅✩⋅⋆ ───

You woke up early, snagging a quick breakfast in the room before getting ready. You popped on Oscar’s jersey atop the lingerie you had brought, sliding on a pair of baggy jeans and a hat. You left your hair naturally, with slight waves and a light face of makeup, spritzing yourself in Oscar’s favourite perfume.

You grabbed the paddock pass you were given the night before and slipped out of the hotel room, making your way to the track.

You made sure to time it so that Oscar would likely already be in his car before you arrived to ensure he wouldn’t see you. Some of the team members smiled at your presence, knowing it would make Oscar happy. 

─── ⋆⋅✩⋅⋆ ───

The race had gone better than you could have imagined, Oscar having started seventh and finishing second. You cheered loudly, proud of his performance and excited to treat him after the race.

As he finishes up with post-race interviews, you slink back to the hotel, grabbing the key card to his room and slipping in. His room looked lived in as you navigated it, sliding off your jeans and folding them on the chair before slipping into his bed. 

It felt like hours had passed when you received a text from a friend on the McLaren team letting you know that Oscar had just left the paddock and was headed back to his hotel room. Your heart sped up with excitement, hands brushing through your hair, trying to fix any loose hairs. 

The black set you had on underneath was one of Oscar’s favourites, the lace cupping your breasts perfectly, the colour stark against your skin. You hoped his jersey on top would make him feel some sort of way. 

You heard a click, the door swinging open as Oscar sighed, he hadn’t seen you yet, toeing off his shoes at the doorway before walking in. He emptied his pockets onto the table and tousled his hair as you shifted in bed, his eyes snapping to the motion and sound. 

Your eyes locked with his, a small smile adorning your face. His eyes widened in shock, “Oh my god,” He murmured before nearly catapulting himself into bed with you, arms wrapping tightly around you as he buried his head into your neck. 

“You’re here,” He mumbled, placing a delicate kiss to the crevice between your neck and shoulder. 

“Congratulations, Oscar, you did so well. I’m so proud of you.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him close and praising him. 

“You watched?” He said shocked, pulling his head back to look at you. You pointed to the paddock pass sat atop your jeans on the chair. “You watched it live?” His voice octaves higher with surprise, “You didn’t come see me.” He pouted. 

“I wanted to surprise you, thought it would be fun,” you confessed, feeling a bit nervous suddenly. He dipped his head back into your shoulder, laughing. “I’m so happy you’re here you have no idea.” He spoke, trailing kisses up from your neck to your jaw as you lightly scratched his back, body still cooling from the race. 

His lips met yours, slow and hungry, his body impossibly pressing against yours. Days of desire pouring into his kiss, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip as his teeth nipped your lip. You gasp, letting his tongue in as it licked over your own. Your hand trailing up into his hair, tugging lightly as he groans into your mouth, your thighs clenching at the noise.

His thigh slid between yours, pressing against you, Oscar’s body on top of yours, his tongue swirling with yours messily.

You whined against his mouth, heart racing as his hands slid across your hips holding them tight. You pull back to look up at him, lips glossy, eyes dark with want and his cheeks flushed. 

“You look so good in my shirt,” He mumbled, his lips trailing delicately on your neck as his hands pushed the shirt up, revealing your black lace panties that were nearly drenched from his kisses. “For me, darling?” he asked teasingly, his hands leaving the jersey midway up your stomach before grabbing your thighs and pushing them a bit farther apart. 

You nod, biting your lip as his fingers brush the inside of your thigh. “You’re so sweet to me,” He murmurs, giving short and sweet kisses between words. Your hands trail down his chest, fingers grabbing the waistband to his shorts, tugging open the button and sliding down the zipper. You peered up at him, his eyes following your hands, cock throbbing. Sliding out from under him, you stand to the side of the bed, his expression a little confused. 

“Sit back,” You asserted, grabbing your hair and pushing it to one side. Oscar swiftly moved, sitting back against the headboard, his legs spread as you climbed back onto the bed, sitting on your knees between his legs, leaning forward toward him. He watches you intently, grabbing his shirt and slipping it off, tossing it to the side, his heart racing. You tugged the top part of his shorts down, his boxers tight against his bulge as his breath hitched at the contact. You looked up at him, tugging his boxers down and pulling his cock out, tip leaking. 

You wrap a hand around him, thumb rubbing the slick precum from his tip over his cock as you pump him a few times, Oscar groaning. He slips a hand into your hair, brushing it away from your face. Leaning forward, you slide your tongue up the bottom side of his cock, eyes locked with his as you wrap your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around him and savouring the tip. He lets out a ragged groan, “Fuck, baby.”

You moaned at his words, the noise reverberating through him. You let a little spit dribble onto his cock before sliding his length into your mouth, hands pumping whatever you can’t fit. “Shit, look at you,” Oscar mumbled, his hands tangling into your hair tighter, pushing your head down slightly as you gagged. Your head came back up, hands still pumping him wetly as you caught your breath, Oscar’s leg twitching at the sensations. His hand quickly stopped yours, letting out a sigh, his reddened tip leaking. Your thighs clenched, feeling sticky from your arousal. 

“What?” You giggled shyly, hands still slowly pumping him despite the resistance. “You’re gonna make me cum, darling,” He chuckled breathlessly. You opened your mouth, slapping his cock on your tongue a few times before slipping it back into your mouth all the way, your nose touching his body, his cock throbbing. Oscar let out a guttural groan, head slamming back against the headboard at the sight of you.

You pulled him out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you to him as you licked your lips. Oscar lifted his hips, sliding his shorts and boxer off in one smooth go, tossing them with his shirt as he beckons you closer. Crawling onto his lap, his hands grab your hips pulling you closer as his lips landed on yours, tongue sliding against yours, hotly tasting himself on your tongue. 

You moan into his mouth, feeling him press against your core. “Take ‘em off baby,” Oscar says, snapping the edge of your panties against your hip. Obeying, you tug them off, thighs slick with arousal as you drop the panties to the side before climbing back onto his lap. His hands return to your hips, your wet heat sliding against his cock, teasing him as he groans. His hands slide back, squeezing your ass and pushing you forward. 

“You look so good in my jersey, my name on your back,” his lips suckling light marks on your neck as you grind your hips. You get up on your knees, his cock popping up, tip meeting your entrance. Oscar grabs himself, rubbing against you teasingly wetting himself as you begin to settle. His tip slides in, your mind dizzying at the stretch. You slide your hands to his shoulders, slowly taking inch by inch till your hips meet his, Oscar mezmerized by you. 

“You’re so big, Osc, fuck,” You whine out, moving your hips back and forth getting comfortable with the stretch. 

“You can take it, baby,” He assures, his hand rubbing over the slight bulge evident on your tummy under his jersey, his eyes hooked onto it watching himself inside you, the other moving your hips. 

You whimper at the pressure, finally moving your hips up and down slowly, Oscar grabbing your hips as he groans, watching you bounce. Your hips moved slowly in a menacing pace, unintentionally teasing him. You clenched around him, moaning as he fucks up into you, hands holding you down. 

“C’mon baby, you’re doing so well for me,” He praised as you whined, “You want me to help you darling, need my help, hm?” 

You leaned forward, ass pushing back a little as your forehead fell to his shoulder, “Please Oscar, n-need it,” You whimpered, begging him as his cock throbbed. His hands tighten on your hips, surely leaving marks for the next morning. He pumps his hips up into you, your mouth leaving sloppy kisses on his neck as he hits a spot inside you making you whimper loudly. 

“Look at you taking my cock, darling.” He praises, hips pistoning at a brutal pace, your mind dizzy as you fail to answer, whimpers and moans spilling out, your hands grabbing his shoulders. 

“Missed you so much,” He groaned, slowing down his thrusts to a teasing pace dragging his cock before thrusting back up into you. “Osc… fuck.” You moaned, looking at him with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. He continued murmuring sweet praises, a knot building tight in your stomach, your inner thighs sticky as Oscar continued his dizzying thrusts. 

“You’re so good for me darling,” He groaned, his abs clenching, “Treating me to this sweet pussy, letting me fuck you like this,” His filthy words making your head spin as you whimpered. His cock filled you deliciously, feeling yourself clench around him as you tumbled closer to the edge. 

His jersey clung to your damp skin, your mouth slack as he fucked you, the slow drag of his cock leaving you breathless. “Pretty girl,” He mumbled, suckling another mark onto your neck before leaving a soft kiss to your lips, your mind far too fuzzy to kiss him back hungrily. 

“Osc I- fuck,” You whine, “I’m gonna cum,” You whimpered, your stomach tightening with need. “Cum for me baby, c’mon,” He teased, his one hand sliding between your thighs, rubbing slow circles on your clit as he continued thrusting his hips up into you. 

You feel your legs shake, clenching around him as you let go, mind fuzzy as you nearly collapse onto him, moans and the filthy slap of skin filling the air. Oscar’s hip faltered slightly, feeling you cum around him but he continued, his cock throbbing with need to finish.

“Your pussy was made for me, baby. Gonna let me cum?” He groaned, hips thrusting faster with need. You whimper at his words, too far gone to speak as you nod your head, biting your lip. 

“Let me fill that sweet pussy, darling.” Oscar moans breathlessly. His hips stutter as you tighten around him, his cock twitching inside you, warmth filling you as he groans. Oscar’s head drops to your shoulder, hips slowly fucking into you as his release filled you. He brings his head up, placing a sloppy kiss on your lips, hand sliding comfortingly against your back as you feel his cum drip out of you and coat your thighs, a filthy sight that Oscar revelled at. 

“You’re so good to me, darling, I love you,” He praised, pushing the damp hairs off of your forehead and placing delicate kisses across your face as he pulled out slowly. You whined at the loss, feeling empty as he leaked out of you.

He let out a sigh, holding you closer, before moving to get up, still holding onto you. He places you down on the bed gently, quickly grabbing a cloth to wipe both of yourselves down before getting settled for bed. Slipping on a pair of boxers, he grabbed an extra t-shirt for you, helping you peel off the jersey and slip on the t-shirt before bed. 

Oscar slid into bed with you, your eyes fighting to stay open as you curled yourself around him, leg propping onto his hip, his arms bringing your body closer as he gently kissed you. 

“I love you, Osc.” you mumbled, kissing the tip of his nose before nuzzling it with your own. A small smile on his face as he pulled you impossibly closer. “I’m happy you came,” He spoke, cuddling into your hair, you couldn’t help the joke. “Oh, I am too.” You giggled, twisting his words lightheartedly. He chuckled, squeezing your hip at the innuendo, placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head before you both silently lulled to sleep. 

─── ⋆⋅✩⋅⋆ ───

Silverstone wasn’t all that bad, Oscar having placed fourth. 

Perhaps you were good luck, you thought, as Oscar ran over to you following the race, kissing you like he had never been happier.  

─── ⋆⋅✩⋅⋆ ───

[fastandcarlos]

Baby Perez Is Mine : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: after getting to know your brother’s team mate max, you soon find that it’s more than just a friendship that’s struck between the two of you

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by schecoperez, lilymhe and 179,583 others

ynperez: always a joy to pay a visit to red bull and make sure everyone knows that mexicans obviously do it best ❤️💙

27,058 comments

username1: I just love how supportive yn is of sergio and his whole career!

schecoperez: thanks for always making sure there’s at least one sergio fan in the crowd 😘

ynperez: @/schecoperez always got your back brother 🫶🏻

username2: it’s nice to see someone in a red bull hat with two 1s on it for a change

maxverstappen1: tell that to the driver’s standings loser 😂

ynperez: @/maxverstappen1 we don’t accept any perez slander in this house thank you!!

username3: it’s the way she just pops up at all these random races for me 😂

carlossainz55: want me to show you the spanish way? 🇪🇸

ynperez: @/carlossainz55 can assure you no one is as smooth as a perez 😏

username4: thank you yn for always being sergio’s number one fan 🥺

username5: ngl max gives me annoying middle sibling vibes when he’s with these two 😂

lilymhe: sorry you were at the race and didn’t think to come and see me 😤

ynperez: @/lilymhe sorryyyyy it was just too busy, I promise next time I’m yours 🥺

username6: the way that most of the drivers and wags love yn more than anyone else speaks volumes 🔊

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lancestroll, redbullracing and 582,048 others

schecoperez: such a proud weekend to be racing at home with so much support. thank you to everyone in mexico for all the love 🇲🇽🏎️

37,048 comments

maxverstappen1: super race and lots of points, let’s push on to the end of the season 💪🏻

username7: no one can convince me that these two aren’t secretly the cutest pairing on the grid

ynperez: most of that love was from me btw, loudest in the grandstand by far 🥲

schecoperez: @/ynperez have I mentioned your the best baby sister ever 🤔

username8: I hope you heard us nice and loud whilst you were driving around today sergio 🫶🏻

username9: thank you for always bringing the party to the podium ❤️

estebanocon: you should race at home more often if you perform like that

username10: such an incredible weekend, we’re all so proud of you sergio!!

landonorris: idk where that hat came from but I need one asap 😂

schecoperez: @/landonorris we don’t just give these out to any random guy you know

username11: I’m not ready for this weekend to be over already…

danielricciardo: huge race buddy, congrats on some super points 💪🏻

username12: not me not wondering when we’ll next get to see yn and sergio together again 💔

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 2,859,261 others

maxverstappen1: no better way to spend a week off than exploring the world with my favourite person 🥺 (who also bribes me with beer to take selfies so it’s worth it 😭🍺)

274,261 comments

charles_leclerc: fancy telling us who the lucky girl is that’s taken the max verstappen off the market!?!?

username13: I was not prepared for max to drop this bomb on us today

alex_albon: look at you being all mysterious and secretive on instagram 😂

redbullracing: all we needed to do was buy a beer to stop you giving admin a breakdown with your shocking social posts…

maxverstappen1: @/redbullracing admin can comment when you’ve got more followers than me ☺️

username14: whoever this girl is, she must make max incredibly weak for him to agree to take a selfie 😂

landonorris: congrats on being able to finally take a half decent photo 👏🏻

username15: boyfriend era max can be welcomed with open arms!!

schecoperez: we work together every week and fail to mention you’ve got a girlfriend 🙄

maxverstappen1: @/schecoperez you have to promise not to kill me if I share…

schecoperez: @/maxverstappen1 you can’t tell me something like that and not elaborate!!

danielricciardo: if I knew beer was all it took I’d have got you social media trained years ago 🤦🏻‍♂️

username16: who is this favourite person and how can I take their place???

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 193,747 others

ynperez: turns out the dutch just as good as the mexicans 🥺🏎️

38,372 comments

username17: wtf this is the plot twist that I did not see coming 😱

schecoperez: still getting over this absolute betrayal btw 😭

ynperez: @/schecoperez I promise you’re still secretly my number one 🫶🏻

landonorris: wasn’t happy with f1 driver in your life so decided to pull another too ☺️

username18: and now I remember why yn is so popular with all the other drivers 😂

danielricciardo: last time I checked max was mine and now you come along and stolen him 😭

carmenmmundt: why do i feel like I’ve blinked and missed a whole load of chapters here???

ynperez: @/carmenmmundt answer your damn phone and I’ll fill you in!!

username19: why do I feel like I’ve missed out on so many chapters in the story here

alex_albon: I hope you’re only making reference to their driving in that caption 🤔

ynperez: @/alex_albon @/lilymhe come get your man and his head out the gutter please!!

username20: rip sergio 😭 he must be a ruined man right now

username21: how did none of us actually see this coming with how close they are??

flavy.barla: emergency date night for all the details is pending…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri and 327,509 others

ynperez: for all the red bull girlies terrified I had ruined the team forever, here’s the three of us are playing a game of padel to remind you that red bull are gonna win the championship again this year! ❤️💙

52,927 comments

username22: if there’s one person who always believes in red bull it’s yn 🤩

maxverstappen1: you nearly ruined the relationship by picking to play with sergio instead of me 😭

ynperez: @/maxverstappen1 you were better than the two of us combined anyway 😂

username23: why do I feel like yn was more there to be cheerleader than actually player??

landonorris: wondering where my invite to this game was??

danielricciardo: @/landonorris funnily enough the text didn’t arrive on my phone either

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo @/landonorris I thought it was just me who’d been forgotten 💔

ynperez: @/oscarpiastri that’s because you’re so bad you make me look good at padel 😂

username24: I also want to be part of these padel games fyi 🙌🏻

schecoperez: that’s what we call a fake smile trying to not be sick watching the two of you together 🤮

ynperez: @/schecoperez you love us both really 💙

lancestroll: when they said red bull was a happy family, I didn’t realise quite how close that family was 😂

username25: these photos summarise the team perfectly, sergio just happy to be here whilst max is super focused and competitive!

georgerussell63: next time we’ll have to play a game together

carmenmmundt: @/georgerussell63 @/ynperez we can sit and gossip whilst the boys play more like 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by schecoperez, charles_leclerc and 3,842,162 others

maxverstappen1: so proud to win another world title and do it with my best friend right by my side. thank you for all the incredible support this year, red bull fans really are the best ❤️🏆💙

482,172 comments

ynperez: couldn’t be happier to be there by your side today, congratulations on an incredible season darling 💞

maxverstappen1: @/ynperez you’re the best prize to come out of this season still 💞

username26: were all so proud of you max, yet another incredible season 🎉

landonorris: next year I’m coming for your ass just so you know 😉

username27: this thread of photos must have sergio raging in his driver’s room somewhere

schecoperez: don’t remember my sister being the one to race alongside you all season 🤷🏻‍♂️

username28: never in doubt, we all always knew you’d do it max!!

danielricciardo: I always knew you’d do it all those years ago…and look where we are now!

username29: best friend 🥺 if you listen closely you can hear sergio’s heart breaking…

charles_leclerc: it’s been an honour as always to race alongside you this season! 👏🏻

username30: it can’t be denied that these two are just the cutest!

username31: who knew a dutch and a mexican could be so well suited 🤩

redbullracing: our champion and our driver, we couldn’t be happier to have you with us max ❤️💙

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynperez, schecoperez and 3,117,058 others

maxverstappen1: turns out I forgot to mention the other perez in my life, so shout out to sergio for being the best teammate ever and introducing me to his smoking hot sister 🔥

317,028 comments

schecoperez: this was almost a cute caption until I read that last sentence…and now I want to knock you out 🥊

maxverstappen1: @/schecoperez just remember the bit where I told you you were the best teammate ever 😘

username32: how have I only just noticed how chaotic this duo is 😂

username33: admin hurry up and bring us more content from these two asap!

username34: max better start running whilst sergio hunts down his ass

username35: I wonder if yn realises what she’s started with these two now 🤔

username36: how has it taken me this long to realise how good of a team these two are 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 328,018 others

ynperez: best date ever to watch my best friend get married 🥂 so happy to spend your special day with you sergio and carolina 💞

38,472 comments

username37: you two look incredible…congratulations sergio and carolina 💞

schecoperez: hopefully it’ll be you guys next and we’ll be welcoming max into the family 🥺

maxverstappen1: @/schecoperez is this you saying you want to be brothers in law??? 🥹

schecoperez: @/maxverstappen1: let’s not get too ahead of ourselves now…

landonorris: @/schecoperez I agree, hurry up and put a ring on it verstappen 😂

username38: I can’t get over how adorable the two of you are together 😭

landonorris: who knew you two scrubbed up so well!?

ynperez: @/landonorris we just hide it well 😇

username39: is this extended invite sergio finally accepting of max!?

estebanocon: I’ve never heard a sister of the groom speech before, but you really set quite the high standard 😂

username40: can’t wait for these three to keep annoying each other forever 😂

danielricciardo: damn yn idk what you’ve done to max but he’s never looked hotter 🔥

ynperez: @/danielricciardo careful otherwise people might think it’s you two who are dating…

username41: this feels like a competition to pick which is the cuter couple…

oscarpiastri: looks like you guys all had the most magical day 🥂

username42: you know I secretly think sergio is thrilled that they’re together, he just hides it well 😂

maxverstappen1: feeling pretty lucky to have the most beautiful date in the world, my stunning girl 💞

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 it’s easy to look good with you by my side 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[checkeredflagggs]

Daddy Daughter Dates

Pairing: platonic george russell x daughters (implied george russell x wife!reader)

summary: george takes his daughters out for a daddy/daughters date day

a/n:this was requested and man I love it

Masterlist | Taglist

georgerussell63

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, landonorris, lewishamilton, and 1,722,183 others

georgerussell63: A wonderful start to a lovely day dedicated to my girls.

view all comments

user1: Awwwww Russell girls sighting!

↳user2: Love how private George and Y/N keep the girls

↳user1: oh absolutely! But it makes it even more special when we see them

landonorris: awww how are my beautiful goddaughters doing?

↳alex_albon: your?? Iris and Ivy are MY goddaughters

↳yourusername: 🤨🙄😑

↳landonorris: nu-uh you can’t take this away from me!

↳alex_albon: can’t take something you never had

↳user3: ok but who actually is the godfather?

↳lewishamilton: me 🖤 liked by yourusername

user4: those pancakes are so so cute!!

↳user5: right? I want an animal themed breakfast made for me by George Russell

↳user6: tbh I’d just take the breakfast

↳user7: I want the George Russell

↳yourusername: Nope! All mine

lewishamilton: sending along some good thoughts for the day — make sure to spoil the girls for me 🫶🏽

↳georgerussell63: I’ve been instructed to tell you that you’ve been summoned to visit.

↳lewishamilton: well if I’ve been summoned…😂

↳user8: oh Lewis and kids are so cute together…

yourusername: I see I’ve been forgotten today…

↳lilymhe: I’d never forget you babe

↳francisca.cgomes: neither would I

↳alexandrasaintmleux: I could never

↳georgerussell63: I didn’t forget you, my love but today is all about me and our girls

↳yourusername: acceptable, I guess

↳georgerussell63: lilymhe, francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux Please stop flirting with my wife.

↳francisca.cgomes: never! liked by yourusername

georgerussell63

liked by alex_albon, landonorris, yourusername and 1,293,016 others

georgerussell63: Time to prove I still got it!

view all comments

user9: ok but girl dad George just makes sense…

user10: man I wish I could get my hair to look that nice…

maxverstappen1: I have to say, you do good hairstyles

↳georgerussell63: Thank you Max.

↳yourusername: He took classes when we found out we were having girls

↳georgerussell63: Of course I did! I needed to be able to do their hair for them. I wasn’t going to leave it all to you, all the time

↳yourusername: Oh, I know my love — I’m very happy that you did

↳maxverstappen1: good for you for doing more than the bare minimum but on my comment thread? Really?

landonorris: my goddaughters rocking better hairstyles than I do…

↳yourusername: Really? Again?

↳alex_albon: I’d say that isn’t hard but I simply don’t know what you mean because they’re MY goddaughters

↳lewishamilton: I’ve never seen 2 people be more wrong

↳user11: Forget watching the season Netflix, I need you to film these 3 fighting for godfather rights

user12: ok but George taking lessons so he could do his daughters hair?

↳user13: you’re speaking my language now. That’s so precious

georgerussell63

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 1,424,628 others

georgerussell63: We got some shopping done — Iris and Ivy insisted on outfit and hairstyles changes throughout the day

view all comments

user14: omg so precious

user15: i love this family so much

↳user16: they really are the cutest

charles_leclerc: Des filles si précieuses!

↳georgerussell63: You’ll have to visit soon — they’ve been asking to see Leo and Alex again!

↳alexandrasaintmleux: I’m already scheduling for it, I need some quality time with my favorite Russell girls

↳yourusername: Does next weekend work?

↳alexandrasaintmleux: Absolutely!

↳francisca.cgomes: ohh! Room for one more?

↳yourusername: Obviously!

landonorris: I see that they’ve inherited my slay!

↳user17: that’s…that’s not how that works. You do know that’s not how that works right?

↳yourusername: Lando Norris…I’m banning you from the Russell household

↳landonorris: what??? Why??

↳yourusername: You’re making it seem like you’re the father!

↳georgerussell63: I agree with yourusername. Go away.

↳alex_albon: ha!

lewishamilton: glad to see they’re such fashionistas already!

↳yourusername: Oh definitely — outfits have to match with their accessories and they won’t repeat an outfit exactly

↳user18: oh that’s so adorable

georgerussell63

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, alexandrasaintmleux, and 2,013,124 others

georgerussell63: A small picnic lunch before we head home — a chance to reflect on how lucky I am, how proud I am of my beautiful girls, how much I love them, and how grateful I am to be their father.

view all comments

yourusername: Awww George, we’re the lucky ones really — I’ve loved every minute of my life with you and you’ve been the most amazing father liked by georgerussell63

↳georgerussell63: My love, no. I am very much the lucky one here. Thank you so much for agreeing to marry me, to share the rest of our lives together. And so many thanks for giving us our beautiful daughters.

↳user20: why am I crying?

↳user21: no for real — this is such a beautiful moment and it’s on a post about a picnic lunch??

alex_albon: dad George coming clutch liked by yourusername

alexandrasaintmleux: Quelle belle famille!

landonorris: always new you had it in you!

↳yourusername: You’re still on thin ice Norris!

lewishamilton: making fatherhood look easy mate

↳georgerussell63: It’s been the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

↳yourusername: It really is for him — like a duck to water

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, and 2,081,263 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: I’ve finally been allowed to join in on the family fun (and I’ve banished George to the couch while I cuddle with my girls)

view all comments

alex_albon: is he pouting?

↳yourusername: Yes.

↳georgerussell63: I was not!

↳yourusername: You absolutely were.

maxverstappen1: p has just let me know she wants a blanket fort and Disney movie night

↳yourusername: The next time we’re all in Monaco together, we’ll have a sleepover?

↳maxverstappen1: she’s very excited now

user22: that is one of the most extra blanket forts I’ve ever seen

↳user23: and I love it??

↳yourusername: My thanks — I’m an expert in construction.

↳user23: what’s your secret?

↳yourusername: they type of blankets — start thick and sturdy then go light and thinner.

landonorris: eeehhhhh can I get an invite?

↳yourusername: No.

↳georgerussell63: No.

↳landonorris: meanies!

alex_albon: room for me and lily? We miss the girls and we’re down for disney

↳yourusername: Absolutely!

↳georgerussell63: You know where the key is.

↳landonorris: you muppets!!

Taglist

@raizelchrysanderoctavius @anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @charlesgirl16 @anunstablefangirl @evie-119 @sugarfreerbr @princessesgarden @tukes @mayax2o07 @teti-menchon0604 @galaxygurlll @star73807-blog @shelbyteller @ihaveitprinteddout @lilymaleshka @kuolonsyoja @allthings-fandom @mountainshuman @hannahmotors10 @moonypixel

[eufezco]

I saw your Bridgerton requests were open !

Can I do one for Benedict they’re courting but suddenly he starts spending more time with Tilly so reader starts to distance herself from him and starts to spend more time with Colin and Benedict gets jealous and pulls her away from Colin maybe they’re dancing or something. And pulls her to another room and apologizes and maybe smut occurs or something as a part of his apology ?

If not that’s ok I thought I’d ask!

YOU BELONG WITH ME

—Are you leaving with Colin? —Benedict asked you in disbelief.

You had been talking with Anthony and Kate about your intentions to join Colin on his next trip and it seemed that the older Bridgerton brother had wasted no time in letting Benedict know.

Now you were in a room of the Queen's palace, alone with Benedict and the piano in the center of it. He had practically begged you to give him a few minutes of your time, had interrupted your dance with Colin, and led you by the hand into that room. You and Benedict were the match of the season so the Queen had managed to distract the other guests while you sneaked out of the ball.

—How is it that you care?

—He is my brother.

You raised your eyebrows, hoping for some further explanation.

—You cannot leave with him —Benedict stated.

You shook your head, keeping eye contact with him. His blue eyes looked back at you and you just wished he could see the anger growing on your face.

—Where have you been these past days, Benedict?

He immediately knew what you were talking about.

It was true that he had not been visiting you during calling hours, he had not asked you out for walks, he had not picked flowers from the garden of Aubrey Hall to bring them to you while he had tea with your mama. He hadn't even bothered to put his name on your card tonight to secure a dance with you.

—I have been visiting a friend —He answered you.

—Since when are you friends with Tilley Arnold?

Benedict huffed a laugh. —Why is it that you care so much?

—Because you were courting me! —If it hadn't been for the loud music in the ballroom you would have sworn that the rest of the guests would have heard you. —A couple of days with Tilley Arnold have been enough for you to forget about me?

—I do not know, perhaps you can tell me since you are the one leaving with my brother to another country —Benedict said ironically.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. On another occasion, you would have appreciated Benedict's lack of seriousness but right in that moment you were angry and you just wanted to get out of that room. You turned your back on Benedict to leave but on your way to the door, he grabbed your hand and made your body turn to him. Your face showed disappointment and anger and he knew he couldn't let you go like that.

—I apologize if I have ever caused you to doubt how I feel for you.

You took a deep breath through your nose. You were still angry but his words definitely made you feel better.

—My feelings for you have not changed —. He continued saying. Benedict began to walk slowly and you took a few steps backwards trying to escape from him until you bumped your back against the door. That didn't stop him from moving towards you. —And I don't think Tilley or anyone else can possibly change the way you make me feel.

Benedict's eyes moved from yours to your lips and you knew what he was about to do.

—Do not kiss me, Benedict, not now.

He slowly nodded, one of his hands pinched your chin so you would look at him. He gave you enough time so that if you really didn't want him to kiss you, you could push him away. —I am going to kiss you.

—Do not —You mumbled, but your eyes fixed on his lips betrayed the words that came out of your mouth and Benedict pressed his lips against yours. His hands went to cup both of your cheeks and you melted under his touch. How could you be angry with him if he kissed you with such sweetness?

Benedict's hands traveled down your body looking for your ass. He gave you a gentle squeeze and with his grip there, he started to roll up your dress to your hips, exposing your legs and making it easier for you to wrap them around his body.

Your hands were around his neck, helping him to hold your weight and also to deepen the kiss as much as possible. He guided you to the piano, his lips moving with yours and his eyes closed enjoying the kiss, so distracted by the feeling that when he sat you down on the instrument, the lid was up and your ass pressed down almost all the keys. You both jumped off each other, scared, but right after you bursted out laughing.

While you laughed and shook your heads, you got up and pushed Benedict off his shoulders, making him sit on the instrument stool. You rolled your dress up so the fabric wouldn't get in the way once you sat with a leg on each side of his body. Your cleavage was just a few centimeters away from his face and he didn't even try to make eye contact with you when your breasts, so enhanced by the corset, were practically in his face.

—My eyes are up here.

—I do know that—. Benedict said while his hands unbuttoned your dress and undid the laces of your corset.

Your body relaxed once it was freed from the uncomfortable undergarment and Benedict's lips were quick to attack your breasts. You took a deep breath and bit your lower lip, Benedict hummed while his lips left a wet trail of kisses across your breasts. Your hands moved down his body until they reached his crotch, he hissed when your fingers traced the line of his hard cock on his pants. You were quick to unbutton them and he helped you pull down his underwear just enough to free his cock.

His blue eyes were finally on yours, focusing on every little expression on your face. His lips were parted as you pulled your underwear to one side and lined him up against your entrance. You looked into his eyes and your lips half opened as his own which allowed you to share a moan when you gently lowered yourself.

Benedict kissed you again while his hands moved to hold your hips and help you move. One of your hands went to the back of his head and tugged his hair at the root. Benedict groaned but his dick jumped inside you.

—Tell me you're mine. Only mine, Benedict. Tell me I'm the only one.

You pressed your foreheads together while your hand kept a firm grip on his hair.

—I'm yours. Only yours —He said with a moan. His eyes closed shut, your body didn't stop moving up and down his cock, and his hands held you tighter. Benedict tried to catch your lips but you tugged harder on his hair and stopped him. You shook your head, that was not enough, you wanted to hear more. —You're my only one. No other woman shall have me the way you have me —He whined.

That was much better. —Good boy.

You allowed him to press his desperate lips against yours. You also allowed Benedict to set the pace, his hips fucking into you, thrusting from below to match your movements. You moaned in each other's mouths. The music was playing loudly in the ballroom but still, you swore that someone could hear your muffled scream when Benedict sunk balls deep inside you.

He kept fucking you as if he wanted everyone to notice what you two had been doing, alone, locked in some room in the Queen's palace. It was outrageous and Benedict loved it. He fucked you as if, when you finished and walked out of that room, he wanted everyone in the ton to know that his cum was dripping down your legs.

He kept fucking you as if he wanted everyone to notice what you two had been doing, alone, locked in a random room in the Queen's palace. It was outrageous and Benedict loved it. He fucked you as if, when you finished and walked out of that room, he wanted everyone in the ton to know that his cum was dripping down your legs. And by the wrinkles of the delicate fabric of your beautiful dress, they would know that it was going to be very difficult to see Benedict around Tilley Arnold anymore, and by the way Benedict wouldn't leave your side during the rest of the ball, they would know that you had no love interest in Colin Bridgerton.

Benedict would make sure that neither you nor anyone else in society would doubt how he felt about you and would assure that by putting a ring on your finger the next morning.

He came with a deep groan coming straight from his chest. You hid your face in the crook of his neck while your legs shook and you felt dizzy from all the panting. Benedict kissed your exposed shoulder as he gave you enough time to catch your breath. He caressed your back and ran his fingers over the marks left on your skin by the tight corset.

You fixed your position on his lap, sitting with your back straight. Benedict was still inside you, not allowing his cum to come out and go to waste.

—You must know that my wishes to join Colin on his trip to Greece have not changed.

Benedict huffed a laugh and kissed your lips. You smiled as well.

—Then I shall join you two. What would people think if you went alone with him? —By the way he asked it you knew that he meant no harm, instead, the tone in his voice was quite sarcastic.

—Since when Benedict Bridgerton cares about what other people may think?

—Since they would be talking about my wife.

[f1cflcfic]

Won't Say I'm in Love (SMAU ft Lando Norris) part i

pairing: lando norris x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n); past carlos alcaraz x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: As a general rule, y/n does not date athletes. You've been there, done that - would not recommend. Besides, you definitely don't do love. There's no time in the world for complicated feelings when there's a career Grand Slam to be won. But what if your heart just refuses to listen?

genre: social meda/mixed au, friends to lovers

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons

January 2025

[Excerpt post-match interview]

“I’m with Channel 9, Y/N – do you think that it’s fair to say that you were struggling a little bit this match, making more unforced errors than strictly needed?”

“Well, I won in the end, didn’t I?” Y/N answers, not unkindly. “I think that she’s a very strong opponent, so I had to take some more risks, which might result in some mistakes, but it also gave me the points I needed to take two consecutive sets. So no, I wouldn’t say I was struggling.”

“How did you feel going into the tournament here, knowing that there’s also increased rivalry amongst fans of Carlos Alcaraz and yourself? Does that reach you on the court?”

“I think there’s always fan rivalries, and it’s very normal to play some matches where you know you’ve got the public support, and sometimes you won’t. One of the things I like about the Australian Open is that there’s usually a really positive atmosphere in the crowds though.”

“But there’s obviously more eyes on you than on your opponent, doesn’t that have consequences for how you mentally prepare yourself?”

Y/N sighs. “I really thought we’d exhausted these type of questions already. There’s a long season ahead of us, and I’d really like to move on.”

“Hi, I’m here with ESPN. Congrats on the win today, and for getting into the semis. Last year didn’t end on the best note, and your early exit at the US Open cost you a lot of points on the WTA rankings. But you’ve certainly shown here so far that you’re ready to get back to that #1 position. What do you think has changed?”

“I really feel like I’m in a great place, I’m physically and mentally fit and just super focused. Of course I’d like to gain back the #1 position, but it’s honestly not really my main goal. My mentality is that each of these matches is just another regular match, until I’m holding a trophy in my hands.”

"Would you also say it's easier to excel when you're not constantly having to balance a relationship on top of everything else?"

"I think that greatly depends on the other person. But I'd say that the most important relationship for me as a player is with my coach, and I'm really grateful to have had Kim's support over the past year."

"Hi, I'm with Sports Inc., congratulations on your win. We saw you hit the fastest forehand of the tournament so far. Do you ever watch back your own matches to see where you can improve?"

"Thanks so much for the nice question. I don't watch things back, but usually if I or my team feel like there's bits and pieces we want to analyse, we might look for specific footage or film during practice. And what a nice stat, I didn't know, is that across the entire tournament?"

"Fastest average speed amongst all players, fastest forehand amongst WTA players. As you probably well know, Carlos leads the ATP players. Are there other players that you look up to or get inspired by?"

There's a tick in Y/N's jaw, and she whispers something to her publicist before answering the question. "I'm really excited to potentially play Coco if I get through the next match, because we train together quite often and can really push ourselves to play our best, most fun tennis. That'd also be great for the crowd, I hope. Thanks for everyone's time today."

Semi Final Australian Open, 2025

[Excerpt interview with Oscar Piastri]

"What a joy to have another Aussie athlete here in the Rod Laver Arena, enjoying some beautiful tennis today! Is this your first time visiting the Australian Open?"

"It is, actually. Which is funny, because I grew up around here. But it's definitely been amazing to come here and soak up the atmosphere, especially so close to home. So I'm super grateful to Mastercard for the invitation."

"Are there any players in particular that you're rooting for, or hope to see advance into the final?"

"Well, I'm of course rooting for our own, but I have to say that I'm also quite excited to see Y/N L/N take the win."

"She's also good friends with your teammate Lando Norris, isn't she? Had you two met before?"

"Yeah, she's also been to a few of our races. I'm honestly surprised that I got to see her here before Lando did - they're proper mates. And Carlos, too."

"Carlos?"

"Carlos Sainz. Yeah."

"So can fans of Y/N expect to see her at one of your races this year, too? Will she be in Williams or McLaren getup?"

"Gotta be papaya, of course."

Final Australian Open, 2025

Men's Final Australian Open, 2025

A/N: welcome officially to this new universe! I'm hoping to have part ii up next week and keep to a semi-regular weekly schedule.

part ii available now here

taglist (open): @linnygirl09

♥ likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

[i-get-obsessed-fast]

Genius | Criminal Minds

.・゜✭・. Spencer Reid x Hotch’s Daughter .・゜✭・.

Summary: You make an unexpected visit to your dad’s workplace after months apart and come across the brilliant nerdy genius who you’ve secretly admired for years.

A/N: Hii! It’s me again :p please let me know your thots on this! <3 it’ll be greatly appreciated xoxo

BYR (b4 u Reid): takes place in the earlier seasons, shy spencer, strict Hotch, and outgoing daughter | none <- [warnings]

The elevator doors slid open, and you stepped out onto the floor of the BAU for the first time in years

The place had looked the exact same from when you were 18 years old visiting for the last time

You looked around and seen agents hunched over desks, conversations flowing, files scattered across every surface. It smelled the same too, coffee and ink.

You had went over to meet your dad for lunch not meaning to grab the attention of your fathers co-workers until

“No way!” A sharp squeal echoed through the floor grabbing your attention right away

You barely had time to register who it was before you were wrapped in a tight hug and the familiarity came rushing back to you “Penelope.” You giggled hugging her back

The lady standing in front of you dressed in her extravagant outfit and glittery earrings pulled away beaming at you “you didn’t tell me you were coming! I demand updates! How’s college? How’s life? How’s everything?” She questioned

Before you could give her an answer to one of her many, many questions you heard a whistle and it was no other than Derek Morgan

“Look who’s all grown up.” He said as he made his way towards you “Hi Morgan.” You smiled

Making their way next was JJ and Rossi both commenting on how long it had been, and how different you look. It was overwhelming but it felt warm, it brought you back to your teenage years wanting to be nowhere else but here

As you scanned the floor your eyes couldn’t help but land on the tall slender figure heading towards your direction

Spencer Reid

For years whenever you visited you always made sure to hang around Spencer. You had been one of the few people who actually enjoyed listening to him talk, asking him questions, encouraging his endless facts. You could’ve listened to him all day if your dad had let you.

With him finally reaching your group you can’t help but realize how much you had missed him

“Hi Spencer” you greet him he blinked like he couldn’t quite believe it was you standing right in front of him

“H-hey!” He smiled “wow, you’ve changed.”

“Yeah college will do that to you, look at you! Your hair and your clothes.” You say as you take him all in he didn’t look to different but it was noticeable

“It’s really good to see you.” He tells you and a warm feeling spread through your chest “you too.”

After catching up with everyone you had learned that your dad was in a meeting so it gave you the opportunity to look around

You had made your way to the briefing room memories flooding in “I remember you always arguing with your father about letting you in on the briefings.”

You turn to see Spencer leaning on the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, a small smile tugged at your lips

“Yeah, I wanted to hear what was going on. I’ll stand by the door trying to listen in without my dad noticing. I’d try to figure out things before you guys did.”

“Did you ever?”

“No. You guys were always too fast.”

He let out a soft laugh and made his way to you

“You’d also beg for me to tell you all the details about the cases.”

“Yeah, and you’d do it.” You look up at him, he shrugged “I’m not one to take away learning opportunities.”

A comfortable silence had fell between you two and for some reason it made you want to confess

“I also remember having the biggest crush on you.” The words had left your mouth. Spencer stiffened beside you “what?”

You grinned, amused at his reaction “Yes, when I was sixteen. It was ridiculous and honestly quite sad. I’d follow you around, ask millions of questions just so you’d keep talking to me.” You cringed remembering how you probably looked like a lost puppy

His face had turned red, and he ran a hand through his hair “wow, I never noticed.”

You laughed “Yeah well I was a little kid and you were older so I wouldn’t expect you to.”

He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably “I-I mean I did enjoy talking to you. You always listened.”

Your expression softened “Yeah. I did.”

Spencer’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, as if he was starting to see you in a new light but before either of you were able to say anything a new voice had cut through the air

“There you are!”

you both turn to see Garcia standing in the doorway, hands on her hips

“You are very hard to track down.” She dramatically said “I have been searching for you, I have new questions that need answers.”

You blinked “Answers?”

She grinned “Yup, love life. Spill.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks

Now it was Spencer who looked amused by your uncomfortableness “hmm I don’t know, I don’t really kiss and tell.” You shyly said

Spencer snorted “what? How's your love life genius?” you question “This isn't about me.”

You turned to Garcia “I guess in some ways I am my father's daughter, I let work and other things consume me. So there's nothing in that department.”

“No no no, you're young. That is a crime, an absolute crime” she sighed “Have fun with all the boys! Experiment! This is the time to do it!”

Your eyes widen “Garcia, are you interrogating my daughter?” you hear a stern sharp voice ask, and you all three turn to see Aaron Hotchner

“Who? Me? No, never.” She innocently says but your father just stared at her “okay maybe a little.”

He rubbed his temples and sighed “Go do some work Garcia.”

She pouted “Fine, but I’m not done with this conversation!” She warned as she walked out the room

You shook your head, still blushing “Well she hasn’t changed.”

Your father gave you a suspicious look but didn’t say anything instead he glanced at Spencer and than back to you “Come on. Lunch. Now”

You nodded and waved bye to Spencer before exiting the room

After lunch, with your father, you fully intended to go back home but of course, Garcia somehow convinced you that you needed to see the new upgrades to the system and of course more catching up

“My dad’s going to kill me.” You say as you enter the floor “ah no he won’t, he loves you too much.”

“Oh, you’re back.” Spencer says as you guys crossed paths “yeah. Garcia insisted.”

“Sounds about right.”

You seen Files in Spencer’s hand and couldn’t help but ask “What are you working on?”

“A geographical profile, we’re looking at a series of break-ins that might be connected to a larger network of organized crime.” He says as he adjusted the glasses on his face

“So just a light afternoon then?” He smirked and nodded “yeah, something like that.”

“Okay Reid. She’s mine, you had her earlier.” Garcia interrupted the two of you, Spencer opened his mouth but before he could say anything a deep voice spoke first “Are you bothering Reid?” Your father asks you

Your heart slightly stopped as you turn to see your father, his arms crossed and expression unreadable

“Uh no, sir.” Reid said

“Dad.” You groaned embarrassed

He rose an eyebrow “I thought you were heading home.”

“I invited her back, sorry.” Garcia says “of course you did.” You dad sighed

There was a pause, and you could feel your dads gaze shifting between you and Spencer, analyzing, assessing whatever it was that profiler dads did

“In my office now.” He said as he stared sternly at you you nodded and followed right behind him

You crossed your arms and sat on the chair in your dad’s office, he closed the door and sat right across from you “Are you going to lecture me?” You ask

“Should I be?”

You rolled your eyes “Come on.”

He exhaled, leaning back “You need to leave Spencer Reid alone.”

“What?”

“He’s different, and if you're just going-”

“Going to what? Who do you think I am?” you ask getting offended “I’m just saying. I work with him, and you're my daughter. Don't put me in a position where I have to worry about the both of you.”

You shook your head “Its fine. He doesn't think of me like that anyway…”

“I should've known. The way you followed that kid around all the time.”

You look down getting embarrassed “Okay, can I leave now? This is not what I want to talk to you about.”

He gestured towards the door and with that, you quickly escaped his office and made it a few feet away before running into Spencer

“In a hurry?” He smiled “uh kinda, my dad wants me to stop bothering you.”

“You don’t bother me, you never did.” He assured you “thanks.” You smiled

“Hey, um I was thinking. How about we go out for coffee before you leave back for school.” He suggests your heart almost stopped “oh yeah! I’m free anytime just let me know.”

He smiled “alright, I will.”

“Bye Spencer.”

“Bye.”

And with that you both go your separate ways both excited about your next hang out. . .

not proof-read! lmk if I should make a part two :)

Don't forget to check out my other fics:D

[demie90s]

Reader is Geno Auriemma’s daughter, and she’s told the team she’s off limits romantically. But that doesn’t stop like three of the players (your pick!) from falling for her anyway. They try to hide it…but Geno starts to catch on.

(PAIGE / AUBREY / KK (gone laugh you out dem draws))

Off Limits

Paige x Aubrey x KK x fem!reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: Being Geno’s daughter comes with rules. Rule #1? I’m off limits.

Warnings: Secret crushes, team tension, coach’s daughter drama, flirty chaos

Word count: ~ 0.6k

When I committed to UConn, Geno had one rule for the team—don’t touch my daughter.

He said it just like that. At the start-of-season meeting.

“Y’all can joke, y’all can be friends. But if I find out any of you are trying to date her, it’s gonna be a long-ass season.”

The room laughed. I didn’t. Because I knew what was coming. And I was already eating it up.

See, I was raised around this team. I knew the game and the girls. I knew how to flirt without flinching and tease without getting caught. I also knew exactly what I looked like walking into practice with lip gloss and thigh tattoos showing under my hoodie.

So, naturally, it didn’t take long for the tension to get weird.

Paige was the first one to fold. Of course she didn’t say anything. She never does. She’d just sit next to me in film, throw an arm across the back of my chair, and mumble things like, “You always smell like vanilla or trouble.” The first time she said it, I turned my head and smirked. She didn’t blink. Just nodded like she meant it, then went back to taking notes on the Princeton offense.

Cool. Blonde. Nonchalant final boss…be frl. But I saw how she looked at me during warmups. Like she was trying not to blink and miss something.

Then there was Aubrey. Sweet, low-key, absolutely failing at playing it off. Every time I walked into the gym, she’d sit up straighter. Eyes on me, then anywhere but me. I caught her dropping her water bottle once when I waved at her. Legit dropped it and kicked it across the floor trying to recover. She tried to play it off like she was stretching. It was… adorable.

KK though? Man. She was the worst. And by worst, I mean the funniest. That girl would flirt like it was a contact sport. Always talking about something like, “I know you Geno’s kid, but you be lookin’ grown.” Laughing at her own jokes, doing TikToks in the locker room while sneaking glances at me in the mirror.

She’d catch me in the hallway and say, “You got a ride home?”

I’d say, “Yeah.”

She’d go, “That’s wild, cause I was gon’ give you one… on my face.”

Loud as hell. And wrong for it. I’d double over laughing, and she’d just look smug while the rest of the team screamed in the background.

Meanwhile, I’m just existing. Cackling. Kekeing. Acting like shit is sweet. Geno’s pacing at practice yelling about turnovers, and I’m in the corner tying my shoes while KK stares like I’m the sun. Paige watches like she owns me. Aubrey brings me an extra protein shake and won’t meet my eyes.

And Geno…He’s starting to catch on.

The first time he paused mid-sentence at practice and looked between me and Paige, I knew he felt the shift. He narrowed his eyes. Paige stayed cool, flipping a ball in her hand. I smiled. Geno’s jaw tightened.

Two days later, KK gave me a ride to campus and walked me to the dorm. Geno called her into his office the next morning. He’s not stupid.

Last week, he caught Aubrey holding the door open for me like we were in a Nicholas Sparks movie. Said nothing. Just stared for a full five seconds.

Then finally, in the middle of team breakfast, Geno looked around and said, “Let me ask y’all something. Is ‘off limits’ confusing now? Did the definition change?”

The whole table went silent. Paige didn’t look up from her eggs. KK pretended not to hear. Aubrey turned bright red.

I took a bite of my cinnamon roll and smiled.

“Daddy, you good?”

He just stared at me. Then looked back at the team.

“I ain’t stupid. I see everything. And y’all not slick.”

KK coughed into her juice. Paige finally raised her eyes, met his stare, and said, “Cool. But like… hypothetically?”

Geno stood up and walked out. I damn near choked laughing.

Hypothetically, I’m somebody’s problem. Realistically? I’m about to be all three of theirs.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @zizi-bee-yapping @kaliblazin @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey

[willowsnook]

Comfort

request from @itznotsophia

lando norris x sainz!reader

I’d be insane not to love you

—————————————————————-

Happy tears streamed down your face as you watched your brother cross the finish line in Mexico. He needed this. Your whole family had flown out to the race, and you celebrated together in the garage before heading out to watch him on the podium.

This was the first race you had attended this year due to your hectic work schedule. Honestly, ever since you graduated high school you had only been able to make it to one or two races a season due to school or work. Right after graduating college, you took a job in investment banking in London. Your friends claimed you were a workaholic, but you loved being busy. You were living the big city career girl dream that you had always had.

Because of all this, watching Carlos take the win while you were there was even more special. He spun you around after the podium, and you laughed in his arms.

“My good luck charm,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “I’m glad you could come for this weekend.”

“Me too,” you said, smiling widely. You were the baby of the family, being 6 years younger than Carlos and the two of you had always had a special relationship despite the age gap. He really was your best friend.

Everyone headed back to the hotel to change and then head out for dinner. You changed out of your Ferrari jacket into a cuter outfit for dinner and then for what you assumed would happen afterward. Once you had freshened up, you headed down to the lobby, not seeing any of your family.

You looked around but only saw your brother’s friend and fellow driver, Lando, walking towards you. It had been a long time since you had been around him, and he definitely grew into himself over the years. You remembered when Carlos was at McLaren, you found him funny but very immature, so you never really gave him the time of day even though he followed you around like a lost puppy. He was a boy back then, but this was a man.

“Carlos had to head over there early to make the reservation time, so he tasked me with taking you,” he said once he reached you, with an easy-going smile.

“Wow, my Uber driver is professional? Lucky me,” you teased, and he chuckled. He hovered nervously near you, and you could tell he was deciding whether or not to give you a hug, so you made the decision for him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “It’s good to see you Lan.”

“You too, y/n,” he replied, stepping back with a tint of pink on his cheeks. “Shall we?”

You took his arm and followed him out the door and into his car that had been pulled up. You caught up over the car ride to dinner, and he peppered you with questions about your job and living in London.

“You should hit up Max and Pietra to hang out sometime,” he said and you shrugged, looking out the window.

“There your friends Lan,” you said. “Do you think I don’t have any friends?”

“I just know that you’d like them,” he defended. “I’m sure you are friends with everyone you meet.”

You smiled at the compliment and agreed to text Pietra when you were back to grab a coffee or something. You and Lando were the last to arrive, and he beat you to the seat next to Carlos, throwing you a cheeky smile over his shoulder. You rolled your eyes but sat beside him, across from Rebecca. Dinner was full of conversation and laughter, and your heart felt full.

After everyone finished up, the group headed to a nearby club to actually start celebrating. There were tons of paparazzi at the entrance, and you fiddled anxiously with your hands. This is something you did not miss about being around your brother. Lando was sitting next to you in the car and grabbed your hand to make you stop fidgeting.

“Just stick to my side yeah?” He said, and you nodded. Pulling to the front, he got out and handed his keys off before coming to your door. You let him take your hand and move into his side, his arm holding you close as he shielded you from the flashes. You smiled appreciatively at him once you made it to the group.

“Thanks Lan,” you said and he smiled back. Your brother was watching this interaction like a hawk but you missed seeing Rebecca elbow him in the ribs to get him to stop. Grabbing her arm, you dragged her to the bar to get a drink.

“So Lando huh,” she teased and you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hummed, refusing to look at her.

“Carlos said that he still looks at you like he did back when you were 19.”

“No he doesn’t,” you argued. “He is my brother’s best friend and that’s all.”

She gave you a small smirk, clearly not believing you, and you groaned before handing her a shot. “No more talking about him.”

An hour later you were very tipsy and jumping around dancing with your family. You were too drunk to notice that Lando had been watching you while sipping on his drink, half listening to Carlos. Carlos however, did notice.

“Are you serious mate?” He asked, and Lando’s attention snapped back to your brother, who was glaring at him. “Eye-fucking my sister in front of me?”

Lando’s face blushed a deep red. “I am not.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Right. And I'm not a Formula 1 driver."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry. I know she's your sister. I just... I can't help it. She's amazing, Carlos. She always has been"

Carlos's expression softened slightly. "I know she is. But Lando, be careful. She's not just some girl you can mess around with. She's family."

"I would never hurt her," Lando said earnestly. "You know me better than that."

Just then, you stumbled over to them, giggling. "What are you boys talking about so seriously? It's a party!"

You threw your arms around both of their shoulders, oblivious to the tension. Carlos shot Lando a warning look over your head.

"Nothing important, hermanita," Carlos said, and you turned your attention to Lando.

"Dance with me?" you asked, holding out your hand. Lando hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting to Carlos, who just rolled his eyes and stalked away towards Rebecca.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he said, but you could see the longing in his eyes.

"Come on, Lan. It's just a dance," you insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the crowd.

As you moved together to the beat, you felt the heat between your bodies intensify. His hands reached your waist, and you turned around, leaning your back into his chest. Feeling his breath hot on your neck, you turned your head up to look at him. His pupils were blown wide with desire,e but you knew he was holding back.

“You are asking for your brother to literally rip my head off,” he complained and you laughed loudly.

“Tell me you don’t want me,” you said, turning your whole body back to face him.

“You know I do,” he said huskily. Moving on your tiptoes, you pressed your lips gently against his, and you smirked against his lips as you heard your name being angrily called out.

“I’d start running now,” you told Lando as his eyes widened seeing Carlos marching towards the two of you. He gave you one last kiss before peeling off.

“Dios mio y/n,” your brother said, putting both his arms on your shoulders to shake you. “Remember what I told you when you were 18? No F1 drivers!"

“I’m not 18 anymore Carlos,” you said in a singsong voice to him. “But don’t worry, we don’t even see each other outside of you.”

“Keep it that way,” he said sternly.

The next morning you woke up hungover and embarrassed. You dug Lando’s number out of your contacts list and shot him a quick text apologizing to which he replied you can kiss me anytime ;)

—————————————————————

Life went back to normal when you got back to London with the exception of talking to Lando more. You had been casually texting, and you started to look forward to the end of your workdays to hear about his day.

After the Brazil race he had been radio silent. You had sent him a text right after, telling him to keep his head up and that he still was amazing but he had only liked the message. Honestly, you didn’t think much about his silence; you had only just reconnected, so you were very used to life without Lando Norris in it.

The following week, you had finally texted Pietra and met up with her for happy hour. It had been a long time since you had seen her, having met her through Lando all those years ago. The two of you spent hours catching up before he came up.

“Have you heard from Lando?” She asked while you were getting out your purse to pay your tab.

“Not since before the Brazil race, why?” You asked, meeting her worried eyes.

“He had mentioned that you guys had been talking more after Mexico, so I hoped he would reach out to you after Brazil.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” Pietra said, biting her lip. “He hasn’t really been responding to Max and hasn’t been on any of the games. Max is worried. Could you call him or something?”

“Why me?” You asked, surprised. Pietra didn’t say anything for a minute, clearly battling with something internally.

“He’s different around you,” she finally said. “I think he might actually answer if you call.”

Her words sat with you the rest of the night, and as you were getting ready for bed, you decided to give in. You leaned against your headboard and hit the Facetime button, prepared to be declined. Right at the last ring, Lando’s face filled your screen, and your heart sank. He looked terrible. Dark circles around his eyes and messy hair. He was also lying in bed, but you could tell you hadn’t woken him up.

“Hi Lan,” you said softly.

“What’s up?” He asked, tiredness evident in his voice.

“Just calling to check in with you,” you said.

“I’m fine.” He replied shortly.

“Try again," you countered. He didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes and you waited out the silence.

“Okay, I’m not fine,” he said sighing. “I haven’t been able to sleep or eat much really.”

“Did you have dinner?” You questioned and he shook his head.

“I don’t have an appetite. I don’t want to talk about Brazil. Can you just talk to me about your week?”

You nodded and started to fill him in on everything that happened the past week and getting to catch up with Pietra. While you were talking, you put in an UberEats order to his place after getting his address from Max. He listened intently to you, making more comments as time went on, and you were happy to be a distraction.

“Are you coming to Vegas?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No, I’ll be at Qatar though.”

“Okay,” he said pouting. You could hear his doorbell ring in the background and he excused himself for a minute. When he came back, there was an unrecognizable look on his face as he picked the phone back up. “Did you order me food?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, scrolling through social media on your phone. “You need to eat.”

“What’s next, going to stick Carlos on me to drag me out of my place?” He asked and you looked over at him.

“That’s not a bad idea,” you said and he groaned.

“I wish you were here,” he said quietly and you gave him a sad smile.

“Me too.”

——————————————————-

Qatar was very exciting for Ferrari, but your own celebrating was dulled because of what happened during Lando’s race. You followed Rebecca to your brother’s driver's room when he got back, and he was in mostly good spirits, but Carlos was usually positive about everything.

When the three of you were finally heading out, you ran into Oscar who was looking for Carlos. The two men talked quietly, and you were only able to pick up bits and pieces.

“…he won’t talk to anyone…could you try?”

“yeah…what hotel room is he in?”

Oscar said goodbye and you looked quizzically at Carlos.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lando is just being hard on himself as usual,” he replied casually but you could tell that it was worse than normal. The car ride to the hotel was silent, as your brother was worried about his friend. Once you go there, you started to head to your own room, but Carlos stopped you.

“Why don’t you just come with me?” He asked and you nodded, following him to the elevator.

Carlos knocked on Lando’s door, and you stood out of the way while trying to assess the situation.

“Hey man, I just wanted to check on you,” Carlos said.

“You didn’t need to, I’m fine,” Lando replied but the tremble in his voice told you otherwise. Carlos stepped to the side, and the second Lando saw you, his face crumpled.

“Oh Lan,” you murmured, closing the gap between you and wrapping your arms around him. He buried his head into your neck, letting out small sobs and you felt your heart breaking.

“It’s all my fault,” he cried and you rubbed his back soothingly.

“It’s not your fault Lan,” you whispered. “It was just unlucky. The season isn’t over.”

“It feels like it is,” he said, holding on to you tightly. Carlos mouthed that he was going to go and you nodded a goodbye before gently guiding Lando back into his hotel room, closing the door behind you. He reluctantly let go of you, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. You took in his disheveled appearance - he was still in his race suit, hair messy, and eyes red-rimmed from crying.

"Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" you said softly. Lando nodded, letting you lead him to the bathroom. You turned on the shower and helped him out of his race suit. Under normal circumstances, this level of intimacy might have felt awkward, but right now your only concern was taking care of him.

"I'll be right outside if you need anything," you told him. He gave you a small, grateful smile before stepping into the shower.

While Lando showered, you busied yourself tidying up the room and ordering room service. You knew he probably hadn't eaten anything, he clearly has gone straight from the debrief to here.

His phone rang, and you peeked to see that Max was calling. You answered, feeling like Lando wouldn’t mind.

“Hey Max, it’s y/n,” you greeted.

“Hey, how is he?” Max asked, concern lacing his voice.

“Not great but getting better,” you told him. “I just ordered room service and he’s getting cleaned up.”

“Good, try and get him to join me on Tarkov when he’s done, I think it might help,” he said.

“I can do that,” you replied.

“Thanks for being there y/n, you mean a lot to him,” Max said softly.

“Of course, I’ll talk to you later.”

It didn’t take much convincing to get Lando to join the stream, though he kept his camera off, which you appreciated. You sat on his bed behind him, reading a book you had gone to get from your own room. Every once in a while,e he would turn to look at you, a small smile gracing his face.

When it hit midnight you were dead tired and started to gather your things to leave.

“Can you stay?” Lando asked quietly.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart racing at his request. "Are you sure?" you asked softly.

Lando nodded, his eyes pleading. "Please. I just... I don't want to be alone right now."

You set your bag back down and gave him a small smile. "Okay, I'll stay."

Relief washed over his face as he turned back to his game. You settled back onto the bed, trying to get comfortable. After a while, Lando finally logged off and joined you on the bed, lying down next to you but keeping a respectful distance.

"Thank you," he murmured into the darkness. "For everything today."

You rolled onto your side to face him. "That's what friends are for, Lan."

He was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Is that what we are? Just friends?"

Your breath caught in your throat at the question and his eyes bored into yours.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “Are we?”

“I’d be insane to not want more with you,” he admitted.

Your heart raced at Lando's admission. You reached out tentatively, gently cupping his cheek with your hand. "Lando, I..."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When he opened them again, they were filled with hope and vulnerability, making your chest tighten.

"I want more too," you whispered. "But I'm scared. This could complicate so many things - your friendship with Carlos, my relationship with my brother, your career..."

Lando nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I know. Trust me, I've thought about all of that. But y/n, being with you... it would be worth it. You're worth it."

He inched closer to you on the bed, your faces now just inches apart. "We could take it slow," he suggested. "Figure things out together. I need you by my side.”

Instead of answering with words, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft and tender at first, but soon grew more passionate as the two of you gave in to your feelings for each other.

“You have to tell Carlos though,” you said as you pulled back and Lando rested his forehead against yours groaning.

“You’re lucky I’ve been waiting for this,” he said pouting, pulling you into his chest. You enjoyed the peacefulness of the rest of the night before the inevitable chaos would occur the next day.

[burrowdarling]

Masked Up (18+)

Summary: A request for a particular Halloween costume turns into so much more

Pairing: Joe Burrow x gf!reader

Warning: smut, language, oral, ghostface!Joe, masked man, dom!Joe x sub!reader, light choking, praise, light degradation

Note: Hi! Wow, I got this out way faster than I was expecting to. This is my first smutty Joe fic that I've written and I hope you all like it. With that being said, this fic is 18+. NSWF, MDNI, all of the things, etc. I tried my best and I hope you all enjoy it right in time for Halloween!

p.s thank you to the anon for suggesting ghostface!joe

Word Count: 3k

Check out my Masterlist here!

It was a cozy fall evening at home for Joe and I, a rarity during the season. We were both snuggled up on the couch, I was lying between Joe’s legs with my back to his chest and a blanket draped over us both. To get into the spirit with Halloween around the corner, Joe decided it would be a good idea to watch a scary movie. The first one he found was Scream.

While the movie played in the background, Joe and I talked about the upcoming Halloween get together we were planning with some of our friends. It was going to be our first Halloween together and I wanted to do something special for it. Joe, being more introverted and as costume-opposed as he was, agreed because ‘it would make me happy’.

“You could always do something simple like one of those masks or something” feeling myself get excited as I said the idea out loud. That had been one of my newly discovered kinks, never trying it myself before, but finding something about it to be extremely hot. Knowing it would be Joe underneath the mask, letting him do what pleased to me under a façade. I hadn’t said anything to Joe yet, not that I feel like he would necessarily judge me for it, but it wasn’t the most traditional kink out there.

“You mean like that ghost one or something?” Joe questioned, oblivious to how his words were affecting me. I squeezed me thighs closer together at the thought of Joe masked up and fucking me senseless. 

I must’ve been lost in my thoughts longer than I thought, Joe nudging my back from behind waiting on a response.

“Sorry, what did you say?” I questioned, voice slightly labored.

“I asked if you wanted me to wear a Ghostface mask for the party. I’m not big on costumes, but I could make something work with that” Joe stated, feeling content with the idea. 

I could feel my cheeks heating up at the thought, mumbling something into the blanket. Joe looked at me confused, pulling the blanket down to see my rosy cheeks.

“What’d you say babe, I can’t hear you when you’re mumbling” he looked at me, eyes soft and waiting for an answer. 

It was now or never, the worst that could happen would be him saying no. 

“I feel like you would look hot dressed up as Ghostface” I spoke quickly, darting back under the blanket to hide my embarrassment for, what I felt like, would be the inevitable judgement I’d get for the confession.

“Hey, hey why are you hiding on me? There’s no need to get all shy on me now” Joe said with a light chuckle, pulling the blanket back from my face yet again. Flushed cheeks and shallow breathing an obvious indicator of the thoughts on my mind. It was a miracle Joe hadn’t pointed that out yet.

“I think I could make that work for you, I could make a pretty hot Ghostface huh” Joe said, pulling me back against him and turning his attention back to the tv. I felt my desire growing, images of Joe in the mask flooding my thoughts for the remainder of the evening. I couldn’t wait for the party.

The next day

I had just gotten home from work, excited to get out of my work clothes and ready to change from my skirt and sweater to one of joe’s hoodies and sweatpants. I was able to get out early which was a rarity and figured I would help Joe do some more of the decorating for the party. He had the time available and offered to do what he could, but I didn’t expect him to do everything when it was my idea to host. I slid my key into the door, unlocking it and shutting it gently behind me.

When I was met with silence, I called out to Joe, letting him know of my early arrival, just to be further met with silence. I slid off my jacket and took off my shoes by the door walking further into the house, looking to see if he was in the kitchen. I noticed that he had started to put up some of the decorations for the party, but I also noticed something else on the edge of the kitchen island. There was a bloody handprint made out of red paint. I continued further into the house, finding more handprints as I went, but not Joe. When I finally made it to the bedroom after finding the last handprint, I was met with an empty room.

“Joe?” I lightly called out, questioning where else he could possibly be. 

‘I wonder where he went’, I said to myself in my head, noting that his car was in the garage when I pulled in. As I was about to turn around to leave the room, I felt a firm hand slither around my waist, the other coming up to cover my mouth. I was first met with a feeling of fear in the pit of my stomach, but that soon diminished to desire, knowing it was Joe behind me. I could feel his muscles as he pulled my closer to him, making it harder for me to escape. 

His hand slid down from my mouth to my throat, grasping me to pull me towards his mouth as he leaned to my ear. His voice came through muffled, telling me that he must’ve listened intently to our conversation the night before. I turned my head the best I could and noticed that there was a mask over his face.

Joe turned me to face him, my breath hitching in my throat as I was met with a Ghostface mask and a shirtless Joe, his muscles on full display. Joe pushed me up against the wall, caging me in with his body, leaning his masked face down by my ear. 

He whispered, “looks like it’s my turn to play”.

It was so sudden; I was swept up into his arms and tossed back on the bed. It was quite a sight to behold, my Greek god of a boyfriend shirtless, masked up, and ready to do what he pleased with me. I could feel the familiar burn in my stomach begin to grow and the mess of thoughts going on in my head of the endless possibilities. 

I scooted back as far as I could go towards the headboard before Joe gripped one of my ankles, dragging me back towards him and lifting up my skirt in the process. He began to climb up onto the bed, his presence filling the entire room. I laid there before him, feeling defenseless and excited for what was to come. 

“Take your sweater off for me. Now” Joe demanded, and without a second thought I did. 

“Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? Is this living up to your fantasy that you had in your head?” Joe asked his voice dripping with desire as I struggled to form coherent thoughts.

I quickly nodded my head, a grumbled yes being the only thing I could come up with. A gasp escaped my lips as he slid his hands down my bare thighs, forcing my knees to bend, hiking my skirt higher up my legs, as I laid back on the bed. Joe growled with approval of my evident desire laid out before him, trailing his fingers over my clothed pussy. He was looking at me as if I was an entire meal ready to be devoured. 

“if I knew this would get you this wet sweetheart, I would’ve done this sooner. You’ve been holding out on me huh” Joe joked as he continued to tease me. 

I could feel my patience wearing thinner the longer he held out on me continuing to tease my clothed center. 

“Please Joe “I begged, the need to feel his hands on me properly growing with each passing second. 

“Look at you, I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already soaked for me. Can barely even form a sentence, you’re so needy. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours hm? Are you thinking about how badly you want me to touch you, fuck you with my fingers while I’m wearing this mask” Joe continued, finally sliding my panties down my legs, the cool air hitting my pussy causing me to shiver. 

Before I could give him a proper answer, he thrust his two middle fingers into me, pressing in all of the right places with the right speed and pressure. The best response I could come up with was a moan as my back arched up off of the mattress. 

“Look at my girl, already a mess from just my fingers. Think you can cum just from my fingers for me?” Joe questioned, voice low and gravely.

At this rate with how he’s been with me, it felt like a genuine possibility. With Joe’s other hand, he moved my bra up off of my tits to gain access, immediately pinching one of my hard nipples. I felt the familiar knot begin to tighten, ready to snap at any moment. 

“Cum for me sweet girl, I know you can” Joe mused as his paced quicken and began to touch my clit with his thumb. That caused the snap, becoming a moaning mess beneath him. It took me a good minute to regain my composure and come back down from my high. 

I looked up at him from the bed, reigniting my desire to have him again. 

“I want your pretty mouth on my cock baby before I absolutely ruin you. The only thing you’ll know how to say is my name” Joe __, his erection evident in his sweats.

A new wave of desire washed over me, eagerly getting down on my knees, wanting to obey him. I placed a delicate kiss over his clothed crotch, my fingers toying with the waistband of his black sweatpants while I looked up at him innocently.

“I’m not in the mood for games right now, baby girl you don’t want to test me” Joe groaned firmly, not wanting to test him any further.

“Yes sir” I said, eliciting a deep moan from above at my word choice, before pulling down his sweatpants and boxers all in one swift motion. His hard cock came free, causing my mouth to water at the sight of it. I gave his head a kiss before licking a stripe from the base to the tip, taking him into my mouth as far as I could go.

I created a steady rhythm, taking in what I could and using my hand for what I couldn’t. I felt my hair being pulled into a makeshift ponytail.

“I want to fuck your mouth so bad right now” Joe said, voice filled with lust.

I nodded, letting him take control as I felt my eyes begin to water from his thrusts, though he was still careful to not go too deep. 

“God I love how your mouth feels on me, but nothing will ever beat your pussy” Joe said pulling me up from the floor and back to the bed. 

He lined himself up at my entrance and pushed in slowly, giving me a moment to adjust to his size. At my nod to continue, his pace picked up quickly, thrusting into me at a punishing rate. My hands reached around to his back, my nails digging in to ground myself somehow. This caused Joe to groan and throw his head back with pleasure.

“Think I didn’t notice how you reacted last night when we were talking about the mask? I could feel you getting flustered thinking about me just like this” Joe said, voice rough from exhaustion. 

His comment caused my head to spin, bringing out my own groan at his confession. I felt him adjust slightly, allowing a hand to grip onto my throat, squeezing slightly.

“That’s my girl, love my hand on your throat while I fuck you masked up” Joe said his pace faltering slightly, signaling that he was getting close too.

“Joe I-I’m so close” I whined, voice breaking from the pleasure I was feeling.

“Me too baby, cum around my cock for me yeah? I know you can do it” Joe praised, luring me closer to the edge.

With a few more hard thrusts, I felt myself all over the edge, screaming out Joe’s name without a care for who heard. I felt Joe finish shortly after, his body falling on me from sheer exhaustion.

We laid like that for a little, before Joe lifted his head, taking the mask off and meeting my eyes with his blue ones.

“Hi” I said, voice small after the acts that had just ensued. My shyness returning 

“Hey” Joe replied, placing a soft kiss to my lift. 

He got up, pulling out of me, eliciting a groan at the loss of contact with him. He walked off to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth to clean me up. He left scattered tender kisses as he cleaned my skin, cleaning himself in the process and getting back in bed with me. He pulled me into his chest and placed a kiss on top of my head, letting myself fall into his warmth.

I spoke up, breaking the silence, “I think that was one of the kinkiest things we’ve ever done” following my statement with a breathy laugh.

Joe chuckled in agreeance, “you’ve been holding out on me apparently. Are there any other secret kinks I should know about?”

I blushed, tucking my head into his embrace further. “Maybe that’s something we can explore together”.

“I’m definitely down for that”.

Thank you so much for reading, please send in any requests or comments. I hope you enjoyed!

[letsnowtalk]

Steady Hands

Nika mühl x fem reader

A/N: i love vetxrookie😜

When Nika got drafted to Seattle she was the happiest girl in the world.

Why?

Because of you.

It started with the clinginess.

You’d been in the league long enough to recognize when a rookie was latching onto a vet out of nerves, admiration, or the sheer need to survive the W. It happened every season—usually faded out by the All-Star break.

But Nika Mühl?

She stuck.

Like gum under your shoe.

Every day of training camp, she was there. Right next to you in drills, mimicking your movements during film, leaning in during water breaks to ask questions with her thick Croatian accent wrapping around your name like a dare.

“Y/N… can I sit here?”

“Y/N, what do you think I should’ve done in that last possession?”

“Y/N, you always tie your shoes like that?”

It was cute, and it was constant.

You hadn’t expected to like it.

But the truth was, there was something magnetic about her. Not just her hustle or her chaotic defensive energy—but her grin, the way she looked at you like you were already everything. Like you had nothing to prove, and she wanted to be the one to know every part of you anyway.

By the end of preseason, she was calling you her vet with a smirk.

“Hey, you gonna teach me that spin move or keep gatekeeping greatness?”

You just rolled your eyes. “Earn it.”

And she did.

Damn if she didn’t.

⸻

Nika didn’t get many minutes to start the season. Rookie dues, rotation depth, coach’s caution. She still fought every damn second she was on the floor. But it killed you seeing her on the bench too long, chewing her mouthguard with that storm in her eyes.

You pulled her aside after a road loss in Chicago, both of you still sweaty, hearts beating loud from a fourth-quarter push that came too late.

“You’re doing everything right,” you told her, pressing a towel into her hands. “They’re just slow to trust. Keep barking on defense. Be loud. Be you.”

Her eyes searched yours. “They listen to you.”

“They do,” you said evenly. “So I’ll talk. But you keep showing them you belong.”

You didn’t expect her to grab your wrist gently.

Didn’t expect her to say, “I’d follow you anywhere.”

Didn’t expect it to make your chest ache like that.

⸻

Things changed after that.

She started getting more minutes. You talked to the coaching staff—not in a “she’s my favorite” kind of way, but in a “this girl reads the floor better than half the second unit” kind of way. And they listened.

Because you’d been here. You’d won. You knew what made the team better.

And Nika made them better.

She got bolder on the court. More decisive. She chased steals like her life depended on it, dove for loose balls that no rookie should sacrifice their ribs for, and still…still ended up in your locker chair after practices like it was hers.

“Nice pass today,” she murmured one afternoon, flicking your knee with her towel. “You looked for me.”

“I always look for you.”

The look in her eyes when you said it? Dangerous.

You didn’t move. Neither did she.

But that line between you—rookie and vet, court and off—it pulsed electric.

⸻

By the Olympic break, she kissed you.

It wasn’t planned. Wasn’t even dramatic. Just a quiet moment after a late practice, the gym dark except for the glow of the overhead exit sign.

You’d lingered. So had she.

She was icing her shoulder, hair messy from a hard scrimmage, her legs stretched over the bench across from you. You were talking low, laughing about how your coach still called her “firecracker.”

Then silence.

Then her soft, “Can I?”

Then the kiss—tentative at first, then hungry. A little clumsy. A lot honest.

You didn’t stop her.

You didn’t want to.

⸻

It stayed private.

Not secret, exactly. Just… yours.

In locker rooms, you kept your distance. On planes, you didn’t sit together too often. But when it was just the two of you—hotel rooms, late walks, 3AM texts when one of you couldn’t sleep—it was real.

She never hid how much she liked you, though. Even in public.

“Why do you cling to Y/N like that?” Tina, one of your teammates, had laughed during a post-game dinner.

“Because she’s my favorite,” Nika said without hesitation, looping her arm through yours under the table. “And she’s soft. On the inside. You don’t know.”

You’d kicked her ankle.

But you’d smiled, too.

⸻

It happened in Phoenix.

Hot gym. Chippy game. One of those nights where everyone was irritated by the refs, the fans, and each other. You were up by six in the third quarter, tension high, when it happened.

Nika went to the rim, got bodied hard mid-air by a vet guard who’d been jawing all night. She hit the floor shoulder-first, skidding with a painful grunt.

You were already off the bench before the whistle.

By the time you reached her, she was sitting up, flexing her wrist, pissed as hell.

You crouched beside her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “That was dirty.”

Then, as the refs reviewed it, that same guard—too smug, too casual—walked past you both and said something low in Croatian.

You didn’t understand it.

But Nika did.

Her face snapped toward the woman like she’d been slapped.

“What’d she say?” you asked quietly.

Nika’s jaw clenched. “Don’t worry.”

You turned.

“Hey,” you called to the player. “You want to throw shade, do it in a language we all speak.”

The woman smirked. “Just saying hi.”

“Then say it nice,” you snapped.

Whistles blew. Double technicals. Coach yelled. But it wasn’t until the final minute—when Nika stripped the ball from that same player, ran it down the court, and fed you for the dagger three—that it really exploded.

As you turned, your finger already rising in celebration, Nika was there.

Grinning, sweating, bright-eyed—and she pulled you in.

Not for a high five.

Not for a chest bump.

For a kiss.

Right there.

On your mouth.

On the court.

In front of the whole damn world.

⸻

You pulled back too late. The damage was done.

The crowd roared. Cameras caught it. Your teammates froze, then whooped. The bench exploded. And you—

You were staring at her like she’d set you on fire.

“I—” she started.

“You just—” you blinked.

She smiled. “I told you I’d follow you anywhere.”

⸻

It was chaos after the game.

Media storm. Phones blowing up. Headlines in real time: “Storm Chemistry? Mühl and Y/L/N Spark More Than Plays on the Court.”

Coach just raised her eyebrows in the locker room.

“Anything I should know?” she asked.

You and Nika exchanged glances.

“She kissed me,” you said dryly.

“I saw that,” Coach deadpanned.

Then a smile broke out across her face.

“As long as it doesn’t mess with your play, I don’t care who’s kissing who. Just win.”

Nika bumped your shoulder, smug.

“She wants to kiss a winner,” she whispered.

You rolled your eyes.

But you smiled, too.

⸻

The playoffs hit like a second season.

Everything was louder. Sharper. Faster.

You’d warned Nika before it started—told her the physicality doubled, the talking tripled, and that opponents would look for any crack to slip through.

You didn’t tell her to be careful with you.

You should have.

You were deep into Game Two of the second round, playing on the road against a gritty team that didn’t know how to lose quietly(wanna say who but im gonna get cancelled 🤫). You’d taken a hard screen early in the third that left your shoulder burning. The trainers cleared you to stay in, but you could feel Nika watching you from across the floor like a fuse lit too close to the flame.

Then the incident happened.

Fourth quarter. One-point game. You went up for a floater, landed hard, and one of the opposing guards—you’d played against her before, you knew she liked to push—“accidentally” stumbled into your body. Elbow right to your ribs. Followed by a not-so-innocent hand on your hip.

“You okay, baby?” the guard said with a fake little smile, just loud enough to be heard.

You flinched, brushing her off.

But Nika heard it.

And Nika snapped.

Before the ref could even whistle the contact, Nika was there.

“Back the fuck up,” she barked, stepping chest-to-chest with the girl who dared touch you. “You think I didn’t see that weak-ass flop?”

The ref blew the whistle too late. Technical. Maybe on both. You weren’t sure. Because all you could see was Nika’s eyes—wild, storming, locked on the girl like she might swing.

“She’s good,” the girl muttered, smirking. “You scared she’s gonna like someone else?”

Nika didn’t hesitate.

“She already does,” she snarled. “And it’s me. So touch her like that again, and I swear—playoffs or not—I’ll end you.”

Your hand found hers instinctively, grounding her.

“Nika,” you whispered. “Not worth it.”

She looked at you, chest heaving. Eyes still dangerous. But then her fingers curled tightly around yours.

And she backed off.

The ref issued double techs. Coach didn’t even chew her out—just muttered something like “Next time, let her flop. Don’t give the refs ammo.”

But Nika wasn’t listening.

When the huddle broke, she pulled you aside, her jaw clenched.

“She touched you,” she said. “She called you baby.”

You exhaled. “That’s her thing. She does it to everyone.”

“She doesn’t do it to me.”

You smiled softly. “That’s because she knows better.”

Nika’s eyes finally softened. But her hand slid around your waist, slow, possessive, in front of the whole arena.

“No one gets to touch you like that,” she said low. “Only me. Got it?”

You kissed her cheek—quick, hidden behind your hand—but enough for her to grin.

“Got it, firecracker.”

⸻

You blew them out by twelve.

Nika had five steals, three of which came after that moment. She was everywhere—ripping through passing lanes, barking switches, grinning like a menace. The commentators called it emotional fuel. The fans called it chaos. You just called it hers.

Post-game interviews were wild.

“Looked like things got heated out there,” one reporter said, smirking at you both.

“Just protecting my teammate,” Nika said coolly, her arm draped casually over your chair.

You raised an eyebrow. “Just a teammate?”

Nika turned to you with a wolfish grin.

“My teammate. My girl. Same thing.”

The room buzzed.

Your face burned.

But you didn’t correct her.

Because truthfully?

You liked when the whole damn world knew.

———

And the world knowing change much.

You still moved like the heartbeat of the team. Still ran plays. Still mentored rookies. Still had Nika’s back every second she was on the floor.

Only difference?

Now when she stole a pass and pointed to the bench, everyone knew who she was pointing at.

Now when you got subbed out, she always came over first, tossing you her towel like it was a love letter.

Now when opposing guards tried flirting—or fouling—too hard, Nika didn’t hold back.

“You hit her like that again,” she told one during a late-season game, voice cold, “and I hit you back. You understand?”

You had to pull her away, hand on her chest, laughing.

“Nika,” you warned.

She just looked at you. “What? I’m invested.”

⸻

You never expected to fall for a rookie.

But Nika Mühl wasn’t just any rookie.

She was loud and loyal and maddening.

She wore her heart like armor and handed it to you before you even realized you were bleeding.

And you—steady, quiet, the vet who’d seen it all—had somehow found the one person who made you feel brand new again.

So when she looked at you after clinching a playoff spot, hair sticking to her face, eyes dancing, and said, “Come home with me,” you just laughed.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Because the truth was?

She’d been home all along.

—————

Me when nika just exists