#that’s the team I’m on I should be supporting us more

[silhouetteonpaper]

Broken Trust, Breached Minds

Summary: When confronted with a new job opportunity, you’re forced to choose between careers. As an enhanced human, a certain someone has already picked out your future, making you worried what she might think—or better yet, what she might do. Wanda Maximoff x Reader WC: 1,882 Warnings: Use of powers, angst, trust issues

You stare at the bright computer screen, the email before you making your heart drop. We’d like to offer you a position with us. The job you passively applied to a few weeks ago actually got back to you, and not just to turn you down.

You didn’t think you’d actually get the job, it was solely a ‘doesn’t hurt to try’ attempt at applying. But here you are, reading the email containing the key to your dream career as a writer for the biggest entertainment company. It’s something you’ve dreamed of since you were little, before you made commitments to your current job.

Although less of a job and more of a lifestyle, you currently spend your days protecting earth as an Avenger. It’s fulfilling, yet something inside you yearns for a different career. You enjoy the time spent with the team, who’s more like family than anything else, but you know you’re destined for something different, something you’ve wanted for a long time now.

Terrified of what the team might think, you haven’t mentioned your application to anyone—let alone the job offer. The team is fairly aware of your passion for writing, but most of them assume it’s more of a hobby as most of your time is devoted to training. Everyone assumes just because you’re an enhanced superhuman, you only have one option in life.

The idea of being a professional writer fills you with bliss, spending hours exercising your mind as the endless flow of words finally have an outlet. Not having to worry about the city being in danger yet again, or the fear of not being prepared for your next mission. Getting to do something you truly love, and can never get tired of.

On the contrary, the idea of telling the team you’d prefer to write over saving the world makes you feel nauseous. Will they be supportive? Usually any person would pick being a superhero over anything else, but you’re different. Even though your powers are a great asset to the team and their Avenging, you feel you could be even more useful as a writer in the world of entertainment.

Plus, work should be something you love, right? You decide to entertain the idea of no longer being an Avenger, weighing if it’d be a good idea to test the waters and talk with someone about it. Eventually, you commit and attempt to build up your confidence as you head out to see what your closest friend might think.

When you leave your room, Wanda is sitting alone in the living room. She’s like an older sister to you, taking you under her wing when you first joined the team. Because both of you are enhanced, she played a key role in your training. Hours of time together brought you two closer, and now you already feel like you can tell her everything. That leaves a good chance she’d be supportive of you retiring as an Avenger. Still, you want to tread lightly—just in case.

“Hey, Wanda,” you say softly while approaching the strawberry blonde on the couch. She smiles warmly at you, shifting slightly to face you as you sit beside her. “Could I get your opinion on something?”

She nods. “Of course, what’s up?” Her eyebrows raise, signaling she’s really listening. You take a deep breath, thinking of how to phrase your words.

“I’m not one hundred percent on this, it’s just an idea… but what if I stopped going on missions?” You dance around the real subject, trying to gain an idea on where Wanda would stand with this. She sports a confused expression.

“And just train with us? If you’re going to train, why not go on missions too?” She asks curiously. 

You press your lips together, knowing the only way to be clear is to state your idea fully. “No, I mean… stopping all of it. No longer being a part of Avengers.” You cautiously watch as Wanda’s expression falls. Half of the story will have to suffice for now, because her unsure look makes you even more hesitant to speak.

“You’re enhanced, we need you on the team,” Wanda voices, your stomach flipping. Maybe you were wrong, maybe she wouldn’t support the idea.

“But what if I’m not really meant to be a superhero? I can’t control the fact I have these powers, but I can control what I do with my life.” You try to reason. Wanda shakes her head, looking to the floor as she tries to organize her thoughts.

“You do so much good every time we step out onto the battlefield, we can’t lose that. I don’t think anyone on the team would be okay with letting you go.” She expresses, putting a comforting hand on your knee.

“We can handle them,” You remark, knowing how persuasive the two of you could be. But that would only work if Wanda would agree to support this endeavor, and so far things weren’t looking too good. “Why is it that big of a deal if I’m not an Avenger? The rest of you are more than capable of holding your own.”

Wanda’s gaze finally meets yours again, her hand withdrawing. “Because enhanced super-humans usually don’t become writers. I don’t know why you’d quit such a good thing over that.” She discloses. You inhale sharply, not only taken aback by her sudden harsh tone, but at the mention of your new job offer.

She knows. How could she possibly know? Your mind reels, heart racing as Wanda’s words take you by surprise. She looks to the ground, the impact of her words finally resonating. That’s when it suddenly hits you; she read your mind.

“Wanda, I didn’t mention anything about being a writer.” You state, looking at her with a disappointed expression. It was something Wanda always held herself to, never using her powers on any of her friends. Especially the ability to read minds, it was a huge boundary she always kept.

You could see Wanda’s expression fall, but it was different this time. Like she knew she messed up. The sour taste of distrust rose in your throat as you watched Wanda break eye contact.

“You read my mind, didn’t you?” You assert, shaking your head in disbelief. Accessing your thoughts is a breach of any kind of privacy you still had these days, leaving you appalled at her actions. You thought she was one of your closest friends, but maybe you were wrong about that too.

“No, I-“ Wanda started, pausing as she tried to explain herself. But there was no use, what she did betrayed your trust and there was no going back. Any friend would want the full story, sure, but a true friend wouldn’t misuse their powers just for some extra understanding.

In a huff of frustration, you stand from the couch, not letting the woman even try to untangle her words. The anger inside of you leaves an urgent feeling, the decision you originally came here to make becoming even clearer. If not even your closest friend can support you, there’s no point in staying here a second longer.

You’ve been sitting in your bedroom, staring at that same email for the past hour. The drafted response accepting the position is typed out, ready to send with one click of a button. But your finger can’t seem to make that one simple motion.

The burning feeling in your chest won’t relent, leaving you weary about what step to take next. You want to take this job, more than anything. So why can’t you just hit send and accept it?

You’re a great asset to the Avengers, but don’t want to be a superhero anymore. Why can’t Wanda accept that? Why is she so against you following your passion? The questions that you can’t possibly answer swirl inside your mind, almost blocking out the sound of a soft knock on your door.

You let out an exasperated sigh, hoping that the strawberry blonde isn’t outside waiting to redeem herself. “Come in,” you call reluctantly. Sure enough, Wanda opens the door with a guilty expression.

You don’t let her get a word in before speaking up, “Look, if you’re here to try and justify things, I’m not in the mood for excuses.” Wanda takes a deep breath while clenching and unclenching her fists. It’s easy to tell she’s thinking hard about what to do next.

“Just give me five minutes.” Wanda pleads. You let out yet another sigh of resignation, moving aside on your bed so she can sit. It takes a moment for her eyes to find yours, and it’s easy to tell Wanda really wants to do this right.

“I only did it because I was worried,” She starts. You scoff, shaking your head. How were you supposed to take that as a valid excuse? Can you even trust what she’s saying right now?

“Is that the truth, or do I need to read your mind to find the real reason?” You jab in return. Wanda presses her lips together to relay a silent ‘fair enough’.

“The fact you were even considering leaving the Avengers made me worried, I wasn’t sure what possible reason could cause that. I wanted to be sure something wasn’t truly wrong,” She explains. Now it’s your turn to take a deep breath, the wall of anger you built up being knocked down a few bricks. 

“Why didn’t you just ask? I thought we were close enough for that.” You respond.

“I did too, so the fact you were hiding something made me worried. You never hide anything unless something’s up.” Touché. She’s not wrong; all those months of training side by side really allowed her to get to know you, more so than you thought. It’s not often you hide things from anyone, let alone Wanda. Maybe she had a reason to worry, but not enough to warrant misuse of her powers.

“Fine, yeah—I withheld part of the truth, but only because I was worried how you’d react. I know how you are about our powers.” You reason, thinking back to all those times where Wanda made a huge deal about your abilities. There were moments when you could’ve sworn Wanda saw herself as a villain, and therefore you by extension. She ingrained into you that you’re dangerous.

Wanda breaks eye contact as she rehashes those memories, nodding slowly while they replay in her mind. “I’m terrified to see you get hurt.” Her words are nearly a whisper, yet they leave you stunned to silence.

There’s only one thing able to escape your lips. “I think we chose the wrong career path for that.” The two of you both chuckle, finally meeting each other’s gaze once more. “Just because I'm enhanced doesn’t mean I shouldn’t live the life I want.” You breathe.

Wanda nods, this time more confidently. “I know. You’re going to make a great writer.” A grin spreads across your face, she’s supporting your choice. She wears a matching grin as you lean in to hug her, the two of you melting into a soft embrace. You get to go into your dream job with the support of the one person you care about most, that’s all you could ever hope for.

[lila-lou]

✨Needy - Pt. 4/5✨

Summary: This is part 4 of "Needy"

Pairing: Jensen x PregnantReader

Warnings: ANGST!, Pregnant reader

Word Count: 4575

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Once in the labor and delivery ward, the medical team sprang into action. They guided you to a delivery room, helped you onto the bed, and began monitoring your vitals and the baby’s heart rate. Jensen stayed close, his eyes filled with concern but his demeanor steady and reassuring.

The doctor on call arrived promptly, her face a mix of professionalism and empathy. “Hello, I’m Dr. Martinez”. She took a quick glance at the monitors and then turned her attention to you. “We’re going to take good care of you. I need to check a few things first”.

Dr. Martinez performed a thorough examination, her hands gentle but efficient. The monitors beeped softly in the background. Jensen stayed close, his hand tightly holding yours, offering silent support.

“You’ve done the right thing coming in”, Dr. Martinez reassured you both. “Since your water broke early, we’ll need to keep you here for close monitoring. We want to ensure both you and your baby are safe”.

You nodded, trying to process everything. The reality of the situation was daunting, but the doctor’s calm demeanor and Jensen’s unwavering presence gave you a semblance of reassurance.

As Dr. Martinez continued her examination, another sharp pain radiated through your abdomen. You gasped, gripping Jensen’s hand tighter. “Another contraction”, you managed to say, your voice strained.

Dr. Martinez’s expression remained focused but calm. “I can see that”, she said, her eyes on the monitor. “We’ll need to administer medication to help slow the contractions and steroids to help your baby’s lungs develop more quickly. The goal is to keep the baby inside for as long as possible to give them the best chance”.

The nurses moved swiftly, setting up an IV and preparing the necessary medications. The contraction slowly ebbed, leaving you exhausted and breathless. Jensen leaned in, his forehead gently pressing against yours. “You’re doing amazing”, he whispered, his voice filled with love and pride.

Dr. Martinez finished her examination and stepped back, giving you a reassuring smile. “We’re going to monitor you closely. The medications should help, but if you need anything or feel any changes, let us know immediately”.

The room settled into a quieter rhythm, the beeping of the monitors providing a steady background noise. The nurses adjusted your position to make you more comfortable and dimmed the lights slightly to create a more soothing environment.

Jensen sat beside you, his hand never leaving yours. Despite his obvious exhaustion, he remained focused on you, his eyes filled with unwavering support. “I’m right here”, he repeated softly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand.

The minutes passed slowly.

Despite the initial signs of hope, the contractions began to pick up again. You could see the worry in Jensen’s eyes each time you squeezed his hand tighter in pain. He stayed strong for you, his words of encouragement a lifeline in the midst of your fear and exhaustion.

Eventually, Dr. Martinez returned, her expression more serious this time. She approached the bed and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, but the medication isn’t working as well as we hoped. The contractions are continuing to progress”.

Your heart sank at her words, the reality of the situation hitting you hard. Jensen’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes filled with concern and determination. “What does this mean?”, he asked, his voice steady despite the fear you knew he was feeling.

Dr. Martinez took a deep breath, her demeanor calm and professional. “It means that we need to prepare for the possibility that your baby may come sooner than we planned. We’re going to do everything we can to ensure a safe delivery for both of you”.

Tears welled up in your eyes, the uncertainty of it all overwhelming. Jensen leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours. “We’re going to get through this”, he whispered, his voice filled with unwavering resolve. “You and me, together”.

Dr. Martinez continued, “We’ll increase the dosage of the steroids to help the baby’s lungs develop faster, and we’ll keep monitoring both of you very closely. But we’ll be ready for an early delivery”.

The medical team moved with renewed urgency, adjusting your medications and preparing for every possible outcome.

As the hours dragged on, you felt a mixture of fear and determination. The contractions were relentless, each one a stark reminder of how early it was for your baby to be born. But Jensen’s unwavering support and the professionalism of the medical team gave you the strength to keep going.

At noon, after hours of relentless contractions and mounting exhaustion, you finally managed to get some sleep. Jensen had been reluctant to leave your side, but you insisted he get something to eat and take a moment to rest. With a kiss on your forehead and a promise to be back soon, he reluctantly agreed.

As you drifted into an exhausted slumber, Jensen settled onto the couch in your room. Despite his fatigue, he remained vigilant, occasionally closing his eyes but never fully succumbing to sleep. The steady hum of the monitors and the gentle footsteps of the medical staff filled the room, a constant reminder of the careful watch being kept over you and your baby.

The hours passed quietly. The nurses switched shifts, seamlessly continuing the diligent monitoring of your condition. They moved around the room with practiced ease, checking your vitals and adjusting medications, all while ensuring you remained as comfortable as possible.

From time to time, you woke up briefly, the contractions piercing through your sleep. Each time, a nurse was there, her calm voice and gentle touch helping you navigate the pain. Jensen would rouse from his light doze, his eyes immediately finding yours, offering a reassuring smile before you both drifted back to a light sleep.

In the late afternoon, the contractions began to grow more intense and frequent again. You felt a sense of urgency building within you. As another wave of pain gripped your abdomen, you let out a soft moan, waking Jensen with it.

He was at your side in an instant, his hand enveloping yours.

Dr. Martinez entered the room, her expression serious but calm. “How are you feeling?”, she asked, her eyes assessing you and the monitors.

“The contractions are getting stronger”, you managed to say through gritted teeth.

Dr. Martinez nodded. “We’re going to check your progress”, she said, donning gloves and positioning herself to examine you. After a few moments, she looked up, her expression thoughtful. “You’re dilating more rapidly. We need to prepare for delivery”.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you sniffed, the reality of the situation hitting hard. “But it’s too early”, you said, your voice trembling with fear.

Dr. Martinez gave you a reassuring look, her eyes filled with empathy. “I understand how scary this is, but I want you to know that at 32 weeks, your baby is already quite developed. His lungs may need some support, but with the right care, he has a very good chance of doing well. We’re going to be monitoring both of you very closely”.

Jensen squeezed your hand, his presence a calming anchor in the storm of emotions swirling around you. “We’ve got this”, he whispered, his voice filled with determination.

The contractions grew stronger and stronger, each one a wave of intense pain that seemed to engulf you completely. Time seemed to blur, and before you knew it, it was already 11 p.m. The hours had slipped by in a haze of pain and determination.

Dr. Martinez returned, her expression focused as she examined you again. “You’re making progress”, she said, her voice calm but firm. “But it’s not quite enough yet. We need you to keep going, just a little longer”.

You felt utterly exhausted, your body weak from the relentless pain and the effort of labor. Tears of frustration and fear welled up in your eyes, and you looked to Jensen for support. He was right beside you, his eyes wide and alert despite the exhaustion etched on his face, fueled by the copious amounts of coffee he had consumed to stay awake and present for you.

“I know it’s hard, but you’re so strong. We’re almost there”. He brushed a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead.

You nodded, trying to draw strength from his words and his unwavering presence. The pain was overwhelming, but you focused on your breathing, on Jensen’s hand holding yours, and on the knowledge that each contraction brought you closer to meeting your baby.

Minutes turned into what felt like hours, each contraction testing the limits of your endurance.

It was 2 a.m. when the nurses began to prepare the room for the imminent delivery. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of anticipation and professionalism. Medical supplies and equipment were carefully arranged, ready for any potential complications with your baby’s lungs, a precaution due to the early delivery.

Dr. Martinez entered the room once more, her presence a comforting constant amidst the chaos. She approached you with a calm, focused expression. “Let’s see how you’re progressing”, she said, her voice steady.

You were exhausted, every muscle in your body screaming with fatigue, but you managed a nod. Jensen’s hand tightened around yours, his eyes never leaving your face.

Dr. Martinez conducted her examination, her brow furrowing slightly as she assessed the situation. After a few moments, she looked up, her expression one of determination. “You’re fully dilated”, she announced. “It’s time to start pushing”.

The room buzzed with renewed energy as the medical team sprang into action. The nurses adjusted your position, making sure you were as comfortable as possible, while Dr. Martinez explained what would happen next.

“You’re doing great”, she said, her voice filled with encouragement. “I need you to focus on pushing with each contraction. We’re going to meet your baby soon”.

Jensen leaned in close, his face filled with love and determination. “You’ve got this”, he whispered, his voice unwavering.

You took a deep breath and prepared yourself. The next contraction hit with intense force, and you bore down, pushing with all your might.

“That’s it”, Dr. Martinez encouraged, her eyes focused and reassuring. “Keep going. You’re doing amazing”.

Time seemed to blur again, each contraction merging into the next. Jensen’s presence was a constant, his words of love and support giving you the strength to push through the pain and exhaustion. Every push brought you closer to your baby, the thought of finally holding him in your arms driving you forward.

The room was filled with the sounds of the medical team’s focused work, the steady beeping of monitors, and Jensen’s steady voice. “Almost there”, he kept saying, his eyes never leaving yours.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dr. Martinez’s voice broke through the haze. “I can see the head”, she said, her tone filled with encouragement. “You’re doing it. Just a few more pushes”.

Tears streamed down your face as you continued to push, your body feeling like it had reached its limit. Your hand, now weak in Jensen’s, trembled with exhaustion. The pain was overwhelming, and despite the encouragement from the medical team and Jensen, you felt a wave of doubt and desperation wash over you.

“I can’t”, you whimpered, your voice breaking with the weight of your exhaustion and fear. “I can’t do it”.

Jensen’s heart broke seeing you in so much pain, but he knew he had to stay strong for you. He leaned in even closer, his forehead resting gently against yours, his eyes filled with unwavering determination and love.

“Yes, you can”, he whispered, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “You’re the strongest person I know. Our baby needs you, and I know you can do this. Just one more push, okay? We’re so close”.

Dr. Martinez added her calm encouragement. “You’re doing wonderfully. Your baby is almost here. Just one more big push”.

You took a deep, shaky breath, before you closed your eyes, focusing on the warmth of Jensen’s touch and the steady rhythm of his breathing. As the next contraction hit, you summoned every ounce of strength left in your body and pushed with all you had.

Despite giving everything you had, the next push wasn’t enough to bring your baby into the world. The exhaustion felt insurmountable, and you felt the weight of your efforts crashing down on you.

Dr. Martinez’s voice cut through the haze, calm yet encouraging. “That’s it, you’re doing great. We’re almost there”.

You could feel Jensen’s hand nearly crushed in your grip as you summoned every ounce of strength for the next round of pushes. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of Dr. Martinez’s voice and the urgency of the moment.

“Push, push, push!”, Dr. Martinez urged gently but firmly, her words urging you onward.

With each push, you felt the strain in every muscle, the fatigue pushing against you like an unyielding force. But through the pain and exhaustion, the thought of meeting your baby fueled your determination.

“There’s the head!”, Dr. Martinez announced, her voice filled with encouragement. “Keep pushing, we’re almost there!”.

You felt a surge of adrenaline and pushed again, feeling the intense pressure as your baby’s head finally emerged. Every second felt like an eternity, the fatigue threatening to overwhelm you. But you kept pushing. And with after one powerful push, there was a sudden, incredible release of pressure, and you felt your baby slide into the world. The room was filled with a collective intake of breath.

But the momentary silence that followed was deafening. Your baby didn’t cry. He didn’t make a sound. Panic surged through you as Dr. Martinez and the neonatal team sprang into action.

“He’s not breathing”, Dr. Martinez said calmly, though you could hear the urgency in her voice. The nurses quickly took your baby to the neonatal table, their movements swift and precise. Jensen’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes wide with fear and concern.

“What’s happening?”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why isn’t he crying?”.

Jensen looked at you, his own fear barely contained. “They’re doing everything they can”, he said, trying to sound reassuring. “He’s in good hands”.

The seconds stretched into agonizing minutes as you watched the medical team work on your baby. They were administering oxygen and performing gentle chest compressions, their faces masks of professional concentration.

“Come on, little guy”, Jensen murmured, his voice breaking. “You can do this”.

Dr. Martinez continued her efforts, her calm demeanor never wavering. Then, after what felt like an eternity, a tiny, fragile cry pierced the air. It was weak, but it was there. Relief and joy surged through you, and tears streamed down your face.

Jensen exhaled a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, his gaze never leaving the tiny, fragile form of your baby. His hand trembled slightly as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“He’s crying”, Jensen whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

The sound of your baby’s cry, though weak, filled the room. It was a beautiful, heartbreaking sound that tugged at your heartstrings. You looked at Jensen, his eyes reflecting the same mix of relief and concern that you felt.

The neonatal team continued their work, ensuring your baby was stable and breathing properly. Dr. Martinez moved back to your side, her expression reassuring. “He’s doing better now”.

Jensen’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes never leaving your baby. “He’s so small”, he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

As Dr. Martinez and the nurses moved to fix you up, cleaning and stitching where necessary, your eyes remained locked on your baby’s fragile form. The emotions swirling inside you were almost too heavy to bear, and silent tears streamed down your face. Jensen’s grip on your hand tightened, his thumb gently stroking your skin in a soothing gesture.

“He’s so so small”, Jensen murmured again, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and concern.

The nurses worked quickly and efficiently, ensuring that you were as comfortable as possible while also preparing your baby for the next steps in his care. The neonatal team continued to monitor his vital signs.

“When can I hold him?”, you asked shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. The need to hold your baby, to feel his warmth against your skin, was overwhelming.

Dr. Martinez looked at you with empathy. “We need to make sure he’s stable first”, she said gently. “But I promise, as soon as it’s safe, we’ll let you hold him”.

Your heart ached with longing, but you nodded, understanding the importance of your baby’s health and stability. Jensen leaned in closer, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “He’s going to be okay”, he whispered, his voice filled with conviction.

The minutes passed slowly as you and Jensen watched the medical team care for your son. Despite the initial scare, his cries grew a bit stronger, and his breathing became more regular. Each small sign of improvement filled you with hope.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the neonatal nurses approached you with a gentle smile. “He’s doing better”, she said. “He’s stable enough for you to hold him for a little while”.

Tears of relief filled your eyes as the nurse carefully lifted your baby from the incubator and brought him over to you.

It was the first time both of you were able to truly look at him. The sight of your baby connected to tubes and monitors broke your heart even more. His tiny cries echoed softly in the room, a fragile reminder of his early arrival. But as the nurse carefully lifted him and brought him closer, his cries began to quiet.

The nurse gently lowered your hospital gown and placed his little body on your bare chest. His skin was warm and soft, and you barely felt his weight. At just 1750 grams and about 41 centimeters when stretched out, he was incredibly small. But right now, he was all curled up against your chest, seeking comfort and warmth.

The moment he made contact with you, his tiny body seemed to relax. His cries faded into soft, contented sounds, and he nestled into you, his little hands curling instinctively against your skin. Tears of overwhelming love and relief streamed down your face as you held him close, your heart swelling with a mixture of awe and protectiveness.

Jensen leaned in closer, his eyes shining with tears of joy as he looked at your son. “He’s beautiful”, he whispered.

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of your emotions. You gently stroked your baby’s back, marveling at the softness of his skin and the tiny movements he made as he adjusted against you. His breathing, though aided by the tubes, seemed steadier now, and you could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against yours.

“Hi, little one”, you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Welcome to the world”.

The nurse smiled warmly, her eyes reflecting the tender moment. “Skin-to-skin contact is very important”, she said softly. “It helps regulate his body temperature, heart rate, and breathing. You’re doing great”.

Dr. Martinez approached and looked down at you, her expression gentle yet optimistic. “He’s doing incredibly well”, she said, her voice filled with reassurance. “His lungs are stronger than we expected for a baby born at 32 weeks. If he continues to progress like this, we might be able to remove the tubes tomorrow”.

Relief and hope surged through you at her words. “Really?”, you asked, your voice trembling with emotion. “That’s amazing”.

Dr. Martinez nodded, a smile spreading across her face. “Yes, he’s a strong little boy. The initial struggles are common, but he’s responding well to the treatments and your care. We’ll monitor him closely, but I’m very optimistic”.

Jensen’s eyes shone with pride and joy. “Did you hear that, little guy?”, he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “You’re doing so well. We’re so proud of you”.

A few minutes later, a nurse spoke up. “I’m sorry, but we need to put him back in the incubator now”, she said gently. “He needs to stay warm and continue getting the support he needs”.

Jensen’s face showed a mix of longing and understanding. He hadn’t even had the chance to hold his son yet, and you could see the pain of that in his eyes. You gave him a small, reassuring smile, knowing that his time would come soon.

You looked down at your tiny son, savoring the last few moments before he had to go back to the incubator. “We love you so much”, you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Stay strong”.

The nurse carefully lifted your baby from your chest, and his tiny cries resumed briefly before he was settled back in the incubator. Despite the brief time you had held him, you felt a profound connection that gave you strength and hope.

You watched with tears in your eyes as they wheeled your baby away, the incubator providing a cocoon of warmth and safety. The sight of his tiny form surrounded by the equipment necessary to support his early arrival tugged at your heart, but you knew it was what he needed to grow stronger.

After a few moments, the nurses gently helped you into a wheelchair, preparing to take you to your room. Jensen was right by your side, his hand never leaving yours. You could see the worry etched on his face, despite his best efforts to hide it. He tried to maintain a calm and reassuring demeanor, but the disappointment and concern were clear in his eyes. He wanted nothing more than for his son to be healthy and for you to be happy.

As you were wheeled down the hall, Jensen stayed close. He helped you settle into your room, adjusting the blankets and making sure you were comfortable. His movements were gentle but filled with a restless energy, reflecting his inner turmoil.

Once you were settled, Jensen pulled a chair close to your bed and sat down, his eyes meeting yours. “How are you feeling?”, he asked softly, his voice tinged with concern.

“I’m okay”, you replied, though the exhaustion and emotional strain were evident in your voice. “Just…worried".

Jensen reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently. “He’s a fighter”, he said, his voice filled with conviction. “He’s already shown us how strong he is. And the doctors and nurses here are incredible. They’re going to take great care of him”.

You nodded, trying to draw strength from his words. “I just wish we could hold him. It feels so hard to let him go back to the incubator”.

“I know”, Jensen said, his eyes reflecting the same longing. “I haven’t even had the chance to hold him yet. But we have to trust that this is what he needs right now. He’ll be in our arms soon enough”.

The minutes ticked by slowly, the room filled with a heavy silence as both of you processed the events of the day.

“I’m so proud of you”, Jensen said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. “You’ve been so strong through all of this. I can’t imagine how hard it must be, but you’ve handled it with so much courage”.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you gave him a small, grateful smile.

Jensen leaned in and kissed your forehead tenderly. “Try to sleep, baby”, he whispered, his voice soothing and gentle. “He’s in good hands. We need to be strong for him”.

You nodded, knowing he was right, but the emotions swirling within you made it hard to relax. Jensen stayed by your side, his hand still holding yours, offering silent support. You closed your eyes, trying to let the exhaustion take over, but your mind kept drifting back to your son.

As you lay there, you felt Jensen’s presence next to you, a comforting anchor in the storm of emotions. His thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand, a rhythmic and calming motion that gradually helped you drift closer to sleep.

The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the hospital equipment and the occasional distant sound from the hallways.

Despite the worry gnawing at your heart, the physical and emotional toll of the day eventually pulled you into a restless sleep.

Jensen stayed awake for a while longer, his eyes fixed on you as you slept. He brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his heart aching with the weight of his own emotions. He wanted nothing more than to see you and your baby boy healthy and happy.

Eventually, Jensen drifted asleep with his head resting beside you on the bed, his hand still holding yours. The emotional and physical exhaustion of the day had finally caught up to him, and despite his best efforts to stay vigilant, he succumbed to the need for rest.

After about an hour, the nurse returned to check your vitals. She moved quietly and efficiently, her practiced hands ensuring you were stable. As she looked over at Jensen, she saw him sleeping uncomfortably, his body awkwardly slumped over the side of the bed.

With a gentle smile, the nurse approached Jensen and softly touched his shoulder. “Mr. Ackles”, she whispered, her voice gentle and kind. “You should rest on the couch. You’ll be more comfortable there”.

Jensen stirred, blinking sleepily as he looked up at the nurse, then at you. He nodded, realizing she was right. “Thank you”, he mumbled, his voice hoarse with fatigue. He gently released your hand, making sure not to disturb you, and stood up.

The nurse helped him get settled on the small couch in the corner of the room. She adjusted a blanket over him and made sure he had a pillow for support. “Try to get some rest”, she said softly. “Your wife and baby need you strong and well-rested too”.

Jensen nodded gratefully, the weight of the day’s emotions still evident in his tired eyes. Even though you weren’t married, hearing the nurse refer to you as his wife stirred something inside him. It was a thought he had pondered before, but in that moment, the significance of it resonated deeply. However, he was too exhausted to dwell on it for long.

Within seconds, Jensen fell asleep on the couch, the blanket providing a small measure of comfort as he finally allowed himself to rest.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @anacarolinadasf @quietgirll75

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine - Chapter five: “Our flaws are who we really are”

Summary: Spencer and (Y/N) have to return to work, and for once, the idea isn't appealing to any of them. There is a new member in the team...  Word count: 6.010 Warnings: Nothing but some Criminal Minds case info and some curses. A/N:  Is it weird to consider a 6K words chapter "short"?

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter (post date: September 25th)

(Y/N)’s point of view

Because being a mother, a wife, an FBI S.S.A. and part of the BAU wasn’t stressful enough, I decided to finish my Ph.D. after Raven was born. I still had one more year left, but my husband supported me to fish it.

After getting shot in the neck that year, Spencer took a month off and we returned to the BAU together. I will never forget the first day we left Raven with my mom at our place. Spencer wouldn’t let our baby go that morning. We were standing in the middle of our living room, mom stared at us, nearly chuckling, as my husband kept talking to Raven, explaining what would happen.

- “So, remember what I told you, Raven. You are going to stay here with your Nana until we come back from work. If things go well, we won’t go out of town on a case today.”

- “Things are going to go well.”- Mom pointed out, but I guess neither of us was paying attention to her. I kissed Raven’s forehead one more time and sighed.

- “I love you, birdie. Be good with Nana, ok?”

- “She is three months old. She can’t be naughty.”- Mom added, chortling.

- “She can. Trust me.”- I turned to her and shook my head.

- “Ok kids, you are running late. Give me my granddaughter.”- Mom stood next to us and reached out her arms to grab Raven. But Spencer didn’t move. He held our baby closer to his chest and sighed, staring at her big, brown eyes.

- “I love you so much.”- he whispered against her forehead as he kissed her carefully.- “Dad will be thinking of you all day long.”

It melted my heart to watch him being so loving and sweet with our baby girl. I always knew he was going to be a good dad, but watching him in action was a completely different thing. It was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. I knew he didn’t want to leave her alone, because of course, neither did I. But we had to.

Mom walked to him and literally took Raven from his hands. Spencer looked at her and frowned, ready to argue. But stopped himself in his tracks. He knew he had to let her go that morning, even when it hurt.

- “We are going to be fine.”- mom assured us with a big smile. - “I’ll call you at noon, and you can text me whenever you want. Now go there and be heroes. Make your baby proud.”

And I guess, that’s something Spencer loves doing, ‘cos after he kissed Raven one last time, he held my hand and headed to the door.

- “Did you realize this is the longest we’ve been alone in over three months?”- I said as I sipped my coffee, and watched Spencer smiling as he drove us to work.

- “I know. It’s weird.”- he replied and chuckled. - “We should get more mommy and daddy alone time.”- I raised an eyebrow as I heard those words and opened my mouth to tease him about his kinks, but the phone interrupted me and made me skip a bit.

- “Is it your mom?”- Spencer asked right away.

- “No, it’s Garcia. Hey Pen, what is it?”

- “Are you guys coming?”- she asked right away.

- “Yeah, we just got late waiting for my mom, ‘cos she is staying with Raven. Why? Do we have a case?”

- “No, I’m just making sure you two are coming today. We miss you.”- I giggled and shook my head, though I knew Penelope couldn’t see me.

- “We’ll be there in ten.”

- “Everything ok?”- my husband asked. - “Do we have to go straight to the jet?”

- “No, she was just anxious to know if we were coming.”

- “I hope she baked us cupcakes.”

- “I’m sure she did.”- I replied and rubbed his leg with my left hand as he drove. We hummed to the song on the radio, the first non-kid song we had heard in weeks, and we drank our mugs of coffee as we got to work.

- “I miss her already.”- I whispered after a few minutes of silence.

- “I didn’t want to tell you, but I miss her too.”- Spencer replied and we both sighed.

- “But she is going to be ok.”- I assured her- “Mom is a pro.”

- “Yeah, I know. I’m glad Sofia can help us, otherwise, I would have lost my mind. I could never leave her at daycare. I would have rather taken her to the BAU with us than leave her with strangers.”

- “You know we will have to send her to school eventually.”- I teased Spencer and tried not to laugh as he parked in our old parking spot at work and neither of us moved for a few seconds.

- “I know she will eventually have to go to school, but I am not ready to think of that today.”- my husband whispered. I looked at him and nodded, holding his hand.

- “One day at a time.”- I replied and cut him a smile.

- “One day at a time.”- he repeated and leaned in to crush his mouth on mine. His kiss was sweet and slow, he took his time, rubbing his lips against mine and tasting me.

- “Come on kid!!”- and of course, Morgan had to ruin it all. - “Let the lady go and get to work!”- he teased as he knocked on our window, nearly killing us with a heart attack.

- “We hadn’t had a minute alone since Raven was born, and you had to interrupt us!”- I argued as soon as I stepped out of the car. Derek chuckled and opened his arms, giving me a triple hug before I could continue talking.

- “I missed you, pretty girl. How is my baby girl?”

- “She is so big! She started grabbing everything and putting it in her mouth. She is so cute!”- I quickly replied and nearly took my phone to show him the million pictures we had. But I stopped on time. I had promised myself I wasn’t going to be that kind of mom, pushing their baby pictures on everybody’s face. I always hated that, and I didn’t want people to hate me as well. At that minute, all I really wanted was to come back to work and find everything just as we had left it.

Of course, it wasn’t. The only constant at the BAU, I guess, was change.

Garcia was, in fact, waiting for us with homemade cupcakes and cookies. That was the sweet part of our morning. Then came the meeting with Hotch, to catch up with everything that had happened when we had been away. He told us about Alex Blake’s departure, how she had quit the FBI and decided to move to Boston, with her husband, and teach full-time. We both knew it, she had called us to deliver the news before leaving, and though we invited her over, I knew it was too much for her to see Spencer again. She had developed a motherly bond with him, and watching him get hurt had pulled a string in her. One she didn’t want to relive. I guess some wounds are not meant to heal. The BAU can cause you that.

- “And are we getting a new teammate?”- I asked Hotch, and he nodded immediately.

- “Yes, but so far I’ve interviewed nine people, and I still haven’t found the right one.”

- “Nine? Have you tried with someone we know? Maybe bringing back Emily.”- Spencer suggested, reading my mind.

- “I already tried, she is not interested at the moment. But if things go well tomorrow, we might get a new member. Despite all that, today you just have to worry about catching up with work. You’ve been out for a long while, and we needed you back.”

- “We are ready.”- I replied and stood up from my chair right away. - “Anything else, sir?”

- “I just wanted to make it clear I can’t keep any of you in Quantico anymore. You’ll have to start traveling to the cases with us. Are you both ready for that?”

I knew neither of us wanted to do it, but we had to. It was our job, and we had to do it. So we agreed, stood up, and walked back to our desks.

- “We missed you here.”- JJ said from her desk and smiled at us. - “It was too quiet without your facts, Spence.”

- “It’s nice coming back.”- my husband replied with a warm smile. I looked at him and sighed at the sight of the pictures on his desk. He had three family pictures framed, one from our wedding, one from our first Comic Con together a million years ago, and one with Raven. Our first picture as a family. My phone hummed and a picture of mom and Raven playing made my day. So I walked to my husband and interrupted whatever he was talking about with JJ to show him the picture. He smiled and chuckled, pleased to see our baby girl was having a good time with her grandma.

Spencer’s point of view

Going back to work after Raven was born was a mistake. Now that I see it in retrospect, that was the moment we should have stopped. I could have started teaching full-time, like (Y/N) wanted me to do. And she would have finished her Ph.D. and might even have taught with me. We could have had a different life. More calm, at home. We wouldn’t have missed all the important moments in Raven’s life like we did. We would have been there when she needed us.

We wouldn't have ended as wounded as we did. With more emotional scars than we could ever deal with. On the bright side, at least we are still together. Despite the hell we went through.

The newest team member was Kate Callahan. We had seen her around in some FBI get-togethers like the time we all did karaoke at Rossi’s favorite bar. (Y/N) remembered that when we bumped into her the following morning, at the elevator.

- “You were singing karaoke at the Benjamin the night it closed.”- (Y/N) pointed out as the three of us shared the elevator on our way to the 6th floor. That’s how I guessed Hotch was about to interview her for the position.

- “I was! Good memory.”- Kate smiled at us and added - “Billy Joel might have died a little that night.”

- “Sadly he was not the only one.”- I replied and chuckled. - “He got the team started, but we went on to do a six-song set.”

- “The 80s took a fatal hit if I remember correctly.”- Kate said, chuckling along with my wife, and somehow I realized Kate would make an amazing match with ma cherie. They shared a very similar sarcastic sense of humor.

- “Have you seen the place that took over?”- she asked us and both of us shook our heads at the same time. Since we had turned into parents, our social life was basically nonexistent. - “It's like techno and twerking.”

- “It's not really my crowd.”- I replied and Kate turned to me immediately, shocked by my answer.

- “What? You don't twerk?”- I frowned and shook my head, somehow embarrassed by my own answer. Meanwhile, my wife had to cover her mouth so as not to laugh in my face.

- “I was... I was kidding.”- Kate explained, surprised I hadn’t got it. - “I don't twerk.”

- “Neither do we, don't worry”- my wife added and chuckled. The three of us walked out of the elevator and I hurried to open the door for Kate and my wife.

- “Ah. A gentleman and a scholar.”- Callahan pointed out and I just smiled.

- “Agent Hotchner's office is the first one at the top of the stairs.”- I said and though she looked at me confused I knew why she was there, she just thanked me and walked away.

- “Good luck!”- (Y/N) said and smiled at her. Kate nodded and disappeared.

- “We have to schedule Raven’s next pediatrician appointment.”- I said, leaving my things on my desk and turning to look at my wife, who just nodded. - “I’ll call the doctor's office at lunchtime, ok?”-I wrote it down though I knew I wasn’t going to forget it. (Y/N) simply stared at me and sighed.

- “Let’s pray we are in town to take Raven to that appointment. I don’t wanna miss it.”- I was about to tell my wife we couldn’t foresee how things would go in the BAU when Rossi, JJ, Penelope, and Derek walked into the bullpen, all of them talking at the same time.

- “Hotch talked to Emily.”- JJ announced and I turned to my wife knowing Em wasn’t planning on returning to the team.

- “And?”- Garcia was clearly excited by what she had just heard.

- “She just doesn't want to come back.”- Rossi killed all her hopes with just one sentence. I took a few steps closer to the team as I heard Pen arguing with David’s words.

- “Why? She loves us!”

- “For what it's worth, Hotch is interviewing someone we've met before.”- I announced and (Y/N) nodded.

- “He is?”- JJ asked right away and everybody turned to Hotch’s office to try to catch a glimpse of the candidate.

- “Yes. And it’s someone we actually like”- (Y/N) added from her desk. I turned to her and she smiled back.

- “How many candidates is that now?”- Derek asked

- “This one makes lucky number 10.”- Rossi announced and my Garcia turned to him shocked.

- “Ten candidates? Are you for real? And no one ever mentioned that? See, this is what happens when I don't sleep. I miss things.”- Pen whispered and I wondered why she wasn't sleeping well. But I didn’t get to ask, she just continued talking. - “Now can someone tell me who this person is? Are they nice? Why is that the first question I always ask?”

Pen started rambling as my wife explained we had bumped into agent Callahan on the way over. All of our friends nodded as she told us what had happened until JJ mentioned the one fact I wished we all could have forgotten.

- “Didn’t she use to work with Seaver? At Andy Swan’s Unit?”

- “What?”- (Y/N) asked as her face fell- “She is Seaver’s friend?”

- “You know, pretty girl, that simple fact doesn’t mean she has to be your enemy.”- Derek explained with a silly grin on his face. (Y/N) just turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

- “Of course, it doesn’t”.- she whispered and made a short pause before she added - “But did you just meet me or what?”- I looked at my wife and raised an eyebrow. She just smiled and shook her head.

- “You already liked her, face it.”- I whispered and (Y/N) sighed.

- “Yeah… but what if Seaver talked shit about me ‘cos I was mean to her when she was part of the team.”

- “Then she wouldn’t be lying.”- JJ replied and my wife glared at her immediately- “What? you know you weren’t nice.”

- “I know that, but you weren’t here to witness the whole deal, so you don’t know the whole story.”- the way (Y/N) nearly spat those words on JJ’s face left me speechless. And JJ didn’t know how to react either. So she just turned around and looked at me, shocked.

- “Come on, don’t argue.”- Pen said and stood between JJ and my wife. - “We have to stay together, we are a team, and we might be getting a new member.”- her cell phone finished her speech and her face went pale in a second.

- “What is it?”- Rossi asked, noticing her change.

- “The Bakersfield’s unsub killed again.”- she mumbled and started walking, she had to tell Hotch.

I looked at (Y/N) and she sighed. She knew she had been rude to JJ, though her comment hadn’t been the best either.

- “I’m sorry I snapped”- (Y/N) said and cut JJ a short smile. She was being honest, and I knew it was hard for her to deal with apologies.

- “I’m sorry too, I know it was a hard moment for you… I shouldn’t have said that.”- JJ rubbed her arms as she stared at my wife, and the two of them nodded.

- “Come on, we have a case.”- Rossi said and started walking to the briefing room, I waited for (Y/N) to grab her things and followed her.

- “Everyone, this is SSA Kate Callahan from Andy Swan's unit. She'll be joining the team.”- Hotch announced as soon as he walked into the room with Callahan, who waved at us with a grin.

- “Congratulations.”- I smiled at her as she sat at the other side of the table.

- “How are Andy and Seaver doing?”- Morgan asked her.

- “Oh, they're great and they say hello. They told me a lot about all of you.”- Kate said with a cheerful voice, and the entire team stared at my wife, who just nodded at Callahan with a warm smile, ignoring them. They weren't being subtle at all, and (Y/N) knew it.

- “We can get started.”- Hotch said and Pen started presenting the case.

(Y/N)’s point of view

It was sad knowing Prentiss didn’t want to come back to the team. I knew she loved her job at Interpol, but I always hoped one day she’d return to us. I was also feeling weird about JJ. I didn’t have any logical reason to snap at her the way I did, but something inside of me felt uneasy about her. However, she was my friend, so I did my best to put that feeling aside and be nicer to her. I know when I’m upset I can be incredibly hurtful, and that’s no way to treat a friend.

I called my mom as we gathered our things to get to the plane and announced to her we were heading to California.

- “We have been consulting on this case, and this guy just dumped the third body, so we are heading over right now.”- I explained as I grabbed my casefile, purse and looked at Spencer.

- “Take care, peanut. I will keep you posted on this beautiful baby girl.”- mom said and I heard her kissing my daughter’s cheeks.

- “Thank you, mom. I love you.”- I sighed after I hung up and shook my head. - “I hate leaving her behind.”

- “I know. Me too.”- Spencer whispered and held my hand- “Let’s hope we catch this guy fast.”

That day, Hotch paired me with Rossi and Kate. And guess what? I enjoyed it more than I imagined I would, considering we were trying to catch a serial killer. But Callahan was a great addition to the team. She was fun witty and incredibly smart. She had amazing comebacks to any random comment I would make. Three hours in the field and we were besties already. That made me feel more confident about anything that Seaver might have said to her about me.

We were back at the police station. Spencer was working on the geographic profile and Garcia was on the phone from Virginia, updating us on the number of websites that she found on the deep web where our suspect got to buy limbs from the victims. He wasn’t the unsub we were looking for, just… a weirdo with a problem. At least we already had a profile, and it felt like we were a little closer to catching our guy.

- “You'd think after 10 years I'd seen it all.”- Garcia sighed through the line. I knew she was definitely shocked by what she had found on those sites. It was sick, to be honest.

- “How many sites are there, mama?”- Derek asked her as I stared at the board my husband was working on. I was sitting at the other side of the table, next to Kate, going through the case file again.

- “Hundreds. And that gem of a fellow you've got in custody has looked at all of them at one time or another.”- Garcia explained.

- “I’m guessing there is no lead to get our unsub, right?”- I asked her and Pen automatically explained there wasn’t.

- “Anonymity is huge for these sites. They use a Tor network, which is an onion router. The point is, you're not gonna be able to find anyone this way. Do you know there are actual variations on a disarticulation fetish?”- my friend sighed at the other side of the line and whispered. - “I need baby kitten pics asap.”

- “Oh! Have you seen the hippo who lives with the family?”- Kate asked out of the blue, and I turned to her confused.

- “What?”- Garcia asked right away.

- “Sleeps with a blanket, gets massages, eats better than I do.”- Kate explained and looked at me nodding.

- “Where is that?”- Pen questioned and I could almost picture her face as she googled it.

- “South Africa. It's amazing.”- Kate explained. Morgan and Spencer turned to us and raised an eyebrow as Garcia got hyperventilated at the other side of the line and continued talking.

- “Trust me, I have an arsenal of cuteness. Have you seen the one with the baby elephant…”

- “Oh, with the baby chicks?”- Kate interrupted her, excited as well

- “Yes, I love that one!”

- “I love the one with the kitten cuddling with a baby, it’s so cute!”- I added and both Kate and Pen agreed with me, very enthusiastically. - "I keep telling Spencer we should get a kitten for Raven to grow up with, but he is..."

- “Uh, hey, you guys?”- Spencer looked at us from the board and I nodded.

- “Sorry. Sorry.”- the three of us said at the same time as my husband took us all back to work.

- “The most recent victim was taken from Riverside.”- he pointed out. - “That's more than 2 1/2 hours away from here.”

- “So his comfort zone isn't limited to here.”- Morgan added.

- “That's not good. He's got a lot more confidence than we thought.”- Kate said as I nodded.

- “Yeah, but this area has to mean something to him.”- I pointed out and Morgan supported my words.

- “Yes, he's leaving vics here, so he must have some connection to Bakersfield.”

- “The M.E. says he's gotten better at ligating each victim, which means he may have had practice.”- Spencer pointed out as he walked closer to the table and stood next to me.

- “On what?”- Morgan asked

- “We didn't originally profile him as an acrotomophile, but that sort of attraction typically has deep roots in childhood.”- my husband added.

- “That makes sense, maybe growing up he was constantly around dead bodies. Maybe his family had a funeral home.”- I said and my husband nodded at my words.

- “Exactly, it wasn't that big of a leap for him.”- Kate added, supporting my thoughts.

- “It could be. We know he wasn't social enough to continue the family tradition, so maybe he found work in a morgue or a hospital.”- Morgan pointed out.

- “When you say work…”- Garcia asked right away.

- “Security guard, janitor, anything entry level.”- I explained to her and heard her typing as I spoke.

- “Uh, the UC system has a medical facility in Bakersfield.”- she announced in a few seconds.

- “Anyone fired recently?”- Spencer asked him.

- “No, but there's an anatomy Professor on sabbatical.”

- “What's his name?” I asked and grabbed a pen right away.

- “Dylan Myers.”

The team went to the suspect’s house and left me and Spencer at the police station. I wasn’t complaining that time, I didn’t want to go. A part of my brain was relieved neither of us was in danger during that case. I wanted to go back home and hold my baby, hopefully, that very same night.

That last part was probably not going to happen when we got a call from Hotch, telling us the unsub wasn’t there. So the search for a secondary location started. However, Garcia had nothing on the guy, and the search was turning incredibly frustrating.

I was at the kitchenette in the police station, pouring a fresh cup of coffee for Spencer. He was a few feet away from me, reading the M.E. reports one more time. That was when I saw him reach the bullet scar on his neck and rub it. He would do it from time to time, I was sure it hurt, though he always denied it. Surely, he didn’t want to worry me. But nevertheless, I was worried. The fear of getting hurt or even worse had always been at the back of my brain, since I joined the BAU. But now that I was a mother, facing my own mortality was harder than ever.

- “Kid? Are you ok?”- I heard Morgan ask my husband as he walked into the room. I grabbed the cup I had poured for Spencer and headed in their direction.

- “Yeah. You?”- he replied, pretending nothing was bothering him. And Derek acted like he didn’t notice. A dangerous game to play at the BAU, if you ask me.

- “Just tired.”

- “Here hon.”- I gave my husband his cup of coffee and he sat straight on his chair right away, acting as if he wasn’t in pain at all. That was still upsetting to me, knowing Spencer wouldn’t be honest about those tiny things because he still wanted to protect me.

- “Dr. Lee sent this over. The most recent victim had more than just leather particulates in her stomach.”- Spencer explained to Morgan as I sat next to him and went through the file again. - “She chewed through it, leaving entire chunks behind. She also found traces of horse hair. He's using a bridle.”

- “This guy could have used anything. Why that?”- Morgan questioned and Spencer tried to get an answer.

- “It's either specific to his fantasy or something he had easy access to.”

- “How many horse ranches are around here?”- Derek asked my husband, but before he could reply, I said:

- “One hundred and thirty-four.”- Morgan frowned and turned to me as Spencer smiled and looked at the M.E report in his hands.

- “You are spending too much time with your husband, I’m gonna ask Hotch to pair us together instead.”- the phone interrupted our conversation, and speak of the devil, it was Hotch, with shocking news. Our suspect David Myers wasn’t actually the unsub, but his first victim and the killer had framed him.

- “That’s what I call a plot twist”- I whispered as I heard Hotch’s explanation.

- “He took out a lot of rage on this man for a reason.”- our Unit Chief added.

- “Maybe this Dylan Myers stood in the way of the unsub's true object of affection.”- Spencer suggested.

- “Well, it makes sense since we thought the first and second victims were connected.”- I added, but Spencer quickly shook his head.

- “Only Dylan Myers was single.”

- “Garcia, was Dylan Myers dating anyone?”- Hotch asked at the other side of the line.

- “He was a bit of a hermit, and like I said, zero social media skills. Did go old school with a landline. Tracking his frequently called numbers. He called a young woman named Christine Locke several times. She's a former student, lives in Bakersfield.”- Garcia made a pause and somehow, we all knew exactly what she was going to say next. - “And she's missing. Sending you her picture now.”

We stared at our cell phone’s screen and watched the image of a young blond girl appear in front of us.

- “She looks like the second victim.”- I whispered and looked at my husband for a moment, he was frowning, trying to connect the dots in this crime. If you ask me, he was desperate to crack it and go back home.

- “Did she have a restraining order out on anyone?”- Hotch asked.

- “Checking now.”- Garcia replied and typed as fast as she could. - “Uh, yes. She filed for and was granted a restraining order on August 6 from Steven Parkett.”

- “And where is he?”- I asked quickly, and Pen answered in a second.

- “Probably on his way to hell in a handbasket, munchkin. He was raised and lives at a cattle ranch and slaughterhouse in Bishopville just outside of Bakersfield. Sending you the coordinates now.”

The team got the killer, and before we knew it, we were on the plane, on our way back home. JJ and Morgan welcomed Kate with a long speech about their battle scars, that made me chuckle from the other side of the plane, at least the few minutes it lasted, ‘cos soon everybody around me was snoring. Everyone but me. Somehow I couldn’t close my eyes. I was too excited about going back home and holding my daughter in my arms. So I stood up carefully, trying not to wake Spencer, who was softly snoring next to me, and walked to the kitchenette to make myself a cup of tea.

The water hadn’t boiled yet when Kate appeared next to me, and cut me a short smile, clearly still half asleep.

- “Is there enough water in that pot for another tea?”- she whispered and I chuckled.

- “The correct question would be: is there enough tea in this plane to keep you awake?”- I answered and Kate Callahan laughed under her breath, trying not to wake any of our teammates.

- “Pick your favorite.”- I whispered and handed her a box with different kinds of teas- “If you need help, I can tell you my favorite pick to keep me awake during trips is Earl Gray.”

- “Earl Gray it is.”- she grabbed one bag and put it in an empty mug. We both stayed quiet for a few minutes. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just a little weird. We hadn’t actually been alone since we met, technically 48 hours earlier.

- “So why don’t you wanna sleep?”- I finally asked her, pouring the hot boiling water in her cup.

- “I can’t stop thinking about the case.”- she simply replied and smiled at me.- “How do you deal with catching a different serial killer every week and not… taking it with you?”

- “That’s a good question. I don’t know how we do it, actually.”- I answered and grabbed my cup with both hands, feeling the warmth against my cold skin right away.

- “Seaver told me a lot about the team when she transferred.”

And there it was, the pink elephant in the room. I bit my lips and looked at Kate, waiting for a snarky comment, a complaint, maybe a threat not to be mean to her. But no. That’s not what happened. Instead, Kate smiled at me and whispered.

- “She said everybody on the team taught her a lot and made her a better agent. Especially you and Prentiss.”

- “Me?”- I didn’t even try to mask how shocked I was by that confession. It made no sense. Yes, at the end Seaver and I were on better terms, but she wasn’t my friend. She wasn’t even invited to our wedding. And, like JJ had pointed out a few days earlier in the worst way possible, I hadn’t been nice at Seaver.

- “Yeah, she said you two had a rocky start, but that you were an incredible agent, and that she put to use everything you taught her.”- I raised an eyebrow and waited for the “but” to come any second.

But it never came.

- “I don’t know if Ashley actually meant it.”- I finally confessed and sipped my tea - “I was very mean to her when she joined the team. We had… considerable issues.”

- “Whatever it was, you two managed to work together no matter what, and you really taught her a lot. She was very proud to have worked alongside you and agent Prentiss.”- I tried to read Kate, try to find any trace of deceit, irony, or any lead that showed me she was lying. But there was nothing. Was I losing my profiler’s touch? Or was she actually being honest?

- “Wow.”- that was all I managed to say. - “I’m glad we were a good school for her.”

- “You definitely were. She said it was the first time she actually managed to skip her father’s stigma and be herself.”- I sipped my cup and nodded. On that very same plane, I had yelled at Ashley about how her father had killed my aunt. It felt like ages ago. In another life.

- “So, how long have you and Spencer been together?”- Kate asked after a few seconds. I smiled and whispered.

- “It’s gonna be three years already since we got married, and four since we started dating.”

- “You didn’t wait long to tie the knot!”- she replied, shocked, and raised an eyebrow.

- “It might sound weird, but most people thought it took us too long.”- it was funny looking back now, but god! It had been a long journey.

- “Really? Why?”

- “‘Cos we were in love for four years and a half and none of us said a word about our feelings.”- I confessed and giggled. Kate wide opened her eyes, shocked.

- “You what?!”

- “Yeah! We wasted four years in love with each other ‘cos we were both terrified to deal with our feelings.”

- “Oh my god! That’s… like a rom-com!”- Callahan chuckled and I smiled, thinking it was funny now, but back when Ashley was in the team, it was the closest I had ever been to hell on earth.

- “Yeah, that’s why after we started dating, we decided to get married very soon, and no one was actually shocked by that.”

- “And do you have kids?”- Kate asked, and I had to do my best effort not to jump with excitement when I started talking about our daughter.

- “One daughter, Raven Marie. She is three months and a half.”- I made my best effort not to be the kind of mom I always made fun of, showing pictures of their babies to anyone they could. Until I heard Kate ask the questions:

- “Do you have pictures?”- and I know I grinned like a maniac, grabbing my phone.

- “I have so many!”

For the rest of the trip, Callahan and I stayed in the kitchenette of the plane, drinking tea and chatting. She told me she didn’t have kids of her own yet, but that she and her husband were guardians of her little niece “Meg” after her sister died. I didn’t ask much about it 'cause it was clearly a sensitive subject, but she did tell me a lot about Meg. She was thirteen already, which gave me a glimpse of what raising a teenager meant. And it sounded creepy.

That morning we reached home and found my mom walking in the living room with baby Raven. I nearly ran to her and held her in my arms. Me and Spencer kissed her chubby cheeks and somehow, I felt at peace. That’s a feeling I only get when we are all together, at home. A feeling that’s very elusive when you are an SSA. 

Previous chapter | Next chapter (post date: September 25th)

[oldblackhat]

Y’all this petition going around - I've seen it twice now - the one that includes: “As Neil Gaiman has offered to step back, there is no reason for the production of the TV series to stop” (full text below)

Oh my God y’all please Do Not sign that!

I know we are all having different reactions and I respect that — but y’all I'm concerned that this petition in particular is actually kinda doing his PR team’s work for them!

If you decide you want to sign a petition about saving GO season3 then please consider signing one that requests he be fired (i.e. http://bit.ly/firegaiman) and/or includes stipulations about what “step back” actually means in practice (because we still don’t know).

We still don't know what “discussions about possible production changes” and “offered to step back”/“take a back seat” actually means in terms of degree of removal and on-the-ground changes. Will he be on set at all (possibly getting access to interact with young female staff)? How (if at all) will he be referenced in official promotions and interviews for the show?

Is there a possible world where Amazon accepts Neils offer but Amazon/Neils definition of “step back” is Wholey Insufficient and nothing near as comprehensive as we’re all hoping? Unfortunately, I think yes! Yes there is.

Until we know for sure what “step back” actually means (so we can know if it’s enough) I think we need to not wave the victory banner just yet and keep pushing for his removal (so if you’re going to sign a petition—please choose a different one)

I think it’s fine to hope that it means he’ll be cut out as thoroughly as we all hope—but I think it’s honestly kinda dangerous to assume this to be true (without sufficient evidence) to the point of signing a petition that says since he’s “offered to step back, there is no reason for the production….to stop”.

It’s dangerous in that you are setting yourself up for more pain in the future if you convince yourself this “step back” is going to be to a sufficient degree — and we later learn that it is not.

And it’s dangerous because y’all I do think this petition in particular is one his PR team would support getting as many signatures as possible.

Y’all I think his lawyers and PR team want people focusing on renewing the show instead of focusing on the allegations. They want us to take his “offer to step back”, be satisfied with it, and actively shift attention away from how bad he is towards unpausing production.

It’s in the phrasing. Honestly nothing in this petition makes it clear to me whether the writer is or isn’t a rape apologist. I’m not saying they are but I can’t tell and I think that’s a pretty major red flag. It’s how he only gets mentioned one time: “as Neil Gaiman has offered to step back, there is no reason for the production….to stop” and there’s no mention of why he’s “offering to step back” (the five women who’ve come forward)

And of course since he’s “not admitting to any wrongdoing” he gets to play the white knight offering to gallantly step back so the show can go on (sickening). And again the only reference to him in this petition is that he’s “offered to step back” — what a nice gentle phrasing that doesn’t disallow a white knight interpretation!

Now i want to be clear — I am Not saying helping his PR is the intent of anyone who has already signed this petition or reblogged it — I’m assuming best intentions here (which would be not realizing that signing/reblogging this is arguably helping his PR team)

But y’all again if you decide you want to sign a petition about saving GO season3 please sign and share one like this http://bit.ly/firegaiman that explicitly stipulates to fire him and includes: “We feel very strongly that we cannot financially support Good Omens with Mr. Gaiman still in a position of power within it and are calling for his immediate dismissal.” Because again yall we don’t know if the “step back” currently being discussed behind closed doors will be enough so we should still be pushing for his removal.

Or make a new petition that stipulates he not be on set, or anywhere near young female staff, and also not be discussed positively in any promotional material, etc.

And if pushing for him to be truly sufficiently uninvolved does help lead to this show being cancelled — then that might mean his being sufficiently uninvolved just wasn’t about to be on the table for whatever reason — and if that’s the case then it’s probably for the best the show doesn’t continue :/

(i know i hope not i honestly do hope he can be removed sufficiently & the show can go on but we can’t know yet whether he is going to be sufficiently removed)

Here’s a screenshot of the full text of the petition I don’t think you should sign:

Please please please if you decide you want to sign a petition about saving GO season3 please sign and share one like this instead:

[buzzybee3]

https://artfight.net/~BuzzyBee3

So um.. YES?

I joined art fight and stuff the other day… yay

Anyways I did random and got seafoam so uh stardust can suck it, yea. (Said with love and the slightest bit of confusion 💙)

Anyway, I wanted to join for the other people’s OCs and then realized I only have like 3. So there they are. My Fnaf OC Venus. An alien species I made a while back for English and I really like 'em they are cutie patooties. And my Hazbin/Helluva boss Oc I made recently, Aballe, who is an overlord and has plant powers.

See I just really like plants-

Also I figured I’d make myself a creator thingy. So now you get BuzzyBee as a robot. And I kept her on theme. So, yes.

I go into this event with lots of confusion but also I’m excited so this is gonna be fun!

Ref for the OCs and for the moots who’ve only seen the sun and moon stuff… ignore the Hazbin stuff. Also, Aballe is like a demon and is meant to be creepy. So.. discretion advised?

(I made the ref sheets really fast guys. (Forgive me)

———————————————

[ervotica]

you’re an angel, i’m a dog — a.donaldson

pairing; older!art donaldson x fem!reader

warnings; roughly written, badly edited, not beta’d (because when is it ever?), allusions to smut, implied age gap (reader is early 20s, art is early 30s), slight tashi x fem!reader if you squint, infidelity (but tashi is kinda cool with it), just some thoughts about older!art and his pretty girl

a/n; this concept has been eating at me for daysss so i had to write it at least roughly! should we make this a series? (maybe get patrick involved?��) let me know what you think! ART & CHALLENGERS (poly!art & patrick) REQUESTS ARE OPEN! any questions / conversation starters about this particular au are highly appreciated and encouraged!! please come to my inbox 📥 <3

older!art is fucking obsessed with you— you, who comes to every one of his matches, who sits next to his wife in those adorable little tennis skirts you sport just for him, who whoops and cheers from the stands whether he wins or loses.

you’re forbidden fruit. so, naturally, he adores you.

tashi knows, because of course she does. she never pries, never so much as spares you a second glance when he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck and huffs hot air against the shell of your ear. she doesn’t care — you’ve made art better at tennis.

his confidence has skyrocketed since having a pretty thing like you cheering him on, his biggest and most enthusiastic supporter. he plays better, he second guesses himself less, he’s more relaxed.

you’re what’s been missing. the last piece of the puzzle.

an obedient little thing, glued to his side, wagging like a dog at his every command.

he fucking loves it. loves having someone relying on him for love and validation. loves the way you preen under his fervent gaze and flutter your lashes at the slightest touch.

when tashi asks you to join art’s team officially, you almost keel over.

“look, i don’t care that he’s fucking you… or that he’s in love with you. he has a shot at the us open this year, and he needs you by his side to do it.” she says. you’re quick to agree, ever obedient and desperate to please.

“he’s in love with me?”

she scoffs. “you’ve seen the way he looks at you. he almost creams his pants every time you’re in the same room as him.” she tilts your chin upwards with a crooked finger, giving your cheek an affectionate - albeit condescending - pat.

“you two can have your fun— but he has to win this year.”

art’s perched against the doorframe when you turn, corded forearms crossed over his chest. you scrunch your nose, pushing back a smile that crinkles at your eyes despite your efforts.

fucking smitten.

tashi rolls her eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she nudges you towards him.

“go on.”

he opens his arms in greeting and you’re quick to fall into them, your fingers knotting in the shorn hair at his nape. his chest expands beneath your own as he takes a long breath, and he presses his nose to your pulse point, shuddering.

“love you.” he murmurs into your skin.

“love you more.”

he could cry; he doesn’t remember the last time someone told him they loved him and meant it. you’re obsessed with him, almost as much as he is with you.

at his next match, you carry his rackets and send him off with a good luck kiss that has him breathless, grinning as you roll his wad of gum between your teeth that you sucked right from his waiting mouth.

he wins.

how could he not with his pretty girl watching?

and that night, he rewards you with a thorough fucking, whispered love confessions against your lips, and a breathy moan as he cums that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

so, yeah. maybe this life isn’t so bad, after all.

[lavenderspence]

A bunch of cuties in love | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, nicknames (i think that's about it?)

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Running late to a meeting with Strauss, Hotch leaves Jack with his favorite person - you. The scene that greets him when he comes back leads to some realizations. 

Request: Hotch request: BAU!Reader is Jack’s favorite and always spends the day with them when he’s brought along to the office. They have a cute bonding moment that Hotch secretly watches. Cue the “oh god I’m in love with them aren’t I”

A/N: it’s been two months today since I made this blog, and it’s been wild, it’s been fun, and it’s been a little teary. thank you for the love and support! Please enjoy this cute little hotch piece, I had a blast writing it! Thank you to the anon who requested this, and I’d love to hear what you think! Also, I miss old Disney😭

9:23.

On the days you weren’t working on a case, and the only thing you really needed to catch up on was paperwork, your usual start time was 8:30. Yet almost an hour had gone by and he wasn’t in his office like he usually would be.

With a punctual Unit Chief like Aaron Hotchner, it was a shock, and a little nerve-wracking that he was late. 

You’d lie if you didn’t say you were getting a little worried, taking into account the last and only time he’d been late - Foyet attacking him in his own home, leaving him with long-lasting trauma, scars, and without his family. 

You'd never forget that day, and every day after where he was left to suffer, laying the blame on himself. No matter how many times you said it, how many times Rossi patted him on the back, reminding him it wasn't his fault, you knew a part of him still didn't believe it.

And the part of you that cared about him, maybe a little more than you should, didn't have the heart to watch him do this to himself - the silent guilt, the long empty looks. 

You’ve known him awhile, seen him through many of his ups, and just as many as his downs. You’d seen him laugh in glee and beam with happiness, you’d seen him lose it in anger and anguish and you’d seen him cry in heartbreak. 

So much of your life spent beside him, so many memories linked with him, and your team. And much of it you knew was friendly love - your love for Emily and Spencer, JJ and Morgan, Penelope and Rossi. But the love you felt for him was just a tiny bit different, deeper, not the friendly kind. 

You’d only recently started to understand what you were really feeling for him, as recent as the last few weeks. Still new and a little unexplainable at times, you were learning to balance that, within your friendship.

You didn’t think you wanted to pursue anything, right now. It had been a little over two years since he’d lost Haley, since he’d needed to start navigating his life as a single dad, a widower. 

You could still see the pain in his eyes, fresh as the day it had happened. You knew he was managing, but it was still apparent, that it was hitting them both hard.

And Jack? He was a little ray of sunshine in the otherwise gruesome life all of you led - the same could be said about Henry. But Henry was Reid's favorite, as his godfather, you knew the bond between them was unbreakable. 

But Jack? You were his favorite, and he was yours. 

He was your little buddy, your partner in all things art, cartoons, and Disney shows. He was your little helper during all things baking - you'd babysat once and he'd requested chocolate chip, peanut butter cookies and you'd been more than happy to help him make them.

He was a natural baker and a little taster. 

Your love for the little cutie ran as deep as your feelings for his dad.

At the end of the day though, you were a friend, a shoulder both could use to lean on and rely on. You were comfortable in your role within their little family and weren't looking to make any changes then.

9:28.

You were playing with your watch, already having decided you’d be giving him a call if he didn't arrive by 9:30.

Worry was making your hands sweat, and just as you went to wipe them on your pants, the door to the bullpen opened, and in walked a very frantic Hotch - his tie was a little crooked, shirt a little wrinkled, and Jack - a little backpack on his back, and a curious look paired with a timid smile.

Aaron's eyes searched the bullpen, as did Jack's, the little Hotchner noticing you seconds before his father did. You stood up, watching as the blond pulled away from his dad, and on a little run, made his way towards you. 

“Cutiee.” He called out, using the nickname you called him, to address you too. You leaned down when he was a few steps away, accepting his hug, his little arms wrapping around your neck. 

“Hi, cutie.” You greeted him, a wide smile on your face. Hotch had made his way over to you by then, giving you a barely-there smile, but his eyes shone.

“You're late.” You started, pulling to your full height.

“Yeah, Jessica was called on an emergency at the last minute, and Liah is away on a hiking trip, so here we are.” Liah was Hotch's neighbor, she looked after Jack for a few hours when Hotch couldn't stay with him, or Jess was busy.

He looked at his watch, running a hand through his hair, messing it up a little.

“I have a meeting with Strauss…well, right now. Can you please watch him until I get done?” 

“Go, don't make her wait. We'll be okay and we're going to have fun. Right, Jack?” You watched him nod at both you and his dad before Hotch exhaled.

“You're a lifesaver. Be good for Y/N, okay buddy.” Another nod from Jack, and he was on his way to Strauss's office.

‘’Okay Jack, let's see if Aunt Penelope can download a few episodes of ‘The Suite Life’ for us, and then we'll go color and draw for a while. Does that sound good to you?” 

“Very good. Can I also have orange juice?” He asked, taking your hand in his small, soft one, fingers wrapping around your own.

“Let's go see if we have any.” You walked towards the small communal kitchen space, checking the fridge and then you checked the pantry…and, “Bingo. Let's go see the lair.” You led him to Penelope's office.

“Knock, knock, may us mortals enter?” You joked, making your little partner giggle. 

“Us?” Her voice rang from the other side of the door.

“I have sir Hotchner with me. The smaller one.”

“Hey,” Jack said in outrage

“My favorite Hotchner.” You added.

Penelope pulled the door open, beaming at both of you, before she made space for you to enter. 

“Jack, my love, hi,” She raised her hand, letting him give her a high five. Even though she was affectionate, Jack wasn’t as much, especially after Haley. He only hugged a few people now - Jess, his dad, and surprisingly, you. 

It really showed how comfortable he was with you.

“What brings you to my tech cave?” She asked. You raised your brows at him, prompting him to do the talking. 

“Can you, please, download a few episodes of Zack and Cody for us?” His voice rang with its usual child calm and sweetness, fingers intertwined in front of him. 

Penelope's smile softened even more, “Sure thing, sweetie,” Her eyes turned towards you then, “Your tablet?”

“Yes, please.” You knew it was a work tablet, but no one had to know.

“Any requests?” She asked the little guy.

“You pick.”

“Okay-dokey. Should have it in about 10 minutes, my loves.”

“Thank you, Aunt Penelope.”

“Thanks Pen.” You gave her air kisses before you led Jack out and towards his father's office. 

His day had started rocky, hell, the whole night had gone that way. 

Jack had woken up from a nightmare - twice at that. After the second time, he’d asked Aaron to sleep in his bed, too scared and sad to stay in his room.

He’d snoozed his alarm, just once, and had a hard time waking his son up too. He’d had 20 minutes to get himself ready, but Jessica had called 10 minutes before she was supposed to arrive - apologizing because she’d been called on an emergency at work. 

Aaron had to rearrange his whole morning then, already aware he’d be late for work. He’d had to get Jack and his backpack ready and cook him breakfast. All of that, and be in the office before his 9:30 meeting with Strauss. 

Breakfast and preparing Jack for a day at the BAU, he’d done successfully. Arriving on time had been a little tricky, with barely 2 minutes to spare. 

But when he’d walked into the bullpen, Jack spotting you just seconds before he did, and he’d watched your smile grow, he’d known all would be okay. 

Watching you with Jack always brought a warm feeling within him, like he was watching something sacred. You were always patient and kind, always interested in listening to him talk, even though he was a quiet kid, who appreciated quality time more. 

You gave him that too, and a lot of it - you watched cartoons and shows with him. Colored and drew, baked cookies, and played with him whenever he wanted. Any time spent with Jack was about what he wanted, what he liked doing, and above all, making him comfortable. 

Even if it meant cleaning flour off your kitchen floor and whatever had gotten in the drawers too. 

He appreciated, even loved the bond you had with his son, every smile, every hug, and every minute you spend with him. He loved hearing about you from Jack - what you’d done together, what you’d told him, the stories, the jokes, the conversations. 

Hearing his son proclaim you as his favorite person in the BAU had made his heart soar. Taking into account all the time you spent with him, it wasn’t really a surprise. He bonded hard, but once he did, he never went back.

He was much like Aaron himself in that regard. His trust had to be earned, as did his friendship, and it required hard work. Jack was much the same. And you’d successfully earned both of theirs with your beautiful and caring personality. 

He exhaled a breath, checking his watch, step fast, and briefcase in hand. 

11:18.

His meeting with Strauss had run longer than he’d anticipated - over an hour and a half. Diplomacy, politics, budgets, and cuts, they’d run through countless things, half of that meeting already fully blacked out from his memory. 

He was tired - every meeting with Strauss left him drained. Worried,  about Jack and his state of mind after last night. All he wanted to do was get to his office and check up on his son. 

Walking into the bullpen for the second time that day, he quickly made his way towards his office, only to stop short at the window. The blinds were open, having forgotten to close them last night, so he had a clear and full view of his office.

You were sat on the couch close to the armrest, Jack cuddled against you, cheek squished against your collarbone, face almost buried in your neck. 

Your work tablet sat propped on the coffee table, and your arm wrapped around his small body, keeping him close. His eyes were almost closed, your thumb running soothingly on his back. 

He watched, mesmerized by the scene. He felt himself soften, all of him. His face, the furrow in his brow, and the tight set of his lips. His whole body, his heart, suddenly at peace. 

For months he'd observed the kindness you showed everyone - the families of victims, heartbroken by the injustice of life. Passersby, people you might never see again. Your team, especially, your work family. Jack, and even Aaron himself. 

And as he watched you with his son, the one person left in this world who truly loved him, no matter his rights or wrongs - he couldn't help but feel himself unravel. 

Every little thought he'd had about you, every feeling he might have somehow suppressed in order to protect himself and his child, they all attacked him, in seconds. 

Because the truth was, you earned his trust, his friendship, and somehow along the way, you'd won his heart as well.

Right at that moment, his heart pounded in need, in adoration, in pure, clear love. Love he hadn't allowed himself to feel since Haley. Love, he'd frankly hadn't felt in years, ever since he’d put his signature down on the dotted line. 

He wanted to get home to see this. He wanted to see you put Jack to bed, and kiss his forehead with a whispered ‘good night’.

He wanted to stroke your cheek tenderly, pull you into a kiss that made you melt, and stroke a fire within you like no one else could. 

He wanted to tell you he loved you - in the car, as he drove you to work. In the kitchen during breakfast and dinner. In his office, a few stolen moments as you worked. And under the sheets, while you made love. 

And even through the fear that gripped him in a vice, of rejection, separation, and even trust - he still wanted to love you, as if he was loving someone for the first time again. 

“Everything okay, Aaron?” David asked, passing on the way to his office. 

Aaron barely spared him a glance, nodding his head a little, “Yeah, it's okay.”

He pushed the door to his office open and walked in, greeted by his new favorite sight, and his two favorite people. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[saucingitup]

Kraken broadcaster JT Brown shares why Pride is so important to him and why he’ll be celebrating the LGBTQ+ community all month long

June is an exciting month. There’s Stanley Cup final hockey on the TV, the sun is shining down on Seattle, I hit the links on Father’s Day, and it's Pride month—a month dedicated to celebrating the LGBTQ+ community and commemorating the 1969 Stonewall Uprising in Manhattan. In our house, June is a busy month, but nothing gets celebrated harder than Pride.

Earlier this month, I had the honor of playing in the Seattle Pride Classic at the Kraken Community Iceplex. The invitation to share the ice with LGBTQ+ players from all over is an honor I don’t take lightly. Striking up a conversation on the bench between shifts, I turned to the player next to me. “Nice tape job. Canucks fan?” I said, noting the different colors of tape spiraling down the blade. “No, these colors represent one of the queer flags,” they said.

The bad news is I felt like an idiot. The good news is, I’ll always recognize that flag. Trying means stumbling, losing the puck, shooting wide (pick your analogy), but I’ve never been too proud to admit I caused the turnover and apologize. And we both laughed because sometimes falling on your ass is funny.

From ice to asphalt, the Pride celebration continues as my family and I will be at the 50th annual Seattle Pride Parade on June 30. As someone who is known for their flair for flashy game-day suits, it should not come as a surprise that I love an excuse to get dressed up. Throw in good music and free swag and you’ll understand why I don’t miss a pride parade.

And no one does pride quite like Seattle. It’s no wonder the Kraken pull up to the parade every year with a crew so deep I momentarily worry we’re going to hold up the parade. We’re out there flinging Kraken giveaways like someone is keeping score of how many each employee can hand out—I always aim for the high score.

Of course, being an ally isn't just flinging Kraken patches into a crowd or embarrassingly mistaking flag colors for rival team branding. A lot of it is just showing up.

I show up for my queer wife so she knows I support her even if I still don’t understand what “Brat summer” means. I show up for my kids so they know I love their authentic selves no matter what. I show up for my friends so they know they’re safe with me. I show up because there are LGBTQ+ people out there who are being stood up by the ones they love, by policies, by corporations, by strangers.

People always praise me for being an ally, but having been on the receiving end of bigotry, I know how much easier it is to stand on this side. When I fight for BIPOC equality, I am always lifted by the voices and support of the LGBTQ+ community. Every single time, they have supported me in my fight to help end racism in hockey.

They have been incredible teammates to me and so being one to them was never a choice I made, it was just something I did—and will continue to do with whatever platform I’m given. Everyone deserves the safety and support to live their authentic lives. When we lift up those who need us most, we all reap the benefits of a safer and more inclusive space.

This Pride month, I’d like to encourage others to show up—unabashedly loud and proud—for yourself and for others. Have a happy, safe, and fun Pride!

[5sospenguinqueen]

Needle Little Love - Charles Leclerc x Ferrari! Reader

Summary: When you’re announced as Ferrari’s newest driver, fans love the budding friendship between you and Charles, especially when he adopts your penchant for crochet puns. Netflix expose that there’s more to the story. 

Warnings: Slightly suggestive content. Swearing. Fluff

2023-2024 timeline. Pinterest pics.

Requested: Yes by @rebelwrites. Find the full request here

A/N: There's a blurb halfway down

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

its_ynln just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman and others 

its_ynln chronicles of yarnia 🧶

1,609 comments 

francisca.cgomes okay but i’m gonna need that top in all colours please

→ its_ynln let me get your measurements at zandvoort 

user1 what is charles doing here

→ its_ynln i’m plagued by his brother and we both like to go zoom?

→ arthur_leclerc just for that, i’m not coming to your celebration party in zandvoort. i’ll go party with charles

→ its_ynln don’t want you there anyway 

→ oscarpiastri @/charles_leclerc the girls are fighting again 

→ user2 i love how they’re just assuming she’ll win 

lilymhe i love my pillow! thank you thank you thank you 🌼

→ alex_albon she literally carries it everywhere and i’m not allowed to touch it 

user3 we love how racing is just her side hobby 

jackdoohan day 116 of asking you to make me my own dinosaur 

→ its_ynln i can make a voodoo doll of you if you don’t stop pestering me

→ jackdoohan i’ll be glad when you’re gone

→ user4 gone where! 

→ user5 well she is currently leading the f2 championship, and they won't let her back 

user6 drop the patterns please, babe

user7 i love how half the people here are because of her crochet, not because she drives

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

f1 just posted

liked by ferraridriveracademy, oscarpiastri and others 

f1 welcome to the team @/its_ynln we look forward to seeing you on the grid in the new year 

5,533 comments

its_ynln what can i say, it’s knot just another hobby

→ user8 babe, stick to crochet. stand up comedy is not for you 

ferraridriveracademy take good care of our girl 

→ scuderiaferrari thanks for letting us have her

charles_leclerc welcome to the team 😄

→ user9 why is this the blandest welcome ever 

→ user10 someone feels threatened

→ arthur_leclerc *trying to contain his excitement

francisca.cgomes this is the best news ever. will you teach me to crochet?

→ pierregasly because stealing my girlfriend over summer break wasn’t bad enough?

→ its_ynln are you still salty that she let me touch her boobs

→ user11 i know it was to measure her chest for clothes but still.. 

scuderiaferrari are we going to have to pr train you? @/its_ynln

→ liamlawson30 yes

→ alex_albon yes 

→ jackdoohan yes

→ its_ynln why am i being attacked by twice the amount of people now? 

arthur_leclerc thank god she’s not my problem anymore 

→ its_ynln i’ll always be your problem, little leclerc 

→ oscarpiastri oh fuck, she’s my problem now

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly and others  

charles_leclerc winter break spent somewhere sunny  

2,316 comments

scuderiaferrari come back, we miss you 

user1 um, whose hand is he reaching for in that first pic 

→ user2 idk but we should be saying thank you for dressing him in that shirt 

its_ynln is your skin ferrari red yet 

→ charles_leclerc no, i keep getting slathered in sun cream :(

→ arthur_leclerc factor 50? 

→ user3 i love that she’s bullying him before she’s even been his teammate on track

user4 this shirt looks similar to one yn posted a few weeks ago??

→ user5 and the hat!!

→ user6 omg how cute would it be if charles was asking her to crochet him some clothes 

→ user7 we love a supportive teammate

landonorris rocking the bucket hat, mate. think i can get one in papaya? 

→ charles_leclerc i’ll hook you up

oscarpiastri i miss you, dad

→ its_ynln i’m not babysitting next year. just putting that out there ahead of time 

→ charles_leclerc not even if i ask nicely?

→ its_ynln maybe if you let me win

→ charles_leclerc 🤔🤨

user8 why are we skipping past the sneaky soft launch?

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

2024

“You know, we both have driver’s rooms for this sort of thing,” you breathed, giggling when Charles’ facial hair tickled your neck. 

His mouth sucked gently on the pulse point thrumming beneath his tongue, tracing kisses from your ear down to your collarbone. The stack of worn tyres cushioned your back as he pressed your harder against them when you reached around to pinch his backside. 

“Oi, I’m talking to you.” 

“I’m sorry, mon ange, but you looked so good when you were giving that interview. And you kept laughing-”

“Oh, so it’s not that I’m so irresistible that you couldn't wait until we were safely in the garage. It’s that you were jealous.” You raised an eyebrow at him, unable to fight the smile at his rougish grin. 

“You are irresistible,” he murmured, hands snaking around your waist to pull you flush against him. “Why else would I be making out with you in an alley behind the motorhome?”

“Because you’re a horndog.” 

You and Charles had been dating for the past year, having met after he caught you winding up his younger brother one race weekend. Ferrari had been eyeing you up all year, asking the Monagesque what he thought of you, prompting him to pay closer attention. Prior to you signing your contract, you’d had to disclose your relationship to Fred Vasseur. Whilst the senior members of the team were aware of your more-than-teammates status, the majority of the paddock were in the dark. Both of you wished to keep the relationship under wraps until your rookie year in F1 had passed, reducing speculation that Charles was the only reason you got your seat. Sneaking around the motorhome was a lot safer than making out behind tyre stacks, but Charles didn’t care at this moment in time. 

“You going to be nice and let me win today?” He teased, nibbling at your lower lip. 

“I think you mean, am I going to let you massage my feet after I win? I won here last year.”

“Yes, yes, bow down to you.”

“Well, I do like you on your knees.” 

Grinning, Charles captured your lips with his once more. Tongue swiping against your bottom lip, he groaned against you when your tongue met his. Hands snaking into his hair, you tugged gently on the soft strands, enjoying the whimper you pulled from his lips. He tilted his hips, pressing himself against you. 

“The things you do to me.”

A loud cough - more of a throat clearing - tore the two of you apart. Wide eyed and panting, you both turned in horror to look at the misfortune person who stumbled across you. Fred Vasseur stood at the end of the alleyway, shaking his head at his two drivers. It was bad enough watching them make heart eyes at each other during data reviews but this. Behind him stood a cameraman and a mic guy, mouths agape at their luck. Drive to Survive would be flooded with viewers once they teased this. Breaking News: Ferrari drivers caught locking lips in secret tryst. 

“I’ve got Netflix following me around today.” Fred said bluntly, staring you both down. 

“Oh crap.”

“Yeah.” 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

next day

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by its_ynln, arthur_leclerc and others

charles_leclerc you could say we’re a close knit bunch

4,416 comments

its_ynln i fell for you hook, yarn and stitcher 

user8 not charles adopting her crochet puns 

jackdoohan so he gets a toothless keychain and i still don’t get my dinosaur? 

→ liamlawson30 that’s because he’s sleeping with her

→ jackdoohan if that’s the price...

scuderiaferrari finally. we were getting sick and tired of archiving all the pics we took of you both being cute. now we can post! 

→ arthur_leclerc please don’t. it’s bad enough seeing it in person for the past two years. i don’t want it on my timeline

→ user9 two years! they’ve been together two years! 

alex_albon can’t believe you posted a photo of her in a nice dress and didn't even give her photo creds

→ its_ynln he’s intimidated by my raw talent 

→ oscarpiastri i watched you flip over the handles of your bike the other day 

→ its_ynln raw talent

→ charlesleclerc @/its_ynln when was this? why didn’t you tell me? are you okay? 

georgrussell63 did she beat you?

→ charles_leclerc i let her win

→ landonorris yeah, you’ve been saying that all season, mate

→ its_ynln you got a nice consolation price out of it tho

→ arthur_leclerc ew!

user10 i love that charles has posted this and yn hasn’t mentioned anything about him lol 

→ user11 her entire insta is the two sides of her personality; car and yarn. can't have a man ruining the aesthetic

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

A huge thank you to @rebelwrites for the request. I hope this lives up to expectations

Requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my Masterlist :)

[pynkfairyheart]

Hii I was wondering if you could do an collage au armin arlert oneshot, imagine or Drabble (totally up to you) where armin is a very popular soccer player at the college and since he’s so popular that causes him not have as much time for his gf so she catches an attitude and ignores him and he fixes it ifykyk. I was thinking more of like a dominant or switch armin for this yk?

pairings: soccer!player Armin x black reader

warnings: smut 18+, a lil angsty, orgasm denial, car sex

a/n: i love this request, armin is just so ૮꒰ྀི˶˃ ⌓ ˂˶꒱ྀིა

Ms. Attitude

“I’m sorry, baby. I promise I’ll make it up later. I love you, bye” The monotone beep of the phone soon followed his hurried voice informing you he ended the call before you could even breathe.

“Yep, I love you too” You mumbled. Glossy eyes scanning the hair and makeup you spent hours on.

This was the second time Armin failed to show up for your date.

Soccer season was picking up and with Armin being the captain you understood you'd no longer be able to spend as much time due to practice, but the frequent outings with his team members were becoming infuriating.

Was it that hard for him to plan around your date nights?

With a deep breath, you soaked a cotton pad in makeup remover. Too exhausted to even take pictures before the excess liquid on the pad mixed with your stray tears. It was rare for you to cry over a guy, even rarer to cry over Armin, but the disappointment was turning into frustration that was too overbearing to contain.

What made things worse is that you felt it wasn't fair to Armin you were having these feelings.

You knew what you were entering into when you said yes to being his girlfriend. He told you his goals from the start; become captain, graduate with a 4.0, play professionally, and ultimately make it to the World Cup.

Of course, you knew achieving all he wanted would take time, and you wholeheartedly supported him.

To maintain a healthy relationship you two had a system. Once a week, you would set aside time for a date. It didn't need to be elaborate or fancy; the simple goal was for you to spend time alone. Everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t.

Something Armin didn’t take into account with the new season was the influx of freshmen on the team. This meant lots of bonding time with the team and less time with you.

°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It was a week before you saw Armin. Granted it wasn't on purpose and you just happened to catch a glimpse of him from across the crowded room, but you saw him nonetheless.

The events on how you approached him are a little cloudy, your actions encouraged by the shots you took and your anger. The only true remembrance was Sasha’s attempt to make you stay and the snickers from certain teammates who could predict what was about to happen.

“What the actual fuck, Armin.” You huffed

“Baby? What’s wrong?” His smile disappearing at the pout settled onto your face

You were baffled, was he actually serious?

“What’s wrong is that I haven't seen you in three weeks all because of your little bonding outings. Which this does not seem like bonding” A mixture of frustration and hurt fueling your emotions as you motioned to the party

“I know how this looks, baby but I swear we just got caught up after practice, sit with us I promise to make it up to you- Did you just roll your eyes at me?” Nothing pissed Armin off more than when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Yes! You've said the same thing every week Armin, you're like a fucking broken record and it's actually pissing me off”

“I'm pissing you off?” The indifferent tone of his voice and minuscule smirk on his face should have told you to stop and think but you were just too upset to think.

“Isn't that what I just said” Your iris slightly disappearing as you rolled your eyes once again.

He’d been waiting for it.

Many people knew Armin to be the passionate sweetheart he was. It was rare to see him upset. That emotion reserved for whenever his team got a foul and occasionally whenever you gave him attitude.

Before you could even register what he was doing he grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the party

That little eye roll ended up with you in the backseat of his car, legs on his shoulder as he drilled into you.

“Minniee, pleaseee” You whined, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at the pleasure building in your lower stomach

“You wanted my attention right? So stop fucking complaining and hold it like I said” His hips snapping forward as he buried himself deep inside you with every thrust.

You were certain stars were blurring your vision. He was just stretching you out so well, the girth and the angle he was at leaving no spot along your walls untouched with how deep he was.

Just looking and hearing the whines that slipped passed your lips made him want to fuck orgasm after orgasm out of you.

Just looking at you had him on the brink of a second orgasm.

You just looked so pretty to him. Bouncing breasts no longer confined by the tight shirt you wore, hardened nipples glossy from his previous sucking. Don't even get him started with your teary eyes and glossy lips.

What really got him though was the way your puffy cunt surrounded him. Folds so warm and wet with your slick and his cum that your walls failed to contain.

Armin however didn’t reward bad behavior, especially yours. Maybe he’d let you cum if you whined enough, but who knows. For now, he’d continue to use you for his own pleasure as he pounded into you.

“What's wrong princess? Isn't this what you wanted? Caught an attitude just to get fucked like a slut” He hissed, blonde strands sticking to his forehead as he increased his pace.

“I’m sorry, Minnie, please. I just missed you” You spoke through your broken moans and cries

Leaning down he encaptured your lips, his pace slowing as the guilt seeped into him, oh how he wanted nothing but to go back and spend that time with you.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll make time for us, I mean it this time” His voice coming out in a whisper as he kissed along your neck

“Y-yeah? “ Speech broken by the newfound pleasure as he applied pressure to your clit

“Mhm, as long as you stop with that fucking attitude” Within that second the soft and caring Armin was gone and now replaced with the Armin whose only goal was to make you feel pleasure

You were so close, every rock of his hips hitting your spot so perfectly you were seeing stars and begging to cum but he kept denying you over and over. His responses consisting of “Be my good girl and hold it” or “You want it so badly don’t you?” a condescending pout resting on his pink lips every time

It was only when he grabbed your ankles and pushed your legs up against your chest that he allowed you to cum, pace becoming sloppy as he watched you cream around him, basking in the way every contraction of your cunt added to the milky ring around his base.

The feeling of you clenching around him, the sight of your closed eyes and slightly agape mouth as you came, it was too much for him to handle as spurts of his milky cum forced its way into your stuffed cunt.

“That's my girl” He mumbled. Smirking at the cum spilling from your hole the moment he pulled out

It was only when you felt his hands spreading your legs apart and his tongue plunging into you that you opened your eyes.

“Armin” You shrieked

“Mmm, relax, baby. I've got three weeks' worth of orgasms to get from you.”

[pucksandpower]

Moments of Glory

Oscar Piastri x Brown!Reader

Summary: notoriously calm and collected Oscar meets his match in the outgoing and extroverted daughter of his boss

Note: this is not the maiden win any of us wanted for Oscar but that doesn’t make it any less deserved — McLaren’s ability to jumble strategy should not take away from his amazing drive

The McLaren Technology Centre hums with energy as Oscar steps through the sliding glass doors, his eyes wide with wonder. It’s his first visit since signing with the team, and the gravity of the moment isn’t lost on him. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

As he walks further into the lobby, a burst of laughter catches his attention. Oscar turns to see a group of people gathered near the reception desk, centered around a vivacious young woman with a contagious smile. Your presence seems to light up the entire room.

“And then I told him, ‘Dad, if you don’t make some cuter merch, I’m going to have to support a different team!’” You exclaim, causing another round of laughter from the group.

Oscar finds himself drawn towards the commotion, his feet moving of their own accord. As he approaches, you notice him and your eyes lock. For a moment, the world seems to stand still.

“Well, hello there, stranger!” You call out, breaking the spell. “You must be our new golden boy. I’m Y/N Brown, resident troublemaker and daughter of the big boss.”

Oscar feels his cheeks flush as he stammers, “H-Hi, I’m Oscar. Oscar Piastri.”

You grin, stepping closer. “I know who you are, silly. I’ve been watching your career for years. Welcome to the family!”

Before Oscar can respond, you’ve wrapped him in a warm hug. He stiffens for a moment, unused to such casual physical contact, but then relaxes into the embrace.

As you pull away, you wink at him. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

Oscar’s eyes widen, and he lets out a nervous laugh. “I, uh ... I don’t ...”

You laugh, patting his shoulder. “Relax, I’m just teasing. Come on, let me show you around. I bet I know this place better than any of the official tour guides.”

As you lead Oscar through the facility, he finds himself captivated by your energy and enthusiasm. You point out various areas of interest, peppering your tour with amusing anecdotes and insider information.

“And this,” you say, gesturing dramatically to a seemingly ordinary hallway, “is where Lando once tried to skateboard down the stairs. Spoiler alert: it didn’t end well.”

Oscar chuckles, finding himself more at ease. “I can’t imagine that went over well with management.”

You lean in conspiratorially. “Oh, Dad was furious. But between you and me, I think he was more upset that Lando didn’t invite him to join in.”

As you continue the tour, Oscar finds himself opening up more. “So, how long have you been involved with McLaren?” He asks.

You grin, twirling around to face him as you walk backward. “Oh, pretty much since Dad got hired to run it back in 2016. But I’ve been working here officially for about two years now, in PR and social media.”

Oscar nods, impressed. “That must be exciting, being so close to the action.”

“It has its moments,” you agree. “But enough about me. Tell me, Oscar Piastri, what makes you tick? What drives you to risk life and limb hurtling around tracks at breakneck speeds?”

Oscar pauses, considering his words carefully. “I guess ... it’s the thrill of pushing myself to the limit. The constant challenge of improving, of finding that extra tenth of a second. And the teamwork aspect, knowing that every person plays a crucial role in our success.”

You smile softly, a hint of admiration in your eyes. “That’s beautiful, Oscar. I can see why Dad was so keen on signing you.”

As you reach the simulator room, Oscar’s eyes light up with excitement. You can’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

“Want to give it a go?” You ask, gesturing towards the state-of-the-art equipment.

Oscar nods eagerly. “Can I? I mean, I don’t want to overstep ...”

You wave off his concerns. “Please, you’re part of the team now. Besides, I want to see what you can do.”

As Oscar settles into the simulator, you lean against the doorframe, watching him with interest. He takes a deep breath, centering himself before starting the virtual lap.

You observe silently, impressed by his focus and skill. As he completes the lap, you let out a low whistle. “Not bad, Piastri. Not bad at all.”

Oscar grins, a hint of pride in his expression. “Thanks. It feels good to get a feel for the car, even if it’s just a simulation.”

You step closer, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Want to make it interesting? I bet I can beat your time.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow, a hint of competitiveness creeping into his voice. “Oh really? You’re on.”

For the next hour, you and Oscar take turns in the simulator, trading friendly jabs and encouragement. To Oscar’s surprise, you prove to be a formidable opponent, matching him lap for lap.

As you finish your final run, you jump up with a whoop of victory. “Ha! Beat you by two-tenths!”

Oscar shakes his head, laughing. “I can’t believe it. Where did you learn to drive like that?”

You shrug, a hint of vulnerability showing through your confident exterior. “Growing up around racing, I guess. But I never had the nerve to pursue it professionally. Too much pressure.”

Oscar nods understandingly. “I can’t blame you. It’s not an easy path.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, broken only by the hum of the equipment. Oscar finds himself studying your face, noticing the way your eyes crinkle when you smile and how animated you become when talking about something you love.

You catch him staring and smirk. “See something you like, Piastri?”

Oscar blushes furiously, stammering, “I, uh ... I was just ... you’re really ...”

You laugh, but there’s a softness to it. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

Oscar takes a deep breath, gathering his courage. “Listen, Y/N ... I know we just met, but I was wondering if maybe ... I mean, if you’re not busy ... would you like to ...”

Before he can finish, an alarm on your phone goes off. You check it and grimace. “Shoot, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes. Rain check on whatever you were about to say?”

Oscar nods, trying to hide his disappointment. “Yeah, of course. No problem.”

You start to leave but pause at the doorway. Turning back, you say, “Hey, Oscar? For what it’s worth, I hope you were about to ask me out. Because I’d say yes.”

With a wink and a wave, you’re gone, leaving Oscar standing in the simulator room, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling in his stomach. He takes a deep breath, a smile spreading across his face as he realizes that his journey with McLaren might be even more exciting than he initially thought.

***

The hot Qatar air shimmers around Oscar as he stands before the camera, sweat glistening on his brow. His race suit clings to his body, still damp from the grueling sprint race he’s just won. The interviewer leans in with her microphone.

“Oscar, what an incredible performance today! How does it feel to secure your first sprint victory in Formula 1?”

Oscar’s eyes shine with a mix of exhaustion and elation. “It’s ... it’s honestly surreal,” he says, his voice slightly breathless. “The team did an amazing job with the car, and everything just clicked out there. I can’t quite believe it yet.”

The interviewer nods encouragingly. “You showed remarkable pace throughout the race. Was there any point where you felt particularly challenged?”

Oscar opens his mouth to respond, but before he can say a word, a blur of motion catches his peripheral vision. Suddenly, you crash into him at full speed, nearly knocking both of you off balance.

“You did it! You actually did it!” You squeal, throwing your arms around Oscar’s neck and peppering his sweaty face with kisses.

Oscar’s eyes widen in shock, his cheeks flushing a deep red that has nothing to do with the desert heat. “Y/N! What are you-”

But you’re not listening. You’re too busy showering him with affection, right there in front of the rolling cameras and the stunned interviewer. “I’m so proud of you, you beautiful, talented man!” You exclaim between kisses.

The interviewer clears her throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “I ... um, it seems we have an unexpected guest. Miss, could you perhaps-”

You turn to face the camera, your arm still draped around Oscar’s shoulders. “Oh, don’t mind me! I’m just here to celebrate with the star of the show.” You plant another kiss on Oscar’s cheek for emphasis.

Oscar, for his part, looks like he’s torn between embarrassment and delight. He awkwardly pats your back, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism. “I’m sorry about this,” he says to the interviewer. “This is Y/N, she’s ... well, she’s ...”

“I’m his girlfriend,” you announce proudly, beaming at the camera. “And the daughter of the CEO, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that this guy” — you ruffle Oscar’s hair — “just drove the race of his life!”

The interviewer, recovering from her initial shock, decides to roll with the unexpected turn of events. “Well, Y/N, since you’re here, what did you think of Oscar’s performance today?”

You launch into an enthusiastic analysis, gesticulating wildly. “It was absolutely brilliant! The way he managed those tires in the closing laps, fending off Verstappen ... I was on the edge of my seat the whole time!”

Oscar watches you with a mixture of amusement and affection. When you pause for breath, he gently interjects, “I think you might be a bit biased, love.”

You turn to him, eyes sparkling. “Biased? Me? Never! I’ll have you know I’m a highly objective observer of the sport.”

The interviewer, sensing an opportunity for a more personal angle, asks, “Oscar, how does it feel to have such passionate support from your girlfriend?”

Oscar’s expression softens as he looks at you. “It’s ... it’s incredible, honestly. Y/N’s been my biggest cheerleader since day one. Even on the tough days, she always believes in me.”

You lean your head on his shoulder, momentarily subdued by the sincerity in his voice. “That’s because I know how amazing you are, even when you don’t see it yourself.”

The interviewer smiles, clearly charmed by the display. “It’s wonderful to see such support. Y/N, did you have any doubts during the race?”

You straighten up, your energy returning full force. “Doubts? About Oscar? Never! Although,” you add with a mischievous grin, “I did consider commandeering a golf cart and driving onto the track myself when Verstappen started closing that gap in the final laps.”

Oscar chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m glad you restrained yourself. I don’t think that would’ve gone over well with the stewards.”

“Oh please,” you scoff playfully. “I would’ve told them I was delivering a vital message about tire strategy. They would’ve believed me.”

The interviewer laughs along with you. “I have to say, this is one of the most entertaining post-race interviews I’ve ever conducted. Oscar, how do you keep up with such a vibrant personality?”

Oscar grins, his earlier embarrassment fading. “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure that out. Y/N keeps me on my toes, that’s for sure. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You beam at him, then stage-whisper to the interviewer, “He loves it, really. I add much-needed excitement to his life.”

“As if driving a Formula 1 car at over 300 kilometers per hour isn’t exciting enough,” Oscar retorts good-naturedly.

You wave a dismissive hand. “Details, details. Now, are we done here? Because I have plans for celebrating this victory, and they involve a lot less talking and a lot more-”

Oscar quickly cuts you off, his cheeks reddening again. “And on that note, I think we should wrap this up. Thank you for the interview,” he says to the journalist, who’s trying hard to stifle her laughter.

As Oscar begins to lead you away, the interviewer calls out one last question. “Oscar, any final words for your fans watching at home?”

Oscar pauses, considering for a moment. “Just ... thank you for all the support. It means the world to me. And to the team, of course. We couldn’t do this without you all.”

You can’t resist adding your own message. “And remember, kids: if you work hard and believe in yourself, one day you too could have an incredibly attractive partner tackling you with kisses on live television!”

With that, you pull Oscar away from the cameras, both of you laughing as you disappear into the paddock.

Once you’re out of sight of the media, Oscar turns to you, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. “I can’t believe you did that,” he says, shaking his head.

You grin unrepentantly. “Oh come on, it was fun! And admit it, you loved it.”

Oscar tries to maintain a stern face, but his lips twitch upwards. “It was certainly ... unexpected.”

“Unexpected is my middle name,” you declare proudly.

“I thought your middle name was Trouble,” Oscar quips.

You gasp in mock offense. “Oscar Piastri, are you sassing me? I’ll have you know that Trouble is my first name. Y/N is just a cover.”

Oscar laughs, pulling you close despite the sweat still clinging to his race suit. “Well, Trouble, what do you say we get out of here and start that celebration you were talking about?”

Your eyes light up. “Now you’re talking! But first ...” You lean in, your voice dropping to a whisper. “I believe I was interrupted earlier when I was showering the race winner with well-deserved affection.”

Oscar’s breath catches as you close the distance between you, your lips meeting in a kiss that’s far more heated than the ones shared on camera. When you finally pull apart, you’re both a little breathless.

“Wow,” Oscar murmurs. “If that’s how you react to a sprint win, I can’t wait to see what happens when I win a Grand Prix.”

You wink at him. “Keep driving like that, and you’ll find out soon enough. Now come on, hero. Let’s go find somewhere more private before my dad shows up and ruins all our fun.”

As if on cue, Zak’s voice echoes down the paddock. “Oscar! There you are! Hell of a drive out there, kid!”

You groan dramatically. “Speak of the devil. Quick, hide me in your helmet!”

Oscar chuckles, keeping an arm around your waist as Zak approaches. “I don’t think you’d fit, babe. Besides, I’m pretty sure he already knows you’re here. The whole world probably knows after that interview.”

You shrug, unabashed. “What can I say? When I’m proud of my man, I want everyone to know it.”

Zak reaches you, clapping Oscar on the shoulder. “That was some fantastic racing out there, Oscar. You should be proud.”

Oscar nods, a shy smile on his face. “Thank you. The car felt great, and the team’s strategy was spot on.”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Always so modest. Dad, tell him how amazing he was!”

Zak laughs. “I think you’ve done enough of that for all of us, sweetheart. I saw that interview, by the way. Quite a show you two put on.”

You bat your eyelashes innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was merely congratulating our star driver on his well-deserved victory.”

“Uh-huh,” Zak says, clearly not buying it. “Well, try to keep the congratulations a bit more PG in the future, alright? We do have sponsors to think about.”

Oscar looks mortified, but you just grin. “No promises. But I’ll try to restrain myself to just one tackle per race weekend.”

Zak shakes his head, a mixture of exasperation and fondness on his face. “What am I going to do with you two? Oscar, I hope you know what you’ve signed up for with this one.”

Oscar glances at you, his expression softening. “I think I have a pretty good idea. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

You feel your heart swell at his words. “Aww, babe. That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said. Well, second sweetest. The sweetest was when you told me my driving in the simulator was ‘not bad.’”

Oscar groans. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Nope!” you say cheerfully. “I plan to remind you of it at least once a week for the rest of our lives.”

Zak watches your banter with amusement. “Alright, you two. Oscar, the team wants to debrief before you head out. Y/N, try not to cause any international incidents while I’m gone, okay?”

You salute dramatically. “Yes, sir, Team Principal, sir! I shall endeavor to be on my very best behavior.”

As Zak walks away, shaking his head and muttering something that sounds suspiciously like “God help us all,” you turn back to Oscar.

“So, hotshot,” you say, running a finger down his chest. “How long do you think this debrief will take? Because I have some very important plans that involve you, me, and a bottle of champagne I may or may not have ‘borrowed’ from the hospitality area.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Borrowed, huh? You know, as a representative of the team, I should probably discourage such behavior.”

You lean in close, your lips barely brushing his ear. “And as my boyfriend, what do you think?”

Oscar’s arms tighten around you. “I think,” he murmurs, “that I’m the luckiest guy in the world. And that I’ll try to make this the quickest debrief in F1 history.”

You pull back with a triumphant grin. “That’s what I like to hear. Now go, be brilliant, and hurry back to me. I’ll be waiting.”

As Oscar jogs off towards the team garage, you watch him go with a soft smile. Your eyes linger on the PIASTRI emblazoned across his back, and you feel a surge of pride and affection.

“That’s my guy,” you murmur to yourself. “My brilliant, amazing, race-winning guy.”

And as you head off to prepare for your celebration, you can’t help but think that while Oscar might have won the sprint race today, you’re the one who truly hit the jackpot.

***

The Hungaroring erupts in cheers as Oscar crosses the finish line, securing his maiden Grand Prix victory. The McLaren garage explodes with jubilation, team members hugging each other and pumping their fists in the air.

As Oscar completes his cool-down lap, his voice crackles over the team radio, breathless with excitement. “We did it! We actually did it! Thank you, thank you to everyone. I can’t believe it!”

His race engineer responds, emotion evident in his voice. “Fantastic job, Oscar. You drove brilliantly. Enjoy this moment, mate. You’ve earned it.”

Meanwhile, in the paddock, you’re practically vibrating with excitement. You’ve been pacing back and forth, unable to contain your energy as you watched the final laps unfold on the screens. As soon as Oscar crosses the line, you sprint towards parc fermé, determined to be there when he gets out of the car.

You weave through the crowd, your McLaren bomber jacket with Oscar’s number emblazoned across the back drawing curious glances. As you reach the barriers, you see Oscar’s car pull up, the Australian already unclipping his helmet.

“Oscar!” You shout, waving frantically. “Over here!”

Oscar’s eyes scan the crowd, lighting up when he spots you. He clambers out of the car, his legs a bit shaky from the adrenaline and physical exertion. As he makes his way towards you, his gaze locks onto the jacket you’re wearing, and his steps falter.

You notice his reaction and grin mischievously, doing a little twirl to show off the jacket. “Like what you see, champ?”

Oscar’s eyes are wide, his mouth slightly agape. “That’s ... wow. Is that my number?”

You nod, beaming. “Sure is. Thought I’d support my favorite driver in style. Although,” you add with a wink, “I have to say, it will look much better on the ground next to your bed.”

Oscar’s face flushes red, and he glances around nervously. “Y/N! We’re in public!”

You laugh, reaching out to ruffle his sweat-damp hair. “Oh, relax. Everyone’s too busy celebrating your win to pay attention to us. Speaking of which ...” You grab the front of his race suit and pull him close, planting a passionate kiss on his lips.

When you finally break apart, Oscar looks dazed but happy. “I could get used to that kind of celebration,” he murmurs.

“Well, keep winning races like that, and you’ll have plenty more where that came from,” you tease. “Now go, do your podium thing. I’ll be waiting to continue this ... discussion ... later.”

As Oscar heads off for the podium ceremony, you turn to make your way back to the paddock. That’s when you spot Lando chatting with some engineers. Your eyes narrow as you remember how a McLaren strategy mistake had allowed Lando to undercut Oscar, nearly costing him the win. Even though it wasn’t really Lando’s fault, you can’t help feeling annoyed at him.

You’re about to march over and give Lando a piece of your mind when you spot something that makes you pause — Fernando Alonso’s unattended scooter, parked just a few feet away. A mischievous grin spreads across your face as an idea forms.

Glancing around to make sure no one’s watching, you casually stroll over to the scooter and hop on. You rev the engine, drawing Lando’s attention.

“Hey, Y/N!” Lando calls out, waving. “Congrats on Oscar’s win! Some race, huh?”

You smile sweetly, maneuvering the scooter towards him. “Oh, it sure was, Lando. Especially that bit where you refused to give the lead back to Oscar until the last minute. That was ... interesting.”

Lando’s smile falters slightly. “Come on. You know it wasn’t my fault. The team made the strategy call.”

“Oh, I know,” you say, inching the scooter closer. “I just thought I’d give you a little reminder about team spirit and timeliness.”

Before Lando can react, you accelerate the scooter, aiming straight for his foot. There’s a yelp of pain as the wheel rolls over Lando’s toes, followed by a string of colorful expletives.

“Oops!” You exclaim with faux innocence. “So sorry, Lando. These things are just so hard to control, you know?”

Lando hops on one foot, glaring at you. “What the hell? That bloody hurt!”

You shrug, still perched on the scooter. “Funny, that’s probably how Oscar felt when you wouldn’t let him by. Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

As Lando opens his mouth to retort, a stern voice cuts through the air. “Y/N Brown! What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

You wince, recognizing your father’s voice. Zak strides towards you, his expression a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

“Hi, Dad,” you say sheepishly. “I was just ... congratulating Lando on his race?”

Zak pinches the bridge of his nose. “By running over his foot with Alonso’s scooter? Jesus, Y/N. I can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

You hop off the scooter, trying your best to look contrite. “In my defense, it was a very gentle running over. Barely a love tap, really.”

Lando snorts, still rubbing his foot. “Love tap my arse. I think you broke my toe!”

Zak sighs heavily. “Lando, go get that checked out by the medics. Y/N, you’re coming with me. We need to have a serious talk about appropriate behavior in the paddock.”

As your father leads you away, you can’t help but call back over your shoulder, “Hey Lando! Next time, maybe think about giving the position back sooner, yeah?”

Zak groans. “Y/N, please. You know Lando was put in a tough spot. You’re not helping your case here.”

You follow your father to a quiet corner of the McLaren garage, trying to suppress your grin. Despite the impending lecture, you can’t bring yourself to regret your actions. Nobody messes with your Oscar and gets away with it.

Zak turns to face you, his expression serious. “Y/N, I know you’re excited about Oscar’s win, and believe me, I am too. But you can’t go around assaulting our drivers, even if it’s just with a scooter.”

You nod, attempting to look suitably chastised. “I know. I got carried away. It won’t happen again.”

Zak raises an eyebrow. “Why do I have a hard time believing that?”

Before you can respond, there’s a commotion at the garage entrance. Oscar bursts in, his face flushed with excitement.

“Y/N!” He calls out, spotting you. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

You turn to him, your face lighting up. “Oscar! Congrats, babe! I know I already said it, but you were amazing out there!”

Oscar sweeps you up in a hug, spinning you around. As he sets you down, his eyes once again lock onto your jacket. “God, you look incredible in that,” he murmurs, his voice low.

You smirk, running a hand down his chest. “Oh yeah? Maybe I should wear it more often then.”

Zak clears his throat loudly, reminding you both of his presence. “While I’m thrilled about the win, could you two maybe tone down the PDA a notch? We are still in a professional environment.”

Oscar steps back, looking sheepish. “Sorry. I got a bit carried away.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Oh, come on, Dad. Let the man celebrate! It’s his first win, after all.”

Zak sighs, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face. “Fine, fine. But try to keep it family-friendly, alright? And Y/N, we’re not done talking about the scooter incident.”

Oscar looks between you and your father, confusion evident on his face. “Scooter incident?”

You wave a dismissive hand. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little misunderstanding with Lando. Nothing to worry about.”

Oscar’s brow furrows. “What kind of misunderstanding involves a scooter?”

Before you can answer, Lando limps into the garage, his foot wrapped in a bandage. “The kind where your girlfriend tries to maim me, apparently,” he grumbles.

Oscar’s eyes widen. “Y/N, you didn’t ...”

You shrug, trying to look innocent. “It was an accident! Besides, he had it coming after that stunt he pulled during the race.”

Oscar runs a hand through his hair, looking exasperated but also slightly amused. “Y/N, you can’t just go around running people over because you’re unhappy with their racing.”

“Watch me,” you mutter under your breath.

Zak throws his hands up in defeat. “I give up. Oscar, congratulations again on the win. Y/N, try not to cause any more chaos for at least the next hour, okay? I need to go do damage control with the press.”

As your father walks away, Oscar turns to you, his expression a mix of fondness and exasperation. “What am I going to do with you?”

You grin, stepping closer to him. “I have a few ideas. Most of them involve you, me, and licking champagne off each other’s skin.”

Oscar’s breath hitches, his eyes darkening. “Y/N,” he warns, but there’s no real heat in his voice.

You lean in, your lips brushing his ear. “What do you say we get out of here, champ? I think it’s time for your real celebration.”

Oscar doesn’t need to be told twice. He grabs your hand, leading you towards the exit. As you pass Lando, you call out, “No hard feelings, right, Lando? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before playing dirty on track.”

Lando rolls his eyes but can’t help cracking a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Just keep her on a leash, will you, Oscar?”

Oscar chuckles. “I don’t think anyone could keep Y/N on a leash if they tried.”

As you leave the garage, the sounds of celebration still echoing through the paddock, you can’t help but feel on top of the world. Oscar’s first win, your successful (if slightly unorthodox) defense of his honor, and the promise of a private celebration to come — it’s been a perfect day.

You squeeze Oscar’s hand, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “So, hero, ready to show me just how much you like this jacket?”

Oscar grins, pulling you closer. “More than ready. But maybe we should wait until we’re somewhere more private. I don’t fancy giving the entire paddock a show.”

You laugh, the sound bright and carefree. “Spoilsport. But fine, I suppose I can be patient. For now.”

As you walk hand in hand towards the team motorhome, you can’t help but think that while Oscar may have won the race today, you’re both winners in the game of love. And that’s the best victory of all.

[unkreativstermensch]

"Still super jealous as hell by the way.“

"Okay, now, can you…get outta my face?“ Steve annoyedly swats a hand at Eddie’s chest and ducks out of his space.

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "Why are you-" He purses his lips, thinks. "You don’t…you still don’t like me very much, do you?"

At that Steve stops walking, huffs out an annoyed breath and presses his eyes closed. He turns to Eddie, looks at him with an expression Eddie can’t read and says, "No, Eddie. No, I don’t."

Eddie just watches him for a second, not sure what to do, studies his face, the furrow between his brows, the clear discomfort in his expression.

He scoffs. Getting a little angry. "Jesus, man,“ he says. "You just can’t get over it, huh? And here I was rambling on about how you were actually a good dude after all, but…no, turns out Steve Harrington is still just as much stuck in his stupid high school mindset as I would have thought.“

Steve just looks more annoyed now, a slight shift in his eyebrow and…he looks…frustrated? A little? How does that make sense?

"You,“ Steve says, voice low, but not because of the monsters, Eddie knows that much, "are unbelievable.“

Eddie blinks. "What?“

"Eddie, you’re the one who can’t get over it,“ Steve accuses him. "You always talk about that non-conformist shit and how people should just stop with the categories and drawers and labels but, dude, you’ve never judged people that way yourself! I have been saved in your brain as this dumb idiot jock ever since you’ve known me and…“ Steve huffs out an unbelieving breath. "And Eddie, I don’t know what to tell you…but you’ve never been nice to me. Ever. And when Lucas made the basketball team, which is amazing, by the way, you weren’t proud of him or supported him for that incredible achievement like you should have if he’s really one of your 'little sheep‘.“ He draws quotation marks in the air. "You punished him for it. You said you can’t make Hellfire? Fuck you. I’m just gonna have the most important part of the campaign without you, because you know what, you don’t deserve us anymore now that you’ve joined the dark side. Now that you’ve taken up a…a jock game. Because god forbid, somebody could actually ever enjoy playing sports.“

Eddie can’t follow. His mind’s lagging behind, still stuck on Steve apparently knowing DnD terms and saying he was never nice to him and-

Steve takes another step back.

"Eddie, for as long as I can remember you hated me. And yeah, sure, I was stupid and I did some stupid things, but…“ he shrugs one sided. "But I don’t think I deserve to be treated that way. I think I at least deserved a chance. And you never gave me one.“

Eddie blinks. "What do you mean I never gave you a chance, I-"

"Biology, sophomore year,“ Steve interrupts him. "We were assigned lab partners. I tried to really…put all of it aside, tried to get to know you, because actually, Eddie, you know what? I was sort of obsessed with you. Because you were so…loud and so unashamedly yourself, I admired you so much. You didn’t care about anything and you stood up for yourself and that’s something I’ve never been able to do, my whole life. I…“ Steve looks down, sighs a little. "I let people push me around because it’s the only way I feel like I can be of use. But you…you made me believe that maybe actually I…could do it, you know? Like, tell Tommy H. off or something…“ He looks so hurt. Eddie kind of wants to die. "But you…you acted like it was the worst thing ever, getting partnered with me. You didn’t even look at me. You…never gave me a chance, Eddie. So…sorry if one 'you’re actually a good dude, Harrington' doesn’t make me forget all of that, make up for it. Because I’m not so sure I believe you.“

Oh.

Oh no.

Eddie fucked up.

[misspygmypie]

We're A Team, On And Off The Track

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Requested: Yes Summary: Your period cramps are unbearable after a race and Lando is there to make you feel better. Words: 2.3k

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

With every corner, you felt the weight of the pain more intensely, and it was getting harder to focus on the track. Your vision was blurring slightly, and you could hear Tom’s voice through the headset, but it seemed like it was coming from far away.

“Y/n, are you ok?”

“Yeah I’m alright,” you stated, taking a sharp breath.

Tom’s voice crackled again, urgent but supportive. “Y/n, just a bit more, you’re almost there. You’re doing great.”

You nodded to yourself, even though your race engineer couldn’t see it. “I’ve got this,” you muttered through gritted teeth. The pain was still relentless and even getting worse, but you were determined to not give up.

You maneuvered through the last few corners with every ounce of strength you had left. Your hands were gripping the wheel so tightly your knuckles were white, and you fought against the nausea threatening to overtake you.

The finish line was just ahead. You could almost taste the relief. You pushed through the final stretch, the sound of the engine roaring in your ears, a welcome distraction from the pain. As you crossed the line a wave of exhaustion washed over you.

Tom’s voice was the first thing you heard clearly after you crossed the line. “P6! Great job, Y/n! We’re all so proud of you.”

You managed a small, pained smile. “Thanks, Tom,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You were already thinking about the bed and the pain relievers you so desperately needed.

As you pulled into the pit lane, Tom and your team were there, ready to help you out of the car. You could feel Tom’s worried look on you. “It’s okay,” you replied, your voice hoarse. “Just… I need to lie down.”

Lando, your boyfriend and fellow driver of the McLaren team, was already waiting for you in the garage, having finished P4 and smiled at you. But just as you had put your helmet down and were walking over to him it happened. A sharp pain hit your lower abdomen and you could’ve sworn somebody stabbed you with a knife. The lights and colors in front of your eyes swirled together and slowly faded away as darkness took over. The pain was so strong you felt like you were about to pass out and you quickly wobbled over to the nearest wall to lean on.

“Y/n, oh my god,” you heard Lando’s panicked voice. “Baby, are you ok? Tom, get Dr. Hughes.”

Two soft hands grabbed your face and slowly, as your nausea subsided a bit, you could make out the worried face of your boyfriend.

You tried to focus on Lando’s face, his concern evident in every feature. The pain was still intense, but his presence brought a small bit of comfort amidst the stabbing feeling in your lower abdomen. As he gently helped you to a nearby chair, you took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself.

“I’m… I’m okay,” you managed to say, though the words came out strained. “Just… cramps. They’re really bad today.”

Lando’s expression softened, though the worry didn’t leave his eyes. He crouched down in front of you, his hands still holding yours. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

You looked away, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to be seen as weak or—”

“Y/n,” he interrupted gently but firmly. “You’re not weak. You’re incredible, and I hate seeing you like this. You should have told someone.”

Before you could respond, Dr. Hughes - the McLaren team doctor - appeared, his face concerned but relieved when he saw you sitting down. “Lando, can you give us a minute?” he asked softly, and Lando nodded, though he clearly wasn’t happy to leave your side.

Dr. Hughes crouched beside you, his professional demeanor slipping through with a compassionate touch. “How long have you been in this much pain?” he asked as he started checking your vitals.

“Since the start of the race,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t want to drop out. I thought I could manage it.”

The doctor nodded, understanding. “Here's some medication and I will get some more for you to take with you. You need to rest.”

As he left to fetch the necessary supplies, Lando stayed close, his hand still holding yours. “I hope nobody pressured you into thinking you had to race today.”

“No, Lando, nobody even knew. I made the choice to race. I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“Ok,” he said, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “But next time, please let me or someone else help. We don’t want you to suffer like this alone.”

Lando stayed by your side, holding your hand and keeping quiet, letting you focus on getting through the pain. His presence was soothing, even if words weren’t necessary at the moment. You leaned back in the chair, feeling the medication start to take effect and the pain begin to recede, albeit slowly.

As the initial discomfort faded, you looked at Lando, seeing the love and concern in his eyes. “Thank you,” you said softly. “For being here. For understanding.”

He squeezed your hand gently. “Always,” he said. “You’re my priority, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re okay.”

Dr. Hughes soon returned with the extra pain relievers and guided both of you through the paddock. “Go to the hotel and rest for a while. We’ll take care of the rest.”

“Thank you,” Lando replied to the man with a sincere smile and just a few moments later you were on your way to the hotel.

Once you arrived Lando carefully helped you out of the car, his arm around your waist providing support as you moved toward the hotel’s back entrance. The side street was quiet, a stark contrast to the front where fans and media awaited. The sense of privacy and calm was exactly what you needed right now.

As you entered the hotel, Lando guided you to the elevator, his hand gently resting on your lower back. The ride up to your floor was quick, and he walked with you to the door of your shared room, fumbling with the keycard to get inside. Finally, he managed to get it open and ushered you in.

The quietness and peace of the room quickly embraced you. You immediately felt more comfortable not having to pretend like your own body wasn’t trying to rip you apart from the inside while being watched from hundreds of eyes at the same time. With a somewhat relaxing sigh you stripped off your shirt and jeans and threw them into the next corner.

“Arms up, baby,” Lando demanded and just a second after you had done so you could feel the soft fabric of one of his sweaters engulf you. Once your head popped out of the hole you were greeted by the soft smile of your boyfriend, who helped take the hood off your head and placed a gentle kiss on our nose. 

Once you were changed, Lando helped you settle onto the bed, propping up some pillows to make you as comfortable as possible. He then went to fetch a glass of water and the medication the doctor had given you earlier.

“Here,” he said, handing you the glass and the pills. “Take these, they should help.”

You took the medication and swallowed it with a sip of water, then sank back into the pillows with a sigh of relief. Lando sat beside you on the bed, his hand still holding yours, his touch soothing.

“Do you want anything else? Maybe some warm tea?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.

“Tea would be wonderful,” you replied, feeling the medication beginning to ease the pain but knowing you could use a bit more comfort.

“Alright, I will be right back,” he proclaimed and hurried out of the room. When Lando returned, he was carrying a small bag from the hotel’s room service, a look of determination on his face. He set it down on the bedside table and opened it, revealing a couple of chocolate bars - comfort foods that he knew you loved - and a kettle he seemed to have gotten from the reception, which he quickly filled with water and turned on before preparing a steaming cup of herbal tea.

With the cup in hand he turned around to look at you. He saw the pained expression on your face and immediately sat down beside you, gently placing the tea and chocolate on the nightstand before helping you to adjust your position so you could get more comfortable. 

“Here,” he said softly, handing you the tea. “This should help with the nausea. And I thought you might like some chocolate too.”

You took the tea with a grateful smile, savoring the warmth of the cup against your hands. Lando carefully helped you sip it, making sure you weren’t burning yourself. The smell was soothing, and you could already feel the calming effect as you drank it slowly.

Once you had finished a few sips, he took the empty cup from you and set it aside before walking over to his suitcase and pulling something out of it.

“Is that my hot water bottle?!” You gasped, looking at the fluffy pig shaped fabric in his hands. 

Lando proudly presented it to you. “I packed it just in case. I just wanted to be prepared.”

You weren’t sure if it was the state you were in, the hormones or the simple fact that Lando proved once again how perfect of a boyfriend he was, but you could feel yourself tear up and soon the first wet streaks decorated your cheeks.

“Oh, baby, don’t cry” Lando begged, once again gently grabbing your face in his hands, his thumbs softly wiping away the tears. Then, he went to fill up the hot water bottle with the remaining water from the kettle, making sure it was at a comfortable temperature before placing it on your lower abdomen. The warmth began to spread, and you felt a significant reduction in the cramping pain.

He sat back down, brushing a stray hair from your face. “You did amazing out there today. I’m so proud of you, but I wish you didn’t have to push through so much pain.”

You looked at him, touched by his support. “I didn’t want to let anyone down. Especially not you or the team.”

Lando shook his head gently. “You didn’t let anyone down. You’re a fighter, but it’s okay to let others help you too. We’re a team, on and off the track.”

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion of the day beginning to take hold, while Lando pulled back the blankets and slid in beside you, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your hair.

“Much better,” you admitted with one last sniffle, snuggling closer to him. “Thank you for everything.”

Lando rested his chin on top of your head, his fingers gently stroking your back. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want you to feel better. And to know that you don’t have to go through this alone.”

The combined warmth of the heating pad, Lando’s embrace, and the tea made the pain and discomfort feel more manageable. You let out a contented sigh, feeling the support and love radiating from him.

“Can we stay like this for a bit?” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

“Of course,” he said, his tone filled with affection. “We can stay like this for as long as you want.”

He continued to hold you, and the steady rhythm of his breathing, along with his gentle caresses, helped to lull you into a more restful state. Despite the lingering discomfort, you felt a deep sense of relief and safety in Lando’s arms. As you drifted off to sleep, the pain was still there but more bearable.

You awoke several hours later, something wet and clammy sticking to your face - Lando's shirt. 

“Are you feeling better, baby?” Lando asked immediately after noticing you were awake.

You nodded softly. “I’m definitely warm enough as well…”

“Oh, thank god,” Lando exclaimed, “I was sweating my balls off with this thing pressed against my belly!” You chuckled while he tossed the hot water bottle as far away from you two as possible.

Lando’s playful grumbling about the hot water bottle brought a genuine smile to your face, the kind that felt long overdue after such a rough day. 

“I’m sorry about the inconvenience,” you said with a soft laugh, “but I really appreciate you doing all this for me.”

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his face still flushed from the heat. “No need to apologize. I’d do it all over again if it means making you feel better.”

Lando’s fingers continued their circles on your back, making it easy to drift back into relaxation. “How’s the pain?” he asked, his voice tender and concerned.

“Much better,” you replied, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. “The tea and the hot water bottle really helped.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Lando said with a relieved sigh. “I was worried that I might’ve overdone it with the hot water bottle, but it looks like it worked.”

“You were perfect,” you assured him, your hand finding his and squeezing it gently. “Really, I couldn’t have asked for a better person to be with me through this.”

He grinned and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Well, you’ve got the best boyfriend on call, so you’d better get used to it.”

As you snuggled closer to him, the exhaustion of the day began to fade away. It was moments like these that reaffirmed how lucky you felt to have him in your life.

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ The Last Great American Dynasty

♥ masterlist | request rules | based on this request

♥ pairing: logan sargeant x fem!driver!reader

♥ synopsis: logan gets replaced at williams mid season by you, his girlfriend. luckily his racing career and f1 story is not over yet.

♥ smau - fc: women on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing, hate comments, and james vowels slander !!!

♥ a/n: logan gets the happy ending he deserves (by taking james' job lol).

-August 26, 2024-

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, susie_wolff, and 3,592,602 more

williamsracing Y/n L/n to race for the remainder of the 2024 season

view comments

logansargeant proud of you ❤️

yourusername thank you logie. I can't wait to see where racing takes us both. I love you ❤️

user6 the fact that he's still so supportive of her... I love them your honor 🥺

alex_albon You gave it your all brother and it’s been a pleasure being teammates with you. I know whatever you do next, you’ll be awesome. I can't wait to race along side you as well @/yourusername. Lets make history.

user9 HOW ARE WE FEELING LOLEX NATION 😭

user1 the tears that are coming out of my eyes right now

user2 😧

user7 I felt my heart break in real time

user4 ... james I am in your fucking walls

user5 I am so proud of y/n but damn.

user21 can someone explain please??

user7 logan, the driver y/n is replacing is her boyfriend

user9 I cried.

user60 imagine taking your own BOYFRIENDS job. he deserves so much better

user51 poor logan 💔

user10 lets not let the sad news about logan leaving impact our support for y/n. shes the first woman to race in f1 in a VERY long time and that's an incredible achievement

user3 say it louder for the people in the back

user12 this !!!

user4 James vowels is the common enemy

user8 @/user4 TRUE

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Logan's Insta Story-

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by logansargeant, susie_wolff, lilymhe, and 609,427 more

yourusername oh look i’m winning

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user1 yes you are queen

user2 you don’t have to brag 😔

user5 POINTS

landonorris @/logansargeant maybe you should get her a dog

pierregasly 💀

user1 landooo 😭

user8 how is she so gorgeous

user9 oh to be y/n

user6 prove the haters wrong !!!

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by yourusername, patriciooward, Indycar, and 984,582 more

logansargeant back in blue

tagged; @/andrettiindy

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yourusername 🩵

logansargeant 🩵

patriciooward good to see you again

user7 SHUT THE FUCK UP NOT ANDRETTI SIGNING HIM FOR 2025

user9 HAHAHA

user3 the personal beef andretti has with f1 is inspiring 😩

user8 WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETER 🦅🇺🇸

user5 lets go logan

user1 oh we are SO back.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, andrettiindy, and 2,459,302 more

logansargeant today I got the privilege of marrying the most talented, beautiful, and kind woman I have ever met. you have stood by me since the beginning of my career and I am honored that you chose me to support you throughout the future of yours. I love you so much

comments are limited

f1 our favorite paddock couple

indycar double it and give it to the next motorsport

alex_albon congratulations to the both of you!

lilyzneimer thank you for making me your maid of honor 🥹 you looked absolutely stunning today

yourusername lilyyyy 😭🫶

williamsracing so who caught the boquet? 👀

yourusername lily mhe 🤭

lilymhe we might be needing those brides maid dresses again soon

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-December 2035-

It has just been announced that former F1 driver Logan Sargeant and his wife, Y/n L/n will be the new team principal and CEO of Williams Racing.

The F1 American Dynasty

If you're unfamiliar with the story of Sargeant you may not understand the significance of this change for Williams. He had a spot on the grid during 2023-2024 before being dropped mid-season and replaced by his now wife Y/n L/n. He then went on to drive for Andretti, an American Indycar team and Y/n won four championships during her time in F1. The two of them have continued to carry on the legacy of American drivers in Formula 1, encouraged by the Andretti family.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by andrettiindy, susie_wolff, oscarpiastri, and 1,362,503 more

yourusername CEO life

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lilymhe GORGEOUS

yourusername no YOU <33

williamsracing glad to have you back @/logansargeant

user2 even admin is a logan fan

user4 oh FUUUCK YEA

user7 stop the middle picture-

user9 I want what they have 😭

user1 their ULTIMATE revenge

user12 fuck james vowels

user3 all my homies hate james vowels

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

end notes: thank you so much for reading! even though logan isn't on the grid I'll still have a few fics coming out for him soon <3

[anundyingfidelity]

DO YOU HATE ME THAT MUCH? — Billy Butcher

Summary: Butcher gives orders for you to stay back from the fight. You hardly comply and prove differently; he starts thinking in a very improper manner about you.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x female!supe reader.

Word count: 2k.

Warnings: smut!! hate sex, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies to fuck buddies, reader can control blood and explode shit (like Victoria Neuman lol), the usual mentions of violence.

Notes: this is a request made by @thatcharmingmushroom for my 400 followers drabbles celebration. I'm sorry I took soooo damn long on this, but I hope you like it and thank you so much for the idea because I had so much fun with it! I picked the Herogasm episode for this tho hehe

☕ if you like my writing support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

On the hunt for Payback, you made your way to infiltrate Herogasm along with Butcher, Hughie and the new asshole, Soldier Boy, not caring that the British dick ordered you a thousand times to stay back.

For different reasons, you were kind of forced to stay with the team, and while you didn’t really get along with any of them, Butcher was by far the one you hated the most. And, in the end, when Soldier Boy burned the whole place to the ground with a blast and Homelander arrived, you couldn’t stand there doing nothing. While the three men tried to hold down Homelander, you used your blood to create strong whips around his limbs, trying to tie him to the ground as Soldier Boy prepared to blast, yet again.

But just in seconds, Homelander recharged himself and pushed them all aside, cutting your whips, and flashing you quickly with his heat vision before storming out. Your blood blades barely made it to the hole he left in the roof as the supe just disappeared, flying away like a scared bitch.

“Well,” you started after an instant of staying silent. “I guess we fucking failed.”

Butcher shot you a dark glare as he walked straight until he stopped in front of you. “You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.

You held his eyes as he towered you with his broad figure. He looked even more intimidating now he started playing the supe, injecting himself with Compund V. “I don’t care.”

There was this smug smirk on his face as you talked back. You knew he hated you; you knew you hated him. But as fucking weird your powers were, controling blood and exploding people with their own, Butcher found you interesting and stupidly astonishing. But of course, he wasn’t going to admit it. They were just intrusive thoughts about you and how hot you were, defying his direct orders of strictly not coming to the supe-orgy. Yeah, Homelander was a fucking cunt, and he would take care of Soldier Boy soon too. Right now, he just needed something to take the stress out after another stupid failure. His hand would work later once back at the motel, he decided.

Butcher leaned down, until his lips almost brushed the shell of your ear. “We’ll see about that.”

“Why do I have to keep listening to you?” you asked as Butcher followed back to the motel.

You stopped right out of your door, because of course you weren’t going to share a room with him and the old asshole. Hughie, who went inside their room, was the only decent human being between all of them, but still, you had to take care of yourself from those fuckers. Besides, the British idiot wouldn’t stop the verbal vomiting the whole fucking trip and you were growing sick of it.

“Because, for starters, you’re a fucking newbie here,” Butcher replied, smirking hatefully. “And second, your powers are fucking out of control. You need training and keep your mouth shut.”

You rolled your eyes, showing him your wrists. “I already healed myself from the cuts I made. Perhaps I should use your blood next time?”

“No, there’s no next time for you.”

“You don’t decide that, Butcher,” you crossed your arms over your chest, tired of being treated like a stupid kid. “I’m helping on this, I want him dead. And if any of you idiots don’t kill him, then I will.”

He curved an eyebrow, not showing any signs of being taken aback at your words, but inside, he was just in awe as before. You really hated Homelander as much as he did, however, you didn’t have a fucking plan. You would attack first, ask questions later. In any way, since when could he care about that? He had no idea.

“Hey,” Soldier Boy talked behind Butcher and stepped in closer between both of you. “You fucking stay back from this, you ain’t doing shit with your blood whips.”

Furious, you motioned your hand to draw fresh blood from a wound on his cheek and created a sharp blade, cutting his skin lightly. Soldier Boy clenched his jaw before smirking at you.

“Talk to me like that ever again and I’ll blow your dick, and not the way you like it,” you warned through your teeth.

Soldier Boy wiped the blood off the fresh wound, and smiled anew before patting Butcher on the shoulder. “She’s all yours, pal.”

With that, the old supe disappeared in the next room. You just wanted this to be over, so you turned around to get inside your room, but Butcher wouldn’t leave you alone just yet, putting his foot between the door and the frame, holding it with his super strength.

“What the fuck you want now?!” you yelled at him as he made his way inside, slamming the door closed.

“Imma have to call the fucking CIA if you don’t calm down your ass,” he threatened between his teeth.

“You wouldn’t-”

“I can, and I fucking will,” he insisted, taking slow strides, making you step back from him until your back met the wall.

His eyes were getting dangerously dark and you could smell the sweat and dry blood coming from him. You noticed his pulse was increasing, and you grinned. Your mind jumped to an unsafe place where you probably knew what Butcher was feeling right now. The heat and coming down the high of what could have been the end of both yours and his enemy was too much to burden. Little did he know that you were the kind of person that used to take out the stress with something, or someone. Just like him.

“From one to ten, how much do you hate me?” you asked all of the sudden, looking straight into his eyes.

Butcher’s fierceful gaze turned into confusion. “What?”

“How fucking much do you hate me?” you repeated yourself steadier.

Butcher rolled his eyes before answering in a whisper. “I’d choose a one thousand scale for that.”

“Good, I hate you too,” you replied with a smirk before pulling him for a kiss that turned heated too fast, but you didn’t care.

You needed release. Something quick, hard and hot to take it out of your system. He was perfect for the task, and by the way his tongue tasted your mouth, you found out that he wouldn’t step back. At least you hoped so. The tension between both of you was so damn sharp and it was just a matter of time for that bomb to explode, and you preferred it this way instead of fighting each other to death.

Gripping the neck of his shirt to get even closer as you kissed, Butcher’s hands roamed all over your hips, running on your sides until he met the flesh of your ass on your jeans, pressing you towards his chest. You gasped against his mouth when he started to unzip your pants, you worked immediately on the buttons of his shirt. Desperately, you discharged his shirt, the fabric being followed to his pants, and he undressed you with the same eagerness until you were only panties and bra.

Butcher lifted you up from the ground, hands on your thighs as he guided you to the mattress. He crawled on top of you, spreading your legs with his big, rough hands and leaning down to lick down at your chest and rip your bra off. His action made you gasp out loud at the same time he sucked on a nipple like a starved man.

“You're a fucking beast,” you whimpered, feeling his hands peeling off your panties and leaving you completely exposed at his mercy.

You tugged at his jeans and he pulled them down along with his boxers as quickly as he could, taking out his dick with that smug smile on his stupid face. He noticed your eyes taking the sight of his half nakedness, biting your lip slightly once you focused on his hard cock pressing on your crotch. It only made you wet.

“Well, I plan to fuck you like one,” he said, grabbing the back of your legs and rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds.

“Show me, don’t talk- fuck!”

You let out a rather loud moan when he rubbed your clit with his fingers, playing with your entrance until he inserted a single, thick digit in your pussy. Butcher stretched you out with a finger, then slid a second one, scissoring them to reach your deepest spots as your walls clenched around his digits. You kept whimpering and moaning as he increased the thrusts of his hand.

“Bloody fuck, these are the only sounds I like coming from your mouth, luv,” he hissed, sensing that you almost came on his fingers.

Right before you reached your high, he pulled out and you groaned in annoyance, feeling empty once again.

“Shit,” you breathed out.

He positioned between your legs anew, getting comfortable as he started to push his tip against your slit. The grip of his hands on your thighs became a little harsh once he entered you slowly, the thickness of his cock splitting you open.

“What a tight cunt I always knew you’d be,” he grunted, filling you up completely and leaning down to mark your neck with his teeth.

His mouth and thrusts earned him your sweet moans as he fucked you senseless. The burning soon turned into pleasure. Your nails scratched his back while moaning incoherent words. His hands on your thighs would leave marks on your skin, but it felt so damn good. You needed a little bit of pain to remind you that you were alive, rotting for that sweet bliss only sex could give you.

Moans escaped from your throat and mingled with his deep groans and the sound of your skin against his own, the headboard of the bed hitting the wall with every of his hard thrusts. You pulled him down for a wet kiss when you felt closer and closer to come undone.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasped.

Butcher increased the rhythm of his thrusts, his cock throbbing as your walls started to clench around him.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he mumbled against your mouth.

“Do you still hate me?” you asked, trying to catch your breath. You reached down to rub your clit. You were so close, almost there.

“If I keep fucking you like this then I might change my mind- holy fuck!”

In that moment, you came hard with a string of curses and clenching your walls around his cock. The pound of his hips increased and he fucked you through your orgasm to reach his own. You continued rubbing your clit, fingers finding the place where you two connected, meeting his cock coated with your juices when he pulled out just slightly to slam back inside again.

Butcher emptied his cum inside you, mumbling dirty words against your ear. His rhythm slowing down eventually, fucking his seed in your pussy. Once he came down from his high, he pulled out and rolled by your side on the bed. Your body started to ache but in the best way possible. It was the best fuck you had in a long time. After a couple of minutes in complete silence you decided to talk, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I hope you keep hating on me…”

He turned slightly to see your blank face. “Why?”

“I love hate-fucking.”

He scoffed with a smile curving on his lips. “You bet I enjoyed this too.”

Within a second, you climbed on top of him. Thighs straddling his lap as you rubbed your cunt on his soft cock.

“Second round? You can eat me out and suck your cum out of me,” you gave him a wink, rolling your hips and leaning down for a quick kiss.

“Dirty girl,” Butcher whispered on your lips. “Perhaps put your mouth into good use.”

“I like how that sounds,” you smiled back at him.

Billy Butcher taglist

@delaynew

@thesilmarillionblog

@feyresqueen

@drasticemotions

[sweeterlovers]

MS. MADRID/ FERNANDO ALONSO + JUDE BELLINGHAM

jude bellignham x alonso reader / SMAU FIC

FACE CLAIM / none!

WARNINGS / some thirsting, cursing, and my little to none football knowledge

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TWITTER

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INSTAGRAM

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 126,973 others

yn.alonso ⚽️🥅🏟️

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user3 you survived your first game!!!!

yn.alonso it was a struggle 😭

user7 i remember when my boyfriend took me to football game and i swear i almost fell asleep like 10 times

user06 i’m sure fernando had a blast

lance_stroll you should come to a hockey game with me, it’s more entertaining

yn.alonso next time my dad tells me he has an extra ticket i’ll take you up on that offer

lance_stroll 😂 😂

fernandoalo_oficial i will force you to come to the next game

yn.alonso please don’t 🙏🙏

user2 i think you were the teams lucky charm 👏

user16 pretty girls support real madrid 😉

user0636 linda!!!! [ cute ]

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TWITTER

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yn.alonso posted on their story!

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, carmenmmundt, and 78,193 others

[ dinner in barcelona 🇪🇸 ]

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fernandoalo_oficial te ves hermosa [ you look beautiful ]

yn.alonso gracias papa [ thank you dad ]

judebellingham hey! i saw some of your tweets about me, i was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out for dinner with me? i’m in madrid for a bit!

yn.alonso heyyyyyy…… sorry you had to see those tweets

judebellingham don’t worry i’ve seen worse 😂

yn.alonso but i would love to go to dinner with you!

judebellingham great! i’ll text you the details :)

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liked by realmadridgossip, wagfootball, and 68,262 others

footballgossip jude bellingham spotted in Madrid on a date with a mystery girl! do we have a new football wag? let us know what you think!

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user2 my heart just shattered

user09 my husband got a girlfriend 😭

user7 who cares???

user666 someone needs to check on yn

user3 why?

user61 cause she’s down bad for him 😭

user12 ok but what if that’s her????

user9 oooooo!!!! your on to something

user4 wish that was me….

user8 y’all that’s me in the picture!

user218 girl me and you both know that that’s not true

user02 i wonder if they will come out to the public

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liked by yn.alonso, realmadrid, and 972,979 others

judebellingham spain so far 👍🇪🇸

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user5 HE SOFT LAUNCHED

user0 hope your having a good time!

user44 who’s the girl?

user8 if only we knew

user13 i just know yn is devastated

lucasvazquez91 🔥🔥🔥

user3 so fine and for what

fernandoalo_oficial 👏 👏

user46 is this a sign that yn and jude are together??????

user9 i love how fernando won’t let yn date an f1 driver but he’ll let her date a football player😭

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liked by judebellingham, carlossainz55 and 762,393 others

yn.alonso boyfriend so cute i had to hard launch him

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user4 yes yes yes

judebellingham your so cute

yn.alonso I LOVE U

user55 the question is did fernando approve?

yn.alonso he actually did!!! mostly cause that would mean i would watch football games with him……

user8 yeah he’s cute and all but that top is BEAUTIFUL

user00 ugh he’s so hot

user2 i’m just going to lay in the middle of the street for a bit

fernandoalo_oficial ❤️⚽️

user8 we are getting wag yn!!!!!!!

user6 i also thought she would date an f1 driver 😭😭😭

user7 nah fernando would crash into them

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TEAM RADIO / SWEETLOVERS - not my usual type of post but it’s been in my drafts for a bit.