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cialovesklopp · 2 days

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Made with Love

Charles Leclerc x amateur baker!Reader

Summary: in which Charles would rather risk the entire paddock getting food poisoning (again) than break your heart by telling you that your baking is horrible

You hum to yourself as you pull a tray of freshly baked cupcakes out of the oven. The sweet, chocolaty aroma fills Charles’ kitchen, making your mouth water.

This batch is sure to be perfect! You’ve been practicing your baking skills for months now, determined to get it just right.

Charles wanders into the kitchen, drawn by the scent. “Mmm, something smells good in here!”

He peers over your shoulder at the tray of cupcakes. They’re a bit misshapen, with cracked tops that deflated the second they were taken out of the oven. The frosting is glopped on unevenly.

To you, they look absolutely mouthwatering. To Charles, they look … well, he loves you too much to say.

“Try one!” You urge, holding out a cupcake. Charles flashes you a hesitant smile before taking it. He peels back the liner and takes a bite. His eyes widen and he forces himself to chew and swallow.

“Well? How is it?” You ask eagerly.

Charles clears his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s great. Your best batch yet,” he lies. In truth, it’s dry and dense, with a strange bitter aftertaste. But the delight on your face makes the fib worth it.

You throw your arms around him in a hug. “Yay! I can’t wait to share them with the team this weekend.”

Charles’ stomach drops. The thought of the entire paddock pretending to enjoy your baking makes him cringe internally. But he plasters on a smile. “What a nice idea! I’m sure they’ll love them.”

The two of you arrive at the circuit and you can barely contain your excitement as you carry a large container of cupcakes into the paddock. Charles trails behind you, backpack slung over one shoulder, his other arm wrapped around your waist. He presses a quick kiss to your temple before you flit off to distribute your baked goods.

You first approach Max Verstappen, holding out a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles. “Here Max, have one!”

Max eyes the treat dubiously but accepts it with a polite smile. “Thanks Y/N, that’s really nice of you.”

You beam and turn to Charles, missing the look of apprehension on Max’s face. Charles catches Max’s eye and draws a finger across his throat in warning. Max’s eyes widen but he nods in understanding. Charles won’t let anything ruin your mood today.

You make your way through the paddock, handing cupcakes to mechanics, engineers, PR reps, reporters, team principals, and drivers. Charles hovers behind you, keeping a watchful eye on each recipient.

Daniel Ricciardo visibly gags on his first bite when you turn away. Charles glares and shakes his head sharply. Daniel rearranges his face into a smile and gives a thumbs up.

Lando Norris takes an overly large bite and Charles has to pound on his back as he chokes it down.

Esteban Ocon discreetly spits his cupcake into a napkin when you’re not looking. Charles lunges forward and grabs his arm, squeezing tightly until Esteban wheezes out “Delicious!”

You remain blissfully unaware of the chaos that falls over the paddock in your wake, oblivious to Charles’ desperate interventions. All you see are your friends and acquaintances enjoying your baking.

When you finally offer a cupcake to Charles, he takes it and eats the whole thing without hesitation. Because even if it tastes like sugary sawdust, the delight on your face makes it the best treat in the world.

“Wasn’t that fun?” You gush to Charles afterwards. “I can’t wait to try out a new recipe soon!”

Charles just kisses your frosting-smudged nose and says, “I can’t wait either, mon amour.” As long as you’re happy, he’ll choke down all the questionable cupcakes you offer. Because your smile is the only thing that matters.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you and Charles arrive for the next race weekend, yet another batch of fresh baked goods in hand. You’re eager to share your latest creations — classic chocolate chunk cookies. You spent hours carefully following the recipe, determined to get them just right.

As you make your rounds distributing cookies, the reactions are the usual mix of forced smiles and discreet spitting. Charles trails behind you, glaring at anyone who doesn’t immediately rave about how delicious they are. The drivers and mechanics quickly catch on, showering you with praise and shooting Charles grateful looks when he turns you away.

You finally offer a cookie to Graham, a mechanic from the Mercedes team. He takes it hesitantly, eyeing Charles standing behind you. But Graham is new to the paddock and unaware of the baked goods situation.

He takes a bite and immediately grimaces. “Ugh, these taste terrible!” He blurts out.

You gasp, stumbling back as if struck. Tears well up in your eyes. Charles is at your side in an instant, pulling you into a comforting hug. Over your shoulder, he shoots Graham a look of absolute rage.

Graham realizes his mistake too late, shame washing over his face. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean ...” he stammers. But you’re already pulling away from Charles and rushing off, sobbing.

Charles turns on Graham, eyes blazing. “How could you? All she ever wants to do is make others happy!” Graham cowers before him, other mechanics backing away nervously.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Graham says miserably.

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Charles snarls. “You stay away from her, you hear me?” Graham nods shakily. Satisfied the message is received, Charles races after you.

He finds you behind the garage, face buried in your hands. “Oh mon ange,” Charles murmurs, wrapping you in his arms. “Don’t listen to him, your cookies are perfect.”

You cling to Charles, sniffling. “I just wanted to do something nice for everyone. But I’m so horrible at baking!”

Charles tilts your chin up. “You listen to me. You have the biggest, kindest heart. It doesn’t matter if the cookies are a little, er, overdone. What matters is you put love into making them. Don’t let someone like Graham get you down.”

You smile tremulously. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best boyfriend ever?”

Charles grins. “Hmm, I don’t mind hearing it again.” Laughing through your tears, you tell him again, punctuating it with a kiss.

After ensuring you’re okay, Charles seeks out Graham. “I trust you’ll be more considerate going forward?” Graham nods meekly. “Good. But just so we’re clear, if you upset her again, you’ll be out of this paddock for good.”

The next day, the news breaks that Graham has been dismissed from the Mercedes team for “attitude issues.” You feel a bit guilty, hoping your cookies didn’t cause him to lose his job. But Charles seems strangely satisfied, so you don’t dwell on it.

From then on, Charles redoubles his efforts to protect your feelings whenever you provide baked goods. The paddock falls in line, fawning over your overly salty pretzels and dry banana bread.

The brightness of your smile makes it all worth it to Charles. Because keeping that joy and kindness shining in you is what matters most to him.

***

You step out of Charles’ Ferrari, the engine purring as he puts it in park. Taking his hand, you smile excitedly — today is another fan meetup organized by the team, and you can’t wait to connect with Charles’ supporters again.

“Are you ready, mon cœur?” Charles asks, squeezing your hand gently. His green eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you adoringly.

“Absolutely!” You chirp, patting the large picnic basket hanging off your arm. “I made lots of treats to share today!”

Charles grins and leans in to kiss your forehead. “I’m sure they will love everything you made, as always.”

You beam, bolstered by his encouragement as you both make your way to the event. The meetup is being held in a local park, with tents and tables set up amongst the lush green grass and towering trees. You spot a long line of fans waiting eagerly for Charles’ arrival. Most are dressed in the familiar rosso corsa of Ferrari, holding posters and memorabilia for him to sign.

“Charles! Charles!” They chant excitedly when they see him. You hang back happily, letting him have his moment with his dedicated supporters. Charles takes selfies, signs autographs, and chats animatedly in Italian, French, and English. The fans are thrilled to interact with their racing idol.

After some time, Charles waves you over. “I would like you all to meet someone very special to me,” he announces, wrapping an arm around you. The fans erupt into cheers and applause. “This is Y/N, my love.”

You blush at the attention but manage to give a little wave. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to be here today.”

Charles addresses the crowd again. “As some of you know, Y/N loves to bake and has brought some special treats to share with you all today.”

This is met with more enthusiastic cheers. Though none of them particularly enjoy your baked goods, the fans appreciate the effort and know Charles likes to reward them for humoring you.

You open up your large picnic basket, beaming with pride. “I made my favorite oatmeal raisin cookies, some lemon squares, and my famous rocky road fudge!”

The fans try not to visibly cringe, lining up politely with plates held out. You happily distribute your overly dry, burnt cookies and gooey, cloying fudge. The lemon squares are mushy and saccharine. But the fans accept it all with smiles and encouragement.

“Mmm, delicious!” One teenage girl forces out through a mouthful of your fudge.

An older man gives you a thumbs up as he chokes down a cookie, eyes watering. “So good!”

You beam, pleased that they enjoy your baking so much. As you chat with each person, you don’t notice Charles discreetly handing out autographed photos, caps, and other prized memorabilia to reward the fans for their efforts.

After you’ve handed out all your baked goods, Charles suggests a stroll through the park gardens. As you walk hand-in-hand admiring the flowers, he says softly, “You have such a big heart, Y/N. The way you care so much about connecting with the fans means the world to me.”

You squeeze his hand gratefully. “It’s the least I can do — they support you in everything, so I want to support them too.”

Charles stops and turns to you, his expression tender. “You are amazing, truly. I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He leans in and kisses you sweetly. Your heart flutters just like the first time your lips met.

When you return from your walk, the event is winding down. You say goodbye to the fans, who thank you profusely for the treats and making their day so special. You tell them you can’t wait to bake for them again soon!

After the last fan leaves, it’s just you and Charles. The late afternoon sun casts golden light on the empty picnic tables.

“Did you have fun, mon amour?” Charles asks, caressing your cheek.

“The best time!” You say enthusiastically. “I just love baking for your wonderful fans and seeing how it makes them smile.”

Charles’ eyes are full of love. He kisses the top of your head. “As long as it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to me.”

You snuggle into his chest happily. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“I don’t think so,” Charles teases. “Why don’t you remind me again?”

You grin up at him. “I’ll tell you over dinner … I have a new donut recipe I want to try out.”

Charles fights down a grimace as he reminds himself that your love is more than worth suffering through another dreadful dessert. “I can’t wait!”

***

“Mate, you have to stop her before she poisons someone,” Max whispers urgently to Charles as you step out of the room.

Charles furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. Her baking. It’s … it’s just terrible. I’m sorry, but it has to be said.”

Charles lets out a dismissive chuckle. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Max raises his eyebrows incredulously. “I chipped a tooth on her brownie last week!”

Charles rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he avoids making eye contact.

“Look, I get that you don’t want to upset her,” Max continues, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “But we can’t keep lying and pretending it’s good! One of these days, someone is going to end up in the hospital.”

Charles sighs deeply, running a hand through his tousled hair. “What do you want me to do? If I tell her the truth, she’ll be devastated.”

You return to the room then, a bright smile on your face as you carry a plate of freshly baked apple tarts. “Who wants one?”

Max cringes almost imperceptibly while Charles shoots him a warning look. “They look great, ma belle!” He says with forced enthusiasm, taking one and bringing it to his lips.

The apple filling is gelatinous and tastes faintly of soap. Charles forces himself to swallow it with a strained smile. Max quickly declines when you offer him one.

Later that evening, Charles finds Max alone outside his apartment building. “I need your help,” he admits defeatedly.

Max looks at him expectantly.

“With Y/N’s baking … how do I get her to stop without completely crushing her?”

His friend contemplates this for a moment. “Well … you could try convincing her to take up a new hobby instead?”

Charles shakes his head. “I’ve suggested that before, but she’s dead set on baking. It’s her biggest passion.”

“Okay, then you’ll have to take a different approach.” Max strokes his chin thoughtfully. “What if … you told her a bunch of us were going vegan or something, so she couldn’t bake for us anymore?”

Charles raises an eyebrow at the suggestion, but then slowly nods. “You know, that could actually work …”

The next day, you eagerly bring a fresh batch of blueberry muffins to the paddock to share with everyone. Charles takes a deep breath before pulling you aside gently.

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” He starts, trying to keep his expression neutral.

You blink up at him curiously. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Well …” He clears his throat. “I was talking to the guys and … Lewis has actually convinced a bunch of them to go vegan. Lando, Max …”

He lists off a dozen more names, watching as realization dawns on your face. Your shoulders slump slightly.

“Oh … I see.” You glance down at the muffins in your hands. “I guess that means I can’t really bake for them anymore.”

Charles feels a pang of guilt at the disappointment in your eyes. But then, your expression brightens again.

“I’ll just have to start baking vegan treats instead!” You declare happily. “This is so exciting, I’ve been wanting to experiment with more plant-based ingredients!”

Charles’s shoulders tense as the plan epically backfires. Of course you’d take this as an opportunity to bake even more.

Over the next few weeks, you gleefully embrace the vegan baking lifestyle. Charles has to smother his laughter when Max nearly chokes biting into one of your “chewy” vegan brownies. Lando spits out a mouthful of your gritty vegan chocolate cake when you’re not looking.

You, however, remain blissfully unaware of how dreadful your creations are. No matter how many hints Charles tries to drop, the problem only seems to be getting worse.

One evening, you set a plate of fresh-from-the-oven vegan peanut butter cookies on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch next to Charles with a proud grin.

“Try one!” You insist, picking a cookie up and holding it in front of his lips.

Charles hesitates for just a second too long. Your face falls and he scrambles to take a bite, barely suppressing a wince as he chews on what feels like a solid lump of chalk mixed with peanut shavings. He forces himself to swallow it down with an enthusiastic grin.

“Wow, these are incredible!” He lies through his teeth. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

You perk up immediately, the dejected look vanishing. “You really think so? I tried a new recipe I found online.”

“Definitely a winner,” Charles affirms, trying his best to sound convincing. “We should bring some to the paddock for everyone to try.”

Your eyes light up at the suggestion and guilt twists in Charles’s gut. The last thing he wants is for the other drivers to have to suffer through these … confections. But he could never be the one to shatter your baking dreams.

The next day at the track, you eagerly pass around the plate of peanut butter hockey pucks to the drivers and crew. Charles discreetly pulls Max aside with a pained look.

“Please, I’m begging you …” he murmurs under his breath. “Just smile and nod, no matter how bad they are.”

Max grimaces as he takes an experimental bite of one of the cookies, his expression doing little to mask his revulsion. But he meets Charles’s pleading gaze and forces out a strangled, “Mmm … great!”

One by one, the others follow suit — fake smiles and strained praises as they choke down your baked atrocities. You remain obliviously pleased, unaware of their suffering.

Over the next few weeks, the vegan baking experiments only seem to get worse and worse. The paddock has become a silent circle of culinary martyrs — all sworn to an unspoken code to preserve your feelings at all costs.

You proudly present a tray of charcoal-colored muffins that leave the entire garage coughing from the plume of burnt flour. “Tried a new recipe for dark chocolate avocado muffins!” You explain brightly.

“Can’t wait to dig in,” Lando is close to crying, his eyes already watering.

Charles has to bite back a laugh as Max takes a heroic bite, barely managing to keep it together. He pats the Dutchman on the back firmly as the poor guy fights back a gag reflex.

“Two more words about her baking and you’ll be racing with three wheels next season,” he warns Carlos in a low mutter after witnessing the Spaniard nearly vomit up a slice of your “moist” vegan zucchini bread.

The sheer willpower it takes for the entire crew to maintain the facade is almost impressive. Technique and strategy meetings have now become immense displays of unspoken fortitude — everyone driven by the simple goal of not letting you catch on that your baked goods are, in fact, completely inedible.

Charles has started bringing backup protein bars and shakes to every race just to make sure nobody accidentally lapses into baked good-induced delirium.

He really has no idea how much longer this can possibly be sustained. But he also has no idea how to safely extract the situation without demolishing your passion and self-confidence in the process.

For now, his main objective is to ensure your bright smile and cheerfulness remain unchanged — no matter how many mouths he has to personally silence to make that happen.

At the end of the day, having you by his side, radiating that infectious joy and following your heart’s desire, is worth enduring all the subpar vegan muffins in the world.

He’ll take a bite of your latest abomination with an adoring grin, because that’s what partners who truly love each other do — they support each other through the good, the bad, and the burnt-to-a-crisp.

***

It’s the start of a new season, and Charles has been racking his brain for a solution to the ongoing baking saga. As much as he loves indulging your passion, the charade is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. The entire paddock is at their wits’ end trying to choke down your vegan torture devices week after week.

That’s when he has an idea — one he hopes will be a win-win for everyone involved.

“Surprise!” He says with an excited grin, presenting you with the envelopes. “I got us signed up for this baking course. I thought it could be fun for us to take some classes together!”

You’re beaming as you throw your arms around his neck. “That’s such a thoughtful idea! I would love nothing more.”

Of course, Charles being Charles is hardly fully forthright about his motivations. “To be honest, I’m the one who really needs the help,” he fibs sheepishly. “We all know I’m a disaster in the kitchen. But with your talents guiding me, maybe there’s hope!”

Over the next few weeks, you and Charles diligently show up for your baking classes. The instructor walks you through fundamentals like properly measuring ingredients, controlling oven temperatures, and mastering technical skills. Slowly but surely, your creations start emerging looking (and smelling) better and better.

One evening, you return home with a fresh tray of beautifully baked chocolate chip cookies — the first delicacy you’ve felt confident enough to bake since the lessons. You present them to Charles with bated breath.

He takes one tentative bite, his eyes widening in surprise. These are actually ... edible! More than edible — they are legitimately delicious! The dough-to-chip ratio is perfect, the texture is chewy but not dry or crumbly. He quickly stuffs two more into his mouth with an appreciative moan.

“Ma belle … these are incredible!” He gasps out between bites.

You clap your hands over your mouth, eyes shining with glee. “Oh my gosh, you really think so? I was so nervous!”

“Are you kidding? I could eat this entire tray all by myself!”

The two of you dissolve into celebratory laughter and hugs, the sweet taste of success quite literally on your tongues.

“I think it’s time for the real taste test,” you declare one day, rolling up your sleeves as you start prepping an array of fresh baked goods. “We’re taking these bad boys to the paddock!”

The next race weekend, you stride in carrying bakery boxes of your fresh chocolate chip cookies as well as some decadent fudge brownies.

“Fresh out of the oven!” You announce proudly, setting them down with a bright grin. “Who’s hungry?”

For a long beat, nobody moves. The drivers exchange wary glances, their self-preservation instincts kicking in as they recall the many baking debacles of the past. Lando bravely reaches for a brownie first, his face scrunched up preemptively-

Only to blink in surprise as the rich, fudgy flavor hits his taste buds. His eyes widen comically as he takes another bite. “Bloody hell ... this is actually good!”

The words seem to shatter the suspended tension. Soon the entire paddock is swarming the trays, devouring the fresh baked goods with delight. Charles watches on in disbelief, his own taste buds experiencing flavors he didn’t even know were possible from your former creations.

He sees Max take a bite of one of the cookies, freezing in place as his eyes slip closed with an expression of pure bliss. When they open again, Charles is alarmed to see they’re glistening with unshed tears.

The Dutchman wordlessly holds up the cookie, gazing at Charles reverently as a lone tear trails down his cheek. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he brings the baked good to his lips and takes another sensual bite, savoring it like it’s the first good thing he’s ever tasted.

From then on, it’s like a switch has been flipped. The paddock that once dreaded your baking now seemingly can’t get enough of it. Every race weekend, they await your fresh creations with unrestrained enthusiasm, like kids on a sugar bender.

Charles has lost count of how many times he’s caught drivers and crew sneaking off to wherever you’re prepping the latest batch, nostrils flaring as they try to scout out that heavenly aroma.

It’s gotten to the point where Max’s performance coach has had to implement strict rules about his treat consumption to prevent indulgences from derailing his season.

“Easy there, Max!” Rupert calls in a booming tone, swooping in to physically restrain the Dutchman as he makes a mad dash toward where you’re unpacking that week’s fresh delivery. “You know you have a limit on those.”

Max strains against his performance coach’s grip, eyes zeroing in on the platter of goodies being unloaded with unrestrained longing. “I don’t care, she brought triple chocolate cookie dough brownies this time! Let me go!”

Rupert grunts in exertion, struggling to keep his driver in check. “This is for your own good! Think of your diet!”

“That’s irrelevant!” Max practically snarls, pupils blown wide like an addict suffering from withdrawals. “Do you have any idea how long I waited to have real baked goods again?”

It’s a battle of wills and metabolism that quickly becomes a weekly sight. Charles can’t help but chuckle fondly as he watches Max and Rupert’s familiar tug-of-war happen like clockwork every Sunday.

As much as he’d love to intervene, he knows better than to come between Max and your heavenly baked creations. He’s just thrilled that this baking journey took such a delicious turn — both for your invigorated culinary passion and for the safety of everyone’s tastebuds.

Honestly, he’ll take the sight of a feverish Max drooling over freshly baked goods any day over having to choke down burnt muffins and brittle biscuits. This is the sweet upgrade everyone had been dreaming about.

The true recipe for happiness was sticking by each other’s side through all those halfbaked stumbles.

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cialovesklopp · 6 days

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Was ur old user paradisehamilton?

sorry for the late reply, but no — always been cia ☺️

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cialovesklopp · 7 days

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AND HE SCORES AGAIN

THATS MY HUSBAND 🫶🏾😫

#jude bellingham #bellingoal #el clásico #real madrid #HES HIM

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cialovesklopp · 9 days

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from the man himself 💜

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cialovesklopp · 9 days

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something about nico's “ lewis lap for me, was the lap of a seven time world champion....” and “ that's a great result from lewis and mercedes...they were really struggling out there..and he uh, he did a magical lap there..which is typical of lewis in those conditions as well...” does it for me today.

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cialovesklopp · 10 days

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Andrea Stella confirming McLaren didn't even advocate to have the lap reinstated, he literally just said "they just changed their mind" lol. LOL!!!!!

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cialovesklopp · 10 days

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P✌🏽 on the Sprint Grid

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cialovesklopp · 10 days

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Something fluff about Kylian having a newborn baby 🥺

in which kylian experiences life as a father to a newborn baby.

the front door slammed shut and you winced at how loud it was, eyes darting to the crib to see if your daughter had woke up.

kylian creeped into the room and your finger touched your lips, silently asking him to be quiet. “she’s just gone down about five minutes ago.”

he looked down at his daughter and smiled. she looked so peaceful just lay there, her tiny hands clutching the air. “i brought us dinner.”

even though you knew you looked like a mess, kylian didn’t mind and he pulled you out of bed, dragging you towards the dining room.

there were baby monitors in every room of the house, something kylian had made sure you had to make sure the baby was okay wherever he went.

as kylian plated dinner up, you picked at your nails with a disgusted look. how could you let them get this bad?

kylian noticed the way you had been looking at yourself lately and because he had the day off work tomorrow, he wanted to do something for you.

“why don’t you go out tomorrow and relax? i’ll stay with the baby and you can ask your sister to go.”

it was stupid really how relieved you were. you’d took five months off work to care for your daughter, but you’d somehow forgotten about yourself during the process.

“will you be okay on your own?”

“y/n, i’m a grown man. i’ve got to learn too, you know?”

“there’s some baby milk in the fridge and she might need a bath. are you sure you’ll be fine?”

he rolled his eyes, not out of annoyance but because he wanted you to go and have a nice time. “stop worrying. i’ll ring if anything happens. now go, have fun!”

you kissed him on the lips, kissing your daughter on the head as well before leaving the house, meeting your sister outside.

“looks like it’s just us, bug,” kylian said, his daughter staring back up at him with her big bambi eyes. sometimes he’d lay there at night and think about what life would be like when she could talk.

he’d find himself wondering if she’d be a scientist or a doctor, how many kids she would have, what her favourite movie would be.

she looked peaceful in his arms and he started feeling bad for how much he was away from home. what if he missed her first words or first steps?

“you have to promise me that when you start talking, you’ll wait for me to be here, okay?” kylian said, his finger booping her nose.

most of the day was spent watching cartoons with kylian secretly liked, but he’d never admit it. feeding was pretty easy but when it came time for her to sleep, well it wasn’t going well.

“please, mon chéri. you have to go to sleep.”

her wails could probably be heard from down the street and kylian was trying his hardest to calm her down. he thought about ringing you but that would make you think he couldn’t do it alone.

kylian flicked the cartoons back on but still, she stayed crying. he remembered the only thing that calmed him down as a kid was his mother’s lullaby, so he started singing it softly.

she stopped and stared at him, her small fingers wrapped around his thumb. it was like she was exploring, learning everything about her dad by feeling his fingers and looking into his eyes.

after three minutes of the same lullaby over and over, she finally began to shut her eyes and kylian let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in.

kylian didn’t want to move her back to her crib in case she woke up again, so he moved over, resting his head against the headboard and letting sleep find him.

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cialovesklopp · 11 days

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the way my heart just clenched because of jude, i swear i can’t stand my husband hurt

#jude bellingham #real vs city #real madrid #MY HUSBAND IS PLAYING SO WELL #MY MAN

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cialovesklopp · 17 days

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The Love Hypothesis Masterlist

Y/N is a third year grad student who kisses the first man she sees in order to cover up a lie. What happens when she finds out that the man she kisses is none other than the legendary Dr. Spencer Reid? Will Dr. Reid play along?

Link to join taglist!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine: Finale

~COMPLETED~

*loosely based off of the novel The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood, I have NO INTENTION of copying/reproducing their work, simply drawing inspiration from the storyline*

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cialovesklopp · 18 days

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jurgen klopp broke my heart before any boy ever could

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cialovesklopp · 19 days

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klopp and his son🥺

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cialovesklopp · 20 days

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the amount of pundits talking about lewis ‘angrily storming’ out of his interview today when we all know he probably said ‘do you have any better questions?’ in his usual soft voice without a hint of anger lol

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cialovesklopp · 20 days

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it's been a million goddamn years and "journalists" still ask Sir Lewis Hamilton stupid fucking "questions" all the time hoping for a reaction. guess what?? he's built different!!! AND if he does react like a regular human being once I'd never turn against him because I know of all the constant disrespect he gets and has gotten his entire life.

99% of the people in that paddock will never understand what he's been through and as they continue to bait him they still don't realize they could never and can never be close to him and his impact on the world

AND he knows that. so that's one of the many reasons he keeps going despite them all. and for the people who look up to him.

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cialovesklopp · 26 days

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The Lucky One (Spencer Reid x Reader)

summary: reader used to be spencer's best friend until she changed everything about herself to fit in with the cool kids. now she's a star in hollywood, but she doesn't recognize herself. after a public meltdown, she runs to the only person who could remember who she really is. series summary: a series of oneshots to celebrate the release of red (taylor's version). 19 songs, 19 fics. pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst with happy ending, a bit of fluff in there content warnings: language, mentions of bullying, implied/mentions of sexual harassment (movie industry, specifically) word count: 3.7k

series masterlist masterlist send me a request!

“New to town with a made-up name in the angel's city chasing fortune and fame..."

Spencer never used to understand why the team didn’t believe him when he said he knew you.

“We were best friends in school,” Spencer would tell them as they all gathered around with the gossip article in hand.

He couldn’t help but think how beautiful and badass you looked on the front cover, announcing that you’d be the lead hero in the next big superhero movie. It would be the biggest break you’ve had yet, Spencer couldn’t imagine how excited you must have felt at that moment.

“Sure, Kid,” Morgan chuckled, and it was easy to read his face and see the other man was teasing him.

“We were! We used to watch Star Trek together after school and I taught her how to play chess.” That only seemed to get more laughs from the crowd. Spencer knew they were his friends and they only meant it as a joke, but it was frustrating that he couldn’t convince them of the truth.

Just because you were a famous actress now didn’t mean you couldn’t have once known him.

“I’m sorry, Spence, I can’t imagine Y/N L/N watching Star Trek,” JJ told him gently, an amused smile on her face.

Spencer could though. It was easy; sitting there on your couch watching movies and shows with you was one of the few truly happy memories he had from his childhood. The friendship he’d had with you was easy, having gotten paired up with you for reading time one day and never looking back.

“If you’re friends with her, why don’t you just call her?” Elle suggested, leaning back in her seat and looking proud of her solution.

Spencer’s hands almost grabbed his phone until he remembered why her solution really wasn’t much of one at all. “I can’t,” he sighed, hands moving to pick at his fingers instead.

“Why not, Pretty Boy? You don’t have your secret actress girlfriend on speed dial?” Morgan teased, causing Spencer to roll his eyes.

“I never said she was my girlfriend,” he huffed, hoping to infuse as much sass as possible in the statement. Regardless, he was unable to escape the laughs of his teammates as he plotted how to get back at them for this. He’d prove that he knew you, and he couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces when he did.

After only a year of it, you couldn’t wait for middle school to end. There was nothing worthwhile about spending so many hours at the school building only to be picked on and teased. Middle school kids could be painfully honest and horribly cruel when given the free space to do so. It was just unfortunate that you were often taking the brunt of it.

Luckily, you still had your best friend. You’d met Spencer in elementary school, remembering how happy you were to be paired up with the genius of the class. He never once made you feel stupid, but rather sat with you and helped you through the words you didn’t understand yet, excited to be able to share his knowledge with someone who cared to hear it.

You sat with him now after class let out, knowing your mother would yell at you for the grass stains in the knees of your jeans but not caring. Spencer used to walk home from school, several miles out of the way. When your mom found out, she started driving him home too when she got off of work. Ever since then, she held a soft spot for your friend, letting him stay over despite all of the rules she had surrounding boys in the house.

“Are you staying for dinner tonight?” you asked him, fingers picking at a yellow dandelion in your hands.

“Can I?” It was the same routine every time. Spencer would ask, keeping his eyes trained on his sneakers so as to not betray the hope filling up his expression.

Every single time you’d smile, give him a hug, and say, “Of course. Mom already said you’re always welcome.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Spencer would tell you, softly as though he didn’t want anyone to overhear. It was sometimes tough for him to accept help, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he actually hadn’t wanted anyone to hear it.

“That’s what best friends are for,” you grinned, standing up when you recognized your mother’s car pulling into the lot. “I think we’re having chicken and salad for dinner.”

So the two of you would talk boisterously on the drive home, now out of earshot from your classmates. The topics would flow and run together with such fluidity that your mother often admitted your conversations hardly made sense to her. That was okay, they only needed to make sense to you two.

Then you would burst into your house, shoes flying off as the two of you ran up to your bedroom. You remember when you were six and your mother first laid down the ground rules for when friends came over. Boys weren’t allowed in your room until you were fifteen, and even then it would be with the door open. She hadn’t met Spencer yet, though, hadn’t been able to predict how inseparable you two would become.

So you would lay across the floor and do homework together until dinner. Spencer always finished his first, but sat with you and talked while you did yours. He’d help when you asked but had learned a long time ago that you liked trying to do it on your own first. You’d eat dinner with your parents, them asking each of you about your days as if Spencer was one of their own. With as many nights as he was at your house, maybe it really did start to feel like that for them.

Then Spencer would begin stalling his exit for the night until you suggested a sleepover; never being willing to be the one to ask but never wanting to go either. You’d make a pillow fort on the ground and climb in, the two of you curled up around each other.

A girl at school once told you it wasn’t normal for a boy and girl to act as you and Spencer did without dating. You thought you liked him, sure, but you much preferred being his best friend. At least you thought you did.

The two of you would lay there in the almost dark of your room for hours, talking about anything and everything.

“What happens when we’re adults?” Spencer asked that night, voice small as he chose a more serious topic for the night.

“I’ll make you promise to talk to me every day,” you answered.

“You think we’ll still be friends?”

“Spencer, I know we will,” you told him, nudging him a little. “We’re best friends, nothing can split us up.”

“Do you promise?”

“Of course I do. We’re unstoppable together.”

The headline was absurd.

“Didn’t know your girlfriend had anger issues,” Derek teased, slapping the gossip magazine down on Spencer’s desk.

He hadn’t heard that particular joke in a while. It used to be that they would bring it up any time you made the front cover—which was to say, often. Eventually, though, it had ebbed away in favor of the team’s other group jokes. It was all in good fun and Spencer found himself joining in more often than not as he got comfortable with the group.

Still, when it came to this headline, there was no joking around.

‘Y/N L/N THROWS TEMPER TANTRUM AND VERBALLY ASSAULTS DIRECTOR, QUITS ACTING.’

There was no way any of it was true. Ignoring the blatant misogyny of the wording, there was nothing about the statement that screamed anything you would do. Though it had been years since Spencer had been in contact with you, and the parting hadn’t exactly been friendly, he knew you had to be the same sweet woman he knew. Verbally assaulting someone at work didn’t sound right at all and left a pit in his stomach that he couldn’t quite explain.

So did the fact that you supposedly quit acting. Ever since you were a kid, you were adamant about acting. “I’ll be so famous one day, Spencer,” you would vow, loudly proclaiming that there would come a day where he’d come along with her to the Oscars. Spencer had been filled with pride when he saw you in your first major movie, even more so when you’d landed this massive blockbuster superhero movie.

Your dreams were coming true, it didn’t make sense for you to quit now.

In truth, Spencer worried about it all day. Though he tried to focus on work, his mind kept circling back to the gossip magazine that still sat at the edge of his desk where Morgan had placed it.

‘Young upstart Y/N L/N has vowed to never act in another movie again, stating that she’s “tired of this fucking bullshit city.” If you ask me, she couldn’t handle the pressure.’

It wasn’t right. Though he hadn’t spoken to her in months, Spencer almost considered reaching out to Lila just to see if she knew anything about the situation.

Regardless, Spencer was relieved when the end of the workday came. Normally he dreaded the end of the day because that meant leaving all of his favorite people, but now his entire body was shaking from an unidentifiable energy that made him want to scream and run from the building. So as soon as Hotch told them all to go home, Spencer was cramming things into his bag and practically running to the elevator.

He needed to do some research beyond this biased article. He had to find out why you were giving up on everything he thought you cared about.

As Spencer approached his apartment door, he realized he’d get his answers far sooner than he ever thought. The figure leaning against his apartment door was dressed casually, jeans and a dark hoodie that was pulled up over their head. Still, he easily recognized the figure for who they were.

“Y/N? Why are you here?”

The rest of middle school and early days of high school had not been kind to you.

The second the school had Spencer move up several grades, you were doomed. You’d never felt more alone than that first year without him. You’d tried to continue hanging out, but he graduated high school at twelve and moved all the way to California. He moved away from you to go be successful, leaving you to figure out how to last in this school.

That’s why you were pissed now. “What the fuck do you mean, I’ve changed?” you snapped. How dare he come back into town now after five years just to criticize you.

“I don’t recognize you, Y/N. You’re pretending to hate all the things we used to do together, you’re dressing differently, acting differently. I don’t know who you are,” Spencer told you, and normally you would’ve been crushed to see the disappointed look in his eyes.

Now it only served to spur you on more. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I do, Y/N. You became the kind of person who made our lives miserable for so many years. Do you have any idea what those kinds of people did to me in high school?”

“Of course, I know!” you shouted back, hating the way anger-filled tears burned at your eyes. You clenched your hands into fists so he couldn’t see the way they shook as you thought of the moment your friends had told you about what their older graduated friends had done to Spencer, the way you’d had to laugh at it too. When Spencer left, you quickly learned it was easier to play the part and join them before they could hurt you too. “You got out of here fast, Spencer. Two years and you were done with this town. You left me behind.”

“What was I supposed to do? Did you want me to wait for you?”

“I wanted you to pretend I existed! You never talked to me once, you just left, and then that was it. You got to leave, and I had to figure out how to survive here. I’m sorry if you don’t approve of my methods.”

“This isn’t you, Y/N.”

“You have no fucking idea who I am, Spencer Reid, you never will.”

If there was one sight Spencer never thought he’d see, it was you curled up in comfy clothes in his apartment. You had one of his blankets wrapped around your shoulders, legs tucked up so your thighs were pressed to your chest. Your hands cradled a cup of hot cocoa, and if your skin burned from the heat you never once made any indication of it.

The woman you saw now was not the Y/N he knew, but nor was it the woman he saw plastered on all of those billboards and posters. You looked defeated, broken down in a way no person should ever be. There were deep circles under your eyes that Spencer was sure matched his own, your hair tied up hastily and eyes staring into the mug in your hands.

It had been twenty minutes since Spencer arrived home to see you standing there. He wouldn’t ask how you found him, instead gently guiding you into the apartment and trying to remember what used to cheer you up when you two were kids.

It was only seeing you in his apartment now that made Spencer realize it had been well over a decade since the last time you were friends. The last good year you two had together was when you were ten years old, right before Spencer had moved up in grade level.

“I’m sorry about the movie,” Spencer finally said, breaking the silence that clung in the air between you two.

“I’m not,” you answered simply, shrugging your shoulders a little and once more stunning him into silence. You sighed, likely realizing that you would have to explain more. Spencer really did try not to profile his friends and family, but it was near impossible not to notice the subtle changes in your expression as you began talking; the way the skin around your eyes crinkled and your lips tensed as you spoke. “I haven’t been happy for a long time. It was my turn to get out of Hollywood.”

“I thought being an actress was your dream job?”

“It was. And damn, I loved the acting. I hated everything else that came with it. The fakeness, and the false pleasantries. The interviews, the paparazzi. I hated the way some of the men in power thought they could treat me,” you explained, and suddenly it made sense.

“That director, did he...?”

“Yeah, he was an ass. Made me uncomfortable every single day I was on set. I was having panic attacks every day thinking about having to let him talk to me like that and still give him a smile. Everyone just lets it happen too because he holds the power on set and we could be blacklisted for less,” you explained, breaking Spencer’s heart with each additional word. He had heard rumors of what the movie industry was like, but he’d never heard it so blatantly. It made his stomach churn at the thought of someone he cared about going through that because he also had a feeling you weren’t saying everything. There was more to the story that you weren’t willing to tell yet, and that was okay. He’d be here when you were.

“Why come here?” he had to ask finally.

You were silent for a long time, such a long time that Spencer began to believe he wouldn’t be getting a response. Finally, you parted your lips and said in such a small voice he had to lean forward to hear, “I think you’re the only person who ever really knew who I am. I’ve lost myself, but you always believed in me. I left behind the one person who ever truly accepted every part of me.”

“I left you behind first,” Spencer countered, thinking back to the last major fight that had happened between the two of you. After, he’d wanted to make things right but had had no idea how. Maybe this was it, years later when you were both older and wiser.

“You let me back in.”

“You came back.” Spencer leaned forward, close enough to you on the couch that he could hold you if that was what you wanted. After everything you’d just told him though, he’d let you come to him when you were ready.

As usual, you surprised Spencer once again by practically throwing yourself into his arms. Your head pressed to his chest, all Spencer could do was wrap his arms around you and squeeze tightly, so thankful to have his best friend back in his life. Because as much as he understood you, there were parts of him that only you had seen and accepted so wholly.

“Can I stay?” you asked, eyes fluttering shut as you were comforted by the gentle beating of Spencer’s heart.

“Please do,” Spencer answered, unable to help the little whimper that came out as he thought about all the times you two had left each other. It had burned each time, leaving a notch in his heart with every step you two had taken away from each other. Now though, now it was just you two in his apartment. For all he knew, it could’ve been only you two left on Earth.

Now that Spencer had you in his arms, there was no way he was ever letting you go.

“Are you sure they’ll like me?” you’d asked Spencer for the fifth time that night on the walk to the bar.

Spencer’s eyes flitted to you, taking in how much you’d dressed up to meet his team, his family. After several months of getting to know one another again, Spencer could now proudly say you were his girlfriend. He wouldn’t waste a single second, immediately suggesting to the team that they meet the person he loved.

It helped a little that he could already imagine their reactions. He’d considered warning you—after all, people still stopped you to take pictures and sign things all the time here, and it never ceased to leave you with tensed shoulders and shaking hands—but hoped it would be different with his friends.

So as you two walked into the bar and over to the table, Spencer absolutely grinned at the faces you received.

“No way,” Emily let out, looking at Spencer as if he were a mythical creature she was laying eyes on for the first time.

“Y/N L/N. You weren’t kidding, Kid,” Morgan chuckled, standing to sling a playful arm around Spencer’s shoulders and earning a laugh from him too.

“Well, I guess that saves me a few extra seconds if you already know who I am,” you laughed breathily beside Spencer, squeezing his hand once for added reassurance.

Spencer loved the way your entire body relaxed with your team’s next words. It was like they could tell how much you hated your fame; honestly, considering their profile skills, they likely did know. “Pretty Boy here’s been crushing on you for years. We all thought he was making up the fact that he knew you,” Morgan laughed before introducing himself properly.

You laughed; a sprightly sound that made Spencer feel like he was floating on air. Some days were better than others. There were some days when you’d stay curled up in bed, lights dim, and unwilling to venture out into the world where all of those eyes would be on you. Because while you were preparing to come forward with the truth about the director, so far you’d stayed silent until you could compose a worthy statement. People judged you harshly for the meltdown on set, for quitting your job, and for “taking your privilege for granted.” It had angered Spencer, especially since he couldn’t do anything to help except support you in the comfort of your apartment.

Except now, you were in public and his team had all eyes on you. Where normally there would be judgment, Spencer’s family looked at you with nothing but love and care. He knew they looked at you like that because he hadn’t been this happy in a long time, and now they were finally meeting the person who caused it.

So you allowed yourself to be pulled into the booth beside Penelope, already excitedly talking to her and JJ about who-knows-what. Spencer couldn’t help but smile at how happy you looked. He caught your eye, blushing as you mouthed ‘I love you’ to him from across the table.

Morgan must have noticed. He gave Spencer a wide smile, a shine in his eyes that only came when he was proud of the kid. “I can’t believe you’re actually dating Y/N.”

“I told you I wasn’t lying.” And as Spencer looked around at his family who was already accepting you in, he couldn’t help but think that he truly was lucky to have this life.

SERIES TAGLIST

@samuel-de-champagne-problems @alexlovescriminalminds @reidsbookclub @givemeth @fightingdragonswithreid @eurydice-but-gay @girloncorneliastreet @silverhetdanes @just-a-human-witha-pen @shemarmooresfedora @rexorangecouny

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cialovesklopp · 27 days

Text

spence-tober: day 18 - archaeologist

pairing: archaeologist!spencer reid x fem!actress!reader

summary: in which you open up during an interview to promote your movie about your boyfriend, whom you met on set.

word count: 1950

warnings: fluff, not much if any dialogue between you and spencer, mostly story telling through descriptive narratives

spence-tober masterlist

From where you’re sitting on the famous Graham Norton’s couch, you can’t really see the stage audience, not with all the bright studio lights surrounding you on the set. But you don’t mind, it wasn’t like it was your first rodeo being on a talk show.

After all, you were a highly decorated actress having made your start when you were just a teen in indie films and then graduating to a TV show that ran for several seasons and then starring in blockbuster after blockbuster.

You’ve loved acting ever since your first theater class in high school and decided to try your shot right after you graduated. Since then, you’ve starred and dabbled in a lot of shows, movies, and other. It was only a few years ago when you had decided to accept a lot less roles than you usually would and be more picky, wanting to get an online degree and enjoy your young adult life.

Since your small break from acting, you’ve completed an online degree, learned some new hobbies, and did some small renovations on your house. You were already well off from box office backpoints, residuals, and contractual salaries and under your belt already you had a Tony, an Oscar, and two Emmy’s. You cooled down your ambition and worked on yourself.

Until that is, you got an interesting email in your inbox one day coming from one of the first directors that gave you a chance in the industry. In the indie film you had worked on together, both the director and you had risen to a small level of stardom and had been able to take on a lot more work after the film had released. You had bumped into each other a few times in the rest of your careers, but this time, they was reaching out for a role they thought you were perfect for and might be interested in.

It was a role to play an archaeologist in a historical film loosely based on a true story. You accepted the role and officially ended your small break in your acting career. Although you had taken on a few more roles here and there since finishing the shooting for the film, this was your first time back on a talk show to promote something you worked on.

“How is everyone feeling tonight?” Graham said, greeting all of you on the couch.

It was the director, yourself, and a few of your castmates. In your small break from acting, you found yourself valuing comfort over fashion more and more and so you sit dressed in a comfortable lose fit dress. It’s still designer and very expensive, but you’ve paired it with a sensible pair of black wedge heels and simple jewelry from your own personal collection.

The rest of the couch gives their answers first before Graham looks to you, “I’m really good, thanks.” You say.

To you, it seems like a generic answer and in fact, if it was anyone other than you, Graham would move on, but he gets a sly playful smile on his face and you just know what he’s going to do.

“Really good?” Graham repeats, “That wouldn’t have to do with who’s here tonight with you, would it?”

You blush under the teasing gazes of your castmates and Graham.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.” You say unconvincingly.

He grins and then gestures his hand to behind him, pointing at a random wall of the set, “Are you sure? Because I could have sworn there was someone waiting for you back in the green room.”

You smile and shake your head, you just knew Graham was going to pull something like this. How could he not? It was the leading story of gossip sites, twitter, and tumblr for days on end when the news broke.

“Oh, do you mean my boyfriend?” A cheshire-like grin grows on your face and your face burns even more when the studio audience cheers at your last word.

Graham nods, loving the applause and cheers, “Didn’t you meet him on set?”

Before you can answer, your director/friend decides to pipe in, “I hired him to work on set and then I come to find out he’s actually slacking off with her!” He jokes, pointing your way.

You scoff with a smile on your face, “Oh please, you played matchmaker all the time!” Your castmates nod in agreement.

What Graham has decided to bring up is your newly public relationship which bloomed when you were filming on set for the movie. Because of the large historical and archaeological background of many of the characters and how it caters to the main plot of the movie, several consultants were hired to bring some validity and realism.

One of those was Dr. Spencer Reid, a professor on a short sabbatical from teaching archaeology. His job was to consult on the actions of the characters and help teach some of the actors and actresses who’s characters have a background in archaeology some tips and how to be more natural in the motions.

Your character has a large archaeological background and had the most scenes where you were seemingly handling fossils or excavating them.

That’s how you met Spencer and after spending months together, working together, seeing each other every single day on location, crushes on both sides formed.

“Guilty!” Your director exclaimed, holding his hands up as if he was caught.

The room laughs again. “But you admit you were distracting him from his job?” Graham prods, playfully.

You shrug, a smirk on your face, “You could say he was distracting me from mine.” You counter.

“Okay, okay.” Graham says, jokingly backing down.

He moves onto your other classmates with fun anecdotes about them for most of the rest of the interview. But then, as the interview goes to close out and nothing too eventful has happened, you knew he was saving that Graham Norton mischief just for you.

“Circling back,” Graham says, making direct eye contact with you.

You groan in fake annoyance, a knowing smile on your lips.

“Oh come on,” Graham replies with a chuckle, “You didn’t think I was going to let you off that easily, did you?”

Shaking your head, you wait for Graham to go on.

“Well, I thought that we shouldn’t waste this opportunity, so I asked your dear boyfriend to join us during the break.”

He turns to the camera, “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s make some room on the couch for Spencer Reid!”

You can’t help but correct him, “Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Dr. Spencer Reid!” He remedies.

With this cue, your cute professor boyfriend walks out on the stage. He’s squinting because of the bright lights and even brings up a hand to block some of the blinding studio spotlights.

He isn’t wearing anything too fancy, though he would argue that he was wearing his good slacks and a new button up. To be honest, any clothes that didn’t have any dirt or various sediment on it was good enough for you.

Spencer’s eyes, framed by his glasses, quickly find you on the couch and you’ve already scooted down to make some room for him. His hands hang awkwardly by his side and you know he’s fighting the urge to wipe his sweaty, anxious palms on his pants.

When he reaches you on the couch, you guide him down with your hands taking his. You also give his hands a small squeeze of assurance and comfort.

Frankly, you’re not sure why he’s agreed to such a situation in the first place.

Spencer didn’t naturally get nervous by famous people like you thought he did when you first met him. In that particular situation, Spencer was really just nervous because his massive crush on you was growing each and every day. If only he knew it was the same for you.

Spencer, however, did get nervous in situations with lots of people or when the attention would primarily be on him. This made being a professor as a first career quite confusing for you to wrap your head around, but Spencer relaxed a lot when he was talking about something he’s passionate about.

“So, Dr. Reid-”

Spencer interrupts Graham, “Please, just call me Spencer.”

Graham smiles at him, “Alright,” He continues on, “So, Spencer, have the two of you realized how viral you’ve gone?” He asks first.

You and Spencer exchange a look.

How could you have not realized? When you had accidentally leaked your relationship on an actress-friend’s podcast, you first panicked. But was assured by your friend that it could be edited out if wanted. After a long discussion between you and Spencer, you decided it was time to soft-launch your relationship and was prepared for the news to break.

What you didn’t expect was how the world freaked out. You knew a few sites would report on the announcement, after all, you were a well known actress who’s fans were often loyal and you hadn’t been in a serious or noteworthy relationship in a while.

A few days after you went public, edits were being made of your boyfriend’s interviews, people not even in the major were signing up for his upcoming classes, and the world fell in love with him as did you. You two were proclaimed the new ‘it’ couple and the flame was fanned with pictures you two shared to your social medias.

You had once asked Spencer if it was bothering him that he was getting so much attention, but he answered with a peck on your temple, then nose, then lips and a sweet phrase on how the only attention that mattered to him was yours.

He remedied with a followup to say he also hopes his students pay attention to him. At which you laughed and kissed him back.

“No, at least, not at first,” Spencer answers honestly, “It has calmed down from that initial wave and we’ve learned to deal with it for the most part.”

You look at him by his profile and smile, proud of him. He has done interviews, but none with the main focus being your relationship.

“And how would you say did your relationship progress off set and when filming wrapped?”

“Well, it was a lot less sand.” Spencer jokes, making the crowd laugh. “That and we grew to know each other beyond our jobs. There’s more to both of us than our occupations and that was an important step in dating for us.”

“No sand certainly is a bonus.” Graham confirms, gaining a laugh as well.

“Now, Spencer, you’re a professor in archaeology?”

With the short remainder of the interview, Spencer’s anxiousness and tense body language melts as he gets to talk about what he knows best. The audience, and Graham, love him and eat up his responses. You already know your castmates love him as well judging by the way when they extend an invite out to you, they ask you to bring Spencer if he’s available.

Although you’re rather proud of your boyfriend being so comfortable in the spotlight, you do ask out of curiosity how he was able to overcome his anxiousness later that night after you had gone back to your shared hotel room to unwind for the night.

With you leaning against his frame, both propped up in a sitting position in the bed, he would simply smile down on you and ask if you didn’t remember.

He’s able to relax when he talks about something he’s passionate about.

When you ask him what he means, Spencer simply presses a quick kiss to the top of your head and answer.

“You, of course.”

a/n: i didn't mean for this one to be so long but i got carried away... i can definitely see myself writing more about this pairing because i think so much can be expanded upon it. i also really like the style i did this one as writing domestic fluff or meet cutes over and over can be a little draining, especially doing it everyday

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