#it's easy to find me and look at my trophies
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Everything I Wanted II.
LESTAPPEN X READER (PART 2)
Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.
Word count: 8.9k
Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read
Relationships: Lestappen x Reader
Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader
Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader
Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is very angsty and none of it is an attack at the drivers nor their fans and personalities, please.
I know I KNOW, this got out of hand, AGAIN. I promise next part (and hopefully last) is more focused on the romance, and the happy ending reader deserves.
Find me on Twitter!
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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You spent Christmas with your mom, sharing a lot of presents and watching a bunch of stupid Christmas movies. New Year’s was now a tradition to spend with the Raikkonen Family, joined with the closest friends for a little get together. It was a good opportunity to reconnect with Kimi’s kids who missed you a lot during the season.
Charles never contacted you during winter break, which you were sure was the best after that mistake. You hated each other too much and the only thing that could come out of that was toxicity from the both of you. You refused to even acknowledge what had happened and its implications, that wouldn’t and couldn’t mean anything.
During the pre-season testing in Bahrain, you and Charles were back to whatever your relationship was before that one lapse in judgment months before.
Nobody noticed anything.
One day, Fernando pulled you aside for a little chat. You two sat side by side on big moving boxes, sipping on energy drinks.
“There’s something I have been wanting to talk to you about since last year,” he started, seemingly pensive, distant.
“Is everything ok?”
“Yeah, yeah. Remember after we first met when you asked me if I had advice for you regarding your career?” Fernando said, and you remembered.
Right after you had gotten close, you asked him for advice, you always did, especially about racing. But one day, you were chatting about his career, and you asked if had any lessons you should never forget. He had laughed joking about read all your contracts then asking if you were calling him old, but he said if he ever had any advice, he would tell you.
“Yes, have you got my answer yet?”
“Sí, Nena,” he paused, looking deep into your eyes, “enjoy.”
You frowned and he saw the confusion on your face.
“I see much of my younger self in you, you know? The same passion, this fiery desire to win, your goal for the championship, to conquer the world…” Fernando paused, looking up to the clear sky, the sunset coming around, “And I did. But I wish I had enjoyed it more. I should’ve gone to parties, I should’ve visited the countries we went to and tried the food, I should’ve made more friends, I should’ve had more lovers… I was so focused on winning, on getting my hands on that trophy of champion of the world, that I missed out on a lot.”
You felt your eyes tear up, and you wiped it before the tears came down. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you smiled at him.
“It’s such an honor race with you. And an even greater honor to have you as a friend, Nano” you whispered to him, you two laughed as his eyes watered too, and slapping his shoulder you laughed, “don’t make me cry, you old softie!”
You took his advice to your heart.
You went to the parties, you met new people, and that’s how after two entire seasons, you managed to befriend Lando, your teammate. You two had to open your hearts a little bit and meet in the middle. Which proved to be great, the whole team loved the change in your dynamic. You still weren’t besties, but you were close colleagues, and that was great. Everyone noticed the change and it reflected on how you started racing as a team instead of individually.
The car was even better than the year before, and the first race of the season you got a promising win.
That win, Lando’s pestering, and Fernando’s advice was how you ended up in a party after the Bahrain GP. Wearing a skimpy mini dress and 5 tequila shots deep, swaying your hips to the sound of Rihanna. You were dancing and singing with Lando and a few of his friends, loudly screaming the lyrics.
When it was way too hot for you, you grabbed a water bottle and beelined your way out of the crowded dance floor. You found a corner of the VIP section where the AC seemed to be working better, and as you stumbled inside the small space, you ran chest first into someone.
“Sorry,” you said, taking a step back and pressing your back against the cold wall.
“Enjoying your win?” Your head snapped up as you recognised Max’s voice. You had run into him.
Lando had mentioned inviting Max to the party, he had gotten a P2 in the race but you doubted he would go to a party he knew you would attend. You were obviously wrong.
“You know I am,” the victory was so good that nothing could ruin your mood.
“Well, then enjoy it. I’m coming for the win, again.” He warned you but his voice was devoid of anything, just sounded like he was casually telling you about the weather. But you knew that he was implying his championship the year before, rubbing it in your face.
“Don’t be so confident, Max,” you finished your water, smirking at him, “Enjoy the view of my rear!”
You flipped your hair, feeling his eyes on you the whole walk back to the dance floor.
And yet-
Somehow-
You ended up back at that small corner, dancing with your body pressed between Verstappen’s and the wall, his hand holding your jaw firmly, you rolled your hips against him, feeling the way his body responded to yours.
“We can’t-” he said to you, still, his eyes hadn’t left your lips, like he was so oh so tempted.
You rolled your eyes, annoyed. Sober you would never do that, but then, that was a problem for later. Checking to see if anyone was looking at you, you hooked a finger around his waistband and pulled him towards the bathroom.
As soon as the two of you were inside, you locked the door and Max pressed your back against the door, latching his lips to yours in a very desperate open mouthed kiss. You hugged his shoulders, opening your lips to him, his hands went down your sides and he grabbed your ass, pulling you into him. But that wasn’t enough, so he held your thighs and pulled up, carrying you. You locked your legs around his waist, and he stopped the kiss to walk, sitting you on the marble side of the sink, still between your legs, forcing his bulge against your panties, and eliciting a moan from you.
He took a half step back to hike your dress up, palming your cunt over your panties feeling the dampness of it, he tried to press his hand under your panties, but the lacy fabric didn’t leave much space, so he simply tore the bottom of them, exposing you to him. He just ran a finger over your slit, collecting your wetness for a brief moment before pushing a finger into you. Max watched your face with concentration, studying your body’s responses. Your hips shaking at the movement of his finger, and when the second one joined, you got louder. He curled his fingers up, his thumb pressing your clit, and you had to use both hands to hold onto him, your head lolling back against the mirror.
“Take it and shut the fuck up,” he grunted between clenched teeth.
He was pressing your insides so good, the slick sound of his fingers going in and out, his heavy breathing, the loud music outside and his laser focused fingers had you coming against his fingers in minutes. When he noticed you close, cunt spasming against his fingers, he pressed the other hand against your mouth, covering your moans when your toes curled and you orgasmed on his hand.
Max barely let you recover as he opened his jeans and stroked himself twice before pushing his cock into you in one swift move, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.
“That’s what you wanted, right? Fucking teasing me all night,” He pushed particularly hard, hitting your g-spot, making you see stars, “you’re a fucking menace, y’know that? Fucking insufferable,” then his words became a mumbling of something dutch you couldn’t quite catch anymore with the way his hips snapped against yours, taking all your focus away and turning you into a mess of moaning.
Max fucked like he raced, focused and relentless, brutal. He hugged you with one arm around your waist to keep you in place and the other held you face, tilting your head so he could kiss you, or whatever that mess of saliva, tongues and teeth was. Your orgasm crashed through you unexpectedly, and you only hugged him tighter, pressing your face against his chest, biting into his skin through the fabric of his T-shirt to silence yourself, your teeth sinking into him was enough to send him also over the edge, coming with moans against your ear.
That night, you went home with shaking legs and an incoming headache, as Max left with the scraps of your panties in his pocket and your lipstick stain on his shirt, above his chest.
It was the seventh race of the year, Monaco, and you absolutely hated that specific track since your years of F2. During your two first years in F1 you had awful experiences, the rookie year you DNF and the year prior you had barely managed a P7. You were trying to keep your head up, be hopeful that you could at least try for top 5.
But since you couldn’t catch a fucking break, an old video of your teenage years resurfaced.
You were walking to your first round of interviews when Amanda, your PR manager, started walking by your side.
“There’s something. An old video of a karting competition resurfaced, where Max and Charles pretty much call you stupid,” Amanda was always direct, you could give it to her.
“Let me see the video” you asked, offering your hand for her phone.
“We don’t have time, but everyone will ask you about it. I need you to be the bigger person and act like it isn’t important, yes? They will try to taunt you and get a bad reaction from you, I need you to dismiss everything they throw at you. Agreed?”
You sighed. You knew the stuff from your teens were pretty bad, you rarely badmouthed Max or Charles, but they always felt threatened by you, so there were lots of instances they attacked you. Honestly, you just didn’t want to come out of this victimized. So as you entered the first round of interviews, you decided you were going to downplay anything they asked you.
“Y/N, have you seen the footage of you, Max and Charles from your teenage years that resurfaced recently?”
“No, uh, I haven’t.”
Someone pushed an iPad in your hands because of course, they wanted a live reaction from you. You pressed play, reading the subtitles someone put on the video. It was an amateur recording like a post race interview made by another teenage guy. First as Max walked out of the track, the guy asked what he thought of your win.
“It was luck, she’s not bright enough to think of a strategy,” Max said, walking away, clearly pissed having lost to you.
There was a cut and the camera was turned on again when Charles walked toward the guy asking the question. He repeated exactly the same question he had asked Max.
“Y/N, I don’t worry about her long term. She’s not going very far in this sport anyway,” Charles shrugged, seemingly unbothered.
As the video cut again, it showed your face, you remembered when that was. You were 14, and your dad had dropped you a few months earlier, so you were working your ass off balancing school, work and karting.
“Hey, Y/N. What do you think of your result today?”
“Uh, I tried a new strategy I learned earlier this week, thankfully it worked in my favor,” teen-You dried your forehead with your coat’s sleeve.
“What are your plans for this competition?”
“Well, I hope to be good enough to get into F4 next year, and work my way up into Formula 1,” you smiled softly and walked away after a quick bye.
The video ended and you still spent a few seconds staring at the black screen of the iPad. This interview didn’t come to your mind in more than a decade, but it was nice seeing how you made your 14-year-old dream come true.
“So, what do you say?” The reporter extended his mic to you.
“I guess I proved them wrong, right?” You giggled a little, “don’t take it to heart, really. We were all hormonal teenagers, I’m sure if someone digs, they will find a video of me saying the same stuff about them,” you shrugged, despite that being a lie, sounded dismissive enough.
“So it doesn’t upset you?” The reporter insisted, and you knew he wanted a scandal you weren’t willing to give.
“Of course not. I’ve always known my worth, and I’m P1 in the driver’s championship as of right now. So I don’t really care.”
The interviewers soon let the video go, when they realized you didn’t care about it. You weren’t sure if anyone would also approach Charles or Max with questions about the same video, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to avoid drama for the time being so you could focus on the championship instead of this bullshit.
On the morning of qualifying, you were in your room, trying to meditate and clear your mind, when a knock interrupted you.
“Guys, I asked for twenty minutes so I could-” you stop yourself when you realize it isn’t anyone from your team, but it’s Max and Charles, “what are you doing here?”
“We came to apologize about the video,” Max started.
“Did your PR teams send you here?” You looked around, trying to catch a camera or even a phone recording.
“No uh, we realized we were very immature with you, and this video is just proof of how silly that was,” Charles sighed, seemingly embarrassed.
“You don’t need to apologize, I mean- the two of you really had it out for me, you called me dumb a lot,” you pointed to Max, then Charles, “and you called me ugly countless times. I don’t know why it would make any difference now.”
You were just so used to being defensive, to protect yourself from hatred you found it hard to believe them, to give them a chance to apologize because you couldn’t believe it to be genuine.
“Even if you don’t take it, or believe it, I would like to apologize for that behavior. I was just a stupid kid.” Max looked deep into your eyes, which could’ve made you uncomfortable if he didn’t seem so honest.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N. It was too idiotic to be like that to you, growing up. You were just a kid too.” Charles added.
You understood where that apology came from, it was stupid and embarrassing for all three of you this teenage rivalry when you all were barely mid racers back in the day. Sighing, you looked around, dropping your façade for a second, allowing yourself to display the same honesty they showed you.
It was hard and required some sort of deprogramming because you could only see them as rivals, like your dad had whispered in your brain so many times before, like their actions towards you had cemented dad’s words. They had said things that were on your mind for so long, that had made you defensive and deflective.
“Look, don’t worry about it. Whatever happened back then, it’s water under the bridge,” You shifted on your feet. As they started walking away, you added “this doesn’t mean we’re friends.”
They only nodded before leaving. Your routine went back to the same, and as the next scandal went on, people forgot about the silly video, but a very specific part of the fans started shipping you and both your rivals.
The rivalry never died down though.
Then, out of nowhere, Sebastian pulled you and Lewis aside to a conversation. Then he told you that he was going to retire by the end of the season. It was the first time the two of them saw you cry, and Sebastian hugged you tight, shushing your crying softly.
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, petting your head.
“No, don’t apologize,” you let him go, drying your face, “I have listened to you talking countless times about how you missed the kids. Don’t apologize for choosing to be a great dad. I know Hanna and the kiddos will be ecstatic.”
“You two are my closest friends here, that’s why I wanted to tell you first, before my announcement.”
“Thank you, Seb,” you said, eyes still watering, “I’m going to miss having you around.”
“Thank you for telling us beforehand,” Lewis said, also visibly emotional.
The season was writing itself to be just as close as the year prior, but now you were slightly better at keeping the lead most.
That is until Zandvoort. This GP was always a nightmare to you, because it was full of Max’s fans, and they absolutely hated you for being his rival. You had been booed when you were on the podium the year before, so now, you and Amanda decided it was best to keep your head down during the whole week. Not out of shame, but more of a matter of safety, you didn’t know how far the crowd could go in antagonizing you. When you were booed the other year, Max had said it was part of the sport and dismissed the conversation.
The morning of free practice, you went into the paddock very low-key and kept to yourself. You arrived with a little cup of coffee and got mentally ready for a hostile environment the whole weekend. That, until you spotted a small group of people dressed with your color and wearing your number, waving wildly to you.
In a spur of the moment decision, you went there, getting close to the barrier to sign a few caps and take a few selfies. In retrospect, you knew you shouldn’t have done that, especially with only two bodyguards accompanying you.
You were finishing chatting with your fans when you felt something heavy hit the side of your head and the impact made you stumble backwards, you were confused as you heard the screams and felt one of the bodyguards pull you back, as the other jumped the barrier and started running. You patted your temple and something wet and sticky was dripping down the side of your face. You stared at the small group of fans who were looking at you horrified. Staring at the hand, you saw the red staining your fingers, and as the bodyguard kept pulling you away to somewhere safer, the thing flowed even more and got into your left eye.
You wondered if it was blood as you touched your temple but felt nothing, not a gash nor small cut. You covered your left eye as it started to sting from what you supposed smelt like paint.
“Hey, hey, what happened? You’re bleeding!” Max jogged up to you.
“Not blood, just paint” you muttered, trying to use your coat to clean your face.
“Someone threw a paint ball at her,” the bodyguard said.
“Fuck, it’s burning!” You exclaimed, feeling tears in your left eye.
“Come here, the RB hospitality is close,” Max said, holding your wrist, he stopped shortly pointing to your bodyguard, “and you, sort this and find the person who did it.”
You let yourself be taken by Max into the RB territory, the burning so annoying that you rather take whatever solution he was thinking of. He held your waist and placed you sitting on a sink, and then you felt water streaming down your face.
“Stay still,” Max commanded, holding a hose over your head, pouring water down your face, “now blink slowly, let the water wash it,” his voice soft as you did what he told you to. Slowly but surely, it washed the paint away, relieving your left eye from the stinging. Max held the hose up and held your chin, tilting your head up so he could check your eye, still letting the water stream down your face.
You took a few minutes, breathing and regulating your heartbeat from that scare, trying to come back to normal and understand fully what was going on. From what you gathered, you were chatting with fans when someone else came and threw something with paint at you.
“How does it feel?”
“It’s better, already stopped burning,” you told him, feeling your heart miss a beat at the close proximity you found yourself to him. You were sitting on a sink, Max standing between your legs pretty much like you two had done months before for entirely different reasons.
“Open your eye, let me see,” he asked, and you tried to blink it open, “can you see?”
“It’s a little blurry but I believe it will get better,” you explained, and he didn’t let go of your chin. Suddenly, he covered your right eye with the other hand, leaving you only with your left eye sight.
“How many fingers am I putting up?” He showed it to your left eye. The vision was a bit blurry but you still could make out the shapes very clearly.
“Four, Max. It’s just a little bit blurry, probably will get better in a few minutes” you sounded annoyed, you tried to move but he pressed a hand against your waist, keeping you in place.
“Now, what happened?” He asked finally. You ignored the proximity, and the hand still on your body.
“We’re in Zandvoort, that’s what happened,” you shrugged, really annoyed about it.
“What do you mean?” He was visibly confused. You scoffed because you knew it wasn’t something he didn’t know, since the year before he has dismissed the importance of how hostile people were to you.
“We’re massively surrounded by your fans, Max.”
“I don’t understand.”
“They hate me because you hate me, and they think because you hate me they’re justified in their hostility towards me,” You explained, with a sigh, you pushed away from Max, “this GP has been like this for me ever since Rookie year.”
“I don’t hate you,” he said, brows furrowed.
“You do. And they do too,” you pointed down at the paint that had also stained your shirt as proof.
“I don’t,” he insisted and you rolled your eyes, jumping off the sink, but he didn’t give you space, which made you stand chest to chest with him, “I promise.”
You stared at him, breathless. That wasn’t part of the game you played, being kind, sounding worried and making promises. None of that was part of this whole rivalry. Pushing his chest, you tried getting away but he caged you against the sink, body flush against yours.
“Do you believe me?” He asked and your eyes fell to his lips, and you allowed yourself to remember the desperate and chaotic kisses you had shared in a dimly lit bathroom, “I don’t support any of this behavior.”
You heard voices and steps approaching, which made you finally push him away, walking towards the door. Whatever little magic had been happening between those walls was undone the moment you remembered none of that would’ve happened if he had politely put a stop to it earlier.
“It’s part of the sport and I have to deal with it, right?” You returned the very same words he had said about you when you were booed by the crowd the year prior.
As you opened the door, you were faced with Sebastian. He stopped, taking you in and then pulling you in a hug.
“Are you ok? We just heard what happened!” He murmured, guiding you out of the bathroom. He held your shoulders and looked at your face, checking how your left eye was still a little red, “we should take you to see a doctor, come on.”
Lewis soon arrived at the entrance of the RBR station, he warned about the reporters crowding outside, waiting for a glimpse of you after the attack. The British man gave you a Mercedes coat so you put it over your head and avoid the cameras waiting outside. With the bodyguards and both Lewis and Sebastian leading you away, you ended up at the medical center, and after a quick examination, the doctor gave you eye drops to put throughout the day.
Your Principal suggested you sit the FP1 out, letting the reserve driver take your place while you recovered. By the middle of FP1, your eyesight was 100% and you went to get ready for FP2. The whole day you felt like everyone was being extra careful, tiptoeing around you. You hated feeling like you were being pitied, so when the inevitable round of interviews came, you knew what you had to do.
“We heard about your incident earlier today, how are you feeling about it?” Someone asked.
“I’m pretty upset, to be honest. Formula 1 is a sport loved around the whole world, and the paddock overall is supposed to be a safe place not only for the fans, but also the workers and drivers. What happened today is unacceptable and could’ve been much worse. I’m voicing my dissatisfaction and I intend to, through legal means, take this complaint to the FIA.”
Later that night, as you laid awake on your bed, scrolling through the repercussions of the day, you stopped when you saw a snippet of Max's interview.
“What happened today was dangerous and unacceptable, I don’t support this behavior and I stand with Y/N,” that was all he said, but Max usually was a man of few words, always knowing when it was enough.
You knew he should’ve voiced that much earlier in your career, specifically after the booing the year before, but still- He also could have opted to not say anything at all, and he didn’t.
Amanda also sent you the news that the fan who had attacked you was found and banned for life from Formula 1.
After calling Sebastian, you managed to get ahold of Max’s phone number and texted him a simple message.
Thank you. Twice. - Lioness
The text went to read almost immediately, and the three dots appeared from his side of the screen. You wait, and wait, and wait. And then the dots disappeared, and an answer never came.
After a solid P2 that weekend in Zandvoort, you went home for the summer break. You and your mom had planned to go to Monaco for a little while since you were planning on buying a place there. From there, you and your mom would go all around the French Riviera to enjoy the sea and spend a few days in a spa resort. Then, you would go back home and relax before going to Ibiza for a weekend to meet Lando and his friends to enjoy some partying.
Everything went according to plan, but one day when you came back home after the trip to the French Riviera, you found your mom passed out on the living room floor.
You called an ambulance, quickly taking her into the hospital. Everything was a blur, the tests and scans, your mom still unconscious on a hospital bed, and the results. The results that pulled the floor from under your feet.
Your brain couldn’t fully compute what was said. Cancer Stage 4. Surgery. Palliative care.
The world was muted around you as you sat on a chair in the waiting room, hands shaking when you tried to understand what was happening. You somehow ended up calling the one other person you trust.
“Y/N? What happened?”
“I don’t understand- she just- she just passed out and I thought- but- but they said- palliative care” you try to come up with words.
“Talk to me. Are you sick?” Kimi’s voice is so focused and a little soothing.
“It’s mom”
“Send your location, I’m going there,” that’s all he said.
Waiting for Kimi gave you some sense of purpose, because it’s Kimi. He could fix anything. He fixed your life when you were 14, he can do it again. He would get there and find a way to help. Your mind got so clouded when the word cancer was thrown in the conversation, that you probably missed the part about treatments and- and surgery and stuff.
In your mother’s room there was a comfortable couch where you tried to settle to sleep, but you only spent countless hours awake. You hoped to see the doctor again to try and get him to explain everything for a second time.
You wished you were smart and quick, but no, you just sat there holding onto the hope that Kimi had a way to fix this.
Kimi arrived early the next morning, knocking on the door before entering. You stood up, hugging him tight.
“What happened?”
“It’s pancreatic cancer, they said. We need to see more about surgery and- and treatments.”
You and Kimi found the doctor, who explained again, and in that moment you finally understood what he meant the first time around. She was in a late stage of pancreatic cancer, which was usually a very difficult illness to find before it is too late, due to the placement of the organ in the body and late symptoms. The only options were either to try a very risky surgery and chemo so she could extend her life for around 8 months to a year. Or she could go home to live her last few months the way she wanted.
You begged and cried and bribed and offered every single solution your brain could muster to try and save her. Kimi held you when you fell to the floor, sobbing.
When your mom woke up and you and Kimi told her the diagnosis, she cried too, sobbing in your arms as you tried to hold it together for her sake. It took a couple of days for her to choose to go home. The two of you spent the last days of summer break traveling around the world a bit more, visiting temples and statues, and seeing nature and everything good the world had to offer, going to places motorsport hadn’t taken you to.
Your mom went to every race week from there on, even when she felt especially weak, even when you had to hire a full time medical team for her.
Your focus on the season was solely on the moment between entering the car and leaving the car. You still managed to race like you’ve done before, calm and controlled, with the help of your engineers and team, you still could put the car where you wanted it, paving your way for a solid world championship that year. It was like your brain was seeing racing as the one thing in your life you had full control over, so sometimes you even felt like you and the car were one.
You didn’t tell anyone about her. Though every driver noticed how distant you were, even Charles and Max and the ones that weren’t very close to you noticed how you were only fulfilling your obligations and leaving, you weren’t even celebrating your wins, leaving the fastest you could after a race.
The Singapore GP was tough for you, having to leave your mom home alone with the medical staff and a couple of friends from her book club, since she wasn’t strong enough to travel anymore. Your attention was failing all throughout media day and free practices. Qualifying was shit compared to your performance the rest of the season.
In Q3 you did a reasonable sector 1 and 2 but you messed up sector 3 completely. It was a complete accident when you got in the way of a Ferrari when he was doing his fast lap, and you ended up messing his qualy too. Jace let you know it was none other than Charles Leclerc, who was setting the pace for a pole position. Out of 19 drivers, you had to ruin his lap. In the end, Max got pole, Charles qualified P3 and you qualified P5.
You went through the motions during the post qualifying press. You were about to leave after debriefing, when Charles Leclerc found you on the way to the parking lot. You pulled your coat tighter around yourself protectively as he walked up to you. You were hoping to escape his fury at least until after the race the next day. Before he could even get a word in, you started.
“Look, I know I messed up your pole. I know you won’t believe me, but it wasn’t intentional. I really thought there was no one doing fast laps on the track, I thought everyone was either still doing out laps or in the pits, so when you-”
“Calm down, breathe,” he interrupted you, “I’m not here to fight.”
“No?” You frowned, confused with the kindness in his eyes.
“We know you’re going through something, and I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear this from, but you’re not alone. And you should really consider talking with someone on the grid. They’re all- we’re all worried about you.”
The words felt alien coming from his mouth, but the gentleness was so comforting you felt a lump in your throat.
“Why do you think I’m not ok?” You muttered trying to sound confident, but your voice failed, betraying you.
“You’re skinny and you look sleep deprived for a few weeks now,” Charles said directly.
“Damn, thanks.”
“I don’t mean it like that, you know it,” he paused, putting both hands on his pockets, “have you been eating?” Your lack of response made him press further, “have you eaten today?”
You pressed your lips together, not wanting to answer that.
“Let’s go, I’ll drive you to the hotel, we’ll stop on the way to grab some food,” Charles gestured to his car, a few meters away. You stood there, shocked as he started walking away, then he stopped looking over his shoulder, “come on, I don’t have all the time in the world.”
As you sat in his Ferrari, Charles put music on and you didn’t do much talking, but it was tranquil. He called the restaurant to order take out on the way, and 30 minutes later he dropped you off at the hotel with a bag full of food.
“Thank you, Charles.” You whispered before leaving the car.
You ate the food while on a video call with your mom.
You recovered well during the race, finishing P2, behind Max and ahead of Charles.
Your mom passed away a few days after the Japanese Grand Prix, the one you had won and dedicated it to her from the top step of the podium, even if she wasn’t there, just watching from home. You went home and stayed with her, holding her hands and hugging her as much as you could.
Some part of you knew she was somehow fighting, because she had promised you the year before she would be there when you became world champion. You could see she was hoping to make it to the end of the season, but you also knew she wouldn’t, and you rather she didn’t have to endure any more pain just for your sake.
“You don’t need to fight anymore, ma,” you whispered before she went to sleep, “you raised a strong woman, too. I will see you on the other side, ok? You can rest now, I love you.”
“I’m so proud of you, honey. I love you to the moon and back.”
You made it through her small funeral, following what she had written down before passing. An intimate funeral, full of flowers and a toast to her life. You cried the whole time, with Kimi and Minttu taking turns at comforting you as they could. Coming back to an empty home smelling of cleaning products made you almost lose your mind, and the sight of you in such despair was enough for Kimi to convince you to stay with them until you had to travel for the next race, in almost seven days.
The days passed in a crying blur, you let part of your team know about your mom’s passing. Only Amanda, Jace and your Principal. Jace tried to convince you to take a break and not go to the next race in Austin, but you quickly shut it off. Not only because racing was the one thing keeping you sane amidst the chaos, but because you were so close to the championship, and it was still close competition with Max and Charles, so you couldn’t afford to lose a race and the points that could come with it.
You had to honor your mom in some way.
That’s how you ended up on a plane to Austin with Kimi and Amanda. You knew Kimi had convinced you to let him go because he was sure you’d have a mental breakdown anytime along the weekend, but deep down you appreciated the company. Arriving there, Jace was the first to hug you and whisper his condolences, as well as your TP too.
You survived the entire weekend without breaking down crying in public, but that was your worst race in a few months, the first time out of a podium since Spa. You ended up P5, which luckily wasn’t too bad because Max finished P4 which you were grateful for as he was the one who was P2 in the driver’s championship close behind you.
After that week, you packed your stuff and moved to the new condo in Monaco you had bought during summer break. Despite loving your mom to pieces, you couldn’t manage to live alone in the house you bought for her a couple of years before, it was lonely and it hit you with overwhelming waves of sadness all the time. You distracted yourself a lot with buying furniture and decorations for the new place, and discovering Monte Carlo in a whole new way. The one comfort in all that, was knowing your mom wasn’t suffering anymore.
Then you went straight to Mexico for the next Grand Prix, this time, Kimi left you because he had to come home to Minttu and the kids. Amanda had been such a support for you, that you knew you had to give her something special for the holidays, out of gratitude.
Everything was going as expected until the press conference. You were there with Charles, Max, Sebastian and Lando. You suspected they were putting you always in the same group as Max and Charles because, as the season nearing the end, only three races left, they were your close competition.
While someone asked something of Charles, you were whispering with Sebastian, chatting about Mexican foods you wanted to try after the race. Then, something bizarre happened, and phones started to ping all around the room, between reporters, cameras and everyone else started checking their phones. It seemed like something out of a black mirror nightmare.
You reached for your phone but then remembered you left it to charge in your room.
“This question is for Y/N,” a reporter asked, reading something from his phone, “there’s a new article that just came out saying your mom passed away a couple of weeks ago, is that true?”
Your blood ran cold, and every sound felt like it was muted inside the room. Wide eyed, you searched for Amanda, who was somewhere on the opposite side of the room, and when you found her, she was pale. Then, there was a cacophony of voices and cameras and questions, that made you suddenly overwhelmed.
Swallowing, trying to reassess, you found Sebastian already standing, holding your shoulders. Looking around you noticed how the other three drivers had stood up, making some sort of shield around you, protecting you from the cameras and reporters swarming around.
“We can go, ok? Come on,” Sebastian was saying when Amanda caught up to you, leaning beside Sebastian.
“We can leave, right now,” she said, holding your hand.
Still a little confused, you nodded and let them both guide you back to your room.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Sebastian hugged you, running his hands on your back for comfort.
“How- how did they find out?” You ask Amanda.
“An article came out, I’m not sure. Someone was probably digging into your life, but don’t worry, I put the team on it already.”
“How do- how we diffuse this? How do we proceed? We need to address this, right?” You started blabbering, trying to wrap your head around everything.
“That was very disrespectful of them to ask like that!” Sebastian exclaimed, making you two jolt.
“We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Do you want me to release a note asking for privacy?” Amanda suggested.
“Can I write something and then run it by you?” You asked, she only nodded.
After a moment, both Amanda and Seb left you alone as you typed a note on your phone. You rewrote and deleted a few times before settling on something heartfelt and respectful but also, calling out the invasion of privacy.
My mom passed away a few days ago after battling with cancer for the past few months.
She had requested of me to keep it a secret until after the season was over, so I could mourn her without the weight of racing over my shoulders.
But obviously someone went digging and disrespected not only one of her last wishes but also disrespected my grief and my right to privacy. I love my mom but I’ll not be answering any more questions about her illness or death, please respect me and respect her memory.
All the love, Y/N
Nobody asked anything over the weekend, but again, it felt like everyone was tiptoeing around you. As soon as you first saw Nano the next day, he held you tight for almost a minute whispering his condolences, and it made you almost cry again. Lewis also spared you a hug, saying if you ever needed anything, to contact him.
You survived that weekend, and decided to go straight to Brazil for the next GP instead of going back to Monaco. In São Paulo you mostly slept your worries and fears away. You had promised yourself to try and focus on the season only, to make your dream come true, to fulfill your mom’s promise in some way.
With Ferrari’s bad strategy in Mexico, they had ruined Charles’ chance at the championship. Now your only competition was Max and the Red Bull rocketship.
You rewatched the race a couple of times as you usually did, to try and catch any mistakes you or your team may have made, to fix it for the next one. But also to try and notice any weaknesses of your rivals, if it was something you could use in your own favor.
You noticed right away in the FP1 that your car wasn’t adhering to the track, you were losing balance and needed more force than usual to keep yourself in place. By FP2, you managed to control your car better, but that caused your tyres to wear off way more quickly.
Quali was one of the shittiest you’ve ever done in your career, taking you out in Q2 for the first time that year, placing you for a start at P12.
“Listen, we’ll do better tomorrow, ok?” Jace told you as soon as you entered the garage, seeing Max still out with a shot at pole position.
“Give me a few minutes to unwind, please,” you asked, dropping your helmet, balaclava and gloves at a nearby table.
You went straight to your room, searching for your phone. Immediately calling Kimi, you waited for him to pick up.
“I watched it,” he said first and foremost.
“If I do bad in the race tomorrow, and Max does well, then I’m gonna lose the championship, Kimi,” saying that out loud made you shiver in horror, “FUCK!” You screamed, kicking a chair.
“First of all, even if you did bad tomorrow, you’d still have a chance to fight for the championship in Abu Dhabi. You know that,” Kimi warned you as if he was scolding a little kid, “second of all, I never taught you this loser mindset. You’ll have to find a way to work around the problems in your car tomorrow.”
“Shit, I’m so fucked! How? How could I even-”
“Remember when I first met you? Your kart was with almost this same problem, yeah? Remember you got P2? You went ahead and fixed it. That’s what I need you to do tomorrow, don’t focus on what you can’t do, only focus on what you can do.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“No trying. Do it.”
After spending the entire night crafting plan A, B, C and Z with you strategists and engineers, you barely got any sleep, but you forced yourself to rest. In the morning, you went to the track early to meet with your team again, to run your strategies one more time, when you had an idea. You’d still follow the plans you had carefully crafted with the team, but you decided to make a Plan Star, as you had called. Interlagos didn’t have any safety car in the last two years, so it was dangerous to fully count on one. But your plan star consisted in the case of a safety car in this one specific window of laps, you’d go to the pits for hards, counting on everyone else being on old softs or mediums at that specific point in the race. But for it to work, you had to be the first of the front field to go in.
As the lights went out and you accelerated, you got already three positions up, landing in P9, and luckily, the points zone. Jace was worried in your ears, talking about the car and the tyres management. With controlled calm and Kimi’s voice in your head, you managed a few more positions in the first 14 laps, landing P7. You lost a bit of time there, since Nando was P6 and everyone knew how tough it always is to overtake him. But you eventually managed to get the position. Unfortunately, it was the moment you had to go to your first pitstop. Due to the problems in your car wearing off your tyres, you would have to go for a two-stop, which ended up costing you three positions again. But you were patient and you were rewarded when the other cars had to pit, which gave you back the four places you had lost.
The race you went on and you barely moved up or down from your P5, but you managed to concentrate.
Jace, on the other hand was sounding more and more worried about your second pit stop, about the difficulty in get closer to P4, about the P6 trying to enter DRS zone behind you, with your tyres wearing off, with the-
“Jace, I love you but please shut the fuck up, I know what to do,” you were praying for a miracle when suddenly, there was a yellow flag, and the safety car went out during the perfect window of laps, “fuck, Jace, this is plan star.”
“Copy,” he paused, his voice sounding secure, “Box, box.”
You changed into hards, no one else went to the pits, and the race restarted after three more laps. The safety car had closed the gap between you and the P4, which made you overtake him easily.
Jace was still keeping quiet to help your concentration, he only interrupted to warn you about overheating your tyres, and your velocity per lap compared to the next position. You started overtaking like a madwoman as much as your tyres allowed.
“That’s P1, Lioness,” Jace told you.
“Copy that.” You said with your voice shaken.
As you managed your P1, you went back to be aware of your surroundings, seeing a Red Bull right behind you, trying to overtake but you managed to hold position.
When you took the checkered flag, you sighed with relief, Kimi was right.
“Congratulations, Y/N! That’s a brilliant, brilliant win!” Jace’s voice was sounding shaken too.
“You’re crying, Jace?” You laughed softly.
“It’s an honor to tell you that you, Y/N Y/L/N, are a Formula 1 world champion!” Jace shouts, and behind him you can hear more people screaming.
“What? Jace you’re fucking with me!”
“No, Lioness, you’re the 2022 champion of the world!”
“But- but how? There’s one race left? And Max was right behind me!”
“No, Verstappen DNFed during that one yellow flag. Behind you was Perez.”
You made the calculations quickly in your head. Max was P2 in the championship, but this DNF meant no points, and even if he managed to win the last race in Abu Dhabi, he wouldn’t be able to equal you in points. So-
“OH MY GOD, oh my god!” You screamed your lungs out, feeling the tears streaming down into your balaclava, “Fuck yes! I’m Formula 1 World Champion! Thank you, thank you so much guys! Jace, holy shit, I’m the champion!”
“You’re the champion!” Jace confirmed.
You felt joy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long, long time, as you stopped your car on the number one spot. Still a little dizzy from the thrill, you left the car, going straight to your team, heavily waiting for you. They all hugged you, hitting your helmet, saying congratulations and everything. You took a moment to hug Jace and Amanda, who had been of great support throughout the year.
After getting weighted and being congratulated by the other two on the podium, Perez and Hamilton, the latter hugging you tight as he took you off the floor, you drank water as you waited for the post race interview with Nico Rosberg.
You were giddy, barely holding yourself together with how happy you were feeling, how you wanted to hold the trophy, how grateful you were and more importantly, how you felt a great weight being lifted off your shoulders.
“Y/N, congratulations on becoming a World Champion! I have to say, as a girl dad, it is great to see you become the first woman ever to win this title. How do you feel? What do you want to say?” Nico offered, with a kind smile.
“To be honest, I can barely contain myself. It’s such an honor to be here and be the world champion. I look at the past and see my younger self who never thought would make it to Formula 1. It’s such a dream come true, after this year’s hardships, I’m glad to achieve the greatest dream of them all!” You said, kinda quickly, rambling as you tried to put into words all the emotions mixed with the happiness, “I’m sorry, I know I’m taking up all your time, I just want to dedicated this win, and this championship to three people who saved my life: Kimi, thank you for being the salvation of my career when we first met; And my mom, who’s not here anymore, thank you for being the light in my darkest days. And lastly, I want to thank myself for working my ass off and never giving up.”
You muttered a thank you as Nico only laughed at your rambling. Before you moved to the cooldown, you grabbed the mic back again.
“May I add one last thing?” You asked for Nico, who only nodded, pointing to the camera again, “This is to my father: I made it, you asshole.”
You wanted to send the middle finger too, but you knew you couldn’t because of the FIA’s guidelines, and you were already risking a penalty for cursing on live TV. In the cooldown room, you sat beside Lewis, watching a few highlights of the race on the screen. It showed a couple of your overtakes.
“Damn, you overtook like crazy,” Lewis muttered, seemingly amazed.
“I pulled a Lewis Hamilton in Interlagos last year,” you joked, and he laughed.
That podium felt like the culmination of everything you had worked for your whole life, felt like recovering your love for the sport for what it was, for the fast cars and the adrenaline. Being on that podium in Brazil as a World Champion shifted something inside you forever. During your anthem, you laughed, and when you got the trophy, you cried, pointing the trophy to the sunny sky with a silent prayer to your mom. You barely noticed, but you felt the champagne raining on you, and opened your arms to shower in it. Putting the trophy down, you splashed the other bottle, laughing and wetting everyone that was close to you, Lewis, Checo, Jace, who had gone up representing the team.
When the celebration ended, you stayed behind a little more, watching the crowd from the podium, and they started chanting. It took you a few seconds to realize they were chanting your name.
You raised your trophy at them, and they cheered even louder. Then you pointed it to the sky again.
“Look, ma, I made it” you whispered to yourself, feeling the tears streaming down your face.
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Dirty Cops
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: With a dirty cop killing women in the BDSM community running loose you and Spencer have to devise an equally dirty plan to catch him in the act.
Warnings: Kintober Day 22 - S&M, BDSM themes, public sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, interrupted sex (both of them are cockblocked by the job).
A/N: I'M BACK! Sorry for the delay. This is the fic that has been beating my ass for about two weeks now. I fear I put too much detail into the case, and now I'm 6k words deep into a part one of a fic that should've been a 3k standalone.... oops! I hope you enjoy~
You sat in your office hands on your forehead as you desperately searched for the solution to your problems. 12 women, 12 homicides that VICAP had just spotted were easily similar. All in the same jurisdiction, and yet no connections made by their police force.
Something was going on in Tampa, and you needed to get to the bottom of it before another person died.
You supposed it didn't really help that some of the women had died in some pretty unorthodox ways. Strangulation, blunt force trauma, evidence of rope burns, and having been held hostage but not for long. Things your team was familiar with, but local detectives usually couldn't stomach.
As the BAU's brand new liaison officer, you got the job of convincing the local law enforcement to invite you in. They certainly weren't making it easy for you.
"Listen, I'm telling you there's something here, sir, if you'd just check the case files. We're only trying to help."
"You're trying to stick your nose in my departments business because you think your fancy FBI agents can handle my cases better than me."
"Sir, with all due respect -"
"Fine, you think you can come find whoever whacked these street whores you come and do it." You took in a sharp breath and paused, trying to make sure if you were hearing him correctly.
"What do you mean by whores, Captain? Choose your words very carefully." The warning was a bonus, knowing your voice had already done such a 180 he was probably regretting his previous word choices. As far as you knew none of the victims were wex workers. They mainly had office jobs or were even stay ah hone mom's.
"Each and every one of these women were jezebel's. Cheating, doing dirty things while showing their faces in church. They attended a certain establishment, not a Christian one, if you understand what I'm telling you, Miss."
"It's Agent, actually, and if you ever leave these details out of a case file ever again, I'll make sure to have your badge pinned up on my wall like a hunting trophy. Are we clear, Captain?" He stuttered out a yes, but you cut him off quickly.
"My team and I will arrive later today. Expect us for lunch." You said, slamming the receiver down and finally releasing a huff of breath you'd been saying for emergencies.
A whistle from the door finally draws your attention after a few minutes.
"Okay, Y/N," JJ clapped, looking impressed. "Who pissed you off?"
"Just the Captain at the precinct who just very politely invited us to consult on our next case." You threw the file in her direction as she set down the coffee she'd bought you, picking it up to peruse it. "Where's Hotch? I need to tell him we've got to go now before they change their minds."
"You know you want to say it," she teased as you began walking out of the office to find your elusive boss.
"Ha. Sure. Wheels up in 30, Jennifer." She raised her coffee in a salute to you as you finally took off, getting ready to go to war against an unhelpful police precinct.
–X–
With all the time you don't have, you end up briefing the team on the jet. You have to stand and grab the edge of the table as you try not to pace up and down the aisle.
"Twelve victims, all women between the ages of 20 to 28. He's crossing race lines, so I don't think they're placeholders." In all honesty, this case had pissed you off.
Twelve dead women and no one seemed to care until you phoned the department up yourself when VICAP flagged it all with you. Half of the cases had been closed for lack of evidence, and the other half so poorly investigated that you knew it was only a matter of time before they got boxed up and shelved too.
"The general public in Zephyrhills doesn't even know they have a serial killer. No one is being told to exert caution. There's no local press on this either."
"It says that these women were all killed, but there's no viable DNA they could pick up?" Morgan asks, looking up at you.
"That's right, no DNA evidence can be lifted, but spermicide was found on three of the victims."
"So our unsub was wearing a condom. He came prepared, and we were dealing with a serial rapist who has bridged into murdering his victims."
"There was no spermicide found on the other nine victims?" Emily looks up at you from her place at the small table.
"No. Rape test kits weren't run on any of the other victims because, quote: 'it was pretty obvious what had happened.' The precinct waited too long to collect the DNA evidence and now we don't have enough to locate, let alone prosecute an unsub based on DNA."
The whole team shared in your stressed look then, sending you matching sympathetic glances as they suddenly understood the herculean task you'd taken on trying to convince the locals to invite you in.
Not noticing the awkward silence that fell on the group, Spencer spoke up quickly from his place, standing beside you.
"You know, Zephyrhills is only about an hour away from Tampa. Tampa is the number one hook up spot in the US. It's residents boast on average 14 orgasms a month instead of the nationwide average of 12.5." He seemed pleased with the knowledge he'd just let everyone in on, as you looked back on him.
"Right. So our guy is trying to get his rocks off to out gun the rest of the country. Thanks, Spencer."
"It's relevant. It's says in the casefile here that three of our victims were last spotted on the highway making their way to Tampa, but then their bodies were found dumped in Zephyrhills. What if he's following them?"
"Spencer has a point, but if he's following them, what gets them to turn around? The cars were found abandoned in Zephyrhills, too, none of these women made it to Tampa." Hotch adds, and you make eye contact with him as your next thought comes to you.
"What could get someone to stop on a highway?" You ask, the question so simple, every single one of them knew the answer before you'd even finished asking.
"A cop." JJ filled in, and you all sat silently as you realised how dangerous this next case could truly be.
"We're about an hour out from arrival, everyone get some rest for now, I'm going to make a call to the nearest FBI Field Office, see if any of this is on their radar."
You slunked back to your seat at the back of the jet and sat down again, trying to get comfy but ending up just shifting multiple times in your seat.
Spencer joined you, sitting beside you, so close you could feel his eyes on you as your leg began to bounce. He put his hand over it and, with a strong hand, stilled the movement.
"Y/N, you did a good job connecting these cases." His voice was meek and calming, and you'd generally very much appreciate it if his hand weren't sending your body through some serious loops right then.
Your leg was on fire where he was touching you, his hand hot even through the fabric of your clothes. But when he pulled the hand away, watching your legs for any further tremors, you felt the need to snatch it back and replace it on your leg, certain that it would sooth the burning once more.
You snapped yourself out of it quickly. If you were thinking this way about Spencer of all people, then you really needed to get laid.
"Tampa's population consists of 43% singles, you know. Good statistics for getting laid." You twisted your head around to meet his eyes again.
"Tell me I didn't say that outloud." But his small smile dashed your hopes as you realised you just admitted to feeling incredibly horny because of his hand on your knee.
"If it's any consolation, I'm definitely the only one who heard it." His hand fell back to your thigh, and you twitched as it did, but you didn't move him.
"Fucking floridians and their goddamn 14 orgams a month," you muttered under your breath, hoping that he wasn't paying any attention to you now, seeing as how he'd opened up a book to hold in one hand.
"Lucky if I get even one and Florida man has 14 in him." You continue mumbling as you try to get cosy, closing your eyes and moving your head to find a comfortable position.
“You definitely said that one out loud.” He laughed, and you threw up your middle finger while letting your head fall back and your body take the rest it needed.
Without opening your eyes, you decided you needed the last word, a phenomenon you often found occurring in Spencer’s presence.
“A gentleman would pretend to not have heard that, Spencer.”
“I’m not a gentleman.” Annoyance prickled you at his reply, but you were too tired to say anything more as you caught up with the sleep that had been evading you for weeks.
–X–
Your landing in Florida comes almost too soon, and Hotch delegates tasks before you’ve even had the chance to properly get your feet beneath you after so long in the sky.
This case was becoming more of a mindfield with each of the pieces of information you’d received. Upon getting off of his call with the FBI Field Office closest to Zephryhills, Hotch had informed the team about an ongoing investigation into the police captain’s wife, whose pseudo-Christian church group were spewing vitriol about damn near every group you could think of.
“Religious discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia and some pretty screwed up views of basically everything else, too.” Penelope had informed the group, pulling up the files that had been sent to her.
“It seems their most recent project is… Oh, how relevant. An adult establishment just opened up on the outskirts of Tampa, right on the highway that connects it to Zephyrhills. And from the boasts of the club owner on social media, it seems he’s telling anyone who listens that he’s not going to get shut down because the police are his main clientele.”
She sent through links to some of the posts to your iPads, and you angled the thing towards Spencer so he could take in the new information as well.
“Could we be looking at a religious motive to the murders? You said that the police captain called these women Jezebels. The name is biblical, she was a Queen who worshipped a false god and was defenestrated because of it, but over time, the uncapitalised jezebel, as you know, tended to refer to women with loose morals.”
“The motives could still be religious, but these women were raped. It says in the case files that Mrs. James’s church group is solely comprised of women, mostly the wives of the officers in the police force.”
Again, everything was leading you back to this stupid police precinct. You grimmaced as you realised that the next few weeks were going to be spent on the edge watching your back.
“Y/N, Reid, I want you both with me at the precinct when we land. Morgan, JJ, go to the church and interview some of the ladies there, see if you can’t push some buttons. Emily, Rossi, some of the family’s of the victims got in touch with the field office to request inquiries, go anf find out whatever you can about the last known whereabouts of these women.”
Now bracing yourself, you set your face in a neutral expression and let Spencer hold the door open for you as you walked into the station.
“Hello, we’re the agents from the FBI. Where can we find your captain?” You ask the receptionist at the chatting to her desk, but just as you finish your inquiry, another officer cuts you off, stepping half in front of you and demanding some files from the woman.
She stands awkwardly, sending you an apologetic glance as she scurries off to go and complete whatever busy work he’s just given her as you quietly seeth at his back.
The officer turns around to you and grins, sending you a smile as he walks off, apparently pleased with himself for foiling your attempts to find his boss.
“Y/N, keep a cool head. The captain’s office seems to be just ahead, I’m going to go and see if he’s there, smooth out some of the issues they seem to be having over here with our presence.” You nod and stay back with Spencer, who takes a quick seat behind you.
You don’t sit, though, too on edge and pissed off to get comfortable now.
The officers seem to ignore the two of you, bustling around you with no sense of shame, but you can tell they're watching you, hearing the low murmur of whispers.
When one of them decides to out their hands on you, though, you've decided you've had enough.
"Sorry, little lady, I need to get through. Important police business." He practically Leeds down at you as his hands grab your waist, meaning to move you aside to her you out of his path.
You don't give him the chance, grabbing his hands from your hips and twisting them behind his back quickly, shoving him face first into the nearest desk.
"Fuck, you little bitch. Come and control your partner, man." He struggles in your grasp, signalling to Spencer.
You grin as Spencer doesn't even look up at him, having pulled out a copy of War and Peace and settling nicely in his seat. You could tell he was on edge though, had seen the slight way his body tensed when you'd first been touched, and knew that if you'd needed it, he'd be there backing you up in a second.
"Sorry, are you talking to me?" He finally said, still not looking up from his book.
"Yes, get this bitch off of me."
"If you ask her nicely, I'm sure Agent Y/N would release you. As for me, I'm certainly not making her do anything she doesn't want to." He grinned as he said it, and you rolled your eyes slightly.
"Maybe if you told some of these other agents here to stop looking at her likes, she's a hunk of meat and greeted her respectfully instead of calling her… little lady, was it? Maybe then she'd be more generous." The man grumbled beneath you again, but before you could actually force his hand, Hotch and the Captain were exiting his office, obviously alerted by the crashing sound you'd made.
"Reid, Y/N, that's enough." Hotch signalled, and you complied, letting the man go and stepping back to Reid's side. He'd stood now, squaring his shoulders and making use of his quite intimidating height. You must seem tense, though, because the second you settle next to him, he puts a hand on your lower back, and you're surprised at how calm you instantly become.
Earlier, his touch had been fire and ice, and now it was relaxing you beyond belief. What the hell was wrong with your body recently?
"Thank you, sir," the officer said, straightening, dusting off his uniform as he levelled a glare at both you and Spencer. "I was beginning to think the FBI was just a bunch of sissy's and menstruators-"
"Cut the crap." Hotch barked out, and even you were startled by the sound. "Captain, if you or any member of your precinct says anything further about any member of my team, or god forbid puts a hand on them, I'll personally make sure this office is charged with conspiracy to murder for not investigating these deaths and aggravated assault of a federal officer. Do I make myself clear?"
The man seemed displeased at having his badge threatened for a second time in 24 hours, but nodded, dismissed the other officer, and finally shut up.
He has the female receptionist from earlier show you to the room you'd be using for your investigation for the next few weeks.
After making sure the room is secure, you place a call to Penelope and the others trying to gauge if they'd found any further leads.
"Some of the family members know exactly where they were going that night. One of them had a husband, said he was going with her, that they drove in separate cars because it was part of the thrill of it all." Emily's voice sounded tense and frustrated, and you could only sympathise silently before jumping in to ask her more questions.
"I thought they said it was an adult establishment? Does that not mean strip club?" You asked, perplexed at why the married couple would be going together.
"No, from what I can tell, it seems these women were members of the BDSM community, and that place… is somewhere they can practice."
"So even if we do somehow get another victim, any DNA test could be questionable evidence because they all left to have consensual sex." You sighed out and ran a stressed hand through your hair.
On your call with JJ and Morgan, you got much of the same.
"Oh, they're angry, alright. About the immigrants and the drug dealers, the homosexuals, and the jezebels. Seems they're working hard to get the club closed not just because it's a house of sin but also because the man who owns it might be an illegal immigrant."
"How quaint and Christian of them."
"Yep, and get this, the club's official title? Women for the Grace of God. There were no men in this group, Y/N. We're not going to find our unsub here."
Hanging up, you let your head hang, the fatigue of the case really kicking your ass.
"Spencer, draw the blinds, Y/N, lock the doors." Hotch ordered, and you listened, quickly making sure that no one was even close to the door. Returning to your seat, you noted the tense set of your boss's jaw and decided that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good.
"Our unsub is in this precinct, which means we're not safe. But it also puts us in a unique position. They don't know we suspect them yet. We can force the unsubs hand."
You straightened in your chair, listening closer.
"You want to bait them out?" Spencer asked from his place beside you.
"I want you two to bait them out. You already got under a few of the officers' skin, push a few more buttons, and we could get our unsub to slip up."
"And how are we supposed to do that?" You asked, heart thumping in anticipation. You thought you already knew, but you needed to hear the words from his mouth to be sure.
"They're going after women in the BDSM lifestyle. Let's convince them that the two of you are also similarly involved."
He turned and left you with the decision then, leaving you and Spencer in the small room alone.
Your palms were sweaty, and you refused eye contact for a few minutes before he finally cracked and gave in first.
"It'd work." He whispered, suddenly closer than you remembered.
"What?"
"It would work. Whoever this guy is, he's getting off on dominating these women, seeing another man that he deems physically inferior dominating a woman who's already kicked an officers ass… that's enough to get him to crumble, slip up."
"So I'm supposed to just bend over and take it?"
"Bend over, yes, but I usually prefer women to be a bit bratty."
"What?" You found yourself blinking up at his face, even as the door swung open again, another officer walking into the small room you'd been left in.
You stepped away from Reid slightly, putting a more appropriate distance between the two of you before the man started talking.
"Well hello, I heard we had some feds in the office, thought I'd come introduce myself, but I didn't hear we had such a beautiful woman here, too. She a witness?" He directed the question to Spencer, but his leering eyes never left your body, trailing down slowly and disgustingly as you tried not to shudder under his gaze.
"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, this is my partner, Agent Y/N. How can we help you?"
"Oh, I'm all set on my medicals, doc. You can't help me. Maybe she can if you let me take her out for a test drive?" Your blood boiled as he said those words, and you were about to send a cutting reply back to the man, when Spencer sat back down in his seat, snaking an arm around your waist to take you with him.
"Sorry, I don't lend out my private property." Stunned, you tried to act naturally about your new position, but his hand on your thigh slashes your brain capacity down by half, the only thought in your head running through Spencer Reid's possible sexual preferences.
"Oh, I see how it is. She's a slut, just not that kind. Okay, I'll bite, what's this one into? Choking, spanking? Careful, don't go too far or you'll be prime suspect number one for our perp."
"What are you insinuating, officer?"
"That these sluts you're asking about got in over their heads. Some women like it rough, practically beg for it. Poor guy just did what they were asking." Biting your tongue, you let the man keep digging his own hole, as Spencer kept him talking.
"Actually, contrary to popular opinion, in most sado-masochistic relationships, the submissive partner is the one in control. They have power to stop whatever role play is going on in the scene through safe words and actions, and the dominant role is more of a protective role, requiring a deep level of commitment and care for their sub." As he said it, he turned your face to his, hooking a finger under your chin and then stroking your face as you fell further into his body.
You almost forgot the other officer was there until you heard his grumbled reply, turning your head slightly to whisper in Reid's ear.
"Long shot, Doc." With that, you climbed from his lap, turning back to the other officer with a grin.
"Sorry, was there anything professional we could help you with? Or would you like to go and deal with your little problem alone in the men's bathroom now?" He turned on his heels and exited swiftly, face red with rage at your insinuations.
"Okay. I'll admit, it's going to work. But we're going to need to set up some bait and deliver the profile to them to make sure we have each and every one of their attentions."
"I'll notify, Hotch."
"Spencer, wait." He stopped at the door and turned back to listen to you. "Earlier when you said… when you mentioned that you'd prefer…" You tried to ask the question but it seemed the question just wasn't going to form on your lips so you simply let out a small frustrated humph and let him figure out the rest.
"Y/N, I… I don't know how to answer that question and still act professionally around you."
He left the room shortly after, and you couldn't help but feel disappointed at the distance suddenly kept between the two of you. You were beginning to become much too distracted by Spencer Reid.
–X–
"Let's have another rundown again, just so we're all clear on the play by play on this." Morgan said as you and Spencer were wired up, ready for your operation.
It wasn't exactly undercover, but it wasn't quite straight police work either, but here you were. After giving the profile earlier, you'd noted that three of the officers had seemed a little bit fidgety under all the new information they were getting, all three of them matching your profile.
Unluckily for you, they just happened to be the Captain in charge of the precinct, Detective Handsy from your first trip into the office, and Detective Dumbass, who'd asked you and Spencer all about BDSM earlier that day.
Penelope had filled you in on each of their backgrounds. The Captain was second generation police force, but court of public opinion had ruled that his father wasn't exactly an upstanding guy, a report corroborated by his mother's multiple accidents and trips to the ER. Detective Handsy had a misdemeanour sex crime expunged from his juvenile record for masturbating in public - on the unconscious girl who sat next to him on the bus.
Detective Dumbass seemed to be the police contact for all the local prostitutes. He'd busted at least thirty in three months, and each of them had reportedly tried to turn him in as the John who'd paid for their services.
"Run through it again." Morgan brought you down to earth as JJ finished attaching the wire under your clothing, handing you the small in ear so you could hear updates from the team.
"We walk into the bar, get a little too close for comfort than they'd like, then ask the bartender where we can have some fun around here. She's been prepped to give us the answer we want, and we set out on the highway where Rossi and Hotch are waiting in unmarked cars to give us an escort until our unsub takes the bait and tries to pull us over."
"Good, now, Spencer, do I have to show you where to put your hands, or do you think you've read enough to figure out how to push the right buttons?" From the grin on his face, it was evident he was enjoy pushing the younger man's buttons but you could tell he wasn't doing it maliciously. The two of you were both tense and on edge, and you needed that waylaid somehow.
"Trust me, Morgan, I think he knows where his fingers should go." You said before grabbing Spencer’s hand and dragging him out of the vehicle, not letting him go until you were right by the door of the bar.
You didn't really let him go either, it's more like he caught up to you and moved his hand from yours to your ass instead, pulling you closer into his body as you made to move inside the bar.
He hesitated a moment outside, though.
"Y/N, we haven't talked about boundaries yet. I'm going to have to touch you in there and-"
"You have my permission. For anything." Your words come faster than you expect, but they're there, filling the silence of the night quickly.
"Anything?" He asks, a small play lighting up his lips as he pulls you in closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, and you almost take back your words until he lowers his head. Your lips are barely an inch apart and getting slowly closer as you angle your head up towards him, when the bar doors swing open and he turns and pulls you inside instead.
You recover quickly, trying to focus on the twelve women who need to find justice rather than the many things you suddenly want Spencer Reid to be doing to you.
You slide into a booth at the edge of the bar but you'd canvassed the place earlier, knowing that while it appeared to be a quiet corner, every other table had a clear view of your actions in the corner.
Surely enough you felt a few pairs of eyes on you as you sat down, a little closer for comfort than you expected.
"Well, Penelope's sources were correct. It seems like every cop in town is here tonight." You said, whispering the words into Spencer's neck, just above where his own wire was placed, making sure the words were heard by both him and the members of your team left in the surveillance van.
"Show time," he said, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as you stood. He gave your ass a quick slap as you made to walk towards the bar, and you sent him back a wink as you walked to order your drinks.
Ordering them quickly, you took a simple scan of the room, noting that all three of your suspects were social butterflies tonight. They all sat on different tables, but each had at least another man with him, and every single one of them was looking at you presitorially.
Returning to your seat with the drinks, you never felt their gazes leave you.
"Certainly caught their attention. What now?" You asked hesitantly, sliding up against Spencer’s body again.
"Now we give them a show." He said, snaking a hand between your legs and forcing them apart gently. You'd changed into a shorter skirt and smaller top before coming back out, needing to look the part of the slut they'd already deemed you.
You smiled up at Spencer as he stoked your thigh suggestively, but he never moved it further up.
"Spencer, kiss me." You said, eyelids heavy as you begged the man to take you further than touching.
"Why?" He asked softly in your ear.
"Because a few of our suspects are getting restless, and I want to see if we can tip some of them over the edge. Obviously you're smarter than trying to stick your hand up my skirt in public surrounded by a group of cops who would happily stick you in a cell for the night for public indecency, so you're just going to have to stick your tongue down my throat."
"Here I was thinking maybe you wanted it," he grumbled but complied anyway, grabbing the back of your head with his free hand and pulling you towards him. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle the way his caresses were. It was hot and it was demanding, and when he pulled away after a minute and your lips followed his desperate for more he grabbed your hair and pulled you backwards, baring your neck to him easily as he moved his lips down slightly.
Opening your eyes then, you again surveyed the bar, noting that the Captain and his friends were leaving, sending a stink eyed glare in your direction as they threw down their cups and left.
"Morgan, get eyes on the Captain. Make sure he goes home and stays there," you breathe out quietly, waiting to hear the affirmative in your ear as Spencer kept his head buried at your neck.
In another second, he was off you, taking a swig only his drink as he smoothed your hair down again. You do your best to ignore the history pooling between your legs and the haze clouding up your brain as you stare at him swallow the drink, watching a small stream of the soda you'd ordered him instead run down his chin.
You watched it fall and, in a moment of thoughtlessness, pressed forward to lap it up from his neck. He'd spent time marking you. What harm could this do now?
However you rationalised it, you knew it was just an impulse, one greatly rewarded by his hands pulling your hips over his and a growl in your ears.
"Anything?" Was the only thing he said, and you pulled away to look into his eyes again before he pulled you in for another kiss.
"Sorry to interrupt, love bunnies, but we've had a change of plan. Two of our suspects are out, and they've bailed and been safely and discreetly escorted home by FBI agents from the field office. Hotch and Rossi are on the way back. He thinks we can nail him in there and get him to act out."
Pulling back from the kiss long enough to whisper your reply to Morgan into Spencer's mic, you can barely tear your eyes away from the man.
"What do you want us to do?"
"Men's bathroom is free. Hotch thinks if we make it look like you're doing something less than holy in there that it could force his hand. Especially because he's shown voyeuristic tendencies in the past."
"Shit. Detective Dumbass?"
"Only one left. And his name is Dunbar. You'd do well to remember that in the paperwork."
Pulling yourself up and out of Spencer's lap, you took a swig of your drink again as you stood.
"Follow me in three minutes." He grabs you by your wrist and turns you back around to him again, though before you can leave.
"Y/N, we're going to get this guy. After we do, I think we should talk." Instead of answering him, you pressed another lingering kiss to his lips and moved out again, heading directly to the dark corridor where the bathrooms were.
You slipped into the men's easily enough, thankful that it was empty. It was a single stall, and when you heard the knock on the door two minutes later, you were suddenly thankful that it was, because it meant that you could lock the door behind him and not risk anyone else coming in while you baited your unsub.
Spencer placed a hand to his lips as soon as he made it through the door, pulling out his phone to type out a message to you without speaking.
"Followed me. Think he's listening outside."
You pulled your own out to answer him.
"Let's give him a show then."
The both of you discarded your phones on the countertop of the bathroom and suddenly collided again, as if you were two magnets who could no longer resist the pull.
Your lips fought hungrily, and now you didn't pull back your voice letting all the moans of pleasure fall from your mouth and fill the bathroom.
His hands were on you in an instant, pushing you back against the door, letting the creep behind the wall hear as much as possible as his hips found yours and you started grinding against him like your life depended on it.
You could no longer tell what you were doing for the case, and what you were doing out of the simple desire to do so, wrapped up in all of the pleasure he was giving you in that minute. And that was before he started talking.
"You like that, whore? You like feeling my hands on you out here in this dirty bathroom." You clenched around nothing, even as his hands trailed lower, reaching the top of your skirt just as you replied.
"Yes, I like that, Daddy. Please touch me more."
You crashed together again, even as Spencer's hand fell inside your skirt and panties suddenly reaching for your clit. You forgot everything. The bathroom, the unsub, the wire you were wearing. When his hands were on you your only thoughts were him.
You gasped in delight as he began rubbing you, moaning out heartily, not bothering to restrain your voice. Even if there was not a murderer on the other side of the door, you'd have wanted everyone to know how good he was making you feel.
"Kneel," he says, and you listen, getting down to the dirty floor for him and looking up at him innocently.
"Now what, sir?" You ask, teasing him with a smile. He gives your face a light slap in reply, but the sound is sharp, and you can hear some movement outside. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, as he suddenly removes his cock from his pants.
"Suck" is all the instruction you need before you're taking him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around him.
After the entire night of teasing, you don't have to be told twice. You take him down your throat until you're gagging, but he puts his hands on your head and pushes you further anyway.
"That's it, baby, such a nice little slut just for me." He holds your hair as he begins fucking your face, softly whispering insults into the quiet bathroom.
"Perfect little slut, letting me do this here. For anyone to see and hear how much you like my dick down your throat. I should unlock this door, show everyone how nicely you take my cock."
You moan around him, desperately gripping his thigh as you struggle to breathe. He finally pulls out, pulling you up by your hair until you're face to face with him again, saliva dripping from your mouth.
"Is that how you like it?" He asks, and you nod fervently.
"Yes, sir. Please fuck me now, I've been such a good little girl."
He turns you and presses you against the door again. As you turn your ear to it, you can hear some pacing outside of it as he lifts up your skirt.
You were ready to feel this perfect bliss, right up to the moment Morgan decided to remind you of the task at hand.
"Hotch is here. We've got him cornered. Great acting, guys. We're thinking if Y/N exits the bathroom now, we can catch him trying to carry her off."
His hands stilled on you, and you both stared guiltily into each other's eyes. You kept your sounds up, definitely acting now, feeling as though you'd just been doused in ice-cold water.
Footsteps retreating down the hall had you suddenly nodding in response to each other, faking your orgasm with one last large gasp followed by a few minutes of silence and you straightened your clothes ready to bait the unsub once again. He tucks himself into his pants, and you loudly discuss your plans for separate exits.
"I'll meet you back at the table in five." He says, and with another lingering look, you're out the door and alone in the dark corridor, feeling empty and needy.
It was time to catch a killer.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#mgg#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid kinktober#criminal minds kinktober#kinktober 23
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4 with Jude Bellingham, please!
-> legacy | jude bellingham
visuals
jude thought playing in front of thousands was nerve-wracking, but somehow, this award presentation was a bit worse. it was all amplified by the cameras being close and photographers yelling at him from all angles. he had accepted his golden boy and absolute golden boy award and taken a few photos before returning to his seat with his parents. the commotion of the evening was winding down, and he was anxiously awaiting the meal that would come at the post-ceremony dinner - he had talked so much and shaken so many hands it was becoming a blur all after traveling from spain in the middle of the week. the little boys in the back doing his celebration was cemented in his heart unlike anything else. it kept his spirits high in his sleepy state. his mom mentioned there were two more awards and the show would finally be over. the announcement came through the air as you walked onto the stage with a heart-stopping smile and a card in hand.
“oh she’s beautiful.” denise commented softly.
“wow, i’m so thankful for the opportunity to be here with the greatest this sport has seen. it’s an honor to present this award on behalf of my uncle’s legacy,” you began. jude went from half awake to wide awake, looking at you on stage in your gorgeous blue gown. “this legacy award highlights the people in football who have unbelievably impacted the world.” you scanned the audience with shimmering eyes before continuing. “this year, the board of directors could not find a better person to hold this award,” you opened the envelope and laughed lightly, “the one and only, our golden boy jude bellingham.”
something about your sugary sweet voice saying “our golden boy” made jude’s cheeks warm and his body hotter. he was so nervous to stand next to you that he barely looked up from the floor as he walked up the stage. you took the trophy from the stand and offered it to him. it was much heavier than you anticipated, and your hand bobbled, but jude quickly grabbed your hands in his to hold it steady. you laughed nervously and started apologizing profusely, which he immediately rushed to let you know he had it secure in his hands. his hands didn’t leave yours, and you made no effort to pull away as the two shared nervous laughter while fumbling over your words. the laughing of the crowd brought jude back down to earth, and took the trophy delicately before turning to the microphone to give a short speech. you cheeks were warm with embarrassment and you stepped aside to let jude shine once more tonight.
“uh, hi, it’s me again.” jude chuckled. he heard you laugh beside him, and he tried to keep his composure. “thank you,” he turned to look at you, and you nodded gingerly, “and thank you to the board who voted for me. again, i couldn’t do this without the support and my family - i’m honored to be able to keep your uncles legacy alive.” the two of you walked backstage, and you were swept away by a show assistant who mentioned “media” and “photo obligations.” jude felt a bit disappointed that he couldn’t stop to talk to you, but as if you could hear his thoughts, you turned around and yelled softly, “see you at the dinner, yeah?”
photos and photos and more photos. jude was thankful it was over - he would have to say no to the next person asking for a picture. he could see your blue gown floating around the luxurious ballroom, from person to person. you hadn’t stopped moving yet. his mom told him you were pretty famous in your own right: you just secured a role as a disney princess. his mind wandered to how he could start a conversation with you, but each idea fell short. his dad nudged him with a mischievous smile. “just go up to her.” he teased. “it’s a bit weird, d’know what i mean?” jude explained. “there’s nothing weird about it. say thank you, ask about her uncle, hell ask for her name, just ask something.” jude frowned at his dad's comments as if it were oh-so-easy to walk up to a girl as radiant as you.
10 minutes passed. then 20 minutes. it was nearly 45 minutes when you finally circled back to jude. he was in a deep conversation that it slipped his mind that he wanted to speak with you - people had bombarded him with compliments and discussions. “jude!” you whispered a few conversations over with a wave of your hand. you pointed towards your phone and the photographers. more photos, no. but a moment with you, yes. he excused himself from the conversation, which his mom expertly took over, and his dad winked.
“they want a few more photos,” you said. you could’ve asked jude to follow you out the door, and he probably would have - he was enamored with you. jude took the trophy from an assistant who extended it out to him. he held it with both hands but was promptly scolded by a photographer - “no, both of you hold it.” jude shuffled closer to you, and you placed your hand on the other side of the award. “can you get closer, no no, even closer please.” the photographer barked again. you laughed softly and commented, “geez,” through your smile. jude snaked his arm around your waist, and your hip found his side, and in return, you wrapped your arm around him, your head tilted inwards. you were so close jude couldn’t hide his smile - it was broad and goofy. the flash of lights was arresting and almost blinding. no matter how many times he stood in front of photographers, it never got easier. as quickly as you were there, you were pulling away. the assistant whisked the award out of his hand, and you had turned away once more before he mustered up the courage to say anything.
jude was on his way to leave when you called out to him. “wait. come here, it’ll be quick.” you grabbed the award and your phone - forcing the trophy into his hands quickly. “it’s my bereal.” jude threw up a peace sign as you snapped a photo, then you turned into him, your head resting on his chest as you snapped a selfie from outstretch arms. it was the most unserious photo he had taken all night - it was his favorite.
“that’s the one for sure.” you gushed as you showed him the photo. “absolutely. it’s all you.” jude said. “oh no that’s all you, golden boy.” you two talked for a moment. mainly you, but jude was more than happy to listen. you said your goodbyes soon after, and jude found his parents.
“wasn’t that bad was it?” his dad teased.
as he waited for his flight to take off, jude wondered if he should slide into your dms but opted against it. he opened twitter and scrolled through his feed before tapping on his notifications. the same tweet was retweeted and it made him curious.
it was a photo of the two of you holding hands on stage in the middle of laughing, then another of you leaning into each other at the dinner, and finally, you taking a photo of him at the ceremony. people were eating it up, commenting left and right about how cute you were.
user1 he’s winning on and off the pitch.
user2 i see what he’s doing he’s cooking
user3 oh he’s in love with her he’s just like me fr
user4 jude if you see this just know i’ll fight you over her.
user5 gonna tell my kids this is posh and becks
jude opened instagram to see if the chaos was just as large. he went straight to your page and hit follow when he got a notification that you followed him back. it made his heart skip a beat.
yn.jpg tagged you in a post
captioned: what a night celebrating my uncle, the love never stops. my heart is happy (even though i nearly dropped the trophy!!) here’s to the legacy ❣️
jude laughed inwardly as he scrolled through photos of you on the red carpet, one of you on stage, the next of you two holding hands and laughing, and finally the bereal the two of you had taken. jude typed and untyped a comment before he finally settled on one and pushed send. he knew it would be everywhere but he wanted to know if you were as interested in him as he was in you.
judebellingham it’s not every night i get to meet a princess and get to honor the legacy of your uncle xx
-> yn.jpg responded not every night i get to meet a golden boy. seems like dreams are coming true.
#football fanfic#football fic#football one shot#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham drabble#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham fic#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham
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100 Yard Sprint
Summary: you want to play catch on the football field with Travis.
Pairing: Travis Kelce x Pen Pal!Reader
Travis couldn’t help but smile. The letterman is quite big on you. Your small hand is gripping his. You’ve stolen his designer glasses from his game day fit. You’ve got a bounce in your step. He could contribute it to the booze you had up in the suite and just the excitement of being on the field with him to pass a football around.
He took you through the tunnel out to the somewhat bare field. There’s guys cleaning up the sidelines- a reporter and his cameraman wrapping up. A couple various groups of fans still hanging around taking their time.
“Alright, Jerr,” Travis said as the two of you stepped into the end zone. “Here’s the end zone.”
“You gonna throw me the ball?” you asked. “And then I’m gonna do a touchdown?”
“Yes, baby,” he said.
“Shouldn’t Mahomes be throwing it?” you teased.
“I can throw you the ball from ten feet away, Jerry,” he said backing up. “Just get into the spot you want.”
You stood right on the line and got into a defensive position.
“Oh wait, you’ll need my helmet,” he said walking back to you.
Travis carefully took the sunglasses off and you looked right up at him. He wore them instead and placed the football in your hands before crowning you. He took off the baseball cap and wore it himself but backwards. It didn’t fit quite right.
He finally let you dawn his helmet. It’s a bit too big for you but it’s adorable especially with you smiling up at him.
“I’m ready, Coach,” you said.
“Sure you are,” he smiled stepping backwards. “You’re cute, ya know.”
“Cute as a mouse?” you asked.
Travis laughed, “that’s in your name, Jerry!”
He walked back to the ten yard line. You stood at the edge of the end zone. You got into a defensive position.
“2- 42, 28,” Travis called out getting ready to throw the ball. “HIKE!”
He threw you an easy ball. You managed to catch it. You immediately started running away from the end zone behind you.
“INTERCEPTION, BITCH!” you yelled running past him.
“Wha—? Shhhhiiiit,” Travis said spinning around.
You’ve got a full blown sprint going. He started running after you. He couldn’t believe how fast you’re going. The determination you have is unmatched.
Travis watched as you got to the end zone and launched that football against the turf. You then celebrated with one of his own touchdown celebration dances. He laughed. He ran up to you, wrapped his arms around your waist, and lifted you off the ground. He spun you around.
“LETS GO, BABY!” Travis exclaimed.
You laughed clutching the back of his red undershirt.
“Congrats, Pretty Girl, you scored your first touchdown,” he said.
“Do I- Do I get a trophy?” you asked breathing hard.
“I’ll find you one,” he said carefully letting you slide down.
“The Lombardi?” you asked with doe eyes.
“Give me some time. I gotta get the team to the Super Bowl,” Travis said.
“Okay,” you said.
“Let’s go to the locker room,” he said.
“I don’t think I can walk,” you admitted.
“That’s okay,” he said. “Lemme grab you your winning football.”
Travis quickly went off and fetched the ball. He got back to you.
“Piggyback ride?” He asked.
“Please!” you exclaimed.
He crouched down just enough for you to hop on. You clumsily got on. He stood up hooking his arms under your knees. Your arms went around his neck. He started making his way back down the field to the tunnel.
“Your helmet kinda stinks,” you said.
“Well, I did play in it today, Jerry,” he said.
“Gross,” you mumbled.
Travis chuckled. He happily carried you all the way back to the locker room.
Once by his cubby/locker, he let you slide off of his back. You stumbled a bit but he was quick to stabilize you.
“Sit down, Baby,” Travis said softly.
You sat down on the bench and he gave you the football to hold. He took off his helmet for you and placed it on the shelf. He took off his sunglasses, gloves, and the baseball cap. They were placed on the shelf. He carefully fixed your hair.
“You’re hot,” you said.
Travis grinned, “you’re not so bad yourself, Jerr.”
He leaned down and tilted his head. He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. He felt you smile. One of your hands found his bearded cheek. You’re pulling him closer. He’s lucky that it’s an empty locker room.
“You’re trouble, Y/n, ya know that?” Travis said pulling away.
You gave a dopey smile reminding him that you’re still very much intoxicated.
“I’m gonna take a shower and get changed-,” he told you.
“Can I join you?”
“No, Jerry, I’m not gonna get in trouble because of you,” he said. “You’re gonna sit right here. I’ll be quick.”
“Can I have your phone?” you asked.
“Yeah but don’t be causing trouble,” he said.
You gasped offended. Travis chuckled and found his phone in one of his bags. He unlocked it for you and gave it to you. You, without any hesitations, called his mother while he took off his cleats.
“You little asshole,” Travis said shaking his head.
You giggled.
“Momma, don’t listen to her!” he exclaimed the second he heard his mom say ‘hello.’
“Excuse me?! I’m trying to have a conversation here,” you slurred.
“You’re telling on me to my own mother!” he said.
“I would never!” you lied straight through your teeth.
Donna laughed hearing her son bicker with you. She can’t wait until she sees the two of you getting married. She’ll tell this story at the wedding.
#travis kelce x pen pal!reader#travis kelce imagine#travis kelce x reader#travis kelce#travis kelce x you#travis kelce x y/n#travis kelce x female!reader#travis kelce fanfic#nfl fic
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Hello, how r u? I would like to make a request Yautja x reader (f)
I saw a drawing on Pinterest of an Albino Yautja and I got an idea and I can't get it out of my head.
It may be about an albino Yautja who, because of his condition, is despised and no female accepts him as his mate. This caused him to develop insecurities and barriers around him. Afterwards, the Elders took pity on him and through agreements with planet Earth sent him a human wife as a gift.
the rest is up to you. I trust you and if you like it I would love it if I could do it 🫶🏻🥺
So, this took me some time on, because I wanted to adjust it a little (as-is, it kind of made me think of like. a mail-order bride scenario? so I wanted to shift it a little away from that. hope that's okay).
So I'd like to imagine there's some type of agreement in place between Yautja Prime and Earth where humans and yautja can volunteer for matchmaking-type services.
Both parties are free to accept or decline each offer as they see fit, with no consequences on either side.
He figures he has no chance at finding a yautja mate, so he tries his luck with an Earth one.
When you first see him, completely snow-white in color, you're captivated. Most yautja are darker in color and have natural patterns that help them blend in with organic surroundings. This one? He'd probably only be suited for a hunt in the arctic.
You both talk. Get to know each other. He confides that no yautja female would have him due to his albinism, and genuinely seems a bit confused when you tell him you think he's beautiful.
There's a bit of two-fold camaraderie/commiserating if you're also somewhat of an outsider on Earth as well for any reason.
Granted, he's still somewhat closed-off. His past experiences have warranted some emotional barriers. Being an outcast in a warrior society can do that.
He tells you one night of being alone on hunts when he should have had help. How he'd barely managed to scrape by with his life, and even when he'd brought back trophy after trophy, he still wasn't seen as good enough.
He probably falls for you as soon as you start marveling at all the trophies he's collected. Or any time you thank him for bringing you one.
He's... a little awkward when it comes to courting. He's never had any experience with it, just heard stories of what you're "supposed to do".
Brings you lots of dead things at first. He's like a cat. Look, human mate! I can provide!!! Love me!!
So just... go easy on him and tell him what you need from him. He'll adjust.
Over time, as you two get closer, your bond is unshakable. Everyone on both sides knows that neither of you are going anywhere, having finally found each other.
Also, I can see both of you being fiercely protective of the other. Whenever anyone tries to shun either of you, the other immediately comes to their aid. Sometimes with violence.
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Call it what you want
Summary- You and Joe attend his Heisman ceremony. What you don’t know is that Joe has something up his sleeve for after the ceremony.
Warnings: Fluff, References of sex
Being friends with Joe was a reward in itself, but seeing him achieve a goal of a lifetime is worth more than any award there is.
Getting ready in the hotel room in New York City was not on your bucket list for 2019 but hey I was not complaining. Joe was up for the heisman trophy and you could not be more proud of him. Knowing what he has endured up to this moment would make anyone have nothing but respect for him.
Joe and I have been friends since middle school. All I remember is a shy kid hesitant to find a seat somewhere. Calling him over to sit next to me was the best decision I have ever made. Although what I didn't know was I was going to be falling for him as the years went on. each day that went by I always noticed something new about him, like the way he gets all giggly when talking about things he loves, or when he gets tuned vision when he is really really focused on something.
Having these feelings for Joe meant that every little thing made me jealous. Like when girls fond over him or when girls literally come up to him and flirt with him. Before my thoughts took over me I got pulled out by Joe calling my name.
"Y/n!"-Joe
"yea what's up"- you say sitting down the makeup brush.
"Which tie should I pick?"- Joe says holding up two purple ties that look almost identical
"Go with the one without the gold it kinda washes you out"- You say taking the tie from him to put it on him while he laughs at your remark.
"Can't even catch a break on my day huh?"- Joe says shaking his head laughing.
"Hey just because your winning an award doesn't change the fact that your still easy to make fun of."- You say while fixing him up so he looks put together.
"There you go. Nice and proper."- you walking back to finish your makeup
"Thanks and I haven't won anything yet, I'm just a nominee."-Joe says following you and sitting down on the bed next to the vanity watching you apply the finishing touches.
"Oh c'mon, Joe we all know you have this award in the bag. You have had heck of a season and most of all you deserve it more than anyone."- you say turning to him and grabbing his hands.
"Everyone believes in you Joe not just your family. You pretty much have the whole state of Louisiana supporting you tonight as you are their adopted son apparently."-you say as Joe looks up and laughs at the adoption joke.
"Thank you y/n. You always know how to bring my confidence back up."- Joe says looking at you with a little glimmer in his eyes.
"Oh! also can you help me zip up my dress?"-you ask standing up and turning around so my back faces him.
"Yea sure."-Joe says slowly zipping the dress up.
"There. And thank you for always being there, it means a lot."-Joe says while you turn around to look at him.
When turning around you had no idea how close you actually were to Joe, so close that your chest was literal centimeters away from his.
Looking into Joe's eyes gave you a wash of euphoria. Something hat only his can do, and he felt the same way about yours. Every stolen glance he takes at you when you aren't looking and every little gesture he does to show that he cares.
As you guys stared into each others eyes, it was cut short by Robin and Jimmy clearing their throats.
"Time to go guys!"- Robin says as she looks at us smirking.
"Yea okay."- we both say at the same time while they leave the room.
"Wait! Joe before we go gets take a picture."-You say opening the camera app and taking the picture,
"okay lets go y/n, this could turn into a whole photoshoot with you."-joe says laughing and guiding me to the door.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Walking into the ceremony felt unreal. Before it started we talked to a couple of joes coaches and other nominees.
A few minutes into small taking we were told the ceremony would be broadcasting in a ew minutes and we had to take our seats. before I went to my seat I decided to give Joe some more words of encouragement.
"Hey Joe just remember what I told you in the hotel room, you have all the support in the world right now, win or lose we're so so proud of you."-you say as he was staring u at you with admiration in his eyes.
"Thank you y/n."- He says with a tight lipped smile.
I could tell he was nervous. Joe only smiled like that when he was nervous or when he wanted out of a situation and didn't want to make it awkward.
As I'm walking back to my seat I couldn't help but over hear one of the nominees say that Joe had a good one. Before I could hear joes response people were starting to scramble to their seats for it to start.
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He did it. He won the Heisman for LSU.
As walks up to his family section he hugs each of us. When he gets to me he says something unexpected.
"I love you.."- Joe says as he hugs you and moves on to his dad.
He just told me he loves me. We have said this to each other before but something about this time felt different.
As Joe walks up to give his speech all I could do is tear up. This boy has been through so much and has been knocked down so many times and the is finally proving all those people wrong who ever doubted him in his life.
But one thing that I did not expect to see was Joe cry. I have only seen Joe cry a few times, so little that I could count on one hand. This had really meant a lot to him and you couldn't be any prouder of him.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After the ceremony and the walk in Times Square, Joe and I decided to head back to our room to celebrate the win by watching movies and drinking some champagne.
The second the door closed I tackled Joe in a hug to the point where he fell back on the bed. Laughing he quickly turned us over on the be. As quickly as he turned us over he jumped off of me.
"Sorry I don't know what I was thinking doing that"- Joe said as he starts to take off his shoes.
"Its fine, You did nothing wrong."- you said
"Im gonna go take a shower right quick, okay?"- you said walking over to the bathroom.
"Okay I'm going to my parents room to do the same."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sitting in the bed with Joe you had laughs and mini tickle fights. But as the night went on you had not idea what was about to happen.
"Okay so now that this movie is over I would like to show you a very important video."-joe says grabbing his computer.
"It's not a sex tape is it?"- you say with semi seriousness.
"No no not even close!"-Joe says laughing at you.
"Oh okay."- you say getting comfortable to see what his is about to show you.
"okay, watch"- Joe says starting the video.
The video consisted of memories of me and Joe from when we first met to literally a few hours ago.
"Joe that was so sweet, but why?"-you say looking at him.
"Y/n, you have been in my life since I can remember. Not a single bad memory with you, if anything you make the bad memories seen not so bad. You have been there for me through the really highs but you have also been there for me when I've hit rock bottom. You make me a better person and I'm grateful to have you as a best friend. And I know this might sound weird but I really don't want to be friends with you anymore. I want to be more than friends. So, with that Will you be my girlfriend?"- Joe says as you have tears in your eyes.
Joe... You don't know how long I've been waiting for you to say that sentence to me."-I say hugging him like my like depended on it.
"So I'll take that as a yes?"- Joe says
"Yes Joe i'll be your girlfriend."- I say leaning in to kiss his lips.
Right as our lips are about to touch Joe pulls away leaving me confused.
"What's wrong?"- You ask looking at him.
"Nothing, but before I forget I have to give you something."- Joe says reaching into the nightstand.
"Here."- he hands me the box
"Joe you didn't have to get me anything."
"Just open the box baby"
I open the box and see a pendant necklace with a "J" on it.
"joey... Its beautiful."
"Just like you. I wanted you to have it even when we are not physically with each other. Look inside."
I look inside and see a photo of me and Joe on the day we met and and an empty side. "What's this side for?"- I say referring to the empty side.
"It's for you to fill, I want you to fill it with your favorite memory of us. I doesn't have to be right now. You don't even have to tell me. just do it when you're ready."- Joe says as I nod.
"Can you put it on me?"-You say turning round.
"Ofc."- He says putting the necklace on me.
"oh and Joe?"
"Yea?"
"I love you too."- I say smiling.
Little did Joe know you filled that empty spot years later with the photo of you him and your baby boy the day you gave birth.
The first pic of the new year!!! Also the start of the Taylor imagines. If you have any recommendations let me know. <3
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bad idea!
kate bishop x fem reader
No matter how much of a bad idea it may seem to go back to Kate Bishop, you can’t help it. You’re like a moth to a flame
inspired by a girl in red song, mentions of sex but no actual smut, fwb/ex gf kate, dumb lesbians, kind of just a drabble icl, 1.1k words
NOTE: my requests are open!!!!! send me anything you’d like!!!!!! i can’t guarantee i’ll get it done but you’re welcome to send things in🫶
It was such a bad idea to get involved with Kate Bishop again.
It’s so stupid that this even happened. Every fucking time things end between you you’re resolute in your position, you’re determined that this will truly be the end, but Kate Bishop has this way of drawing people back in. You’ve fallen victim to her strange unspeakable allure more times than you can count. That’s how you ended up here in the first place.
Yes, okay, fine, she’s good at sex. When she sends a you up? text you can’t help the way your heart beats a little faster at the thought of the chase resuming between the two of you, of cat and mouse returning to flirtatious antics with one inevitable end. No matter how many times you try to escape it, you and Kate Bishop always seem to find your way back to one another, only to sourly part again and leave you even more lost than you were before. You don’t know what to do. You can’t fucking stand her. You can’t get away from her. You’re not sure you want to.
Nobody else has ever touched you in the way she does, or as well as she can. No matter how much you pretend otherwise she is the one you crave; she’s the one on your mind whilst the hands of others roam your body. You have this deep, innate, carnal need for her — for everything about her — not just her fingers and her tongue and her strap but also her whiny raspy voice first thing in the morning (she, annoyingly adorably, hates mornings) and the sloppy neck kisses she delivers to say goodnight and the kind of sheepish shifty look whenever she brings you a token of her love. The latter doesn’t happen much anymore, not since the two of you broke up — since she dumped you — which on paper ought to mean the two of you no longer see each other. And yet more nights than not one of you has crawled back to and somehow ended up in the other’s bed. It seems you’re both full of bad ideas, and yet neither of you can get enough.
When you wake up in her room again, the purple wallpaper adorned with medals and trophies and Hawkeye posters all too familiar by this point, that feeling of heaviness settles in your stomach. For fuck’s sake. You’re always disappointed in yourself, the morning after. There’s a reason the two of you aren’t together anymore — so why do you keep waking up in each other’s beds?
You look down at where Kate Bishop is nestled against your chest, still bare-skinned against you after last night’s activities. It’s irritating how beautiful she is even when she’s asleep. She looks so lovely in your arms you can almost imagine that being your reality again, until you harshly remind yourself Kate doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want you like that, she broke up with you and the only reason she sees you anymore is for sex. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, it makes your stomach turn, and suddenly you want nothing more than to be away from her.
Crawling out of Kate’s bed when she’s wrapped herself around you like this is never easy. Perhaps in unconsciousness, in her most vulnerable state, she’s more reluctant to let you go. Sometimes you feel a little guilty leaving before she wakes so often, but you have to, for your own good — for the good of both of you. When you’re not fucking you don’t really know what to say to her. Hey, you were the love of my life, why’d you dump my ass? No thanks. She has these big blue puppy-dog eyes that just make you feel horrible about the whole thing, and everything you’ve ever done, ever. No, you’re better off leaving now.
“You’re leaving,” says a small, scratchy voice from behind you, as you stumble about in the half-dark of the room locating your clothing. It’s a statement, not a question, but she still doesn’t sound entirely certain.
You don’t really know how to respond, you’re kind of wishing this wasn’t happening and rushing to find your other sock so you can get out of here, so you just let out a kind of low grunt of acknowledgement.
“You always leave,” Kate responds, and you don’t have to turn around to know that she’s pouting a little. You can hear it in her voice. The fact you can tell, that you know her well enough to tell only pisses you off even further, and you let out a kind of bitter laugh.
“It’s not like you fucking want me here.”
“That’s not true.” She pauses, and you hear the little noises she makes as she sits up and stretches. “I do want you here. I keep bringing you back, don’t I?”
“Yeah, cause a good fuck is all I’m worth to you,” you say angrily, before closing your eyes and tilting your head back. No. You can’t let her ass ruin your day when you have so much shit to do.
“No, that’s not true,” she tries, whilst at the same time you groan “I can’t do this, Kate.”
She sits up a little straighter, eyes wide, voice an octave higher. “W— what? Can’t do what?”
“I can’t do you.”
“But I— you keep— you keep coming back, though.”
This hits a nerve, and you laugh incredulously, finally turning around to face her. She’s looking up at you in the semi-darkness of the room, her face unreadable. “Yeah, and I shouldn’t. It’s fucking pathetic. I can’t get over my ex so I’ll sleep with her whenever she asks. It’s not— it’s— Kate, I can’t keep doing this.” You bury your head in your hands.
Vaguely, you hear the gentle rustle of fabric in Kate’s side of the room. You just need a moment to collect yourself and you’ll get the fuck out of here.
You hear her footsteps padding towards you, and you open your eyes again. She’s haphazardly tugged on a shirt and is stood before you, bare-legged, almost doleful in expression. “I’m sorry,” she says, barely a whisper. “This is all— I keep fucking up. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t know what you want from me,” you say tiredly.
“I— I don’t know. Everything. You.” She steps towards you uncertainly.
“Kate,” you say, and you’re not sure who moved first, but within moments her lips are on yours again. When she tugs you back towards the bed, you let her, your stomach churning with the indescribable sensation of simultaneous adoration and angst that her touch fills you with. She’s so pretty it actually physically hurts.
God, you’re totally fucked.
#kate bishop x reader#kate bishop x fem reader#kate bishop x female reader#kate bishop x you#hailee steinfeld x reader#hailee steinfeld#kate bishop#bisexual kate bishop#lesbian kate bishop#gxg#god i love kate bishop#your honour she’s a woman kisser#marvel#hawkeye#yeah
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Send That Picture Promise I'm A Keep It | Kylian Mbappé
Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x f.Reader
Warnings: Fluff, sexting, masturbation (m.)
Summary: What’s it like texting when your husband is a really busy athlete?
A/N: Hello, everyone! I’ve been trying to finish up all my old requests before I get to the new ones. I was actually supposed to post this May 5th, and its now June, oops. I’ve seen all your prompts for the new Kylian smut, and I love all your ideas. I’ll try my best to get them done because for once I have nothing to this summer except find a job, lmao. I swear having a job ready for when you graduate is not easy at all. Uni should’ve prepared us better for the post-grad life. Anyways, as always don’t forget to like, comment, and repost! Enjoy, lovelies ❣️
Kylian: bébé
Kylian: bébééé
Kylian: bééébééé
Kylian: béééébéééééééééé
Kylian: Arrête de m’ignorer 😢 (stop ignoring me)
Kylian: jte veux (i want you)
Kylian: j besoins de toi (i need you)
Kylian: envoie t seins (send your tits)
The incessant buzzing of your phone that was conveniently located in your back pocket was proving to bea major distraction as you were trying your best to follow what your boss was trying to say. You knew who it was without even having to look, the culprit - a certain brown-eyed professional athlete who was called away on international duty.
While you wished you could be there to cheer him on as France played against Gibraltar in Faro, you were unfortunately tied up at work as you had to deal with an important client. As a divorce lawyer, you were constantly surprised to learn just how selfish and idiotic some people could be. You’d think a firefighter would be too busy trying to save people to have two mistress with three children each. Alas, humanity never failed to disappoint. To add fuel to the fire, this particular client absolutely refused to comprise on anything and insisted that he still loved his wife despite being a piece of shit.
Seeing all these cases, you were grateful that Kylian wasn't like that. To be honest, in the beginning of your relationship, you were very self-conscious as footballers were known to be cheaters. A few people (who were no longer in your life) warned you that your husband would inevitably turn out like most people in his profession and leave you for a model. Kylian, on the other hand, turned out to be nothing like that. He was consistently loving, truthful, and patient with you. The media's attempts to tear your relationship apart still pained you deeply, especially the heartbroken look in Kylian's eyes as you shouted at him, accusing him without even giving him a chance to explain.
But returning to the present, your boss finally released you from the conversation as her secretary reminded her that her husband was waiting on the line. Your boss, an intimidating woman whom you respected greatly, was the only one who hired you straight after graduation, despite most law firms turning you away. You suspected they viewed you as nothing more than a trophy wife destined to retire after having a few kids. Céleste Beauregard was the only one who gave you a chance, and for that you would be eternally grateful.
Walking back to your desk, you pull out your phone and look at the messages Kylian send you. Letting out a snort at his antics, you reply.
You: t’a pas un match à jouer toi? (don’t you have a match to play?)
Kylian: c koi le rapport bb?? (what’s the correlation baby??)
You: tu c ke chui au travail kyky (you know I’m at work kyky)
Kylian: allez bb juste une photo 🥺 (cmon baby its just one picture)
You: ds t rêve (in your dreams)
Kylian: fais pas ca (don’t do this)
Kylian: arrête de faire ta difficile (stop being so difficult)
You: t un gros pervert Mbappé 🤢 (you’re a big pervert Mbappé)
You: j d’autres choses à faire ds la vie ke de t’envoyer d pics de mes seins franchement (I have better things to do than send you pics of my tits seriously)
You: t’a pas déjà d pics? (don’t you already have some?)
Kylian: j’en veux d fresh svp (I need new ones pls)
You: tu m’énerve (you’re annoying)
In moments like these, you couldn't help but appreciate having a private office with tinted glass. Glancing around cautiously to ensure no one was present, you carefully unbuttoned your dress shirt, unveiling a seductive, lacy red push-up bra. With one hand, you delicately squeezed your breasts together, your cheeks flushed crimson as you quickly snap a picture and send it to him.
Buttoning your shirt, you feel a mixture of excitement and anticipation, as you nervously bit your lip, holding your breath as you observed the three blinking dots in your message thread. You couldn't help but giggle at doing something so risky at your workplace.
Kylian: putain bb chui bandé 🤤 (fuck bb i’m hard)
Kylian: si tt là ça serait parti en branlette espagnole 😏 (if you were here I would’ve fucked your tits)
You: t dégeulasse 🙄 (youre disgusting)
Kylian: tu m’aimes pareille ❤️ (you love me tho)
You: vrm pas (not really)
You: envoie moi t seins toi (you send me your tits)
Kylian: jpeux tenvoyer qq chose de mieux 😘 (i’ll send you something better)
Your heart raced with anticipation, a symphony of palpitations echoing in your chest, as you waited impatiently for your husband to send you a picture of himself.
As the picture popped up, you felt liquid heat pool in your panties as your breathing deepened looking at the nude Kylian had sent you.
The dim lights showed his hand wrapped firmly around his throbbing cock. Your gaze was fixated on the engorged head of his member, a vibrant hue of crimson, as a drop of precum bubbled on top. You could feel yourself throbbing as you feasted on the photo. Waves of pleasure surged through your core, causing your body to pulse with an insatiable hunger.
You: merde kyky ta pas le droit de m’envoyer sa quand tu c ke jpeux rien faire (shit kyky you can’t just send me this when you know i cant do anything about it)
Kylian: enjoy bb 😘
You: ??
You looked at his message confused, not really sure what he meant. A few minutes later, he sends you a video that ignited a blush so intense it flushed the very roots of your hair.
In the video, he moved with tantalizing slowness, his strong, veiny arms caressing his length with deliberate, seductive strokes. Each movement of his arm drove your senses ablaze. The air around you thickened with the sound of his sinful moans, weaving a symphony of pleasure that sent shivers down your spine.
Your eyes were fixated on the mesmerizing sight, unable to tear themselves away from the erotic scene playing on your small screen. Your breath hitched as he swiped a bead of precum, his fingers glistening with the essence of his desire.
It was when a primal groan escaped his soft, pink lips with the sound of your name on the tip of his tongue that sent a blast of ecstasy through your body, electrifying every nerve ending with longing.
Unable to contain the building heat within you, you instinctively pressed your thighs together, seeking relief from the persistent throbbing that radiated from your slick core.
The video was two minutes long, and you were burning up so fast. As you continued to watch the captivating video, your senses became heightened, every nuance and detail etching itself into your memory. The sheer eroticism of the scene, the raw sensuality exuding from his every movement, unleashed a whirlwind of desire within you.
With every gasp and moan that escaped his lips, you felt the reverberations deep within your core. His sinful utterance of your name was like a symphony of passion, intertwining with the symphony of your racing heart.
As his fingers swept across his velvety skin, spreading the intoxicating precum, the ache between your thighs intensified. The throbbing in your core demanded attention, aching for release. The tension built, and with every second, you grew closer to the precipice of ecstasy.
It was almost a bittersweet torment, because as much as the video set aflame your desire for him, it also intensified the ache of longing for his physical presence. With a final, lingering stroke, the video came to an end, leaving you breathless and craving more.
You: t vrm cruel kyky (you’re so cruel kyky)
Kylian: 😘😘 mmmhhh jte vois samedi? (mmmhhh see you saturday?)
You: non, viens mtn 🥺 (no, come now)
You: jte veux trop (i need you too much)
Kylian: hahah, tu c ke jpp princesse (hahah you know i can't princess)
Kylian: mais jvai marquer un but pour toi bb (but i’ll score a goal for you bb)
You: t mieux ❤️ 🙄 (you better)
You: jtm booboo ❤️ (ily booboo)
Kylian: jtm fort mon coeur ❤️ (ily so much my heart)
You: tu veux que je t’amène qq chose bb? Je c ke tu vas rester à l'hôtel avant le match au stade (do you want me to bring you something bb? I know you’re staying at a hotel before game at the stadium?)
Kylian: ouii, t seins 🤤 (yess, your boobs)
You: ugh bye 🙄
Your playful exasperation was evident as you bid farewell to the teasing suggestion. The exchange left a lingering sense of anticipation and passion in the air, as you both were eagerly waiting to see each other again. The thought of being in his arms, of holding him and kissing him, made you long for him so bad. Looking at the time, you quickly packed your stuff and rushed home, excited to be with him.
#kylian mbappe#kylian mbappe fanfic#kylian mbappe smut#kylian imagines#kylian mbappé#kylian mbappe imagine#kylian x reader#footballer blurb#psg#footballer fanfiction#kylian mbappe x you#kylian mbappe x y/n#mbappe#footballer x reader#footballer imagine
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King&Prince 8
Steve was glad for the boots, but he wasn't about to extend any gratitude to the king for the bare minimum. He was still essentially a prisoner. It begged the question of why he wasn't in a cell anymore, but Steve wouldn't complain. His current situation was a lot better. But the boots came with a price and the cost of having them was apparently following the king around.
"How's your foot?"
"What?"
"Your foot from the-the cut didn't look too bad and you're walking now so...?"
Steve's eyes narrowed. He didn't understand why the king sounded so nervous. "My foot's fine. I can walk. I was able to walk yesterday, but you wouldn't hear of it. Do I look made of glass?"
King Edward paused in the hallway. "....No, you don't."
"Good. Because I'm not. I'm not going to break from some little cut or anything you've got planned for me."
"What do you think I have planned?"
"I haven't the clearest idea", Steve said. "But I'm not fragile. You can do your worst-"
"My worst?", he chuckled. "Little prince, you haven't seen my worst. You haven't seen my bad side at all. But maybe it's about time you've witnessed the worst of your father."
Steve was given a coat and he was led outside. The skies were cloudy and the air was crisp, but the frigid atmosphere was beginning to melt away. It made Steve realize how long he'd been locked away. The frost was melting and spring would be here soon.
Wait...
"You people have warm weather here? You have spring and..." He almost said 'sun' but to do so seemed ridiculous now.
"We get all four seasons here, you know, when the royal budget allows it."
That almost sounded like a joke. Steve frowned. He didn't like when his ignorance was thrown back at him like that. But really, how could he know otherwise? This was supposed to be the land of darkness. Where the wrong shadow could be filled with teeth. Everything was out to kill you here.
The king led him to the stables and for a moment, Steve saw hope. If he got a horse, he could get away. Even if the king gave chase, he could get pretty far with a horse. And Steve was justly proud of his riding skills. His hopes were dashed when the king only asked for a single horse.
"Am I to walk beside your horse wherever we go?", he asked, arms crossed. He imagined being paraded around, perhaps led on a leash like a trophy of war.
"No, Harrington. I expect you to ride with me."
Steve was so stunned, the horse was saddled and the king had already mounted by the time he came back to himself.
"You...you can't be serious! I can't-you can't expect me to-"
"Oh, I do. Now hop to it. We have a lot to see before it gets dark."
The thought of being outside the castle walls when night fell was what prompted Steve to mount the horse. But even so, he refused to touch the king. He instead, dug his fingers into the part of the saddle he could find purchase and held tight with his legs.
"You're going to need to touch me eventually."
"Over one of our dead bodies."
It occurred to Steve how easy it would have been to kill him like this. He'd kept a utensil with the idea of using it to threaten someone before. Why hadn't he done it again? Even just a fork could be deadly if placed in the right area. And here, the king who had terrorized his family was riding with his back to him. If he had just the right thing, he could have ended it all now. But he was without a weapon. And Steve wasn't so stupid that he thought he could choke out a monarch right here in the courtyard and get away with it.
It wasn't easy to ride with barely a grip on anything, but Steve's legs were nothing if not strong, and they helped keep him upright as they left through the castle gates.
"Is that Eddie?", Robin noted, watching from a window.
"Sure looks like it", Gareth replied.
"But he's riding so slow?"
Gareth took a closer look and his eyes bugged out of his head. "Is he riding with the prince?!"
Robin's eyes narrowed. "I mean, I did tell him to be gentle with the guy. It's nice having some actual muscle that I can boss around. I didn't think he'd take me seriously."
Back outside, Eddie was steering the horse carefully and cautiously. He wasn't trying to give the prince special treatment, but he didn't want him flying off the back of the horse either. The road from the castle led right to the capital city, but Eddie didn't want to go there. Even looking like he was now, Steve would attract attention simply because he was riding with the king. He wasn't in the mood to prevent a stoning.
Instead, he took them off the path, to the forests that spread out over his land. Steve was blessedly quiet during most of the trip, probably taking it all in. From his question about the weather, Eddie surmised a unhealthy dose of propaganda was fighting against being a first hand witness. Eddie had heard all the scary stories that people told to explain his existence, his connection with his creatures, and his kingdom in general. He could probably count on one hand the things people got right.
"I've been fighting with your family for a long time. Do you know why?"
Steve blinked, surprised by the question when they had been riding in silence. "Because we've always been enemies."
"But do you know why?"
Steve's brow furrowed. "Your kingdom sprung from the darkest depths to challenge ours. If we left you alone, we'd be consumed. All you want is destruction. To turn everything into a desolate wasteland."
The king chuckled. They got deeper into the forest. With how cloudy it was, the thick of the woods began to get darker. Eddie didn't need to ask if Steve's mind had been changed. The evidence was already presented. If he was too stubborn to see it, he'd be a lost cause. All Eddie needed to see was how he'd react to the actual monsters used to scare and frighten.
There was a cave ahead, pitch black on the inside. The horse stopped before even Eddie ordered it, sensing what was within.
"Your people have always been afraid of my kind. And I can't fault them for being afraid of what they don't know." He dismounted and held a hand out for Steve. Steve ignored his hand and got down himself, doing his best not to stumble. Between his bandaged foot and slightly numb legs, he somehow managed.
"We know enough."
"Do you? So you've seen and can identify all the different creatures under my command?"
"I don't need to identify a monster. I just need to know how to kill it."
"And there it is! Knowledge in the name of decimation, instead of knowledge itself. Or, if you can imagine, progress." The king cackled and Steve felt like he was being made fun of again.
"Why did you bring me here? What's in the cave?"
"I think you already know, Harrington. You're smarter than you look." Eddied took the horses reins and tied it to a tree off to the side so it wouldn't run off.
For a split second, Steve thought about the numerous rocks on the ground and how he could just grab one and-
Why did he always have these thoughts? How often had he stopped himself from being more violent. Every moment that went by without Steve physically assaulting the king, he heard his father's voice calling him useless and weak. If his father and been captured, King Edward would be dead by now. His father would have never been taken at all.
King Edward went to the mouth of the cave and reached a hand out. There was a chittering sound, a creature coming forth. The hairs on Steve's body stood on end and he reached for a sword that wasn't there.
"If you've brought me here to kill me-"
"Shh", the king shushed, but it was unclear who he was speaking to. To Steve? Or to the grey, four legged thing coming out of the black. The king knelt, hand held out, letting whatever it was, get closer to him. Steve had seen drawings, depictions of what lurked in these lands. But nothing prepared him for how the face opened slightly, revealing a hint of the rows of teeth that lied within. It was like a flower made of nightmares.
Steve had been frozen in place as he watched the king pet the creature like it was a dog.
"Tell me, prince. Do you like spiders? Or rats? Or even wasps and flies?"
"Those are all pests", Steve answered, though his voice wasn't as firm as he would like it, guard up and attention all on the two monsters before him.
"And yet, each of them as a specific niche in our world. A role to play in our ecosystem. And it is our ecosystem." The king turned his body slightly to look at Steve, taking in his tense stance. "You can relax. If my intention was to kill you, I wouldn't have wasted my breath talking to you."
"As if anything you do has a rhyme or reason. Nothing about you or this kingdom makes any sense!"
"Or is it that you refuse to see reason?" The king sent the creature back into the cave. "It's about time you take the blinders off and see my kingdom for what it is."
Steve shook his head. "A snake may very well be part of an ecosystem but its venom is still dangerous. Killing those things before they over take us is the only thing that makes any sense. That still makes sense."
"And I could say the same about your people. Kill them all and snuff you out before you can destroy my kingdom and my people."
"Then why don't you!?"
"Because that's not what I want!"
His words echoed between the trees. He stepped towards Steve but the prince stood his ground. If this was where he died, he'd do it with his head held high. The king didn't stop until they were toe to toe.
"I'll say this for your benefit. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it the by now." His eyes glanced at something behind Steve.
Curious and confused, Steve looked around to see a horde of those grayish monsters assembled behind him and in his shock, he nearly jumped into the king's arms, hands clinging to his clothing.
"Didn't take much for you to touch me after all."
Steve's blood went from running cold to being startling hot. So hot his hand moved before his brain. The crack of his hand slapping across the king's face echoed.
Part 10
Tag Team
@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble @jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24 @justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void @nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue @hornedqueenofhell @anne-bennett-cosplayer @moomkin77
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Old Money pt. 2
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x show jumper!reader
Faceclaim: Jessica Springsteen
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yourusername
Bahrain
Liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, usajumping and 50,183 others
yourusername First half of the week completed! So proud of @/carlossainz55 for bringing home P1. Now it's my turn 😉
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carlossainz55 All because of my good luck charm! Can't wait to be with you this week
yourusername Te amo ❤️
scuderiaferrari Make sure you bring that cornicello for luck!
yourusername Putting it in my jacket pocket as we speak
charles_leclerc Yn Carlos almost left without me tell him that's not fair
yourusername He says he's sorry and he'll give you the window seat on the flight to Jeddah
charles_leclerc All is forgiven
usajumping Carry that energy into this week!
blackfireproofs AHA YES THE POWER COUPLE RETURNS
parispodium I have been looking forward to this for longer than I am willing to admit
carlossainz55
Doha
Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 289,203 others
carlossainz55 My love! So excited to have been able to watch @/yourusername take the top step this week. Two more trophies to add to the shelf
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yourusername We're gonna need a bigger shelf
landonorris That's such a flex. Don't spare us lowlings
yourusername One day you'll get a shelf too
landonorris You know what
carlossainz55 Easy, you two
charles_leclerc I never knew these could be so stressful
carlossainz55 I thought you were gonna chew through your own lip
parispodium Oh hun, welcome to the world of competitive show jumping
scuderiaferrari If you come back into the garage smelling like a stable one more time, Carlos
yourusername
Jeddah
Liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 48,102 others
yourusername Managed to catch him off guard 🥰 Another great weekend @/carlossainz55! I love you so much
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carlossainz55 Always manage to do better when I know I have you watching me
yourusername And you always manage to give me a good show
charles_leclerc What do I have to do to get you over to my side of the garage
yourusername Muffins. Chocolate chip muffins. Specifically made by your mother.
charles_leclerc Deal.
scuderiaferrari Royal Couple of Maranello. Calling it right now
chiliconcarlos So like. To what Gods do we sacrifice to in order to get boyfriends like Carlos...
parispodium IDK but when you find out let us know
landonorris Okay, yes, Charles' mom's muffins are actually the best things ever but what do I have to give you in order to get you in the McLaren garage...
yourusername Wear Ferrari red
yourusername
Melbourne
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yourusername His face when I asked if we could do a shoey after his win will never get old
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carlossainz55 In my defense, it came out of the blue
yourusername It was a valid question!
danielricciardo Are we doing shoeys? I'm on my way
landonorris Wait for me I got little legs!
yourusername I cannot believe I'm seeing this rn
parispodium God, they are. Goals.
blackfireproofs Yn's ability to bring the entire grid together will never not amaze me
scuderiaferrari We're gonna need you in the garage every weekend. We don't make the rules
carlossainz55 I support this message
carlossainz55
Miami Beach
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carlossainz55 Nothing quite like being the date of the winner
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yourusername My loudest cheerleader
carlossainz55 It helps if you always have something to cheer for
teamkpf @/yourusername Are you gonna leave some wins for the rest of us this season?
yourusername Only if you're nice to me
scuderiaferrari @/usajumping Are we gonna have to work out a custody agreement with these two?
usajumping I think we're rapidly approaching that line, yes
blackfireproofs The way that Ferrari is liking all her posts too
parispodium I'm new to F1, does Ferrari do the Red Bull thing of having a load of different athletes across a bunch of different sports?
blackfireproofs They don't that I know of but they should start. Yn would be such a grab if they could get her name to their brand officially
yourusername
Madrid
Liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 39,634 others
yourusername A little downtime never hurt anybody
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carlossainz55 Rest and recharge, ready to win again
yourusername Gotta fill up that new shelf one way or another
landonorris Why wasn't I invited
carlossainz55 You wanted to come on the romantic weekend?
landonorris ...yes
yourusername Invest in some earplugs
blackfireproofs They are the blueprint I swear
chiliwilicarlos I'm absolutely feral for them. One of these days I'm going to go off the edge and not come back
carlossainz55
Emilia-Romagna
Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 289,103 others
carlossainz55 Nothing quite beats eating freshly made pasta across from the love of your life
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yourusername Crazy, it seems like we had the same night
carlossainz55 Almost like you were my date or something. Weird
landonorris Unfair. You heard how much I was craving pasta and now you do this to me
carlossainz55 When you finally find a girlfriend then you can come on the pasta dates
yourusername Oh we have a few more years of peace then
landonorris Yn you're so nice to me
blackfireproofs I will never recover from them
yourusername
Maranello
Liked by carlossainz55, teamkpf, scuderiaferrari and 7,293 others
yourusername 👀
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scuderiaferrari
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scuderiaferrari We are thrilled to announce our new partnership with @/yourusername! Please welcome Yn Yln to the Ferrari athlete family!
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yourusername So thrilled to start this journey! Thank you thank you!
carlossainz55 My girl 🥰
charles_leclerc Another teammate to annoy! Best Christmas ever
yourusername Slightly less thrilled
carlossainz55 It's August...
parispodium This was spoken into existence
yourusername
Milan
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yourusername First event as a Ferrari athlete! Could not have had a better date either 😉
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scuderiaferrari Brought a certain glow to the red carpet!
carlossainz55 You're a much better date than Charles, mi amor
charles_leclerc I take offense to that. Deep, deep offense
yourusername It's okay Charles, you're always welcome as the third wheel
landonorris I thought I was third wheel
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All photos from Pinterest, Instagram, or Google Images
#f1 fanfic#f1 social media au#f1 x reader#f1 x you#social media au#carlos sainz social media au#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz fanfic#f1 imagine
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‧˚⊹ 𝗱𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 ଓ :: 𝗠𝗩𝟭 ‧₊˚⤾
— you are reading: part two !!
╭╯ pairing . . . max verstappen x fem! driver! reader ) ┊ summary . . . you're unstoppable, a machine. and people dont like winners ) ┊ genre . . . angst/fluff ) ╰╮ warning . . . X )
( fic masterlist | general masterlist ) ( requests ) ( taglist )
RACE DAY
Sunday May 8
2023 — Circuit de Monaco, Monaco
The crowds of cameras and team members cleared a path for you to the edge of the pool. You held the first place trophy in your hand tightly as you began running. Once you were close enough, you did a flip, spinning into the pool. You hugged your trophy as you fell into the pool head first.
Quickly resurfacing, you covered your face with your elbow to hide your face while you took the mask off to replace it. A spare was handed to you by Jj. A few other mechanics and team members jumped in. Together they lifted you up on their shoulders.
"Seventeen!" Everyone chanted together. You raised your trophy high as the cameras took photos. "Thank you so much everyone!" You shouted happily as you got out of the pool, sharing a hug with your team principle. "Lets go out after this, one seven." Some one suggested patting your back.
"I shouldn't. I don't really drink." You explained hesitantly when you were finally walking back to the garage to prepare for the duties ahead. "Come on, it'll be fun."
"I really should—" "—Seventeen." a voice caught you off, turning to the Dutch boy, he patted your back firmly. "Great driving out there." "Thank you, Max. You did—" "Max you should join us!" You pursed your lips at the situation you were finding yourself squeezed into.
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Max woke up the next day with a groan, how he had gotten back in his bed was a mystery to him. With a glass of water and a pill sitting on his night stand, there was diffidently someone who brought him back. What he didn't expect was that person to still be there, making breakfast.
After swallowing the pills, Max was greeted the smelling a delicious aroma. Following it the the kitchen, his eyes find a woman working over the stove, one that he didn't remember from the other night. "Oh, you're up earlier than I expected." Turning to face him, Max makes eye contact with a familiar face that he couldn't quite put a finger on.
". . . It's me." You broke the silence after a few moments. "Who?" Max stuttered confused. "Seventeen." You clarified shaking your head. "Surprise I guess." You shrugged plating the vegie omelette. "Finally seeing the face that you've been competing against for most of your childhood."
"Yeah . . . —Wait how'd you get in here?" "You begged me to take you home and cook for you the next morning. So, your wish has been fulfilled." You pushed the plate towards him before turning off the stove. "Thank you." He replied hesitantly sitting and starting to eat quietly.
'What else can she do?' he thought, taking another bite ( which meant he liked it ). "Do you need anything— oh hello." You reached down petting the cat that rubbed against your ancle. "Max, do you need anything else or?" "No, I'm good." He said with a mouth full. "Alright, I will be going now before Aussie drives Mkayla nuts."
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MEDIA DAY
Thursday June 16
2023 — Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Canada
"Wait what are we doing? I wasn't told anything." Max asked you as he sat on the table opposite side to you. "We are- what's it called again. My English isn't that good." You muttered looking at the persons behind the camera trying to remember.
"It's umm . . . We have to try and guess the flavours of the Redbulls." You explained as someone placed a tray with see through plastic cups in 2 rows. "Oh easy." Max nodded, leaning forward looking at his row of the energy drinks.
"I don't drink red bull that often so I'm probably going to lose. I know Max is a- umm, wow where is my English? 'Txt'?" [Alcoholic but to energy drinks, what do you call that? Energy drink addiction? How do you say that in English].
"Oh, really? Huh-" You broke out in small laughter seeing your teammate eager to down the shots presented to him. "Oh God." You cursed after taking a sip from the first cup. "That's enough sugar to last me a year." Max laughed at you, watching you scrunch your face.
"This is . . ." Max raised his hand impatiently knowing the answer. "Max seems to know. Why don't you tell us?" "June berry." He answered without hesitation. Point after point you let max score more even though you recognized a few flavours.
He of course let you take a guess first, but you never gave an answer. "Um . . . The blue on-" "-RAHH!"
A scream made its way out of your mouth as you suddenly felt someone grab your shoulders firmly from behind. Leaning your forehead on the table embarrassed, you listened as the crew members and your teammate laughed their asses of, along with the unmistakable laugh of the honey badger from behind you.
"I'm so sorry, Sent-" You quickly cut him off by smacking his chest, an embarrassed smile reaching your eyes. "Asshole." You chuckled standing up and greeting Daniel with a hug which he gladly returned. "Oh I love her hugs, they're like gold and heaven mixed into one." Daniel smiled patting your back gently.
"Hey fancy Maxie." Daniel greeted sharing some sort of secret handshake with the blond. "I'll let you guys get back to what you were doing, sorry guys." Daniel apologized to the people behind the camera before waving goodbye.
You and Max sat back in your seats for a hot 5 seconds before you both erupted in laughter. Trying to miserably form sentences during your wheezing session. "How loud-" *wheeze* "how loud was it?"
"Joel from the garage texted me asking if Max killed someone." A crew member answered earning a few more silent laughs from you and the Dutch, both if you falling out of your seats, failing to catch your breath.
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"I'll introduce us both and you can explain what we're doing." You decided, Max giving you a quick nod in agreement. "Hello Redbull addicts and non Redbull addicts." You greeted once you were given the go, already earning a laugh from your Teammate. "This is Seventeen." You pointed at Max. "She's very pretty and you all should love her. And I'm Max Verstappen, a Dutch boy with DRS issues and bad haircuts."
You weren't even half way through and Max had dropped, slipping on the ice you two were balancing on. "Oof, that must hurt . . . Well that is a DNF for seventeen. The first one in her career, let's hope she's ok."
Since finishing media tasks, marketing decided why not do some Canadian stuff when in Canada. The result was you and Max running after each other on ice, skating like idiots. There wasn't really a goal or a challenge. Just you two having fun and getting closer.
"Max is pretty isn't he?" Max joked, playing along with the switched roles. You, in the background, flexed your muscles pretending to be Max. "I have a lot muscle." You tried to imitate, making Max hold his stomach as he held on to the railings.
Soon after, you found yourself holding Max from his ankle while he laid on the floor, dragging him along as you glided on the ice. "HOW DO YOU- HOW DO YOU STO-" "OW!" Max complained once you toppled over him after hitting into the wall.
The next thing you tried to do was wrestle with him, trying to tackle or pin each other down. To the camera it looked funny, two kids throwing hands and pulling at each other as they tried to stay stable on their knees.
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"Introduce yourself, please."
I go by Seventeen when it comes to racing, I'm 22 years old. I drive for Oracle RedBull Racing. And unlike other drivers, I'm the best because I know I'm the best. There is no argument there. I am unbeatable and my results prove it.
"Can you tell us the story about the story of your number?"
I chose the number seventeen because it's very significant to me, it's the age of which I made my karting debut as 'seventeen', and the number as is a lucky charm for me and my family. It's also the number of former F1 racer Khadija El-Gamazi who is a big role model for me. And as for the one, it's there to foreshadow my future championship titles.
"What inspired you to take up racing and become a professional driver?"
I happen to be of a descent of a long blood line of racers, dating back to the first f1 grand Prix, le mans, rallying, drifting, and much more. I wasn't really into the sport as much as the rest of my family. At 4 one of my family members were tinkering with a kart and told me to give it a test drive. I didn't want to get off. The biggest inspiration for me to stay in the car was Marwa El-Gamazi, f1 test driver.
"How do you manage to maintain anonymity and balance your personal life while being a public figure?"
I just do it.
"What is the significance behind your chosen mask, and does it hold any personal meaning to you?"
There is no significance to my mask whatsoever. I just don't want you to see my face for my private reasons. I also don't want to be asked to take selfies while I'm buying groceries.
"How do you handle the pressures and expectations that come with being in the spotlight and racing at such a high level?"
I have a dog.
"Can you share any memorable moments or victories that have been particularly meaningful to you in your career?"
Uhhh . . . Let's see . . . So far they're all just- they're just wins you know? Yes I love winning, but they're all just stepping stones. The only truly memorable ones will be the championship deciders in which I'll be at the top.
"What advice would you give to young girls who dream of becoming professional race car drivers?"
Don't let people give you ****. It's all about self belief, trust, and hard work. You can do anything if you truly believe you can do anything.
"What are your goals and aspirations for the future, both in racing and beyond?"
I want to break all the records that I can.
"Thay must've been boring to watch." You apologized to your PR manager as you walked out of the room Netflix had taken over.
"What happens if they portray me as a villain? I was pretty blunt back there." "Relax we go you coverd." She nodded you with a confident smile. "We got time for a break. You wanna see what's the hype with Tim Hortons? I'll drive!"
"You're a lifesaver Mkayla." You smiled hooking your elbow with hers as you exited the paddock.
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RACE DAY
Thursday June 18
2023 — Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, Canada
You laughed as you chased Christian on the stage, spraying him with champagne. Max came from the other side trapping the team principle between you both as you showered him with the expensive alcohol.
Your laughs filled the air as you pulled Max, Christian, and surprisingly Lando on the top pedestal, side hugging each other. "Redbull gives you?" You asked the crowd. "Wings!" The shouted the answer as the photo was taken.
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RACE DAY
Sunday July 9
2023 — Silverstone Circuit, United Kingdom
Lap 39 :: When you pushed against the brakes, but you felt something snap. Your foot pushing all the way through with no resistance fighting back, sending panic up your spine as you continued to travel at 250 kilometers per hour, pressing the pedal over and over with no avail. "BREAKS! I HAVE NO BREAKS!" You panicked over the radio as you did your best to not crash out on the turn.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" You sweared repeatedly, voice increasing in volume as you did your best to not crash out.
"Sonething is wrong. Is Seventeen okay? She's not breaking on the turns- like at all." Max informed into the radio as he trailed behind you from a safe distance. "She has no breaks. Make sure to keep the lead after she retires, Lando is 2.53 seconds behind."
Oh no.
"But she's never lost a race." He argued, feeling himself frown. 'We can force her to retire' he remembered making his heart sink. "Okay . . . keep me updated on her." "Copy."
Lap 42 :: Your hands were shaking and your face was wet. It wasn't raining, nor was it cold. You felt like you couldn't breathe as you bit and chewed on your nail, watching as the marshals assessed the scene.
"And that is a red flag and a safety car for sector 2." "Let's replay the crash there, and-" "Ooooh." "That must hurt." "Big dissapointed for Seventeen." "This marks the end of her overall 78 plus win streak and her formula one 9 win streak."
Your soul felt empty as you walked into the garage, Mkayla rubbing your back as she walked by your side. "Hey, you did amazing. No one could manage a car without breaks as long and as skilfully as you did. I'm proud of you."
'I'm proud of you.' The words echoed in your ear and it felt wrong. "But I lost." You countered, wrapping your arms around yourself, as she slowly undid the helmet strap and pulled it off.
"There's a whole lot more to racing than winning." She nodded with a smile, pulling your balaclava off handing you the black mask. You put it on without objection as she took a claw clip from her bag putting your hair up in a nice elegant bun.
You sniffed as you wiped your waterfall tears. 10 years of straight wins going down the drain felt like a a shovel in your heart. With each second that passed, it felt emptier and emptier with a hole growing deeper and darker. The only thing you could do now was watch as Max and Norris fought for the Lead, Hamilton comfortable in P3.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Hey." The Dutch winner sat to your side in the back of your garage. You were hugging your knees, watching as the Mechanics cheered and danced around, celebrating yet another team win. "Congrats." You told him, the waterfall in your eyes hadn't stopped since you had gotten out of the car and Max was worried you'd get dehydrated.
"Champaign?" He offered holding the bottle up. "I don't drink, thank you." You shook your head, politely declining. "Really? . . . But you went out with us that day in Monaco." "Yeah, 'no' wasn't really an option at the time. I don't think you remember, but I was your designated driver." You jogged up his head shrugging. "Right. Right . . ."
"I'm sorry . . . About your streak. I know it ment a lot to you." He didn't know why he was apologizing, he won. "Eh. It wasn't your fault." You dismissed. "Now stop hanging out with the mother of depression and go have fun. You deserve it." You nudged his shoulder with a weak smile.
"Are you su-" "Go." You chuckled pushing his shoulder. Max nodded, patting your bicep gently before getting up. "Winner buys dinner." He told you before leaving.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Is that fish?" You looked at his sandwich with a look of disapproval. "Tsk tsk." "What? It's just a sandwich." He defended himself, voice muffled from the fries in his mouth.
"Fish sandwich. Which is even worse than fish." You shook your head in dissapointment, opening your take out box. "This is real food." You pointed at the shawarma starting to eat.
"What's that?" "It's heaven in a box." "Let me try." "Can I have some of the Pepsi in return?" "Deal." You shook hands with him, making the exchange.
The two of you were sitting atop the hood of a rented car, eating silently. Max had bought dinner, him eating McDonald's, and you Lazeez. The two of you had made a small trip to Niagara falls, watching the waterfall as you ate in silence.
"How fast do you think the water travels?" "Faster than Ferrari that's for sure." He commented making you break a small laugh. He sat in silence watching you eat, the small lights coming from the distant post lights and the moon light illuminated your face.
Max felt in debt to you. After all, what had happened today, was his fault. "Stay on her tail." His dad suggested before the race. He didn't think much of it before. Only when his dad congratulated him after the race had he discovered what had happened.
He felt like he sabotaged you, even though his father was the one to. And Max felt too guilty, to tell you, to not make it up to you somehow. He was starting to like you, and he did not want you to go down like that.
"We have a week off till Hungary. Any plans?" "Think I'm gonna go for a family visit. You?" "Not sure really. I just know I'm going to Monaco."
". . . Do you want to come with me? The weather is nice around this time of year." "Where are we going?"
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"You're French?" "I'm not French." You quickly shook your head as you walked through the airport. Max had to conceal his identity, because that would get a lot less attention than both Seventeen and Max Verstappen showing up.
"How do you take your coff- actually never mind. Stay here." You pointed at the chair, setting your suitcase next to his. "Do not get up. Don't take your eyes off the bags." You lectured.
"I'm not 5." He defended, making you chuckle as you pushed the brand-less cap further down his face. "Shh." You hushed before walking to the vending machine.
He listened to you none the less, keeping both bags in his hands while you did what you did. "Cheers." You held out the Redbull can for him once you returned. "Thanks."
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Kart a7mar meen! Roo7 el3ab be3eed!" Your cousin shouted from the living room. "I need a translator!" Max shouted afterwards. Leila and Max were playing fifa, and you were in the kitchen preparing breakfast whilst whispering prayers to keep you patient.
Leila and Max were a chaotic duo that should have not been brought together. With a shared love for football and similar temper, along with the language barrier for the cherry on top, they were driving you nuts.
"I can't even shout to both at them at the same time." You complained to the puppy chewing on a ball while resting between your feet. "Lulu, kefaya l3b. Hati Max we ta3ali. [Enough gaming, lulu. Come here and bring Max. "I heard my name?"
"Putain d'enfer." [fucking hell] you heard the girl cuss as she pulled the blond along from his wrist. "Langue." [Language] You scolded, smacking her wrist that tried to steal from your plate.
You pushed the plate filled with pancakes towards her, making her gasp in excitement. You pushed the veggie and egg plate towards Max, who looked between his plate and Leila's in jealousy.
He tried to steal one of hers, only for his hand to be pushed away as she started eating. "Leila. Meteb2eesh bakhila, ediloh wa7da." [Leila, don't be selfish. Give him one] You scolded her as you pulled a stool for yourself to sit on.
The 8 year old looked at Max warily before holding up a pancake for him. The Dutch tried to take it, only for it to be pulled away from his grasp. "Hey." He huffed folding his arms. "She wants to feed you." You explained. "It's a cultural thing. If you're gonna eat out of our plate, we're gonna hand feed you."
"Oh . . ." Max hesitantly leaned down, opening his mouth. Leila gently fed him, keeping her free hand under his mouth to catch any crumbs. You couldn't help but snap a photo quietly, a small smile spreading on your face.
Max and Leila had quickly become best of friends somehow. While walking through the streets of Paris, the Dutch driver carried your cousin on his shoulders, sharing a crep with her.
Looking through shirts, because you were buying a whole new closet for Max because he didn't know how to dress, Leila pointed at different things for the blond.
Max didn't hesitate to pick the ones she chose, even holding up things for her to compare between. Needless to say, you used your camera a lot today, you were surly going to have an album dedicated just for them.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Wednesday June 19
2023
"Go right, go right!" Max shouted gesturing with his arms dramatically as he watched Leila play. Leila had begged you to bring Max along to watch her football match after school, and you could tell she was trying to impress him.
You sat on the grass watching as Max gained the attention of other parents and audience with the foreign language. "Goal!" He cheered, sharing a high five with the girl once she came over giggling happily. "Don't DNF now." He joked gently nudging her back to the field.
"She's good." He told you smiling as he watched the game. "I mean, she likes Mo. Salah. He's a big role model for her, I wouldn't be surprised if she pulls off one of his victory dances.
"Cover number 6!" He called getting back in the game. You chuckled smiling to yourself. A ring pulled you out of your concentration. Picking up your phone and moving away from the shouting Dutch man, you answered. "Salut . . . Oui, C'est Y/N . . . Oh— . . . Je— oui oui. Merci."
'Y/N? I've heard that before. Where?' Max thought turning to you. "What's wrong?" "I have to go down to the hospital. You stay here with Leila. Take the train home, she knows how." You pulled out your wallet, pulling out 50 euros, stuffing them in his back pocket. "Buy her an Oreo McFlurry from the McDonald's to the right of the trainstation."
You pulled his arm up, pulling a pen from your pocket as you scribbled your number down quickly on his skin. "Call me when you get home. Make sure Leila takes a shower, and don't let her close the door in case she slips so you can help her. Understood?" You were spitting information and more guidelines which overwhelmed your teammate.
"Don't. Don't mess up." You pointed at him before running off. "Okay . . ." He replied to no one confused.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Salut?" "Hey, it's me." "Hey Max." You greeted over the phone. He could hear you sigh in relief, making his heart itch worridly. "I did everything you told me." "Good good. Thank you, Max. I owe you big time." "It's alright, I had fun."
He smiled to himself, watching as Leila came over with hair brush and a hair tie. "I- ok." He mumbled shuffling backwards so she can sit between his legs. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" "It's, it's nothing you have to worry shouted it's ok." "Well it's definitely worrying you. And we're friends are we not? You can tell me."
Max pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder, beginging to brush Leila's hair gently. 'Friends.' You though breathing in. "Mar— my uncle." You corrected yourself knowing Leila was listening. "Got into cardiac arrest and he's in a comatose at the moment."
You felt your eyes tear up as you confessed, your breaths becoming short as you held sobs in. "I'm scared and I don't know what to do." "Do you want me to come?" "No, no." "OK. What do you need me to do." He paused with the brushing, listening to you intently.
". . . I want you to go to Hungary tomorrow like we planned. With Leila and Aussie. My PR manager can take Aussie off of you. And if you could keep an eye on Leila for just two days. Just two days. Thursday and Friday. I swear I'll make it up to you—" "—Hey. You don't owe me anything." He affirmed, starting to brand Leila's hair. ". . . Thank you, Max. Really."
To say that Max's feeling for you were resurfacing was no lie. You had invited him to your house and had given him a nice week off where he could meet the real Seventeen.
The feelings were stronger no doubt.
17: where's my silverstone win?
jos: alexa play 'it's a wrap' by Mariah Carey
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—FLASHOVER | SEVEN
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader
Summary: Wednesday finds it's pleasant talking to you. There's a rhythmic back and forth, easy to follow along. So, why is it that you've been making bets and comments in your latest conversations that are way too emotionally charged for someone like Wednesday to know what to do with the static and friction.
Warnings: Competitive!Wednesday. Jealous!Wednesday. Competitive!Enid—she's gonna win that trophy again. Thing—should be getting paid honestly. Xavier—only knows losing.
Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3
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Note: This is a little longer to make up for the short chapter last time 🤏 let the action begin! I hope you enjoy it ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) also yes i did change part 6's graphic nobody say anything shh
Part Six
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Flashover: Noun. The moment a conversation becomes real and alive, which occurs when a spark of trust shorts out the delicate circuits you keep insulated under layers of irony, momentarily grounding the static emotional charge you've built up through decades of friction with the world.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
It was the day before the Poe Cup race, and everyone was finishing the last touches to their boat.
"Are you sure this is okay?" You ask with a tilt of your head.
Enid and Wednesday glanced at each other.
"No."
"Yes."
They say it simultaneously, and you give them an amused smile.
"I mean it's not, not okay," Enid explains to you. "I need to win this trophy a second time in a row, alright?"
Enid finishes polishing the last of the boat, waving the two of you off as Yoko comes in, holding a jumpsuit that makes Wednesday's lip part slightly and sigh. Placing her hand on the small of your back, she begins to push you to walk away.
"Aren't you going to stay and finish helping?" You ask curiously, though not resistant at all to being led away.
"No," Wednesday drones. "I'm only entering as Enid is down a rower. My conditions were that I'm copilot again this year and that outside of giving my input and checking on the boat, I wouldn't be forced into their team-bonding."
You give her an amused smile, stopping as the two of you stand in the empty hall. Turning to face Wednesday, her eyes are alight with curiosity, even if the rest of her face doesn't show it.
"Wednesday," you call her name softly, your smile lingering on your lips.
The ravenette peers back at you, and you feel memorized by how long her lashes are. It takes you to then admire her smooth skin—even if it lacks life. Wednesday's lips are also supp—
"What," Wednesday drives you back to reality. Her eyebrows are furrowed, confused by your intensive study of her face and silence.
You bring the crook of your finger to your mouth, clearing your throat with a cough, trying to suppress the blood rising to your cheeks.
"I was just wondering if you're ever bothered about the fact that we're..." your voice drifts off as you think about the correct way to label the two of you, "involved, and you don't have my number. I have yet to hear even one possible nickname for me from you."
"Why?" Wednesday asks with a raise of her brow. "Are you offering it to me without?"
You smile with a shake of your head. "I'm afraid not," you say but don't look sorry at all. "Rules are rules, Wednesday."
"Rules are made to be broken," Wednesday pushes back. "If I had followed every inane rule since arriving at this penitentiary, everyone would've been none the wiser and perished."
"Hm," you hum, conceding with a nod. "I would argue more that despite your lack of knowing the rules, everyone survived."
Wednesday glares at you, and she's about to demand that you explain, but you cut in before she can say anything.
"I'm enchanted by rule-breakers, Wednesday, but only by those who know the rules well enough to break them," your smile is teasing, but Wednesday can't help but tense her shoulders and stifle her frown. She's about to say something when she spots movement from the side of her eye.
That lanky, stuttering boy.
"F-Fae!" He started hesitantly but grew more confident when he saw you smile his way.
"Hello, Henry," you politely greet. "How are you today? Are you heading to the practice room?"
He nods eagerly. "I'm good, and yeah. I swear I can do something cool if you can come see it next time," he smiles shyly back but doesn't give you time to accept or decline. "Are you going to the Poe Cup race tomorrow?"
You nod. "Yes, Bianca has asked me to come cheer for her."
Wednesday bristles.
"Will you be going?" You ask Henry.
He looks regretful as he shakes his head no. "Unfortunately not. My father's birthday is this weekend, and I'm picking out his gift rather last minute. I'll be heading into town mulling over what I could possibly get the perpetually unsatisfied man."
You look on pityingly at him. "I'm sure he'll be happy with what you get."
"Yes," Wednesday cut in. "If not, then get him something he will undoubtedly be miserable with."
Henry looks at Wednesday strangely while you try to hide your chuckle behind your fist.
"Well, Henry, Wednesday and I better head to class. I'll let you know who wins the race." You wave him goodbye, and he happily returns it back. He looks at Wednesday, waving at her too, but she merely stares at him before turning away to walk with you.
As they're walking, Wednesday can hear footsteps. There's a nagging feeling in her stomach and a pricking feeling on the back of her neck. She turns her head back to look at the lanky boy but sees him sitting under one of the arches of the hall.
The sight leaves Wednesday confused, but she turns her head back to you.
"You're cheering for Bianca?" Wednesday asks flatly, leaving out any emotions in her tone that could reveal her feelings.
"Well, she did ask me very early on," you reveal, slowing your walk down as you're in no rush to get to class.
Wednesday follows your pace, disgruntled by the sudden change in speed and your answer. "You have pledged your allegiance to the wrong side as I will be defeating Bianca for the second time in a row. Switch or you will taste defeat right along with her."
You lick your lips, trying to not laugh. "I don't know. Bianca mentioned she had a very strategic plan. It's possible she may win."
"Over my dead body. Thing is aggrieved with you."
"Thing isn't even here," you point out, laughing. "Alright," you grin. "Why don't we make a little bet?"
"And what exactly will the winner get?"
You look up slightly in thought before looking over to Wednesday. "How about the winner gets to plan the first date?"
Wednesday comes to a dead stop. She looks at you, a little wary. "First date?"
You nod. "I think we're due for our first one." You seem like you're going to say something else but pause for a moment before sighing. "Damn, we really have all of this backward. At this rate, we'll end up doing everything else before you get my number."
Wednesday mildly scrunches her nose, her lip curling at your comment. "Why on earth would I want to plan our...our..." Wednesday can't seem to get the words out. "A date," she forces out instead.
You smirk at her. "Because if I plan it, I might subject you to a night of snood-wearing, hair-braiding, nail-painting, 2000s romcom movies date night."
Wednesday's eyes widen, looking ghastly at the suggestion. Disgust is written all over her face, and it takes everything you have to not burst into laughter. "I thought dates were supposed to be enjoyable for both parties."
"I have to keep you on your toes," you say, trying your best to sound serious.
They start walking again, and Wednesday's eyes flitter back and forth as she considers your words. "Would you really subject me to that kind of torture?" She doesn't know whether to hate you or be proud.
"No," you admit, unable to continue your charade. "But now you know there is an appeal to being able to choose the activities we do."
The two of you stop in front of the class door, and most people have already arrived.
"Good luck in the race, Wednesday," you say softly, starting to walk into the classroom.
Wednesday feels the tension in her ease at your well-wishes and soft tone.
You look back at her with a brow raised. "And maybe next time, ask me earlier to come cheer for you."
Wednesday clenches her jaw, following after you as she snaps back. "Perhaps don't agree to cheer for the enemy regardless of how early she asks."
It's irritating when you can sense when there is and isn't a bite in her tone because you only turn around, giving her a smile that makes her own lips threaten to match.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
The sun beats down on Wednesday, making her normally cool skin feel clammy under her catsuit. The race was about to begin soon, and Enid was yammering something to her, but she wasn't listening.
Looking around, Wednesday spots you chatting with Bianca, looking impressed with the sirens' boat. Her lips purses mildly in irritation as she turns back to Enid.
"What's the matter?" Enid asks, but Wednesday doesn't give her an answer, forcing her to search for what could irritate her best friend and roommate. Enid finds it immediately.
"It's totally fine," Enid dismisses, trying to comfort Wednesday. "Once we win, faerie berry will be celebrating with you."
"You already used that one," Wednesday ignores everything else Enid says, "and it's foul."
"To you," Enid says, stinking her tongue out. "I'll have you know it made Fae laugh."
"What's the point of having the nickname if you're going to call her Fae anyway," Wednesday points out. "Admit it. You've run out of ideas."
"O-m-g, just shut up," Enid scrunches her nose at her roommate. "This is what I get for trying to comfort you while your girlfriend cheers for someone else."
"She's not my—" Wednesday feels the heat flare up in her cheeks, even if it doesn't show (thankfully). But Enid cuts her off and starts dragging her towards the canoe.
As they all sit in their positions: Wednesday and Enid in the middle, Yoko at the front, and another girl at the back. The crowd settles and they prepare to hear the signal.
Ajax isn't participating this year, so there is no one to distract Enid. Or so Wednesday thinks, but Enid turns her head around and smiles at her boyfriend.
"Focus, Enid," Wednesday sighs.
The gunshot goes off, and everyone begins to paddle rigorously. It's similar to how last year started off. Everyone except Wednesday is unaware of the secret siren lurking under the waters. The first boat is eliminated almost immediately.
Wednesday finds it suspicious that Kent heads towards her boat despite knowing she has a net prepared. But she's not left with much choice and has Thing activate the first switch.
Just as last year, the siren is caught in her net. When Thing comes back onto the boat, he describes how the siren slowly sinks to the bottom as he tries to claw his way out. Wednesday hums, her eyes continuing to focus ahead as she paddles.
They reach the halfway point, and when Wednesday looks, she sees you peacefully sitting at the edge of the wooden dock, your feet free of shoes and socks as they languidly dip in the water.
You send her a small wave and smile at her, which she doesn't return. But then you also look at Bianca, who has also spotted you, and send her two thumbs up at being slightly ahead.
Wednesday rows more forcefully.
When they reach the Crackstone's crypt, Wednesday runs off to grab their flag as she did last year. She's highly sure that Thing won't be able to distract anyone else from deserting their boat, so Enid and Thing will need to get creative.
"Hope you don't plan on taking a cat nap this time, Addams," Bianca quips as she catches up to Wednesday.
"Why not?" Wednesday monotones, not bothering to look over. "I did last year and still managed to beat you."
"That was beginner's luck," Bianca snappishly says before smiling. "Just like fencing."
"We'll see," Wednesday answers with finality before out-running the siren to the crypt.
Xavier has already grabbed his flag, flashing Wednesday a cocky smile as he passes her. "I'm not losing this year, Wednesday!"
She doesn't pay him any mind as she runs up to grab their own flag. She grasps it, ready to run back, when something catches her eye from the side. Amongst the yellow and green leaves lay a single vivid cobalt teal petal. Leaning down, she goes to pick it up. The second her fingers touch it, her body seizes.
Controlling her gift has become better over the summer, and she can stop herself from falling over, but she can't contain how it feels like livewire ripping at her skin, unnerving her.
"Jericho grows these flowers—draeconiums. They're usually harmless and have a short bloom lifecycle."
"They bloomed under an eclipse."
"Poisonous sap—harder than any metal."
"It's the only thing that can cut off a faerie's wings."
Wednesday feels like she's choking. She sees blood coating her hands along with stray black feathers. Darkness slowly clouds her vision until it's all she can see.
"Did you think because I smiled at you that I was kind? That I wasn't capable of hurting you?"
Wednesday's eyes snap open. She looks around and finds herself still standing in front of the crypt, gripping the pole of her flag until her knuckles are white.
"Don't tell me you're winded." Bianca runs up, grabbing her flag and not even sparing Wednesday a glance. "Guess I should work you harder in fencing."
Wednesday doesn't say anything, beginning to run back to the boat.
The voice was distinctly clear. After all, Wednesday hears it every day and even dreams about it sometimes. She hears it every night she applies the salve to your wrecked wings. The only thing that throws Wednesday off balance is the acid in the tone—in your voice.
She looks at the creased cobalt teal petal in her other hand.
What was a draeconium petal doing on the island?
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
The second half of the race becomes tense.
Kent seems to not have escaped from the net, which Wednesday found odd. He must've been hiding somewhere.
Suddenly, the Amontillado team starts to sink, and Xavier lets out a big groan, slumping in the back.
"What did you do?" Wednesday asks.
"Thing and I switched it up this time. I distracted them and Thing drilled holes at the bottom of their boat," Enid wickedly grins just as Thing comes out from hiding under, dragging a cordless drill. "I bought that over the summer. It's waterproof!"
"How did you distract them?" Wednesday was curious.
"My feminine wiles." Enid looks so innocent that Wednesday almost couldn't tell if she was being serious or not.
Now it was just the Black Cats, and the Gold Bugs left, and it seems Kent decided to make his appearance known then, coming up to push the Black Cat's boat, steering them off course and towards the buoy.
Thing throws himself into the water, swimming under the canoe towards the siren, who is smirking. Just as Thing is about to punch Kent in his face, another siren pops up from behind, securing Thing into a bag and pulling the string closed tight despite the thrashing.
Wednesday waits a few more seconds, but the answer becomes clear, especially when she sees two tails splash up briefly from the water.
Thing doesn't swim back up from the water, and their boat is still being pushed off course forcefully. Wednesday turns on the second switch, which activates the harpoon spikes on the side of the boat. This year, they implemented a few more that would be underwater to deter sirens from getting close.
It seemed while Wednesday expected Bianca to bring more sirens to assist her under the water, Bianca had also anticipated Wednesday knowing and preparing their boat to adjust.
Therefore, the queen bee siren had prepared something unexpected at the very end.
Their boat suddenly stops being pushed off course but then something worse happens. In the water, the two sirens work in tandem, swimming in rapid circles, and a whirlpool near the Black Cat's boat forms with speed, beginning to drag their unwilling boat toward disaster.
"Paddle!" Enid screams, but it's useless.
Thing was trapped under.
It wasn't like he would die or anything, but there was no way his fingers would have enough strength to swim away from the forming whirlpool. He would be sucked in, swirling around until he likely hit the bottom of the river, exhausted and unable to swim back up.
They were just past the halfway point. Wednesday had seen you as she paddled back, looking just as relaxed and languid. Now, you were peering furiously into the water as if trying to find Thing.
Your head snaps up, locking eyes with Wednesday as she is being pulled into the whirlpool. She isn't too worried as she's an adept swimmer, and the most challenging obstacle would be holding her breath long enough to make it through to the end of the whirlpool and not slam her head at whatever was at the bottom, then have enough air to swim back up. She hopes her teammates are capable of doing the same.
If she didn't drown, she might try to find the opportunity to discover where Thing was trapped.
But then Wednesday watches you stand, loosening the tie around your neck, discarding it on the ground before you roll your skirt's waistband down several times and pull it higher up your body so the length is above your knees. Then, she watches you do a perfect dive into the river.
The first feeling Wednesday experiences is apprehension because Wednesday doesn't even know if you can swim. Why wasn't that one of the things she asked you?
But she only knows right now that there's a continuous rapid whirlpool, getting stronger by the minute. If you get sucked into that, and you aren't an adept swimmer, you will certainly, at the very least, drown.
It would be okay for Thing and sirens, but definitely not creatures that needed air.
Wednesday throws her oar back into the boat, ready to throw herself into the water, when Enid grabs her wrists and yanks her back down.
"Enid!" Wednesday snaps, feeling that apprehension grow into something worse when you haven't popped back up for air yet.
"You can't jump down there, you idiot!" Enid snaps back. "Unless your skin can absorb water and turn it into oxygen or you're hiding gills somewhere, you'll drown! Our best bet is to paddle into the moving downstream of the whirlpool and slingshot ourselves around and out."
"Yes, however—" Wednesday starts to argue but is cut short when the rapid current of the whirlpool and the pull of their boat suddenly begin to slow down.
The look of confusion passes through everyone's face, especially Bianca's, as she paddles past Wednesday.
Eventually, the water is still again, and the heads of the sirens responsible for the whirlpool pop out of the water.
"Fuck!" Kent shouts with his hands to his eyes, rubbing them. "I can't see anything!"
The other one near their boat pops up, looking frantic.
"Why is it suddenly dark?" She sputters, holding out her hand as she wades through the water, trying to find something. Her hand slaps against the Black Cat's boat, and she looks alarmed. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
"Are you blind?" Enid waves her hand in front of the girl's face, but there's no reaction. She even jumped at Enid's voice, not realizing how close she was. "It's very much still daylight out."
Wednesday looks into the girl's eyes but finds something amiss.
The girl is still sputtering, asking for help, but Enid is more ruthless than Wednesday thought, especially since it seems like the siren's vision is slowly returning.
"Peace and love to you but goodbye!" Enid shouts as she directs everyone to start paddling.
Wednesday paddles but looks to the side, where she sees an arm shoot up and grab the edge of the wooden dock. Another arm shoots out, and you're hoisting yourself up onto it. Thing is on your shoulder, and relief floods Wednesday's body.
Wednesday locks eyes with you, catching you wringing the bottom of your dress shirt and skirt. You smile at her before mimicking the gesture of her paddling, telling her she should paddle faster.
Turning back to the course, Wednesday puts her back into paddling. It seems that this year, Bianca learned her lesson, building her boat with deadly weapons, and prepared for the worst-case scenario of Wednesday somehow catching up.
Just as Wednesday paddles up next to the Gold Bug's boat with the spikes out, Bianca activates the harpoons from her boat, forcing them to keep their distance. The sirens have planted spikes around their entire boat to prevent the Black Cats from trying to get them on another side. With her team being stronger paddlers, Bianca gives Wednesday a victorious smirk as she paddles away.
But—Wednesday had banked on the fact that Bianca would grow smarter. She activates the third switch on the boat. A lid opens up at the bow of their canoe, and a small harpoon cannon rises.
"Don't miss," Wednesday threatens Yoko, who waves her off dismissively with a hand and grabs onto the handles.
"What?" Yoko smirks. "Do you think my eyes being in the dark with the sunglasses on would impede my perfect vision? I only bumped into a wall 6 times this week."
Wednesday doesn't comment back, mostly because Enid already seems too high-strung at this moment that she's confident the werewolf would kill her vampire best friend if the girl missed the shot.
Yoko spends only a few moments aiming before shooting, the harpoon shooting out with force, piercing right into the opening hole of one of the spikes on the Gold Bug's boat.
"See!" Yoko grins. "All that worry for nothing." Yoko presses a button to reel the harpoon, and as it yanks back, it rips a hole into the Gold Bug's boat.
Water quickly fills Bianca and her team's boat, and they're left bitterly watching the Black Cats row by them a second year in a row.
The cheers are deafening as they return to the dock, with everyone jumping and screaming.
"Yes, yes, yes!" Enid screams, hugging Wednesday as the girl grunts with displeasure but allows it. "This better be the only highlight of my year!"
Wednesday finds it amusing before she turns and scans the crowd. She sees you in the far back, trying to not draw any attention to yourself. Your hair is still damp, but your clothes look relatively dry as you've been standing in the sun. Thing isn't anywhere to be seen, assumedly going back to the dorm room to rest.
You're not cheering or clapping, but you're beaming, seemingly pleased at Wednesday's victory.
"You're getting really good at this school spirit thing. I know you have no beef with Bianca this year, but you have to admit that it feels good to beat her again," Enid conspiringly whispers.
Wednesday turns her head to look at Bianca, who is climbing out of the water, looking vexed. "Defeating someone always feels good," Wednesday smirks. "But it feels better when there's a reason to."
That's what her fencing rival gets for asking you to come and cheer for her.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Wednesday knocks on the door of your room carefully. She's never been to your room before, but she does like how isolated it seems. The room is further down the hall, away from others.
"Come in." Wednesday hears the muffled voice on the other side of the door.
Turning the knob, Wednesday enters to find you standing at your full-length mirror, drying your hair. You're in casual clothing, a sight that Wednesday is used to. Wednesday, herself, was wearing a striped black and white long-sleeved shirt and a black sweater over that.
"Hey," you look at her through the mirror, smiling as you lock eyes with her. "Not going to celebrate with your teammates?"
"I told Enid I'd think about it," Wednesday says, recalling the same words she told the blonde last year. Of course, she had been thinking about it if you were there, but Thing brought her a note from you saying to come meet you after she was done celebrating.
Therefore, Wednesday opted to skip if you weren't going.
You chuckle, not commenting on it. "Do you want some tea?"
Wednesday nods, looking down at the fuzzy black rug and a small round coffee table a few feet away. She strides her way around before sitting on the floor at the coffee table.
There are two mugs and a cordless electric kettle in the middle of your coffee table that you open up before grabbing a water bottle to pour its contents in. You shut the lid before turning it on, and the sound of water heating fills up the room.
Wednesday takes a moment to look around the room, noting how similarly plain it was like hers (her side, at least). The room was much smaller than Wednesday's, but it was obvious it was your room alone.
You had little personal items, mostly photos you'd taken with your friends. Instead of a twin bed like everyone else, you had a queen-size tucked in the corner. Beside it, against the wall and in front of a window, was a long desk, enough for two people to work on it if they squished. But it was barren besides a laptop and a photo of you and Bianca and you with Enid and Yoko.
At the end of your desk stood the full-length mirror. There was a reach-in closet on the opposite side of the room, filled with your clothes that hung neatly. A lot of them looked new and unworn.
There was little walking room, but Wednesday found it comfortable.
"You don't have a roommate?" Wednesday asks, even though the answer is obvious.
"No," you shake your head. "It'd be impossible to hide my wings with a roommate and I need to let them out every night or they'd be very, very sore. Not to mention how miserable I'd be keeping them for that long."
"It must be nice," commented Wednesday.
You shrug. "I'm used to it, I suppose. But sometimes I'm envious of the whole…" you wave your hand in a vague motion, "roommates thing. It seems nice."
Wednesday snorts derisively. "You say that without knowing Enid's habit for snoring and singing horrid pop music. It's hard to get work done sometimes."
You finish drying your hair, letting the rest of it air dry. You hang the towel on the mirror's edge before sitting down next to Wednesday, your shoulder bumping hers. "Well, you're welcome anytime here, even if I'm not around if you want some peace and quiet," you offer. "Usually if I’m here, I'm not doing anything much except on my laptop and with earphones in."
Wednesday fidgets with her fingers at your tempting offer. "I see you've fallen into the downfall of our age—technology."
You laugh, the back of your hand covering your mouth. It's such a melodic sound that Wednesday can't help but think of her vision earlier and the acid in your tone.
Was it even possible?
The water finally finishes heating up, and you place the tea bags into the two cups before pouring hot water into them, sliding one mug in front of Wednesday, who nods in thanks.
"I will admit that I've fallen into binging Netflix shows or documentaries, and the occasional snooping of Enid's blog, but I can't say it's an addiction of mine," you reveal. "Fae realms aren't as modern as the outside world. We have things like electricity, heating, and plumbing but technology isn't as prevalent. It's more used for research than it is for entertainment."
"I see," Wednesday tilts her head at the information. She wishes her mother would hurry up with that goddamn diary.
"I believe a lot of the younger generation is fighting for change but a lot of high lords are against it," you sigh.
Wednesday doesn't know what to say. She's not knowledgeable enough about fae realms to comment on it. But you change the subject before she can even attempt to think of an answer.
You turn to her, a crooked smile on your lips. "Congratulations on today," you say softly. "You were very impressive."
Wednesday shrugs off your laudatory. "Victory was only possible because of you," she acknowledges. She turns to you, narrowing her eyes. "You did something to those sirens. It caused them to be temporarily blind."
You nod.
"Is that your power?"
You vaguely nod again, swaying back and forth as if that's only part of the answer.
"One of them, yes." You finally say. "It's a mild form of psychic powers. I'm not actually physically impairing their eyes, but rather clouding their mind, cutting off certain brain signals so that they think it's pitch black."
"I'm not really good at it," you hurry to say after, as if worried. "I don't have a lot of practice, and it can only last a few minutes at best."
"That is impressive," Wednesday genuinely compliments.
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks and rub the back of your neck shyly. "Thanks," you mumble.
Wednesday senses your discomfort and decides to not push you about your powers for tonight.
"I thought you were rooting for Bianca," Wednesday says quietly. "We had a bet, did we not?"
You tilt your head at Wednesday, almost as if you're confused by her words. And then you're leaning closer to her.
Wednesday is impossibly still. The air suddenly feels electrically charged, sparks forming as the silence drags on. It was infuriating and intoxicating how you could turn the mood so fast.
"Wednesday," you call her name softly, silkily, making the ravenette twitch. "Are you a competitive person?"
"Most definitely." Wednesday answers without hesitation and in a tone that almost seems proud. "I can be obsessive, single-minded, and I don't often lose."
"I'm not a competitive person at all," you admit to her, leaning closer. "I make bets all the time without a care if I win or lose them."
You had taken a sip of your tea earlier, and Wednesday could feel the heat of it on your breath. She could practically feel the heat radiating off your lips.
"That's ridiculous," Wednesday tries to keep the steel in her voice, but she feels something in the back of her throat wavering.
"Is it?" You retort back quietly. "If I make the bets, I can tell you now that I'm winning either way."
The words take a moment for Wednesday to process. Her eyes focus, recalling the bet, and she feels her stomach knot.
"I don't care who plans the date," you say the words out loud, forcing Wednesday to publicly acknowledge it. "Because in the end, we'll be having a date."
You smile, and it causes your lips to brush against Wednesday, and her eyes flutter close.
"Although, I do admit it will be fun to watch you attempt to plan a date that will entertain us both," you tease.
Wednesday's eyes snap back open, glaring at you. "Don't get ahead of yourself," she raises her brow at you. "If I can't be sure to plan the best date, I may settle to plan the worst one."
"Worst?" You try to not laugh.
"It would end in tears…on your end. Uncomfortable displeasure on mine."
"And the best?"
Wednesday is silent.
You let the silence linger between the two of you, basking in the proximity of Wednesday Addams.
"Want to make another bet?" Your eyes flitter up to look into Wednesday's gaze.
"Exactly what kind?" Wednesday asks. Given your revelation, she knows she should say no, but curiosity has always been Wednesday's killer.
Wednesday watches you observe her, studying every meticulous feature of her face as if searching for something. Wednesday is stiff, but she's leaning closer even if she doesn't realize it.
"If you stay completely still for the next five minutes, I'll refrain and wait to kiss you on our first date," you say, moving somehow closer to Wednesday's face, tilting her face more against hers. Your lips brush but never fully touch. "If you move, you have to kiss me right now."
Everyone knows that Wednesday can stay still long enough to make people believe she's dead. You must've known that, especially having listened to people telling you about last year's events.
So, Wednesday thinks about what this bet is about.
"If I make the bets, I can tell you now that I'm winning either way."
And regardless of the results of the bet, you'd get a kiss.
Wednesday swallows, feeling something strange happen to her by just your words.
It's the kind of revelation that feels emotionally charged. It's a build-up of all the time she has spent with you and pathetically pined after you.
Wednesday is a very competitive person. She detests losing. It brings pity, rage, and self-disgust.
Yet, because it's you, there's an underlying spark of trust in defeat.
Wednesday Addams didn't mind losing to you.
Licking her lips, Wednesday moves her hand, grabbing the edge of your shirt at your stomach to anchor herself. She tugs, pulling you closer, and presses her lips against yours.
PART 8
#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday addams imagine#wednesday x reader#jenna ortega x reader#wednesday addams fanfiction#wednesdayedit#wednesday addams x you#mm: my fics
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hi, just wanna share a "success story." i'm choosing to stay anonymous because i don't want to be bombarded with questions, because the asker can find answers within themselves.
i'll just cut straight to the chase. throughout high school, especially when we were online during the pandemic, i would cheat on all my exams. i'd say this started mid 8th grade until mid 11th grade. mind you, it wasn't threshold based, so i wasn't really harming anyone. me cheating basically stopped the class average from dropping down 70% lol.
the act of me cheating alone reveals many things; i was unconfident in myself, insecure, and cared what other people thought of me.
11th grade is where people here start to get really anxious. pulling all nighters and getting caffiene addictions. but i was lazing around, and did what i always did. of course, online exams don't last forever, especially not when it comes to an international exam. it really only hit me months before the real tests that cheating wasn't gonna get me anywhere.
how was i supposed to do these exams? ones that people take at least two years to prepare for? that people study their asses off for? with all the high expectations i falsely gained from my peers and parents, i knew that if i failed these tests, not only would i be ashamed, but everyone would begin to doubt me and inevitably find out about my cheating habits. and i didn't want that to happen.
i did everything i could. i tried to study, but i was inefficient because i basically never opened a book on my own before that, then i tried to get tuition, which only worked to some extent. the highest i have everr gotten on a practice paper was a B, and it was a low one.
i took eight subjects. most people here take 6/7, but i didn't wanna drop one because i didn't want to feel the "shame." again, i really cared about what others thought of me.
so, at this point, i thought. well, i'm screwed.
then i came across subliminals while looking up focus music, which lead me to manifestion -> law of assumption -> neville goddard -> the 4D -> the inner man.
started to implement the law. thought i'd pass all my exams because hell, why not? i persisted that i was just gonna pass because i said so.
i gave the inner man good grades because i could. i saw a good report card in my head because i could. i imagined myself happy on results day. despite the fact that i was underprepared by a mile. why? because i could.
i got straight A's for my exams and got an outstanding reward. this truly revealed to me the power of the law, because just a month back, i was pulling my hair out and stressing like crazy. i'm not proud of my old habits. but with the law, i was able to live the lazy life of my dreams (lol) and still be awarded with praise, smiles and trophies.
wanted to share this story because i feel like knowing the law is so important. it's so easy too. all you have to do is give it to yourself, the inner man, the true self.
don't stress about getting those grades, getting that girl, that dream body, clear skin. don't stress about getting. just give it to yourself, because you can.
hope this helps someone out there realise something :)
heyy butterbean!!
This is amazingg thank you so much <3
#successtory#loa success#loa motivation#motivation#law of assumption#manifestation#neville goddard#loa blog#loassumption#loa#manifesting#affirm and persist#self concept#living in the end#loa tumblr
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hooray! maybe you could do about their acl injury recovery journey together, or them winning a trophy (in their respective leagues) and celebrating together, or fans finding out about their relationships + their reactions. those are just a few ideas x
Snapshots (Pablo Gavi X Barca! Reader)
Every Step of the Way universe
Fandom: RPF/FCB
Requested: Clearly (AHHH I LOVE THEM I LOVE THIS)
Warnings: None
POV: Third Person (She/her)
W.C. 1662
Summary: Snapshots of Gavi and Y/n's recovery
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
~~ (^Pinterest)
Recovery
Recovery is a strange thing. Half of the time they spent thinking they would never be able to step on the pitch again. Other times were spent thinking they were SO ready to get back to playing. Usually, it would alternate days as if the universe was saying, “Hey you’re doing great!” and then immediately switching sides.
Her recovery was different from Gavi’s entirely. The tear on her ACL was substantially more serious than his. The fact that her injury occurred a month prior did help in her favor because they were almost on the same healing schedule at that point. They took their first steps together, walked onto the grass together, and were cleared to play within days of each other.
Most of their days were spent in the same cycle. Rehab and not fucking up their legs any more than they already did. There was one day when they both thought it would be okay to gently kick a ball back and forth while sitting. However, neither midfielder remembered how competitive the other was.
“That was so close!” She shouted as she moved around in her chair after the futbol hit the leg of the chair before rolling to the side. “I was this close!”
“How could you miss that?” Gavi teased as he stretched his good leg to get the ball back in front of him. “I wasn’t even watching.”
“Oh shut it,” She seethed in joking rage as he kicked the ball with a little too much speed. She could not help it. Instincts kicked in, and she immediately used her injured leg to kick it away. Just as quickly, she regretted it. She clutched her leg as she let out a curse, “Shit!”
In response, Gavi moved to help her and consequently learned just how much pain she was in as he put pressure on his leg. That was when they both knew it would be a difficult recovery.
First Steps
Their first steps were taken together. Sure, they did not look pretty, but they were together. They stood side by side holding hands until Gavi’s knee gave away, causing both of them to crash down. Neither was injured further, but it made for a funny story afterward.
The first time they were both able to make their first steps was a different story. As a joke, Y/n sat at the end of the bars that Gavi was walking between and semi-holding himself up on.
“This reminds me of when I was helping my sister teach my nephew to walk,” She joked as Gavi took cautious steps toward her.
“Did you just compare me to a toddler?” Gavi snapped back in disbelief. “I’d like to see you try it! It’s not as easy as it looks.”
“I’ll gladly show you up,” She laughed, standing up and swapping places with him with the help of their physical therapist. “Watch and learn, baby.”
Her first steps did not look perfect by any means, but they were first steps without the bars holding her up. They looked better than Gavi’s attempts, and that was all that she cared about.
“This shit is easy peasy, pumpkin peasy, pumpkin pie, motherfucker!” She laughed as she flopped down onto the chair as soon as Gavi stood up to try again. “Beat that.”
“What was that? Three steps?” Gavi teased as he briefly kissed her lips before turning around and walking four steps away from her without the bar. Then, he turned around and smirked at her, “I think I beat your record.”
First Game Back
It was the same situation for the two of them Their teams wanted them to sideline them for an extra few matches as a precaution. The two midfielders had some objections, but ultimately, it was probably for the best.
The first game back for Y/n was in Barcelona. She did not make any sort of announcement about her return to the green. She just let the journalists pick up on her walking into the stadium and let it all go out naturally. Her socials began flooding with mentions and support as soon as the pictures dropped.
It felt good to be back with her team. Sure, they all hung out outside of the game, but it was just a different feeling being on the grass with them.
Neither of the midfielders were playing. They were to sit on the bench and be cheerleaders basically. It was funny. Not something either player wanted, but it was the closest they could get to being on the field and playing.
Plus, they got to cheer on their friends. What’s not to love about supporting their friends? There was also a multitude of videos and edits of them doing the same things from their respective games. Some fans put the two clips side-by-side to show the similarities.
One in particular was when Pedir and Y/n’s closest friend scored a goal in their games, and both Gavi and Y/n jumped up to congratulate them. However, they both jumped on their legs wrong and sent a jolt up their leg. Like clockwork, both players immediately felt the effects, and slowly sat back down.
First Goal
For the first few games back, both teams were afraid to pass the ball to Gavi and Y/n. It was not because they thought they were not ready. They were just scared the two would get injured once again. Every member of the team saw the flashbacks of their valued midfielders, and they would always hesitate to pass the ball their way.
That is, until the semi-finals. Both teams made it, and they were fighting their own battles. Yn’s team was about to draw. Both teams had been incredibly competitive, and neither team was able to get a goal in. Y/n knew they could not end in a draw. If they did, their team was sure as out of the cup.
Y/n decided to do a semi-risky move and took off down the field. She ran away from the opponents just as one of her teammates gained control of the ball. Y/n was the only one open, so the team held their breath as the ball was passed to her. Just like before her injury, she took off with the ball and got it into the net without anyone catching her.
Y/n did not even realize the time had run out as her teammates swarmed her and the fans stormed the field. Her goal secured their spot in the finals. It was not until Gavi grabbed her and lifted her off the ground that she noticed everyone around her. That goal went down in history.
Gavi’s first goal, on the other hand, had a slightly funnier take. It was not like his team did not have faith in him. He was nervous to screw up. He was throwing every single one of his practice shots, and the team was starting to get worried. They needed him in this game, and if this was how he was performing, they were screwed. Gavi ended up getting pulled aside by Pedri who tried his best to give Gavi a pep talk, but it was interrupted by the start of the game.
Once he stepped foot on the turf, it was like all of his insecurities vanished. He started off strong and finished off strong with one goal and one assist. That was all he needed to get out of the slump and back into the right headspace for his team.
Not to mention, he and Y/n celebrated after their respective games back.
Back to the Grind
During the off-season, the two did not stop training. Obviously, coming off of a possible career-ending injury, they both wanted to be in peak physical condition for the start of the season. They did, however, take a small getaway right after their last matches. Fans and teammates thought of it as a celebration of the end of a good season since many of the other players also took a holiday during the same time.
Many of their teammates went to parties together, some went to see their families, and some went to just go somewhere. Gavi and Y/n, though, went alone to a remote beach. They may or may not have rented out the whole resort of villas, so they would have the privacy to just relax without the eye of the public on them. After having a very public injury and recovery, this was something they knew they needed to get back into the mindset for the incoming season.
And maybe a certain someone had something up his sleeve. Maybe something to do with how to thank a certain someone.
When they showed up at the stadium for the first time since the season ended, everyone was excited to see them. Mainly because they were off the grid for the good majority of the break, but also because a certain eagle-eyed friend spotted something shiny on their fingers. Specifically, their left ring fingers.
“Did he finally man up and propose?” Pedri teased as he pushed himself between his two friends. “He’s only been talking about it for the last - how many years?”
“Years?!” Y/n gasped, leaning forward to look at Gavi. “You’ve been planning this for years, and you waited for us both to be injured to do it?”
“I was going to do it on our anniversary, but I couldn’t really get down on my knee now could I?” Gavi replied sarcastically as he backed up, pulling Y/n with him, so Pedri was no longer between them. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his as he left featherlight kisses around her face, disregarding the sound of their combined teams. He finished off by placing one on her lips after whispering, “I’m just glad I get to have you by my side through thick and thin.”
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
#pablo gavi x reader#gavi x reader#pablo gavi x y/n#pablo gavi x you#pablo gavi#gavi x you#gavi imagine#fc barcelona#fc barcelona x reader#fc barça#fc barca#fcb#bad268#ship268#thing268
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Victory - Yandere!Demigod!Minho
Yandere AU & Demigod AU - First Person POV
Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue
Pairing: Minho X Implied Chubby!Reader
Words: 1,848
Warnings: Implied murder, nudity, and dirty thoughts. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: So, he's supposed to be the son of Nike, the Greek Goddess of victory in this. I really like how this one turned out, ngl, it's just the right amount of unhinged and feral in my mind, so I hope you'll agree! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~
The Sixth of The Feral Drabbles
Last night still feels so surreal, like a dream come true.
Of all the trophies I have won, of all the hardships and trials I have been put up against, none are as valuable as you. Yet, you are not another conquest. You are my forever.
The euphoric taste of victory has never been sweeter, and I will revel in it for as long as I possibly can. As long as it wasn’t all a dream, and that when I open my eyes, you are still sleeping soundly beside me in all of your naked glory.
Thank the Gods, it was real. It was all real.
There you lay, as still as the moon in the night sky.
So peaceful.
So beautiful.
And all mine.
I’ll admit, getting this far has been no easy feat. Tartarus below, getting you to even look in my direction had been a challenge. A challenge that I had been more than willing to win.
For me, there is no one else. Only you.
All the others that demand my attention are so superficial, only seeing what they want to see. They only desire the Goddess’ son for what he can offer them, never for who I really am. They want the victories associated with my name. They want the fame and fortune I have worked so hard to gather.
But not you. No, never you.
Long have you ignored me. Long have you expressed your desire, or rather, lack there of, of what I can offer you. You never cared about titles. You never cared about trophies, fame, fortune, or any of that shit. Who I am, or rather, who my mother is never caught your attention. In fact, you couldn’t have cared less about me before.
I won’t lie to you. It annoyed me.
It- it- hurt…
Sure, everyone who usually demands my attention is superficial and annoying. Yet, I cannot help but live for their praise. Attention is still attention, according to my mother, so I’ve always thrived in it. I always love it.
Maybe that’s what drew me to you in the first place: the fact that you seemingly didn’t care.
Why didn’t you? Hadn’t you heard of me? The famed Nike’s son who singlehandedly defeated the hydra beast when he was only seventeen? How about the countless olympic victories I’ve garnered through the years, numerous statues being erected in honour of my strength and valued deeds? Surely you had heard my name before, even if just a whisper on the wind.
Well, you had, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care that I was born of the Gods. You didn’t care that I have valour or strength.
You don’t even care about how attractive I am. Though, thanks to last night, I know now that you find me to be the most handsome of all.
Definitely doesn’t stroke my ego, or anything…
I can still remember how shy you became once you admitted to it. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve experienced something more euphoric in my entire life, or cuter for that matter. Knowing I have this effect on you is unlike any other, and I never want it to stop, and if I have my way, it never will.
We will be together for all eternity. I’ll make sure of it.
Anyways, I digress… finally, for the first time, I had found someone who wanted to get to know me for me, and not my conquests. All of my attempts to impress you through my grandiose accomplishments meant nothing. It’s the little things that truly mattered to you, like me helping that baker the one day when he broke his arm, or protecting that little girl from straying into one of the hidden labyrinth entrances. That is what seemed to make you notice me.
I’ll admit, for a time, I purposely did any and every little thing to make you look my way. It was worth it in the end, obviously. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be laying here with me in my bed after the night we had.
Oh, what a night it was! Even now, I cannot help the way my eyes flutter at the memories that consume my mind. You are so sweet, My Love, that I desperately long for another taste. For now, I’ll leave you to sleep. After all, you’ll need your rest if we are to continue on today just as we did last night.
I won’t lie to you, My Love, getting to love you, to cherish you and please you, is the greatest honour that anyone, living or dead, could ever bestow upon me. There is no higher pleasure I have ever felt in my entire life than the feeling of being locked between your legs. Your skin is softer than any finery the Gods could ever craft. Your voice is the sweetest song composed of melodies meant only for me. Not even Aphrodite herself could compete with your beauty, nor Thanatos tear you away from me in death. I would crawl through the River Styx and rain my terror upon Hades were he to even attempt to keep your departed soul away from me.
Nothing could keep me away from you. I love you.
I never thought I was capable of love, other than the desperate acceptance I sought through my many victories. I wanted to be loved, not be in love.
You changed that. You changed me.
Now, there is not a single thing that I don’t love about you. There is nothing I would change. From the way you smile at me, only for me, to the way you sigh my name so sweetly. To the way you comb your fingers through my hair after a long day, to the way you hug me so tightly when you’re seeking warmth. Your laugh, which is the most melodic symphony I have had the pleasure of hearing, other than your moans, of course. Your eyes, your nose, your body…I love it all.
I can’t fight it any longer, My Love, I need to hold you in my arms once more.
There. That’s better.
Just the way your body moulds against mine is perfect. We were made for each other, wouldn’t you agree? Besides, no one else can have you. No mere mortal could ever please you in the same ways I have. Not anymore.
You are mine, and I am yours.
My lips will forever burn searing kisses along your skin, singing your praise as long as I still draw breath. I will spend all of eternity composing poems of my deepest love for you, and you alone. Only you shall have the honour of hearing what your name sounds like falling from my lips, for only you are worthy.
Worthy of my love.
Worthy of my affection.
More than all of that, worthy of me.
My hands shall grace no other’s skin, lest it is in defence of your honour. Then, I will never be afraid to reign my terror over them. My strength is unmatched, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, My Love, but when I set my sights on something, I do not stop until I have achieved my deepest desires.
My deepest desires…
You know, I never thought anyone would be able to understand me the way you do. How you can make me fall apart so easily - from just a single glance - escapes me. I have never experienced a love like this, and I hope to every God on Olympus that you haven’t, either.
I want to drown you in my love until all that you know, all that you can speak of, is me. I will surround you in me until you no longer can tell where you end and I begin. We are meant to be one, in this life, and the next, and all of the rest after that. I’ll make sure of it.
You are my greatest victory, and I will make sure to be your only prize.
Let the others say what they want, they don’t matter. They’re just jealous, anyways. However, if I hear even one of them so much as speak one negative or malicious word against you… I will not hesitate to rip their tongue from their mouth and feed it to the minotaur. Maybe I’ll just gift you their heart on a golden platter instead. Offer it in placement of my own. Mine only beats for you, anyways.
Do you feel it? It’s thundering right now. I’m surprised the intensity doesn’t wake you from your slumber. Not even my wandering hands seem to affect you at all right now.
That’s okay, I was pretty intense last night.
You can’t blame me, My Love. I finally had the honour of making love to the woman who owns my very soul.
I can still feel the way my fingertips sunk into your flesh, grabbing onto anything and everything I could reach, just as they do right now. Of course, I’m much gentler for the moment than I was last night. I couldn’t help it, I just had to pull you as close as possible to me. I wanted to feel every inch of your body pressed against my own. I’ve been longing for your touch for too long.
You’re additive, did you know that? There is no finer wine, no sweeter ambrosia than the nectar that flows from between those luscious thighs of yours. Seriously, My Love, I could get drunk on you, and I wish you had let me last night. My tongue longs to be back between your legs, lapping up every last drop that flows from that precious cunt of yours. I need my lips on you, bringing you to ecstasy again, and again, and again.
Pull my hair. Scratch my back. Moan my name. Scream your love for me, and say you’re mine.
Do it all over again until you are satisfied, because I fear I will never be able to get enough of you. I will claim you over, and over, and over again until I am satisfied, and Darling, when it comes to you, I’m insatiable.
Don’t think I haven’t notice how you keen into my touch when my arms are around you, pulling your body flush against mine. Don’t think I do not remember the way you begged for more as my cock buried itself in your tight little cunt. And don’t you think for one second I will ever forget the way I made you scream my name as you came for me.
I did that to you. I will continue doing that to you. Forevermore.
I will only ever be satisfied knowing that I have pleased My Goddess to the fullest extent. You will only know joy, you will only know happiness and love when you’re with me. My pleasure is your pleasure, and I hope that you can say the same for me.
For if not…
Well…
Let’s just say you don’t want this to be the start of another competition.
After all, I always win.
#yandere lee know#yandere minho#yandere stray kids#yandere skz#yandere kpop#skz scenarios#stray kids scenario#minho scenario#lee know scenario#lee know smut#stray kids smut#skz smut#minho smut#kpop scenario#kpop smut#kpop au#demigod au#chubby reader
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Hiii! Can you please do one where you are at a party and Rafe is your boyfriend, and you accidentally kiss/ fall asleep on another guy, and when you and Rafe get home he hurts the reader so bad that her face is full of blood or something like that? You can make it as dark as possible!!!!!
i loved your request baby! so i decided to mix all of these at once, lmk if you liked it or want a part two!!
gone girl
summary: you're so much happier now that you're dead.
everyone can start again, not through love, but through revenge.
warnings: domestic violence, dark rafe, she is just like amy dunne!!!! i love writing about unhinged girls soooo much yall have no idea
Sarah got the journal in hands, staring at John B in fear of what they might find. It was Y/n journal. Their missing friend's journal.
I was hiding inside the closet, desperatedly trying to stop crying. My whole body was shaking, i knew that Rafe was above mad at me. The guy of my dreams, the love of my life. I knew he was about to hurt me real bad.
"Y/n!" he shouted, making me close my eyes and pray to a god i didn't even believed in. I covered my mouth, trying to stay quiet, but it was impossible.
He punched the door of the room several times, and all i could think of doing was whisper to myself that it was all going to be fine, that maybe heaven did exist and i would finally see all my loved ones again. Thats when he shouted again.
"I'LL BREAK YOUR NECK, YOU HEAR ME? I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"
I softly placed my hands on my face, covered in blood. The blood was coming from my forehead, making a mess, my clothes were full of it. All started when i drank a bit too much and started acting like a normal person. Talking, smiling to people, making new friends. Rafe hated it.
Rafe wanted me all to himself. He didn't wanted me to interact with the outside world, it was already hard enough to convince him to let me go with him to this party... He hated seeing me happy if it wasn't for him. Maybe not happy at all, anywhere.
He would freak out for the smallest reasons. I even considered his actions reasonable at the first ones, but now, he really just wanted any excuse to hurt me. He saw me as his personal punch bag. His pretty doll to brag, have sex with and take his anger out. Nothing more. It wasn't like i even existed to him.
I knew i had to do something, but i couldn't. I swear it takes the strench of a god to set boundaries and respect yourself when you're someone like me and you're in love with someone like Rafe. So i just let him. And look at what this has lead me to.
Sarah had her eyes full of tears, John B hugged her. She knew it from the beggining, her brother murdered her friend. They all knew it.
It all started when i showed up at Midsummer's party. Being the new shy and sweet girl makes people create their own versions of you, the versions they want to. You're nothing but a blank paper for them to draw. You're whatever they want you to be, especially when they're rich fuckers.
It's so easy to trick people into believing your new lies of a life. You just need some stupid girl to be your friend; I got Sarah. She liked me so much for "who i was." People will love you when you don't stand for yourself, they love it when you're quiet and just let them vent and talk about themselvs for hours. It wasn't hard for Sarah to trust me and allow me in her life.
Then you have to act like you're a dumb whore, for guys like Rafe to fall in love with you. They just love a bitch with no brain, someone they can feel like they have the full control of. Pretend you're so sweet they can't help but crave you as their trophy.
Rafe had his eyes on me since i walked into that stupid party. Full of shallow, sad people hiding behind those ugly dresses and suits. All women like me, pretending for their husbands, who were also putting on a masculine performance. For who?
"You know i'll take care of you for the rest of my life, right?" He asked me, between groans, still inside me "You're mine, nothing will change that"
And i smiled, as the sweet and submissive girl i was to him. Nodding my head. I wasn't bothered by anything he did because i had his money. I was getting something out of this. I was being paid to act, he just didn't knew it.
Then he started acting phisically abusive. Well, that wasn't part of my deal. And he was no longer giving me money, as he started a theory about how i wanted to keep this money to runaway and start a family with some pogue, JJ of course. He was some creative piece of shit, but i had my good laughing.
He started being obsessive about this JJ topic after i pushed him away in a fight, after Maybank was mentioned. He couldn't believe his sweet girl would disrespect him like this. She always behaved, always let him hit her to teach her some manners, why was JJ suddenly a trigger?
I knew exactly how insecure Rafe was. How he used violence to hide how small and stupid he felt inside. And i knew how much jealousy could drive him insane.
He stared at me with wide eyes.
"Yo- you just... You fucking mad cause i'm talking about JJ? Is this what it is?"
"No Rafe, it is not. You're acting crazy"
"Don't fucking tell me i'm crazy!" He pointed his finger at my face.
"I didn't said you are crazy, i said you're acting crazy"
He slapped me. Hard.
"Fix that tone to talk to me"
I stared at him for seconds before i let tears fall from my eyes. Slowly coming closer and doing the best puppy eyes i could ever. "I'm so sorry daddy, you know i love and respect you more than anything. I just want you to trust me. It hurts me that you would ever think i want anyone else when everything about me belongs to you"
His eyes softned at that, and he sighed. He felt weak. His hands went through his face and hair, anxiously.
"My princess...I'm so sorry." he hugged you. "You make me crazy, fuck. I just love you so much it turns into this. It's sick."
And i faked it so real, i was beyond fake.
"It's okay" i reassured, caressing his back. "I love this part of you, too"
His eyes were tearing up, he smiled.
"Say it again."
"I love this part of you too"
And there he was. The scared boy who just needed love. The pathetic little boy who never had attention or love from neither of his parents. The fuck boy who saw girls as mere objects to warm his dick for a while. The tough guy who punched everyone that slightly bothered him. The elitist son of a bitch. I got him.
"I wanted to make a surprise for you tonight" I smiled, cupping his face with my hands. Staring at him like i loved him unconditionally. "Can you come home after 9?"
He kissed me.
"Course, baby"
I'm so much happier now that i'm dead. Now that Rafe killed me.
I got everything i needed, his money. Not all of his money, just what i really needed. Half of it. I dye my hair a different color, a new haircut. Some different clothes i usually didn't wear, and here am i. In my way to the other side of the country. Leaving my journal and blood at his house. Making sure not only everyone would have sure that he murdered me, but my ghost would haunt him forever. He would never be able to know what happened, and how he killed me in the literal way. I didn't cared if he would rot in jail or not, he would die of insanity at some point. I can say that i killed for him. Who else can say that?
#rafe cameron#outer banks#x reader#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader
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