#to the point they think they are in love with each other

[pucksandpower]

I’m Not Jealous!

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of how your boyfriend and his teammate are eye-fucking each other … nope

Note: thank you to the brilliant @struggling-with-drivers for this amazing idea, I love you so much ❤️

You can’t take your eyes off Lando and Oscar as they chat animatedly in the McLaren motorhome after qualifying. The way they lean towards each other, the spark of energy crackling between them, the bright gleam in their eyes — it makes your chest tighten with a strange jealousy.

They’re so wrapped up in their conversation, casually touching each other’s arms for emphasis, that they don’t even notice you approaching. You clear your throat pointedly.

“Oh, hey babe!” Lando glances up with a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s still buzzing from the adrenaline of the session, and you know how much he lives for these intense post-qualifying debriefs with his teammate.

Oscar throws you an acknowledging nod but doesn’t break his intense eye contact with Lando. “We were just going over the data from ...”

You cut him off with an impatient wave of your hand. “I don’t care about the data. Can I talk to my boyfriend for two seconds?”

Lando blinks in surprise at your curt tone but recovers quickly with a teasing grin. “Someone’s feeling jealous.” He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side with a gentle squeeze.

You stiffen, hating how easily he can read you sometimes. “I am not jealous.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Lando rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Then why are you pouting like a petulant child?”

“I’m not pouting!” You protest, very much aware that your lower lip has surged into an exaggerated protrusion. You shoot Oscar a venomous glare when he fails to stifle a snort of laughter.

Lando laughs too, that bright, infectious giggle that somehow simultaneously melts and irritates you. “Aww, baby, you don’t have to be jealous of Oscar. We both have girlfriends, remember? You’re my one and only.”

He kisses your cheek with an audible smacking sound, as if to emphasize his point. But the reassurance doesn’t land — if anything, it makes you more prickly.

“Doesn’t feel like it when you two are constantly eye-fucking each other,” you grumble petulantly.

Lando blinks, his smile faltering briefly into an almost comically exaggerated expression of surprise. Then he exchanges a loaded glance with Oscar, the two of them breaking into wide grins.

“What?” You demand, feeling your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment and irritation. Did you really just say that out loud?

“Nothing, nothing,” Lando says quickly, still grinning wolfishly. “It’s just … eye-fucking, huh? Is that what you think we’re doing?”

“Well it certainly looks like it!” You retort, frantically trying to backpedal. “With all the intense staring and lingering touches and private jokes ...”

Lando’s grin stretches even wider, if that’s possible. “You’re just jealous because you want my undivided attention, aren’t you?”

Your mouth drops open, scandalized by his blunt words despite how accurate they are. “I … no!”

The protest rings pathetically hollow, even to your own ears. Lando sees right through you, as always. He cups your burning cheek, tsking softly.

“Aww, baby, you’re all needy and flustered now, aren’t you?” His tone is warm, almost purred, sending a shiver rippling through you. “It’s okay, I get it. Who could resist wanting every second of my time?”

You huff out a petulant breath, but it’s impossible to stay irritated when he’s gazing at you with such open affection. “You’re an ass.”

“Maybe.” Lando shrugs cheerfully. “But I’m your ass.” He leans in until his lips are brushing your ear, voice dropping to a hushed murmur. “And tonight, I’ll be giving you every second of my undivided attention.”

A full-body shiver races through you at the heated promise in his tone. You’re abruptly, acutely aware of Oscar watching this whole exchange with a smirk.

“Get a room, you two,” he drawls, not even trying to hide his amusement.

Lando barks out a laugh, pulling back just enough to wink roguishly at you. “Don’t mind if we do.”

“Wait, here? Now?” You squeak out, suddenly flustered all over again as he takes your hand and starts tugging you toward the back of the motorhome.

“Why not?” Lando flashes you a cheeky grin over his shoulder. “I told you, baby — I’m all yours tonight. No more sharing me with anyone else. Just you and me.”

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob to the private room, giving you a slow once-over that makes your skin prickle with delicious heat.

“And I plan to give you my complete … undivided … attention.”

The husky emphasis he puts on those last few words sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You can’t resist stealing a quick glance over at Oscar, who has the decency to look away with a badly concealed smirk.

Then Lando is hauling you through the door and slamming it shut behind you, pressing you up against it as his mouth instantly finds yours in a searing kiss. You melt against him with a breathless moan, all thoughts of jealousy evaporating like mist as his hands roam hungrily over your body.

When you finally break for air, Lando’s eyes are dark with a blazing intensity usually reserved for the racetrack. He brushes a few stray strands of hair from your flushed face with uncharacteristic tenderness.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, you know,” he murmurs gruffly. “Oscar’s my teammate, my rival, almost like a brother to me … but you’re the love of my life. You’ll always come first.”

The raw sincerity in his words steals your breath. You can only nod mutely, suddenly blinking back stupid, overwhelming tears of relief and adoration.

Lando seems to understand. He just smiles that heart-melting smile and guides you toward the small sofa, settling you onto his lap and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap snugly around you, holding you close, making you feel deliciously secure and wanted.

“I’m sorry I got jealous and petty,” you mumble, tentatively running your fingers through his sweat-damp curls. “I know how intense your connection with Oscar is on the track. I was just being stupid ...”

“No, no.” Lando cuts you off firmly, pulling back to meet your gaze. “Your feelings are never stupid, baby. If I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, that’s on me.”

He punctuates his words with a soft, lingering kiss that deepens into something hungrier and needier when you clutch at the back of his neck, wanting him closer, closer ...

Some indeterminable time later, you reluctantly break apart, foreheads pressed together as you both pant for breath. Lando brushes his nose against yours, his eyes practically glowing with devotion.

“I really do love you, you know,” he murmurs, almost shyly. As if he hasn’t already made that abundantly clear a million times over. “More than anything. Or anyone.”

You hum contentedly, snuggling deeper into his embrace. You can feel the steadiness of his heartbeat, a reassuring counterpoint to the pleasant ache of desire still thrumming through your veins.

“I know. And I love you too.” You pause, tracing the line of his jaw tenderly. “Even when I’m being jealous and ridiculous.”

Lando throws his head back with a rich peal of laughter that warms you all the way to your toes.

“Good thing I love you even more when you’re being jealous and ridiculous, then,” he quips, sticking his tongue out impishly.

You swat at his shoulder with a scowl that quickly melts into a reluctant grin, unable to stay annoyed in the face of his boyish charm and unabashed affection.

You know, deep down, that you really don’t have anything to be jealous of — not with the way Lando holds you close and gazes at you like you’re the only person in the world. Still, it’s reassuring having the confirmation out in the open.

You snuggle deeper into his chest, basking in the comfortable silence and closeness. Lando’s fingers idly trace patterns across your back as you breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the sharp tang of adrenaline.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs eventually, breaking the peaceful quiet. There’s a rare vulnerability in his voice that makes your heart squeeze. “This life … the racing, the fame, the constant pressure … it would all be meaningless if I didn’t have you by my side.”

You tilt your head back to study his earnest expression, struck by the depth of emotion simmering in his warm multi-colored eyes. Impulsively, you reach up to cup his cheek, marveling at how easily he leans into your touch.

In these unguarded moments, it’s hard to reconcile this open, sensitive soul with the fierce, single-minded racer who commands a global spotlight. You feel extraordinarily privileged to be one of the few people who gets to see Lando like this — soft, devoted, his heart laid bare.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you whisper back fiercely. “I’m not going anywhere, Lando. I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

His smile is blinding, making your breath catch. Then his lips are on yours again, kiss brimming with a potent mixture of gratitude, need, and sheer adoration that steals your breath.

When you finally break apart, twin smiles of pure contentment tug at both your mouths. Lando loops his arms loosely around your waist, hands splaying across the small of your back as he simply holds you close and takes a moment to drink you in.

You watch the play of emotions flit across his expressive features — affection, longing, bone-deep satisfaction at having you here, now, anchored in his embrace. A sense of peace and belonging washes over you, chasing away any lingering shadows of jealousy or doubt.

This is where you belong. This is your heart’s home, right here in Lando’s arms, sharing his joy and success and weathering the storms alongside him. A love like this — passionate yet grounded, all-consuming yet secure — is worth fighting for.

You may occasionally get prickly twinges of irrational jealousy. You may bicker and tease and test each other’s patience to its limits. But at the end of the day, you know there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be.

Lando seems to read your mind, his grin taking on a distinctly smug edge as his fingers trace deliciously distracting patterns along your spine.

“See?” He murmurs. “Eye-fucking the teammate is all well and good … but this?” He punctuates the words by pulling you flush against him, letting you feel the undeniable evidence of his arousal. “This is what I really want. What I’ll always want, baby.”

You can’t resist rolling your eyes at his signature cockiness, even as you melt against him with a soft hum of contentment. Typical Lando — somehow managing to be both charming and infuriatingly self-satisfied at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, unable to keep the goofy smile off your face. “I get it, casanova. Now shut up and kiss me already.”

His answering laugh is pure sunshine, bright and carefree. Then he’s pulling you down into another heated kiss, effectively silencing any lingering self-doubt or jealousy.

This — the two of you, tangled up in each other with no barriers or secrets, just pure affection and insatiable desire — is what true love feels like. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x y/n #mclaren #lando norris one shot #lando norris drabble

[alastorss]

AAAA ITS GOOD TO HAVE YOU BACK!

I love your characterization of Alastor sm ❤️❤️❤️

Could I request reader dropping dead things (people/body parts, deer, etc.) at his door/radio tower? No note, just corpses. He’s gotta figure out who tf if dropping these for him.

a/n: thank you, it's so good to be back!! i really appreciate you and everyone for being so welcoming :')) <3

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

"You've been doing what?!"

"I didn't think it was so bad... You're the one who wanted me to make friends!"

Charlie only gawks at you, tugging at the ends of her hair in stress. The Princess of Hell paces back and forth across the room, slowly piecing together why Alastor has been in such a foul mood lately.

"So you thought the best way to make friends with the Radio Demon was to leave dead bodies at his doorstep?"

"He loves dead bodies."

"Yeah, to eat them! Oh god, what kind of message have you been sending to him?" She babbles on, exasperated and flinging her hands around in a panic. "He must think you're threatening him or something!"

"Well..." you make some sort of constipated expression and Charlie stops dead in her tracks. "He might not know they've been from me."

"You've been leaving them anonymously?" The Princess squeaks, unsure of whether that makes it infinitely better or infinitely worse. "What was even the point then?"

"I get nervous!" You argue, flopping back on the couch and laying an arm over your eyes. "I was going to tell him eventually."

Alastor was a different breed of terrifying. He could silence a room just by breathing in it. The wailing souls in his broadcast were enough to command that sort of attention.

When Charlie had given you the task of making friends as a part of her "redemption project" you had assumed he was exempt from the list. He was, after all, fairly secluded despite his cheery demeanour. Very few had ever managed to become his companions.

However, your hopes of avoiding him had been flushed down the drain when you accidentally bumped into each other on the way out on your very first day.

He gave you a look over, scrutinizing you from head to toe until your cheeks burned. Then, demanded something very simple of you:

"Welcome! Please, do entertain me."

His first and, as of today, last words he ever spoke to you. Sure, your methods were a little unorthodox, but you had asked Husk for advice and Alastor's cannibalistic tendencies were as much as the bartender was willing to spill.

When you don't receive any response, you peel your arm away to peer at your friend. She makes another two laps around the coffee table before her face lights up.

"I've got it!"

"I don't like that look on your face—"

"Come on," she laughs, pulling you by the wrists. "You just have to be honest. And make sure he knows you're not trying to kill him!"

"How am I supposed to do that?" You ask nervously. "You just told me he's been in a worse mood than usual."

A sinister smile that could only belong to the daughter of the devil creeps its way across her lips.

Dread. All you feel is terrible dread.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

As much as Alastor enjoys a good meal, this is becoming excessive.

It must be the seventh or eighth body this week. And, as usual, there is no note. No indication of why there's a corpse or a deer head or a rabbit's foot at his door. He can't even sniff out any traces of a soul being here.

He hates charity.

Not even because he does not need it, but because the anonymity is making him think they're gifts of pity. That, or it's a threat on his life. Either way, he loathes the idea that someone is looking down on him.

The demon needs to get to the bottom of this soon. Paranoia is not common for him, but the anxious bubbling in his chest is unmistakable. Whoever keeps leaving the bodies at his door is meticulously clean when they kill. He would hate to be on the receiving end of the blade.

Just as he's about to dump the body in his swamp for later, there's a knock on his bedroom door. He hesitates.

No, he isn't afraid of whoever is on the other side of the door. However, if there were a fight, he would need to get his suit tailored again and he simply doesn't have the time for that today.

He takes slightly too long to decide whether or not the person on the other side of the wall is a threat, because soon enough his ears pick up the sound of retreating footsteps.

Alastor swings the doors open so fast that you yelp.

At first he's confused why you refuse to turn around to look at him. Lacking common manners—he'll have to bring that up to you later. Then, he's confused on why you've shown up to his door at all.

"May I help you, dear?"

A chill creeps down your spine. Charlie and her ideas... they would be the death of you. Preferably today. Right now.

"I didn't mean to disturb you!" You stammer, still not looking at him.

Alastor raises a brow before popping up behind you from the shadows. You squeak, clutching somehing to your chest and shielding it from his gaze. He does a loop around your body and you spin around to keep the item hidden. The Radio Demon narrows his eyes.

"Are you hiding something?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

You do another spin as he tries to get a peek of what's in your hands.

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" He feigns offense. Again, another spin.

"Of course not!"

"You see, I very much don't enjoy being lied to. Last time I caught a scoundrel in my midst, I cracked them open like a—"

"Okay, okay!" You suddenly burst out. You turn so slow that Alastor feels himself holding his breath.

When he finally sees what you've been so insistent on hiding, he snickers. Impolitely, mind you.

"Don't laugh," you whine, squeezing the bouquet closer to your chest. Amongst the flowers are little pieces of death—fingers, eyes, ears.

Charlie had decided that one step back in your redemption by collecting body parts like this would result in three steps forward. She allowed it, just this once.

"Are these for me?" He purrs, leaning down until his face is in yours. You'd been warned before that Alastor had no concept of personal space, but you can't help the way it robs the air in your lungs.

"Please don't get the wrong idea," you strain in embarrassment. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For leaving all those bodies here. I didn't mean for it to come across as insulting."

The demon blinks at you in stunned silence for a few moments before he cackles, standing back to let you breathe again. "Why, of course! No hard feelings, darling."

"Really?" You lighten up with a sigh of relief.

"Your little gifts have kept me on my toes," he assures. "Perhaps not my idea of entertainment, but the effort was there."

"I'm glad to hear that," you smile. "Charlie was worried you wouldn't accept my apology or want to be friends."

You seem to catch yourself, eyes going wide as you shake your head.

"N-Not that I'm assuming this means we can be friends!"

Alastor only laughs again, gentler this time. "No need to be so jumpy. I don't bite," he muses. "And tell the Princess she has nothing to worry about."

He takes the bouquet from you, hands lingering over yours for a fraction longer than he meant for them to.

"I would love to be your friend."

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda @princekeerys @cedarrthefluffylee (send an ask to be added!)

#🍓 faye's thoughts <3 #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin x reader #alastor fic #alastor headcanons #alastor x you #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin

[joostcafe]

So kiss me. | joost klein x fem!reader

Summary: Getting ready for a Halloween party with Joost is not easy, especially when he can’t stop kissing you.

Warnings: Pure fluff, kissing, a couple swear words.

A/N: I just really miss Halloween… requests are very much open!!!!

— now playing! ♫ kiss me | sixpence none the richer —

“Stop fussing.” You said, spreading white face paint onto joost’s cheeks.

His eyes squeezed shut, as he held onto your thighs for dear life. “It’s cold.”

“I’m almost done, promise.” You reassure him, gently patting his chest with your other hand.

His mouth drops before letting out a soft laugh, “You just started, leugenaar!” — and liar you were.

He attempted to lay down onto his bed before you snatched him back up, giving him a peck on the lips.

The smug look on his face made you believe it would make him sit still.

He smiled once more, the smile you loved so dearly. The way his eyes disappeared beneath his cheeks, showing all of his teeth.

You continued, carefully applying the paint to the rest of his face as he sat there, staring up at you with gleaming puppy eyes.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled.

You can’t help but look away after locking eyes with him. He still made you nervous, even after sitting on his lap for a while.

He hugged your waist, now pulling you towards him. You grabbed his face with one hand and made your way up to his hair.

Not even a second later he leaned to kiss you once more, and you could feel him smile once again.

“We’re going to be late Joost.” You said, pulling away and fixing his hair — which you previously ruined.

He sighed and wiped some white paint off from your face. “I can’t kiss my beautiful girlfriend? You know, we can just stay home and watch scary movies.”

You and him loved home dates better than going out to parties, since you both got overwhelmed very fast in big crowds. So that actually sounded pretty fucking amazing.

You lingered for a moment before grabbing another color beside you. “Your friends will get mad, you know how they are.”

“Fuck my friends.” He replied, which he didn’t actually mean of course. “They can survive the night without us.”

You smiled and kissed him yet again, this time a little deeper.

“Sweetheart.” He managed to get out, “I don’t want your talents to go to waste.”

You laughed, grabbing the nearest makeup brush. “I appreciate your faith in me.”

Holding onto his neck, you painted the remaining clown features onto his face.

Your focus and determination was cute to him, the way you would slightly stick out your tongue when it came to drawing a sharp line. When you would stop to admire him and plant a few kisses on his neck to avoid making a mess. It was too much for him in fact, he was so in love with you.

“I think i’m done.” You said, giving him a small hand mirror.

“Wowww.” He dragged on with an exaggerated voice, “I really love it.”

You try to fix his hair once more as he grabbed a red lipstick from your bag, “May I?”

You grin slightly, getting closer to him.

He opens the tube before inspecting it. Then he swipes it gently on your lips, making sure he’s not messing it up.

“There.” He whispered.

You carefully rub your lips together before looking at yourself. “I’m impressed.”

He then points to his cheek, asking for a kiss.

You obviously weren’t gonna deny him, even if you thought he had enough for tonight — he never had enough of your kisses.

You kissed him once.

Then twice on the other cheek.

One on his forehead just because.

And a million more all around his face.

“You’re too good to me my love.” He replied.

You wrapped your arms around him, “Hey, i’m the lucky one here.”

— And after many long kisses, you spent the rest of the night cuddled up with each other, watching horror movies and eating halloween candy.

#joost klein #joost klein fanfic #joost klein fluff #joost klein x reader #joost klein x you #joostice

[dollypopup]

People don't give Penelope enough props for the absolute BRAVERY it took in asking Colin for a kiss!!! I am tired of the rancid takes of 'oh, it makes her look pathetic-' no. Penelope asking for that kiss is VITAL in her growth, and pivotal to Polin's love story. Some flowers for Colin, first, for having put in years of work into their relationship so that Penelope trusts Colin to the point where she would even dare to ask it of him, but flowers to Penelope for asking. She trusts him and she's familiar with him and she KNOWS she's safe with him, and she took a leap of faith. So much of Penelope's arc is hiding what she wants and who she is, melding into the shadows, putting on a front. She doesn't confide in much of ANYONE. Not even Eloise knew about her love for Colin, or her existence as Lady Whistledown. Penelope keeps so much close to the chest.

Which makes it such an amazing moment when she opens up with Colin. When she reveals what she desires, and when he responds with 'If you want this, I'll give it to you'. So in that scene, when she's heartbroken and sad, after she has written of her own humiliation in Lady Whistledown to circulate amongst the ton, adding her own name to her list of bullies, when she thinks she is well and firmly on the shelf, and Colin comes to check on her, and he won't allow her to think badly of herself, and he even goes so far as to bribe her maid to have a moment with her, she opens her heart up enough to ask him for what she wants.

And that is beautiful. It deserves props and recognition. To ask for what we want as women is radical, and I'm frankly sick and tired of people thinking she's 'pathetic' for it. Penelope is brave in this scene. She is brave and vulnerable and Colin is there to tell her that is okay. That it should be rewarded. That he will catch her and he is there and she is right to trust him. He is the safety net as she tumbles and steps into the unknown.

Penelope Featherington looked the man that she loves in the eye, and she asked him to kiss her. How many of us would have the iron spine necessary for that? Sure, maybe she thinks she's hit rock bottom, but she could have swallowed her truth as she so often did. She chose not to. Penelope Featherington, who only ever voiced her opinions on a page, anonymously, stood before him with nothing to protect her heart, bare-faced, and told Colin Bridgerton she wanted him to kiss her. That she wanted to be loved.

And he did. He did and it was lovely. It was a fantastic kiss, and in that moment, you can tell that she *was* loved. Is loved. He held her like she was starlight, precious, delicately grasping her chin, brushing her cheek; he pecked her once and then went in for more. That kiss had desire and longing and tenderness in it. It was gentle and wholehearted. It was them learning each other, the both of them flaying away another layer for the other to keep. Penelope asked him for what she wanted and she got it. And it was ultimately the catalyst for all her desires to come to fruition.

I feel like we as women are told we must be passive so often: don't be too loud, don't ask them out, don't look 'desperate'. But fuck that: Penelope is an active participant in her love story. She asks Colin for what she wants and he provides it for her eagerly. That kiss made him realize that what he felt for her was far more than just friendship, and it started with 'Would you kiss me, Colin?' and ended with him outrunning HORSES to catch up with Penelope so he could, on his knees, profess how much he wants her and how he can't stop dreaming of their kiss. She toppled that first domino. May we all be so courageous. May we all be so bold. May we all be so loved.

Penelope put her own love story into motion with that kiss. We should fucking applaud her.

#polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #bridgerton #i will hear NO first kiss slander not a fucking iota of it

[barcaatthemoon]

fade into you || lena oberdorf x reader ||

lena takes your virginity.

minors dni, 18+, smut warning.

not proofread because i have 30 minutes to get to work and still need to eat breakfast.

the move from manchester to bayern was a big one, but you hadn't made it alone. your older sister keira's best friend, georgia, had transferred with you. with georgia there, you practically had another older sister there with you. and it was great, up until you met lena.

the bayern and wolfsburg games were pretty intense, but you loved it. english soccer hadn't necessarily been physical enough for you, aside from your very heated games against arsenal. lena could match your aggression and put you on your ass if she really wanted to.

at first, there had been a couple of close calls. georgia had gotten herself carded arguing with lena twice before someone said something. after that, you had players like magda and pernille, your team mothers, who looked out for you instead. they were a lot more protective, not even letting the german player talk to you after games.

lena hated the way that they watched over you like a hawk whenever she was around. all lena had wanted to do then was talk to you, and she had to wait months before she finally had a good chance to do so. georgia had tried to step in to "protect" you whenever lena approached you after an international game against each other, but she wasn't nearly as intimidating as magda.

"(y/n)!" lena called out as she chased you down in the tunnel. you froze on the spot, unsure of what lena could have wanted with you. that game had been difficult to say the least. tensions had been high, and several players on both sides had gotten a little sketchy with some of their tackles and challenges. "do you mind if we talk for a minute?"

"you want to talk to me?" you tried not to sound so surprised, but you couldn't help it. lena nodded as she extended her hand towards you. georgia looked a bit angry as you took it, not noticing the looks from leah, lucy, and your sister behind her.

"i'd prefer to do it alone," lena told you as she led you away from everybody else. "i've wanted to talk to you for a long time, but there are always other players around. your friends don't seem to like me too much."

"they are protective. we have a tendency to go a bit harder after each other than anybody else," you pointed out. lena couldn't argue with you on that one. she admittedly did play a bit rougher with you than she did with other players. however, lena knew that sometimes that was what it took to stop you from trucking through their defenses.

"i like how you play. i can't wait to be on your team." lena rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. you studied her for a moment, just long enough to be distracted by her features. your eyes bounced all around her face and body, shamelessly checking her out a bit. "before that, though, i'd like to get to know you better. maybe we could go on a date when you get back to germany?"

"why wait that long?" you asked her. lena looked surprised, like she couldn't believe that you wanted to spend time with her so soon. "i won't be drinking with the rest of the team tonight, and playing cards in my sister's room can wait. you guys leave tomorrow night, and i think that leaves just enough time for us to go out together for a night."

"the whole night?" lena asked. you were quick to shake your head, but refused to elaborate any further. lena didn't know that you were a virgin, she couldn't have. not a lot of people actually knew that, and while you had been told that it was nothing to be ashamed of, you couldn't help but feel like you were lagging in your age group.

"i'd like to see where things go first. hooking up isn't really my thing," you said quickly. you hoped that it came off casually, but you knew better than that. you weren't that lucky, not when it came to relationships. you had only ever dated one other person, and it had ended so badly that you kind of thought you'd never date again.

…

naturally, as your relationship progressed, lena eventually learned about your lack of experience. she had been kind about it once you told her. a lot of things that you had done over the past few months made sense to her. lena had known that you were shy, but now she understood why certain things messed with you as much as they did.

"good morning." lena greeted you with a kiss as you walked into the kitchen. it was her first week in her munich apartment, and she had asked for you to stay with her. the two of you had been together for nearly half of your first season at bayern. now, you'd get to play at the same club together, so she would be there to keep you company instead of georgia.

"this isn't good for my german," you told her. lena shrugged it off and wrapped her arms around your waist as she pressed several kisses to the side of your face. "i really do want to learn, lena."

"liebe, you are doing fine with the german. relax, we practice together every single day. rest your brain for a morning, it will be fine," lena said. you sighed as your body sank back against hers. you hadn't been with lena for very long in the scheme of things, but you knew for sure that you were in love with her. keira had once told you that love was a feeling that often took you by surprise, and your feelings for lena had blindsided you early on in your relationship.

the two of you had expressed your love for each other in words before, but you wanted to do more. you wanted to give yourself to lena fully. the thought was beyond terrifying for you, but you also knew that lena was trustworthy. she would take care of you, just like she had been doing for months. more than that, you trusted lena fully and wanted to show her just how far your trust reached.

"what are you thinking so hard about?" lena asked you. her voice was full of concern, breaking the blissfully relaxed energy that had been filling up her room. you had been ready to tell her exactly what you wanted, but when you opened up your mouth and looked at her, your words died out on the tip of your tongue.

"i want-," you paused, unsure of whether or not this was the time. lena would never push you towards anything, but you hadn't considered whether or not she wanted sex from you. everybody around the two of you had made a teasing remark here or there about sex, only to be shut down by an extremely defensive lena.

"it's okay, take your time." lena pressed a kiss to the top of your head as she pulled you to rest against her chest. you gave yourself a couple of moments to relax where she had guided you. once those moments were over, you shifted so that you were sort of leaning over her. "everything okay?"

"yes, i just, need to ask you something. lena, i'd like to have sex with you," you told her. lena's normally expressive face went completely blank as she stared at you. a wave of panic overtook your thoughts, but lena didn't let it get far enough for you to retract your statements.

"this is a big deal, are you sure liebe?" lena asked you. it was true, this was a big deal for you. some of your teammates had tried to play it off as something that didn't matter, but to you it did. lena knew this, and she had been fully prepared to wait until marriage if that was something you had wanted. a part of her hadn't expected you to want to talk about it again so soon, but she was glad that you trusted her.

"yes, of course i am. i love you, and i want to show you that," you said sheepishly.

"there are other ways to show that you love someone. it's not like i can give you this experience back if you decide that i wasn't the right one." for a moment, you thought lena was trying to talk you out of having sex. that idea was promptly snuffed out whenever you finally looked her in the eye. lena looked almost to tears, but there was no sign of anything other than joy on her face.

"i'm sure. i want you, and only you." lena had never heard you speak with such confidence or conviction before. you were shy, always keeping to yourself or your very carefully selected circle of friends. "just, please remember that it's my first time."

"always, we will take it slow," lena promised you.

…

neither you nor lena had really brought up having sex again for the remainder of your stay with her. you had assumed that lena had forgotten, not that she was working on making the last night of your week together so special. for the most part, you had been completely oblivious until she was practically shoving you out of the house to go shopping with sydney and laura.

they were nice, but still very much lena's friends. you had a lot of fun with the girls, who had definitely talked you into spending more money than you meant to. by the time that you headed back to lena's, you had enough things to fill an extra suitcase.

"lena?" you called out into the apartment. it looked empty, but lena had obviously cleaned and rearranged a few things. you could see the table set very romantically, and you wondered for a moment if you missed some sort of anniversary. all of those thoughts were practically thrown out of your head when you saw lena walk out of her bedroom. "you look amazing."

"i know that we did not talk about this before, but i really want to be with you before you leave. only if that's okay with you," lena said. she brushed a strand of your hair back behind you ear as she stepped into your space. there was never an invasion with lena, she was always welcomed eagerly with open arms.

"i'd like that. i've been thinking about it a lot," you confessed. lena smiled as she pulled you in for a kiss. something told you that lena would have kissed you either way, but this kiss felt different. this kiss built to something bigger, something that your body had been anticipating for a couple of weeks now.

lena pulled back from the kiss to lead you to the table. you sat there a little awkwardly by yourself while you waited for her to return. lena had obviously put a lot of effort into the meal, preparing things that you recognized as supposed aphrodisiacs. you noticed the distinct lack of alcohol at the table, which lena explained away as not wanting anything to possibly taint the experience.

"how are you feeling?" lena asked you. she leaned back against the counter as she watched you put the last dish in the dishwasher. you had fought her about leaving the dishes in the sink for tomorrow and cleaning up, but lena relented in the end. she had rinsed a few of the pots and pans before you were even home anyway, that was enough help as you'd accept.

"nervous, but in a good way. i trust you though, just show me what you like i guess," you told her. lena smiled as she pulled you in for a kiss. this one was soft and sweet, a gentle press of her lips against yours. the next couple ventured away from that territory, right up until lena was pinning you against the counter by the kitchen sink and kissing you absolutely breathless.

"i'm going to find out all of the things that you like. maybe it'll take more than a night, but we have the rest of our lives to figure everything out." lena picked you up with ease and carried you into her bedroom. every part of the house had been done up for tonight, so it shouldn't have come as a shock to you to see the candles and flowers all over the room.

"you spoil me. what if i want this every time we have sex?" you asked her.

it was a teasing question, but lena answered you with complete sincerity, "then i will do this every single time. there is nothing i wouldn't do to make you happy."

"i love you," you told her. lena blushed as she pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"i love you too," she mumbled. you threaded your fingers through her hair and lifted her head up so that she was looking at you. she repeated herself, suddenly a little afraid that you hadn't heard her. you pulled her in for another kiss, opening your mouth almost immediately to welcome her tongue.

lena dropped onto her knees on the bed to lay you down gently. her body quickly covered yours once again, and lena slotted herself in between your legs. the two of you had laid like that before, but now it felt different. both of you knew where this was leading, and while lena would assure you that you could turn back whenever you wanted, you knew otherwise.

you were grateful for lena taking her clothes off first, even if you had been head over heels for the outfit. it was rare that you got to see lena out of her kit or the sweats that she liked to wear around the house. and while there was little hotter to you than lena walking around in a tank top and sweatpants, the black slacks and white button up that lena had worn for tonight drove you a little crazy.

however, you were glad to not feel quite so underdressed for the occasion. you hadn't changed from the jean shorts and t-shirt of lena's that you had worn out for shopping. lena had barely let you go whenever she saw you in her shirt that morning, but you had compromised with her by cuddling on the couch until laura and sydney came bursting through lena's apartment doors.

"can i touch you?" lena asked as she motioned towards your bare chest. she was almost completely naked above you, only wearing her underwear. your shorts were still on, lena slowly making her way down your body. your lips were bruised from kissing her, and there were little wet spots from lena kissing along your neck and jaw.

"please do," you told her. lena smiled, dipping her head down to press a kiss to the little dip in between your collarbones. lena's hands massaged your breasts as she littered kisses all over your chest. you could feel that you were wet, but you didn't want to rush lena. as many times as she had told you that this was for you, you had reminded yourself that this was also for her as well. it was your first time, yes, but it was also your first time together.

with each inch that lena moved down your body, you felt your arousal and anticipation grow. you were practically shaking by the time that lena finally reached your shorts. she opened her mouth to ask if you still wanted to continue, only to be met with you impatiently shimmying yourself out of them. lena had the tact to hide her amusement, but you didn't miss the little glimmer in her eye.

it wasn't the amusement that you had mistaken it for. after your show of enthusiasm, lena let her own eagerness be known. the kisses that lena pressed to your hips and thighs were messy, much messier than the ones placed on your chest. lena paused and sucked a hickey onto the inside of your thigh, barely an inch away from where you were practically frothing at the mouth waiting for her to touch you.

"mine," lena muttered sweetly as she ran her finger over the hickey.

"make me yours," you begged her. you weren't sure what had compelled you to say that, but if lena's reaction was anything to go by, it was the right decision. lena grabbed your thighs and held them apart. you heard her swear as she really got a good look at you spread out in front of her.

there was nothing that could have prepared you for the feeling of lena's mouth on your cunt. you had kissed her hundreds of times already, but her lips felt completely different between your legs. you blindly reached around for something to grab until you felt lena take your hands in hers. it was sweet and grounded you, distracting you from your rapidly approaching orgasm.

"i don't want to cum yet," you whined. lena lifted her head to look at you. there was something reassuring in her eyes, something that quelled the panicked thoughts about embarrassing yourself in front of her.

"it's okay, let it happen. it always happens faster than you'd like the first time." lena spoke gently, more so than you had ever heard her before. you closed your eyes and tried to only focus on the way that lena felt as her tongue moved between your folds.

you couldn't stop the moans and all the little noises that normally would have embarrassed you. lena hummed appreciatively at each noise you made, like all she wanted was to hear them again. the focus of lena's tongue switched from just lazily lapping at your cunt to zeroing in on your clit. you felt a finger press against your entrance, rubbing teasingly as if she hadn't planned on actually entering you.

"lena, i think i'm gonna cum," you warned her. lena just sort of squeezed your hand as she continued with a steady pace. lena didn't want to overload your senses, so she tried to keep things going a little slower. she paid attention to every little signal that your body was giving her, helping you reach your peak and work yourself through it.

"you did so good," lena praised as she littered your face with kisses. your cheeks were flushed and your chest was heaving. you had made yourself cum a couple of times before, but it was nothing like having lena touch you. the feeling of lena touching you made you never want to even try to get yourself off ever again. "how are you feeling?"

"i've never felt like that before," you told her. it was a good feeling, but you couldn't quite articulate that yet. lena nodded, seemingly in understanding, and cupped your cheeks to pull you in for a kiss. "i can't believe i didn't ask for that earlier."

"go on to the shower. i'm gonna put the sheets in the wash," lena told you. she tried to move away, but you clung to her like your life depended on it. "liebe, we have to clean up."

"yes, and you can come shower with me. then, when we're out, you can put the sheets in the wash while i pick out something to watch in the living room." lena wasn't going to argue with you, especially not when your plan included a chance to shower with her. you knew that you had won when lena didn't try to argue with you, so you pulled her out of bed and towards the bathroom. your legs were a bit shaky still, so lena held onto your hips to steady you the whole way.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut #lena oberdorf smut #lena oberdorf imagine #lena oberdorf x reader #minors dni #minors do not interact

[wolfythewitch]

Hiui it is 8am and I'm on the zcholl bus and my broam has not shut up about them

There's a lot of discourse about the achilles portrayal in the song of achilles which I agree with for the most part because the sanitization I feel erases the suffering of women and slaves the period was built on by minimizing the raping and violent nature of war hero achilles that Homer wrote - - however, I don't think tsoa ought to be read as a stand alone; tsoa is entirely written from patroclus' pov and I think that idealisation of the man is brilliant because of how grossly codependent they were

I think I really liked one redditors take on it, being [in context of 'the silence of girls'; a breseis pov of the iliad, where in achilles participated in the culture which used her as a bed slave of war] The tsoa protector achilles which defended women who mattered to him and was endlessly devoted, and the achilles that was complacent in the ritualistic abuse of the women he enslaved by pillaging their homes are both coexisting, and possibly one and the same

I personally view the Greek cast as sort of vocaloids, they're tools by which we understand the culture of the ancients, the way we envision their interactions is just a means for our practicing the pragmatics of how we come to understand the period

Okay frankly I'm not the best person to discuss this because I've only read like half of tsoa, but there's two disagreements I have I guess, based on what I Have read

One, as much it's not meant to be a standalone or something like that (to me, it is meant to be a standalone), because of its popularity in contemporary media it is being taken as one, and many people will have Achilles and Patroclus' image forever frozen as tsoa' portrayal. God knows how many comments I've gotten on my videos treating tsoa as fact. I can't really blame the author for that, but it is what it is.

Two, the idealization of man through patroclus' eyes would hold more weight if himself was not changed for the narrative either. Patroclus was a soldier, he was a healer, and he also had his fair share of women (who he slept with). Both of them did. Violence was not shied from, and slave women were war prizes. There are these insidious little rewrites throughout the story to further the narrative of Achilles and Patroclus' only loving each other, and in turn erasing what they've done to the other women in the story. (Taking in slave women because they wanted to save them is. A choice.) Deidamia in the myths, they range from at best her and Achilles falling in love to the point of intimacy, and at worst Achilles raping her. In tsoa, Thetis forced Achilles to sleep with her. Deidamia also forced Patroclus to sleep with her. That flip in the narrative is kind of fucked up, seeing as how both in the myths and in tsoa Peleus raped Thetis.

Trying to make a statement that it is written through the idealized eyes of man, well it doesn't really work here. If anything, it feels more like an author writing with the intent of not having her MCs be morally reprehensible. So Patroclus cares when the plot demands it (saving briseis, outrage when she is taken away. Asking Achilles to save the other slave girls) and not when it doesn't affect him (talking about his mother nonchalantly, questioning why thetis hated Peleus when he also acknowledged how Peleus was involved in her rape).

#wolfy tedtalks #rape tw #slavery tw

[moghedien]

Honestly obsessed right now with the way all the BG3 romancable girlies are the most affection starved creatures on the planet

Shadowheart is just existing in a constant state of being manipulated and abused by Shar and Viconia on behalf of Shar. She has like exactly one friend who she can’t even remember when we meet her because even that has to be taken from her on Shar’s demands. She’s probably had lovers but she can’t remember them and Shar wouldn’t allow anything serious anyway. The two people would show her affection are her parents who she’s not even allowed to remember are her parents from one interaction to another and who she’s made to torture, again for Shar. And the way she talks about Shar, it’s clear that Shadowheart wants some kind of positive attention, but the only attention she gets is a shock collar that punishes her when she’s not being what Shar wants her to be.

Lae’zel is made to see affection as a sign of weakness. She can’t comprehend even treating kids in a way that can even be slightly considered coddling. She sees it as damaging to them, raising them to be weak, because she was raised to cull or be culled when it comes to her peers. If you romance her, she’s initially deeply uncomfortable with the idea of even just cuddling after sex. And even sex is a power struggle, even when she thinks it can’t be anything more than casual. She can’t be weak even while she’s fucking bottoming. You have to be nearly into act 3 before she’ll even admit that she wants you to touch her gently and she says asking for it is one of the most frightening things she’s ever done. The girl doesn’t even know what the word love means until the epilogue, if you romance her.

Minthara has spent her entire life looking over her shoulder for people waiting to kill her in some power struggle. The relationships she mentions to you either ended with death or at least had assassination attempts at some point. She seems close to her mother for a drow noble but still sees that as a relationship that has to end eventually in murder. And even though she has had her mind taken from her, she seems much more eager to pry into your mind than anyone else and when she does it’s because she’s looking for information on herself. How you see her. She wants to see everything laid out and to trust each other completely. Having access to each others’ minds is probably somewhat of a relief to her, because this way she can know exactly how you feel and exactly if and when you’re going to betray her. If you don’t intend to, then that would be the first time in her life she could ever not be constantly on edge around someone.

And Karlach. It’s sad because she’s absolutely the one that would be most willing to trust and open to affection. But she literally is not physically able to receive it. She was forced to fight in the blood war for a decade unable to trust anyone and not having a single friend. The closest thing she had was still a devil who enjoyed hurting her in petty little ways, who would still sell her out to Zariel. And when she’s escaped from the Hells, she still can’t physically touch anyone without killing or at least severally hurting them. She is clearly the most openly eager for physical affection, even the most platonic and casual touch, but she can’t get that. She will literally physically hurt anyone who gets too close to her not matter how hard she tries not to, because of how other people hurt her.

#the girlies aren’t ok #they’re touch starved and affection less #shadowheart #lae'zel #minthara #minthara baenre #karlach #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[lilasamaaa]

A lapse in judgement | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genre | Angst (of course), Hurt/Comfort, Fluff.

Word count | 3.8K

Warnings | Mention of sexual activities, rejection.

Summary | The long-awaited dinner with your in-laws doesn't go as planned... Will you and your boyfriend manage to change their minds about your relationship?

Author's note | I'm back, bitches! This lovely prompt was requested, thank you for the idea Anon! I hope you all like it, please let me know what you think! ✨ (not proofread lmao)

Being the new girlfriend after the one who got away fucking sucks. Even when your lover was the one to end things. It's quite something to be the girl after the one he was supposed to spend his life with. Get married with. Have kids with. You wouldn't wish anyone to be in your place. Yet, here you are, all because you fell in love with him. Carlos Sainz. Him and his doe eyes. His impeccable hair. His charming smile. Frankly, you didn't stand a chance.

You knew who he was, of course. Formula 1 is among your fondest childhood memories, sitting in front of the TV with your siblings and parents. Each Grand Prix was a household event, and you could never bring yourself to part with the Ferrari-colored jacket you wore every race Sunday. It's been years since you've fit into it, but the memory is too precious. So, yes, you knew who he was. And you recognized him immediately when he walked through the door of your workplace, sunglasses perched on his nose.

You don't follow Formula 1 as closely as before. Just enough to keep up with the news. You don't pretend not to know who he is. What's the point in pretending?

"Back from Monza already?" you ask, wiping your hands on a clean towel.

He smiles. A polite smile, but one that seems to indicate he's not keen on chatting. Or at least, not about that. You ask him what he'd like, and he asks for anything with soy milk in it. He orders two, to go, and you smile again. Okay, you think. Understood. The exchange lasts no more than two minutes, and soon, the driver exits the coffee shop, leaving behind a lingering woody scent.

Weeks pass without crossing paths with him again, and honestly, the encounter has completely slipped your mind. That one early morning, though, you're sitting at one of the café tables, contemplating new drinks, new recipes to implement based on some customer feedback, when the little bell chimes behind you. You definitely need to stop leaving the door open to let the floor dry after your morning cleaning session.

You turn around, ready to inform the friendly customer that the café doesn't open for another twenty minutes, when you catch his gaze.

"I know you're not open yet," he starts, putting both hands in front of him. "I saw the sign. But I really need some coffee, and all the other shops are closed."

"I suppose I can make an exception for such an emergency," you say as you rise from your seat, smiling kindly at him. "What can I get you?"

"I don't remember the name of what you made for me last time, but it was incredible. There was..."

"Soy milk?"

"Yeah."

"I'm on it," you say, turning around. "Two?" you ask, feeling like you already know the answer.

"Yes, please."

You hurry behind the bar, preparing the two coffees, and you place them in front of him a few seconds later. He takes out his phone to pay and places it on the terminal, which emits a soft "beep." Then, he picks up one of the coffees before sliding the second one towards you.

"This one's for you," he says, and you barely manage to hide your surprise.

"Oh," you say. "If I had known, I wouldn't have charged you for the second one."

"But it wouldn't have been the same, then. I wouldn't have offered it to you," the driver says, winking at you before taking a step back. "Thank you so much for the favor. Have a good day!"

With that, he's gone. As you sip your hot coffee slowly, you wonder when you'll see him again next time. But already, your employees arrive and pull you from your thoughts.

"That guy outside kinda looked like Carlos Sainz, no?" Lucia, one of them, asks while tying her apron.

"You've seen him? I thought so, too," you reply with a smile.

The next time you see him is the exact opposite. You've just bid your last employee a good evening, and you're putting the chairs up on the tables in preparation for the morning cleanup. A knock on the storefront makes you look up, and you smile when you see him. You open the door, and he slips inside, slightly damp from the light rain falling outside.

"Have you ever heard of opening hours?" you ask while wiping down the countertop.

"Can't say I have," he replies with a grin, the sight making your stomach flutter.

"I think congratulations are in order," you begin, throwing the towel over your shoulder. "That was a clean win in Singapore."

"Thank you. It might be a bit late for a coffee, but would you like to grab a drink with me?"

The proposition takes you by surprise.

"Like? Right now?"

"Yeah. Right now. I know a place not far from here."

"Aren't you afraid of being seen or something?" you ask, arching a brow.

"Never with beautiful women, no."

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. You've been living in Spain for ten years, yet you don't think you'll ever get used to the natural flirty nature of its inhabitants.

"Give me ten minutes to change and close up, and I'll join you," you say, while he nods, sitting on one of the bar stools.

Carlos takes you to a dancing bar, obviously run by friends since he spends five minutes shaking hands and greeting everyone as you enter. He leads you to the back of the bar, to a secluded corner where the music is much quieter, and you can actually have a conversation. You have no idea what to say. Where do you even start with a Formula 1 driver? Someone whose life is so different, so far removed from yours. Sensing your discomfort, Carlos takes the lead, asking you questions about your café, (Did you open it by yourself?) and about your life. (Where are you from? You have an accent).

The evening passes, and the drinks flow until you find yourselves tightly pressed together on the dance floor. You're back against his chest. His hands on your hips. Yours on his neck. Swaying to the rhythm of the music, all senses heightened. His lips don't take long to seek yours, and from the wall of the bar against which he pins you, you transition to his mattress, his warm body pressed against yours.

You don't sleep much that night. You don't know if you'll ever have the chance to see him again. To have him like that again. So, you lavish your lips on his, your body against his. And in the early morning, as you wake up entangled in each other's arms, and you almost expect him to kick you out... He climbs back on top of you instead, pressing warm kisses against your mouth, your collarbones, your navel... You arrive at the café thirty minutes late, with bags under your eyes. It's never happened before, and your employees are so surprised that none of them even think to joke about your poor state.

You don't hear a word from him for the next ten days. Occasionally, you glance at the app you downloaded, which informs you about upcoming races. You know he's in Qatar. You try not to let the little voice in your head win. The one that laughs at you. That tells you that you'll never see him again. He's working, you think. He's busy. Your life goes on, though you can't help but watch for him early in the morning and late at night, your eyes lingering on the storefront.

Then, one day, he comes back. Right in the middle of the shift. Seeing him walk into the café, Lucia lets out a scream and drops the cup she was holding. "Dios mio," she says, clutching her heart. Several seated customers turn around, but nobody seems to pay attention to the tall brunette with caramel eyes whose gaze is fixated on you, from across the counter.

"Soy milk?" you ask, trying to contain your smile.

"Yes, please. Only one."

And then, he starts coming every day. Every day he's not on the other side of the world, that is. By his seventh visit, Lucia can almost serve him his coffee without spilling any, her hands shaking so much.

Outside of the café, the two of you slowly start going to museums. To restaurants. To the cinema. But there's one place you both prefer. His bed. You spend hours there, exploring each other's bodies or talking about everything and nothing. Exchanging thousands of kisses or sharing your worst childhood embarrassments. Moaning against each other or talking about your very first pet. And one evening, as you were recounting how your respective parents had met, he asks you the question.

"Speaking of that, would you like to meet them?"

Your heart skips a beat. It's been six months since you've been seeing each other. Since you've been exclusive. Since you've been a couple, in reality, even if neither of you has dared to say the word. That one, and the other. The one that starts with an L. Even though you know you do... And you sense he does too.

"I don't know," you say, resting your head against his bare chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Have you talked to your family about us?"

"Of course," Carlos says, pressing a kiss to your head. "They know I've been seing someone. And they know it's serious."

"Do they even want to meet me?"

"They haven't asked, if that's your question," your boyfriend replies. "But they never have, with anyone. They know it's something I like to do at my own pace."

You nod, and a few minutes later, the fateful dinner is set for the following Saturday. Already, the ball of anxiety that has lodged itself in your stomach grows. And soon enough, you find yourself standing in front of the door of the imposing Sainz mansion, your throat tight and your hand sweaty in Carlos'.

"Relax," the driver says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before stroking your thumb. "They're not that bad."

Carlos knocks on the door, and a young woman opens it before jumping into your boyfriend's arms. You recognize her instantly from the pictures in Carlos' phone. Blanca. As if pronouncing her name in your head had reminded her of your existence, Blanca turns her head, smiling politely in your direction.

"Nice to meet you," she says rather blankly before gesturing for you two to come inside.

You encounter his other sister, Ana, in the hallway a few seconds later. She isn't much warmer, not even offering a smile and simply saying "Welcome" before rushing to hug her brother. The reception from the two women surprises you a little, and doesn't really help you feel confident about the evening. Carlos doesn't seem phased by the situation, helping you out of your coat before guiding you to the living room where the two young women have already disappeared. You're about to walk through the door when your eyes stop on a series of frames hung across from the front door. Your heart skips a beat. Feeling you come to a halt, Carlos stops as well, following your gaze.

"Fucking hell," your boyfriend says before taking the frame off the wall and placing it upside down on the buffet below. "I'm sorry. This photo has been there for so long that they probably don't even notice it anymore," he adds, his tone apologetic.

You know he's trying to reassure you, but his words have the opposite effect. You've briefly talked about your exes. Well, more about his. Isa. The girl he was with for seven fucking years. The one his parents loved so much. Seeing a photo of them together right before meeting your in-laws is like a knife to the heart. A reminder that you're the new girl. The one replacing her. You muster a smile that you know is fake at Carlos before continuing on your way. As you arrive in the living room, his two parents stand up from the couch, rushing to their son to hug him.

The embraces last a few seconds, until they turn to you. You greet them politely, handing his mother a huge bouquet of flowers and his father a bottle of fine wine, as they thank you with strained smiles.

"I also brought chocolates from my shop for you," you continue, turning to his sisters sitting at the dining table. "They're from a small producer in Andalusia, a real treat..."

"How kind of you," Blanca says dryly.

You miss the glance that Carlos shoots his sister, behind you. A stern look. One that scream "be careful". One Blanca pretends not to see.

"Let's sit down," Carlos' mother announces, gesturing for everyone to take a seat.

Intimidated, you stick close to Carlos, sitting next to him. The table is beautiful, adorned with fine porcelain and various flowers. You smile as you spot silver napkin rings and pick up the one in front of you. Your next breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes land on the letters engraved in the metal. Isabel.

"Ah yes, sorry," Ana begins, following your gaze. "We didn't have time to make a new one. I hope you don't mind."

"It's fine," you say, looking up and smiling at her.

"So, dear, what do you do?" Carlos' father asks. "Carlos told us about a café, but we didn't quite understand."

"I opened my own café a few years ago. We also serve fresh pastries that I bake every morning. It's really taking off; I have several employees now, and I'm planning to open a second one soon..."

"Did you study culinary arts?" her mother asks.

"Uh, no, I don't have any degree," you reply with a nervous laugh. "School just wasn't my thing."

Ana and Blanca exchange a glance, and you lower your head, feeling your cheeks flush. You feel Carlos' hand on your thigh, and you cast him a grateful glance, which he doesn't see, his eyes fixed on his sisters.

"And so, the two of you met at the café, is that right?" his father resumes.

"Yes, that's right," you reply with a smile. "In May, the first time."

"In May?" Ana asks, looking at her brother. "Weren't you still with Isa?"

"Are we gonna mention her all night?" Carlos snaps.

"It's just a question, no need to get upset," Ana replies, rolling her eyes.

"Did you know who he was?" Blanca asks, holding your gaze.

"Uh, yeah, I recognized him. But I served him like any other customer," you recount.

"It must be weird," Ana continues, as your attention turns from her sister to her. "To see a celebrity walk into your little café."

"It's actually not so little," Carlos says. "It's pretty well-known in Madrid. Lots of customers."

"Never been," Blanca says curtly.

Carlos's mother gestures for her daughters to follow her, and the three women disappear in the kitchen before returning a few minutes later with their hands full of various dishes.

"Carlos told us you love to eat," his mother continues, giving you a genuine smile. "It's good that he didn't choose a very slender girl, for once," she adds, as you tilt your head. Was that supposed to be a compliment?

"What are your plans after the café?" Carlos' father asks, chewing on a piece of chicken. "Now that this first project has worked out?"

"I beg your pardon?" you ask, genuinely confused.

"What are you going to do with your life now?" Ana asks.

"Well... I'm going to keep running the café? It's my sanctuary, my biggest project. I'm so proud of it, I'm not going to give it all up now."

"Oh," his father replies, eyeing you. "I'd understood it was temporary. That you were a kind of investor."

"No," you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "That's... That's what I do."

The silence falls over the table, punctuated by the clinking of utensils. After a short while, Carlos's mother clears her throat, meeting your gaze.

"Forgive our questions. We're curious to get to know the person Carlos shares his life with. You have to understand, after seven years... You always know what you've lost, but you can never know what you've gained."

"And that was quite a loss," Blanca chimes in, sipping on her wine.

"You can't trust anyone these days. You never know if they love you for you or for your wallet," Ana states, looking at her perfectly manicured nails.

"Or your contact list," Blanca adds, shooting a glance your way.

"Okay," Carlos suddenly says, throwing his napkin on the table before getting up. "That's enough. We're leaving."

"What?" you say, looking up at him.

"They're clearly not ready for this. We'll come back when they finally understand that my ex is just that - my ex. Get your things, love."

You stand up, feeling your legs tremble, as Carlos' hand find the small of your back, pushing you towards the hallway.

"Don't be ridiculous," his mother says, standing up as well. "You can't expect us to forget seven years just like that."

"I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking you to respect my partner. But apparently, that's too difficult."

A few seconds later, Carlos is backing out of his parents' driveway, one arm around your seat, his gaze fixed on the rear window. In the passenger seat, you fidget with your fingers, staring at your hands and biting your lip nervously. His brows are furrowed. Jaw clenched. None of you exchange a word until you hit the main road, headlights from passing cars casting shadows on your faces.

"I'm so sorry," he finally says, stroking your thigh. "If I had known..."

"You couldn't," you reply, placing your hand on his. "I don't blame them. Seven years is no small thing."

Turning his head, his gaze meets yours.

"I won't pretend that those seven years didn't matter to me, that they meant nothing. Even though I don't have any romantic feelings for her anymore, she will always be a part of me in some way," he says, as you feel your heart tighten in your chest. "But she no longer occupies my thoughts. She's no longer imprinted under my eyelids. It's not her fingers that give me chills, her voice that makes my heart race. All day long, I think about you. I talk about you. Even at night, I dream of you. You're right beside me, so close, and yet it's not enough. You still find a way to get closer, to flow through my veins, to infiltrate every breath, every heartbeat."

"Sometimes I wish I could see myself through your eyes. That girl sounds exceptional," you say, laughing as you wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes."

"She's quite something," he replies, eyes on the road. "I can't wait for them to realize."

After the disastrous first encounter with your in-laws, over six months pass before Carlos comes join you on the terrace of your shared hotel room in Jeddah, placing a coffee in front of you. Bending down to sit beside you, the pilot winces, a hand on his stomach.

"Are you okay?" you ask, running your hand through his hair.

"I feel so fucking sick," your boyfriend says, a painful grimace on his face.

"Shouldn't you see a doctor, babe?" you ask, stroking his arm. "You look awfully pale. And you haven't eaten since yesterday morning."

"I can't keep anything down," Carlos replies, throwing his head back before closing his eyes.

"Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro," you start, earning a small grin from your boyfriend.

"I just love when you call me that."

"There's no way you're getting in that car tomorrow," you insist.

You didn't think you'd be so right. Well, not to this extent. Hurrying through the corridors of the hospital, two large aluminum trays in each hand, you dodge doctors and nurses along the way, weaving through visitors until you reach the door marked with the number you're looking for. You knock on the door, slipping inside before turning around to close it behind you.

"I wasn't sure what you'd prefer, so I got both," you begin, still facing the door, handle in hand. "The paella was quite easy to find, but I admit I had to cross the entire city for..." your sentence dies in your throat when, turning around, your eyes meet those of your mother-in-law. Then your father-in-law's. And your two sisters-in-law, crowded in Carlos' small hospital room.

"Oh," you utter, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know you'd be there. I'll leave you alone," you start, turning around once again.

"No! Stay," Carlos' mother says, rising to take the trays from you.

"We're really happy to see you again," his father says, rising as well to embrace you. "Carlos was telling us how well you took care of him. Thank you so much for being there."

"That's the least I could do," you reply, feeling intimidated. "He would have done the same for me."

"I may love you, but I'm not sure I would have slept in that armchair. Or changed your blood-soaked bandage," Carlos replies, eyes half-closed, still under the influence of anesthesia.

"You did what?" Blanca asks, turning to look at you, eyes wide.

"Well, his nurse was busy and it started leaking," you shrug.

"You slept here?" his father asks.

"They wouldn't let me at first, but I didn't feel like leaving him alone in a foreign hospital."

"She annoyed the staff so much they just gave up on throwing her out," your boyfriend lets out in a laugh.

"I didn't annoy anybody," you reply quickly, fearing what his family might think.

"You threatened an intern to tie yourself to the chair."

"I didn't do that," you half-laugh, shooting your boyfriend a warning look.

Seated on the side of Carlos' bed, bickering with your boyfriend while running your hand through his hair in a loving gesture, you don't see the glance exchanged between the Sainz family.

"We were thinking about something, before you arrived..." Ana begins, her eyes finding yours. For the first time, you're not met with her harsh, cold gaze, but with gentle eyes. "We have a family house in Mallorca. We thought it would be nice to all go there together, so Carlos can recover in peace. We would be very happy if you joined us."

"It'll be a chance for us to get to know you. And to apologize for our pathetic behavior last time."

"Carlos chose you," his mother starts, smiling warmly at you. "And we all understand why."

You could cry with happiness at the thought of finally being accepted, being welcomed into the family of the person you've shared your life with for almost a year now. At no longer being the new girl. The one after the love of his life.

At the though of maybe, simply being the one.

The real one, this time.

#f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #cs55 x you #cs55 x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #cs55 x female reader #formula1 imagine #formula1 #formula one

[hellishjoel]

on call

7.5k / pairing: cardiothoracic surgeon!javier peña x resident surgeon f!reader

main masterlist | notifications blog

summary: Javier Peña - a shark of a surgeon - is the head of Cardiothoracic Surgery and you're on his service for the week. After letting you take lead on a risky surgery, you crave what else he can teach you. warnings/information:  MA 18+ (minors DNI), doctors performing surgery but no gore, medical talk (open heart surgery performed, mention of aneurysms and paralysis), both Javi and reader are surgeons, implied but unspecified age gap (Javier is an attending surgeon, reader is a resident surgeon), sex in an on call room (rooms in the hospital where the staff can catch some zzz's), swearing, size kink, praise & degradation kink with accompanied dirty talk, competency kink, (un)affectionate pet names, fingering, oral cleanup (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie reader is described having hair and wears surgical scrubs, but otherwise (I believe) no physical description, no use of y/n A/N: FYI the only knowledge about hospitals or doctors I know is from Grey's Anatomy, so expect some drama and inaccuracies! beta’d by the lovely @thetriumphantpanda! spanish assistance by the talented @undercoverpena! banner made by me!

Any doctor will tell you that smoking cigarettes has a well-documented history of negative health risks. 

Smoking can significantly increase the risk of various health problems, including cardiovascular diseases, lung cancer, respiratory issues, and, most importantly, to a surgeon, how delicate your tissue is. It shreds during stitching, falls apart in between gloved fingers, and increases the risk of infection. 

So why does Javier Peña, the Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery, smoke? 

Probably because he thinks he’s God. Galavanting through the surgical wing in his dark navy scrubs. The attending flirts with every nurse who passes his eyeline, sweet-talks his residents, and charms each patient he consults. 

Beneath all that, he was a ruthless shark of a surgeon. Driven to the point of recklessness. Stealing surgeries out from under fellow doctors, commandeering ORs, and always proving to be the smartest in the room. He knew when to bark and, more importantly, when to bite. 

Javier Peña was a piece of goddamn work. 

The operating room is the only time he’s silent. Espresso eyes narrowed on the surgical field, fingers succinct and persuasive like he’s giving the most delicate organ in the world a compelling speech: to live, to keep beating, to pump blood until it simply cannot. 

He’s impressive, really. 

Standing on the opposite side of the patient on the table, watching him work, you nearly forget how handsome he is behind his mask. If you weren’t such a great resident, you’d be more impressed by his looks than his hands. 

But his hands… they were brilliant. 

Peña was steady. Every movement is filled with confidence; they don’t stutter or flinch. He operates with wonderful dexterity, switching between both hands, neither more dominant than the other. Instrumental and graceful, like a maestro conducting a large orchestra. 

This was his stage, the surgical instruments were his props and everyone in his OR was simply an extra. He was a star; everyone knew it. But no one knew it more than you, his third-year surgical resident on his cardio service for the week. 

His years of training bleed through his expertise, and shine in a way that makes you remember why you signed up for so many years of medical school, dropped top dollar on an education to get you here, and then granted residency at one of the finest hospitals in the country. 

You were good. Peña was great. 

As his resident, you must prove nothing but useful. He’s not a natural teacher, the way his brain drives allows no one in his passenger seat. But you’re keen on declaring on cardio, and you’ve been the resident by his side for most of this year. He doesn’t need your help. He can do this all by himself, so all you can do is prove yourself useful. 

You must anticipate his needs and next move, watching him progress from step one to final completion. 

But this surgery was unexpected. Unplanned. Most heart surgeries end up being accidental, arising from complications during a routine surgery. The patient on the table before you was scheduled for a general procedure but began presenting with heart issues during the operation.

Peña performs an aortic arch replacement. He starts with a #10 blade, making an incision along the sternum to access the aortic arch. 

“Retract all this tissue,” he mutters. 

It takes you by surprise because his OR is radio silent. He talks in his head, not to you, ever. 

“Me?” 

“Are you really asking me that?” His tone twitches with irritation, but you do as he asks before he can disregard and bury your anticipation. It allows for more exposure, and he’s back to work. He cannulates the patient for CPB, working through the right atrium and then the aorta. 

“Proper placement?”

You nod before you remember he’s still staring down at the patient’s heart. “Yes.” 

Doctor Javier Peña is the commander of his OR. Which makes you all the more confused as to why he decides to put you in the driver’s seat. Or rather, the hot seat.  

“Okay, we’re going to arrest the heart using cardioplegia purposely. What’s next?”

Your mouth is going dry; it takes you a moment to find your words. You should know the answer, even without having prepared. He just makes you nervous. “We need to use myocardial protection techniques to minimize… ischemic damage?”

His eyes snap up, glaring, cold as ice. “Are you asking me? Or are you telling me?”

You force down the lump in your throat and take in a shaky breath. “Telling?” 

He cocks his eyebrow in annoyance. 

“Telling.” You say more confidently, nodding before he sighs. He wanes his options in his head before his eyes start to soften. He must feel at slight ease talking to a resident who isn’t a fucking moron. 

“Okay. You’ll deliver the cardioplegia solution and monitor its function.”

You let out a breath of relief, perhaps too big of one, because Peña smirks and tuts at your shift in breath. 

“You’re not a complete waste of space in this surgical program after all. Congrats.” 

After willing yourself to bite your tongue, you watch him proceed with the arch repair. He returns to silence as he carefully dissects the aorta, amber eyes admiring each of the strong branches like that of a great oak tree. 

“Name them.” 

Eyes meeting his over the operating table, Peña waits. He’s testing you, pushing you towards greatness or failure. He wants to see where you fall—if you’re worthy to be in his OR, opposite of him, learning under his greatness, or if you’re a waste of his time and talent. 

“You’re a third-year resident, I knew this by my second,” he grinds, “all the books I’ve seen you read in the cafeteria should have told you this. Name them.” 

He watches you, it wasn’t just in your head - the magnetic stare you can feel from across the room that makes the hair on your arms stick up. He watches, he knows you’re capable. “Not gonna get by just on looks here, Doctor.” 

Dragging your eyes away from his intense stare, you loosen your jaw and line your fingers over each strong branch, starting at the trunk of the tree. “The left subclavian artery, left common carotid artery, the innominate artery-”

Peña raises his gloved hand, seeing the gentle smear of blood along his fingertips and palm. “Stop.”

Your eyes squint heatedly, feeling your chest tighten. “I can finish, I know them-”

“Stop, damn it,” he barks louder, his eyes shifting away from yours and across the room. He wasn’t listening to you; he was listening to the heart. Doctor Peña tilts his head to the monitor, watching the heart shift its beats. “Doctor, identify the pathology.” 

You shift on your feet, the nerves throughout your arms leave you feeling shaky. Something was wrong. “The aortic arch, it shows…” Closing your eyes helps you focus, ignoring the crowd in the overhead gallery, forgetting the patient on the table just for a moment, and only listening to the beat on the monitor. 

“Pretty girl, not so smart,” he taunts with a shake of his head, the beeping on the monitor pitching louder and echoing hauntingly through your ears. You wished this room would swallow you whole, but that would be you admitting to cowardice. 

Peña takes a deep breath and looks between you and the monitor, “Alright, come on, open your eyes,” he instructs, guiding your hand off the retractor and along the heart’s wall. “What do you see?”

The commanding tone in his voice brings you out of your head and back to the patient. The room wavers and it goes silent. You don’t hear the erratic beeping of the machines, you don’t see the movement in the gallery. Doctor Peña is in front of you, calm and focused. Because he trusts that you know what’s wrong. 

The aortic wall bulged out of its normal shape. It looked weak, stretched out, thin, and nearly translucent. You see the saccular protrusion, lips parting at the discovery. 

“He’s—was there an aneurysm? He had an aneurysm?” you ask with more panic in your voice than you had hoped. It must have been during the patient’s original procedure earlier in the day before you and Doctor Peña even scrubbed in. “We can’t do a repair or a replacement of the arch. We have to stop everything--” 

“So what are we gonna do, Doctor?” He probes, piercing dark eyes on you. Suddenly, your height shrinks, and you feel only a few inches tall under his gaze. He’s so much older and wiser, and all you can do is panic. “What, you can't figure this out yourself? Four years of medical school, internship, and residency, don't fucking disappoint me now. Tell me how we fix it.”

Our brains hold endless files of knowledge. A doctor is not only supposed to keep files on how to perform a procedure but also what to do if one is horribly failing. But your brain only knows panic because until you become a brilliant surgeon, all you know is fear. 

“Should we page neuro? A-A neuro consult, his blood flow isn’t reaching his spine. He might be paralyzed.” 

Peña scoffs and shakes his head, “Hoping someone else comes to save you and fix your problems? What if I wasn’t standing here? You’re on your own, kid.” he spews, focusing his headlight back over the heart. “We don’t call neuro, the patient can’t wait that long. Come on,” he whittles away your confidence, fire in his eyes. “Come on!”  

You can’t seem to control your anger, feeling it ween down to something brittle and broken. You snap. “Doctor Peña, respectfully shut the hell up. We’re gonna fix the aneurysm sac.”

“How?” He’s quick on the whip, and it feels like your lungs might give out. “Come on, smart girl, tell me how.” 

“You’re-You’re gonna use the sac to bring blood back to the spinal cord. He’s only paralyzed because the aorta isn’t able to send blood to his spine. You replace the aorta with a Dacron graft and rebuild the aneurysm into a second aorta.” It’s spoken with half confidence, but your eyes are fiercely stubborn. 

“Its only job is to send blood to the spine,” he mutters in agreement, hands already at work. 

“Like the freeway being blocked by traffic, you take a side road. Or, in this case, you’re building the side road.” 

He momentarily pauses his hands, pretty brown eyes searching yours. He stares you down longer than anticipated, and suddenly, the air feels charged. Heat tingles up your spine, and you find yourself challenging his stare. 

You deserve to be in this OR. You’re good, but Peña is great. And you will be great once you learn more from him. Him and his stupid fucking- brilliant hands.  

“I’m not building the side road; we are,” he corrects, and he asks the scrub nurses to give him the supplies for constructing the graph. 

Finally, his cheeks perk up, and a small smirk hides under his mask. “Suction, Doctor. Prep some 6-0 of prolene. We’re gonna need it.” Peña spends the next few hours teaching you how to reroute the aneurysm and restore blood flow, allowing you to reconstruct and place the graph. 

You and Peña are a well-oiled machine. He lets you take the lead under his supervision. It’s impossible not to scream inside your head about this moment. You feel like you’re floating, no longer panicking. Your fingers weave with an indescribable amount of delicacy. It feels like braiding hair, the way your fingers know where to move, the muscle movements natural despite never having done this procedure before. 

What a fucking high. And you’ve always been such an adrenaline junkie. 

Once word got out around the hospital that Peña was doing this incredible and unexpected surgery, the gallery was all standing and fighting for room to glance out the over-viewing window. And you were there, across from him the entire time. Every surgeon in your class is sitting in the gallery, damn jealous of you.

Peña watches you close up the patient and says nothing; you were perfection. 

You huff loudly upon completion, watching as Peña wipes his forearm across the sweat on his forehead. You despise him in this moment. Thankfulness fights your need for social justice. He can’t talk to you like that, belittle you, squish whatever confidence you had left. But you’re exhausted now and don’t feel like snapping in front of half the hospital. 

“We won’t know if he has full function until he’s awake. Page neuro and tell them they have a post-consult waiting for them.” His voice drips with exhaustion, rolling out his shoulders as he speaks, and you can’t help but watch as the broad muscles move under his shirt, tan skin now visible after the medical gown has been removed. 

Trailing behind him out of the OR, you strip your surgical gloves, gown, and mask in the trash as you try to calm your adrenaline. It never stopped beating; your heart, the strong and beautiful organ that it was, never stopped pounding. You can hear it in your ears, in your pulse, even thudding excitedly against your neck. 

It beat for your ambition, it beat for Doctor Peña. He’d never see you as his equal. Hell, he’d never see anyone as his equal. But today, he taught you. And you can’t think why. He has barely done his duty all year despite working at a teaching hospital where the residents are nearly quizzed on the minute by their attendings. 

Peña didn’t think anyone was worth his time, but he saw something in you today. Despite being thankful, you can’t help the anger you feel bubbling up as he smirks at you from down the hall. 

“What the hell, Peña?” 

Oh shit. 

The head of neurosurgery stomps down the hall in his navy blue scrubs, graying hair tucked under a scrub cap decorated by EEG waveforms. His eyes are narrowed on Peña, pointed finger at the ready. 

“Who the hell do you think you are? Your patient goes into paralysis and you don’t think to page me?”

Peña merely shrugs and sets his hands on his hips. “I did think to page you. And decided not to.” 

The head of neurosurgery scoffs in disbelief, raising his voice to a shout. “You’re too fucking- cocky for your own good! I could have done an assessment, they could gotten spinal cord ischemia- and a third-year resident of all people performing that surgery? What the hell were you thinking?!”

Fuck. Now you were brought into this, and standing at the end of the hallway couldn’t be farther away. Peña was as solid as stone, heat didn’t faze him. “She had it under control. She was perfect.”

Perfect. 

Neuro seems to smirk lightly, brain doctors who love to play mind games. “You two screwin’ around in the on-call rooms, too? Is that why you let her in on that surgery a fifth year couldn’t even perform? You pull that shit again, and I’ll-”

“You’ll what?”

Peña steps closer, narrowing his eyes on the short little man whose bark was louder than his bite. 

Neuro stutters for a moment, his posture shrinking. You can’t help but smirk, almost a little lightheaded at the way he steps in to protect your credibility. Peña was a dangerous surgeon to stick around with. His arrogance, next to his skills in the OR, could be taught by accident. 

Neuro grabs onto a slipping rope and sniffs as he glances around at the onlookers in the hallway. “Don’t think I won’t tell the Chief about what happened today. You and her are on thin ice.”

Peña smirks and pats his shoulder in a futile manner, pulling loose his scrub cap and running a hand through his jet-black tresses. “She had it under control. I wouldn’t have let her do anything she couldn’t handle. And if you talk about her like that again, I’ll knock your fuckin’ teeth out.” 

Peña’s already walking away, back to the angry little man. 

Your stomach bubbles with something unfamiliar, slipping behind the elbow of the wall and taking a shaky breath. You can’t feel anything besides the buzzing in your brain and the tremble in your hands. 

Doctor Javier Peña was defending your fucking honor. 

In Javier’s eyes, any surgeon can walk into an operating room and follow the procedure's already-written steps. They can rehearse, practice, and prep all they want. But the beauty of surgery was that it was both a science and an art. 

The heart was such an intricate, unpredictable thing. Healthy one minute, broken the next. 

Javier loves to read, but only for the plot twist endings—the ones you don’t see coming—which add richness to the story and make you fall deeper into the mystery. 

That’s why he loves the heart because it isn’t easy. It’s a challenge. He also loves that hearts make him feel special because not everyone can handle operating on a heart. That’s why people choose easier specialties. Cardio was hardcore. Javier was hardcore. 

Despite how difficult a cardio surgery can be, the surgeon must be gentle. Going too fast leads to mistakes. 

As if driving on black ice, you can’t twist your wheel too fast, or you’ll spin out and crash.  He was like that during his internship, even into his residency, but he carried raw talent that no one else could compare to. He was the star of his class, a surgeon who felt like he was more than a doctor, more than a God. A preacher to the soulless, a guide to the lost. He was his patient’s light at the end of the tunnel. He saved their fucking lives. 

In his eyes, heart surgeons needed to be sharks. He never met a shark who wasn’t fierce and damn near evil. It’s critical to success; to be a shark in the water, eager to see crimson. 

You were no shark—not yet. But your drive, dedication to the art, and willingness to work with him set you apart. He knows he’s not easy. But he’s never liked easy anyway. 

Javier slowly slumps down onto the edge of an on-call bed, smacking the light switch so damn hard that he thought he broke it. The room sinks into darkness, a velvet blanket of blue from the slight night sky slipping past the blinds. 

He was exhausted after today, the hours of his day stolen by back-to-back surgeries. His back ached, and his knees were screaming at him. But the comfort of a bed wasn’t all that he craved. 

You were brilliant, purring like a kitten whenever Javier stroked your ego. A younger colleague impressed him for the first time in months. 

God, you were young. What—ten years his junior? More? 

His face fell into his hands, heat flushing into his stomach at the thought of you. 

When he’s in surgery, the heart is all he can think about. But your eyes were on him for hours, watching him, learning from him—God, the things he could teach you. 

Suddenly, the door clicks open, and light floods the room, causing Javi to drop his head and squint. 

“We need to speak, Doctor Peña,” your silken voice evokes a sense of long-lost courage.  

You’re the last person who should be in his on-call room.

He groans and stands, eyes cast on your hand still nervously caught on the door handle. “Not now.” 

“Yes, now,” your voice wavers as you click the lock and cross your arms. His eyes drag over your body, hugged by the comfort of your soft blue scrubs. He can tell it’s taking everything in your body to control your temper, as he is still technically your boss. “You can’t just belittle me in front of the entire OR. No more calling me princess, no more calling me pretty. I’m a lot more than those pathetic superficial names, and you know it.” 

Javier runs his fingers down his nose, mutters something incoherent, and plants his hands on his hips before curtly jerking his head expectantly. “I said not now.” 

“You push me, you push me around, you push me in the OR, you just don’t stop-”

He snaps. 

“I push you to be great!” His brown eyes nearly turn obsidian as he locks you in his gaze. “You’ll be a better doctor when I’m done with you. You should be thanking me.”

You scoff indignantly and throw up your hands in frustration. You’re so fucking cute when you’re upset. “Thanking you?”

“Yeah. Thanking me. My ass is on the burner because I let you perform that surgery.”

“The one not even fifth-year residents could perform?”  

Peña pauses, his jaw shifting from left to right as he glances at the room's corner. “You heard all that, huh?”

There’s a lull, one that signifies you both know that he stepped in to defend his choices in the OR; specifically defending you. He watches as you slowly nod, pulling your hand off the doorknob and crossing your arms over your chest. 

“You didn’t have to do that. Now it looks like you favor me. I’m gonna get chewed out by the other surgeons, not to mention my entire class is going to think I’m sleeping with you.” 

Pena shrugs and purses his lips. “Let ‘em.”

He watches as your lips part, taken aback by his words. After a few doe-eyed blinks from you, the room falls out of focus, and it doesn’t feel like he’s standing in the hospital anymore. 

Javi imagines you in places he shouldn’t. At his place, in his apartment. On the couch. In his bed. He thinks about how different you’d look in the light of day, your body curved by jeans or even a sundress if the weather allowed. He’d be privy to the freckles on your back and shoulders, the dips of your hips, the slope of your body he wants to memorize with his eyes closed. 

But fantasizing wasn’t enough. 

“Let ‘em,” he mutters, low, and enclosing the space between your bodies. “If they already think that, let ‘em. Fuck ‘em.” 

Your face visibly softens, and your head naturally leaning into his hand that rests on your cheek. 

“I want you to teach me,” you whisper to him. And it’s so fucking soft, so sweet dripping from your lips, almost whining with need. 

He slowly nods as the room falls silent, Javi’s opposite hand coming to your hip, flushing your body against his. 

“Okay, cariño, I’ll teach you.” 

“Teach me,” you plead again, your chest heaving with anticipation. His eyes fall to the way your breasts protrude with each breath you take in your scrubs. The emotion that stirs in the room is enough to start a full-blown hurricane. 

Javi’s hands fall to the hem of your top, and you raise your arms swiftly, so pliant to his touches. But that’s your job, to anticipate his needs. 

The sight of your skin alone is enough to make his shoulders tighten, seeing you all pretty and exposed. A knot begins to grow in his stomach. But no, you weren’t done yet. 

“Please, Doctor Peña,”

No, don’t fucking beg. 

“I want you to use your hands and teach me.” Insistently, your fingers dip into your scrub bottoms, his eyes catching the pretty black band of your panties before the material is pooled on the floor. 

You stand there with soft eyes, wide and expecting. The longer he stands here, not touching you, it damn near looks like he’s hurting your feelings. But he’s not stupid enough to leave you abandoned. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, closing the distance in a matter of a second, his hands on your hips as he yanks your body into his firm front.

The kiss is tangled and heated, desperate and needy, so different compared to the subtle dance you both played before. But now it’s so obvious the pure need that consumes you both. 

Your small fists clutch his broad shoulders, and you moan into his mouth purely at the muscle built into his toned body. He licks into your mouth, and all he can think is how fucking sweet you taste. And how your pussy probably tastes just as sweet. 

Your fingers blindly reach for the light switch, flicking them off and sinking you into midnight once again. 

Javi tuts and shakes his head, breaking the kiss as he glares down at you. “You wanna see my hands work, cielo? Then you gotta watch.” He mutters as he flicks the switch back on, guiding you into the lower bunk of the on-call beds. 

He likes the way your hand slips from his cheek to the back of his neck, fingers gentle at first before clutching at the hair on his nape. 

Javi lets out an unexpected moan into your mouth as his body slots perfectly between your legs. His rough and calloused hands explore the smooth skin of your outer thighs. He squeezes and cradles the flesh with the perfect balance of strength and delicacy, the coarse hairs of his mustache scratching your skin as he presses kisses over your exposed breasts. 

He craves every breath that you take because of him, because of his actions. Your reactions are honest and instinctual, watching as you bite down on your lip because God forbid anyone saw you sneak into his room. 

Javi’s fingers are just as you expect, expertise as he unclips your bra with ease. He snatches away the black material, your nipples sensitive to the cool air as they peak under his eyeline. 

“Christ,” he mutters, his hot mouth on them in an instant. His tongue circles them meticulously before he suckles, lifting his head and watching as your breast is tugged into his mouth. A whine slips past your lips and he feels your legs tug tighter around his waist. It’s enough to get him hard, the way you won’t let him go, because this feels way too fucking good to stop. 

“Doctor Peña-”

“Javi,” he mutters upon letting your nipple go with a pop, moving to the other and showing it just as much affection, letting his teeth gently nip at the sensitive peak. “So fuckin’ pretty, princesa,” he mutters before sucking on a spot just above your breast, a place to mark his territory. 

You gasp at the feeling of his hot mouth on your skin, goosebumps flooding to his touches. You glance down through barely-open eyes as the skin changes color, from red to a soft purple as he draws blood to the surface. His teeth marks are still there even after he leaves, a smirk on his face as he slips lower to between your legs. 

“Javi, please,” you muster up, trying to regather air in your lungs. 

He shifts to his knees, one arm straight and hand planted beside your head as he hovers over you, the other finally slipping between your legs. Your lips part as he slowly swipes two up your center, seeing what makes you tick. 

His smirk widens as your eyes roll to the back of your head, biting down on the plush of your lower lip again to conceal a moan that surely would have slipped. He spreads you, letting his thumb pads delicately circle your clit experimentally. “So fucking wet for me.” 

Just as a moan emits, his hand is clamped over your mouth. 

“Shh, shh, shh,” he degrades, your eyes wide as the circles continue achingly. “Into my hand, baby girl, don’t want anyone else to hear you. Just me.” 

Your thighs begin to tremble as his thumb experiments on you, and you realize he’s learning. Everything is about learning for him. He learns and studies the heart, now he’s studying what makes you fucking soaked for him. 

The slow circles are enough to get you going, but as he continues to pick up the pace, he realizes you need more more more. 

His thumb moves faster and surfs the edges, it makes you twitch under him. His smirk widens as two of his fingers glide up and down your wet center, your hips nudging upward with neediness. 

“Wanna hear you,” he mutters, but you’re so scared to let out a peep. In this fog, you can’t even remember if you locked the door, and now your heart is pounding against your chest, the beautiful muscle that it is. 

“Come on,” he says goadingly, pushing two fingers into your entrance. Your eyes blow wide as you let out a soft sigh into his palm, followed by a wimpy whine. “Give it to me,” he mutters as his fingers start to move through your tight heat. He’s trying to find it, working himself deeper and deeper, curling them just right and finally-

His hand clamps harder down on your mouth as you let out a loud cry, eyes shutting hard as your body writhes against him. You leak out against his fingers, hearing them squish with your arousal as he smirks. “That’s fuckin’ right, feels so good to let it out, doesn’t it? You can gimme more,” he encourages, and you don’t think you fucking can. 

But he works against you so feverishly, the combination of his thumb on your clit and fingers fucking your entrance, once the seal was broken, it was hard to contain it. 

“Fuck!” You cry out as he scissors you open, separating his fingers and forcing your entrance to work itself wider for him. The noises are obscene, soaking his fingers as he continues to plunge so deeply into you. Your hand shakily reaches up to the bicep bulging beside your head, nails sinking into his tan flesh. 

His movements have your thighs beginning to shake as he searches, still learning, looking for that one spot that has you breathless. Then it fucking sucks the air from your lungs. 

You gasp against his hand and clutch his wrist desperately, feeling him massage the sweet, spongy part inside of you that has sparks going off at the base of your spine. Your eyes begin to water at the overwhelmingness of it all, him and his stupid fucking perfect hands. 

“Javi,” you pant against his mouth, because something indescribable is building. Your back arches against his body. He doesn’t even need to look at what he’s doing, he’s so distracted in watching you unfold. 

Finally, it’s all too much, and he’s got you in the palm of his hand. You can’t help but bite into his palm as you sob against his hand, his fingers so perfect inside of you, leading you to the crescendo of your orgasm. The build leaves you lightheaded, your thighs twitching against his hips as he purrs your name. 

“Just wanna little taste,” he mutters as he finally slips his hand from your mouth, still feeling the burn of your pretty bite. His chest lands on the mattress, and you sit up a bit to allow him space. 

Javi’s arms wrap around your legs, hands now on your inner thighs as he helps spread you open. You whimper, still so sensitive that you nearly twitch away as he moves in. “Aww, come here, sweet girl. Know you taste so good, don’t you?” 

You weakly nod and sink back into the mattress, your eyes falling closed as he slowly sponges kisses to your warm inner thighs. Your hole still puckers for the loss of his fingers, a groan leaving his throat at the sight. He teasingly flicks his tongue against your twitching clit, and it’s enough to make your entire body seize. 

“So fucking sensitive,” he mutters adoringly, spreading your labia and letting his tongue flush against the juices that soak his tongue. He audibly grunts against you and works slowly to clean you up. His eyes meet yours, and he reads your wrecked face instantly. 

You let out a hesitant moan, your fingers tiredly weaving into his dark locks and nails gently scratching along his scalp. His mustache tickles your clit and you try to breath through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

He was right, his hands were fucking perfect. Look at the way he learned your body, what it was chasing after, how it could be healed with his touch. You only with to give him the same. 

You sit up off your elbows, and he looks up at you with your arousal sitting silkily across his mustache. You cup his jaw, and he sits up with you, your mouth landing on his. You taste yourself, and it almost makes you shy, knowing Doctor Peña has tasted you. More importantly, made you cum with nothing more than his fingers. 

The opportunity to touch his body is one you didn’t realize you craved, small palms moving down his front. On instinct, he parts from your kiss and pulls his scrub top off. And God, you were right with every assumption. 

You knew he worked out, all cardio Gods adhere to the rule of working out to keep the heart muscle strong, but this was a different kind of strong. He was a Greek marble statue, all arms and toned chest and a waist you could easily tangle your legs around. 

“Jesus,” you breathe out.

Javi smirks confidently, his large hands cupping your face once more and tangling his tongue with yours. You swallow the lump in your throat and move your hand to his upper thigh, coasting your hand along until you feel his shaft protruding against his scrubs. 

“Take ‘em off,” you whisper. 

“Are you asking me or telling me?” He asks confidently, forcing a grunt out of your mouth as you tug against the hem. 

“Telling. Now off with them.” You command. 

He tuts as he stands from the mattress. “That’s my girl,” he mutters proudly, circling his thumbs along the waist of his scrubs before pushing them down, briefs included, stepping out of the material that pooled around his feet. 

You slowly raise an eyebrow, your lips parting at his size. No wonder he was so cocky. You sit at the edge of the on-call bed and he steps forward knowingly. 

“S’okay, pretty girl. Just wanna make you feel good.” 

You stubbornly shake your head and take his hands, guiding him closer as your doe-eyes meet his melting brown ones. 

“I can do it.” Wrapping a hand slowly around his length, your other hand rests on his thigh to allow some security. 

He takes in a slow breath, his eyes growing heavy as you spit along his length. 

“Fuck,” he mutters as his large hand gently comes to rest on the back of your head, fingers intertwining in your hair as he begins to clutch them possessively. 

It felt so good to be the one in charge, to be his guidance. He wants you so badly, your hot mouth wrapped around him, begging for his own release just as you were. 

You sponge kisses along his length, watching him almost in a taunting way, because you know he’s going to fall apart before you. Flatting your tongue and sticking it out, he grunts at the sight. Leaning forward, you take him in your mouth. Your tongue circles his beady tip and you get to enjoy the taste of his pre-cum on your tastebuds. 

He’s salty and musky, hours after a long surgery and it tastes divine. All man. All Javier Peña. 

Javi’s breaths are getting faster as you begin to bob your head, taking him inch by inch until you felt comfortable enough to really go for it. 

“Such a fucking- overachiever,” he grins, your nose brushing against the coarse hair along his base as your eyes clench closed, choking around him but not letting off. “Holy fuck,” he moans. Your nails sink into his thigh and he hisses, your one and only reminder for him to stay quiet. He pulls off with a pop, leaving you pouting as you stroke over his impressive length. He twitches in your hand and he’s so heavy in your palm. 

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, Peña,” you remind as you break to give kisses along his thigh where your nails created crescent moon shapes. 

“Got me so close, baby. Don’t wanna cum yet, though.” 

You pout but ultimately leave him with one last kiss to his shaft. 

Javi can’t seem to get enough of your kisses, tracing his tongue along your bottom lip as he moves you back onto the mattress once more. Your fingers glide down his body, feeling the ripples of his muscles that you hope stays engrained in your mind forever. 

Even if it’s just a one-time thing, you wouldn’t mind storing the way he makes you unfold so effortlessly, caring to learn your body and its cravings. 

“Please, Javi,” you whimper against his mouth, feeling the warmth of his body slipping between yours once again, and it feels like a home. “Need you.” 

He nods breathlessly against you, propping up the pillow behind your head. You’re not sure why it gives you butterflies, taking care of you more than just sexually. But he pats the pillow a few times nonetheless and centers it to the back of your head, not stopping until you’re smiling up at him. 

Your hand cradles his jawline, thumb gliding across his chin before his mouth is back on yours. His lips part as your gasp enters his mouth, feeling his hand guide his tip from your clit to your leaking entrance. 

“Wet all over again,” he mutters against your mouth, but acting surprised is pointless. 

“Uh huh,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before letting him envelop you fully. 

Javier listens to you, reads your body language. He feels you grow tense as his tip nudges at your entrance, feeling your legs tighten hesitantly around his waist. 

Your hands are soft on his back, moving along the carved muscles and following their runs like wild rivers. Perhaps it is a way you calm your nerves, touching his warm skin relaxes your walls. He’s able to push onward. 

“Jesus- Javi,” you whimper, letting him sink his length fully into you until he bottoms out in one thrust that leaves him groaning. The pillow he’s laid down for you is held by his fist, the veins down his arms bulging against your head. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” his chest rumbles, Javi starting to find a rhythm as he guides his length in and out of you. 

The first couple of strokes are dragging, aching. It’s hard to breathe and your nose brushes against his neck. 

Javier is so lost in the feeling of you, your tight little cunt squeezing repeatedly around his cock. The hand not holding him up runs up the side of your body, first on the outside of your thigh, then moving upwards to squeeze your ass in his large palm. You moan into his ear, and he does it again, both of you smirking against the kiss. Then he’s on your hip, following the pretty curve before he wraps his arm on the underside of your body, cradling your shoulder. 

It’s like a seatbelt clicking in, gasping as you feel him lock you into place. Your eyes widen as you look up at him, Javi coming to rest his forehead against yours as he begins to snap his hips. 

With the change in pace, the energy becomes charged with something less delicate. It’s like you were witnessing Javier’s two-sided personality, trying to learn and teach, and now, the arrogant, cocky shark. 

The drag, once painful, now feels heavenly, the ache becoming a sedative that has you cooing for more. He’s more relentless now, hips snapping into yours that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your jaw points to the ceiling, and he sees the opportunity for his lips to latch onto your neck. 

At the height of sensitivity, you feel everything. The sweat trickling down your temple, his teeth carving marks on your neck, your breasts pressed against his toned front; he’s all encapsulating. 

You whine as you squeeze around his cock, his hand on your shoulder pressing harder into your skin. He keeps you there, pounding into you, the coarse dark hair grinding against your clit so perfectly. Your core tightens, and you feel your second orgasm begin at its crest. He must be close, too, because he’s driving into you with ferocity. 

“Javi,” you cry against his neck, your nose brushing against his tousled hair, “I-I can’t.”

Javier shakes his head and moves the hand on your shoulder down between your bodies, finding your quivering clit and adding pressure to the small ministrations he starts on. His lips move to your ear, placing a kiss against the outer shell. 

“You can,” he demands in a stern tone, his hot pants fanning against your face as his aquiline nose nudges your cheekbone, “you can give me another one, cariño.”

He wants to see your star explode. See you dissolve before him into a million tiny sparks, fizzling into the night sky so he can take your beauty in fully, from inner soul to outer exterior. You were slipping into the void before him like a firework bursting. 

“Fuck, I can,” you pant, your head dropping back onto the pillow as heat slips down your spine and your vision goes dark. 

You squeeze his cock repeatedly as your orgasm surges through you, back arching off the mattress and your legs tightening around his slim waist. He can feel your pulsing clit against the pad of his thumb, feeling you gush around his dick as his balls slapping against your core grow slick with your arousal. 

From below, your vision is hazy, and he looks so fucking handsome. The surgical mask doesn’t do him justice. 

“You can come inside me,” you whisper as you lean in and nibble his earlobe, hearing him grunt at your comment. 

“Christ,” he mutters, “you have no idea what you do to me.” Javi gently tugs on your lower lip before he distracts himself with your kisses. His snapping hips begin to lose their rhythm, becoming more sloppy and erratic.

He was chasing the feeling, distracted by how perfect you were for him today.

The vein along his temple bulges as his desperate espresso eyes meet yours. All he needs to see is that little smirk of yours, and it sends him over the edge. 

His jaw drops, and a silent moan wants to slip out desperately, but somehow, he’s able to conceal it with low grunts of something that resembles your name.

You begin to feel his warmth spread through your core, making your insides fuzzy. He trembles; you both do. It feels like he comes for forever, but frankly, you don’t want it to stop. 

This feeling sits still inside you, humbles you, and centers you with the universe. Your life is hectic, and for one hour today, you’re not running around from one room to the next or getting chewed out by the senior doctors. This was the perfect stress relief; Javier Peña was a damn good break. 

His strong body collapses over yours, and any residual strength he has left is being held by a tiny string that keeps you from being crushed. 

He lays on his side, shoulder blades pressed against the cold cinderblock wall. He buries his hand in his face, and you wonder if he regrets what he’s done. 

Did he? 

“Thanks,” you whisper, reaching blindly for scrubs and accidentally tossing on his scrub pants in your orgasmic haze. 

“For what? And those are mine. You can have them in a few years when you’re an attending.” He hums, smirking as he pulls the sheets up to cover his lower half. 

You scoff and pull off the pants, switching out for your own after you clasp your bra behind your back. 

“For the lessons.” 

He watches you change, slipping your shoes back on and fixing your hair in the mirror. You try to ignore the feeling of his come slipping out of you, your legs as wobbly as a newborn calf. 

“Yeah? What did you learn?” He cocks an eyebrow and blindly reaches for a pack of cigarettes on the windowsill, propping open the window a few inches. 

Your eyes scan over him slowly as you tighten the tie on your scrub bottoms, a slow smirk gradually growing on your lips. 

“I know why you smoke.” 

Ignoring his intrigued face, you flip off the lights and leave his on-call room in a midnight blue film. The heavy door inches open, light shedding through and inching into the darkness. It clicks closed behind you just as your pager goes off, seeing that there is a message coming through for your newly reconstructed aortic arch patient. 

“Shit,” you mutter. 

The door swooshes open behind you, and Peña reappears dressed in his navy scrubs, surging past you. His shoulder knocks yours on the way out, and you can’t help but scoff. 

“Let’s go. Pick up the pace,” His voice is raspy and tired, but you keep his stride as you work your way towards the intensive care unit. 

Doctor Peña glances back over his shoulder, his smirk mirroring your own.  

Even a shark has its vices. Perhaps after tonight, you’re Javi’s. 

main masterlist | notifications blog if you enjoyed the read, commets and reblogs are super appreciated!

#javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javier peña #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #narcos fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña smut #javi peña smut #javier peña x reader smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena smut #javier peña fanfiction

[pennylanefics]

Morning Light - Quinn Hughes

a/n: once again, not entirely happy with this, but i've been struggling lately so it's no surprise. but i hope you enjoy anyways :)

summary: you and quinn just moved into a house together and you are getting used to the new changes

word count: ~1k

Sunlight filters in through the new, rather thin curtains covering the large window in your bedroom. You could hear birds chirping and flittering around in the trees, landing on the feeder you put up on the outside of the window to entertain your cat.

As your eyes slowly open, adjusting to the bright, natural morning light, you take a moment to look at the man sleeping beside you. Or, well, the man awake beside you.

Quinn stares up at the ceiling in thought, his eyes still full of sleep, but deep in his own mind, his arm remaining underneath your head, his fingers toying with the ends of your messy hair. His eyelashes flutter against his cheek as he blinks, not noticing that you are awake just yet.

You take a moment to admire his features, his pink cheeks appearing slightly flushed so early in the morning, soaked in the sunlight that he chooses to ignore. The way his green eyes are glimmering in the light as well, seeming unbothered by the fact that he was practically being blinded. His teeth were chewing on his bottom lip, a nervous habit of his.

The two of you had just moved into your first home together, a nice rental in Vancouver, just outside of the city, a beautiful view of the mountains in your backyard, a peaceful setting that the both of you very much needed.

It was very a stressful time, having to move things out of your apartment and then into the new home, which thankfully wasn’t too much since you were getting new furniture delivered that would better suit the larger space. But boxes of personal items, such as trinkets, clothes, decorations, and other utilities all remained to transport.

His parents were a huge help, as well as Jack and Luke, offering their abilities to help clean the place and do some work in the backyard. It had gotten to the point now where things were starting to settle in, but there was still a lot to be done.

Last night was the first night you slept in a real bed rather than just a mattress on the ground, and it couldn’t have felt nicer to be curled up under the new comforter, falling asleep to the gentle wind blowing in through the open window.

You get lost in your own thoughts gazing at Quinn that you barely even register that he turned his head to look at you, until he’s kissing the tip of your nose gently. Giggling softly, you hide your face in his shoulder, breathing his scent in.

“Morning,” he mumbles, his voice rough with exhaustion. He continues to play with your hair, beginning to kiss along all along your forehead.

“Morning,” you whisper back, raising your head back up to ask for a kiss from him. He gladly plants one on your lips, sighing softly into it.

“I think our couches are going to be delivered today, sometime between one and three. We can go out and get some lunch and then come back.”

“That sounds good. What time is it now?” Quinn grabs his phone on the bedside table, clicking it on.

“Almost nine.”

“Wanna make some breakfast?” You wonder, reaching up to play with his messy hair that had gotten so long. He was wanting to grow it out a bit, and you were loving it so much, his curls were appearing often and you loved being able to run your fingers through it when he rests his head in your lap.

A few more minutes of laying in each other’s arms, you eventually get up and head to the kitchen to get a start on breakfast. Quinn wanted pancakes and you wanted toast and eggs, so you made it all, as it was a day to celebrate, with your home almost being finished.

You started your favorite shared playlist on the bluetooth speaker in the kitchen and got to preparing everything, pausing here and there while the pancakes cooked on one side to dance with Quinn, your laughs filling the house, one moment of many to come in the years spent here together.

After breakfast, you get some small stuff done around the house, putting away extra clothes, decorating the bathrooms, and organizing the closet in your room.

By the time lunch rolls around, you get dressed in some casual clothes, the weather feeling lovely today, and head to your favorite restaurant in town, quickly being seated. The two of you chat over your plans for the rest of the day, what else needs to get done, and how you are going to decorate the living room.

Soon, you find yourselves greeting the movers who are dropping your couch off and helping move it into your living room. An hour later, once everything is moved in and settled in the place you chose for it, you and Quinn flopped down onto the soft, dark brown velvet couch, Quinn throwing his arm around you.

“We did it,” he whispers, kissing your forehead. Giggling quietly, you look up at him and nod.

“Everything is almost done, finally.” 

“We have to finish decorating in here and I think there’s a few more boxes for the basement to unpack. But we can do that another time, I want to have our first movie night in here,” he replies, nuzzling his nose in your hair.

“Sounds perfect to me,” you grin.

So that’s exactly what you did. Later that night, once you finish dinner and after showering, you get dressed in the cozy pajamas that Quinn’s mom gifted you two with for Christmas, you get all snuggled up on the corner of the sectional couch, a queue of your favorite movies up and ready to go.

As the movie plays on, halfway through, you get a sudden sense of love filling your chest as you take in your surroundings. You sit in your home, with the love of your life by your side, realizing that you’d get to do this for the rest of your life.

You gaze up at Quinn and smile widely. He was lost in the movie, not realizing you were staring, until he finally breaks out of his concentration and looks down at you, chuckling when he sees you are already looking at him.

“Something wrong?” He wonders with a slight smirk. You shake your head and kiss him sweetly.

“Nothing at all. Just happy.”

taglist: @petite-potato4

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfic #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks fanfic #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

[hqbaby]

six — i believe you

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.7k content. profanity, sukuna is a little gross, reader’s a bit of a menace

Satoru had heard about you. You had cultivated the perfect image for the public, the diligent, hardworking, sweet girl on the tennis team who had a smile for everyone. Most of them loved you, and those who didn’t were apparently only one conversation with you away from falling head over heels. He’d heard about you, but he didn’t buy it.

He had quite a reputation himself. Some kind of golden boy, a god among mere mortals. But he was well-aware that the whole facade was built on a few bouts of witticism, a few flirtatious jokes, a steady stream of good grades, and nothing more. People liked to believe in the idea of someone, so he never really bought the idea of you.

Until he saw it for himself.

He and Suguru had spent the morning on the basketball court. They’d been on a week-long bender of parties, nights out, and copious amounts of alcohol. Classes were starting up again in a few days and they decided they needed a reset. Get some fresh air. Touch some grass.

They were heading to the locker room when they passed by the tennis court. There was a small crowd gathered, mostly children who couldn’t have been older than ten—and you.

Satoru knew what you looked like. He’d seen you from across the hallway, a few tables away in the cafeteria, on the walkways between buildings. Friends had pointed you out on occasion, launching into gossip about the people you turned down, the matches you’d won over the weekend.

But when he saw you there, right beneath the blazing heat of the last bits of summer sun, crouched in front of a kid who was crying, holding a broken racket, he couldn’t help but think that you looked different. Better than how most people described you. 

Absolutely beautiful.

He must’ve looked stupid when he suddenly came to a stop on the other side of the fence. But he didn’t care. He was watching an angel come down to earth.

You were nodding as the kid cried, explaining what had happened to his racket. When he was done, you ruffled his hair and offered him the gentlest of smiles. You walked over to a bench, took out a racket from a bag, and handed it to the boy.

The kid’s eyes were wide. “But this is yours!” he said, holding the thing in his hands like it was made of gold. “I can’t use this.”

“Who says?” you told the kid playfully, patting him on the back as you steered him in the direction of the other children. “Come on, we’re here to have fun.”

“What are you doing?” Suguru snickered behind him. “You know, watching little kids is creepy. Just saying.”

Satoru shoved his best friend and shushed him. “Will you be quiet for once in your life?”

Suguru slung his arm around his shoulder and sighed. “You’re not gonna get her, you know,” he said. “Many have tried. None have succeeded.”

“Oh, yeah?” Satoru said, walking away. He glanced back at you one more time. You were standing now, calmly telling the kids not to whack each other with balls. “Watch me.”

“I don’t get it.”

Sukuna trails behind you as you load the grocery cart with boxes of Capri-Sun. The thing is already half-full with loaves of sliced bread, deli meat, and an assortment of vegetables. All of this, he decides, is worth more than what he spends on groceries in a week.

“I told you not to come,” you remind him. “You can fuck off if you want.”

You almost lose your balance as you lift a 24-pack of bottled water, but Sukuna’s quick to grab the thing from your arms and set it down with the rest of the groceries.

He smirks at you, grabbing the handle of the cart before you can get to it. “I dunno, tiger, seems like you need me here.”

You flip him off and march down the aisle to grab a few more things.

“You’re not even getting paid to do this,” he tells you. “Why are you putting so much effort into these kids?”

You shrug, leading him to the register. “They need to eat.”

“Their parents can feed them.”

“Some of them don’t.”

That shuts him up for once.

Sukuna has never questioned the fact that you’re a way better person than he is. He’s known you since high school, he’s watched you volunteer your afternoons to tutor elementary kids, seen you go out of your way to make sure your teachers got the best Christmas gifts, been with you as you attempted to make cupcakes for school bake sales. 

He always brushed it off as things you did to pad your resume, but he always knew it had something to do with you having better intentions than him.

This weekend gig of yours that you started in your second year of college is just another thing on your long list of “good deeds” that Sukuna keeps track of in his head. But he never realized how much thought you put into it until now.

“I can carry that,” you tell him as he grabs the grocery bags from you. “Sukuna, seriously.”

He just shakes his head, sprinting away to your car as you attempt to catch up after him. “Too slow!”

Your best friend has never been the best person. But you’ve always made him want to be.

He loads the groceries into the back of your car and pats himself on the back for a job well-done.

You glare at him as you close the trunk of your car. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

He boops your nose. “Nope.”

The two of you are about to get into the car when someone calls Sukuna. You both look over at the source of the voice.

A girl.

Pretty with freshly manicured nails, hair in perfectly blown-out waves as she runs over to your best friend. “Baby!” She squeals, pressing herself against his chest. “I haven’t seen you in so long!”

Sukuna tries to place the girl. Someone he met at a party maybe? From one of his classes? A match on one of the many dating apps he’s on?

“Oh, hi,” he says, blanking on the name.

“It’s Mari,” the girl says, fluttering her lashes at him. She pouts, pink lips jutting out as she looks up at him with doe-eyes. “Do you not remember me?”

Mari. Right. 

Yeah, she was a good fuck. Some of the best tits he’s ever seen. He bent her over on a bathroom counter at a rager once and… well, the rest is history.

“‘Course I remember you,” he says, smiling. He pulls himself away from her and looks over at you. You’re grinning, clearly amused by this whole interaction. What a whore, you’re probably thinking about him. “Listen, Mari, I gotta go.”

The girl whines and wraps her arms around his waist. “But why?”

“Yeah, why?” You raise your brows at your best friend, a laugh bubbling beneath your words.

Mari looks at you, barely registering your presence, then looks back at him for an answer.

Sukuna peels himself away from the girl and goes over to you, placing an arm around your shoulder. “This here’s my girl, Mari,” he says. “And we’ve got some errands to do today.”

“Your girl,” Mari says slowly. She looks at you again. It clicks. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Sukuna says, opening the car door for you. “So we gotta go.”

The girl’s eyes scan your body. She takes a moment, probably decides that she’ll get Sukuna back real soon. He’s never been the type to stick to anyone, she knows this. 

“Okay!” she says chirpily, already turning a heel. “See you around, ‘Kunie.”

As soon as Mari’s turned her back, Sukuna’s shoving your laughing form into the car and rushing to the passenger’s seat.

“It’s not funny.” He groans as you double over in laughter.

You wipe the tears of joy from your eyes. “You don’t even remember her name!”

“Shut up.”

“Your face! God, you should see your face!”

“I will kill myself.”

“And the nickname!” You howl. “What did she call you? Oh, fuck, right! ‘Kunie—”

His hand reaches for your chin and pulls your face right in front of his. Your eyes are wide as he tilts his head, leans forward, and… doesn’t kiss you.

“That shut you up, didn’t it?” he says, smirking at the stunned expression on your face.

You push him away and shake your head, starting the car. “You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah, well, you’re annoying,” he says as he leans back in his seat. “And, for the record, I’m not always that much of an asshole with girls.”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.” You hum, backing the car up. “You know you don’t have to turn them down.”

“What?”

You glance over at him. “Just because you’re helping me with this whole charade,” you tell him. “You don’t have to stop… doing the things you usually do. I don’t mind.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not doing this for you.”

“Right, because you would rather help me make sandwiches on a Sunday morning than go out with Mari.” You turn the car onto the road. “I’ve never approved of it, but I know who you are, ‘Kuna. I’m under no illusions of us actually playing house.”

Sukuna goes silent. He looks out the window with his arms crossed over his chest, as if he’s in deep thought—but you know him and Sukuna’s never been in deep thought for a second of his life. You’ve probably hit a nerve.

“Sukuna—”

“I’m not gonna let people think you’re getting cheated on so I can get my dick wet,” he tells you. His tone is serious. “I’m still your best friend, and if you think I’m gonna let you get hurt like that—”

“You’re not actually cheating on me though,” you remind him. “This is all for show.”

“I made a promise,” he says. “Let me keep it.”

When you look over at him, he has his eyes on you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Sukuna look this determined before and it almost frightens you.

You swallow. “Okay,” you say. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Okay,” you say again. There’s something happening here. Something solemn. Like a promise between two children made in the dead of night. One that no one else can be privy to. One that belongs to just the two of you. 

“Okay, ‘Kuna. I believe you.”

notes. the burn is so slow but i’m having so much fun with it 😩 you guys are gonna have to love it too you don’t really have a choice 😩 also we’re getting more insight into reader and gojo’s relationship so the angst is gonna hit us like a train real soon

#hqbaby.miu #hqbaby #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #gojo x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader

[11rosebunny]

Turn ons (BOFURIN + SHISHITOREN)

a/n: this is a repost from my wattpad, take this for now as i struggle for my exams…

Haruka Sakura

•Girls that fight back.

He's not so much of a romantic person so many of his turn ons do not have any correlation to anything that falls deeper into the aspects of romance.

But he does get off to the sight whenever you talk back to someone you refuse to let disrespect you. Even if you fight back with him, as much as he may seem he's annoyed, he's actually intrigued in the way you snap back making him grin at your remarks.

Some say he's sadistic for that (Suo).

Hajime Umemiya

•When you smell good.

He doesn't find it weird to openly go up to you and take a wiff of your scent. It was a complete accident the first time he smelt your aroma. You and him met up outside of school for the first time alone and because of that, he was able to smell your perfume.

He doesn't know why it gets him riled up, it's even come to a point when you two finally started dating, he wouldn't remove his head away from your neck whenever you were laying on his bed with him.

•Eye contact.

He absolutely digs the way whenever you two stare at each other. Something about the way your eyelashes bat at him as he falls into a deep gaze into yours makes him lose all sanity. He may seem like he's doing fine on the outside but on the inside, his itching to shove you to a wall and ask what you're doing to him.

Toma Hiragi

•When you're submissive.

This isn't put in a way to come off as sexual, it's whenever you simply comply to anything he says. It may sound toxic but he enjoys it when you listen to his orders, regardless if it stops you from doing something you really wanted to do, making you put on a jacket because it was too cold, ensuring you'll text him as soon as you get home, or when he tells you to help him with something.

Taiga Tsugeura

•Wearing his clothes

His wardrobe is quite boring to say the least; plain colours, bland shirts, and mostly shorts. But even so, he enjoys it whenever he walks by you and notices you're wearing one of his shirts.

He'll know right away that it's his due to the sheer size of it and the way it drapes on your body. It makes him go all giddy and smiley when he sees you. He has to look away or else you'll notice the blush dusting on his cheeks.

Mitsuki Kiryu

•When you're embarrassed.

There's a difference between being shy and embarrassed. If you so happen to get shy, he knows he shouldn't be finding interest in that because that's when you are genuinely nervous.

However, if you do get embarrassed, stuttering all over the place, blush creeping up on your face, eyes darting everywhere but his, a little alter ego of himself takes over in his head watching you melt into a puddle of ice cream.

He finds it so entertaining at the way you can't look him in the eye. He'll accuse you of going red and instigate your fumbling even further just for the fun of it.

Hayato Suo

•Accidental touches.

He tries to maintain being respectful but as soon as your hand brushes over his, his chest accidentally touching the back of your shoulder blade, the way youre faces get too close if he's helping you clean something off your cheek, it drives him nuts at the way you look at him.

He may seem calm and collected on the outside, but with how he's flickering his eyes to your lips and your eyes, you can tell if he wasn't holding himself back he probably would have smashed his lips onto yours by now.

Jo Togame

•When you make the first move.

He knows he's tacky for this but he can't help but to love the feeling of being chased by someone he likes.

He's all up for the way you two basically bicker with each other when he knows deep down you want him just as much as he does too.

He loves acting like he doesn't care till at the very last moment he'll say something so breathless that you'll be thinking about it for the next few days.

•Putting your hair up.

He also thinks he has a type for sporty girls due to the fact he just purely doesn't know what his exact type of women is.

If you're getting annoyed at the way your hair continues to fly in your face, need to focus, or simply just want to tie it, he loves watching the process of you tying it up for whatever reason.

Tomiyama Choji

•Fun to be with.

He has trouble being romantic and when he does, it's usually the worst thing you've ever experienced.

So if you two date, you have to expect most of your time with him to be more like fun play dates.

He likes the way you're able to make him laugh and want to do more menacing things with you, even if it ends up with one of you being in trouble.

•PDA.

You can argue this one to him but no matter what, he loves it when you publicly show others that your his.

If you hold his hand, take pictures with him in public, hold his arm, he thinks it's one of the best things you could do to show off your significant other.

It gives him the sense that you're possessive over him. As bad as that sounds, he loves it when you're willing to be aggressive to other people that try talking to him.

#wind breaker #windbreaker #windbreakerxreader #hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader #haruka sakura #haruka sakura x reader #taiga tsugeura #jo togame #mitsuki kiryu #toma hiragi x reader #toma hiragi #hayato suo x reader #hayato suo #taiga tsugeura x reader #mitsuki kiryu x reader #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker manga #tomiyama choji x reader #tomiyama choji #jo togame x reader

[lorarri]

★ . . . 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 , 𝐂𝐒𝟓𝟓

summary , your brother is desperate for you to like real madrid and is willing to do whatever it takes to get there

pairing , real madrid! footballer! carlos sainz x fem! alonso! f1 driver! reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | sol’s masterlist | f1 masterlist

BIG BRO NANDO

I come bearing great news!

LIL SIS Y/N

what have you done?

BIG BRO NANDO

I got your team to get you to do some pr with

*drum roll*

REAL MADRID

LIL SIS Y/N

you're really not gonna stop until I find football midly interesting, huh?

BIG BRO NANDO

yup

you are spanish

your lack of interest in the beautiful game is scary

and who knows you might find your future husband there

LIL SIS Y/N

I doubt it but okay

HEY JUDE

okay dude are we gonna talk about the tension between you and Y/N or....?

CHILI BOY

hola jude

also I have no idea what you are talking about

HEY JUDE

dude we allll saw you basically eye fucking each other the WHOLE TIME we were filming

CHILI BOY

.....

was I that obvious?

HEY JUDE

yes.

anyway cuz I'm such a good friend

I'm going to help you shoot your shot

so I invited Y/N to tonight's game and I also invited her to the after party

so you two can talk and get to know each other

cuz the quicker the two of you do that the quick you can get the team paddock passes and you two can get married and do it couple shit

CHILI BOY

wow...

thank you for removing my free will and planning my life out for me

HEY JUDE

what are friends for mi amigo

yourinstagram and carlossainz55 . 4hrs ago

seen by fernandoalo_oficial judebellingham 87,489,583 others

fernandoalo_oficial replied to carlossainz55 story!

hurt my sister and I will kills you

and I don't care if you play for my favorite team or not

judebellingham replied to carlossainz55 story!

so.....

when's the wedding?

cuz I was thinking summer

too soon my friend

carlossainz55 replied to yourinstagram story!

hola hermosa

I think you left your earrings at my place

and I think you should come get them

I wasn't wearing earings last night tf?

if you want me come over you could have just asked

okay

can you come over

sure as long as you buy me food

anything for you princesa

yourinstagram and carlossainz55

liked by fernandoalo_oficial charles_leclerc 87,479,459 others

yourinstagram and carlossainz55 #mycalvins w/ the love of my life

view comments

user MY WIFEY AND MY HUBBY TOGETHER???? SINCE WHEN???

user rue when was this

judebellingham took you long enough mate

user why goes my gut tell me nando had something to do with this

camavinga and finally he makes a moveee

user love how we are all losing our minds and planning a wedding in the comments section

vinijr when's the wedding and what color suit should I get?

user okay but how slay is this hard launch

aurelientchm one hard launch for chili one large step for man

user love that the madrid team saw this coming from miles off

fernandoalo_oficial !hala madrid!

user nando plz now is not the time for your madrid propaganda

user oh twitter must be in shamles by now

user at this point might as well rip up my 2024 bingo card

view more comments

fernandoalo_oficial and judebellingham . 2hrs ago

seen by yourinstagram landonorris 87,368,479 others

carlossainz55 replied to judebellingham story!

I owe you one dude

just make me the best man at your wedding and then we are square

and get killed by toni?

not a chance my friend

was worth a try

#꒰꒰ ‧₊˚📁 ─ lola's works ˚₊· ꒱꒱ #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #f1 fic #carlos sainz #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 social media au #social media #f1 #f1 imagine #formula one #formula 1 #f1 instagram au #cs55 #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz f1 #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz fluff #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one blurbs #f1 one shot #f1 fandom #scuderia ferrari #f1 x y/n

[jjkamochoso]

It's me again lol!! What about jjk men taking the reader on an aquarium date or like a museum date! ^_^

UR MIND >>>>>>> SO ADORABLE

Also I’m now including Ino because I can’t believe I’ve been forgetting to add my pookie in these

Enjoy and thanks for the request!!! <3

JJK Men Taking You on a Date to the Aquarium/Museum

Fluff

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Yuji:

“That fish looks like you.”

Your eyes fell to where Yuji’s finger was pointing. There was a huge fish with big, bulging eyes swimming in circles in the aquarium exhibit in front of you.

“Oh, really, does it?” You were thoroughly amused at your boyfriend’s antics, his grin widening as you played along. “This one is a spitting image of you.”

Yuji caught a glimpse of the fish you were pointing at and turned away from you, making you frown. Did you inadvertently hurt his feelings? The fish wasn’t *that* ugly. Besides, you both were joking around, but you never meant to go too far and make him sad. You tentatively put a hand on his back to get his attention.

“Yuji, I didn’t—”

He faced you again, this time sporting a quintessential fish face with his cheeks sucked in and lips protruding in a pout. You immediately started cracking up, and since laughter is contagious, especially among you two, so did he.

“There’s lots of cute fish here, but you were the cutest,” you finally said, making him blush. He grasped your hand tightly and you set off for another exhibit.

Megumi:

When Megumi asked you on a date to an art museum, you were elated. A quiet, calm activity like this was perfect for the both of you so you could enjoy each other’s company without many other people observing you. You walked side by side with the boy as you meandered through the exhibit that was showcasing artwork of animals in ancient civilizations. You stopped in front of a particularly cute sculpture of a dog, cooing softly.

“Megumi, look how adorable,” you said, and he nodded in agreement.

“Reminds me of my own,” he mused, referring to his divine dogs (you thought it was precious how close he was to his shikigami).

“Maybe we can bribe the curator with Gojo’s money to take it home with us.”

Megumi shot you a look. “Are you serious? I don’t think you can just take art like that.”

A few seconds passed.

“Can you?”

“I don’t know,” you said, “I was joking.”

Megumi was quiet as usual but the air about him seemed almost contemplative. After a few more seconds, he shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Gojo would probably break it anyway.”

“Wait, were you actually considering trying to buy it?” you questioned.

“Maybe.” The black haired boy shrugged, moving on to the next sculpture.

“Fushiguro the art collector, huh? Who would’ve thought you were so extravagant. Gojo’s spending habits must have rubbed off on you,” you teased, making him huff.

“Shut up,” he said, no bite to his tone whatsoever as you just giggled, cuddling up to his side as you continued on with your date.

Yuta:

“It’s like getting a million little kisses. I’m so in love with this creature.”

"Am I… jealous of a starfish?”

You were currently holding a starfish in your hands, its suction cups sticking to your skin, leaving behind a tickling sensation that you couldn’t get enough of. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, wasn’t a fan of your kissing analogy and was doing his best not to pout over something so silly.

“Yuta, come closer! It’s too cute not to hold.”

He couldn’t deny he was curious to see what the hype was about. People had flocked over to this exhibit in droves and you guys had waited in line to hold a sea star for an ungodly amount of time—he wasn’t going to miss out now. The handler put one in his hands too and he immediately understood what you meant earlier.

“They are really cute. I see what you meant by the whole kissing thing, that’s amazing,” he said, his voice laced with wonder and amusement as he watched the sea creature grip onto his skin. He then looked up and locked eyes with you, both of your irises alight with love.

“But I still prefer yours.”

Inumaki:

There’s plenty of fish in the sea but you’re the only one for me.

You raised an eyebrow at the words on the phone screen shoved in front of your face while you were watching some fish swim by in the aquarium tank. Toge, meanwhile, was dying laughing at his lame pick up line written in his notes app. Seeing his reaction made your lips quirk up into a mischievous grin as something came to mind. You pulled out your own phone and hurriedly began typing, thrusting it toward him when you were done.

I cod-nt imagine my life without you, Toge. You’re a reel catch.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your throat when you saw the grimace he wore.

“Fish flakes,” he said, putting his head in his hands and stifling giggles.

“My line was that bad, huh?” you asked, nudging him softly.

“Salmon,” he agreed, but the loving look he held in his eyes when they met yours again showed he was anything but bothered.

“You’re of-fish-ally the cutest boy I’ve ever seen,” you told him while ruffling his hair playfully, earning a loud groan from the blonde. He quickly typed out another sentence.

I’m so glad we go to the same school.

Noritoshi:

You were pleasantly surprised when Noritoshi asked you on a date to the aquarium. You figured he would’ve deemed it too childish or an experience not scholarly enough but you were wrong, now feeling the pull of his hand as he excitedly walked you around, pointing things out and chatting about things he had just learned.

“…and I just read that most fish don’t have eyelashes. Did you see that too?”

“Except for sharks,” you replied, a gentle smiling resting on your face.

“Exactly.”

Noritoshi took a deep breath as you led him to a bench to sit down and watch the jellyfish float around.

“I’m sorry for getting too passionate. I just feel like I can be myself here. There’s less… pressure, if that makes sense. Like I can learn things just to know them, not to impress anyone or get a good grade on something. It’s… nice.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I know what you mean,” you said, laying a comforting hand on his leg. Noritoshi rested his hand on top of yours and gave it a light squeeze, observing the entrancing dance of the jellyfish.

“They look so free,” he muttered. “I wonder what that feels like.”

Your head was now lovingly balanced against his shoulder as you squeezed his hand back.

“I promise you that one day you’ll know.”

Todo:

“Y/n! You have to watch this!”

You were happy to accompany Aoi to the local science museum for a date. You two were having a fun time exploring and trying out all the different experiments the museum had to offer. You weren’t sure what to expect when Aoi called you over to the experiment he had just done since you were enthralled in a presentation about lightning. You were confused when Aoi put his hand on a big ball, but all of a sudden, the hair in his bun became even spikier than normal.

“Static electricity!” he exclaimed, sporting a huge grin. Seeing how happy all of this made your boyfriend had you smiling from ear to ear as well. When he eventually took his hand off the orb, his hair didn’t quite go back into place.

“C’mere,” you giggled, gesturing to his hair, “I’ll fix it for you.”

“Thank you, my love,” he said, leaning over to where you could reach him. You combed the strands back into place and gave him a kiss on the cheek when you were done.

“You’re having a fun time today, right?” Aoi asked you, a rare moment of vulnerability from the muscular man.

“Of course, Aoi. Thank you for inviting me here.”

“No problem,” he replied, his cocky demeanor back as he winked at you. “Now, if you’re interested, there’s a presentation on superconductors in a few minutes. Do you want to see it?”

It always surprised you when you remembered just how smart your sometimes air-headed boyfriend really was.

Gojo:

When you invited Satoru to the science museum, he was extremely excited. Not because of the science aspect, no, but because he loved to eat the packs of freeze dried ice cream you can buy from the gift shop. You were busy reading a giant wall panel about physics when you felt the thunk of a head resting on your back and heard a sigh of exasperation.

“Are you finished yet? This is boring,” Satoru said, mumbling into your shirt.

“I’m trying to learn, Satoru. It wouldn’t kill you to learn something either. You’re a teacher, aren’t you supposed to have a thirst for knowledge?”

“I have a thirst for soda,” came a muffled reply from behind you. You rolled your eyes, going back to reading. Satoru kept fidgeting and you found yourself getting frustrated at his lack of focus.

“Since you know so much, why don’t you tell me about relativity and quantum mechanics?”

“Quantum mechanics studies the world by looking at just a few small particles like photons and electrons. Relativity is the theory of gravitation that Einstein proposed around the same time as quantum mechanics. General relativity studies the construct of space-time and gravity, while special relativity studies special conditions and scenarios, such as length contraction, which is where an object is moving near the speed of light and its length actually shortens. See, I already know this stuff, so can we pleeeease go to the gift shop now?” Satoru whined, throwing his head back in an exaggerated display of boredom. Your mind was still reeling over the fact that your boyfriend was… ridiculously good at science and never bothered to tell you?!

“I… yeah,” you said, completely dumbfounded. Satoru ignored the confusion in your voice as he cheered, grabbing your hand and leading you to the gift shop.

Geto:

You and Suguru were taking your time walking through the museum he chose for your date. It was nice to walk with him, holding hands and enjoying deep conversations about the pieces that were showcased in each exhibit. You came up to a bench in front of a particularly large infographic and took a seat, your lover sitting next to you. After he knew you were finished reading, he asked you the few little words he assumed would set you off on a passionate tangent (he was right).

“So, y/n, what are your thoughts on this topic?”

As you began to analyze everything you just learned, Suguru watched you intently, but not in a negative manner; he was just so genuinely interested in what you had to say that it was like the whole world around him disappeared every time you opened your mouth. He nodded along, hearing you bring up things he hadn’t even considered yet.

“I’m lucky to have a partner who’s so intelligent,” Suguru cooed, his thumb ghosting over your jawline, initiating this romantic moment like you two were the only people in the building. To him, you were the only people that mattered anyway, so what was the point in hiding how he truly felt?

Nanami:

“C’mon Kento, it’s not as scary as you think it is. They’re completely harmless.”

You were currently trying to get your boyfriend to pet the stingrays but he was not having any part of it. The color had drained from Kento’s face when you submerged your hand in the clear water, feeling the smooth surface of the rays under your fingertips. The blonde man wasn’t afraid, per se, but he didn’t think it was the wisest decision to be touching such a dangerous animal.

“Y/n, I just don’t think it’s a good idea. What if you provoke them?”

You were about to laugh when you saw he was genuinely distressed. Frowning, you stood up and tried to dry your wet hand the best you could before reaching out to him.

“Kento, honey, it’s alright. They have to be really angry to sting people. I promise you’ll be alright if you try it.”

Kento relented and leaned over the touch tank, hesitantly placing his hand in the water next to yours. When a ray swam under him, the rubbery texture gracing his skin, he immediately tensed up. Your unoccupied hand landed on his arm as encouragement and it seemed to help him relax a bit. A few more stingrays came over to him and Kento finally calmed down, smiling as he greeted his new friends.

Ino:

“Babe, look, that’s literally us.”

Ino caught your attention away from a particularly interesting exhibit about seaweed as he pointed to a diagram that displayed two fish with their mouths on each other.

“Ino, that’s very sweet, but I think they’re fighting.”

Your boyfriend leaned closer to read the tiny print, his hands in his pockets in a display of nonchalance that you always found supremely attractive.

“Oh, you’re right! They try to flip each other over like that. It’s like the Spider-Man kiss but more badass.”

You shook your head, lightly chuckling as you linked your arm in his and continued walking through the aquarium. All of a sudden, you gasped and tapped Ino’s arm excitedly.

“Oh my god! This is literally us!”

Ino’s eyes went wide and his smile grew bigger. You were showing him to a video that displayed otters holding hands as they drifted in the water.

“Yeah,” he said dreamily, resting his chin on the top of your head as you watched the animals on the screen, “it is.”

Choso:

You were sitting in a dark room of the planetarium, looking up at a projected sky full of stars with your handsome boyfriend. Choso had his arm wrapped tightly around your body, hand resting on your waist as your head was nestled against his shoulder. You sat there quietly, enjoying the peacefulness of the exhibit. The sight of the stars above you changed into a slow spinning view of the earth and you gasped lightly.

“Woah, look at how beautiful our world is.” You didn’t hear him reply, which was unusual, so you lowered your eyes from the spectacular scene above to look at the man next to you.

“You’re my world,” he stated bluntly, unrelenting gaze boring into your own. “You’re the brightest star in the galaxy of my life.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you said, trying not to show how flustered you got over his beautiful words. He just drew you in closer, adamant to never let you go.

Toji:

“How does this piece make you feel?”

“Like I’ve been here for hours and I’m hungry.”

Toji wasn’t the biggest fan of the art museum you dragged him to but you were glad he allowed you to take him here in the first place. It meant a lot to you that he would willingly go somewhere like this that completely disinterested him, but he would go to the ends of the earth to please you.

“There’s a cafe around here if you wanna go eat,” you said, paying him no mind as you studied the painting that grabbed your attention.

Toji scoffed. “And leave you here by yourself? No way.”

Your focus was now broken, instead trying to stifle a laugh at his overprotective behavior. “The art isn’t going to kidnap me, you know.”

“I know,” he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest, “but some dude might see a smart, attractive person like you by yourself and think he has a chance.”

“And I need my big, hot, uninterested-in-art boyfriend to keep an eye out for me?”

“Exactly.” Toji smirked at you while you rolled your eyes playfully.

“I appreciate that. I’ll finish up here and we’ll head to the cafe together then?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You went back to your contemplative state while Toji’s eyes wandered the room. He would never tell you this, but he found many of the pieces actually interesting and hoped you would take him along to more places like this in the future.

#yuji itadori x reader #megumi x reader #yuta x reader #inumaki x reader #noritoshi x reader #aoi todo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #ino takuma x reader

[twstowo]

Hello!! Idk if ur doing requests but ahem cld i maybe request like a clingy yuu/reader with the second years and malleus?? like the reader is constantly following them around, and stuff,, like a small Floyd typa reader ^_^ i really love ur writing and i wld rlly love to see this dbsnsn if it's not a problem ofc!! :D

♡︎For context, Bestie Anon sent this ask on 20th of february and I’m only answering now, I would like to apologize for this, no like fr, ANON I will buy you cake if you want, LIKE FR what I did is criminal

⋆⋅☆Malleus:

Who gave you permission to be this adorable? Malleus loves you so much. He loves the attention you give him, the fact that you want to spend YOUR TIME WITH HIM AND THAT YOU CLINGE TO HIM?! He is in love. No, you don’t understand, he is IN LOVE. You make him feel so soft, and he will fight anyone for you. He wants nothing more than to spend the whole day with you and talk for hours and he isn’t ashamed to show it. He will literally teleport next to you as soon as he remotely starts missing you.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Riddle:

He is flustered with your clinginess. You are always way too close for his own liking but he doesn’t have the guts to tell you anything you make his heart go BUM. The type of guy that when you two are alone he will also be clingy, not right away in the beginning of the relationship, but if he sees that you are clingy and that you are fine with being close to him he will start thinking that maybe it’s also fine fro him to open up and be like that with you too.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Ruggie:

He is also into it, he is the type of guy that if you hug him he will joke about you being so clingy but then he is the last person to let go of the hug, if you don’t let go of him he will just stay there in your arms for the rest of the day. Enjoys your company so much to the point he will feel weird if he doesn’t see you for a whole day. Show up at your dorm with food, that he buyed with Leona’s money, and spends the rest of the day cuddling with you.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Azul:

I’m a firm believer that he is also really clingy BUT he has this image that he must maintain for his business. Politely pats your back if you too are in front of people and tells you to meet him back at the VIP room later, when he arrives to the VIP room he literally won’t leave you, he would stay the whole day attached to you if it wasn’t for his work. Floyd once took a picture of Azul laying on your lap while you patted his head on the VIP sofa, up to this day Floyd keeps on blackmailing Azul with it.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Jade:

He will just do that “Oya?” and laugh at your antics. Maybe he plays around with your hair while finding your clinginess endearing. I do see Jade as someone who tends to feel lonely since he doesn’t have many people to talk to or join him in his hobbies. So if you give him all that attention that he never had, he will probably want to return it by giving you his full attention whenever you speak about your interests. He is still a bit of a tease, but he can’t deny that he enjoys all the attention you give him.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Floyd:

If this guy is in a good mood, he will be so annoying, with annoying I mean you two are going to be clingy with each other, and if you want to leave him, because you need to go to class, you won’t. He won’t allow it, you aren’t going anywhere anymore. His arms are your new home, you don’t need anything else. Type of guy that will spot you and just hugs you and just lift you up and takes you whenever he feels like going at the moment, you two will now be going on a date.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Kalim:

You guys legit made Jamil throw up. The two of you are so clingy, when Kalim sees you he literally never lets go of you, as soon as he spots you you will be spending the rest of the day with him, and he keeps on hugging you, giving you little check kisses or hold your hand and YOU you just retrieve all of his affection tenfold.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Jamil:

Oh no. He isn’t found of public displays of affection as I have stated before, but once you two are behind closed doors he is fine with it, he doesn’t mind you dotting on him that much, the hugs and kisses and all the attention that you give him, quite the oposite he actually really craves all of that. He will have a hard time retrieving the affection through, but give him some time and he will slowly start open up about all of those sappy interactions.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Silver:

I’m a firm believer that Silver is an extreme soft boy that loves affection and YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND. Of course that his image of affection was different than yours, type of guy that does lots of acts of service, whatever you need, call him and he will be there, so when you start being clingy with him that open a door that he had never really though about and he loves it. He won’t be as clingy as you are but he will always try to retrive you affection even if in small gestures, you hug him? He gives you a small kiss on top of your head. You hold his hand? He kisses your wrist.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst reader #twst x reader #x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #twst silver #silver x reader

[ciwzing]

༉ 𝗚𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗽 𝗕𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀

🎀 incld: satoru, sukuna, choso, & geto

🎀 gn! reader

🎀 ‟there's no better quality time than gossiping with your boyfriend ”

𝗚𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂

biggest gossiper

literally has a time of your guys day specifically for where you guys just sit on your guys bed cozy, wrapped in each other's arms to talk shit or spill some tea about other people.

has a code name on everyone he and you guys don't like

“ain't that dora over there”

“yeah that's them, that wack ass haircut really stands out from the crowd"

will always make an eye contact with you whenever you guys hear or see something ridiculous, trying to hide his snickers with a cough

“baby, did i see that correctly”

“definitely, saw that shit clear as day”

AND you know you're gonna hear about it once you guys are home.

if he ever enter your home with a loud thud and a call of your name always followed with a giddy giggle YK THAT HE BOUTTA SPIT SOME SHIT🤭

“Baby!! you never guessed what just happened!”

ALWAYS gives you the best reaction to your gossip, never failing to let out the most exaggerated gasp ever

prob has those senses if you have gossip to spill, if Spiderman has spider sense, he has a bitch’s sense and it never fails him.

𝗞𝗮𝗺𝗼 𝗖𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗼

didn't really grasp how gossiping works the first time tbh ╥﹏╥

“didn't we hate this person? why did you just talk to them then?”

baby it's called playing nice

type of bf that if you hate someone, he gotta be their hater too

GIVES THE MOST FUNNIEST YET CUTEST REACTION EVER

“Baby guess what, remember the girl that I told you about yesterday that's been soft launching her man?”

“Yeah?”

“Her man is actually her COUSIN!”

“∑(; °Д°)”

every time you keep dropping bomb after bomb his expression just became more concerning

“oh my god, baby are they okay? (;° ロ°)”

“its fine, we hate this person”

“oh, fuck them then”

“yeah fuck them!”

(｀∀´) (⋋‿⋌ )

learns some of the most juiciest gossips BUT ALWAYS FAILS TO ASK FOR DETAILS

“That one clingy couple in our class just broke up suddenly, and they look they hated each other's guts”

“WHAT, WHY?!”

“I don't know I never asked”

𝗦𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗥𝘆𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻

you don't how he does it, but whenever you have some anger or tea to spill, he's ready every fucking time.

“who we gonna hate today, pretty?”

LOVES gossiping, not because he cares about other people, but because he loves talking shit about them

has the most creative insults tbh

you sometimes have to pause to take in what he had just said

doesn't remember all the ppl you shit talk about, you have to remind him with the stupid names he calls them

“Remember the guy that I told you about last week?”

“Baby, you have to be more specific about that”

“Omfg, the one you compared with megamind!”

“oh that motherfucker, yeah i remember him, all that forehead and can't think for shit, that's crazy”

probably the type of person that purposely points at the person you just talked about to tease you.

𝗚𝗲𝘁𝗼 𝗦𝘂𝗴𝘂𝗿𝘂

a secret gossiper tbh

ALWAYS has something interesting going on with his gossips, you could never guess just what shit he's about to say next

drops the most gasping bombshell like it's your random Tuesday

“oh yeah, one of our professors just got fired since he allegedly had an affair with one of his students”

the type of person that's quiet but he knows all of the shits about so many people, like How'd you get this information sir? (°△°|||)

ppl trust him too much that they spill so many things in front of this man, but they don't know you're the first person he goes running back to talk about it.

“they said I can't tell this to anyone…but you know that girl-”

gives the biggest stank eye when the person y'all hate walks past him AND HE AIN'T TRYNNA HIDE IT

Can and will shit talk about the person right in front their fcking face.

"Heard you talking shit about me?"

"Want me to tell you again? you might missed some details"

likes and reblogs are appreciated<33

#reader insert #gn reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jjk satoru #jjk choso #jjk sukuna #satoru fluff #sukuna x reader #choso x reader #geto x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk hcs #jjk drabbles