#who says first drafts are never good? look at what i made and say it to my face
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Part 4 of the Intridimensional au! Fic this time because I do what I want.
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Ford waved goodbye to Fiddleford and made his way towards his boarding flight. He honestly had no idea what he was getting into, but Fiddleford had struck down every one of his excuses and booked a flight for him. He couldn't think of any other reason to not go aside from just flat out telling Fiddleford about Bill, but he still wasn't ready for that conversation.
He definitely wasn't ready to see Stanley again either, but Fiddleford was right, he couldn't ignore a call like the one he had gotten. He hoped it was all just a misunderstanding, that Stanley had gotten drunk or high and was just being dramatic, but his gut told him otherwise. Maybe it was something about the sincerity and pain in Stanley’s voice, or maybe it was just the suddenness of the call. Ford didn't know. He would just have to find out.
He boarded the plane easily enough and took his seat. It was already after 8:00pm and they wouldn't be landing until after 10:00pm, so he could at least try and get some sleep before dealing with whatever was waiting for him in New Mexico. He was asleep before they reached cruising altitude.
He opened his eyes what seemed like only moments later and found himself in a familiar blue void.
“Hiya, Fordsie! Isn't it a bit hard to work on a portal from 10,000 feet in the air?!”
Ford looked up to see Bill floating a few feet in front of him.
“My Muse! I apologize, something came up. I plan to be back in Oregon tomorrow, so the portal is still on schedule!”
“Right! I heard all about it! The dumb version of you got himself in some trouble, huh?! Shouldn't be that big of a surprise! I say just let him learn his lesson! Who needs him?!”
“I promise this won't get in our way, but he is still my brother. I can't just let him…”
“Die?! Why not?! He ruined your life! Now he's ruining his own!”
Ford winced at the word ‘die’. He may still be mad at Stanley, and he was stressed about leaving the portal project at such a crucial time, but this wasn't like when Stan got kicked out ten years ago. This was something more, and he would never forgive himself if he didn't at least try to help.
“Well-” Ford sighed. “I'm not sure how to explain this, Bill. I just can't leave him to…”
“Die?! Don't be so afraid of that word! Humans are dying all the time! It's what your kind is best at! Hah! But don't you worry, you still got a while left!”
Ford frowned as Bill floated closer, narrowing his eye like he was considering something.
“Fine, Fordsie.” Bill said after a moment. “Go help that wannabe pirate, hah! Just don't let it take too long! You have a portal to finish!”
“Thank you, my muse. I promise I won't let him distract me. I just have to make sure he's alive.” Ford said, smiling.
“Yeah, yeah! Just keep him away from the portal! You know what happened last time he got too close to one of your projects! Hah!”
Ford grimaced, but nodded.
“Good! Just don't come cryin’ to me if he's already dead! Hah! Byee!”
Ford woke with a start, nearly hitting the passenger next to him.
“Sorry!” he said quickly.
The passenger just frowned and scooted slightly away from him. Ford hid his hands in his jacket pockets and turned to stare out the window. It was probably best to stay awake for the remainder of the flight.
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This is some first draft material, friends. I didn't even try to read back over it. I might one day, but not today!
The next part will also be fic, then maybe more comics... Who knows! I don't!
This is obviously all backstory as to how they all ended up in Gravity Falls together, but there will actually be going into the portal and portal adventures eventually.
Once I have a bit more content I will post all of it on ao3 to make it easier to follow!
Again, this is Part 4!
Part 3 here!
Part 5 here!
#gravity falls#stanford pines#fiddleford mcgucket#gravityfalls#fiddauthor#ford pines#stanley pines#bill cipher#gravity falls au#Intridimensional#intridimensional au
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So I did a commission a week or so ago and it was for magical mid-twenties Mikey crying golden tears. Well I had a first draft sketch that I loved too much to discard, so I turned it into a full art piece and I really liked it so here ya go kiddies eat up the free food
I think I broke the sound barrier from how fast I ascended with this
I did not mean to pop off that hard I was just honestly having fun experimenting with light effects and got lost in the glamour of future Mikey
#who says first drafts are never good? look at what i made and say it to my face#screw you hemmingway#god-tier#mikey fanart#future mikey#mikey angst#magic mikey#mystic mikey#magic tears#crying#sobbing#rise michelangelo#rise mikey#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt michelangelo#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt#rottmnt fanart#watch me razzle dazzle myself out of existence#drawing commisions#you didn't even have to pay to see this#i did this just for me
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LOVER'S QUARREL
- fushiguro megumi x reader
“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.
genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)
note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
general masterlist
Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.
And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.
But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.
You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.
You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.
So how dare he spout this now?
“I can't do this anymore.”
"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"
"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."
This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.
You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"
"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."
Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.
Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.
"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"
Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"
"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"
In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.
And yet...
"...I'm sorry."
Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.
And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."
As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.
Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."
You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.
Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.
Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.
"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.
"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."
"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"
"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."
"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."
. . .
"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.
Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”
Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”
“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”
He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.
Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…
How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?
Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.
With Hakari.
“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.
An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.
Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.
“Megumi?”
Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?
“Megumi!”
“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”
He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."
But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.
"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"
"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.
From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.
...huh?
Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?
What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.
Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—
Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.
How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.
How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.
But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.
“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?
Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?
They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.
What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?
You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!
You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...
"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.
You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."
This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?
Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.
"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.
Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."
You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.
Stay close, he said... So he is worried...
And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.
You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"
"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.
"You two seem close."
Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?
Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"
In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.
You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?
"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.
Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.
But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"
Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.
For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.
Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.
And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"
"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"
He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.
You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"
"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.
"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.
"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"
Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—
At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.
He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—
Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.
You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.
Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.
And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.
"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"
You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.
It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.
"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."
Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.
"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.
"Don't leave me."
It was like a distant, hazy memory.
Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.
The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.
You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.
Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.
Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.
Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...
You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.
"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."
When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.
"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."
You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.
“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.
He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.
"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.
However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."
...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?
"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."
"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"
"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"
“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”
Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.
"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"
You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.
You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"
"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.
He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."
And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."
Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."
And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.
“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”
A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.
But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."
And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.
"Maybe I am, yeah."
"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."
"Yeah..."
But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.
On one sunny day...
"Hey, are you alone?"
Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.
"No. Can I help you?"
The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"
The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—
Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.
"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."
Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.
"Megumi!"
Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—
He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.
"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"
#fushiguro megumi x reader#jjk x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader angst#megumi fushiguro x reader fluff#megumi fushiguro x reader angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader fluff#fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk imagines#fushiguro megumi fluff#fushiguro megumi x y/n#fushiguro megumi angst#jjk#megumi fluff#megumi fushiguro#jjk angst#jjk fluff
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♡ 𝆬 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇
𝓹airing , quinn hughes x bsf!reader
quinn leads the canucks to round 2 of the playoffs and no one is happier than his best friend who is a life long canucks fan. . . (wc ; 1845 )
꒰ 𝓷ote , this is set during last years playoffs. it’s been in the drafts a while!!! as always I hope you enjoy <33 . . . ꒱
your heart jumps in your chest when you feel arms loop around your waist from behind, your mind distracted as you watch the sunrise out quinn’s floor to ceiling apartment windows. your erratic heartbeat calms when you recognize the cologne of your best friend. he tightens his arms around you, burying his head in the crook of your neck and you giggle as his beard scratches against your skin. you wiggle in his arms until you’re fully turned around, looping your arms around his neck and smiling up at him brightly. quinn feels this weird feeling in his stomach looking at you, as if every nerve cell under his skin starts buzzing when he lays eyes on you.
he was forever jealous of how much joy you had in the morning, not because he felt the need to erase his hatred for early mornings, but because he wanted to be the only reason for that expression on your face. he wanted all your smiles to be as a result and directed towards him. that’s how deep quinn’s affection went for you, that he harboured irrational jealousy towards the sun for making you happy. but he’s never been good at sharing his best friend’s attention and affections with anything or anyone else, even his brothers who were utterly obsessed with you when they met you in quinn’s first year on the team, who quinn has always been more than happy to share with. you were the one thing that quinn wanted all to himself.
“good morning sunshine,” you tease, running your hand through his hair and he responds with a simple groan against your neck.
“or should I say… good morning captain of a team who made it to the second round,” you state, pride obvious in your tone and quinn lifts his head to give you a dopey smile.
“there he is!” you tease and quinn squeezes your hip in response before reaching behind you to pick up your cup of coffee.
“um sure, just drink all my coffee, when the full pot is right there,” you say sarcastically and quinn takes another big sip, lips quirking up at your annoyed frown.
“what’s yours is mine. and what's mine is yours, clearly,” quinn says drily, tugging on the edge of his dress shirt that you were wearing and you pout slightly.
“I showered this morning, and it was warm, right from the drier,” you defend and quinn smiles softly, tugging you closer by the material and wrapping you in a bear hug. he just holds you for a few seconds and you smile thinking about the first time you heard the guys refer to quinn as “huggy bear”. your guy’s always loved a good hug.
“I have a team event coming up after the playoffs. like an end of the year banquet type of thing, will you go with me? I know you’ve been to like ten events with me this year and you’re probably sick of them by now so if you don’t want - ” quinn says but you interrupt before he can finish.
“I’d love to go with you. I never get tired of seeing captain quinn in action. I have fun, all I have to do is stand and try to look pretty while you woo people,” you say and quinn scoffs.
“you don’t have to try. you’re always the most beautiful girl in the room. and I don’t know how much wooing I can really do-”
“a lot. these people and this city adores you quinn. I don't think you realise just how much you mean to this organisation,” you say, and quinn feels a lump in his throat building a little as your words hit him. you grew up in Vancouver and you’ve been a diehard canucks fan since you were a kid, so quinn knew you weren’t just saying this because you were his friend and you wanted to make him feel better about himself. you genuinely believed it. and that unwavering faith you had in him meant more than he could ever put into words, so he doesn’t even try and instead just presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, hoping it’ll say everything he can’t seem to articulate.
–
you attend all home games in the second round, just like you did the first, you and ellen cheering until your voices go away all the way until the canucks get eliminated. you were once again amazed by quinn and the graceful way he handled the elimination, knowing it was about progress, not necessarily perfection and the canucks had made tremendous progress this past season with him leading them. of course it didn’t hurt that he had you reminding him of that the few days after the brutal loss, asking you to stay with him while he wraps things up for the end of the season, claiming it was so that the two of you could spend more time together before he heads to michigan for the summer.
it wasn’t unusual for you to stay at quinn’s place though, and you had done so many times over the course of your friendship, and it seems to happen more often as the years go by. you had probably spent more time at his apartment this past month than your own. you don’t even bother staying in the guest room anymore, opting to sleep next to quinn as the two of you always fall asleep while watching a movie or reading side by side in his bed at the end of the night.
you awake like you do most mornings when staying over at quinn’s, with his arm thrown over your stomach, and his soft breaths against your neck, one leg intertwined with yours. you successfully sneak out quietly, going to the living room and doing your daily morning scroll through social media while waiting for quinn to wake up but the bed must have been colder than usual without you because it wasn’t even five minutes after that he woke up and entered the living room with a tired groan, collapsing next to you on the couch and nuzzling his face into your chest as he mumbled, “why you awake so early. come back to bed,”
“quinn,” you say softly, as not to startle him but the hesitancy in your voice makes quinn lift his head and meet your eyes with a sleepy little squint that makes your heart squeeze.
“what’s wrong?” he asks with a yawn, immediately knowing something was bothering you and leaning on his elbow so he can meet your eyes.
“you know how I follow some canuck fan accounts?” you ask and he furrows his brows
“I told you to unfollow them,” he points out, smiling slightly at the guilty look on your face, only realising now his body was plastered to yours but he didn’t want to move and you didn’t look like you were uncomfortable with the closeness, so quinn just snuggled closer, his thumb rubbing soothing patterns on your hip.
“I am ‘nucks fan to my core quinny. I can’t just unfollow them,” you argue as if it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard and he chuckles slightly at your dramatics.
“you can if what they’re saying upsets you. what you see?” quinn asks, and you hesitate for a second before telling him, knowing his reaction was gonna affect you, whether you wanted it to or not.
“pictures of me and your mom sitting together. and pictures of the two of us leaving the game together. us at dinner with your family and me wearing your jersey. there’s one of us at a bar with the team and we look …” in love, you think but can’t voice it. “cosy. people are speculating that we’re – you know, together.” you explain, biting your lip anxiously and quinn gently tugs it out from between your teeth, running his thumb over it.
“oh,” he replies, distracted by the thumb still against your bottom lip.
“oh? that’s all you're gonna say?” you ask, grabbing his wrist and pulling it down to your stomach again, the way he was caressing your face was way too distracting for the conversation you were trying to have.
“I uh – already saw that. basically everyone I know has sent it to me. my brothers, the team, even my mom,” quinn explains, and it makes sense now why he didn’t seem shocked by the news.
“your mother?” you squeak out, mortified at the thought of his mother reading the things people have been saying online about the two of you.
“yeah. wouldn’t be surprised if she started these rumours herself though. she was excited to say the least, going on and on about how happy she was that we were finally together and that it took me long enough to lock you down” quinn jokes, and your heart warms slightly at his words.
“you’re not - upset by it? I know it’s probably weird –” you start but quinn cuts you off by pressing a gentle and unexpected kiss to your cheek.
“it’s not weird. I’m honoured actually, that people think I have enough game to pull someone as hot as you,” he says and you scoff, rolling your eyes and gently hitting him against the chest.
“be serious,” you scold lightly, picking at the blanket thrown over your lap and he laughs, hand nudging your chin, prompting you to look at him.
“I am serious. you’re way out of my league angel. It’s a bit of a cruel joke that people think you would date me,” he says and you immediately frown, wondering if your best friend must have gotten a concussion somehow in the last 24 hours because there was no way Quinn Hughes actually believed the words coming out of his mouth.
“that’s an utterly ridiculous thing to believe considering you have every quality I love in a man and I’ve had the biggest crush on you since the day I met you,” you say without thinking, your cheeks heating up when you realise what you just said, your embarrassment only multiplying when you see the amused grin on his face.
“you have a little crush on me, eh?” he teases, and you sigh lovingly
“quinn, shut up and kiss me already, would you?” you say, and both of you can’t keep the grins off your faces as he leans closer and connects your lips in a sweet, tender, long overdue kiss.
“Your mom was right, you know? It took you long enough to lock me down,” you mumble against his lips and quinn doesn’t even get a chance to respond when the front door suddenly bursts open and ellen walks in.
“Talk of the devil,” quinn mutters and you hide your laugh in his shoulder as his mom observes the position you two currently found yourselves in.
“Hi mrs. Hughes,” you greet her, both you and quinn sending her matching, sheepish smiles.
“Quintin Jerome Hughes, you are such a little liar! I raised you better than lying to your own mother”
#୭ 🗄️ ₊ ⌇ bedsyandco#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes fluff#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes x reader
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She’s real!?
Charles Leclerc x reader
Face claim random Pinterest girls
Summary Charles has said he has a girlfriend for a few years now. But the longer people hasn’t seen her the more they think they he made her up. Until they are proven wrong
Warning fluff, rushed, maybe some spelling mistakes.
A/N the ending was ruched cause I am working on something bigger. But This has been in my draft for weeks so I wanted to put it out before the big thing.
Charles knew that he was lucky. He had an amazing girlfriend, his dream job, great friends, enough money so that he could last a lifetime, fans that supported him and a family that loved him.
But not everyone believed that he had all that. It may sound a bit weird because they where all facts. …right?
Well not every on of them. The first one the girlfriend one. That one wasn’t. He claimed he has one. And he always brings her up, for 3 years now. And you may think ‘well why don’t people believe him then?’ Well that can be answered quite easily.
No one has seen her yet. Well not no one because his family and his closes friends have. But they have never been seen public, and if they did see her they didn’t know it because they don’t know who she is and how she looks. They know there is someone, just not how she looks, what she does or what her name is.
And that is why people don’t believe him. Even some of his close friends and colleagues don’t. His team doesn’t even believe him.
And that’s all because they wanted to wait with going public. They wanted to wait because Y/n was really busy with her school work and Charles was travelling the world for formula 1. They did live together in his house in Monaco. But they didn’t see each other that often. But they still managed to keep it private.
And they do want to make it public. But in the first year that they where together they decided to keep it quiet, and when they where in their second year, she was really busy with school and being in her year before her exams she needed to study a lot. And then with him travelling the world and having a lot of trouble with Ferrari they still didn’t have the time. And now in their third year together, she was in her last year of school and studying a lot and him starting the season again. They still didnt find the time to go public.
And when they did find the time they where together and enjoying the privacy they had. So they decided to not hard launch yet and just torture the fans and public with corny soft launches.
And while they enjoyed the privacy they had. Charles did find it annoying that his friends and fans didn’t believe him. And he tried everything, but he will prove that she is real. Even if it will cost their privacy.
When Charles walken in the paddock alone… again, people stared looking and asking questions. A bit teasing of course.
And when it was media day there were a few questions about his ‘girlfriend’ but he successfully dodged them all. Not that he didn’t want to talk about her. But his media team said that it was better to not answer them, and he talked to Y/n about it and she said that it if came up he could talk about her. But just not randomly saying stuff.
So as promised he kept quite about their relationship. And when Fp1 and 2 rolled around it was still going great.
Well besides the teasing comments from his colleagues and even his team.
And when qualifying came around it was going really great. He started on 5th place, with was not the best but still good.
But then Race day came and he was as pretty excited. He started on a good place and Carlos was back again.
He ignored it for now and talked with his engineer for the last time before the race.
Before he got in his car he checked his phone one last time to see y/n has wished his good luck, he smiled a bit at that. But when he looked up again he saw that Carlos shot him a knowing look.
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After Charles was done at Australia he got on a plane. When he was in the airport he saw his girlfriend. He ran up to her and hugged her. After not seeing her for a few days he had missed her.
“Hey amour, I missed you” he said in her hair while hugging her.
“Hey love, I missed you too. So much” she said looking up at him smiling. What they didn’t notice is Joris taking pictures (not that they would mind).
“Would you want to go home or walk around a bit?” She asked with a slight smile while looking in his eyes.
“I think it would be fun to walk around wouldn’t it?” He asked while putting a bit of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah it would. Come on we should get to the car.” She said while grabbing his hand. “Hey guys good too see you.” She said addressing the other people that where with her boyfriend (and a few of the little people that knew about them and believed it).
“Yeah yeah. Good too see you too y/n/n. Could you just keep the PDA down or something?” Joris said reading a bit.
“Oh sure, I will just keep down being with my boyfriend after no one believes we are together and not seeing each other for a few days. You know you are lucky, you get to be with his all the time.” She said jokingly.
“Yeah yeah whatever.” Joris said while smiling at the couple. They really where something.
“Where do you guys want to go?” She asked looking at Charles again.
“We could just walk around the city and maybe catch the sunset, no?” Charles said while they all walked to the car.
“Yeah that would be fun.” She said opening the back door. “Who wants to drive!” She asked specifically to the other two boys not wanting Charles to drive with his parking skills.
“I could drive, Andrea so you want to go home? I can drop you off and give the lovebirds some time to catch up. ” Joris said.
“Oui, s'il vous plaît.” Andrea said while getting in the passenger seat. (Yes please.)
After dropping Andrea off at his home and walking around the city for a few hours they decided to go to a field to watch the sunset.
“It is so pretty.” Y/n said while looking at the sunset.
“Yeah it is.” He said looking at her. Admiring her.
A few hours later they decided to go hand and hang out there. Joris was with them for a bit longer after deciding to go home too.
Once it was just them they cuddled un in bed and talked for a bit longer.
“Hey Charlie I have a question.” Y/n said once the conversation dialed down a bit.
“What is that Belle?” He said looking- no more admiring her.
“Would you want to go public? And if when?” She asked playing with his hair.
“Of course I would want to go public. And whenever we are ready.” He said kissing his head.
“What if I just come to the paddock and surprise everyone. And we just randomly hard launch?” She asked looking at him.
Charles looked at her thing about it. “It would be fun wouldn’t it?” He asked smiling at her with a little smirk.
“Should we?” She asked him.
“We cou wait a few races, maybe chose a good one. We could stir up some thing. Maybe soft launch some?” He asked her now being a lot more serious then before when they just joked around and talked a bit.
“That would be fun.”
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After Y/n postet that on her story a lot of people begin to notice. Especially because Joris was posted. So when people begin to put everything together they where shocked.
So with now people beleving Charles Y/n could finally be at an race. And that happened. And people loved it.
The drivers where shocked that she was real, so where the fans and the people that worked their.
But they where all happy for them
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#formula 1#sterredm fics💕#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#x reader#formula 1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 polls#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#cl16 one shot#cl16 x y/n#cl16 x you#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#charles leclerc#cl16#cl16 fic#cl16 fluff#cl16 fanfic#f1 masterlist#f1#f1 fic#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader
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Baby I could slow down
Ellie Williams x female reader !
A/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for far too long and I had no idea what to do until I was talking with a friend and she helped a bit, so enjoy !!
Summary: Ellie had been your tattoo artist for a bit, you hadn't gotten many tattoos in the past and if you did it wasn't anything huge. But you decided you wanted to get a tramp stamp, til things get heated.
Warnings: smut, mdni. Mirror sex, glove fixation ??? Bit filthy 😇 soft dom Ellie DUH this is me, I'm a soft dom Ellie fanatic. And sub, but kinda confident reader-? Ok that's all 😁
Masterlist
It was becoming an addiction. One tattoo was leading to 3, 6. So on and so on. You had a few tattoos already, but you decided today was the day you got a tramp stamp, you had been wanting one for some time. Only now were you going through with it. You have been going to the same artist since your first tattoo ever. She was your favorite not only was she good at her job but she was hot. And I mean hot. Everyone who knew of her thought the same thing. But she never would look at them like you. You were thankfully a tad blinded by it. Ofcourse you felt slight tension whenever you'd go, but you'd never think much of it. Until today.
You were wearing a white shirt that was tight to your skin, thin. Alongside some black jeans. It was later in the evening and you were her last for the day, which was usually the case, you would always go in the afternoon. You step through the doors, everything was quiet and it was just Ellie there. "Knock knock." You say, soon after seeing her come into the room. "Hey you." She grins slightly. You set your things down going over to the long flat table. "So a tramp stamp huh?" You nod. "Been wanting one for awhile actually." She grabs her black gloves. And you don't know what comes over you but the way she snaps it onto her hands makes you weak in the knees. You swallow, beginning to lay on your stomach on the black leather. "Haven't been in for awhile." She states, grabbing her supplies. You look infront of you, realizing the mirror was right there.
None of the tats youd get involved laying on your stomach. Ellie comes over, taking a moment looking at your curves, the way your lower back dipped as you prompted yourself on your forearms. Her gloved hands come to your sides slowly running along them, lifting your shirt in the process. Only a tiny bit before she goes to your jeans pulling them down just a smidge as you had high rise on, to get to your lower back. "This is going to look so good on you." She compliments. You felt heat rise to your cheeks. You had been just getting yourself sorted that you hadn't noticed there was quiet music going on in the background. Ellie places the stencil on your skin, making sure it was placed good. Once that was all sorted.
She begins to start the pen up, you hear the vibrations. Getting ready for the slight pinchy sting. But in all honesty, it wasn't that painful usually. Her lingering touches on your sides felt nice, in a way almost teasing. "The butterfly suits you." You bit your lip slightly. And this woman looks up for a second, into the mirror. Noticing the action. You didn't dare look back. Everything was quiet in the room, the air filled with something flirty. It was starting to drive you insane.
Eventually there was some small talk, she'd ask about life recently and you did the same. Catching up from the last time you had come in. Her hands softly touch your skin, bringing the needle into your skin. It stung a tiny bit but by now you were use to it. "Comfortable?" She asks. You nod slightly. "Yeah it's easing up the more I come." You look up and in the mirror to see her smiling, yet still focusing on the tattoo. "Glad you come back to me so often." You bit your lip a little. "Yeah course, you're the best at what you do." Her smile turns into a slight grin. "Oh yeah?" That made your heart skip a beat, the way her voice was right now. You wanted to squirm but you knew you had to stay still. Which made Ellie want to tease you even more, knowing you could do nothing. The thought rolled around her brain driving her a little crazy. Her fingers lightly brush your side as she gets a different angle.
Things were quiet, you could feel the slight tension tho. The hand that was on your side now Moves to rest on the curve of your ass. Your eyes go wide at how casually she does the action. It was hot regardless. "Don't mind my hand love, just trying to find the right position." You swallow. "No thats- fine." She lets out a slight chuckle at how rushed that came out. "Just gotta get myself comfortable y'know?" You bit your lip, harder this time. You had to stay calm you couldn't make any movements. But it's as if she was testing you. You peer at her through the mirror infront of you, until you realized the needle had stopped for a second. She was looking right back at you. Your eyes locked for a good minute, when you let out a breath. "Nervous?" She blurts out. You're silent. You're afraid if you open your mouth you might moan. That just makes you shake your head out of that thought. You needed to be the one to focus because Jesus Christ.
"No, just-" But you had no idea how to cover that breath up. Fuck fuck fuck. Was this embarrassing or what. "Going too fast?" That confused you slightly, almost making you choke on your own spit. "With the tattoo darling." Oh. Your eyes blink a few time. "Uhm, yeah just a little.." Great save. She noticed how silent you were all of a sudden. "Baby, I could slow down if that's what you need me to do?" Your eyes meet in the mirror again. "Since this is bigger than you're use to." There was a slight smirk evident on her face. She knew exactly what she was doing. Wording things in such a way. "Uhm, it's ok just new to this, yeah- bigger than what I'm uhm. Use to." She just chuckles again, looking back down at the tattoo. But her focus was more on the way your back was arched. Her brain let it travel to all these thoughts. What it'd be like to see her fucking you from behind, especially with this tattoo. But that wasn't professional, was it Ellie? You let your eyes go away from the mirror, looking down at your hands.
Fuck it. She thought. She was almost done with it anyways. "Well. Whoever gets to be the one seeing this from behind is lucky. Very lucky." - "All done." She then says, to which you move sitting up. "Too bad no one gets to." You say. Ellie was sly, making sure you weren't involved with anyone by that statement. "Huh.. Shame." Your eyes meet yet again, but not before you turn your ass slightly to get a better look at it. You smile wide. "Oh my God I love it!" You beam. "Good good." She goes to clean up, about to take her gloves off when you stop her. "Wait- keep them on." She was a little shocked at the sudden request but did so anyway. You felt bold all of a sudden. "Maybe there's one person who could enjoy looking at it.. From behind." Her smirk grew. "Oh yeah? Who might that be?" You slowly stride closer. "Maybe the one who did it." She looks up at you from her seat, lust peeking through her green eyes.
Was she really going to go through with this. I mean this is her place, she could do what she liked. And it's not like she didn't know you at all. She was still looking at you. So were you, but your eyes traveled to her hands, her own tattoo. Good lord. She soon noticed making her smirk a bit with pride. She liked the way she affected you. She subtly moves her fingers around, she had it resting on her thigh. But since you were watching why not have a little fun. Her arm shortly flexes, making her slight veins stick out. You could feel your breathing getting heavier, you needed it. Needed her. Your eyes meet hers again, when suddenly she's reaching out. Grabbing the back of your thighs and swiftly pulling you onto her lap. Your breath got caught in your throat as you weren't expecting it. Her lips were immediately on yours. This kiss was well needed and hungry.
"Ever since you first came in here I've been wanting to do that." You bit your lip again, looking down at hers. "I think you should totally do it again." And she did instantly. Keeping her hands gently on your waist. "Get back on the table." She says slightly out of breath. "Only if you keep those gloves on." You smirk a lil, making her smirk too. "Yes ma'am." You try not to giggle like a pathetic little looser as she says that, getting back on the table. Her hand came in contact with your jeans before you do, yanking them down. You turn your head to look at her. She examines your body fully. "This will be fun." You smile more getting on the cushion table again. "Everytime I come for a tattoo I always wish we could do something.." You admit.
It boosts her ego crazily. She wastes no time taking your underwear off, gently pulling your legs so you're closer to her. "Mmmm." She let's out lowly. Your head lifts, looking at her in the mirror. "Want you to keep looking into it, want you to watch your face as I fuck you." You felt yourself clench around nothing, getting incredibly desperate for this now. You watch as she undoes her pants, getting out what you've been craving. "Matches the gloves, huh." Her voice made you wetter, and the thought made you close your eyes. She moves over your body grabbing a fistful of your hair, making you reopen your eyes. "What'd I say." Her voice was soft, laced with demand. "You bit your lip even harder. "To look in the mirror as you fuck me." She hums. "Good." You could feel the tip waiting to be slipped in. She does, shortly. Painfully slow if you might add. But once it was all in, you arch your back. Begging for more of it. "Haven't even moved yet babe." But you didn't care at all. You needed this. Now.
"Please." You breath, and it makes Ellie go crazy. She begins to move and not slowly either. In fact it was faster than you had anticipated. She was just as eager as you tho, the way your back arched, the way the tattoo looked. Your curves. She was loving this all too much. You look at her through the mirror, her eyes were looking at your body until then she met yours in the mirror. "Hear how wet you are? You had been wanting this huh?" You finally let out a moan, trying not to be too loud. "God you're so fine, glad you wanted this tat you look so hot with it. Especially in this position." It was her turn to bite her lip, watching as you moved on the strap too. It was intoxicating how this was all making you feel. "I'm so close." You blab, which made her speed up. Your eyes roll back, Ellie swears she could just cum at the sight of you in the mirror. The strap moving in a way that it gets her clit nice, making her groan and speed up again. "You look so good, shit."
Moans, grunts. Whines, were all that could be heard as you both come closer to your release. "Ellie i-" you were cut off by yet another moan. "I know, feel you clenching, mph. You're getting tighter." Your eyes never leave the mirror, and now so do hers. The latex of the gloves come in contact with your hips, sending you into overdrive as this gives her a better chance at slamming into you. You let out a cry of her name as you finally cum around her, Ellie looses it at the sight, the speed hitting her clit still making her cum along with you. All to be heard was heavy breaths. "It's free." She breathes out huskily.
#elliewilliams#ellie the last of us#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams the last of us smut
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REGRET STING
Spencer Reid x bau!reader ↳ part 2 here
Synopsis: You have always been there for Spencer. Turns out, he's never going to be there for you. Word Count: 1k+ WARNING: Angst. A/N: one of my many drafts... enjoy 👀?
You love Dr. Spencer Reid.
As a colleague, a friend, and, well, a respected man.
Granted, you spent most of your days with a small herd of profilers, but you were great at hiding your feelings for him, if you do say so yourself.
You watched him smile awkwardly with love from one woman to the other. Then, there was Maeve. He was in love with her. You didn't need your profiling skills to lead to that conclusion.
It broke your heart when you heard Spencer's plea. It broke your heart when he couldn't even function properly. And your heart broke for him as you watched him fall on his knees, crying over Maeve.
So you chose friendship. You always have, after all.
You became his anchor. His support. His best friend.
You were there for him. You were there when he was ready to open up. You lent him your shoulder. You became his personal napkin, soaking up all his tears in the hopes that it would lessen the pain, even just a little bit. You kept him company, dragging him out of his apartment to bring him anywhere besides the gloom in his empty home.
And without him, or you, knowing, you gave him your heart. You were in love with Dr. Spencer Reid.
It made you feel guilty, but it was inevitable. Who would've known you could fall deeper than you already were? Not even you, apparently.
And yet, you remained the person he could cry on for two years. You pawned him a shoulder for a long, drawn-out two years. Shoving your feelings in the back of your mind as if it wasn't anything important to you.
The deeper you fell for him, the faster the team caught up with your feelings.
JJ figured it out first when she saw the ends of your hair as you walked into Spencer's apartment the first year of Maeve's death. Spencer had been unresponsive to everyone but not to you. You managed to get him to open his door just by the sound of your footsteps. She knew, then, that he was in good hands.
Emily and Derek noticed how you felt at the same time. You were all on a case, and an officer who awfully looked a lot like Maeve emerged. You were protective of Spencer and knew exactly what his reaction would be. So you had everything he needed and offered to work with him before Hotch could even mention it. Of course, along with that was Penelope getting a confirmation about your feelings for Spencer.
Rossi always knew. He always saw the way you would giggle silently to yourself whenever Spencer sassed his statistics into them. One time, he saw you clean Spencer's desk before everyone arrived. And he suspected that you did so a while back before he caught you.
Hotch? He noticed, but he said nothing unless you verbally told him. He thought you weren't ready to openly admit your feelings to the team yet, so who was he to mention it?
And so it goes...
Emily would grin whenever Spencer gave you coffee every morning. Derek would wiggle his eyebrows whenever he caught your gaze on Spencer, then gossip about it with Penelope, which led to her teasing you 'til sundown. Rossi, at times, tried to ease your feelings when they surfaced. Your solid companion whenever you felt down. And Hotch was ever a menace, stern face or not. He would partner you and Spencer up, specifically on the days when your feelings for the genius were oddly stronger.
So, you could only imagine the heartbreak when Spencer arrived one morning with the wrong order of your coffee and a wide smile as he told you that he was going out on a date.
You immediately showed your protest. Of course, Spencer wasn't happy about it. What was worse was he didn't know why. And worse than that was you couldn't tell him why.
Or so you thought.
"I don't understand why you're making a big deal out of this," Spencer followed you as you walked around the bullpen.
"You just met this woman, Spence. I think it's safe to say I'm worried. You don't even know whether this person is safe." You lied. You had to. He didn't need to know you didn't want him to go on a date because it would break you.
Spencer crossed his arms, knitting his eyebrows as he felt offended by your words. "I'm a profiler and have 187 IQ. I can take care of myself." He stated, earning a couple of stares from the other agents.
You mirrored his actions, "Really?" You challenged, nodding in his direction, specifically to his tie. "You can't even properly tie the same tie you've been wearing for years. It looks like you haven't done laundry either because, as far as I can remember, you've been wearing that same vest for the past three days. Are you going to wear that on your date?" You raised a brow.
Emily's eyes blew wide, pursing her lips to eat her laughter in. She looked away in hopes that the urge to burst into fits of laughter would subside. Unfortunately, Derek was doing the same thing, and they both snorted at the same time.
"Obviously, I'm not going to wear this on the date. This is clearly not about how homeless I look like. Just be honest with me and tell me why you're so against me being happy." Spencer's voice climbed an octave higher. He was frustrated and confused, and you both knew how much he hated both.
You closed your eyes and sighed deeply. You really had no other choice, do you? You turned around to face Spencer, "I'm in love with you." You confessed, hoarding the entire bullpen's attention.
Spencer chuckled, shaking his head, "Right, nice joke."
"I'm not joking." It offended you a bit. How much he compared your confession to a silly joke.
Spencer's face darkened. He uncrossed his arms and dipped his hands inside his pockets. His next words broke your heart, "I'm very disappointed in you."
Your eyes widened. Your mouth fell open as you heard your heart break into pieces, so loud you couldn't get a sense of what more he was saying.
"I came to you for two years to mend. You became my best friend because I thought I could trust you. And now, you're in love with me? Did you help me just so you could gain my affection?"
It stung. The silence that fogged the bullpen was deafening. Emily wanted to claw Spencer's eyes, but JJ was fast to hold her back.
Derek began to move beside you, "Reid, don't—"
Your manic laugh cut him off.
Spencer's eyebrows narrowed, "What?" His voice was far from the gentle one you were used to.
"You know what, Reid?" You scoffed, running your tongue on your lower lip to control your anger. "You're right. I was there for you. I was there to lend you a shoulder to cry on. I was there to keep you company. I made you smile. I even made you laugh! And sure, you're very disappointed in me because, god forbid, I fell for the genius prodigy. With the 187 IQ you're boasting, imagine my disappointment when you can't even figure out that I have feelings for you."
The bullpen fell silently dead as you stared at Spencer with such hatred it made his stomach climb on his throat. He has never seen you so... disgusted.
You couldn't take it. You couldn't look at him in the eyes anymore. You felt like you were going to throw up the longer you stood in the center of it all.
His words insulted you. And it hurt like a bitch.
There were many possibilities on how Spencer could've responded to your feelings, but this was beyond your limit.
You bit your lower lip, hesitant yet eager to spill the next words that came out of your mouth. "For the record, I regret falling in love with you." And with that, you left.
An offer from another unit had been sitting in your inbox. And despite having no plan to leave such a beautiful family of colleagues, you filled out the transfer form. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that you needed an out sooner or later. And Spencer's insensitive reaction was just the right motivation you needed.
The Monday after your outburst became the BAU team's worst nightmare.
Spencer immediately noticed your absence. He knew. Of course, he did. You were always the first person to greet him as you spun around in your seat. It was rare for you to be late.
You haven't contacted him for days, either. And he didn't have the guts to do it first. He has been drowning in guilt and couldn't figure out how he'd make it up to you. He realized how unfair he was to you, albeit too late.
Everyone arrived one by one, and there was still no sign of you until Hotch cleared his throat, "Let's start."
Penelope stumbled, hesitating at the sight of your empty seat. "What about..." She softly muttered yet loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Agent..." Hotch sighed as he spoke your name. He still remembered how you went back to his office while everyone was out for their lunch break and submitted your transfer request. "She officially transferred to unit 4, violent criminal apprehension program... today," Hotch announced, much to his dismay.
Derek's eyebrows knitted, glancing outside the window of the conference room to your desk. "Are you kidding? Her stuff is still here."
Hotch took a deep breath, glancing at Spencer for a moment. "She said they were unnecessary items." He cleared his throat and gestured for Penelope to continue what she was doing.
Regrets stung Spencer like a thousand bees.
Most of the things that clattered on your desk were things that you both shared. His pens that you never gave back. Post-it notes he left for you that had no importance, but you kept them up on the wall of your cubicle. A photo booth picture of the two of you from one of Rossi's Christmas parties. The small bookshelf on top of your desk overflowing with Spencer's annotated books.
"But she didn't even tell us. She didn't say goodbye." Penelope exclaimed. Her eyes matched the frown on her lips. She couldn't help but talk about you. After all, they were your family for many years.
"Could you blame her though?" Emily scoffed, giving Spencer a glare.
Spencer messed up. Big time. And he has no idea how he would make it up to you.
reid masterlist | masterlist
#spencer x reader#spencer reid imagine#ssa spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminalminds#spencer reid angst
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Muggle Studies
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader ᥫ᭡ words: 2k ᥫ᭡ warnings: 18+ | SMUT | MDNI | public fingerfucking ᥫ᭡ summary: you cheated on your boyfriend with your best friend My first one shot omfg I hope you guys enjoy 🥹 For those who know me on Wattpad or A03, this passage was adapted from one of my fics for Tumblr.
You wandered through the winding corridors of Hogwarts, the familiar sound of your footsteps echoing softly off the stone walls. Your hands were buried deep in the pockets of your house robe, seeking warmth against the cool draft of the castle. Your stomach churned, a physical reminder of the breakfast you had skipped, choosing instead to avoid the Great Hall altogether. You couldn’t risk seeing either Mattheo or Cedric—both of whom you hadn’t spoken to since the Yule Ball. You and Cedric had been dating for two months. He wasn’t someone you were in love with, not really, but he was kind, reliable, and he took good care of you. There was a comfort in the stability he offered, something safe and predictable, even if your heart wasn’t entirely in it. But now, with everything that had happened, facing him felt impossible.
Your heart clenched at the thought of Cedric. Facing him now seemed impossible, especially with the weight of your secret pressing down on you like a boulder. The memory of your night with Mattheo still lingered, a dangerous mix of regret and yearning that sent an unexpected warmth between your legs whenever it crossed your mind. It had been a fleeting moment of weakness, a slip in judgment that you couldn’t afford to admit, even to yourself.
You and Mattheo had been best friends since your second year at Hogwarts, inseparable from the start. He had always been like a big brother to you—protective, loyal, and always by your side.
But something had shifted in recent months. The lines between friendship and something more had started to blur. You found yourself noticing things about him you hadn’t before—the way his dark eyes lingered on yours a moment too long, the sharp curve of his smirk that sent your heart racing. It confused you at first, but the more time you spent together, the more your feelings deepened, until you could no longer deny that you saw him differently.
And then came the ball.
Just as you reached the heavy wooden door of your classroom, the last voice you wanted to hear cut through the air behind you, freezing you in place.
“Hey, Y/N!” Cedric’s voice, warm and full of affection, called out. You closed your eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before turning around with what you hoped was a convincing smile.
Cedric’s face lit up as he strode towards you, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners. He cupped your cheeks between his hands and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, sending a fresh wave of guilt crashing through you. You could barely look him in the eye, knowing what you had done—what you had betrayed.
“Good morning to you too,” you murmured with a soft laugh, stepping back, though the smile never fully reached your eyes.
“I didn’t see you yesterday, or this morning,” Cedric said, his brows knitting together slightly in concern. “Are you avoiding me?”
His tone was gentle, but the question made your stomach twist in knots. What could you say? That you had been running away from your own guilt, from the look in his eyes that always made you feel safe, but now only reminded you of your betrayal?
“What? No! Why would I avoid you?” you forced the words out with a light chuckle, hoping they would come across as casual, though the weight of your actions made you feel anything but.
Stay calm, you thought. You have to keep it together.
“If it’s about the ball… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that,” Cedric said softly, his voice filled with regret. He looked down, his expression pained, as if it was his fault for leaving too soon. But you knew the truth. Cedric had waited for you, and when you showed up late, frustrated and embarrassed, he had left. You had been upset too—enough to leave the ball and end up in his best friend’s arms that night.
“It’s nothing, Cedric, really,” you reassured him, though your voice felt hollow. Over his shoulder, your eyes caught a familiar figure leaning against the stone wall further down the hall—Mattheo Riddle, his dark eyes fixed on you with that same dangerous glint.
Your throat tightened, your pulse quickening at the sight of him. You quickly tore your gaze away, focusing back on Cedric.
“I should get to class now,” you said, your voice soft as you brushed a hand over his cheek, forcing yourself to smile. “I’ll see you later?”
“Tonight in my dorm?” Cedric suggested, his smile so pure, so trusting. “The guys will be out at Quidditch practice, so we can watch a movie… just us.”
“Yeah… sounds perfect,” you replied, though the guilt gnawed at your insides like a beast you couldn’t tame. Cedric kissed your cheek and waved goodbye, disappearing down the corridor.
You were in deeper than you thought.
The moment you entered the classroom, you made a beeline for your usual seat at the back of the room, hoping for a moment of peace. You began unpacking your things, your mind racing, but before you could settle in, someone slid into the seat next to you.
You didn’t have to look to know who it was.
“That’s not your seat,” you said flatly, not bothering to glance at Mattheo, who leaned back in his chair with that infuriating smirk on his face.
“It is now,” he replied casually, his voice low and teasing.
You rolled your eyes, biting back a retort. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him today, not when your mind was already a storm of guilt and confusion. But when Ron Weasley walked into the room, sporting a fresh black eye, you turned to Mattheo, your anger rising.
“Tell me you didn’t do that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, though the accusation hung heavy in the air between you.
Mattheo’s smirk widened. “He had it coming.”
Your jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, you wondered if Mattheo had done it out of jealousy because you and Ron had talked for a long moment during the ball before you rejected his advances. But you pushed the thought away, shaking your head. Ron could be a jerk sometimes, but he didn’t deserve this.
“You really don’t know how to behave, do you?” you muttered under your breath as Professor Rowle began the lesson.
Mattheo chuckled darkly beside you. “Not really.” His hand slid under the desk, finding its way to your bare thigh, his fingers brushing against your skin.
Your breath hitched, your body betraying you as a heat spread through you once more. You clenched your fists, trying to focus on the lesson, but Mattheo’s touch made it impossible. His hand slowly inched higher, his fingers teasing the edge of your underwear.
“Mattheo…” you whispered, your voice trembling, your face flushed with both embarrassment and desire.
“Shh…” he whispered back, his breath warm against your ear as his hand continued its slow, torturous movements.
The sensation sent a shiver of anticipation through you, your heart pounding in your chest as Mattheo’s fingers brushed the fabric of your underwear, teasing you with maddening slowness.
“You’d better stay quiet for me, alright?” Mattheo murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper full of promise.
You squeezed the edge of your desk, your breath coming in shallow gasps as your mind spiraled between guilt, desire, and the impossible situation you had found yourself in.
With a surge of confidence, Mattheo’s hand slipped further under your skirt, his fingers gliding beneath the fabric of your underwear with practiced ease. The moment his fingers found your wetness, your breath hitched, a wave of heat spreading through your body as his touch sent ripples of sensation coursing through you.
A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips, and you bit down on it immediately, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But it was impossible. The way Mattheo’s fingers moved—slow, deliberate, teasing—ignited something deep within you. His touch was maddeningly light at first, barely grazing your skin, but that only made the ache inside you more unbearable.
Mattheo’s mind wasn’t as calm as his outward expression suggested. Seeing you with Cedric just moments earlier had ignited a fire of jealousy within him. You were still with Cedric—perfect, dependable Cedric—when Mattheo knew that only he could make you feel this way. No one else could push you to the edge like this, and the thought of you being with anyone else—especially Cedric—drove him mad.
His fingers moved with calculated precision, each stroke a reminder that you were his, even if you wouldn’t admit it. You might still be with Cedric, but right now, you were here with Mattheo, your body responding to his touch in ways Cedric could never make it. He was the only one who could drive you to this point, and he knew it.
Without warning, Mattheo slipped two fingers inside you, rough and deliberate, making you gasp. The sudden intrusion sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, your breath catching in your throat as your legs instinctively clenched around him. His smirk only deepened as he watched you struggle to maintain control, knowing that the raw intensity of his touch was exactly what you craved, even if you wouldn’t say it aloud.
"Such a good girl for me," Mattheo whispered in your ear, his voice laced with arrogance and desire. His fingers moved faster now, more insistent, as if to remind you of who really had control over you.
A shiver ran down your spine at his words, your body arching into his touch. Your breath became ragged, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggled to hold yourself together. But it was impossible. His fingers stroked you with relentless precision, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, until the tension inside you became too much to bear.
“Mattheo, please…” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper, desperate for release.
He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying how you fell apart under his touch. His fingers pressed deeper, drawing slow, maddening circles that made your entire body tremble. "Let go, baby," he whispered again, his breath hot against your ear. "Come for me."
Your body responded instinctively, trembling as the coil of pleasure inside you finally snapped. A rush of heat overwhelmed you, your release crashing over you like a wave as your muscles tensed, your thighs clenching around his hand. You tried to stifle the moan that rose in your throat, biting your lip as the pleasure coursed through you.
Mattheo’s smirk grew wider as he watched you fall apart, his fingers still moving, drawing out your pleasure until you were trembling beneath his touch. Finally, he withdrew his hand, slick with your arousal, and brought his fingers to his lips, his eyes locking on yours as he slowly licked them clean.
"I hate you…" you whispered, your voice breathless and weak as you tried to catch your breath.
Mattheo chuckled, wiping his hand on his trousers with casual indifference. "No, you don’t," he murmured arrogantly, his gaze still fixed on you. "But you will."
His heart was still racing with the jealousy and possessiveness that had been gnawing at him since that night at the ball. Seeing you with Cedric had only made it worse. He wanted to remind you, selfishly, that only he could make you feel like this. Cedric could never compete, and Mattheo needed you to know that.
You glared at him, your chest still heaving as you tried to regain control of yourself. You had crossed yet another line, one that you knew you shouldn’t have. And the worst part was, you knew Mattheo had done it on purpose—every touch, every tease, designed to remind you that you belonged to him in ways you could never admit out loud.
Mattheo Riddle was going to be the death of you.
And the worst part? You weren’t even sure you wanted him to stop.
#mattheo riddle#slytherin boys x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo smut#harry potter#slytherin boys#hogwarts#slytherin boys smut#matt riddle#smut
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Very first - Lewis Hamilton NSFW
Request: First time with Lewis. I had 5 requests for that and I hope I did it justice (sorry for how long it took for a couple of those requests)
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: unprotected sexual activities, all sorts.
Wrap it before you tap it.
wordcount: +5K
a/n: Haven't written in first person in so long, but all the drafts felt better like this. Also, it's huge, ops. Hope you guys like it.
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT
______________________________________________________________
It was easy with him, too easy maybe, but that's what made it so damn nice.
“So,” I started, turning to him with a half-smile. “You want to come up?”
We’d spent the morning driving through the countryside, talking about everything and nothing—his races, my job, the ridiculousness of the price of avocados.
His eyes met mine, and I could see the question there, like he was trying to read me. “You sure?”
It was cute that he was being cautious, but come on, we both knew why I was asking. I nodded, keeping my voice light. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the countryside air or just the fact that we had spent the day away from the madness of London, but today felt different.
Calmer, somehow.
I led him up the stairs to my apartment, trying not to think too much about how it had been a while since I’d let anyone in here.
Literally and figuratively.
“Welcome to my humble abode” I said, pushing the door open and stepping inside.
He hesitated in the doorway, taking it all in.
My place was small, but it was mine—books, plants, a blanket that I was probably too attached to. It wasn’t flashy like the places he was used to, but I liked that about it.
“Nice place,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
“It does the job” I replied with a shrug, kicking off my shoes. “Make yourself at home.”
He followed suit, slipping off his sneakers and setting them neatly by the door. “It suits you. Feels… grounded.”
I let out a soft laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
He leaned against the counter as we headed into the kitchen to grab some water.
But when handed him the glass, and our fingers brushed, it was fireworks all over again. God, how was I still reacting like a teenager with a crush?
“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. “So, today was fun.”
“It was,” I agreed, taking a drink to give myself something to do with my hands. “It’s nice to get out of the city for a bit. The countryside’s got this whole other vibe.”
“Yup” he said, setting his glass down. “Nice to just… let it go.”
“Even from the racing?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Especially from the racing,” he chuckled, shaking his head.
There was a beat of silence, and I could feel the shift in the air between us, that tension that had been simmering since our last date starting to bubble up again.
The last time… well, things had gotten pretty heated until his phone rang, snapping us both out of it.
It was a close call, but I’d pulled back, sticking to my rule. No rushing into things. I’d done that before, and it never ended well.
But this time, he was making it very hard for me to stick by that rule.
I wanted him, and from the way he was looking at me, I’d take a pretty good guess he wanted me too.
I took a step closer, letting my hand find his. That simple touch was all it took for the tension to skyrocket, and before I knew it, we were closing the distance between us, lips crashing together in a kiss that was anything but tentative.
His hands were on my waist, pulling me closer as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
God, the man could kiss.
It was the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were, who you were, and why you ever thought not doing this was a good idea. His lips were soft, but the way he kissed me was anything but.
There was urgency there, a hunger that only fueled into my own, and I could feel it in every brush of his lips, every tug of his fingers on my shirt.
I pressed myself against him, deepening the kiss as I let my hands roam up his back, memorizing the feel of him.
The muscles there were as solid as they looked, and I couldn’t help but think that this man was literally built for this kind of thing.
I mean, I had the image of what he looked like shirtless—hell, half the world did���but feeling it under my fingers was a whole different story.
He let out a low groan against my lips, and I was losing myself in the kiss, in him, and for a second, I almost didn’t care about anything else. Almost.
He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as we both caught our breath. “Y/n…”
The way he said my name, low and rough, made me want to pull him back in and never let go.
But there was something in his voice that made me pause.
“Yeah?” I whispered, my hands still resting on his shoulders, my eyes closed shut.
“I just… I don’t want to rush you” he said, his voice soft but serious. “I know last time… I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing again.
Damn, he was really being careful, wasn’t he? But I appreciated it. More than I’d probably let on.
“Lewis” I started, taking a breath. “I want this. I want you. And I’m not saying that lightly.”
He studied me for a moment, like he was searching for any sign of hesitation. But there wasn’t any. Not this time.
“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.
I nodded, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw tentatively. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
That was all it took.
He kissed me again, and this time, there was no holding back.
And damn, if it wasn’t about time.
We barely made it through the hallway before his lips found mine again, pressing me against the wall with just the right amount of pressure.
God, he was good at this. I could feel the heat between us, the urgency in his touch making it clear where this was heading.
“Bedroom?” I mumbled against his lips, not really wanting to break the kiss but knowing we couldn’t just do this against the wall like teenagers.
Although, thinking it back the idea didn’t sound so bad.
As soon as we stepped inside his eyes landed on the teddy bear sitting in the middle of my bed. Of course.
“What’s this?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pointed to the bear.
I rolled my eyes, trying not to let him see how much I loved that he was trying to lighten the mood.
“That’s Mr. Bear, and he’s not going anywhere, so you’ll just have to deal.”
“Mr. Bear?” He picked it up, inspecting it like it was some kind of artifact. “Well, I guess I’ll have to make sure he approves.”
“He’s a tough cookie” I quipped, crossing my arms and giving him a look. “But you might want to focus on impressing me instead.”
“Oh, I plan on it,” he murmured, setting the bear down gently on the bedside table before turning back to me, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something much more intense.
He stepped closer, his hands finding the hem of my shirt. “Can I…?”
I sighed, half-annoyed, half-amused. “Lewis, if you ask me for permission one more time…”
He grinned, but there was something softer behind it. “Just making sure, love”
“I know,” I cut him off, my voice softer too. “But trust me, I want this. I want you.”
He held my gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, slipping his hands under my shirt and lifting it over my head.
His fingers grazed my skin, causing goosebumps down my skin as he took his time, clearly trying to be as gentle as possible, maybe even allowing for the time for me to back off.
It was sweet, really, but I was starting to get impatient.
“Lewis,” I said, a warning in my voice.
He chuckled, his hands moving to the waistband of my jeans. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop asking.”
“Good” I muttered, stepping out of my jeans as he slid them down my legs.
When I was finally standing in just my lingerie, his eyes roamed over me, and I could see the want—was it also awe? —in his eyes.
“I don’t think it’s fair,” I said, my voice teasing as I reached for the hem of his shirt.
“What’s not fair?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine with a tense stare.
“That you’re fully dressed” I replied, tugging at his shirt. “Especially when half the world uses your abs as gym inspiration.”
He laughed then; a deep, genuine sound that made my heart skip a beat. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”
He raised his arms, letting me pull the shirt over his head. And yeah, the man was every bit as ripped as I had imagined.
I already knew what was under there, but damn, it was something else to see it up close like this.
And the tattoos. Those damn tattoos.
I ran my hands over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, and he watched me with that same intense gaze, like he was studying every move I made.
It was intoxicating, the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered at that second.
“Better?” he asked, his voice low as he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear.
“Much” I whispered, my fingers trailing down to his abs, feeling them tense under my touch.
His breath hitched slightly, and I couldn’t help but smile.
It was nice to know that I wasn’t the only one feeling a little overwhelmed by this. He might be Lewis Hamilton, but right now, he was just a guy standing in front of me, and I was the one making him nervous.
He softly guided my chin up and smiled, that stupidly soft and loving smile, before leaning into my lips, my hands exploring his back, his shoulders, anywhere I could reach.
He took his time though, his hands sliding up my sides to my back, and only then pausing at the clasp of my bra.
With his lips still hovering over mine he breathed into me. “Can I…?”
I rolled my eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “Yes, Lewis. You can.”
And with that – and with his lips back on mine – he undid the clasp, letting the bra fall away as his hands moved over my now bare skin
Finally. And damn, if I wasn’t loving every second of it.
His lips started to trail from my collarbone down to the swell of my breasts, taking detours to worship every inch of skin he found on the way.
By the time his mouth reached my belly, I was practically trembling with anticipation.
When his fingers brushed the lace of my underwear, I couldn’t help the hiss that escaped my lips.
He paused, looking up at me with those deep, dark eyes that seemed to see right through me. Without a word, he moved back up to capture my mouth with his, as if soothing the impatience brewing inside me.
And I was impatient. The slow, deliberate pace was driving me insane, and he knew it.
I kissed him back hard, my hands roaming down his sides until they found the waistband of his boxers.
I was more than ready to speed things up, and as I slipped my hand under the fabric, I was pleasantly surprised to find him already half-hard.
“Guess the rumors weren’t exaggerating,” I murmured against his lips, my fingers brushing over his length.
He responded with a low growl, one hand angling my head as he kissed me again, harder this time, effectively shutting me up.
But he never stopped me from continuing my exploration. I traced the outline of his dick through the fabric, feeling the heat of him, the way he twitched under my touch.
Knowing I could get this kind of reaction from him was a high I probably wouldn’t get over for a minute.
When he finally broke the kiss, I met his gaze, silently asking for permission to go further. “It’s all yours, babe.” He chuckled, a sound that made me want to attack him and hide all at once.
I hooked my fingers under the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down.
The moment his dick sprang free, I couldn’t help the way my breath caught in my throat.
He wasn’t impossibly long, but he was definitely above average, and the girth—God, the girth—was enough to make my pulse quicken.
He was watching me, of course, catching every flicker of reaction on my face.
When he noticed my wide-eyed surprise, he lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him. His smile was warm, reassuring even “We’ll take it slow.”
I nodded, grateful for his patience even as it frustrated me. I returned his smile, my fingers wrapping around his length. His breath hitched the moment I touched him, and I couldn’t help but bat my eyes at him playfully.
“Gosh, you’re trouble” he muttered, his voice rough with desire.
I grinned, taking my time as I began to pump him, feeling the weight and heat of him in my hand.
When I reached the tip, I leaned down to press a kiss there, delighting in the way he shivered at the contact.
“Sensitive here, huh?” I teased, looking up at him.
Whatever retort he had in mind was lost when he dragged me back up to his lips, his hands firm on my hips as he effortlessly maneuvered me onto the bed, pressing my back against the headboard.
His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto mine. “I’m good, love. But we need to make sure you’re ready” he murmured, his statement a promise to my ears.
Before I could respond, his mouth was on me again, trailing kisses down my body with single-minded focus.
When he reached my inner thighs, he took his time kissing through the fabric of my lace underwear, and I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped my lips.
“Don’t tease,” I breathed, hating how desperate I sounded.
He giggled—that soft, infectious sound that I’d grown to love. “Just making sure” he whispered, his fingers hooking around the strings on my hips, slowly pulling the lace down and off.
As he finally took in the sight of my exposed cunt, his expression shifted into something almost reverent, like he was savoring the moment. He leaned down, leaving featherlight kisses on my outer lips, the gentle touch driving me wild.
“Lewis” I groaned, the frustration in my voice clear. “Please.”
He smiled against my skin, his breath hot against my thigh. “Patience, love. I’m just getting started.”
The first tentative lick sent a shockwave through my body, and my hands immediately grabbed at the sheets, fingers curling tight.
Every nerve on me was on fire, heightened by the slow, deliberate pace he was setting.
And just when I thought I might float away, he hooked an arm around my hips, anchoring me in place. His other hand found mine, fingers intertwining, as if he needed to connect with me anymore.
His eyes never left mine, and even if I wanted, I couldn’t really stop watching as his tongue lapped up my clit. A gasp escaping my lips as the pleasure spiked through me.
“Fuck,” I muttered, barely coherent.
He continued, his tongue moving with just the right pace, not rushing, just giving me enough to keep me teetering on the edge.
When he felt I was wet enough, he let go of my hand, moving it down to tease at my entrance with a single digit.
“I’ll need words from here, love” he murmured, his voice muffled. “Tell me what you like.”
“Don’t stop,” I managed to say, my voice shaky, almost pleading. “Just—don’t stop.”
With a grin, he slid a single finger inside me, his own hiss vibrating through the room as he felt my walls.
“You’re so tight,” he breathed, a note of awe in his voice. “This is gonna be heaven.”
He took his time, exploring with just that one finger, feeling around until he found the spot that had me squirming under him. When he hit it, I couldn’t help the moan that tore from my throat, my hips bucking involuntarily.
“Found it” he said with a satisfied smile, his eyes locking onto mine.
Then he added a second finger, the light stretch already making me gasp.
He started a scissoring motion, opening me up, getting me ready. All the while, his tongue didn’t let up, lapping at my clit in perfect rhythm, just enough to keep me on edge without pushing me over.
The wet sounds filled the room, mingling with my ragged breathing and his low murmurs of praise.
He was studying me, like he was learning exactly how to make me fall apart under him.
After what felt like an eternity of this sweet torment, he finally pulled back, sitting on his heels.
I watched as he switched to his middle and ring fingers, angling them just right before sliding back into me.
The feeling was delicious, and when he curled his fingers and found that spot again, I cried out, my hips lifting off the bed.
“Easy” he murmured, his free arm holding me in place as he started a relentless up-and-down motion.
His thumb brushed over my clit, making my breath caught in my throat and my head spin.
I was completely at his mercy, the pleasure building and building until I could hardly breathe.
The wet noises from where his fingers worked inside me were obscene, mingling with the desperate little sounds I couldn’t hold back.
He kept on the soft praises, but they were swallowed by my moans as I got closer and closer to the edge.
And then it hit.
My vision went white, and all I could do was hold onto his arm on his hips, feeling the waves of pleasure crash over me again and again. My whole body tensing before it felt like it had shattered into a million pieces.
He didn’t stop until he was sure I’d ridden out every last bit of it, his fingers slowing their movements but never letting up until I was trembling beneath him.
Only then did he pull his fingers out.
When I finally came back to myself, I found him watching me with a look that was equal parts smug and adoring.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my lips as if sealing the moment. “You okay?” he whispered, his voice gentle now.
I could only nod, too blissed out to form a coherent thought, let alone words.
And then he had the nerve to ask if I had one more in me, and again all I could do was nod.
But apparently, that wasn’t good enough for him. “I need words,” he insisted, and barely managed to get out “Fucking hell, you’re not leaving me without the rest.”
He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and I wanted to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t deny how endearing it was.
How many green flags could one guy have? Annoyingly checking every damn box.
When he went to his wallet, I knew what was coming next.
He handed me the condom packet, giving me that same patient, earnest look, like he was asking if I could handle one more thing.
I reached for him, giving him a few more pumps just to feel him twitch in my hand. Sliding the condom on, I could feel the heat building again, a rush of anticipation making my heart race.
He adjusted our position like he was handling something precious—placing a pillow just under my back, so deliberate and thoughtful.
But when he rested his dick on my inner thigh, all those coherent thoughts I had left my brain like it was suddenly a foreign language, and I remembered the girth.
Holy shit. How was I supposed to handle that?
The weight of him, the sheer size, and the fact that I was supposed to take it in?
Was this man sculpted by the gods or what?
And why did I have to get stuck on how considerate he was instead of focusing on the absolute insanity about to happen?
Before I could spiral any further, he came up to me, his lips brushing mine, dragging me back into the present. “We’ll take all the time you need, okay?” his voice like honey, smooth and sweet.
And there I was, rolling my eyes again, even as the warmth spread through me.
I wanted to snap back, something sassy on the tip of my tongue, but then his tip entered me, and all I could do was hiss at the sensation.
He kissed me through the first thrust, his dick practically ripping through my walls, and my hands automatically went to his back, nails digging into his skin, holding on for dear life.
I tried to breathe, tried to adjust to the stretch, but when he finally stopped, I realized he wasn’t even fully in yet.
My eyes shot down, and sure enough, he was still focused, his breathing controlled, and all I heard was a low murmur, “Geez, you really are tight.”
I felt his arms on either side of me, solid and reassuring, and I squeezed them gently. His eyes instantly found mine, filled with concern, and I had to smile softly. “Move, Lewis. Just please, move.”
And then he did, thrusting into me with an agonizing slowness, deeper with each motion, until finally, I felt his balls press against my ass, and he sighed like he’d found what he was looking for.
My mind, however, was a different story.
Holy shit, how was I still breathing? I was split open in the best way possible, and all I could think was how the hell was this man real.
I was sure each thrust was going to create its own memory, and I was teetering between wanting to scream at the top of my lungs and begging him to go even harder.
But there was something about how he moved—deliberate, careful, like he was savoring every second, every reaction I gave him.
The way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world, was enough to push me over the edge again. And I could tell he was holding back, trying to keep control, trying to make sure I was okay, even as his own need was practically vibrating through his body.
God, I’m so screwed, and not just in the physical sense.
I was falling, fast and hard, and there was no stopping it now.
Not when he felt this good, not when he was this good to me.
Every thrust made me crave more, made me cling to him tighter, made me want to lose myself in him completely.
Lewis’s focus was entirely on me, and it was like he was memorizing every gasp, every twitch, every reaction.
It was overwhelming, in the best possible way, but still I needed more.
I wanted to be the one in control, to feel him from a different angle, to see what this man—this ridiculous, considerate, and sexy man—would do when I took the reins.
Leaning into his ear, I whispered, “I want to ride you.”
The words were barely out of my mouth before I felt him tense beneath me, half-worried, half-hopeful.
It was adorable, really, how he tried to mask his excitement with concern.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked, and there was that hint of amusement in his voice, but I could also hear the edge of desperation.
Did he really want this as much as I did, maybe even more?
“We’ll take it slow, right?” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest.
I sat up, pulling away just enough to guide him to sit on the bed, and as I moved into his lap, I could feel his heart on his chest.
Slowly, I lowered myself onto his dick, feeling every inch stretch me again, filling me completely.
My lips parted in an involuntary gasp, my eyes squeezing shut as I adjusted to the sensation.
His hands found my waist, gripping tightly as if grounding himself, and when I finally opened my eyes, he was staring at me with that same soft smile that always managed to break through my sarcasm.
I couldn’t help but smile back, pulling him into a kiss, the kind that had me wrapping me around him.
I started moving, rocking back and forth, feeling the friction build and spiral.
The kiss broke when he moaned against my lips, a sound that only spurred me on, making my moves harder, seeking more.
His hands guided me, helping me rise and fall on him, and every time his tip brushed against my cervix, I saw starts. It was so intense it almost bordered on pain.
I let out a cry, my body trembling at the sensation, and he immediately stilled, concern flashing in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and it was almost ridiculous how serious he was, but also incredibly sweet.
I looked down at him, half breathless, half in awe of how he managed to be so considerate, even in the heat of the moment. “Going to be even better when you drag that other orgasm out of me, like you promised.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. He started to thrust up and I matched him, riding him faster, until I could feel that familiar tension coil tightly in my belly.
I wasn’t going to last much longer, and by the way he was groaning beneath me, neither was he.
A few more thrusts, and I stilled, holding him down by his abdomen, feeling the shift in him as he realized what was happening.
He searched my face, and then his expression shifted as he felt my walls clenching around him, my legs shaking as I came undone.
I couldn’t keep myself upright, collapsing into his chest as wave after wave washed over me.
Lewis took that moment to start thrusting again, riding out my orgasm, and I was vaguely aware of the way he was holding me, like he didn’t want to let go.
I could feel his rhythm faltering, and it wasn’t long before he let out a deep grunt, his fingers digging into my waist as he held me in place and his moans were all I heard.
We were both breathing hard, tangled together, and for a moment, everything else faded away.
It was just us, in this moment, and I couldn’t help the ridiculous surge of affection for him.
Who knew I’d end up here, wrapped up in the arms of a guy like Lewis? But here I was, completely wrecked and somehow, already craving more.
As I eased off his lap, I heard a low moan escape his lips, and I giggled as I looked down at him, sprawled out on the bed with a stupid grin plastered across his face.
"Enjoying yourself, are we?" I teased, reaching down to carefully remove the condom, trying to catch the mess inside. He didn't even respond, just lay there looking like the cat who got the cream.
I slipped off to the bathroom, tossing the condom in the toilet before taking a moment to pee—because there was no way I was dealing with a UTI when I had Lewis to myself like that.
And just that thought was ridiculous on its own.
When I came back into the bedroom, Lewis immediately pulled me into his arms, almost like he was afraid I’d vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
He was sweet in the aftercare, his voice soft as he asked, “How was it? How do you feel?”
I could hear the concern laced in his tone, but that grin was still there, tugging at the corners of his lips.
It was impossible not to smile back, even as I decided to mess with him a little. My fingers wandered lower, tracing the lines of his lower waist, and I looked up at him with a teasing glint in my eyes.
“You know” I started, trying to keep a straight face, “I always thought you were a shower… I’m glad to see you’re also a grower.”
Lewis giggled, his chest vibrating under my chin as he shook his head in mock disbelief. “Really?”
“Yeah” I grinned, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I mean, it’s only fair to acknowledge all of your… talents.”
He shook his head again, but I could see the satisfaction in his eyes. “And here I thought I had you speechless.”
“You did” I assured him, my fingers dancing across his skin again. “But I can’t stay quiet for long.”
He chuckled, pulling me closer, his hand running up and down my back in soothing strokes. “I’m glad. It’s part of your charm.”
I rolled my eyes at that, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through me at his words. “Yeah, well, you’re not so bad yourself.”
His grin softened into something more tender as he looked down at me. “You make it easy to be sweet.”
I pretended to look annoyed, but the smile on my face gave me away. “Okay, that was disgustingly cute. But fine, I’ll allow it.”
“Oh, you’ll allow it?” he teased, his hand coming up to gently brush my cheek “What if I want to be disgustingly cute more often?”
I hummed thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “I guess I could get used to it… as long as you keep up the other stuff too.”
He giggled again, that carefree sound that I was quickly falling for. “Deal. But just so you know, I’m planning on sticking for a bit.”
I smirked, resting my hand on his chest. “I think I can manage that.”
______________________________________________________________
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#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 scenario#f1 x reader#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton#lh#lh44#lewis#lewis x reader#lewis imagine#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton one shot#lewis hamilton imagine#lh44 x reader#lh44 imagine#lewis hamilton x you
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7:13PMㅤ✶ㅤ lee heeseung x femreader
you hate scary movies, loathe them even. hyeju, on the other hand, was obssessed them. so obsessed that she practically dragged you out of the comfort of your shared apartment to the movie theatre because they were going to be having a 'horror movie night'.
why she was so obsessed and why anyone would willingly go to an event like that? you have zero clue.
you couldn't see at all what made horror movies so great that they’re the only genre currently being massed produced within the entertainment realm. surely it wasn’t because the gross amount of gore, the heartstopping jumpscares, or insane— unrealistic storylines.
maybe they just found the actors attractive.
that’s what you chose to focus on, at least. the protaganist is a fairly decent looking guy, almost enough to distract you from the creepy ambience that was making you feel like you were about to throw up from anxiety.
keyword: almost, because as soon as the music spikes and something pops up on screen— you don’t look long enough to see, your eyes immediately squeezing shut— your hand shoots out to grab onto something.
you inhale deeply, trying to steady your breath, hand gripping onto hyeju's. as your heart rate returns to it's normal rate, you loosen your hold on . . . hyeju’s hand?
um . . . no.
what you’re holding does not feel hyeju’s hand whatsoever. hers is much smaller and definitely not as rough as whoever's hand that you’re currently holding is.
you open your eyes and glance to your right, where hyeju is definitely not sitting. instead a guy is there— a very attractive guy, at that— looking down at your hand in his.
eyes widening, you quickly pull away and let out a mumbled apology.
you can't help but internally groan and sink down in your seat, imagining yourself falling into a hole six feet deep. you can’t believe you just embarrassed yourself in front of someone who looked like they could be an idol. first you’re forced to watch an awful movie and now this?
you are not having a good day and you swear it’s going to get worse when you hear him let out a quiet laugh.
he’s for sure laughing at you and he’s going to make fun of you with his friends after the movie is over and you are never ever going to be able to step outside again. at least some good will come out of this— hyeju will never be able to force you out to another event like this one.
except it doesn’t get worse.
instead, he leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “if you want you can hold my hand again whenever you get scared. i don’t mind,”
you blink, opening and closing your mouth as you try to think of a reply. however, before you can think of something that’s not along the lines of ‘let’s get married’ (you're a weak woman, what can you say?), something else jumps out onto the screen, surprising you for the second time.
unconsciously, you take him up on his offer, your hand finding his once more. to which he responds by lacing your fingers together, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
"my name's heeseung, by the way," you can feel his smile as he whispers, "figured you should know my name if you wanna keep holding hands,"
sinking down even further into your seat, you feel your face heating up to a degree that could probably rival the sun's.
note. hi i found this in my drafts and since i have rlly bad writers block here u go!!!! srry for the lazy layout LOL im planning on remaking my current one but i cant be bothered to rn oops
#ㅤ⠀ ૮꒰ ˊᗜˋ ꒱ა ♡ ㅤ⠀#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung x reader#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#heeseung x you#heeseung x y/n#heeseung fluff#heeseung imagines#heeseung drabbles#enhypen fluff#enhypen scenarios#enha scenarios#enha fluff#enha imagines#lee heeseung x you#lee heeseung x y/n#lee heeseung fluff#lee heeseung imagines
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When in Positano | Javier Peña
javier peña x f!reader
rating: 18+, minors do not interact
warnings: light alcohol consumption, smut (fingering, f & m oral receiving, unprotected piv, major breeding kink, ass slaps), talks of starting a family, an insane amount of fluff, javi is a romantic at heart, bits of spanish with translation, frequent pov switching, no use of y/n.
word count: 6.1k
synopsis: honeymooning in italy with your husband is a dream, especially when he reveals he wants to start a family with you.
a/n: this has been in my wips / drafts since january- and then i ultimately decided to change the whole plot of this bc i've been in a soft mushy mood for husband x reader lately. shoutout to @ilovepedro (ily) for beta'ing this baby for me. hope you enjoy <3
It was times like this that you could hardly believe this was your life.
The morning sun had shown her golden rays through the linen curtains that danced with the wind, illuminating your villa brilliantly. The first thing you get to see when your eyes flutter open is your husband, unknowingly basking in the golden light of the morning.
You stretch your sore limbs, the glint of your wedding ring in the light catching your attention. You can't help the smile that spreads across your lips, eyes shifting down to the man next to you once again.
You study his peaceful features as if you were sketching him from memory — tan, warm skin; dark, thick hair; a mustache that always tickles the tiniest bit when he’d kiss you anywhere on your body; a strong, angular nose; long lashes that fan his cheeks; and plush, pink lips that were slightly parted as he breathed steadily.
The only thing you miss dearly in sight at that very moment are his beautiful brown eyes. The same eyes that had you hooked from the very first time your gaze fell upon them.
Your eyes travel down to his muscular arms — the same arms that always hold you tight and protect you, all the way down to his torso and his naked, but covered, lower half.
Your eyes snap up to his gorgeous face once more, reaching your hand out to trace featherlight lines over his smooth skin. You cup his cheek, leaning forward in the slightest to kiss his nose. His brows scrunch in reaction as he finally stirs awake.
He groans softly as he instinctively wraps an arm around you, bringing your bare body flush to his. You can’t help the giggle that bubbles in your throat, taking advantage of your proximity to him as you start peppering kisses all over his face.
You pull back and he peeks one sleepy eye open, a half smile immediately forming on his face.
“Buenos días, mi amor.” [good morning, my love] He whispers, leaning in to kiss your forehead.
“Buenos días, mi esposo.” [good morning, my husband] You beam, and he gently grabs your left hand — the one that decided to caress his face once more — and looks down at it with pride, seeing the wedding band and engagement ring together. It’s something he’ll never tire of.
“Still can’t believe you said ‘I do’.” He chuckles, bringing your hand up to his lips so he can kiss your ring.
“I’d say those two words in a million lifetimes with you, Javier.” You whisper, and his soft brown eyes look up at you in pure adoration.
“Mi vida.” [my life] He shakes his head in disbelief, an undeniable grin etching itself upon his plush lips.
You said I do to each other just seventy-two hours ago, and you both have been luxuriating in the blissful feeling of forever.
Javier surprised you with your dream vacation destination as your honeymoon, and you cried in happiness on your twelve hour flight as you both made your way to Italy.
You don’t know what you did to deserve such a man as Javier, and you truly don’t think you’ll ever comprehend how you got to marry him. What you do know, is that you’re the luckiest woman alive.
Little do you also know, he feels the same exact way about you.
“I love you.” The words flow naturally, easily, and he gives you a look that makes you want to give him the whole universe. Fuck, if you could, you would.
This man—the man that has endured so much in his past, only to open up his heart to you and only you—to protect you, cherish you, and love you the way he does, is a man that deserves everything gracious and peaceful this world has to offer.
And if you told him those exact words, he’d kiss you searingly and tell you that you are his grace, his peace, his god-given solace. You are the reason his heart beats, his days are brighter, his world spins on its axis. You’re everything to him and he’d show you time and time again just so.
“I love you too, cariño.” [honey] His voice is softer, a voice only reserved for you. Underneath the harsh exterior and the stern brow he always wears, there’s a softness that he carries when it’s just you two in the confines of your own space. You always greet him at the door when he comes home, pressing a kiss between his furrowed brows, wrapping your arms around him before telling him “welcome home.” He always relaxes under your touch, and knowing you’re his peace makes pride bloom in your chest.
Your heart aches in the best way possible with how much you love your husband, and your faithfulness and devotion to him will never, ever waver.
Javi buries his face into your neck and leaves a trail of kisses up to your jaw, mustache hairs tickling your skin as he nibbles on your chin playfully.
“What’s on the agenda today, baby?” He asks, hand gliding up the soft skin of your torso, thumb brushing just beneath your breast. The ghost of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you grin lazily as you look at him.
“I was thinking about the street market we passed yesterday, and maybe a new restaurant?” You say, running a hand through his thick brown locks. You twirl a longer piece at the nape of his neck around your finger, and he begins to kiss your collarbone languidly.
He hums in thought, kisses trailing down to the swell of your breasts. You cradle the back of his head gently, not particularly wanting him to stop, but also aware that you should really get out of bed and enjoy the beauty of Positano while you can. Your fingers release his head and skate down to his back, gently double tapping the space between his shoulder blades.
“We should really get up, amor.” [love] Your tone isn’t convincing enough even to yourself, and Javi rests his chin on your sternum as he looks at you with a glimpse of mischief in his eyes.
“Can I enjoy the sweet taste of my wife first?” His tone is more of a statement than a question, and you can’t help but laugh at his eagerness. Truthfully, if it were up to him, you two probably wouldn’t leave the bedroom very much in the week and a half you get to spend here. To you, Italy was paradise, but to Javier, you were his.
He could spend days with his face – or cock – buried between your thighs, savoring every moment of your addicting taste and tight cunt.
“Only if you let me pick the restaurant.” You negotiate poorly, and even then, Javier sports a grin that lights up the whole room. The sun and her radiance doesn’t even nearly hold a candle to your husband’s smile.
“Deal.” He murmurs, lips marking their territory down your sternum. Before he gets any further, he kisses both of your breasts before enveloping a nipple into his mouth. You suck in a breath at the feeling, the sensation shooting straight down to your already needy and aching core.
Something of a whine escapes you, tugging on his hair as you arch your back off the mattress. You can feel his smug smirk against your skin before he switches sides, relishing the other pert bud before letting go with a small pop.
The anticipation is building up much quicker than you expected, and you’re squirming beneath Javi as his lips ghost your stomach, moving down the bed before uncovering your bottom half.
A lazy grin appears on his lips as he takes in the sight of your puffy, glistening pussy, ready for his tongue to drink you up like you’re the finest nectar on the planet.
Javier tsks at the sight teasingly, swiping his middle finger through your folds, preening at your receptiveness to his touch as your hips buck toward his mouth involuntarily. “Now who made my beautiful wife this wet and needy, hm?” He asks, moving his face down to kiss the supple skin of your thigh before biting down gently.
You yelp in surprise, looking down at him only to find him sporting a shit-eating grin. The word wife makes you even needier, loving the fact that you belong to him.
“You, mi corazón [my heart]. Solo tú.” [only you]
Javi closes his eyes at the endearment, nestling his cheek to your thigh as he breathes in a few times. He feels like he’s in an alternate reality where his dream woman just dropped out of the sky, and he gets to spend the rest of his life with her.
But this is real, you’re real, and he nearly has to pinch himself to prove that you aren’t a figment of his imagination. He gets to spend eternity with you, and he deems himself the luckiest son of a bitch alive.
He opens his eyes and his gaze meets yours once more, and you can’t help but reach out for his face. You look so ethereal to him as the golden rays fall upon your body, making you glow like a goddess. Your head is back against the pillows as you watch him with an adoring gaze from above, and he truly has no words to ever conjure up just how much he loves you.
And, for a moment, as he’s watching you watch him, his eyes flicker down to your stomach. Javier never thought he’d be a man who wants to have kids in his life. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d ever be able to get married, let alone to a gem such as yourself.
You’ve given him a softer life; a life full of love and happiness—a complete one-eighty from his time in Colombia—and a house to call a home, albeit you being his home no matter where you two are. You’d also be the one to be able to give him the ultimate gift: fatherhood.
He sweeps his reeling thoughts to the back of his mind for now, his main focus averting back to you and pleasing you until you’re screaming his name.
With that thought in mind, he wastes no more time before he gives your pretty, glistening pussy a kiss, delving his tongue into your folds right after.
You gasp at the sensation, eyebrows pinching together as his muscle works your nerves expertly as he’s done countless times before. He traces the tip of his tongue through your folds, up to your clit and flicks it a few times before moving back down to your entrance. He prods the muscle inside and dutifully fucks you with his tongue, the pace delicious as his nose bumps your clit repeatedly in the process.
You grip onto his hair, hips bucking into his face in tandem with the stroke of his tongue.
You can’t help but cry out his name repeatedly, and he feels prideful that he’s the only one that can make you feel this good.
Javi’s mouth separates from your dripping cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with the taste he loves oh so much.
“Taste like a dream, muñequita.” [doll] He breathes, sliding his hand down to grip your thigh as the other toys with the slick on your pussy. He kisses your thigh again and he looks up at you trying to catch your breath. Your head already feels fuzzy at the immense pleasure your husband’s tongue brings you, and to top it off, he slides his middle and ring finger into you.
He keeps his eyes on your face and watches as you unravel, pumping his fingers in and out of you. He makes sure to curl his fingers to hit the very specific spot he knows you like, and when he does, you lose all resolve. You crumble under his touch as your arousal seeps out of you and down his fingers, coating his wedding band in your juices as they flow down to his wrist.
“So fucking pretty, baby. You like when I fuck you with my fingers?” He asks, and you nod without hesitation.
“Words, corazón.” [heart]
“Fuck–fuck, yes, Javi, oh, god-” You cry, and he squeezes your thigh before diving back down to lap up your pussy once more. The combination of his tongue and fingers is absolutely lethal—you know you aren’t going to last much longer.
Javier is the matchbox to your match, dragging, dragging, dragging you along. The coil in your core is wound up so tight that within seconds, you break and light aflame.
You cry out his name, the sound of your own desperate plea reverberating off of the four walls of the villa’s bedroom eagerly.
You feel like you’re gushing everywhere—his fingers, his mouth, the bedsheets—and it’s pure ecstasy when he blows out the flame, your body the smoke as you dissipate into the luxury of a devastatingly euphoric bliss.
Javi drags his lips up your thigh, to your torso, all the way up to your jaw before capturing your lips in a searing kiss as you both share the taste of you on his tongue.
He hums into the kiss and separates from you, bringing his slick-coated fingers to your mouth. You huff a laugh as you eagerly lick the arousal off of his wedding ring and up his digit, popping both of them into your mouth and suck them until they’re clean.
Javi’s cock is impossibly hard now, but he knows how badly you want to explore the beautiful city. So, he pushes his urges down for now, though you’d likely gladly take his cock into that pretty mouth of yours and suck him dry.
He groans as he gets up from the bed, giving you another chaste kiss before he trudges to the bathroom to retrieve a towel to clean you up. Your eyes follow him as you lay on your side, head propped up by your hand. You study his figure unashamedly, admiring your husband and his bare form in all of its glory. Long legs, toned arms, tan skin, and of course, that insanely cute ass of his—and he’s all yours. Every inch of his beautiful body, face, and mind is yours.
He walks out of the bathroom with a towel in hand, and you can’t help but admire his impressive length. He teasingly throws the towel at you and you catch it, and before you can protest, his body is hovering over yours.
“Someone can’t keep their eyes to themselves, hm?” He quirks a brow at you.
“Well excuse me for admiring my husband and how sexy he is.” You retort, and he can’t help the guttural laugh that escapes his belly.
“You’re something else, you know that?” His tone is playful, snatching the towel from you as he cleans you up.
You prop yourself up on your elbows as you give him a stern look, and he meets your gaze with a boyish grin.
“You’re the one who married me. That’s on you.” You say, and he grabs your shoulders after tossing the towel onto the floor before giving you a light shake.
“And it’s been the best decision of my life, muchas gracias.” [thank you very much]
You roll your eyes before leaning up and giving him a kiss, tapping his thigh as you pull apart.
“Up and at ‘em, baby. Italy is waiting for us.”
-
You watched Javi as he bought some fresh fruit from a vendor at the street market, patrons bustling on the side as they enjoyed the beautiful weather and scenery before them. The water was a brilliant hue of blue, tying in the bright colors and coastal landscaping Positano had to offer.
Javi holds out his arm for you after he purchases the fruit, and you gladly cling onto his bicep as you make your way down the street. You stop for a moment to look at him and admire his outfit—bright blue shirt that contrasted beautifully against his tan skin, and some white pants paired with brown loafers.
He gave you a face when you originally suggested the shoes to him because it simply wasn’t something he’d ever wear, but they were insanely comfortable and undoubtedly great for walking, deeming you right once more.
“Mi esposa always knows what’s best,” [my wife] He’d said.
Javi peels an orange for you both to share, splitting it in half and hand feeding you the slices. You bite the tip of his finger playfully, and he can’t help but admire the buttery sweet sound of the laugh that emanates you.
You hum at the citrus taste of the orange, closing your eyes in delight at how fresh it is.
“That’s delicious.” You say aloud, and Javi looks at you while sliding his aviators down the bridge of his nose.
“It is, but nothing compares to the taste of you.”
Your face heats up at his words, hiding it in the crook of his neck for a second while letting out a mumbled ‘behave’ from you.
He’s smug when you pull your face back from the warmth of his body, and you lightly swat his chest in mock-chastise.
“You hungry, mamí?” He pulls a food guide of local restaurants out from his back pocket, and you nod eagerly.
“For more than just food.” You murmur, slotting your arms onto his broad shoulders, letting one hand dangle and the other play with the curls at the nape of his neck. His hands instinctively grab onto your waist and he pulls your body flush to his.
“Now who needs to behave, hm?”
“Still you.” You beam.
“Smartass.” He retorts with a chuckle.
“Maybe. But you love me.”
“That I do, bebita,” [baby girl] He leans in for a kiss before handing you the food guide, and you briefly scan the options.
“How about some pizza?”
-
The restaurant reminds you of your first date with Javier. You remember how much he tried to impress you, and even then, you knew he was someone special. To end up here with him in Italy eating the most delicious pizza and drinking the crispest glass of wine four years later seems like a total fever dream.
Javi raises his glass up to you, giving you his infamous puppy dog eyes and the softest smile you think you’ve ever seen on him. “Cheers to you, amor de me vida,” [love of my life] “You make me the happiest man alive. You’ve given me everything I could wish for and then some, and your beautiful heart and soul never ceases to amaze me.”
Tears prick your eyes as you raise your glass to clink against his, sipping the Prosecco in your glass. You reach for his left hand across the table, bringing his knuckles up to your lips as you kiss them and his wedding band repeatedly.
“I love you, Javier Peña. Thank you for giving me a life well beyond my wildest dreams. I’d do anything for you. It’s me and you against the world, baby.”
“I’ll never know how a bastard like me got so goddamn lucky. You’re a godsend, corazón,” [heart] “What if we had an addition to our world?” He asks, voice almost shy as he tries to gauge your reaction.
“What do you mean, mi amor?” [my love]
”How do you feel about starting a family? With me?”
He’s hopeful with the way he stares at you, squeezing your hand as he awaits your answer.
“Is that something you want, baby? I know a while back you said you weren’t too sure.”
You’d love to have a family with Javier. The thing was, he wasn’t too sure of that awhile back when things really got serious between you two. You were a little crushed by the prospect of not having kids with the love of your life, but you’d learn to make do. It was never a dealbreaker for you specifically, but you’ve always felt like you were meant to be a mom.
“I’m sure now. I love the sound of having a little one of us running around. We don’t need to rush into it, though. I just—I want this with you, and I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Well, besides asking you to be mine para siempre.” [forever]
You try to not let your emotions overwhelm you in the moment. The man sitting in front of you has you in pure awe, with the way a softness has wrapped itself around his heart, showing him that this side of life is full of warmth and love. He’s gradually learned to accept it, unlearning all of the harsh stoicism that seized his being in the past.
“You’d be the best daddy, Javier Peña. No doubt in my mind.”
His face gleams with joy as he brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing each knuckle individually.
“And you’d be the best mommy, Mrs. Peña.”
Your heart flutters at the sound of your new last name. You still genuinely cannot believe you’re married to this man.
“Chucho is probably going to ask when we’re going to give him grandbabies.”
Javier can’t help but laugh, knowing full well his father would undoubtedly ask that question as soon as you two get back to Texas.
He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at you. “We should start practicing now then, mamí. Wouldn’t wanna keep him or the rest of the family waiting.”
-
A sheen of sweat coats your brow and chest as you arrive back to your villa with Javi. The walk itself wasn’t far but the warm weather was starting to get to you. And yet, as soon as you walked through the doors of the bedroom, he was on you.
He was kissing your pulse point while his hands roamed over your body with fervor, skimming over the cotton material of the sundress you were wearing. You giggle as his mustache tickles your neck, playfully nudging him.
“Javi, baby, I’m all sticky and sweaty. Let me take a shower first.”
He hums at your words, continuing the assault of his lips down your jugular before nibbling on your hot skin. His grip on your waist tightens before he leads you backwards into the bathroom, hands moving down to your ass before giving it a playful slap. He spins you around so you’re both facing the huge mirror above the double vanity, and his hands settle onto your stomach.
His eyes travel down to where his hands are as he starts to rub his thumbs back and forth. The look of pure love in his eyes was enough to tell you how badly he really wants to be a father. You reach an arm back to cradle the side of his face, craning your neck to the side to give his cheek a kiss.
“Can you just imagine growing a life that’s half you and half me in here? Nuestro hijo o hija. You’d be glowing even more than you do now, mi amor.” [our son or daughter ; my love]
Your gaze snaps back up to his face, his usual stoic brow softened at the idea of you carrying his child. You didn’t think you could fall in love with this man even more, but picturing him taking your newborn baby out of the carseat after coming home from the hospital and seeing their tiny body resting against his chest in comfort, against someone so loving and so familiar, gives you an indescribable amount of butterflies.
His eyes meet yours in the mirror once more, and you can’t help but give him a soft smile. Both of you are well aware that no words can ever come close to describing the emotions that flow through your minds and hearts, but somehow still connect perfectly like a puzzle piece.
It’s sacred, your love with Javi, and it’s something you’ll both pour into your future child endlessly.
Javi’s lips find your neck once more, fingertips skating over the sticky flesh of your arms before settling on the straps of your dress. His lips move to your shoulder as he slips one strap off, then the other, and tugs down gently so the fabric falls and pools at your feet.
You’re bare on top, and Javi takes advantage of the beautiful sight and kneads your breasts with his hands. You can’t help the way your head lolls back onto his shoulder, biting your lip as he tweaks both nipples simultaneously.
“My beautiful wife.” He whispers, trailing a hand down your torso and over the fabric of your panties, teasingly rubbing you through the thin material. A gasp evades you as the familiar low ache bubbles in your core once again.
“Javi,” You gasp, hand flying up to steady yourself as you grab the side of his neck.
“Fuck, I love the way you say my name.”
Your ass presses against his front, and you feel his cock harden in his pants. You turn around to face him and he grabs your hips instinctively before pulling you forward so you’re flush to his body. He leans in to kiss you ferociously, hands sliding down to grab your ass as you toss your arms over his shoulders.
You stay like that for a minute just enjoying the simplicity in the art of kissing your husband before reaching down to unbutton his shirt. You slide the material off of his shoulders before moving down to his pants, palming his cock teasingly. He groans into your mouth and kisses you like a starved man, backing you toward the shower. You slide his jeans off of his hips once he’s stagnant and he steps out of them, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.
Before you two can continue your escapades, he gives your forehead a kiss before turning on the shower to a temperature comfortable for you both. You slide your panties off and he mirrors your actions, sliding his boxers off before you both step inside.
The lukewarm water cools your skin briefly before Javi steps under the stream, face up toward the water. You watch as the droplets stream down his face, to his neck and shoulders, down his torso and down down down into the dark, wiry hairs that sit below his navel and above his delicious length.
Your mouth is practically salivating at the sight before you, and you need to have a taste of your husband.
Your hands are gentle on his torso before they drag down, your body lowering with them until you’re on your knees. Javi looks down at you with his lips parted and a wild look in his eye.
You lick your lips and smirk at him before pushing on his thighs, backing him up so he sits down onto the bench in the shower. You scoot forward on your knees, admiring your man from below as his thighs spread wide and his hard cock is already furious and leaking pre-come, slathering itself onto his torso.
Your nails scratch his thighs lightly before you lean down to kiss them each once, looking back up at him before taking his cock into your hand. You pump his silky flesh a few times before swiping your thumb over his slit, spreading his arousal over the head of his cock before lowering your mouth.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the taste, absolutely entranced by this man and his cock that you love oh so much.
“My wife is so pretty with my cock in her mouth.” He says, stroking the side of your face with his thumb.
You separate from him as you sit back on your heels, pumping his length as you quirk a brow. “I think I look prettier when your cock is in me, papí.”
He groans and squeezes his eyes shut, thumping his head against the shower wall. “Got a dirty fucking mouth, bebita. Christ.” [baby girl]
“Just wait to see what it’ll do to your cock.” You can’t help but giggle at the way your words were easily affecting him, but you decide to cease your teasing.
You slowly take him into your mouth, gagging as you reach the hilt. You swallow around him as best as you can manage before bringing your mouth up once more, swirling your tongue around his tip before taking him all the way into your mouth again.
He’s heavy and warm against your tongue, twitching with every bob of your head as you set a steady rhythm. You squeeze your lips around him and he cradles the back of your head, guiding your movements up and down his cock in haste.
“Your mouth feels so– fuck– fucking good, corazón.” [heart]
He struggles to vocalize a coherent thought, babbling on about how good you make him feel and how much he loves you.
The broken praises only spur you on further as you begin to deepthroat him with every pass, tears pricking your waterline as you control your gag reflex. He’s nearly bucking his hips up into you at this point, fucking your mouth at a pace that drives him insane.
“Shit– yeah, baby, just like that. Fuck you’re so perfect, I’m gonna fucking come—”
You hum around him and squeeze your lips even tighter, gripping his thighs as he tenses up. His spend shoots onto your tongue and he can’t help the loud groan that rumbles through his chest, the feeling of your mouth so heavenly around his cock. You swallow everything he gives you, enjoying the view of your husband’s post-orgasm glow.
The late afternoon sun seeps into the bathroom and illuminates him in such a way that even the Greek Gods have nothing against. He looks picturesque like this; mouth parted and panting—a wild and untamable rasp, eyes shut as he comes down from the orgasm he’s been pining after all day long. His wet curls stick to his forehead in disarray, but it suits him.
His eyes slowly peel open and peer down at you, and you know better than to give him a smug smile. Instead, you lean down and kiss his inner thigh a few times without breaking his heady gaze.
“C’mere.” He murmurs, pulling you up by your elbows. You’re standing now, and he leans forward to kiss your stomach a few times before he pats his thighs. You straddle his hips, hands landing on his chest as you trace small patterns.
His hand slides down and in between your thighs where it’s slick with your arousal. You were so lost in pleasing your husband that you didn’t notice the incessant need growing stronger by the minute. It wasn’t a low, bubbling thing anymore—it was a full-fledged monstress clawing her way to the surface, begging to be tamed.
The carnal desire for Javi couldn’t be held off anymore. You leaned in to kiss him, moaning into his mouth as your hips rock against nothing in particular. Javi is already half-hard again, and ever the gentleman that he is, he angles you down to where your dripping core is gliding against his warm, thick length.
A strangled moan leaves your lips as you toss your head back, and Javi leans forward to nose at your jaw before peppering your neck in kisses. He nibbles on the junction between your neck and shoulder, rocking his hips up onto you simultaneously.
You whine his name as you loll your head forward, eyes blinking open and gaze locking with his.
You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to say your next words—maybe it’s the look in his eye, maybe it’s a mixture of desperation and desire, maybe it’s just pure, honest truth. Hell, maybe it was all of the above.
“I want to make you a daddy, Javi.” Your voice is sultry and sickeningly sweet, dripping like honey.
And from that point, he was determined. Determined to make you the mother of his child, determined to start a family with you and grow it to both your heart's content, and determined to love and cherish you and your future child, or children—always—and Javier Peña was a man of his word.
He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you forward so you both are chest to chest, and you’re reeling over the look he’s giving you. He notches his tip at your entrance, fully hard once again with the promising tone behind your words.
“Say it again.” He says.
“I want to make you,” You pause, moving your lips down to slot between his, pulling back just enough to whisper the rest of your sentence. “A daddy.” You sink down slowly onto him, and you kiss him again as you slowly adjust yourself to him.
You both moan into each other, pulling apart as he fully sheathes himself into you. You’re so full like this, content in every way possible at the feeling of your husband’s cock stretching you out so deliciously. You rock your hips slightly as a test, moaning at the sensation that surges through you.
You do it again, this time with more intent, and slowly set a rhythm with your hips. The feeling of his cock is otherworldly. A greedy, selfish part of you thinks that you’ll never be able to get enough of him or the feeling of this—being connected as so.
You fist a hand into his thick wet locks as the other grabs onto his shoulder, ensuring you can keep your balance as you rock your hips back and forth. He captures your mouth in a blazing kiss, groping your ass before slapping it once as he picks up the pace for you.
You’re panting into each other’s mouths as he increases the pace, now pounding his hips up into you. You cry out his name as your fingernails claw their way down his back and he hisses in pleasure, cradling the back of your head.
Your mind is fuzzy and your lungs are on fire from kissing him desperately, and the white hot feeling in your core is blazing.
“I–I love you, Javi– oh, god, I fucking love you. I love you and I want you to be the father of my child and I—” You’re babbling so much that you don’t even have a clue as to what it is that you’re really trying to say, but Javi gets the message, you think.
He kisses your jaw as you try and match the movement of your hips to each thrust up into you, but it’s genuinely no use. Your body wants to succumb to Javier and his strong body and delicious cock and beautiful face and his big, loving heart—so you let it. You fall limp in his hold, leaning onto him as your orgasm surges through you unexpectedly.
He can feel you pulsating around him and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.
“Gonna make you a mama. Gonna be so good to our baby, the best mama ever.” He’s losing all self control, and you cradle his head as you ride out your prolonged orgasm.
“Please, Javi.” You beg, and that’s enough for him to completely come undone. His hips still as he comes in you, a string of ‘I love you’s’ spilling from his mouth. You’re both breathless and completely dazed, immersed in post-coital bliss. The sound of the shower water hitting the tile floor is a relaxing constant as you both try to control your breathing.
You sit like this for a while; you're perched in his lap as he leans against the wall, face tucked into the crook of his neck.
You smatter kisses along his pulse point as a silent plea of love. You’re both pruny and fucked-out, but being here with each other like this is truly a dream in itself.
The prospect of his dream woman giving him a child has him reeling, so perhaps leaving the room this week is an empty promise that flew out of the door the minute you told him you’d make him a daddy.
Even if nothing happens right away for the two of you, that’s okay, too. You’d get to relish in the unbelievable life you already share with him a bit longer, built from the ground up by you and a man who loves you unconditionally. A man that would individually pick out the stars from the brilliant night sky for you. A man that still cannot fathom that he gets to share this life with you.
And if that’s the case, you really wouldn’t mind at all.
tags: @punkshort @endlessthxxghts @javierpena-inatacvest @ovaryacted @northernbluess @clawdee @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 (since all of you were excited about me posting this. ily)
divider by @saradika-graphics
#javier pena fic#javier peña#javier pena imagine#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena smut#javier pena x you#javier pena narcos#pedro pascal characters
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Fifteen Weeks
Din Djarin x Cam Girl Reader AU
Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: It's been fifteen weeks since Din Djarin first entered your life, now you can't imagine it without him. You take a leap of faith in your relationship and visit him at his farm. Warnings: Smut, loss of virginity, face sitting, premature ejaculation, unprotected p in v sex (reader is tested and has an IUD, protect yourselves IRL), mentions of sex work, anxiety, Din is bad at feelings, farmhouse emotions, goats!, yes I made Din Djarin a schnauzer owner don't judge me. Words: 5,050
A/N: Here it is folks, the follow up to Fifteen Minutes, which I originally wrote as a standalone. Thank you to @goodwithcheese for speaking so highly about Fifteen Minutes thus making me revisit this draft and finally finish it. I also want to thank @frannyzooey for taking a look at the bare bones of this months ago. I really love these two and I’m so glad they finally get to eat soup together.
Masterlist
___
“So, where ya’ headed?” the Uber driver asks, turning toward the departures terminal.
“Just to see a... friend."
“Hm. Must be a special friend to catch a flight this early.”
“I guess he is,” you smile through a yawn.
___
Waiting to board. Can’t wait to finally see you! xxxx🙂
Hitting the send button, you shake your head still finding it hard to believe you’re traveling almost halfway across the country to meet a man. A man you’ve fallen head over heels for.
Can’t wait to see you too. See you soon.
His response arrives just in time. A nervous rush of excitement courses through your body before turning your phone off for departure.
You wonder if your seatmate can feel your leg shake as the nerves tap out against the plane floor. Sure, you’re excited, you’re ready to meet Din in person but there still is trepidation twisting inside of you. You’ve never done anything like this at all. You’ve never met a client and now you’re on a plane headed to one. You’ve known him for only four months, but the connection the two of you share is something you’ve never believed to be something you’d find. You’ve dealt with enough men wearing wedding bands who tell you they love you, that you’re the most beautiful woman they’ve seen, that you’re their whole world. Love is a ridiculous concept when you charge ten dollars a minute.
With Din, it’s different, it’s something that can be named, can be felt, can be solved, and yet so many questions about it remain. What do you call the quiet silence that exists between the two of you, happy to be on the phone keeping each other company every night? The small laugh and head shake he does whenever you tell him he’s cute? The random texts of his life that always brightens your day? The way he nods with zero judgment when he hears the ding of your new client alert? What do you call the decision that got you here on this plane?
You read the same page over and over in your book. Will you sleep in his bed tonight?
You give up on reading and stare forward at the little map on the seat screen. What does he smell like?
You look out the window and watch the clouds disintegrate around you. Is he just as nervous as you?
You turn the volume up and try to drown out your racing thoughts. Will this all be worth it?
Two hours left to find out.
___
You step off the escalator, eyes scanning the crowded baggage claim area for the reason why you’ve taken a six hour flight halfway across the country. Your hands grip the backpack strap tighter trying to calm the nerves overtaking your heart and brain.
There, right there, leaning against a column alone in the shadows is Din and the brown eyes you’ve only dreamt of seeing in real life. He straightens when you make eye contact, but makes zero attempt to move, still frozen against the column. You lose the fight to hide your smile and excitement hurriedly shuffling over to him, he smiles as you get closer, the same shy half grin he gives when he says good night. His hands slip out of his pockets as you approach. Goodness, he’s so big and handsome, he could be a heartbreaker of all sorts to anybody he sets his sights on. The phone doesn’t do his beauty any justice.
“Hi,” you smile.
“H-hey, I can’t believe you’re… here,” his voice sounds even smoother and deeper in person.
“I am,” you shuffle on your feet. Hug me, kiss me, let me hug you, let me kiss you.
He tucks his hands back into his hoodie pocket, his silent rejection shoots a pang of longing through you.
You thought it’d play out like a grand romantic movie, you’d jump into his outstretched arms and he’d never let go. Din’s rejection fills you with jealousy… screw all of the happy couples. You hate those movies now.
Touch me.
Of course he’s nervous, you’re nervous too, you’re just better at hiding it. He still leans against the column, shielded by the liminal space.
“Do you have luggage?” He’s right in front of you and yet you’re too scared to touch him, too anxious you’ll scare him away.
“Nope, just my backpack and carry-on.”
Hug me, kiss me, let me hug you, let me kiss you.
“Oh, okay, did you want to leave then?”
“I didn’t come here to see the airport Din,” you place a hand on his hoodie clad arm. He looks down and stares.
Did you overstep? You couldn’t have, you just watched this same man orgasm for you last night while chanting how he couldn’t wait to paint you with his cum.
“Din,” you snap him out of his stare, “come on, I’m ready to leave.”
You know he’s not trying to reject you, but his nervous aloofness is overwhelming when all you want is for him to touch you… just once.
“I—uh, here, let me take your bags,” he mumbles, reaching past you to grab your suitcase. “It’s really cold, do you have a heavier jacket?”
“No, but I’ll be okay,” you reassure. The cold won’t sting nearly as much as Din’s seemingly innocent rejection.
“Here,” he pulls the collar of his hoodie over his head. “I’m used to this cold. You aren’t.”
You take the bundle of black fabric from his outstretched hand, not realizing just how cold you were until you put the hoodie warmed by his body heat on. It smells of him. Faint hints of campfire, wood, leather, citrus, and cinnamon. You wish you were wrapped up in Din himself, touching him, smelling him, tasting him. Hug me, kiss me, let me hug you, let me kiss you.
“Thank you,” you whisper. Whatever is happening inside of him seems to be bleeding over into your mind. You’re now second guessing every decision to come here. He was excited last night, he texted you this morning how he couldn’t wait to see you, is he disappointed?
“Yeah, of course,” he nods and turns towards the door, walking away in quick strides leaving you alone in the dark corner near that damn column he’d rather touch than you. He has your suitcase and backpack, so either this is a really expensive way to get robbed or he has zero clue how his actions are affecting you.
He turns back to you as he reaches the automatic doors, his eyes wide with guilt when he spots you still standing in the same place he left you. Well, at least he feels bad.
You let a deep breath out to steel yourself and walk to him.
“I-I’m sorry, just not used to ever having to… you know…”
“I know, it’s okay Din,” you gently smile. What in the world have you gotten yourself into?
“I’m just—“
“Nervous. I know Din, it’s okay. I understand this is a lot.”
“It is, but just… know that how I’m acting is not how I’m feeling. I’m really happy to have you here. You’re so… beautiful and I—thank you for being here with me.”
There it is. Everything is worth it now. The early morning Uber to the airport, the neverending TSA line, the cramped airplane seat, the nervousness you feel. You’d do it all again to hear that sentence.
“Of course, I know. You’re okay,” you take his hand. If he’s not going to do it, you’ll do it. “Come on, let’s go.”
His eyes stay downcast staring at your hand wrapped around his.
You clear your throat to get his attention, his eyes snap up to yours. “Din, let’s go.”
“R-right. Of course. Right.”
He leads you out the door, gripping your hand harder when the bitter wind lashes against your skin.
The two of you weave your way through the parking lot until you reach a large silver truck. It’s clean with a few dents and scratches. Well taken care of but old.
Din opens the creaky door and helps you step up. The black leather seat is smooth as you slide across it.
Din places your luggage in the back before opening his door and deftly stepping in.
You hide a deep exhale when he starts the engine.
He clears his throat and you look over. “It’s–uh nice to see you in here.”
“I’m glad,” you smile, turning and reaching your hand out to touch his cheek. Your thumb finds the little heart patch on the side of his face, you’ve been thinking about how it’d feel since you first saw it. You can’t help yourself, he looks so delicate, as if he’s aching to be touched but too scared to ask for it. You’re holding a scared fawn in your hands. Don’t scare him, don’t move too quickly, let him figure things out on his own.
His lips part as he inhales, deep brown eyes staring into yours, the nervousness radiating off his skin fills the truck cabin. You wish you could just throw caution to the wind and force him to tell you exactly how he’s feeling, to slide across the bench seat and beg him to take you right here in this airport parking lot. You don’t. You pull your hand away and put your seatbelt on.
“I can’t wait to see your home. I’ve never been to an actual farm before.”
___
You’ve seen glimpses of Din’s home in random pictures he’s texted you or your nightly FaceTime sessions, but you never imagined just how picturesque it could be. A large white two story farmhouse situated in the middle of a vast expanse of green grass, a small tin roofed barn sits to the side with a herd of goats happily grazing. Din’s life must be so peaceful here, very different compared to your townhouse in the middle of suburbia.
“It’s beautiful,” you muse as he pulls into the driveway. “I can understand why you never wanted to leave.”
The truck stops in front of his home, a german shepherd and a little schnauzer run down the porch steps and head for Din’s truck.
“They’ll be fine with you, but let me get out so I can control them.”
Din gets out of the truck, you chuckle to yourself as his clipped directions to the dogs are drowned out by excited barks.
He opens your door and reaches his hand out.
“Grogu! Boba! Back!” Din shouts as he helps you step down. His raised voice makes your heart skip a beat. You didn’t know he could ever be this loud.
“It’s okay, I like your dogs, you know I think they’re cute,” you bend down and tap on your knees to beckon them over. “This must be Grogu,” you scratch his soft ears. “He does have big ears.”
“They’re not that used to other people.”
“Hmm,” you stand up and pat the top of Boba’s head, “sounds like someone I know.”
He chuckles as he walks up the porch steps and unlocks the front door.
Warmth fills your body as you walk over the threshold. White walls, worn floorboards, antique furniture, all of it taken care of and clean. Tidy and well kept up, a lot like his truck, aged but in better shape and made to last; a far change from your newbuild townhouse and IKEA furniture.
“Diiin,” you breathe, “it’s beautiful in here. Like… I knew you lived in a nice house, but wow, between this and the farm… when do you sleep?”
“I sleep enough. I’ll go get your bags, make yourself… at home.”
You take a seat on his couch, it’s perfect for him. Beige, simple lines, nothing fancy, not too comfortable, but probably the height of cozy after a long day working on a farm. Grogu jumps up and sits next to you, his little bearded face panting happily next to yours. You scratch his chest and praise him as he inches closer towards you. Boba stays near the entry, waiting for Din.
“Think he likes you,” Din says as he places your bags by the steps. “Don’t take Boba’s standoffishness personally he’s–”
“Like you. I know,” you smile.
“Did– what would you like to do?”
“Can I see the computer where you first talked to me?”
“Um, yeah,” he walks down the hallway leaving you behind yet again, “it’s just in here.”
You shake your head and rise off the couch to follow, obviously he’s not used to company.
You walk into a small office, everything has a place, efficient and tidy, perfectly Din. Paperwork stacked in neat stacks, a calendar with his sharp writing all over it hung on the wall, today’s date circled with your name written in the box.
A black monitor sits on a mahogany desk.
“This is the computer, huh?” you ask, running your hands across the black keyboard,
“It is.”
“So this is where it all began? You sat there, clicked on my picture, and now look. I remember when I first heard your voice,” you face him taking both of his hands in yours, “it was so deep and warm, it lit something inside of me.”
You guide his arms to wrap around you, his hands rest on your lower back.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you after our first session ended. There was something so pure and mysterious about you, I knew you weren’t lying about wanting to know. It wasn’t some kink you had, I knew you needed help. I felt lucky to be the one to show you.”
He sighs as you rest your head against his chest hearing the rhythm of his heart. “I closed that window so many times before finally agreeing and joining. I-I kept on thinking about how I could talk to someone as beautiful as you, all it would take is just a click. You were so pretty.”
“Just a click,” you whisper, craning your neck up as Din lowers his head. His nose bumps against yours, his plush bottom lip is captured between your lips, another part of him you’ve wanted to touch since you first saw him. You finally kiss him, sweet and tender, his lips molding to yours perfectly. He pulls you in closer, his tongue hesitantly dipping into your mouth as you lick against him. The past fifteen weeks have finally led to this moment inside of this old farmhouse office in the middle of nowhere. Your Din and his soft lips, tense hands against your back, your soft coos mingling with his low groans, you could stay in this moment forever, if it wasn’t for Din’s phone beeping in his pocket.
“I’m sorry,” he pulls away, a bashful smile adorns his face, “I need to go take care of the goats before sundown.”
“Of course.”
He hugs you, planting a soft kiss against your forehead and inhaling your scent before leaving. He’s warming up…
___
Din loves soup. You know this by the nights you spend with him over the phone. The man eats soup almost every single night. Soup with bread, soup and a baked potato, soup and steak, soup, soup, soup.
You can’t blame him, the stew and homemade rolls he serves you for dinner are delicious. He shyly tells you it’s his speciality when he places the porcelain bowl in front of you.
You could get used to the farm life. A fire burns in the fireplace while the tv plays Din’s favorite movie he’s been wanting to show you, some film about a galaxy far far away and an unlikely hero. The man loves space.
His arm slung across your shoulder lies heavily on you, warming you inside and out. Grogu sleeps on your lap, softly snoring as you pet his gray fur. Din occasionally sneaks a kiss against your hair, you don’t know if you’ve ever been more comfortable in your life.
The movie ends, a grand symphonic score plays over the credits.
“That was really good,” you smile towards Din. “I liked it.”
A grin slowly stretches across his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, thank you for showing me it.”
“You’re welcome,” he gazes at you, the same look he smolders through the phone, like he can’t believe his luck that you’re talking to him.
You attempt to fight a yawn and lose. Your eyes blink tiredly at Din when he reaches and rubs his thumb against your cheek.
“Did you want to,” he clears his throat, “sleep in my room with me tonight?”
“Only if you want me to Din.”
“I, uh, I do.”
“Okay, I’d like that.”
___
The airplane and long day washes off and rinses down Din’s shower drain. You use his washcloth and think of his hands touching you. You smell his soap and think of inhaling the scent as he holds you close. You don’t know what’s about to happen once you leave this room. If you’re this nervous, how does he feel?
Din looks up from the book he’s reading and watches you step out of the bathroom shyly padding over and getting into bed.
“What are you reading?” you whisper.
“Some book about a cowboy warrior in space…”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It’s good.”
“You know,” you look around the simple bedroom, “I see this room all the time, but only the wall behind your bed, hardly anything else. It’s been really nice seeing more of your life.”
He nods, blinking back to his book.
The night can’t end like this.
You grab the book from his hands and place it on the table.
“What are you thinking about Din? I never know what’s going on inside of you.”
“H-how pretty you look wearing that.”
You look down at the pink silk tank top and shorts and swallow down a smile. You specifically wore it because you know how Din’s eyes light up whenever you put it on. “It’s my favorite because it’s so soft. Do you want to feel it?”
He turns to you wide-eyed and gives you a solitary nod.
“Go ahead Din.”
His tan hand splays across your stomach, golden toned skin rests against the blushy silk of your tank.
“S’soft,” he murmurs to himself.
“Here,” you place your hand over his and press down, “really feel it.”
His eyes angle down watching your hand navigate his around your stomach to just below your breasts. His mouth sits slightly agape, thick brows furrowing in concentration as you slip his hand underneath the fabric, his trembling calloused fingers making contact with your skin.
“Am I soft here Din?”
“Y-Yes,” he stammers.
“Touch me, as little or as much as you want. Wherever you’re comfortable doing, okay?” you remove your hand from his. “I came here for you… whatever you want… I want..”
“I want to,” he gulps, “I want to touch you all over.”
“I’m all yours baby.”
His shoulders deflate with a groan, he trails his hand higher to cup one of your breasts. The tips of his fingers peek out of the top of your tank. Tan, well worked strong hands lay against your smooth skin. The sight makes you moan, your teeth gnawing at your lip, trying to qualm the temptation to touch him further.
“Take it off Din.” His dark brown eyes beam up to yours. “Go ahead baby.”
He grabs the hem of your tank top, softly bundling it in his hands and lifting it over your head leaving you bare chested.
“Kiss me and touch me baby,” you gently will.
His lips form over yours, his hands return to your skin, petting and caressing your breasts before you cover them, pushing them farther down your stomach. His breaths quicken against your mouth when you slip his hands underneath the band of your shorts.
“Fuck,” he pants against your lips when his hand meets the wetness seeping from your pussy. “Fuuuuuck.”
“You feel me baby? That’s how wet you always make me, ever since the first time we talked and all you were was a black square with a sexy voice. It’s like we were destined in the stars.”
“God damnit, you’re so soft,” Din’s hips buck into the air, his head thuds against the headboard when his thick finger slips in between your folds. “I-I-I oh god, I’m– I think I’m going to cum. I’m sorr–”
“It’s okay baby, I’m here, cum for me.” Your hand reaches down and grips his hard cock through his black sweatpants. “Cum for me Din.”
You feel a warm wet spot spread against your hand, pulling a moan from you..
“I’m--agh– sorry,” his big eyes stare at you, a hint of shame rounds them. “You feel so amazing.” He pulls his hand out of your shorts.
“No,” you whimper at the loss of contact. “I like it baby, I like that you like me so much that happened. Please don't apologize. Keep touching me if you want to. Do you?”
“God,” his eyes shrink in determination, “yes I do.”
“Okay baby.”
You sit in between his stretched out legs, lifting your hips to take off your shorts, spreading your legs wide, much the same way you do for your clients.
He stares at your exposed skin, eyes mapping every dip, curve and dimple of your body.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “I can’t believe you’re here… for me.”
“Of course I am baby.”
His fingers trace the plains of your legs, moving their way up to your thighs. His face set in a determinative scowl, eyes fixated on your core as he inches closer to it, now aching and soaked for him.
“I-I’ve never done this.”
“I know baby, you remember our first call?”
He nods.
“Remember what I told you what I liked?”
Another nod.
“Do that for me baby, touch me. Make me feel good.” A thick finger meets your lips, tracing a line up from your entrance to your clit before softly rubbing a circle around your sensitive nub. He remembered.
“You’re so wet for me,” he breathes out, his eyes staying planted staring at your pussy beguiled by his own actions.
“I am Din, only for you. I think about you every time. I-I,” you moan when he sticks a finger inside, slowly pumping it in and out, “I only want you.”
“Only want you too, baby. C-can I taste you?”
“Ye–oh my god, yes Din, I’m yours, do whatever you want to me.”
“I’m yours, anything you wa–”
“Sit on my face,” he growls.
“O-of course.”
You crawl towards him, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips before straddling his face, your dripping cunt hovers right over his mouth. He grips your ass and pulls you down, smothering himself with all of your slickness. You cover him like a mask, he worships your taste like a religion, moaning and groaning into your sweet pussy. Your praises about how good he’s doing and how amazing you feel incant out of your mouth as he takes you to paradise. Plush lips suck and savor you, your hands grip the bed frame like a precious artifact, his devotion to you and your pleasure pulls a melting orgasm from you.
“Din, Din, Din,” you pray at his altar, knees bowed and quaking against his ears as he drinks your offering down. You’re shattered, everything you’ve ever believed in replaced by Din and his idolatry of you.
You move your lust drunk body off and lay down next to Din. His face shines with a gloss of you, his tongue peeks out and licks his lips, before sending you a shy smile.
“You’re amazing,” he incredulously mutters.
“You are too,” a doting grin lights your face before pulling him in for a kiss. You can taste yourself on him, a moan leaves your throat at the realization.
Strong arms envelop you, pulling you closer to him, his hard cock juts against the soft skin of your thigh.
“Already?” you pull back and tease.
“C-can I feel you?”
“Feel me?”
“Yes, c-can I… can we….?”
A rush of anticipation thrums through your body at the implication of his nervousness.
“Yes Din, we can. Are you sure this is what you want tonight? We can wait.”
“N-no. I want you, I-I want this,” he moves his sweatpants down, kicking them off.
“Okay baby, okay,” you kiss him, grabbing his face, petting the soft hair of his sparse beard.
He rolls on top of you, cradling your head between his strong forearms, a heated kiss licks into your mouth as his naked weight covers you. Your legs open in a silent offer for Din to take everything you have. You can just feel the heft of his cock ghosting against your entrance.
He looks down at you, brown eyes wide, plush mouth parted, brows softened with adoration.
You send him a silent nod and smile when his cock enters you, feeling a sense of honor that you’re the one Din has chosen for this. You wouldn’t have it any other way. The green accept button, the reserved man dressed in all black, the deep voice, the connection between two screens. Now, you’re here with Din, moaning and rolling your hips to accept the length of him.
His neck strains when he sheathes his cock fully inside of you, panting and groaning as he slowly rocks back and forth.
“You … feel … like … heaven… I love your pussy… I love your body…. I… love you.”
He freezes at the divulgence, body locked in shock at his slip.
Your face lifts in a reassuring grin. “I love you too,” your hand grabs his chin, bringing his lips to yours.
You love him, you’ve known it for so long, but here in this farmhouse bed you can hear it, you can feel it.
Your bodies meld, hips meeting, lips locked, he gives you everything, you give him everything. Your pussy clenches around his slow, full strokes. This is making love.
“Baby, I-I.. I’m going t–” he strains.
“Go ahead Din, I got you.” Your hands trail up and down the expanse of his smooth back. He grunts, burying his head into the crook of your neck, fevered breaths hit your skin as his cum fills you.
He rolls off, pulling you to his side and kissing the top of your hair.
“Wow… I.. are you okay?”
“What?” your head perks up.
“You didn’t… uh–”
“I did when you fucked me with your tongue Din, I’m very happy and satisfied.”
“Oh, I just… I want to make sure you’re good.”
“Baby, I am very good. Trust me.”
“I love you,” he breathes.
“I love you too Din…” you rest your head against his chest, the exhaustion of the day settling in, quickly lulling you to sleep. This is the way to go to bed.
___
The faint sound of running water gently rouses you from the most peaceful slumber you’ve had. The sun has barely peaked over the horizon, the room’s still shrouded in a lazy darkness.
Din’s long sigh echoes against the tiles of the shower like a siren song.
You pad out of bed toward the bathroom, pushing the door wide open.
Your mouth drops at the sight ahead of you… Din’s muscular, toned golden body shines underneath a glistening sheen of water. He runs a gray wash rag across his stomach, the mop of dark, curly hair right underneath his hand beckons you to look farther down. You’ve seen him so many times before, almost every night, but this is the first time you’ve been able to see all of him in person. Din is a big man, his cock matches his stature. Just as long, just as broad, just as golden. God, he’s gorgeous.
You knock on the doorframe catching his attention, surprise tensing across his whole body.
“Good morning,” you purr, “can I join you?”
He nods, his cock grows visibly hard when you walk over and get in. The warm steam, Din’s naked body, and the smell of Din’s cedar body wash engulfs you, this is the way to wake up.
“Mmm, the hot water feels good,” you sigh, leaning your head against his chest. Din’s cock rests heavily in between you, tempting you to touch it. “Want me to wash you?”
He groans a yes.
“You can wash me too,” you propose, squeezing a dollop of body wash onto your palm, running it across your chest before leaving suds on your hands. “Go ahead Din.”
Drops of water land against your skin as his trembling hands slowly reach for your breasts. He massages and kneads, both palms laying against your tits, his touch turns more searing when your hands land on his chest, rubbing in the soap along the dusting of hair stretched across his broad body.
Your nipples pebble under his nervous, firm touch and undivided attention. He hisses when your hands slink farther down, running across the damp curls of his happy trail leading you to his cock standing between his thighs, thick and dripping. You wrap a fist around his length, his knees weaken causing his body to smash against the wall, his face grimacing in pleasured agony.
“Fuck,” he pants, water rains down into his wide open mouth, splashing out with every exclamation of your name he repeats as he cums all over your stomach.
Your tongue runs up the column of his neck to his mouth, swallowing his rapid breaths.
“You feel so good against me,” he gasps against your lips. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I am baby, I am,” you coo, wrapping your arms around him, wishing you could live in this tiny shower forever. This is the way to wake up.
___
Din settles on the porch swing next to you, pulling your blanket wrapped body close to him.
“Is this what you do every morning?”
“Just about,” he says before taking a drink of his coffee.
“It’s nice,” you yawn, “early but nice.”
He chuckles, “You get used to it.” “Mm,” you rest your head on his chest, smelling the fresh dew and hay on his flannel jacket.
“I really like you being here,” he softly says.
“I really like being here too.”
“You know,” he gulps, “you can do your job here… with me.”
___
A/N: Thank you for reading! This ending makes me feel:
#din djarin#pedro pascal#din djarin fic#din djarin smut#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#mandalorian x you#mandalorian smut#mandalorian fic#din djarin fanfiction#mandalorian au#din djarin au
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Hard Launch
Caitlin Clark X Fem Blurb
Synopsis: After dating for a year Caitlin decides today would be the best day to hard launch your relationship together.
———————————————————————————————————
I can’t believe all of the amazing things that have happened to me this year especially my girl that has stuck with me through thick and thin :) I’m so grateful for her ;) Love you baby
aliyah.boston my babies 🫶🏽
y/n y/l aw love you to cc
gabbie.marshall can’t believe it’s been over a year congrats guys
katemartin your welcome 😊
caitlinclark22 @katemartin stop taking credit for my relationship
y/n y/l @caitlinclark22 she did force us together baby
sabrina_i cuties ❤️
overtimewbb goals
lexiehulll best couple out here
paigebueckers favorite gay couple 🙏
y/n y/l @paigebueckers don’t make me say it paige
paigebueckers @y/ny/l IM SORRY
nalyssasmith my girlssss 🖤
You reply to a few of the comments under Caitlin’s post seeing a few comments from some fans that made you smile at how supportive they were. That didn’t take away from the trolls and rude comments as well but you ignored them because the good comments out weighted the bad.
Caitlin comes over to you on the couch slinging her arm around your shoulder, looking over you to see your phone “See I told you people would support us” she says proud of herself and her fans for making her right, once again.
“But some people said this” You point to some of the mean comments dissing your relationship. Reading the comments Caitlin grabs your phone shutting it off and putting in her pocket “So what? Those are a few random people your never gonna meet in your life. Who cares what they say I love you and that’s all that matters right?” Caitlin asks you her hand coming to hold your cheek in place so she can look at you.
Eye contact was always important to her, she loved looking into your eyes knowing you were looking back at her. You nod leaning into her hand “Yeah I know I love you too” you say quietly, that is she weren’t sitting infront of you herself she wouldn’t be able to hear you.
Her hand pulls you closer to her until your lips connect, you kiss her back. This wasn’t a normal kiss it was her showing you how much she loved you. The kiss was soft and slowly her hands holding you to her, all she wanted to do was protect you from the world. She never kept your relationship a secret more so private, for the past year she was scared for you, and what the fans would say or do to you. But with all the media and fame she has gotten, with getting drafted she wanted the world to know she was yours and you were hers. She loved you more than anything, that’s why you moved with her all the way to Indiana, so she could live her dreams with you by her side the whole time.
Caitlin pulls away from the kiss first, her thumb caresses the side of your face “You mean everything to me you know that right?” she asks you. This isn’t the first time she asked you something like this, she always made sure you knew how much she loved you and cared for you.
“Yeah I know you mean everything to me too that’s why we’re here with me by your side while you live out your basketball dreams” You reply to her your hand coming to hold her waist, rubbing up and down on the soft skin under her shirt. Caitlin visibly relaxes when your hands touch her skin, her eyes softening as she looks at you.
Now the whole world knows you together, which means she can show you off to everyone as her girlfriend. Caitlin jumps up from the couch “Come on get ready let’s go out so everyone can see you’re my girl” she beams excitedly.
Your furrow your brows “Baby you all ready posted it. Who are we seeing outside?” you ask her confused as her hands pull you up from the couch. She shrugs “I don’t know fans maybe, someone, a rando I don’t care” she tells you dragging you into your shared room.
All Caitlin could think about was how you were her girl and everyone now knew it.
#caitlin clark x fem#caitlin clark x reader#caitlin clark#caitlin clark smut#caitlin clark x y/n#wbb x reader#iowa wbb#wbb smut#wnba x reader#Caitlin Clark x you
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Ten Minutes
Didn’t love this when I first wrote it. Left it in my drafts for a LONG freakin’ time. Found it again and no longer care, so here yall go; have fun! Probably not a part 2 to this one.
Steve takes a breath, then another, as he waits for the line to connect. He grits his teeth, feeling eyes on him. He does his best to ignore them.
“Munson residence, if you’re calling about the murders I’ve been absolved of, try going to hell instead.”
“I need you to pick me up.”
A pause. “Stevie?”
Steve takes another breath. Tries to unclench his jaw. “Please.”
“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there- what-”
“My parents are in town.”
Another pause. “I’ll be there in ten. Try not to kill them.”
Steve laughs humorlessly. “Just hurry.”
“Ten minutes,” Eddie says, and hangs up.
Steve sighs, places the phone in its socket, and turns back to face his parents.
His mother is narrowing her eyes at him. “Who was that?”
“A friend,” he says lightly.
“Who, that Hagan boy?” His father scoffs.
“No. Not Tommy. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”
“Oh, Steve,” his mother tuts. “Always so dramatic. We’ve not even been gone a year-”
Steve laughs. It sounds hollow. “Try four years,” he informs her. “And three concussions. Did you hear about the mall two years ago? Or the boy who went missing four years ago?” He shakes his head when his mother looks at him blankly. “That’s what I thought.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” his father snaps. “And don’t you dare speak to your mother in that tone again, Steven. You’re still a child and I won’t hesitate to reprimand you as such.”
“I’m twenty,” Steve says evenly. “I’ll be twenty-one in five months.” He crosses his arms. “The last time you saw me, I was a freshman in high school. I’ve graduated. I found jobs. Lost some friends and made some better ones.”
“And what of that girl you were dancing around?” His mother asks. “Karen’s daughter?”
“We’re friends,” he says shortly, then moves through the kitchen, to the stairs. “Excuse me.”
“No,” his father says. “You’re not excused. Where do you think you’re going?”
Steve turns, one hand on the bannister, to look at the man who had terrified him the last time he’d seen him. It’s funny what interdimensional threats will do. “To pack a bag. I’m not going to stay here while you are.”
“And if I were to say we’re staying for good?”
Steve laughs. “Dad, you’ve said that before. Multiple times, actually. Those words mean nothing to me anymore.”
“And where are you planning on staying?” His mother asks. “Honestly, Steven, I thought we raised you to make better decisions than this.”
“Oh, I see. So it was raising me when I woke up at nine years old to discover you’d left and I’d have to find my own way to school. Then a week later when I had to ride my bike to the store to buy groceries. At eleven, when I looked the school counselor in the eye and said you’d be back soon. I had to go to my own parent-teacher conferences. At fifteen, trying to figure out high school classes. At seventeen when I got my first concussion. At eighteen when I signed my first legally-binding NDA. You hadn’t abandoned me. You were raising me.” He sighs, shakes his head. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
He makes his way up to his room and packs as much as he can. Clothes. Vinyls. The box of cash under the loose floorboard. Then into the bathroom. Toothbrush, deodorant, even his shampoo. Doubles back into his room to grab a bracelet off his nightstand; one El made him.
He looks around, grabs the nail bat, and makes his way downstairs. His mother gasps when she sees him. “What on earth is that?”
He looks at the bat. Adjusts his grip, twirls it around. “An NDA.”
The doorbell rings. Steve grabs his bags and moves towards it. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never walk back in.”
“Fine by me,” Steve says. He grabs his keys, tosses the house key at his father, and pockets the rest.
He opens the door and grins at Eddie, who’s looking at him worriedly. “Hey, Eds. Ready to go?”
Eddie blinks. “Um. Sure? Are you okay?”
“Sure,” Steve shrugs. “I’m getting kicked out. If you don’t want to take me I’ll just go bug Robin. It’ll only be for a little while, though, just until I find a better job and an apartment or something.”
“Like hell Wayne’s gonna miss this chance,” Eddie grins. “You know you’re his favorite.”
Steve smiles back, tosses his things into the back of Eddie’s van. “I hoped you were gonna say that.”
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#idk if it’s clear or not but Steve and Eddie ARE dating in this one!!#getting kicked out#Steve Harrington has shit parents#hopefully this isn’t terrible ig#starambles
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Chapter 20 - Backstreet's Back - All Right!
Why this sat in the drafts for so long, I do not know so I apologize to everyone! I've been super busy with college and haven't had time to write much...but here we are
Today was an ABSOLUTE fever dream and we all need a little somethin somethin. So I present to you - the backstreet boys (formula 1 edition)
RACES SKIPPED ARE CANADA AND SPAIN (side note - Arthur hasn't been able to be at a race since Monaco)
Haven't been able to say this in a while but I hope you enjoy! Remember that comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!! Love you all :D
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
You had gotten to the paddock super early once again. But that was only because Lando and Oscar has asked you to hang out, and you’d never skip out on some good times with your papaya friends. Andrea loved you and often let you sit in his office if you were bored. Actually, all of the team principals seemed to do that.
Even Toto, which was weird considering you stole on of his driver’s car with his other driver.
Like always, you found yourself killing some time by playing Subway Surfers. You were about to get a new high score when two shadows covered your screen, making your character get arrested.
“Hey, you made me lose my score!”
You were about to tear them a new one, but your face had a shocked look once you finally pointed your head up.
“What the f-!”
“Has anyone seen the kid?” was a question that Max did not imagine that he’d hear first thing in the morning when he arrived on Sunday.
His eyes glanced to the corner that you were almost always in, listening to music. But, the corner was void of any rookie teammate. He looked toward Christian, who asked the initial question.
“Have you checked her driver’s room?”
The Brit sighed, “We checked her room, your room, hospitality, and even the Ferrari garage, Williams garage, and McLaren garage. No one has seen her, yet the log says that she’s already here because she tapped in at the entrance.”
Well, Max was stumped. And he knew why Christian was wanting to see you. They were finally in the Red Bull Ring, the home race for the entire team. It was a big deal, and Christian didn’t want you to get overwhelmed. There was a lot on their shoulders. Charles had pole, but Max was right behind him. Charles was always strong in the Red Bull Ring, almost winning in 2019 and then winning in 2022. The Ferraris had done well the last two races, and you two needed to hold them off. Thankfully, you were right behind Max in P3, but Carlos was behind you in P4. A Ferrari sandwich if you will.
Everyone was kind of counting on the both of you for a Red Bull 1-2.
“Have you seen Vito or Mitch?”
“We’re right here.”
The Dutchman turned around to see your race engineer and manager, but you were nowhere to be found. He opened his mouth to say something but Vito held out a hand.
“Yes, we’ve already tried to call her and Arthur. Both phones went to voicemail.”
“Oh god.” Max shivered. If you weren’t picking up, and your boyfriend wasn’t picking up. Well, he didn’t want to imagine what you were up to. Just as he was about to suggest looking in the garages again, Lando popped his head in.
“Have any of you seen Bug? She was supposed to meet up with me and Oscar earlier and she never showed up!” the curly-haired Brit whined.
Now, that had Max even more worried. You never skipped hanging out with your favorite Brit (after Christian) or Aussie. Before he was about to start getting a search party together, Mitch suddenly made a weird face.
“Do any of you hear that?”
The five went silent to try to hear whatever Mitch had heard.
Lando’s face scrunched. “Sounds like the Backstreet Boys?”
The group quickly walked over to the opening and didn’t know whether to be relived or just upright confused.
Because there you were, holding a giant boombox (God only knows where you got that) with sunglasses on, with Arthur to your right and one Ollie Bearman to your left. The soundtrack was indeed Backstreet Boys, namely the 1997 hit song “Everybody.”
As Max learned at Vegas, you definitely knew how to make an entrance. By now, most of the drivers had walked out of their garages to see the commotion.
And much to Max’s surprise, Nico Rosberg, Mark Webber, and Jensen Button walked up to the three of you, giant smiles on their faces. The song had ended a bit ago, and you handed the now silent boombox back to the German. The Australian of the group gave both Ollie and Arthur pretty big hugs.
“Well, Oscar lost his grid dad,” Lando said, earning a hit from said Aussie.
“Hey! He was never my grid dad in the first place.”
The now group of six made their way to the giant group of drivers, including but not limited to: Max, Lando, Charles, Carlos, Logan, Lewis, George, and Oscar (in no particular order). Arthur’s hand was behind your back as you enthusiastically talked to the very tall British brunet dressed in Ferrari red.
“I cannot believe that you come here, apparently to see me, and say that you need to be in the Ferrari garage! Arthur’s even going to be in the Red Bull one!” they heard you whine as the group got closer.
Ollie rolled his eyes. “That’s only because he’s your boy-oof. You did NOT have to hit me.” He glared down at you as he rubbed his side.
“Yes I did.” Your arms crossed as you finally stopped in front of the giant group, who were all staring at you. “Hey guys, what’s up?”
Lando mirrored your stance, even popping his hip out. “What’s up?” he jokingly mocking. “We were supposed to go to breakfast?” He pointed between him and Oscar.
A look of realization glossed over your face as you looked at the papaya drivers.
“Oooohhhh, yeah. Sorry. Uh, their fault?” You pointed at Ollie and Arthur, who both looked betrayed.
“Our fault?” Ollie squawked. “You were the one who dragged us to breakfast!”
“You had breakfast?”
“Yes Lando, I had breakfast.”
The younger Monegasque silenced you. “The big boys are talking. And then you dragged us to find Nico because you thought he had a boombox.”
“The big boys? Seriously Thur? I can take you any day.” You glared up at him.
“Oh yeah?” He cocked an eyebrow and smirked down at you, getting in your face to really show the height difference.
That’s it.
You suddenly jumped on him, bring him to the floor. The Max and Charles jumped into action, trying to get you separated. Ollie just watched with a giant grin on his face, laughing at the two of you.
“Ollie, kindly shut up?”
“Yes mom.”
The two of you were separated quickly, because you really didn’t have much malice toward your boyfriend.
“I totally won.”
“Kid, you lost horribly.”
“Max, has anyone ever told you that you don’t have to say everything that comes to your mind?”
Charles, Lewis, Lando, Oscar, Logan, and George all nodded in agreement while Max stared at them with wide eyes.
“You all agree?!”
“Can I have my drivers back please?!” Christian suddenly yelled, making everyone look at him.
“Please take her. She’s rabid.” Arthur pushed you forward, making you take a swing at him (that he was ready for and dodged rather easily).
You stuck your tongue out at him, before giving Ollie a hug and gently guiding him to Charles.
Your finger pointed at the red-clad driver. “Take care of my son please, even if you are the enemy. He likes his sandwiches without the crust and needs a nap with his blanket in 5 hours.”
“Gosse?”
“Aw you brought my blanket?”
Ollie’s face flushed red as he realized everyone’s eyes were on him. Charles just looked worried as though someone just handed him an actual child and told him “good luck.”
You turned to follow your team principal, who was muttering something about you giving him even more gray hairs every weekend. “By Ollie! Have fun!”
The parade went by smoothly. You laughed a lot when Nico brought the boombox to the interviews. He had a lot of questions for you and Max, since it was the team race today, which made your anxiety skyrocket just a bit.
You and Arthur were able to have just a few minutes of alone time back in your driver’s room.
Because this was a surprise race, Arthur didn’t have to work or be with his brother. So, he was all yours for the entirety of Sunday. However, your excitement didn’t last long as he told you that he had to go back to Switzerland for more testing right after.
You sighed as you pressed your head against his chest, his arms around you. “If I had known that you’d be gone so much, I wouldn’t have called Seb and just have kept you as my WAG.”
Arthur sadly smiled down at you. “I know chéri, but I like testing. It gives me a purpose.”
Another sigh escaped your lips as you finally met his gaze. He cooed as he saw tears forming in your eyes.
“What is wrong mon fille jolie?”
You let a few tears escape, but they didn’t get very far as Arthur wiped them off as quickly as they fell.
“I just miss you and I miss home,” you confessed, hiding your face in his neck as you stepped closer. Arthur gently brought you over to the couch and readjusted you so that you were just lying on his front.
His hands gently ran through your hair. He knew you needed to be in the car soon, but he wouldn’t let you go without trying to console you.
You continued, “And I know that we just had summer break not too long ago, but it wasn’t enough.”
Arthur just listened, know you needed to spill to feel better.
“Everyone is counting on me to bring in a 1-2 since it’s the home race. But the last two races weren’t the best. I barely got any points.” You muttered the last part, “I’m never going to win a race by now.”
“Hey, none of that.” Arthur lifted your face so that you could look in his eyes. His were filled with determination. “Do you know how amazing you are? You podiumed at your first race and are fourth in the championship. As a rookie! You are incredible. Parfois j’aimerais que tu te voies comme je te vois.” (translation: Sometimes I wish you saw yourself as I see you.)
You huffed. “I still can’t understand you, but I’m hoping that was a compliment.”
“It was.”
He moved his head down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. At the contact, a sigh expelled from your nose.
It felt so good to be so loved.
If someone was to write a poem, about how Arthur looked at you and how you looked at Arthur, their pens would be void of ink and the stars would be shadowed by their words.
The two of you were so lost in each other that a knock at the door scared you both and ended up with you on the floor.
Mitch poked her head in before shaking it slightly.
“I don’t even want to know what you were up to, but Y/n needs to get in the car.”
You quickly stood, with Arthur’s help, and grabbed your helmet, making your way back into the garage. Like clockwork, the Monegasque took your headpiece and gently made sure that it was safely secure. And, with a kiss on the “forehead,” he sent you off. He could tell that you didn’t really want to get in the car. Which was understandable. It wasn’t very often that Arthur saw you not want to drive. But he knew that you were going to be amazing today.
Starting Grid:
Charles Leclerc
Max Verstappen
Y/n L/n
Carlos Sainz
Oscar Piastri
Pierre Gasly
Daniel Ricciardo
Lewis Hamilton
Yuki Tsunoda
Alex Albon
Lando Norris
Logan Sargeant
Valtteri Bottas
Fernando Alonso
George Russell
Lance Stroll
Zhou Guanyu
Kevin Magnussen
Esteban Ocon
Nico Hulkenberg
You rolled your tires as you waited for the lights to go out. They were tense, but that helped you be ready to press the accelerator. If you weren’t tense, you knew there’d be something wrong. If you felt high-strung outside of the car, inside was 10 times worse.
All the pressure, all the doubts, all the hopes and dreams – were on your shoulders.
And you weren’t going to let them down.
“And it’s lights out and away we go for the 2024 Austrian Grand Prix! Charles Leclerc has a strong start in the initial few seconds, but Max Verstappen seems to be on a mission to turn this into a win. Verstappen gets down the inside and pushes Leclerc a bit wide to gain a position on the pole sitter. We both know that he will probably start to bolt in just a few corners.
“His rookie teammate Y/n L/n seems to also have the upper hand against the other Ferrari of Carlos Sainz as she seems to do what she does best – go around the outside on that initial turn 1 and somehow make it out in front.
“Now the track is a bit rainy, and we saw what happened the last time that happened, so we’ll keep an eye on our Red Bull number 2.”
You felt water droplets fall into your visor as you were picking up speed on the Ferrari in front of you. You knew that this “dirty air” would be much worse than regular, since it was contaminated with water as well.
You pressed your radio button when it seemed almost impossible to catch up to the red car. The rain had also stopped so your intermediates were getting dangerous to drive with.
“Mitch what is the plan because I cannot catch up to Leclerc in these conditions.”
“Do you think you can go the rest of the way in mediums?”
You thought for a moment. You couldn’t go the rest of the way on softs, as they would degrade too quickly. And hards took forever to warm up.
“Yeah. I can do that.”
“Then box ahead of Max. You’ll come out right behind him. So, he’ll give you a tow and then when he boxes, you’ll do the same. Max has priority.”
“Copy.”
You quickly pitted the next lap. The Red Bull team seemed to be on fire as you were in and out in a few seconds. You didn’t know, but they somehow set the record for a new pit stop – 1.789 seconds.
The crowd got excited as you suddenly appeared behind Max and in front of the number sixteen car.
With Max in front of you, the tow was very helpful as you started to build bigger gap. You guessed that Ferrari must have messed up Charles’s pit stop as Lando’s papaya car was now behind you, instead of Charles.
You felt bad, but that’s on his team.
However, Lando was on much fresher tyres that you were, and he was gaining in the last ten laps of the race. You really tried to not let him overtake, but he did…with five laps to go.
Mitch suddenly came over the radio. “Don’t push it like last time. We don’t need another Suzuka. Third place will be just fine.”
But you weren’t having any of that. You never responded and just kept at the pace you were going, trying to get the maximum out of the car.
You hadn’t noticed, but everyone else in the garages could see that you were surprisingly gaining on Lando. Ollie watched as you were making qualifying times per lap. The crew was holding on to each other, cheering you on. With each tenth gained, the noise grew louder.
You saw the last lap flag, and you knew you had to keep your elbows out.
“And we are coming up on the last lap and L/n has somehow made it back into Norris’s DRS. She tried to get around the outside on the first turn, but is not successful. Yet, she’s keeping herself well in the DRS and doesn’t make try to make a move on the straights.
“Here comes the last real corner of the circuit and only a small straight for an overtake.
“SHE’S GOING FOR IT!
“IT’S A PHOTO FINISH…DO WE HAVE RESULTS?”
You slowed down your car as you drove around for the cool down lap. Your finger was jamming the radio button.
“Do we have it!?”
Arthur was biting his fingernails as everyone in the garage was waiting for the results. The mechanics were happy with another P1 finish from Max, but they were on baited breath to see if you had almost done the impossible and finished in a 1-2 sequence. A steward walked over to the pit wall and gave Christian the paper with the results.
A giant smile crossed his face as he was the one to give you the news.
“Congrats kid. It’s a 1-2 finish.”
Race Results
Max Verstappen – 25 points
Y/n L/n – 18 points
Lando Norris – 15 points
Charles Leclerc – 12 points
Carlos Sainz – 11 points
Pierre Gasly + fastest lap – 9 points
Oscar Piastri – 6 points
Lewis Hamilton – 4 points
Yuki Tsunoda – 2 points
Alex Albon – 1 point
Logan Sargeant
George Russell
Lance Stroll
Fernando Alonso
Nico Hulkenberg
Valtteri Bottas
Esteban Ocon
Kevin Magnussen
Zhou Guanyu
Daniel Ricciardo
Champions Standings
Max Verstappen – 244 points
Charles Leclerc – 201 points
Y/n L/n – 124 points
Lando Norris – 115 points
Carlos Sainz – 91 points
Lewis Hamilton – 70 points
Oscar Piastri – 68 points
Alex Albon – 39 points
George Russell – 36 points
Fernando Alonso – 35 points
Logan Sargeant – 29 points
Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points
Lance Stroll – 15 points
Pierre Gasly – 12 points
Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points
Nico Hulkenberg
Kevin Magnussen
Zhou Guanyu
Valtteri Bottas
Esteban Ocon
Constructors Standings
Red Bull – 383 points
Ferrari – 292 points
McLaren – 194 points
Mercedes – 106 points
Aston Martin – 50 points
Williams – 41 points
Alpha Tauri – 31 points
Alpine – 12 points
Alpha Romeo
Haas
“OH YEAH BABY. LET’S GO!” you yelled over your radio. The crew in the garage stood up from their seats and began to hug each other.
“Oh man, that was, wow! Can’t believe that. Great job everyone. Is this what winning feels like?” you asked as you took the cooldown lap, yet there was no answer. Everyone was too busy watching that final overtake and celebrating about it.
Arthur just watched your car take a lap on the screen. He softly whispered, “I knew you could do it.” The love in his eyes could have poured out if love was a physical thing.
Mitch came over the radio as you were beginning to pull in. “And congrats kid. You have surpassed Lewis Hamilton’s rookie point record.”
“LET’S GO! THAT'S THE SHIT!”
“You really need to stop hanging out with Max all the time. He’s teaching you bad words.”
You smirked under your helmet. “I’m a girl whose friends are dominantly male. Mitch you even curse over the radio.”
Max almost didn’t want to look at whatever car was in the second place spot. He knew you’d be devastated if you weren’t there. Last he knew, Lando was behind him with you on his tail. It was your helmet that caught his attention. His body turned to see you standing on your car in the P2 spot.
His heart dropped, but in a good way. He watched you jump off and jump into the arms of the crew. Head pats were definitely deserved as you tried to touch as much of the team as possible. He laughed when you purposefully hung off the banner, just to get closer to the crew who were a bit further back.
He watched you and Mitch hold out your arms (kind of like Lando and Carlos at the Singapore Grand Prix), mirror each other, and then hug it out. He swears he saw the older lady wipe away a few tears.
Next was Christian, who gave you a big hug as Max finally made his way to the wall of crew. It was his turn for hugs, high-fives, and helmet pats.
You had just gotten to Arthur, who held onto you a bit longer than everyone else.
Just for the two of you, he whispered, “If you didn’t have you helmet on, I’d kiss you right here in front of all these people.”
Your cheeks were bright red under the helmet.
Ollie, who had been able to escape from the prancing horse, had also come to congratulate you. His hug was a tag shorter than Arthur’s, but you knew he did it to make your previous hug not look as suspicious.
You had been on the podium time and time before, but this felt different. You don’t know if it was the adrenaline, the sun, or the happiness that ran through you veins that made the trophy a bit lighter or the bubbly a bit sweeter: maybe it was all three.
You were still hungry for a win, starving, but this was just the snack to tide you over.
Down below, Arthur and Ollie had somehow gotten a hand on the boombox once again. You could barely hear it on the podium, but you had a guess. Suddenly, the music screeched to a halt, making everyone confused. You watched as your two boys had a knowing smirk on their faces. The same smirk slowly crept on your face as well.
You turned to Max and Lando, who looked equally confused. You held your trophy to your lips, as though it were a microphone. You pointed at the two men, and lip-synced the words.
“BACKSTREET’S BACK - ALL RIGHT!”
redbullracing has posted
redbullracing 1-2 in the house! The Red Bull Ring was shining as our drivers carried home two new trophies! Congrats to y/n.89 for her first record as she surpasses Lewis Hamilton's rookie points with 124 points total!
liked by y/n.89, maxverstappen, lewishamilton, and 4,203,893 others
y/n.nation THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT
y/n_on_top that fight for the win will go in the history books mark my words
landonorris please tell your drivers to slow down so the rest of us can have a chance
charles_leclerc I second this y/n.89 idk, you all just sound like misogynists here... maxverstappen1 what she said
lewishamilton I knew someone would have to beat it. congrats kid
y/n.89 thank you Lew! (someone should take notes ahem landonorris) landonorris sure bug, sure
redbullfan 1-2! 1-2! 1-2!
y/n.lover she is legit currently in p3 for the constructor's championship...what do they feed her?
y/n.89 the tears of my enemies (Charles cries a lot) charles_leclerc HEY redbullracing lots of energy drinks and protein!
arthurxy/n Arthur back in the rb garage - too bad ollie couldn't join them
y/n.89 has posted
y/n.89 my boys are BACK
liked by y/n.nation, boxbox_express, change_ur_f-car, and 85,395 others
y/n&co God I've seen what you've done for others
rookiefan I kinda feel bad for her boyfriend...but at the same time Arthur is more than happy to show her off (her bf needs to take notes!!)
olliebearman MOM ON PODIUM
y/n.89 did you have a nice nap? olliebearman yes until charles_leclerc forgot my blanket y/n.89 when I find you charles_leclerc arthur_leclerc Charles you better run charles_leclerc HE'S 18?? WHY DOES HE STILL NEED A BLANKET AND NAP y/n.89 you're 26???? why do you still need to call my teammate goodnight? lestappenlove and I OOP
prema_y/n anywayyyyy the second pic is hilarious
Arthur.nation thur is glowing, wonder if he has a gf??
arthurgirly4life I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE
boxbox_express the trio no one knew we needed, but the trio that we deserve
arthur_leclerc has posted
arthur_leclerc a driver, a reserve driver, and an endurance driver walk into a bar...
liked by thurthur, ferrari_fanfest, porsche, and 102,284 others
arthur4porsche this makes no sense but it's hysterical??
y/n.89 ollie actually smacked his head on the bar
olliebearman YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TELL - DAD, MOM IS MAKING FUN OF ME AGAIN arthur_leclerc it was funny? olliebearman grandpa? charles_leclerc yes? olliebearman not you, you forgot my blanket. the better one maxverstappen1 take that Charles
arthur&crew if max and Charles are grandpa...does that make Christian great-grandpa??
christianhorner sadly yes y/n.89 SADLY?? YOU MADE HIM CRYYYY charles_leclerc w o w , could never at Ferrari y/n.89 Charlie, you cried yesterday
redbullracing maybe the driver should become our photographer?
olliebearman has posted
olliebearman why is it that when we're together, we're always eating??
liked by ferrari, y/n.89, logansargeant, and 83,294 others
olliebear WHAT ARE THESE PICTURES I'M DYING
arthur_leclerc blocked and reported for that last picture
olliebearman why? trying to look good for someone?? arthur_leclerc say goodbye to the blanket olliebearman too late, your brother lost it :( arthur.nation HELLO??
y/n.89 I look sexy
olliebearman your boyfriend sure thinks so :D y/n.89 what Arthur said, blocked and reported
prematrio what are these comments??
y/n&co shhhhh just let them
oscarpiastri guess the invites got lost in the mail??
landonorris same here... y/n.89 you weren't in prema? kimi.antonelli thanks for the food mom! olliebearman brother? maxverstappen1 here we go again
change_ur_f-car what a time to be alive
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THE BOY IS MINE. (PART 2)
pairing: Prohero!Bakugo x Prohero!Reader
rating: slight angst, hurt/comfort, reader needs a break tbh
note: I forgot where I was originally going with this story when I wrote this a few years ago since part 2 was only 70% done in my drafts, hope this was a good read ! it was fun writing dialogue for Hitomi, might bring her back for a new series🤐
part 1
You don't know when it happened, but somehow, your very existence seemed to aggravate Hitomi, for reasons you couldn’t understand. Your coworkers noticed it, even your assistant made a passing comment, but they urged you not to take it personally. Still, the cold stares, the subtle digs, and the way she tried to one-up you at every turn, it all started to wear on you. What you didn’t know was that her attitude stemmed from the time she spent in one-on-one training sessions with Bakugo.
The list of things Bakugo is good at is so long it would be stupid to write about, so it was obvious that he would be the perfect mentor. His sharp eyes caught every mistake, his feedback was brutally honest, and his results were undeniable. Hitomi knew this and respected him for it. But there was something else that ate away at her during those sessions, something that made her resentment towards you grow stronger with each passing day.
It started with the small comments Bakugo would make, things he probably didn’t even realize he was saying out loud. “Y/N always nails this move on the first try,” he muttered once, when Hitomi fumbled during a drill. Or, “You’re gripping too tight—Y/N knows how to balance strength with control.” At first, Hitomi tried to brush it off, telling herself that Bakugo was just using you as an example to push her to do better, after all you were in the top rankings of Japan for a reason. But the more it happened, the more it grated on her. It wasn't just that you were good—it was that you seemed to be the benchmark against which she was measured.
The worst part, the part that truly made her snap, came during a routine training session. Hitomi was testing the mobility of her suit after some recent upgrades, moving through the drills with the precision she had honed under Bakugo’s guidance. He observed her as usual, his sharp eyes catching every nuance, every mistake.
But then, as she finished a complex maneuver, he made a comment that made her blood run cold. “You’ve got the power, but you’re hesitating,” Bakugo remarked, his tone almost distracted. “They would’ve read that shift in a heartbeat, made the move smoother.” he continued under his breath.
He didn’t even look at her when he said it. The reference was subtle, but Hitomi knew exactly who he meant. He talked about you enough for her to pick up on the unspoken comparison.
It wasn’t just that he compared her to you; it was that, in his mind, you were the standard she could never reach. The unattainable.
In that moment, it solidified for Hitomi: no matter how hard she trained, no matter how perfectly she executed every move, she would always be second to you in his eyes. His words echoed in her head, taunting her, and she knew then that she wasn’t just competing with a fellow hero. She was battling against the idealized version of you that Bakugo seemed to hold onto, an impossible shadow she could never escape.
It wasn’t rare for Dynamight to be paired with lower-ranking heroes on missions or patrols, but you happened to be his frequent partner. You weren’t sure if it was because your quirks worked well together or because you could read each other in any situation. Little did you know, Bakugo’s unconscious behavior around you was something even his assistant had picked up on. He didn’t lose his temper as easily when you were around, and on the rare occasions he did, it was never directed at you. He even made subtle nods at reporters before blasting off with you by his side. Almost every mission you collaborated on ended successfully, a fact that wasn’t lost on the agency.
Hitomi had noticed, too. She watched the way Bakugo seemed more grounded when you were around, how he sometimes deferred to your judgment without argument, and how he never seemed to mind your presence. That’s what made her resentment so sharp—it was one thing to compete with you in training, but another thing entirely to see that you were already a fixture in the life of the hero she admired—the man she wanted.
Your first mistake, if you could even call it that, was during a debriefing session. Hitomi had suggested a strategy, one that was sound but flawed in a way only experience could detect. You pointed it out, offering a correction in a calm, professional manner. It wasn’t meant to be demeaning, but to Hitomi, it felt like a public embarrassment. And Bakugo, instead of defending her, nodded in agreement with you, reinforcing the gap between her and you in his mind.
Another time, in the break room, she overheard a conversation where Bakugo was praising your tactical instincts. He never did that for anyone else, not even her—the one he had personally trained to analyze and fight just like him. She had been mentored by the best, molded to think and act with the same precision and intensity that Bakugo himself embodied. So, it came as a shock when she realized that everything she did, using everything she had learned from him, wasn’t good enough to hold his attention.
From then on, every interaction with you became a painful reminder that you held a place in Bakugo’s life that she couldn’t touch. So, she decided to carve out her own space, to prove that she could be the one who stood by his side.
The tension between you two only grew, feeding off these moments until it became a palpable force within the agency. And as much as you tried to stay above it, to focus on your work and ignore the subtle hostility, it was impossible not to notice. The whispers of office gossip, the way Hitomi would shoot you a look whenever Bakugo acknowledged you in a meeting—it all added up, and it all pointed to the truth you were too kind to see: Hitomi wasn’t just competing with you. She wanted to take everything you had, including Bakugo.
Hitomi’s resentment towards you was not something she could easily suppress. It wasn’t just about competition; it was personal. And when she realized that Bakugo saw you as a benchmark she could never reach, it drove her to desperate measures. If she couldn’t directly compete with you on the field, she would try to outmaneuver you in the court of public opinion.
So she set up a rumor to shift the narrative. It began subtly, with carefully orchestrated moments designed to seed the idea in the media. She made sure to be seen with Bakugo frequently, arranging coincidental encounters that were just intimate enough to spark curiosity. It was all carefully planned to catch the eye of the paparazzi.
The crucial moment came when Hitomi arranged for an image to be captured. A staged photo, one that would make it look like she and Bakugo were involved in a romantic relationship. The key was using a lookalike, someone who bore a striking resemblance to Bakugo, someone subtle enough to create a convincing illusion without risking his actual reputation.
The resulting photo, taken from a distance, showed Bakugo— or allegedly Bakugo—with his arm around Hitomi’s shoulders.
She meticulously chose the location of Bakugo’s favorite konbini, a spot he frequented to fuel up between patrols. This particular konbini was a well-kept secret among a few close friends and had become a sort of personal refuge for him. By selecting this location, Hitomi aimed to make a statement—a pointed message aimed directly at you.
The magazine’s social media team spread the image far and wide, igniting a storm of speculation and gossip. Fans and media alike began buzzing about the potential romance, analyzing every interaction between Bakugo and Hitomi for signs of affection. The craze was relentless, and soon, it became a trending topic. Headlines everywhere echoed the same speculation, and Hitomi basked in the growing buzz.
It was a clever ploy. With Bakugo’s name and your connection to him constantly in the limelight, it created a smokescreen that obscured the truth and shifted public perception. By the time you and Bakugo were confronted with the rumor, it had already gained enough traction to cause serious damage. Hitomi had successfully planted the seeds of doubt, making it seem like she was the one who had captured Bakugo’s attention.
Hitomi’s actions were not just about rivalry. She was trying to erase your presence and position herself as the ideal partner, hoping that by winning over those around Bakugo and creating a convincing narrative, she could finally gain what she felt she deserved.
Hitomi’s plan was working, and you were now caught in the crossfire of a fight you hadn’t even realized you were part of. And that’s where it all began to unravel.
After your checkup at the agency’s infirmary, the reality of your situation set in. The injury was severe enough that your boss decided to put you on desk duty until you were fully recovered. It was frustrating, but you had little choice but to comply.
Today, you found yourself seated at your desk, sifting through paperwork and mission reports. The mundane tasks offered a welcome distraction from your physical pain, but it did little to quell the storm of emotions that raged within you.
The agency’s hallways bustled with activity, heroes and sidekicks moving about in their usual hurried fashion. You were doing your best to stay out of everyone’s way, trying to blend into the background. You were engrossed in organizing a stack of reports when there was a knock on your door.
“Come in,” you called, not looking up.
“Hey, Y/N!” The cheery, singsong voice of Hitomi reached your ears, and you tensed. You had hoped to avoid any direct communication with her, but it seemed luck wasn’t on your side today.
You looked up slowly, forcing a neutral expression onto your face as she approached you with a case file under one arm and a newspaper clutched in her hand. Her gaze flicked over to you with an expression that was anything but friendly.
“How can I help you?,” you said curtly, not in the mood for small talk.
“I thought you might want to see this,” she said, her tone dripping with false sweetness. She tossed the newspaper onto your desk and placed the case file beside it.
Looking down, your heart sank as you read the newspaper’s headline: “ANOTHER HERO BITES THE DUST! PRO HERO Y/H/N CAN’T HANDLE THE HEAT!” The article was filled with damning criticisms and snide remarks, painting you in a poor light due to your mess up.
Hitomi smirked as she noticed your reaction. “You know how it is. The media loves to stir up drama. Thought you’d appreciate the heads-up.” She gave you a patronizing wave and turned to leave.
The moment she was gone, you let out a heavy sigh, grabbing the newspaper and crumpling it in your hands. With a grimace, you tossed it into the trash can, trying to ignore the sting of humiliation that the article left behind.
It had been a week since the billboard incident, and despite your best efforts to avoid Bakugo, it was inevitable that you would cross paths eventually. You had spent those days focusing on your hero work, throwing yourself into your duties with an intensity that left you exhausted by the end of each day. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the heavy weight in your chest.
Boring days of recovery were soon over. The bandages were finally coming off, and you were able to inspect your hero suit in preparation for your first patrol since the incident. The repairs were almost complete, and you hoped that getting back to work would help distract you from the recent turmoil.
As you were adjusting your suit in the testing room, you heard the door swing open. Hitomi walked in with her repaired support gear, her humming coming to a halt at the sight of you.
“Hey Y/N!” She greeted
You nodded in greeting, quickly attaching the support items to your suit to avoid a conversation.
She didn’t seem to notice your lack of enthusiasm. “I saw you around the other day but didn’t get a chance to chat. You’ve been working hard, haven’t you?” Her tone was laced with false sweetness, and you could sense the underlying hostility.
“Paperwork kept me busy,” you replied, adjusting the straps to your suit . You really didn’t want to have this conversation.
Her smile widened, as she took a step closer. “Well, you know how it is around here. There’s always something to keep us busy,” she said, her tone light. “I guess it’s why they say people like us need someone who understands the grind, right? Someone who gets how demanding this work can be.”
You felt a subtle tension in her words, but you weren’t sure where she was going with this. “Yeah, it’s a tough job.”
Hitomi’s eyes flickered with a hint of something more as she leaned in slightly. “Exactly. That’s why it’s so important to have someone who can keep up, someone who’s… on the same level. Makes things easier, don’t you think?”
There was an undercurrent to her words that you couldn’t ignore, but you weren’t ready to engage with it. “I suppose,” you replied cautiously.
She tilted her head, her smile never wavering. “Like Bakugo, for instance. He really needs someone who understands him, someone who’s in sync with him. It’s funny how the media picks up on these things.”
Your chest tightened, the implication of her words hitting you like a ton of bricks. “The media?” you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral.
“Oh, you know how they are,” she said with a casual shrug. “Always speculating about who’s with who, who’s spending time together… Sometimes they’re not too far off, though.” She chuckled softly, but there was a sharp edge to the sound. “But I guess that’s just part of being in the spotlight.”
You raised a brow at her words as she continued.
“You know—people talk. They notice who spends time together, who seems… close. But anyway, it’s a shame you’ve been avoiding Bakugo. But I guess it’s for the best.”
Realizing what she was insinuating, you could feel the tension building in your chest. “What are you getting at, Hitomi?”
She maintained that infuriatingly casual tone. “Oh, nothing specific. Just making an observation. But…let’s be real, Y/N. You were never really in the running, were you?”
You bit down on your tongue, recalling the lessons from your time as a sidekick at Endeavor's agency. Back then, you were trained to handle criticism and bounce back quickly. Being a hero meant facing harsh judgment from reporters and the press, and you had learned to develop a thick skin. You’d been through the wringer as a rookie, chewed up and spit out, and had come out stronger for it. Hitomi wasn’t the first to try and get under your skin, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last. Your resolve was solid, and you weren’t about to let her words shake you now.
Seeing that you had no reaction, she pressed on, her tone turning more aggressive. “Honestly, I’m surprised you’re even still around here. I mean, after that slip-up the other night, it’s a miracle you didn’t get yourself killed. Maybe you should stick to the sidelines and let the real heroes do the work.”
Something inside you snapped. The pain and frustration that had been building up for days suddenly burst free, and you opened your mouth to retort—but before you could say a word, a familiar voice cut through the air, sharp and angry.
“What the hell did you just say?”
You both turned to see Bakugo standing a few feet away, his crimson eyes narrowed dangerously as he glared at the sidekick. His presence was like a storm cloud rolling in, the atmosphere around him crackling with barely contained fury.
The sidekick’s confident demeanor faltered, her eyes widening in surprise and a hint of fear. “D-Dynamight! I was just—”
“You were just what?” Bakugo interrupted, stepping closer. “Talking shit to Y/H/N? Your superior?”
She stammered, clearly panicking. “I-I wasn’t… I didn’t mean—”
Bakugo’s expression darkened, his voice low and deadly calm. “You should know better than to run your mouth about things you don’t understand.”
The sidekick’s eyes darted between you and Bakugo, realizing she was in serious trouble. “But—”
Bakugo spoke over her, his patience completely gone. “You’ve got some nerve, talking like you know a damn thing about me or Y/N.”
You were frozen in place, watching the scene unfold in disbelief. Even after avoiding him for so long and keeping your distance, Bakugo was defending you—unrelentingly—and it was clear that he wasn’t going to let Hitomi off the hook.
“You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass since you got here. Cause of what? All the delusional crap you read in a magazine? That ends now.”
The sidekick paled. “I’m sorry, Dynamight, I didn’t mean—”
“Save it. Now get the hell out of here.” he growled, not giving her a chance to finish.
You could hear when her heart broke, she glanced at you one last time, a look you read that you’ve won. Without another word, she bolted from the room, her confidence completely shattered. The moment she was gone, Bakugo turned his attention to you, his expression softening slightly, though the tension in his shoulders remained.
You stared at him, still reeling from what had just happened. “Bakugo, I—”
“Don’t,” he interrupted, his tone gentler than before. “Don’t apologize for her being a damn idiot.”
“I wasn’t going to apologize,” you said quietly. “I just… I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?” he asked, his brow furrowing.
You looked down at your feet, your voice barely above a whisper. “About the rumors… I thought it was true.”
Bakugo let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Of course you did. Those vultures love to stir up shit for clicks. None of it was true. I’m not dating her—or anyone.”
You felt lighter from his words but quickly pushed down the hope that tried to rise in your chest. “But why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t think I needed to,” he muttered, looking almost sheepish. “I told you before, I wasn’t interested in dating. And I figured you’d know I wouldn’t get involved in that kind of crap.”
You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of relief and lingering hurt. “I… I didn’t want to assume anything. And after what I saw… I guess I thought I had misread everything between us.”
Bakugo’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer, his hand resting on your shoulder. “You didn’t misread anything. I know what I said before—But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, dumbass.”
The warmth of his hand on your shoulder, the sincerity in his eyes—it was too much. Your resolve crumbled, and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “I thought you were just stringing me along.”
Bakugo’s heart ached at the sight of your tears, and without hesitation, he gently pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “’m sorry… I can be a total idiot sometimes, but I’d never screw with you on purpose.”
He rested his chin on your head. “So, don’t let that bullshit get to you.”
You buried your face in his chest, letting yourself relax into his embrace. “I missed you,” you mumbled into his hero suit, the words escaping before you could stop them.
He let out a soft huff, his hand moving to the back of your head, holding you close. The sound of his heart skipping a beat was unmistakable. “Missed you too, idiot. We’ll figure this out, okay? Just… don’t shut me out again.”
You nodded against his chest, feeling the weight that had been pressing down on you finally start to lift. “Okay.”
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “Look, I’m not great at this, but… I want to try. With you.”
Your breath hitched, hope flaring back to life in your chest. “Really?”
Bakugo nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah. We can take it slow, figure things out…but I’m not letting you walk away.”
A small smile tugged at your lips as you looked up at him. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Katsuki.”
He smiled, his dimples appearing at the sound of his first name rolling off your tongue, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Good.”
You leaned into him, feeling the last remnants of doubt melt away. As he pulled back, you felt his breath against your skin. His eyes flickered down to your lips, with an unspoken question hung in the air. Without overthinking it, you leaned up on your toes, closing the small distance between you.
Bakugo hesitated for the briefest of moments, then closed the gap, capturing your lips in a kiss that was tender. Everything he couldn’t say with words was poured into that kiss—every frustration, every ounce of care, every unresolved feeling that had been simmering between you for so long.
Your arms wrapped around his neck as you leaned into the kiss, the warmth of his embrace grounding you. His hands settled on your waist, pulling you closer as if he was afraid you might slip away. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in that moment.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other’s. His eyes were still half-lidded, a faint blush coloring his cheeks—a rare sight for him.
“Damn idiot,” he muttered softly, his voice laced with affection. “Should’ve kissed me sooner.”
You couldn’t help but smile, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. “Maybe I was waiting for you to make the first move.”
He huffed, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Guess I’ll have to make up for lost time, then.”
Before you could respond, he pulled you in for another kiss, this one deeper, more confident—like he was staking his claim. And you kissed him back with equal fervor, knowing that, this time, you weren’t going to let anything or anyone come between you.
When you finally broke apart, you stayed in his arms, content and more at ease than you had felt in weeks. The uncertainty that had plagued you was gone. And for now, that was more than enough.
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