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luvrxbunny · 5 months

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flower

pairing: bf!Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

summary: You won’t let Miggy play.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, sad feelings, clothed sex, cum in pants (lmk if I forgot anything)

wc: 2.2k

a/n: Gwen is 21 just for drinking purposes— everyone say thank u to @naeverse for giving me an alternative to google translate for the spanish!! ily bby!! 🫶🏾

Miguel is like your best artwork, in your opinion. The way you took the hard seed he was and watered, loved, cared and nurtured him so he could bloom into the flower he was today is one of your greatest achievements.

When you met him he was cold, closed off, and angry. It took months of breaking down his wall before he could even admit his feelings for you, it took even more, to get him to express his feelings for you. It was like luring a stray cat, slowly getting him closer, and more comfortable with you before pushing your physical feelings onto him. You coaxed him out of his cave of isolation, of touch deprivation, and showed him how it felt to have someone love on him.

You were so proud when he started coming to you for simple little things, like a kiss or a hug. You’d be working and he’d stride in, tall and confident just to ask you, shyly, for a kiss. For a long time you explained to him that he didn’t always need to ask you, you were okay with him just coming in and kissing you. You also had to explain to him that he’s allowed to ask for more than a hug or kiss, he was very resistant on that matter but you managed to break him.

One day he woke up in the middle of the night, you were asleep next to him and he needed you. He laid there for an hour, debating on whether he should wake you up or not. When he did wake you up, you couldn’t have been prouder. You made sure to let him know that as you rode him.

At first, he wouldn’t even hold your hand or hug you in public. He got comfortable with PDA much quicker than the others, it only took him a few weeks. He plunged himself into it head first.

He went from barely touching you to being all over you. He started sitting you in his lap, resting his arms over your hips while standing behind you, or laying his head on your stomach whenever you guys were chilling in the lounge.

He even got into the habit of running his fingers over your tummy, going under your shirt or dissipating your suit just to feel you. Or he’ll just grope you through your suit, it doesn’t alway seem sexual for him… more like he enjoys the closeness, the intimacy of touching you, holding you in places no one else can. For example; your boobs, your ass, and his most recent, most consistent obsession… your pussy.. just cupping, your clothed pussy.

He says it’s calming for him, most of the time he does it absently. The goal isn't to make you cum, or prep your for his cock. He just loves touching you. It made you unbelievably happy to see him like that, your secretly sweet boy, loving all over you, not caring who’s around. It was one of the best things to ever happen to you.

Which is what makes this current conversation so awkward.

Hobie is rambling on and on about how disgusting PDA is. Miguel isn't around, thank god. He went to get a drink and never came back. Hobie has been ranting about how inconsiderate, and inappropriate PDA is as you awkwardly sip on your drink, feeling oddly targeted. Jess and Gwen agree with him, saying that it’s not that serious but definitely annoying. You’re just wishing for them all to just stop before Miguel returns, terrified that he’ll retreat back into his shell. That you’ll loose your sweet flower.

“ ‘M jus sayin’ it’s not like they can’t wait ‘til they get ‘ome. I jus feel like… come off it, y’know? Like you’re in public, right? Jus... keep it in your pants.” You down your drink and decide to finally butt into the conversation.

“Hobie. I love you but you’re the same guy who doesn’t believe in consistency.” You earn a little chuckle from the table. “Get in a loving, serious, consistent relationship, and tell me you’ll never want to be affectionate outside your house.” The words spit from your mouth with more venom than intended but you stand your ground.

“Aye, I guess. But like, some people don’t know when to dial it back.” He laughs with Gwen as you get up to leave. Jess is sending you an apologetic look that you smile at briefly before turning to walk away. You’re stopped by a.. wall?

You open your eyes to see what you ran into and see Miguel smiling down at you. “Where are you going?” You smile back at him, genuinely, and tell him a half-truth. “I was looking for you! Where have you been?”

Miguel looks a little drunk, his face flushed, and his eyes hazy. You guys have been drinking but it usually takes more. He shrugs and sits in your seat, patting his leg for you to sit in his lap.

You start toward him but then Hobie’s words play in your head and you shake your head softly at him. He looks confused but nods at you and falls into the conversation, now talking about the latest mission.

You’re standing there considering Hobie’s words. If you imagine how you and Miguel act from an outsider's perspective… you can see why they’d find it annoying. Anxiety curls and makes a home in your chest as you flip through all your favorite memories of you and Miguel, all of them now tainted. You head over to the bar silently, needing another drink when you feel someone behind you.

You feel pressure on the top of your head and know it's Miguel, placing a kiss on your head, another recent habit of his. You do nothing, ignore it as he wraps his arms around your waist and leans into you. “Oh, Peter B. says Hello. He was here earlier for a bit. That’s what took me so long. He made me drink with him too. Puede que haya bebido mucho.”

(“I may have had too much to drink”)

A smile makes its way onto your face as you listen to him, his accent thicker with his intoxication. He’s leaning on you, not for support but just to feel you against him. You guys stand there in comfortable silence until you feel Miguel’s hand begin to slide from your hip to your pelvis, it slides underneath the band of your skirt and you stop him. “Not now, Miggy. Sorry.” Your drink arrives, you pay, and leave. Miguel follows behind you, slightly deflated by your rejection. Your mind is still on Hobie’s words.

Are we “too much”? Do we take it “too far”..? Maybe we should just dial it back a little...

You guys arrive back at the table and Miguel tries again. His hands come to your waist and quickly slide down, trying to get under your skirt. You don’t say anything, you keep talking to Gwen as you pull his hand out.

The night goes well from that point. Miguel makes more advances that are gently rejected or avoided by you. You all gradually get drunk as the night goes on, Miguel drinks a bit more than he usually would and recluses himself to a table next to where you guys are sitting. Jess leaves first, Gwen and Hobie following her not too long after.

You and Miguel decide to leave and Uber home in silence. He usually talks more after hanging out in a group, saying everything he thought but couldn't say, giving his rating on the interaction, and more. This time, however, he’s silent, looking out his window with furrowed brows the whole ride. The silence only breaks once you both are in the apartment and you speak up.

“Why are you so quiet tonight?” You’re staring at his back as he stands in the living room. He doesn’t answer you at first, he just stands there before sighing and turning around.

“Why won’t you let me play with you?” His voice is weaker than you’ve ever heard it, his eyes look sad and desperate and his hands are wringing each other. You’ve never seen him like this, nervous and unsure. It breaks your heart.

You rush over to him and wrap him in a hug. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted to that bad, baby.” You let him go and kiss his cheek. “I—“ You sigh defeatedly. “Hobie got in my head about PDA. I don’t know why I listen to him.” Miguel lets out a sigh of relief at your words, some of the tension leaving his body.

“That idiot? Yeah, no. Don’t listen to him, amor.” You smile at him and he kisses you softly. When you pull away he still has that nervous look in his eyes. “Do you wanna play with me now?” you ask gently. He nods so timidly that you regret ever rejecting him. You kiss him with a smile as he walks you backward, only stopping once your back hits the wall.

His breath is already speeding up, his chest heaving as his hand slowly slides up your skirt. The moment his fingers come in contact with your clothed pussy he groans out, louder than you. You’re shocked by his reaction as he keeps rubbing your clit, gasping, and moaning with you as if he was touching himself.

His mouth is open as moans tumble through his lips. He’s not looking at you, just watching his fingers move on your pussy. His eyebrows draw more inward the faster he moves his fingers, his moans turning into whines the faster he goes.

At some point, his fingers roll over your clit more perfectly than you can handle and your hips buck into his hands. His knees almost buckle at the sight as he lets out a deep, rumbling groan.

“Santa mierda.” His eyes roll back as he feels your wetness soak through your panties and dampen his fingers. He’s desperately hard in his pants and his hips are thrusting up into the air in time with his movements over your pussy. “Echaba mucho de menos esto, cariño”

(“Holy shit.”)

( “I missed this so much honey”)

You giggle at his apology. He tends to do this a lot when you have him extra worked up. He always feels bad because he knows you can't understand him but the truth is that when he gets you like this… Whining, moaning, and pressing into him.

He cannot function.

He can’t think about anything but breeding you, getting his fat cock into your soft pussy, and painting your cervix. He’s not worried about what language it happens in. His brain can’t focus on things like that, he’s tried.

Your hips thrust up into his hand as you grip his biceps, your nails digging in painfully, making him moan even louder. His fingers move against you perfectly, the Spanish falling from his lips pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your legs start to twitch and tense, your knees weakening as the burning in your stomach grows. Your hands come up around Miguel’s neck to pull him closer to you.

“You’re making me feel so good, Miggy. Fuck- I love you so much, baby.” He lifts you off your feet, pressing you up against the wall and lifting your legs over his waist. He takes a step forward and buries himself in your neck, his hips come forward, pressing his bulge against your mound with a groan. “Yeah, good. Good, Miggy- shi-it.” You feel his fangs slide out of his mouth and press into your skin as he whimpers. “Holy- Miguel, I- fuck, like that baby please.”

His whines turn to groans as he thrusts against you like he was actually fucking you. His hips swivel into yours, stuttering as he listens to your moans. “N-nena, estoy tan cerca. Maldita sea, te sientes tan jodidamente bien, mi amor. Siento que no puedo respirar. Mierda, te sientes increíble.”

(“B-baby, I'm so close. Damn, you feel so fucking good, my love. I feel like I can't breathe. Shit, you feel amazing.”)

You moan louder at his words, the way they roll off of his tongue. You can’t even describe how you feel when he speaks, especially in Spanish. It feels like his words vibrate through your ears, to your stomach, and settle in your core, winding you up as tightly as you can go. “Yeah? Oh, I’m gonna c-cum. Fuck- talk to me, Miggy. T-tell me how it feels, honey.”

Miguel can feel his eyes roll back into his head at your words. You know he can’t speak English right now, and he knows you love it anyway, the thought has him hurtling toward his orgasm. “Te sientes tan perfecta, nena. Voy a correrme tan fuerte por ti. ¿Lo quieres? ¿Quieres que te dé mi leche, miel? Te lo daré, todo por ti, nena. Mierda.”

(“You feel so perfect, baby. I'm gonna cum so hard for you. Do you want it? Do you want me to give you my milk honey? I'll give it to you, all for you, baby. Shit.")

Your legs crush his waist as you cum, trembling in his arms as his hips keep fucking against you, his moans growing in volume. You bring your hands up to dive into his hair, pulling at it, gripping it as he growls into your neck. He’s trying to hold off until you’re done, he wants to keep going, he wants to make you cum for so long that you can’t breathe but the way you’re grasping his brown locks makes it impossible. His muscles tense, his hands squeezing you into a bruising hold as his groans devolve back into whines, his body shaking as his cock explodes.

He cums so hard he thinks he blacks out for a moment. His cock pumps out rope after rope of his cum into his pants, he wishes it was inside you for a moment and he’s cumming harder at the thought. His hips continue to buck into you desperately as he moans out your name. You feel one of his hands leave your waist and rest on your cheek shakily, pushing your head in his direction and placing a kiss on your cheek. He grunts as he bucks against you one more time before putting you down.

You knees give out the moment you touch the ground and Miguel holds you up with a chuckle. “¿Qué? ¿No puedes soportarlo, cariño? ¿Tus piernas ya no funcionan?” He teases you as he carries you to the bedroom, your head rests on his chest, feeling the vibrations as he speaks.

(“What? You can't stand, honey? Your legs don't work anymore?”)

“You better hush up before I fuck you.” You spit back at him jokingly but you feel his pace falter at the threat.

“Uh, Qué... ¿Cuál es el dicho? Don’t threaten me with a good time?” He says in a teasing tone but his eyes are already clouding over again, desperate.

(“what... what's the saying?”)

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

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lnlightning81 · 18 days

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Family Friend [PG10]

Summary : You and Pierre had been dating for a while but the last thing you expected was to see a picture of you kissing on social media. Except that's not how your brother's found out it was him.

Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Leclerc!Reader

Warnings: Google Translate French

When you woke up that morning, the last thing you expected to see was a billion text messages from only three people. Charles, Arthur, and Lorenzo. Reading through the texts, they were all variations of

You looked down with Pierre’s arm tightly wrapped around your waist. You opened the Twitter well now X app to see millions of pictures of yourself kissing a guy -Pierre- explaining all the texts from your brothers. Your face dropped as you shook Pierre awake

‘When were you going to tell us?’

‘Who is that?’

‘What the hell Y/N’

“Amour? Qu’est-ce qui ne va pas?” (Love? What’s wrong?) He asked, voice deep and full of sleep

“We’ve been caught. There’s pictures of us kissing. My brother’s have already seen it” You panicked as he pulled you closer now more awake.

“Chérie. Take a deep breath.” (Darling) You copied his breathing. Your head placed against his chest, his heartbeat against your ear resting right above his heart, relaxing you more.

“I guess. I miss your blonde hair” You changed the subject as you always did when you panicked.

“Now let’s see this picture?” He muttered, taking your phone and looking at it

“Okay. So it’s just a picture of you kissing someone. It’s also a very old picture Chérie” He rubbed your arm gently with his hand

“You’re changing the subject. This could be anyone in this picture, so let’s continue with our plans of a day on the boat. There’s gonna be other people there, so let’s get ready for that” You nodded, kissing his jaw.

An hour later, you were following Pierre onto Charles’ boat after not answering any of your brother’s texts. Lando thankfully followed behind you so it didn’t look too suspicious. Not that he knew that you were using him to hide your panic.

“Look who finally showed up” Charles rolled his eyes, and you dropped your head

“It’s an old picture. I promise. I was like nineteen in those pictures. Like four years ago” you sighed, sitting down next to Pierre. It's more like you had been hiding your relationship for four years. It was perfect. You got to quarantine together and just pretend it was because Pierre’s house offer had fallen through. Well, it had, but he definitely could have got another.

“Qu'est ce qui ne vas pas chez toi?” (What is wrong with you?) Arthur asked Charles, pushing him aside and wrapping his arms around you from behind. Being just a year younger than Arthur, you had always been close. He was more interested in who it was to annoy you about it than Charles, who wanted to kill whoever it was. Lorenzo just wanted to be nosey and know all the details. A little longer, you were talking about stories of your childhood with the Leclerc brothers. Pierre had left to go to the bathroom and then get the next round of drinks.

“Y/N started a fight once, and it got a little too violent” Arthur laughed, and you shook your head

“I did not start the fight. I joined in on the fight and got violently attacked” you replied, rolling his eyes

“Violently attacked?” Lando asked, and you nodded

“Enzo pushed Cha. Who fell into me, and I went through the glass table. Maman was not happy. I broke her glass table but was even less amused when she realised I was bleeding” You looked at Arthur, who was sitting on the other side of you.

“It’s a nice scar now. One for the history books” Arthur laughed

“What scar?” Pierre asked, handing you a glass of wine as he took his seat back next to you, his hand instinctively going to your thigh, which was hidden by the table you were sitting at.

“The one from going through the table when the boys were fighting”

“The one on your right ribs?” He asked, and you nodded. He paused only now, just realising what had left his mouth. Shit.

“Que viens-tu de dire?” (What did you just say?) Charles asked, standing up and rounding the side of the table

“I didn’t” He shrugged, and you rolled your eyes

“It’s not exactly hidden, is it?” You asked with a shrug

“I’m sure Lando even knew it was there” you added, and Lando shook his head

“Of course you didn’t” This really wasn’t how you wanted your relationship to come out. Your leg bouncing under the table. Arthur took your hand, giving it a squeeze, knowing exactly how this was about to go. Arthur had definitely pieced it together today, and he didn’t care.

“C'est bon. Il s'en remettra” He whispered in your ear as Charles continued to go off on Pierre for getting with his little sister. You stood up, pushing Charles back

“Shut up! Charles. You’re not my keeper. No wonder I spent the last twenty-three years hiding all of my relationships. Including this one. Pierre looks after me, Charles. More than you ever had during your travelling. It’s all I’m the best with you. Arthur’s never been good enough, I’ve never been good enough. So stop it, will you?” You shook your head walking inside the boat, Pierre, following behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist as your hands rested against the counter. Your head fell back onto his chest as you tried to hold back your tears. His head resting on your shoulder.

“Amour. Je t'aime et je t'aimerais toujours” (Love. I love you and always will) He kissed your neck softly as his thumbs gently rubbed against your hips.

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x sister!reader #charles leclerc x sister #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc x sister!reader #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pg10 x reader #pierre gasly x leclerc!reader #lando norris x reader #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x y/n

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tmntxthings · 1 year

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Fun fact: Turtles touch/tap the face of their partner as a form mating display, so can we get some head canons of the rise boys unconsciously/involuntarily touching their s/o face, like cupping their cheeks with one or both hands habitually whenever they're in arms length or tapping/brushing the back of their hand on s/o cheek to get their attention?

Turtle Taps

author’s note: here you are cute anon!! i was smitten with this idea but it only came to fruition bc of @marwhoa’s encouragement hehe

warnings: fluff, kisses, established relationships, unedited

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Leonardo

he would poke

idk but i imagine when the two of you were close friends, borderline dating, he’d ‘annoy’ you by poking your face, especially those chubby cheeks of yours

you would complain, batting his hands away, and as friends that was fine but when the two of you started dating it would hurt his feelings

“I can’t help it!” “You’re just too cute!” He’d repeat those excuses, not truly explaining the full meaning behind his repeated actions. And Leo would’ve never told you!

The two of you were dozed off during a movie marathon in the projector room. Laying in bean bags that were pressed together, Leo had made sure his was close to yours. He woke up first and as he turned to see your sleeping form his hands went out on their own accord.

Cupping your cheeks gently and his thumbs giving soft taps. He felt so happy when you snuggled your face further into his hands. So happy in fact that he couldn’t help it when he started poking those chubby cheeks

Your eyes snapped open, “Leo!” You grumped, wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep. His hands would freeze, his eyes widening, feeling badly about having gotten caught and your rejection as you batted his hands away once again.

He quickly got up, mumbling an excuse about getting something to eat. His immediate reaction had you sitting up, feeling guilty for having hurt his feelings you finally did a google search.

‘Why do turtles tap faces?’ Upon further research after being so utterly shocked at the initial results. You felt like a fool. You got up, blushing furiously as you rushed to the kitchen. Leo was faced away from you but he heard your approach and asked if you wanted something to eat as well. “We got leftover piz-

He stopped short as he felt your hands encase his face. Then hesitantly only out of nerves, you started to lightly tap his green cheeks. Leo was a churring mess, moving too fast so he could turn to see you. You pulled back and he was smiling brightly, face awaiting for you to continue your earlier actions

So you complied, hands going out once more and you tapped his cheeks, the smile Leo gave you practically blinded you. “You could’ve told me what this actually meant!” You complained, poking his cheeks in the same annoying way he would, but he’d just nuzzle his face into your touches

“Yeah I guess I could’ve,” he mused. He had been too embarrassed to just say it. That and he just wasn’t the type to admit the truth that easily. But if he had known your reaction would’ve been this he’d have spilled sooner. You smile and shake your head, stilling your hands and pulling him close to plant a sweet kiss to his snout.

Michelangelo

Mikey would squish your face in pure excitement. He’s just so happy, he can’t contain himself, he’s squishing your cheeks together.

He could be on the whole other side of the room, or not in the same space at all, but he’ll run through the lair, find you at random and squish your cheeks together squealing about something that excited him.

Definitely happens so much that you’ve accepted it at this point, you’ll see him barreling towards you (yes he’s tackled you to the ground a couple times when you weren’t prepared for him to jump you!) and accept your fate

You try to play it off sometimes like you’re annoyed but truthfully it’s just so cute and endearing, when he’s reallyyyyy happy or when the two of you are alone he’ll squish your cheeks together and peck your lips with a soft kiss. A flurry of them too, you’re not just getting one kiss

Many many swift kisses in rapid session, and let’s say he just won in a video game, the arcade room empty except for you two, he’ll give the room a quick scan before he’s on you

“Y/n!!!! I wonnn !! Hehe did ya see??” He squishes your cheeks together while he speaks and as soon as he’s done he’s kissing you before you can answer, you hadn’t seen him win, you were playing your own game but he didn’t need to know that

Once he parted you spoke though your speech sounded slightly off because he still had his hands cupping your face, squishing, “ ‘hat’s awesome Mikey” he’d blush, coming down from the excitement

It was like his thoughts would come after he took action, taking note of his hands and how his lips felt, he’d pull you closer, slower this time and giving you a breath-taking smooch

Only this time he had forgotten to glance around beforehand so he flinched as he heard the snap of a camera. “Oh don’t mind me lovebirds, just documenting for future-“ Leo stopped midway realizing Mikey was actually quite close all of the sudden

“Give that here!! Leo!!” Mikey yelled chasing after his older brother. Of course it had been Leo, laughter and yelling could be heard throughout the lair and you were sure everyone would be witnessing this spectacle, you chuckled strolling at a leisure pace after your orange clad turtle

Donatello

Donnie brushes you with his hand

It doesn’t happen often and when it happens it surprises Donnie the most out of the two of you

He’ll be overthinking or had gotten so overworked that Donnie will blink and suddenly you’re in front of him with worried eyes, your mouth moving but he doesn’t hear anything as his hands reach out as if by instinct and he’s brushing the back of his hand against your cheek

He’s blinking slowly and watching your expression soften as you gingerly do the same to him, giving him time to move away if he doesn’t want your touch. But this time he does want it, he’s exhausted honestly but as soon as he feels your fingers brushing against his green cheek he’s sighing

Like he’s expelling all the stress and worries he had minutes earlier, he’s leaning into your touch and it’s like his battery that was depleted is now recharging

He stays there, nuzzling his face into your hand as Donnie continues brushing or just holding your face close to his own. Once he’s charged though he’ll blink and suddenly remember himself, pulling back sharply and blushing a darker green

Coughing into his fist as you pull back, smirking at his embarrassed reaction, “How about we eat some pizza and you go to bed? Hmmm Donatello??” Teasing him no doubt but making sure he understands that it’s probably best to take a break from his projects

“Sure, sure.” Donnie’s standing stiffly, one hand coming up to cover another fit of embarrassed coughs as he swiftly leaves the lab, you follow him smiling to yourself as your own cheeks felt warm.

Raphael

Raph gives you light taps

He’s always treating you with an extra amount of care. He’d never forgive himself if he was the cause to your pain.

Raph isn’t as shy as he is with his feelings towards tapping you, but he is similar in a way that he doesn’t do it super often

If you’re around and the two of you aren’t alone he’ll probably hold himself back but if you are alone he likes greeting you with light taps to your cheek

He’ll be a blushing mess, eyes cast everywhere but at you and Raph will give you sweet gentle taps, he only makes eye contact when your hands cover his, giggling at his expression

“Still so shy even after all this time?” You quip and Raph gives you a bashful grin, “Only with this!” And he’ll kiss you easily to prove the point. He definitely isn’t shy about that which shocks you more since these cute taps don’t seem that embarrassing

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rainbowsuitcase · 5 months

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The Winter Soldier - Rewatched

I decided to rewatch CA:TWS after about five years and I have some thoughts.

1. There’s "moon landing" written on Steve's list of things to catch up on. This movie is happening two years after the first Avengers and Google says Steve woke up a year before that. What the hell has he been doing for three years that he hasn’t had the time to catch up on moon landing? Moon landing!

2. Again, Steve's been living in this century for three years and yet, when Sam asks him what makes him happy, he doesn’t have an answer. He doesn’t know how to not be a soldier. He doesn’t know how to be anything but.

3. Regarding Civil War, people say it's ironic that Steve is the one against the accords because he’s always the one following orders (and similar crap) but that’s literally not true? In CA:TFA, Captain America as a hero is literally born from Steve going against orders to save Bucky. In this movie, he disagrees with project Insight from the beginning and later, he’s the one to decide to take SHIELD down with it, because the organization cannot be trusted anymore. Steve Rogers was never "a good boy following orders." He was always a man who did what he thought was right.

4. Also, this movie is practically a PSA that you can’t trust these authorities, but people still expected Steve to just sign away his free will as a hero to one, just a movie later? bfr

5. I am convinced that if he went shield first, Steve could easily run through a wall. At least in America, walls are made of paper there.

6. If I remember correctly, the Winter Soldier is the only enemy of Captain America that uses the shield against him in such capacity, and that’s just a really nice touch.

7. On that note, the Winter Soldier on his own is such a cool character that I would definitely want to see more of if there wasn’t, you know, tortured and brainwashed Bucky under there.

8. If one of them was a woman they'd end up together. I know the fandom says it a lot but I completely forget how painfully true that is. We spend a third of the movie, at least, with Natasha trying to find Steve a girlfriend and wondering why he doesn’t have one, and that’s a plotline that doesn’t get resolved in the movie. Steve says he doesn’t date because it’s "kinda hard to find someone with shared life experience," in the very same movie where he finds out that his lifelong best friend, possibly the only person on earth with "shared life experience," is still alive. If Bucky was a woman, this would be called foreshadowing.

9. And to end on a positive note, Sebastian's face acting is literally perfect. He had like five lines in the whole movie and yet he brought Bucky to life so well. He gave the character a soul.

This scene is literal acting gold and Sebastian deserved an Oscar for these five seconds alone.

#log #ca:tws #captain america #winter soldier #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #ca:cw #captain america civil war #sebastian stan

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slutforitoshi · 1 year

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sae and rin itoshi - aphrodisiac *:･ﾟ✧

ft. sae itoshi x f!reader x rin itoshi, 18+ minors dni

cw: threesome, rin and sae literally fight over your body, f!masturbation, oral m!receiving and f!receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, cumming on face

synopsis: your hangover leads you to make the best mistake

wc: 3k

A/N: so fucking feral for this duo <3 also as for requests, i’m open to prompts but it’s not a guarantee i’ll write it T-T (please send in ideas though i’m always looking for inspo!)

you woke up with your head pounding incessantly, mimicking the music from the clubs you hopped the night before. you don’t even remember how you got home. fuck, why did you think it was a good idea to drink like you were still a freshman?

you fumble for your phone at the edge of your bed, hoping you remembered to charge it before you passed out. near the top of your notification stack was a text from your roommate.

roomie: headed back home for the weekend! i was gonna say bye but you were still knocked out lol. introduce me to your new friends again sometime, they were cute ;)

what was she talking about? as far as you remembered you came home alone after a night out with some old high school friends that your roommate already knew. well, as far as you remembered was around 6 shots in, barely past the 1st club.

you laid a bit longer in bed, trying to recall the events that ensued after your old friend challenged you to match her. how were you supposed to know she could outdrink any frat guy multiple times over? the night started coming back to you in flashes, like you were watching a compilation of embarrassing clips that got increasingly worse.

dancing on a table, throwing up in a bush, getting close to kissing the bartender for free drinks…was there anything you didn’t do??

the pounding in your head grew in intensity, pushing you out of bed and straight to the medicine cabinet. tylenol, tylenol, tylenol…aha there. you grab the white bottle and pop the cap open, downing two at once, dry (that’s how desperate you were for the migraine to subside).

the couch was your next destination. you felt the soft cushions and way too many pillows and plushes rest against you, giving you immediate relief from the aches in your body. see? i told you it was a good idea you said internally at your mom who was complaining how the couch decor was “excessive”.

you waited for the pills to kick in, to give you any relief from the persistent pressure that surrounded your temples. and it did…only to move down lower. it starts off as a slight pressure on your abdomen, then blossoming into heat. you weren’t innocuous at this point in life, and recognized exactly what it was: you were horny.

and the heat only grew, morphing into a roaring fire, with the incinerator located right between your thighs. you could already feel the dampness, threatening to leak past your folds onto cloth. this cannot be right. who gets aggressively horny during a hangover??

you begrudgingly hoist yourself up from the soft plushes, and make your way back to the medicine cabinet, starting to wonder if the tylenol might’ve been expired or something. the bottle itself looked normal, until you looked inside it. tylenol isn’t supposed to be pink.

you fish a pill out, looking for any engravings that might tell you what the fuck you ingested half an hour ago. libido-max. from the name of it alone (along with your still intensifying symptoms) you should’ve realized what it meant. nonetheless you resort to good old google to help explain.

“libido-max is an over the counter sex enhancement pill for women complete with a warming formula for maximized pleasure” your hand clasps over your mouth as you continue reading, “the recommended serving size is one pill as the dosage is quite strong.”

it dawns upon you that you took double the recommended amount. shit. you were definitely never drinking like that ever again. you contemplate texting your roommate why tf did you switch out the tylenol for female viagra, but decided against it. technically it was on you, too. leave it up to your dreadfully hungover self to swallow bright pink pills without thinking twice.

as you felt the temperature in your body continue to rise, there was only one method you could think of for relief. switching to incognito you pull up a porn site, settling on a video you thought would do. you skipped through all the bad acting in the intro, right into the action, desperate for some release.

“harder…fuckk” the woman through your screen moans, and you could feel your clit throbbing in response. reaching down, you’re met with more slick than you’d ever encountered touching yourself. squelching noises echoed your room, growing louder than the sinful moans coming from the speaker of your phone.

your small fingers slid easily into sopping entrance, and the sensation was more than welcomed. small moans began to escape your lips as well, harmonizing with the other woman’s. you synchronized your fingers with the thrusts in the video, imagining it was you getting pounded, fucked so mercilessly by a thick cock.

after a particularly loud moan through your phone, you can feel it. like you’re at the edge of a cliff ready to drop before-

knock knock.

aand you lost it. grumbling, you exit out of the tab and pull up your already drenched panties. if it was another old lady trying to recruit you to join a pyramid scheme, you weren’t sure if you could resist slamming the door.

“look i’m not interested in-” instead of a short old woman with a fake smile, you’re met with a pair of teal eyes. two actually, now that you noticed the second figure behind him.

“oh my gosh i’m so sorry, i thought you were- well nevermind um can i help you?” you stumble over your words, half out of embarrassment and half because you realized the two guys standing in front of you were attractive.

“we stopped by to return your jacket” the one with light maroon colored hair says, holding up the familiar coat you left your house wearing last night.

“shoot, thank you so much” you take the coat out of his hands, noticing that they’re veiny with long fingers. you try to ignore the flash of heat the observation causes.

“how did you know it was mine though?” you cautiously ask.

“oh she must not remember” the taller one says softly. your mind starts racing. what the fuck did you do in front of them?

“it wasn’t anything that bad” the one in front reassures you, seeing the panic settle on your face. “you just passed out in our apartment and we had to carry you here.”

wasn’t anything that bad??? you were mortified. you knocked out in some random (really attractive) guys’ apartment and they had to bring you back. well that explains how you got home last night then.

“oh my gosh i’m so sorry,” you replied, clearly flustered. the guys don’t give much of a response though, simply shrugging. you noticed that they were pretty expressionless.

“it’s ok, we live next door anyways” the green haired one says, looking to the right. “we were taking out the trash and came back to you on our couch. your roommate called you a bit after so we knew where to take you.”

ah, they must be the cute new friends your roommate texted you about.

before you could respond, a pair of cold hands were on your cheek (or maybe you thought they were cold because you were still under the effects of the pills).

“are you sick?” the owner of the cold hands was the maroon-haired one. you flinched away from his hands, turning an even deeper shade of pink.

“n-no, probably just a bit hungover though” you nervously laughed, hoping they’d just accept that.

“you look like you’re burning up, maybe a fever?” the other one steps forward, taking a closer look at your flushed appearance. yeah it’s because you feel like a fucking dog in heat and having two insanely hot guys in front of you is not. helping.

“no i promise i’m fine” you try harder to convince the duo, “i probably just need to rest up from last night…”

neither of them move from the front door, and the green haired one cocks an eyebrow. they clearly don’t believe you.

“do you need any medicine? we should have flu medicine-” the green haired one starts.

“nope no flu medicine needed here” you let out a nervous chuckle, trying not to let your knees buckle. the knot in your abdomen grew significantly since you answered the door. you needed to cum, and soon.

“hey we don’t mind getting you some. i think your roommate mentioned she was leaving this weekend and you shouldn’t be home alone without medicine-” this time the maroon haired one is cut off.

“i promise i’m not sick” you exasperate, now having to lean against the frame for support (clearly not a good look for your case). the shorter guy’s eyebrows furrow in concern. both pairs of feet were still planted in your doorway, and you realize they weren’t leaving until you either accepted the medicine or told them the truth.

looking back, the other option was clearly the more logical and less embarrassing one. you’d blame the hangover for the words that spilled out of your mouth next.

“it’s not because of a fever. i…i accidentally mistook sex enhancement pills for tylenol and took way more than the recommended dose,” your bit your lip, hoping they’d leave now that you were honest. the two look at each other, and the teal glint in their eyes served as a signal that they were thinking the exact same thing.

“there’s still a way we can help you though”

~~~

“rinn” you moaned as his fingers ghosted over your already pebbled nipples through the thin tank you had on.

pleasantries and introductions were quickly exchanged as they kicked off their shoes and began undressing. you could hardly believe your ears at their suggestion, but you weren’t exactly in the position to refuse such a tempting offer. in fact, you were more than eager to accept.

now, you were draped over the couch, your head facing who you now knew as rin. sae was on the opposite end, marveling at the mess you made through your cotton shorts.

“it’s like a fucking flood down here,” and he starts pulling at the waistband.

rin continues to tease your nipples, never giving you enough friction. you were so responsive, even the slightest touch had your back arching. please, more, you beg internally. rin seems to recognize your pleads though and finally pulls your tank down to reveal the hypersensitive skin.

his lips are upon them immediately, sucking harshly, causing an exceptionally loud moan from you. from your half-closed lids, you could see sae’s eyes darken. as if unhappy how his brother could emit such a reaction from you. he was determined to do better.

you were fully exposed waist down now, and sae slowly runs a finger down the soaked slit, taking note of how you shivered from the action. he presses two fingers and is amazed at how easily they slip in, prompting him to add a third.

“fuck sae…so full” you moan out, which sae responds with a smirk before he starts moving his digits. in and out, in and out, and you could feel yourself tiptoeing the side of the cliff again. what does it for you is rin though.

“stop hogging her pussy” he says, rising from your chest. one of his hands move down, pausing precisely at your clit. as soon as he’s circling them you feel the push over the edge.

“i-i’m cumming!” you scream out, followed by waves of intense moans. you weren’t sure if you’d ever cum so hard before. it took a minute for you to recover, only to see the brothers’ hands had left you.

“what the fuck rin. that was my moment” sae spat, clearly pissed he wasn’t the catalyst to your orgasm.

“you should’ve been faster then” rin responds, a glare settled on his face. the warmth in your stomach was still growing, and you were still desperate for their touch.

“i want another” you whine, and teal orbs immediately snap back to you. right, the match was far from over. that was just the first goal.

they assume their old positions, except sae intends to use more than his fingers this time. it felt like fireworks the moment his lips hit your heat. the soft muscle of his tongue circled your clit, then moved down to dip inside the leaking hole. the added combination of the pill’s effects along with the sensitivity from your last orgasm had you bucking your hips which sae quickly restricted. he pins down your lower waist with his arm, and you could feel how strong he was.

rin’s lips instead sought out yours, messily kissing them as he fumbled with his belt buckle. then his lips were off yours. a light push causes you to fall onto your back, and he pulls you forward abruptly so that your head is left hanging off the side of the couch. sae’s tongue never leaves you, moving forward with the pull.

you see your first cock of the day, and it’s pretty. long and curved upwards, towards an insanely handsome face. you instinctively open your mouth, tongue slightly hanging out against your bottom lip.

“fuck, i could cum to this view” rin sighs before pushing his length into you. it almost immediately hits the back of your throat, but he pushes further. tears prickle from the invasion, but you refused to push him off you. not when he’s making such sounds.

breathy moans leave his mouth as he thrusts harshly. you could swear that alone made you grow even hotter. the sight of the bulge that forms at your neck every time he pushes in makes him delirious.

sae utilizes his fingers with his free hand again, pressing three fingers into the entrance that happily welcomes them as he laps up the slick that continues to flow out. he curves his fingers just right, hitting the spot as if he’d known the exact blueprint of your body. and the second set of waves come.

“that’s right, cum hard for me”

even sae’s arm couldn’t hold you down as your next orgasm shook you, not that he minded. your move rin he mentally said, but rin had other concerns. your throat had gotten tighter, and the vibrations from your moans were pushing him to his own threshold.

your mouth is hit with a new heat, coming from the man positioned above you. as much as he tried, he couldn’t contain it, and thick white ribbons hits your throat which you struggled to swallow all of.

as he pulled out of your abused cavern though, his length still remained. it was as if the pill’s effects were contagious.

sae had risen from his position, taking the time to free his own cock. thick was the first word that came to mind. it no doubt had a wider circumference than his brother’s, although a bit shorter. he uses his strong arms to flip you over, pulling your ass up near him. what a sight. he aligns himself at the entrance, eager to chase the next crash of waves.

usually rin would object to letting his brother take such a pretty girl first, but frankly, he had to take a break; fucking your throat left him breathless. instead he focuses his attention back towards your lips, laying more gentle kisses against them this time.

sae was still full of need though, and rin’s soft kisses were starkly contrasted with the abrupt stretch of sae’s girth into you. your mind went into a haze, not knowing where to focus your consciousness as rin begins to knead at your hanging breasts.

“taking cock so well” sae grumbles as the sounds of slapping skin grows “like you were fucking made for it.”

sae’s pace is merciless, and it persisted. you couldn’t fathom the extents of his stamina, seeing as how he didn’t even break a sweat. your voice began to grow hoarse from the repeated moans, and sae’s pride grew knowing he was the cause.

“hey, mind sharing?” rin deadpans, growing impatient at his brother’s greed. he’s met with a glare, but sae begrudgingly pulls out, leaving you empty. you began to protest, but rin quickly reassures you.

“i’m right here. gonna fill you up real quick” he picks you up with ease, placing himself under your figure. his cock twitches as the tip prods your entrance, reveling in the way your slick coats him. he swiftly bottoms out in one push. sae’s previous work makes it easy for him to quickly pick up the pace, and you’re left an incoherent mess once again.

“f-feels so good rin” you stammer between thrusts.

“wanna make you cream on my cock. need to feel you cum around me” he mutters

sae’s taken rin’s old position, lining his girth directly in your line of vision. you know what he wants and you happily open your mouth once again. sae begins his attack of new bruises against the back of your throat, relishing in the feeling as you hum in pleasure from rin’s length.

harder, faster you think, desperate to dissipate the pool of heat in your abdomen.

even with your mouth full, rin seems to understand you perfectly, hands gripping harder at your waist to help him reach new depths in you. your muscles began to involuntarily clamp around rin, a sign that you were looking over the cliff again. his thrusts also grow erratic as he’s close to his high.

“f-fuckkk!” you exclaim, losing strength in your lower body. rin continues to pound through your climax, increasing his speed even more until he inevitably shoots strips of white into another tunnel of your body.

sae follows soon after, except he opts to pull out and mark your face instead.

the three of you collapse on your couch, utterly exhausted from the intensity of the session.

before you could catch your breath though, you felt a familiar warmth start to pool once again down below.

“still..still hot” you pant, overheating by the second.

“you heard her rin,” and the brothers shift towards you again, ready for another match.

#rin itoshi #rin #itoshi rin #itoshi sae #sae #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #sae x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #sae smut #sae itoshi smut #rin itoshi smut #rin smut #blue lock #blue lock smut #bllk #bllk smut

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nomazee · 3 days

Note

Um hello! Is the 1k event thingy still up?? If so I would like to request a classmate! Dr ratio x reader at 2:47 am?

it's actually sickening how much fun i had with this i was giggling at my own jokes while typing this out... this was so fun to write THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!!!

my 1k event!

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A blaring, aggravating, shrill sound wakes you up. Your hands go to cover your ears, protecting your sanity from the noise ringing somewhere from the tangle of sheets on your bed. Hands flailing around desperately to find the source of the piercing chimes, you writhe around in agony until you finally latch onto your phone.

The brightness of the screen digs into your corneas as you lift up the device to see the caller ID of whoever had the guts to bother you on a school night.

It comes to no surprise that the caller name reads “VERITAS FUCKING RATIO” in all caps with no contact photo. Your eye twitches and the grip on your phone tightens, just a hair away from leaving finger-shaped dents in the metal.

Begrudgingly, you answer the call, tucking the phone next to your ear with nothing less than displeasure. “Veritas. Why are you calling me at—” you pull your phone back to check, “—almost three in the morning?”

“The works cited page,” Veritas Fucking Ratio informs you matter-of-factly. There’s no hint of sleepiness in his voice, nothing that could possibly chip away at his good image, of course. “You did it in the wrong format. It’s supposed to be APA. This is a science project, not a literature project.”

You might kill him. The project in question is to be presented tomorrow— today at ten in the morning. Ratio and you had been working on it for an entire two weeks, broken up into intermittent hour-long sessions because he was adamant that you split up the work instead of rushing to do it all the night before. Stupid self-righteous gorgeous beautiful academic genius-freak. Yeah, it definitely helped you in the long run, but he acted so sanctimonious about it that you refused to admit the benefits.

“Veritas,” you imbue the syllables of his name with poison, as much as you can when you’re swaying as you sit up on your bed and fighting demons to not fall back asleep. “This is such an easily-fixed thing. Do you know what time it is right now? Why are you even awake? You know, I am supposed to get a full seven hours of sleep every night, and I was already cutting it short today, and you woke me up before I could even hit REM sleep. Do you know how upsetting this is? Fix the goddamn works cited yourself!”

For once, Veritas is at a loss for words. The other end of the line is so quiet that you have to double check and make sure he hasn’t just hung up on you. Perspiration builds on your palms, thinking that this is it—this is the exact moment that you make Veritas-Fucking-Ratio snap and delete your name off the project credit slide, and you’re going to get a 0 because he will wipe off any evidence of your work from this plane of existence, and you will spend the rest of your measly life chasing after your MLA-turned-APA works cited page, too-little-too-late.

“I’m awake because the— well.” He pauses, and his voice sounds so far away and unobtrusive that you’re almost worried. Your breath stills in the middle of your diaphragm. Waiting. “The works cited is one thing. But I wanted you to look at the slides, if you can.”

If you can, he says, as if he’s giving you a choice, which he literally never has during this entire process. You had no role in choosing the topic, or the slide theme, or what days you worked on the project, or how often you worked on the project (because god forbid you procrastinate a little bit, right?!), but now, at almost three in the morning, Veritas is saying something along the lines of oh please my dearest project partner, I request that you open the Google Slides at once, but only if you would like to! I would never infringe on your free will at three in the morning, because I respect you as a partner. Or something like that. That was pretty much the gist of it.

A raspy sigh escapes you, and you claw your busted laptop off the nightstand next to you, opening it up and squinting at the LED screen as you punch in your passcode. “You know, I have done a good job at going along with all of your whims, Veritas, the least you could do is fix the works cited for me. Seriously, how did you even miss that? You’re so detail-oriented, but you didn't even realize the format was wrong until tonight? Who even cares, seriously… it’s just a slideshow…”

Your voice trails off as the slideshow presentation finally loads in. You see Veritas’ default profile picture blink in the upper right-hand corner, signaling that he’s viewing the slideshow with you. The slideshow which has apparently undergone a huge makeover.

It’s—pleasant to look at. This entire time, you and Veritas had been editing a default, white-background black-serif-font-text slideshow. He refused to change it, telling you that it’s unprofessional to do anything too embellished, to which you fruitlessly said, Veritas, we will die early deaths because of the hole in the ozone layer, would you at least make it easier on my poor soul by letting me choose a pokemon-theme slide? Veritas had pretended like he couldn't hear you (in a very quiet library room, mind you), but the twitch in his brow gave him away.

Now, though, the slides are decorated. It’s a really nice theme, complete with custom icons and graphic blobs of color—your favorite color, might you add. It’s—pretty. Dare you say, cute, but you think Veritas would vaporize your entire presentation if you called it cute.

“Did you— this— did you pay for this slide theme?”

“You— n— mn,” he trails off into an unintelligible mash of mumbling, and you hear a loud THUD that sounds awfully like the phone being thrown onto a mattress. Fabric shuffles around, before you hear Veritas’ voice again, clear and composed. “Sorry. I dropped my phone.” What a loser, and a liar, and an endearing freak. You really wish he video called you because you need to see his totally-very-ugly face.

“I thought this was unprofessional, Veritas,” you say teasingly, a smile lining your words as you try not to giggle right into the phone. “What made you have a change of heart?”

“Nothing,” the typical firmness of his voice has returned, much to your dismay. “The works cited is still wrong. You have to fix it.”

“Oh, whatever you say, honored Ratio,” you open up your trusty citation-generator, ready for a long fifteen minutes of copying and pasting information. “Hey, you must be free after class tomorrow, right? Since the project is pretty much over, right?”

“Yes,” Veritas answers after a moment of hesitation, only a hint of doubt in his voice.

“That’s great. Keep your schedule clear, then.”

(You fix the works cited slide, wish Veritas sweet dreams, and then wake up in the morning to completely ace your presentation. The minute the period ends, you drag him out of the classroom and into a coffee shop, paying for some five dollar pastry and joking that it’s payback for the cute slideshow theme that he definitely paid five dollars for. Veritas is an awful liar, and you tell him that, and he can’t even find the strength to deny it.)

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gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin

fill out my event taglist (pinned) or general taglist (navi) to be tagged in upcoming works!

#nora hits 1k #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dr. ratio x reader #honkai x reader #ratio x reader #i love this man he's like a wet piece of bark #like a rained-on plank of wood #this drabble is longer than my dan heng one im sick... dr ratio will not overtake my favorites leaderboard.

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year

Text

Love Language

➪the one where you’re all clay needs to keep himself calm before surgery (and after).

Warnings: sam does not exist here (sorry not sorry f that b), mentions of surgery, surgery topics, hospital themes, anxiety, clay's surgery is successful and his mother is still alive, heart transplants (you saw the movie, you know how it goes), heavy topics, 'what is the healing process of a heart transplant' was definitely googled more than once while writing this.

Word Count: 2.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

The sun peered into the room through the thin, white curtains - the same ones Clay has begged you to let him replace more than once now. It heated the room to the perfect temperature, not too cold while also not making you break out into a sweat.

Lying fast asleep beside you was possibly the most beautiful man you had ever seen. His face was pressed to the pillow, his arms lifted and hidden under said pillow as he often fell asleep on his stomach, the front of his body pressed to the mattress.

You reach over and gently trace your index finger over the various freckles that scattered his back before laying your palm flat against his skin, the faint beat of his heart bringing you a sense of comfort you never knew you needed.

The glow of the sun made his skin look golden, his face relaxed and his hair messy from moving in his sleep.

In other words, he was just perfect.

You lift your body, your elbow digging into the bed as you hold yourself up. Unable to stop your wandering lips, you lean over and press a kiss to his bicep, and another to his shoulder blade.

Though your touch was feather light, it still woke him up as though his body couldn’t help but react whenever you showed him any type of affection. His eyes opened in a squint due to the light that invaded the room, the corner of his lips turning upwards in a boyish grin. “Hi,”

“Hi,” you murmur back, trailing your hand further up his back before tangling it in his light hair.

He gives you a look that has your heart swelling before he lifts his head just to bury his face back in the pillow. You grin at his shyness, a personality trait you would’ve never imagined he had. With billions behind his name, a successful mother, a future set in stone, and a whole city that belonged to him; you expected him to be arrogant, spoiled, ruthless, even.

But no, he was none of those things.

He was kind, had the persona of an angel, something that prompted you to give him the nickname, your angel. He had a smile that could make any okay day an amazing one, the charm to sweep anyone off their feet, and a heart as big and sweet as anything in the entire world. Even though his heart was fragile and could betray him at any given moment, he still didn’t let that change his view on the world, the beautiful thing it was.

To put it simply; Clay Beresford was the embodiment of everything good in the world, a light so bright that he had no idea just how much he lit up the darkest corners of damn near everyone he’s ever met, a man so perfect you found yourself believing you were stuck in a dream every time you woke up next to him.

Massaging your fingers into his scalp, you fill with a sense of happiness at the content sigh that escapes him, silent in sound but evident in the way his shoulders raised and dropped slowly.

You move closer to him, brushing your nose against his arm. “Why are you hiding from me?” You ask quietly, your hand flattening out his messy hair.

He lifted his head just enough for him to be able to murmur, “I’m not hiding from you, baby,” the corners of his lips turned upwards as he continued, “Just from your awful excuse of a curtain.”

You gasp, taking your hand away from his head to give his shoulder a gentle push. “Hate them all you want,” you shrug, meeting his eyes when he turned his head to look at you. “I’m still not letting you buy me new ones.”

Clay laughed quietly, shifting so he was now on his back. His right hand came up to grab your left one, his eyes fixated on the large diamond that found home on your finger.

With your free hand, you reach over and gently press it against his shoulder, your fingers firmly poking against the few small knots you felt. “What are you thinking about?” You nearly whisper, afraid as though you would ruin the peaceful atmosphere if you were to talk at your usual pitch.

His blue eyes met yours once again. “You,” he simply answered and you felt a heat rush to your face. Keeping your hand locked in his, you lean down and press your lips to his mouth, an innocent kiss that grew heated when his left hand grabbed your hip and pulled your body on top of his.

Your upper body was covered by his white dress shirt he wore to the dinner party last night, the shirt being the first thing you grabbed once you woke up this morning, while your lower half was covered by a thin black lace.

Clay has told you many times now that he loves the way you look in his clothes and it brings out a possessive side he never knew he had. You were just so beautiful, and you looked past his family drama and his heart problem and chose him.

There weren’t words that are strong enough to describe his love for you or how much he adored you. You were one of the few things in his life that felt normal and right, and it was no surprise that he couldn’t hold back on asking you to be his forever just eight months into the relationship.

You started out as his mom’s assistant. Lilith was a sweetheart right at the start, showing you around her massive house with the patience of a new teacher, smiling at you and encouraging any questions you might have had.

You remembered exiting the kitchen and entering the front hall just as Clay returned home, his eyes tired and his form slouched. It was almost comical how quickly he straightened up and how wide his eyes opened. Lilith’s dismissal of his sudden appearance was one you’ll never forget. “Oh, that’s Clay, my son. Don’t worry, you won’t see much of him,”

How wrong she was.

From that day on, Clay did any and everything he could to see you, even for just a split second. He’d prolong quick conversations, give you a long answer instead of a short one to any question you had, and was always there to greet you when you arrived in the mornings.

You were kidding yourself when you made a promise that you wouldn’t fall for him. You fell for Clay hard and fast, and it seemed as though he fell for you just as bad. When you became official, you quit being Lilith’s assistant as you felt weird about it and didn’t want your source of income to be from his mom.

No matter how much money the Beresford name had, you still felt cheap whenever Clay or his mother offered to pay for something. You knew it wouldn’t faze them, and you appreciate their kindness, but you refused each and every time.

“You do realize that you’re entitled to my money once we’re married, right?” He’d ask you every time you refused to let him pay for you.

You always respond with, “Yeah, well, we’ll figure that out when we get there,”

His hands slide up your back when you break away from his mouth and begin placing kisses along his jaw. You move onto his neck and shoulders before moving further down and stopping right above where his heart was beating in his chest.

A small bit of sadness filled you as your mouth hovered over that place, your hands pressing into the sheets on either side of his body. Clay noticed this, but before he could ask you what was wrong, you leaned down and placed a kiss to the skin of his chest, just over where his heart is.

He held back a shiver as you placed another kiss and then another, your eyes closing when you felt his hands reach up to caress the sides of your face. Butterflies are set loose all over his body as you kiss him with a feather light touch, acting as if you’d break him if you were to be even the smallest bit rougher with him.

“Hey,” he quietly said, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that fell from your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Shaking your head, you rest it against his chest, the faint beating against your cheek making you smile slightly. “I just love you,” it was hardly audible, but he heard you as clear as day. “So much.”

“Baby,” he says quietly, brushing your hair away from your face as he tries to get you to meet his eye. “Now it’s your turn to tell me what you’re thinking about.”

You wipe away your tears and clear your throat. “It’s nothing,” you answer, looking up at him and caving at the look he gives you. A shaky sigh leaves your lips as you crawl over his body and move to lay on your side next to him. Your fingers trace over the skin you had just kissed while his rubbed soothing circles onto your shoulder. “I was just thinking about how much I will love your new heart, maybe even more than I love your current one.”

Clay grinned down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “There’s no doubt in my mind that my new heart will love you just as much as the old one does now,” he says quietly before adding, “Thank you for never giving up on me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Clay spent a week in the hospital, his pager going off a few hours after you and him got out of bed after your heart to heart talk.

His surgery was a success, his body taking the new organ with no problems at all and rendering him a new man.

You were by his side throughout the whole process, your own heart beating rapidly during the five hours he was under. The sense of relief you felt when his doctor came to the waiting room to inform you and Lilith that it was a success was indescribable.

He woke up an hour or so after the surgery, and a couple more later you were finally allowed to briefly visit him. You instantly started crying, which caused him to cry as well, still a bit drowsy and high off the medication.

Despite the doctor’s request of not getting too close to him, you couldn’t help but press multiple kisses to his face, working carefully around the ventilator, before settling on holding his hand as gently as you could. He looked so tired and weak and worn out, making your heart break the smallest bit as you thought about the long road to recovery he had ahead of him.

Now, four weeks into his recovery process, he was doing well. He would have multiple pain sessions everyday where his chest would ache beyond anything he could ever describe. During those moments he would tightly hold your hand or wrap his arms around your middle while pressing his body to yours until the pain subsided and the quiet groans faded.

You grew closer than ever. You had taken an LOA from your job at the small café downtown to take care of him, looking after his every need with no hesitation. He was in bed for the most part, only getting up to walk the short distance to the bathroom attached to the bedroom or up and down the hallway outside the room to keep him somewhat active. Even then you were no more than a few feet away from him, a nervous look on your face and a crease in your brow

Secretly, the days you spent with him in bed was your favorite way to pass the time. Like right now, your chin resting gently on his shoulder while your index finger lightly ran up and down the scar on his chest. The bandage and stitches had long since been removed and all that was left was a long line from the start of his chest down to just above his lower abdomen.

Today was a good day as he hadn’t felt a single ounce of pain yet, his arm wrapped around you and his fingers lazily tracing shapes on your bicep. His half lidded eyes stared at the ceiling, the only sounds filling the room being your breathing and the low hum of the air conditioning.

Breaking the silence, you keep your voice quiet as you ask, “How are you feeling today?”

Your head lifted slightly with every breath he took, his shoulder rising with every inhale. Just being able to feel him breathe made you fill with a sense of happiness, the stress of the whole thing fading away with every day that passed. “Good,” he answered, his lips turning upwards when he added, “Better than ever.”

You close your eyes at that, exhaling quietly. “Good,” your hand moves from his scar and rests on the skin above his heart, the faint but strong beat making you smile. “You’re still you.” You say quietly and lift yourself up, propping your upper half on your elbow.

Clay furrows his brows as he watches you lean down to press your lips over his heart. He was brought back to the morning of his surgery, just hours before he got the page that a transplant was available, where you did exactly what you were doing now, but on his old and weak heart.

“My angel….New heart, new life,” you continued, kissing his skin once more before meeting his eyes. “Still the same you.”

Clay lifted his hand to stroke your cheekbone with his thumb, the rest of his fingers curling under your jaw. “I’m still me,” he confirmed, matching your small grin with one of his own. “And my heart still loves you just the same.”

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen edit #clay beresford #clay beresford x reader #clay beresford imagines #angst #fluff #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine

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sinofwriting · 9 months

Text

Fans and Press - Oscar Piastri

Words: 776 Summary: Oscar finds out from a reporter that his girlfriend was spotted at a hospital. Note(s): Did a poll to see if people would want this and it was a majority yes. Also based on me having to get an MRI earlier today. Already got the results back, but have to wait for my doctor to call to discuss, but it’s looking like I’m getting surgery. Wish me luck!

Taglist | Masterlist

Oscar could feel his jaw twitch. He hated having to deal with media after DNFing. It was all part of the job, but it wasn’t his favorite. Though media duties in general weren’t his favorite thing.

He nods along to what the reporter from Sky Sports is saying to him, wiping a hand over his forehead, just wishing to get through debrief and sit in his driver's room. Call his girlfriend back, knowing she’ll have already seen the results and called him.

The sound of her name snaps him out of thoughts. Reporters had never brought her up. They were the definition of private not secret. “What?” “Your girlfriend,” the reporter repeats. “Was spotted at the hospital by a fan. Apparently getting an MRI. Is her visiting the hospital possibly the reason for what happened today?” His jaw nearly drops, disbelief and concern wanting to show on his face, but he just shakes his head. “What happened today was unfortunate. But it had nothing to do with personal things going on.” and before he can stop himself, media training disappearing for a moment. “Besides can’t be the reason If I didn’t know that was happening.” He winces immediately after making the comment, at the way the reporter's eyes widen, and he’s thankful when he’s pulled away by his press officer.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes immediately, as soon as they are away from the media. She shakes her head, “That was mild and easily dealt with. Call your girlfriend, write a report of what happened today and get out of here. A full debrief will happen when you go back to Woking for testing.” He wants to question it, the whole thing sounding too good to be true, but he couldn’t risk it being taken away. Not when concern is taking over his whole being now that he’s in private.

He rushes to his driver's room, striping out of his race suit and fire proofs as he dials her number.

She picks up after three rings, “Oscar, baby, I-“ He cuts her off before she can continue. “Are you okay? Is everything alright?” “What? Oscar, are you okay?” “A reporter told me that someone saw you at a hospital. Getting a scan.” He holds his breath as he waits for her to answer, hoping that it’s not true. That the fan was just mistaken. “Oh,” the quiet response tells him all he needs to know and he’s never been more thankful that he's not a messy guy, his suitcase already packed sitting by the door. With a pair of socks, underwear, sweatpants, and hoodie sitting on his couch ready for him to put on.

“What happened?” “Oscar, maybe we should wait until your home.” The usual warm feeling of her calling his apartment, well their apartment, home isn’t there. There’s just dread sitting heavy in his stomach. “I want to know now.” “You won’t be able to sit through debrief if I tell you now.” “I don’t have a debrief. I got told to call you, do a report and get to you and that’s what I’m doing.”

There’s silence for a moment and then she sighs.

“Don’t be mad.” He says her name, already not liking where this is going. “I’ve been having some pain for the past few months.” “What?” He nearly shouts. Pulling his phone away from his ear he puts on speaker before googling flights and pulling on the clothes he set out earlier. Hoping there will be something sooner than tomorrow afternoon. “It’s not anything too serious. I just,” she stops and he stops searching, anger and hurt simmering inside of him. “I should have told you.” He’s silent, but resumes his searching. Clicking on a flight that leaves in three hours and thankfully doesn’t have any connectors. “The doctor thinks it’s a muscle tear.” He takes a sharp breath. “If that is what it is, I’ll have to get surgery. It all depends on what imaging says.” “I thought muscle tears could heal on their own.” “They can. But if they are going to heal on their own they do it within two to four weeks. It’s been longer than that for me.”

“Are you okay?” He asks. “Are you in pain?” “I’m alright, baby. Promise. They gave me some muscle relaxers, they help.” “But you are in pain.” “Only when I do certain things. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.” “Darling,” he says pained. “I’m okay, Os. I promise. My doctor will call me sometime tomorrow with the results.” “I’m coming home now. There’s a flight that leaves in three hours.” His voice turns soft, “I’ll be home soon.” “Okay,” she pauses. “I love you.” “I love you too.”

---

Tagging: @gemofthenight

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader

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embrosegraves · 1 month

Text

𝕃𝕒 𝔽𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕒 𝔸𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕠

(request) Fernando Alonso x Fem!Wife!Reader Family Picnic <3333

Warnings: I did have to consult Google Translate for some of the Spanish

2k words

It was a good day. The sun was out, the temperature wasn’t too hot and the breeze was nice and cool. It would’ve been a crime if you didn’t take advantage of the beautiful weather.

You shook your husband beside you. He grumbled half awake, turned over and tried to go to sleep again. You rolled your eyes at him. No matter what Fernando said to the contrary, he was getting old and as much as he didn’t like it, it definitely showed. You knew there was only one other way to make sure that Fernando was awake and out of the bed.

“If you don’t get up right this second, I’m not going to let you touch me until the next F1 season.” You grunted while using as much of your strength as you could to push him off the bed. He landed on the ground with a loud THUD.

“Hijo de puta!” He exclaimed as he hit the floor. [Motherfucker!]

“Oye! Watch your mouth, your kids are in the next room!” If it wasn’t funny, you might’ve sounded more angry at his foul language. [Hey!]

“What did I do to deserve this?” Fernando peeked his head over the side of the bed, taking his sweet time getting up.

“If you had listened the first time I told you to get up, we wouldn’t be having this discussion, would we?” You asked, getting out of the bed and walking towards the ensuite. “Now stop whining, I need to get the kids up and ready. I have plans for today.”

“You’ve been spending too much time around my mother.” Fernando finally stood up, and went to grab a shirt from the closet. “You’re becoming just like her.”

“Good!” You shouted through the closed bathroom door. “Ana is an amazing woman!”

Fernando could only shake his head in amusement, as he made his way out of the bedroom and into the hallway leading him to his children’s rooms. He first went to the opposite end of the hallway, knowing it would be easier to wake up his oldest children first. He knocked on the furthest door and waited.

“Yeah?” Fernando could hear that his eldest daughter, Marcella, had only just woken up.

“Mamá has plans for today. Get dressed to go outside por favor.”

“Bueno! I’ll be out in a bit.”

Satisfied that Marcella was now awake and getting dressed, Fernando made his way to the next room. Knocking on the door, he wasn’t expecting for it to open. But apparently his son had other ideas.

“Sí Papá?” Fernando Jr was his father’s carbon copy. A fact that Fernando just loved mentioning whenever he could. So you could avoid the confusion when talking to them both, you had started calling your son Junior.

Fernando smiled and ruffled his son’s hair. “Your Mamá has something planned, so get dressed to go out.”

“Oye! I just brushed my hair!”

“You sound like your mother.” Fernando said as he walked off and towards the last door.

“Good! Mamá is amazing!”

Chuckling, Fernando gently opened the door that led to the nursery. He flicked the light on and stood in the doorway, just watching his twins’ little chests rise and fall as they slept. He almost didn’t want to wake them at all, but he knew that they would have the best time with whatever it was you had planned. Walking quietly he moved further into the nursery. Softly caressing their faces, Fernando woke them up as gently as he could.

“Hola Pequeños. Buenos Días.” He made sure to keep his voice quiet when he saw their eyes open. [Hey Little Ones. Good morning.]

“Hola Papá.” said his youngest daughter, Magdalena. Her little voice was still riddled with sleep. She was lethargic as she crawled into her father’s arms, wrapping her tiny ones around Fernando’s neck as he rubbed her back.

“¿Dormiste bien, Princesa?” she nodded her little head, too tired to speak. [Did you sleep well, Princess?]

By now Magdalena’s twin, Pedro, had sat up and was rubbing his eyes with his tiny fists. He yawned and also made his way onto his father’s lap.

“¿Dónde está Mamá?” he asked. [Where is Mummy?”

“¿Deberíamos ir a buscarla?” Fernando received two little nods so he wrapped an arm securely around each of the twins and slowly walked out of their room. [Should we go look for her?]

Fernando walked towards the kitchen where he could hear you making breakfast. He could see Marcella and Junior going to sit down at the kitchen island, talking to each other about what teams they thought were going to do well during the Formula 1 season.

Once everyone was done with eating breakfast, Marcella and Junior grabbed Pedro and Magdalena from their high chairs and went to help them change into some appropriate clothes for the day. Nando started cleaning up the breakfast dishes while you had gotten started on making some sandwiches.

“What’s on the agenda today, Mi Amor?” Fernando asked, placing the last clean dish on the drying rack.

“I was checking the weather for today before you got out of bed, and I’ve decided that we’re going to have a family picnic.” You replied, packing the sandwiches into ziploc bags and setting them aside. “I was thinking, we go to your parent’s house and ask if they’d like to join us.”

Fernando came up beside you and started to help prepare little snacks for your children. “You know if we go there and ask, my mother will insist we have it on their property?”

“Oh you think this plan is spontaneous?” The look on your face almost made Fernando nervous.

“It’s not?”

You laughed and bumped him with your hip. “Amor, Ana and I have been planning this outing for weeks. You and your father are the only ones who didn’t know. No doubt Ana has told José by now, just like I am telling you now.”

Moving to the fridge to grab some fruit that needed to be cut, you kept talking to him about the plan you had concocted with Ana.

“Your mother had called me the other week saying how she misses you because you’re always travelling with Formula One, so I told her you were home this weekend. We started planning pretty quickly after that. Originally the plan was for Lorena and her children to join us as well, but something came up so Lorena is out being a successful and wonderful mother. We were always going to go to your parents- wash and cut the strawberries please- because they have the most space for Junior and the twins to run around.

“And of course, Marcella will want somewhere with shade and that big awning over the pool and garden is just perfect for her. And your mother pointed out that at some point the twins will get tired so going to your parents’ means that the twins can sleep in the guest room there so we don’t have to leave and go home early.”

“Women scare me sometimes.” Fernando handed you the strawberries and you put them into a tupperware container before putting them in the basket you had found to put all the food in.

“Good. It’s a healthy fear to have.” You said before yelling out to the kids that it was time to go.

Junior ran down the stairs holding Pedro while Marcella followed behind him with Magdalena at a much slower pace.

“Junior, don't run with your brother, you could drop him.”

“Lo siento Mamá.” Junior said sheepishly. [Sorry Mum.]

You opened your mouth to speak again but before you could, your phone started ringing in your pocket. Pulling it out, you saw it was Ana calling you. With a smile on your face you quickly answered the call.

“Hola Ana! … Claro si-” You had begun walking to your office while you spoke with your mother in law. Fernando grabbed Pedro from Junior and had started ushering the children out to the car. [Hello Ana! … Of course yes-]

Marcella had become a professional at getting the twins in the car when you weren’t around, and Fernando was forever confused at how she had managed to get them to listen. Fernando had even asked her one day how she managed it but all she did was give him a wink and continued to do her schoolwork.

Just as Fernando closed Marcella’s car door, you walked out of the house, phone and picnic basket in hand. When you got closer to the car, Fernando grabbed the picnic basket and put it in the boot of the car. Walking back, he opened and closed the passenger door for you before getting into the driver’s seat.

The drive to Fernando’s parents wasn’t an extremely long journey. The 30 minute drive was spent listening to your young children blabber on about the scenery or about the kids at school.

The only one of your children who wasn’t talking often was Marcella. The 16-year-old was texting on her phone with a smile on her face. Fernando had looked in the rearview mirror at her.

“Who are you texting Cariño?”

Marcella’s smile dissipated. “No one.”

“Are you sure? You were smiling pretty big.”

“It was no one Papá.”

“I just want-” You smacked Fernando’s shoulder. You had spoken about how to approach this kind of situation years ago, when you had been pregnant with Marcella. Fernando went to start complaining but you interrupted him.

“No, you will stop talking. If Marcella is texting someone, it is not our business.” You turned as much as you could in your seat to look at your daughter. “However, I do have two questions about them. One, how old are they? And two, do they make you happy?”

Your daughter smiled at you, “They’re only a month older than me and they make me very happy.”

“Then that’s all I care about.”

Eventually you arrived at your In-Law’s. Everyone got out of the car and your children ran to the front door where their grandparents were waiting with arms open, ready for hugs.

You greeted your father-in-law with a hug and a kiss to both his cheeks. You laughed when he made a joke about putting Fernando to work, getting the things from the car.

“Of course! He’s been annoying lately so he’s got to make up for it.”

You gave José one more hug before greeting Ana and walking inside with her. You heard Jose say something to Fernando that made you giggle.

“You know, ‘Happy Wife, Happy Life’ isn’t just a saying, right?”

By the time the men had made it to the backyard, you and Ana had laid out the big picnic blanket and started making the drinks for the adults to enjoy. Fernando would have one drink at the beginning before sticking to water for the remainder of the day as he would be driving home. Ana had taken the basket from Fernando and began to set out the food you had prepared. You had finished the drinks and handed them out, rolling your eyes when you heard Fernando talking to his father about what happened in the car earlier with Marcella.

“Fernando, I swear if I hear you talking about this again, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

“I just wanted to make sure she was being careful! That’s my little girl.” He said, thanking you for the drink before turning to his dad. “What would you have done, Papá?”

“Don’t involve me. I had no issues with Lorena.”

“Mi Amor, do you remember when we were teenagers and I spent two weeks living with you and your family?”

“Of course I remember. Two of the best weeks of my life.” He smirked and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Yeah well, I spent those two weeks not speaking to my father because he kept asking me about my ‘secret boyfriend’. He never stopped asking about you so I stopped talking to him for two weeks. And I’m stubborn so if my mamá hadn’t knocked some sense into him, I would have never spoken to him again. Do you really want that with Marcella?”

Fernando looked a little heartbroken and ashamed of how he had treated the situation. He had known that something had happened between you and your father but he didn’t realise it was like that.

“I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if she stopped talking to me.”

“So don’t push her. She will come to us when she’s ready.” You said, squeezing him in comfort. “Now let’s put this out of our minds and enjoy a picnic with our children. Vamos.”

This took me so long 😭😭😭 I wanted to make sure I was 100% happy with it

This definitely would've been so much bigger but I didn't want to make everyone wait even longer.

As always, likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

(also do you guys think it would be a good idea for me to set up a paypal or a kofi for my fics? I've been thinking about it a lot recently but idk)

#formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #formula one #formula 1 #fernando alonso fic #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x y/n #fernando alonso #fernando alonso imagine #fa14 x reader #fa14 imagine #fa14 x you #fa14 x y/n #fernando alonso x you #fa14 fic #fa14

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kombuuuu · 9 months

Note

Requesting a little drabble on reader being on their period and miles takes care of them🙏

HEADCANONS AND SNIPPETS RAAAHHHHH

u asked my babydoll 🤭🫶

UGHHHHH. do i have to set the standard SO HIGHHH BROOO

—

would so be the type to download a period tracker

he want to know exactly when to make sure he’s free, there’s no way he’s letting you suffer without him there, no matter how major/minor your pains are.

he’d jump at the chance to take care of you

like this man is such a giver, it’s unreal

he’s a big massage believer, like is CONVINCED if you let him run your lower back that the pain will go away — he’s not wrong

he probably asked his ma how they worked, and what helped. and was really embarrassed by it, cause he checked google, and a lot of it just said sex LMFAO

his ma probably laughed at that, telling him those articles were all written by someone’s unique experience, and that they’re all different. then gave him a list of things you might like

ie, gifts, food, comfort, sleep — telling him it all really depended on you. he made note of everything she said, and the first time you ignored him for two days — he showed up with a bunch of roses, and a gift basket full of things you loved.

“Surprise?”

“Wh—.. Honey, are you crying?!”

“Nuh uh…”

“Mami, I can see the tears.”

“No you can’t,” *sniffle* “,You’re insane. Crazy.”

“Oh, pretty — C’mere.”

my man LOVES to do skin care with you, so that basket had like 12 face masks slipped in the sides. he thought he was sly, he wasnt

definitely cooks for you. will never let you eat anything inadequate, and if you want junk food, he’s getting his spider suit out and RUSHING

he’s the perfect man im gonna end it (ME END ME)

bigger drabble under cut

Miles’ footsteps were the only thing he could hear throughout the apartment.

Your family out to their everyday activities, but you weren’t. You hadn’t shown to school, nor texted him midway through class if he’d want to go graffiti the Police department — to which he’d remind you he can’t, his dad would kill him — or even begged him to get you food at an ungodly hour.

None of it, you’d gone completely MIA.

So, naturally, he broke into your apartment. Slipping in through your mothers window, which she always leaves slightly open, and strolling through your apartment like he lived there.

He strained his ears, his hearing being rather advanced due to the bite, but still heard nothing but soft breath. Well, you were alive.

“Conejita? You awake?”

He pressed his palm flat to your door and slowly twisted the knob, opening it in slow movements as to not make much noise.

He was graced by the sight of you, curled tight in on yourself with tear tracked cheeks, puffed up and shiny. Your eyes were closed, passed out from exhaustion, but the way your eyelashes clung to each other was a tell you hadn’t been sleeping for long.

“Oh, baby..”

Miles crouched in front of your bed, pausing the show you’d been watching on your phone and clipping it on charge for when you wake.

He watched you shift, pressing a hand to your uterus subconsciously, and the times clicked.

He made a face, something akin to anger, pulled out his phone and turned off DND. The immediate notification for the period tracker he had installed was frightening.

He cursed at himself, giving you a worried glance before he rushed out of the room. Making sure to quietly close everything behind him, and leaving your Ma’s window cracked slightly open.

—

“Hey, Chiquita — wake up, baby.”

“Wh—.,” You opened your eyes slowly, blinking at the harsh light of golden hour. “What..,”

Turning to your side again, you dragged a hand over your eyes and rubbed, checking to see who it was that woke you.

“Miles?”

“Hey, Mami.”

He watched you wake, glossy eyes baring up at him through a sleepy haze. “Hi..”

Your softened tone, and the way your lips curled softly, god he was swooning.

“Got you some things, Ma.”

Your eyebrows pinched but the smile stayed. “You didn’t have to do that, Miles.”

Shuffling the covers off of you, you sat up in your bed, suddenly realising how hot you were and letting your legs sit atop the covers.

“Oh, Please. Like I wouldn’t.”

“I know you do, it’s just—“

“Don’t even say to save, baby, cause this is what I save for.”

He gave you a pointed look, standing up from his crouched position with a foxy smirk and turning to your desk to grab the items. You playfully rolled your eyes, smacking his ass when he turned.

“Watch the hands.”

“Hypocrite.”

You watched him crowd over your vanity, patting the bed for your phone and giving him a curious look. You realised it was on charge, and smiled to yourself before he turned.

In his hands were a bag of any snacks you could ask for, another from your favourite burger place, and the last filled with pain relief items, and of course, true to him, face masks and nail polish.

“Miles…”

“Oh, sweet thing, don’t cry—,”

“I can’t help it!”

“I know, I know, baby.”

He stepped forward, letting the bags rest in the middle of the bed and crawling to sit next to you, grabbing your face in his hand and leaning on the other — he pressed his forehead to yours. Giving you loving pecks wherever his lips dragged.

“C’mon, Conejita. How ‘bout we eat? Then I can make you feel better with a massage?”

He parted from your face and rubbed his thumb along your waterline, dipping to kiss away at your tears.

When he pulled back again he watched your goofy smile grow, and his heart warmed. “Yeah— Okay.. You know you don’t have—,”

“Don’ even finish that sentence.”

“Pff— Whatever.” You pouted at him with a playful smile, the glint in your eye challenging. He rolled his eyes and a smile played of his own.

“I got your favourite—,”

“We should marry.”

—

+BONUS!!!!

“You feel pretty yet?”

“I feel beautiful.”

Miles twirled in the mirror, the matching panama’s he’d found at Target had you both ditching the clothes you were wearing for the stupid spiderman themed pyjamas.

“I mean— The nails? Professional.”

You giggled at him from the bed and he watched to live for that sound to be the last thing he hears, old and greying with you.

“Mhmm, even with all the smudges?”

“I think they add charm.”

You scoffed at him with playful eyes. And pet your face to readjust the face mask.

“Come here, Mimi, gotta fix your mask.”

He shuffled over to you, standing over your and letting your deft fingers run over his face. “You think you’d be good at wearing masks by now.”

“Oh low blow, baby.” He pinched your arm softly and you smiled at him, all domesticity and love and god, he’d be overwhelmed if he didn’t feel the exact same for you.

“[Name], I love you. You know that, yeah?”

You pulled him down by his neck, giving him a peck through your masks and sighed dreamily. “Yeah, know it so well.”

He pushed your chest, gentle fingers coaxing you to lay down, “Love you, too.”

He laid beside you, and you curled up into him. Watching as he grabbed your phone and opened it to start up the show again.

You let your eyes trail his features, before turning back to your phone. Missing how he did the same.

#໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა #across the spiderverse #miles morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #spiderverse x reader #miles x reader #miles my beloved #miles morales x you #miles 1610 #atsv miles #miles morales headcanons #miles morales x y/n #miles morales hcs

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biteofcherry · 2 years

Note

but mafia!steve PLS 🫠🔥🫠🔥😌

Nesting

mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: soft!dark Steve Rogers; mafia!Steve Rogers; possessive behavior; forced relationship; unplanned pregnancy;

~ * ~

With a smile on your face, you tucked the envelope inside your handbag. A precious picture you were so scared to see at first, but now it filled you with warmth and love.

Well, your morning sickness definitely didn’t fill you with any positive feelings, but the doctor said they should lessen in a few weeks, once you start your second trimester. It was all still so new, so fragile to consider its development. But you already hoped for the best.

You tossed into the bin the paper towels with which you wiped the ultrasound gel off your belly and put your jacket on. The nurse waiting outside smiled at you, gave you a stack of leaflets and a list of necessary appointments.

She directed you to the main reception, so you could book the next needed one.

Just as you were writing down in your calendar the date of the next ultrasound, the lady behind the desk remembered something and said to you:

“Oh, I almost forgot! Your husband is waiting for you outside.”

You stared at her, confused. She had to mistake you for someone else, clearly.

“Husband? I don’t-”

“Yes.” She beamed. “Handsome fellow, but it seems he’s just as scared of clinics as the rest of men.” She laughed.

“You sure he’s here for me?” You asked hesitantly, an idea of who might it be already forming in your head. Terrifying you.

“I’m sure. He gave all the information on you.” The woman’s face flashed solemn, her tone professional as she assured you of the thorough check. “I admit, even my own mom sometimes forgets what year I was born in.”

“Thank you.” You forced out a smile, but your heart was hammering in fear.

You have no idea how he found you. Even less how he got so much detailed information about you. But then again, you shouldn’t be surprised now that you knew who he was.

Steven Grant Rogers.

The ruthless head of the New York mafia who was more lethal than a viper already sinking its teeth in your ankle.

And who, to you, was just a very hot man you hooked up with a month and half ago.

You met Steve in a fancy club your friends booked a booth at - apparently it was a club so exclusive getting a booth in it was nearly impossible. Now you understood why.

You’re not sure why you caught his attention when there were so many beautiful women in the place that night. But three flutes of Prosecco in and you were bolder than usual. You agreed to accompany him in his VIP booth while your friends went crazy on the dancefloor.

He disarmed you with his focus on you, his eyes never straying to any other woman. A charming gentleman who made you melt with the few moments of movie-like fairytale feeling.

And when he whispered into your ear how he wants to eat you out until you pass out from pleasure, you almost spread your legs for him right there in the club.

Steve took you to his place - an elegant penthouse, in a building you later learned belonged to him. A one night stand turned into whole weekend of him fucking you senseless and spoiling you with fancy food delivered to his apartment.

He also made you do the most depraved things; no one else has ever made you come just from fingering your ass and talking dirty to you.

Like he promised each time he was buried in your cunt, Steve filled you to the brim.

You leaked his cum even as you got home late on a Sunday afternoon - Steve’s driver dropping you off in front of your modest flat.

The result of his filling woke you up a few weeks later, making you vomit your guts out each morning. With your period being unusually late there was only one explanation.

At first, after you confirmed the pregnancy with your doctor, you planned on telling Steve. One night or not, he had a right to know. But you didn’t have his number, nor did you remember the exact address where he lived. So you googled him.

And the articles made your head spin.

You thought it’s a misunderstanding. Just a coincidence, but then one of your friends complained to you about her boyfriend - a cop - being angry that you went to a mob-owned club.

Further prodding revealed that The Shield club belonged to Steven Rogers himself.

You could no longer fool yourself with coincidences and similar names. In an instant you made a decision to never put your foot anywhere near the club and to hide from everyone who exactly was your baby’s co-creator.

So as you kept it to yourself, building a lie (not so far from the truth) about it being a result of a reckless one night stand, you started to forget about the real father. Sometimes you even calmed yourself by repeating he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with it anyway.

But there couldn’t be anyone else claiming to come for you by posing as your husband. And Steve had the influence to learn all the details about you, if he wished.

You cast a glance at the main entrance. He was waiting for you there. To do who knows what to you.

If he didn’t want the baby being born and you refused to get rid of it… a man like him would simply get rid of you to erase the problem.

Perhaps you didn’t stand a chance against the power of someone like Steve Rogers, but you could try saving yourself and postponing the inevitable. For a little while, at least.

Pivoting on your heel, you went in the opposite direction. You didn’t know if there’s a back exit and you feared asking anyone, but the restroom you used earlier had a window facing the park and it was only on the high ground floor, so the risk was minimal.

You smiled at a woman who was washing her hands when you entered and pretended to lock yourself in the stall. When you heard the door closing after her, you left the stall and opened the window.

You dropped your bag first, then sat on the windowsill and swung your legs over it. Carefully, you lowered yourself down, hands clutching onto the edge. You took a deep breath and let go, landing softly on your feet without much trouble.

“Shouldn’t be doing that in your state, sweetheart.”

A smooth voice startled you.

A familiar voice.

You could still recall the praises he moaned in your ear when you trembled beneath him.

You turned around sharply, heart jumping to your throat as you faced him.

Steve stood a few steps away from you, his back resting against the side of the sleek, black car parked on the sidewalk. Dark aviators shaded his blue eyes, but you knew he was watching you like a hawk, ready to react if you fled.

You frowned, surprised to see him here, considering the receptionist told you your husband was waiting at the front.

You looked in the direction where he was supposed to be. Steve’s chuckle drew your attention back to him.

“Fawns like you are predictable.” He said with a smirk.

“Now, come on,” he called your name as he moved to the side, opening the car door, “get inside.”

You didn’t even stir. You simply couldn’t, frozen in place out of fear and shock. A thought of running passed through your mind, but you were never a fast runner and you predicted Steve would be more pissed if he had to chase you.

That he would catch you was undeniable. With his long legs and stamina that drove you into almost passing out a few times.

Steve sighed when you didn’t follow his order.

Unhurriedly, he walked over to where you trembled, plastered against the coarse, concrete siding of the building. He crouched down to pick your bag then slowly straightened.

Fuck, you didn’t remember him being this tall and broad.

Steve slid his aviators down to the tip of his nose, his icy blue eyes piercing through you. He traced the shell of your ear with a single digit, then trailed it along your jaw. He pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger before saying firmly:

“Get in the fucking car, sweetheart.”

This time you obeyed. He gave you no other choice as he guided you with his hand pressed against the small of your back.

You slid onto the backseat, curling in the corner against the opposite door. Steve got in right behind you. The moment he closed the door on his side the locks clicked in, trapping you inside with him.

The partition between you and the driver was pulled up, though you assumed Steve’s men were loyal to him enough not to react to a woman screaming for help.

“How do you find this clinic?” Steve simply asked, dropping your handbag on the seat on his other side. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to reach it without having to pass him.

“What?” You stared up at him, confused.

“I’ve heard it��s good, but I can get you into a top-shelf place.” While you were tense and strung up, Steve sat next to you completely relaxed. He took his sunglasses of, spread his legs wider.

You wrapped your arms protectively around your midsection, tears stung beneath your eyelids as you considered the potential meaning of his words.

“I’m keeping the baby!” you blurted out. Right that instant you knew you were ready to fight till your last breath to save your child.

Steve cocked his head to the side as he looked at you, a twisted warmth filling his eyes and making his smile even more charming.

“As you should.” He praised you.

He reached for you, wrapping an arm around your back and pulling you to his side. With his other hand he swatted your arms away from your belly and spread his fingers over the curve that would soon start swelling.

“You’ll give me more, too.” Steve hummed, his eyes glued to where his hand laid.

You were speechless. Initial fear of being forced to lose the baby turned into a completely new terror.

Steve’s words didn’t cut your life short, but they built a long, gilded-cage waiting for you.

“It’s about time I started nesting.” Steve chuckled, his hand moving to cup your chin and tilt your head back. “I don’t mind doing it with a sweet, little bird like you.”

He pressed his lips against yours gently, almost sweetly, as if he was a tender lover doting on his beloved. Then his tongue teased the seam of your mouth. When you didn’t open right away he bit your bottom lip, making you gasp and forcing his tongue inside.

You told yourself it was fear and adrenaline, but your nipples hardened and your pulse quickened.

“First things first-” Steve pulled away.

He took one of your hands and brought it to his lips, peppering kisses on each of your knuckles.

“We have to get you an engagement ring and order wedding bands as well.”

“Steve, I don’t understand-” your heart pounded so fast it rushed blood to your head and made you dizzy.

He intertwined your fingers and brought your clasped hands to his chest, just as he slipped his other hand to grip the back of your neck firmly.

“You’re mine.” He announced without remorse. “You became mine the moment I took you home. Now you’re going to be mine in every other way.”

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