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mavrintarou · 2 months

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[4:38 PM] Oikawa Toru [8]

A long-awaited chapter, thank you for being patient with me. Happy March everyone.

Warning: angst & hurt, smut

Seventh part Nineth part

“Teo, when do you think Y/n would be back?” Toru asked his son who was busy suckling his four fingers. He was drooling incredibly the last couple of days, having to go through three or four outfits in one day.

At the sound of Y/n’s name, the baby looked up and his eyes searched the room.

“She’s not back yet, but her appointment is taking longer than expected.” Toru sighed in disappointment. Even though he saw her about two hours ago, he missed her.

Not just physically…

He chuckled to himself, feeling like a teenager all over again.

He’s having the most sex in his life in the last couple of weeks. Toru believed he may have a problem.

A problem of not being able to keep his hands off of her. Or from being inside of her.

It’s astonishing how quickly they’ve grown close in such a short span. While it doesn’t compensate for the time that slipped away between them, he had a lifetime ahead to make amends, forging new memories to replace the lost time.

For a while, he bore the weighty burden of fearing that Y/n might find being with him and Mateo overwhelming, prompting her to consider leaving. However, with each passing day, she unwittingly reassures him that she desires him, that she wants to be with the both of them.

His heart fills with warmth witnessing their togetherness. It nearly overflows when strangers compliment them on what a beautiful family they make.

That’s his deepest desire – to create a loving family with them.

“Feeling tired? Ready for a nap?” Toru inquired, observing Mateo’s yawn and weary eyes. Lifting his son, he reached for his blanket, attempting to swaddle Mateo in the manner Y/n usually does, but finding it challenging. “One second…” he coos as Mateo begins to whine, fighting against his father.

Toru steps back, hands on his hips as he lets out a frustrated sigh while Mateo is wailing at the top of his lungs. He is never like this with Y/n when she puts him down for a nap…

“Okay, okay,” he coos, picking his son up and rocking him. He grabs the blanket and Mateo immediately grabs it, hugging it tightly. He calms down but continues to fuss.

Something clicked in Toru’s head as he walked into his bedroom picked up one of Y/n’s worn shirts out of his laundry basket and brought it close to his son. He remembered reading that babies were sensitive to scent.

True to the theory, Mateo immediately clutched onto Y/n’s shirt and calmed down.

With a loud sigh, Toru continued to rock his son who soon closed his eyes and napped.

Carefully, he laid down on his bed with his son on his chest. Closing his eyes, he figured he might as well take a nap too with this son. After all, it’ll make time go by faster until Y/n returns.

Y/n opened her eyes, alerted when she heard cooing and nails clawing at her jaw. “Hey you,” she smiled at Mateo who woke up from his nap.

After her doctor's appointment, she took a long walk along the river to clear her mind.

“W – what?” Y/n uttered.

To the doctor’s suspicion, she had no idea. She inhaled and exhaled deeply before repeating herself, “you are pregnant, Y/n. Did you not know?” She looked down at the piece of paper with all her messy scribbles. “Earlier when I was asking you basic questions you told me that you noticed how you had a lack of energy, just physically tired and napped more than usual?” Y/n stared at her with a blank stare. “When I conducted your physical examination you flinched when I felt for any abnormal lumps in your breast and you noted that your breasts have been sensitive lately?”

And she was embarrassed that her doctor had seen the red hickies on her chest that were left from Toru.

“Yes,” Y/n barely whispered, “I remember.” She swallowed, she didn’t know why it did not click prior but now everything was beginning to make sense. “Are you sure I’m pregnant? I didn’t have any morning sickness. Isn’t that a clear indication that someone is pregnant?”

The doctor shook her head, “no, not every woman will experience morning sickness. Some women don’t experience until a little further in their pregnancy.” She can see the distraught patient before her, handling the news she was not expecting to hear. “I know you were not expecting this news at all. I can’t let you go until I’ve known you’re okay to leave.”

Y/n swallowed again, leaning forward onto her knees and covering her eyes.

“How… how far along am I?” Y/n finally asked after a few minutes of silence.

“We will have to do an ultrasound to get a better idea of how far along you are. Do you remember the last time you had your period?”

Y/n grabbed her phone and checked her application which tracked her period. Her breath hitched as she realized she had not been logging her period for two months, going on to three months.

She had completely overlooked it as she was occupied with her sudden lifestyle changes with Toru and Mateo.

She squeezed her eyes shut and muttered, “can I get an ultrasound done today?”

As she lay on the padded bed waiting for the nurse, Y/n has never felt so alone before.

Her hands were placed against her lower abdomen, she still could not believe that she was pregnant.

She was joyous at the news yet she was terrified.

When the technician came in and performed the ultrasound, she spoke softly, making all Y/n’s worries and doubts fade.

Y/n paid close attention to the technician’s words, and finally, she tapped on the screen. “Here they are,” she said excitedly, pointing to the circle shape on the screen. “There’s your baby, Ms. Y/L/n.”

Tears pooled in her eyes as she covered her mouth. She couldn’t take her eyes off her baby.

The joys and excitement she felt all disappeared when the nurse spoke, “I believe you are roughly eight to nine weeks along, but that’s not a definite answer…”

Y/n did the math in her head if she was more than eight weeks along… there was no doubt that the baby she was carrying was Woojin’s.

Y/n spent almost an hour sitting on the bench and staring blankly at the river.

“What happens now?” she muttered to herself.

She had just found a safe place, a home with the man she had been hopelessly in love with.

Yet now she is pregnant.

With another man’s baby.

Burying her face in her hands, she leans over her knees and groans.

When she returned home, their units were quiet. Dropping off her bag on the couch, she heads to Toru’s room, finding the two of them sleeping soundlessly.

She needed them, that was all she needed.

Carefully she crawled over and laid behind Toru, her arm slipped around his waist as she buried her face against his broad back.

“You’re home.”

Yes, she was home, home to Toru and Mateo. Y/n nodded, tightening her arm around his waist. “I’m tired too.”

Chuckling, he rests his hand over hers, intertwining their fingers together. “Okay, let’s nap together.”

Mateo’s slobber against your cheek brings you back to reality.

“Ahh Mateo,” Y/n giggled, picking up the baby. “Is that a kiss?”

The baby laughed brightly at her question.

“Oh awesome, you both are up,” Toru stood at the doorway of his bedroom wearing an apron. “Just in time, I finished cooking dinner.”

“Dinner already?” Y/n stood up with Mateo on her hip, walking towards Toru. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips but Toru was quicker and turned so their lips met. Y/n smiled and pressed another kiss against his lips. “I missed you.”

Toru’s smiled, “I missed you too.”

. .

Toru was no fool, he knew something was bothering Y/n.

Over dinner, he mentioned the unexpected visit from the building management. They had come to assess the damage, and the following week, a construction crew will be handling the repairs.

But it appeared that the conversation had entered one ear and exited the other. She seemed distant during dinner, raising concern for Toru.

He could discern from the graceful movements of her fingers on the piano keys that the piece she played was infused with deep emotions, as if she were pouring her heart and soul into the music notes, expressing everything through her melody.

He sensed that something had occurred during her visit the moment he felt her snuggle against his back. The way she embraced him, as if fearing his disappearance, and the trembling of her hand indicated that something had frightened her or weighted heavily on her mind.

Y/n’s finger hit the last note, ending the piece she played.

Toru could hear her soft exhalation, soft yet heavy.

He approached her from behind and gently gripped her shoulders, squeezing them in a massaging manner. “Are you… okay?”

Y/n nodded before tilting her head back to look up at him, “I love you.”

Toru’s breath hitched, these were the three words he had been eagerly awaiting from her.

He feels his life is completed, having Y/n by his side, and hearing her true feelings for him.

Y/n rose from her seat, perching on the piano bench, her height still a few inches shy of his. Tenderly, she cradled his face and leaned in to share a kiss. “Toru,” she mumbled against his lips, “make love to me… make me scream your name…”

Any other time, he would have loved to make her scream his name but something didn’t feel right. He was about to protest when she begged, “please, Toru… I need you to take my mind off it …”

His arms wrapped underneath her backside and lifted her, carrying her in the opposite direction of his bedroom. “Let’s go to your room, that way you can be as loud as you want.”

Surprisingly, Toru has never been inside Y/n’s room before. He led them blindly to her room as Y/n distracted him with kisses.

“I love you,” she murmured repeatedly.

Chuckling, Toru couldn’t contain his smile, “I know, I love you too.” He set her down on her feet and began undressing her, first with her jeans and then reaching for her shirt. His fingers found the clip to her bra, undoing it and tossing it aside. He dropped to his knees, lips trailing down her belly until they reached the elastic part of her panties. His eyes are at direct eye level with her abdomen and for a split second, he stares at her belly.

Y/n’s breath caught. As she looked down from her perspective, uncertain if her eyes were deceiving her, she noticed a subtle bump.

“Let’s take these off,” Toru whispered, tugging down her panties. “Be a good girl and get on your hands and knees on the edge of the bed.”

Spinning around, Y/n got on her bed that she had not slept on for a while and got into the position. She could hear him taking off his clothes.

Without warning, he slams into her. Y/n had to brace herself as he pounded deep and hard. “Yes!” she moaned loudly. “Harder!”

Toru increased his speed and density, slamming his hips against her and causing the room to echo with only their flesh slapping. A sense of greed and selfishness overwhelmed him, and suddenly, a possessive feeling took hold. Y/n’s subtle indifference earlier was making him anxious. Did something happen? His mind began to conjure up all possible worst-case scenarios.

He had to grasp onto her; if she harbored any doubts about him and his son, he was determined to do whatever it took to sway her thoughts. They needed her.

Toru wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her up and hugging her tight against his body. He continued to rut into her, needing her desperately.

“Love you… I love you so much, Y/n…” he nipped her skin at her shoulder. His teeth mark embedded into her delicate skin.

“Toru! Toru, oh God… I’m close… please…” Y/n turned to look over her shoulder. She pressed her lips to his, “cum inside me…”

He knows he shouldn’t but his body acted on its own accord. Y/n permitting him to cum inside her was all he could think about. His arms wrapped tighter around her as if to keep her forever next to him.

Y/n clenching around his cock and whimpering brought Toru over the edge as he came. His hips tremble and spasm as he ejaculates.

His head drops onto her shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.

In an instant, his ears perked as he heard something that twisted his heart. “Y/n?” He released his hold around her, withdrawing before turning her around to face him. His eyes widen, “what’s wrong?” He shifted in front of her and cupped her face, searching for an answer. “Did – did I hurt you?”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she gasped, shaking her head. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

Toru pulled her into his arms, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry if I hurt you… if I scared you…”

Y/n continued to shake her head, unable to speak a word as she cried quietly.

Feeling completely hopeless and useless, he only continued to hold her, murmuring sweet words to her.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/n eventually eased her turmoil. Her hands lay on his bare chest, sensing the rhythmic beat of his heart beneath her right palm – a sensation she wished to experience for the entirety of her life.

She loves this man. She loves Oikawa Toru.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” Toru whispered gently, pressing his lips against her forehead. “But if I am the reason behind those tears, all I ask is that you let me fix it… whatever I did… please – “ his voice choked, “I promise that I will never make you cry again…”

Y/n pulled away from his arms and sat up, at some point, Toru had laid them down on her bed. She looked down at him and reached to brush his hair away, “it is not you, Toru.”

He wished to trust her, yet a part of him still clung to the belief that he was still the reason behind her tears.

“The truth is…” Y/n took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut for a brief moment. “I am pregnant.”

Toru sat up abruptly, his voice faltering at her statement.

Her head bowed, and he sensed her shame. “I… I don’t think it’s your baby.”

. . .

E/n: I'm hurting everyone :(

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#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu oikawa toru #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa angst #oikawa smut #oikawa x y/n #haikyuu x y/n

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heavenlyvision · 3 months

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Roommates

Pairing: Kenshi Takahashi x F!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: This was not meant to be this long, I am sorry !!! I know I am meant to be writing for Johnny but Kenshi calls my name and whispers sweet nothings to me (I’m relentlessly horny for the yakuza man). Anyways, it's not my best work but ENJOY !!! <33

Summary: When your roommate is out of town, you go clubbing to look for some companionship. When you strike out, you get an unexpected offer that you’re lightly hesitant to accept.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, mentions of creepy men, minor mention of violence (single punch), mentions of alcohol, dirty talk, p in v sex, creampie, omg… they were roommates, Kenshi (he’s his own warning), no use of y/n, I think that’s all !

MDNI

It’s Friday night and you’ve had a hard time at work lately, it doesn’t help that Kenshi has been gone all week and won’t be back until Wednesday at the earliest. You miss him and you’re frustrated from work. So, when your friends invite you out to the club, your immediate response wasn’t to turn them down – like you usually did, instead you shocked both yourself and them by saying yes.

Now, you’re a bit tipsy and dancing the night away with your friends, you finally feel light after being weighed down by anxieties all week. Unfortunately, men ruin everything and one has come up behind you, grabbing at you to try and get you to dance with him. You attempt to shimmy away and tell him you’re uninterested but his hands grab onto you harder. He pulls you back into him and now you’re feeling scared, your heart rate has spiked and you feel like you’ve completely sobered up.

You turn around quickly, trying to loosen his grip on you, when you’ve successfully turned you smack him square in the nose and run away. Weaving through the large sea of people, you’ve lost track of your friends and you don’t remember when that happened anymore. Maybe you were drunker than you thought.

Reaching the exit, you stumble out onto the street, it’s still busy and bright, people moving along the strip to get into all kinds of different clubs. You pull out your phone to try and get an uber home when you see a heap of missed calls from Kenshi. Your heart jumps, worried for him but as you go to call him back, your phone rings in your hand, he’s calling again.

Your words rush out as soon as you pick up, “Are you okay?”

He breathes a sigh of relief on the other end, “Are you? I come home early and I can’t find you anywhere at nearly midnight and you won’t pick up your phone.”

“…Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be home so early.” You feel badly, you didn’t mean to worry him.

“Neither did I,” he pauses for a moment, “Where are you?”

“Just… out with some friends,” you cringe at your half-truth, “I’m coming home right now.”

He sounds unamused, definitely able to tell you’re lying, “Do you need me to come get you?”

“No, I’m okay, I’ll get an uber or something,” your eyes wander the streets, a group of men are approaching and you shrink in on yourself.

Kenshi doesn’t like the idea of you getting in an uber alone, “Where are your friends? Can’t one of them take you home?”

“They’re still inside, I’ll tell you about it when I get home,” the group of men that pass by whistle and cat call you, your face pulls up in disgust at it but you continue talking, “I shouldn’t be that long–”

“–I’m going to come get you,” his tone is strained, you know he’s heard the men accost you.

His offer makes your heart swell but you tell him, “Kenshi don’t, it’ll take longer, just let me get an uber. I’ll be home super soon… okay?”

“Fine but if you aren’t home in 20 I’m coming to get you… and turn your location on,” he grumbles out, giving in to your logic.

“Yessir,” you joke at him.

“Don’t call me that,” he does not find you funny.

You pout at him, “You’re so mean to me.”

“Order your uber and get home safe,” he retorts before hanging up on you, not wanting you to talk to him any longer. The longer you stay on the phone with him, the longer it takes for you to get home.

You chuckle at his frustrations with you, he’s simultaneously so patient and impatient with you. Even though he’s a little short with you, he’s a good roommate and friend and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

.𖥔˖ִ ₊ ⊹˚

The uber came pretty quick, you get back to your shared apartment safe and within the 20 minutes he gave you. When you walk through the front door he’s quick to come up to you, he had been waiting for you on the couch.

His hands gently move over you, double checking you’re okay, “You smell like vodka.”

“I’m sober, the night started good but ended up blowing. The buzz was ruined after that,” you huff.

His hand holds yours; his thumb lightly brushes your knuckles and you intake a sharp breath, “What happened?”

“Mmm, some jackass grabbed onto me and I had to swing and run,” you’re dismissive, not really all that worried about it anymore, “I hadn’t realised I hit him that hard.”

His frown is deep, “Where were your friends?”

“I don’t know, dancing I guess. We just sorta lost track of each other,” you lean into him, your forehead rests on his chest, “I’m glad you’re home, it’s been lonely.”

“I don’t like your friends,” he’s blunt, straight to the point about it.

“They’re alright,” you defend.

Kenshi disagrees, “They do this every time you go out with them, they leave you behind.”

That is true, they have a tendency to forget about you when you all go out together but it’s not a huge deal. It’s not like they do it purposefully, you all get a little drunk is all.

“Not always,” you argue.

“Yes, always,” he’s not interested, especially since he knows the truth, “Why did you go out tonight anyways? You don’t even like clubbing that much.”

You don’t tell him the whole truth; you had been intending to get laid. Having a good one-night stand was something you were hoping would help with your stress levels. Your vibrator hasn’t been cutting it lately and with Kenshi away you thought tonight would be the perfect time but after his unexpected return and that creepy guy, you’re happy it didn’t work out.

You settle for a half truth, “I was bored and lonely, plus this week sucked,” you push off his chest and look up at him.

He snickers down at you and teases, “Miss me that much?”

Maybe it’s the small amount of alcohol swimming in your head but you don’t even try and deny it, “Yes.”

He scoffs at you, “Go to bed, you need to sober up more.”

You shake your head at him, “I don’t wanna sleep, you’re home now, I wanna hang out with you.”

“Go hang out in your bed,” he counters.

You’re quick to say, “Only if you join me.”

“You’re annoying,” he comments.

You pretend to be really hurt as you ask him, “So, you didn’t miss me at all?” His expression is stoic, he’s completely unreadable, it’s even worse with the blindfold. “You’re hurting my feelings here, Ken doll.”

He doesn’t like that, “Don’t call me that.”

You groan and throw your head back, “You don’t let me call you anything.”

His brow raises, “You could call me by my name?”

You jeer at him, “Boooo, boring!”

“You’re impossible to deal with,” he groans and walks into the kitchen.

You follow after him, “I think I’m entirely possible actually.”

He ignores you and fills a glass with water, he hands it to you once it’s full, “Drink that.”

Your face pulls up at him but you take the cup and drink it, “You’re quite crabby tonight.”

“I am annoyed,” he replies simply.

You speak into the rim of the glass, “Why are you annoyed, Ken doll?”

“I was worried about you,” is all he says, no further elaboration. Though it’s not really needed, you know he gets a little bit concerned when you go out with those friends.

“Awe, you worry about me,” you poke at his face, trying to lighten his mood.

He groans and his head rolls back, moving away from your prodding, “You should go to sleep.”

“Fine but not because you told me to,” you place the glass in the sink, “I am choosing to go to bed because I am tired.”

“Mhm,” he hums at you, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You walk off down the hall to your room, calling back to him, “If you’re lucky.”

.𖥔˖ִ ₊ ⊹˚

When you wake up it’s late morning but at least it’s still morning, small wins. Kenshi isn’t home when you wander around looking for him, you shrug off his absence and have a shower. You feel grungy from last night and find yourself wishing you had showered before bed.

By the time you’re clean and ready for the day, Kenshi is home and in the kitchen, “I got you a coffee,” he nods at the to-go cup on the bench.

“Thank you,” You reach over and take it.

He asks you, “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m fine, I hadn’t drank that much last night,” you stand idly, watching him sip at his own coffee. You aren’t sure if you’re imagining it or not… but he seems annoyed, well more specifically, he seems annoyed at you. “Are you mad at me?”

His reply is sharp, “I’m not mad.”

“You seem mad,” you insist.

“You’re gonna make me mad,” he retorts, his fingers pinch at the bridge of his nose, “I’m not mad at you, I just… don’t like when you go out while I’m away.”

“I’m always fine though and I rarely go out as it is,” you’re trying to make him feel better but you don’t think it’s working.

He doesn’t reply but his mouth pulls up in a scowl and he grumbles a sound of acknowledgement.

You walk around the counter and shimmy between him and the bench, so you’re directly in front of him, “Why is this worrying you so much?”

“You worry me and it’s not like you have a great support system when you go out,” he isn’t wrong, which is somewhat bothersome.

You pat his shoulder, “You need to stress less, It’s all good, Ken doll.”

He leans forward, his hands rest on the bench either side of you, effectively caging you between him and the counters, “Don’t call me that.”

He’s being weird, you don’t know why he’s so worried about you all of a sudden. He’s always been ‘protective’ over you but that always felt more casual, this feels a bit out of the blue, “Why are you so worried about this? You’ve never been so concerned.”

He frowns at you, “I’ve always been this concerned, I’ve just never said anything.”

“Oh.” It seems he has reached a sort of breaking point.

He tries asking you again, seemingly knowing you lied to him last time you answered, “Why did you go out last night anyways?”

He can’t see you but you shy away anyways, your eyes look away from him, “I told you last night.”

“No, you lied last night,” his head tilts at you slightly.

How he manages to know, you aren’t sure. It’s become an annoying talent of his, knowing when you’re lying, “I don’t know what you mean.”

He leans the smallest bit closer, “You are a poor liar.”

“I’ve never lied a day in my life,” you lie.

He doesn’t move or say anything, from how exposed you feel right now, you could swear he can see you. It feels like he’s staring you down… and it’s working.

You groan at him, “Kenshi, it’s not a huge deal, I went out to have fun and maybe… get laid,” you trail off, feeling embarrassed before adding, “but things didn’t work out that way.”

He’s completely unreadable right now, he doesn’t have a single tell, “You went out last night for a one-night stand?”

You’re facing him properly again, “Yeah but then no one really caught my eye and that guy was grabby and the night was ruined, plus you were home so I’m glad I didn’t bring anyone back.”

“Is that what you meant by ‘you were lonely’.”

Your face grows warm and you want to squirm into a heap on the floor, why is he asking so many questions, “Well… yes and no?”

His fingers grip the counter a little tighter, his frown deepens, “What would you have done if I were home?”

You aren’t sure what he’s asking, “I don’t–”

“–Would you still go out to the club or would you have asked me?” He clarifies.

You think you know what he’s asking now but you want to be clear, “Asked you what?”

He’s quick to reply, wanting you to catch on quicker, “To sleep with you–”

That doesn’t seem like it’d bode well for your friendship, “I don’t think that’s really–”

“–Cause I’d do it, in a heartbeat,” he’s resolute, completely certain.

You’re at a complete loss for words, he’s just told you he’d sleep with you and you’d think he was just teasing you if he wasn’t so steadfast. He shows no signs of joking and you have no idea how to reply to him.

“Stop playing around,” your tone is nervous, you’re trying to give him an out.

He doesn’t take it, “Princess, I’m being so serious.”

Your knees feel like they might give out, he’s flirted with you before and even then it had an effect on you. To have him in front of you, telling you he’s seriously willing to fuck you, is going to kill you. The nickname isn’t lost on you, usually when he calls you that, he’s teasing you by calling you delicate or sensitive, the change in context makes your heart skip a beat.

“Kenshi–”

“–Would you let me fuck you?” He’s unmoving, waiting for your answer.

A shiver runs down your spine at the low timbre of his voice, it’s not like you’ve never considered it, you just never thought he was interested, “Now?”

A large, wicked smile grows on his face, “Do you want me to fuck you right now?”

He’s crude and it’s arousing you, he’s always been blunt but this is different, you’ve never shared a moment like this with him, “Would you?”

“I would, like I said, in a heartbeat,” his leg slots between yours, pinning you closer to the kitchen counters.

He’s effectively worked you up and made you comfortable enough to ask, “Then… could you? Please?”

His smile is evil, ecstatic that you’ve asked, “Of course I could, princess,” one of his hands moves to your hip, holding you. “First, I have a yes or no question for you.”

“Okay…” You’re hesitant, you don’t know what he’s going to ask.

His leg slots higher, thigh pressed to your cunt, “Did you feel the need to get laid because your little vibrator wasn’t cutting it anymore?”

You gasp, both at his question and the sudden contact, “How did–”

“The walls aren’t all that thick, princess,” the hand on your hip encourages you to lightly rut into his thigh, “Can hear you sometimes.”

You feel beyond embarrassed knowing he’s heard you getting off, “It wasn’t enough”

“No, I bet it wasn’t,” he chuckles at you, “You got so fuckin needy you were gonna ask a stranger to fuck you, good thing I came home, hmm?”

Your hips grind down onto his leg, the stimulation shocking you. Your panties are well and truly drenched at this point, “Kenshi~”

“I’ll fuck you well, princess, I’ll give you what you need,” he leans down to you, his lips brushing yours, “But first, you have to take it.”

He takes your lips in his, unoccupied hand reaching up to hold your face, moving you how he pleases. You whimper into him, his tongue licks into your mouth. It’s hot and messy, he’s kissing you like he’s starved of you and it’s making you lightheaded. His hand paws at your hip before slipping into your pants, he reaches behind and grabs a handful of your ass. You moan into him, surprised by his rough touch.

When he pulls back, your lips are connected by a string of saliva, evidence of how messy he kissed you. Your mind is fuzzy and you whimper at him, mind filled with so many thoughts of him and his mouth. His thumb rubs over your mouth, spreading the mess more than cleaning it.

He hums at you in consideration, “Come with me,” he says, as he pulls you behind him into the lounge room.

You can’t help but stumble slightly, your legs wobbly from his lips. You feel stupid right now, you’re able to form thoughts but they don’t feel like your own. The only ones that do feel like yours are the ones imagining how he’d look tongue fucking you, or how he’d look when he cums.

He stops in front of the couch and then suddenly pulls his shirt off, you’re gobsmacked by the suddenness, “Undress,” he tells you, “Keep your panties on though.”

If you were a weaker person, even by just a little bit you would have fainted on the spot, “You’re bossy,” you mumble as you shimmy your pants off.

Kenshi undresses completely and sits on the couch behind him, his cock hard and resting against his abdomen. He’s patiently waiting for you to finish undressing, “You have no idea.”

You feel awkward, standing in front of him almost completely bare. He spreads his legs wider and you stand between them, patting his thigh he says, “Come on, don’t be shy, straddle me, princess.”

He’s doing this on purpose you could swear, you feel so hot in the cheeks and shy. He’s making you feel nervous and so horny. He’s working you up in a way that no one else ever has, “You say embarrassing things,” you comment.

“I’ve not even started,” he pats his thigh again, “Hurry up, got me aching for you here.”

You sit down on him and straddle either of his thighs, you’re holding yourself up on your knees, your hands reach out and hold onto his shoulders. One of his hands holds your hip, while the other runs over your panties, feeling how you’ve soaked them.

He groans at how wet you are, “Fuckin hell, all this because I kissed you?”

His teasing alone could make you cry, “Don’t be mean–”

“–I’m gonna be mean to you, princess.” His hand slips into your panties and through your folds, your fingers dig into his skin, a sigh passing your lips at his touch. “Gonna have you crying on my cock by the time I’m done with you.”

He plays with your cunt, fingers slipping through your slick folds. His cock twitches against his stomach, precum leaking from his tip and smearing itself against his skin. You mindlessly move your hips back and forth against his fingers, seeking more from him.

His hand pulls back and you whimper at him, he laughs, slightly amused at your neediness and slips your panties to the side, “Alright, sit down and take what you need.”

“Yessir,” you joke but his cock jerks in response and you smile to yourself at his reaction.

You take his dick in your hand and he chokes on a moan, you stroke him slowly, your hand collecting his mess of precum and spreading it over his length. Getting him slick with himself, he groans at you, his abs tense at the feeling of your smaller hand on him.

Hovering over him, you position his tip at your entrance, not pushing down but holding him pressed to you. Your cunt leaks on the head of his cock and he moans, his hands grip your hips, “Trying to let you do this yourself, princess but if you don’t hurry up… I’m gonna stuff you full and I don’t care if it’ll hurt.”

Your pussy jumps at his threat and he flops back onto the couch, his head hanging back on it, “You’re gonna kill me, you’re so fucking… wet and warm,” he’s mumbling mostly to himself.

Slowly, you start pushing down on him, the stretch is a lot, especially since it’s been so long since you last had sex. That and Kenshi may be the biggest you’ve attempted to take – not that you’re going to tell him that. You pull back and press down again, trying to fuck yourself open on the tip of his cock.

He groans under you, his brows pinched, thinking of anything he can other than how goddamn tight you are. He wants you to do this yourself but his patience is about to tear into shreds, it feels like it’s actively being put through a shredder. His thumb moves to your clit and rubs tight circles into it, trying to get you to relax enough to take him.

You whine at him, your hand on his shoulder gripping him tight. Taking a deep breath, you sink further down onto him, finally taking the tip and a little less than half of him. Your cunt quivers around him, throbbing. You feel like you could cry, the way he fills you is overwhelming and already so satisfying.

Your hand leaves his dick and holds onto his other shoulder, when you look at him, you can see how he’s clenching his jaw tight. His fingers dig into your hips, he’s trying so hard not to slam into you until you’re completely full. You’re gripping him so tightly, your pussy leaking down his shaft, you’re so warm and soft and he has a primal need to have you fucked full of him.

You slip further down him, gasped moans leaving you as you incrementally sit down, “Kenshi~”

He hums at you, his hands move up and down your body, gripping you anywhere he can reach, memorising you with his hands, “I said before, you have to take it.”

You understand now what he meant; he wants you to fuck yourself on his cock. He’s not going to help; he’s going to make you take it and you already know, it’s not going to be as good as if he were to just fuck you.

You go to complain, “It won’t–”

His hands grab your tits, playing with them, “–Won’t what?” He encourages.

You’re breathless, his fingers pinch and pull at your nipples and if it weren’t for your hands holding you up, you would’ve collapsed onto him, “It– uh– won’t feel as good.”

He smiles big at you, “I know.”

You whimper at him and in an attempt to get revenge, you slam the rest of the way down onto him. He moans loudly in shock; his arms wrap around you and tug you into his chest.

He speaks into your skin, “Holy fuck– nnghhf– You’re so fucking~” He can’t help how he holds you down and grinds up into you, “So wet~ bet you’re gonna be fuckin creaming all over my cock– nngh~”

You can only whinge into him, your slightly drooling onto his skin, feeling incredibly stupid at this very moment. His cock filling you so well, the stretch very welcome. You want to fuck down onto him but he’s holding you tight. His own thoughts lost in how your tight cunt is clutching him, he needs to grind into you right now, and you’re not going to stop him. Not that you want to.

He’s trying to collect himself, his head resting against your chest, he moves to the side and bites into the skin of your breast. It shocks you and your cunt clamps down on him, he groans into your skin before pulling back. His chest heaves up and down, his head thrown back on the couch, hands back to resting on your hips again.

“Fuck– alright, fuck yourself on my cock now, princess,” his voice is strained, laced in arousal.

You lift yourself up, beginning to ride him, the slow drag of your walls on his cock have Kenshi twitching inside you. He’s starting to doubt his ability to hold on to control while you fuck onto him, already borderline pussy drunk.

You bounce up and down his dick, it feels so good but it’s not enough, you want him to fuck you, you want to get railed, “Kenshi~ I need you –hah– to please –nngh– fuck me.”

“Cum first and then I’ll –hah– fuck you,” his head is lulled back, only focusing on the tight clutch of your cunt.

The room is filled with slick slapping noises, your pussy leaking into his lap. The lewd sounds have your face growing hot, your soft moans furthering your embarrassment, you can’t keep them in though, they slip from you before you even register that it’s you making those noises.

Kenshi grunts, “Making such cute noises, princess,” his abdomen muscles tighten and twitch, “Always make such –hah– cute sounds, can hear the way you whine when you’re fucking yourself –mmph– can hear the slick sounds of your cunt, God, you’ve got such a wet cunt, drive me mental –nngh–” He’s babbling almost incoherently, his comments only further your arousal, more slick leaking from you.

The longer you ride him, the more frustrated you get, you’re so close to the edge but can’t seem to get yourself to fall off it, “Kenshi please, help.”

Despite his ravenous need for you, he smiles evilly and says, “No.” You shed tears, actual tears at your frustration, a sob gets caught up with your moans and he smiles wider, “You crying about it, princess?”

“No,” you sniffle out.

He grabs your face and his thumb runs along your cheek, feeling your tears, “God you are, fuck.” His cock jerks inside you.

You continue trying to get yourself off, your orgasm floating just beyond your reach, Kenshi seemingly takes some pity on you, his thumb rubs into your clit. You switch from bouncing to grinding, grinding his cock into you, your heart stutters in your chest and you moan out his name.

Your cunt pulsates on him, your orgasm on the tip of your tongue, you collapse into him as you finally cum on him. Tears fall from your eyes and onto the skin of his shoulder as you finish. Kenshi groans at the vice like grip you have on him, his hand helping you to grind into him, riding out your high.

“There you fuckin go,” he practically growls at you.

He doesn’t give you a second to come down, he’s immediately fucking up into you, both his hands on your hips, moving you up and down his dick like a sex toy. His hips slamming up to meet your cunt on your way down. He groans more freely, getting lost in the feel of you.

You’re fucked dumb, essentially. Only able to drool and cry into his shoulder, moans and whimpers spilling from you. Sounds that Kenshi relishes in, loving how vocal you are, needing the sounds to make up for his lack of sight.

“You should come to me from –ngh– now on, if you wanna get fucked,” his words slur together slightly.

“Uh huh,” you agree easily, even if you have a hard time forming complete words.

He continues, “You gonna let me fuck you how you need, mmm? Have you creaming for me whenever you want?”

“…Yes.”

His chest vibrates with a growl, “How about when I need it? Gonna let me fuck your tight little cunt whenever I need it, princess?”

“Whatever you wan,” you mumble out, focusing mostly on the heavy drag of his cock against your walls, of the force he drives into you with.

He chuckles darkly at you, “You’re real fuckin agreeable when I’m stuffing you full of my cock,” he purrs, “Where’d that teasing nature of yours go, mmm?”

You hum at him noncommittally, not having an answer for him.

“Probably wherever your brain is, you’re fucked completely dumb right now, huh?” his tone is amused, enjoying immensely how cock drunk you are for him, “Guarantee no one else would make you feel this good, princess.”

As much as you want to refute that, you know he’s right. You’ve never felt this fucking good during sex, or this full. You’re creaming around him, white ring at the base of his cock. Your stomach is fluttering, already so close to cumming again. You feel so far gone; eyes rolled back in your head. Cunt gripping onto him, holding on for dear life. With how wet and sticky everything is, you may have to buy a new couch.

Kenshi can’t help but whine as he gets closer to finishing, “Can’t get over how slick you are, you’re fuckin– you’re sucking me right back in –nghh–”

You gasp against him, “Kenshi~ I’m gonna–”

“Go on, fuckin soak me, finish all over my cock again,” his hips slam up into you harder, faster, “God, please, fuck– wanna feel how fucking tight you grip me again, wanna hear the little whimpers you let out, finish on me again, princess,” his words are grit out from behind his teeth, trying like hell to hold off his own orgasm.

His nails bite into the skin on your hips, he’s starting to growl out whines next to your ear and they sound so delicious, your mind swimming with them, committing the noises to memory. He fucks into you a few more times before you’re clamping down on him and cumming so hard you see white, tears falling freely from the force of it.

Your pussy spasms on his cock, the feeling has Kenshi moaning loudly before he’s suddenly cumming with a bitten back whine, his cum pumps inside you, coating your walls. He has cum so much it leaks back down his cock and into his lap, your panties are thoroughly ruined, soaked in so much cum and slick.

You stay stuffed full of him, barely conscious and clinging to him, you’re dazed and lost in how good you feel after finally getting fucked well.

Kenshi’s arms wrap around you, holding you close to him, “Better?”

“Mhmm,” it is better, you feel so content right now.

He presses his lips to the side of your head and asks, “Not gonna go looking for one night stands again are you?”

You mumble out, “Would you even let me?”

He laughs before pressing a kiss to your cheek, “No, swear on my life your cunt was made for me.”

You snicker at him, “Whatever you want.”

“I should fuck you more often, you’re significantly less annoying after a good dicking,” he jokes… you think.

“You love it.”

He laughs lightly at you, not willing to agree verbally but he does enjoy your teasing. That might just be because he enjoys you though.

A quiet lulls over the pair of you, both holding each other close and coming down from your respective highs.

You remember something and you ask him, “Why did you ask me to keep my panties on?”

“I wanna keep ‘em, could be handy to have when I go away,” he says blasé, unashamed.

You groan at him in disgust but you can both feel the way your cunt lightly flutters on him. Thinking of him using your panties to jerk off arouses you more than you wish it would.

Kenshi laughs knowingly, “I’ll let you watch.”

.𖥔˖ִ ₊ ⊹˚

A/N: I hope you enjoyed !!! Like I said, not my best work but I had to purge the Kenshi brain rot before doing anything else <3 My inbox is open for thoughts or questions but I am not taking requests at the moment, I have too many 😭 Anyways, I hope you all have a good day/night !!!

#mk1 smut #smut #fanfic #kenshi takahashi smut #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi #kenshi smut #mk kenshi #kenshi takahashi x you #kenshi takahashi x reader smut #kenshi takahashi x you smut

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spctrsgf · 10 months

Text

to his office

prompt #351 from @/lyralit:

“I could kiss you right now.”

“You’re very welcome to do it.”

word count: 3.8k

warnings: spidey!reader (tried to make it gn, lmk if i messed anything up!), language, my shitty spanish, innuendos but no actual sex

a/n: i saw atsv and miguel was SO SCRUMPTIOUS i had to write this

“HOBIE!” You yell at the aforementioned Brit, narrowly missing a chunk of some building that is being thrown at you. “I bloody know!” He yells back, swinging from the building next to you.

You nudge your head to the left as a signal to him, releasing a quick whip of web to maneuver behind a rough, brick building to land on the side of it. Hobie wasn’t too far behind, and Gwen was soon to your left as well. The three of you heave in heavy breaths, synchronous in your silence. The inevitable stomp of the angry anomaly of the week roams in search of the very people next to you as well as yourself.

“She just does not give up, does she?” Hobie quips, filling the silence.

“Well,” Gwen adds. “We did make her angry.”

“We? You were the one who threw a brick at her, mate.”

“And who’s idea was it to do that?”

“It was a bloody joke!”

“It didn’t sound like it–”

“Okay!” You exclaim, cutting their childish argument in half. “Enough. Back to defeating the Wannabe Crab woman, okay?”

“Right,” Hobie answers, quick to drop his anger like usual. “What’s the plan, boss?”

“We gotta trap him somewhere, but this fucking city is endless. It’ll take forever.”

“I think we gotta get her hands tied,” Pavitr says from above, nearly desticking Gwen from the brick wall in surprise. “That’s where the power is, right?”

“Jeez, Pav,” You yelp, coming down from your initial shock. “We didn’t see ya there.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for scaring you, but seriously. I think we gotta tie her hands!”

“He’s right, that would solve all the cement throwing we got going on.” Hobie agrees, shifting to lean on the windowsill next to him.

You tilt your head. “Do ya think webs’ll be strong enough for that one?”

“Ours? Nah.”

“True, but Miguel’s would do us a solid right now with all this.” Pav interjects.

“He’s right. We need those ever so strong webs your boyfriend has to do the job.” Gwen nudges you with her shoulder.

Your cheeks flame, and you’re eternally grateful for the silky mask you have on. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Gwen! We’re not– he doesn’t– oh my god,” You pinch the bridge of your nose as best you can through the mask. “Back on topic!”

“Seriously,” Hobie nods. “You should ask the lad to help us out.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

All you get is a shrug from him.

“Or you, Gwen? Or Pav?”

They all give you a look, a look that tells you exactly what they’re thinking.

“No. Oh my god, guys! Seriously? He doesn’t like hearing from me, anyways.”

That’s true, you firmly believe it, and you have ever since you first got to Nueva York. Being the person you are, you originally doted around the idea of talking to him, of engaging in a conversation. But, to be frank, he scared you shitless. He towered over your stature, a whopping 6’9” to your pacifying build. But, somehow you found yourself standing next to a nonchalant Hobie, watching his floating platform float impossibly slow towards the two of you after a mission.

He’d been… you could tell right away that Miguel wasn’t the type of person to sugar coat nor was he very good at hiding the emotions that flew across his face, because oh my you felt it. You felt the trail of his scarlet gaze as he took in his first impression, you felt the razor sharp cut of disgust, felt the way his tongue ran along his accentuated canines as you rambled through your report.

He’d dismissed you as quickly as humanly possible, opting to talk to the laid back Brit, the one who didn’t have to clear his voice every few sentences. Maybe it was a force of habit, you’d tried to reason as your head bowed to scurry out of the room. He has been working with Hobie longer, there has to be an ease between them.

But, as time passed, Miguel remained the same. He tossed you a cold shoulder, and seemed to avoid your presence unless needed. You tried to shrug it off, to pretend like it didn’t hurt you as much as it did, but it was hard to pretend when the sting of rejection slapped as soon as he was brought up. Which actually happened a lot.

You weren’t sure where Gwen had gotten boyfriend from that. Sure, you thought he was attractive. It was hard not to with his broad shoulders, a stark contrast to his (slutty) waist. There was something about his fangs that intrigued you, it was something you’d never seen before. And it wasn’t just the appearance that did it for you: it was that under all the anger and the rough exterior and the mask was a man, vulnerable and caring and wanting to stop what happened to him from happening to someone else.

He might be blunt and mean and pushy and all those things, but he came from a truly caring place, from a want to help. You could see that shine through in the way Gwen and Hobie and even Lyla talked about him, and you could see that in the mission notes he writes and in the slim amount of time that you were graced with his presence.

“That’s why.” Gwen’s voice shakes you clear of the memories.

“Wha?” You blink incredulously at her, like that would somehow shock you into understanding her sentence.

She shoves your wrist, which hovers in front of you with the button to call Miguel in a booming orange. “Call him.”

You glare at her, but all that earns you is a tilt of the head and a not-so-encouraging punch from Pav. “Fine! Fine.”

You take a deep breath before hitting the call button. It sends off some sort of interdimensional wave towards Nueva York, and you buzz with a different type of frequency, suddenly nervous. The Miguel effect. Your brain blurts. Always nervous. You sigh and remind yourself that there are three other spiderpeople next to you as the call goes through, and Miguel’s face pops up unceremoniously in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” Are the first words out of his mouth. “Uh, well, you see–” You start, only to be rudely cut off by his attitude. “Get to the point. I don’t have all day.”

The blunt words don’t roll off your back like normal, maybe it was because you could hear the anomaly pound, inching closer. “We need help. We need your webs, they’re stronger and can hold this guy’s claws together. He’s been tearing up the city.”

“You’re supposed to be containing the threat, not me.”

“Miguel, if you don’t get your fucking ass over here right now, all four of us are gonna be dead.”

“Doubt it.” He sounds distracted, like he was observing something else in front of him.

“Seriously? You can’t take two seconDS..!” You cut yourself off to launch off the building as the anomaly slams her fist into the spot you were rested at just a few seconds before.

You go to follow your partners in chasing the monster away from the buildings, to yell at the stubborn man currently still on call from the watch encircling your wrist, but your spidey senses perk up and then you’re swinging back towards the anomaly. Your eyes train on a woman, not much older than thirty, running for her life from the gnarly creature above her.

You don’t think. Normally, you’re all about thinking and finding the best course of action to try and save everyone, but you don’t now. Not when you’re so short on time, not when that woman could die. You dive, holding your arms out as you beeline to the poor woman. Her face turns from fear to relief when she sees you, reaching out to grab your hand as you scoop your arm around her waist and carry her to the nearest roof.

You’re off before she can say a word, and the glance back you lend her tells you that she knows exactly why you couldn't linger and conveys the thank you she couldn’t say to your face. It fuels you, and you move quickly, pulling the anomaly farther and farther from the people. “Are you a quiet one, huh?” The anomaly’s voice is low and gravelly. “I’m always up for a little banter.” You shoot back, taking a quick left to navigate to where you see your partners waiting, hidden and ready to attack.

“Alrighty then, let’s banter!”

“Let’s.”

“Are you expecting me to now spew out my whole plan and sob story, cus it ain’t happening.”

You shrugged. “Nah. Most of you don’t anyway.”

“We don’t?”

“No,” You shake your head, coming to a stop. “We usually have you caught by that time.”

Right on cue, Pav, Gwen, and Hobie shoot webs out, attempting to contain the anomaly. You realize, as you're adding your own webs to the mix, that Miguel must’ve hung up the phone during your little fright. “What happened with the boss? We getting that bloody help we need?” Hobie calls out, tightening his grip. “Dunno!” You call back. “Maybe he hung up.”

“Call him back, eh?”

“I- I can’t! This is harder than it looks.”

“We know!” Gwen screeches, voice strained.

“What do we do, guys?”

“Try and hold on.” Pav’s voice is uncharacteristically dim, lacking its normal cheer.

His tone sinks into your stomach. “What if we don’t–”

“You will,” Miguel’s voice crackles from your wrist. “I’m here. Where are you?”

“Uh–” You risk a look around as the anomaly struggles with a scream. “Open field. I can see an ocean from here, and there’s mountains to my right. Actually, I think it’s a river– we’re at a bend in it.”

“Got it. I know where you are, I’ll be there in a minute tops. Stay on the phone with me, okay?”

“Will do.”

“He won’t be here in time.” You look up at the anomaly, her deep green eyes locked unsettlingly with yours. She yanks hard this time, and you see Gwen nearly topple and Hobie’s footing slip slightly, giving her arms more wiggle room. “Yes he will.” Your jaw sets as you shoot another web to wrap around her wrist, yanking her down onto her knees.

“You’ll lose. Wouldn’t that be crazy? Spiderman. Losing.”

“Crazy? Yeah, cus it won’t happen.” Gwen grunts from above, struggling to keep a clean facade.

“I’m almost there, cariño, hold on.”

“I am, we’re fine–”

And then you’re not. Because the anomaly bursts up in a spur of movement, effectively breaking the confinement you four had put on her. She runs forward, taking a straight track for you. You leap up, swinging away as quickly as you can. You pick through the strain on your forearms, through the cloud of fear in your head. You try to stay in the same general area you told him you’d be in, but it’s hard with the anomaly on your heels.

“Miguel! Help, she’s chasing me, I can only keep her away from me for so long–”

“I know, I know, I’m coming. Hold on.”

But you’re not responding anymore. The anomaly swings a mighty claw straight into your abdomen, effectively sending you into the ground. Pav lets out a scream, sliding to catch you before you can slam into the grass, and Miguel knows something is wrong. You can hear his yells and Pav’s telling you to respond, but the pain in your side is excruciating and your brain feels like mush and your mouth is dry like sandpaper and your vision is tunneling into black and you try to speak but–

…

It’s very dark.

That’s the first thing you notice when you come to. It’s nice. But there’s an off putting feeling about it, like something’s lurking in the dark, and then you’re itching to turn on the lights so you can see something. “You have something covering your eyes, you do realize that.” Miguel’s smooth tone slides in from the left, decorating across the bland abyss.

Ah. So that was the problem.

Your arms feel foreign as you reach up to pull the fabric off your eyes, exposing you to the room you were in, only slightly brighter than before. “Lyla said the mask was supposed to help you heal better,” Miguel starts, and you can’t quite bring yourself to look at the man next to you quite yet. “I listened, she’s better at this than I am.”

“Am I not in the infirmary?” You question, before frowning at the way your voice sounded. You sit up, clearing it a few times.

“You were, but I moved you.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want you in there.” He answered bluntly, yet it lacked any substance at all.

“Why?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

You chuckled dryly. “Miguel, you moved me from the fucking infirmary to your office. I think you owe me a damn explanation.”

“No.” He turns away, slinging a web out to launch him onto his floating platform.

“Miguel–”

“No.” The orange screens encircle him, effectively slamming his hard tone into the flow of conversation that wasn’t really flowing anymore.

You frown, half sat up in the bed that he’d placed you on. You’re frustrated, you don’t understand what’s been going on between you and him. He hated you. You’d previously established that, his vibrant reaction to your question confirmed it. But he saved you. And he moved you into his fucking office.

Your head swims with this new information, and you flop back down unceremoniously onto the bed. Your head tilts automatically to him again, the fiery red in the bleak, monotone room. His back is to you, and he’s furiously tapping at something on one of his many screens. The boldness of his stature, the way he’s standing is so unwelcoming that you’re now sure he never really wanted you there at all.

You sit up and hop out of the bed as quietly as you can, even though you know he can probably hear you in the silence that enveloped you both. Yet he doesn’t react, he doesn’t turn and yell like you thought he might. He stayed stoically and almost stubbornly facing his screens, so you turn and slip towards the door.

Fucking say something, Miguel.

He doesn’t. You don’t know what you expected anyways.

So you continue your walk, your path out of noose that the room brought. Yet, steps to the hallway seem harder and harder to make, like the hallway is getting longer or maybe you’re moving a lot slower than you normally do. You move to shoot a web, hoping to gain traction and move somewhat faster, but you can’t quite get your aim right–

And then your vision is fluctuating and you start to feel unbalanced. You’re not moving. You’re moving your feet, but you’re not going anywhere. Your brain is fuzzy and the ground is getting closer than it normally is- you don’t remember being this short? “Ay, cariño!” Is exclaimed from behind you, and then something’s grabbing onto your back and pulling you back upright.

Miguel has his arm wrapped around your waist as you wobble, guiding you back to the bed and then lifting you up to sit on it. Your hands come up to rub your eyes, trying to get them to refocus. They blur and then unblur, finally resting to take in your wobbly hands, which are held out shakily in front of you. In response, you twist your hands together just enough to feel the pain of it, reminding you that you were in fact awake and aware.

“Are you okay?” It’s then that you realize that Miguel is still in front of you. He’s got you caged in, blanketing you in his grand shadow. Your neck cranes up to reach his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t let your eyes linger during their ascent. When you meet the scarlet of his irises, you’re taken aback by the level of concern in them. Like he was actually worried about you.

“I’m okay,” You respond, tilting your head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He scoffed, but didn’t move away. “I’m not worrying.”

“If there’s one thing you’re bad at, Miguel, it’s lying.”

“I am a great liar.”

“Oh?”

“Dios mio, cariño, yes.”

“What does that mean, anyway?,” You question, rocking backward to tuck your feet underneath your legs. “I tried to get Lyla to tell me, but she will not let the secret loose.”

He freezes. “Nothing, sorry, slip of the tongue.”

“You do realize I can just search it up, right? Would you rather me find out from the reach of the internet?”

“Not really, what if you just don’t–”

“Miguel.” You rise onto your knees, leveling your gaze with his own and resting a hand on his shoulder. “What is it? It can’t be that bad, it’s not like you’re saying you’re in love with me or something.”

“Well–”

“Right, cus that would be like…” Your words tumble over him, your brain too keen on keeping your feelings, your delusions to yourself. “Te amo? Te quiero? I’m not sure…”

“Either one.”

“Yeah, so it’s not one of those, so what is it?”

He takes a deep breath, looking slightly troubled. His face twists his face up like he’d just bit into a lemon, and then you’re panicking again.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that–”

“It’s a term of endearment,” His voice stops your apologies in their tracks. “It literally means affection, but when you use it as a nickname it’s more like sweetheart or darling. Dear is another way to say it, but you get the point.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sorry about that–”

“Don’t be,” Your head tilts with his, following the way he turns his gaze away from you in embarrassment. “I like it.”

He meets your eyes again, curiosity and hope strung in his vibrant eyes. “You do?”

“Yeah. The way you say it is so satisfying, if that makes sense.”

“You like when I speak Spanish, huh?”

You nod, and suddenly you’re the one hiding your face from his smirk.

“Querido, mírame.”

“Miguel–”

“Ahora. I won’t ask again.”

You sigh, glaring at him. “I don’t understand you.”

“That’s okay, you’ll learn,” He leans down and then innnn, so that the two of you are practically nose to nose. “I know you can do it.”

“Do you?” Your brain is screaming at you, making you even more painfully aware of his proximity to your face, yet you somehow manage to clearly deliver the line.

“Mhm.”

“Well, it’s only cus I’ll have the best teacher. You.” You hit his nose with your finger, catching him off guard.

“I am happy to take that title.”

“Good.”

He hasn’t moved. Even as the room fades into silence, he hasn’t moved. He’s still so close, like you could lean in, barely four inches, and you’d be kissing him. You can smell him, a tinge of metallic blood yet so earthy and centering. It’s intoxicating: your brain is swimming and you're struggling to keep your head above the water.

Cariño. Sweetheart. A term of endearment. You still haven’t quite wrapped your head around that, not that you’ve been given much time to mull over it. Was that him telling you that he liked you, more than a friend? Was that a normal thing, using that term? You didn’t know, but you had a feeling that would be the best confession from him you were getting, if he meant it that way at all. You were gonna have to make the leap yourself.

“Everything okay?” His hand lands on your shoulder, a gentle reminder that you’d been staring into nothingness for what must’ve been a painfully long time for him. “Yeah,” You stumble to regain your words. “Sorry, I-”

“Spaced out.”

“Yeah.”

He nods, smiling just enough so you could see his fangs peek out. You were caught.

“Migu–”

“I could kiss you right now, you know that?”

“Huh?” stumbles stupidly out of your now slack jaw.

“I could kiss you. You’ve been staring at my lips for the past few minutes, mi amor, whether you realize it or not.”

“I have? Oh my god.”

He chases your drifting gaze, just like you did with his. “It was cute.”

“Cute is a word I never thought I’d hear come out of your mouth.”

“Cállete, you hear me? Shut up.”

You giggle, grabbing his hand and sliding it up to fit comfortably on the back of your neck. “You wanna kiss me, O’hara? You’re very welcome to do it.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Now he’s leaning in, closing in those four painstaking inches to lock lips with you.

And it’s insane. Showstopping. Any kisses you had before then? Not even a fucking kiss. Sure, it was a bit awkward at first– mainly you, you suppose– but it worked itself out. Miguel must’ve really gotten into it, because once you swear he nipped at your bottom lip with those fangs of his, just hard enough to draw blood. Your hands, in the meantime, explored his mass of brown curls, previously smoothed back but released by your fingers.

His own hands nestled themselves in your hair, tugging on it just enough to draw a sigh out of you. He tastes like blood– surely yours– yet ever so homey. You lean into him inadvertently, so content in the moment. The rational part of your brain reminds you that you’d probably suffocate if you kissed him for much longer, but nothing in you cared very much about that fact at all.

In the end, it’s him who takes a dip for air, who drags your face off of his reluctantly to gasp softly. You do the same, resting your forehead on his toned chest. His hand, still in your hair, guides you gently back up, just so he can absorb your appearance and vice versa. It’s crazy, taking him in like this. He looks so out of control, his hair disheveled and his lips puffy and his cheeks red, releasing air in quick puff puffs. You’re sure you’re not much better looking.

“Out of breath already?” He says, head tilted with a goofy sort of grin adorning his face. “I’m regaining it currently, don’t tease.” You puff back at him, dropping your head back onto his chest.

“Oh, but teasing you is the best part.”

You stab a finger into his side. “Be quiet.”

“If you fare like this, mi alma, you won’t last very long where we’re headed.”

Your head whips up, equal parts confusion and frustration. “First of all, I’m fine. Second of all, what?”

“C’mon.” he pulls you off the bed.

“Are we sure I can even–”

His arm is around your shoulders, hand clamped tightly around it to squeeze you reassuringly. “I got you.”

“Thanks.” Your smile towards him is mushy, but you couldn’t quite find it in yourself to care.

“De nada,” He smiles back, and you mentally note to tease him about his softness later on. “Let’s get all the way to home plate, huh?”

“Let’s.”

feel free to drop by my inbox anytime, everyone, before i run out of ideas

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #atsv #oscar issac #oscar issac x you #oscar issac x reader #oscar issac characters #oscar issac imagine #oscar isaac x you #spiderman #spiderman: across the spiderverse

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bwabys-scenarios · 6 months

Note

Pls feed us Leorio girlies, please give us Headcannons. We are starving on the side of the road with no food, nary a NSFW Headcannon to keep us warm during the cold, cold winters. Please, donate your Leorio Headcannons to feed a starving fandom. ( I luv ur work btw it gets me through senior year of uni 🥰)

Leorio SFW/NSFW HCs

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

REQUESTS OPEN

warning: overstimulation, sex toys, oral(f+m receiving), pegging, period sex, nudes, mutual masturbation, cockwarming, dry humping

A/N: THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST I LOVE HIM DEARLY❤️❤️🙏🙏

taglist: @desiray562

if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!

SFW

-he’s literally the perfect man

-because he’s a doctor it’s not easy to gross him out. bled through during your period? he’s getting you a change of clothes and starting a bubble bath. threw up due to the flu/morning sickness? he’ll hold back your hair and whisper comforting words, saying you’ll be okay and it’ll be over soon

-you are his everything, he shows you off to his friends and is so happy they like you/you like them!!

-he will do pretty much anything to see your smile or make you laugh

-he absolutely ADORES you. calls you his princess, lovebug, sweet thing, sunshine

-absolute cuddlebug!! he loves cuddling with you on the couch, his palm resting on the small of your back while he gives you forehead kisses 🥰

-will take you out clubbing and make sure no one bothers you!! he’s so tall and muscular that no one approaches you while he’s standing guard over you

-before you start dating, he pines for you HARD. everyone can tell he’s in love with you but you, and it takes him months to finally ask you out

-very romantic, likes taking you out to dinners, walks on the beach, but also enjoys eating fast food together in your car while having idle chitchat. honestly any activity he does with you feels romantic to him, he’s in LOVE LOVE

-he is the best person to take care of you when you’re sick. not only is he a doctor, but he’s super empathetic and caring person that knows your needs almost better than you do

-he’s got such big hands, and they’re always touching you, whether that be holding your hand, your hip, or caressing your cheek!!

-in the morning, he usually wakes up before you and just stares at your face, caressing your cheek and pushing your hair out of your face. if you could see the tender, loving look in his eye you’d fall even more in love

-he would be such a good dad. I think he would be ready for kids in his mid twenties, so he’ll have graduated med school before he has kids.

-before he has kids though, Gon and Killua are your honorary children.

-when you do get pregnant, he’s extremely attentive, taking great care of you and your needs. he’s a doctor so if anything happens he’ll be able to help!

-buys you flowers and chocolates almost every week. he just can’t pass them off when he goes grocery shopping after a long and hard shift at the hospital.

-he likes to hold your hand when you walk together. he may be a bit shy with PDA, but he’ll show his love for you by gently rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand, his eyes full of adoration when he looks down at you

-jealous!! does not like when men’s eyes linger on your figure, or their hands get dangerously close to touching you. he’s the best guard dog, easily defending you from anyone that would try to hurt you!

-likes when you let him lay his head in your lap after a long day, rubbing your fingers through his hair and telling him what a good job he did. he’s got a lot on his shoulders, and it’s nice to be able to relax with you

-enjoys doing small intimate things for you, like washing your hair, shaving your legs, and applying lotion to your skin. anything to make him feel closer to you!

-loves the smell of your shampoo, and will always pull you a little closer when the two of you cuddle after your shower

-he’s a decent cook, and enjoys cooking with you! feels so loved when you ask him if he can taste test something for you, hearts forming in his eyes when you gently blow on the food before offering it to him

NSFW

-he’s a service dom when he dominates. he lives to please you and make you feel good! as a sub, he will let you do anything to him…

-Leorio is inexperienced and can be easily overstimulated with kisses alone. you can sit in his lap, tongue in his mouth and he’ll cum in his pants before you even touch him

-he’s putty in your hands. pull him down by his tie and he may just whimper. pin him against the wall, pull him closer by his hips and he’ll look down at you with half lidded eyes, a blush covering his face

-you’ll have to put up with him cumming really quick the first few times. he’s very shy and gets overly excited, but he can keep going! just be a little patient!

-his hands shake a little when he fingers you for the first time. he’s a little nervous, he’s scared he’ll hurt you! his fingers are big and can stretch you out plenty!

-7.5ish inches, girthy… he tries his best to be gentle and take his time with you, but he does end up moving too quick and cumming inside within the first 5 mins 😭🙏 he can go again though, and will fuck you until you’re satisfied!!

-appreciates a nice set of lingerie. send him all the pictures of you in your new panties and he’ll send back “AWOOGA” and a cumshot video 🙏

-mutual masturbation… loves to watch you play with your pussy while he jerks off. it also helps him learn exactly what makes you feel good so he can try it next time!!

-you ironically ask him for a video of him whimpering while he jerks off and he send it back within the next 5 minutes… it’s hot, and his hands tremble a little while he pumps his fat cock and moans your name

-if he needs to get off while you’re gone, he’ll call you and have you tell him about your day while he gets off to the sound of your voice

-he buys you any sex toys you want, as long as he gets to watch you use them!! he has his own toys but is a little more shy, you’ll have to convince him and get him very comfortable for him to let you watch him

-he loves your body, and will whisper words of worship and adoration when he touches you. he’s surprisingly sweet and loving, making every touch pleasurable

-he needs to be kissed and told that he’s making you feel good! he’s a little insecure and nervous the first few times you have sex, and needs reassurance!

-can be very subby… call him your sweet boy, your sweetheart, darling. cup his cheeks while you settle onto his cock and tell him just how nice he feels inside you and he’ll blush, wanting to hide his flustered face in your shoulder. hell whine and whimper, gasping when you clench around him and begging you to move faster ><

-his hands are almost always on your hips during sex. holding you in place, gently squishing and squeezing at your soft flesh. his thumbs will brush over your tummy as he kisses you, and you can feel the pressure of his fingers digging into your skin. it’s a reminder that he has you, and doesn’t want to let you go

-he would let you peg him if you wanted to. he won’t ask, but if you bring it up he’s like “yeah sure!”

-p-period sex with Leorio…

-he uses the doctor card saying something like “did you know that sex can help with cramps?” and gives you a hopeful look, playing with the waistband of your panties. he’s so tender, rubbing your back soothingly and making sure he’s gentle. he really does want to help you feel better, so the sex is very soft and sensual. he’ll never be rough with you when you’re on your period, not like he is when you’re off of it, but he’s especially gentle when you are

-literally so sweet and loving when you do get pregnant. he’ll let you cockwarm him, holding a hand over your baby bump while the two of you think of baby names. you’ve been a little hormonal lately and just wanna feel nice and full, so he’s happy to oblige

-blow jobs… he fucking LOVES when you suck his cock. look at him with those pretty eyes of yours, fondle his balls and he’ll cum almost instantly. honestly he’s really sensitive so just swirling your tongue around his tip is enough to get him off

-loves dry humping. he has you sit on his lap, guiding your hips so your clothed pussy rubs against the bulge in his pants. poor guy ends up cumming in his pants A LOT when he’s around you 😭🙏

-moans and whimpers while he eats you out. you can tell he’s enjoying himself, maybe even more than you are. he’s got his big fingers inside of you, moaning into your clit as he sloppily slurps and licks your pussy 💞💞

-he’s almost in shock when he has you moaning and squirming underneath him, begging for more. he’ll swallow thickly, pushing his cock in and kissing your forehead. “anything for you, princess.”

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holllandtrash · 11 months

Text

blindsided | lance stroll

pairing: lance stroll x ricciardo!reader

getting your hopes up is a dangerous thing, a lesson lance has to learn the hard way. your connection was real, but what was it based on?

word count: 6.7k tags/warnings: some pining, some unrequited feelings, does it have a happy ending? maybe, maybe not thank you cay @oconso for that line you know the line

You were an enigma to Lance.

You were someone that he felt he should have known, but the two of you had never actually taken a minute out of your days to properly introduce yourself, nor did you ever find yourself in a scenario where you could have had a conversation.

As the younger sister of Australia’s golden boy, Daniel Ricciardo, you were in school and then uni while he was in his prime racing days. Your summers were spent with friends, every so often you’d go to a race or two, but your priority was not being one of those family members who attended as many races as you could, Daniel understood that.

By the time you graduated last year, Daniel had told you his future with McLaren looked unstable and he didn’t want you to attend his races, saying he’d much rather wait until he was back with a 'good team'.

So you never had the opportunity to meet a lot of the drivers on the grid, Lance included.

But there was still this strange connection to him.

His sister was dating Scotty, Scotty was Daniel’s best friend, you as well had spent many days and nights at Scotty's family home because he also treated you like a younger sister.

And it was through social media and your name being brought up in passing here and there that Lance felt as though he knew you. He didn’t. He didn’t even know your middle name, didn’t know what you had studied, didn’t know what you were doing currently.

But he knew you had a good circle of friends, you posted pictures with them often. He knew you drank too much coffee for it to be healthy and it was probably an addiction at this point. He knew you were heavily involved in Daniel’s Enchante clothing line, usually being one of the models when a new collection dropped.

He knew you at face value, but god did he want to know more.

When Lance stopped by Chloe’s place with a box of empty envelopes she had asked him to pick up, Lance walked in on her and Scotty going over their guest list for a final time. Lance paid them no attention, he dropped the box of envelopes down on the table and sauntered towards the kitchen as the plate of freshly baked cookies looked mouth watering.

His ears perked up when he heard your name, however.

“...did Danny say that Y/N would be able to make it?” Chloe asked, directing the question to Scotty. “We gave her the dates a while ago, but she never got back to me. Also isn’t she terrified of planes?”

“She is, but she’ll take a pill or two and it’ll knock her out for the flight,” Scotty nodded and Chloe rolled her eyes at his joke.

Play it cool, Lance told himself as he leaned against the kitchen island. “Y/N? As in Daniel’s sister?”

Chloe didn’t even glance up, “Yeah, I’ve only met her once but she’s-”

“She’s like a sister to me. If she missed the wedding I'd disown her,” Scotty joked. He rested his arm over the back of the chair and looked at Lance. “Have you met her?”

Lance pretended to think about it, even pinched his eyebrows together, but he knew damn well the two of you had never met, “I don’t think so.”

“She’s sweet,” Scotty told him, his lips curling into a smirk that Chloe couldn’t see. Always a menace. “You two would get along.”

Lance snorted, “What makes you say that?”

“Because you’re both single.”

Chloe grabbed a sheet of paper and crumpled it up, tossing it into the chest of her soon-to-be husband, muttering something about staying out of other people's love lives. Scotty only sent Lance a wink before turning around again to give his attention back to the guest list.

Lance was single, Scotty wasn’t wrong about that. After just getting out of a relationship, he was, admittedly, lonely.

And it wasn’t that he purposely stayed single those months leading up to the wedding, but no one caught his interest. Or, if someone did, Lance would forget about them the moment you popped up on his Instagram feed.

Your smile was similar to Daniel’s in a sense that it was wide and toothy, easily becoming the most prominent feature on your face as your eyes squinted, but aside from that and the dark features, the similarities stopped.

As a Ricciardo, one might expect you to have the same bubbly and outgoing energy but from what Lance could see in the photos and videos you were tagged in, or ones you had posted yourself, you seemed to stick to the same circle of friends. You visited the same bars and restaurants because it was what you knew and within your comfort zone. You never went out of your way to make an impression on someone, happily letting your brother take on the more talkative role.

Lance wanted to know if your laughter was as loud and more amusing than the joke itself or if that was only a trait reserved for Daniel.

He was tired of trying to piece together who you were through pictures on a phone screen and still, the worst part about this was it felt as though he did know you. Lance had to keep reminding himself that he didn’t, that you never met, that the image he constructed of you in his head might be wrong.

He wouldn't know until Venice.

And you, well you thought you knew who Lance was too.

Danny had mentioned him a handful of times. You followed Lance on social media, even if he did have a tendency to be more secluded than other drivers, he still was pretty active when it came to liking posts, especially your posts.

You didn’t google him, per say, but you were curious. Who was this Canadian driver? Aside from being the son of the team owner, there wasn’t much to learn about Lance besides his driver stats. Again, very private.

But he was cute. He gave off the tall, dark and mysterious sort of vibe, which was never really your type but the more you saw Lance’s photo appear online, the easier it was to forget about those blonde surfer guys that you would usually spend your time with.

Lance seemed sweet, from what you could gather. And similarly, you felt as though you knew him too. It seemed odd that the two of you had never met and all, with your unofficial older brother marrying his sister. It was like you should have the same circle of friends or at least be able to call each other acquaintances but you couldn’t.

Daniel walked into his parents house in Perth, hitting a few envelopes against the palm of his hand and then the wall, basically demanding attention from his family until he flicked one of them towards you.

It narrowly avoided your face and you flipped him off in response, earring a scolding from your mother, but it was easy to move past the sibling banter when you all opened the envelopes to see the wedding invitations from Chloe and Scotty.

“Venice,” you breathed out. “Jesus Christ, that'll be a pricey adventure.”

Danny didn’t have to say anything. His elbow nudging against your side was enough for you to know that he would help pay for the expenses. He was always looking out for you, for his family. You wished you could do the same, but at the moment you were just enjoying your first full year of being done with university.

You grabbed a pen and checked off that you would be in attendance and then you hovered it over the box asking about a plus one.

“You’re not seeing anyone,” Daniel scoffed and then glanced over his shoulder to get his parents opinion on this. “Right? She’s not seeing anyone?”

“No one right now,” you corrected, letting the pen and invite drop to the glass coffee table. You could fill it out later. “Who knows? That might change.”

“Don’t invite someone to a wedding if you’ve been dating them for less than six months, that’s a general rule.”

“Says who?”

“Says everyone,” Your mother interjected.

You just huffed out a breath of annoyance, “Well it’s a good thing the wedding is nine months away. I have time.”

Daniel stood up, but not before pushing you further into the corner of the couch, muttering a joke about how no one would want to date you anyway. Of course that prompted you to throw a pillow at him and your parents were left standing in the kitchen, wondering why they couldn’t just have one nice afternoon.

Daniel, of course, wanted nothing more than for you to be happy, despite the constant teasing and lack of faith that you’d ever actually find someone. He knew you had high standards, he knew you didn’t trust easily and he knew you would never follow someone because you were in love or whatever.

That’s why your last relationship ended. He wanted to move to Melbourne after graduation from university and even that was too far for you. Your whole life was in Perth, your home was on the western coast of Australia, you didn’t want to go anywhere else.

One time, Daniel tried setting you up with one of his athlete friends, someone else who was associated with Red Bull, but he was from Portugal, he travelled for a living and he resided in Los Angeles during his off season. You went on one date and you didn’t need to spend any more time with him to know you could never be in that sort of relationship.

Of course, this wasn’t something you shared publicly. Unless someone took the time to get to know you, your dating preferences would remain unknown.

You were private in that sense too. If you did talk to someone, if you attempted to broaden your circle and add a little romance in your life, you kept it to yourself. You were always paranoid about jinxing whatever fling you had so your friends were often left out of the loop.

Your parents were a similar story. You didn’t live at home, you had your own flat, but you wouldn’t dare bring someone by for dinner or to meet them in fear that they would get their hopes up. It was one thing to date someone, it was an entirely other thing when parents got involved.

The one person you could trust, surprisingly, was Daniel. You weren’t ever seeking out relationship advice, but you knew his relationship with Heidi started out quite secretive for the first few years, only recently they decided to go public. So he knew a thing or two about wanting to keep a private life private.

So Daniel was the one you approached only a month before the wedding, eight months after you had rsvp’d to the event and checked the box reading no plus one. You waited until he was visiting home and you weren’t under the watchful eyes of your parents but rather the comfort of your own flat.

“I have a favour to ask,” you started off, quite hesitant as you weren’t really one to ask your brother for anything.

And Daniel listened to your request, assuring you that, if you were serious, he could probably pull some strings.

Key word being probably. Daniel couldn’t promise anything and by the time you got to Italy, he did what he could, but you still showed up to the Gritti Palace Hotel the weekend of the wedding with low expectations and a bunch of unanswered texts.

There was a private event in the restaurant and you immediately were drawn to the outdoor portion that overlooked the Grand Canal. The actual ceremony wasn’t until tomorrow, today was simply a chance for the guests to mingle and for the bride and groom to celebrate their last few hours with their loved ones before tying the knot.

With an aperol spritz in one hand and the other gripping the wooden railing above the channel, you took in the sights in front of you. The breeze was gentle and the scenery was breathtaking, stunning enough to make you forget that you were still feeling some effects of jet lag.

Your back was to the rest of the party but your light pink dress that stopped just below your knee stood out compared to the white and beige decor the couple had chosen for this event. One could say it was because the colour was eye-catching, but there was no way to deny how well it accentuated your curves and highlighted your tan skin, making you appear as if you were truly glowing under the Italian sun.

You definitely caught Lance’s eye.

You didn’t even need to turn around for him to recognise you. He saw your hair, dark and natural as it flowed down your back and he knew it was you. The girl he thought he already knew, the girl whose life he had been following through a phone screen for god knows how long.

It was just his luck that Daniel was nearby. Lance took a minute before heading towards you, wanting to confirm that yes it was you and yes it was alright if he spoke to you without crossing some weird driver line. He nudged Daniel’s arm and nodded towards the girl in pink.

“That your sister?” Lance asked, clearing his throat.

Daniel nodded, quite happy that someone else here knew who you were. It was always uncomfortable when you attended gatherings and didn’t know many people, it just made you want to leave early.

“Yeah, you guys have met, right?”

Again, Lance played it off as if he wasn’t waiting for this moment, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Oh definitely go introduce yourself then, mate,” Daniel encouraged, which gave Lance even more confidence. “She’s shy, she'd rather drown herself in aperol spritz’ before ever approaching someone.”

Shy? Lance hadn’t pegged you for being shy. Introverted, maybe. But you seemed to have such a good group of friends and you went on adventures with them quite often that shy just didn’t seem like a characteristic of yours.

“It’s not weird if I…” Lance trailed off, unsure how to ask the rest of his question. “It’s okay if I talk to her?”

Daniel laughed, finding the question to be humorous. He wasn’t in charge of you, who was he to have a say over who you could or couldn’t talk to, “I don’t care, just don’t be a cunt or I’ll have to kick your ass.”

“Deal,” Lance chuckled before he shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way towards the balcony you hadn’t moved an inch from.

Lance wasn’t nervous, but he knew he should have been.

But again, it felt like he knew you. So he was comfortable enough to lean against the railing, not entering too much of your personal space, but close enough that you couldn’t ignore him. You turned your head, expecting to see your brother because as far as you knew, he was the only one here who would ever approach you, but you were pleasantly surprised to see Lance.

“Hi,” you said, already a smile on your face. Lance was someone you recognised. This wasn't a stranger approaching you, you could breathe. He was someone whose name you had heard quite a bit recently too, with his sister getting married and his good performances with Aston Martin.

He was your brothers, best friend’s, soon to be brother in law. It was a long string that connected the two of you, but nonetheless, that connection was there.

Which was why you already felt comfortable with Lance, even with this being the first time you’d ever met.

“You’re Y/N right?” Lance asked. He knew damn well who you were. “I’m Lance.”

“Yeah, yeah,” heat rose to your cheeks at the idea of you being recognised. “Hi, it’s so nice to meet you. I feel like I-” you sucked in a breath instead of finishing your thought, not wanting to come across as overwhelming.

“It feels like we already know each other?” Lance guessed, because this was exactly what was going through his head too.

Quiet laughter passed through your lips, Lance felt weak at the knees.

“In a way, yeah,” you agreed, nodding your head.

You had similar mannerisms to Daniel. Strong eye contact, saying ‘yeah’ to fill the gaps in sentences. Lance looked down at your hand and saw a few tattoos like that traced your wrist and a delicate design of a flower along your finger, similar to your brothers. Something that he hadn’t picked out from your Instagram.

The way you curled your fingers around the fragile stem of the glass caught Lance’s eye next. Your touch looked careful, soft even, and Lance wanted to know what it would be like to feel it for himself.

And this wasn’t one sided.

With Lance in front of you for a change instead of hiding behind Aston Martin admin approved photos, you could appreciate him in a whole new light. Social media and tv interviews didn’t do him justice, he was much more handsome in person.

You liked the confidence he carried, even if he did seem a bit on the introverted side as well. You instantly got the impression that Lance was someone who stuck to himself but cared deeply about the people closest to him. He seemed like someone you wanted on your side, someone you could turn to at any time and know you would get a shoulder to cry on or a celebratory hug or even just someone who would really listen, if that’s what you needed.

You already felt connected to him, even though you knew you had no reasoning behind it.

“I’d offer to get you a drink but it’s an open bar and-” he eyed the aperol spritz in your hand. “-well you already have one.”

“I have two hands,” you teased, but your roguish smiles mirrored one another's and it was only a few seconds later when you and Lance were walking back inside towards the bar.

He thought about dropping his hand to your back, but didn’t want to overstep. Contrary to what he might have wished, you had just met.

But when someone stepped past him and Lance was forced to move closer to you, you didn’t inch away. In fact you looked at the point of contact at your arms and then glanced up at him, still sporting a natural pinky colour in your cheeks.

You didn’t really need another drink just yet but Lance ordered one for himself and when the bartender asked if you wanted a second, you just shrugged and said why not. It was an open bar, who were you to say no?

Lance and you stayed at the bar, getting as comfortable as you could on the stools as you fell into a good conversation. He was easy to talk to, like he was a friend from college that you bumped into by chance.

But even with the natural flow of the back and forth, you had to remind yourself that you were still just getting to know each other.

Within the hour you learned that his favourite colour was dark blue, that when he wasn’t focused on racing he tried going to as many hockey games as he could. The Habs, as he called them, was his favourite team and it took a few minutes and a bit of a history lesson for you to understand how the Montreal Canadiens got the shortened nickname.

You learned he was not a morning person, whereas you thrived in the early hours of the day. He didn’t read as much as he liked to because of his demanding schedule, but you were quick to give him a list of recommendations based on what you thought he might enjoy if he ever did find time.

In return, Lance learned you studied hospitality and had a degree in Hospitality Management, with the goal of one day managing a hotel. When Lance questioned you more on that field you admitted that you actually wanted to take a lodge or a resort that was a bit of a fixer-upper and turn it into something great. You liked a challenge. Lance liked that.

Lance learned that you really enjoyed surfing and right now was actually the prime time for you to be getting ready for the season. While Perth wasn’t the best place in the world for surfers, it was perfect for you because it was never something you wanted to pursue professionally.

When it came to the topic of travelling, Lance was surprised to hear that you didn’t do it as often as he assumed. You explained that everything you needed was on the west coast of Australia and you weren’t an easy person to travel with. You struggled with anxiety in airports, horrible jetlag, you overthought every plan, even if you weren’t the one in charge of the itinerary.

Travelling was a no, to sum it up.

“But Daniel-”

“Travels all the time, yeah,” you finished Lance’s thought with a laugh. “Yeah we’re not alike in that sense. Even coming here was tough, but he told me there was no option to attend virtually.”

“Not a fan of planes?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Lance nodded, already thinking about how to approach the topic of trying to stay in contact long distance without coming off too strong. Sure he could ask for your number, but what if he wanted to see you again? Which he did. If a plane ride from Perth to Venice was a lot to handle, he could imagine a trip to Montreal was even lower on your list.

But Lance really liked talking to you, it was easy. It was natural. He didn’t have to try too hard, he didn’t feel the need to impress you. You laughed at his jokes, you understood each other's humour. The two of you clicked, it was impossible to deny that.

Which is what Lance hoped would happen.

You were everything he had imagined and more and he was asking himself why he never tried to meet you sooner.

That same question flashed through your mind too. Why couldn’t you have met sooner? After months of being forced to try and imagine what sort of person Lance was, it was heartwarming to know that the image you painted of him wasn’t entirely wrong. He was sweet, he was charming, he liked making you laugh, he knew how to keep a conversation going and it was obvious he cared to get to know you.

These were traits you looked for in people, in a partner.

But this chance encounter came a few months too late.

The conversation took a pause when Scotty appeared behind Lance, his soon-to-be ringed hand going to his shoulder as he gave both of you one of his signature smiles.

“Y/N! Happy to see your plane didn’t crash!” Scotty teased, knowing your distaste for air travel.

“If my drink was full I’d throw it on you,” you shot back.

“Ah that’s just a waste of an open bar,” Scotty waved your meaningless threat off. “Honestly, though, thank you for coming. Chloe’s around here somewhere-”

“Lost your wife already?” Lance joked.

“Maybe she’s a runaway bride,” you added. “She can still back out, you know?”

“Ha ha,” Scotty rolled his eyes. “Lovely to see that you two are getting along at my disposal.” He patted Lance’s shoulder and then turned to you, snapping his finger before pointing. “Did Danny talk to you?”

“Um-” you shook your head. Daniel and you hadn’t had a second to catch up since you arrived, despite the dozens of texts you had sent him. “No, why?”

“It’s all sorted out,” Scotty assured you. “It really wasn’t that hard to swing an extra chair, you gave us enough notice. The more the merrier, right?”

“Oh, Scotty thank you,” you breathed out. You reached forward and squeezed his arm in appreciation, but your smile was enough gratitude. It was the type of smile Lance had been waiting for. The grin that overshadowed the rest of your stunning features, the thing that had drawn Lance to your photos in the first place.

Only Lance wasn’t the reason for it.

“Is he down here?” Scotty asked and this was about the time Lance realised he was missing something. There was a layer to this conversation that would tie everything together.

“Jet lag’s still getting to him.” you laughed, nodding your head towards the doors of the restaurant. “He set an alarm to get up, I’m sure he’ll be down here soon.”

“Can’t wait to meet him,” Scotty said with a nod, but there wasn’t much room for you to say anything else before he found a new guest he had yet to interact with.

You looked towards Lance, but he was pretty good at hiding the confusion he was currently experiencing. In fact he played off needing to excuse himself pretty easily, you didn’t think anything of it when he said he needed to speak to Scotty about something quickly.

Lance pulled the snowboarder aside, not at all mirroring his elated expression, “She has a boyfriend?”

Scotty tried to glance in your direction but Lance tugged on his sleeve to get him to stop in his tracks, not wanting to make it obvious they were talking about you.

“She has a boyfriend,” Lance repeated, no longer a question. “You told me she was single.”

Scotty racked his memory for a second and scoffed, “Yeah nine months ago. Not my fault you waited too long to make a move.”

“How was I supposed to make a move when I hadn’t even met her?” Lance was clearly annoyed but he kept his tone to a sort of angry-whisper. “I was waiting for this wedding because I knew she’d be here.”

“Sorry mate,” Scotty sighed, slowly piecing together that this wasn’t something Lance could casually blow off. “But I mean, you couldn’t have liked her that much. You don’t even know her.”

But in a way he did. And god he knew you felt the same. There was no way to explain the connection you two shared, but it was there.

Lance inhaled a sharp breath, doing his best to keep from looking at you across the room, “I feel like I should say something.”

“Don’t,” Scotty immediately rejected the idea. “From what I hear from Danny, she’s happy. She doesn’t need you coming in and mucking it up.”

“But what if she’s-”

Scotty cut him off with a harsh laugh, “What if she’s what? The one? Lance, you just met her!”

“Then why does it feel like I’ve been waiting for her my entire life?”

Scotty let out a deep exhale, lifting his hand to Lance’s shoulder. He gave him a sympathetic squeeze, “Because she’s pretty and you’re lonely. Now let her be. Don’t ruin a relationship during my wedding weekend.”

He walked off shortly after, leaving Lance to, hopefully, make the right choices.

Lance should have listened to Scotty. He should have rejoined the party and leave you be, knowing that his chance with you was either non-existent or just extremely slim. How serious were you and this boyfriend anyway?

As if the universe wanted his question answered, the boyfriend himself walked into the restaurant.

The only reason Lance knew it was the boyfriend was because he saw the way you stood up from the bar and practically ran to him, your pink dress was impossible to mistake even as you hurried to work your way through the party.

Lance watched as your hands went to his tie to adjust it before he leaned forward and greeted you with a kiss. You played with a few strands of his dirty blonde hair, probably making some comment about how it looked like he just woke up. He laughed at whatever you said and Lance hated that you looked happier now than you had all throughout the last hour.

He was now trying to figure out if he had misread the signs. Did you even give him any signs? You sat and talked to him but it was Lance’s own fault if he misread that as being interested.

How did he not know you had a boyfriend?

Why didn’t you mention it?

Why wasn’t that one of the first things you said to Lance when he offered to get you a drink from the bar?

Why did Lance still feel that spark with you when it should have been reserved for your boyfriend?

Lance wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he stood off to the side, questioning everything he ever knew about you, or what he thought he knew. But he came to and snapped out of his thoughts when he saw that familiar shade of pink headed towards him.

“Hey,” you said, your hand was connected to your boyfriend’s as you led him towards Lance.

Lance smiled, how could he not when you approached him? “Hey, sorry, I went back to the bar earlier but you were gone.” Did he feel a little bad about lying? Yes, but it was easier to say that than to say, I stopped talking to Scotty a while ago. I just didn’t know how to interrupt you and your boyfriend.

“Oh, yeah, um-” You pulled the tall blond closer to your side. His hand went to your waist. “Lance, this is Matty. Matty, Lance.”

Matty held out his other hand to connect it with Lance’s. It was a firm handshake, maybe a little too firm on Lance’s part.

“Hey, mate, huge fan,” Matty said, similar accent to yours and Daniel’s.

“Oh thank you,” Lance cleared his throat. “Hope you don’t mind, I’ve been keeping Y/N company.”

“I should be thanking you for that,” Matty laughed, the bitter tone from Lance going right over his head. “I needed a quick nap before this party. I don’t know how you drivers are able to just hop on planes so easily, I think I’d rather sail back to Australia.”

You guys were compatible, at least. Same fear of planes, same dislike for travelling.

Lance didn’t like that. He knew he was the last person who should have an opinion, but he always thought it was opposites that attracted. Shouldn’t you be with someone that encouraged you to step outside your comfort zone?

“Oh there’s Danny and Scotty, I’m going to thank them for letting me come so last minute,” Matty looked towards the opposite end of the room to where your brother and friend were. He ran his fingers over your back and assured you he’d be quick before he headed off to talk to them.

“Last minute?” Lance asked. “So he wasn’t originally supposed to come?”

You laughed, “No, we’ve only been together for about six months. When I RSVP’d to the wedding last year I hadn’t met him yet,” you glanced towards Matty, “And then about a month ago I realised I kind of wanted him to accompany me here. Danny said it would be fine, probably, so he got a ticket to Venice but we actually didn’t get a confirmation until-” you chuckled again. “Well you overheard Scotty. I found out thirty minutes ago that Matty would have a seat at the table tomorrow.”

When you spoke about Matty, your face lit up. Lance couldn’t deny that. He could see how happy this surfer type from Perth made you.

And in return, you saw how Lance was no longer acting himself. He was tense, avoiding your eyes. You called him out on it, “Is everything okay?”

Lance should have taken Scotty’s advice. He should have said everything was fine and walked in the other direction, letting you go back to Matty.

But Lance was a hopeless idiot. He nodded his head towards the doors of the restaurant that lead towards a secluded hallway, “Can we talk?”

You weren’t sure exactly what Lance wanted to talk about but you followed him out into the hall. The music faded behind you when you walked far enough and Lance wasted no time in saying what was on his mind.

“Do you ever meet someone and it just feels right?” He asked.

You hesitated, “What do you mean?”

Lance glanced back towards the party, “Like you see them and you just know there’s a connection. That they’re supposed to be in your life.”

“I mean-” your eyebrows pinched together, “Yeah. I’ve experienced that a few times I guess.”

That clearly wasn’t the answer Lance wanted to hear and his defeated expression told you that. He nodded, coming to his own understanding, one that you were having a bit of trouble following.

“Is it wrong if I say that’s how I felt when I looked at you?”

You stared up at lance, lips parted slightly as you did your best to ignore the devastating feeling of your heart sinking to your stomach. You didn’t have an answer, what could you even say to that?

Lance was practically admitting to believing in love at first sight and you, well, you didn’t see what he saw. You couldn’t.

“Look I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Lance continued. “And I don’t mean to blindside you like this, really. I think, well I think I was blindsided when I realised you were already taken.”

This was a lot to wrap your head around.

You never intended to lead Lance on. You chatted with him for a while, yes but you tried to stay behind the line. You didn’t flirt, or at least you didn’t flirt on purpose. You could have said you had a boyfriend, but the truth was, it didn’t cross your mind when you talked to Lance.

Blindsided, he said. It seemed like a harsh word for the situation you found yourselves in.

“Were you blindsided or were you just blind?” You asked, dropping your shoulders to lean against the wall. You watched as Lance really took in your question and he rubbed the back of his neck, unable to come up with a good answer.

You felt for him, really, because you did like him. You liked talking to him, you liked his presence, he was someone that you knew you would get along great with.

You also knew that if this situation were any different, if you showed up to this wedding single, you’d have probably, definitely, given Lance a chance. And this wasn’t something you should have been thinking about because you had a boyfriend. You were happy. Imagining an alternate timeline without Matty seemed wrong.

There was a connection with Lance, but it was one you couldn’t act on.

“Lance, I think we both had an idea of who the other was before we came here, but we had very different ideas as to how this weekend would go,” you continued, a certain gentleness in your tone that Lance appreciated. “I was looking forward to meeting you. And we both agree that it feels as though we already knew each other...but the truth is, we don’t.”

That was a stab right to the chest for Lance, but he nodded in agreement.

“I guess I just thought this weekend would be the start of something,” he admitted, trying to play off the thought with a chuckle.

You wanted to apologise, it was human nature to want to sympathise with other people, but you had nothing to apologise for.

Lance had constructed his own image of you and in it, you were single, you were compatible, you were willing to see this connection through and make something of it.

And that’s what blinded him.

If he had taken a second to actually pay attention to what you shared on social media, he would have recognised the same blonde haired guy showing up in a few photos dating back to almost six months ago. All Lance paid attention to was you, your smile, you having a good time, your adventures. You were private about your relationship, yes, but you weren’t keeping it a secret either.

Lance just didn’t put it together until it was too late.

It hurt you, really. You didn’t like knowing you were the reason for someone’s sorrow. In fact you almost went as far as to say, if things were different…

But things weren’t different. You were with Matty.

Was Matty the right person for you? Lance wanted to ask that but he knew he’d be crossing a line if he did. That was something you had to figure out on your own.

After six months of dating, you liked to think he was. The timing was perfect, he treated you well, he made you undeniably happy.

And yes, you could have looked at Lance and told yourself he had the same qualities. That he was also perfect, that he also could have treated you well. There was no doubt in your mind he could have made you happy if he was given the option.

But timing was not on your side.

Lance licked his lips, taking a step away from you and closer to the crowded restaurant where he knew your boyfriend was waiting, where his family was waiting. You would both go your separate ways and return to how it used to be, following each other's lives through a phone screen.

“Right person, wrong time, huh?” Lance tried to joke, but the soft smile you gave him in return told him that there was some truth to his words, truth that even you didn’t want to admit to.

In an attempt to fix this, you spoke from the heart. Telling Lance what he needed to hear, even if you weren't fully convinced by your own words. As long as you sounded believable, you both could move on from this moment.

“If it’s the wrong time, then it’s probably the wrong person.”

Lance nodded, noticing the way you struggled to keep eye contact, something you hadn’t had issues with all night. He took that as a sign that it was time to walk away. From you, from this, from what could have been if they met only a few months earlier.

He turned and rejoined the party, plastering a painful smile on his face as he carefully made his way through the crowd to order another drink from the bar.

He avoided you and your pink dress for the rest of the night, not because he wanted to, but because it was the right thing to do. And it wasn’t easy because to Lance, you were still the girl that he thought he had been waiting for this entire time. That would take time to get over. He had spent less than a few hours with you and it was the easiest, most carefree evening he’s had in a while, and he knew moving on from you would only be the opposite.

It was his own fault too. Lance was the one who got his hopes up. He was the one who was waiting for the right moment that never came. Or worse, it came and went without him knowing. There was probably a sliver of an opportunity months ago where he could have done something, could have asked Danny to introduce you, could have asked Scotty for your number. By waiting until the wedding, Lance had only set himself up for failure.

If it’s the wrong time, then it’s probably the wrong person.

He didn’t want to think about the way you said ‘probably’. He wasn’t going to. Lance knew you weren’t leaving any sort of hint, you were just letting him down gently, which only further proved how good of a heart you had.

You were so kind, so caring, you were perfect, and you weren’t his.

You never would be.

#lance stroll x reader #ls18 #lance stroll #lance stroll imagine #this is a lance stroll fanpage #f1 one shot #f1 requests #lance stroll x you #lance stroll x y/n #lance stroll one shot

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aluhnim · 5 months

Note

Hello!! When you start a comic, how do you go about deciding your panelling layouts?? If this is too big of an ask for covid brain, how about your favorite song of the moment / a song that really inspires you?? I hope you feel better soon!

I was searching around for an old write up I did for some Original Character Tournament folks who were interested in my thoughts on panels and layouts. To try and answer your question, I go off of vibe now that I’ve made a LOT of comics. However, as much as it doesn’t seem like it at times, I do typically stay as “conventional” as possible to make sure my readers are still following the plot. I make a lot of adjustments along the way. Smarter layouts allow me to draw less, and drawing less is better for me in the long run! It’ll allow me to put more time in other places of the comic.

Anyway, here’s my write up back in the day that’ll hopefully answer some comic drafting questions!

More conventional paneling is a necessary stepping stone because you know your reader won’t get lost and the structure will have you more focused on flow and pacing. It seems remarkably easy to do comics with more “static” or traditional panel layouts but they work for a reason. There’s no real need to break out of something that works, unless you want to! Breaking out of the structure can really add some OOMPH to your important pages.

Some tips, note that these have been my preferences and some definitions don’t quite match their descriptors.

Bleed

I consider open panels or panels that stretch out beyond the edge of the page to be considered bleeds. They’re simple ways to make you feel like your not just sticking within your margins and making your page feel less static without much extra effort. Manga does this quite often, and Western American comics, especially during action packed moments or large splashes.

Some examples of things bleeds can do:

- They can also be used as transitions between pages (first panel bleeding in, last panel bleeding out).

- They can be used to interrupt or add a beat to a moment. Although the example below is mostly bleeds, you can see the one full panel at the bottom stands out because it’s not like the others. A subtle beat.

- They can also just be used to extend a panel to make it bigger. That seems obvious, but larger panels do make people spend a bit more time on them, regardless if there is text or not. Though, “more time” means probably several milliseconds or even a few seconds more than usual.

- Collaging with a bleed is a really great way to think beyond panels and open the space. You will be spending more time thinking of how much you can cram in along with the flow of how your text is going to lead through a series of images.

- Removing panel borders can really open a space and allow for more room without having to go above and beyond the ideas of comics and panels. (sorry, gale galligan is just good)

Gutters

The space between panels is almost just as important as the panel itself. That’s where readers and inferring actions and time. You can only control so much of what the reader is doing between their eye shifting between panels, which is why composition within panels and clarity are so important.

Gutters can also be played with! A simple example is changing your gutters from white to all black. It can be a subtle shift in time, a transition to a new space.

Even the amount of space between panels leaves an idea of time! I think webtoons/manhwa really work well with the gutter space, leaving you to physically scroll and feel the effects of time passing with the amount of empty space you encounter.

It’s important to understand that the gutter has a lot more to do with reader imagination, and your goal is to have them understand that the next panel is somehow plausible.

THIS SCENE EMFIELDS DID IS VERY FUCKING GOOD. TIME, SPACE, GO OOOOOOFFFF KING

Panels themselves can be a part story!

This one is a difficult thing to write for, since I feel like there isn’t many examples out there. There are very structural examples of panels out there, like Watchman. While the 9 panel grid was intentional, it also was likely the only way to deal with Alan Moore’s script effectively without missing details. The panels themselves don’t ENHANCE the story, but a means to an end.

But it’s also an incredibly good example of how conventional comics paneling can still be effective, especially when you start breaking that mold just a little bit.

But then you have comics like M. Dean’s “Baby fat”. Where the comic paneling itself never strays from its original structure, but is indicative of the story itself, representing tiles, mirrors, patterns.

Or Robert Hunter’s “The New Ghost” which he uses circular motifs and has circular panels representing the telescopes sight line.

Predicting Reader Navigation

These are my rules of thumb when doing general sight reading panel by panel.

1. Text is what people gravitate to first. It’s the context needed to approach the next panel.

2. Faces are next, this provides context to what the subject is feeling.

3. Familiar people/animals/objects and SFX.

4. Everything else!

This is an example of sight reading notes I gave to my friend Holocene when we were collaborating.

#long post #asks #blogging

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simplyreveries · 3 months

Note

hewwoooo i was the anon who requested the trey + vil with plus-sized reader :3 i really love your writing!!!! so expect me to come back here pretty often :D you can call me 🫀 anon from now on hehe (and also expect all my requests to be platonic except for trey oop)

im here for another request !! may i request the shroud brothers, vil, leona and trey with an ignihyde!reader ?? my self-insert is actually an ignihyde student based on the fates so i cant really insert myself into twst x readers with yuu!reader lol. no pressure tho <3

here ya go!! I'm super happy you liked my other one, I apologize for this one's wait i got busy!<3

idia shroud

it’ll take a while for the two of you to become any sorts of close. i can imagine your meetings (even though he's your own DORM LEADER lmao) will be brief and vague, sometimes seemingly halfhearted when he is forced to tell his dorm something, to which he usually just messages.

you’ll find him lurking and leaving his room in the late hours to get something or go the sam's mystery shop if it's still open for instant food or stuff of that sorts. nevertheless, you still are an ignihyde student so you two do seem to get along pretty well. even in those short moments— he finds himself being okay around you.

i guess you could say he is relieved you're one of the few people who won't make idia feel utterly awkward or uncomfortable running into so that's definitely some sort of a relief for him. in fact, that usually entails you two ending up hanging out together or doing something stupidly fun together.

ortho shroud

aside from idia he actually did make an effort to get to know you in the first place and in his attempts to get idia out more, suggested you guys hang out at times! he’d claim and tell idia how interesting of a person you were— plenty of stories as someone who even has been or lived in their homelands, the shaftlands!! he wants to see everyone in the dorm get along well. so, you may see him actively trying to get you and idia to be friends as well haha

im sure you two did become unlikely friends though it's inevitable, especially with ortho. he is happy to see his brother get along with you, its very common soon enough that you guys commonly hang out together.

ortho is very sweet whenever you pass him by in the dorm or in school always saying "hello" or asking how you're feeling. he's happy to be able to get along with others in his dorm.

vil schoenheit

he's curious about you quite a bit considering he knows how the reputation of ignihyde students are well…. very reclusive and don't really interact much with others and other dorms. he has worked with ignihyde students in the past with favors and needing stuff for his film making club (like the magical wheel he needed for epel once) which usually makes him prompt to coming towards you a lot to inquire and get any tech and gadgets that could be used for films they're making… even if you may not be the most outgoing person, he’ll surprisingly feel quite easy to talk to.

if you tend to take on the habits of your fellow dormmates or your dorm leader, he will once in a while tell you to make sure you're taking care of yourself and make sure you're doing things like self-care or sleeping right. it's nothing harsh or anything but it's a small way he looks out for you as he gets closer to you throughout time.

you're like a favored student of his from that dorm, he has grown to be pretty fond of. you've piqued his interest enough and helped him out too that he does seem kinder to you in ways.

leona kingscholar

originally, he really had no interested talking to or frankly being around any of that dorm. besides like idia during dorm leader meetings, he barely even knew anyone there despite it being at least his 4th year in that school. he still finds it, unusual and even strange that you've become rather close to him (even if that may feel one sided but it's just leona ok)

he does tend to feel more content and okay with you if you’re more on the quieter side anyway. he does grow a small sense of fondness to you— he even finds himself slightly surprised as your the last person he expected to garner his attention. but nevertheless, you found yourself nicely close to him even if he doesn’t show it the best.

leona sometimes makes quips or teases about your own dorm, how considerably different the two may be. especially a lot at first before you two grew closer, he just found it strange almost, to find yourself close to him.

trey clover

its funny because besides like ortho or idia and maybe a few various students of that dorm here and there in the school— ever so introverted and quiet he doesn't see that many of your dorm. even cater himself admits he doesn't seem to really know or have any friends from that dorm and he's cater! trey will muse he’s beaten cater at that by dating one.

you may have to get used to his dorm being pretty social, considering all the events they hold whereas you’re probably used to the cold and quiet ignihyde dorms. you may have to even adjust whenever you decide to come over and see trey, especially with people like cater or ace who are heavily social.

he hopes you’ll grow and find yourself comfortable there, you’ll find him laughing bashfully when pointing out their antics in comparison to the dormmates you're used to. you'll find him chuckling asking how you manage to put up with some of them, he can only imagine how different it must be for you.

#twst #twst x reader #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #twst imagines #twisted wonderland #trey x reader #idia shroud #ortho shroud #vil schoenheit #leona kingscholar

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bullet-prooflove · 11 days

Text

Graffiti: David Hale x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989

The first time David Hale meets you, he arrests you for spray painting a dick on your ex’s house. You’ve just finished off the balls when he slaps the cuffs on your wrists and escorts you to the police car with a smile because truthfully he takes pleasure in seeing Jax Teller so pissed off.

“You have impressive attention to detail.” He tells you with an amused expression as he starts the engine. “You could probably make it as an artist if you applied yourself.”

You laugh because that’s exactly what you do when you’re not drawing dicks or writing expletives on someone’s front door.

“Did you love him?” He asks, glancing in the mirror as he takes the scenic view to the station. You’re a refreshing change from the crowd he’s usually arresting on a Friday night. You’re entirely sober to start with and a complete spitfire.

“No.” You say as you look out of the window and stare out at the passing trees. “I just don’t appreciate him telling the rest of the group how I like to get fucked and inviting them to take a ride.”

He feels his jaw clench just a little when he hears that. It isn’t a secret that the club shares their women, that they’re nothing more than a commodity. You don’t seem like a croweater, they wouldn’t risk their status by doing something like graffitiing a dick on the house of the Vice President. He thinks you just got caught up in the allure of Jax Teller, the same way so many other young women have.

It’s about a mile away from the station that he decides to let you go. He doesn’t think you’ll be returning to the club anytime soon, you’ve made your point by tagging Teller’s house, he doesn’t think he’ll see any more trouble from you. He lets the car idle for a second under a streetlight before he steps outside and opens your door for you.

“Stay away from Teller.” He warns you as he undoes the cuffs on your wrists. “I’m not going to jam you up tonight but if I catch you at it again, it’ll be a different story.”

The next time you see each other is at a bar out of town, he goes there sometimes when he wants to be anonymous. Charming is a small town, everyone knows his face. He can barely go two steps down Main Street without someone complaining about their neighbour feeding the squirrels. Being away from that, it gives him mental space, allows him to breathe.

You look different when you slip into the stool alongside of him, your hair’s a little shorter, your makeup a little lighter. He likes the look, it suits you.

“Hey, it’s the graffiti artist,” He greets you as he takes a sip from his beer. “Drawn anything obscene recently?”

“No.” You smile back as you order an Old Fashioned. “But I’ve been life modelling for a couple of art students recently so I’m probably the subject of some.”

He almost spits out his beer, because you…

Truly, you are something else entirely.

You spend the night together at that bar, shooting pool, sharing a few beers. It’s been a while since he’s felt so relaxed, that he’d been just David instead of Sheriff Hale. You make him laugh until his ribs hurt, until he’s drunk off more than just the booze at the bar.

When he walks you home that night, he doesn’t expect you to kiss him, or undress him, or ride him like the beautiful, wild thing that you are.

When he wakes up the next morning he’s alone amongst your sheets, the scent of your perfume clinging to his skin. He raises his head to see you sitting in a chair across from the bed wearing his t-shirt from the night before with a sketchbook resting on your knees.

“I need this back.” He smiles, tugging at the hem when you raise to your feet and approach the bed.

“Take it off me.” You dare him, so he does and it starts all over again.

It isn’t until he’s tugging on his jeans an hour later that realises what you were drawing. It’s a picture of him, sleeping. He looks so peaceful in that moment, like he doesn’t carry the burdens of the world upon his shoulders.

“Is this how you see me?” He asks you, his throat tight with emotion.

You frown as if you don’t understand the question.

“That’s how you are.” You tell him as you tear the page out from your sketchbook and hand it to him. “Something to remember me by.”

“I don’t think I could ever forget you.” He tells you as he tucks it into his wallet.

It’s that night at the station when he’s sitting in his office that he takes it out again. His fingers trace over the pencil work and he can’t help but think that maybe this would be the man he could be if he was happier, if he didn’t hold onto everything so damn tightly. It isn’t until he folds it back up that he realises you’ve left your phone number on the back.

Call me the next time you want some fun, you’ve scrawled above it.

He pulls out his cell phone and dials.

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#david hale #sheriff david hale #david hale x reader #soa #sons of anarchy

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twisted-sickfics · 2 months

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Hell is Forever (But Thankfully Colds Aren’t)

thank you sm to anon who requested sick sneezy adam, i absolutely loved humbling this little asshole <3 love this guy and i hope you guys enjoy me torturing him

“Ugh, kill me now,” Adam groans for the umpteenth time that day. “I thought this was supposed to be heaven. Why are there still fucking colds in heaven?! hhuh… hh’TSHOO!”

“It’s by design,” Lute says, completely unfazed by the fact that Adam seems to refuse to cover a single sneeze. “If Angels were immune to illness or injury, that would take away our sense of purpose and self-preservation. Plus, it teaches us humility, something you desperately need.”

“Great,” Adam says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I bet it was that stupid princess and her spooky gremlin girlfriend that did this to me. *snff*”

“Through the hologram?” Lute asks, unimpressed.

“Through the fucking hologram!” he bemoans. “Hell and their crazy, weird-ass germs. I’m gonna exterminate the fuck outta those sinners when I get down thehh… hhH’HASSHOO!“

“Bless you,” Lute says. “What is that, the tenth time today?” It’s a joke intended to ruffle his feathers a bit, and it seems to accomplish just that.

“Oh, shut up,” Adam says, grabbing a tissue and blowing his nose loudly. He attempts to throw it like a basketball into the nearest trash can and misses. “I’m gonna kill whoever gave me this fucking cold. I feel like shit. How do I know if it’s the flu or just a cold again? Or is it something worse and I’m finally gonna kick the bucket?”

“You’re not dying,” Lute says, thoroughly exasperated. “You just have a cold and it’ll get better in a few days. The best thing to do is rest so you don’t make it worse. If you keep talking so much, you’ll hurt your throat.”

“Oh yeah? Says who?” Adam asks boisterously, though he immediately falls into a harsh coughing fit right after. “Lute—” he says between coughs, "I’m dying—”

Lute looks at her commander and briefly wonders about how difficult it would be to ascend to power. No, she decides, not today. She moves over to Adam’s side and pats his back in the least awkward way possible (for her). “Just breathe,” she says as gently as her voice allows. “It’ll pass.”

And it does. Adam catches his breath soon after and tries to brush it off as though nothing just happened and he didn’t just see the gates of heaven, well, outside of his day job.

“You’ve only been given a couple of days to rest,” Lute reminds him, not wanting to fall behind on important business. Heaven is very demanding, even for its higher-ups. “Think you’ll be fine by then?”

“No,” Adam says, and it’s starting to sound like he’s being genuine. Maybe. “Can’t imagine I can shake this in two days. I’m really getting my ass kicked here.” He blows his nose again, an unsettling gurgling sound.

Lute can’t believe this is her life. Yes, she is Adam’s lieutenant, but surely this is above her pay grade? Still, something inside her stirs and she can’t just leave him alone when he’s this miserable, can she?

Adam started feeling a little off the day prior, but he chalked it up to getting less sleep than usual. It was only when he woke up today that he realized just how fucked he was. He called Lute immediately, saying that he needed her for something very important. Apparently the “very important” thing is waiting on Adam hand and foot while he complains and throws tissues outside of the trash can.

“I might be able to get you a third day off if you really need it,” Lute says and she doesn’t miss the way Adam’s eyes light up in a way they haven’t all day. It would almost be cute if it wasn’t so pathetic. “But only if you’re not feeling better by tomorrow. I can’t having you shrugging off work when we have another extermination coming up.”

“Sounds goohh…good *snf* Hang on, I’m gonna…gonna snee— hH’ESCHIEW! hhH’ETCHHIU!“

“Bless you—”

“HH’ATSHHiew!”

“Bless you—”

“hH’ESCHHIU!”

It’s getting annoying at this point. Adam sneezes again and rubs his nose with his sleeve, which Lute winces at because of how much his nose was dripping just moments ago. She’ll have to clean that later, won’t she?

So far, Adam has asked for cough drops, a new box of tissues, a heating pad, the temperature to be turned down, more blankets, less blankets, more pillows, and a cup of tea. None of these things he attempted to get himself nor did he ask for any of them at the same time. It’s been a tough day for both of them.

“What, you’re not going to bless me?” Adam asks, pushing her buttons. He sniffles and Lute doesn’t know how much longer she can go hearing his sneezing, coughing, and sniffling. Not to mention his incessant talking that seems to stem from a place of boredom.

Being one of the only people Adam trusts enough to let into his circle (genuinely, and not just to use them for one of his whims) has its perks and its downsides. This is definitely one of the downsides.

But honestly…it’s not that bad. Lute has taken care of whinier people at some point in all of her years of existence, and this doesn’t even come close to that. It’s annoying, but it’s just Adam. Adam may be annoying, but he’s safe.

And if she were in his position, she would want to be taken care of and doted on too. She can’t really blame him, especially when he’s feeling as awful as she knows he is. His throat sounds better than it did earlier that morning, but he’s much more congested and lethargic. What he really needs is some rest, so what Adam doesn’t know is that there may or may not be a light sleep aid in his tea. She thought it would have kicked in by now.

Lute glares at him in response, and Adam laughs which just leads to more coughing. “Watch this be allergies,” he half-says, half-wheezes before he catches his breath.

“I don’t think it is, sweetheart,” Lute says coldly. She knows Adam isn’t allergic to anything other than fragrances and last time she checked, she’s not wearing any. There’s no way it’s anything but a nasty cold. He didn’t have a fever the last time she checked, and he doesn’t feel excessively warm when she leaves her hand on his back for a second longer to check his temperature.

There’s now a slight heaviness to his eyelids that he didn’t quite notice before. It’s making him feel out of it. “You really think those demon fuckers got one of our own?” he asks, suddenly quite serious. “That means any of one us…”

The suddenness of the question catches Lute off-guard. “Cease that line of thinking,” she demands. “All of us will be fine. It’s unfortunate that one of our own fell, but that will be the last angel they ever harm. Once we get down there on Extermination Day, we’ll—”

“hhH’ESSHHIU!”

“Never mind,” Lute sighs. “Just focus on recovering and then we can talk strategy later. Need anything from me right now? I can go get you some more tea if you need it.” It’s an offer she expects him to take her up on in a matter of seconds, but he’s oddly silent for a moment after she asks.

“Nah,” he eventually decides, “‘m fine like this. Just…hang around for a little while longer, yeah?” It’s the biggest show of vulnerability Adam is willing to display. Actually asking for help? For someone to stick by him in his rare moment of weakness? It’s almost unheard of.

But not impossible, evidently.

And who is Lute to ignore a direct request from her commander? It’s definitely not because she wants to stick around and make sure he’s alright. And it’s certainly not because she’s genuinely rly worried about him. Definitely not.

“Sure,” she agrees. “I suppose I have some free time.” Her entire schedule has been cleared just to look after Adam, but whether or not he knows that is debatable. “Sneeze on me and I’ll kill you,” she warns.

“You really think I’d do thahht… HH’ETTSHIEW!”

Thankfully, Lute has the foresight to quickly grab a tissue and cover his sneeze. “Bless you,” she says. “And stop spreading your germs everywhere. You don’t want to get anyone else sick, do you?”

“Ub, I do’t really care,” Adam says, taking the tissue from Lute’s hand and blowing his nose for what is starting to feel like the millionth time that day. “I just want this fucking cold to be finished with me and move on to the next guy.”

‘The next guy’ will probably be Lute at this rate, with the way he’s sneezed on practically every surface of this room by now. A small part of her doesn’t want to blame him because he genuinely seems to have no clue what he’s doing when it comes to just…being sick. But that’s only a small part of her.

“Why am I so tired?” Adam asks, yawning loudly. His eyes start to droop shut, but he manages to keep himself awake for now. He rolls over in bed and sniffles.

“Who knows?” Lute knows. “It’s probably just the cold making you tired. It’s good to get some rest, anyway. Have you actually slept at all?” Knowing Adam, the answer is probably “no.” The lack of a sense of self-preservation is astonishing.

As expected, he shakes his head. “I just can’t sleep when my nose is all clogged, y’know? It’s a little better today though, so I might actually be able to sleep tonight.”

Good boy, she thinks. Go to sleep and stop being my problem. Instead, what she says is, “I think it’ll do you some good to try and rest. You sound terrible.”

“I sound perfectly fine,” Adam insists, though the congested sniffle he gives immediately afterwards doesn’t exactly lend itself to his point. “Just tryin’ to…sleep…”

He’s slowly starting to doze off. Lute keeps herself still, trying not to startle him so he’ll actually fall asleep. It seems to work because she can hear his congested snores in a matter of minutes.

Great, her shift is over. For now. But…why does she feel kind of bad? It’s not like Adam’s never been sick before, but getting sick right after announcing an extermination in sixth months is unfortunate timing. Plus, he does seem really sick. No healthy person would sneeze that much.

“Sleep well,” she says softly, making sure Adam is really asleep before turning off the lights and leaving the room.

He’ll be fine, but a part of her is worried about what’s to come.

#snz #sickfic #snzario #snzblr

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babyyweebbitch · 1 year

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Helping simon with a panic attack

:3 the flashbacks are dark btw 🧍🏾‍♀️

content warning : female reader , childhood trauma , panic attack , crying , flashbacks ,

simon gets panic attacks and flash backs a lot — sometimes it’s just one and most of the time it’s both at the same time. it’s PTSD from his childhood and he never got help for it because he didn’t wanna be looked at as “weak” or “a sissy” in people’s eyes. he was always told men deal with their stuff by themselves and he now knows that’s not true after dating you for so long and you takings him to the doctors every so often and signing him up for therapy. he usually has you schedule the therapy sessions for when hes home for long periods of time. they even gave him medicine that he forgets to take alot

simon was home for about a few months since he had a pretty bad injury and he needed to heal. you somehow got your job to let you work from home so you can take care of him and work at the same time. recently he’s been doing pretty good on his own, he’s been able to walk himself, eat, bathe and he even started working out a little bit just to get some strength back slowly.

one night you were working in your office, typing away at your laptop and going through paperwork. simon was left in the bedroom trying to sleep and he knew you were working later tonight so he tried not to bother you, but he wasn’t feeling well — mentally. he was alone so his mind wandered. at first it wasn’t bad. he was thinking about innocent things at first that slowly turned into dark thoughts and then he got flashbacks of his childhood… to when he was being hurt by his father and how he made him do things he hated.

simon tried his hardest to not think about it so he got up and went to go make a sandwich. on his way he passed by your office seeing a glimpse of you working made him feel slightly better. he almost went in to check on you and start a conversation but he again didn’t wanna bother you. while he was getting out all the stuff to make a sandwich he looked down at a slice of meat and got a flashback to a dead animal his father made him kiss. he closed his eyes and shook his head before slowly backing away from the counter and leaning against the fridge. he heard his father’s voice

“c’mon simon! it’s just a dead snake! wont do nothing to you” the voice said. simon put his hands over his ears trying to block out the sound but it didn’t work. he started breathing heavy and felt tears form in his eyes

“go away…. go away — fuck go away!” simon yelled out and his yelling alerted you in the office. you got up to see what was happening and when you entered the kitchen area you saw the sandwich stuff laying out and then as you got closer you saw simon against the fridge in a panicked state. he slid down the fridge and put his head on his knees as if trying to protect himself from something. you know it’s never a good idea to touch him unless he asks or does it for if he’s having a panic attack so you speak instead, inching closer to him

“simon? what’s happening?”

“h…he won’t leave! he won’t go away! please make him go away!” he looked up to see you and he was full on crying now. when he got like this he felt like a kid — a defenceless child, not the big scary man with military experience and has killed hundreds. in the state he was in right now he didn’t know the difference. you immediately went over to him and once you were close enough he grabbed onto your arm as a way of protection.

“simon, nobody but us are here right now — what you’re seeing isn’t real, my love. you’re having a panic attack and it’ll pass by soon” you used that kind voice you’ve used with him over the years. he wrapped his arms around you and placed his head on your chest. he started crying — full on sobbing into your shirt and you held him as tightly as you could without suffocating him. and honestly at this point he probably wants to be suffocated

after a few minutes of him crying and saying how he was being hurt but you immediately put him back on track and told him nobody was hurting him he calmed down a bit. he obviously didn’t let go of you though

“what’s on your mind now, honey?” you asked rubbing the back of his head with one hand and making little circles on his back with the other

“you have to get back to wo—“

“work can wait, Simon. you’re more important”

“but i — your boss will get mad at you”

“and? i don’t care — you are the only thing on my mind right now. you are the most important thing to me. i will always help you and make sure you are okay before ever thinking about anything else” simon looked up at you and then he hugged you once again. these are moments he feels he doesn’t deserve such a nice person like you. he took a deep breath before he sat up all the way and you wiped his eyes for him “now — i can make you something to eat and drink and you can sit in my office until about 1:30 or i can stop work early and we can go sleep”

“the first option sounds nice…” he said. you smiled and helped him up from the floor. you went to make him a sandwich and made him some tea the way he likes it, simon kinda just lingered around you until you were finished. you put everything back in the fridge/cabinets before you and simon waddled back to your office like little penguins. simon had the tendency stick around you for a long time after a panic attack because you made him feel better. he also didn’t want to sleep because he was scared of having a panic attack mid sleep. it’s happened before and he hated it because he wasn’t home around you (he lingered around soap for a few hours after because he was the only one he trusted besides you)

during the rest of the night you and simon talked about random things as you worked to ease his mind. he was staring at you every time you spoke about something from work or mumbled something on your computer/paper to yourself during moments of silence. he was admiring you and he still thought he didn’t deserve a person like you. you were literally the definition of perfect to him and he couldn’t trade you for the world. he honestly wonders what you saw in him to be this nice to him

✨Bonus✨

the next morning you ended waking up before simon. he had the habit of sleeping in pretty late and he was also a deep sleeper at home, so unless you were in danger and he sensed it or the house got broken into to or the house is literally burning to the bone — he’s not waking up. he also sleeps hella heavy meaning he’s like a sand bag, if his arm is over you while he sleeps your fighting demons trying to get him off and if he senses you’re moving his arm off you, he’ll plamp it back on you and somehow it’s heavier than last time

after you were done wrestling his arm for about 20 minutes you got up, took a shower and went to go make breakfast — but not any breakfast his favourite breakfast. you had the tendency to baby him after a panic attack — you both don’t know why but simon likes it, even though he pretends he doesn’t but we all know he does.

simon woke up to the smell of bacon and the sound of you singing to yourself. he got up dragged himself to the kitchen, he was rubbing his eyes and saw you dancing around in the kitchen, singing and waiting for the toast to pop up from the toaster. he literally felt like he was in a movie and this was the opening scene.

“whatcha makin?”

you jumped at the sound of his voice randomly behind you and you turned to see he was standing there. he chuckled at your getting startled and he went to sit at the table

“your favourite breakfast — also you gotta give a girl a warning!” you joked as you got the toast from the toaster and went to make his plate “how’d you sleep?”

“good — but you were wrestling my arm for 20 minutes”

“you were awake?!”

“yep — i gave you a hard time on purpose”

you stood there with your hand on your hip and one hand on the counter tapping it with your finger

“what? it’s funny” he said half laughing

“hmph — maybe you don’t get breakfast today” you said with a fake attitude

“that’s rude — i was shot… seven times”

“guilt tripping?”

“and it’s working”

you both stared at each other for a second before you laughed and gave him his plate

“dork, eat up and eat as much as you want — i made alot because i’m gonna have to go to the office today for some stuff and i’m not gonna be home until one.” you said grabbing your bag and putting your shoes on “if you need anything call me and i’ll change your bandages when i get back”

“you just changed them yesterday”

“simon, i changed them monday”

“what day is it today?”

“friday”

“ahh….”

you went over to give him a kiss on the cheek and you went off to the office. simon watched as you left and he got up to try and clean up a bit so you came home later to a clean house

in conclusion — he big boi and he loves you

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty headcanons #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley headcanons #ghost #ghost headcanons #ghost x reader

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