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pitchsidestories · 5 months ago

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More than a pretty face II Alessia Russo x Williamson!Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1630

summary: Leah is the third wheel whenever she’s with your girlfriend Alessia and you. While the striker struggles with her body image.

author's note: hi everyone, we combined the request with an idea we had in the back of our mind and we hope you'll like the mix of lightheartedness and heavier topics. 🤍❤️

Post-training dinners were one of your favourite team traditions. Every few weeks, after a long, hard session, the entire Arsenal squad would go out for a meal. You loved the combination of good food and conversations with your friends. It was something that you were looking forward to every time.

Too preoccupied with arguing with your sister, you completely forgot about the pasta before you. At least until you heard Kyra giggle on the other side of the table.

“Lessi, are you kidding?”, she laughed.

You watched Alessia frown at her: “Why?”

“There’s only green on your plate.”, Kyra grimaced in disgust, pointing at your girlfriend’s salad.

“Yeah, I wanted a salad.”

You studied her plate from across the table. No toppings, no dressing, just plain salad.

Leah involved herself in their conversation: “Nothing wrong with that. Kyra, you could need some greens too.”

Kyra wrinkled her nose again: “Ew.”

Alessia shrugged, smiling: “She’s not wrong.”

It was a polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Yes, she is. That’s not what you need after a long training session.“, Kyra complained jokingly.

You bit your lip and watched as your girlfriend discussed different food choices with your teammates.

With nervous fingers, you tapped Beths arm and whispered: “Beth?”

The midfielder turned to you: “Hm?”

“I feel like Lessi… I think the comments about her appearance got to her.”, you carefully formulated the worry that had begun to appear in your chest. Suddenly, your stomach was in knots, you weren’t hungry anymore.

“You think so?”, Beth asked in surprise.

“I do… Look.”

She followed your gaze towards Alessia.

“The salad?”

You nodded cautiously: “Yes. Do you think I’m paranoid?”

Alessia had struggled before with her body image, you knew that. So, every sign of changes in her eating pattern sent a subtle wave of panic through your body.

Beth sighed: “I think if you really want to know, you should talk to her.”

You forced a smile: “Ugh, why are you always right?”

“Sorry.“

“Always, right? What did you two chat about?”, Leah asked innocently.

Beth shrugged and deliberately lied to your sister: “Football stuff.”

“Yes, things you wouldn’t understand, Lee.”, you joked, teasing her.

Leah rolled her eyes at you as she so often did: “Oh yeah, because I obviously don’t play football.”

“You do but no that up front.”, you explained.

“Still.”

“Will you drive with us to this team activity thing next week?”

“Nah, I don’t want to be the third wheel again between you two lovers.”, Leah quickly shook her head.

Beth snorted: “You don’t mind that any other time either.”

“And it's not our fault that your girlfriend is American”, you added in a teasing tone, which earned you a playful slap from your sister.

Her lips formed to a pout:” Doesn’t take away from the fact that I don’t want to hang out with you two. I’m driving with Lia and Kim.”

“Oh, wow.”, you whistled, pretended to be offended by her decision.

This didn’t stop the defender from mockingly continuing: “Besides, you’re a horrible driver.”

“Thanks, Lee.”, you rolled your eyes at her.

It was the night of your team activity, usually it involved dinner and games, and you were leaning against the open door of your bedroom to check on your girlfriend:” You’re ready, Lessi? We should be leaving soon?”

“No, I hate my outfit.”, she groaned in frustration, still laying on the bed.

When you noticed the dried tears on her cheeks, your heart broke a little. In the late afternoon light, the blonde looked gorgeous, and you wished she could see herself as you saw her, the striker was even sadly breathtaking.

You gently took Alessia's hands, in which she had hidden her face: “Less, you look beautiful.”

“I don’t.”, the forward replied with a trembling voice.

“Alessia?”

“Yes?”, your girlfriend glanced up at you.

Softly, you asked her:” Would you like to change into something more comfortable?”

“Can I wear your sweater?”, a small smile appeared on the blonde’s lips.

In one quick swipe you pulled off your oversized pullover to hand it to her: “You.. yes, you can have it.”

Alessia pressed the garment gratefully to her chest and explained:” It’s just the comfiest thing.”

In a sincere tone, you whispered into her ear: “You also look very cute in it.”

For a second, she beamed at your words before her grin disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving only a gloomy expression on her face. “Do you think the comments are wrong or right?”, the striker questioned.

“I knew it was about the comments.”, you mumbled.

“And oh god, maybe I’m a bad role model if I sometimes don’t feel confident in my own body.”, your girlfriend panicked.

Soothingly you began to stroke her back: ”Lessi, calm down.”

“Sorry.”

You cupped her face tenderly in your hands, hoping that your sentences reached her:” Listen, it’s normal not to feel confident all the time. No one does. You’re not doing anything wrong and you’re not a bad role model.”

“But you and your sister look so perfect.”, Alessia protested weakly.

“That’s not true, Less. We’re not perfect, no one is.”

She smiled sheepishly: “At least you’re perfect to me.”

Apparently, your words began to have an effect, because the striker added cheekily: “Aside from the fact that you snore at night, it's not exactly Sleeping Beauty-like.”

“Shut up!”, you playfully hit her arm with the pillow.

Alessia giggled. The sound was like music to your ears.

A little smirk appeared on her face: “Make me.”

You were only too willing to bridge the gap between the two of you and put your lips on hers until your girlfriend was too out of breath to keep talking.

But before you could make a move, Alessia interrupted herself after checking the time on her phone: “Actually, wait for it until after team bonding.”

You heaved a frustrated sigh but still slipped into your jacket: “Fine. Ready to go?”

“I’m ready.”

You both left your apartment but before you got into Alessias car, you took her hand and held her back: “Less?”

Alessia turned towards you: “Huh?”

“You’re beautiful and you’re a great athlete, okay? It doesn’t matter what other people think.”, you assured her one last time.

She nodded thoughtfully: “Okay.”

“Okay, now let’s go, pretty girl.”, you smiled at her.

You got into the passenger seat of her car while Alessia drove.

“I hope they got Pizza on the menu so we can share.”, your girlfriend said suddenly.

You laughed, surprised by her comment: “Oh no. You always say that and then you’ll complain that the pizza in Italy is better.”

“It’s true! Nothing beats Pizza in Italy.”

“See?”, you rolled your eyes with a laugh.

“Okay, fine. I still want to share Pizza with you.”

“Me too.”, you grinned. Your heart skipped a beat, seeing how excited Alessia seemed to be.

You arrived at the location five minutes late and you would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for your sister.

“Hi, you two are fashionably late.”, she greeted you with a wink.

You shrugged and lied to her: “My fault. We had to make out in the car first.”

Leah grimaced: “Disgusting.”

“Oh, someone’s a gremlin again.”, Alessia teased.

Your sister pouted and turned to Lia: “Wally, they’re impossible.”

“You love them.”, the Swiss player replied matter-of-factly.

“Sadly, I do but don’t tell them.”

“I would never. But I’m sure they know, you love to hang out of them.”, Lia laughed.

“Even when I feel left out sometimes because look at them.”, Leah complained, pointing at where you and Alessia were studying the menu.

Lia grinned: “They’re a couple and you’re surprised about that?”

“Elle and I are not that bad.”

You looked up and glared at your sister: “Yes, you are.”

“Shut up.”, Leah retorted.

You shook your head: “No. The pizzas arrived, my friends.”

Alessias eyes lit up as a server placed the plate in front of her: “Finally.”

The good food, lively conversations with your teammates and your girlfriend’s genuine smile warmed your heart and soul.

Once the dinner was over Leah gave you a short hug:” Drive home safely.”

“You’re not driving with us?”, you asked astonished.

The defender paused for a moment, pretending to think carefully about the question, before answering with a grin on her lips:” Actually, yes, I’ll come with you, but only if Alessia drives.”

Gallantly, Alessia opened the passenger doors and bowed slightly to you both:” Get inside my passenger princesses.”

“Excuse me. I’m the passenger princess, she can sit in the backseat.”, you promptly protested.

“Ugh, fine.”, Leah grimaced as the blonde sat down right behind you.

With a sweet smile, you turned your head towards your sister:” Sorry, big sis.”

“You’re not really sorry.”, the older woman observed her arms crossed in front of her chest.

Your giggles filled the car:”No.”

Amused, Alessia shook her head and turned up the volume on the radio. Once her car stopped in front of the defender’s house, she said:” Good night, Leah.”

“Night, girls.”, the blonde waved goodbye and skipped buoyantly to her front door.

On the way to your home, your girlfriend began nervously.” Amore, I thought about what you said earlier.”

“And?”

“You were right.”, Alessia conceded.

The car stopped at the red light, the rain pattering on the roof, as you hugged her from the side with relief and gave her a kiss on the cheek: “You’re so much more than a pretty face, Lessi, please never forget that.”

“And so are you.”, she replied in an earnest tone, pressing her lips gently to your hand.

Then Alessia continued the drive through the night, the lights of London guiding you both to your home.

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grandline-fics · 10 months ago

Note

Hey! Can you do "Secretly Dating" (maybe with + "Desesperate Kiss") with Sabo and Ace, please?? I LOVE YOUR STORIES!!

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Secretly Dating w/ Desperate Kiss

WARNINGS: fluff

CHARACTERS: Sabo, Ace

WORDS: 1,786

A/N: Thank you for this request. I'm getting over being sick and thought something fluffy would be nice. I hope this matches what you were looking for and that you enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

SABO

The attraction had been there from the second you joined the Revolutionaries. When Sabo heard your name spill from Dragon’s lips at your introduction, he swore it was a name he'd never forget. From then he’d found himself falling a little more and more under your charm and in need to just savour a little more of the attention you turned his way. Had he been slightly selfish at times and organised things so that you and he would work the same mission? Yes. Had he thought he was being subtle? Also yes. So imagine his surprise one mission when you’d playfully asked “Are you just trying to keep me to yourself Chief?” To that he had admitted the answer was yes.

He had also tried to apologise to you for his behaviour, his confession of his attraction towards you but you’d silenced him with a kiss to let him know you’d felt the same way about him. From that mission the two of you had fallen headlong into a relationship but for now you were both determined to keep it a secret. Partly because it made things a little more fun, it made your relationship just yours, no-one else needed to be told just yet. There was also the worry of how it would look. The Chief of staff with a subordinate could sound wrong with the right tone. In your case you also worried if people would assume you were just using Sabo, sleeping with him to be given better missions. So for now you both enjoyed your secret.

You woke slowly one morning and yawned, stretching out only to smile sleepily when Sabo groaned in your ear. After all this time he should have been used to the routine by now. On the nights you managed to sneak to his room undetected you had to wake earlier that usual to sneak back to your quarters but with each passing morning, Sabo seemed to get increasingly reluctant to let you go. Lightly you tapped his arm and pushed yourself to sit up in the bed only to grunt when Sabo forced his weight against you, trapping you on the mattress. With a smile you flicked his forehead and reminded him. “Chief, I gotta get to my own room.”

“Noooo.” Sabo stretched out his protest like a child and you grinned, meeting his stare softly while waiting for him to finally let you go. Your amusement only grew when he pouted. “At least give me a kiss before you go.” You were only too happy to comply but just before your lips could touch a loud knock sounded at Sabo’s door and a Revolutionary called for Sabo with strict instruction that Dragon urgently needed him. Unable to ignore that, Sabo hurriedly got out of bed and dressed to report to Dragon while you managed to sneak back to your quarters to ready yourself for the day without anyone noticing.

Throughout the day you felt Sabo’s stare on you, even when you glanced over your shoulder and saw him talking with someone else you knew what you felt. Then when you were walking down the corridors to head to a meeting you were shocked to be pulled sharply into the closest room, your back pressed against the door as Sabo’s lips claimed yours desperately, pulling you headlong into the feeling and responding with equal fervour. You hadn’t had a kiss like it before. Finally you caught your breath when Sabo finally pulled away just enough to lay his head against yours. “That was for the kiss I didn’t get this morning.” He explained. “Felt like I was going to go crazy if I had to wait any longer.”

“If we stay in here any longer someone’s going to find us…” You warned lightly, reaching up to thread your fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck but neither of you were in a rush to move.

“Maybe I want someone to find out.” Sabo murmured, his eyes set firmly on your lips. "This morning I didn’t want you to sneak away. I wanted you to sit with me at breakfast. Even just to hold your hand in a meeting…”

You couldn’t deny that it all sounded so much better than the constant hiding and distancing yourself from the one person you had the strongest connection to. Smiling you took Sabo’s hand and held it tightly, gently jerking your head at a silent sign to leave the room. If you were both going to stop being a secret, you may as well do it right and arrive late to a meeting together hand in hand.

ACE

“Ace?” Silence. “Ace?” Your voice lilted up a little more, calling out in the hopes it would bring a response. With a heavy sigh you strained your neck over the railing of the crow’s nest to see the crew bustling about and talking amongst themselves. Unable to stretch anymore you slumped back against the wall and let out a huff, scowling down at the man lying awkwardly across your lap. You’d both been in the middle of discussing the second division’s tasks when the Moby Dick docked at the next island when Ace was hit with his narcolepsy and he all but collapsed on top of you. You had been lucky to catch Ace just enough to avoid the two of your toppling over the raining of the crow’s nest but now you were stuck sitting on the floor while waiting for Ace to wake. At least it was a good day, this would have been harder to deal with if it was pouring with rain.

Absently you began to think about your relationship with Ace. Admittedly things had started very roughly between the two of you. When you were first part of Whitebeard’s crew, you had initially been told you’d be part of Ace’s division but at that, Ace clumsily blurted out that he didn’t want you. That had stung and you took it to heart, wondering angrily what he had against you when he didn’t even know you. Still his words had been enough to make it so you were placed under another division. From that day and for the first few months of your recruitment you had a fierce dislike of Ace while also wanting to prove yourself to him, to prove him wrong for not wanting you. The truth of the matter was that when Ace saw you for the first time he was smitten, his attraction immediate so when he was shocked by the decision he’d be your commander he reacted badly. He’d been too busy fantasising about asking you out and the thought of being your commander while dating was against some sort of rule so without thinking he’d said he didn’t want you. Unfortunately the damage had been done and you’d wanted nothing to do with him after that.

He only finally got to clear the air with you one night at a bar. Ace had tried to stop you from getting into a fist fight with a different pirate and had to carry you away. Angrily you’d shoved at Ace and demanded to know what his issue with you had been. Unable to hold back Ace had confessed his feelings and at first you’d thought it was a joke but then you’d seen how serious he was. After that you’d slowly come around to him, realising that a lot of your frustration with him had also come from a place of attraction and unintentional rejection. The two of you began your romance with each other but had decided to keep it a secret from the crew, letting yourselves have fun in playing like you still had issues with each other. Finally you felt Ace stir and you glanced down at him, forcing yourself to glower at him. “I had shit to do y’know and none of it involved being your pillow…”

“Well isn’t that too bad for you.” Ace retorted gruffly, his dark eyes betraying his playfulness. You rolled your eyes at him and shoved the rim of his hat further down so you hid yourself from his view. Ace grinned, a new idea sparking in his mind. Quickly he swatted your hand away, readjusted his hat, and grabbed a hold of your waist and pulled you away from the wall so you were lying on the crow’s nest floor. The abruptness of it caused you to shriek out in surprise which caught the attention of Marco. The both of you tensed at the sound of his blue flamed wings lazily cutting through the air. By the time he landed on the railing and looked down at you both, Ace had already flopped down, his head against your chest. Marco chuckled at the sight. “What’s up with your two-yoi?”

“He fell asleep on me again when I was lecturing him for the first time.” You managed out to the first division commander who laughed. Instead of even offering to help, Marco left you to your fate. In his head he believed he was doing you a favour, thinking this might be something that bring you and Ace closer instead of at odds over a misunderstanding. Little did he know this was exactly what Ace had wanted. When Marco was back on deck, you felt Ace grin against you. “You can’t lie on top of me forever…”

“But you’re so comfy…”Ace lifted his head enough to smirk at you. “My favourite sleeping place.”

“Only until the novelty wears off and you find a new pillow.” You joked but paused when Ace’s smile dropped slightly, worry taking over his expression. Did you think he was only with you for the excitement of it being a secret? Were you worried he would look at someone else the way he looked at you? Did you still think about his clumsy declaration that he didn’t want you in his division and believe that he didn’t want you? No, he couldn’t take that chance. Pushing up just enough Ace kissed you firmly and deeply, desperate to pour every ounce of his feelings for you into the kiss, to tell you how much he wanted you. Only you. Relief took over him when you returned the kiss and pulled back to smile at him in the way that always made his heart skip a beat. “You’re meant to be sleeping remember?”

Ace smiled when you lightly pressed a quick kiss on the tip of his nose and lay back, your eyes closing as your body relaxed. Since you lied about Ace falling asleep again, you both may as well make the most of the situation.

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa

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junkpuppet225 · 1 month ago

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Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

summary: Daryl makes you cry and instantly regrets it. Early Alexandria Era. Reader lost her entire family when the world went to hell and the thought of opening herself up to that kind of love again terrifies her.

warnings: I think I just managed one curse word in this one. No smut. Drop of angst, dash of fluff. Enjoy!

a/n: This is another short blurb from the mind of @dixondisease! Thanks for the inspo! I hope you love it! Quickly written and barely proof read. Enjoy! 💋

- - - - - -

“You don’t want this heart. It’s already broke.”

Daryl chews at his bottom lip as your quiet words pierce his soul - blue eyes cast down at rough hands hanging between his knees. You sit beside him on the front porch of your borrowed home in Alexandria staring out into the vacant streets like they hold the answers to all of life’s questions. Like why someone as strong as Daryl just poured his heart out to you? You’re all on borrowed time in this dying world and putting a label on whatever this is seems pointless. One of you will be dead sooner rather than later.

You want to protect his heart from what splintered yours into a million pieces.

“Daryl it’s just not worth—-.”

There’s so many things he wants to say - to make you realize he doesn’t have the communication skills needed to have these types of conversations - he doesn’t know the right words to explain how much you mean to him. He wants to assure you he can mend your broken heart. That what he feels for you is worth the risk of dying if he only gets to be yours for a day but instead he says something he’ll regret for the rest of his life.

“You’re right…, ain’t worth it.”

You ain’t worth it.

Four grumbled words seal his fate and taste bitter on his tongue. You’re worth it. You’re worth everything but he’ll be damned if he’s going to sit here and let you rip his heart from his chest. You above anyone should know life’s to short for what ifs.

The way you flinch as he shoots to his feet stops him from storming off - forcing his eyes to lock with yours as you lift your sorrowful gaze - fresh tears filling their depths. When the first tear betrays you he feels his own heart crack in his chest bringing him down to your side again. His anger dissolves into pure panic as his hands sink into your hair. There’s no denying the love you have for him - it’s pouring out of your watery gaze with the tears cascading down your cheeks. He should know better than anyone how hard it is to give your heart to someone when you feel like you’re not worthy of their love.

Desperate words flood brain - short sentences he doesn’t know how to verbalize without them coming out wrong. Words that get caught in the back of his throat and choke him.

I’m sorry. I love you. You’re worth it. You’re worthy of my love - you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to give it to.

Instead he just whispers please don’t cry as his rough thumbs brush the tears away from your beautiful face. You let your eyes fall - soft sobs bubbling up from your chest as you try to pull away. He’s right. You’re not worth it. All the trauma you’ve faced…, it isn’t worth fighting for. You aren’t worth fighting for.

Daryl deserves so much better - someone who isn’t so utterly broken on the inside. Someone who hasn’t lost everyone she’s ever loved to this new world.

He whispers your name softly begging you to take a breath and stop crying because of him but it’s no use. Looking into his ocean eyes only reminds you that loving him puts him at a risk you can’t begin to comprehend. Losing him would crush you. The thought of him putting your safety before his…, the thought of him getting killed because of you brings a loud sob to your lips.

“…no no no no… don’t cry. Please don’t cry. M’s-sorry.” It’s took him months to get up the courage to tell you how he feels about you and unsurprisingly he’s managed to screw it up. He just wanted… more with you now that there’s walls and stability but you’re not ready - he sees that now and he’ll wait for you because you’re worth waiting for. “Yer worth it. Yer so fuckin’ worth it y/n. I love you. I didn’t mean—-.”

You shake your head, heart twisting in your chest at his desperate words. “…love makes you weak Daryl…” You whisper as he tightens his fingers in your hair, closing his eyes as your broken words sear the knife deeper into his heart. He’s presses his forehead against yours pulling needed air into his lungs. “…then let me be weak for once Y/N.”

His soft words only make you cry harder as you jerk your face from his grasp and push to your feet quickly. “Weak means dead in this world! You can’t ask me to let you die.” You sob flying down the steps and into the street to get away from him. Why couldn’t he just leave things how they were? Stolen kisses during supply runs. Two lonely people searching for solace in the darkness. Physical you were good at - this emotional shit ruined everything.

You will your legs to move - to run right through these suffocating gates and back into the wilderness. Out there things are simple - survive. Inside Alexandria there’s hope and promise and the gut retching realization that you want what Daryl wants. You want all of him and everything he has to offer. The thought slows your attempt to leave then Daryl’s at your back wrapping strong arms around your middle as he buries his face in the bend of your shoulder.

“Please stop cryin’. I didn’t mean to make ya cry. It’s rippin’ me up inside.” He whispers against your neck placing soft kisses along the tender spot just below your ear. “Please….”

You try to take in a deep breath but it’s no use, his warm lips against your skin rack your body with sobs. “M’sorry…, yer everything to me. We can take things slow…, ain’t gotta rush into nothin’ I jus’… jus’ wanna be with ya anyway I can.” Daryl pleads pressing his head against the back of yours as his own heartache nearly cripples him. “Please…”

“D-Daryl… I w-want…”

He grips your waist as he turns you to face him keeping his eyes cast down while his forehead meets yours again.

“I’ll do whatever ya want… whatever ya need…” He whispers as his hands find your hair again sinking his fingers in deep - idly pulling you closer to him. The heat from his body helps calm you - the slow rise and fall of his chest against yours soothing your own heartache away. “I w-want you Daryl. I want… everything with you I just… just d-don’t want to lose you too. My heart can’t take losing you too.” His thumbs return to your cheeks brushing away more tears as you step into his warmth - your lips nearly touching as he takes in a quick breath, eyes closing tightly. “Ya won’t lose me. I’ll claw my way outta hell to find ya.” The slight smile that spreads across your face brings on his as you lean into his kiss, sliding your hands up his chest to grasp either side of his neck.

“Jus’ give this a chance and I promise I’ll never make ya cry again.” Daryl whispers against your lips as you nod deepening the kiss quickly as he pulls you closer letting his hands fall down to your hips to grasp them roughly. If it’s the last thing he ever does he’ll prove that you’re worth it.

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #the walking dead #daryl x y/n #daryl x female reader

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prongsx · 9 months ago

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Lazy Sundays

warning: fluff, f!reader, Jason being a cute guy. English its not my first language. established relationship.

Jason had always been an alert person. It was tiring, but he couldn't help it. Life forced him to never rest.

It started when he was still young, he had to be alert so he wouldn't die in the alley of crime, if he made a false move he could end up in a web of crimes and murders. He had to be alert to keep his own mother from self-destruction, had to be constantly checking her breathing, if she had eaten, if she hadn't used her subsistence money for drugs. He learned that being a heavy sleeper was dangerous when his house was shot at and he had to hide under the table, eyes full of tears.

Then Bruce adopted him, but he had already lost part of his ability to be a child, never carefree. And now he had the burden of showing Bruce that he was good enough, that he wasn't wasting his time training a boy with too many emotions. Always alert. He had too many emotions, he knew that. His love was wide and deep, but so was his anger. His sadness was like sharp claws scratching his skin from the inside out. He needed to stay alert to keep his emotions in check, because they could consume him.

Being Robin kept him alert, he needed to take care of himself and Batman's back. Even Dick, who had years of training, found Jason too vigilant, his eyes never seemed genuinely relaxed and Dick found out the hard way. He went to play a prank on Jason, waking him up in the middle of the night, but the boy reacted in the worst way and before Dick could react, there was a knife pressed against his neck.

When Jason died and came back with Red Hood, his sense of survival became stronger. There were too many people wanting to kill him, the anti-hero had twice as many enemies, sleeping in peace was not an option. He had so many knives and hidden weapons that he would get scared when he went to brush his teeth and found an AK 47 in the bathroom cabinet. He needed to be like that to survive.

Then he met you. And his knees got weak, his heart raced faster than when he had a gun pointed straight at the vigilante's heart. After much difficulty, you started dating, even though Jason warned you that dating him was a death sentence.

You didn't listen to his warnings, forcing him to stop self-deprecating and start acting like a functional adult (as much as possible) to be in a relationship. Jason was right, he was too busy with his double life. He almost never relaxed, worried about taking care of you and protecting you from his enemies.

After a few fights, you decided that for the relationship to work, you would have at least one day a week to be lazy. You started it: Sunday morning. You needed to know that at least one day a week you would have Jason completely. It was hard to live with the distance his night shift required. So he committed to keeping up this new tradition.

"I'm hungry," Jason just mumbled in response to your plea. It was 10 am on a Sunday morning and neither of you were willing to get up, just like you forced them to. Your legs were intertwined, a thin sheet covering you, Jason's hands holding you tightly against him, his soft lips against your shoulder. The sun was coming in through the curtains, Gotham seemed silent, the only noise that mattered to you was each other's breathing.

"The bakery should be delivering by now," Jason replied, sighing contentedly as you drew patterns on his arm. One of the rules of Sunday morning was to make no effort, even cooking. You knew Jason liked to cook and take care of you, but at least one day a week you allowed yourself the luxury of eating ready-made food.

"It should be at the door by now," you mumble, finally opening your eyes and finding your boyfriend's beautiful face. Jason imitated your action, his sapphire eyes seemed clouded with sleep, which pleased you. Yesterday you had gone out to dinner and stayed up late watching movies and kissing on the couch, which explained how tired they both were.

"Let's get it then," Jason's voice was still hoarse, his black hair cutely messy. He let out a groan of complaint when you pulled away from him to get up, causing you to laugh.

As soon as you established lazy Sunday, it was as if a switch had turned in Jason's head. It was impressive to admire how beautiful Jason looked relaxed, his shoulders without all that tension, his features less marked and even his scars relaxed.

Peace would suit Jason, you thought.

The two of you shuffled into the kitchen, talking in whispers, your hands never leaving each other. Jason walked close behind you, his large hands holding your hips close to his body.

Your boyfriend had a silly smile on his lips, the joy of being with you leaving him on cloud nine. He noticed how beautiful you looked in your sweat shorts and with his shirt, you smelled of comfort and love.

"So, our only commitment is to have coffee and kisses at the counter, right?" Jason hummed, a huge smile on his lips, the sun seemed brighter. Then clouds appeared in the glorious sky of the lazy Sunday.

The clouds came in the shapes of three known people invading your window, the largest of them smiling happily. You thought Jason was really sleepy and relaxed, because he didn't even raise a gun towards the intruders, which was customary.

"Good morning, couple." Dick Grayson greeted, closing the window when Damian entered last. You raised an eyebrow, while Jason gave a slight growl behind you. Your hands came up to lightly stroke his hair, urging him to stay calm, he relaxed into your touch, your lazy Sunday Jason returning.

"Okay, Todd, we got some information from that case we were working on." Damian said, being the rude little punk that he is, throwing work papers on their kitchen table. Tim Drake followed suit, leaning against their counter, where Jason planned to kiss you until you forgot your name.

"Boys," you called out to them, clearing your throat. Three pairs of eyes stared at you. "Today is Sunday."

You sighed when none of them reacted. Damn workaholic sons of Bruce Wayne. Your feet shuffled to the kitchen door to get breakfast, leaving Jason to take care of his brothers.

"Jason, we need those other documents you saved." Dick said, sitting down next to Damian. Jason let out a long sigh, he still felt numb from being in bed with you. He wouldn't let his brothers ruin his favorite day of the week.

"Can we fix this tomorrow?" The three brothers stared at Jason, their eyes equally wide. The fearsome red hood's posture was so relaxed, his pajama top slightly torn and loose. His hips leaned on the counter and his blue eyes seemed clearer, almost serene. His hair really looked like a mess, the white lock falling over his forehead in a cute sort of way.

"Jason, did you hear us? It's the case you've been working on for months." Tim said, still looking perplexed. Jason sighed, his features still marked by prolonged sleep.

"Yeah, yeah. So?" He grumbled, a smile appearing on his lips when you came back with the breakfast bag. Handing him a cup and pouring coffee. He whispered a quick, "Thank you, honey."

Damian was the first to recover from the shock, his hands holding a particularly suspicious photo that would solve half of Jason's case.

"Todd, big drug case! You spent months bugging everyone for clues."

Jason just shrugged, sipping his coffee and resting his face on your shoulder, humming with joy.

"One day more, one day less."You could have laughed at how Dick looked like he had been slapped in the face. Your heart was bursting with pride for your boyfriend, who had finally learned the meaning of being at peace and lazy.

"Who are you and what have you done with little wing?" Dick said, blinking those big blue eyes slowly.

You turned your back on the little argument again, not wanting to interfere in the family dynamics, busying yourself with taking your breakfast out of the bag from your favorite bakery.

"Take those papers off the table, let's have breakfast." Jason replied with just that, making Tim's eyes pop out. He looked like a different Jason, without his characteristic sarcastic smile or the tense shoulders.

"Todd, we need to figure this out!"

"Jason, it won't take long..."

Jason let out a louder sigh now, leaving the Wonder Woman mug in the corner and turning to his brothers, his tone of voice still soft compared to normal. "Today is Sunday." He repeated, pinching his nose slightly to keep his temper from rising. "I'm staying with my girlfriend. I'll figure this out with you guys tomorrow."

He turned to you, almost as if he expected to receive a proud smile, and he got one. Damian let out a snort.

"Todd, be a man for once in your life and stand up for yourself."

"He's too tangled up in the leash." Tim joined in the provocation, unable to contain himself.

"Wrong choice of words, boys," you whispered, knowing what was coming next.

The three of them were startled when Jason's hand slammed on the table they were at.

"I'm only going to say this once. It's Sunday morning. If you little shits are unhappy and girlfriendless, that's your problem. Either you're going to leave now with these papers or I'm going to use the gun I have hidden behind the fridge."

Jason's blue eyes were that darker shade that screamed: danger! It didn't take much more, the three guards took the papers and left muttering, you heard a few words that sounded like "this will come back, Todd" and "I'll tell him where he can stick that gun."

You turned to Jason, your hands going to his tense shoulders.

"Honey, it's okay, I'll accept if you want to help them."

He let out a snort, pulling you against his chest, smoothing the skin under your shirt.

"No. It's our lazy Sunday."You smiled, ridiculously content, pulling him into a lazy kiss.

"Speaking of which, gun behind the fridge?"

He distracted you with a kiss at the base of your neck, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Bastard.

It was a good lazy Sunday.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #dc comics #fluff #batfamily #fanfic

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sweetdispatch · 7 months ago

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I want to try it - M. Rempe

6 days of kinkmas pairing: Matt Rempe x girlfriend!reader summary: Matt's girlfriend have an unusual gift for him warning: NSFW, graphic sex (18+), deepthroat, hair pulling, cum play note: day 3 is here! can yo believe that we're already in the middle of kinkmas? haha

It was a tradition for both of you. You and Matt were making each other's advent calendar with small gifts. That was always simple things. You were buying Matt his favorite snacks and drinks or things that reminded you of him. Matt was buying you cosmetics, teddy bears and books. It was meaningful and led to a big gift on the 25th. The whole tradition started two years ago and you both loved it.

This year, you had a very specific idea for the gifts. Some of the days Matt got things but other, he got the chance to try sex positions that he always wanted. With his busy schedule, sex was always sloppy and quick but now, you wanted to spice things up with him. One of the things you never tried with him was oral sex. He ate you out plenty of times but you were scared of sucking him. He was aware of that and he never pushed you to do it.

It was the 8th of December. Matt came back from training and had a free day to spend with you. In your mind, you were ready to tell him about his gift but you knew that you had errands to run. Two of you went shopping and he took you out for dinner. You always loved the quality time you two had. When you finally get back home, Matt was the first one to give you a gift.

“Here love” He handed you a box wrapped in paper. You ripped it open and saw your favorite bottle of perfumes. You thanked him and kissed his lips.

“I have something for you but it’s not a thing” Matt furrowed his brows waiting for what you have to say. “I want to suck your dick” He choked on his spit when he heard your words.

“Honey, that’s not a gift. I mean, it shouldn’t be a gift. This should be something you want to try and not feel obligated to do” Matt tried to explain it to you. As much as he loved the idea, he didn’t want to pressure you.

“I want to try it. I feel ready and I trust you. To be honest, I wanted to do it for a really long time but never knew how to approach this conversation and I thought it might be a cool idea for a gift” You reassured him but he wasn’t so sure about it.

“I don’t know. You have problems to fit me when I fuck you” You blushed at his words. “I don’t want you to feel forced to do it just to pleasure me” He placed a hand on your cheek.

“You don’t force me. What I said about being scared was a long time ago. I’m ready to take the challenge” You looked him into his eyes. “Please”

“Okay but if you would feel overwhelmed, you will the tell me this” You nodded but he continued “Words, I need to be sure that you’re okay with this”

“Yes Matt, I’m sure and I’ll tell you if it will be too much” You tiptoed and kissed his cheek.

He didn’t say anything, only picked you up and took you to the bedroom. You giggled when he did it. You were always amazed how easy it was for him to pick you up like you weigh nothing. Matt sat you on the bed and went to grab a blanket. You looked confused but he was quick to explain this to you.

“I don’t want you to bruise your knees or feel pain so that’s why I grabbed the blanket” He placed it in front of you and you quickly kneel.

You started undoing his button and unzipping his pants. You took them off with his underwear and looked at his long dick. You were salivating at this view but also had fear in your eyes. Your head starts floating around thoughts if you’re gonna fit him in your mouth. Next thing you heard was Matt.

“We don’t have to do it if you’re scared. That’s okay”

“No, I’m fine. I was just… admiring” He laughed at your words.

You grabbed his dick and started running your hand on his length. Second hand you placed on his thigh to stabilize yourself. In seconds, Matt’s cock got hard in your hand and you kissed the tip and tasted his precum. He took a sharp breath and you started sucking his tip. You didn’t want to rush but Matt was the opposite.

“Honey please, don’t tease me” He growled.

You listened to him and took his dick into your mouth. As you expected, you couldn’t fit him fully so you placed your hand near the base. You started moving your head slowly to get the rhythm. Matt was in heaven. The feeling of your mouth on him was incredible. You heard him moan and in that moment you knew, you’re doing a good job. You started bobbing your head trying to take more and more of him with each move.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

You took him out and said yes. Matt placed his hand on your head and pushed you back. You gladly accepted it and took him back into your mouth. While you were moving your head around him, he still had his hand on you. He grabbed your hair and made them into a ponytail to push you further.

Matt started moving your head. At first, you tried to control the pace but you gave up. You let him face fuck you. He was rough and gentle at the same time. He was pushing your head with force but he also remembered to not push his dick too deep. Quickly, he found the perfect pace for both of you. You took your hand and started playing with his balls.

His moves became sloppy and you knew he’s close to cum. You tapped his thigh three times and Matt pulled out.

“Are you okay?” That was the first thing he asked you.

“I’m fine but I was thinking that maybe you would like to try to push your whole dick into my mouth” You said with blush. He looked shocked at you. Matt didn’t expect to hear those words.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure” You smiled at him.

You took him back into your mouth and Matt started pushing your head further. You were gagging around him. He wanted to stop hearing you gag but you didn’t let him. You wanted it and tried to fit his whole length. You were pushing your head and he helped you with that when he saw your motivation to do it. When your nose hit his stomach, you felt like you succeeded.

Matt's moves became rough with you, when he saw that you could take him. He didn’t have mercy on you and you enjoyed it. Tears were spilling from your eyes and you were gagging around him but he didn’t stop. You enjoyed it, maybe even too much. He felt that he’s gonna cum soon.

“Can I cum into your mouth?” Matt preferred to ask you this. You never sucked his dick and he didn’t know if he could do it in your mouth. You nodded your head as best as you could with his dick deep down your throat.

Couple thrusts later, Matt released it in your mouth with a loud moan. You tried to swallow it all but some drops fell down your beard. You stood up and saw him trying to catch a breath while putting back his clothes.

“How did I do?” You asked shyly.

“You…” Matt put a hand on your waist and pulled you closer. “You were incredible. Thank you for that but how do you feel?” He looked at you concerned.

“I’m great. My throat is a little bit sore but it was worth it”. You admitted.

Matt pulled you off and left the bedroom. You followed him and saw that he was pouring water into a glass for you.

“Here, drink it” He gave you the glass. You gladly accepted it and drank it.

“Thank you” You kissed his cheek.

“No, thank you” Matt pointed at you. “Now, it’s my time to give you all the pleasure”

“You don’t owe me anything”

“I know, but…” He came closer to you. “I bet you’re dripping and I want to taste you” Matt kissed you passionately.

#matt rempe #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe oneshot #matt rempe fanfiction #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #hartford wolfpack #new york rangers #v' work

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kingkat12 · 10 months ago

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affair (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), dub-con, Roman using his powers for bad shit, angst, cheating, toxic relationship, justice for Peter omg

summary: when your ex-boyfriend shows up at your door, how are you supposed to push him away?

word count: 5,136

"No, please!-- We need to talk!"

Roman forced a foot in my door to make sure I wouldn't close it on him. He was wet from the rain, his usually styled hair sticking to his forehead as he panted, desperately pleading for me to hear him out. "I made a huge mistake," he breathed, regret glossing over his green eyes. "Could you please just hear me out?"

This was definitely not the most ideal situation to be in-- my boyfriend, Peter, had just left my apartment to go home and get ready for his early shift, so I had gotten ready for bed. And I certainly wouldn't be dressed in my pyjamas and slippers had I known that my ex would show up at my door looking beyond frantic. My mind raced with uncertainty, filled with endless questions and doubt; what was he doing here? Was he drunk? Why was he doing this now, after two months of being broken up? "You-- You need to go," I didn't have the time or energy to deal with the mess Roman always dragged back into my life, especially now that I was finally happy with someone else.

Worst of all, I knew for a fact that Roman had someone else too. I knew he was seeing some woman with long, blonde hair whom I refused to stalk for my own good, so why on earth was he here? The question lingered in my mind, but I had to remind myself about the one thing I had the answer to at the moment; I needed to close the door on him now.

Upon hearing my words of rejection and feeling the door press up on his foot in an attempt to force him out, Roman wedged his arm between the door. "Let me explain," he pleaded, chest heaving. "I just ran seventeen blocks in the fucking rain to see you, could you at least spare me a minute?"

As if that was enough of a justification to show up out of the blue? "No one asked you to do that. I certainly did not," To say that I was pissed off was an understatement, but Roman's pleading eyes were making me sick with guilt. He looked like a lost puppy of sorts, and it was certainly not helping my restraint. The hand I had on my doorknob felt like it was starting to lose blood because of how hard I was holding on-- I couldn't let him in. I shouldn't let him in.

"I know," Roman eventually said, moving his wet hair out of his eyes. "I know you don't want to see me, but I just... I needed to see you."

"... I think you should go back to your girlfriend," I started to push at his shoe with my slipper, preparing to slam the door in his face. "You shouldn't be here."

It didn't take long for Roman to figure out what I was doing, and it became apparent that he wasn't going to go down without a fight. It didn't take much strength for him to grab the door, forcing it wide open, staring down at me with a damning look of desperation I hadn't seen in any man before. "Just a minute," he breathed. "Please let me say my piece. If I don't, I swear I'll die."

I didn't enjoy this one bit-- coming to my doorstep, threatening to die if I didn't comply? I had forgotten how manipulative he could be. Being with Peter had shown me that Roman's behavior in our relationship had been beyond toxic, and I could see it clearer than ever as he stood before me now. "You're not going to fucking die," I grumbled, feeling myself grow annoyed with how he was throwing himself back into my life, completely uninvited. "Roman, it's almost midnight, maybe this manic behaviour of yours will go away with a good night of sleep?"

Frustrated, Roman tapped his fingers against the door. "Now you're just making it hard, as always,"

"And you're being crazy, as always," I mumbled, shifting my weight from foot to foot, a sense of restlessness taking over my stance. "Could you please leave? We did this back-and-forth thing months ago, I'm not interested in doing it all over again."

In true Roman fashion, standing face to face with rejection, he didn't know what to say or do. I could recognize his patterns now that we weren't together, and it was so damn typical of him to attempt to distract me from what was making me mad; "I remember those," he said, nodding toward my slippers. "Good to see you've kept them."

I knew he was distracting me, so why did it work? Sighing, I shrugged; "They were expensive... Wasn't going to throw them away just because you picked them out,"

Letting go of the door, knowing he had tranquilized the danger of getting it slammed in his face, Roman leaned against the frame in a James Dean-esque fashion. He let out a dragged-out breath, eyes rounding out; "I've missed you,"

His words snapped me out of my daze, and I immediately pulled away from the door with a groan. "Ugh, Roman, you need to go!" I turned my back to him, walking further into my apartment, my instincts telling me to get as far away as possible. "I'm finally happy with Peter, and you have no right to show up at my door just because you're bored!--" My trail of words came to a halt as I suddenly heard my door close; I knew I was fucked in an instant. My heart trembled at the recognition of the sound of the lock turning, realizing I was in for a long night. Fuck. I turned around, holding my breath, watching as he took wary steps towards me.

"One minute," Roman said, voice low and unsteady. "That's all I ask."

"No!" I took a few steps back, not daring to get too close. "You can't be here! This is completely inappropriate, Roman, I have a boyfriend! And I know you have a girlfriend too, along with a huge fucking drinking problem!"

Roman sighed, a silent declaration of his frustration. "I'm not drunk," he said, gaze falling to the floor. "I just... I've come to realize that I can't live like this anymore. I want to be with you."

I clenched my fists tightly in a futile attempt to quell my agitation, but my hands continued to shake. "That's too bad," I said, a sinking feeling taking hold and clinging to me. "I'm not doing this with you again. I'm not getting up in the middle of the night to look for you, wondering whether you're either dead or drunk in some alley. Not when I have Peter."

Exhaustion drugged Roman's movements, every movement slow, every breath. It was clear that the mention of Peter was an unpleasant reminder that we were over; his shoulders slumped, the weight of guilt settling upon them. "I haven't had a drink since the day you left me," he said, his sincere eyes finding mine. "I want to be good for you... I want you. Every second of every day."

At this point, I had taken so many steps back that I had hit the wall. It was getting a little harder to breathe, and I ended up hyperventilating-- I couldn't do this. I could still feel Peter on my shirt. Everything about this was wrong. "You need to stop," I breathed, stepping away from the wall and wandering further into my living room as I grew restless. "Please stop. Don't do this to me."

To my dismay, Roman only followed; "I'll leave her," he pleaded. "I'll leave her if you tell me to, I'll do whatever you want! I should've fought for us, I should've done so many things that I didn't do... It keeps me up at night that I let you go. I can't sleep, I can't function, I need you to know how this pains me!"

"No, I don't need to know that!" My steps came to a halt, and I pivoted on the heel of my slipper to face him. "You put me through hell, and now think you can just show up like this! Don't you think I have enough emotional baggage from you? You think I don't have enough or something, so you come here to unload some more? What the fuck am I to you, a loading dock?!"

Roman let out a harsh sigh; "Is that a serious question?" he asked, brows weaving together in frustration. "You are everything. I see that now!"

I was already exhausted from the day I had just had, and I barely had any energy left to fight with Roman. This was what we did-- we fought, we fucked, then we made up. However, this time was completely different, and it was throwing me off my course; we couldn't fuck and make up this time. But it was clear that he hadn't shown up to fight, so what on earth was this?

"Well, it's too damn late!" I groaned loudly, hiding my face in the palm of my hands. This was way too overwhelming. When the love of your life shows up at your door telling you everything you've ever wanted to hear, you want to rejoice-- not cry? My eyes burned with the tears that begged to be set free, distorting my vision as I lifted my face from my hands, unveiling that I was swimming in tears. "Do you not see what you do to me?" I breathed, sniffling. "Did you come here to drive me to tears? Do you have no remorse, Roman?"

Roman's lips parted, the worried look on his face revealing everything, his concern written all over. In the quiet moments that followed, the only sound was the echoing resonance of regret filling the space between us with its haunting presence. Our unsaid words were scattered in the air, and it felt like I was suffocating from every apology he could muster up.

"Let me be happy," I begged, swallowing hard. "Leave now and let me forget. I'm happy with Peter... Please."

It was clear that Roman was debating whether or not to comply. His conscience was gnawing at him-- I knew him well enough to be able to spot the signs. I hated how familiar he was, how it felt like we hadn't been apart at all, like it was yesterday that he had made me feel things I never knew I could feel. The feeling of pure bliss had been like a drug that Roman constantly pumped into me, making me a complete and utter junkie. It had resulted in me falling for him despite how beyond bad he was for me.

I remembered it all too well. The binge drinking that would go on for days, which often had him disappearing off of the face of the earth. His wandering green eyes used to leave me with such crippling anxiety, I would spend hours crying with a lingering feeling of nausea in my throat. He used to make me so, so sick in every possible way, and my body remembered it better than I did.

However, I could also sense that something had changed. Here he was; standing in my living room, drenched in rain, clinging onto his last slivers of hope, and I knew I was in for a good run of Roman-mania.

Of course he would come back to claim what he thought was his. Of course he'd be arrogant enough to believe it would be okay, that I would take him back, and that it would be completely alright for him to come towards me with rushed steps, kissing me with desperation that I had never felt from him before.

Our bodies were pressed together heatedly, Roman's hands on my waist keeping me in place. I could taste our shared nervous breaths, feel the thud of my heart against his, and it was all too much-- I pushed him off of me, tears pooling in my eyes as they streaked down my cheeks. "No!" I cried, my words getting choked. I couldn't believe what he had just done; my heart was actively breaking at the thought of Peter, the loveliest boyfriend I had ever had. I couldn't do this to him. "Roman, you can't just!--"

I hated the warmth that spread in my chest as Roman pulled me back in, sparks igniting in the pool of my stomach as his impossibly perfect lips moved against mine once more. I balled my fist, landing a firm hit against his chest, fighting the ecstasy that always followed any kiss from Roman. But his grip around me was impossibly tight, not letting me budge. You'd think he'd been starved for months with the way he was kissing me with hunger unmatched any other moment I'd ever shared with him, completely taking my breath away. Like this, I could almost believe that I had been on his mind in every waking moment, ravaging through his veins like a burning ache-- I couldn't lie and say that he hadn't been on my mind either.

No one could match Roman; not even my sweet, sweet Peter. I hated it with every fiber of my being.

The only thing I hated more, was that I never wanted him to stop.

"No," I cried against his lips, my fingers gripping his wet shirt, bunching it up, unsure whether to pull him closer or push him away once more. Was it maybe that he sensed how much I wanted this too that made him allow himself to continue?

Lightning struck in the distance, illuminating my apartment with a flash as my tears rolled down, mixing in with our kiss. No matter how wrong I knew this was, it felt like my soul was slowly leaving my body and giving itself to him once more; I knew I was dealing with a force outside of anything I could ever control. The love I had for Roman was all-consuming, crushing, devastating-- I could barely bring myself to fight him. "Stop," I breathed in between kisses. "Don't, Roman--"

My breath hitched as I realized my back was now pressed against the wall, and Roman pulled away barely an inch; I could feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, his fingers now moving through my hair as we breathed each other in. "Leave him," he whispered against my lips. "Let's try again."

My heart had become like melted wax in my chest, making it painful to breathe. "We'll crash and burn all over again," I breathed, feeling the salty traces of my tears on my lips. "We'll kill each other, you know this."

"Let me die by your hand, then," Roman connected our foreheads, closing his eyes. Like this, I could almost believe him, I really could-- he had actually missed me, hadn't he? "A death by you would be a death worth dying."

I felt my lower lip quiver in a sob; I wanted him more than anything in the world, and I had an inkling that he knew it better than I did. I couldn't allow myself to feel all the feelings I had bottled up in our time apart, knowing it would break me and lead me right back into his arms.

But Roman was insistent-- "I love you," He whispered it as though it was a secret he had been keeping for a thousand years. I could barely accept that this was real; the words I had wanted from him our whole relationship were being spilled out like a consolation for my pain.

I knew there was no reason for me to fight anymore; Roman knew me too well. He knew that this was all I had ever dreamed to hear, and he knew exactly how to use it against me. Unsure whether he was telling the truth or not, the emotions I had let fester deep within came rushing through the floodgates, making it impossible to do anything but feel; the love I had for him, the feelings that had never left me, the burning sensation of need and hope coursing through my veins.

So, I didn't fight him when he kissed me once more. I didn't fight the arm he snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I didn't fight the rush I got from finally being reunited with him in this way; I had wanted his back mouth against mine since the second we were over.

My conscience gnawed at me as Roman pressed himself up against me, but my guilt didn't hinder me from letting my fingers run through his wet hair, giving in to the engulfing infatuation I had with him. As his hungry kisses moved down my jawline and to my neck, I dared to inhale a shaky breath; I was getting dizzy from the rush of feeling him close to me like this, grabbing my waist, running his hands up my body as though he had no self-control at all.

The inner corners of my brows turned up, giving in to the crushing feeling of relief and sadness, closing my eyes as I held him tightly against me. There was so much I wanted to say, to do, but I couldn't bring myself to push him away-- not when it felt this good. Not when his hands dipped beneath my shirt, grazing at my bare skin, drinking me in as though I was water. It didn't take long for Roman to get my shirt off of me, and I could taste our shared breath along with the thud of our combined heartbeat as it got tossed to the floor.

Roman's fingers pressed themselves into my skin, getting reacquainted after our time apart. I hadn't realized that I was tracing my hands up and down his arms, mindlessly relishing in the familiarity; I had missed him dearly, and I couldn't bring myself to lie about it any longer. My hands went back up into his hair as he kissed down my chest, my breaths getting short and choppy as I allowed myself to bask in the feeling of his lips against my body.

"We shouldn't," I tried, the memory of my boyfriend lingering in the back of my mind.

Roman hummed against my skin, now kneeling before me. He grasped at my hips as he pressed a wet kiss against my lower abdomen, making my breath hitch. "Push me away, then," he murmured, his wet tongue tracing where he had just kissed me; it was impossible not to shiver.

He knew he had control. He knew, that bastard knew so well-- I couldn't push him away. I was never able to do it before, so how was I supposed to do it now? I felt my tears dry up, the familiar ache between my legs pooling, threatening to run over. As if by instinct, my hips rose from the walls, begging for him to finally do something.

Roman's grip on my hips tightened, pushing me back in place. Something about the growing smirk on his face had me questioning everything; what was I doing? Was this just a ploy for him to get laid? A big, dark part of me didn't care at this point. The fingers I had in his hair loosened as he hooked his fingers in my pyjama pants, dragging them down with a satisfied look on his face. Roman wasted no time, humming as he leaned forward to press a keening kiss against my dampening underwear.

My breath hitched, my back arching off the wall in a knee-jerk reaction-- I had missed this more than I should've. There was no passion like this with Peter, although he was sweet and considerate. But Roman was so all-taking, so consuming, I couldn't do anything other than let him do whatever he wanted to do to me. He pulled my underwear to the side, laving his tongue against me as I whimpered, tasting me. Roman's big hands grabbed my leg, forcing it over his shoulder, pushing himself closer to my sex with an aching need.

"Roman," I tried, my guilt mixing in with the pleasure. "Don't--" All other words suddenly fled my mind as his lips sealed around my clit, sucking at me in a way that had me crying out in shock, my vision nearly turning black.

Just as I thought I would faint from the flood of emotions, Roman came back up after taking his time, breath heavy against my lips. "Still want me to go?"

My eyes glossed over, meeting his. Thunder and lightning struck outside again, lighting up my living room, and allowing me to see the traces of my slick around his mouth. Something about it was just too scandalous-- I couldn't believe any of this was happening. But we'd gone too far to go back now; "No," I breathed, slinging my arms around his neck, pulling him into a heated kiss.

As I tasted myself on his lips, Roman picked me up, and my legs automatically wrapped around him as they always had. He didn't need to watch where he was going as he knew my apartment almost as well as I did, walking away from the wall and laying me down on the couch with ease.

It was hard to focus on the true nature of what was going on when it felt so damn good. Everything happened in a blur; I couldn't recall how or when Roman had lost his shirt, when my underwear got pulled off and discarded, or how I had allowed this to happen. Roman's cock pressed into me slowly, still trying to be sincere despite the complexion of our encounter. With every thrust, my chest arched up against his, back curving as I whimpered at the stretch.

My hands rested on Roman's neck as he kissed me once more, stealing my breath with every roll of his hips. The part of me that was outraged with the both of us withered away as I continued to moan beneath him, coming out in broken cries. I couldn't focus on the infidelity I was committing when he was inside of me like this, his hands wrapped around me, moving me against him.

"Fuck, I've missed this," Roman breathed against my neck, letting out a laboured sigh of satisfaction. "All of you... All of this..."

Everything about this was dizzying; maybe this was my mind playing tricks on me, maybe this was all some dirty dream? But I could feel myself clinging to him, wet and dripping-- there was no way this wasn't real. "Rome," I cried, the old nickname slipping past my lips.

I could feel him give in to a shiver, ears perking up. "That's sweet," Roman kissed my cheek, driving his cock further into me as I whimpered, no longer used to his length like before. Even as he whispered my name, needing me, I briefly thought of how less intimidating he was at this moment-- this was the part of Roman that would show up in my dreams, caress my cheeks as I cried, and fall asleep on top of my chest after a long day, clinging to me. I had spent so much time resenting him, that it was weird to see him so... human. Desperate.

I let out a short gasp as I suddenly realized I was almost folded in half, my legs creasing at his arms. One thing hadn't changed; Roman would always take his liberties with me, no matter the circumstances. It somehow bothered me that I was being fucked with the same amount of love as before; did he have no guilt? No thoughts of his girlfriend at home?

Fuck-- Peter!

As I remembered my boyfriend, I felt my anxiety rise. My hand shot up to Roman's chest, lips parted, ready to protest and push him away-- but as I met his eyes, the green of his irises practically engulfed my being, and not a sound would come out of my mouth. "Shh, it's okay," Roman said, voice calm, reading my panic. "It's just me... It's okay."

Something about his voice was so calming, soothing, that a certain sense of relief washed over me-- I could recall several similar instances. This had happened before; it was almost as though a greater power controlled me every time I looked into his eyes for too long.

The hand I had on his chest went up into his hair, pulling him forward to capture his lips in a kiss. I was caught off guard as Roman pulled out only till the tip of him remained, letting out a soft gasp against him as he pushed back into me to the hilt. I felt him hum against the kiss, sighing in satisfaction. "There you go," he said, words softer than ever. "Just relax, enjoy... Let me take care of you, just like I used to."

Despite how hard my guilt was eating at me, I still felt ridiculously calm, unable to do anything else than comply. I could only moan, shivering with pleasure at the feeling of being driven forward against the couch with every thrust.

I wrapped my arms around Roman, kissing his broad shoulders, giving in to the pleasure. I had missed this, I had missed him... All my feelings started to ball up, crying out against his shoulder at the realization of what was about to happen. "Rome, I- I can't--"

"Gonna?" His question came out along with a grunt and another snap of his hips, repeatedly pushing himself into me.

I couldn't hold it-- I really, really couldn't. Something about the nature of our get-together mixed in with my climax, and I let my head fall back down against the couch as I cried out. It was so hard, so intense, that I had forgotten to breathe; I hadn't had an orgasm like that since the day we broke up.

I knew I was screwed. I knew it.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

As everything started to dawn on me, my breathing got heavier-- what had we done? I pulled myself closer to Roman on the bed, completely spent, seeking comfort from the person who had dragged me into this mess in the first place.

Eventually, Roman broke the silence; "We should do porn," he mumbled, taking another drag of his cigarette.

What? I looked up to glare at him; "Fuck you,"

"You just did," Roman smirked, glancing back at me with a rather proud expression on his face. "But I'm serious. We're damn hot."

I groaned; this was not what I needed to hear right now-- not after we had just finished round three. Roman reached out for me with his free hand, pulling me even closer, lazily running his fingers through my hair. I embraced him as I sniffled, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I was so tired, feeling my sore legs ache as I realized that up close, Roman's hair smelled like cigarettes as well. He might've quit drinking, but quitting cigarettes was a no-go in his book.

"We're horrible people," I mumbled, my words muffled up against his skin, taking in his presence. There were many times I had dreamed about us being reunited, but never that it would end up with me cheating on Peter.

Roman shrugged, turning to press a kiss against my temple. "I told you, I'm leaving her. We're fine,"

Nothing about this felt fine. I propped myself up on my elbow, watching him as he laid comfortably in my bed, almost done with his cigarette. Even after convincing me to commit such a heinous act against my boyfriend, he looked like an angel. Fucking Lucifer. "... Don't do it. Don't leave her."

"What?" Confused, Roman's green eyes rounded out. "Why not?"

I sighed, shaking my head. The decision I had made for myself was hard to air out, and I knew that protests would ensue; "I'm not leaving Peter,"

But despite my predictions, Roman got quiet. His wide, empty eyes stared right back at me, lips parted as though he was ready to speak. "... You're kidding me?" he finally said, the hurt in his face mixing in with a smidge of anger. "After this, you're going to stay with him?"

"He's good for me!" I tried, sitting up properly. "Roman, please, just-- I don't know what came over me, but this was a mistake... We're not good for each other, you know this!--"

"You're kidding me?" Roman repeated, clearly in a state of shock.

This whole ordeal was making me feel like the second worst person in the world, with the first place going to Roman. I buried my face in my hands, realizing that I was trembling. "Please don't make this harder than it already is," I pleaded, inhaling a shaky breath. "You had no right to show up here... I was fine just the way I was, and I'm going to go back to that."

I heard Roman shift, sitting up as well. His long, slender fingers wrapped around my wrists, prying my hands away from my face. His green eyes burned into me, the fire intent on destroying whatever it could catch, and I knew I had to look away before it was too late. "I'm leaving her," he said, intertwining his fingers with mine. "I love you. I'm leaving her."

It took a lot of willpower to shake my head, rejecting his words. "Don't,"

"I will,"

"No, Roman, I don't want you to!--"

My words came to a halt as Roman leaned forward, capturing my lips in a rushed, desperate kiss. I did my best not to cry again, having previously burst into tears in the middle of round two-- I couldn't do this. This wasn't good for me. Peter was good for me.

I felt Roman's hands leave mine, and before I knew it, his fingers twisted into the hair at the nape of my neck, forcing me to look at him. His eyes searched mine, looking to find some shred of doubt to hang onto. "Do you love him?" I barely had time to open my mouth to speak before he cut me off; "You wouldn't have done this if you did."

My tears came back, pressing up on my eyes with a burning fire, begging to be set free. "Please, just... Please just go,"

Roman let out a sigh, leaning forward to press his lips against my forehead. "Call me when you change your mind,"

"I won't,"

"You will," Roman's hand slid out of my hair, caressing my cheek with his thumb, his green eyes finding mine once more. And just as I was about to look away, I felt that familiar calm wash over me as the colour green took over my vision, the numbing of my thoughts ensuing; there was no way I could fight it. I didn't stand a chance.

Roman's lips quirked into a shameless smirk; "You will,"

a/n: (should I do a pt.2? hihi)

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #hemlock grove #x reader #bill skarsgård #fanfic #oneshot #smut #bill skarsgard #fanfiction #peter rumancek #the crow 2024 #angst #toxic relationship #purr the way he is gripping her hair in that gif is making me kick my legs

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soapybutt17 · 1 year ago

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The Next of Kin

Summary: Simon needed to update his contact information, as dodgy as he was for giving everyone even a glimpse of his private life, he did so. Who would have ever thought that it would become handy after an injury left him high on painkillers and needy for his girls back home. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wife!Reader. OC Daughter (Cassandra "Cassie" Riley). John Price. Word Count: 1,615 Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Injuries. Drug Consumption. Slight Angst. Mostly fluff.

Masterlist || Request are Open

It was the annual checkup in the base, something that Simon had dreaded the most knowing what it entails. Not only was his current and past injuries being monitored but he was all too certain about the wacky doctor would also make an appearance to check on his mental state. It wasn’t a fun time as any of his other team mates point it out to be.

“Should we update your emergency contact, Lieutenant Riley?” The nurse had inquired dealing with his medical records.

A part of him wanted to say no, but remembering what was waiting for him home, he could not allow himself to break his wife’s heart as well as his own daughter if the time ever comes that he dies in the middle of battle. He would want to ensure if ever that was to happen, you would know and hope that you would move on.

“Yes,” He agreed accepting the clipboard and pen handed to him.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he wrote your name and your number under his emergency contacts.

His handwriting was decent and readable at best, chicken scratch at worst as Johnny had eloquently pointed out during reports. But there was this special care with the way he wrote your first name and his last name that you were more than happy to take as soon as you married all those years ago. Your number was ingrained to his brain as he wrote it, having forced himself to memorize in the event he didn’t have his personal phone with him and simply a burner phone for missions.

What truly took him a second to write was the blank space dedicated to his relationship with you. No one knew he was in a relationship, nor did anyone know about his marriage. It took him a full two minutes before he found himself slowly opening the flood gates of his personal life that he had tried his best to hide from the world.

“Never knew you were married, Lieutenant.”

“Never planned on letting anyone know about it.” He spoke honestly, the cold demeanor and tone enough to stop the conversation from going further about his personal life.

Little did Simon know that the upcoming mission would lead to him having to make use of the emergency contact.

When you had begun your relationship with one Simon Riley, you had always accepted that he would always be gone for uncertain amounts of months in a year, you had accepted that part of him. How mission would always mean the world was a little safer from the dangers of man. You accepted all the big and small flaws that came with Simon and even in your eventual marriage and the birth of your daughter, you had come to accept the danger that would come in missions that would place him badly bruised or beaten beyond repair. You would always be there to tend to each and every single wounds and be the shoulder for him to cry on when he was good and ready.

But nothing could have ever prepared you for another unknown call coming from your phone. You’ve always expected it to be your husband, checking up on you before the mission begins like he always does. But the voice of an unknown man was the last thing you would have expected.

He called himself John Price and you know the man from your husband’s few conversations when he talks about the people he works with. You had feared for the worst as soon as he had explained that your husband has just gotten out of surgery after a mission. A few broken bones and a superficial gunshot wound. But it was enough to worry you as Simon himself has been asking for you as soon as he was out of surgery and in lucid consciousness.

On most days you were calm and collected, but it was the panic of seeing the worse of your husband that had you carrying your two year old and a baby bag towards your car with a mission. The Captain had asked if you could possibly have someone come get him but you know no one else better to check up on him but yourself and your daughter that was all the more excited about being in the car.

The travel was rather long and rather tedious knowing you and your husband had agreed to live away from the city and away from any dangers that may come to you and the baby while he was gone. You had appreciated the distance, the peaceful tranquility that came with being away from the bustle and noise of the city but not this time. It had meant a longer journey and a more hectic one since the base was all the way across the other side.

Once you had arrived to the base, all eyes were on you. Many eyes had lingered on you when they heard your last name. You know for a fact that your husband’s name and reputation beholds him, but you never knew nor did you ever try to question to what extent. It unnerved you more was how avoidant everyone had been of you aside from one of the soldiers tasked with bringing you and your daughter to your husband.

Outside the infirmary room was a rugged man. The man exudes an air or control and intensity and rugged strength, but not as much as your husband did. His posture was upright, suggesting discipline and years of military training. Dressed in an all too familiar tactical gear, he gives off a no-nonsense vibe that immediately commands attention.

“Ma’am, my name is John Price.” The man introduced the moment he caught sight of you.

You spoke your name and your daughter that was surprisingly all too mum in the whole situation, you were surprised that she wasn’t crying at being in an unfamiliar environment like she usually was.

“It is best to assume that you two are Simon’s wife and daughter, I presume?” He inquired.

You took a moment to think if it was alright to agree with his statement. Knowing your husband and the array of precaution he had come to give you, you were uncertain if you could trust the man with such a fact.

“Yes.” You spoke, dealing with the consequence later as there was something more important that needed your attention. “How’s he doing?” You inquired wanting to change the subject now.

“Stable. A little loopy from the drugs, but he’ll make a fast recovery.”

You nodded, hesitation of asking if you would be allowed to see him now in his state.

“He was looking for you.” He opened the door for you and you were welcomed with your husband in bed with his mask still on.

“Dada!” Your daughter squealed upon the sight of your husband groggy still.

You watched as his head turned to look at you and your daughter.

“Love…” He grunted wincing at the pain that you were certain that was coming in full force now.

“I’m here, Baby.” You whispered approaching him, cupping his cheeks gently. “Me and Cassie are here.” You assured trying your best to hide the tears that were fighting to fall at the sight of him.

When Simon Riley had opened his eyes, the first thing that he had come to notice was the pain that surrounded his entire body. The next thing that he noticed was the warmth that wrapped around his calloused hand.

Turning his head he saw the most beautiful sight that he had the fortune of seeing in his life. His wife and daughter. The more pressing matter was the fact that you were asleep in an all too familiar uncomfortable plastic chair with one hand on him, and your other arm held onto your baby sleeping on your chest.

“Baby…” He grunted harsher than he intended.

Slowly blinking away, your eyes immediately turned down towards your daughter before your eyes met his own.

“How are you holding up?” You inquired immediately, trying your best not to wake your sleeping daughter still cradled snuggly on your chest.

“Like a bitch.” He muttered appreciating being able to swear with his daughter still asleep. “But I’ll live.”

“I’m glad.” You sighed, rubbing his hand tenderly. “I was so worried about you when your boss called me. I thought something worse has happened.” You whispered.

“I didn’t really want to worry you—or have you see me like this.” He muttered.

“I know.” You nodded gently letting go of his hand to cup his cheeks that still was covered with his mask. “But I’m still as glad to be here right now knowing you’re alright. Me and Cassie get to see you’re alright.”

At the mention of your daughter, Simon noticed his daughter begin to get fussy from your chest. Gently pushing himself up until he sat on his bed much to your protest, he took your now crying daughter into his arms, gently laying her onto his chest and how quick she was sated in his warmth.

“Daddy’s here, Angel. I’m here.” He began to whisper, pulling off his balaclava to kiss his daughter onto top of her head. “I’m not going soon for a while. I promise.”

He has yet to tell you about the doctor’s insistence that he takes a few months off. It would be something he would tell when you get home. Once he finishes up with the paper works, he’ll let you know of the good news. For now, all that’s important was he had you and his daughter here with him, even in his most vulnerable state.

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley fanfic #fem reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x female reader #cod fic #mw2 fic #mw2 x you #mw2 x reader #ghost riley #simon riley fluff

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etheraltides · 8 months ago

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CHANGES 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pregnant!Reader

Summarize: all the changes in your body finally takes a toll on you as you’re getting ready for a special night.

Warning(s): body insecurities, pregnancy.

A/N: Are the small letters annoying? I’m not sure if I should keep my works with them or use the regular ones - let me know, please.

You stood in front of the mirror, hands trembling as you adjusted the fabric of your dress. It clung tightly around your belly, and every curve, every change in your body that had come with pregnancy, felt amplified under the soft light of the closet. You tried to see yourself as Rafe saw you, to embrace the way your body had changed, but it was like staring at a stranger. What happened to me?

Your mind raced with painful thoughts, each one heavier than the last. I don’t look like myself. I don’t even feel like myself.

The doubts came in waves, and with each one, your breath grew shakier. He’s going to look at me tonight and see how much I’ve changed. Maybe he’s already noticed. Maybe he’s already started wishing… What if he decides to go to someone prettier, thinner? Could I blame him?

A tear slipped down your cheek, unbidden and salty, stinging against your skin. And that’s when the door opened. Rafe entered, his footsteps soft and careful, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw you, his face instantly softening.

He was getting used to your pregnancy mood swings by now but he hadn’t seen you crying often - it was usually you being clingy or acting like a momzilla.

“Hey, sweetheart…” His voice was gentle, and he took a slow step forward, his eyes scanning your face with concern. “What’s going on?”

You tried to force a smile, to play it off, but the effort only made your throat tighten. You looked down, shaking your head as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “I… I don’t know, Rafe. I just…” You swallowed hard, barely managing to get the words out. “I don’t feel like myself anymore. I feel… ugly.”

The word lingered in the air, raw and unguarded. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and even saying it aloud made it feel more real. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze, afraid of what you might see there.

Tonight would be the reopening party of the restaurant Rafe recently bought, a new milestone in his business career. Both of you were very excited for tonight and you couldn’t stop the guilty for not being able to control your own tears and mind just minutes prior of the event.

Rafe didn’t say anything for a moment, and when he reached out to take your hand, his touch was so tender that it made your heart ache. He guided you gently to sit on the edge of the bed, kneeling down in front of you so he could look up into your eyes.

“Look at me, love,” he whispered, his thumb brushing softly over the back of your hand. “Please, just look at me.”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, and the warmth there was almost overwhelming. His eyes held a mix of love and sadness, but no hint of the judgment or disappointment you’d feared.

“I don’t think I could ever explain how beautiful you are to me.” He said, voice steady and full of conviction. “And I don’t mean just tonight, or just because of the way you look. I mean you. The woman I love, who’s carrying our baby. There’s no part of you that isn’t beautiful to me.”

Your lip trembled, and you felt another tear slip down your cheek. “But I don’t… I don’t feel like myself anymore, Rafe. My body’s changing, and I look in the mirror, and I just… I can’t see the woman I used to be. I don’t know how to feel beautiful when I barely feel like me. I look… disgusting.”

Rafe’s hand came up to cradle your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tear as he held you close, like he was afraid you’d break if he let go. “I know this has been hard on you” He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “And I know I can’t truly understand what you’re going through. But I need you to know… I don’t want the woman you used to be. I want you, right here, right now, just as you are.”

He took your hand and brought it to his chest, pressing it over his heart so you could feel the steady, reassuring beat. “Every single part of this journey, every change, every moment… it just makes me love you more. Because you’re the woman I chose. And you’re the woman I’ll always choose, no matter what.”

The weight of his words began to melt away the cold edges of doubt, warming you from the inside out. But the insecurities still lingered, clinging stubbornly. “But what if I… stay like this? What if I don’t look the way I used to? What if… you stop seeing me this way?”

Rafe’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face. “Love… that’s not even possible. You have to understand, I’m not just in love with what I see on the outside. I’m in love with you. With the person you are. The woman who’s so strong, who loves so deeply, who’s going to be the most amazing mother.” His voice softened, his thumb brushing soothingly over your cheek. “That’s who I fell in love with. That’s who I see, every time I look at you. The woman who’s always been by my side through thick and thin.”

The tears kept coming, but this time, they didn’t feel quite so heavy. You let yourself lean into his touch, let yourself feel the warmth of his hand against your skin, grounding you in the moment.

“I just… I’m scared, Rafe.” You whispered. “I’m scared that I’ll never feel like myself again, that I’ll never be the same. That’ll be a bad mother.”

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger as he held you close. “Then let me be there with you.” He murmured. “Let me remind you, every single day, how beautiful you are to me. Because if I have anything to say about it, you’re never going to forget it. Not for one second.”

His words wrapped around you, sinking into the broken pieces and holding them together, stronger than before. And as he held you, his arms a safe haven against the storm of your thoughts, you felt, for the first time in a long time, a quiet, steady peace.

Rafe held you in silence, his hand holding your head against his chest as he allowed you to take a moment. It ached his heart to hear the things you said, the look in your eyes.

“I will need a few minutes to retouch my makeup.” You took a deep breath slightly pulling away from him, your manicured fingers quickly wiping away the tears on his jacket as you mumbled an apologize that he dismissed instantly.

“Take your time, sweetheart.” He winked, his eyes looking at you with an intensity and warmth that made your cheeks burn - as if he was looking at the most precious thing in the world.

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x you

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vroomvro0mferrari · 8 months ago

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LN4 | Vexing Vacation – Part 6

Summary: When you agreed to join your brother on his vacation, sharing a room with his best friend wasn’t part of the plan. Now, that you’re constantly stuck with Lando and his relentless teasing, you’re not sure whether you want to strangle him or kiss him.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader, one-bed trope, a lot of banter and a hint of forced proximity :)

WC: 3.0K

Warnings: mentions of sex/sexual insinuations, cursing, alcohol consumption, making out (finally!)

Part 1 | Part 5 | Masterlist | Part 7

Y/N went about her day pretending nothing had happened. She continued to read her book, which Lando had been so kind as to leave open on the same page as when he took it from her (she felt even more guilty after she realised that), and talked with Pietra every now and then.

Lando barely spoke to Y/N after their fight, only engaging when it was necessary to keep up appearances in front of Max and Pietra. Maybe he had overreacted, but he had just been hit by the harsh truth that Y/N would never be his. He had never been this close to winning her over, and now she was shutting him out. It made him realise that it would never happen, no matter how much effort he put into his relationship with Y/N. He just needed some time to process the rejection, preferably without much interference from the woman herself.

When they got back to the hotel after dinner, Lando followed Max to his room without hesitation, not wanting to be alone with Y/N. Pietra quickly grabbed her stuff and joined the other girl to get ready for a night out. Lando could use a drink, and maybe a distraction, too.

Y/N was lost in her thoughts when Pietra entered the room, absentmindedly applying her makeup.

“So, what happened between you and Lando?” Pietra asked the moment she sat down.

Y/N froze at the sudden sound breaking silence. “What do you mean?” She asked, attempting to sound nonchalant.

“Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb. You told me yourself, he was all over you last night and this morning, and you’re barely speaking now. What happened at the beach?”

Y/N bit her lip. “It’s my fault. I ignored him and now he’s upset. I realised this morning that I like Lando, and now I don’t know how to act around him anymore. Regardless of what you’ve been telling me, I don’t believe he feels the same. I’m just trying to protect myself before I get hurt, I thought keeping my distance would help.”

Pietra smiled sympathetically. “He likes you, Y/N. I’m one hundred per cent sure of it. He’s just confused. Last night, you asked him to cuddle, and now you’re ignoring him. He’s probably just as lost as you are – doing the same thing; shutting you out so he doesn’t get hurt any more.”

Y/N thought about it for a second, Pietra was making sense, but she wasn’t convinced. “Even if he does like me, all my relationships end badly. I can’t risk ruining things with Lando; it would ruin his friendship with Max and even if it doesn’t, I wouldn’t be able to face him when he comes over. Besides, what if he changes his mind, just like he did today? I can’t let myself be vulnerable with him only for him to leave when he doesn’t want me anymore.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that. Lando’s been around for more than a decade, yes? He already liked you before I met him, I’m quite sure of it. He’s not going anywhere, he’s not going to change his mind, and he’s not one to give up easily. And if he were, isn’t it worth the risk? You’re never going to be sure—in any relationship,” Pietra explains gently.

She was right, Y/N realised. Maybe she should just admit it and get it over with, like ripping off a band-aid. If Pietra was convinced he had liked her for such a long time, it must be true right? Pietra wouldn’t lie to her about such a thing, not on purpose. She sighed. “I need a drink.”

“Maybe it’ll help you admit how you feel,” Pietra said, winking. She pulled Y/N into an encouraging hug, before ushering her out the door.

A cab ride later, the group arrived at the club. The music was loud, the lights dim, and the room crowded. Y/N headed to the bar straight away, immediately ordering a drink. She would need some liquid courage to confront Lando tonight, but he had already done a shot and disappeared before she could get her hands on the cocktail.

It didn’t take her long to spot Lando in the herd of people. He was dancing with a girl she’d never seen before. She seemed to enjoy the attention he was giving her, and Y/N wished she had done the same when she was on the receiving end. She watched as Max and Pietra disappeared into the crowd, a worried look on Pietra’s face when she looked at Y/N over her shoulder. But Y/N didn’t pay her any mind; her eyes were focused on Lando, and the pretty girl he was dancing with.

She had already ordered a second drink before she had even finished the first one. She felt stupid. Lando had never liked, that much was clear, or he had gotten over her really quickly. She felt like an idiot for believing Pietra for that short moment, for wanting to talk to him and admit her feelings for him when he clearly didn’t care for her in the same way.

So, when a guy came up to her at the bar, she let him buy her a drink. If things weren’t going to work out with Lando, why shouldn’t she try with someone else? Her goal for the vacation hadn’t changed, after all. She eagerly followed Luca – or was it Luke? – to the dance floor, ready to forget about her troubles. She looked at Lando one last time before she was pulled into the crowd.

Lando had been looking over every so often, just to make sure she was alright – or that’s what he told himself. Irritation flared up inside him when he saw her accept a drink from a man he had never seen before, again. He felt annoyed at the realisation that she clearly didn’t care to listen to him or her brother, especially when he saw her following the stranger to the dance floor. His jaw clenched in aggravation as they made eye contact – she was doing it on purpose, he was sure of it. She was taking to the floor with yet another stranger to spite him, and it was working.

He shouldn’t care about it, but he couldn’t deny his jealousy. Y/N made it clear she wasn’t interested earlier today, but still she watched him – dared him to come and do something about it, or maybe he imagined it. It shouldn’t matter, she was Max’s problem, not his. Yet, he couldn’t resist looking over every now and then. Even as a pretty blonde was putting up a show right in front of him, he was focused on the way the stranger’s hands moved over Y/N’s body, how they rested on her hips to pull her ass tightly against him, and how he kissed his way down her neck. Lando clenched his hands, needing to release some of the tension, and swallowed thickly – that was supposed to be him.

He stared at Y/N, completely ignoring the blonde he was dancing with, watching as the man’s wandering hands moved further down her body before trailing up her thighs and disappearing under the hem of her dress. He was done; he would not stand by and watch how the girl he loved was being touched by another man. He pushed the blonde away rougher than he intended. Muttering an apology, he forced his way through the crowd.

His eyes were still set on Y/N, and the man’s hand that kept moving higher and higher, as if taunting him. His jaw tightened at the crude sight, only encouraging him to move faster. When he was finally close enough he forcefully pulled Y/N’s arm, yanking her from the stranger’s grip.

She opened her eyes, startled at the sudden contact. “Lando,” she mumbled as he tugged her along. She didn’t care to look back at Lucas or say goodbye, solely focused on the man in front of her; the man who had come to save her from a stranger once more.

Once they got to a quieter part of the club, Lando faced her. “What on earth were you thinking? I told you before, you shouldn’t accept drinks from strangers, or let them touch you like that! Let me guess, you were planning to go home with him?”

Y/N looked at him in shock before her expression faded into a frown. He had been ignoring her all day, he had made it clear he no longer wanted anything to do with her, and now he was pulling her away from another man – what did he want from her? “Why do you care? You’re not my boyfriend! You don’t even like me!” She exclaimed frustratedly.

Lando froze at her words, completely taken aback. He thought he had been very clear with his intentions from the start; he had spent the entire vacation flirting with her, paid for her food and drinks, pulled out her chair, touched her whenever she would allow him, and now she was accusing him of not liking her? She couldn’t be more wrong, or oblivious for that matter.

“What the hell makes you think that?” He demanded, moving closer. His eyes wide in frustration as he provoked her, trying to find out where it had gone wrong.

Y/N stuttered under his intense gaze, suddenly forgetting why exactly she had concluded that. “You… You always make fun of me, and—”

“What?” Lando interjected. Made fun of her? He had teased her, yes, but he had never humiliated her, had he? He began to doubt himself, but didn’t let it show.

“You know, for a short moment there I thought P was right; that you actually liked me, but I realise now I was stupid. You don’t like me, or you sure got over it quickly!” Y/n said with more confidence. She was done with this. The entire vacation had been awkward and weird and she needed clarity; she needed to suck it up and get it over with; finish whatever was going on, even if she got hurt or humiliated herself in the process.

“What are you talking about?” Lando asked confused. At least she had gotten the hint sometime this vacation, but moving on? He hadn’t attempted it, and he wouldn’t succeed if he tried.

“The girl you were dancing with? She’s pretty,” Y/N huffed.

Lando laughed at her – so she had been watching him, too? – and Y/N flushed in frustration. “The girl I was dancing with?”

She nodded.

“You think I care about her?” He asked, his eyebrows raised in disbelief; as if her assumption was ridiculous. The way she acted – her arms crossed, and the pouty expression he loved so much – made it clear she was jealous, and Lando thoroughly enjoyed it; it was about time she returned the favour.

Y/N became defensive. “You seemed pretty into her. Yet, here you are, lecturing me about who I dance with, while you were—”

“You call that dancing?” Lando interrupted harshly, stepping closer again. “You were about to fuck in the middle of the dancefloor.”

Y/N gasps in offence. “I was not! I would never do that, I wasn’t going to go home with him! I don’t even know him, I—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Lando’s lips had crashed onto hers, silencing her effectively. Her protest and apparent jealousy were enough reason for him to believe she liked him back; enough reason for him to risk it. Y/N’s body froze in surprise, but the moment she felt Lando’s lips move against hers, firm yet desperate, she relaxed in his strong hold. His hands glided over her body before one settled on her hip, pulling her closer, while the other slid behind her neck, guiding her deeper into the kiss.

Y/N’s mind was reeling, her heart pounding heavily as she gasped for breath when Lando suddenly pulled away, letting go of her body. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

Before he could finish his apology, Y/N yanked him back by his shirt, cutting him off with her lips. Her fingers tangled in his curls, tugging softly as her other hand kept its tight grip on his shirt, as if she was afraid he’d try to pull away again.

Lando groaned softly against her lips, his hand sliding down her side again, his touch possessive yet gentle. He pulled her closer and pressed his hips into hers, a stark contrast to the gentle stroke of his thumb on her cheek.

Y/N lost herself in the moment, surrendering to the intensity of Lando’s kiss, her body responding to his every touch, every caress. At this moment, she would go along with whatever he wanted, enjoying it far too much to protest.

When the heat of the moment had worn off, Y/N finally pulled away, in desperate need of some fresh air. She leant her forehead against Lando’s, her eyes closed as she tried to process the situation. She’d kissed Lando, but what did this mean? Did he like her? Were they in a relationship now or would they go back to being friends tomorrow? She was incredibly confused, even more so than before.

Lando’s voice broke her train of thoughts. “We should… probably find Max and Pietra,” he muttered, softly squeezing her waist as if to wake her up from her thoughts. Y/N nodded, her cheeks flushed from Lando’s penetrative gaze and, not to forget, the intense kiss.

Lando led her to the bar, hoping to get a better view of the club from there, maybe Max and Pietra would spot them there, too. His hand was back in its rightful place on Y/N’s back as he guided her through the club. A small, satisfied smile settled on her face at the feeling, but she wasn’t reassured just yet; they needed to talk.

“There you are!” Pietra exclaimed when they neared the bar, quickly pulling Y/N into a hug. Pietra eyed the girl suspiciously at the lack of distance between her and Lando but didn’t mention it right away. Although it was obvious something had happened, she wasn't entirely sure what – she would ask later, when they were alone.

Max was oblivious, however. “You guys good to leave? We want to head back to the hotel,” he said, sending a cheeky look and wink over to Pietra.

Y/N nearly gagged at the suggestive comment but nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’re good to go,” she said, her eyes flicking to Lando’s for confirmation.

“Okay, let’s go,” Max uttered before heading the group in search of the exit. Lando walked ahead of Y/N, reaching his hand behind him for her to grab. He looked at her over his shoulder when it took too long, wiggling his fingers impatiently. Y/N blushed and grabbed his hand quickly, letting him guide her through the crowd.

The group entered one of the many taxis waiting outside the club. Max took the passenger’s seat as the rest settled in the back, Y/N in the middle. She could feel the gentle pressure and warmth of Lando’s hand on her bare knee as he rubbed slow circles into her skin. Pietra nudged her to catch her attention, nodding to Lando’s hand with a questioning look, only causing Y/N to blush more fiercely.

Pietra and Max quickly escaped to their room when they arrived at the hotel. If the sneaky kisses in the elevator were any indication of what was about to go down, Y/N was happy that their rooms weren’t next to each other.

Lando and Y/N slowly walked to their room, wanting to extend the moment before they had to face the reality of the situation.

“You okay?” Lando asked once they’d entered the room. His tone was soft and gentle, matching the reassuring hand rubbing her arm.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, so many thoughts running through my head right now. Like, what does this mean? You still haven’t confirmed that you like me too, and I don’t want this to be just a one-time thing, you know?” She admitted quietly, as if that would make the statement less intimidating.

“I like you, is that enough confirmation for you?” Lando said teasingly, yet lovingly. He couldn’t believe she still wasn’t sure about that after the kiss they shared. “And I don’t want that either,” he continued. “You think I would flirt with you for years just to have a one-time thing?” Lando questioned, his tone equally as soft as hers.

“No. But then again, I didn’t know you were flirting, I thought you were just making fun of me the entire time.”

Lando’s jaw hung slack at her comment, surprised at how bold she could be when she sounded so sweet. “Are you insulting my flirting now?”

“Hmm, maybe…” She said, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “Your name is perfect for it, Lando Norizz.” She giggled at her joke, and the fake offence Lando displayed.

“It worked though,” he protested.

“Just barely, it took a lot of intervention from P for me to realise you liked me.”

“Okay, I think that’s enough slander for tonight. Let’s go to sleep, hm?” Lando said, trying to distract her from making any more comments about his non-existent ‘rizz’.

She rolled her eyes, ready to protest, when he shut her up with a kiss. Not as firm and passionate as before, but sweet and adoring instead. She held his face gently, angling his lips to perfectly fit hers, before pushing him away.

“Sleep, you said?”

– – – – –

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at-this-point-i-dont-even-know · 3 months ago

Note

Maybe youll want to write a fic about a shift happening on the 4th of July, fireworks and firecrackers everywhere, and our poor vet Abbot going around ER all stressed, flinching and panicking at every explosion, and Dana/Robby calming him down, maybe some bigger breakdown?

pairing: Dr. Jack Abbott x F!Nurse!Ex-militaryReader

I ended up making this a follow up to my other story Don't go where I can't follow. This also got away from me and ended up being about three page long!

Warning: Panic Attack and general Pitt warnings

(Also I know nothing about fireworks, the Fourth of July or how Panic Attacks work except for what I found while googling, so please ignore anything that doesn't make sense)

My Inbox is still open for requests!

“What is with your fucking country and fireworks?” you mutter under your breath to Dr Robby as you both work on removing a patient's highly flammable pajama material after they decided to let off fireworks in their bedroom.

They were also 38 years of age.

“They're fun and pretty!” the older doctor said, smiling behind his glasses and mask. The smell was enough to turn your stomach.

“They literally burn peoples skin off! What's fun about that?”

“The colours, my love, it's the colours.” Dr Abbott walked behind the curtain, his own smile bright, “They sparkle and look pretty, so of course the idiots think they can control them. Or think they won’t get hurt because it's never happened before.”

You continued slowly pulling the material away from the burning flesh, your stomach rolling and your eyes sweating at the smell.

Dumb, dumb, dumb you mutter to yourself ignoring as your partner and his friend continued their discussion about the best fireworks they had ever let off.

“My dad once took us to Lake Tahoe when I was ten- I think- first time I ever got to set off fireworks, we put them in the mud on the banks, ran a fuse line a couple of feet, if that, and let them go. Except none of us knew that you should stagger them so about two hundred dollars worth of fireworks went off all at once. About ten seconds of excitement and a couple of burnt eyebrows was all our fourth of July excitement.”

Your boyfriend, (or partner, you hadn’t quite worked out the wording for what you were), looked so excited as he described his childhood memory.

Dr Robby joined it, explaining wildly about his own memorable mishap with fireworks.

You shook your head and made a quick exit, two attendings didn’t need a nurse to stand over them while they worked, so you quickly rushed off your gown and gloves and breathed in the fresh air of the ER. As fresh as air in the ER could be anyway.

It was the Fourth of July and you had awoken to Jack thrashing in the bed, a nightmare gripping him and forcing him to relive something horrific. Between the fifteen odd years of active duty and the hospital shooting last year, there are many things to hold Jack under while he sleeps.

So you are spending half your day keeping one eye on him, with the help of Dana, the current Charge nurse on shift, to make sure he wasn’t going to melt down half way through the day.

Between you taking on a double shift to be here, and Dr Robby doing the same, there were three sets of eyes on him at all times.

It felt like overkill as the fourth hour of the shift ticked over, a handful more people coming in with firework related injuries, some burns from barbecues, and a couple of sore heads from drinking mishaps but Jack was holding his own as he went from patient to patient helping the interns and residents do most of the heavy lifting.

You found him looking over the board as the hour dragged on, playing on his phone and laughing at something Dana was saying. You lean into him a little, bumping hips and shoulders.

Jack was the calmest you had seen him in months. For weeks after your shooting he had been on edge, every noise had set him off, anytime a door in the hospital slammed he had jumped to his feet ready for something. When you were discharged after seven long weeks, he had bought a car. No longer trusting you on public transport or walking from your apartment to the hospital, he insisted on driving everywhere. Which you had had to put a stop to because while Jack is an amazing doctor, loving partner and all round great guy- he was a terrible driver. It had taken you three months after your release from the hospital to get back to work, and even then it had been on the desk, not running the floor, which Jack had decided he liked more, “Easy to keep an eye on you.” he had said, which had led to more than a dozen fights before you returned to full nursing duties.

It had taken a while but Jack was no longer watching your every move, no longer shadowing you with every patient, or making an intern follow you everywhere (including the bathroom).

So you had noticed the irony of making his friends follow him around for the day.

“I know what you're doing.” he leant in and whispered into your ear, his words tickling your neck as you just looked up at him innocently.

“What am I doing?”

“I am ok- it was just a nightmare. I’m fine.”

“Maybe. But humour me?”

----

By hour seven you almost want to laugh at yourself for being so overly cautious.

Everything was going absolutely fine to the point you took a break to find coffee in the breakroom.

The lukewarm coffee was mainly something to put in your hand as you made your way back to the main desk, Abbott was with Dana again, laughing together over something when it happened.

A group of teenagers exited the lifts, laughing as they jostled each other, one with his arm in a sling and the others holding bags. They talk to each other and you give them nothing but a half second glance. Groups of teengers on the fourth of july is not a unique situation and not worth your time.

Until it was.

The fireworks shot from their bags, lights and noise echoing around the room.

Pink flashes, followed by blue and green. The sound ricocheting around, as sparks burned your skin on contact.

You drop to the floor, your heart in your chest as you remind yourself over and over again where you were.

Hospital.

Not a warzone.

Hospital.

It took only ten seconds for the sound and light to stop, but it echoed through your head for over a minute before you could finally pull yourself out of a panic and get to your knees.

Jack! You screamed internally, as you looked straight across where you had last seen him. Dana’s at her desk, her own eyes filled with tears as she rushes to put out spark fires and her calming voice, edged with fear, barked orders at the staff all still trying to find their calm after the fireworks.

But Jacks nowhere to be found.

“Dana! Jack?”

“Can’t find him.”

“He was just here!”

“Try the breakroom!”

You run, your heart once again in your throat as you search. The door slams shut behind you and you slide to a stop.

Jack is curled in on himself, in the smallest spot between the fridge and the wall. Your knees buckle as you fall in front of him, careful not to grab him.

He's muttering to himself, nothing that you could make out but it didn’t matter.

“Jack- Baby?”

He doesn’t look up, his face white as a sheet and his pupil blown. His head thrown back as he rocks himself in place, his head hitting the wall, over and over again. YOu rip off your cardigan and throw it between his head and the wall.

You know enough to know not to pull him immediately from a panic attack, it could end with him hurt or you hurt and neither would be good for Jack in the long run.

“I’m here, I'm not going anywhere.”

So you get comfortable on the floor, your legs crossed and your hands just out of reach of his, you hum a song from your own childhood over and over again, giving him something else to cling to then the demons he is fighting.

The break room door opens and you lean across and slam it shut on whoever tried to enter.

“OCCUPIED!” you yell before locking the door. There was nothing that Jack would like less than to know people saw him this way.

“Baby, you with me?”

His hands reached out and grabbed yours. They shook as he finally looked up with tears and fear showing through every movement.

“You’re here.” he whispered, before falling forward into your lap, your body cringing as his shoulder slammed into the ground.

You sit back, your fingers gently playing with his hair as his body's shaking finally settles, his breathing coming back minute after minute until you realise he had fallen asleep.

“I’m never leaving.” you promise.

#fanfiction #the pitt #jack abbott x reader #jack abbott x you #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x you #dana the pitt #dr robby #the pitt max

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ninaskitchn · 2 years ago

Text

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

#cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #jonathan crane fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #jonathan crane x you #cillian one shot #cillian fic #peaky blinder imagine #batman fanfiction #scarecrow x reader

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souliebird · 1 year ago

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 20]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.3k

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Pain radiates through your body as you begin to regain consciousness. There are two points that are throbbing and parts of you want to slip back down into the darkness until the aches are gone, but the rest of your body doesn’t like that plan.

Slowly, the switches in your mind are flipped to ‘on’ and you become more aware of what is happening around you. There are two people talking near you - a man and a woman whose words you cannot yet process, but the deeper voice sounds so very familiar and comforting. It takes a few moments or hours - you cannot tell - for you to give a name to who is speaking, but when you finally figure it out, your mouth speaks his name.

“Matt…?”

Your name is said, then something is touching your face. Your instinct tells you to pull away, so you try to, but there is a gentle pressure keeping you in place.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s just me, sweetheart. It’s just me.”

Forcing your eyes open takes a few tries and you have to blink multiple times to get anything into focus. Slowly, Matt’s face forms in your vision, looking so, so haggard. His hair is fluffed up like he’s been messing with it and he’s got a frown that is so out of place on him. He should be smiling or laughing. That is how you always picture him in your mind - warm and happy.

You realize it is his hand that is cupped along your jaw and press into it, letting your eyes close again. His thumb begins to rub along your cheek and you want to melt into it and allow yourself to drift back into the nothingness where there is no pain. Matt, however, has other ideas.

“I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?”

You do not want to do that, but since he is asking, your eyes open again. Your brain feels like sludge, but it is your knees that are screaming at you to not move.

You are startled into being more aware of your surroundings when a feminine voice speaks from above you.

“Matt, you need to move if you want me to do anything.”

He seems to hesitate, his face screwing up into something clearly unhappy before he finally pulls away from you. He doesn’t go far, though, stepping only a foot away. Only once your vision isn’t filled with a handsome-exhausted lawyer do you process that you are laying on your couch. You have no idea what is going on, why you are in pain, or how you got to this position, but part of you feels at ease because Matt is there with you.

You trust he won't let things go badly for you.

A beautiful, but tired, woman steps into your view, a pen light ready in her hand. She has an air of authority about her that has you not questioning why she is in your living room.

“My name is Claire, I’m a nurse,” she tells you and you introduce yourself. “You passed out. I'm going to check your eyes and ask you a few questions to make sure you don't have a concussion.”

“Okay.” You don't remember passing out, but it would explain a few things. Your anxiety-people-pleasing mind pushes your confusion down and wanting the examination to be easier for Claire, ask, “Do you want me to sit up?”

“Do you feel like you can?” She counters and you don’t really know the answer, so you try. Your head throbs as you do and your knees are not happy about bending, but you get yourself into sitting. More pieces are added to the puzzle of what is going on, but none of them make any sense.

You couldn’t tell before, but Matt is wearing a dark red jumpsuit that reminds you of Captain America’s armor. There had been a news segment where they had brought out a replica to talk about the design and the function and all you can think is Matt somehow got his own copy and customized it. For whatever reason. You certainly don’t know all of his hobbies - it could be a cosplay thing for all you know - or some kink - or both.

You are in no position to judge.

The other puzzle piece is Karen’s boyfriend, sitting at your kitchen table looking at his phone, with your daughter in his lap. She is splayed against him in her bright pink jammies and her sleep headband, and you can only guess how deep into dreamland she is. But why is she out here, being held by a near-stranger, and not in her bed?

You don’t get to ask that question - Claire is back in front of you with her penlight, shining it directly into your eyes. As she does, she fires questions at you.

What is your name? Birthday?

Where are you and who is the current president?

What is twenty divided by four?

You pass the concussion test and are rewarded with two of the biggest ibuprofens you have ever seen. You take them, chasing them down with water from your sticker-decorated water bottle, as Claire tells you what is what.

“You have a decent sized cut on your forehead. It needed three stitches - and those will dissolve on their own, so you don’t need to worry about that. I’ll give you some of these higher milligram pills for the headache you’ll have, but a good night’s rest will have you up on your feet again. Do you need instructions on how to clean the cut?”

You take in the information at face value, still unsure why you are being examined and cared for in your living room as opposed to a hospital. Everyone else seems so sure of what is happening and completely fine with it, so you simply shake your head.

“Um, no, I know how to take care of it.”

“Perfect,” she turns away and begins to pack up a backpack on the coffee table you did not even notice. “If you start getting nauseous, head to the ER. Now,” she turns to stare down Matt, “If my delicate hands are no longer needed, I’m going back to bed so I am well rested for the job I actually get paid for.”

“Thank you, Claire. I appreciate it,” he says in a soft voice, but there is a layer of gravel in it you aren’t used to.

The nurse finishes her packing, then looks to you with a small smile, “it is nice to finally meet you, I’m sorry it was like this. Late night calls have gone down since he told me about you.”

“Nice to meet you?” You say to her as she leaves your apartment, completely unsure of who you just met and what her connection to Matt is.

As you continue you try to comprehend what is going on, Matt moves towards you. He cups your jaw with both hands, smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks, “what were you thinking?”

You frown at not only the rougher tone he is using, but the question, “Matt, I don’t know what is going on. I don’t…”

You trail off and finally mentally address what you have been ignoring.

Your hand creeps up to your face and you feel the edges of the band aid covering up the cut on your forehead. How did you even manage to do that? Claire said you passed out - but how? And why? And why are Matt and Frank here?

Did Minnie call them like she did with Foggy when you were sick?

You don’t know those answers, so you switch to things you can figure out. You search your mind, trying to recall what you were doing before you apparently passed out. You remember cleaning the bathroom, then Minnie coming in and throwing up.

As those memories surface, the rest rush you - you took Mouse to the bodega and on the way home, some man attacked you. You remember struggling and fighting then…then there is nothing.

The fear you felt then tickles back into your throat and you can feel tears starting to form.

“We were attacked,” you breathe out and almost instantly, Matt is pulling you to him, wrapping his arms around you and cradling you as the reality of what happened hits you. You cling back, burying your face into the rough material covering his shoulder, and try to not break down.

You’d been slapped a few times - but no one has ever tried to physically hurt you to that extent before. You had never felt so helpless - so useless - before. You hadn’t been able to protect your daughter.

Hands had been around your throat and in your hair and you had flopped around like a fish.

He could have killed you.

He could have killed Minnie.

Matt gently rocks you as you process what happened to you. You try to not cry, but you can’t stop it when some tears do start to fall.

“Why were you out so late?” he asks into your hair and the guilt pools in your belly. You were so stupid to go out.

“Minnie was sick,” you mumble against Matt’s shoulder. “Her stomach was upset, and we didn’t have Pedialyte. We had to go get some.”

You can feel him frowning into your hair and it just makes you feel that much worse about everything.

“It couldn’t have waited until morning?”

“No.”

It’s not you that responds - it's the man across the room you completely forgot about. You lift up your head to look at Frank, confused why he is speaking up for you. Matt partially turns, pulling you along, and angles his head towards the other man.

“No?” He questions, not sounding pleased at all that someone else is chiming in.

“No,” Frank repeats firmly. “That’s bein’ a parent, Red. Your kid needs something in the middle of the night, you go out and get it. That’s how it is - there ain’t no waiting until morning when they are sick. That’s how they get dehydrated. She didn’t do anything different than any other mother in the city.”

Matt’s lip twitches and you have the feeling he is trying to not scowl or snap. You can tell he is just worried and upset over what happened, but you’d never seen him like this before.

But Frank is right - there was no scenario in which you did not go to get Minnie what she needed when she was sick.

You look to your baby, and you need her in your arms. You pull away from Matt, wiping at your eyes as you do, and make your way to your small dining room. You feel more than see Matt follow you - practically becoming your shadow until you are in front of Frank. Once you stop walking, he is against you again, his chest to your back and his hand on your hip.

Your daughter is dead weight as she is passed to you and you cradle her to your chest, giving her hair a kiss before asking, “Is she okay?”

“She’s okay,” Frank assures, and you feel like he is speaking to both you and Matt. “Probably going to have some nightmares and be clingy, but you’ve got one brave and smart little girl.” You smile a bit at the praise, because you like to think the same thing about Mouse - brave and smart - your perfect little angel.

“Gave her some of that Pedialyte,” he adds, “and she drank it all, so hoping whatever made her sick will be gone.”

“Thank you,” you mumble. You feel like he is a father and that is why Minnie seems comfortable with him, but he has an air about him that makes you not want to ask.

You rock your daughter in your arms, feeling so grateful that she doesn’t have a scratch on her. You have no idea what you would have done if she had been hurt in any way.

You can feel yourself starting to calm - your tears are slowing as you accept and process things and part of you just wants to curl up in bed with your family and sleep for twelve hours.

Unfortunately, that is not in the cards for you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Matt’s head jerk towards the main door, and you can’t help but tense up. His vibe since you have woken up has been on edge and you're surprised he hasn’t snapped or something, yet. He pulls away from you to stalk towards the hallway and you hold Minnie just a bit closer to you, unsure what he could have heard.

He swings the door open and there is a woman with thick jet black hair and bored looking expression. She pushes past Matt without care and enters into your apartment.

“Don’t ever ask me to do that again.”

“What happened?” Matt asks.

“Well, he’s not dead, but he won’t be waking up anytime soon. I even got you a report number, so you can follow up,” the woman says, and you realize they are talking about the man who attacked you. That makes your heart start beating a little harder and your mouth feel dry.

“Did they say where they were taking him?”

You tune out of the conversation and instead focus on holding Minnie. You press your lips to her hair and avert your eyes away from Matt and the woman. You look briefly to Frank, who is back on his phone, then let your eyes wander elsewhere. Minnie’s sippy cup is sitting on the dining table, so you decide you can at least clean that up.

As you move around the table, something else catches your attention.

There’s a large black bullet proof vest sitting on one of the dining chairs, with a distinctive looking skull spray painted on it.

You’ve seen that skull before - it’s a common thing to see spray painted on a wall or post box around Manhattan. It’s a symbol everyone in the city knows just as well as Spider-man’s emblem or Captain America’s shield - it’s the Punisher’s logo.

The Punisher - whose real name is Frank Castle, who, if you recall correctly, looks strikingly similar to the man sitting at your dining table.

For some reason you do not understand, you do not panic. You simply stare at the vest, all the connections flying around in your brain, and mentally go ‘Well, that makes sense.’

The Punisher is here because he was with Matt.

Matt’s dark red jumpsuit isn’t a cosplay or a kink thing - it’s armor.

It’s armor because he is Daredevil - the protector of Hell’s Kitchen.

Matt is Daredevil.

Daredevil is Minnie’s Dad.

That’s why he sometimes has bruises and cuts you don’t ask about. That’s why his knuckles are scarred.

That’s why he is in your apartment tonight - Daredevil stops people from being mugged.

You were being mugged and he came and rescued you. He called his Superhero Doctor to come make sure you were okay so you wouldn’t have to go to the hospital and explain how a blind man stopped the attack.

“You okay?”

You look to Frank, and you expect to see blood and guns and mayhem, but all you see is the man who brought you soup. You see Matt’s friend and Karen’s boyfriend - who are two of the kindest people you have ever met in your life. They have treated you better than anyone ever has in your life. They care about you.

You flash back to your very first encounter with Frank and you recall how you were scared of him, but Minnie wasn’t. Minnie - who is unsure about everyone new. You trusted her instincts even before you knew about her gifts - you’d once heard you can tell a person’s intentions by how toddlers and dogs react to them, and you’ve always found it to be true.

So, you decide to trust Minnie as well as your initial reaction - it may possibly be because of a concussion but you would actually like to sit and think about what you just learned rather than react blindly.

“I’m okay,” you say slowly, sticking with how you feel in that exact moment, and not how your night is going. “I think I’m going to go lay her down.” You hesitate, then decide you still need to be a good host, since this is your apartment, ask, “Would you like anything to drink?”

“No, thank you, ma’am,” he says, his lips turning up into a small smile. “Think it’s time for me to head out - leave you and Red to have a talk.”

Your cheeks heat up and you know he knows you have figured out who he is. You hold Minnie even tighter and look down to your feet, your anxiety over being perceived starting to spike.

But you know better than to be rude and Frank has always been kind to you and Mouse.

“Thank you, Frank. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”

You do not flee, but you do walk a little faster than normal to carry Minnie to bed. You oh so carefully place her down and tuck her in, making sure Pig is right there with her. Scooby must be out in the living room, and you’ll need to grab him when you finally are able to lay down.

You stare down at your daughter, who is sleeping so peacefully, and let everything wash over you again. You cover your mouth to try to repress a sob, but you know it doesn’t matter - Matt will still hear it.

Everything is changing so much and so fast and you don’t know how to deal with it.

First, you finally find Minnie’s father, then you find out he has super senses and your daughter inherited them, and now you learn he is a superhero.

You don’t know how to even begin to process this development. There is no guide for this and you aren’t even sure how you even feel.

You can’t be angry at Matt - you don’t know how he got into crime fighting, but you know how passionate he is about being a lawyer and helping people. You know he loves Hell’s Kitchen deeply and you can’t imagine having to hear every little crime that goes on.

You don’t know much about Daredevil. You know he sticks to Hell’s Kitchen and he’s made the area safer. He stops muggings and break-ins, and he’s cleared out various gangs. You know the community likes him for the most part - there is actually a mural of him in an alleyway near the diner.

But what does it mean for you and Minnie?

How does Matt being Daredevil work with him being a father? If you look back over the last few weeks, you haven’t really noticed anything off.

But what if he gets into a fight he can’t handle?

Or some bad guy learns who he is and comes after Minnie to get to him? You know that happens to politicians and cops and such, so it would be no different for a vigilante.

What secrets will you need to keep?

Do you need to learn more than basic first aid - like how to stitch someone up?

How will you explain this to Minnie?

Does he know Spider-man? Captain America?

Does he kill?

There are so many questions ping-ponging around in your mind you don’t notice when Matt enters the bedroom.

He comes up behind you and says your name in a soft voice before wrapping his arms around your waist. He holds you to his chest, chin dropping over your shoulder, and to your surprise, you find yourself leaning into his hold.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” he tells you and you close your eyes at his words, letting his voice wash over you and corral your thoughts into something quiet. “I had a plan to tell you - to explain everything. I swore to myself I wasn’t going to hide anything from you.”

You believe him.

You wish you would have known sooner, but you also understand why he didn’t tell you. It’s not just something you tell someone, and Matt has proven that his intentions have always been good.

“Am I going to get another binder?” you ask, sniffling a little as you do to stop more tears from coming.

“If you want one, I’ll make you one,” he instantly replies, “just please don’t take Minnie away. I beg of you.”

You can hear the fear and pain in his voice, and you know exactly how he feels. You remember how scared you were that he would take Minnie away.

You turn in his arms - looping yours around his middle and resting your forehead on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t do that. Not unless she is put into danger.”

“I would never.”

Again, you believe him.

His arms tighten around you until you're snuggly pressed into him and you can feel armor and buckles pressing against you. You squeeze him back, needing the comfort and needing something to ground you.

You need to feel safe.

Matt makes you feel safe. He made you feel safe before you knew what he did in the night and now it’s just amplified.

“Did you stop him?” You ask in a whisper. “The man who attacked us?”

“I did,” he responds. “I’ll stop anyone who dares to try to hurt my family.”

You shakily nod against him, then ask the question you fear, “Did…did she see?”

He doesn’t respond right away, but when he does, the guilt is palpable, “No. Frank made sure she didn’t see anything.”

That eases your anxiety a fraction. You will need to talk with Minnie about what happened, and you already fear that conversation. She has never seen anything so violent before and you are surprised she isn’t already having bad dreams. You have no idea how she’s going to react in the morning.

You have no idea how you will react in the morning.

You press your face into the crook of Matt’s neck, where there’s some type of rough black fabric. He begins to rub his hand up and down your back - you don’t think it will be soothing, but you don’t want him to stop.

You want him to stay and hold you.

You want him to keep you safe.

So, you tell him.

“Stay the night,” you mumble against him, and he nods into your hair.

Neither of you move to pull away - you stay holding each other in front of your daughter and you wonder if he needs the comfort as much as you do.

It feels like time crawls by and your knees, which you must have banged up in the attack, start to make it known that you need to stop standing. Matt must sense something, as he nuzzles into your hair and whispers, “We can talk more in the morning. Let's get you to bed.”

You hum in agreement, then slowly bring your arms around to Matt’s front so you can place your hands on his chest, “I need to change. I’ll grab you some sweatpants and a shirt.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

It still takes you a minute to finally step away and when you do, his hands drop from you. As you go to dig for clean sleep clothes, Matt begins to undress. You try to not turn to look - you are curious about how the suit is put together and how he gets in and out. You didn’t see any zippers or other clasps, but you suppose he wouldn’t want those out in the open if he’s fighting someone.

You find two sets of sweats, one large enough for Matt. You hesitate to start changing, but then remind yourself that not only is he blind, but you’ve slept together, so you have no reason to be shy. So, you strip and pull on your new pajamas.

Matt is still working on his boots when you turn back around, so you set his clothes on the bed. You remember then you are missing a member of the sleep squad.

“Do you know where Scooby is?”

To his credit, Matt doesn’t look confused. You wait patiently as he uses his abilities, then smile when he tells you the toy is under the coffee table. You go to fetch him, and finally drop Minnie’s sippy cup in the sink, and when you return, Matt has finished changing.

You hold out Scooby to him with a small smile, “Do you want to tuck him in?”

Matt’s solemn face lights up and he takes the dog. You watch, with a strange lightness coming over your heart, as he places Scooby beside Pig. He places the tenderest of kisses to your daughter’s temple, and you can see him move his lips, but are unsure what he actually says.

You let him have his moment before taking his hand and tugging him towards your bed. He won’t be sleeping on the couch tonight and both of you know it. You lay down first, then he does, stretching out on his back.

“Come here,” he breathes, and you obey. You roll so you can curl into his side, resting your head on his shoulder and a hand on his chest. His arm wraps around you and you feel Safe.

Your body and mind feel so heavy as you close your eyes, and you hope you can sleep as peacefully as Minnie.

The two of you lay in silence and when you finally succumb to your exhaustion, as the darkness takes you, you once again hear Matt’s soft voice.

“I love you.”

AN: Its not mentioned bc Reader missed it but it is very important to me that everyone know Jess brought Matt his gloves as well.

Also new header :3C

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath

@allllium

@anehkael

@nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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grandline-fics · 4 months ago

Note

For Valentine's event! I'm so deeply in love how you write, especially Doflamingo!! So maybe, True love's kiss for him?

Anyway thanks for your works they're all amazing 🙌💕

DESCRIPTION: True Love's Kiss- The moment they realise they're in love

WARNINGS: none (at least I don't think so, other than the fact is about Doflamingo)

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 1,420

A/N: At first I was tempted to link this to Immune To Your Charms but then decided against it so we could have a different version of Doffy and another version of his realisation he's capable of love. I hope you enjoy what I came up with for this for you anon. Thank you for the request!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI | VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST

———————

Doflamingo thrived on the adoration and unequivocal loyalty of his family, his most trusted elite officers in the inner circle ready to throw their lives down should he simply say the word. The rush that would flood his system when his subordinates and civilians bowed low before him took him flooding back to his short lived days in his rightful standing as a Celestial Dragon; it’s never quite the same that his nostalgia had preserved in his memory but it's as close as it’ll ever get. The only other thing that ever came close to giving him a surge of true satisfaction and happiness is when you, one of his best and most precious officers, would throw him that sweet smile contrasting with that sharp and dangerous gaze of yours and greet him with a smooth “Hello Doffy.”

He could always count on you to see to it that any mission he gave you was executed perfectly and without hesitation. Not only did you take pride in your efficiency and skill but seeing it recognised in a man like Doflamingo mattered to you too. You knew that Doflamingo’s trust and reliance on you had nothing to do with the fact that you were Doflamingo’s current lover. As it was, you understood your place in the whole situation, just as you’d witnessed with his previous entanglements.

It was only ever going to last as long as your King wished it to. Should anyone else ever catch his eye and attention and he wished them to warm his bed instead of you, you would be cast aside in that regard. You came to terms with that long ago and idly part of your mind always wondered when that day would come so you enjoyed what you had for as long as Doflamingo wanted you that way.

One morning you were summoned to his office for your latest mission. Wordlessly you accepted the information he handed over to you and began to read it over while listening to his every word. “Seems someone’s been pushing their nose into places that doesn’t concern them. That’s the most recent location we could learn so it’s likely they’ve moved on already.” He explained, his sinister grin in place. “I know it’ll be no issue for you to track them down and taking care of them before returning home to me.”

“Sure you don't want me to take my time?” You asked curiously, finally lifting your head with your own smile curving your lips. “You normally enjoy it when I make them suffer first.”

“You’ll already be spending time away in search of your prey, my dear.” Doflamingo explained while rising from his seat to step around the desk to stand in front of you. Never needing his strings to make you move or respond in the ways he wished, you simply always knew. Keeping your eyes on his face, you turned to face him, stepping back until the desk was now behind you and his hands settled on the wood to playfully cage you in. “I’d much rather have you go and kill and come back, otherwise I’d just miss you too much.”

For the smallest moment his words threw you off but you quickly controlled your expression. Unfortunately you weren’t fast enough and it hadn’t gone unnoticed to Doflamingo. Lifting one hand away to pinch your chin he made you look firmly at him, refusing to let you go until he got answers out of you. Doflamingo knew you wouldn’t have to force it out of you. The second he asked, you’d answer. “Now what was that look for? What could I have said to possibly create such a face?”

“Just surprised my absence would have such an affect on you.” You explained calmly, your smile returning. “There’s plenty here that’ll keep you company if I take too long. Speaking of, with your permission, I’ll go straight away Doffy.” Doflamingo regarded you silently and moved his hand from your chin to thread his fingers into your hair and pulled you in as he leant forward to capture you lips in a harsh, bruising kiss. Under his lead, you effortlessly followed the pace and intensity of the kiss, only breaking apart when he allowed it to. Breathless and dazed you could only stare at Doflamingo when he released you, offering a small but determined nod when he ordered you to complete your mission as fast as you could.

——

Two weeks went by and still you hadn’t returned, leaving Doflamingo to feel restless. Uncomfortably so. He had been receiving updates from you steadily up until a few days ago, everything in code and brief but you hadn’t given him any signal that something was wrong. You were closely on the heels of your target who you were certain you’d catch up to soon. Doflamingo had no doubts about your abilities, you were one of his best so he knew you’d get the job done but still something was annoying him about it all. He was also unshakable in his knowledge of your loyalty to him, there was no way you’d leave him but he still needed to know what was causing his agitation. Thinking back to the day you left he remembered the look of genuine surprise that captured your usually self-assured features when he spoke of how he’d miss you.

Your little comment about others keeping him company also hadn’t gone unnoticed by him either. Truth be told now that he had the time to think about, you had lasted so much longer than anyone else had as his lover. Those that came before you held no true interest with him, simply attractive things that allowed him to satisfy his needs before he kicked them out of his bed and sought his next source of entertainment in another person. You held his every attention, staying close to him even without having to give your body or touch to him. It was you he wanted and he had meant what he’d said when he said he missed you when you were gone, only now he seemed to realise just how much.

Two more days passed before you returned to Dressrosa’s Palace, walking slowly and tensed. At your arrival in the entrance hall, you saw a few servants hurrying in different directions most likely in search of Doflamingo to let him know. You didn’t know why they bothered, he was going to be the first person you sought out to report the success of your mission and apologise for taking longer than you should have. You were only halfway up the staircase when Doflamingo appeared at the top, watching you climb the last few steps until you were beside him.

Carefully he inspected your face. You looked exhausted, dark circles under your eyes and your shoulders slumped slightly. You were barely staying awake, he could see the steeled focus in your gaze as you were determined to remain conscious enough to greet him with an attempt at your usual sweet smile. “Hello Doffy. Sorry I took longer than intended.”

“Was the mission successful?”

“Mhm.” You nodded before covering you mouth to yawn. “Target was a nuisance though.”

“In what way?” Doflamingo lifted you effortlessly into his arms and carried you to his quarters.

“Devil Fruit user.” You explained with a mumble, a small hum of contentment breaking from your lips when you were laid down on his bed, sinking against the pillows. Doflamingo tilted his head curiously at that revelation. Had he known that the target had an ability, he would have ensured you were better prepared for that. Doflamingo felt relief wash over him to see you’d been unharmed, knowing better than anyone how monstrous Devil Fruits were, and made sure that in future you would be better prepared so there would be no surprises like that on your missions. “Doffy? Why am I in your room?”

“I had your things moved here while you were away, of course.” He chuckled watching you struggle to open your eyes to look at him in confusion. “It seemed as though you had a lapse in awareness about your standing with me. Your place is beside me always and there will never be any room for anyone else. Understand, love?” For emphasis he pressed a tender kiss against your lips.

“I understand.” You hummed softly, the loving smile gracing your lips suddenly securing itself in Doflamingo’s regard as something no-one else could ever come close to competing with.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya , @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall , @redwolfxx , @jevoislesbrasdemer , @schanwow , @pao198391 , @glitchtricks94 , @nina-ya , @48daisies , @sagyunaro , @artemis162534 , @rosemary-lungs , @thecraftywriter , @rorozorolover , @yagirlsmuchelle , @engenemoazen , @sukunasstomachtongue , @nico-ith

#one piece #one piece fic #one piece scenario #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #grandline fics valentines event #one piece x you #one piece x reader #doflamingo x you #doflamingo x reader #op doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo one piece #doffy #doflamingo donquixote #donquixote doflamingo x reader #doffy one piece #one piece doflamingo

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passionatefanficgirl · 4 months ago

Text

Maybe Things Are Looking Up

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Shy!Autistic!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your friend sets you up on yet another blind date, much to your annoyance.

Warnings/tags: Soft Bradley, age gap (reader is in their 20s), mentions of autism, implied sensory issues, Bradley being an absolute sweetheart, one implication of sex (blink and you miss it), mention of crying, lots of fluff, a bit of angst, implied low self-esteem (I think?), super self-indulgent, mentions of throwing up, mention of injuries (nobody gets hurt), one mention of dieting

A/N: I feel like I'm having way too much fun writing for soft Bradley. (Sorry, the writing's probably kind of clunky.)

***************************************************

A knock on the door makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

He's here.

Your heart is pounding as you take one last look in the mirror. You can't say you're impressed with what you see, but at least you look presentable.

It's very difficult to not trip as you rush down the stairs, already regretting wearing heels. They're very uncomfortable, and your balance isn't the best, so you normally opt for flats, but you want to make a decent impression.

For a moment, you consider hiding, saying you're sick, allowing yourself to break your ankle on these ridiculous heels.

Anything but go on this date.

Why, oh, why did Callie have to set me up with one of her pilot friends? you wonder, as you fumble around for your keys. Why does she even feel the need to set me up at all? I've told her time and time again that I'm resigned to the fact that I will be single for most of my adult life.

It takes you much longer than normal to unlock the door, mainly because your hands are shaking so badly that you can barely get the key in.

But once the door's finally open, you stare in shock at the man before you.

After all, it's not every day you see a guy with an 80s mustache, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and aviator sunglasses at your front door.

He should look absolutely ridiculous.

But he doesn't. Quite the opposite, in fact. He's very, very attractive. Unfairly so, you think.

Especially considering you're suddenly acutely aware that the colour on your dress doesn't really suit you, and neither does the style. You knew it didn't suit you when you picked it out, but you just pulled it on anyway in an act of rebellion, mainly because you didn't want to make a good impression.

Something you're sorely regretting, especially because you now feel extremely unattractive.

"Hey," he says. "Y/N, right?"

You nod, your mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

He holds out a hand. "I'm Bradley."

Why's he holding his hand out? You take it anyway, forcing a smile.

"You ready?" Bradley asks.

You nod.

He's surprisingly courteous, letting you hold onto his arm as he walks you to his car, and helping you in before getting in the other side.

"So, any ideas where you'd like to go?" he asks.

Oh, no. Your chest clenches with fear, and you shake your head, hoping you're not doing it too vigorously.

"How about the restaurant near the bar?" he suggests. "I've never been there, but I heard it's a nice place."

You nod, desperately hoping that he won't get mad at you for not speaking.

The rest of the drive is silent.

After he's parked the car, he turns to you. "These doors are a little tricky when you're not used to them. I'll get yours for you."

"Okay," you whisper. It's the first thing you've said all evening.

Once Bradley's helped you out, and locked the car, he offers you his arm.

"The restaurant's usually a little busy this time of day," he explains. "Callie'd never forgive me if I lost you on our first date."

You just nod as you take his arm, feeling more and more shy by the minute. You can tell that Bradley's trying to put you at ease, but you've already worked yourself up so much that you don't even know if it's possible for you to calm down.

***************************************************

Fortunately, you're seated very quickly. You have a feeling that it might have something to do with Bradley being so familiar with the staff, but you brush it off. He's probably just a friendly person.

Still, you're not complaining about being off your feet. Those heels were definitely a mistake.

"Do you want a menu, Y/N?" asks Bradley.

You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice, and then nod, your face burning.

"Here." His hand brushes yours as he hands you one.

You manage a small smile as you take it.

You're not very hopeful as you read down the menu. While they look nice, none of the main courses sounds like something you'd eat. Normally, if you were out with a friend or your family, and you ran into a situation like this, you'd order off the children's menu, but you're too scared to here, in case Bradley thinks you're weird, or makes fun of you for it.

"So, what are you thinking?" asks Bradley.

You look up, wishing your throat wouldn't clench so. Hoping he won't think you're rude, you show him what you're ordering. Fortunately, some of the sides look okay, so you've decided to order a couple of them in lieu of a main.

"You sure that's all you want?" he asks. "You don't want a main?"

You nod.

Bradley leans forward, lowering his voice. "You know, if there's nothing you like, we can just go to another restaurant."

You shake your head. Tears begin pricking at your eyes as you try to find the words to explain, almost wishing he'd just snap at you. For some reason, his kindness is making you feel much worse than if he got annoyed, or yelled at you.

It takes some time, but you manage to push past the barrier between your brain and vocal cords. "It's - it's not that I don't like anything, I just - I'd prefer to order off the children's menu. It's just - more familiar territory."

"Hey, that's okay," says Bradley gently. "Was that all you were worried about?"

Not exactly. But you nod anyway.

"I don't mind you ordering off the kids' menu, and I'm not gonna make fun of you for it, okay? I just want to make sure you have a good time."

You manage a small smile. "That's - very kind of you."

Bradley smiles. "It's nothing."

As the server comes over to take your order, your nerves suddenly increase tenfold. You've always hated having to speak to order, but you've never really felt comfortable typing an order out and just showing it to the server, either.

"Hi, can I take your order?"

You don't even hear Bradley tell the server his order, because you're trying to plan out what you're going to say - and try and stir up the courage to actually say it.

Then you feel a hand on your arm, and your face burns as you realise that you haven't even acknowledged the server, and have in fact been staring into space for some time.

"Do you want me to order for you?" Bradley's voice is very soft, whether to try and calm you, or to save you from any more embarrassment, you're not quite sure.

You nod, feeling horribly guilty at ignoring the server, but not really knowing what to say.

But you do apologise to Bradley once the server's gone. "Sorry. I didn't mean to - sorry…"

"It's okay." Bradley's voice is still very soft. "You're nervous, I get it. You don't have to be sorry."

"But I embarrassed you."

Bradley shakes his head. "You didn't. And even if you had, I promise you I've been in worse situations."

"Like what?" You regret the words the second they come out of your mouth. Don't ask him about embarrassing situations, you idiot!

But, judging by the grin on his face, Bradley doesn't seem to mind.

"Well, there was this one time at The Hard Deck…"

At first, you're not really listening, mostly because you're still trying to shake off your embarrassment, but you soon get drawn in to the story, and by the time Bradley finishes, you're feeling much more at ease.

"Okay, here are your meals."

You feel yet another stab of fear. What if I make a mess? What if the texture of the food makes me throw up everywhere?

But you manage a small smile as the server hands you your meal.

You're both silent as you eat, you because you're trying not to spill everywhere, and Bradley - well, you're not really sure. Maybe he's not the type to talk while eating.

But then why did he suggest a restaurant for our date?

Fortunately, Bradley seems to understand that you're nervous, and doesn't push you to speak too much. You do notice him glancing at you several times, and you feel guilty for not being more chatty, but it feels like there's a massive barrier between your brain and your vocal cords, one that you just can't face pushing through.

"How's your dinner?" he asks.

You look up. "It's good, I guess."

He raises his eyebrows. "You sure?"

You nod. "Um - how's yours?"

He smiles. "It's good. What're you thinking for dessert?"

Oh, no.

It's not that you don't like sweet things. Or that you're dieting. You just don't want to risk making yet another mess. You've already dropped some food onto the floor, and you only just managed to fight your gag reflex when you accidentally chewed a piece of food too long.

"Um, I'm kind of full."

"Yeah, me too. They're pretty generous with the portions here." He must have noticed that you're feeling uncomfortable, because he adds softly, "Do you want to leave?"

You nod.

"Okay."

After he's signalled to the server that you're ready to pay, Bradley tells you that he's going to pay.

You don't feel entirely comfortable with him paying the entire bill, but before you can protest, he's already paid.

You wobble as you stand up, and Bradley hastily takes hold of your arm before you can fall.

"I'm never wearing heels again," you mumble.

He just smiles. "You're not used to them, I take it?"

You shake your head. "I don't really go out much. In fancy stuff, I mean." Or at all.

Just like on the way there, you're silent on the way back.

You've got a horrible feeling that you messed up, and now Bradley's angry with you. What if he wanted dessert? What if he wanted to stay longer? What if-

Before you know it, Bradley's pulling up outside your house.

"I'll get your door for you," he tells you.

As Bradley goes to get out of the car, you stop him.

"Um - look, I'm sorry I wasn't very chatty this evening. I just - sorry…"

"That's okay," he replies. "It's not your fault for being shy."

You shake your head. "I'm not just shy. I'm - look, I know I've been difficult pretty much the entire evening. And - I wish I could do something about it, but I can't, and-"

"Hey, what's all this about?" Bradley looks genuinely puzzled. "You weren't difficult."

"I was."

"How?"

You feel tears welling up, and you desperately try to force them back. "I didn't talk for most of the evening, I was messy with my food, and I was rude to a server. And now I've ruined your evening. I'm - I'm sorry."

Bradley doesn't reply immediately, and for one horrible moment, you wonder if he's angry with you.

You don't even realise you're picking at your hands, until Bradley takes your hands in his.

"Y/N," he begins softly. "You don't have to look at me, but please hear me out. You were not being difficult. That incident with the server was not your fault. If anything, it's on me. I should've made sure you were ready to order before the server came over."

You feel a couple of tears roll down your cheeks, whether from relief or something else, you're not really sure.

Bradley gently brushes them away. "I know you didn't talk much, but - I don't mind that. I know not everybody's a talker, and I'm fine with you using other ways to communicate if that makes you feel more comfortable. And I certainly don't mind if you're a messy eater. You don't have to look perfect, okay?"

You suddenly feel light, like a heavy weight's just been lifted off your shoulders. He's not mad?

"But it can't have been a fun evening for you."

Bradley's eyebrows pinch together. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, I just-" You pause, taking a breath. "I just - I feel like I have this bad effect on people - like I just jinx a night out and make it awkward and horrible when it doesn't have to be, because I'm just so socially inept."

"Oh, sweetheart. How often do you feel like that?"

You hang your head, trying hard to hide your tears. "Every day."

"I'm sorry. It must be hard."

You nod, almost wishing he wouldn't be so nice about it. It's hard enough trying to keep yourself together around people who don't really care, but it's nearly impossible around someone who does.

"Do you ever feel like that with Callie?" asks Bradley.

You shake your head. "She's the exception. We've known each other all our lives, so…"

"That's good."

You're both silent for a while. Bradley's started gently tracing patterns on your hands, which you're actually enjoying the feeling of.

"You know," he says, "tonight wasn't too bad."

"You think so?"

He smiles. "Yeah. I enjoyed your company. If it's okay with you, I'd like us to meet up again some time."

"For a date?"

"Only if you're comfortable with that."

You manage a small smile. "Okay. I - I'd like that. But - can we not do it in public?"

"Of course." Bradley gives your hand a gentle squeeze. "If that's going to make you feel more comfortable, then I'm fine with it."

You nod. "Thanks. You're - you're very kind."

"I try." He goes to open his door, but then stops. "You okay walking in those?"

That's when you suddenly remember you're wearing heels. Blushing, you shake your head. "I'll probably fall over."

"You want me to carry you?"

You shake your head again. "I'll just take them off."

He frowns. "I noticed some broken glass on the ground earlier. I don't want you stepping on it and hurting yourself."

Despite yourself, you giggle. "I guess you'll have to carry me, then." Not that I'm complaining.

Bradley just smiles and pats your arm, before getting out. "I'll get your door for you."

While he's going around the car to open your door, you arrange your handbag in your lap so that you'll be able to reach your keys easily. You haven't been carried in a long time, so you're a little nervous about how it might feel.

Bradley must have noticed that you're nervous, because he's very gentle as he lifts you, and makes sure you're completely comfortable before he starts walking. You're surprised at how easily he carries you, like you weigh nothing - and how safe you feel in his arms.

He doesn't seem to want to let you go. Even once he's right outside your front door, he still doesn't set you down.

"Um - I should be okay from here," you begin, rather nervously.

"I know," says Bradley. "But I was actually thinking it might be safer if I get you settled on your sofa, so you can get those shoes off, before you start walking. I don't have to if you're not comfortable with me being in your house, though."

That actually makes sense. "No, that's - that's fine."

It only seems to take a few seconds before Bradley has you in your house, and settled on the sofa. You take your shoes off with a sigh of relief.

"I am never wearing heels again."

Bradley chuckles. "You really hate those shoes, huh?"

You smile. "I guess so. I would get rid of them, but someone bought them for me, so it just wouldn't feel right to give them away, you know?"

"Yeah. I get that."

You stand up. "Um - Bradley?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For being so kind."

He shakes his head. "It's nothing. I'm just glad you had a good time."

You nod, suddenly feeling rather shy. "Yeah. Um - see you."

Bradley smiles. "See you around."

Once he's gone, and you've locked the door, you go upstairs, and collapse on your bed with a sigh.

Can I be bothered to change into my pajamas?

You're replied by the seam digging into your back. Yes, I can.

***************************************************

Once you're back in bed, you curl up, preparing to do some scrolling. It's been a long day, and you need some headspace.

It's a relief to be back in your normal clothes once again. That dress was not very comfortable.

Your phone buzzes.

It's a message from Callie.

You home yet?

You type a reply. Yes.

How'd it go?

You pause, thinking out an answer. Was okay. Bradley was really nice. He offered to take me out again.

Take him up on it.

I already did.

Good. You know, I thought you'd get on well. He's a bit more mature than the guys our age.

You frown. How old is he?

He's in his thirties, I think.

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest. Thirties?! Callie! Why didn't you tell me?

I did.

I didn't see it.

You hastily scroll back through your messages.

Oh, nevermind. You did. Sorry.

Told you. And he's not ancient, Y/N. He's in his early thirties.

But - his thirties! I'm practically a kid compared to him!

You're not. I'm the same age as you, I'm friends with him, and you're more mature than me.

I guess we are both adults. But still… Did you tell him?

Tell him what?

That I'm younger than him.

Of course. And he's a good guy, Y/N. He'd have never asked you out on a second date if he wasn't comfortable with the age gap.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Good to know. Oh, we're still meeting up for drinks on Tuesday, right?

Yep.

Okay. Bye.

Byee.

Well, that was unexpected, you think, putting your phone aside.

But you don't really mind the age gap. So long as Bradley's okay with it - which he seems to be - then you are, too.

Plus, it would explain why you actually enjoyed tonight. You've been on dates before with guys your age, but you've never really enjoyed them.

For one thing, none of them have ever been as nice as Bradley, and for another, they've always wanted you to come back to their place…

Another message from Callie pops up.

Oh, hey, forgot to tell you I gave Bradley your number.

You groan. Callie is enjoying herself way too much.

He said he'd message you tomorrow.

Why tomorrow?

There's a bit of a pause before Callie replies.

He says he noticed you were tired out, and he doesn't want to bother you until you've rested.

You feel your throat getting a little tight. That's so sweet.

Told you he was nice. I'm telling you, Y/N, he's a keeper.

Callie, we've only been on one date - and even that wasn't really a date.

Close enough.

You grin. I'm going to bed now. See you Tuesday.

Byee.

Putting your phone on silent, and setting it aside, you roll over, grinning like an idiot.

Maybe things are starting to look up.

************************************************

As always, I do not give permission for anyone to copy my work, repost it elsewhere, etc.

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