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dammn-dean · 6 months

Text

Unexpected

Pairing: Simon Riley x Female Reader

Words: 4000

Warnings: Pregnancy, secrets, probably a bit out of character

I wanted to write a pregnant!Reader fic so here we are... I haven't written in a long time and this is my first time writing a COD character! Any and all feedback is welcome 🖤

Shout out to @babygirl-riley for helping me with this. Thank you!

“Simon?” your small voice echoes from the phone.

“Yeah?” He answers, in his typical bored voice.

Only letting the phone ring once before answering. Obviously he wouldn’t have answered if he wasn’t available at the moment, but you never know.

“Are you… busy?”

Your voice is different… raising Simon’s curiosity. He could only think of a handful of times since he met you that you had ever even tried calling him without sending a text first to check if he was in at base or not.

“A little, why?” He doesn’t mean to sound so gruff, but he does. He also wasn’t necessarily busy, but he wasn’t in the mood to chat with you. His day was especially shit today.

“I.. um well,” you hadn’t had time to come up with what to say. “I am sorry for not telling you before now and if you wish that I would have never said anything… well I’m sorry for that too.” Your words were rushed together, barely making any sense.

“Just spit it out will ya?”

You physically flinch from his rashness. Simon wasn’t always this way, but the past few months it seemed he stayed irritated at you. Just the sensitivity of the subject was already difficult enough, paired with his attitude towards you. This was going to be a rough call. “Sorry..” your heart is beating so fast you are wondering if it’s making matters worse, “I just wanted to tell you-“

Pain shoots through you, what once was a small little reminder of the state your body was in began its first real shock of what was happening. You let out a gasp and small noise of discomfort. That made him stand up from the chair he was sitting in and call your name over the phone. You almost missed it, the pain causing the phone to be pulled from your face.

“Love, what is it? Are you hurt?” Simon was actually worried now. Once the pain subsides you huff a small laugh. “Well, kind of yeah but no I’m okay.”

Simon’s brows pulled together at that, he was more confused than ever. Before waiting for a response he snagged his keys from his pants as his legs carried him to the parking lot at base. “Where are you?” He all but growled.

“No, it’s okay, you don’t need to come to me. I’m okay,” you smiled to yourself. You had convinced yourself you could do this alone. Damn your weakness for even calling him to begin with. “I am about to head to the hospital.”

“What do you mean? Tell me where you are… I’m on the way.” You could hear the door to his truck slamming and the engine cutting on.

“You may not want to once I say what I have to say,” you whispered.

“I’m pregnant.”

Simon felt his blood run cold. He didn’t speak, just continued his way out of the base. Brain not keeping up with what was happening.

“I… have been pregnant. And the baby is coming. I- Our baby is coming Simon.” Your eyes squeezed shut with the confession. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears so loud you almost missed his response.

“Where are you?” He actually growled this time.

“The apartment…” you replied meekly.

You could feel another round of contractions starting up. You dropped to the floor and before allowing yourself to scream over the phone you dropped it to your lap, and road out the contraction. Once the pain eased up some you heard your name being repeated from the speaker, his voice urgently asking for a response. You picked back up the phone, “I’m sorry…” you felt tears prickling your vision.

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You hadn’t meant to keep it a secret. What started as something you happily found out turned into your best kept secret.

It was around the two year mark of you starting this relationship with Simon. You two had met and after many months of being friendly you had fallen for him first… it was quick for you to love him and you had fallen hard. Simon took a little more time to open up and things weren’t always easy, but you loved each other thoroughly.

Simon was gone on a month long mission when you started noticing something was up. You were getting queasy from random things that never had upset your stomach before. That was your first clue to get a test, so without much thought when you ran to the store for some things for dinner after work, you grabbed a pregnancy test. You got home, started working on dinner, making one of Simon’s favorites as a surprise. He was coming back for a short while before heading off for another mission and he was due home any moment. Since he hadn’t made it home yet so you figured you would bring the test into the bathroom and get it over with. Yet 5 minutes later the small white plastic showed you the truth - Positive.

You sat in your apartment’s bathroom, looking at the little plus sign. Mind reeling, a thousands thoughts flying through your head. Were you ready to become a mom? How would Simon take the news? Does he even want to be a dad? How would you balance having a baby with Simon’s work schedule?

He had knocked at the door, shaking you from your thoughts. “You alright love?” He had been in your apartment for about 10 minutes, waiting for you to leave the bathroom attached to the bedroom.

You hadn’t even noticed him coming into the apartment. Without much thought you grabbed the test, tossed it in the bin and quickly washed your hands before opening the door.

You grinned at him, “Yes of course. Sorry!”

Your arms wrapped around him instinctively as a greeting, but his body tensed instead of attempting to hug back like he usually did. You withdrew with a questioning face.

“I missed you,” you tried to adjust your face into a small smile. “Are you okay?” You questioned.

“Yeah.” Was all he offered, then he headed into the bathroom. Your eyes widened and followed his back until he shut door behind him. Definitely must not have been a great day at work. Simon doesn’t tell you much about what he does day to day, but you can’t imagine any of it is easy on him.

So without asking again, or following after him you went back to making dinner. Now your thoughts were muddled of the thoughts of parenthood, and this baby. Your face couldn’t help the small grin that popped up, a hand coming to gently rest on your stomach. By the end of cooking everything and getting plates ready you had decided you would tell Simon after dinner. Sure you only have taken the one pregnancy test, but you wanted to go ahead and give him the news. That’s when you realized he still hasn’t came from the bedroom, that used to be just yours and slowly has turned into both of yours. Now it was your turn to knock on the door to the bathroom.

“Dinner is ready… I made one of your favorites to celebrate you being home.” You couldn’t help the cheerful tone your voice held.

The door ripped open at that. His hair was still wet from his shower, he was dressed down in sweats and a black t-shirt. You smiled at him and reached a small hand out to him.

His eyes met yours for a moment before chancing a quick glance to your outstretched hand. “Not hungry.”

You were usually pretty receptive to his reactions and as much as it confused you, you dropped your hand back down to your side. “Oh okay… well I will put it in the oven to keep warm until you are,” you suggested. Your stomach was rolling, for many reasons. The news of the pregnancy, the actual sickness the pregnancy was bringing you and how Simon was acting had your nerves on edge.

“You go ahead,” his eyes didn’t quite meet yours “The crew and I have a lot to debrief on… we leave on the next mission in a few days. I think I’m going to head back to base for the night,” he bluntly stated. He gently walked past you into the room, collecting items into his duffel bag.

“Well I made dinner especially for you, I hoped we could enjoy it tog-“

“I said I wasn’t hungry.” He didn’t yell, but he definitely spoke louder to you than he typically did.

You couldn’t help the small breath of air you took in, and he rolled his eyes at that. “Please,” he said your name with a sigh. “I am not in the mood for this.”

“Okay,” you whispered. Eyes welling up with tears, but before they could fall in front of him, you turned to head back into the kitchen. You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes before they could fall as you made your way into the kitchen. You grabbed the food you had spent the last hour or so working on and dumped it into the trash. You flung the pot into the sink before reaching for the next dish to toss.

“What are you doing?” Simon grasped your arm before you could throw away the main entrée.

“I’m throwing out the food. What does it look like??” You couldn’t help the angry tone your voice took on. “I made all of this for you. And you don’t want it, so I’m getting rid of it.”

“It’s not that I don’t want it… I just-“

“You aren’t hungry,” You cut him off. “I get it.” Using your free hand to wipe a stray tear that was threatening to fall.

His eyes softened and he released your arm. “I’m sorry… yeah? You know I hate when I get back then immediately have to leave again.” Simon tried to comfort you, but it was too late. “I probably should have just stayed at the base as is… I just have a lot on my plate.”

“Yeah I got it,” you coldly replied as you sat the now cold entrée onto the counter. To know you spent all day thinking of things to make his day back special… and to hear him wish he wouldn’t have even came. Just breaks your will. You then felt tired to your bones, unwilling to argue as you decided to call it a night. As you head to your bedroom, over your shoulder you said “Tell the boys I said hi.”

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That was the last time you had seen Simon in person. A little over 7 months ago since he had stepped foot into your apartment. You had given him the silent treatment for a while. Well, if he would have had access to a phone you would have definitely given him the silent treatment.

He was gone with no way to contact him. Which you didn’t mind, initially. It had been a few weeks since Simon had left and since you found out about the pregnancy. Things were beginning to catch up and take a toll on you. From the physical aspects of being pregnant, to you being lonely with Simon being gone for so long, and work was awful. Your stomach was starting to grow, everyone around you noticing the baby bump but you never acknowledged it. You hadn’t even gotten to break the news to Simon, it didn’t feel fair to talk about the baby to random co-workers. A few doctors appointments had come and gone, confirming the pregnancy. You had decided to not find out the sex of the baby or really even look at the screen during the sonogram appointment. Just letting the doctor check on the baby’s health, that was all that mattered to you.

It’s the middle of the night, your bladder waking you. You got up and made your way to the bathroom to relieve yourself. Once you were back in bed under the covers you felt sleep pulling you back in but before you could fall asleep your phone started to vibrate. Incoming call from an unknown number. Simon

You were thinking about not answering but you decided to pick up the phone anyway.

“Hello…” you answered quietly.

“Sweetheart,” Simon sighs “I’m sorry to be calling you so late. I finally had access to a phone and I, well… missed you.”

Your lip was pulled between your teeth. You were feeling all kinds of emotions. You wanted to still be upset with him, but at this point you couldn’t even feel anything except the loneliness of life without him here.

“I miss you too,” you responded as you adjusted yourself in bed to sit up right.

“Fuck love, missed your voice.” He is talking low, probably just barely out of earshot from the guys. “Hate leaving how I did, and going this long from ya.”

“Was pretty bad Si,” you spoke honestly. “Don’t get me wrong… I know your job is insanely difficult and hard on you. I just wish sometimes you would think about what it does to me too.”

Simon sighs again, “I know… I just… I’m trying.”

And he was trying, he made that obvious to you. His communication was better than it was in the beginning. Simon is a very closed off man, and he has let you in more than he ever told himself he would allow another person in. You just have that way about you, and it drives him crazy in the best way.

“I wish I was calling with better news, it looks like it’ll be a while before I’m able to come back.”

“What is ‘a while’?” You whisper back, suddenly feeling choked up. He had already been gone for longer than usual.

“Price is thinking a couple weeks here, but we have some new intel… may keep us busy for the next couple of months, love.” Simon hated breaking this to you after staying away so long. Being with him was insanely unfair to you, but you had convinced him this was the life you wanted. You wanted him.

“Okay.” You had tears falling freely now. And you brought a hand to rest on your tummy.

“I have something to tell you,” you started.

“Hang on sweetheart.” He interrupted. You heard commotion on the other end of the phone. Then Simon’s voice was back, “I’m sorry, I have to go. When I’m back at base I’ll be able to text ya, yeah?”

“Oh… okay. Yeah.” You gave yourself a sad smile. “I love you. Stay safe.” As much as Simon needed to know about the baby… how wasn’t the time.

“Always.” And with that he hung up.

That was the last time you attempted to bring up the baby to him. You realized that Simon was going through a lot and you just could never figure out the best way to say it.

He did text you here and there, letting you know he was okay. Simon let you know when they were back at base a few days ago, with an excuse as to why he couldn’t come to your apartment. You wish that you could recall the reason, but it just seemed like maybe he didn’t want to come home to you. Simon just hadn’t been able to make the time to come see you… Until now.

Simon stood in the doorway watching your frantic form gather things from around the apartment. Shoving some things into a bag, before disappearing and returning with a baby bag that seemed to be full. That’s when your eyes connected. You felt your eyes well up with tears, oh how you missed him.

“Simon,” your lips trembling with emotion.

He honestly couldn’t place what he was feeling. Seeing you for the first time in months, and here you were, a few feet away with a hand on your pregnant belly… Belly holding /his/ child. A child he would have never known existed if you didn’t bravely call him moments ago. He ripped the balaclava off his head, showing you the true emotion of his face. One of the downsides of always wearing a mask, he can’t regulate his face well.

“Sweetheart,” Simon’s voice was almost unrecognizable. “I’m here… what do you need?”

You let a tear fall down your cheek and smiled. “I’m so happy you’re here.” You took the few steps left between you and reached in to hug him.

Although at the last moment you hesitated, unsure if he wanted the contact. Instead you let your hands awkwardly fall to your sides. Simon had never been so upset with himself. Watching you want nothing more than to hug him but withdrawing from him. You were always overly cautious of his needs, but had he ever shown you the same? You were pregnant with his child, yet you didn’t want to tell him the news, always scared you were a bother to him. Has he made you feel this way? All this time away from you… for what? He could have made the time to check in on you.

“I’m glad I’m here too, love…” his voice held a softness to it only held for you. His hand reaches out to brush softly against your arm. Softening you up to his presence. Unsure of what caused the next words to come out, Simon muttered “May I?” His eyes met yours before he glanced at your stomach.

Your heart was racing, blood pounding in your ears. “Of course Si…” and his hand immediately came to rest on your belly.

You let out a small gasp at the contact. Your hands gravitating to his ungloved hand resting on your protruding stomach. Stopping yourself an inch or two from making contact.

“Can you make me a promise?” Simon spoke softly, eyes meeting yours again.

“Anything, you know that,” you smiled at him.

“When you want to touch me, please just do it. When you want me to touch you, you tell me. If you have something you want to tell me… just say it. But especially when you need or want me here with you… you tell me love.” Simon felt the sensation of being choked up, he only hoped his voice didn’t crack. “I love you and I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you,” he whispered. He kept one hand on your stomach while the other came to grasp your face. “I am so sorry.”

You couldn’t even try to stop the tears from falling now. “It’s okay Simon… I am so glad you are here no-“ another contraction began. You grit your teeth, trying to remember the breathing you had practiced, but the pain was still there.

This is probably the biggest thing that Simon was not prepared for. Had he spent his life inflicting pain upon others? When needed, yes. How many people had he seen in distress and never felt one thing about it? Basically every time. Yet here he was watching you writhe in pain, wasn’t something he handled well.

“Jesus Christ…” he grasped onto you. Keeping you upright. “Let’s get to the hospital, yeah?”

You didn’t put up a fight, letting him help you to his truck. Before he could open the door you stopped him.

“What’s the matter?” He asked worriedly. “We can’t…” you took a deep breath before continuing. “We can’t drive the baby back in your truck. The car seat is in my car.” You avoided his eyes.

Simon felt a pang of something up his spine, similar to jealousy but close to disappointment in himself. You were completely and wholly ready to have this baby without him. He felt a huge sense of pride in you and your independence but he was also upset at himself for making you do all of this alone.

“Alright yeah, makes sense,” he kept his voice calm. Leading you to your car, asking for keys and guiding you in gently to the passenger side.

“I’m going to run backup for your things lovie… I’ll be back in a minute.” With that he was off and Simon was back in under the minute. Bags in hand, tossing them in the backseat before heading to the closest hospital.

Simon is as silent as ever. He was doing his best to drive safe, but he also had a huge sense of urgency to him. His mind couldn’t slow down and allow him to catch up with what was happening. Thoughts clouding his mind and taking up all his capacity to think.

“I’m sorry..” you started again. Breaking him of his thoughts. God how long had he been silent? “I know you’re busy and I ha-“

“Stop,” he said with a sigh.

Your eyes cut to him quickly, before returning to your lap.

“Please stop saying sorry to me,” eyes cutting to you. “I am the one who is sorry and who should be begging for your forgiveness. I can’t believe I haven’t made you understand what you are to me. I’m not upset about you not telling me, sweetheart. I’m just sad you have been through all of this alone.” He let out a dry chuckle. His hand reached out for your stomach again. “I have done nothing in this life to deserve you.” He let out a wet chuckle, “but fuck… am I glad you’re mine.”

You grinned between the tears. Your hand covered his easily now, without hesitation. The feeling of his warm hand softly brushing your stomach was something you had been longing for. “You deserve more than me, but I’m glad I’m yours too.” You let out a small wink when his eyes let yours briefly before they were back on the road in front of him.

You felt another surge of pain shooting through you. The contractions n were definitely getting more frequent. You started your breathing again, this time squeezing his hand to help take your mind off it. Once the pain subsided some you could hear Simon’s voice sweetly talking you through it.

After a couple breaths, you steadied yourself. “I found out I was pregnant the day you left, ya know… before.” You admitted. You heard his big inhale at the confession.

“The night with the… dinner?” You aren’t sure why you felt the need to clarify. It could have been a big moment to you and not to him, you suppose.

“Fuckin’ hell baby…” Simon sighed.

“I just wasn’t sure where we stood,” you gulped. “I couldn’t tell how you were feeling and I honestly don’t even know if you like kids.” You let out a dry laugh. “I had this whole plan, god it was a halfway thought out plan. We would eat dinner, celebrate you being home and I would tell you the news.” You hadn’t let go of his hand even as it fell to your lap. “But with the way everything happened I just didn’t know what to do or how to tell you… so I didn’t.” You finished with a shrug.

“I like kids,” he admitted. “In case you’re still wondering.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him for what felt like the 20th time since he arrived at your apartment.

“As for the rest… I don’t know how to explain how I behaved that night. Of course if I knew… I wouldn’t have acted like that. I shouldn’t have treated you that way. Fuck what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I’m glad you like kids.”

“Changing the subject, yeah?” You can hear his grin.

You turned a little to look at him better. “We will get through this. Will probably have to have a few talks about everything but for now. Let’s get this baby out of me.”

You can see the lights of the hospital casting over his features as he pulls into the emergency lane. With one deep breath that you two seemed to share, “It’s go time Si.”

I hope you all enjoyed this! If you would like a part 2 of the hospital and then the aftermath... feel free to let me know in a comment!

Thank you for reading 🖤

Part Two

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #reader insert #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #call of duty #pregnant reader #dad!simon

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starkowswife · 5 months

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R.C / HEADCANNONS

pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

summary: what it would be like to date THE Rafe Cameron.

a/n: first ever written work so sorry if it isn’t great! please give me feedback of what i could do better in the future. also sarah and rafe are actually quite close in this.

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, sorry if there’s errors. a bit of nsfw at the end. mentions of fighting and implied towards death but only for a little bit and not at all descriptive. let me know if there should be any others!

SFW:

- he would spoil you so much.

- he sees your shein wishlist? he’s buying it all.

- you grab a shirt to look at it when shopping with him? he’s grabbing it in your size and even checking for it in other colours.

- you could even so much as be glancing around a shop and your eyes linger a little too long on one item and he’s getting it for you.

- even when you tell him you feel bad having him spend this much money on you he’ll just laugh and say “my sweet girl deserves everything.”

- he’d drop everything for you if you needed him.

- you call him crying? he could be in the middle of an important deal and he’s leaving to come get you.

- he’d fight, and probably kill, for you.

- if a guys getting a little too close at a party and making you uncomfortable Rafe is there immediately.

- he’d pull the guy away from you and just start laying punches after punches into his face until someone just drags the other guy out of the party so it doesn’t get too out of hands.

- then he’d hug you and leave kisses on your forehead while asking if you wanna leave.

- you’d always be at his house.

- which means you’d see Wheezie a lot and she loves you and is always asking you to do things with her.

- it kind of annoys Rafe because he wants to spend every second with you and Wheezie’s ruining that.

- but he also finds it really sweet.

- you’d also be best friends with Sarah.

- as soon as her brother announced he actually is with someone and not just having flings with anyone and everyone she was so excited.

- Sarah knew you had to be amazing to make her brother settle down.

- and you and her got along instantly.

- he’d actually be very affectionate.

- always having his hands on you in one way or another.

- also because he’s very jealous he’d need everyone to know you’re his and his only.

- but he’d always reassure you, especially when overthinking.

- you’d catch him staring at you and you’d ask why, thinking maybe you have something on your face or you look bad but he’d just say, “can’t i look at my gorgeous girlfriend?”

- someone would make a comment about you two saying they’re surprised someone like you could pull someone like Rafe and he’d be furious.

- he’d deal with them and then immediately pick you up and you guys would be leaving.

- as soon as you two were alone he’d reassure you by saying something like “you’re perfect baby, they’re just jealous they don’t have what we have.”

NSFW:

- as mentioned earlier, he gets very jealous.

- and he gets jealous easily.

- so if he sees a guy checking you out while you’re in public he grabs you and puts his hands on your ass while making out with you so the boy knows your Rafe’s.

- he’d then take you home to remind you you’re his.

- or even just in the car if he really couldn’t wait.

- “you’re mine. you know that right?”

- “say it baby, say you’re only mine.”

- knowing damn well you couldn’t talk when he was thrusting into you like that.

- but you had to try anyway for him.

- he’d be big on hickeys.

- he’d like marking you so everyone knows, you are his, and he’d love when you do the same.

- if you still had your v card he’d make sure to be really nice and gentle the first few times and slowly start getting tougher and introducing you to new things.

- always down for a quickie, it doesn’t matter where you are.

- he’d seriously just love you unconditionally and everyone knows he’s whipped for you.

#rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe smut #rafe fluff #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron outerbanks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron obx #drew starkey #outer banks #obx #obx fic #obx smut #obx fluff

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winterrrnight · 28 days

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unravel

PAIRING: frat!soft!rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: rafe has had his eyes set on the girl who isn't falling for his charms the way every girl seems to do.

WARNINGS: college!au; reader is hard to get, an ambivert, reserved; rafe is just frat!rafe in the start but slowly develops into extremely soft!rafe; a lot of comfort; rafe calls reader princess; intentional lower case

EDITH SPEAKS: this was initially just a little concept on rafe pining for a hard to get reader, but it got longer than the usual word count of my concepts so it's now a little fic! i hope this is extremely comforting cause I swear we all need this 💞🥹 just wanna say I'm here for every single one of you 💗💗

please reblog if you liked reading this! feedback is always highly appreciated 🌻

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rafe’s heard it all; hot, sexy, handsome, charming, and boy, does he eat it up each time. he knows he is a 10 out of 10, and when each girl in college is always on her knees for him, it doesn’t help but only boosts his ego.

but when you come around, it is all so different.

you don’t give into his charms the way everyone else seems to give. you aren’t running after him like a lost puppy, you aren’t pining for him, and that sets rafe off.

and that’s exactly why he needs you.

he catches you any moment he can; before class, after class, in the cafeteria, in the huge lawn, outside your dorms; any moment he sees you, he’s coming over to you, and never being able to keep his mouth shut.

“so princess…”

“shut up.”

that’s basically how all your conversations go. you roll your eyes at him each time and just walk away, but he has a smirk pulling on his lips all the damn time, always walking right next to you.

it’s like he’s forgotten about all the other girls in college. the ones who are willingly ready to take him, to give him attention every second of every day; but here he wants you, who doesn’t even make eye contact with him for more than two seconds without you rolling your eyes at him.

he always looks at you as the reserved kind of person. you aren’t seen around with a big group of friends, but just two or three close ones. you aren’t always talking, but you are quite open with your close friends. it’s hard to gather much information about you from around, and he believes that if it was the other way round, information about him would be so easily accessible. oh, and it does not help that your instagram is private and you still haven’t accepted his request.

if anything, that intrigues him even more. he wants to get close to you, to find out more about you, to unravel every thread of your existence till he knows you better than you know yourself.

it’s a nice spring afternoon, and rafe had quite few classes as compared to usual. he decides to head to the library – a place whose exact location he didn’t even know until 5 months into college – to finish this goddamned essay that’s been hanging on his head for the past week now.

as he walks inside, the vexed look on his face is instantly replaced by a quite simpered one when he spots you. he’s already making his way to you, around 20 different one liners in his head he can kick start the conversation with to see that irritated look on your face which he adores with his whole heart. but the coy smile leaves just the next second when he gets a clear look at you.

you’re crying.

your head hangs low as you’re quietly sobbing so absolutely no one else can hear you; but then the library is quite empty. your eyes are shut tight as tears roll down your hot cheeks, and rafe feels his heart physically break.

break in such a way that if you hear carefully, you can hear it shattering.

a frown etches his lips and a deep furrow forms in his brows as he slowly makes his way to you.

“princess…” he mutters softly, keeping a gentle hand on your shoulder. you’re startled at the sudden touch which causes you to gasp and makes you look up, your blurry eyes coming in contact with his warm, blue ones.

“not now rafe…” you whisper, shifting your shoulder which causes rafe’s hand to drop. you move a hand to your face to wipe off your tears, sniffling silently.

“hey talk to me…” he whispers softly, sitting down in the empty chair next to you. he doesn’t touch you in any way, just keeps a soft gaze at you and notices how you still keep your head down, trying your best to not sob as much as you were earlier. he makes a quick note of how your fingers are pulling onto each other, pinching and squeezing the flesh of them.

rafe knows for sure he’s never experienced anything sadder than watching tears roll down your pretty face. he knows it’s the last thing he wants to see. and he knows he wants to be the one who makes sure a tear never falls down your face ever again.

“listen princess…” he whispers, leaning just a bit closer to you, “you can trust me okay? you really can,” he gently places a hand over your snaked fingers, causing you to stop your fidgeting. his hand is warm, and as he gently caresses the back of your hand with his thumb, you can slowly feel your tears dying down.

rafe gently holds one of your hand and brings it up to his chest, placing it right above his heart. you look up to him, your glassy eyes slightly widened at his action. “just feel it okay?” he whispers. “try to match your breathing with it.” you feel the rhythmic thumping of his heart under your palm, and your expression softens as your eyes flutter shut, your breathing starting to match with his.

“good… good…” he whispers gently, moving his other hand to gently wipe your cheeks. his breath gets caught in his throat when he sees you don’t move away, but ever so subtly lean more into his touch.

“talk whenever you feel like, I’m not putting you in any hurry…” he mumbles, his thumb now gently skimming your cheek in a periodic manner, his palm resting against your cheek, and your face nuzzling against the warmth of his hand.

you nod at his words, just letting his soothing words, touch and presence take all over your senses, before you slowly collect your thoughts to talk to him.

if rafe would’ve earlier known that the way to your heart wasn’t dropping a snarky one liner each time he sees you, but to provide you a safe and comforting space to open up in, he would’ve done it way sooner.

because he’s finally doing what he wanted.

unraveling every thread of your existence till he knows you better than you know yourself.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @shores-kayla @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 months

Text

enter sandman - m. murdock

a/n: see me personally? never seeing the pearly gates. never ever. not after this one . enjoy. feedback always appreciated ! <3 warnings: guys... where do i fucking start. SMUT. SMUT!!!! GRAPHIC PORN!!!! no plot!!!! degradation!!! dumbification!!!! praise!!!! oral!!! (m recieving) cursing!!!! nicknames!!!! reader is female and has female parts and she/her pronouns!!!!! matt is cocky, mean!dom!matt, the ending is kind of cute, lots of inappropriate use of matts senses, uhhh guys let me know if i missed any because... wow. word count: 4.2k summary: you have a hard time sleeping. the devil has a few games in mind to tire you out. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: enter sandman - metallica "exit light/enter night/take my hand/we're off to never-never land"

You have a horrible habit. Okay, you wouldn’t really consider it to be a habit per say, but you’re not proud of it. You will for it to end.

You can never seem to fall asleep. Staying asleep is easy, but getting there is a problem. Your mind is always racing, which causes you to spiral into a whirlpool of anxieties. You’re too busy thinking about your job, or what you’ll eat tomorrow, or when you’ll be doing your next load of laundry.

But most of all, what keeps you up at night is worrying about the devil. And not in the sense that you’re a holy catholic who wants to repent for her sins, either. Your worry for the devil comes because you’re hopelessly in love with him.

And you worry that one day he will come home damaged beyond repair. Maybe one day he will not come home at all, and you’ll have to hear about it on the news the next morning. It’s a hellish existence, loving the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but you make do.

Like tonight—You had baked brownies earlier in the night, and then read your book for the better part of the night. You won’t allow yourself to fall asleep because the possibility of seeing him overwhelms you. But as the hours pass, you begin to lose hope.

And just as you you’re beginning to accept that he won’t be coming to see you and you’re really letting yourself drift, you feel a warm hand on your neck. He’s taken his gloves off tonight. You consider yourself blessed.

“Hi,” You mumble softly, your brain going all fuzzy with even just that bit of contact. You’ve missed him. “Was beginning to think you’d never show.”

But your devil is in no mood for simple pleasantries tonight.

“What have I told you about waiting up for me?”

“Not to?”

“I said,” His hand moves from its gentle place against your neck to grip your chin, “As long as you leave the window open I’ll know to just come in and take what I need.”

Your face flushes, and he grins, because he can tell that he’s making you flustered.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“No one’s laughing at you, sweetheart.” He hums.

“You are.” He shrugs gently. He’s wearing his black suit tonight, and it’s making you feel… a lot of things.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Damn him.

“Nothing!”

He leans forward and kisses you softly, and you lean up to try and kiss him further, but he pulls away, his grip returning to your chin, to keep you just centimeters away. The devil is an expert at reading you, despite his lack of sight. He has developed the habit of studying you, and knows that as of late, you’re not allowing yourself the pleasure of sleeping. He knows it’s because you’re so anxious and worried about every little thing, so tonight.. He intends to fix it. Or at least, maybe come up with a temporary solution.

“Liar.” He whispers and moves away further. “I’m not going to touch you until you tell me.”

Your devil is many things, but he does not bluff. He has this will of steel.

“I prefer it when you wear the black suit,” You tell him, “It’s not very protective, I know. But you look good in it.”

He makes a noise of realization, before moving his hand to slip under the hem of your shirt, resting his hand on your stomach. You shiver a bit, his hand warm against your skin. That’s what you get for wearing a tee shirt and shorts to bed every night, he’d tell you.

“That’s my smart girl.” Your heart flutters. “Mm, you really like that huh?”

“You’re awful.” You always pretend to hate how he reads you, but secretly, although you suspect he knows it, you love that someone knows you so well. He grins and his hands move again, this time picking you up into his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. “Hey! Not cool, we talked about picking up when we have no warning—” You cut yourself off with a grunt when he tosses you onto the bed.

“Shut up.”

He hears no objections.

Just as quickly as you’re thrown on the bed, he is above you, mask still on, kissing your neck.

“Wanna play a game, sweetheart?” He asks, hands on your hips, his fingers creeping up the hem of your shirt. You shiver again, and he just grins “You can answer.”

“Sure. I like games.” Your voice is meek, too busy enjoying all the contact with him. He hums softly.

“I know you do, and you’re just so good at them.” You grin against his skin as he kisses your cheek. “See that? That’s what I want to know.” You’re a bit lost.

“Know what?”

“I want to know what turns you on more— praising you or degrading you.”

What a fun game to play with a human lie detector.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, let’s play.” You confirm. He kisses you quickly.

“Good girl.” You hum softly, but it isn’t quite what he’s looking for. It’s good, don’t get him wrong, but he’s after more. “Tell me about your day, baby.” He continues to plant kisses along your skin. You know this isn’t a request but rather a requirement of the game.

“Well, I had work today, then I had to stop at the grocery store. I made dinner and—” You’re cut off by a kiss to a sensitive spot on your neck, because you can’t help but let out a gasp of pleasure.

“What? A few kisses and you’re already turning dumb for me?” You shudder softly, your heartbeat steadily increasing. The deep cadence of his voice paired with his words make you want to just melt. “Oh, there she is..”

He lets go of your arms for just a moment to slip your shirt off. Then, your hands are back above your head, held down by his grip. He moves on from your neck and begins to kiss down.

“I like this game.” You manage out, and he chuckles.

“I know you do. You know how?”

You think about it for a moment before you answer. You want to be right.

“You can hear my heartbeat?”

“And I can smell you. You like this a lot. More than you like me?” He continues to kiss down your torso.

You don’t answer for a second. He bites your skin gently, prompting you to answer.

“No.” You answer, “No, I don’t like anything.. anyone more than you.”

He kisses the spot where he bit softly.

“Even smart girls need to be reminded sometimes.” Is all he says before he continues to kiss you. You try to hide it, try to hide your reaction to the words, but he grins against your skin.

“Matt..” you groan out softly because his kisses have stopped.

“What?”

“Why’d you stop?” You whined.

“You’re my smart girl, why don’t you tell me?” You pause, biting your lip. “Is it because you can’t? Do you like being dumb for me, smart girl?” You want to defend yourself, but he bites your skin again.

“Yes!” you respond, and he does the same thing he did before—He kisses where he bit.

“Good girl.” He responds. “I like making you dumb just from a few kisses anyways.” He tells you, finally reaching your stomach with his kisses. “I love my dumb little smart girl.” The cadence he has to his voice makes you whine again. He knows every part of you, even the parts you never wanted to tell him about. He’s just too observant. “I love that despite how well behaved and good you are, you’re dumb enough to be talked down to like this, by some strange man who just crawled through your window.”

You answer before you can think about it. You’re smart enough to know that he’s at least half right.

“You’re not just anyone, you’re my Matt.”

“Your Matt?” He hums. “Your Matt, My ditzy smart girl.” He grins, before placing one last kiss right above the waistline of your shorts.

He moves so he can kiss your lips again, kissing you quick before pulling off his mask so you can see his face. He has a cut on his forehead and a bruise forming on his cheek. It’s clear he had a good night though, or else this wouldn’t be happening.

“Your face..” You frown, concern in your voice.

“Observant and smart?” He teases, kissing your forehead. “What happened to wanting to be dumb for me?”

You’re almost embarrassed of it now.

“You’re being mean.” You say quietly.

“Mean? Me? To my best girl?” He kisses you quickly again. “Never.” He hums. One of his hands goes down to your thigh, his fingertips inching up.

“Never.” You echo.

“What do you say, smart girl?” He asks, “Wanna play a few more games? See just how desperate I can make you?”

You huff at his words, your brain short circuiting to the point where you speak before you can really think.

“I just want you to fuck me!”

He stops just as he’s about to pull off your shorts and slithers back up so the pair of you are face to face.

“First of all,” he places a kiss to your lips gently, “You are not in a position to be making demands, pretty girl. Second,” He kisses you again, “Such a foul mouth for such a dumb baby,” You let off a soft whine, and he has the audacity to mock your whine, “I know, it’s not much of a lecture when you like when I talk to you like this,” He hums. “And third, I know you’re smarter than to be a brat.” He says gently, kissing you again.

“I’m not a brat.” You whine, and again, he mocks you before devolving into a deep chuckle, leaning in to kiss you.

“I love you.” He says, with a grin on his face.

He’s gentle with you for a few moments, softer. You decide that now is your chance, and if you don’t act now, you’ll spend the rest of your night under his thumb. So, you flip over and have him under you, as you sit on his lower stomach. His hands come up to the back of your thighs.

“I’ve got you now, Devil.” You grin, leaning in to kiss him. But before you can, he’s flipping you back over, keeping you pinned by your legs.

“Brat.” he accuses, leaning in to kiss you again. You huff. “Easy, pretty girl, your attitude is getting the best of you.”

You frown and turn your head when he goes to kiss you.

“Tell me I’m not a brat and I’ll kiss you.” You demand, and he grins, but this time it isn’t soft. It’s almost wicked. He grabs your chin roughly and tilts your head towards him, before kissing you roughly.

“What did I tell you?” he asks. “Come on, smart girl, I know you remember.”

“That I was in no position to make demands?”

“That’s right.” He coos, “Now, baby, do you want to hear what I had planned for you tonight?”

You must admit, you’re very curious.

“Sure, Matty.” His grin widens.

“Well, I was planning on playing this little game with you, then eating you out until your thighs are shaking,” You let out a whine, but he just shushes you softly, “Sh, sh, sh… You wanted to hear, so listen.” He hums. “Then, I was going to fuck you until you were full of my cum.” He tells you.

Then, he lets out a disappointed sigh.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That was what I was planning on, but because you decided to be a brat, I have a new plan.”

“I liked that plan so much though..”

“I know, Sweetheart, me too.. But you’re the one who ruined it.” He reminded, leaning in, and biting your jaw between his fingers. His hand positioning is not exactly choking, but the grip is tight enough to leave marks. He feels you grind your hips up a bit, and chuckles again. “Smart girl, already figuring out what’s next.”

You tilt your head in confusion, but before you know it, he’s repositioning you so you’re in his lap at the edge of the bed. He pats your thigh gently.

“Get up for me, Honey. Then you got to take your shorts off for me.” You do as you’re told, no longer interested in fucking up his plans. Then, he pulls you back onto his lap, and he hums gently. You decide to take a risk and bring your hands up to his jaw, and then up towards his mask.

“Please?” You ask gently. “Wanna see you..” He nods softly, letting you pull off his mask, as his head tilts to the side to kiss your palm.

“You remember who’s in charge, right, sweetheart?”

“You, devil.”

“That’s right, angel.” He praises, “And that’s why you’re going to ride my thigh.” You let out a soft whine, and he shakes his head, “No, no whining from you, sweet girl. You wanted to be a brat, so you gotta reap what you sew.”

He holds your hips as you begin to grind against his thigh, and Matt focuses on the way your breathing hitches as you rub against his thigh. Your hands grip his shoulders as he begins to kiss your neck again.

Your skin burns with need, and your hips roll faster as your breath speeds up, and slowly, minute by minute, you’re edging closer to your release. But he knows you’re close to coming undone not only because of how your skin is hot, and your breath is airy, but because you’re making such a mess.

You’re definitely staining his pant leg with your wetness, because after his insatiable teasing, you’re just desperate for him, and oh so sensitive. The speed of your grinding increases, and then, because he wants to see you break, he starts to bounce his leg up so that in addition to your grinding, it’s overwhelming you.

“Matt,” you say, breathlessly. “Matt, please..”

“Please what, smart girl? What do you want?” He’s really going to make you ask for it. This is all part of his game.

“Please..” You start, resting your head on his shoulder. “Please, can I come?”

“What was that, baby? I didn’t hear you.”

Oh, now he’s being a fucking dick. You know he can hear you, with his damned super senses. Nonetheless, you pick your head up and manage to get it out.

“Please let me come,” You beg, and he laughs.

“You know what’s funny, baby?” You let out a whine. “You’re so smart, always holding the world on your shoulders, and yet.. A little bit of teasing and riding my thigh, and you can barely get a sentence out.. You’re being so good for me, baby. So good at following orders,” He bites your neck. “So, go ahead and come for me, sweet girl.”

As soon as those words leave his lips, you’re letting go, the tight knot in your stomach finally snapping. You moan into his ear, his hands on your side to keep you stable as you come undone. He keeps bouncing his leg to have you ride out your high as your legs begin to shake. You’re making all of these pretty noises for him, and the smell of your juices are overwhelming for him.

“Such a good girl for me,” he hums, kissing you softly. He’s back to being rather gentle with you. But his cock is incredibly hard against his pants, and he needs to feel you clench around him. “Can my pretty baby ride my cock?” You’re shaking but you nod gently.

He knows you’re verging on the edge of being unable to do much else, but he wants to see how far he can push you. So, he pats your leg again and you stand up. His hands come up to undo your bra and pull off your panties.

He holds them in his hands for a moment, breathing in deeply as your scent continues to overwhelm him. He wastes no more time, pulling off his shirt and then starting to unbuckle his black pants. On instinct, you’re on your knees, with this.. primal desire to suck him off.

He takes a deep breath, his hand going to your hair and pushing your hair from your face. You lean into his touch, smiling softly up at him. He knows how much you like just thoughtless sex—You value long, intimate nights too, but after a long week, you need to shut off your brain and he needs to take control.

“Wanna suck my cock first, baby? You’re so good for me..” He says softly, slipping down his boxers.

“Just wanna be good for you,” You hum, eying his glistening hardness. You can’t deny that he looks truly crafted by the hands of God—Most of his body is glistening with sweat, cock glistening with precum. He is heavenly and the only thing you’ll ever want to worship.

“You’re so good for me. My dumb little smart girl.” The name form earlier makes you weak, as you lean in and begin to lick his tip. His hand grips your hair as he inhales sharply. “Careful, sweetheart.” He tells you, beginning to guide you in sucking him dry.

His hand guides you as your head bobs against his cock, the taste of him turning your brain further into mush. He makes sure to guide you at a steady pace, moaning out praise, and occasionally degradation.

“So fucking good for me,” He gasps out, “My good little girl.. Sucking my cock so good—Ah, fuck..” He gasps as you quicken your pace. “Sucking me like the little slut you are..” You moan against cock at that, and he gasps, before it devolves into a low chuckle. “And you like it, too.. Being called my little slut.. Good little slut, just for me.. Got you trained so well..” He holds on for a few more moments before he comes into your mouth, panting softly.

His cum dribbles down your chin as you swallow most of it, so his hand comes up to your chin to gently wipe the dribble off before he slips his thumb into your mouth.

“Every last drop for me, angel.” He requests. You happily suck on his thumb for a few moments while he recovers. Then, he leans down and picks you up, resting you on the bed again. “Now you’re gonna ride me, right, pretty?”

“Mhm..” You smile, and as soon as he lays back on the bed, you’re on top of him. His cock slides against your folds and you whine a bit, just desperate for the feeling of him filling you up. “You know how badly I want your cock..” He grins at this.

“You have it, angel. Just gotta ride me, okay?” You hum in response. You slowly lower yourself down onto his cock, taking a few minutes to adjust to the size of him. But your slow pace is not quick enough for Matt, whose hands find your hips (for the millionth time tonight) and quickly slides his entire length into you.

You moan loudly, a feeling of pain and pleasure blurring together as he hits just the right spot to make you see stars.

“Matt, fuck,” You whine, wanting to take a second to catch your breath.

“Color?” It’s a safe word system—He knows he might have taken it a tad too far, pushing into you like that.

“Green,” You promise.

“Okay, good.” He leans up and kisses your forehead gently, a sign of the gentleness that resides in his demeanor despite just how into his dominate behavior you are. He begins to roll his hips, and revels in the sound of the pretty screams coming out of your mouth as he begins to pound into you. “I’ve got you fucked dumb, baby? Can’t even ride my cock properly?” He asks, pulling you in to kiss your skin.

“No,” You protest, “I can do it,” It comes out whinier than you wanted it to—Much whinier, but you can’t deny that he’s wrong about that first part. Your brain is blurry in the best way. He hums in approval before gently pushing you away from his lips.

“Prove it, then.” He demands, and his hips are no longer bucking into you. Instead, you shakily begin to bounce against his cock, using his moans and gasps as guidance. His hands grip your thighs as you ride him. “There you go, angel. It’s not too much for you, right?” He hums.

“No!” You protest again, “No, Sir, I can take it,” He grins at the slip of the title. He swats the side of your thigh, rubbing it softly after you yelp, but it quickens your pace. His brain is beginning to fog too, so he knows he wants to get a few more comments out.

“Fucking liar,” he laughs, “Even when your.. fuck..” He gasps, the feeling of you clenching around him overwhelming him. “When you’re bouncing on my cock and moaning for me, you’re still lying..” His one hand travels to play with your clit, rubbing small circles into it. “So,” He takes a deep breath, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder, before picking his head back up. “I’ll ask you again.. Is it too much for you, my ditzy girl?”

Tears prick your eyes, as you will your brain to come up with a comprehensive answer.

“Yes!” You admit, “it’s too much,” You pant, but because you don’t say ‘red’ he keeps going.

“Aw, I know, honey,” He plants a soft kiss to your lips, the hand that isn’t rubbing circles into your clit coming up to brush sweaty hair from your face. “But you can take it. Come on, sweet thing, I know..” He hums. “Come for me, baby..”

And you do—You come hard, your vision going white for a fraction of a second as you let out these angelic noises. He doesn’t give a damn about noise complaints right now, all he can focus on is the smell of your sweat, your cum, and your pretty little noises.

You continue to rock your hips, wanting to feel his cum fill you up. And after a few more minutes, your wish comes true, as he grips your hip tightly with one hand as he comes deep inside you, as you roll your hips just a few more times, riding the last waves of a euphoric high.

His chest is heaving as you slump down against his chest. The pair of you are sweating, but he still looks so beautiful like this. His cock still fills you, his cum deep within you. His hand gently runs up and down your back,

“How’s my sweet girl doing..?” He’s afraid he went too far with you, hoping his words didn’t push you into a bad headspace. It’s happened before, where you just needed time to come back to reality. But tonight, you’re exhausted in a whole new way. You’re happy that you’ll actually be able to sleep.

“I’m good,” You promise. You’re sweaty, out of breath and completely fucked out of your mind.

He takes your jaw in his hand and tilts your head up so you’re looking in his general direction.

“You know I don’t really think you’re dumb, right?” He just needs to make sure.

“I know,” You giggle, “But it’s pretty hot in the moment. Besides, you took care of me.”

He grins and kisses your forehead.

“I’ll always take care of you.” He promises. You know he means it, too. Your Matty, always taking care of you. “You know you don’t need to worry about everything, right? You don’t have to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“I know,” You start, “But you’re always so busy with the firm, and being Daredevil, and—” He hushes you softly.

“I am never too busy for you.” He says gently. “I know I can’t do your job for you, but I can be more careful and help with dinner, you know.” He just wants you to be less stressed all the time, the hypocrite.

“Okay.” You say gently. “Thank you, Matt.” He holds you close and places a soft kiss to your head.

“You’re still shaking,” He says gently, “But you need to shower.” He says softly, moving now so that he can carry you to your bathroom. You whine at the feeling of emptiness you’re left with when he slides out of you, and he just laughs. “I know, Baby, I know.”

Matt is just a general fan of taking care of you. Even when you’re fucked out of your mind like you are right now. You love that about him.

You love that the devil is so devoted to you. It stirs something deep inside you that you can’t quite voice. Matt knows it, too.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil fic #daredevil #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock smut #dom!matt murdock #marvel smut #rough kink #never seeing the pearly gates #no plot

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alicerosejensen · 5 months

Text

Something about sin. Pt.1

Synopsis: Leon is ready to rip all these damn feelings out of himself and tell himself over and over again that he needs a good fuck. You're too young and too cute for him. Leon knows that he shouldn't even touch you, but then why are you tearing all the sinful essence out of him?

Warning: no erotica but it is mentioned; Older!Leon; Innocent Reader; Fem/reader; age difference; Leon is tormented by his conscience; Old man/young girl; Mentions of sex; in fact (in this chapter) the reader does not view Leon as a love/sexual interest; The reader is the daughter of another DSO agent.

A/N: I apologize for any mistakes. I really like the idea of dark Leon, but I don’t want to make him look like a bastard).

Feedback is welcome. If you want to point out mistakes or scold me, please do so in a gentle manner.

Part 2

This was wrong...

But 'Wrong' is not the word that could describe how he feels every time he sees you. One slightest appearance and Leon immediately feels like Humbert from Nabokov’s novel “Lolita,” who ruined the life of a little girl, well, the only difference is that you seem to be 19-20 years old, and not 14. Actually, it’s already wrong to want you, given that huge fact that you...don’t give him any reason.

You don't wag your pretty ass in front of him, you don't wear revealing clothes, and damn you're a victim of his sinful thoughts! When the fuck did this start?

The day he saw you might have been the right answer. This was the day when his colleague, the only one in the DSO besides Hannigan and Helena, sympathized with him and believed that what was standing in front of him was not a cold-blooded killer of the president, but the same Leon who would rather take a bullet and give his life than kill the one he was supposed to protect. The clarification of all the circumstances and the justification of his innocence dragged on for a long time, maybe that’s why your father then simply wanted to show an act of friendship and support by inviting him to a family dinner? Returning back, Leon thinks that it would be better if he went through hell again.

Leon immediately realized that the dinner was arranged primarily for him. Fried chicken with sides, a light salad, your mom made appetizers and even made a casserole. One is too many for him. The icing on the cake was when your father opened an expensive bottle of wine. He immediately felt awkward about this, after all, who was he to be bothered with so much, but you...

"Mr. Kennedy, what do you want? Maybe a salad? The thin sound of your voice almost made him feel weak. Your beautiful hands held the salad bowl, and almost as if on cue, you were ready to fill his plate with whatever he wanted. And those doe eyes looked at him so sweetly.

Leon could have sworn that at that moment some kind of blessing...or curse came down to him. He doesn't even remember what you were wearing. Some kind of brown blouse with jeans? He didn’t even pay attention to it, his eyes were completely focused on your pretty face. It was rubbish. You yourself were old enough to be his daughter and, as was said earlier, you didn’t even give him a hint to think that you were not indifferent to him. Actually, at dinner, when you were sitting between your parents opposite him, Leon saw how uncomfortable you were. You ate almost nothing and didn’t say anything, and an hour later you ran upstairs to your room, citing the fact that you hadn’t finished some task yet.

And your father quickly let you go, so you quickly jumped up the stairs like a rabbit, running away from his insidious gaze.

Maybe he just needed to let off some steam, he decided. In fact, it is not very often that there are women in his house who can spend at least a night with him. Last time it was Ada, and sex with her was too rough and fast. He cum almost as soon as she found herself in his arms, and for some reason Leon at that moment was not thinking about her, but about how it would anger Simmons, who believed that Kennedy was not worthy of her. However, it was true.

It seems like it's starting to become a habit, wanting women he doesn't deserve. At least Ada herself comes to him and Leon knows that she will not demand anything from him, they have never even had dinner together, and what did they do together besides sex, battles and flirting? That's right, nothing. But he has even less interaction with you.

Ada's black hair is too short, unlike yours, which could fall all over him if you were sleeping on his chest in this bed right now. But Ada never laid her head on his chest and always left unnoticed, leaving behind a barely perceptible trail of perfume. You wouldn't have left, Leon thinks, looking at the ceiling, ignoring the brown gaze of the woman he's been crazy about for so many years. Why is he comparing you and Ada at all? Two women who don't look like each other at all, which makes damn sense. You don't have to be like this! Your father would rather put his neck under the axe than allow his daughter to serve in the DSO or any other service, but in any case, you do not aspire there.

As a result, a woman will always understand when someone else settles in her man's head and Ada just smiles slyly moving closer to him, but all Leon hears is the rustle of a blanket.

"Well, who is she?"

As always, there was no hint of jealousy. Ada is the epitome of calm and composure, but Leon really doesn't know what to answer her.

After all, you are nobody and at the same time you have planted strong roots in his head.

"She?"

He pretends not to understand her, but Ada has long figured him out. For her, he will always remain a rookie cop.

"Yes." She still smiles, resting her head on her hand while lying on her side, "Who is this 'Jolene' What took my puppy away from me?"

Leon grins, but at the same time he feels an unpleasant ache in his chest from her words. Puppy... of course, he remained that way, and Ada was good at getting to the bottom of it, and yet she did not say that he was her lover, because there is no love between them as such.

"There is no 'Jolene' in my life and it is unlikely that there will be," he said wearily, reaching out to hug her, but contrary to expectation, he did not feel the desired warmth, and the itch inside grew like a wild beast intending to get only one thing - you.

In the morning, Ada disappeared as usual, and Leon was not even surprised. But instead of a paper airplane with a lipstick imprint on the kitchen table, he found a small note, folded in half, where only one thing was written: “I think you really need a family. You should think about it."

Maybe Ada really was right, but if she knew your age, she would obviously look at him with bewilderment, thinking that somewhere on the mission he was hit hard on the head. On the other hand, maybe she would have sarcastically joked that the older a man gets, the more he wants to have a young girlfriend instead of the old one, although he wouldn’t dare call Ada old.

Besides, you were supposed to remain only in his head and Leon could only hope that one day he would simply forget about you. For example, fucking with a random girl from a bar, but bad luck, against his own will, closing his eyes, Leon still wanted you. As if you were the one clinging to his back with your nails, leaving bloody streaks marking him and screaming his name. Complete crap.

You live your quiet life, not knowing what a zombie is, in complete material wealth and parental love. When your second meeting with Leon happens, he sees that you are dressed in some kind of wide sundress and are trying to drag something heavy alone, although dad strictly ordered you not to do this, but you, as a caring daughter, did not listen to him because wanted your father to do something other than hard work instead of carrying those heavy boxes out of the barn. The fact that you yourself were barely coping, not very successfully, was ignored by you.

Leon couldn't look at it calmly. He himself told you twice to leave the boxes, but you just snorted offended at him.

"Spoiled girl"

You want to prove something to someone, although this will most likely harm your health and force your father to fork out for doctors and medicine, so Leon, not paying attention to your snorting face, took the load from you and carried it into the house, leaving you with only light boxes.

In fact, no matter how hard Leon tries to convince himself that he just needs a break, your game keeps cutting him like a knife. If he were 21 years old again and he could get to know you before Raccoon, you could hum beautiful lyrical poems about how a boy fell in love with a girl and the whole world around him changed. As if you could be those two stupid lovers who burn alive in their love until finally they become disgusted with each other, although more and more often Leon realizes that in his loyalty and devotion only he would disgust you, not you from him. He would be your devoted puppy, as he has always been for Ada.

You would be everything to him.

Or already?

Is it right to look at a young girl like that when he is almost an old man himself? Why don't you have some annoying boyfriend with whom you can constantly text and chat on the phone thinking that this is the love of your life? And why can't he just throw you out of his head?!

"Mr. Kennedy" the way his last name comes off your tongue makes him almost rush to you and take you somewhere far away where no one would find you. However, Leon is disgusted by the idea that he will be the cause of fear and tears of an innocent girl who is completely innocent of what is happening in his unhealthy head. To tell the truth, it's not even lust… No, of course he feels physically attracted, but first there is some kind of dog instinct maturing inside to protect you from EVERYTHING and EVERYONE.

Then you started awkwardly calling his name and he just became Leon, always smiling when you ask him for something or just out of politeness ask how he is, whereas in fact you don't really care what's going on in his life. At least that's what he thinks, not really knowing what thoughts are going through your head.

Leon can't possibly know that you want someone older. Just a little colder so that you can become someone's secret, because even though you're young, you're of age. And yet you're watching these weird love movies that Leon thinks are sweeter than the cheapest chocolate and probably the books on the shelves have similar plots. A love to fight for. Disgusting rubbish, really.

But your smile is getting softer and Leon feels like he's giving up.

But Ada really understands that she is finished. Your beauty is incomparable, and even though she smiles in Leon's face, her heart also breaks apart when he says another woman's name in a dream. Huh, women…girls. How easily were you able to get hold of someone she's been involved with for so long.

In fact, it's a shame and Ada also understands that the years of youth are merciful to you, unlike her, and in fact you grabbed Leon's leash and there's no point in begging to find another man. Besides, Leon himself has always been eager for normality, for what he can build with an ordinary civilian girl. You will be a faithful girl to him, and he will be yours.

Someone else always comes. Younger and more beautiful. In Leon's case, meeting someone like you was also a well-deserved reward, so their nights are becoming increasingly rare and have long lost their passion. The only thing Ada doesn't understand is why you won't pull the leash on yourself. However, this question quickly disappears when she finds out that Leon stubbornly drowns his feelings in whiskey, in her and other women, who, though few, still have them. And then, like a faithful dog, he runs up to you just to wag his tail at the sight of you.

In the end, Ada doesn't even back down, but just waits for Leon to draw a line between them that can no longer be crossed. And waiting for you to lie on these soft pillows instead of her, like his beloved princess, or climb onto his lap and his lips will leave kisses on your neck. Leon deserves you. He deserves his share of happiness in a world where the government has turned him into a perfect weapon against bioterrorism.

Leon's touch is becoming more and more relaxed and you are not afraid of his wide chest, given your size difference. He could have easily swatted you, but for God's sake, Leon S Kennedy would rather put a bullet in their brains than hurt you. You hug him, listening to the pounding in your chest when he gives you an obscenely expensive Christmas present and drinks hot chocolate with you. No, Leon likes sweets, but in moderation. All those bright ribbons, the Christmas tree… not for him, but if you were in his house now, he would decorate his apartment for you and then hug you for several hours, nuzzling your head hoping that his phone would remain quiet.

Leon wants to put you in his bed, he's even ready to be your sugar daddy and get punched in the face by your dad knowing that you're going to grab onto him, but he just wants you. Like a stupid old dog who wants to be petted by a new owner. And Leon is sure that he will die of longing if you don't do it. The fact that you still don't have a boyfriend is just comforting, but anxiety grows when your father tells him that he's worried that his beloved daughter isn't interested in boys her own age.

"Anyone older?" your father says rhetorically while helping Leon fix his bike, "Buddy, I don't want an old man like you or me to become my son-in-law."

"But this way you'll have something to talk about," Leon grins, feeling that he has everything to step on the gas.

And he will take the risk again, even if it means a broken nose.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon resident evil #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil leon #older leon kennedy #Older!Leon s Kennedy

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maxtermind · 10 days

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HEYYY!!! I’ve been looking at smut prompts all day and my brain is packed w fic ideas. May i request a mv1 fic with prompts “no underwear?”, “did you wear this just for me?” and “dont worry about the damn clothes, i’ll just buy you new ones” with spanish!reader and kind of like friends w tension vibes???

i want you all to myself

★ : feat :: max verstappen x reader ★ : genre :: mature ★ : word count :: 800 ★ : a/n :: this is not a tease, i genuinely don't think i can write good smut. but tension and yearning? hell yeah! not specifically spanish!reader because i wasn't sure what you wanted me to add for that. thanks for the request love, feedback is always appreciated :)

The air crackled with tension as you stood face to face with Max, his gaze intense, almost palpable against your skin. Your heart raced with anticipation, every nerve on edge, as you waited for him to speak.

Max broke the silence, his voice teasing yet laced with an unmistakable desire that sent shivers down your spine. ”No underwear?” he hissed, his tone suggestive, his eyes lingering on you with a mix of amusement and something deeper.

”Oh.” You taunted, reveling in the way he struggled to maintain his composure. A coy smile playing on your lips as you watched his face flush and his hands clench tightly. ”Don't hold back on my account.”

You forced a casual smile, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him.

His breath caught in his throat as he struggled to find words, his eyes never leaving yours. ”Did you wear this just for me, darling?” Max's voice wavered slightly, betraying the intensity of his longing as he shamelessly eyed you.

Your lips curved into a smirk as you closed the distance, his eyes never leaving yours. ”Maybe I did,” you admitted, keeping your voice low, delighted to see the effect that had on Max.

Max groaned before reaching forward for the fabric of your dress, his fingers tightening around it as he pulled you closer. He looked at you as if he was mad as to why you were still not losing your sanity like he was.

Not knowing that the only reason you had pulled this stunt was because your patience had run dry.

The tension between you was palpable, a silent dance of desire and uncertainty as you stood locked in a silent exchange, each daring the other to make a move. That was before he aimlessly pushed forward and the sound of your poor dress echoed in the silence.

You gasped and tried to pry away but Max instead pulled you closer, resting his forehead on yours. His skin flushed as he sighed to stay calm and get himself together.

”Don't worry about the damn clothes,” Max grunted, his voice sending a rush of heat through your veins. Frustratingly pulling the torn material down your body in a frantic manner. ”I'll just buy you new ones.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a surge of insecurity washing over you, making you hold his hands under yours, not letting him see you yet. ”You'll buy me new ones, huh?”

Before you could carry on, your lips met in a heated kiss, so hard that the back of your neck, from where he grabbed you, pulsed. However, it had such a good effect making your legs shudder as ou sighed against his mouth.

Max was panting as he hurriedly tried to swallow all of your breaths and it made so much sense. As your lips moved together, you realized how much sense you guys made, how well you fit together.

Even as you surrendered to the passion, a nagging fear lingered in the back of your mind. It felt so insatiably good but you knew you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you were to just ruin all this for a sultry desperate explosion. When it was painfully obvious that you ached for more

”I don't wanna do this just for one night,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with uncertainty. ”I want us to stay...” ‘Friends,’ would’ve been a lie so for the lack of a better term, you refrained from putting any labels.

Max pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours with a depth that took your breath away. ”I'm not going anywhere,” he assured you, his voice soft but firm. ”I wish I could wait, but baby, I- I want more, right now. I want you.”

Relief flooded through you at his words, comically short lived, because not even a second later, it got mingled with the desire that burned hot and fierce within you. ”I want you too,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you melted into his embrace. ”Really badly.”

Max pulled you in for another kiss and you almost lost it on the spot when he smirked against your mouth.

”You’re gonna ruin everyone else for me, huh?” He laughed in disbelief and if you weren’t as overwhelmed as you were, you might have scoffed but instead you squeezed his body under your palms.

Max’s eyes dilating as soon as you said your next words as you pushed the flimsy material off your body.

”You already have.”

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

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sinsandsweetness · 4 months

Text

cw- smutty stuff, free use concept but very much consensual (Rick x reader mostly but all of the boys x reader mentioned too)

note- small blurb that’s totally not proofread, and will probably edit at another time. haven’t written in a few weeks so feeling rusty… feedback is apreciated or just general commentary ofc. have been in a really lovey, gentle, sweet smut mood lately so this is what ur getting sorry. don’t know why I’m so obsessed with reader being a form of escape but… ya. enjoy:)

Been having the filthiest thoughts about being the community free use slut. Everyone using you to relieve some stress. Yes, you read that right; everyone. You’re their perfect little plaything that will never say no. That just gets on her knees and takes it. No matter when or where.

It starts way at the beginning, with Shane and Daryl and Merle. Them taking turns dragging you to their tents, late at night when everyone else is asleep. Sometimes it’s just one of them, but other times they share. Take you at the same time and fill as many holes as they can. Leave you with the faintest blue and purple marks scattered all over your neck for the rest of the group to squint at in the morning. To gossip and whisper about over breakfast. Your berry stained lips and innocent eyes reminding them all of a pretty little doll they seem to treat you like.

And then you get to the prison, where things are tense, and discover that your… well, intimate service are needed more than ever. Acting as the only acceptable vice for the group to take their frustrations out on, in what you would describe as a relatively healthy way. At least considering the alternative. So while Rick is losing his mind and you’re already sharing a cell, he decides to try what a few of his friends have been doing right from the start. Using your pretty mouth as the escape they claim that works so well.

And he’s pleasantly surprised at the fact you’re more than willing. To let him urge you into the cell way before the sun has set. To let him drag you down to his bunk in the middle of the night where he doesn’t waste any time peeling your sleep shorts off in a mess of tangled sheets and blankets. And the whole time he’s with you, your lips burn hot as they trail down his neck and nip at newly sunburnt skin. You kiss him without thinking and your tongue tastes like toothpaste and bad decisions as it traces over his own and your hands seem to know the exact spots that have him pushing his jeans down to his ankles in almost shameful, record breaking time. But he doesn’t seem to mind because most importantly, having you right beneath him in the dim lit concrete cell, means that his mind, even just momentarily, is finally blank. For a few minutes, as long as you keep bringing your lips back to meet his, he has nothing to worry about. No crying newborn baby, no walkers, no fast spreading diseases or quarantines or mysterious unsolved murders. Nothing. Well, except the volume at which your pretty little moans are crawling their way up your chest and taunting your next door cell mates.

It’s when he finally has your legs wrapped around his waist and you’re so fucking warm and holy shit you’re wet, and your hands won’t leave his shoulders and your nails are scratching and raking down his back in the most pleasurable burn he could ever imagine… that, that is when it comes to him. When he finally fucking get’s it.

He understands exactly why every time it came to going on a run or splitting the group up, Daryl was always first to claim you as his partner. Why Shane was so obsessed with fixing some damn watch he found you so you could meet him out behind the barn or on the edge of the woods wearing nothing but a sundress and a smile, not a minute later then midnight. He even understood why Merle was acting uncharacteristically nicer to you than anyone else as he pouted and paced around his cell, begging for all kinds of attention but only really wanting the one. The one that was proving to be completely and irrationally addictive the more Rick thought about it. The more he focused on your skin under his hands and how sweet your voice sounded when you could no longer form a coherent sentence.

While he catches his breath, arms still wrapped around your waist, he can feel your legs trembling on either side of him as your hands continue to cup his face ever so gently. He doesn’t even open his eyes when you lean in to bite his lip and drag it out slowly before peppering sweet, meaningless kisses all down his jaw, neck and shoulders. It’s then, when your touch is making the back of his neck tingle and his breath hitch in his throat that he can’t help but feel like he’s been missing out. A whole year of this that the other guys have been experiencing? It doesn’t really seem fair. Not now that he’s had a taste. Now that he knows exactly why every man you’ve encountered since the world went to shit, has taken such an extreme and undeniable liking to you. Not now that he feels like he has to make up for lost time, pressing his forehead against yours and rocking himself back into you for the second time that night. You don’t object. You just spread your legs even further and pull at the damp curls at the base of his neck, silently urging him to keep on moving.

You don’t mind being used. Not really. It’s what you’re there for. To distract him from the horrors of the world and remind him that there’s still at least one thing worth living for. Even if it’s just a warm body in a shared bottom bunk. You’re there to ensure that the scowl lines on his face soften and his eyes close in pure, unfocused elation while he forces your hips even deeper into the mattress with involuntary moan that escapes your lips.

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dollwrites · 1 year

Text

𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 — 𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!consort!reader, pillow humping, voyeurism, overstim, dub con for like a minute, fingering, forced orgasm, degradation, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ consensual by landon tewers

“Again.”

you suck in a breath through your teeth, and stifle your own sound of incredulousness— another one? gripping the pillow in both hands and digging your knees in, straddling the fluff, you grind your bare core into it. you’d already soaked through, and your body was quivering, thighs wanting to push the pillow from between them and snap closed. you’d already cum so many times. “Are you sure?” you whisper, breathless, and roll your hips slow to ease back into the stimulation. leaning back, you put your naked figure on display for him to watch as you squirm. your eyelids are heavy, but your eyes flicker to him. “You don’t want me to do anything for you?”

Obanai was perched on a chair in the darkened corner, shadows dancing over his partially concealed features, but his eyes twinkle as he watches you. you couldn’t even be sure he was enjoying the show you were working hard to put on— he hadn’t shifted once, and his draping sleeves didn’t shift as if he were palming some secret erection. he was just staring. silently. and when you’d cum, you’d moan his name, roll your eyes and arch your back, and his only response would be one word. “Again.” he hadn’t even bothered to touch you, keeping his distance since he’d first crept inside.

“I’ll do anything for you,” you purr, batting your lashes, hoping that you could escape this looping orgasm hell by getting him off, instead. “Use my hands? They’re very soft.” you bite your lip, humming soft when your throbbing clit rubs against the damp fabric, “I could suck your cock. Make you cum with a single flick of my tong—“

“No.”

your lips purse, but you didn’t want to look too disappointed. Obanai hadn’t been one to visit you, not like the others did, and you started to feel like maybe he didn’t like you. that’s why you’d been overwhelmed with excitement to see his form darken the doorway of your bedroom, but an hour later and all he’s done was stare, seemingly unblinking, from the shadows as you fucked a pillow.

“Nothing?” you shift, trying to rub yourself slower, limit the amount of friction. “You can have me however you want, you know.” truth be told, you wanted to hold back from another climax, unsure if your body could handle another. you couldn’t force yourself through another one, but he was glaring at you.

“You’re stalling.” he mutters. “I said I want you to cum again.”

you grip the pillow tighter, rocking your hips a little faster, but still careening to avoid the rasping of your sensitive clit into the plush. “I… I’ve cum three times already.” you counter. you’d given up trying to hide how careful you were being. “I don’t know if I can—“

he stood up.

he stood up and your breath caught in your throat. your hips stutter, because he’s across the room in the blink of an eye, standing before you, and you’re suddenly speechless. regardless of his stature, Obanai was intimidating. his gaze was impossible to read, and he was so damn quiet. you hadn’t had a chance to spend any kind of time to get to know what he liked or what he disliked, but you could tell by the chilled glare he was giving you now that he didn’t like being talked back to.

“I— I’m sorry…” you whisper. you had no idea what he was capable of. you were suddenly nervous to be alone in this dark, quiet room with him.

would he hurt you?

your heart was pounding against your rib cage so violently it hurt, and you were certain he heard it, too. without a word, his arm outstretches, stuffing his hand between the pillow and your sex. you yelp in surprise when he cups it. his touch isn’t as rough as some of the others, and his slender fingers seek your clit, gliding over it like twin serpents until your eyes are rolling back and you’re writhing in his palm. “O—Obanai—“

“If you won’t give me another willingly,” he murmurs, his other hand clamping down on your chin and angling your face up towards him. your lids flutter, lips slack, “I’ll take it from you.” his eyes are zeroed in on you as his first two fingers, now slick, hook inside, and his thumb presses hard on your button. you moan, thighs trembling and clamping against his forearm, “You’re going to let me rip it out of you. And however many I want after that. If I want to see you cum again and again, so you’re too exhausted to do a thing but lay there and take it by the time the sun comes up, you’ll just have to endure it. I can have you how I want, isn’t that what you said?”

you nod, obedient, with one hand grasping his wrist. you didn’t try to pry it from your cunt, not that you thought that you could if you wanted to, but the grip was keeping you grounded. “Yes…” you groan, all your nerves screaming as your stomach knots up, “fuck, yes…”

those lithe digits spread inside you, stretching against your fervent clenching, and you dig your nails into his wrist. “That’s how I want you.” his voice is husky and heavy with lust, and for the first time tonight you can hear it. his other thumb runs over your bottom lip, and you’re all too quick to take it into your mouth, grazing it with your teeth, forcing your eyes back open to look up at him, though you were wincing as you teeter on the edge of the most powerful climax thus far. he doesn’t pull it from you, or push it deeper into your mouth, instead allowing you to use it as you pleased, as he did with your core. “So sensitive you can’t even keep your eyes open, shaking and needy and positively pathetic. Cumming as many times as I decide.” you nod, again, vision blurry as he pumps his fingers knuckle deep. it felt like he was tickling the knots that were bunching up inside you, teasing them to force an unraveling.

“T—take it, then,” you beg, words slurred as you nibble on his thumb, “It’s yours… please, please!”

it certainly wasn’t your proudest moment, crying out for him as you tremble and come utterly undone, eyes rolled back and tongue lazing out to taste his digit. your walls clench his fingers, spasming so erratically that you weren’t even sure if he’d be able to withdraw them until the waves of convulsions stopped. you aren’t even able to stay sitting upright, and collapse forward, slumping with your face buried in his midsection. your other hand grips his clothes, babbling your slurred gratitude.

Obanai doesn’t move back to avoid your clinging, nor does he slow down— driving his fingers home at the same pace and forcing you to ride out the euphoria until you’re wrecked with aftershocks and panting.

you’ve no doubt drooled over his uniform when he finally pries his thumb from between your teeth and pushes you back. you sit back on your bum, the absence of his fingers leaving your weeping core feeling sickeningly empty. “Open your mouth.” you do so without so much as opening your eyes, and you taste yourself when he shoves his fingers inside. “Are you too sensitive to give me another?”

you nod, sucking each digit clean. thank goodness, you thought. he’s going to give you a break. maybe you impressed him.

“Good. Lie on your back and spread your legs,” he orders and your stomach does a flip realizing that he’s nowhere near done with you, “I want to fuck another one out of your tender cunt.”

#obanai iguro #obanai smut #obanai x reader #obanai x you #obanai iguro x reader #obanai iguro x you #obanai iguro smut #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x you #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba

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lavendertales · 11 months

Text

cállate la boca || Miguel O'Hara x f!reader**

summary: he's so damn annoyed by you. he detests you. he finds you boring and uninteresting. except for when you're alone with him at night.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: Miguel being a bossy asshole (who rambles in Spanish when he really gets into the heat of things), dirty talk, teasing, ass play, pussy slapping, doggy, just general filth.

A/N: ...I have no comment. idk how I got here. this is just somethin' I had to get out so I'm posting and fleeing lmao 🙈 feedback is more than welcome!

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

As far as everyone else is concerned, Miguel O'Hara finds you annoying as fuck. Some might go as far as to say that he's repulsed by your mere presence.

And you don't argue with them. Why would you? You've got nothing to prove. You know the truth as well: Miguel does hate you.

Except for when he doesn't.

Which is every single night.

You don’t bother looking back on how it all started. Frankly, you don’t remember. All you know is the present and the well-choreographed routine you and Miguel have selfishly developed over the weeks.

When he shuts the door behind him, he exhales. You’re already waiting for him in the bedroom, no words spoken. Though the way in which he fucks you varies from night to night, you always know to wait for him naked unless otherwise instructed.

Miguel’s eyes notice you from the frame, drinking in the image of your nude body in the poorly lit room. He leans against the door’s frame, head cocked to the left, and then to the right. Then he slowly inches closer to the bed, disposing of the skintight suit. Your mouth nearly waters.

“Always so needy,” he groans.

You can practically hear his eyes roll. It’s best if you follow his lead once he decides the kind of mood he’s in and how he wants to use your bodies to reach the throes of pleasure.

Though you can’t help the gasp that leaves your mouth when two of his fingers boldly dip into your cunt, stroking and teasing. “Did you touch yourself before I got home?”

Part of you wants to tease him further, but you know from past experience that is a dangerous game to play with Miguel. So you gulp, shamelessly admitting defeat. “A bit,” you confess.

“So damn needy. Couldn’t wait for me to fuck you, hm?”

“Yes.”

You barely breathe. You don’t contradict, you don’t oppose him. Your desires precede any of that; you simply want to give and receive. It’s all this physical relationship is for. Relief. A simple biological need with nothing else brewing in between.

But the way Miguel goes about pleasure is somehow fitting with him: impatient (no matter what he reprimands you for), greedy, dominant and overall a wild ride. He starts playing with your clit as you gasp, spreading your legs further, and then he stops. When you involuntarily whine, he lays a spank over your pussy, though nothing you can’t handle, and leans in to whisper to your earlobe, “Ass up for me, princesita.”

You follow his instruction, albeit the mocking petname, and turn around, your ass shamelessly on display for him to play with however he deems fit. He squeezes and spanks a few times, then he moves back to your clit—and surprisingly, to the other tight ring of skin that’s in its vicinity.

“You’d let me fuck this hole too, wouldn’t you? Yeah, I bet you would. I bet you’d like me to stretch every inch of this body and would take whatever I give you.”

You can barely muster a “mhm” as Miguel’s fingers graze further, testing, anticipating and building. Building for what, you don’t know.

All you know is that you are ridiculously wet by this point, and you have to resist the urge to reach around and play with your clit—else you won’t be able to come at all tonight. Usually when you disobey, Miguel doesn’t allow for any relief from your side.

And you desperately need some relief right about now.

Sometimes he likes it when you beg. Sometimes he himself asks you to beg for him and his cock. You just don’t have the luxury of knowing when or if it will happen.

“Needy little thing,” you hear him coo.

Sometimes he likes to tease you about the height difference too. No matter what you’d look like, you’d still be smaller than him. And Miguel fucking loves that. He loves towering over you, having power and direction over you.

You succumb to him each and every time, without fail.

You can’t conceal the broken moan that you exhale when you feel his cock thrust abruptly into you. He only gives you a few seconds to adjust to him and the sensation of having him fill you up to the brim like that, and then he starts to move.

And you see stars.

“Such a needy little cunt,” Miguel mutters, groaning. “So needy and tight and wet… you thought of me when you touched yourself? Hm?”

“Mhm—“

“Hable, hoy.”

Talk, today.

“Yes—yes, I—I did—“

Words are hard to come by when Miguel’s mercilessly pounding into you from behind, holding you by your waist and with his free hand teasing your ass, barely breaching the skin there.

“You like being a little fucktoy, don’t you? Hmpf—carajo—“

He’s grunting relentlessly, proof that he doesn’t have as much control over his own reactions as much as he’d like to. Whenever he grunts that throated fuck in Spanish, you know he’s getting close. And if past is any indication, you know that soon enough his rambles and his talk will melt almost exclusively into Spanish.

“Princesita needs—needs her little pussy stretched out, doesn’t she? Princesita n-needs to be filled—with my cock, isn’t that right?”

“Yes—“

“Yes, that’s fucking right… ella me necesita… a mí, y a mi polla…”

She needs me… me, and my cock.

Miguel’s string of thoughts begins to lose itself into your body, your scent and your sounds, and you both know it. If you were to dwell into the moment too much, you might overthink how Miguel emphasized the “me” in his barely coherent string of filthy words, but you don’t. You can’t.

“La princesita está necesitada y estúpida de mi polla, ¿verdad?”

The little princess is needy and stupid for my cock, isn't she?

You swear you hear him smile behind the words. You can only mumble yes on a broken loop, feeling your climax close. You’re thankful that you’ve learned some Spanish when this whole Miguel ordeal began because approval is something he seeks deeply, almost like he feeds off of it, and the lack of a response wouldn’t sit well with him.

“Miguel—Miguel, I’m—“

“Close?”

“Mhm. P-Please—“

He grabs a handful of your hair, thus ceasing the tease to your ass, and bends your body almost in half just to whisper harshly to you, “Cállate la boca y ven”.

Shut your mouth and come.

His command sparks something inside you, and you come mere seconds later, biting your lips to the point of tasting blood so you don’t scream his name. Some night he wants to hear his name scratch your throat as you beg for him, but it seems tonight is not one of those times.

“Wanna paint this ass all over,” he groans.

And that is just what he does. He strokes himself to completion, his hot seed spilling in thick spurts all over your ass as he licks his lips. He’s already thinking of tomorrow night and how he’ll want to push new limits and explore more of your body.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 days

Text

the girl next door 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

Even if the work is a lot and at times tedious, you’re grateful for the excuse to stay inside. As you hole yourself inside the house and tidy the messes, big and small, you can hear the conversations out the walls, wafting in through open windows. It’s as content as your mother’s been in the last few years. Steve is nice enough and he doesn’t have that same snooty lean as the other suburbanites.

As you mop, you think of how he mentioned the city. You wonder what it was like. Before your grandma passed, you and your mom lived in a walk-up in a small town. Everyone there knew your names too and reviled it just the same. You never mean any harm but wherever you go, you seem to inspire spite.

Dishes, floor, walls, dusting, errant cobwebs, clutter...

You work until your mother comes in, swinging the door violently as she drags herself inside. You go to help her and she swats you away. You retreat and she finds her way to the recliner. You shut the door and lock it.

“Wonderful man,” she groans as she lays her head back and tilts the chair, extending the footrest, “don’t make ‘em like that anymore. He’s the sort I shoulda picked.” She closes her eyes and gives a wry hum, “’specially over your dad.”

You don’t say a word. She only mentions your father to remind you of that half of you she hates. You gather up the clothes on the couch into a basket. The laundry will have you up late. Your own fault; you should’ve done this all a lot sooner.

“Should I start dinner?” You ask.

“I don’t know if I’m in the mood for burnt chicken,” she scoffs meanly.

“I could do mac and cheese,” you offer.

“I’m teasing ya. Jeez, you got no sense of humour,” she sighs dreamily, “not like Steve. Such a charming man.”

You pass through the kitchen and descend to the basement to fill the washer. You add soap and twist the knob. You leave the basket on the lid and head back up. You peruse the fridge as you ponder what to make. Mac and cheese would be easiest.

You get started and the TV blips on in the next room. The audio helps chase away the tension. You leave the water to boil and lean on the archway that looks into the front room.

“Um, mom, what should I make tomorrow? For uh, dinner? With... him?”

“Well, don’t sound so damn excited,” she sits up, “whatsa matter with you? The nice man wants to come see us, unlike the rest of these snobs. My own sister won’t come through that door.” She snorts and shakes her head, “you can go to the store tomorrow and grab something nice. I don’t want ya serving that man starchy potatoes. Down at the fancy store, they got those premade meals.”

“Those are expensive,” you remark.

“And? You get your stipend, you don’t gotta be leeching off of me,” she snips.

“Um, yes, I know, I wasn’t--”

“God, look at that,” her eyes flick up to the ceiling, goddamn dusty, it’s a wonder I can breathe.”

You look up and see what she means. There’s a layer of dusty on the ceiling fan as it turns lazily on its lowest setting.

“I’ll get it--”

“Better. You’re not gonna embarrass me tomorrow. I’d be better off if you stay in your room,” she tuts.

“If you want--”

“No, you come out and say hi. Don’t be rude. You know I did try to teach you manners. You just never spoke enough to use them.”

You frown and look down meekly. She’s not wrong. You turn and go to grab the duster. You don’t think tomorrow is going to be any different than any other.

🏠

The next morning, go out to the grocery store to grab the meal for that evening. As you return, you linger at the end of the street. You can see Steve on his lawn. You wait for him to go inside before you drive up and pull into the driveway.

You carry the bags inside with your sights set on the house and nothing else. Inside, you put down your haul on the counter and put each item away, one at a time. Your mother is in the bathroom, chirping out a song out of key.

“God dammit,” she snarls, “I can’t find my red lipstick,” she rattles through her bin of makeup. She doesn’t wear it very often. “Get in here.”

Before you can pass the open door, her demand pulls you back. You enter as she sits on a stool in front of the mirror. She shoves the bin away and grumbles.

“Here,” she holds out a pair of tweezers with a tremble, “damn brows are unruly.”

You nod and step closer. You press a hand gently to her forehead and pluck out the stray hairs, shaping them as best you can.

“Don’t forget my lip,” she huffs hot breath onto you. “Don’t think he’ll like the tickle.”

She chuckles to herself. You don’t get it. You finish and step back, holding up the hand mirror for her. She shrugs.

“Get me some of that moisturizer,” she points unsteadily to the shelf above the toilet. You do as she says. “Mm,” she grumbles as you face her again, “not wearing that, are ya?”

You look down. The loose tee shirt with butterflies on it and the faded jeans are a bit plain. You tug on the hem and raise your head.

“You got a dress somewhere in there,” she shakes her head as she flips the cap up on the bottle after three tries. “I bought you some nice ones and you never put them one.”

“Uh, okay, yeah, I’ll check,” you promise. “Need help?”

You reach for the bottle and she keeps it out of your reach. You back up and leave her. You can sense her agitation growing.

You cross the hall to your bedroom and go to the closet. You slide the door open and sift through the contents hung from the bar. There’s a dress. A pink polka dot dress she got you in high school. Nothing special; a bargain bin cotton a-line with thin straps.

You take it out and examine it. That was the only dance you went to. You got stood up by the boy who asked you. You realise now it was only ever a joke at your expense.

You undress by your bed and put the dress on. It’s tight. Maybe it’s shrunk or maybe you’ve gotten bigger. You didn’t think your chest had grown that much since high school but it’s bulging out and your thighs feel a bit too exposed. You go into the hall and back into the bathroom. You shift the door as you mother works as spreading the eye cream above her cheekbones.

You look at your reflection and cringe. You turn to your mom.

“It’s too small,” you say to her.

She peers over with a scowl. She looks you up and down and drops the tube of cream. She shakes her head.

“Put a sweater over it,” she sneers, “it’s fine.”

“Right, uh, okay,” you agree and swallow. Even with a sweater, you don’t know. The skirt won’t be any longer.

“Would ya stop crowding me?” She shoos you tersely.

You push the door back against the wall and slip out of the bathroom. You head back to your bedroom and pick out a grey cardigan. It has no buttons but it’s at least as long as the dress. It’s better than feeling so exposed.

You hardly think it will matter. You already feel like a third wheel. Steve didn’t exactly spend hours talking to you and your mother as much as said you are collateral. They’re both just putting up with you because you’re there.

You run your hands over your face and hair. Can't dress that up. You pout at your reflection. You wish you could iust hide on your room and draw.

You look over at your sketchbook and cross the room. You sit on your bed and slide the folding table close. You open the pages and pick up the pencil. You straighten the page you tore from the old home and garden magazine and copy the shape of the amaryllis petals.

You can forget a little longer until real life wakes you up.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #drabble #series #au #silverfox au #the girl next door #mcu #marvel

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billybob598 · 8 months

Text

Consequences of Our Actions (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

2 fics in one day whaaaa?????? Double whammy bitches. Anyways here's part 2! Next fic will be pt2 to How Many People? Again, any feedback good or bad welcomed! Enjoy reading!

Part 1 here

Word Count: 1.3K (kinda short but who cares? (me))

“And it’s another goal for Y/N Y/L/N! Wow! She has been blossoming here at Bayern Munich.” Alexia tries to ignore the game playing on the TV in the team's common area.

“Could you shut that off, gracias,” she calls out to her teammates.

“Oh, come one Ale. Just because she’s not our teammate anymore doesn’t mean we can’t support her,” Mapi says back as she watches Ingrid dance around happily at another one of your goals. You had transferred to Bayern a little over a month ago, breaking Alexia’s heart while simultaneously repairing yours. It didn’t help that you were performing better than you had ever at Barca. Everyone at Barca understood your decision, you were not getting the playing time you deserved and the few close to you knew that it was tearing you apart to be around Alexia every day. Moving was for the best, for everyone. Everyone except Alexia, it took her days, a lot of movies, and her mother’s home cooking before she recovered from walking into your bare apartment. While she had thought about contacting you numerous times, Ingrid and Keira had advised her not to, stating that it would only make things worse. The captain missed you. She missed how whenever she called you’d be there, she missed how happy you looked when you were playing football, she missed how you’d give her kisses on the forehead before she fell asleep, she missed everything about you. While you were out there, playing and looking better than ever, Alexia was kicking herself over how she let you slip through her fingers. Her teammates were starting to become concerned, they’d never seen Alexia so hung up on anyone, not even Jenni.

Almost two months since moving to Germany and you were thriving. Everyone was so kind, the team welcomed you with open arms, the fans were already calling you an integral part of the team, everything was going perfectly. Yet, you still felt this emptiness in your heart. You knew what you were missing, but the whole point of moving was to get over her. You’d be damned if you let yourself fall down that rabbit hole again. So, you went on dates, sometimes they’d be mutual connections, sometimes they were from dating apps, and sometimes they were set up by your friends. None of them made you feel like Alexia did. None of them gave you that certain rush of adrenaline that she did. You were trying everything to get over her, but no matter what, at least once a day your thoughts would wander back to her. Reaching out to her was something you contemplated regularly however, the few friends you had made in Germany had told you not to. They said that you were there to heal. They were right, of course. But, everything just seemed off without her, Alexia gave you balance. As weird as it sounds, she was your everything even if you weren’t hers.

Once again Alexia’s finger was hovering over your contact. Once again she sighed and turned her phone off. Instead, she decided to shoot her mom a quick text asking if she could come over. Ten minutes later, Alexia is settled on her mom’s couch with Eli sitting across from her with a concerned look on her face.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, carino,” Eli asks delicately. Alexia groans in frustration.

“I don’t know, mama. I thought I would be okay, but every damn thing reminds me of her. She just won’t get out of my head. I can’t believe I lost her!” She exclaims, her hands running down her face. Eli just looks sympathetically at her daughter.

“Maybe you haven’t lost her, bebe.”

“What?”

“I mean, you could always go after her, eh? Don’t you have a few days off anyway? Go see her, tell her how you feel about her,” her mother tries to convince her. Alexia shakes her head,

“Mama, what makes you think she would want to see me? I broke her heart. I’m the reason she left! She probably wants nothing to do with me,” she mumbles out the last part sadly.

“You don’t know that. You won’t know that until you talk to her,” Eli reasons, trying everything to get her daughter to shoot her shot. Slowly nodding her head, Alexia starts to come around to the idea. Whipping out her phone, she quickly searches for flights to Munich.

The next day, Alexia walks through the streets of Munich. Surprisingly, your face is everywhere. Billboards, bus benches, store windows, apparently the people of Germany adored you. This doesn’t ease Alexia’s nerves at all. She had it all planned out, after reaching out to one of the Bayern coaches she had a connection with, she was able to discover what time your guys’ training ended and what coffee shop you frequently visited after. So, she waits inside the coffee shop for a few minutes until you walk in. You looked perfect, your hair was still damp from the shower, the Bayern Munich hoodie you donned fit you just right, and the veins on your hand popped ever so slightly when you removed your backpack from your shoulders. There was only one small problem. You weren’t alone. Accompanying you was Klara Bühl. She was standing a little too close to you, her hand a little too close to yours, her laugh a little too loud at your joke. Alexia wanted to sink into her seat. She wanted to disappear. You had moved on. God, she was stupid for thinking you would wait around for her, clearly you had not. She pushed the cap resting on her head further down. Now she had to get out of there. Taking one last sip of her coffee, she stood up as inconspicuously as she could. Her feet moved swiftly carrying her towards the exit, she was almost there, so close.

“Alexia?” Your voice stopped her dead in her tracks. She did not want to turn around, she was begging that you would let her go. You did not. “Is that you?” Taking a deep breath, Alexia spun around on her heel with a forced smile on her face.

“Y/N? Hey!” Her voice was about two octaves higher than normal.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, Klara sitting behind you was smiling softly.

“Umm, nothing. We had a few days off,” she tries to work her way out of the situation.

“So you came to Germany? Really?” Your eyebrow was raised slightly. You did not buy it.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Just enjoy your time with your girlfriend,” Alexia snapped, gesturing towards the German behind you. Your eyes widened at the insinuation that Klara was your girlfriend, but before you could say anything Alexia turned around and stormed out of the quiet cafe. You stood frozen to the spot, dumbfounded.

“Go get your girl, dumbass,” Klara, your friend, speaks up from her spot. Didn’t need to tell you twice, you shake out of your trance and sprint through the doors before searching down the sidewalks. Klara watches in amusement while sipping her coffee. Your neck was starting to ache from how quickly you were whipping it around looking for Alexia. Finally spotting her blonde streaked hair in the crowd. You push your way through many groups of people until you reach the Spanish player. Alexia jumps in surprise at your hand suddenly making its way onto her shoulder.

“Y/N? Wha-”

“Shut up and let me speak,” you cut her off. She immediately stops her question. “I’ve missed you, Ale. Like, a lot. I tried to move on, I did, but for some unfathomable reason, I can’t. I know you said ‘no’ before but if I’m right in thinking that you flew over here to see me then, I think I can ask again,” You take a deep breath, “Would you like to go on a date with me?” Alexia’s face breaks out into a blinding smile. She looks at you, her heart beating like crazy inside of her chest.

“I would love nothing more.”

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso fic #woso imagine #barca femeni x reader #barca femeni #espwnt #espwnt x reader #bayern munich frauen x reader #bayern munich frauen

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monzabee · 1 year

Text

the first monday in may – dr3

masterlist || part 1 ||

Summary: The one where you and Daniel make your first outing as a couple at this year's Met Gala.

Pairing: daniel ricciardo x actress!reader

Word Count: 4288

Warnings: cursing, mentions of anxiety and medication, apart from that none?? fluffity fluff fluff

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i wrote this on a train and a plane, so if you see any grammar issues or typos or a sentence which doesn’t make any sense, no you didn’t. after mr daniel blessing us with his met look, i just knew i had to write something for it, so i really hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it! please know that feedback is always appreciated and my inbox is always open for you guys!! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

A loud groan leaves your lips at the sound of the alarm, your hand reaching out to get a hold of your phone, but accidentally hitting something someone else. Daniel groans as you repeatedly try to hit the snooze button on his chest, and he tries to stop you by grabbing your wrist which is moving too quickly for his morning reflexes.

“Sweetheart– ow– Y/N,” he lets out a frustrated groan as he tries to turn away from you, “please stop hitting me.”

Thankfully for him, you choose to listen to his request as you roll away from him in an attempt to cover your ears with your pillow. “Make it stop, Danny.”

“Okay, just– gimme a second.” His voice is still thick from sleep, coming off more as a mumble than anything else, and his moves are sluggish as he reaches over you to turn off the alarm you’ve set the night before. “Here, done,” he breathes out as he lets himself fall back to his side of the bed, sideways, and breathy from moving quickly while still half-asleep. “Sweetheart, take your head out of there, you’re going to suffocate yourself.” Daniel mumbles, trying to coax you with this fingers leaving feathery touches on your arm and his lips leaving small kisses on the exposed skin of your neck. A lazy grin forms on his lips as you mumble something incoherent underneath your pillow, “I can’t understand you; you know.”

Your moves are almost jerky as you lift your head up and turn your body backwards to shoot him a sleepy glare, “I don’t want to wake up, let me sleep.” You go back to hugging your pillow as you close your eyes, your whiny voice making Daniel chuckle. “Stop laughing at me!”

“I can’t help it, you’re so grumpy in the mornings.” He continues to chuckle and proceed to sit up on the bed with his back against the headboard. “Pass me the phone?”

“You’re evil,” you mumble, reaching to the bedside table to retrieve his phone and turn towards him to hand it, “what time is it anyway?”

Daniel turns the phone on, his eyes burning due to the brightness of the screen as he recites, “6.30.”

“What kind of a person, in their right mind, would want to wake up in this damn hour?” You groan, hand reaching out to touch him in any way possible.

“You said you wanted to work out before all the commotion, sweetheart.”

You can hear his smile through his voice, which makes you finally open your eyes in irritation – though all your grumpiness disappears when your eyes level with his thigh. Your fingers move without their own volition as they start tracing through the helmet design of his tattoo, “Don’t listen to me, I’m crazy.”

“I thought I was the crazy one,” he reminds you, moving his eyes from the screen of his phone and flexing the muscles on his upper thigh to draw out an appreciative sigh from you, “eyes up here, Y/LN.”

You push your bottom lip out in a pout as you meet his eyes. “You know how it makes me feel like when you call me by my last name.”

“Your libido honestly concerns me.” He shakes his head, satisfied when he sees a small smile snaking its way on your lips, his voice is warm as he says, “Good morning, sweetheart.”

Pressing a soft kiss to the skin of his upper thigh, which is exposed thanks to his habit of sleeping without pants. You keep your eyes on his as you straighten up and press another kiss to his lips, resting your chin against his shoulder afterwards. “Good morning to you too, honey.”

He smiles, leaning down to give you a full bodied kiss which leaves you yearning for more; you seek him out as you follow his retreating form, which makes him smile wider as he gives into your wish. The kiss you share might be sweet starting out, but he knows better than to let you keep on going when you nip at his bottom lip. So, being the gentleman he is, he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours as he mumbles, “I take it back, you are very sweet in the mornings.”

The giggle he hears back from you is enough for him to know that this is the window he needs to take advantage of to get you out of bed, knowing that there is absolutely no way you’ll actually work out this morning. He successfully coxes you out of bed with promises of breakfast and morning coffee, directing you to the en-suite attached to your bedroom to help you with your morning routine. He holds your hair as you brush your teeth when it makes you frustrated because of the way it keeps getting in front of your face, and he watches you as you wash and apply numerous products on your face; moisturiser, eye cream, sun screen, and even stays still as you apply some on his face because “You should be treating yourself, especially today, Danny.” You hug him from behind and rest your face against his back as he brushes his own teeth, rambling about the day ahead of both of you. He makes sure to put on sweatpants and a t-shirt before going downstairs with you into the kitchen to make you breakfast and coffee as he promised, not in that order. You sit on the counter next to his work station as sip on your coffee and watch him prepare breakfast; he sings an old eighties song in an awfully off pitch, which makes you smile into the cup and let him steal some of the coffee from it. The two of you have your breakfast against the view of New York City, which is starting to become more and more alive as the time goes on.

“Are you excited for today?” He asks you, leaning against the back of the couch – the two of you are seated on the floor behind it to watch the city scape.

“Honestly?” You take a pause to try to choose the right words. “The only reason I’m remotely excited about it is because I know you’re going to be there. Are you excited?” You nudge him with your shoulder as you give him a playful grin. “The Daniel Ricciardo is making his Met Gala debut; how does it feel to be a rookie again?”

“Ha-fucking-ha,” he mockingly laughs, rolling his eyes at the sound of your laugh getting louder with a small smile forming on his lips, “I am excited, and I think we’re both going to have a lovely night.”

Your laughter continues as you poke him on his cheek repeatedly, making him join you as he starts laughing. “Look at you, being all optimistic and stuff.”

He pulls you over his lap, which ends you half-way straddling his thighs as you rest your hands on his shirt clad chest. “I’m the personification of sunshine, and don’t you ever forget it.”

The rest of the morning is spent with hushed whispers shared between you two, lazily cleaning up the kitchen to the sounds of an old record you found in your parents’ attic and took it back with you to your apartment in New York. Daniel still tries to keep up with the lyrics of the sound in his awfully off-pitched voice, claiming that he is not hearing what you claim would make “the Phantom of the Opera cry.” It’s an awfully domestic scene, a routine the two of you have been perfecting for a while since meeting each other, but it’s interrupted when the two of you hear the front door open, followed by a; “You better be awake and ready to go because I am not dealing with traffic today.”

You smile knowingly at Daniel before calling out, “In the kitchen!”

“Hi, Rosa, you want some coffee?” Daniel asks the woman, who enters into the kitchen with an angry look on her face. He gives you a peck on your forehead and moves towards the coffee machine without waiting for her answer, since he anticipates it’s going to be affirmative.

“Oh, he’s good.” Rosa mumbles, pointing to the man who hands her the cup.

The two of you share another laugh as Daniel returns to his position behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “Are you okay, Rosa?” You ask her as you try to get some of the pastries you had earlier ready for her.

“People are particularly stupid this morning, it must be in the air.” Your assistant mutters as she digs into the croissant, sighing as she takes her first bite. “You are an angel; they should consider you for the Nobel prize at some point in the future.”

“The least I can do is feed you,” you shrug, jumping slightly when Daniel squeezes your waist ever so slightly as a reminder to take the compliment – you turn to give him a look which makes it very clear for him to see you rolling your eyes. “How many photographers are there downstairs?”

“I love it when she refers to them as photographers, don’t you?” Rosa asks Daniel, and then turns her attention to you to answer your question, “A lot, which is why I need you to go get dressed so we can be early for your last fitting.”

You begrudgingly leave Daniel’s arms as you make your way towards the stairs and warning the two, “Do not gossip about me when I’m gone.”

“Wouldn’t dare dream of it, sweetheart.” Daniel nods with fake seriousness, laughing as you roll your eyes at him and poke your tongue before running up the stairs to get ready.

After managing to get ready in record time and making sure you have all the necessities for the day, you go back downstairs to say goodbye to your boyfriend for the day. There is a heavy look in his eyes as he cups your cheeks between his hands and tilts your head back to take a good look in your eyes.

“Don’t forget to call me if you’re feeling overwhelmed, okay?” Daniel asks, which comes off more as an assurance rather than a question. “Do you have everything you need?”

“I do, Danny.” You assure him, hands gripping the front of his shirt. “I’ll see you at the carpet, right?”

“Yeah,” his whisper hitting your lips as he repeats, “I’ll see you at the carpet.” After he gives you a final sweet kiss on the lips, which is interrupted by Rosa screaming for you to be quick, there is a dopey grin on his lips as he watches you walk away. “Who are you going to be wearing, again?” He asks, leaning against the counter.

You roll your eyes at his attempt to learn more about your dress – both of you having agreed not to show each other what you’re going to be dressed in just to enjoy the mystery of it all, you only know the designers both of you are going to be dressed in. “I’ll be the one in Chanel!” You call out to him as you walk out the door.

It’s not that you hate getting ready, not at all. In fact, you love sitting in a chair for three consecutive hours without having to make any moves as the light is shining in your eye. You’re glad to endure the entire process with your team, though, who manage to make the time go faster by continuously talking to you and helping you take your mind off of the anxiety starting to form at the back of your mind. Not only do you have to get ready for one of the most publicly scrutinised events of the year, you’re going to be wearing a dress which you cannot, under any circumstances, spill something on or harm in any way – and the top it all off, your entire process of getting ready is being filmed for one of the most watched YouTube channels of the most famous fashion magazine. So yes, the anxiety you’re starting to feel is not displaced at all.

The makeup-hair-nail extravaganza is interrupted by a delivery, which Rosa doesn’t allow you to go receive at the door in your robe, so while she handles the delivery, you’re stuck with three pairs of curious eyes.

“I wonder who it could be from.” Rosa smiles covertly as she hands you the flowers and the small package that is wrapped up in a bag.

You try to appear cool in front of everyone – but fail miserably as you mumble, “I wouldn’t know, I haven’t read the card yet.” After placing the vase full of colourful flowers onto the table, you spot a card attached which you take off and hold it close to your chest in a playful manner as you read it out loud, “‘You’re my celebrity girl crush’”.

“Is that supposed to be an inside joke?” Mark whispers loudly to Rosa who’s standing next to him as he peruses his make-up bag to find the right colour for your blush.

“Oh who cares?” Your hair artist, Miranda, sighs behind you. “He sent her flowers! Open the box, open the box.”

You roll your eyes at their antics as you open the small box that was in the bag, revealing three thin gold bands, which are decorated by small diamonds. A gasp comes from the man next to you, who is shaking his head in approval as he points to the ring box. “Oh he’s good, they are gorgeous!”

“You know what they say,” you mumble, smiling softly, “all good things come in three’s.”

Rosa gives you a mischievous look, “Isn’t Daniel’s driver’s number three, Y/N?”

You can feel the blush coming onto your cheeks as you wave your assistant off and duck your head slightly to get away from the amused looks of your colleagues, “Stop it.”

After hours of preparation and shooting, followed by the task of getting you into your dress for the evening (which involved lacing up a very stubborn corset) and a round of “Should the hair be up or down”, you’re finally leave after completing the last touches of your look. You try your best at standing still as you let Miranda fasten the headpiece onto your hairdo, which she manages to complete pretty quickly. The trek to the car is chaotic to say the very least, but you manage to do your best as you walk through the doors of your hotel and smile at the flashing cameras and shouting fans while you walk to the van. Having to stand in the van in order not to damage the form of the dress you’re wearing, you think the worse part of the night is over – the only thing you have to do is meet Daniel on the carpet, pose, go up the stairs and enjoy the rest of the night; easy. Which is exactly why you end up close to losing your mind when the car suddenly stops moving.

“Oh my god, please tell me we didn’t just stop in the middle of the road.” Rosa mumbles from her seat.

You take a deep breath as you answer, “I’m sure we didn’t stop in the middle of the road–”

“There are protestors on the street, in front of the other car.” The driver replies from the front seat.

“Wh-who’s in the car front?” You ask Rosa, confused, as she furiously types away on her phone.

“Paris Hilton,” she mumbles, looking up at you, “I’m sure we’ll be there on time, just a bit delayed. I need you to keep calm, okay?”

The whine that leaves your lips has her looking at you worried, “I need– can you please give me my phone?”

She hands you your phone from her bag per your request, watching you struggle with your phone. “Y/N, do you need to take your medicine? Just to calm your nerves down a little bit?”

“No, they make me sleepy.” You mumble, finally finding his contact and calling him, “I’m fine I just need to tell Daniel.”

“Sweetheart.” His voice filling your ears as you take a deep breath. “Oh my god, you didn’t tell me how crazy it was in here!”

The excitement in his voice is enough to calm some of your nerves, “Yeah, you’re having fun?”

“Fun?” He exclaims, “I just saw Jared Leto come out of a cat suit, Y/N!”

“What?” You let out a breathy laughter, your eyes are on Rosa who is trying to talk to the driver. “That is crazy.”

“I know, I wish you were here to see it, too. Where are you anyway?”

“I– I’m stuck.” You confess, hand gripping the seat you’ve been using as support tighter.

“Stuck?” He asks, his voice conveying how confused he is. “Is everything okay? Where is Rosa?”

“She is here, Danny, there are protestors on the street so it looks like I’m going to be late.” Your eyes keep watching the scene around you with you trying to see whether the people are moving as your voice wavers at the end. “Paris Hilton is also late though, so at least we’ll be fashionably late together.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Daniel coos, his voice sounding so soothing to you, “don’t worry, okay? I’ll just wait for you down here.”

You let out a disagreeing hum. “They won’t let you; they need to have people move along so they can stick to the schedule.”

“Then I’ll just wait for you at the top of the stairs,” Daniel announces, “Kris Jenner did it for her kids, didn’t she?”

“I– What– ” You scramble to put the words together, making Rosa frown at you. “How do you even know that?”

“You obviously doubt my ability to keep up with the Kardashians, sweetheart. Now breath for me, will you?”

Daniel ends up staying with you on the phone until he is called up. You can tell he is hesitant to leave you, but you assure him that you’ll see him when you get there. Lucky for you, the crowd end up scattering and the car starts moving once again. You let out a relieved breath, but pray that no other complications arise until you make it to the Met. When the car stops again and Rosa informs you that you’ve made it to the location, you feel as if there is a big weight being lifted off your shoulders. You don’t even remember getting off the van and going inside or even stepping on to the carpet, but your short-lived dissociation is cut in half when you hear your name being shouted over and over again. You do your best to pose for every single camera even if the flashes are hurting your eyes once Rosa gently moves you along to help you onto the stairs, and you follow her as you pose for the las time looking over your shoulder with a wide smile – a pose you give every year, which the media dubbed as being yours and your mother manages to find new places to hang around the house after every year’s gala. You shoot Rosa a grateful look as she helps you move up the stairs by linking her arm with yours and lifting your dress for you to move more freely.

You’re almost out of breath when you reach the top of the stairs, but there is a smile on your face as you hear, “We have another bride, ladies and gentleman, another one!” You look around to the source of the voice a loud laugh escaping you when you locate it. Emma hums the Wedding March as you make your way over to her, also singing, “Here comes the bride.”

“It’s so good to see you again!” You smile at her, quickly giving her a hug. “Three years in a row? I’m so proud of you!”

“Oh stop it, I’m never going to keep this gig if I blush on camera!” Emma laughs, pointing to your outfit. “Obviously, we have another Chanel Bride here, but what can you tell us about your look today?”

“Well, it’s Bridal Chanel – from my mother’s collection actually. She decided to buy this for me before I was even born, so than you mom,” you tip your head to the camera and lift your fingers up in a mock salute, “sorry for not wearing it for my actual wedding.”

“Oh, no!” Emma gasps, “Was she angry with you for not saving it for your wedding?”

“I don’t think so?” You wave her off, laughing as you assure her, “We were looking at different looks to pull from the archives, and I always ask her opinion on these things, actually she was the one suggested it.”

She nods in understanding, smiling as she tips her microphone. “Well that’s a relief! What are your thoughts about this year’s theme for the Met Gala?”

You widen your eyes playfully, taking a moment to choose your words very wisely. “Yeah, I mean Karl was such a big influence in the fashion industry, but I think the important part about tonight’s theme is that creativity and fashion brings people together, and when people do come together beautiful things happen; that’s what I’m choosing to focus on.”

“That’s a beautiful way to put it actually,” Emma praises your answer, pointing to your hands as she asks, “And as a last question, what can you tell us about your jewellery? I mean I love all the bling you have on you right now.”

That manages to pull another laugh out of you, and you show the camera your hands for a moment as you answer her question. “The necklace was a wedding gift from my father to my mother, which is why it makes it so special; I think. As for the rings, most of them are mine but my boyfriend got me the gold ones, so they are very special as well”

“Well, thank you for answering a few questions for us tonight, and I hope you have a wonderful night!”

Right as you turn back to leave after saying goodbye to Emma and her team, your eyes lock with a very familiar set of brown eyes. The breath is knocked out of your lungs when you take in his attire, your legs taking you to his waiting arms in no time. You can’t help the giggle sneaking out of your mouth as you look up to him with a wide smile to match the one on his own face, “I am sending Thom Browne a thank-you card, and a fruit basket.”

“You like?” Daniel asks, raising a brow and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You let your fingers toy with the bowtie resting on his neck, “Oh, I love.”

His voice is smug as he lowers his voice, “I’m glad, sweetheart.”

“You in tweed does something to me,” you mumble, hands going over to feel the fabric of his jacket, “and don’t even get me started on the damn bowtie.”

“The bowtie is doing it for you?” Daniel laughs, and it is a full-bodied one where he throws his head back. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Do I look like I’m joking, honey?” You ask him in a deadpan voice. “I love this, I want you to wear this around the house, please.”

“Well, since you asked nicely.” Daniel nods. He takes your hands in his as he makes you twirl around for him to see your whole outfit, smiling at you boyishly when you face him again, “I was not expecting you to see you in a wedding dress when I woke up this morning.”

“Well, it’s Chanel.” You emphasise what you’ve told him earlier this morning, which he responds to by attempting to tickle you by your waist through the corset of your dress.

He tilts his head as he looks at you without any hint of joking, but his voice is the opposite as he asks, “Hey, you wanna get married after this?”

“Yeah sure, can I still take you home tonight afterwards?”

“You can always take me home, sweetheart.” He wiggles his eyebrows, pulling get another giggle from you. “Now, before we go inside and lose ourselves in all the food and the alcohol, is it going to ruin your makeup if I kiss you?”

You raise your eyebrows as you playfully smile at him. “I might not make it through tonight if you don’t kiss me right now, honey.”

“Well, when you say it like that,” he murmurs, pulling you towards himself with the help of his hands on your waist, and capturing your lips in a long awaited kiss. His lips are unbelievably soft, you realise, as your eyes close and suddenly all you care about the man in your eyes. The camera flashes doesn’t slow down the way Daniel kisses you, it’s one of those kisses he gives you when the two of you see each other after it’s been a while. A groan rumbles from the back of your throat when he scrapes his teeth against your lower lip, the pad of his thumb and his pointer finger angling your chin to give him a better access. You can hear the smirk in his voice as he pulls away, leaving you chasing after his lips while they touch yours as he speaks in a low voice, “I told you; you shouldn’t have doubted my ability to keep up with the Kardashians.”

You let out a breathy chuckle as you mumble, “Just kiss me, idiot,” and pull him in another kiss by his neck.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fluff

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d3arapril · 7 months

Text

modern!abby headcanons

a sfw ver because i can’t get over the fact that abby isn’t real. Goodnight

⭐️ safe for all audiences. my inbox is open! any feedback, ideas or general chat is welcome <3

abby loves loving and she loves to be loved.

she loves her friends, her family and she loves you the most. she even thinks she loves the old, kind man that ran the small bookstore she’d been visiting since she was young

having lots of people around her is super important to her, she has a big heart and even though she looks like a lion she’s really just a little baby house cat that wants to make people happy <3

she’s a bit of a people pleaser sometimes. like she goes our of her way to do things for people even if she really doesn’t want to but she’s working on it 💪🏽

loves being around you but also loves time to herself to work out, read and drool on her pillow during a particularly deep sleep without being mocked by you every morning

ABBY SLEEPS LIKE A LOG. this bitch does not move during her sleep, like you could literally scream bloody murder and she’d barely flinch. she also sleeps on her front sometimes and has her face in the pillow ??? you often wonder if she’s even alive and breathing (she is) (she has little to no trauma and jerry is alive in my world so she doesn’t get nightmares etc. i want the best for her <;3)

i think she’s very particular about looking after herself/keeping clean etc and it’s a super big thing for her. although she’s fairly masc presenting don’t be fooled, shes a lil girly girl deep deep down

her hair is long and healthy because she never uses heat and uses hair masks, she looks after her skin and uses the ordinary products (they work for her ok!), she exfoliates and shaves her legs frequently bc she feels like they look more muscular when they’re smooth and she enjoys feeling like a dolphin

she’s always got her hair in that damn braid and you try convince her to do other styles but she basically refuses

“you don’t like it?” she’s whining, faking it of course - she knows you like it. “no abs i love it, just wish you’d wear your hair down more. suits you”

“well that’s reserved for only you, babe” the soft kiss she presses to your temple and the brush of her hands against your hips makes you want to braid her hair forever until your fingers seize up

i feel like abby doesn’t have much of a dress sense lmao like girl just wears plain clothes and calls it a day. basically how she dresses in game but just less dirty and more kind of.. modern and put together. not the ugly brown boots tho ❌

she wears doc marten boots and adidas sambas. has 3 different pairs of sambas actually

prefers alcohol over drugs. she likes to get drunk in moderation and she can sink so much tequila (she blames manny and nora and says they are bad influences… abby is the one pouring the shots🙄) and she becomes a lot louder and clingy when she’s drunk and thinks she can dance. she can’t.

i kind of mentioned this in my nsfw hc’s but abby probably has an old like iphone 5c or something cos she doesn’t really care about upgrading it

girl hates video games so she probably isn’t big on tech in general. as long as she can call and text she doesn’t care too much

“you may as well just get a nokia, abby..” “what am i? a drug dealer? 🙄”

sticking to the theme, abby doesn’t really use social media that much. she refused to download tiktok because she didn’t want to fall into the trap of endless scrolling (she fell into said trap approx 20 minutes after downloading the app. now it’s “babe have you seen what i sent you yet?” every 10 minutes)

doesn’t care about/keep up with trends etc, confused when u ask her about the roman empire

“i mean, i’ve read about it? what kind of question is that??”

does have a burner instagram acc that she follows u and a few of her closest friends on (not mel)

also uses snapchat every so often to send u gym pics and u get excited thinking it’ll be a mirror pic of her flexing or something but instead it’s just an extreme close up of her sweaty ass red face with the caption ‘Help 🫠’

has an album in her photos called ‘Progress’ where she tracks her gains 🥰 its ur fav and u ask to look at the pics all the time 🥰 shes ur big muscly baby 🥰

abs can get a lil bit hot headed and irate sometimes so u argue every now and then but it’s never anything major, and she always buys u flowers and grovels until you’ve made up anyways

she usually just goes to the gym if she’s feeling some type of way and works out until she’s on the verge of passing out to make her feel better (you told her that she should deal with her anger better. she told you that she know’s what she’s doing…)

calls you babe but that’s kinda it, also likes to be called babe

likes to give u massages and run you a bath… and then gets in the bath with u and takes up basically all of the space

when u went on ur first holiday together she had to use the sicky bag on the plane bc of her fear of heights :(

she’s getting better now tho, just squeezes her eyes shut and holds your hand until the bones almost break… she then falls asleep for basically the entire flight and drools onto her neck pillow lol

refuses to watch anything but american dad at bedtime bc she really enjoys it for some reason

she looks after you with all she has and would go to the end of the earth for you if she could. there’s no one else like her

#i love her #cheers sons crying #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson #the last of us fluff #the last of us #abby anderson smut #i know its not smut but this is like the onky way to get ur shit seen !!! SORRY YALL #abby baby #my writing

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