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seresinhangmanjake · 2 months

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Daddy!Benny Cross x Momma!Reader

Your and Benny’s little girl gets injured playing on a bike and must go to the hospital. Benny doesn’t handle it well.

Warnings/Notes: mention of broken bones, cursing, angry but sweet dad Benny, protectiveness, typos, and I think that’s it.

Part of the Come Back Knockin’ universe. Takes place after Come Back Together and Together and More, but you don't have to read these beforehand to understand this fic.

Words: 1250

Benny Cross Masterlist

Benny’s going to lose his damn mind—that’s all you can think as you stand beside Wahoo in the hospital lobby, the both of you keeping sharp eyes out the wall-length windows to spot your husband. Facing him will be no easy feat and you need all the time you can get to prepare yourselves before he stomps through those doors.

“Wahoo, I don't know about this. You really better go back to the meeting,” you encourage him, as you’ve done at least ten times in the last fifteen minutes.

“Nah, I gotta stay and apologize to ‘im,” he replies. “But you shouldn’t have to wait here with me. You should go be with your girl.”

Your eyes scan the visible area from the benches in the flowered courtyard to the emergency sign attached to the building’s exterior brick before darting to the looped driveway reserved for ambulances. He’s nowhere in sight. But he will be soon enough. You called him—you peek at your watch—exactly twelve minutes and forty-three seconds ago. The shop is nineteen minutes away from the hospital and there’s no way he’s not speeding.

“If I go, who is going to stop Benny from killing you?” you say, your heart hammering in your chest.

You love your husband, but the man has a temper that can flare as easily as a swift strike of a match. He has started many short-lived fights, always requiring some patching up before the excitement finally settles down, but if Benny is given time to simmer, he can explode with an unrivaled rage.

Wahoo chuckles awkwardly, turning his head to look at you.

“You got a point there, sweetheart,” he says. Then he goes silent amongst the background chattering of anxious families and ringing phone lines at the front desk.

You glance his way just in time to see the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple.

“I won’t let him,” you promise. “You know…kill you.”

“Not sure you’re gonna be able to stop ‘im. You and the kid are the most important things in his world, and one of yous got hurt on my watch.”

A wince pinches your face at the memory and you’re so busy worrying about how the events of the next few minutes are going to unfold that you miss Benny’s entrance entirely.

“What the fuck!” Benny shouts. It echoes throughout the room, making every head swivel, every conversation cease.

As he storms closer, you step between him and Wahoo, your hands planting firmly on his chest. Murder is in his glare and though he could easily barrel through the barrier in his path, that would involve shoving you aside, and regardless of the circumstances, he would never do that.

Benny’s arm raises over your shoulder, finger pointed like a dagger toward his friend—well, enemy, at the moment. “What the hell you doin’ lettin’ my four-year-old on your fuckin’ bike!”

He tries to side-step you but you’re watching his feet, catching his movements before he can finish making them.

“I’m real sorry, Benny,” Wahoo says meekly.

“Sorry? You’re sorry!” His tone is darker, fists clenching, anger overflowing and spilling onto the tiled floor. Without glancing at you, in a much softer—but still threatening—voice, he says, “Baby, move.”

You look up at him. Your hands slide from his chest to cup his cheeks in a failed effort to trap his attention. “Benny, it was an accident, ok? Alright? She was just playing pretend like she does with you and she wiggled out of his grasp and landed wrong,” you tell him.

“I don't fuckin’ care if it was an accident.”

He’s so revved up, so locked in on his target, that your stomach twists for Wahoo. He’s been such a kind man and he’s so good with your daughter that he’s told you once or twice he wishes he could have one of his own someday.

When Lucy fell, it took all of two seconds for his visibly consuming guilt to settle in. He’d immediately picked her up, buckled her into your car, and followed you straight to the hospital where he has stressed over her injured state from the moment of arrival. He doesn’t deserve the abuse from Benny as if he was negligent. Benny, a man who regularly demonstrates little of his own self-preservation skills, but happens to go feral when his child so much as skins her knee.

“Move.”

“Benny, please,” you say. “Honey, look at me.”

If you can get his eyes on you then he’ll be stuck to you like glue. He’ll calm down. The huffing and puffing of his chest will slow.

And to your relief, when you stand up on your toes to invade his line of sight that is exactly what happens. The vengeance drains out of his face, replaced by a gentleness that only ever reveals itself to you and your shared child.

“She’s fine,” you say. “She cried until the doctor gave her a sucker and now I’m not sure she even cares about her arm.”

Benny’s mouth dips into a frown. His brow pinches, then his teeth bite down hard on his bottom lip. “She got hurt,” he says, and your heart breaks for him.

You sigh. “I know.”

“I wasn’t there.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to stop it even if you were. It happened in a split-second,” you tell him. “You’re here now; that’s what matters. And wouldn’t you rather see her than argue?”

Benny’s exhale is a sharp release of air that subdues the remnants of his temper. “Where is she?”

You point to the double doors off to the side of the lobby. “Through there,” you say.

Benny swallows, nods, and takes your hand. But when he looks up, the glare resurfaces. “You're not gettin’ off,” he tells Wahoo. “I’ll deal with you later.”

As Benny pulls you along in the direction of your daughter, you quickly whisper to your friend, “I'll take care of it, but you ought to go.”

Wahoo’s smile is weak, never reaching his eyes, and his hands slip into his jeans pockets before he turns on his heel for the exit.

---

“Daddy!”

Lucy hops up from the floor where a few toys are scattered about from playing with the nurse in your absence.

Benny plasters on a smile that barely conceals his agitation as he scoops her up in his arms. “You doin’ alright, nugget?”

“Mhmm,” Lucy hums, chipper as ever. “I finished my sucker. It tasted like grape.” She lifts her arm and Benny’s head jerks back to avoid a collision with his nose. “You like my cast?”

You watch Benny struggle to come up with a positive reply, considering that within said cast is his little baby’s broken arm. “Y-Yea, Lu. It’s…It’s real great.”

“It’s blue!”

“I see that.”

The nurse chuckles as she rises from the floor and dusts invisible specks of dirt from her pristinely white uniform. “You’ve got yourself a lovely little girl,” she praises, tilting her head affectionately as he takes in the image of Lucy tucking her head into the crook of Benny’s neck. “The doctor says we’ll need to see you back here in six weeks.”

“Thank you.”

She starts toward the door but pauses as she passes your daughter. “Goodbye, miss Lucy,” she says, her smile wide.

“Bye, miss nurse!” With her good hand, Lucy gives an animated wave that the nurse returns as she closes the door behind her.

Benny releases the sigh you’re pretty sure he’s been holding in since you called him. He cups the side of Lucy's head as if he could cradle her closer than she already is.

“You're not gonna be sittin’ up on any bikes for a real long while,” he says.

Lucy’s head shoots up, eyes widening in panic. “Nooo!” she whines. “You can't stop me!”

“You wanna bet?”

“Yes!” she snaps back. “I…I'll do it when you aren't lookin'!”

Benny scoffs. "I'm not lettin' you out of my sight."

"I'll be real sneaky!"

The air of rebelliousness is all too familiar and it makes you snicker. Because despite the exhaustion of the day, despite the tears and the shouting and the drama that you hope will not reemerge later, all you can think as the bantering unfolds before you is that that little girl is definitely Benny Cross’s daughter.

---

Thanks for reading :)

Tag List (if you wanna join)

#benny cross x reader #benny cross #benny cross x you #austin butler #the bikeriders #benny cross fic #the bikeriders fic

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neteyamsilly · 2 years

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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3

summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.

No answer.

What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.

“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.”

They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him.

The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.

A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.”

“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”

He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!

“That was fast,” the captor behind you said.

“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”

“...Quaritch?”

Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?

“In the flesh.”

Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”

“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”

“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”

The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant.

This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—

“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”

Silence again.

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”

Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”

“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”

“Fucking bastard—”

With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.”

You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!”

“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”

“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped.

Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?

Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”

“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.”

“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”

“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”

“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?”

“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”

“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”

“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”

He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.”

“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”

“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”

“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?”

He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”

“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”

That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight.

“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”

“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”

“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”

“Guys, what’s going on…”

Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.

“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”

“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s. “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”

Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”

“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”

“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated.

“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!”

He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”

The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”

And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”

“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”

“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”

It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning.

“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”

“You’re asking me?—”

The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”

Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”

Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”

“Great title for your autobiography.”

Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while.

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk.

Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows.

The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.

He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”

All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”

The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.”

The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”

“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”

“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”

Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.

She nodded. “I know dad.”

He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand.

Just what was happening? What had you done?

Eywa, it had to be sky people.

Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind.

Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.

You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline.

(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”

Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.

And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.

“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.

What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)

You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known.

Think, think! How could you get out of this?

Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought.

It was mom.

Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix.

Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.

But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.

All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you.

You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off.

How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up

All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father.

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.

Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. ��Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.

In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point.

“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”

You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that.

Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches.

Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you.

At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.

Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”

His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin.

“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’

But you were tired.

Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life.

Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”

He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word.

Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain.

Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right.

Got an ikran for nothing.

Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?

But no words were exchanged about it.

Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone.

A ticking time bomb.

Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful.

And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction.

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know.

Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way.

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”

He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.

The man just didn’t want to talk to you.

And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety.

“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”

Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves.

“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily.

Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”

You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to. “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you.

You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories.

A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony.

Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”

When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it.

Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.”

“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!”

“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air? “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”

Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.

A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry.

“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”

The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.

“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”

Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!

Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”

The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute.

Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.

And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.

It was over.

Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”

Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance.

Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking.

And you fulfilled his wish.

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#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #irma: 📝#📖: light

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aliwritex · 8 months

Text

welcome to my new obsession: F1

part 2

long ass thoughts about daniel x alonso!reader (daughter) im talking like 4k

for context: i was thinking like monegasque/spanish!reader, like, her mom from monaco and she was like born there or smt. this can be quite messy bc it really was just thoughts.

warnings: SMUT (oral – M and F rec–, fingering, anal fingering, PinV, danny being kinda rough) with barely any plot, danny and reader being sluts, not proof read in lazy, AGE GAP (reader is like 20) size kink

"Are you not gonna kiss me?" you asked after dancing with him for what felt like the entire night.

"How old are you?"

"Old enough to be in here"

"That's good enough"

He lowered his head to reach your lips and kissed you hungrily. It was messy and you both tasted like alcohol but you couldn't care less.

You weren't so sure of how you ended up waking up in his hotel room with your dress unzipped, bunched up around your waist and no underwear. You sat up for a second, trying to remember who you left the club with, luckily, an vcarb shirt was laid on the chair next to the bed. Considering that you had a 50/50 chance, you were pretty lucky to get it right. "Daniel?" you called from the bed.

"Good mornin" he smiled as he came out of the bathroom, still damp, hair wet and a towel around his waist.

"Not so sure it's a good morning when I don'tremember what happened last night. Did we fuck?"

“You better hope not cause i don't see any condoms around here."

"Daniel, are you fucking serious right now?" you ask, before putting on the t-shirt he just threw at you.

"I'm kidding, alright?"

"Then what the fuck happened? Why aren't my panties on my body?" you asked almost angry at how calm he was about this.

"Hey, hey, no need to freak out. I just ate you out, alright? But I guess you were too drunk because you fell asleep almost instantly after you came on my tongue and told me I was 'too fucking good'

"Oh god, I'm sorry, this is so embarrassing. How can you be sure that happened? You were drunk too"

"Well, you were quite unforgivable, babe, pulling my hair and grinding on my face. That and the fact that I can handle my alcohol." he chuckled.

"Don't fucking laugh about this, s'not funny" you hit his stupid smile with a pillow. "God, my dad is gonna kill me. He was afraid i'd get with stroll, you know, but this? This is so much worse"

“Why am I worse than stroll?”

"Cause you're like, almost 20 years older than me. this is so messed up. How am I gonna get out of here, there are people outside." it was your home town after all, people knew you.

“I'll figure this out, okay? just wait a second and stop freaking out."

You got up from the bed, taking the rest of your dress off before walking to the bathroom. the second you saw yourself in the mirror you started washing all that old make up off, you looked destroyed. as you looked through daniels things, trying to find a face wash or a moisturizer, you heard him on the phone

"Hey, Lan, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, mate, what's up?"

"Is your girlfriend with you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Do you think she could borrow yn some sneakers and like, training shorts or something?"

"Why on earth are you calling about yn?"

"Well, we kinda had a thing last night and now she's like, stuck in here, only in her party dress."

"Are we fucking talking the same yn mate?"

"I would think so, yeah"

"Are you taking a fucking piss?"

"Not at all"

"Oh this is so messed up. you fucked your coworkers daughter?"

"Kinda, and i don't see how this is messed up"

"Mate, how old is she?"

"She was old enough to be in the club"

"Can you just cut it? who the fuck are you telling about us?" you came out of the bathroom, done with his conversation.

"Just Lando, I'm trynna help you out here" he told you before talking back to his phone "can you just please ask your girlfriend for the clothes? Thanks, I'll be right there." he ended the call, laying his phone on the bed as you stood right in front of him. "Don't be mad at me, alright?" he pulled you closer, in between his parted legs, and kissed your love handle, over the shirt. you ran your hand through his wet curls, locking your fingers in them when he grabbed your ass. "Dan?"

"Yeah?" he looked up at you with bright brown eyes.

"Think i can make up to you for last night?"

"Would love that, yeah"

You straddled him, hands meeting his cheeks as you kissed him. His arms wrapping around your waist, making you grind down onto his towel. You could feel him growing against you as you let the texture of the towel catch your clit. You really tried to drag out the making out but after a couple of minutes his tip as aggressively poking your thigh. “That was quick" you tease and you slide off his lap, going on your knees in front of him. You unfolded the towel that hung around his hips and almost didn't believe what you saw. "Fuck" you sighed.

"What's wrong, baby?" he teased, looking down at you and brushing your hair off your face.

"You could've given a warning" you joked before wrapping your hand around his base, leading it to your lips, you spit on the tip, using your other hand to smear it all over him, his cock so thick he fit perfectly in your fist. You started pumping slowly, looking up and holding direct eye contact with him, starting to feel hot under his stare. Your hand moved loosely around him, your palm feeling all the prominent veins of his cock before stoping at the base so you could leave a kiss on his tip.

"Stop teasing, love." he complained, slightly bucking his hips up so you took his head into your mouth. You did, gladly, sucking hardly on it before going all the way down. You couldn't quite take all of him in your mouth but you came close, the move making you slightly gag around him. You pulled away, pumping your hand while you recovered from it. You swirled your tongue on his tip, watching as he threw his head back, hands becoming fists that propped him up on the bed, you let your mouth slide down on him, always taking everything you could. Every time you had to pull away to breathe, your hands made up for it, either pressing your thumb down on his slit or running your palm against his sensitive head.

"Fuck, baby, feel so good, 'm so close" he groaned as you popped off his length with a disgustingly erotic sound, string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his tip. "shit"

"Want you inside me. please?" you asked, taking your spot back on his lap.

“If someone ever says no to that question, love, they're going insane." he smiled against your neck before kissing down to your shoulder. His hand went back down to your ass, lifting the shirt you wore and spreading your cheeks apart, his long finger reaching for your opening. he circled it, spreading your wetness around before dipping into you, making you wiggle your hips till you got used to the feeling. As much as you just wanted him inside you, he barely fit in your mouth so you knew this was necessary. When he slipped the second finger in, your head fell onto his shoulder and as a gagged moan fell out of your lips you felt him smile against the skin of your neck.

“Think you're ready, baby?" he whispered in your ear and you nodded. Daniel pulled his fingers out of you, reaching for a condom on the bedside table and putting it on before lifting your hips till his tip tapped your hole. His hands on your ass started lowering you onto him, you were unbelievably tight compared to his girth and it had you squeezing him so good.

"Dan" you called, face buried in his neck, hands running through the short curls on the back of his head, "so fucking big." you sighed as you tried to make him bottom out inside you. he couldn't help but chuckle against your neck, he already knew he was too big for your petite figure but you were not giving up on taking him whole. You felt bad enough for using him the previous night, you needed to make him feel good.

"Don't need to take it all if you can't, baby" he said before laying back on his elbows, watching you struggle as you took him in, a smirk never leaving his face. When he finally watched himself bottom out in you he sat back up.

"Doing so good, didn't think you'd be able to take it." he whispered to your lips before crashing them against his.

Daniel lifted your shirt till he met your tits and started to give them attention, kissing and sucking, kneading and bitting, all of it borderline overwhelming as you were still getting used to him inside you. He had both of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you as close as he could as you started grinding against him. He was sucking on your tits so hard, making you wetter by the second, as he moved his hips to meet yours.

"Dan, fuck, feel so good, so big" you whispered against his lips before kissing him, it being so deep and intense that you slowed down your hip movements. Daniel, however, made sure to increase his movements, fucking up into you. even though you were the one trying to make up to him, he was the one who seemed to be doing everything in his power to make you feel good.

With a particular thrust, you let a moan out into his mouth making him part the kiss and take his lips down your chest again. the attention he was paying to your boobs was driving you insane, all the kissing and sucking being almost too much. your moans becoming louder with every thrust of his as he let out groans against your skin.

"fuck, so fucking close, cmon, baby, don't stop." he said in your ear, making you shiver. you sped up your bouncing on his lap and started clenching on purpose around him. it wasn't long before he came with a deep moan in your ear. Barely taking time to enjoy his release, he flipped you over onto the bed, one hand beside your head, holding himself up and the other right down to your clit, circling it as he trusted a few last times into you, his softening dick still making you feel full. "come for me, baby, need to make sure you're done too" he whispered.

"so close, just a little more, please" you begged and he thrusted into you one last time, making you cum. he immediately fell on you, burring his face in the crook of your neck as you came back from your high. “‘kay, get off, still need to get out of here."

"yeah, okay. i'll just get dressed and i'll get you some clothes." He flipped off you, pulling his towel to cover himself again.

"have you seen my phone?" you asked, looking around the room. he handed it to you, along with a charger and pointed to the outlet by the bed.

You watched him get dressed as you waited for your phone to turn on, his muscles on display for you, gradually being covered by some shorts and a tshirt, leaving most of his tattoos uncovered. You couldn't help but let your eyes wander around his body, his muscles, his hair and his nose, you pressed your thighs together at the thought of riding his face and pulling his hair, having his beard scratch your legs, god, you wish you weren't so drunk the night before to remember how good he was.

"be right back" he warned, pulling you out of your daydreaming before leaving the room. as he left, you decided to get up to take a shower, you still smelled like alcohol and daniels cologne from the night before.

While you were in the shower daniel headed to landos room, knocking on the door when he reached it. "mornin' mate"

"did you fucking do her again?" Lando accused as soon as he opened the door, noticing his friends smile and his flushed cheeks

"none of your business, dude." he pushed lando on the shoulder. "thanks for the clothes, though, really saving my ass here. see you later, yeah? still coming with me?"

"sure, see you" he said, clearly just trying to get rid of daniel.

and he did leave, walking back to his room with the shorts and shoes in his hand. "m back, got your clothes" he laid it on the bed before starting to collect his things from the room.

"thanks" you said after coming out of the shower in your towel. you got dressed, annoyingly going commando since you couldn't find your underwear anywhere in his room, and started collecting your stuff too. “think i'm good to go"

"wait" he stopped you "here" daniel placed a cap on your head, tightening it and handing you sunglasses. "ll make sure you get your dress and shoes back, 'kay? will you be in spain?"

"course, but only on saturday. ill text you the place when i get there, so, like, check your dms or something" you commented already going out the door and checking your phone to know where you'd be meeting your dad.

the next time you saw daniel was on monday afternoon.

you went to a coffee shop at the airport after saying goodbye to your dad for a week. he was walking past and stopped immediately when he saw you, approaching your table and asking if he could sit.

"sure, go ahead" you weren't exactly happy about the situation, still afraid this would get to your dad, he wasn't opposed to you dating anyone but, this was his coworker and he was 15 years older than you.

"i got something for you. was gonna wait to give it to you later but i thought you might be needing it." he pulled a small piece of fabric from the pocket of his jeans and bunched it inside his fist before giving it to you.

the second you realized what it was you kicked his leg under the table. "daniel! for fucks sake, have you completely lost your mind?"

"just thought you'd wanna be wearing this again next time you throw yourself at me at the club."

"don't worry, won't be doing that ever again. wasn't really worth it, too much effort, not enough pleasure, you know?" you teased before taking a sip of your coffee.

"sure, keep telling yourself that. listen, i gotta go, see you in like, what, three days?"

"five" you corrected, also getting up from the table.

your next encounter was on saturday night.

Daniel had gotten pole position on quali and as of mandatory gone partying. It was actually insane to you how he managed to end up in the same club as you in a city as big as barcelona. maybe he saw your story and found out where you were but you didn't mind to check.

You were just sitting on the bar, mindlessly flirting with some guy that didn't have a single chance when you saw him. You decided to ignore, not minding his presence while you talked to someone else, but he reached you first. He walked over to you from behind so you didn't notice till his hand was discreetly on your waist, the guy your were taking to left as soon as he realized who daniel was.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me" you said, loud enough so he could hear it, slipping out of the stool

"Hello to you too." he smiled

"what are you doing here?"

"Celebrating. Got fucking pole position" he said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Are you gonna be able to maintain it drinking like this?"

"First and only" he lifted his beer bottle. "Wanna dance?"

Now Daniel wasn’t the best at dancing – though he did love to –, but when your hips caught his he knew exactly what to do, they followed yours to the rhythm of the music and his hands roamed through your body with yours on top. You danced through a few songs as Daniel tried kissing you, you denied, knowing that as soon as you kissed him, you’d want to go home with him.

“Just a kiss, c’mon” he whispered, beard scratching on your neck.

You shook your head, turning around to face him and taking his hand. “Just dance with me, yeah?” you smiled, starting to fold your knees and using his handhold as support, in seconds you were on the floor, twearking as you stared at him. You caught his lips moving as he cussed at the view, now if he didn’t go home with you tonight he would go insane. Daniel helped you up, watching you come up from the floor while swaying your hips.

“Stop playing me, we’re gonna do this or not?” he asked you with some level of dominance, something you found extremely hot on that moment. You nodded, pulling him away from the crowd by the hand, when you got out he just looked at the valet and in matter of a minute his Aston Martin was by the door. Daniel helped you into the car before settling himself.

“We can go to my apartment, it’s a bit messy cause i just got there today but, no cameras.” you suggested

“Is it close?” you nodded “lead the way.”

In about 15 minutes you were inside your house, he looked around as you kissed what you reached of his neck, his hands sat on your ass cheeks. “Danny, come on” you groaned against his chest as you unbuttoned his shirt.

“Just looking for somewhere i can fuck you, baby. Think i just found it.” he picked you up from the floor, caring you over to your couch and laying you on it. Daniel easily climbed on top of you, kissing on your neck and visible parts of your chest. Your legs wrapped around hism, making your dress ride up and pool around your waist.

“Dan” you whispered in his ear, hoping it would make him act faster. It just made him quickly grind down on you before going on his knees.

“Gotta make sure you remember how good i make you feel in the morning this time, baby.” he teased as he spread your legs, placing himself between them. Daniel hooked his arms underneath your thighs, settling you to be face to face with your heat. He blew against your aching core, sending shivers down your spine making you close your knees. “love the reactions your body has to me, baby, but keep these apart, wanna make you feel good.”

You threw your head back as your hands went to his hair, you ran your fingers through the curls and pulled him closer to you.He kissed your clit through your thong, smirking as he pulled it to the side and swiped his finger between your lips, guiding it to his lips and sucking on it. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you watched him do it.

“Daniel, stop teasing. Just eat me out already, please” you cried out.

He smiled as he pulled your panties down your legs. Daniel kissed and licked your thighs, ignoring your wish, the teasing driving you insane. Two of his fingers split your lips open, your wet cunt now completely exposed to him, he kissed around it, the creases between your thighs and your middle and the bottom of your stomach before planting a kiss right on your lips, anticipation killing you by the second.

“Danny, please. Need you now” you groaned not even thinking about how desperate you sounded, when he had barely touched you.

“You talk a lot less when you’re drunker, love. Maybe I should get some more alcohol in you before fucking this pretty cunt” he whispered as his fingers circled your hole, a sigh of relief leaving your lips immediately.

He grinned at your reaction before his lips met your heat again. They kissed your hole, tongue slightly dipping into you before making its way up. His flat tongue traced from the bottom of your vulva all the way up to your clit, lapping at it. His hand made their way up your waist under your shirt, trying to reach your chest but your shirt was too tight. “Off” he mumbled against your skin.

“what?” your question made him lift his head, letting you catch a glimpse of his lips, glistening with your wetness.

“Off. Take your shirt off.”

You pulled your top over your head, throwing it to the side before your hands made their way back to his hair. His fingers tweaked your nipples between them before palming your boobs entirely. He started fucking you with his tongue, penetrating it slowly as the bridge of his nose caught your clit, giving you the lightest of pressure whenever he moved his face around. His tongue left your hole when you stopped giving him reactions, mouth now working on sucking your clit.

“Danny, please” you moaned when his lips left your clit and started teasing by sucking on your lips. Your begging made him give up the teasing.

The tip of his tongue circled your clit before liking up and down your hole, his nose hitting your sensitive nub again. A soft moan left your mouth as he moved his head side to side, using his nose to stimulate your clit but he stopped as soon as you did. You looked down at him, about to complain but you caught a challenging look in his eyes and understood what he wanted. You started grinding your hips against his face, the pressure of his nose just perfect and in a couple of seconds he had you uncontrollably humping on his face.

“Dan, ‘m so close” you sighed.

He let you use him for your release as his tongue lapped at your dripping hole, the noises his mouth was making so unholy. His pants were getting uncomfortably tighter by the second, he needed you on his cock. Gladly, you, too, were desperate to have him. You came the second he penetrated you with two fingers, ridding down your high as he curled them inside you. His head left the space between your legs and came up to face you.

“Don’t go sleepy on me this time” he joked “wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Fuck, Dan. Let’s go to my room, please, need you.” you mumbled as he kissed your neck, hands snaking under your ass to lift you up. he effortlessly carried you inside, opening the door he guessed was the main bedroom and threw you on the bed. You giggled, watching as he unbuckled his belt and undid his pants before pushing his already unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders and taking off the tshirt he had under it. His hands looked for the zipper on your sparkly skirt and pulled it down, sliding it off your legs, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You pulled him down making him lay over you, holding his torso up with his forearms beside your head.

“Wait, wait, wait” he mumbled into the kiss, getting up again to take off his pants for good after kicking his boots away. He then laid over you again, kissing every single inch of your neck as you tried desperately to grind up onto him and feel his hardness. “so fucking impatient, you are. Have you got any condoms here?”

“Probably” you turned on your side, reaching for your bedside table and found a single one, handing it to him after checking the expiration date. You watched as he opened and put it on, mesmerized by how hot he looked in agony. Seconds later he was lowering his hips, finally penetrating you, his thick cock spreading you up and making your walls burn. “Fuck, Dan, so fucking big” your legs wrapped around his hips, driving them deeper inside of you.

Daniel groaned in your ear when he bottomed out inside you, the feeling of your cunt swallowing him being ridiculously overwhelming. His lips met yours as he started to grind onto you, hips building up the pace till he was pounding into you. All you could do was moan uncontrollably, if you saw the state you were in you’d be embarrassed but when you had his dick buried inside you it really didn’t matter.

“Daniel, please, faster” you begged, making his hips start snapping against yours. You smiled, feeling every thought slip out of your mind as he fucked your pussy, it hurt so bad but so good, you could feel the tears running down your cheeks.

When he lifted his face up from the crook of your neck he finally saw the state you were in. His hips slowed down reluctantly as he starred at your face. You were about to complain but he cut you off. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, shit, don’t stop, Daniel, please.” you kissed him to show that you were fine, making him speed his movements again. He tried carrying the kiss but your mouth started falling open in pleasure, just whining and mumbling in his ear, you needed more, apparently. So Daniel lifted his body up and threw your legs over his shoulders, shoving a pillow under your hips, you cloud feel every single inch of him as he snapped into you.

“Do you ever shut up?” he teased, annoyed with all the options you had to give on his performance. He then took his two middle fingers and pushed them past your lips. The sight of you sucking on the fingers of his tatted hand driving him crazy. Daniel felt possessive and controlling and you weren’t complaining, felt great having someone wreck you completely. His right hand traveled down from your thigh to your clit, circling it ferociously because he could see and feel how close you were. You came with a embarrassingly loud moan just after a few seconds of his fingers on you, squirting on him and yourself. It dripped down your folds wetting his cock and down the back of your thighs that stamped on his as he still snapped inside you.

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me.” he admired the view in front of him. His fingers were still in your mouth but not sucking anymore, your hands loose above your head, all your muscles shutting down as you let go of the tension that had been building up inside you. He pulled his fingers from your mouth, and his cock out of you before straightening his back “Flip” his hands each side of your hip helping with the transition.

He pushed himself inside you again, the burning sensation less intense now that he had already stretched you on his cock. His thrusts started slow, taking his time to pick up the pace and fixate his eyes on your body. Your head was laid flat on the bed as you arched your back to the maximum, he took notice of your hair splattered out on the covers, of your waist and how small it looked with his hand around it and lastly of your asshole. It was wet from your arousal and release, glistening under the lights and calling for him, he could see it clench around nothing.

Daniel moved his hand from your waist, taking it to his mouth and sucking and spitting on his thumb before folding over you, your back to his chest as he circled the finger around your hole. “Breathe” he whispered in your ear watching you nod before pulling away to watch as his thumb entered you. “Shit” he moaned, felling how tight you were around him, the overwhelming sensation of penetration making your cunt and asshole clench around him in a synchronized motion.

“Daniel, please, just cum, can’t do it anymore, too much.” you groaned against the pillow, feeling overstimulated and used. “Fuck, cum on my ass, Daniel” you whispered, knowing it would drive him insane.

“Fuck” he sighed before he pulled out and ripped the condom off of him, watching your gapping hole clench. The hand that had a finger inside you pulled you closer by the ass, making it rest against his thighs and he pumped his fist around his cock till his cum painted your back with ropes of white. “Shit, shit, shit. Don’t you fucking move” he reached for his pants and pulled out his phone, his thumb immediately making its way back to your hole so he could snap a picture. “That might be the prettiest sight of all, babygirl.”

Daniel pulled out completely, pushing your hip so you fell on your side, your body immediately curling up and shutting down on the mattress. You were a mess, spit covering half of your face, your thighs slippery with arousal and now your back covered in cum.

“Dan?” he hummed “there’s a small towel in my suitcase, right on top. Can you wet it a bit and bring it to me? Please?”

“Yeah, don’t worry i’ll clean you up. Just let me sort myself out first.” he was slightly out of breath too, you could hear it in his voice “Fuck, baby. You okay?” you nodded against the pillow. “Too week to shower right now, yeah? We can shower in the morning.” he said after seeing that your thighs were still quivering.

He got up from the edge of the bed where he was sitting and grabbed the towel from your bag before leaving the room. He came back a few minutes later with a bottle of water and the dampened towel. He dragged it against your thighs, lifting the right one so he could get to your messy middle. Being extremely careful with it he cleaned you up entirely, making sure to leave his cum for last to not spread it all over you.

“Here, got some water.” you sat up against the headboard taking the bottle from his hands. As you drank your water you watched him put his boxers back on and pick up his clothes from the floor, folding them messily and putting them on top of your dresser, his keys and wallet beside them.

“Daniel, just leave it. Turn off the light and come here. ‘M tired.”

He did what you asked and got under the covers, bringing them up to your chest as you laid with your back turned to him. He scooted closer and pulled you in easily with an arm around your waist.

“I’m a cuddler, gonna have to deal with that.” he smiled against your neck, leaving a small kiss before tucking your head right beneath his own so you were comfortably fit in his embrace.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 #a writes

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cranberryjuice-posts · 8 months

Note

A BRAINROT THAT I CANT LET GO OF!!

VAMPIRE!DAUGHTER OF HADES!READER X CLARISSE

Like Clarisse finds out cus reader was like feeding off a animal or smth and offers reader to feed on her instead if reader uses her superspeed to like win capture the flag or something!

Maybe a camper sees a old scarred bite mark on Clarisse and asks about it but Clarisse quickly makes a excuse 👀 (they eventually date ofc)

- Apex predator -

Pairings - Clarisse La rue x Fem! Vampire! Daughter of hades! Reader

An - this is pretty short and rushed I’m sry I had a comp today and I just wanted to get sum out🙁🙁🙏

“Y/n!” Clarisse yelled running around the forest.

You heard her. Only problem you were to busy to answer. Clarisse continued to move about the forest trying to find you.

After a few minutes the stronger girl noticed you crouched down with your back facing her. “Shit.. there you are” the girl panted. You didn’t respond only keeping yourself hidden from her. “Hello? Babe what are yo-“ clarisse stopped once she saw blood pooling around you.

Cautiously clarisse set her spear down against a tree before slowly stepping to you.

You were frozen not knowing what to do, if clarisse saw what you were doing she would hate you and if you ran she would be suspicious. In anxious thoughts you hadn’t realized clarisse turned you around.

Once the She had saw you with a dead rabbit in hands and blood dripping from your mouth she looked down at you with horror. Taking a step back clarisse grabbed her spear storming off.

You threw the dead rabbit aside quickly getting up and chasing after the girl. “Wait wait please let me explain” desperately you tried to catch up to clarisse who was now walking away.

“Explain what!” She turned around looking You up and down “explain why you were eating a dead rabbit raw?! Yeah I would love to hear about how my girlfriend is a psycho”

“Clarisse please” You begged grabbing her arms. “I know this is weird but I can explain I just need you to trust me” looking in her eyes you watched as clarisse started to calm down. “Fine” she bitterly spoke. “Explain”

You let out a slow breath before speaking “being the daughter of hades im a forbidden kid.. I had been killed a long time ago and in an attempt to save me my dad made a deal with thanatos to bring me back but even that costed something, my humanity. In Order to keep living and aging like a normal person I have to drink blood”

Clarisse looked like she didn’t belive You but at the same time she knew the gods did unbelievable things. “So what your a vampire now or something” she scoffed, nodding your head you looked down embarrassed by it all. “I’m sorry.. I know I should of told you but it’s just… fuck” you sighed

After a few moments clarisse grabbed your face, confused you followed the girls lead allowing you to turn your face in different directions. Eventually she pried your mouth open taking a look at your sharp K-9’s.

Clarisse sighed pulling You Close by your waist into a hug. “You should of told me” she kissed your forehead. “We’re having a talk about this later ok, a serious sit down talk got it” she pulled back holding your face. You nodded once again placing your hand over hers. “Good, now I need you to come with me to do something to get the flag”

———

“And That’s Everything” You sighed, sitting on your girlfriends lap as you both were in clarisses bed. Clarisse nodded rubbing soft circles on your hips. “Have you ever tried to feed off a person?” She asked looking up at you.

You shrugged your shoulders “once I mean human blood holds me over much longer than rabbit or animal but I don’t know anyone who willingly would let me do that”

Shifting around some clarisse pulled her camp shirt collar down tapping her neck. You looked confused earning you an annoyed scoff from clarisse “do you need an invitation just do what ever it is you do”

“Are You Sure? It’s gonna leave a mark I don’t know”

“I don’t care about a damn mark”

Debating it for a second you sighed leaning forward. Sinking your teeth into clarisses neck you punctured the girls skin. Immediately sucking on her neck you reveled in the warmness of the girls blood.

After a few moments You pulled pack panting. Looking at clarisse you started to laugh as the tough girl covered her face from how flustered she was.

“You liked that?”

“Fuck off”

You leaned in giving her a teasing peck on the lips, laughing as the girl jokingly complained.

——

Random camper - Jesus clarisse what happened to your neck

Clarisse - Thats none of your damn business

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse x female reader #butch clarisse #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse larue #percy jackson show #pjo show #pjo fandom

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iid-smile · 23 days

Text

can't get rid of me , fushiguro toji

a strong legacy to be left behind , chapter one

the series masterlist. | previous | next

cw: profanity, mentions of pregnancy (pills) but filtered for megumi's sake, mentions of violence in prison, you're broke, smoking cigarettes

author's note: sigh... im out of my fluff era 😞 (sorry guys) kinda wanted to write something that i think would actually happen in some sort of alternate jjk universe and um idk how far to go because this kind of stuff does happen in the manga, but writing it feels illegal??? idk...

"mom?" megumi peeks out from around the corner in the hallway. "who was calling?"

another groan escapes your lips, around the fifth one in the last three minutes, and you silence your phone once again. "your— excuse my language, shitty deadbeat dad keeps wanting to call me." you slap your hand across your forehead and lean back on the couch, a small creak coming from somewhere below. "apparently he's getting aggressive in prison. shut off the house phone, but they still found my number..."

your son comes closer to you, and you scoop him up, placing him by your side. he glances up at you, and you swear your fight or flight instincts nearly kicked in, (not that you'd be able to fight of a guy as big as toji anyways) flinching slightly from his sharp gaze. it sucks how he looks so much like his dad, because you loved megumi so much. but the image of that guy was almost too much to bear, and he's the spitting image.

"shitty?" he repeats. for a well-behaved kid, he really doesn't respect your words.

"don't say that megs, it's bad language." you swear around him all of the time, so what's the point in scolding him? "only your mama can say it."

"don't tell me what to do."

wow. okay. why do you feel threatened by a six year old? "damn, you've got his attitude too." you mutter, but you've only got yourself to blame for that. you knew you were never cut out to be a mother, so your ways of parenting weren't the best.

he snuggles closer to you, and you openly accept, moving your free hand to his hair to rub over it. "why can't i see toji?"

ah, this lovely story again. "because he left me as soon as you were born, love." really, you couldn't and didn't want to stop yourself from wrapping him up in your arms, feeling the need to protect him. "at this point, he's dead to me. seems like he doesn't feel the same though... i'm so sick of his ass." you also knew it wasn't good parenting to rant to your child about adult issues, but you've only got him to talk to.

that hug was out of comfort then. why are you lying to yourself?

he looks up at you with an irritatingly cute but blank face. "why?"

"god, i hate how many questions you ask." you speak under your breath once again, looking up at the ceiling from any sort of help from a higher being. the amount of times you've had to family-friendly-ify things that have happened isn't even funny. you're not naturally rated u for universal. it's more embarrassing when he recites those same stories to his teachers, and you get called into the school for a little talk.

yikes... here we go. "he lied when he said he gave me the right magical candy after we visited the stork. tried to make it drop you off back to where babies are made in heaven, but i wanted it to deliver you to me, whether he liked that or not." the story's got to be a little filtered somehow. you'd rather not get yourself in the principal's office again. "you're my little hero; a miracle to me. i would've given up on myself ages ago. your dad is a bad, bad man."

the type that would kill. if he found where you lived, or perhaps where megumi goes to school...

"and now i'm left broke in an apartment that barely functions, yet i still spoil my little hero." you sing-song, leaning your head back. "and with what money? i'm broke as hell, megs. can't even make both of us breakfast in the morning cuz your elementary school is too damn expensive."

"is this my fault?"

"...no. no, baby, of course not." you furrow your eyebrows more, a small pout in your lips. "if anything, you made my situation a bit more fortunate."

it's a selfish way of thinking, using your child to avoid solving your problems, using your child to wail and complain about how much you hate your life, but you've got nothing to lose. nothing to lose except for the one person you love.

you can feel your phone buzzing again.

"you stay here and watch tv, okay? mama's gonna go to the kitchen and talk to her friend." he seems a bit relieved as you let go of him, and you stand up.

you hear him mutter. "it's only playing the news though..." no shit it only plays the news, you can't afford to get a good television company that has any kids shows. that is, unless you wanna get scammed out of all of your money.

begrudgingly, you make your way to the kitchen, confirm that you closed the door completely, and answer the vibrating device. "hello?" you sigh, placing the device over your ear.

the other person on the call replies quickly. "is this miss—"

"yeah, yeah, it is. what the hell do you want?"

"um... we apologise, but we strongly suggest that you come to the prison building. he—" the guy's voice cracks. must be really nervous. "pardon me. he's been physically assaulting other inmates and guards, he doesn't follow orders, he never leaves his cell unless it's to visit the closed visits room. you know, in hopes that you'll come..."

obsessed much? where was this energy six years ago? "that's got nothing to do with me."

"please, ma'am. he won't listen to anyone, and we are unable to place him into special facilities as he doesn't emit any cursed energy." ah, he's begging? that's a first. you never would've thought you'd hear a person who works at a prison begging.

cursed energy, cursed energy, this talk again and again and again. "urgh..." you take a deep breath. your options are limited, and they won't stop calling until they can get that lunatic to calm down... surprise, surprise, you really don't want to go.

but if you were really uninterested in him, wouldn't you have already spent the bail money that's been sat on the counter for ages, neatly concealed in an envelope? wouldn't you have paid off all of your debts already? "will i— hm..." choose your words carefully, goddamn it. "can i get a reward of some sort if i go? money?"

"yes, yes! please do visit. there's nothing we can legally do to him in check anymore." ...you think this guy sounds a little too eager.

damn toji and his "supernatural powers", or else you wouldn't get yourself into this mess. finally, after your moment of silence, you respond. "okay. i'll visit."

"thank you—!" you cut off the line.

"fucking bastard..." you drop your phone on the counter, running your hands through your hair and over your face. "stressing me out for what? you don't even love me." your words turn into whispers. with haste, you rummage through your back pocket, trying to find those last few cigarettes, but as your hands were occupied, your eyes moved over to the ashtray that was collecting dust on top of the microwave. oh, right... you don't smoke anymore because there's no ventilation indoors.

you'd have to head out if you wanted to, but then megumi would be in the apartment on his own. and nobody can babysit, because you don't have anybody to ask to babysit. great, you can't smoke until monday. it's a friday afternoon. you have two whole days to get through!

you know for a fact your addiction won't hold out for that long.

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i-love-ptv · 1 month

Text

Please Don’t Think I’m Insecure ₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

You navigate your relationship with Rafe, but you can never escape that green-eyed monster.

Wc: 2,100

Angst, bit of comfort at the end?

An: First, sorry to the brunette girls, but im kinda projecting rn. BUT YAYYYY I WROTE ABOUT RAFE FOR THE FIRST TIME! I randomly got a burst of writing energy while listening to ethel cain (this has nothing to do w any of her songs, at least not purposefully if it somehow relates idk)

Feedback ALWAYS appreciated my loves!! xxx

You couldn’t help but feel envious of the brunette girls of the Outer Banks.

You found that they carry a different type of beauty, one that you couldn’t compare to.

Every time you glance and see your darling boyfriend, Rafe, being hounded by these girls, you swear you feel a piece of your soul being ripped from your body.

You and Rafe’s relationship wasn’t always smooth sailing. In fact, the two of you had broken up before, when he chose his drugs over you.

Every party, you’d see him snort lines, roll his blunts, and nearly drown himself in all sorts of liquor.

It killed you to leave him, but you remembered exactly why you decided to put the ultimatum on the table when he called you a “controlling, insecure bitch.”

You had never packed your bags faster.

You would stalk Topper and Kelce on instagram for months, just so you could search every background of every photo for the boy you were in love with.

You occasionally saw Rafe around the island, sometimes you’d stare a second too long, and he’d catch your wandering eyes. You never held eye contact, so you never saw how he’d frown at you. He wished he could read your mind, just to see if you think about him, like how he thinks about you.

You briefly remembered looking at your bedside table clock, after being abruptly awoken by thunks, on your window.

It was 2:33 in the morning.

At first, you ignored it, thinking it was just the rain picking up. But the thunk, thunk, thunk only continued, getting harder each time.

You slowly approached your window, knowing that if needed, you could easily run to your dad, and have him pull out his gun to deal with whatever was plaguing your slumber.

You quickly yanked your curtains open and slid the creaky window open. You really needed to have your parents deal with that.

You immediately looked down and saw none other than Rafe Cameron himself.

He was soaked to the bone, crouching in the grass, you assumed he was looking for more things to throw.

“Rafe..?” You whisper-shouted down at him.

He looked up at you like a deer in headlights, this allowed you to notice his blistering red face, and his semi-glossy eyes.

This was the first time that you saw his freshly buzzed hair in person, rather than from a distance.

You would’ve been lying if you said he didn’t look devilishly handsome.

“Jeez peach….You really are a heavy sleeper.” Rafe said with a watery chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

He hoped you didn’t notice the sadness in his voice, and if you did he at least hoped you wouldn’t mention it.

“God, Rafe, why didn’t you just come to the front door like a normal person.” You sighed, and with that, you closed the window and curtains.

Rafe’s eyes widened, his breath picked up, and he felt his stomach drop.

He rubbed at his eyes angrily, wiping away his salty tears.

He was too busy in his head, going over how ‘stupid and idiotic’ he felt for thinking you’d even consider taking him back after what he put you through a year prior, to notice you walking up to him.

“Rafe…Hun, please come inside…You’re going to get sick at this rate.” You muttered, rubbing your hand on his shoulder to provide an ounce of comfort.

You heard him gasp softly, but he refused to look into your eyes, that makes you frown.

You were outside in the pouring rain, in a robe and slippers, coaxing him into your house, and he couldn't even look you in the eyes?

You knew it wasn't right to feel this way, you thought it was that grudge that you held for what he did to you deep down.

Your mind was reeling, thoughts flying around like a flock of birds in the wind.

You didn’t know how to feel, seeing your ex-boyfriend, who hurt you so badly, outside of your house with tears in his eyes.

His tears.

His tears make you think of all the times he’d come over to your house, after seeking solace away from his father, who’d decided to pick another argument with the boy.

He would lay his head in your lap as you played with his long, silky brown strands of hair.

You would wipe his tears every single time he needed you.

It was always you who was there for him.

It was always you who’d understood him the most out of anyone on the damn island, hell, out of anyone on the entire planet.

You couldn’t help but think about all the times he’d lash out on you, while you’re going to retrieve a towel for him, and a fresh pair of his old clothes from your drawer. You had never given them back, you wanted a piece of your old, sweet Rafe, since it felt like that part of him had vanished.

You came back and saw him standing idly near the front door, lingering, you could tell he was too nervous to sit without permission, not wanting to overstep.

You hand him the clothes, he immediately recognizes his old ‘Kildare Athletics’ shirt, but of course, he decides not to mention it.

He had begun to strip in front of you, you quickly turned around, muttering a “Jesus Christ…” to yourself.

You heard rustling, then eventually heard a soft, “Done” escape from Rafe’s cracked lips.

You sat him on the couch, while you put his wet clothes in the bathroom; that was a task to deal with another day.

You couldn’t bring yourself to sit next to him, not trusting your sleepy judgment to keep you from babying him like you want to, like you used to.

You broke the silence by whispering, “Why are you here, Rafe? It’s so late…”

“God, it’s so weird to hear you call me by my name, normally it was always “baby,” or “puddin’.”

“Please Rafe, I’m not in the mood.” You exclaimed softly, your resolve slowly breaking down.

Rafe toyed with the gold signet ring on his finger, deciding what to say.

“I miss you peach…nothing’s the same without you. And I know..Before you say anything, I know I fucked up. I think about that everyday. I have since that day…” He paused, trying to find his words.

You looked at him, your eyes beckoning him to continue.

He noticed a glint in your eye, almost looking like hope, and it made him break down.

“I didn’t think I’d get this far..Uhm, give me a second please..” He was embarrassed, you could tell.

“I don’t get it Rafe, I thought you loved me…How could you do that to us..?” You choked on your words, feeling the tears start to build.

Rafe shot up at this, “I do!” He exclaimed, immediately regretting it when he remembered that your parents were just upstairs.

Your cat, Daphne, crawled into his lap, being startled awake by his yell.

He scratched behind her ears and continued, “Of course I do. I always did. I know I didn’t make it obvious, and I barely showed it, but I promise I did. Seeing you walk out that door made me realize just how much I love you.”

“I still don’t understand…” You murmur as you pick at the sleeve of your fluffy, cloud-like robe.

“I….I got scared, baby. Things between us were getting so..Real, I guess. I found myself thinking about you every second of the day, wondering where you were, thinking about who you were with, if that idiot JJ was still flirting with you like he used to..” Rafe gulps.

“I’ve never felt like this about anyone, so when it kept growing, I panicked, and ran. I turned to coke, and booze to try and gather myself. I felt pathetic, knowing that my day revolved on how yours went.”

Rafe’s shoulders shook, and you grabbed his hand, you intertwined your fingers with his, gripping him tightly.

That night, you told Rafe how you felt, then, and when the two of you were together. The conversation was hard on both of you, but by the time the sun was about to rise, you decided to give him another chance. Telling him how you wanted to take it slow at first, to make sure that you wouldn’t get hurt again.

Rafe flinched at this, feeling disgusted, knowing that he had made you build your walls up again.

Which brings you to today, you had gone off to find a water bottle somewhere in the crowded house.

When you finally were able to locate a few, and you walked back outside.

That’s when you saw it.

Rafe was talking to her.

Sofia.

It was no surprise to everyone that the two had dated months prior to you and Rafe getting back together.

They were the talk of the island, of course you had heard.

But they weren’t together anymore, Rafe came back to you.

So why do you still feel those anxious butterflies in your stomach? They feel like moths, flying around recklessly inside you.

You feel like you’re on the brink of vomiting.

A part of you wondered if he still wanted her,

If he got back together with you, then there was a possibility of him wanting to get back together with another one of his exes.

You want to confront the problem head-on, really! But the thought of doing so makes your legs feel like jelly in your flip-flops.

You turn around, quickly walking back inside the crowded house, searching every corner for a place to find a moment of quiet.

After hearing three different couples doing things they probably shouldn’t in a bedroom that wasn’t theirs, you found a small hall closet.

It felt weird, sitting in a somewhat cramped closet, begging for everyone and everything to just go away.

You’re sitting in the dark when you see a flash that lights up the closet: it’s your phone.

You look at it, the blaring sight of a text from ‘My Baby! 💞’.

You ponder for a moment, then decide to ignore it.

You hate feeling like this, feeling like you can be so easily replaced by someone you know is prettier than you.

Sofia was perfect; she was loved by all of the older folk at the country club. She carried herself with nothing but confidence. You wish you could feel the same.

Suddenly, your shorts start to feel like they’re two sizes too small, and your shirt shrinks by the second.

You wanted to be perfect.

Why couldn’t you be perfect?

Did you want it for yourself? Or do you want it for Rafe.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear shouts throughout the hallway.

You glance at your phone and notice that over half an hour has gone by.

“Peach?! Peach, baby, where are you?!” You hear, and you feel yourself cower deeper into the closet.

The last thing you want is for Rafe to find you in here, crying like a little girl, wishing to be perfect for just a moment.

You hear the string of curses getting closer and closer to you.

You try to conceal your hiccups, by holding your hand over your mouth.

This makes it worse, you can’t catch your breath, but you don’t remove your hand.

Your head is pounding. Your chest hurts.

You quickly start sobbing, just wanting to disappear.

Without warning, the closet door is yanked open.

There you see your boyfriend Rafe, looking slightly out of breath, almost as if he was urgently trying to find you.

Light fills the room, and his arms quickly wrap around your frame.

You grip onto him harshly, trying to focus on the smell of his rich cologne against his skin.

Rafe pulls away slightly, looking at you with worried eyes that scan your frame.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, peach! Where have you been?! What’s going on?!” Rafe babbled.

You try to answer him, but only a pathetic squeak leaves your throat. You sob harder at this.

Rafe knows that it’ll be impossible to try and get anything out of you while you’re in this state.

So he continues to hold you, rubbing circles up and down your back. Soft hushes leave his lips as he tries to help you regain your breath.

Rafe knows he wasn’t a good boyfriend in the past, and it was always you who’d be there for him.

Now it was his turn to be here, for you.

sorry if the ending is rushed cuties, I couldn’t think of anything else and i wanted to get smth out for y’all😭

#lee’s writing! ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎#rafe cameron x reader #obx x reader #obx x you #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x you #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #rafe obx #obx fic #obx

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unhinged-waterlilly · 2 months

Text

Why would you be scared of me?

Ooc Intro

My name's Lilly Darhk. I'm a daughter of Poseidon, adopted daughter of Odysseus, Penelope, and Hector anddddd Legacy of Styx(just don't ask). I'm a ✧female✧.My pronouns are she/her, fuck if I know my sexuality. I'm currently possessed by Nyx, Scylla, Styx, and Hera(how am I alive? We'll never know). A Champion of Athena(my dad's proud of me for thattt) and Achilles.

Reside in Itacha now! I used to live at Camp Half-blood though. I still go to Camp pretty often. Usually I train the newbies. More often, I just kick them down on their ass.

Keep the hellhounds away from me, or I swear to Hades, I will kill them. Sorry, the only hellhound I'm okay with is Mrs. O'Leary and I prefer staying away from her too.

Currently on a self appointed quest of getting as many bows from as many gods as I can so if you're a god or if you know a god who can give me a bow tell me please- gimmeeee.

My fatal flaw? I've been told it's my pride. I can't imagine why.

For weapons, I got two bracelets. Ones for my daggers, the other for my bows. There's a full quiver on there, too. Just flick, and there in my hand. Pretty neat.

My kill count? Monsters or mortals? Do you really want to know? Next is death count. Haven't died yet miraculously. How many times I've almost died is a whole other thing.

Key:

Nyx(purple, bold) Scylla(blue,bold) Styx(red,italic) Hera(orange,italic)

Lilly(normal)

Face Claim:

Something about @/demigod-jack-hearth...

Something about me...

The peeps I knoww:

They, like, possess me: @primordialgoddessofnight , @werelonelydemonsfromhell , @heraaaaaaaa

Champions of: @achilles-the-greatest

My bio dad: @that-little-fucking-shit

Dad, who adopted me: @odysseus-of-ithaca-is-lost

Another version of the dad that adopted me that I don't like as much: @odysseus-reigning-king-of-ithaca

Other dad who looked at me and was like 'That one' (he regrets it every day): @paris-you-idiot

My mom, who was completely okay with ody adopting me and didn't question it at all(which i still find kinda weird): @penelope-is-waiting

My sister from Poseidon: @daonedaonlyskh

My other sister from Odysseus: @reigningprincesstofithaca

My psychotic adoptive brother: @reigningprinceofithaca

Other version of my brother, less insane more sad: @telemachus-of-ithaca

Other other version of my brother, but he's 12 and adorable! (And if anyone hurts him... you better hope you die before I get to you) @telemachus-is-lost

Other other other versions of my brother are 10 noww: @young-telemachus

Other other other other version of my brother and he has horrid taste in men: @the-prince-telemachus

Other other other other other version of my brother who thinks he's Shakespeare or that arrow Apollo dealt with: @ithacas-prince

Other other other other other other version of my brother except Poseidon took him or something: @taken-by-the-seas

Other other other other other other other version of my brother who..wait that isn't right... Not traumatised???? I don't know how this is possible: @youre-fatherless-im-not-hehe

Other other other other other other other other version of my brother who's 15 and just...i don't know how to feel about him if I had to kill a Tele I'd probably kill him: @another-telemachus-wont-hurt

My brother from Poseidon, who's an idiot: @forbiddensonoftheseagod

My cyclops brother, very tall, very blind and does not know what small talk is: @my-baseballs-are-humans

Ma boyfriend, who's very awesome, and if anyone hurts him, I will make sure you die a very slow death. :D @madson-of-hermes-notluke

My boyfriend's half sister(who's also my friend ig): @hispanic-child-of-hermes

Richbitches4lifeee: @if-chaos-was-a-boy

Nyx possesses this dude, too. Oh, and there's also his husband: @idontloveanybodythatsmypower

Some dude who sent me a meme to be my friend and then wrote me a song: @clown-energy-skyrocketing

Fellow Luke defender😌 @childofthewargod

There's more people I know-

Cool art of meh :3

Stuff about Lilly... (1)

Moodboard...

~~~

No NSFW. DNI if you're zionist, transphobic, homophobic, racist, sexist, a nazi, xenophobic, or otherwise

#rp #oc rp #pjo rp #pjo rp blog #rp blog #rp bios #percy jackson roleplay #percy jackson rp

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multifariousqueer · 1 year

Note

im starving for 42 miles and i agree w ur hcs so can u pls write a fem reader fic where we’re chilling at home n he js barges in one night all roughed up n he has heaps of cuts n is bloody- and we get concerned but we know not to ask so we js silently patch him up while he stares at us (and hes got like sm thoughts in his head ab how much he loves us and appreciates us etc) and u can finish it off BUT YEAH

also pls include the pet names cos his accent has me WEAKKK and ik he def calls us ma and mami😩😩😩

Ofc Love!!! I’ve wanted to get this done for a bit now so here it is!!:

A/n: keep requesting miles!42 and regular miles fics please!! 🩷

Warnings: suggestiveness at the end, make out sessions, angst, fluff, groping(it’s consensual and it’s only seen when you squint), love confessions, possible spoilers if you haven’t seen atsv yet

3:00 AM

You: miles, baby are you okay?

Seen

You: are you mad at me for the joke I made about your braids being fluffy?

Seen

You: I didn’t mean it

You: text me when you can. Love you 🩷🩷

Seen

You fell asleep exasperated like you’ve been doing for the last three weeks now. Miles hasn’t been answering any of your texts or calls and has been leaving you on seen for no reason. When you did see him in person, he looked tired and diminished. Ever since his dad died, he’s been acting weird like this; but you could understand why. Although him and Uncle Aaron were closer, Miles was still really close to his dad and his dad loved you. You came over Rio and Miles’ house every day since then and tried to provide solace to them but Miles was always gone when you came over. His room looked different too, having ditched the bright superhero posters and traded them in for boxing gloves and a punching bag. Thankfully, you had established trust with Miles and he knew he could come to you any time, you just didn’t expect him to come through your window at 4:00 AM on a Saturday morning.

It was about 3:15 when he saw your message, he wondered why you were still up and what were you doing but he couldn’t ponder the question for too long because he had someone chained up to his punching bag.

“Miles? Get off your phone, man.”- Uncle Aaron’s voice brought Miles back to reality

Miles did as told and geared up to kill the young boy who looked exactly like himself when all of a sudden, the chains fell and the doppelgänger swung at Miles’ perfectly structured face. A few of the punches connected but he was still able to subdue the mirrored image of himself(if everything went right).

However, Miles’ suit had been clobbered, his clothes covered in blood from a broken nose and blood from the fight. Even though he won, he couldn’t go back to his house because his mom would admonish him for this and Uncle Aaron was keeping watch so he went to your house.

You heard faint tapping on the window that you had assumed it was a bird, until the tapping became a loud knocking. You scurried up grabbing the nearest thing that looked like a weapon and went to the window. You found a battered Miles and knew something was wrong:

“Miles?”-you whisper shouted

“Ola mi amor” he said, trying to be suave but flinching in pain

You opened the window and let him in. You knew he was rough and bloodied up for a reason but it was late(or early depending on how you look at it) and you knew he wouldn’t tell you why; a small part of you also knew but chose not to acknowledge it. You just silently grabbed the first aid kit and patched him up as best as you could. You noticed he had a broken nose:

“Rough night?” You Said, trying to ease the tension

Miles didn’t reply, rather he looked at you through bruised eyes and simply nodded.

“Your nose is broken. You should probably go the the hospital for that” you said, nonchalantly

“Can’t you fix it?” He mumbled

“not easily” you mumbled, mocking his tone

He gave you an annoyed glare before saying:

“I’m sorry to come in late like this. And I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, Mami; it’s a lot going on that you wouldn’t understand and I’m trying to protect you.”

“It would’ve been nice for you to call or text” you said while closing the first-aid kit.

“I knew you would’ve worried about me and I didn’t want that” he said, hanging his head

“I’m your girlfriend, it’s my job to worry about you” you chuckled

It was like a Disney movie, Miles realized that if no one else would, you would hold it down for him and that you were gonna be there through thick and thin. He knew he loved you but this solidified it in his mind; he knew that if he survived long enough, you were gonna be his wife. It would be you waking him up everyday, it would be you kissing him goodnight and good morning, it would be you carrying and having his babies. Some days, he would wake up and wonder how he got so lucky with someone like you but he never thought too much into it because he knew he would find a way to sabotage it for himself but now, he didn’t care:

“I love you, Y/n” he said

“I love you too, Miles” you replied softly

“No. I mean like I love you so much that I can’t stand it, I wanna marry you, Y/n and be with you for life. If no one else has me, I know you do and I can’t even imagine myself without you.” Miles said

You started to tear up before crashing your lips onto his. Your lips moved in perfect sync as he grabbed your hips with one hand, and cupped your face in the other. You stayed this way for a while until Miles slipped his tongue into your mouth, battling for dominance against your tongue which he emerged victorious. He started moving his other hand to your ass as you moved yours to his chest when suddenly, you hear your parent call out:

“Y/n!!!”

“Yeah” you replied nervously, Miles leaving a trail of kisses down your neck

“Breakfast is ready” they shouted

You looked at your phone as Miles rubbed your back and saw it was 8:00 already.

“Shit” You Said under your breath, partly because of how Miles was making you feel

“Go Mamà, we’ll finish this later” he said against his neck

“Okay I love you, call me this time” you smiled

“Por supesto, Mami” he replied

You went down for breakfast and sat in your normal spot:

“Y/n?” Your parent said

“Yeah?” You replied

“What’s that on your neck?” They smirked

Damn it Miles

Translations

Por supesto- of course

#mcu fanfiction #miles morales headcannons #miles x reader #miles!prowler #miles morales x reader #miles morales #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x y/n #miles!spiderman #earth42!miles #earth 42 #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse spoilers #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman #spider verse #marvel #foryou

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angel-of-the-moons · 11 months

Text

Doppelgänger

Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Angst, self-image issues, mentions of childhood trauma, addiction, our mans has had it rough as fuck™

A/N: Brought on by this post from @tarjapearce and the comments i made (I'm sorry i am a ho for some angst sometimes) I'm merging ATSV stuff with comic stuffs because NO WAY IS HIS MOVIE DESIGN LIKE THAT ON PURPOSE WITHOUT IT POSSIBLY COMING UP IN FUTURE MOVIES ASDFGHJKL

Taglist: @tojishugetiddies

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

You came home and it was quiet. Quiet and dark; and already you knew something was up. You left Miguel sleeping so you could attend to some meetings and paperwork at your office, and pick up a few groceries.

Miguel had been acting strange the past few days. You'd asked him if it had something to do with work and he simply shrugged the question aside, like it was a small chip on one of his broad shoulders.

You'd asked him what was bothering him again, and he simply stared at the carpet, muttering something you didn't quite catch, and he went straight to bed.

You were so worried you'd even texted Gabriel on your walk home:

Hey, Gabe...

Heyyyy! If it ain't my favorite brother's girlfriend!

You couldn't help but roll your eyes with a soft snort. You only have one brother, Gabe.

No no, chica, I meant that you're my favorite of any girlfriends he's ever had. 😂

Gabe that sounds a little... Bad. 😬

Does it? Woops! Anyways, what's up? My big dumb, brick-house brother do something to make you mad?

No, Gabe... He's acting weird. Has been for the past few days, and he won't open up to me. I'm worried.

You could see the chat bubble pop up over and over again with '...' signifying that he was in the process of texting. With how many times it popped up and went away you were expecting a bible scripture's length of a text wall.

But what you got instead made your heart sink.

He saw our mom. She... She brought up Tyler.

Oh, god. You knew that Miguel and Conchata had a rocky relationship. Miguel had told you why. It was so bad, even just recalling everything, that you felt Miguel's pain like it was your own.

You also knew that Miguel's biological father, Tyler Stone, was the one that manipulated him, that used him, got him addicted to Rapture and almost killed him...

But it wasn't even the real dose of Rapture. It was simulated. Just another manipulation tactic. It was overhearing that conversation that Miguel found out the truth of his heritage, and you could tell that nugget of knowledge permanently chipped his sense of identity.

Even moreso when he confessed to you about Gabriela--

Your phone pinged.

They fought. It was... It was ugly. I... I didn't know about Tyler. God, chica, I didn't know. Dad was...

You felt your heart flop, knowing poor Gabriel was shielded by Miguel for so long so he didn't have to suffer like he did at the hands of their gaslighting and manipulative mother, his sadistic sperm donor... Miguel wanted nothing more than to protect Gabriel from that pain.

Your fingers flew fast on the little keyboard, a few spelling errors here and there;

God, Gabri im sory you had to fidn out that way

I know. It figures Miguel would have told you, before me, tho. He loves you.

He loves you too, Gabri. God, more than you know. He loves you.

I know. He was trying to keep me safe and out of Mom's drama.

No offense, Gabri, but if I ever see that woman I'm rearranging her face with a shovel.

OMG. I mean... After the things she said to Miggy, I... Kind of want her to at least feel consequences of her actions, y'know?

Oh, she will. Don't worry. Thanks for telling me this, Gabri.

Go cuddle my big brother and tell him I love him, k? Let me know how he's doing.

OMW home now, I'll text you when he's feeling better.

KK, see ya.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Yeah. You knew for sure Miguel was still heartbroken when you came home after that.

You put the groceries away, a somber expression on your face as a million thoughts went through your head.

God, of course Conchata had to come see Gabriel at the same time Miguel was there. You wouldn't be surprised if either she could have tabs kept on him, just to... to try and lord her power over him somehow, like he was still that scared little boy, holding onto his baby brother, being his shield and buffer from their parents' fights.

That bitch had to have had a hand in Tyler using him the way that he did, that she had to have known about--

Your mind was knocked away from those dark thoughts when you heard glass shatter.

You dropped the bag of apples onto the ground, the fruits tumbling out and rolling across the floor as you made a mad dash to your bedroom.

Noting Miguel wasn't in there, you turned to the adjoining bathroom door, seeing faint light come down from below, small wafts of steam rolling out.

"Miguel?" You frantically called out, knocking on the door and leaning your ear against the smooth metal.

You could hear shuffling and the tinkling of glass shards, as well as the shower running; but no verbal reply.

You knocked on the door again, hurried and a little too hard, your fingers hovering over the control panel.

Before you could push a button, the door slid open.

Miguel was in nothing but a pair of boxers, leaning over your bathroom sink, his hands gripping the marble countertops, threatening to crack the material. Beads of water rolled down his muscular, tanned skin; droplets of water dripped from the ends of his thick, wavy chocolate locks, the natural curls more apparent thanks to the water.

That's when you noticed it. Your bathroom mirror, shattered into a hundred pieces, scattering the counter, floor, and in the sink.

Bright, scarlet droplets were on the floor, steadily building into small puddle from his right hand, his knuckles split, shards of the reflective material sticking out of it.

"I'll pay for it." His voice croaked out, unable to lift his eyes to meet your horrified gaze. "I just--"

"Oh, god! Miggy!" You breathed, reaching out, taking a step towards him, only to wince and hiss when the pieces of broken mirror stabbed the soft, delicate soles of your feet.

You gritted your teeth as the glass crunched, but you grabbed Miguel.

Instantly it was like a switch flipped inside of him, Miguel's head snapped up and he looked down at you, seeing the bloody footprints you now left on your tile.

He looked terrified at what he was seeing. How you just ignored the shards in your body in favor of frantically digging around one of the cabinets for your first aid kit.

"Bebita... I..." Miguel choked out.

When you found it, you killed the shower and stepped into the glass once again, pulling him into your room, and onto your bed, your feet leaving bloody prints as you walked, like macabre rose petals being left in your wake. Miguel had a large enough stride that he was careful to avoid getting any in his feet, but the smell of your blood permeated the air, it made him sick to his stomach. Not with disgust.

With guilt.

Of course, you checked him over first, plucking out the shards of glass from his knuckles and cleaning the cuts out with wound wash, ignoring the blood welling up onto the tile floor of your bedroom from.

You carefully roll his hand as you try to wrap the gauze around his knuckles. "Miggy, can you hold your--"

"I'm sorry." He interrupts.

You looked up at him, and only then do you see his face. Framed in his wet curls, his face was shadowed and haunted, his eyes dark and as tumultuous in a maelstrom of anxiety and fear.

You bring your hand to his cheek, caressing one of his sharp cheekbones with your thumb. "Baby, it's okay. It's just a mirror, I can--"

He shook his head, as if your touch to his face burned him like a hot iron.

He leaned over, grabbing your legs and pulling your feet into his lap so he can assess the damage, and return the favor of cleaning and dressing them.

"You're hurt because of me." He whispered sadly, dabbing the blood away.

"I'm hurt because of the glass, honey." You tell him gently, letting him apply the "honey" to the cuts in your feet, sealing them.

His massive hands encapsulated your ankles, his thumbs rubbing small circles as the rough pads caressed your skin. Like you were made of the delicate gossamer of a butterfly's wing.

He sits like that, not meeting your eyes. And god, did that hurt you so badly. You knew how important eye contact was with Miguel, he almost always went out of his way to keep eye contact when he was conversing with someone. Having him avoid your eyes... hurt.

Because you knew he was hurting.

"Miggy." You breathed. "Talk to me."

You move your feet from his lap and scoot closer to him, moving your face until he locked eyes with you again, and you could see the pain and the tears fill his own as he looked at you; his full, pouty lips trembling in an effort to hold his emotions at bay.

His shoulders dropped low, and Miguel leans forward until he was practically bent in half, clinging to you, burying his face in your chest as he fisted your shirt in his hands.

You rubbed his shoulder with one hand, biting your lip as he softly cried into your blouse, your other hand combing through his messy wet hair.

You stayed like that, for what felt like hours. You weren't sure how long it was exactly, with the blackout curtains drawn and the lights off. The only light that dimly illuminated the room was from your bathroom, and the open door.

He finally calmed enough to speak, to explain why he shattered the mirror.

"...I look like him." Miguel said, his heart in his voice, his soul stripped down and naked with raw pain.

"Mig--"

"God, I look like him. That... that cabrón." He hissed, tugging your shirt in his fists.

"I look like that bastard that... that made me into this." The self-contempt in his voice broke your heart.

You kiss the top of his head, murmuring against him. "No, you don't, baby."

"Yes, I do!" He snapped, pulling himself away from you and throwing himself to his feet. He paced like an angry tiger in a cage, waiting to swat at whatever keeper dared enter his enclosure. He didn't notice that he was stepping into the sticky, dried blood trails you left.

"I have his--his face. His fucking face--" He said, gripping his hair in his hands, tugging as he started to hyperventilate. "My fucking nose, my fucking cheeks, my fucking lips--they're all him! I'm not allowed to be me, every time I look in the mirror I see him! I can't ever get away from him! He's a part of me, he always will be! I fucking look like him!"

You get to your feet, ignoring the throbbing in your soles as you dared to reach out, to touch the pacing tiger.

Your hands smooth up his back, gently, softly; then back down until they wrapped around his mid-section.

You feel him, how tense he is, how his muscles flex at your touch almost like he's bracing himself for some kind of blow that simply will never come from you.

You rest your cheek against his back, feeling how hot his skin was burning.

"Baby. You don't look like him. You aren't him, and you never will be." You whisper.

You plant kisses wherever you could reach, not letting him go, feeling his body shake with each shuddering breath as your soft lips made contact.

"More importantly, Tyler will never be you."

"I--"

You cut him off. "Listen to me... Did Tyler figure out multi-dimensional travel, build a strike force of super-powered people from across the multiverse? Does Tyler, almost every day, work to keep dozens--no, hundreds--of universes safe from monsters?"

He didn't answer.

"And did Tyler Stone protect your baby brother from your mother all these years?"

No answer.

"You are Miguel-goddamn-O'Hara." You tell him. "I love you, with trauma, quirks and all. I love your little scritch-scratches you make, the way your bottom lip pokes out when you pout, your crooked teeth when you smile. I love your ridiculously large body, I love how you hug me. I love the little snores you make when you fall asleep at your desk, how you crinkle your nose when you're about to sneeze.."

You feel his hands slowly rise to touch your arms where they're almost-locked around his larger frame.

"I love how sweet and gentle you are. I love hearing you curse to yourself when you shock yourself with your soldering gun... I love listening to you bicker with Lyla, or complain about one of the other Spiders bugging you." You place more kisses after each sentence; hoping each one plants a seed of love beneath his skin, to bloom into a garden that he can admire and love, not hate for the very skin he was born with out of illegitimacy and infidelity.

"Tyler Stone is not you. He never will be. He will never be as good as you." You sigh against his skin, feeling the goosebumps form in the cold of your room, now that the adrenaline of his anxiety was beginning to fade, and his body became aware of the water that was slowly drying and cooling his skin.

"I love you, Miguel O'Hara. You and no-one else. Don't ever think for a second that you don't have your own identity because of your genes."

He slowly turns in your grasp, looking down at you with raw, unclothed emotion as his hand touches your cheek.

"You're more than that. You're you, and I wouldn't have you any other way." You say, your tone set and jaw tight; every word you spoke carrying a hefty weight of seriousness and honesty.

He smiles, almost sadly as you feel the rough pads of his thumb against your cheek, the little talon there poking you but not breaking the skin.

"...I..." He said, his voice stiff as he swallows the lump in his throat.

"I really will pay for your mirror, you know."

You grin up at him and turn your face so you can kiss the palm of his hand.

"I know you will, Miggy."

"But I am curious... I felt like you were going to keep going with the affirmations." He said, raising an eyebrow slowly.

"Well, the last one..."

"The last one?" Miguel tilted his head down at you quizzically.

You grin at him again, your teeth showing and eyes creasing as you barely manage to reach around him, swatting his ass playfully.

"I also love the fact you have the nicest ass I've ever seen on a man."

He couldn't contain the snort that came out of him, and he reached up to cover his whole face with his other hand.

"Mierda..."

You giggle as you step around him, giving a playful swat to his ass once again as you walk by.

"C'mon, Miguel O'Hara. You got a broken mirror to clean up."

His shoulders lifted as he watched you, his eyes softer than you've ever seen as he smiled.

Yeah. You were right.

He was Miguel O'Hara.

And he was certainly going to pay you back for the smacks to his ass.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse

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