#this man makes my daddy issues SCREAM

[emjiroki]

Nanami is the husband that would be switch but lean more dom and would let you edge and tease him until he’s had enough and flips you over and does it his way until he’s satisfied (would love to hear your thoughts on this

He's such a Domestic Dom you know? Loves being your husband, Loves taking care of you, Loves loving you SWITCH NANAMI IS CANON!

He wants to watch you ride him and take him real deep but gets to choke you a little while you do it. Wants to feel the shiver reach his toes as you suck him off but he's got a strong hand holding (gripping) your hair so you know who's really in charge and leading.

The man to encourage you in a low voice when you're on your knees in front of him "Come on love, take me deeper" the drool running from your tightly stretched lips and the soft pat pat of it hitting his leather dress shoes dragging a deep groan from his chest, "that's my good girl"

I NEED THIS MAN NOW *gnawing at the bars of my enclosure*

[babygorewhore]

Daddy issues

After your dad is arrested, you try and beg for his job back. But Rafe Cameron decides another way for you to help your father. And his arrangement is different than you imagine.

Warnings! Daddy kink! Talks of violence! Slight reference to abuse! Choking! Blow job! Rough unprotected sex! Breeding kink! Virginity loss! Dirty talk!

You didnt know if you were more angry or surprised when you got the call from the officer that your dad was arrested and currently in jail for assault. You were finished working your late shift at the restaurant when your phone rang.

You screamed in your car on the way to the station. Your dad was a dead beat. An asshole who didn’t know how to fucking control his temper. Daddy dearest also liked to get loud with you, throw things when he didn’t get his way and one time he slapped you in the face.

You slapped him back and threatened to slash his tires. But the threat was empty considering he needed to work, which you had no idea how he kept his job at the docks while working for Rafe Cameron. It used to be his father Ward until his suicide. You’d met him often while picking your dad up, given you had to share a car.

He was…polite you could say. But he was also scary. He glared at everyone and he was short tempered. You usually heard him snapping or yelling if something wasn’t done right. Your dad complained about how strict he was.

But his status and wealth made everyone obey him and intimidated you. His attractiveness however was on another level. His height made you feel small and his blue eyes cut through people.

You slammed the door at the station and went to the desk. After signing in, you tapped your foot impatiently as an officer came up to you.

“Are you…?”

“My dad is here. He just got arrested.” You ground out. You hated being here. She nodded and looked at paperwork in front of her.

“Are you here to post bail?”

“I’m here to see if there’s any way we can clear this up as a misunderstanding.” You tried to plead but she shook her head.

“Ma’am, he attacked a man at a stoplight. He beat him up to the point he lost one of his teeth.”

You pressed your head against your hand. Jesus Christ it was worse than you thought. “How much is bail?”

She looked again at the paperwork. “Looks like we’re at 6,000 dollars.”

“What? I thought the bail was lower than that!” You shrieked.

“Ma’am. He also had multiple charges. Public intoxication, disturbance and assault. He caused a lot of trouble. I suggest you alert his job tomorrow. But until then, he’s going to spend at least 60 days in jail.”

You started crying. You couldn’t help it. It hurt so much. You couldn’t get a break. And now you’d have to face Rafe Cameron and face the humiliation of your dad being in jail.

You cried on and off the next day as you had to switch your schedule to the evening and make the phone call to your dads manager about his current situation. It was immediate termination and you broke down even harder in your bedroom. You refused to take his phone call, afraid you’d explode on him.

As you got ready for another dreaded work shift, your phone started ringing to a number you didn’t recognize. Hesitantly, you answered.

“Hello?”

“Your dads in jail, huh?” You immediately froze. It was Rafe’s voice. How did he-well he was capable of finding anything out.

“I-um. Yes. And he can’t work for you anymore. But if you’ll please reconsider. I know he’s a piece of shit but this is the only job he’s lasted out and we desperately need the money. I’m trying to get a car and we have to share one. I know this is probably pointless but I can’t help but try. So please, please take him back.” More tears came and you felt like a total cry baby but you pushed through.

You expected him to laugh but instead silence met you.

You bit your lip hard enough it bled.

“Meet me at my house. I’ll text you the address. I have a proposition for you.”

“Why can’t you tell me over the phone?” Your stomach tightened.

“Do you want me to help you or not?”

“Yes. Of course. I’ll be there.”

“Good girl.”

You set the phone down but seconds later his address came through in a text and your breath stopped short. He wanted to see you after work.

Five minutes before closing and after you finished cleaning, the drive to Rafe’s house wasn’t that far and now you knocked on his door. When he answered, you tried not to reveal how much you found him attractive. His hair was in his face and his eyes were glazed as he looked down at you. His fingers twitched and you imagined what he was doing with that hand…

Rafe gestured with his head for you to come in and you followed him inside the massive penthouse. He had everything you imagined. Expensive furniture, floors and lights.

You followed him to the kitchen where he pointed to the bar stool. “Have a seat.” He muttered.

You obeyed and watched as he circled the island in the center of the room. “So. You wanna save your dads job?”

“Yes. I’m willing to do anything-“ You stopped short when a smirk fell on his face.

“Anything?” Rafe challenged. “It looked like you hated him whenever I saw you talk to him.”

“It’s complicated.” You replied and his smirk grew into a cruel smile.

“Looks like someone has daddy issues.” Rafe countered and you crossed your arms.

“I-well when you put it that way-“

“I’m just bringing up what you’re telling me. Your dad beats the shit out of someone. He went to jail-and now you’re doing anything you can to fix it. Tell me if I missed anything.” Rafe’s voice was low and you hated that he was right.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound pushy. I’m just in a tight spot.”

“Oh I’m sure you’re in a…tight spot.” His meaning was clear and you swallowed.

That was the exchange.

“Look at you. Being a little smart girl and figuring it out. I’m gonna get to the point. You want me to take him back? Bail him out? I get to fuck you. Anywhere. Anytime. And anyplace I want. No condoms. No hidden birth control. No. I wanna see my cum leak out of that desperate pussy.”

Your mouth opened and closed. “I can’t just fuck a stranger. And no birth control? I can’t fucking get pregnant.”

“I’m a selfish whore, baby. And I can afford one. And those are my terms. Either that. Or your dad rots.”

You bit your lip. You weren’t in a position to say no. You needed the money. And Rafe was hot. There were worse guys. Rafe got closer, his big hands reaching to cup the side of your neck.

“Yeah? You want it?”

Slowly, you nodded.

Rafe crooked a finger, signaling you to come closer. You stepped down and approached him gingerly and looked into his gaze. Rafe then latched his hand around your throat. His grip was so strong your feet almost lifted in the air and your eyes widened as he crushed his lips to yours.

His lips devoured you as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You weren’t experienced. Sure, you’d touched yourself and made out with people.

But actual fucking? You’d never done that. And you knew that was about to change.

“You want me to take care of you, don’t you?” Rafe loosened his hold on your neck and pressed you against the island counter, “need someone to be your daddy?”

Your hands flew to his chest as you brought him impossibly closer, his lips sucked your skin with bruising force. You opened your mouth as he slipped his fingers inside.

“Suck.” He commanded and you listened. Spit gathering on your lips as he kneed your legs apart and lifted you up on the counter.

“Need daddy to help you? Fill you up with my cum?” His dirty words made your cunt twitch as he started toying the end of your skirt. Your thighs dampened as he trailed his thick fingers along your flesh, his fingers grazing the wet patch of your underwear.

You started grinding to give any friction against your arousal as he apparently changed his mind and threw you to the ground by underneath your arms. Rafe gestured to the crotch of his pants. “Consider this your first payment, baby. You ever done this before?”

You shakily remained silent as he huffed an amused laugh.

“Really? A girl who’s such a perv that she’s willing to fuck someone giving her money? Never would have guessed. I guess I’ll be nice and help you.”

Rafe undressed his lower half, his cock leaked with precum and he took your hand. “Swipe it with your thumb, get it all wet.” His massive hand compared to yours was almost comical as he grabbed the back of your head.

“Open your mouth, princess. And remember to breathe through your nose.”

After that, he silenced whatever worries you had by shoving his dick forward. You run your tongue along the thick underside, lessening some of the heavy weight by massaging with your hand. You took the tip through your mouth, shoving down any nerves as you sucked. Rafe bobbed your head up and down as he pushed you further, your head bouncing as your eyes squeezed shut.

“No, no, open your slutty eyes and look at me.” He growled. He leaned over the arch of the space between the counter and where you sank on your knees. The skin of his cock was supple as you continued aiding with your hand. It was hot to the touch.

“Good fucking girl. Maybe I’ll reward you by fucking your pussy.” He started thrusting and hitting the back of your throat. “Breathe. Breathe through your nose.” He wiped a few tears away with his thumb as you listened to him.

You knew he was getting closer as he stopped talking, his breathing heavier as he moved your head. His cum spilled inside your mouth, as he released you and you coughed.

“Not bad for your first time. We’re gonna practice some more.” Rafe smirked as his face was flushed and his fist flexed.

He moved on top of you on the floor, hiking up your skirt and ripping off your panties. He spread apart your wet cunt and dipped his middle finger inside your clenching entrance. “You’re such a whore. Never done any of this and you’re already gonna cum. Should have known you’d be daddy’s cum slut.”

Rafe yanked your legs apart, and spit on your pussy. “Not that it needed it, but I’m gonna be a little more kind to you.” You shrieked as he grabbed your jaw.

“Are you on birth control?”

“No.” You quickly answered. “Never-never needed-“

“Good. And you’re not going to. Got it?” Rafe moaned as he pushed his tip in your pussy, “fuck you’re so tight.”

You winced from discomfort but then his knuckles hit your clit, aiding to relieve your tension as he circled them. “Gonna make you mine. Take you away from all that shit.” He grunted as he pushed further.

Rafe let you wrap your arms around his neck as he thrusted.

“Tell daddy you like it.”

“I like it.” You sobbed as he moved harder. “I like it, daddy.”

It was slightly shameful how quickly you came all over him and spilled onto your legs. Rafe also came again and you felt it inside you. He was serious about no protection.

He stayed for a few seconds before getting up. And pulling his pants back on. He extended his hand and pulled you up. You knew you were a sight to be seen, fucked out eyes and messy hair. You just lost your virginity to Rafe Cameron.

You cleared your throat and watched him sweep his eyes over your face. “So. My dad?”

He shrugged. “He’s already out.”

You paled. “What?”

“I posted bail a few minutes before you got here. But as for his job, you’re gonna have to work harder than that. I have conditions.”

“But I already said-“

“More than just fucking you, baby girl. I own you now. You are mine and no one gets to even think about fucking you. I will cross any line you make to keep me away. And if you try, I will punish you.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” You whimpered as he loomed over you.

“And?” He mocked. “You already agreed. You need me. Don’t you?” He cupped your jaw. Tightly but not as harsh.

“Yeah.” You leaned in to his touch. Your defenses are completely down. You needed care. You were always working. Always cleaning up after someone’s mess. And now…he was going to take care of you.

And either make your daddy issues better.

Or worse.

@xxhellfirebunnyxx @imyourdaninow @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @slvt4jamesmarch @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @scene-and-dandylover @emsgoodthinkin

[neteyamsilly]

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. 

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily @n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

[a-sapphic-love]

🧴-bodyguard els!

summary: in which the reader's father is a celebrity, so he gets reader a bodyguard for protection! ellie sees through the protests and rebellion, and she knows exactly how to get you to admit what you want.

warnings: MDNI!!!!, bratty!reader, lowkey spoiled!reader, brat tamer! ellie, smuttt, nipple play, degrading, nipple piercing, bodyguard!ellie, bdsm, power dynamics, teasing, lowkey daddy issues!reader, probably more that i forgot to list

the people have spoken! most requested from my last poll💞

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"what the fuck do you mean I'm getting a bodyguard!? you can't be serious!" you scream, fuming at your dad for his latest antics. you usually keep your cool, but he's never said anything this stupid before.

a bodyguard? what for?

you're so annoyed he's taking this step, sure he's famous and you're pretty reckless- so what? you're not a small child, you're grown and you can take care of yourself!

your father, on the other hand, seems not to care- like usual. he keeps that same blank stare as you unleash your rage, and once you pause to catch your breath, he excuses himself.

too busy with the next brand deal, or advertisment, or magazine column. soo frustrating!

you can't believe him, buying you some guy to follow you around and make sure you live the dullest, most monotone life possible! this is truly a nightmare!

before the bodyguard even arrives, you're thinking of ways to scare him off. you could completely torment him, maybe bring as many girls home as possible and get touchy. or maybe you could pretend like he hurt you! that would rile your father up!

by the day you finally meet your new incarcerator, you're sure you'll have him gone in less than a month. you know it won't be long before it's back to programming as usual.

except, something unexpected happens. you're introduced to the bodyguard, and instead of some pervy, buff man, you find a woman standing before you.

a very pretty woman.

you didn't plan for this, and it frustrates you even more that you father somehow managed to be one step ahead this time. this woman made you nervous before you even knew her name!

you have to keep your mean façade up, though, so you make sure to say something snarky. "so you're the woman who signed up to act like my babysitter.. how much is he paying you, huh?", you snicker in her face, and she just smiles.

"good money, that's for sure. my name is ellie, what's yours?", she says, walking you into your apartment. you don't even want to look at her, because it gets you all flustered.

you're surprised she doesn't say anything about your silence- she's not trying to control you yet. you're tired of the quiet.

you run into your bedroom, flopping on the bed and groaning in annoyance at the sight of ellie in the doorway. "my room doesn't even have windows- what could even happen?! can I get some space!" you yell out into the doorway, and ellie just nods before walking off. what?

she... listened?

the next few weeks are beyond what you could ever have imagined. ellie doesn't invade your privacy, she barely even bothers you, and she's discreet whenever you both go out.

it starts to annoy you how well the whole bodyguard thing is working out. because it means your father was right about this being a good choice, and you can't stand for your father to be right.

so you get even more reckless. more drinking, more nights out, more ellie having to drag your sloppy drunk self home. even so, you never heard a word of complaint- in fact, she took any chance she could find to get closer with you. it was getting irritating.

but if you couldn't take ellie down, the least you could do is a big fuck-you to your dad. let him know you can never let him win!

the press has had a field day with the relationship between you and your father, and the many rebellious stunts you've pulled before. you've gotten tattoos, some facial piercings and you weren't against most body mods.

however, you'd never done anything really scandalous. nothing like getting a nipple piercing.

you were fairly drunk one night, stumbling home with ellie's arm just barely propping you up, when you passed by your favorite piercing store. you were the most impulsive when you were drunk, and as soon as you saw that shop, you floundered right over.

so many kinds of piercings, but all you wanted was a nipple piercing- and you wanted it bad.

so bad, that ellie couldn't stop you when you got it done. she defeatedly paid before taking you home, but you noticed a glint in her eye.

the next day, ellie sat you down on your bed after your shower, and asked about the piercing. "does it hurt? is it sensitive?" she asked in a careful voice. you wanted to give her attitude soo bad, but not when she acted so caring.

you tried to just brush her off, but eventually she cut to the chase. "listen, you know im here to protect you, right? it's really not safe to... be so impulsive. i know you find me irritating. but please, just let me help you... you can listen this one time?" she says, with such saccharine eyes you couldn't help but melt.

"right! yeah, sure, just... what- what do i need to do?" you asked. she was just being so nice, it made you so flustered....

thats why you listened when she asked if you could let her see the piercings. even though letting her see your bare nipples was... humiliating, warmth was spreading in your underwear as well on your face. shit- you were aroused?!

ellie seemed so kind, gently inspecting the piercing. your nipples had always been sensitive, so they were even worse pierced. just feeling them rub against your shirt made your body tingle.

"there we go, you're going to let me help you clean 'em, right?" ellie said, voice nearly a whisper. you were willing to let her do anything- so you nodded quickly.

ellie used some cotton pads that were wet with saline solution, before just feeling your nipples with her soft fingers. she noticed the blissed out look in your eyes, and that's when she decided to stop. "alright, you're all clean! you did such a a great job, y'know.." she said, in a whispery voice.

you wanted to scream. you wanted to whine, beg for her to keep touching you, but you started to feel bad. she was just trying to help you clean the piercing, wasn't she?

"wait, what's wrong?" ellie says, pausing in the middle of putting the supplies back. "did I hurt you?" she asks, and your brain begins to short-circuit. this much affection from a girl has been previously unheard of, and it just all feels too good... your brain is so fuzzy...

ellie understands when a small whine escapes your lips. "wait... something going on here?'" she says, narrowing her eyes. she has you right where she wants you.

you stumble over your words, trying to make excuses for your flusteredness, but ellie doesn't hear any of it. "what, you really feel that way about your bodyguard?", she leans in and whispers.

you can't deny the attraction you've had to her for a while. anyway, you won't get what you want if you do.

"that- right, I'm sorry, just let me deal with this really quick," you say breathlessly. you can't bear to tell her what you really feel. it's too bad, then, that she has every intention to make you.

"no, don't worry... I can help you. just say it. tell me what you want me to do..." she whispers, before getting up from the bed with a cocky smile you've hardly seen before. you can tell she's waited all too long for this.

"ellie... els, shit, I... need you to help me over here..." you whine, hand resting on your soaking cunt. you just want ellie to fill you up.

luckily, she takes that as enough begging. you don't even realize it when your clothes are gone, or when she has you bent over the bed.

her fingers slip in and out of your sticky folds, lighting your skin on fire. all you can think of is how bad you want her.

her warm tongue abuses your clit, her hands have a bruising grip on your thighs. she has your legs shaking and your head spinning.

"js'sso pretty down here, right sweetness?" she mumbles, giving your ass a light slap before getting up and undressing herself. a thick, 8-inch marbled strap made its way out of her boxers, and you practically drooled.

but you'd taken many straps before, 8 inches wasn't too bad for you. so you got cocky. "what, only 8? you sure you don't have something bigger?" you sneered, and a look flashed in her eyes.

"there she is, the brat is back isn't she?" she chuckled. her hand snaked down your back teasingly, before pressing your back into a deeper arch. you groaned at the pressure, but it wasn't too much.

"you gonna p-put it in already?" you say, voice wavering. ellie looks kind of scary, like she's been waiting for you to brat.

her hands grip your hips, and you feel the strap slide in. it's definitely got some girth to it, but what's really shocking is how fast ellie slams it in suddenly. so fast, you feel like you can taste her in your mouth.

"come on, where did the attitude go? i thought 8 inches was nothing for you?" she whispers in your ear, sliding in and out at a harsh pace. you can't even speak, body shaking as she fucks you relentlessly.

one of her hands is playing with your nipple, and the other is gently rubbing circles on your clit. "els- ellie, please.." you choke out. she's going so roughly, but you feel like you're about to cum all over yourself.

"you know, you act so insufferable... celebrity's daughter, thinking she can treat people like shit, because what? 'cause her daddy doesn't pay enough attention to 'er?" she says, groaning at how tight you're squeezing the strap.

" 'm so sorry els- shitt, ellie, please..." you whimper, but she just gives your thigh a light smack. "you're sorry, huh?" she mocks, before grabbing your face and kissing all over your lips. "you gonna be good now, right? 'cause bad girls don't get to cum!" she grunts, slamming her hips into yours even harder. your cum is running down your legs, a creamy mess that gets your thighs all sticky and tacky.

"mhm, m'gonna be so good for you els! please, please just let me cum..", you mumble, shoving your face into a pillow because you're just so needy that you put your defenses down.

"good- shit, good fucking girl." she coos, giving your sloppy wet cunt multiple light slaps. "you gonna cum? come on baby, you can do it..."

for a second, everything is misty. your legs shake and go weak, stuffing you even fuller of ellie's thick strap. creamy, sticky squirt sprays all over the bed, while ellie's grip on your hips tightens.

"shit, you- you feel so good..." she mumbles, before nearly collapsing on top of you from the intensity of her own orgasm.

you lay on the bed, out of breath, when suddenly she leans in close from behind you and whispers something.

"round two?"

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[adventuringblind]

Ma Belle

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: Mafia AU, fluff

Summary: an arranged leads to a few struggles. The main one being that Max and Charles can only seem to summon their wife with her favorite movie.

Dialouge prompt: "It's okay baby, you're safe with us." "Yes we can watch the same movie for the millionth time, love."

Warnings: arranged marriage, daddy issues

Notes: part of my 1000 followers event. Requests are open again for regular asks btw (poly, lando, oscar, charles, Max, daniel, and logan for sure, and Liam and Carlos, depending on the request)👀

Masterlist

Being a bargaining chip had been her purpose. The only reason she was born. In the possibility some kind of treaty needed to be made, she would be there.

So she learned how to be perfect. How to look the part her father needed her to. Played the game that everyone in this line of work plays.

Regardless of if everything in her mind is screaming to back out and run away as they sign the papers. She's being married off to not just one man, but two men who she doesn't know. They know each other. They'd supposedly been in her situation and have been married for a while already. They look at her with Kindess. A Dutch named Max and a Monegasque names Charles. A sympathy maybe only They can share with her.

She closes herself off the second they are alone. She is nothing more then a possession. A piece on the board for if things go wrong. These two don't actually want her and they already have each other. Why is she even here? Because of some treaty?

She ignores them. Keeps her distance. Pretends they don't exist. All the while watching the same move over and over again when they aren't around to hear.

Beauty and the Beast is her comfort movie. The one consistent in her life apart violence and backwards politics. She's not sure where it came from, the love for this movie. Maybe it's the comfort she finds in knowing she's not the only one locked away for some underlying purpose.

Max and Charles, to their credit, attempt to make am effort while not scaring her further away. They offer food at her door when she doesn't want to come out. They make attempts to show her affection. They give her space when she needs and don't push for more them she is willing to give.

Max and Charles weren't supposed to be home until later. Out on 'buisness' which code for something probably illegal. Which means, she wraps herself up in a blanket and makes her way to the television. She puts on her comfort movie and promptly passes out after a having a sleepless night in her own bed.

When the two males return, they find her asleep with the movie long forgotten. They don't move her, but instead restart the film. They stay with her until she wakes.

The shock hits first and then something like bewilderment follows. She eats with them after that and even keeps up some light conversation.

They tell her that the situation isn't ideal, but they made the most of it and intend on doing the same with her. They comfort and hold. They keep her safe when she needs it. They spoil her when she lets them.

But most importantly, they watch the same movie with her over and over again.

On this particular occasion, she was coming home from a visit with her father. The man who basically abandoned her with unfamiliar men for the entirety of her life. It left her feeling drained and insecure. She had been prepared for this her entire life and somehow she wasn't treating Max and Charles like she knows a good wife should.

She collapses on the couch. She pays no attention to anything else and just sobs. You'd think she was injured. Maybe even dying. Though this certainly felt like death. The idea that Max and Charles will leave her one day, send her back to her father who will find some other way to use her. It makes her stomach churn.

The two males take in the scene before them. Charles hastily fumbles for the the remote and sets up the movie they've watched almost everyday for a month now. He it man enough to admit its grown on him and he has the lyrics of every song memorized and working on turning it into piano music. Max sets about getting the female upright. She goes unwilling and ends up with her head in Max's lap.

"liefde, what's got you in tears?" Max makes an attempt at drying her tears only for more to show up.

She hiccups a few times. "I'm not a good enough wife, but I'll do better I promise. Just, please, don't send me back."

Charles joins the on the couch and runs nimble fingers along her skin. "Did something happen with your father to make you think that?"

"He used to make me pretend to be a wife to some of the men who work for him." Her eyes get cloudy thinking back to the memories. Her childhood was not one she looks back at fondly. "I just want to be enough."

"Dry your tears." Max starts before she can spiral again. "It's okay, baby, you're safe here with us. You're trying your best, and we know this kind of situation isn't easy. Just let us show you we care, yes?"

She looks up to see the movie ready to be played. The soft music in the background instantly calms her. "You don't mind?"

"We can watch the same movie for the millionth time, amour." Charles laughs softly when he sees her smile. "It really is a good movie."

"Charles is jealous." Max smirks playfully. 

A genuinepang of curiosity hits her. "Of who?"

"Belle, because I'm the beast and he's obviously Gaston."

"Why am I Gaston?!"

"Because you wear red all the time, duh."

[dilfl0v3rss]

annoying things they do

𝑜𝑛𝑦

- doesn’t let you sleep in unless he’s sleeping in too. like this nigga would literally wake you up at eight am. durag, plaid pajama pants, and hoodie on. with his keys jingling in his hands on some, “ma get up we going to the store.”

- goes through a bottle of juice in less than two days. you literally have to buy him his own minute made and orange juice because if the two of you share it’ll be gone so quick.

- steals a lot of words and phrases from you, and they’re either used so wrong that you laugh or so right that you’d have no choice but to stand in shock. like he’d come home from the barbershop and go up to you like, “like my cut ma? it’s eating rightttt?” and you’d just be standing there like how do you know how to use that?

- this man is greedy. like all of them are greedy, but ony is a different type of greedy. he would never eat your food without permission, but let you open up a bag of chips around him. the next thing you gon see is his big ass hand in your face on some, “lemme get one” or if you eating a burger or a slice of pizza and he see you enjoying it. he’s in your face immediately. “lemme get a bite ma. shit look mad good.”

- smacks your ass so damn hard. like when y’all are having sex it’s not really an issue, but why is he sending you flying at eleven in the morning while you’re making eggs.

𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤

- says the dirtiest shit in your ear and just walks away after. he doesn’t care where y’all are either. you could be walking through the baby section of walmart just because it’s the fastest route to where you needed to go and he’d come up behind you, making you stop in your tracks as he put his hand on top of where yours were gripping the cart, dick print all on your ass while he whispers in your ear. “keep screaming ‘nut in me daddy’ while i’m fucking you and soon you gon be buying shit from here”. you didn’t even get to reply because once you moved to turn around he backed up from you and kept walking.

- always wants to finger you while he’s driving. especially if you have a sundress onnnn. he don’t care how long or short the drive is, you’re going to cum before y’all get to the destination. and it be so random because he asks so plainly like “ma pull your dress up. wanna play wit her”. not even looking away from the road. you’d try to talk him out of if, but ony doesn’t care. “ion care if we five minutes away. i could make you cum in two.”

- will fuck you literally anywhere. if you tease him you have about ten minutes to fix it or he’s going to fix it himself. which means taking you literally anywhere so he can get what he wants. sometimes you don’t even have to tease him. all it really takes is a pretty outfit and some nice perfume and he’s on you. he’s fucked you in fitting rooms, club bathrooms, party bathrooms, his old bedroom at his moms house, and the list goes onnn. if you looking good he’s on that ass.

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑒

- heavy sleeper like it’s ridiculous. the first few minutes of him sleeping he’ll probably wake up if he hears something, but once he’s been sleep past an hour there is no waking that man up.

- literally bites you. if you point in his face he’s going to try to bite your finger. if y’all are play fighting and he gets on top of you he’s going to try to bite your neck. when y’all are chilling and he’s laying on your ass he’s going to eventually bite it. he has a serious problem.

- mocks your moans or plays your tapes out loud around the house if he feels that you’re “playing” with him. so if y’all are going back and forth don’t even bring up anything about his dick because he will use your moans against you.

“that’s not what you was saying last night. what happened to, ‘oh my god papi your dick so biggg’ and ‘please daddy i wanna have your baby’?”

or if y’all just got done arguing and you decide to just walk away and start cleaning (i clean when i’m mad). you’d be washing the dishes and out of nowhere just start hearing pornographic slaps and moans being played on the house speaker.

“daddy pleasee m’so sorryyy.*slap slap slap slap* you sorry ma? *slap slap slap* y-e-sssss fuckkkk.”

you’d sprint from the kitchen to the living room where connie was sitting, just sitting there rolling up like the whole house doesn’t sound like a scene off of pornhub. you’d try to snatch the phone from him, but he’d move his hand and get up. putting the phone high in the air so you can’t reach. “connie you bet-”

“say you sorry and i’ll turn it off”

- sometimes he’ll purposely not kiss you back when you kiss him. just letting you move your lips on his while he keeps his in a straight line to piss you off.

- just starts randomly acting like you. like you could be getting something from the fridge and he’ll walk up to you, chest full of tattoos, sweats sagging on his waist, holding up his phone. “girllll you really ate the girls up wit your new ig post. the fit is giving rich gyalll.”

𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤

- eats you out for sooooo long. like he doesn’t care if you are screaming crying or passed the hell out. only when he feels like he’s done will he stop. if you try to stop him he’ll just say “it’s not about you mami. this for me” and then continue to remove your soul from your body.

- will purposely hit the wrong spots inside you when you piss him off. they aren’t particularly bad spots, but he knows you’ll never cum from him hitting them. of course you’ll complain about it because you know he’s doing it on purpose. “con s-stop ittt!” but of course he just has something smart to say back to you. “stop playin in my face and maybe i’ll hit it right.”

- another one that’ll fuck you anywhere, but he’s worse with it. he’s fucked you on the side of the road one night. passenger door open with you bent over the seat while he fucked you from outside of the car. he gives no fucks.

- is always breaking something. you tried to cuff him one time while you gave him head. he broke the cuffs…and it didn’t stop there. he’s broken two headboards, one of your nails, your glasses, and almost all of your waist beads while fucking you.

𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛

- if you piss him off before going to bed he’s going to take your bonnet right tf off while you asleep. then will proceed to laugh at you in the morning while your yelling cursing about your hair being fucked up.

- randomly starts yelling song lyrics. like y’all could be sitting on the couch and your bones would literally shake in your body cause he thought it would be okay to yell pop smoke lyrics out of nowhere.

-bends you over and starts acting like he’s fucking you. like if you’re making a tiktok while he walks in the room he will literally push you down by the back of your neck and start “drilling” your shit in the camera.

- wakes you up just to make you do stupid shit. you would be sleeping like a baby just to be shook up by his big ass hands on your shoulders. you’d wake up in a panic and he’d go “mama. mama look! the obama’s need our help we gotta get the men in black and shoot the aliens cmon!” and of course your confused ass is gon get up, taking the broom he handed to you and going into the living room to “fight”. when you realize what he said and turned towards him, he was already well into laughter. watching you mumble curses under your breath before walking back to your room.

𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤

- if you’re the one coming to him for sex he’s going to make you work for it. he loves when you take the initiative, getting on top of him and taking what you need. it was the sexiest thing in the world so now if you want it you have to come get it. if you try to whine about it he’ll just tell you, “s’your dick mama. if you really wanted it you would take what you need instead of just having daddy fuck you silly all the time.”

- teases you soooo much. whether it be standing real close behind you, staring at you with that sexy look on his face or just straight up choking you, tonguing you down, then walking tf away. aran lovessss to tease you.

- if he sees you getting a little too “friendly” with a guy he will make you call them while he’s fucking you. purposely hitting all of your favorite spots so a moan or two can slip just so they can know that you will always be his. he’ll also make it very known that he’s the one fucking you.

“uhh huh. ask em how his day was mama” he’d say in a breathless tone. loving the way your ass bounced off his lower stomach. “h-how was your day?” your friend wouldn’t know whether to be horrified or turned on at the situation. clearly the latter since he began to palm himself through his pants on the other end of the phone.

if they choose to stay friends with you that’s fine because aran knows that every time they see you they’ll think of him.

- sometimes will make you watch him eat you out, knowing that it always made you cum faster when you’d watch him slowly let his spit drip from his mouth to your clit.

𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑘𝑎

- sucks a massaging feet. one minute he’s rubbing and squeezing the tension from them, then the next minute he’s trying to put them in his mouth or he’s putting them in the chokehold while tickling the fuck out of them.

- do not let this man buy you a pair of sneakers. he will watch you like a hawk, just itching for you to do something wrong so he can cay something.

“mama don’t walk like thatttt. you gon crease themmm”

“baby pay attention where you walkin. could’ve been stepping in shit like five times and you wouldn’t know a thing.”

tanaka has so many different sneakers and treats them like babies so when he buys you a pair you need to treat them that way as well or it physically pains him.

- bumps his head all the timeeee. you have to watch this man around the house or the next thing you know you gon be hearing “OWW…shit that hurt!” cause he bumped his head on the corner of the kitchen island while picking something up.

𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤

- always eats you out before and after sex. doesn’t care if you shaking and pushing his head away because your “too sensitive”, after he gets done fucking you he’s going to eat you out. whether he nut in you or not

- purposely fucks you harder when he knows people can hear. loves the embarrassed/shy face you make while getting dressed after he’s finished knocking the mario coins out of your pussy in your grandmas bathroom at your family barbecue.

- if y’all fuck after arguing he makes you repeat everything you said while you were mad while he’s pounding you into the mattress.

“say it ma. repeat what you said t’me”

“y-you not the o-only n-nigga i need shittt”

“now is that true?”

“nuh uhhhh. s’not true daddy”

“then if i hear it again ima fuck you even harder cause not only are you being disrespectful, but you lying too”

- will fuck you like the meanest nigga on earth. i’m talking slapping your ass so hard you actually seen hints of red in your skin, spitting all in your mouth, choking you while giving you light slaps on the face to keep you from passing out, then will have the audacity to go hop on the game all giddy and happy like you weren’t still on the bed trying to remember your name and who you were.

[littlemelaninfics]

Ma’am I currently have covid so I’m chillin my room & was wondering if you could possibly take the time out to write some disrespectful dirty af smut for my mans Colby? Like make up sex type shet 🥵🥵😏😏

Thank you boo 💝

(gif not mine)

You tried explaining the whole way home that women gawk at him all the time and that you got used to it, but he's having none of it.

This all started at the award show we went to tonight. One of his fellow creators was making googly eyes at your cleavage the whole night and Colby took notice. What drove it home was when we pulled into the driveway and our neighbor Joseph made a comment about how we both looked nice, me especially.

Colby shook his head with his signature smirk and I knew I would have to be doing some groveling tonight.

Joseph has caused issues with us before as he's in his early 40's, a well respected surgeon with 2 Ph.d's, a Doctorate and easy on the eyes. This causing Colby to feel inferior when a "chode nose having, geriatric, Chris Hansen's most wanted grown ass man with an end of adolescence fetish" shamelessly flirts with you in front of him like he's better than him.

"Sam and I have businesses too."

"I know, baby."

"I'm fucking damn near 20 years younger than him and I'm well respected in my field, I'm with the woman I'm going to spend the rest of my life with, I have the best fucking friends, I've traveled, I've won awards AND I was Joe fucking Rogen's podcast. He is not better than me," he said looking you directly in your eyes.

Once his rant was over, you grabbed the sides of his face as a way to calm him down knowing his anger wasn't directed at you. This was 8 months ago, 3 weeks after you moved in

Tonight he walked through the door with a huff, not bothering to hold it open.

"Um, thanks. Dick." I called out to him when I stopped the door from slamming in my face. I saw him swallow some of what was in his glass before speaking for the first time in a long while,

"You love that shit, don't you?"

I stop in my tracks and turn to face him,

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Them! All of them looking at you. One of which lives right next door. You fuck him yet? Is that why he's trying so hard to be my friend with that condescending, shit eating grin?"

"You're drunk and I'm going to bed. I already said I was sorry for my tits being on full display. What do you want me to do? Get a reduction?"

He brought his glass to his lips once more and raised his eyebrows.

"Fuck. You." I turned back around to stomp up the stairs to decompress. I take off my jewelry and shawl before unzipping the gown I'm in.

I walk in the bathroom and turn on the water. I go under the sink grabbing my favorite body wash and take a much needed shower. When I exit I see Colby undressing at the dresser, facing the mirror.

I know he didn't mean it in the slightest, but I'm still upset about what he suggested about my breast size so I decide to put on a show for someone who enjoys them in all their glory. Still in my towel, I saunter over to my side of the dresser and grab my favorite body lotion.

In that time, I notice Joseph's office light is on and the blinds are cracked. I walk over to our curtains and open them before sitting on the bed.

To anyone else, it looked like I wanted to let the city lights in, but he knew. They both did. Colby eyed me in the mirror before looking out the window.

Without a single word, he drags me along out to our balcony where the cool air heats up. He bends me over the balcony and slaps my ass. Colby pulls down my panties and inserts himself into me.

He grabs my neck and forces me to arch my back as he pounds into me.

"What's my name?"

"Dick."

He grabs my hair, “What’s my name, Y/N?”

“Daddy.” I whimper

“I can’t hear you, princess,” my body shudders and my pussy gets wetter as his grip tightens around my neck.

“Daddy!” I scream out.

“That’s right. Who else makes you feel this good? Hmmm? Tell me.”

I move my arm back to try to slow him down a bit, but he moves it away. I stand up straight and Colby wraps his free arm around my waist pushing his dick further up into me. My eyes roll the back of my head. He moves to my ear and I can hear his heavy breathing,

“Answer me”

“You, Colby! Fuck I’m gonna cum!" My vision starts to go dark and he chuckles,

“No you’re not, Baby. You’re gonna hold it like a good girl.” I whine at his words and dig my nails into his tensed muscular thigh.

He exits me and jacks off, letting my cum drip over off his tip. His head falls back at the sensation before making his next command,

“On the chair ass up” I go over to the chair and place my hands on the arm rests. He smacks my ass and I moan. My legs shake as I bite my lip. I feel Colby enter me again this time a little slower. Making me feel the length of his pulsating cock.

He gives that first good thrust, having my ass bounce back on him which only prompts him to smack it more.

“Daddy that feels so good” I stand on my tippy toes and arch my back further down.

“Bounce on me baby” I begin meeting his thrusts. He slips out of me, but immediately puts it back in getting my closer to my orgasm.

“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he plays with my clit making me shake.

“Can I please cum daddy please.”

“Hold it” he demands. He pounds harder and my eyesight gets weaker.

“Ugh daddy please” my body rattles and Colby cums balls deep in me. I can’t hold it anymore and I squirt over our feet, inevitably pushing him out. I scream out his name when he flicks his still hard cock over my soaking clit, dragging out the streams of ecstasy. I see Joseph's lights go off, but I don't care. I feel lips press to my shoulder blade with a slight bite and chuckle. Colby knows he won.

“That’s it, baby. I want it all over me," he smirks before sinking to his knees and lapping me up with licks and slurps. He stands back up and spins me around to make me taste myself. To my surprise, he spits the mixture of our cum into my mouth with the darkest eyes I've seen.

My knees go weak and I moan into his mouth. His hand wraps around my throat one more time,

“You’re mine don’t forget that," he says. Leaving me naked and spent out in the crisp Summer night.

a/n: there is a sentence that says Joseph is into women who are at the end of adolescence and and i just wanted to hat it noted that adolescence doesn't end until 24 years old

[farfromstrange]

Daddy Issues | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Inspired by this song.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: There are some scars from our childhoods that just won't heal, like daddy issues will somehow always affect our relationships, especially with men. It's the trauma that makes us afraid. Matt Murdock is a considerate boyfriend and he hardly ever raises his voice, so when he lets his anger out on you, he triggers something in you that you have never told him about.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of child abuse, daddy issues (not the sexy kind), childhood trauma, yelling, crying, small injury (reader cuts her finger), not proofread

A/n: This is entirely self-indulgent. I won't tell you why exactly, but let's just say today was not a good day and I needed to write this to feel better. It helped, for the most part. If you have/had a father who yells a lot and likes to blame you for everything, this is for you. But also basically everyone who's afraid of men yelling at you because you've been traumatized before. This has not been proofread or beta-d. It’s just a silly little comfort fic.

Tags: (people who answered the original idea and I think would enjoy this or asked to be tagged)

@igotanidea @lina-mar @redzie02 @hellskitchens-whore

[not my gif, credits to the owner mentioned under the gif]

In the heat of the moment, some people raise their voices. May it be a fight or a moment of excitement. When we get angry, we often resort to a louder volume and sometimes even verbal abuse. We say things we don’t mean. We wouldn’t be human if that didn’t happen sometimes, although most fights can be resolved by talking civilly. There is no point in screaming when talking like adults is a viable option that won’t hurt anyone. But it hardly ever happens, not when both parties are already worked up to the point of no return.

For you, there has not been a fight or discussion in your life that hasn’t resulted in a screaming match. Your parents often yelled at each other. You grew up like this, the voices of your fighting parents constantly in the back of your head until the day they divorced. And even after that, you figure you started hallucinating their fights whenever the world went quiet around you so you would have some noise in the back of your head.

Your father was the one who screamed the most. He yelled and scolded you whenever you didn’t act according to his standards or made even the smallest of mistakes, didn’t do something or just used the wrong tone with him, something that often didn’t sit right with him.

He always resorted to screaming. The context never really mattered, he just got louder, harsher and he used words that would confuse every kid and make their tiny brains overflow with the guilt they caused. And when you cried, he only waved it off because “there is no reason to cry, I’m just stating the facts”.

It traumatized you in a way many children who grew up in such families understand, and he made you believe that every man in your life has a reason to yell at you, to use you, to abuse you and constantly ask you for things even though you can’t possibly match up to all of their expectations.

You always expect to be yelled at by the men in your life. Even the smallest hint of the disappointment in someone’s voice makes you anxious and more often than not, you start to cry. It’s your defense mechanism. You’re fragile and you get scared easily. A switch gets flicked and you’re suddenly standing in the same house you grew up in, letting your father rain hell down on you because you were too scared to fight back.

The constant screaming made you scared of men, and it made you more careful with what you say or do around others. You tread carefully. You try to please and not to screw up too much, too scared of the consequences and possible negative reactions. In school, you used to do the same, always wanting to please the teachers and when they raised their voices, you often excused yourself and were left shaking and crying in the bathroom. 

Matt Murdock has always been a man with a heavy internal conflict, and that conflict resulted in anger issues and his ever-present catholic guilt. When you met him, he came across as attractive yet dominant, and that scared you a little until you talked for the first time in the middle of a cozy coffee shop and he showed how soft of a man he actually is. He keeps himself locked away and that might make him seem unapproachable, but he isn’t. He’s the kindest man you have ever met, and his heart is set right. Out of all the lovers you’ve had, he is truly the best and most considerate when it comes to your relationship.

He treats you like you’re the universe to him and when you fight, it’s more often bickering than it is an exchange of vulgarities and screams. He takes his anger out on punching bags, not you, and when he hurts someone, it’s often criminals who deserve his wrath. His life is complicated, but it’s easier with you in it. He feels alive, he’s told you, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world, so he always makes sure you’re taken care of and happy before he looks after himself.

There is, of course, the issue with his enhanced senses. He’s blind but his senses are enhanced to an extent that most blind people don’t have. You found out about that early on in your relationship, but there’s never been a doubt in your mind about the love you feel for him, so it was no hard choice to stay.

Though dating the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its collection of issues. More often than not you have to stitch him up or search him in dark alleys and trash cans because he keeps getting in trouble, and the worry often eats you alive. Still, you comfort him when he’s had a bad day, always, and you make him the spotlight of your life every time. In your mind, taking care of him comes first.

But Matt always gives back. It’s his Catholicism, you’re sure of that. He can’t take help. He has to be the one doing the work and moving mountains. He is God’s disciple and he feels responsible for his city and the people living in it. His blindness feels like a gift given to him by God to conquer all possible battles, and while you don’t really believe in God, you have accepted that part of him with open arms and more often than not join him in his faith because life with him is surely not the easiest.

When Matt Murdock feels overwhelmed, he tries not to show it. He’d rather lock himself away than burden you. He’d rather struggle on his own than put the people he loves in danger or hurt them with his personal struggles and the pain that consumes him.

Matt is patient and he doesn’t care if you screw up, even though you apologize profusely most of the time. He’s patient because we’re all human. We all screw up. That is the principle that he lives by and he makes you feel like you can be more of yourself around him. So after a year, there are no more reservations and you feel a lot more comfortable in your skin.

Until this day, he had never let his anger out on you, and he had never opened his mouth to yell at you in any way. Until that day.

He’s different when he comes home. He finds himself at his wit's end, and he has been ever since that godforsaken murder trial started. When he comes home, you don’t think much of his distance toward you, the denial of a proper kiss, and his grunts as he lowers himself on the couch instead of asking you about your day. You don’t think much until it all goes wrong, and you’re not even sure at what point it does or what you did to deserve this, but there has to be a reason because the man you’re seeing right now is not the Matt you usually get to see.

We all have bad days sometimes, others more often, but this seems deeper than just a bad day at the courthouse. This is not the face of an exhausted man after a long work day that just needs some kisses and maybe a blowjob, or to have sex with his girlfriend in all his dominant glory with aftercare to put the cherry on top. This is not Matt Murdock, this is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen that comes through the front door, tosses his cane into a corner, and then just falls on the couch like a wet sack of potatoes, his fists clenched as if he is ready to explode any second.

You’ve been taught to tread carefully, so you do. You approach him only slowly because you are worried, you always are. Perhaps it’s the line of questioning that has him exploding in no time.

“You okay?” you ask.

He props his feet up on the living room table and huffs. “Fine,” he says.

“You don’t look fine. Did something happen?”

You’ve brought him a glass of water, which he takes with a curt nod. Something is bothering him, but he won’t talk to you.

“Bad day at work?”

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m fine. I just want to forget that today ever happened.”

“You want some coffee?” you decide to ask instead.

“No,” he says.

His leg starts to bounce. It only does when he is agitated or overstimulated and is trying to deal with the world around him. 

“Do you want me to run you a bath?”

He sighs. “No.”

“We still have leftovers, maybe I could warm them up.”

His tone is harsher this time, “No!”

You blink, a little taken aback by the force in his voice and involuntarily, you start to shake.

“I just want to be alone,” he adds, softer this time. “Can you… you know what, I’m just gonna get changed.”

And like that, he is gone. He disappears into the bedroom and you’re left flabbergasted. You want to ask what’s wrong, but you’re scared. You’ve never been scared of him before. It’s not him, it’s his reaction, and so you retreat into the kitchen. 

Eventually, he comes out again, though he is still missing a shirt. “Have you seen my Columbia sweater?” he asks, the lights of the billboard reflecting off his marble skin. 

“It’s in the washer,” you tell him.

“Why?”

“Because it’s dirty. Matt, what is going on?” You place your mug down and look at him, eyes soft and full of concern.

He only rolls his. “I just want my sweater.” Grabbing the used shirt from the chair at the dinner table, he slips it on. It’s not the fabric he wanted and he tenses up, hating the new sensation already.

“Are you sure this is about your sweater? You’ve been on me ever since you got in.”

“Yes, because you keep asking useless questions.”

“Useless?” You scoff. “So my interest and worry for you are useless?” 

If there is one thing you have gotten good at it has to be defending yourself.

He brushes past you to get a beer from the fridge. “I told you, I’m fine.” He is good at brushing you off because he doesn’t like to admit when he feels weaker than usual.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Oh, my God, then stop fucking looking!”

“Okay, what the hell is your problem?”

He scoffs. “You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?”

“Everything.”

“Enlighten me then.”

“It’s not…” his chuckle is bitter. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re gonna keep seeing problems where there are none, so talking to you makes no sense anyway.”

What did he just say? You are so confused and suddenly very angry that you forget you are holding a glass. You smash it down on the counter, and, as expected, it shatters into a million pieces. Most of them fall to the floor and right at his bare feet. His eyes darken.

Oh.

Now you are scared, and not in a way that resembles sexy foreplay. You are scared because he is turning into a stranger right before your eyes. Suddenly, all you can see is not your loving boyfriend Matt Murdock, you see the anger of both your father and your stepfather in his eyes and hear it in his voice and it instantly tells you, 'this is all your fault'.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t see…”

“One night,” he says. He moves out of the kitchen, trying not to step into the glass.

You follow him with wide eyes. “What’s that?” 

“One night,” he repeats his earlier statement. “That’s all I wanted. One fucking night where people don’t prod or- or want things from me. And what do you do? You keep talking and talking, and you don’t even care that I simply don’t want to talk.”

“Matt, that is not fair. I just wanted to-“ the tears start to prick in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus Christ.” And that’s where your strength stops and you retreat into your shell – the next words out of his mouth come so loud, you could have sworn they echoed off the brick walls and shot straight into your eardrums. “For once in your life, stop fucking apologizing!” 

His hand lifts, mostly to underline his words, and with the bottle in his hand he is suddenly so close, your eyes squeeze shut at the gush of wind. You flinch, your entire body caving in on itself. It’s not even intentional, you can’t help it. You’ve been conditioned to expect the worst when someone raises their hand, and Matt has never done it before. 

He realizes what it looks like the second your heart jumps and your blood rushes loudly in his ear. He can smell your sweat, the tears, and the fear that surrounds you. It’s your pheromones that change and something lingers in the air that makes him stop and think, what did I just do? 

He has been so in his head and the city has been loud for hours, he lost most of his patience at the courthouse, and then you’re there all caring and lovely and he can’t help but tell himself he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you. He just wants quiet and to be alone while at the same time, all he wants is you, but it’s too much. It’s all too much.

And now, as you flinch away from him and his booming voice, he snaps back to reality and realizes he made a mistake. He’s never experienced you like this before, and it scares him. 

“Did you just…” he begins, his voice soft and barely above a whisper.

He hears you fall to your knees, the taste of salt thick in the air and your breath shakes with every intake. You bite your lip and you collect the shards, trying to clean up your mess as if he would hate you if you didn’t. You whisper a silent, “Sorry.” And then he hears it. You’re sobbing, you try not to but you are, and it is his fault.

“Did you think I was gonna hit you?” he asks, dreading the answer.

You sniffle, not answering.

You flinched, he heard it, and not because you were surprised. You are scared, he knows. 

He slowly approaches the kitchen. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

“I just gotta clean this up,” you whimper and you brush the glass together with shaky hands. The tears are running down your cheeks in thick streams and your teeth have gnawed your bottom lip bloody, your throat dry with the denied sobs.

“I just gotta clean this up and then I can make you dinner or something. I don’t… I can fix this. I’ll fix this. I’m sorry.”

It’s your fault, you tell yourself. You pushed him. You deserve this. He worked hard the entire day and you annoyed him. He has every right to do this. In your head, at least. It makes all sense in your head while in reality, Matt has never been more shocked to read your body language than he is now.

He slowly kneels in front of you. “Answer me this,” he says, “did you flinch because you thought I was gonna hit you or because I yelled?”

You shrug, unable to look at him. One of the shards slides across your finger and you hiss, the smallest cut forming and causing blood to pool out of your skin. Still, you don’t stop. You need to clean this up before he gets even angrier at you. In your state, you don’t realize his voice has softened and he no longer stares at you with those blacked-out eyes. He looks sympathetic, almost, but most of all the guilt has spread throughout his features and his heart. He is aching to touch you, but you are scared and shaking and he doesn’t want to hurt you any further than he already has.

He had been so ignorant that he didn’t see the signs before.

“Why are you crying?” he asks again.

You wipe your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. It’s my fault,” you say. “I’ll clean this up, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“Hey.”

“No, I gotta-”

“Stop.” His hand is on your arm then. “You cut yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s a mantra you’ve taught yourself to say in the hopes you could somehow fix this before it’s too late.

But it’s not too late. When you finally look up, he’s smiling softly, and his thumb is stroking over your skin in circles. 

“I’m sorry,” it’s his turn to say it. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. None of this is your fault. I was so caught up in my own shit, I… God, I would never hit you. I just- I didn’t think when I raised my hand. I didn’t think what it might look like to you. And I didn’t think when I yelled because I… in my head, I wasn’t thinking.”

Your facade cracks even more to the point you are seethrough and your defenses have fallen completely. You’re a snotty mess, shaking violently in his grasp. 

“I’m trying, I swear I’m trying to be better. Just don’t be angry with me,” your voice is bordering on helpless little sobs, your lips turned downward and God, you are shaking so badly, you haven’t done so since the last fight with your father when you were a teenager. 

Matt’s face softens even more, but there is a pain in there too. He takes a paper towel to wrap around your injured finger and he holds your hand, not sure if he is allowed to touch anywhere else, but he wants you to know he is here and he is going nowhere. He is neither mad nor is he going to break up with you. You try to tell yourself that, but it’s hard with the demon in your head whispering all those awful things into your ear, reminding you that everything bad that happens can only be your fault and that there is no use for you but to destroy and disappoint. But you don’t want to disappoint, you want him to be proud of you. You want him to hold you and tell you everything is alright. But you’re scared and you feel so stupidly guilty for something you can’t even put a finger on. Your bleeding finger.

“Angry with you?” he says. “No.” Matt chuckles, but it’s broken and almost whiny as he does so. “I’m not angry at you, bug. Of course not. I was just angry with the world. I was angry at everything else, but not you. I’m not angry at you. I couldn’t possibly be. I’m sorry, it wasn’t fair of me to take it out on you. I realize that now. And the glass…” he forces you away from the chaos gently, helping you stand up without hurting yourself further. “It’s just glass,” he tells you. “I’ll clean it up. There’s nothing bad about breaking something.”

“But the mess,” you say. 

“Fuck the mess. The whole apartment’s a mess.”

“I’m so sorry! I can clean it. I can clean up, I promise. I just… I’m so sorry, Matt.”

“Stop apologizing, baby, please. The mess doesn’t matter. The apartment doesn’t matter, and the glass does not fucking matter. None of this is your fault. You didn’t do anything but try to help. I had no right to yell at you. And my hand… I would never hit you. Never.” He squeezes your hand. “I love you.”

You hiccup, whimpering when he pulls you away from the glass on the floor and pulls you into his arms. His chin rests on the crown of your head and you mold into him, the tears taking on new speed and wetting through his shirt. He strokes your back, not sure what else to do, and his lips find your temple. “God, I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that, none of that.”

You cling tighter to him. 

He keeps asking himself the same question over and over again. “Who hurt you?” he asks. It’s a valid question. A fear like that doesn’t just stem from nothing. Something happened in the past to have traumatized you this badly. 

Your breathing eventually slows down, as do your tears, and you look up at him through swollen eyes. His white shirt is wet now, but he doesn’t care, he only hugs you back to his chest. “My father used to yell at me whenever I did something wrong,” you tell him, your voice muffled through his chest, but he understands every word. 

His grip tightens. “Did he hit you?”

“Sometimes, but… I remember that one time I forgot to clean up after myself and he just… he…” The lack of oxygen makes you shudder and you hiccup again, nails digging into his back. “I’m sorry, he just… yelled at me. Sometimes, he’d slap me, but only sometimes. He’d threaten most of the time, but he didn’t do it often. And I mean, I was a hard kid to raise, I-“

“No, don’t blame yourself,” he is quick to cut you off. “You were a kid.”

You shudder again. “Well, I… you know, he blamed me for the smallest of things, so I got used to apologizing and trying to please everyone, but I can’t always do that. I try to fix things, but it doesn’t always work. He used to yell at me every damn time and I just… I get scared. I don’t like it when people raise their voices. It makes me feel so guilty and now I even broke a glass. That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have… you had a bad day, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry like this. I swear I’m not a baby.”

You move away to rub your eyes. He grabs your face, smoothing the pads of his thumbs over your wet cheeks. The heat has pooled under the skin in an upset blush. 

“Don’t apologize,” he says. “It’s okay to cry. If I’d known, baby, I…” Matt can only shake his head in disbelief.

He loves you more than anything and to see you hurting because of something another man did to you, a man who is supposed to protect you, makes him feel all kinds of things, but none of them positive. 

But his anger doesn’t matter. This is about you. He has to take care of you now, not himself, and definitely not your father. It’s just you on his mind.

You choke on nothing. “He told me I have no reason to cry because he’s just stating facts.”

Matt clicks his tongue. “No, don’t ever think that again. You have every right to cry when you feel the need to.”

“It makes me weak,” you say.

“Your father’s wrong. You’re the strongest person I know,” he says. “And the fact that he yelled at you and blamed you for things that were out of your control… no one has the right to treat you like that, not even your parents, and he should have never even thought about raising his hand against you. That’s abuse. I can’t believe- fuck! Do you understand that it wasn’t your fault? That he had no right to do that?”

“Yes, but… it happened. Maybe I deserved some of those slaps. I mean you… I- I don’t know. It happened, we can’t change it. And who knows, maybe he was right.”

“Stop it! That’s not true and you know it.”

“I know, but-“

“No buts, sweetheart. I would never raise my hand against you, I promise. I’m not like your father. No one should be like him. You deserve so much better.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” you sniffle, “it was just instinct.”

“Shh,” Matt kisses you gently, “I know. It’s like me dodging punches in a fight. It’s a defense mechanism. Your father, I… you’ve never said anything. I would’ve never suspected this.”

“‘Cause I didn’t think it was important. This never happened before. You never yelled before.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. You should have told me,” he says. “It’s important to me. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you. I want you to feel comfortable around me, not scared.”

You nod. “And I am, really, it’s just… I thought I did something wrong.”

His smile is soft when he leans in to kiss you again, tasting the tears on your lips. “You didn’t. I let my anger out on you for no reason. You didn’t deserve that. It won’t happen again, I promise,” and he dives right back in. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, relaxing in his arms as his lips move against yours with sweet precision, making you feel lightheaded. He scared you, that much is true, but it was neither you nor his fault and you realize that now, safe in his arms as he proves his devotion to you with a single breath into your mouth. With his gentle touch around your waist he promises never to hurt you, never to let his anger out on you again, and he promises that he will drive himself to hell personally if he ever scares you like that again because he couldn’t forgive himself if anything happened to you because of him. He couldn’t live with himself if he broke your heart or triggered the trauma you brought into the relationship from your broken childhood, and he promises that he will never leave you, never put you second and always hold you when times get hard because people screw up, bad things happen, and you might be at fault sometimes, but so is he and there is no reason to be put down for being human. He wants to teach you that, he wants to help you heal yourself, and you have never felt more in love than at that moment, losing yourself in his lips, eyes and arms.

He breaks the kiss, moving on to your forehead. “If there is anything else I need to know,” he breathes hotly against your already heated skin, and the exhaustion slowly starts to seep into your bones as the shakes and tension subside from your bones, “please tell me before I make another mistake that might trigger you.”

You take in a deep breath, shaking your head. “There is not much else. My childhood wasn’t the best, but that’s okay,” you say. 

He brushes his knuckles over your cheekbone. “Bad enough. Promise you’ll tell me if something else might come up?” He resembles a puppy as he tries to meet your eyes, but he fails miserably.

So you promise him, “Okay.”

“Can you forgive me for yelling?”

Your tears have finally come to a halt. “Yes,” you say. 

“Thank you.”

Your eyes fall on the mess on the kitchen floor again and you go to grab the broom. Matt’s arm around your frame stop you and he gently pushes you out of the kitchen. “Let me clean it up,” he says. “Put a bandaid on your finger and then go lie down. I’ll deal with it.”

“No, I broke it. Please, Matt, let me do this.”

“Not everything is your fault, sweetheart. Besides, you already cut yourself once and with how you’re shaking, the next time you accidentally cut yourself I’m sure you’re gonna cause more damage.”

“But I-”

“Go to bed,” he insists, “I’ll be there in a second and then we’ll cuddle so you know I’m serious when I say that I love you more than life itself.”

The weight and guilt fall off your heart. “I love you,” you tell him. “More than life itself, too.”

It’s not a lie. If there is anything or anyone you love, it’s him, and you’ve never been this in love with anyone before. It’s sickening to the point it hurts, but the pain is sweet and it’s all worth it because with Matt, you can be yourself. 

The past matters just a little less with someone who loves you right by your side, and he would never give up on you like everyone else did before him. 

[bunnys-kisses]

virtual - toji fushiguro

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader rating: 18+ summary: Toji Fushiguro had his vices. He was a man of many of them, drinking, gambling, the occasional smoke, and the womanizing. Oh, the womanizing. Toji loved his fresh meat of the week, the pretty thing with daddy issues that hung onto his strong arm. But he had another vice, the kind that was nobody’s business. tags: pwp, cam worker!reader, hair pulling, biting, dark(ish) themes, toji is your number one fan, 3.1k

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Toji Fushiguro had his vices. He was a man of many of them, drinking, gambling, the occasional smoke, and the womanizing. Oh, womanizing. Toji loved his fresh meat of the week, the pretty thing with daddy issues that hung onto his strong arm. But he had another vice, the kind that was nobody’s business.

He loved a cute cam girl on a sketchy website under the username ‘DeerlyDoe’. He had seen your face a few times, but he had always seen your body. And he liked what he saw. He loved a girl with a little meat on her bones who knew how to use those curves.

He wanted to do unsavory things to you, nothing illegal or heinous. He wanted to see what those glossed lips could do. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he did want to make you scream his name.

  “Shit,” He grunted to himself as he pleasured himself in front of his shitty computer. The internet in the hole he lived in was terrible, your perfect body was all pixels but he couldn’t deny the heat in his body from seeing you.

He relaxed in his chair and stroked his cock. he was a quiet tipper, he sent tips anonymously. He didn’t need to draw attention to himself, even though the tips were large. The excitement in your voice when you saw the number was enough for him.

Currently you are riding a dildo that you stuck to the tile floor of your kitchen. He watched your body shake with each movement. It made his cock tense in his hand, thick like a pipe and solid like a brick. He groaned through grit teeth as he continued to stroke himself.

His face felt hot and a bit of drool ran down his chin in his pursuit for pleasure. The pleasure was building up in his gut the closer he came to climax. And he could tell you were getting close as well. He began to edge himself so he could have the pleasure of finishing alongside you. There were many things he’d do in order to see it in real life. To watch your body move before his very eyes.

He heard your moans get higher and before he knew it you were finishing all over the dildo. You soaked the toy in your wetness. The sounds that followed your aching pussy around the dildo brought Toji over the edge.

He created a mess to the front of his sweatpants, but he felt relaxed. He dropped his arms over both sides of the chair and exhaled deeply. “Yeah.” He said breathlessly.

-

Toji never imagined that he’d ever meet you in real life. He knew you were located in Japan, but he ever expected to see you in Shibuya. It was late spring and the rain came down in sheets, but Toji was crawling the streets looking for a way to kill time.

At a crosswalk, he noticed someone beside him. He looked over and saw a familiar sight. Now of someone that he knew, but his little fixation on the internet. His eyes went wide at the sight of you. He was in disbelief at the sight but then he noticed that you were trying to protect yourself from the rain.

Without thinking he tilted his umbrella to cover your head. What he noticed next was how beautiful your eyes looked when you gazed up at him. He never expected to run into someone to beautiful. So how the hell did Toji end up back at your place with you digging through your belongings to find something big enough to change in. He thought it was impossible for you. You were so small, and he was so big. How was he even going to fit in anything you owned?

The DeerlyDoe was in front of him, digging through his expensive wardrobe to find something for him to wear. How endearing. He watched your ass as you were bent over. He even was a little wiggle as you dug further into the wardrobe.

He wondered how expensive your clothes were, and how much would you have lost if he tore the items off of you? The thought made him smirk but he dropped it when you turned around with a simple compression shirt and shorts in hand.

  “That's all I have, it’s from an ex-boyfriend. I’m glad I didn’t throw it out.” You giggled sheepishly.

The idea of you having a boyfriend made his chest freeze. But he composed himself with a cough and replied, “Well, I’m glad you had it. There was no need to do this much for me. Thank you.”

 “You gave up your umbrella and got all wet! How could I not repay you?”

He smiled as gently as he could, “Fair point. But I am still thankful.” He started to strip his clothes off and you observed his partially naked body.

You swallowed and felt heat rise in your cheeks. There was a strange man in your home. You tried to create a little room for him to change, but he kept getting closer. Like he enjoyed your closeness. You felt your heart stammer.

What were you thinking letting this strange man into your home? But those dark eyes and that scar. He was a bad boy, and you had your little fixation of bad boys. You swallowed once more then smiled at him. “I hope it fits.” You said, “You can take it home with you.“

He chuckled softly, ”Actually, I was wondering if I could take you home. I think you'd look good on my bed.“

The blush felt like it reached your scalp as you covered your mouth with your hands. You let out a small 'eep' noise from the embarrassment. Which only in turn made him laugh.

Once he was changed, he went over to you and took your hands away from your mouth. He looked down at you as he held your wrists probably a little tighter than for someone as delicate as you.

  “No one invites strange men into their homes unless they want their ducts clean or their pussy ate.” He grinned at you, enamored by your shyness. It was so much different than the woman in the live streams. But he still loved it.

  “Mister Fushiguro, sir.” You squeaked. He had told you his name when you walked back to your home. He held your wrists to your head to keep you steady, and he leaned in for a solid kiss. Your eyes closed and you felt the hammering in your chest.

By instinct you held onto him as you leaned up to meet his kiss more. The shirt felt familiar, but the muscles underneath did not. You gasped into the kiss as he cradled the back of your head.

When he pulled away you asked, “Is it too late to ask you to clean my ducts?” You giggled nervously.

He ran a thumb across your bottom lip to see if the lip gloss stayed on. He replied, “Interesting.“

  ”What do you mean?“ You asked curiously.

  ”Don't worry. As much as I love the clothes you've given to me. I think it's best if I take them off. How does that sound?“

You looked into those dark eyes and nodded, anything for him. You saw him smile, it almost looked terrifying, like you were the prey and he was the predator. He kissed your lips once more before he started to take off the clothes you lent him.

Your heart raced at the idea of being intimate with this man. It had been so long since you had actual sex with someone. Usually you did things alone in your tiny apartment. But here was a man, a very handsome man, taking off his clothes in front of you.

The sight of his muscles as he took off the already tight shirt made you gasp. He was perfection, he wa danger, he made your head spin. It wasn't until his hands were back on you that you realized that maybe you should get undressed as well.

You felt heat in your body as you removed your sundress and left you bare in a simple bra and underwear. Your breathing was growing rapid as the heat in the main room grew warmer. You whispered, “I'm sorry if I don't look very good.“ You crossed your arms self consciously.

He pulled your arms away from you and held both wrists in one hand. He leaned in and tucked hair behind your ear, “I don't want to hear you say that ever again. If I didn't want a taste of that pussy, then I wouldn't be here now. I want you to be a good girl for me.” His breath was hot and left tingles down your spine.

He told you to leave him in the bedroom and you did as you were told. Afterall you were a good girl.

You couldn't believe what was going on, but a curious part of you went along with it. You were used to performing in front of a camera, but to have the real thing sent excitement through you. You blushed as you opened the bedroom door and Toji pressed his front against your back.

  “You want me to touch you?” He asked seductively.

You nodded, “Please, sir.” Then moaned when he started to feel up your breasts. You held onto his strong forearms, you could barely get your hands around them. You could feel his erection against your back, which made you grow even more flustered.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You know, I watch you perform almost every night. You help me relax, I always wondered what that pussy tasted like.”

  “You mean-”

  “Yeah, DeerlyDoe. I know that your pussy can take a beating.” He smirked into your ear before he bit your neck. He played with your nipples over your bra, “I've had my fantasies about you, what I'd do to you. Do you think tonight we can try some of them out?”

  “I've never had sex a fan before.“ You admitted.

He chuckled, ”Don't worry, I'll go easy. Maybe you'll like it so much that you'll never even think about having sex with a fan again.“ His voice was hot in your ear as he continued to touch you. His grip was rough as he played with your breasts.

You took off the underwear you wore and got onto the bed. You laid out for him to see every curve of your body. You watched him lick his lips as rain battered your window. Your nipples were hard from his teasing and between your legs was slick from the arousal.

He smirked once more, ”What a sight. A proper whore, ready to accept any cock she's given.“ He watched you grow flustered once more and he approached the bed. His hard cock bobbed with every step, ”I hope you know, I like it bare. I think you can tell, no condoms fit me.“

You swallowed and nodded. You watched him get into bed and you felt his length graze your thigh as he got closer. Your body felt electric and hot. Your heart was racing. You weren't too sure how it was all going to fit inside of you, but you had to try. Your core throbbed for the feeling of it inside of you.

  ”Dirty girl.” He remarked as he kissed your neck. His teeth dug into your skin, hard enough to leave an indent. You rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. He groaned against you, you felt amazing. He could feel the sweat on his back as he pinned you down to the bed.

  “Please, sir. Fushiguro, sir.“ You whimpered like a puppy which only aroused him further. His cock moved against your thigh once more and he caught a hint of how wet you were between your legs.

He groaned, the time for foreplay was over. He kept your arms pinned above your head with one large hand and your legs tightly locked around his waist. He gazed down at you with lust marking his face. With his free hand he guided his cock into your sweet pussy. He felt the stretch of your sex and he groaned.

You on the other hand were tense and it ached. You couldn't grip onto the bed for support. Your back arched but he kept you pinned down to the bed. Your heart raced as he sank himself inside of you. It was a tad painful, but it felt so good.

  ”Good girl.“ He groaned, he could've climaxed so easily but he edged himself not to. With one hand on your hip and the other holding you down, he began to thrust his hips. His cock pushed further inside of you and you moaned so loudly. Your noises made a shiver run up his spine to ecstasy.

  ”Please, sir.”

  “I know you can take it, I've seen you take more than this.” He growled. He recalled every dildo and toy you ever used on yourself. You once told the stream you liked the pain. He watched you moaning as you gasped loudly.

Your eyes squeezed shut as the two on you fucked on the bed. The bed creaked from the movements and eventually Toji sloppily made out with you to shut you up. You felt the pleasure and the pain mix together in a way that left you speechless. You tightened your legs around the other man and tried to meet his pace.

Your heart raced and when he parted the kiss you said, “Fushiguro, ah, please.”

He smirked down at you, and your eyes gazed upon the scar on his lip. Part of you wanted to lick it, but he kept you pinned to the bed. You whimpered loudly some more and Toji let go of your hands but found his large, calloused hand in your hair. He yanked on the  strands to pull you up towards him.

He held your hair in his hand as he bit your bottom lip and kissed you. You whined into the kiss from the subtle pain across your lips. Your heart hammered in your chest as he dropped you back on the bed and leaned back a little to get a better angle of his thrusts.

You saw stars as his cock hit every sweet spot inside of you. It felt like his cock was in the back of your throat the way he was moving inside of you. The sheer size took the wind out of you with each powerful thrust. You were becoming addicted to his feelings for him. It was arousing.

 “Good girl.” He said with a low growl to his voice.

You were sweaty all over as your body moved up and down on the bed. You gasped loudly as his cock bulled your cervix, it was so different when it was a real person rather than a toy. You managed to get  a hold of the covers under you and anchored yourself as his thrusts got more aggressive.

He groaned against you as he continued to move his body. His thrusts became erratic in a pursuit for climax. You gasped, moaned and whimpered which only encouraged him. His body throbbed with a need for release. This felt like nothing he had ever felt before, and he had his fair share of pussy.

He could tell why you were so good at what you did. His breathing was rapid as he held onto your hips with both hands and pushed his cock as deep as it would go. Sweat dripped from his hair down his back muscles.

There was so much he wanted to do to you, right now was just the taster. He licked his lips with want as he watched your heavy breathing. You were a total slut, you loved anything that would stuff those holes of yours.

He wanted to bite, bruise and mark you. To make you his. He'd let you do your shows but maybe his name tattooed on your thigh would be a reminder to your viewers that you were a taken woman. The thought made his cock throb. Maybe he could convince you of that. But first he'd have to break your brain while fucking it out of your skull.

He hunched over and dug his hands into the bed under you. He growled as he felt the pleasure race through his body. This felt good, you felt good. His muscles moved with each thrust of his hips. He knew he was getting close.

As were you.

The sex was rough, extreme to an extent. But you were both lost in the vastness of pleasure that you two kept going. You reached out for him and made out with him once more. He groaned into the kiss and put one hand in your hair again.

He pulled on it and you groaned into the kiss. Your pussy clenched around him and he made a noise that came from deep inside of him. That felt good.

The best continued to creak as the two of you fucked like two horny animals. The feeling was becoming overwhelming and you knew that you were both going to orgasm soon. You pulled away from the kiss and panted wildly.  

  “You're so good.' He grumbled, “Such a good hole to fuck. I might have to keep you to myself. See what else those hips can do. I'll need a good fuck after the work I do.” He grabbed your breasts so tightly that you knew they were going to put purple bruises come morning.

You whined and arched your pain from the pain, but yet it still made you core throb for him. With another heavy thrust you came all over his cock, you coated it in your wetness. You let out a high-pitched moan that was more erotic than anything that he ever saw online.

You went laxed on the bed but still held onto the sheets as you let Toji use your body to achieve his own orgasm. The bed continued to move, with it hitting the wall. Your breathing was heavy and your mind felt hazy.

With a few more thrusts into your tight cunt. he finished inside of you. He groaned as he did so before he leaned forward once more and gave you a searing kiss. You two made out with his softening cock still inside of you as the both of you came down from your orgasms.

  “Sir.”

  “Good girl, I hope you're ready for more because I'm not done with you. Now be a good girl and get on all fours for me. I want to see what ass.” He groaned against you before he pulled you in for another searing kiss.

You knew that you'd be seeing a lot of Toji Fushiguro after this, he may have been a fan but now he's making you feel really good and not from high donations.

[linos-luna]

hello! i really enjoy your writing and i find your fan fiction beautiful i swear 😭😭 sooo, i wanted to ask if you can write a bangchan x yn angst but w a happy ending (with a daddy issues yn) if you’re comfortable!<3; so i had this idea: Chan argue with yn because she always ask to him to take a break from his work and he just let out all his anger on her and start to say bad things to her (which he didn’t really meant or thought) and yn start crying in front of him during the argue because he reminded to her, her father. Once Chan start to feel bad about what he said to her and immediately try to excuse himself trying to get closer to yn for hug her, but, she immediately pulls him away but chan try to get closer to her again for make her calm down.

Thank you! I’m glad you like my writing! 🥺

This will be interesting because I had an abusive Stepfather so this will definitely resonate with me. At least we know it’s genuine 😅

——————————————————————

Awful Things 🥀

Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse, yelling, crying, ptsd?

——————————————————— 🥀

All he ever does is work. Your boyfriend is constantly stressed and barely gets any rest. You worry for him but know that he’s a workaholic, however it’s just not healthy.

So you try and remedy it. Cook for him and get him to relax. But it never lasts long. Often times he rarely spends any time with you. It all just bothered you and he seems to shrug it off whenever you mention it…

But you try not to dwell on it. You stay on the side lines and are usually shy to talk. Perhaps it’s just your personality, or your light fear of dominate male figures. Chan has never given you a reason to fear him but he still had that dominant aura. This issue stems from childhood and your boyfriend knows that.

~~~~

“Channie, please take the day off.” You pleaded.

Chan only glanced up from his laptop. He’s been on it for a while. He didn’t answer, only going back to typing.

“Hey!” You crossed your arms, annoyed that he was ignoring you; you hate that.

“What?”

“I keep telling you to take the day off!” You grunted. “You’ve been working nonstop for days!”

“Y/n, not now.” He sighed with annoyance.

“Chan—!”

“Y/n! Get out!”

“Excuse me?!” You were taken aback by his tone. He never yells at you like that.

“Out!” He yelled again while pointing towards the door.

You were frozen in place, not sure how to react, only looking down.

“Hey!” He yelled while snapping his fingers. “Are you stupid or something? I said get out!”

Your heart dropped when hearing that. Did he just insult you??

“Channie, I’m—”

“No because you’re so annoying!” He interrupted. “And you never know when to shut up! So needy! And for what?!”

This stung. You looked at him with glassy vision, trying to keep from crying as he stood up.

“Well you have my attention now! So what?! What do you want?!”

Your body shook as he came closer and your heart beat faster.

“I-I—”

“What?! You obviously want something! Spit it out dumb bitch!” His voice boomed as he practically backed you to the wall and slammed his hand against it, right next to your head.

This had you panicking, you started crying— no sobbing. You covered your face as if to block a strike.

It was then that Chan realized what he did. He watched in horror as tears streamed down your face and your body shook in fear. He quickly took his hand back and regretted everything he said, wishing he could take it all back.

“Babygirl, oh my god I’m sorry!” He pleaded. “I didn’t mean it! Not at all!”

The man tried coming closer to hug you, only making you scream and scoot away.

“Baby—”

“No! Get away!” You cried.

“Y/n—” Chan tried holding your arm, only for you to swat him away.

“Don’t hurt me!” You screamed. “Stop it!”

“Y/n please, I’m not—!”

“No!” You repeated. “You’re gonna hurt me like him! Don’t hurt me like daddy! Go away!!”

“I’m not going to hurt you!!”

His loud booming voice frightened you even more and you found yourself almost having a panic attack and you tried making yourself small.

Chan felt awful and tried holding you; wrapping his arms around you. You whimpered and tried pushing him away again but he held on tight. You struggled until eventually giving up and sobbing into his chest, finally accepting his embrace.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Chan said in a more soothing voice. “I shouldn’t have said those awful things…”

“Forgive me, y/n…” he whispered while rocking you slightly. “I shouldn’t have called you those things… I’d never hurt you… especially never like him…”

He felt like crying himself. Chan always wants you to feel safe. He wants you to feel safe with him. He knows what you’ve been through and your childhood of abuse. It’s been a while since you’ve had an episode like this and this time he caused it! And for what? Because he was stressed with work? Because he doesn’t want to take a break? He’s been neglecting you for days. You don’t deserve this!

“I’ll take the next few days off…” Chan said before kissing your head. “And I’ll spend all the days with you, okay? Every moment, I’ll spend with you…”

“I-I don’t wanna be a—”

“You’re not a burden… you’re not a bother.” He sighed, still holding you tight. “You’re never a bother to me, got it?”

You didn’t look at him, only nodding while still against his chest, probably staining his shirt with tears and mascara.

“This is what we’re gonna do…” Chan continued while rubbing your back. “We’re gonna get a small dinner… then get boba… then come home and finish off with cuddles and maybe a movie?”

“O-okay…”

You pulled away for a moment, noticing how his eyes were glassy as if he were going to cry at any moment. So you put your arms on his shoulders and gave him a kiss. No matter what, you still love him. You remember that Chan takes care of you. He loves you and always will…

[love-belle]

'cause summers go so fast !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which her only goal for the summer was to make it through the season without bashing someone's head in and have fun; not introduce more than half of her colleagues to her family and certainly not showing them around her hometown. but, universe always did fuck with her.

or

for when you realise that you don't have to be sorry for doing it all on your own. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

real life // f1 grid x fem!reader // lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings - language. unhealthy and toxic familial relationships. daddy issues. mommy issues. issues. a lot of self projection in this one so !!

author's note - hi hi hi :) this is a series that im truly excited for and i know that i have like two series in progress but yeah !! this is gonna be me self projecting my feelings onto the reader so beware and don't make fun of me <3 i love you so much!!

chapter i ⋆·˚ ༘ *

❝if i wanted to watch a man and woman scream at each other, i would just go and have dinner with my parents — can i leave?❞

chapter ii ⋆·˚ ༘ *

❝are you okay? i mean, i did watch you fall down the stairs and lay on the ground for about ten minutes saying that you deserved this.❞

chapter iii ⋆·˚ ༘ *

❝oh my god, i shouldn't even have to say this but please, do not bite my cat. her name is coochie — STOP LAUGHING!❞

chapter iv ⋆·˚ ༘ *

❝look — i'll speak on behalf of everyone, we think you're cool and the only reason we didn't really hang out with you is because you intimidate us. a lot.❞

chapter v ⋆·˚ ༘ *

❝charles is a decent driver and we can make a run for it. go inside, tell them to fuck off, throw water at their face, scream at them and then we're getting the fuck out of here.❞

...more !!!

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Two: [Chemo & Charisma]

Summary: Jake arrives in Rhode Island to accompany his three kids back to Houston Texas the next morning. He expects it to be slightly awkward, but something he doesn’t expect is to be cryptically seduced by you—his ex wife.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Cancer Diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Separation. Marriage issues. Mentions of death. Minor smut (18+)

Word Count: 4.6k

Author Note: Thank you for all the love and support around this series so far. It truly has been an awesome experience getting to create this storyline with you all. I'm excited to see how you all react as the chapters come out. Your concepts, theories and reactions are truly making my December that much better.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Turbulence…it can mean anything from a few little bumps to a catastrophic weather system that could knock your flying tin can right out of the air. In Surgery they call it a complication, the surgeons hit a snag, a bump in the road. Turbulence. 

In your marriage, you called it Separation. One of the most unpredictable things about encountering turbulence is its aftermath. Everything’s been shaken up, undone, turned on its head. So you ask yourself time and time again, if you had the choice to avoid the plane crash, the turbulence altogether, would you take it? Would you play it safe and cancel the flight? Or would you get onboard and take your chances. 

“Dad!” Little Lucy Seresin was just the spitting image of you and your grandmother. She was every bit you except for those big emerald green eyes. “Dad—!” You could see Jake making his way towards you and your three children through the crowd, all standing around your legs waiting for their father. The one who gave all three of your children those piercing emerald eyes that held what seemed like all the secrets in the universe. “Mum! Dads here! Dads here!” 

“I see him sweetheart, there’s daddy.” You replied to your six year old, who, before you even had a chance to stop the only daughter of Jake Seresin, took off running across the crowded airport welcoming area towards her dad. You knew it had been far too long since Jake had been able to see his children, but you also knew it wasn't entirely his fault. The Navy was unpredictable as it was reliable. 

“Hiya Lulu!” Jake smiled as wild as he could as he dropped to his knee to embrace the six year old human he’d helped create. “Oh I missed you sweetheart.” That much was true, Jake Seresin missed his kids every day that passed him by. You watched on with six year old Lennox by your side and two year old Samuel on your hip as Jake picked his daughter up and carried her back over to where you stood patiently waiting. “Lenny, how you going man?” Jake beamed as he tousled his eldest son's hair. “Far out kid, you shoot up any more and you’ll be taller than your mother.” You smiled at the dig unintentionally, before you knew you were smiling Jake had seen the corners of your lips turn upright into an unmissable smile. 

“Mums says I’m growing like an inch a day because I eat all my green beans at dinner.” Jake took a moment to place Lucy back on solid ground before he came up back up to meet your gaze. It had been a few weeks since you had called Jake about your Christmas plans. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about them, deep down he wanted to tell you not to go. Deep down he was screaming at the top of his lungs for you to give him another chance, to come with him and the kids to his mothers for Christmas. But Jake knew better than to make a scene in front of the kids. But that didn't mean he couldn't be petty when he wanted to be just to get a rise out of you. 

“Is that so?” Jake beamed that signature Seresin grin you’d fallen for back in college when he was captain of the football team and you were just that meek library dweller. He made you feel so much more than just the shy history buff you’d been back then, Jake Seresin had taught you a lot of things about yourself in the time you’d been his best friend and wife, now ex. Nowadays however you often caught yourself wondering if he’d miss you if you didn’t make it through the battle you were facing. The battle you hadn’t told anyone about except your mum. The battle that took all your strength to keep a secret close to your chest. The battle that was draining you or all your strength and energy. The battle that late at night you wish you could just end early. 

Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma. Triple positive meaning that your specific cancer fed off oestrogen, progesterone and HER2 hormones. Lucky you right? Your first lumpectomy went rather well, but you were facing twelve weeks of chemotherapy treatment. Three oral tablets daily and two full days of IV sessions a week. 

However, you were taking measures into your own hands as of tomorrow and were scheduled to be back in hospital for double mastectomy. You didn't want to wait and see if the cancer would spread and wanted every single bit out. But Jake was none the wiser about your medical status and assumed that you were off to Canada with friends for a white Christmas in Banff Alberta. 

“Well—“ Jake carefully took little two year old Sammy from your grasp and placed his tied sleeping self on his own jean clad hip. “Mums are always right.” Jake quickly followed up as he looked down at Lenny. “There’s gonna be a ton of green beans at Grandma's house so you might overtake her quicker than anticipated buddy.” Jake gave the youngest of the three Seresin siblings a kiss on the cheek before he fully turned his attention to you. “Hey Hon—“ The way Jake stopped himself from finishing his sentence made your heart sink into the pit in your stomach. “Y/n, hey Y/n.” He corrected himself quickly as he picked up his duffel bag from the ground next to where he stood before you. “You look well.” 

Oh if only Jake truly knew what you had to do in order to look well. The countless hours you spent throwing your guts up in the middle of the night. The sleepless nights that turned into days. The loss of appetite that had you dropping weight faster than you could blink. Your diagnosis had been quick but your symptoms had been even quicker to take over your daily life.  You kicked yourself every day for not getting yourself to a doctor sooner. 

“Yeah, I’ve been doing alright—“ Things used to be so easy with Jake, now he was standing here before you in the middle of the airport bustling with people going to and from for the holiday season and you swore he looked like someone you didn’t even know. “The kiddos keep me busy, don’t you?” You asked Lucy as she reached out for your hand and looked at you like you were telling lies. 

“Mums been sick.” She told her father confidently, like you weren’t about to die then and there on the spot from embarrassment. Little Lucy had a bad habit of throwing you and Jake under the bus with one another. “She said it’s just a cold, but she’s been sick for like four whole weeks.” Lucy didn’t know any better than what you had always told her, that you had the flu. A long flu at that. As soon as you’d get the kids off to school you’d head right back to bed and sleep. The medication your doctors had you on was pretty brutal, and chemotherapy didn’t help although you’d only just started that kind of oral treatment. It packed a punch you couldn't handle.

“Oh?” Jake frowned as the five of you all made your way through the airport and out towards the car park. “Mum didn’t tell me she was sick, if I had known I would have come sooner.” Jake looked at you like he was trying to read the lines on your face. He could tell you were tied, more than normal—but despite that knowledge he’d never say it out loud. His grandmother would roll over in her damn grave if Jake ever dared to point out a woman’s under eye bags or her tired expression. So he went with ‘well’. 

“That’s why I didn’t tell you.” You didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but you knew by the hurt look on Jake’s face that it had struck an exposed nerve. He never wanted to separate. “What I meant was, I’m fine, Lulu here sees a runny nose and thinks it’s the end of days, I would have called you if I needed help.” 

“Fair, I mean—you can’t be that sick right? With your big trip to Banff planned and all.” Jake shrugged it off like his heart wasn’t breaking inside his chest. This was about to be his first Christmas separated from the women he loved more than life itself. Being in North Island made it easier to run from his problems, but the minute he got on that flight he was back inside his own head, rewinding and rethinking everything he ever did wrong to drive you away. 

“Right—“ You agreed softly beside the man you loved so deeply that it burned. “Yeah, I’m just so thankful you were so happy to take the kids with you to your mothers house this year.” To be perfectly honest you were expecting Jake to push back, ask more questions, be a little standoffish on the idea of you not being there for the kids on Christmas. But he never did, and you didn’t know what hurt more. 

“They’re my kids as much as they’re yours—kinda think it’s the least I can do considering you’ve had them all year round.” It was the tone you didn’t appreciate, the almost passive aggressive attitude that made you frown as you walked with Jake and your kids back to your car. 

“You can see the kids anytime you like.” You tried to keep your head level, but the way Jake had said it made you question his motives. “I’d never stop you, if you wanna have them more often I’m sure we can—“ 

“Wasn’t that a big part of the reason you wanted to separate?” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to finish what you were saying. You were about to say perhaps you could come up with a custody agreement. Something on paper that seemed fair to the both of you that took your work schedules into consideration as well as your living conditions, the kids schooling, holidays and extended family. You were happy to discuss it more, but this year that had passed the both of you by had gone in the blink of an eye. “You were stuck with the kids too much? Seems a little counter intuitive considering you’ve become their primary caregiver.” 

“Jake—“ You sighed with a longing he’d missed. “Not in front of the kids, alright?” You were trying your best, truly. But here he was in all his glory, the love of your life and father of your children, telling you that you made a mistake just in a different kind of font. “We can talk about it all when we get home.” 

“I’m not doing anything in front of the kids—“ Jake shrugged as he watched you unlock the car. “I’m just trying to understand why you can’t just admit why you really left.” Jake knew why you left, because of him. He knew he hadn’t done enough in your marriage to show you how much he loved you. He just wanted to hear you say it. That you didn’t love him anymore. He wanted you to tell him point blank that you had fallen out of love with him.

But you could never say that, because you never stopped loving him. 

“You know why—“ You had to bite the inside of your cheek and grit your teeth to stop yourself from yelling, Jake Seresin after all these years still managed to get under your skin with ease. “Again, not in front of the kids, let’s just get home.” 

“You seem frustrated.” Jake teased with that award winning grin, he knew exactly what he was doing. You always took the bait. 

“Yeah, you’ve been here for five minutes and I’m already over it.” If you had rolled your eyes any harder than you did you would have fallen over. 

“Little harsh—“ Jake chuckled as he placed Sammy into his booster seat, the little buckles that used to give him a hard time when the twins were younger were seamlessly clipped up in seconds. Jake made sure his youngest was safe and secure before he stood and turned his full undivided attention back to you. “I’ve missed you.” He said genuinely with a love so strong inside his heart you could nearly feel the warmth as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and drew you in for a hug. “It’s good to see you, even if it’s just for one night before you go jet setting.” 

With little hesitation you melted into the man you had married all those years ago with ease. Jake was your home, your guiding light. This past year had been rough without him and you knew deep down it had been rough for him too. 

But sometimes love just wasn’t enough to save a marriage. 

“Yeah—yeah it’s good to see you.” Jake felt your arms wrap around his torso as you let your cheek rest on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you too.” Jake’s scent had alway brought comfort to you, the overwhelming warmth of cedarwood and notes of vanilla bourbon always calmed you, grounded you in reality. “I’m uh—“ You wanted to tell him the truth about what was going on, but you just couldn’t do that to him. You couldn’t ask that much of him. Not after everything you’d both been through over the last year. “I’m just happy you’re here for the kids.” 

“Mum! Lennox won’t let me have the window seat!” 

“I’m older than you!” Lennox argued back as Jake groaned into your neck. Oh how he’d missed you, missed the kids, missed his family. North Island was great but without the four of you? Something was always missing. A piece of Jake was always missing. 

“I’m not just here for the kids.” Jake pulled away at the sound of Lenny and Lucy arguing in the back seat over who was taking the middle seat. “But they’re a bonus, Honey.” He winked as he switched into dad mode and dropped his voice an octave or two. “Stop arguing, I’ll flip a coin.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Oh woah—“ Jake's eyes lit up as he walked through the front door of the home you’d recently finished moving into. He’d only ever seen it over FaceTime. “It’s bigger than it looked.” The little giggle you let out as you passed him by didn’t go unnoticed. Dirty bird, Jake thought to himself as his eyes lingered down to your ass as you walked ahead of him. 

“It’s enough for me and the kids with a spare room.” You replied as Jake continued to look around. Reminisce of cardboard boxes used in your move still remained scattered around the place. “The kids still wanted to put up the Christmas tree even though they aren’t gonna be here.” 

“Mama said Santa will know that we’re spending it with Grandma and Grandpa and will take all our presents there.” Lucy caught Jake's attention as she barreled into the living room where the Christmas tree stood tall and proud, decorated with mismatched decorations that you and Jake had collected over the years either from stores or the kids' school crafts. “She also said I could give this to you when you came to stay the night.” Lucy explained as she dropped to her knees and reached under the tree to where a perfectly wrapped gift labelled with Jake's name on it sat. “It’s from mum.” 

“Lucy May—“ You nearly hissed as you padded into the living room. “Don’t tell lie’s please.” You pointed, the deal had been you’d get Jake one present and one present only knowing he probably wouldn’t have gotten you anything, and that you’d tell him it was from the kids until he opened it. “You tell your dad who it’s from.” Jake knew by the smirk that crept across his daughter’s face he recognised as his own, that it was from you. Lucy didn’t have to say another word. But she did regardless. 

“It’s from me and Lenny.” She replied as Jake sat on the couch he used to sleep on during those nights the two of you couldn’t sleep in the same bed. Those nights where the two of you needed space and those nights where he thought he was doing the right thing by you and giving it to you. He sat on the couch that felt unfamiliar now and took the present his daughter gave him with grace. “Lenny! Dad’s opening our present!” 

“What present?” Lennox frowned as he walked into the living room trying to carry two year old Sam. “Oh! Mums present.” 

“Lennox!” You groaned aloud in utter defeat. 

All Jake could do was laugh to himself as he looked over at you. You were as beautiful as ever, his one and only love. How the fuck did things get so messy where you had to use your children as scapegoats. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine—I know it’s from the kids Honey.” Jake winked as you rolled your eyes and headed on into the kitchen where you were getting organised to cook dinner. You were starting to feel awfully tired–the oral chemotherapy was starting to make you feel sicker than you had been before you knew what was going on. A double edged sword really, you keep taking the pills? You get so sick you die. You stop taking the chemotherapy tablets? You get so sick you die. Either way you were dying or you convinced yourself you were. 

But Jake could never know that, your kids could never know that, so you went about your routine as normally as you could without making a fuss. 

“I might save this for when we get to Grandmas, I wouldn't wanna not have anything to open on Christmas morning Lulu.” Jake smiled as he brought her in for a hug between his legs. “I love you all so much.” 

“We love you too dad.” Lucy replied as she hugged Jake back. “Mum loves you too.” 

“Oh does she now?” Jake knew that putting all his faith in a six year old probably wasn't the best thing he could do, but right now as he held her in his arms, the little girl the two of you had created–he did. He trusted her to tell the truth you wouldn't, because you wouldn't lie and tell him you didn't love him either. “Guess I'll just have to take your word for it then, won't I?” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Jake Seresin had always been a good dad, you had never questioned him on his ability to go above and beyond for his children. That was something you never had to worry about. As you plated up dinner, the laughter of your three children coming from the living room made you smile to yourself. They were loved so fiercely. 

“Alright, let's get ready for dinner, yeah? Mums been cooking up a storm in here.” Jake rounded the corner with Sam hand in hand. “Smells so damn good in here.” You again smiled to yourself as Jake can to stand beside you at the kitchen counter, watching as you scooped some pasta bake onto five plates. 

“When's the last time you had a home cooked meal?” It was a simple question but Jake really had to think about it for a moment as he reached over to steal a cucumber slice from the chopped salad.

“Does food from the bar count?” He asked with a half cocked smile, knowing full well that Penny's burgers and fries wouldn’t be considered home cooked in your opinion. 

“No–” You grinned as Jake leaned in from behind you, trapping you between him and the counter with both arms encompassing you. “No, when's the last time it was a home cooked meal?” Jake didn't reply right away, he simply inhaled your scent slowly from behind you and took in the comforting scent of elderberry and juniper. He missed that all encompassing feeling, that safe and warming feeling of your presence. 

“Uh—probably the last time you cooked for me.” Jake noticed the moment you paused at his words, the revelation that you were having. “And it was probably pasta bake, with salad and pork chops, like what we’re having right now.” 

“It’s always your favourite—“ It was clear from the very beginning that both you and Jake were getting caught in the moment. But as his hands slowly make their way from the counter top to hips, you know you were too far gone to press the pause button. “Jacob—“ 

“I'm a simple man.” Jake cooed as he brought one of his hands up to move your hair from one side of your neck. “Lucy tells me you love me.” 

“She’s got a pretty wild imagination that daughter of ours.” You teased as Jake pressed his lips against your neck in a sweet gesture of gratitude for the woman who gave him three beautiful children. “You need to stop—“ You sighed into Jake's warm embrace as he pulled away and let his chin fall to your shoulder. “I don’t know where or what you've been in recently.” 

“I think she said her name was Vanessa.” Jake taunted as he held you tightly from behind. He felt you tense in his embrace at the very idea he’d been with someone other than you. But you couldn’t hold it against him, not now, the pair of you were separated. You held no claim on the man you had left in favour of putting yourself first. 

But that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt. 

“Vanessa a name I should remember?” You asked with a little attitude in your tone Jake caught immediately. He couldn’t help but to smirk at the idea you were a little jealous of his very infrequent conquests. He loved you to the end of the world but this was such a frustrating situation to be in. What was a guy supposed to do? Be celebate in hopes his wife came running back? 

“Nope—“ Jake reassured you with another kiss to the neck. “I’m not ready to let you go, I thought maybe I could if I just leaned into the whole thing, whatever it is that we’re doing, but I’m just not ready to let you go.” 

“Have you?” Jake had to clear his throat when he asked. “Been with anyone, that is?” 

“Do you think between work, raising three kids with your DNA and missing you that I’d have time to get laid?” You knew what Jake would latch onto, the part where you said you missed him. You saw the light in his eye as you turned in his embrace to face him with a mischievous smile plastered across your face. 

“You miss me?” Yes. Yes you did. With all your might you missed him everyday and every night. But it didn’t change what the two of you became. 

“Don’t try your luck—“ You argued, shrugging Jake's query off like the answer was obvious. To him it was, you did miss him. Other sailors tend to recognise other sailors on the sea and Jake missed you tenfold. 

“Oh I’m feeling like the luckiest guy in the whole world right now.” You could feel Jake pressing himself against you, silently but not so subtly telling you exactly what this whole encounter was doing to him. 

“Really? Is that so?” You asked like you weren’t aware of the rock hard erection pressing against your pelvis. Jake just pressed his lips together in an attempt to hold off the crimson red from creeping up his neck and cheeks. But he wasn’t backing down from a challenge, especially when you were leaving all the right doors unlocked for him to walk right through. 

“So lucky that I couldn’t help but to notice the spare bed hasn’t even been made up?” 

“Oh so you assumed I’d be your personal chef and the maid tonight?” You countered as you looked around for your three small children, not wanting to expose them to such x-rated content before you slowly but surely sunk your hand into the sweatpants Jake had recently changed into. Damn those grey sweats and damn Jake for going commando. “You are perfectly capable of making your own bed.” 

The way your palm wrapped around his length sent sparks through Jake's body like nothing he’d ever felt before. Your touch was so beautiful and elegant, like you knew exactly what he needed and where he wanted it. 

“Or I could just sleep in yours, with you.” Jake nearly begged as your fist slid up and down his hardened length, feeling him twitch under your control. “Honey—“ He nearly moaned as he fell forward into you, letting his forehead rest against yours. “You’re killing me here.” 

“What don’t you get about the fact we’re separated?” You asked almost teasingly like you weren’t pumping him slowly as dinner cooled on the counter behind you while your kids played in the living room. 

“For as long as you have my last name, you’re my wife, end of story.” Butterflies, that’s how you’d describe the feeling inside you when Jake, your somewhat ex husband, told you you were still his. You never wanted to not be his, but you were sure that Vanessa maybe wondered if she’d ever be his too. 

“Oh you are so full of yourself.” You slowly but surely pulled your hand out from Jake’s sweats and watched him nearly deflate at the loss of sensation, but he never missed a beat, Jake was quick like that, he always had been. 

“You could be full of me too if you just let your guard down a little.” 

“Jake!!” You slapped his chest firmly as your kids all rushed in at the smell of food. 

“I’ll take my stuff upstairs shall I?” He grinned ear to ear, knowing by the way your jaw remained on the ground he had you hook, line and sinker. 

“Yeah, you can, to the spare room you idiot.” You watched as Jake fixed himself up and headed in the direction of the stairs. You were still so in love with this man. 

“Lenny! Where’s your mothers room?” Jake turned to your eldest son who always knew that the two of you were going to make it through whatever this rough patch was. He had friends who had divorced parents, and even at the young age of six, Lennox knew his parents didn’t hate each other. 

“Upstairs to the left, it’s the messy one.” You gave your son the stink eye as he beamed up at you. 

“Perfect.” Jake chuckled and sent you a wink. “I’ll be right back.” He was getting laid tonight and you both knew it. 

“I’m—“ You hardly had the energy to keep your whole hard to get act up, so with a sigh, you let your guard down for the man who held your heart in the palm of his hands. “You’re unbelievably.” 

“I’ve been told by the youth on base it’s called Rizz now.” Jake yelled back as he jogged up the wooden stairs, you could just barely hear him as his voice faded the higher he climbed. But nevertheless, you still heard him. 

“Well I can’t wait to get both you and your ‘rizz’ out of my house!” You shouted back, Lenny just laughed as he watched his Dad pull a funny face at your words from the top of the stairs. 

“You don’t mean that.” He smiled up at you. “You and dad love each other.” It made your heart skip a beat, but you had to remember that you were playing a dangerous game here. Letting Jake in now would only break his heart more. You had to do what was best for you, and that was to remain separate. At least while you were fighting for your life. 

“Maybe, but he’s still a pain in my ass Lenny.” 

***~****~****~***~***~***

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 91 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove ve @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Daddy Issues

Natasha X Reader

Inspired by the song Daddy Issues by the Neighbourhood.

Warnings: Physical Abuse, Trauma, Difficult Childhood, Hurt/comfort, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Panic Attacks.

Please consider these Warnings before reading. This is a Mature Rated Fic.

Y/n was the newest member of the avengers team and Natasha was very intrigued by the young woman. She was always on guard and had a mask similar to the spy to not let their true emotions show. Curious as to why, Natasha watched the woman with caution, her instinct to not trust and find out the truth had gotten the better of her. But the truth would affect her more then she realised.

Daddy stuck around but he wasn't present Cheated on your mom but she never left him

The Avengers were sat around the kitchen ready for breakfast when Clint said, “God this tastes exactly what my old man used to make,” his tone nostalgic as he remembered his father making him breakfast. The team laughed and started to talk about their own childhoods due to prompt from the archer. You tensed slightly at the topic but made sure your walls stayed high as you didn’t need anyone knowing. However you failed to notice a certain redhead saw how you started to just push your food around on your plate and remained quiet. Not wanting to be there anymore, you made a reasonable excuse to leave and smiled at everyone before leaving raising no suspicions from anyone else.

First I didn't get it, now I understand

“What’s that now? Like 10-0?” the spy teased as she had once again pinned you to the training mats. You huffed out in annoyance as you hated training with Natasha as it always ended in teasing and you on the floor is positions way too familiar, except you knew she would never purposely hurt you. Not like he did.

“What’s that from?” She questioned while seeing the large scar on your stomach as your loose t-shirt had ridden up while being thrown on the floor.

“Just a silly accident as a child.” You quickly brushed the subject aside while pulling the ends of the black fabric down to cover it. Natasha saw the ways your eyes flickered with fear and conflict before your mask once again came back up.

“Oh ok,” she said, acting convinced for you to believe her, “Want to go again? Maybe you’ll land a hit this time.” Her tone mocking in a playful way but it only brought you another painful memory.

You heard shouting coming from downstairs before a little knock at your door. Your younger brother peaked his head around the door, his eyes full of fear.

“Y/n?” his voice barely above a whisper as he came into the room searching for his older sister.

“Hey I’m right here,” you softly spoke to him, attempting to calm him down as you could see how scared he was. “Why don’t you spend the night in my room?” you asked while pulling him in for a gentle embrace. You felt a little nod against your chest and pulled him into your bed. “You stay right there for me ok? You’re safe in here, he won’t get you. I won’t let him.” You pulled back to see tears threatening to fall but he nodded once again before you went to leave the room.

“Y/n please don’t go. He’ll hurt you again,” he pleaded as you reached for the door handle.

“It’s ok Y/b/n. I need to help mommy,” you turned to look at him curled in your duvet, “I’ll be fine.”

When you reached downstairs all you could smell was alcohol as you saw him. Your father was screaming at your mother as her hand rubbed over the red handprint across her face.

“Get the fuck away from her,” you spat as you ran over to your mother and pushed the man out of your way.

“You want to say that again you little bitch,” he growled as he shoved you away from your mother.

“I said get the fuck away from her!” you shouted, the rage that was bottled up inside you was now spilling out.

“I’d like to see you try and land a hit on me you pathetic little bitch,” he snarled while taking a swig of the bottle of alcohol in his hand before advancing towards your sobbing mother again. With all your strength you pushed him over before he could swing the bottle at your mother. You didn’t register anything till you saw the panic in your mothers eyes and the sinister look on his face before feeling a sudden pain along your stomach and your shirt becoming wet and sticky.

“Y/n?” questioned the spy as you had zoned out after her question.

“Huh,” you looked at her before replying, “Oh. Uh no thanks, I’ve had enough for today.” You smiled at her while rubbing the back of your neck, your nails digging into the skin there to punish yourself you being so vulnerable. “I’m going to go now Nat. Thanks for training,” you smiled at her before leaving her alone in the gym.

He broke her heart, left money in her hand So everything got paid for

“So Y/n, what’s your favourite childhood memory?” asked Tony as the whole team were enjoying a nice night in, sharing stories to provide entertainment.

“There’s so many how could I choose?” you lied while laughing with the others, trying your best to avoid the subject.

“Come on,” Tony said with a hint of stubbornness in his tone, “There’s got to be one that’s your favourite?”

“Yeah come on Y/n,” spoke a few other Avengers

“Ok, ok,” you raised your hands in defeat as you thought carefully, trying to find a happy memory. “It was my little brothers birthday and my mother and father gave us money to go to the local fair with,” you started trying to talk about your father in a way that didn’t seem like he ruined your life when that’s all he did, “He wanted to go on every single ride with me and practically dragged me around the place,” you laughed at the memory of seeing his face, his smile bright enough to light up a room. “But we went on this one ride that was too much for him and he swore to me he would never go on a ride ever again,” you chuckled at remembering his pale face as if he had just done the scariest thing in the world.

“Hey you ok?” you asked as he stumbled off the ride, a little smile on his face.

“Yeah I’m fine,” he gasped out while walking with you to exit the ride, “ I am never going on another ride ever again,” he exclaimed while looking at you. You raised your eyebrow at his suggestion before he quickly said, “Hey I’m being serious! That was terrifying!” you laughed at his seriousness before giving him a side hug and looking for your parents. After scanning the crowd you saw your father talking to another woman, his hands on her waist and a flirtatious look in his eyes. You looked past him to see your mother stood alone smoking, looking as if she was about to cry on the spot. You suggested to your brother that you could go find a game to play to avoid him seeing your parents.

A hand on your leg snapped you back to your thoughts. Natasha saw how after a moment or two of remembering the event your smile seemed to falter so she tried to bring you back to reality.

“Seems like someone was enjoying the memory too much,” she joked before changing the subject to spare you. After a while you slipped out of the room and no one seemed to notice. Well except for a certain redhead.

A few weeks later you found yourself at one of Starks after parties along with your team mates who had all seemed to had a bit to drink from the earlier main party. You were the only one there who hadn’t drunk anything alcoholic as you refused to drink anything like that. You zoned out while everyone started to talk as this wasn’t one of the things you liked to do. You started to pay attention to what was happening when you heard two male voices starting to get louder. You gripped the arm of the sofa you were sat in while your leg started to bounce slightly in anxiety. When Tony and Steve had started to properly argue and shout at each other you felt your thoughts spiralling out of control. Flashes how he would shout at you mother filled your brain, how he would beat her for wanting the best for their children, no her children, he had lost the title of being your father the first time he hit your mother. Other painful memories invaded your brain such as how he would hit you, pin you to the ground and do unimaginable things to a child and laugh as he saw your brother and mother shy away in fear. Your breath started to quicken and your hands started to tremble so you decided you needed to leave the room as quick as possible.

Suddenly you stood up and left the room as everyone was preoccupied with stopping the super soldier and billionaire from fighting. You managed to get to the roof of the compound, the place where you would go if anything became too much such as now, before your legs gave way and you collapsed against the wall. You let your body take control as you couldn’t keep the emotions in anymore. Your whole body violently shook as you sobbed into your hands.

All you could see was him. His face. His hands as he held you down. The screams of your mother. Your screams. The silhouette of your younger brother watching. The smell of alcohol. The feeling of pain. The feeling of when he would-

“Y/n…” Natasha’s tone was laced with fear as she saw you against the wall. After seeing you leave when the boys had started to fight she seemed to piece together an idea of what had happened to you and went to check on you. You didn’t look up when you heard her you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. What would she think of you now? A weak girl troubled by her past? A pathetic excuse of a person? A waste of space? She stepped towards you to try and comfort you but you flinched away at the sound of her footsteps.

“Please,” you sobbed out, ”Please leave me alone,” you begged, “Please don’t hurt me,” you croaked out before glancing at her feet to see where she was.

And when you told me the whole story I felt like throwing up

“Y/n,” she softly whispered, “Its me Nat. I’m not going to hurt you I promise.” You looked up slowly to see the spy through your tear filled eyes.

“Nat?” your voice shakily asked.

“Yeah it’s me. Can I come closer to your?” She watched as you tensed up before nodding at her request, your eyes meeting hers.

I can see it on your face it was rough Left a bad taste on your tongue

She slowly walked towards you and crouched next to you so you could see where she was without raising your head too much. “Hey its ok Y/n,” she cooed causing you to relax, “I’ve got you now. Your safe.” She repeated the phrase again and again till your sobs turned to whimpers and your body wasn’t shaking as much. “Can I touch you?” she whispered scared if she spoke too loud you would feel scared again. You weakly nodded and she gently cupped your face with her hands and wiped away the tears on your face.

And she didn't even take any drugs She would rain all day Couldn't wait for her sun to shine

You looked into her green eyes expecting to see disappointment or even disgust but all you saw was love and care. You hesitantly reached forward with your hands, wanting to hold her close and find comfort in someone but you stopped. You didn’t want to cross any boundaries with her as you thought it was bad enough that she was seeing you like this. Picking up on what you wanted, she carefully moved her hands around your shoulders and pulled you into her lap. She held you close and tightly as you started to cry into her neck. You murmured apologies against her skin until she told you it wasn’t your fault. You stayed quiet after that and just held onto her. She didn’t realise how much you needed her but she was happy to stay with you through it all.

And you made it shine There when she cried, you saved her life

[simping-overload]

ᴀ ᴛɪᴇꜰʟɪɴɢꜱ ᴛᴀɪʟ - ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴꜱ

a/n: halsin with baby fever <3 make this man a daddy

tags: halsin, he wants kids so bad. gn reader, zevlor cameo, just fluff.

『read on ao3』

synopsis: Halsin watches as you interact with the children of the Grove.

ヾthis is a multi-fandom blog that is designed for mlm/nbmlm identifying readers! so if you're female or fem please do not follow or interact with my mlm related post!! you will be blocked if you do not heed this warning ゛

The festival was bustling, children ran around and played whilst the adults drank the evening away. Bards sing their songs by the fire, occasionally starting sing-alongs.

Halsin sat separately, in a smaller, quieter corner, leaning against a wall as he watched over the party, making sure things won’t get too rowdy.

His gaze wonders over the crowd, looking for a familiar face before he lands on you. Sitting down on the ground and making flower crowns with the children. A child places one on top of your head, mindful of the horns.

The children braid and weave flowers along your tail and horns. Maybe at the right angle, you’d look like a statue wrapped in overgrown vines and plants.

Seeing you interact with the children stirs an all too familiar feeling in his chest, his desire for children of his own. Whether adopted or somehow biological, he wants ones of his own.

To see and hear the pitter patter of their tiny feet thumping against the wooden floor of your cozy home. Teaching them how to cook, clean, and maybe, if they wished, he can teach them the ways of the druids.

He’s already accustomed to the cries and screaming of children. Over the long years he has been alive, it’s safe to say he already knows how to handle it, especially when he took over as Arch druid of the Grove.

As much as he wants children, he doesn’t know if you wanted them. You never gave any indication if you did or didn’t.

Halsin tears his eyes away from you when he feels a nudge on his side. He turns his head, locking eyes with the person. It was Zevlor, a good friend of his.

“Something on your mind, Halsin?” The tiefling leader asks.

“Its—it’s not something to get into now, but how are you, friend?” Halsin tries to deflect the conversation away from him.

Zevlor raises a brow. “I’m well. The party is a bit more crowded than expected. Aside from that, don’t you dare try to change the topic. You’ve spent enough time of your life hiding your issues and feelings. Speak, my friend. I’m all ears.” Zevlor takes a sip of his wine.

“Do you think Tav and I would be good parents?” He suddenly blurts out, shoulders tensing at what he just said.

Zevlor grins. “I think you’d be one of the best parents in Faerûn.”

Halsin smiles at this, looking away from his friend and back at you.

“Though I would recommend waiting. Maybe a few years after the fame from your adventures, die down, and when you finally settle down. Did you ask them yet?”

Halsin chuckles nervously, “Well. No. I was waiting for a good time, but that moment never came.”

Zevlor huffed at this, smacking the druid’s calf with his tail. “Go ask.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. Gods know you probably wouldn’t ask for another year! And look, they’re already on their way.. I’ll leave you to it.” Zevlor pats Halsin on the shoulder before slipping off.

Halsin watches as you approach, and by the Oak father, you look divine. The bear in him just wanted to ravish you more than and there. He pushes the feeling away as he pulls you into his warm embrace.

You wrap your arms around him, curling into him as you soak in his comforting warmth. Pulling back slightly, you look at your lover, adoration laced in your expression.

“Hi love.”

“Hello, my heart. I see you had quite the time for the children.” He brings a hand to the flower crown that lies on your head.

You chuckle, nodding, “Yeah, it got a little out of control.” You gesture to your tail. It had all kinds of flowers laced together covering it.

With a fond smile, he gently caresses your cheek with his hand. Pulling you forward, and presses a loving kiss to your lips. He faintly tastes like honeycomb and tobacco.

You shut your eyes, falling into the kiss. Getting lost in the sensation of his lips on yours.

He reluctantly pulls away when the need for air becomes too strong. He settles to rest his foreheads against yours, looking into your eyes with a longing your’re oh-so familiar with. You can see his eyes flicker with uncertainty. It seems he’s having an internal conflict with himself.

“What’s on your mind, Halsin?” You ask, cupping his face in your palms so he can’t turn away.

He sucks in a breath before letting the words flow from his lips. “I have something to ask of you.”

[matts-k1tten]

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬

summary: y/n has daddy issues where her and her father has a wrecked relationship and would argue every night but this time the argument got serious and her father did something he would later regret which led y/n to run to matt.

warnings: Swearing, ‼️mentions of abuse‼️, heavy angst, ‼️mentions of blood‼️,

this is written for the challenge made by: @annamcdonalds67

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

The rain pours and the small droplets bang against the window making the noises in the room louder than they already were. “You’re a piece of shit! You’re the reason why your mother left!” My father screams. It hurt that he didn’t even need to be under the influence to tell me that. I felt my bottom lip quiver slightly at that sentence but I composed myself and yelled back. “She didn’t leave because of me, she left because you didn’t know how to be a man and all you did was slump on the couch and smoke weed until you hotboxed the whole house!” I breathe out. His face twisted with anger as he stares at me.

“Not to mention! You also have to have someone to take care of you like a little fucking baby and mom finally got fed up with your constant bickering and left!” I scream louder and feel tears streaming down my face soaking my cheeks. My breathing starts to go uneven as I stare at him with fire in my eyes. His demeanor changes and his face scrunches as his eyes start to grow glossy. He suddenly walks towards me and slaps me with all his strength, the anger taking over his body.

The sound of this hand hitting my cheek echoed through the house as I held my hand on my cheek and refused to turn back to him. It was silent for a moment as we were both frozen in place. I slowly turn back to him with red and puffy eyes and a slap mark on my cheek and a cut from how hard he hit me and a black eye forming. His face suddenly changed from angry to regret and I swear I could hear his heart drop to his feet as he reaches his hand out to me but before he can touch me I snap back from my daze and slap his hand away and run out the door grabbing my phone and sweater on the way out.

My dad screams after me but I slam the door shut the night sky consuming me as I immediately get soaked by the heavy rain. I felt blood gushing out the cut on my face but the rain washed it away. I didn’t even bother pulling up my hoodie and let myself feel every single raindrop. When I’m in the rain and I just let out uncontrollable sobs and walked to a nearby bench and sagged down. I love the rain, it made me feel better. For me, the rain meant that god was crying. It comforted me. This night in particular, god was crying with me.

I sat in the rain not knowing where to go as I couldn’t return home to my father. I look at the back of my black phone case thinking about it. I let out a loud sob and shove my phone into my pocket and stand up. I look up into the sky the rain immediately coating my face. I look back to my feet and before I knew it, my feet moved faster than my brain and I found myself walking towards Matt’s house. The rain soaked me even more by the minute and my face throbbed in pain as I felt my eye start to swell up.

By the time I got to Matt’s front door I was soaked from head to toe and my eyes were bloodshot red and puffy, one of them black and swollen and a slap mark right under my black eye and blood running down my face. I hesitate for a moment and rethink about coming here unannounced late at night looking like this. I slowly lower my shaking hand and stare at the door for a moment. I rethink coming here and start to walk off the porch. “I’m so stupid.” I mumble to myself and continue walking down the driveway when I hear the door swing open followed by Matt’s voice calling my name.

“Y/n!” Matt screamed, the rain slightly muffling him. I pause and don’t turn around. “Is that you? Why’re standing in the rain alone?!” Matt questions and steps on the porch. My shoulders start to shake while I sob quietly refusing to face Matt. “Y/n? Turn around! What’s wrong?!” Matt shouts again. After I don’t listen, Matt walks off the porch not even caring about the rain. “You’re gonna get sick!” Matt shouts again holding his hand over his eyes. I stand there frozen, part of me wanting to run away, run away from all my problems and never come back.

Matt comes up behind me and puts his hand on my shoulder spinning me around. Once his eyes meet mine his face drops and his eyes examine my bruised face and open wound. His hand on my shoulder softens and without a word he pulls me into a tight hug and I let out all the sobs I’ve been holding in since I got here. The only thing we could hear were my sobs and Matt sniffling once in a while. Matt holds me closely, our bodies pressed against each other. Once my sobs die down a bit, Matt pulls away still holding me and looks at me. I felt small under his stare and I just look down at our feet.

Matt puts his hand under my chin and lifts my face with a sorry expression. “Let’s go inside.” Matt whispers softly and puts his hand on my back, leading me into the house. The warm air consumes me as Matt shuts the door behind us making me shiver. Matt helps me take off my sweater and hang it up next to the door. I wrap my arms around my body trying to find a feeling of warmth as Matt leads me to the bathroom. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Matt asks softly right in front of the bathroom door looking deep into my eyes. The water from his hair drips from my face as I shake my head and look down. “Later.” I mumble.

Matt nods from above me. “Okay.” He whispers and kisses my forehead before he opens the bathroom door letting us in. Matt lets go of me and goes to turn on the shower and while he’s doing that I turn to the mirror and examine my appearance. My black eye now more vivid and swollen and my cheek only slightly red and the cut on my cheek stopped bleeding leaving dry blood on my cheek. I touch my face and flinch with a quiet hiss. I sigh and look away, I can’t even stand the reflection of myself.

I sit down on the toilet next to Matt who is standing by the bath tub. He glances down at me for a second before looking back at the shower and sticking his hand in to check the temperature. “This should be good enough for you, tell me if you need anything.” Matt whispers and goes to walk out. “Matt-“ I say abruptly. Matt stops and turns around, looking down at me. “Can you…shower with me?” I say quietly and look down at the floor. Matt stands there for a moment, hesitating. Without a word, Matt walks over to me, helps me stand up and take off my shirt. Since our clothes were soaked it was sticking to our skin.

Once me and Matt were both u dressed, we hopped into the shower and began to wash our selves letting the warm water consume us. Matt helps me scrub off the blood on my face and hugs me close, holding my head to his chest. I feel the lump in my throat start to form again.

“Matt-“ I whisper in a broken voice. He doesn’t answer and keeps holding me. “The reason why I came here was because…” I hesitated. “Because of my father, he did this and I also came there so that..I wouldn’t-“ I swallow. “I wouldn’t hurt myself.” I finish and whisper the last part. I feel the tears start to cloud my vision again as Matt tenses up, taking in the information. He stays quiet and doesn’t let go of me. “Don’t you ever-“ He pauses. “think about doing that, never.” Matt speaks and pulls away to look at my face. Matt brings his thumb up to my cheek and caresses my face. I smile faintly and I could see that Matt was trying not to cry.

My eyes trail all around Matt’s face and end on his lips. I look back into Matt’s eyes and see him leaning in to kiss me. I lean in as well and catch his lips in a breathtaking kiss. The kiss was so passionate and sweet I felt like I was in another world. He kissed me slow and held my face as my arms went around his neck and my hands went into his wet hair. We kissed for what felt like hours but were only minutes until we finally pulled away. Matt smiles down at me and kelp my face in his hands. “You’re so beautiful” He whispered.

I smile genuinely and hug him.

Matt and I finish up in the shower and go to dry in his bedroom. We brush our teeth and Matt hands me some of his clothes to wear to sleep and walks me over to the bed. I hop into the bed and pulls the covers over my shoulders and feel a sense of comfort being surrounded my Matt’s scent. Matt kisses my head and walks over to the other side of the bed and lays down next to me. Matt pulls me close to him and I use his body as a makeshift pillow and start to drift off to sleep. “I love you, angel.” Matt whispers and kisses my head again. I smile against his chest. “I love you more.”

——————————

a/n: this one shot was written for the challenge and it took me some time to actually write this and go into detail but i’m happy with how it came out and I hope u guys like it!!

taglist: @stars4matt @unfilteredassmf @junnniiieee07 @imwetforyourmom

[bcolfanfic]

Mollie I’m sitting on my knees with my hands out begging for the young veteran au HC’s with Gale and John’s adopted daughter 🤲🏻

(modern) young vets au - josie cleven-egan’s version™️

they talk about it once not long after they get back to the states- but that conversation ultimately comes down to deciding to revisit it when bucky’s ptsd is more under control.

and if it just isn’t something that works out for them- or bucky doesn’t feel ready ever then that’s okay too.

but bucky wants it. which takes some work, and time and tears and gale wanting to fire every single person at the sheridan VA office.

he gets there though, and gale is so damn proud of his husband.

when they revisit the kids thing they consider going to the infant adoption route but ultimately decide to go through an agency that places waiting kids in the foster system whose parental rights have already been terminated. surrogacy isn't something either of them really bring up except to bypass it.

it’s a smidge because bucky is intimidated by literal babies. just a smidge. 

they eventually get a call about a four year old little girl named josie and the information the social worker sends over about her breaks their sweet hearts. 

they both have their own shit from the war, but they’re grown men and trying to wrap their minds around a four year old having trauma that almost rivals their own makes them sick. 

damn taking a few days to call back like her social worker offers, they call back by the end of the night to ask when they need to be ready. 

sweet little josie shows up with a hello kitty suitcase at 8pm on a tuesday. gale and bucky love her instantly in a way that they struggle to really articulate. 

it just makes sense, her little face looking up at them when she’s sitting on the floor pulling her shoes off. she’s home. 

she clicks with bucky immediately, who takes to calling her jojo which she rolls with happily. but gale freaks himself out about suddenly actually being a parent and takes a little longer to find his footing. 

which makes him a little insecure when she seems more hesitant around him than she does bucky. it doesn’t necessarily help that bucky is the one home all day- and the one time he has to leave for an evening and isn’t there for bedtime poor josie absolutely flips out. 

her and gale both end up in tears by the time she’s actually clonking out, bless their hearts. 

she tuckers herself out and falls asleep in his arms. but man does poor gale feel like he’s absolutely useless having spent the past couple hours listen to her scream for daddy to come home like he’s just some babysitter. 

it hurts bucky’s heart when he’s home and gale is venting about it. he knows that man was born to be a dad and that their baby loves him, they just maybe need a little more one on one time. and gale needs to get out of his head about becoming his own father because, as bucky puts it- he’s nothing like that sack of shit and never will be. 

they spend more one and one time together, gale bringing her to the school he substitute teaches at when he’s just going in to plan over the weekend. she’s content to color on printer paper while he works, parking herself on his knees. it’s the first time she does that, and bucky beams at the photo he texts him. 

my buddy, at last! 👍🏼

the first time she calls gale daddy as opposed to “um, mis-ter cle’n” he cries. bucky cries. everyone cries. 

then raises the issue of figuring out how to differentiate between the two of them. they land on gale being daddy and bucky being papa. 

bucky jokes that it makes him feel he’s on little house on the prairie, but it’s fine. he’d let his darling jojo call him anything she damn well pleased. 

the day they make it official at the courthouse, as many of the guys as are free fly in to be there and celebrate with them. crosby brings his herd of kids and watching them run around with the newest little cleven-egan makes him emotional. 

“you cryin’ croz?”

“thinkin’ about when we were overseas. didn’t know if we’d be alive by the end of the week. but now look at our lives,” he says, swiping at his eyes. bucky smiles and rubs his shoulder, feeling choked up for about the fifth time that day. 

“it all worked out, huh?”