#brothers relationship at core? check | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

i-cant-sing · 2 years ago

Note

Jason with baby reader whose very affectionate with him but a total menace with everyone else?

Platonic Yandere Batfam x reader

Yesss obviously 💖💖💖 okay but like imagine something with me:

Reader being the youngest addition to the batfam, could be Bruce's bio kid or not, doesn't really matter. The only reason she even ended up at the Wayne Manor was because perhaps Gordon kinda begged Bruce to take you in because he doesn't want you to end in the horrible foster system of Gotham, just asking Bruce to look after you for a couple of months until Gordon can find a good home and adopt you himself.

Anyways, that doesn't happen because Gordon dies. So what was supposed to be a few months, ended up being an indefinite stay.

Okay usually this would be the point when their yandere tendencies start to show but let's say this time- it don't happen.

Look Bruce and the batfam are like super busy with that crime fighting life, believe it or not, vigilant-y life takes a lot of their time. When their not busy saving Gotham, they're either at home resting and recovering, or at work/school. They simply do not have time for family bonding.

Or so you thought.

You've seen the boys going to the "secret" batcave (u found out soon about their hero identities, cause you're smart like that.) and they spend a lot of time training, so they're definitely bonding. While you don't reveal that you already know about their identities and continue to play the fool, it still kinda... hurts to be surrounded by so many people who are supposed to be "family" yet don't treat you as such. Damian snaps at you anytime you ask if you could join him and the others on anything theire doing- even something as simple as just playing video games.

(And then i found out about Damian and Dick being each others fav siblings) Dick tries to be amicable but even he'd turn down hanging with you in favour of taking Damian out to the carnival, saying something along the lines of "Oh Y/n, its just- I haven't seen Damian in a looong time, and it'd be unfair to him if I brought you along because he's just been lookin forward to this outing for so long. Maybe we can do something next time?" But next time doesn't come around, with Dick always prioritising Damian over you.

You thought that Tim would be easier to spend time with, since he's home a lot more than others, but he's a workaholic to the core, and even of you did swing by with a coffee, just to check up on him, he'd plain out tell you to leave, to bother someone else because he just doesn't have the time. And yet there he was, talking for hours on the phone with Conner.

Jason was nice to you even though you initially thought he'd hate you like he hated Damian and well... his other brothers and Bruce as well. But surprisingly, you got along with him. Probably because he thought of you as this sweet kid who didn't know any better about the world, who just needs to be shielded by Gotham and more importantly- Bruce. Maybe that's why Jason talked to you- you're the only one in the house who's not a hero. Maybe that's what he needed: a healthy relationship with someone normal. And it would've been great if he actually hung around more than an hour. No, he was far too busy with ending criminals, or as he liked to tell you "my job doesn't allow me any holidays. Also, I hate Bruce and would swallow a cactus than stay in his home." But at least he brought you souvenirs from the around the world! His "job" had him travelling the world.

Perhaps the boys are just too busy, or don't like spending time with girls, so you decided to go to Bruce. But he's always busy, either with work or with Gotham, or with one of his sons. He is aware of your presence, he just doesn't exactly know what to do about it. With you not being a vigilante or exhibiting any qualities that he would deem extraordinary or impressive, he doesn't know what to do with you. Sure, he's set you an account where he's given you more than enough money to cover all your expenses and everything else, but that's all he gives. Just financing you until you're independent. He doesn't check in with you, not really interested in your average life, and he won't say it out loud but sometimes, he may have even forgotten about you. A few times, he may have taken you along with him to some galas with his sons, and when you're alone with him, you can sense that he's not... pleased? Content? Happy? Sure, he puts an arm around your shoulder and smiles for the cameras, but you can see the way his eyes wander around the room to find something more interesting, more worthy of his attention. The way he taps his fingers with unease, giving you curt replies and dismissive smiles when you tried to talk about schoo or anything, it all made you realise that you are not a child in his eyes.

You are a burden.

No. No, that couldn't possibly be the case. I mean, he took you in. Bruce wouldn't do that if he didn't care about you, right?

Still, to test that theory, you left the gala, alone and without informing anyone. Surely, he or one of the boys would notice your absence. Surely.

They didn't, even as the gala ended, they all left in their own cars, no one even thought to stop and wonder if you were riding with any of them. Hurt and depressed, you made the stupid decision of walking home in your fancy gown. Of course you'd be pulled in the alleyway and be mugged. The low lives decided that they wanted more than just your money, and when you realised their vile intentions, you began thrashing in their arms to break free, resulting in one of them punching your face repeatedly. Just when you thought all was lost, suddenly those pervs were thrown off you and were shot dead. You looked up and were surprised to find out who was your saviour-

Red Hood.

"Jason?"

"Y/n? I mean, who?" Jason was shocked to see you here, more so when you recognised it was him under the mask.

You rolled your eyes. "You can drop the act, Jay. I've known for a while." You groaned in pain as he helped you up. "Shit, you okay?" He asked, helping you walk towards a nearby bench. "Yeah. I mean I got mugged, but yeah..."

"Wait, what are you even doing out here this late?" You told him about the gala. "Soooo... why didn't you go home with them?"

You shrugged. "Just needed to confirm something."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

You remained silent, not wanting to discuss the topic further. Jason sighed before pulling out his phone. "I'm gonna call, Alfred. Have him send a car so pick you up." You grabbed his hand before he could dial.

"I cant- I don't want to go home." He raised a brow. "Why? What's wrong? Did Bruce do something? I swear to god I'll beat-" you shook your head. "No, Jay- look, I just need a break. If it's not too much to ask, can I spend the night with you? Or you can lend me some money and I'll stay at a hotel or something. Promise I'll go back home tomorrow."

Jason stared at you, trying to figure what's bothering you, but he also didn't want to push you by asking. So he nodded. "Of course, you can stay with me tonight. But only if you promise to make me your delicious chocolate chip cookies tomorrow." You smiled, nodding.

Jason took you to his apartment, cleaned up your wounds, cooked you dinner, cracked some jokes and then tucked you in bed. He actually tucked you in bed. He'd never know, but that simple gesture had you crying until you finally fell asleep.

When you returned home the next day, you weren't really surprised that no one had noticed you didn't return home last night.

No one in that house even knew how you were almost rap-

"Miss Y/n?" Alfred called from the kitchen, eyes wide as he took in your bruised face. "What happened? Are you alright?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I fell on the concrete pavement, someone pushed me accidentally-"

"Alfred?!" Bruce called from the dining room.

"You better go. And Alfred-" He stopped. "-don't mention this to him. I don't want him to worry over nothing."

Alfred nodded, leaving to serve Bruce and the boys breakfast. You don't think he'd tell Bruce and even if he did, you don't think he'd actually worry-

"Y/n?" Bruce was standing at your door, eyes narrowing at your face. "Alfred told me you fell?" He walked upto you, inspecting your face. Wait, did he actually came to check up on-

"How many times did you fell? Face first? Because that's a lot of bruises."

"It was a concrete pavement."

"We don't have concrete pavements in the house."

"I was out leaving from a cafe when I fell. Just wanted to eat some bagels." You continued to lie.

Bruce narrowed his eye at you before sighing. "Look, I don't have time for this. If you're in trouble, just tell me."

"I'm not."

"Then do you really expect me to believe that you fell? Is this a desperate cry for attention?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you really did fall in public, "multiple times" as you claim, did you at least get a cab? I don't want anyone taking pictures of you like this and make headlines tomorrow about one of the Wayne kids being abused. I won't have you tarnish the family name."

What? Did he just- did he really say that?

"No. Its not-" you were interrupted by his phone ringing, and Bruce left you to take the call.

You sat there on your bed, dumbfounded and even more heartbroken than before, mind replaying the words over and over again, trying to make sense, make EXCUSES for him, that perhaps you misunderstood him.

But you didn't.

That day, you had finally given up on the batfam. You refused to make a fool of yourself any longer by hoping that one day they'd accept you. You were and always will be an outsider to them. You won't depend on him any longer, even for your finances.

Years went by and you worked hard on yourself to get admission in a highly prestigious college with a fully funded scholarship, all while you worked to handle your expenses. When you got your admission letter, you didn't even bother telling anyone at home about it. Instead, you went out for lunch with Jason to celebrate (who had been dropping by more regularly ever since that night you were mugged), who was more than overjoyed, ruffling your hair and telling you how proud he was of "the only sibling smart enough to bust him out of jail and retirement homes." Jason truly did want this for you- to be normal and go to college like other normal people.

You moved out of the Wayne Manor quietly and moved into your college dorms in a different city, where you found an even better job on the side. The job that now helped you save up enough money to start paying Bruce back for all the years he had to spend housing, clothing and feeding you.

After a couple of months, you were able to wrote your first cheque to Bruce. And if it weren't for the large sum of money and your name attached to it, Bruce wouldn't have realised that he hadn't talked or even seen you for a while. He didn't allow himself to feel guilty for thinking that he may have forgotten about your existence for quite some time.

Picking up the phone, he called you and asked you about the cheque.

"I'm paying you back." Bruce was a little surprised to hear the monotonous tone.

"For?"

"The money you spent on me all these years?"

"Why? And how are you even paying?"

"I've got a job." What? When did this happen? "Look, I gotta go. I have class." You cut the call, and what class? As far as he remembers, Alfred had said something about attending your high-school graduation earlier this year.

Were you in college?

No, no. If you were attending college, he would know. Surely, you'd tell him. And even if you didn't or he forgot, he would remember paying for your tuition. Or maybe he already was, from the account in your name where he sent monthly payments.

Curious, he called the bank, only to be informed that you haven't used the account in years! They did inform him that you opened a separate account, and since Bruce owned the bank, they let him see the account and what you've using it for.

That's how he found out about your college.

You were just leaving your class to go home when you spotted him leaving the Dean's office. Apparently you were not the only one who spotted him, as your classmates all started talking about the famous Bruce Wayne. As Bruce's eyes met yours, you immediately turned and walked the opposite way until you had left the campus, and you went home.

You weren't surprised to see his car outside your apartment. But you were a little surprised to see him in sitting inside your apartment, sitting on the couch with an unamused expression.

"What do you want?" You asked, dropping your bag.

Bruce raised a brow at you. "What? No, hello?" He sighed. "Why did you leave the campus after seeing me?"

"I don't want to be associated with you."

His gaze turned stern. "Why? Are you embarrassed?"

No, I hate you. "No one will take me seriously if they knew I was related to you. I just want to be-"

"-independent? Is that why you sent me this cheque?" Bruce pulled out the piece of paper and dropped it on your coffee table. "Why are you doing this?"

"I told you, I just wanted to pay you off."

"You don't need to. You're family."

Only on paper. You thought.

You shrugged. "Doesnt matter. I'm paying you back every cent."

Bruce stood up, walking right in front of you and it was just then that he realised how much you'd grown up. You looked nothing like the scared little kid who was always peeking from around corners. You had matured, far too much for your age. He could see the little bags under your eyes, the wrinkles on your forehead, the disdain in your eyes.

"Why are you trying to cut me out of your life?" Before you could argue, he put a hand up. "I saw the documents. You didn't list "Wayne" as a surname on your college documents. You're trying to distance yourself from the Wayne name? Are you in trouble? Have you done something... dishonourable?"

You scoffed. All these years and all he cares about is his public image.

"Dont worry, I haven't done anything to bring down your family name." You spat. "Look, just take the cheque and leave. You'll never hear from me again, either in the media or otherwise."

Bruce glared at you, clearly slighted. "You're being difficult for no reason." You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from going off on him.

He turned around to leave, not bothering to pick up the cheque.

"How'd you get inside?" You asked when he opened the door. You wanted to know, especially since you took all the right measures Jason taught you to stop anyone from breaking in.

He looked over his shoulder and smiled.

"I bought the building."

You moved to a new place the next day, after you found out that the landlord refused to accept payments from you, since "your father owns the building. You don't need to pay rent." You wish it was easier to change schools though because apparently the everyone now knows you're Bruce Wayne's kid, which everyone figured out when someone called "Y/n WAYNE, please report to the Dean's office", who showed you that he had the college administration fix the little mess up of "forgetting to add Wayne to your name in all the documents" and then told you that he's very grateful to your father for his very generous donation to the college.

Bruce didn't bother you much after that interaction, except for monthly cheques and cash he'd send you, but you're never using cashing them. He also sends you regular invites to galas and social gatherings or even family dinner at home. You don't go to Wayne Manor anymore, not unless absolutely necessary.

Like today, when Bruce called you to come home for a "family portrait" for a magazine or something because the article is covering about all the Wayne kids.

You could already feel your throat closing up as the Manor came into view. You were greeted at the door by Alfred, the man saying he missed your presence at the manor. You just smiled and nodded.

"No luggage?" He inquired, noting that you only brought backpack.

"No. I won't be staying long."

You started making your way towards your room when you passed Damian's room.

"Y/n?" Dick called out, surprised to see you after so long. Or at all? You'd wonder.

"Hey." You said, eyes darting from him to the room where Tim and Damian were, both just as stunned to see you there.

"So, um... how are you?" Dick asked, unsure how to proceed this conversation.

"Great." You replied before turning around and walking to your room, leaving the boys befuddled.

Luckily, the photographer came soon and started with the shoot, and if it weren't for the photographer continuing to tell you to scoot closer to your brothers until Dick just pulled you and you ended up being squished in between them. Had Jason been here, things would be way more comfortable. But since he's been declared dead to the world, he can't be a part of the family portrait.

And later on, its time for dinner and reader is leaving but Bruce calls her back, telling her to at least stay for dinner if not for the night, and you tell him "I can't, exams are coming up." And he replies "really? The schedule your Dean sent me doesn't show any exams coming up." And after some back and forth, you finally sit down at the dinner table, chewing your food silently while the others talked. You were almost finished and this miserable reunion was coming to an end when one of them started to talk about something that triggered you.

It could be anything, from badmouthing Jason to even telling you to get off your high horse and stop thinking that you're better than them just because you've been living on your own and shit.

That's when you just couldn't hold back your anger and went off on them. Everything you'd experienced, all the emotional abuse and neglect you'd been subjected to from them, you told it all.

With tears in your eyes, you left the manor, only to be kidnapped by the Joker. Bruce and his sons didnt say anything to each other that night, except for replaying your words over and over again, simmering in their own guilt silently. Well, that was until-

"She wouldn't know the sacrifices we had to make to keep her blissfully unaware and ignorant of all the crime outside!" Damian yelled. "Just to keep her wrapped up in this bubble, outside of which is a world where she wouldn't ever truly survive if it wasn't for us!"

"Damian-" Dick sighed frustratedly. "-she never asked us to do this all. We chose this life, long before she came along. It's unfair."

"Unfair??? Then how could she claim she didn't feel "protected" when all we've done is slave over making this hellhole safe! How can she say that from the comfort of this home? She's nothing but ungrateful to us and to father! I'm telling you Grayson, if the tables were turned, she wouldn't ever make the sacrifices to save us!" Damian yelled before slamming the door on his way out.

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he asked Tim. "Do you... think we've failed her?"

Tim was staring at the ceiling, keeping his thoughts to himself. He definitely felt guilty, he remembers the way he would dismiss you.

Tim's silence was enough answer for Dick, though the two didn't know what to do next.

Thankfully, Alfred did.

"Miss Y/n forgot her phone here last night. Should I parcel it-"

Tim was already out of his seat, grabbing it. "No, I'll take it to her." Turning around, he saw Dick also standing.

"We'll take it to her. Thanks Alfred."

10 hours later, the two brothers stood outside your apartment. They knocked, but you didn't answer.

"Maybe she's at college?" Dick wondered. "Wanna wait here or go- Tim, wait for me!" His younger brother was already down the stairs when they saw Jason outside.

"What are you two dimwits doing here?" Jason asked, actually surprised to see them there.

"Y/n forgot her phone." Tim said, pulling out your phone. "She's not home. We're going to her college."

Jason's brows furrowed. "Why? She doesn't have classes today. We were supposed to meet for breakfast."

Dick couldn't help but feel slightly jealous of your relationship with Jason. Were you always this close to him? And why Jason, he was home far less than any of them.

Jason moved past them to your apartment, a spare key in his hand. "Maybe she just doesn't want to see you two."

Again, Dick couldn't help the envy that creeped up on him at the sight of Jason using a spare key to let himself in, the feeling only intensifying when he spotted many frames with pictures of you and Jason together.

After checking the whole place, you weren't there. Now, it was time for Jason to start panicking, as he asked them what happened at the manor, and he blew up at them as well for pissing you off like that.

When they had confirmed that you weren't in college or had ever returned to the city yesterday, they all went into panic mode as they informed Bruce about you going missing.

They all rushed back to Gotham, where Bruce had already pulled up CCTV footage of the place where you were last seen, hearts dropping when they saw someone come up from behind and knock you out, before kidnapping you. But no matter how much they searched for you, how many goons they beat up, they couldn't find you.

It is during this time that their yandere tendencies start to develop.

And it wasn't until a week later when they received a hint about your whereabouts, and they finally found you, in a warehouse, chained to the ceiling, a shock collar around your neck, all bruised and beaten because come on, Joker ain't gonna go easy on you.

The torture he subjected you to, it was almost comparable to the one Jason had to suffer. You were unnervingly still, and they couldn't help but wonder whether you were... dead.

That was until the shock collar went off and you screamed as your body jolted, Joker's manically laughing in the shadows.

"She's a tough one, much better than the wannabe Robin! I've been shocking her, waterboarding her, whipping her all week but she refused to tell me your real identities! I was starting to believe her when she said she didn't know, but it's just fun seeing her writhe in pain-!"

They beat Joker up, while one of them takes the collar and chains off you. You'd passed out from pain and exhaustion, and when you woke up, you were back in your room at the manor. While you were unconscious, Jason did end up revealing about how you actually did know about them being vigilantes, further intensifying their guilt and increasing their yandere tendencies, after all they do realise how they've failed to protect you.

So the story from here progresses on to when reader is actually forced by the family to stay in the manor to heal, all while their need to protect you increases the more you refuse their help.

When your injuries have healed and you're ready to leave, but they don't let you. Bruce tries to approach you, gently telling you that you need to be at home with your family, where you're safe. He wants one more chance at righting all his wrongs, he won't shy away- he admits he's made mistakes in the past with you. You back away when he tries to come closer to you.

"You don't get to choose to make up for your mistakes when you feel guilty, not when I had to spend all those years learning to live with your horrible parenting."

Tim spoke up next, telling you to just listen to what he has to say, but you cut him off with a dismissive hand.

"This is how you used to brush me away whenever I came to you, like I was some sort of fly, always too busy, too much of a hassle to even reply to a simple hello. So, why should I give you my time of the day now?"

Dick tries the comforting approach too, surely you don't hate him as much since he wasn't even around that much in the first place to cause you any hurt, promising you that he will do better this time. But you shut him down quickly too.

"I was never a priority for you then. I used to sit on these stairs, waiting for you day and night to finally be able to spend time with you. I know better by now than to trust your false promises."

Damian had a melt down next because you insulted his favourite brother. He went off on you that you never had to suffer through the same trauma as he or any of them did. How it's unfair that you don't give them another chance, how you don't understand that the Wayne's aren't a perfect family because of all the horrible things they've had to and still do go through on a daily basis.

You stared at him for a few moments before replying.

"I was almost r*ped."

The room went deadly silent, Bruce's mouth agape, Damian's eyes widening, while Dick and Tim turned pale.

"The night we went to that gala, you guys all left without me. I was pulled in an alley, mugged and almost r*ped if it weren't for Jason." You chuckled dryly. "What's worse is that none of you even bothered to call me, or even noticed that I hadn't returned home that night. I could've been dead in a ditch and none of you would've noticed for months, if not years." You wiped the tear that escaped your eye. "None of you attended my graduation, none of you noticed I had left for college, not until I sent a cheque to Bruce. I've buried you all in my past, and if it helps you sleep at night, I have forgiven you as well but I will never forget."

You looked at Damian. "And just because you've gone through some shit Damian, doesn't mean I'm undeserving of love and respect. I've experienced traumatising incidents too but the difference between you and me is that I don't use them an excuse to be a fucking dickhead."

You heard a car honk from outside. "Jason's here to drive me home- my home."

But before you could take another step, Tim had injected you with something. You jumped back, holding the puncture wound on your neck.

"W-what did you do?!" You yelled at him, and Tim only shrugged. "What's necessary."

You heard another honk, and this time, you opened your mouth to yell for Jason, only to have a hand slap over your mouth, muffling your screams for help. It was Dick, as he quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, dragging you away from the door as Bruce ordered Tim to put the whole house on lock down mode (essentially an impenetrable fortress), while Damian went outside to release his anger on Jason, both for failing as a brother to you (not that he'd ever admit it) and for Jason being clearly your favourite.

And from here on, you're being constantly coddled by the batfam (except for Jason since he does actually want to save u from the batfam). Bruce is always the first one to greet you every morning, and if you're still asleep when he comes, he might get away with patting your hair without you flinching away. He'd greet you, tell you he's expecting you to join him downstairs for breakfast. You simply turn your back to him, pulling the covers over your head, not bothering to reply to him, hoping to catch a break in this goddamn house.

You're only able to spare yourself for a few moments before the covers are yanked off you and you're greeted by the cheery voice of Dick. "Good morning, baby bird!" He'd yell before pulling you up and of the bed by your arms, and then to his chest, spinning you around as you try to escape his crushing grip. He's not fazed at all, mostly because he views you as a tiny little feral kitten who just needs a lot of love and snuggles. He drags you down for breakfast, everyone else already seated. You're seated between Dick and Bruce so that you can't run away, and also because Bruce makes it a habit of talking to you on various topics, usually about the book he'd leave on your bed. You would talk to him at first, but after a few weeks, you got bored with the silent treatment.

If its Dick's day with you, he spends most of the time trying to do anything and everything. No activity is off the table. Baking? Hell yes, but he's the only one who laughs after he intentionally throws flour at your face and fails at starting a food fight when you just leave. You wanna play board games? He's pulled out every board game in history and he very obviously let's you win. Movie night? He's build a fort (that he claims you two built together. You didn't, you just stood there while he built it.) And has all the classic films, pulls you close so that he can nuzzle his cheek with yours (again, not fazed by you trying to scratch his face off). Sometimes, he'd even bring you to the gymnasium (because Bruce can afford to build one in his house), where he lowkey forces you to learn about gymnastics, but at least he's a good spotter, cause you never get hurt.

If its Tim's day with you, he makes you spend the whole day just... with him. Look he's sleep deprived, he's lanky, he doesn't have a lot of energy like Dick or Damian, but what he does have is... perseverance. Tim will literally handcuff you to him if it means making sure you stay by his side. If he's getting coffee, youre getting coffee with him (he makes you a cup). If he's sleeping, you're right there, either get comfy and sleep next to him, or stay up and be bored because he's dead asleep. If he's in the batcave reviewing CCTV footage, you're there with him all day and even nights. He just wants to the remorse of dismissing you before to go, almost like he's trying to make up for all the time he wasn't there when you needed him, to now being in your business every second of the day.

If its Damian's turn with you, he's... weird. He doesn't actively make you do anything with him, it's more like having you observe him. He'd have you sit on the side and watch him train for hours on the end, rudely refusing to let you go do something else, or even train with him. He's playing with Titus? You're supposed to be watching him teach Titus tricks. He's going for a walk? No, you're the one who's walking while he's running laps past you. It's like he's trying to impress you to make up for his shitty words and behaviour.

As for Bruce, he likes to spend his time with you on a schedule. Have breakfast with him, then go on a jog around the estate, then accompany him to his home office where he works while you do college work (because obv, he shifted you to online education), and he definitely annoys you by standing over you while you study, not helping you until you ask for it but also not leaving so you feel intimidated under his stare and continue to make mistakes. Then have lunch at noon, followed by him giving you a puzzle or one of those fake crime files to solve, he likes to stimulate your brain and see how it works. This activity takes time so by the time you're done, Alfred has prepared supper. You both have dinner and then you both go to the library to read, because he wants to something less stimulating to the mind as your bedtime nears. Then he tucks you in bed, sits by your side and gives you a lot of positive affirmations (which he picked up from the parenting books in his library), before kissing the top of your head and leaving.

As for Jason, since he still insists on "saving" you, he's not allowed to see you. He can try breaking in all he want, he can't outsmart the Batman.

Or can he?

I had to type this on mobile with henna on my hands.

Yall better be grateful.

#yandere batman #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere damian wayne #yandere tim drake #yandere dick grayson #yandere bruce wayne

4K notes · View notes

zyafics · 12 days ago

Text

I LOVE YOU SO | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Imagine)

Pairing — Ex!Rafe x Engaged!(F)Reader

Content — ex-lovers au, hurt/no comfort, right person/wrong time

Word Count — 1.6K

lıllılı I Love You So by The Walters

THINKING ABOUT... when Rafe heard about your engagement, he nearly drank himself to death.

THINKING ABOUT... how the invitation sat on the kitchen counter, next to empty bottles of whiskey. He hoped to drown himself in liquor and forget the taste of you—but nothing remedied that pain. His fingers traced over the sharp edge of the card to the calligraphy that spelled your name alongside your soon-to-be-husband's.

THINKING ABOUT... how it should've been him.

THINKING ABOUT... how Sarah found him. It had been days since she heard from her older brother and decided to drop by Tannyhill. When she discovered wasn't a pretty sight. He was still feeding himself on alcohol—and alcohol alone—while staring at the name on the card, gripped in his hand as if it was his own personal damnation. He knew, without a doubt, that the invitation was a common courtesy. Forged out of respect and generational relationships on Kildare. It wasn't a true invite—not to him, at least.

THINKING ABOUT... how Sarah tried to help him clean up. Tried to take the glass from his hand, which he accepted. Tried to pull him up from the couch and push him into the bathroom, which he agreed. Tried to rip the card from his hand—which he refused. She never liked seeing her brother in such despair, and despite knowing the long history you shared with him, she didn't want him to get wasted on the forgotten thought of you.

THINKING ABOUT... when Rafe exited the shower, fresh and clean from the oozing smell of alcohol, Sarah had the card in her hands. She noted that Rafe hadn't checked a box—an ACCEPT or DECLINE. And when she asked him if he was going to attend, he didn't give an answer.

THINKING ABOUT... how you're marrying a man who loved you. He cherished you and saw you as the apple of his eye. It was different from your other relationship. Granted, you only have one before him, but you can tell the difference. It was calm, safe and warm. It didn't shake you to your core, it didn't have you screaming at three am, it didn't have to be hard. It was good. Healthy. It was soon to be yours.

THINKING ABOUT... how this wasn't the dream wedding you wanted since you were a little girl. Sure, it had most of the elements: the ceremony at the church, the gorgeous bouquet in your hands, the perfect ensemble of bridesmaids. But it wasn't exactly how you pictured it. It wasn't within the season you wanted, it wasn't outdoors like you imagined. It didn't have the specific floral arrangement you asked for, and it didn't have the boy you were going to meet at the end of the aisle.

THINKING ABOUT... how it felt all wrong.

THINKING ABOUT... how you couldn't breathe in your room. All the guests had settled in, all of them waiting for the bride to begin her descent. You were pacing around, to the comforting reassurances of your bridesmaids, but to no avail. You needed air. You needed to step out.

THINKING ABOUT... how you saw him when you stepped into the empty courtyard. Everyone had taken their seats, but not Rafe. He was standing outside, holding something you were certain to be a flask. You hadn't expected him to show. You weren't sure if you wanted him to. But when your heels clicked against the cobblestone and alerted Rafe of your presence—he twisted his head and your eyes finally locked.

THINKING ABOUT... how it was a slow and mesmerizing descent. You approached him with caution, as if you were approaching a wild animal and one wrong move could cause him to run. You shared no words, no thoughts, nothing. But the silence was communal and appreciated. When you made it against the barricade, Rafe did nothing but offer you his flask.

THINKING ABOUT... how his hand stretched out, flexing underneath his tailored suit. You stepped up to gingerly accept it—tasting the bitter alcohol slid down your throat and the closest remnant of his lips. You didn't say anything for the next few minutes, not even a paid gratitude, because you didn't know how to. it was Rafe who decided to speak up first.

THINKING ABOUT... how Rafe didn't look at you as he talked. His attention paid to the lot of the church, his words a whisper against the whistling wind. He depicted his own imagination—how he would've done it. How he would've gotten on one knee in that little park the two of you always went together. How it would've been a beach wedding because you always loved the ocean. How he would've gotten a wedding band with sapphires because you adored the color.

THINKING ABOUT... how Rafe rambled about the what ifs until you told him to stop.

THINKING ABOUT... how there was a palpable silence that sat between you as you handed him back his flask. Your head a little light, your heart a little heavy. You should've gone back to the church, to the awaiting audience of your family and friends, but you stood still. You wanted this time, this space, this moment with Rafe because you were certain it was going to be your last.

THINKING ABOUT... how Rafe had enough and stepped forward to cup your face. His cerulean eyes fell to your lips before eyeing every little expression, memorizing every little detail. "It should've been me," he murmured, running his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the last drop of his whiskey. His jaw ticked as he forced out the next sentence. "Why isn't it me?"

THINKING ABOUT... how you said nothing. You both knew the reasons, but neither of you wanted to accept it. Rafe had prioritized himself over your relationship, again and again, and there was nothing but a hollowness by the end of it. He loved you, you knew that for certain, but it was also not enough.

THINKING ABOUT... how you had to step back. You pushed him away, needing another clarifying breath of air. Rafe didn't move from his spot, simply slipped his thumb into his mouth, tasting the last drop, before you shook your head. "What are you doing here?" You demanded, because despite knowing everything going on inside the church, everyone waiting for you, you still were the same person you were years back—with him.

THINKING ABOUT... how Rafe couldn't answer fully. He didn't know why he was here. He didn't know what compelled him to put himself through the agonizing pain of seeing the love of his life walk down the aisle of her wedding, toward a man that wasn't him. It was sadistic, a need to feel the depth of his mistakes, and perhaps, even a last shot of hope for him to remedy it.

THINKING ABOUT... how he apologized. It had surprised you to hear the words spill from his lips because Rafe had always been stubborn in handing them out. He saw himself above such expressions and held his pride too high. But it was his last shot. And he wanted to make his amends before it was too late.

THINKING ABOUT... how there was a silence when he finished his speech. How he expressed regret for how he treated you, how he made you feel, in how he was as a past partner. You had nothing while you held onto those words because they were something you wished for all your life. But, now it came. A little too much. A little too late.

THINKING ABOUT... how you forgave him. And it wasn't fair. You had always been too kind and understanding. He was the one repenting but you had already given him the forgiveness he hadn't yet sought for. You've been told that you should make him suffer. Beg for it. But you didn't. Because you knew what he had been through. What good does it do to inflict suffering when neither of you enjoys it?

THINKING ABOUT... how Rafe had nothing else to say. Didn't know what to think of. Wait, yes, he did—he had hoped it would be enough. That you would hear his words and be a runaway bride for him. But you didn't. You remained stationed in your spot, your eyes intermittently flickering toward the entrance of the church. It wasn't until one of your bridesmaids came to collect you—warning you it was time, that he realized there was nothing else to do.

THINKING ABOUT... how you hesitantly bid him goodbye. You were going to see him during the reception, but Rafe didn't answer you. When you finally close the distance towards your bridesmaid, you spare one last glance at him—Rafe Cameron, your first love, the person who had half of your heart, the one who didn't do enough—and step back into the church.

THINKING ABOUT... how you didn't see him when you walked down the aisle. Or when you came around to take pictures. Or when the reception was held. You should feel ashamed for seeking out another man when your fiance—now husband—had his hand on your waist, his eyes filled with adornment for you. But you couldn't help yourself.

THINKING ABOUT... how you tried to forget. Tried to enjoy your day, your wedding. As the night came to an end, your husband carried you back to your new home. But what you weren't expecting was a surprise.

THINKING ABOUT... how there's an arrangement of bouquets outside your new home. It was in the exact precise order you wanted for your dream wedding. It was littered all over your front lawn, spilled with rich colors and florals that you gasped at the sight. You didn't know who it was from—neither did your husband. But when you approached the door, there was a note taped to the front.

THINKING ABOUT... how it was from Rafe. An apology and a gift wrapped in one. It didn't say much, but you didn't need it to. You knew his guilt, you knew his regret, but you knew his concession. And this, this was his last offering before he finally let you go.

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

348 notes · View notes

recklessmatt · 9 months ago

Text

i know - m.s *ੈ✩‧₊˚

PAIRING: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

GENRE(S): smut, established relationship au

SUMMARY: matt wants to show you how much he loves you

WARNINGS: smut (like derrr) [hard dom matt, (public-ish) teasing, rough (unprotected) sex, throat fucking, oral, fingering, overstimulation, choking, dumbification]

“you ready baby?” you hear matt ask from the other room. “yea! hold on!” you respond from the bathroom while applying a coat of lip gloss on your lips. you seal the tube before putting it in your bag. you double check your outfit in the mirror making minor adjustments. you head into the room where matt was sitting on the couch, legs man spread. matt is too focused on the argument nick and chris were having right next to him to notice you came out of the bathroom. you walked up to matt and stood in between his legs wrapping your arms around his shoulders. matt looks up at you, then back down examining your outfit. “hi baby” he smirks grabbing the back of your bare thighs. you feel your cheeks heat up from the feeling of his hands on you. “alright let’s get going before you two fuck on the couch.” nick says standing up heading towards the garage. chris follows him not before yelling out an “ew”, leaving both of you alone. matt stands up trailing his hands from your thighs going under your skirt to reach your thong covered ass giving it a light squeeze. he leans down towards your lips, his lips ghosting over yours. “you look so good.” he mumbles against you. he pulls away making you chase after him slightly causing him to chuckle. “let’s go sweetheart.” he says giving your ass a smack then walking towards the garage. you stand there in disbelief, shaking your head then running towards the garage following him. once you hop into the passenger seat and buckle up, you guys hit the road to the party.

while on the road, matt places his hand on your thigh and you, not thinking much of it just ignore it continuing to find songs on your phone to queue. you then feel matt’s hands trailing up your thighs which causes you to widen your eyes and turn to look at him. matt only smirks and glances at the rearview mirror for a second. you turn around to find nick and chris arguing loudly about who knows what. you face the road once again, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in and out. matt takes the advantage to trace his fingers around your underwear making you let out a small whine which you immediately cover your mouth hoping nick and chris didn’t hear. you turn around to the backseat to find them still yelling at each other which makes you sigh in relief. you face the front once again when you feel matt’s fingers lightly brush over your covered heat. you suck a deep breath in through your teeth when you feel him put pressure on your bud, starting to slowly move in circles.

you turn to look at matt and he takes a quick glance at the rearview mirror to look at his two brothers in the backseat to find them still not paying attention to you two. matt smirks and removes his finger from your bud which makes you sigh in relief, but the relief doesn’t last when you feel cold fingers touching your bare core. you cover your mouth trying not to let any noises escape from you, but you find it hard to manage when you feel a finger playing with your folds. matt slowly inserts a finger into your entrance lowly gasping when he feels how wet you are. all you can do is grip onto the seats from the pleasure you’re feeling. you let out a small gasp when you feel him add another finger, hitting your sweet spot, making matt chuckle lowly and pump his fingers in and out quickly.

this continues on for a couple minutes and you can feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. matt can feel you clench around his fingers knowing you were close and he pulls out at the last second before you can even come. you feel a loss of contact turning towards matt when you see him sucking his fingers that’s coated in your arousal. you pout at him knowing he can see you from his peripheral vision. matt does nothing but grabs your hand and gives it a kiss. you slump in your seat with a sigh when matt pulls up to the house.

once matt parked, all of you guys hopped out the car and walked towards the doorway. nick and chris walk in front of you, you and matt trailing behind hand in hand. walking in, immediately you feel vibrations on your chest from the music blaring throughout the entire house. your friend immediately spots you and runs up to you giving you a hug. “OH MY GOSH HI LOVE, let’s get you a drink babes. hi matt.” your friend says giving matt a quick wave before dragging you away to the kitchen. you look back at matt, blowing him a quick kiss before turning back around to follow your friend.

time skip

time passes by and you have a couple drinks in you not to make you feel drunk, but buzzed enough to make you feel more loose. you’re on the dance floor with your friend, laughing and smiling. you look around making eye contact with matt. you find him staring at you, tracing his eyes over your body, the way you sway your hips to the music. you notice this and smirk to yourself calling him over with a motion of your finger. he complies, chugging down the rootbeer he has in his hand, walking over to you.

matt is now standing behind you placing his hands on your hips and you reach behind you to wrap your arms around his neck. you both sway to the beat of the song playing, you push your ass onto him, grinding and you hear him suck in a breath through his teeth. you smile to yourself continuing your motions, moving your hips side to side, hands on his thighs now as you move lower on him. you can feel matt growing harder on you and you continue to grind on him until matt turns you around to make you face him with his hands still on your hips and you immediately wrap your arms behind his neck.

you both are still swaying to the music together, eyes locked on each other, eye fucking almost. the way you look under the low light makes matt lean in, lips barely touching. matt runs his hand down your body stopping at your ass giving it a light squeeze making you gasp giving him the opportunity to smush your lips together muffling your moan. your lips move in sync, tongues dancing together, exchanging each other’s saliva. matt pulls away and drags you upstairs to an empty bedroom. you follow him feeling excitement shoot through your body.

once you guys are in the bedroom he shuts the door, locking it, and trapping you in between the door and him, diving in for your lips once again. low groans and moans leaving both of your mouths echo the room as well as the muffled music from behind the door. matt runs his hands all through out your body and you lift up your leg, wrapping it around his waist to bring him closer. matt groans against your lips grabbing the leg wrapped around him and trailing it up from your thigh up to your ass. you both moan when you feel him lightly thrust his hard buldge against your clothed heat.

“you know i love you right?” matt mumbles against your lips.

“i know” you reply breathlessly feeling his hands grip your ass.

“good” he says connecting your lips once again and smacking your ass causing you to gasp, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. both your tongues fighting for dominance as it gets more passionate with every second that passes, he bites on your lower lip and moves his hip to rub up against you causing a moan to escape from you. matt then pulls away from you.

“get on your knees babydoll” he says starting to unbuckle his belt. you immediately obey and help him by pulling his pants and boxers down to have access to his member. his cock springs free, rock hard and the tip dripping with pre cum. you wrap your hand around his shaft squeezing more pre cum out causing matt to let a low moan out. you lick up his length tongue swirling around the tip.

“no teasing baby.” matt moans out.

you suck on the head, flicking your tongue against the slit making matt suck in a deep breath through his teeth and suddenly thrusts his hips forward. the sudden action causes you to widen your eyes as you feel his length gliding deeper.

“you just don’t listen huh” he says roughly, stuffing his cock into your mouth and began to fuck your throat. you feel the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat with every thrust making your eyes water and causing you to gag. matt grabs your hair pulling it into a ponytail as you dig your fingers into his thighs from the penetration. you moan loudly around him when you feel him pull your hair sending vibrations through his body.

“fuck baby” he says breathlessly thrusting in and out your mouth rapidly. you open your mouth wider and flatten your tongue more to take him in as much as you can. matt pulls out with a groan.

“get on the bed” he says bending down, grabbing your face to make him look up at him. you immediately get off your knees and get onto the bed laying on your back. matt gets ontop of you and attacks your neck with kisses. you let out a moan when he sucks on that particular spot leaving a hickey or two. you can feel his fingers play with the hem of your top and you reach down to pull your top off over your head exposing your tits. matt lets out a groan and quickly dives in to suck on your nipples. feeling his tongue swirl around the bud gets you more soaked by the minute. he kisses you all the way down until he’s met face to face with your covered heat.

matt pulls your skirt down, tossing it to the side, then completely rips your panties making you gasp and about to yell at him for ripping them, but you soon forget about that once you feel his tongue licking a stripe up your core. he begins to lap at your pussy and you respond by grabbing onto his hair making him groan sending vibrations up your body only making it more pleasurable. you moan out loud and throw your head back feeling him suck on your clit. matt takes the opportunity to push one of his fingers into your opening.

“o-oh my god fuck, matt” you say arching your back.

matt then adds a second a finger, pumping in and out along with curling them making them hit the perfect spot.

“s-shit matt” you cry out. hearing you cry out his name makes matt smirk against your core and increase the pace of his fingers while lapping at your bud. “i can feel you’re close baby, you’re getting tighter around my fingers. you wanna cum for me sweetheart?” matt says rubbing your clit and fingering you at ungodly speed. you nod your head letting whimpers escape your mouth. matt chuckles and dives back in to suck on your clit. you let out a loud moan feeling your stomach tighten.

“cum for me baby.” he mumbles against your core.

you squeeze your eyes shut, moans leaving your mouth as you feel yourself cumming on matt’s tongue and fingers. matt groans at the taste of your juices coming out of your cunt. after licking up every single drop, matt sat up over you grabbing your neck pulling you into a deep kiss. you moan into his mouth tasting yourself on his tongue. matt grabs onto your ass giving it a smack making a whimper escape from your lips. he lifts himself off you to remove his shirt and tosses it to the side.

matt grabs onto both your legs wrapping them around his waist and lines himself against your damp folds. you let out a shaky whimper feeling his tip against your slit. you feel matt insert himself letting out a deep groan.

“fuck, you’re so wet and tight for me.” he pushes himself in deeper bottoming you out.

matt abruptly thrusts hard into you causing you to let a loud yelp. he ignores this and continues to pump in and out of your cunt at a fast pace.

“matt” you whine out.

the way you cried out his name turned matt on even more making him thrust even harder into you. you feel his tip hit the sweet spot inside you at every thrust and you can do nothing but grip onto the sheets feeling an immense amount of pleasure.

“fuck you take me so well” matt throws his head back, grip tightening on your waist.

“i-im c-close.” you say shakily.

“already baby? lemme feel you come around my cock.” matt says as he started putting pressure on your clit while pounding into you relentlessly. you moan out loud feeling your legs fall weak and he lets out a loud groan feeling your walls clench and your juices coating his cock. matt pulls out of you flipping both of you over making him on the bottom and you on top of his lap.

“ride me” he says strictly. "wha-what?” you say out of breath still recovering from your high.

“i said ride me sweetheart.” he says with a dark look in his eyes. you hesitantly obeyed, slowly lowering yourself on him. you wince feeling a mix of pain and pleasure from the overstimulation but taking him all the way nonetheless.

“that’s a good girl” he mumbles out watching his cock disappear between your legs. slowly you started moving, lifting your hips up and down. the mix of your arousals made you wet enough that matt could easily slide in and out of you no problem.

matt grips onto your waist lifting his hips to meet yours and starting to pound up into you. he throws his head back with a groan. you whined against the crook of his neck feeling his cock fill you up perfectly. matt continues to thrust up into, his pace getting quicker with each stroke. you squeeze your eyes shut letting moans escape your lips feeling how hard he is pounding up into you.

“open your eyes and look at me pretty” matt says. you slowly open your eyes to find matt’s locked onto yours. you feel your stomach tighten at the heavy eye contact and soon enough your legs are shaking and you’re cumming around him again. matt lets out a groan pulling you in to connect your lips. the kiss was sloppy, messy and passionate.

“fuck baby, you feel so good” matt mumbles against your lips. he pulls away flipping both of you over with your ass up and him behind you.

matt takes control and rams into your cunt at a fast pace, this new position making you scream out of pleasure.

“m-matt t-too much.” you utter out.

“you can take it.” matt growls reaching around to grab your neck and pull you up. this new angle makes tears well up in your eyes, mouth agape.

“fucked you dumb huh baby” matt hums against your ear slightly squeezing your throat.

“uh huh uh huh” you mutter out feeling drool start to pool out your mouth. matt chuckles and quickens his pace.

“mmm i’m so close baby. you gonna be a good girl and let me cum in this tight pussy?” he says squeezing your throat again

“yes yes yes” you cry out, tears falling from your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. matt lets a moan out feeling you clench around him. your legs shake lightly, about to give out from another incoming orgasm.

“mmm fuck im coming” matt lets out a long string of curses and moans releasing his load into you. this sends you over the edge and you scream out letting your orgasm take over. matt slows his pace letting both of you ride out your orgasms. you both wince feeling him pull out of you. you both lay down on your backs, panting from the intensity.

“you okay baby?” matt turns to look at you.

“y-yeah” you stammer out. matt smiles at you and holds your face with his palm looking deep in your eyes.

“you know i love you right?”

“i know.” you say with a smile

taglist: @luverboychris @thesturniolos @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @tillies33ssss @plasticferal

author's note: hi again, this story was fun to write hehe. i love me some dom matt like yes pls fuck me dumb daddy. i have another fic in the works and yes it is another smut...but like it's a cute lil fluffy smut ogey. fank you for reading mwah kisses <3

REQUEST:

678 notes · View notes

only-lonely-star · 2 months ago

Note

LOVED THE SODA HCS CAN YOU DO SOME WITH X READER ONES WITH HIM? OR AT LEAST HIM WITH A ROMANTIC PARTNER HCS

‧₊˚ Dating Sodapop Curtis HCs ₊˚⋅

Warnings - There are a few that are for a fem!reader !! Majority are gender neutral.

Author’s Note - I was diagnosed with PNEUMONIA last week, I felt like absolute shit and the last thing I wanted to do was write. I’m feeling better now, so here’s some sweet headcanons! I hope you all enjoy!!!! 🤗🤍

·•·⚬·• ·•·⚬·•·•·⚬·•·•·⚬·•·•·⚬·•୨ৎ•·⚬·•· •·⚬·•· •·⚬·•· •·⚬·•· •·⚬·•·

Fight me on this one, Sodapop Curtis is a lover boy.

No seriously, I can’t see him hoeing around and seeing other people behind your back. Now. I will say, he might check someone out or partake in catcalling once in a while but he wouldn’t go beyond that. If anything, it’s probably to impress the other boys.

He would only date someone he’s totally infatuated with. He would never commit to a relationship if he wasn’t 100% about you.

I don’t think clingy is the right word, but Soda would always try to plan little dates with you or at least try to spend some free time with you whenever possible.

Quality time and words of affirmation are the love languages he likes to receive, and he likes to give physical touch and gifts.

He lovesss giving you hugs and small kisses specifically on the tip of your nose, chin, and practically any spot that typically goes unnoticed.

The day Soda brought you home to meet his brothers, Ponyboy stood gawking. His mouth wide open, eyes glued to yours, he quite literally fell in love. I don’t mean romantically, I mean he was just in total adoration. I just think it’s so cute to imagine Ponyboy finding you to be the most beautiful girl (which he gets to see almost daily since you’re at his brother’s side 24/7.)

Since you’re a 2 in-1 for him and serve as a best friend and a lover, he sometimes forgets he can’t roughhouse with you like he typically does with the boys. Play-fighting goes crazyyyy.

He shares literally everything with you. Clothing, food, secrets - everything.

He has a picture of you above his side of the bed (Like what he did with Sandy ☹️❤️)

He lives for the soft moments when he can just kiss you and gently massage your back and not have to worry about anything else because he’s comforted in your presence.

Since he’s a dropout he’d probably ask Darry to pick you up from school on their way home from work. That way he gets to spend the evening with you or maybe invite you to stay over for dinner.

On weekends, he invites you to hang around the DX with him and kill time. He gets so sick of Steve after working the weekdays that he wants a change in company LMFAO

I feel like he just has so much love to give, so having one person (you) to give it all to is so relieving. Bonus points if you’d rather have him all over you 24/7 specifically because you KNOW how loving he is. He hates feeling like he’s bothering you or annoying you by giving you constant attention.

Late-night calls are so funny. He’ll try to whisper and not wake Darry and/or Ponyboy up but he ends up forgetting it’s literally two in the morning and starts talking normally.

He ends every call with “I love you, see you soon” because he’s one of those people who thinks ‘it’s not goodbye, it’s see you later,’ PLUS he probably already made plans to see you the next day anyway 😭

Even though he isn’t the brightest when it comes to the 4 core classes, he tries his best to write little love notes and cards for special occasions. Valentine’s Day, your birthday, religious holidays, etc. He asks Ponyboy to proofread it and then help him make it sound “more romantic” since he can’t spell for shit and has to use the most basic words.

“Happy Birthday! You are my favrit person to talk to. You are funny and nice. I can not wait to grow old with you. I hope we have a butiful fewture. I duhsire to keep you by my side. I have not known some one like you buhfore. I love you more than you will ever know. - XOXO Sodapop Curtis” LMFAO STOP

Since he can’t afford much, he usually offers himself for the day. I mean like he’ll offer his time and efforts for you. “We can do whatever you want, have whatever snacks you want, watch any movie you want. My birthday treat :)”

He loves going to small concerts with you (like super underground local artists that are affordable) and letting you sit on his shoulders to see the stage.

If you have a super feminine room just TRUST he’s so entertained with it. He’ll fidget with the teddy bear on your bed, smell every perfume you have, trace the flowers on the wallpaper - he’s INVESTED.

If you were treated badly in the past by a horrible ex he would make it his life mission to be better than them and prove himself to you.

He includes you at family events as if you were married. Thanksgiving? Already made a plate for you at the table. Ponyboy’s graduation? You’re sitting in the rows of chairs with a congratulations card and everything. Family game night? Soda already decided you’ll deal cards first. You’re like family to his brothers and like a spouse to him.

If you tell him you’re proud of him just one time he will never forget it. He wants to feel validated by someone who isn’t his family so then it doesn’t feel ‘forced’.

If he’s not complimenting you, he’s busy admiring you.

Soda would so go for a girl who reminds him of his mother 🥲🥲. I headcanon him to be a momma's boy, so looking for motherly traits as well as the same charm and love his mother had for him would be a top priority for him.

He quite literally never shuts up. He feels comfortable with you, so TMI doesn’t exist. He’ll talk and talk and talk until you shut him up with kisses. That’s like the only way to get him to stop. He knows what he’s doing too.

THANK YOU ALL FOR READING !!

- Sophia 🫶🏼

164 notes · View notes

hallietblr · 1 year ago

Note

Could i get a conrad x reader smut where they are in a secret relationship/fwb and at the end maybe admit they like each other or start dating?

tangled up with you | c.fisher x reader

a/n: ahh i had such a good time writing this one for you! thank you so much for the request love <3

warnings: SMUT (minors DNI!), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), swearing, mentions of weed usage.

—

sneaking around with my best friend’s older brother made life so exhilarating, maybe because of the risk tied to it. i know that if jeremiah were to find out about conrad and my secret relationship that’s been going on for the past eight months, there’s the possibility of losing my best friend.

according to jeremiah, conrad and steven were not allowed to date or hook up with me. i was off limits. i was jeremiah’s best friend since the second grade and the last thing he ever wanted was for things to get complicated with his brothers (steven is basically another brother to him) having a relationship with me.

but feelings are feelings, they can only be suppressed for so long before moves are made.

and maybe the incredible sex tied to conrad fisher sways that statement.

i look out my bedroom window to see the jeep park on the side of the road. the silhouette of the golden haired fisher brother bobbing his head to the music. i giggle before turning to my vanity mirror to check myself out for the last time.

i fixed up my hair, touched up my mascara and lip gloss before spritzing myself with my signature perfume. i grab my phone that sat on my bed before scurrying down the stairs and yelling to my parents that i’m heading out.

i slide my vans on as i make my way over to conrad’s car. i open the door and he’s already smiling at me,

“hey pretty lady,” he winks, making me flush pink.

“hey handsome,” i say back as i settle into my seat, he cradles my face before pulling me into a long kiss. something we’ve both been craving for after pretending for the whole day around steven, belly, and jeremiah that we were, of course, only friends.

his lips tasted like mint and his chapstick, i smile into the kiss and i feel his lips turn upwards in response.

“you ready?” he asks after pulling away, i nod excitedly.

conrad always takes me to new places around cousins, we typically sit on the roof of the car and talk endlessly for hours into the night. sometimes we will smoke a j together, often making out and touching each other in places that isn’t normal for friends to touch.

the weeknd hums quietly as we drive in the night, his large and vascular hand placed highly on my thigh. his long fingers slowly crawling up to my centre. i feel myself getting more excited when his hand is centimetres away from my core.

he pulls away which makes me pout while he puts the jeep into park and steps out the door. he comes to my side of the car and opens my door, he offers his hand as i step out.

conrad brought us to the lighthouse, where waves crashed upon the large rocks and you can see the bright reflection of the moon and stars sparkling on the water. his muscular arms wrap around my waist from behind and we sway side to side, i’m taking in the beautiful sight.

he places gentle kisses on the back of my neck, and i tilt it to the side to give him better access. i can feel him smile at the action as he carefully sucks at the soft skin.

“this view is beautiful,” i tell him, turning around to put my arms around his neck,

“yeah?” he asks with a smirk, “well my view is better.”

his eyes flicker down me and back up to my eyes,

“you’re so cheesy”

“i love you, baby” he kisses me again,

i kiss him back passionately, my fingers getting tangled up in the locks of hair at the back of his head, “i love you so much more.”

so stands two teenagers, desperately in love, making out by the cousins lighthouse in the middle of the night. their hands running up and down the sides of each other before conrad pulls her back towards the car to continue their fun.

we both crawl into the back seat, he lays me down carefully across the three seats as he hovers over me. he removes his shirt in one motion before leaning down fo connect our lips again.

our teeth and lips are clashing as his tongue swipes across my bottom lip, i open my mouth to greet his tongue as it continues to explore.

his hand inches down my body, giving a soft squeeze to my boob before moving down to the edge of my cotton shorts. i sigh in pleasure as he slips his hand into my lacy thong, his fingers playing with the bundle of nerves that make me lift my hips up for more contact,

“please.” i beg him, arching my back as his lips kiss down my throat,

“relax, my love,” he mumbles against my skin, “i’ve got you.”

i moan out as two digits enter me, slowly but hardly thrusting into my centre, “fuck, you’re so wet.” he groans.

he continues to finger me for a few moments longer to prepare me,

“you ready?” he asks me and i nod, conrad kisses my lips again before pulling down my shorts and his own. his thick cock with veins running up it’s sides slaps his abdomen, released from the constrained boxers they were in.

my mouth basically drools at the sight. i’ve always knew that conrad fisher was handsome, but seeing him in the moonlight with his six pack and erected dick only made the wetness between my legs increase.

i watched intently as he lines himself up before sinking down into me, bottoming out. every vein and inch of his cock stretching me out in the best way possible. my head throws back at the feel of him inside of me as he thrusts deeply into me.

i moan loudly, grabbing the edge of the car seat and the head rest as i feel him nearly hitting my gut.

“fuck!” i cry out as he buries his face into my neck, increasing how hard he’s pounding into me. his hand grabs the back of my right thigh, pushing it to my chest to give himself a better angle to hit my sweet spot.

i bite into his shoulder, making him groan lowly as i feel his dick twitch inside of me. my hands are in a frenzy, clawing his back or pulling at his hair or anything to get him closer to me.

“you like that, baby” he moans as he continues to thrust his cock to my sweet spot that makes the knot in my stomach tighten. i nod quickly, “yes, holy fuck, you feel so good!”

“no matter how often i fuck you, your pussy is always tight for me,” conrad breathes out into my ear, “you feel so good around me, babe”

“m- maybe because your dick is so big,” i stutter out back to him, as i feel my orgasm coming closer.

“are you close?” he asks, “i feel your walls squeezing my cock.”

i moan out in response, unable to form words with the state of bliss im in. i cling onto his shoulders as my legs start to shake,

“fuck, i’m gonna come soon,” conrad groans, throwing his head back in pleasure, “where do you want it?”

“i- i’m” i try to speak, but my eyes keep rolling backwards, “i’m on the pill.”

he looks down at me with lust in his eyes, “are you sure?”

i nod, “fuck, conrad!”

he picks up the pace of his thrusts, now chasing his high. his hand reaches down to start rubbing figure eights on my clit to help me get my orgasm,

“come on my dick, baby” he tells me, “i know you can do it. i’m right behind you.”

“fuck, conrad!” i scream out, “i’m coming!”

“that’s it baby” he pants out

conrad litters my face with kisses as my toes flex upwards and my thighs are shaking. my back arches to his chest as i feel my orgasm crashing down on me all at once.

i release pornographic type moans and all i see is white as my nails claw down his back.

i feel him release inside of me, his warm coating my walls as he slowly thrusts me through my orgasm. he eventually pulls out and grabs a baby wipe that he stored under the driver to seat to clean me and himself up. conrad helps me put my clothes back on and kisses my shoulders while he pulls my t-shirt on.

we drive quietly back to my house where he kisses my goodnight before i exit the jeep. right as i open my front door i feel my phone buzz in my back pocket,

con <3:

goodnight my sweet girl, i hope you had as much fun as i did tonight! i love you so so much❤️

i blush at the text and turn around to the road where i see him blow a kiss in my direction. i pretend to catch it and place it on my heart before sending one back. i see a smile etch onto his face before driving off.

y/n <3:

i always have fun when i’m around you, sweet dream baby :) i love you!

#conrad fisher smut #conrad fisher imagine #conrad x reader #jeremiah fisher x reader #tsitp x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher fanfiction #conrad fisher fluff #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah fisher x y/n #jeremiah fisher fanfic #jeremiah fisher smut #tsitp smut #tsitp x you #tsitp imagine

2K notes · View notes

teapartyprincess4two · 11 months ago

Note

can't stop thinking about Full Set because it is just perfection. the writing, the pace, the length, the way you portray the characters, and literally everything. It's an absolute crime that you don't have more fics?!?!?!

Way Over Love- C. Sturniolo

pairing: Influencer!reader x FWB!Chris

classification: fwb, suggestive, smut, angst

warnings: 18+, MDNI, suggestive content, slight smut, slight angst, mentions of cheating, jealousy, alcohol use, cursing, toxic relationship, toxic Chris, no use of y/n

inspiration: Drunk Calls by YSB Tril

summary: Chris struggles to accept that he likes you as more than a friends.

—

It started off so innocently, you and Chris sharing a conversation in the hallway of a crowded influencer house party. You spoke about how stressful being on social media had become; eyes always watching, people always judging. The two of you could relate to each other and as the night progressed, you both became more and more inebriated. A simple conversation turned into two strangers giving into their deepest, darkest desires and fucking relentlessly in the restroom. You weren’t able to get enough of each other.

The next day you remembered all of it, your core pulsating at the memories. An Instagram DM in your notification center from Chris let you know that he remembered it too. From that moment on, you two have been addicted to each other, unable to go more than a few days without seeing each other. Without feeling each other.

It was car sex, shower sex, bored sex, stressed sex, come over I’m lonely sex. So much physical attraction eventually led to an actual friendship. The friendship became precious to you both too, trumping the sex. That’s when the rules came in; NO STRINGS ATTACHED. You two were going to remain friends who fucked, that’s it. No if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.

Eventually your lives became more intertwined than you’d ever planned for. Your friendship blossomed and you began to gain friends in common. You met his brothers and you guys all began collaborating together, you and Chris would film your own content, and you’d even go out as friends. There was something special about you and Chris on screen, you guys made so much money working together and playing into the rumors. But for the sake of both your careers, you kept your relationship a secret.

Before you could realize it, the lines of your situationship became blurred and you found yourself yearning for Chris in more ways than one. He’d always leave right after, leaving you to tend to the mess that was left behind. You thought he was leaving so he wouldn’t have to engage in meaningful conversation with you, but it was really because he couldn’t trust himself to stay longer. If he stayed he’d surely steal loving kisses, let his hands linger too long, and say something he’d later regret.

—

You’re currently laying on your bed editing a video so it’s ready to upload on time. Your phone rings from beside you, pulling you from your deep concentration. You pick the phone up to check who’s calling, but you know who it is; Chris. You pick the phone up, excitement already bubbling inside of you, “Hello?”

There’s a brief moment of silence on the other side of the phone, Chris is home and he needs to find a secluded area. If his brothers heard him on the phone with you they’d either become suspicious or ask to crash your hang out. He rushes down to his room before responding, “Hey, you busy?” The answer was yes, but for Chris you were never too busy. “No, why?” You ask, but you know why. It was always the same thing, Chris would come over, you would fuck, then he would leave. Yes, the sex was good, but for once you wanted something more.

“You know why,” he’s rolling his eyes on the other side of the phone even if you can’t see him. He tugs his shoes on, ready to call an Uber and make his way over to your house. A chuckle escapes your lips at his response as you reply, “need a ride?” He wanted to say no to save you the drive, but every time you pick him up you guys have the hottest car sex. Then you either head back to your place for another quickie or grab something to eat, or both.

“Yes please,” his tone is so cute, almost like he’s asking for the last piece of candy. It reminds you of all the times he’s begged you to touch him from beneath you. “I’ll be there in 15,” you say, jumping off your bed and walking to your closet to slip on some shoes. You’re fully clad in your pajamas, but Chris has seen you naked enough times for you not to be embarrassed.

“Ok, baby,” the nickname slips so easily, but before this he had only ever called you that during sex. You decide not to comment on it, but as soon as he says it a shiver runs up your spine. All you can think about is him panting ‘baby’ again and again with every thrust. You hang up the phone before you say something you don’t mean, grab your keys and head outside to your car.

—

When you arrive to Chris’s house he’s already waiting for you outside. He’s sitting on the curb, watching the cars pass by. He can’t contain the excitement he feels when he sees your car round the corner. All he can think about is you in the backseat, the foggy windows hiding you from the world.

You pull up next to him and he quickly hops in. “Hi, sexy,” Chris greets with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You roll your eyes but allow him to pull you in for a quick kiss, the first of many tonight. “Hi,” you whisper against his lips, pecking him one last time before putting the car in drive. The drive to your favorite parking lot is quick, coming to you like second nature.

As soon as you put the car in park, his lips are back on yours and his hands are on you in an attempt to feel you closer. “I missed you so much,” he groans in between kisses, he didn’t want to pull away even to breathe. You whimper when he says this, you missed him too even if you just saw him two days ago. “Come here,” he instructs, pulling you over to the passenger side by the waist.

It happens before you can process it, the car is rocking and the windows fog with every hot breath and moan. Hand prints adorn the sweaty window, both of you grunting and groaning at the feeling of being so close. “You feel so good, baby,” he murmurs as he watches himself slip in and out of you in awe. His voice alone is enough to send you over the edge, clenching around him as you come undone. You’re too fucked out to answer, instead dropping your head on his shoulder and allowing him to do the rest of the work.

He follows suit shortly after with a loud grunt as he pulls you off of him and makes a mess on himself. His face is red and his hair is disheveled, but to you he looks perfect. You’re still sitting on him, both of you catching your breath as you take in his beauty. He feels your eyes on him and becomes awkward, “alright, you can get off me.”

The change in his demeanor feels like whiplash, he was calling you baby just a few seconds ago and now he’s commanding you to get off of him. “Sorry,” you scoff sarcastically as you fix your pajamas pants and slid back over to the drivers seat. You hated how easily he was able to switch up with you. For once you wished it could be more than just sex with Chris, but you knew he would never take your relationship beyond that.

The awkward tension settles in the car as Chris reaches into the center console for a napkin to clean himself up with. “You hungry?” He asks, wiping away at his sweatpants. “No,” you snap with a roll of your eyes.

Chris is quick to quip back, “What the fucks your problem?” His jaw is clenched. You don’t respond, instead turning the car on. You’re so ready to just drop him off at his house and be done with him for tonight. Finally you gain the courage to respond back, “you’re my problem.” He groans in annoyance and rolls his eyes, he wasn’t in the mood to put up with your attitude today. “Whatever bro, you always do this shit,” he says, putting his seatbelt on aggressively and pulling his phone out from his pocket.

“I always do this shit? You switch up as fast as you cum bro,” you said it so fast that you didn’t even realize it. Had you gone too far? His eyes go wide, he can’t believe you just said that. By this point you’re outside his house and place the car in park, unlocking the door dramatically. You’re hoping he’ll take it as his cue to leave so you can be done with this conversation. “You’re such a bitch sometimes,” he mumbles, unbuckling himself and opening the car door.

He doesn’t say anything else, he just gets out of the car dramatically and slams the door in the process. “Wow so mature!” You yell as you watch him walk towards his house. He throws a middle finger your way and disappears inside.

You didn’t mean for the night to end like this, but you weren’t going to tolerate his disrespect. Every time he treated you like a side piece you couldn’t help but let your emotions get the best of you. You were done with him for sure this time.

—

Your no contact period with Chris didn’t last too long, a couple days later he was drunk calling you from a random party begging to come over. “Chris, you’re drunk,” you say into the phone, scrolling through Netflix for something to watch. It was late and all you wanted to do was curl up on your couch with a warm blanket as you watch your favorite tv show. But for some reason you can’t find it in you to hang up the phone.

“Yeah, drunk in love,” he hiccups as he serenades you by singing Drunk In Love by Beyonce loudly through the speaker. You laugh at how his singing directly juxtaposes the trap music in the background. You wish he was always this carefree. “You don’t mean that,” you say through your small laughter. “Why wouldn’t I mean it?” His words are so slurred and the music in the background is so loud that it’s hard to hear him.

“Because you’re drunk Chris,” you sigh, knowing that if he was sober he’d never be this sweet. “Never stopped you before,” he hiccups again, staggering slightly as he makes his way through the crowded house party. He was looking for his brothers, who decided long ago they didn’t want to be near Chris and his drunk behavior. “I was drunk too, dumbass,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

Everytime you say ‘drunk’ he’s triggered to start singing Drunk In Love by Beyonce and you can’t help but laugh. “See, I knew you loved me,” he coos playfully through slurred syllables, finally finding Nick and Matt amidst the crowded room. Nick heard what Chris said and wondered who the hell he was talking too, but he realized that Chris was so drunk that he probably didn’t even know. “Who said anything about love?” You tease, getting up from the couch to make your way over to your room.

You’re beginning to get tired so you hope Chris gets distracted and hangs up soon, especially because the conversation is dipping into risky territory. You snuggle up under the covers, a small yawn echoing through the room. He hears your yawn and slightly frowns at the idea of hanging up to let you rest. “You tired?” He asks, a solemn tone in his voice. You hum in response, pulling the comforter up higher against your body.

“Okay. I’ll let you sleep, baby,” his tone is so sweet and gentle that you find yourself wishing you could freeze this moment in time. You hum in response. “Goodnight baby, I’ll call you tomorrow.” He’s still so incredibly drunk so you know he won’t remember any of this tomorrow. “Goodnight,” you murmur, hearing the phone click when he hangs up.

The next day you wait for his phone call all day. It never comes, you should’ve known better.

—

It’s been two weeks since that drunken phone call from Chris and he’s been texting your phone nonstop. Every text has gone unread, you’re completely over being strung along for his entertainment and pleasure. You’ve still been uploading your videos and posting on Instagram according to your schedule so Chris knows you’re just ignoring him.

You’re currently at brunch with a few friends, all of them grossly unaware of your situationship with Chris. Your phone has been buzzing nonstop and your notification center is filled with messages from Chris.

“Girl who the fuck is blowing your line?” your friend Amanda asks, watching as your phone lights up incessantly with messages. “Oh it’s just Instagram,” you lie, turning your phone over so the screen is face down on the table. This doesn’t make it less annoying though, the buzzing interrupting your conversation with your friends again and again. You’re about to shut your phone off, but Amanda grabs it aggressively off the table.

The rest of your friends watch in shock as she reads through your messages, Amanda’s eyes widening with each message she reads. “Give it back,” you grumble, attempting to snatch your phone back but she holds it out of reach each time. “Who is Chris?!” She exclaims, standing from the table dramatically to show your other friends the messages. This had to be one of the most embarrassing moments in your life.

“He’s just a friend,” it comes out as a plead. You’re pleading for your phone back and pleading that she doesn’t ask any more questions. “Doesn’t seem like it,” your other friend LuLu chimes in as she reads all the messages for herself. You want to crawl into a hole and stay there forever.

“Wait is this one of those Sturniolo kids you’re always collabing with?” This time your friend Rachel speaks. She was your closest friend out of the three and was always up to date on everything related to your channel. You feel like a little kid who just got caught stealing candy. “Bitch, are you two… fucking?” Raquel asks, putting all the pieces together as she begins understanding the context of all the messages. I mean of course you were fucking, why else would you be so secretive?

You’ve all caught the attention of surrounding customers at this point and all you can do is pray that none of them know what or who they’re talking about. “It’s complicated,” you say with finality, finally snatching your phone back. “Mm yeah. Seems pretty complicated,” LuLu snickers before taking a sip of her drink. “I miss you baby,” Amanda mocks, quoting one of Chris’s messages to you. “Come over. I need you,” LuLu follows in Amanda’s footsteps, mocking and quoting the messages dramatically.

You hadn’t read them yet, but it warmed your heart to know he missed you. Your face is burning hot with embarrassment but you can’t help the smile that creeps its way onto your face at the thought of Chris missing you. At the thought of Chris needing you. “Ew don’t get all blushy and romantic,” Raquel says with a fake gag. You roll your eyes playfully before responding, “we’re just friends who fuck, okay?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. He seems pretty in love,” Raquel replies with a shrug. You roll your eyes again. ‘Chris in love? Yeah right,’ you thought, internally dismissing the idea before you can get your hopes up.

“Can you hook me up with one of his brothers?” Lulu asks jokingly, causing you all to laugh and return to normal conversation.

—

When you arrive home you make your way to your front door as usual, completely oblivious to the fact that Chris was sitting on your front doorstep waiting for you. He watches your every move, taking in every curve of your body.

“Where have you been?” He asks, catching you completely off guard. He stands up from the front step, wanting to block your way inside. You’re about to scream and run away before you realize it’s just Chris. What the fuck was he doing at your house? “Brunch,” you reply hastily, moving past him to make your way inside.

“With?” he grabs you by the elbow, a little too aggressively for your liking. You yelp from the sudden pressure, but he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t even realize he’s hurting you. “Let go, Chris,” you attempt to yank your elbow from his grasp but he adjusts his grip so that he’s holding your arms. “Who were you with?” He asks again, becoming slightly more aggressive with his tone.

“What does it matter? We fuck, Chris. That’s it,” this time you’re able to wiggle out of his grasp. You storm inside, but before you’re able to close the door on him he stops it with his foot. “Were you fucking someone else?” He asks, managing to get inside ‘What the fuck?!?’ you thought, how was he so stupid?!

“First you got all bitchy with me in the car,” he says, preparing an entire mental list of all the things you’ve done in the past couple of weeks. “Then you don’t answer my calls,” he’s counting on his fingers at this point. “Not to mention all the unread messages,” his voice is loud and intimidating, but you’re not one to shy away from an argument.

“I did answer your call,” you quip back equally as loud, referring to that one drunken phone call. “When? Huh? When?” He walks closer to you, closing the gap between you two almost completely. His nose is flared and his fists are balled up, and although you know he’d never hurt you, you’re still a little scared. ‘He really doesn’t remember,’ you thought, your heart breaking. He was so sweet that night over the phone and he doesn’t even remember he called.

“The other night,” you reply in a hushed voice, so embarrassed that the phone call meant so much to you. “Fucking bullshit. Who else are you fucking?!” he isn’t listening to reason, he’s fully convinced you’re seeing someone else and keeping it a secret. “Why do you care?!” you’re both at 100% now, caught up in the argument and blinded by rage. Since when does he care so much who you’re with or who you’re fucking.

“Why would I want anyone else fucking my girl?!” The room goes silent as soon as he says it. Had he really called you his girl? You scoff and roll your eyes, you knew better than that now. He never meant it and you weren’t about to be played again. “I was with my friends,” you say, completely over this conversation. The sooner he leaves, the better.

“My girl friends,” you reiterate, emphasizing ‘girl’ so he gets the hint that you’re not fucking anyone else. He coughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “Oh. Sorry..” he says, but you don’t believe him. You’re so tired of all the empty apologies.

“Can you just… go?” you sigh. You’re not upset, just mentally drained from this entire interaction. At first he thinks you’re joking, you’ve never kicked him out before. He’s usually the one who rushes to leave while you beg him to stay. When he realizes you’re not joking he’s at a loss for words. Chris watches as you walk over to the front door, opening it and standing next to it so he can peacefully and quietly leave. You’re tired of fighting.

He feels like the walls are closing in on him and pushing him out the door because his feet are moving but his mind is telling him to stay, to fight for you. “Baby, I’m sorry..” he pleads, trying to catch your gaze. You don’t even look at him, you can’t even look at him. He takes the hint and walks out. You were done with him and this time it was real.

—

It’s been months since you last spoke to Chris. After he left your house that day you blocked his number and erased any and every trace of him from your life. You threw away clothes, deleted pictures, and mentally reminded yourself everyday to move on. Nothing has been the same since and you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss him, but you needed a fresh start.

Chris has been a wreck ever since. He wants to show up at your house, but he’s afraid you’ll just end up fighting again and you’ll hate him more than you already do. He hasn’t gotten rid of anything not even the clothes, the pictures, or the memories. In fact, he can’t stop scrolling through his camera roll to look at pictures of you. Nick and Matt have noticed the sudden drop in his mood and the lack of your presence, but they don’t say anything. His fans have also noticed a change in his demeanor, commenting on how sad he looks and how you haven’t recorded with the triplets in a long time.

“There’s a party later at Mario’s. You going?” Matt asks Chris, both of them sitting in the living room. Chris wanted to say no, but he quickly decided that today was going to be the day he got over you. “Who’s going?” Chris asks, wanting to make sure he wasn’t going to walk into a situation where he’d have to confront you. “I don’t know? People?” Matt replies sassily, rolling his eyes at Chris’s stupid question. How was he supposed to know who was going? “Yeah I’ll go,” Chris says, not putting too much importance in Matt’s sassy attitude.

As the party nears, Chris spends an abnormally long time getting ready. If this was his reentry back into the ‘dating’ world, he needed to look good. “Chris! Hurry up!” Nick yells from upstairs, he and Matt waiting impatiently on the couch for Chris to finish getting ready. “I’m ready!” Chris yells back, running up the stairs to show his brothers the outfit he put together. “How do I look?” He asks, stretching his shirt out so his brothers can gain a better view. “You look normal. Let’s go,” Nick says annoyed, not even looking at Chris’s outfit.

The drive to party isn’t too long and the whole time Chris finds himself wondering if you’ll be there. Mario was a mutual friend of yours so maybe, just maybe, you’d be there. He wants you to be there, but he also doesn’t know what he’ll do or say to you. Would you even want to talk to him? If you did, what would he say? What would you say?

The three of them arrive to the party, making their way inside the house and weaving in and out of the crowd to find their group of friends. Chris can’t help but scan each room for you. He feels both sad and relieved when he doesn’t find you. He dabs up his friends as he passes them, grabbing a drink along the way. As he’s taking a swig, he finally sees you. He does a double take, trying to make sure it’s actually you.

You’re standing outside talking to some guy Chris has never seen before. Immediately the jealousy and rage fills Chris’s body. Who the fuck is that guy? “I’m gonna go find Madi. I’ll be right back,” Nick shouts over the music, patting Chris’s shoulder to grab his attention. Chris breaks his attention from you briefly to look at Nick. “What?” Chris asks loudly, he didn’t hear Nick on account of the music and because he was too busy keeping tabs on you. “I’m gonna go find Madi!” Nick shouts louder as he begins to walk away.

When Nick leaves, Chris looks back to where you were standing, but you’re no longer there. He looks around him, doing a full 360 in an attempt to find you again. His mind was racing with the thought of you and that guy. Where were you? Did you sneak off with him? Who the fuck even is that guy? “I’ll be back,” Chris dismisses himself from Matt and his group of friends quickly, rushing out of the room to look for you. Everyone gives him weird looks, but quickly revert back to their previous conversations.

At this point Chris has gone up and down the stairs so many times he feels his calves burning. It feels like he’s entered every room at least 50 times but he still can’t find you. He’s about to give up as he rounds a corner, somehow finding a room he hasn’t entered. The door is cracked open slightly and from the corner of his eye he sees you. You’re sitting on the bed with the same guy as before.

It takes everything in him to stop himself from barging in. He watches attentively to see what you two are doing. So far, it looks like you’re just talking, but the anger doesn’t dissipate from his body at the sight of you with another man. When you lean into the guy Chris decides he’s seen enough. He barges into the room abruptly, causing you and your friend to jump apart in shock.

“Oops, didn’t see you guys,” Chris says sarcastically, a fake smile plastered on his face. “Chris?” you ask, still in shock at how he barged in. He ignores you, instead looking at your friend before saying, “you can leave now.”

Your friend doesn’t say anything, he just gets up and hurriedly leaves the room sensing that something he wasn’t meant to see was about to happen. “What the fuck are you doing?” you ask in anger. This was the first time you’ve even seen Chris in months, let alone spoken to him and of course you two are already arguing. “Who the fuck was that?!” He answers your question with a question, his tone so much louder than yours already.

“My friend!?” You respond as if it wasn’t already obvious that the guy who was just in here is just your friend. “Yeah, that’s why you’re in here alone right?” The question is rhetorical and it’s such a stupid statement. Friends can be alone, what the fuck was he going on about? “You know what? I’m not putting up with your shit,” you stand from the bed, ready to walk out and leave this behind you.

Chris blocks your path and grabs your face in his hands, pulling you into an aggressive kiss. He isn’t thinking, he’s just acting out of anger and desperation. He needed a reason to keep you in here longer. You don’t pull away, even if you know you should.

Before you know it, the both of you are caught in a steamy and aggressive make out session. His hands are moving from your face to your body, roaming it like it’s the first time. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in closer to you. His hands rub circles in your ass before cupping your thighs to pick you up. As if on cue, you jump up and wrap your legs around him. You’re both so in sync, his touch was enough to trigger your body to act on muscle memory.

With you wrapped around him, he walks forward to lay you on the bed. The second you hit the bed he becomes gentle with you. He was never gentle with you, at least not like this. You’re now laying under him on the bed and for once he’s not letting his gaze wander all over your body. His eyes are locked on yours, he wants you to know that nothing matters in this moment more than you. “Chris-“ you begin, but he hushes you with another kiss.

“Just you and me, baby,” he whispers, moving from your lips to your neck slowly. He undresses you slowly, not breaking eye contact with you for a second. If you tell him or give him any reason to believe you don’t want this, he’s ready to stop. Your eyes are glossed over with lust and you feel your core clench with every passing second. “Please,” you whimper, wanting nothing more than to feel him after all these months without him.

“Tell me, baby,” he encourages you to use your words, he’s ready to make you his once you say it. “I need you, Chris,” you whimper, propping yourself on your elbows as you watch him undress. Your mouth waters at the sight, this feels so different from all the other times you’ve had sex and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Even if it’s at a loud house party it feels so intimate.

He’s inside you without a warning, but he’s so gentle and slow that it sends a shiver up your spine. A moan escapes his mouth, his forehead flush with yours as he holds your neck for support. He missed you so much that he could cum just from the look on your face. Your mouth is agape, small moans slipping from you with each thrust. The feeling of him inside you is intensified by the realization that he isn’t just fucking you, he’s making love to you.

His head drops to your shoulder as he pants your name, the pleasure of you being wrapped around him sending him closer and closer to the edge. Your nipples are grazing against his chest and his pelvis is rubbing against your clit with each thrust, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure against the pillow. As you feel your climax approaching, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in closer. That’s what sends Chris over the edge, his hot spurts of cum filling you up before he can pull out. His groans fill the room, his arms trembling as he struggles to keep himself from falling onto you.

His hot breath grazes your neck with each moan, as he slowly rides his climax with a few more strokes inside you. You climax right after him, clenching around him repeatedly. He’s now whimpering against your neck as you clench around him, so sensitive and vulnerable to your touch. Chris stays inside you for a little longer, only using his remaining strength to lift himself off you slightly. You looks so beautiful under him, he wishes he could take a picture and keep it forever.

The moment is so precious, but you can’t help but chuckle at how you ended up here in the first place. “He’s gay by the way,” you whisper, not wanting to ruin the beautiful moment you just shared. “What?” Chris chuckles in confusion, finally pulling out of you. He lays next to you, pulling you into his body because he’s not ready to let go just yet. “My friend. He’s gay,” you respond, pushing his sweaty hair away from his forehead.

Chris thinks for a minute, finally remembering the friend in question. He lets out a boisterous laugh, his chest vibrating against you. “Sorry, I thought he was getting it in with my girl,” he apologizes through small chuckles. You laugh too, bringing Chris in for another quick kiss.

“Your girl?” you ask with a goofy smile, tracing mindless shapes against the arm that was wrapped around you. “My girl,” he responds with finality. He kisses you again, his arms holding you tightly against him. He’s never letting you go again.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: if it’s a crime I don’t have more fics, here I give you toxic, slutty Chris. This is my first time writing smut in a longggg time so don’t be too harsh. I’m still not sure if I’m going to make it a regular thing for my stories to occasionally include smut, but this story was fun to write and very different from everything I’ve written thus far. Also, if you guys prefer Matt stories over Chris stories that’s fine I’ll write more for Matt soon. I’m also working on a PLATONIC Nick story so we’ll see when I post that. K byeeeee

- L.A.M.B 👼🏻💗

388 notes · View notes

fanfictilltheend · 8 months ago

Text

❤️‍🔥Violent Heart Part 2: ♪Remember when I moved in you, and the holy dove was moving too ♫ (or the VERY DARK Stepdad!Mechanic!Covict!Joel x Afab!you one)❤️‍🔥

Hi I apologize that a lot of these reference pics are just of white girls. I tried to find "aesthetic" images that go with the story but so many of them are just of white people and I want to call myself out for this because in the fic's only descriptors are that she has hair and is AFAB -- nothing about race. I also realize that all of the girls in this are skinny too and Y/N's body type is never specified. Sorry fam!! These images are just to get the creative juices flowing and don't truly depict anything from the fic!!

A/n: It’s here!!!!!! 18+ Only. This took me 7 freaking months so you mofos better like, reblog, and comment. This is both my most and least personal fic I’ve ever written and it is dark and relies heavily on plot (smut this time tho!!) READ ALL OF THE TAGS DO NOT COME FOR ME UNLESS YOU DID THIS FR FR. This ones for my dark joel fangirlies(guys and NBies) and the daddy issues fam ily ❤️‍🔥 (also not me naming my fic in part after hallelujah by leonard cohen but there is a reason!!!!!!!!!!)

Summary: Part 2 picks up with Y/N at age 20 and how her relationship with Joel has changed and gets steamier. SMUT and feelings <3 Also check out this playlist of music that’s in the fic!!!!

Tags (PLEASE READ): Afab!you, pov change, Infidelity, threats, age gap, dressing Joel up (swear I wrote this before he wore that outfit to the SAG awards — the mr.Darcy-core one), racist comment (from Y/N’s douchey boyfriend), douchey boyfriend, confidence issues, feelings, voyeurism, masturbation (m and f), kissing, penis in vagina sex — unprotected (wear a condom), lightest hint of ass play, scar worship?? kinda??, daddy issues, daddy kink, using music lyrics to move the plot, multiple orgasms (m and f), religion and god discussions, stepcest (kinda bc technically he is divorced from her mother), tagging psuedo-incest just to be safe!!, use of y/n

Word Count: ~13k

PART 1

AO3 Link

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a little crush on Joel Miller. How could you not have? The first day you’d met him had been like some kind of fucked up yet extremely satisfying whirlwind of a daydream. He’d come in, broad and tall and strong, and saved you from your evil (though you do love him somewhere deep, deep down) older brother’s onslaught. Protected you like a knight in shining armor from his punching, beating fists. Treated and touched you so tenderly, so many miles different from how your own father did that you’d been hit with whatever the pleasant opposite of whiplash is. And the way he finally punished Aiden after years of his reign of terror, the violence of it, the justice of it. You didn’t have words for it then, but the way you looked into Joel’s eyes when he was doling out that righteous punishment became some kind of strange secret understanding between the two of you. Maybe it was the first sign of love? You aren’t sure.

As a kid, he’d given you what you like to think of as quiet butterflies. They were always there when he spoke to you, looked at you, touched you, beat the shit out of your father and brother for you, but they were faint enough that you could ignore them. It was a comforting, fluttering kind of love, a gradual understanding of your loyalty to one another. But then puberty hit and the insects became incessantly loud when you thought of, wrote to, or talked to him. They ate at your heart day after day while Joel was in prison – the longing, the missing. Aiden told you that you were obsessed with him. Your mother told you to forget him, that he would forget you. But somehow, he didn’t. You wonder if those bugs live in him too. You wonder if they are quiet or loud and if they gnaw .

You think that they are probably loud. You think this for a few reasons. The first is that you know for a fact, you can feel it in the lining of your soul, and from the evidence of his constant correspondence and care for you, that he is just as obsessed with you as you are with him. The second reason is the fact that you think but aren’t one hundred percent sure is that the last time you’d hugged him he’d gotten a little hard (you don’t want to think too much into that because he is only a man who had been deprived of touch for a long time – but still you wonder…). And the third is the way he looks at you like you are the universe like you are the last drop of nectar and he is the last butterfly left on Earth in a famine.

That’s how he’s looking at you now in the passenger seat of his old, clunky pickup. You know that he wanted to drive, but you wanted to show him how well you could because he had never seen. Never had the chance to see how well you had fixed, maintained, and took care of his baby and of course he gave into you like he always does. He's smiling at you quietly, but his eyes contain multitudes. Right now mostly pride at your driving.

Joel is a bit different than how you remember sitting near him in the truck the last time you were together, him as a free man, you as a little girl. Somehow, even though you are obviously bigger now, he still seems massive and broad and stronger than ever. His biceps are huge – probably from all the time he had to work out in prison – and peeking out under his blue t-shirt that you brought for him, you think you see the outlines of some tattoos. You look a little closer. On his right arm is text in curvy black ink. You think it reads, “Sarah.” You smile softly at that. On his other arm is a strange orange shape that you have to squint at to understand. The edges of the object are jagged but they form a shape like a badge – and then you know what it is! It is the guitar pick you made for Joel as a child. The one that had pricked his finger and drawn blood and he stuck it in his wallet. You can’t articulate how honored you feel that Joel loved you enough to tattoo something you made for him on his body, permanently, forever.

“ Well , the light only turned green damn near eons ago,” he complains about your driving, but you know he is just teasing.

There is hardly anything wrong you can ever do in Joel’s eyes. He grins at you a bit lopsidedly and you smile back. You also can’t help but notice the greying of his brown hair. It’s a bit longer than it used to be too and the length gives it a little bit less of a shaggy look. You think it suits him, makes him look a bit older and more distinguished than when he first came into your life twelve years ago.

Objectively, you know it’s weird to think that your ex-stepdad who is a convicted felon is hot, but it’s just something you’ve always known and thought like that the sky is blue or that orange is your favorite color. You know it’s weird to think of someone who was? – is? – supposed to be a father figure to you that way, but it’s already second nature at this point. You’ve had a few boyfriends (luckily all of them had treated you right), but none of the feelings you’ve ever had for them have compared to the cosmic-sized love and affection you have for Joel and you’ve never known anything different. The years you spent longing, missing, loving, obsessing over, and aching for him in every way under the sun, can’t be healthy, you know this, but they have eclipsed practically every other relationship in your life. No one has ever made you feel as safe and protected and loved as Joel has. No one else has ever looked at you the way he does. No one else’s entire existence has revolved around you the way his has. The sheer devotion in his gaze is enough to make the butterflies inside you scream and beat their wings against your insides like hungry bats.

And you especially know you shouldn’t have these feelings about another human being violent enough to be capable of taking a life – inebriated or not. You’re grown now and know the man he killed was a scum-of-the-Earth child predator, and secretly you’ve always wondered if there was more to the story than Joel told the police in the official court transcripts you’d read as an adult, maybe even something to do with you since you had been there that day in the repair shop when they met , but you haven’t pressed because you’re sure the whole thing is quite traumatic for Joel and if he ever wants to tell you, you know he will. And more importantly, you don’t really care. Drunken, violent idiot or not, you were already deeply invested and never intended on wavering in that. You’re not sure there’s anything Joel could do to get you to stop loving him and that both terrifies and excites you.

“Okay, whatcha wanna eat?” you ask, reaching out to rub Joel’s shoulder gently. “Now that you’re free you can have whatever you want! On my mom’s credit card of course. Swear I won’t tell her.”

Joel grins.

“Deal,” he tells you. “I was thinking of a nice steak dinner.”

***

You pull into the fanciest restaurant you can find in the tri-state area and sit down to order a regal, all-American, full three-course steak dinner (though you’re both woefully underdressed – not that you care – though the host gives you a dirty look). All the while, you tell Joel about your major (psychology) and how you want to become a counselor for abused children.

“That’s sort of beautiful, sweetheart,” he tells you with a genuine smile that used to be so hard to coax from him, but now seems to float over to you so easily and gently like a kiss from something as soft as the wings of a butterfly. “Wanting to help defenseless children. You’re kinda like a guardian angel for them, ya know? Damn proud of ya! Also, these mashed potatoes are goddamn delectable!” he exclaims after taking an experimental bite. “Have I mentioned that prison food is shit?”

You smile bashfully and want to tell him that he is your guardian angel (you wonder if he thinks the same of you) and inspiration in a backward sort of way for wanting to help kids in the first place since he was so good at protecting you for the most part (though you obviously don’t believe violence is the correct answer in your line of future work). But kids need protectors. Somehow you know that deep down you forgive him for all of the violence he caused because you would forgive him for anything. And him being proud of you? You don’t think there’s a better feeling in the world than that! You burst with pride. Your real father never said that to you, but Joel doesn’t feel like your father now. He is something different entirely. Something that entirely belongs to you.

“And you’ll meet my boyfriend, Max, tomorrow,” you nod as Joel moves onto the steak and lets out a soft moan at how good it tastes. “He’s heard a lot about you.”

Joel’s face flattens.

“And who is this kid exactly?” he sneers a little, attacking the steak with his knife.

You smile internally at the obvious jealousy he’s trying to hide from his voice.

“Hey, Max is a decent guy!” you insist in his defense. “He’s pre-law. Real smart. He’s gonna be an important person someday, I know it. You’ll get on.”

That last part is a bit of a lie since you’re not sure the two will actually like each other.

Joel examines your face, looks deep into your eyes.

“All I know is, just because someone is important, don’t mean they’re good to you or for you for that matter.”

You can’t help but think of your father, the most “important” man you know and how much of a degenerate he is compared to someone ostensibly average like Joel who didn’t even have a status symbol like a college degree and how perfect of a man you think he is, despite his obvious flaws. You blush a little, scrunching up your nose.

“Just lookin’ out for you, sweetheart,” he continues, smiling at the way you do. “He ever fuck with you – he ever break your heart, you know just where to send him, alright?”

“Yeah, Joel,” you grin. “Don’t need you getting any more jail time though, alright?” “You may have made a valid point,” he concedes with a smirk.

***

When you two enter your shitty, one-bedroom apartment it’s already dark outside. Joel actually grins when he notices his and your guitars have both been mounted on the wall.

“We can play ‘em tomorrow,” you tell him excitedly. “If you want to, I mean…”

“Hell yeah, I do,” Joel smiles. “Wanna hear ya singing for me, honey. I missed that.”

You smile to yourself.

“You can have my bed, and I’ll take the couch,” you decide, getting back to business.

“No way, babygirl. I ain’t taking your bed.”

“Joel, you’ve literally been on a prison mattress for eight fucking years! Can’t imagine that’s been very comfortable.”

“That’s exactly why I won’t mind the couch. That’ll feel like heaven to me. Don’t want you messin’ up your back, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth, but Joel beats you.

“And that’s that,” he insists.

“Alright, alright,” you concede, knowing by the look on his face he’s not budging. If one thing, Joel has always been stubborn, but you like that about him. “D’you wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Actually, baby, if ya don’t mind, I’d like a quick shower. Been dreaming about taking a real, private one for ages.”

“Yeah, of course!” you nod, motioning toward your bathroom door. “Towels are under the sink.”

Joel makes his way inside and soon steam is billowing out the bottom of the door.

You busy yourself with some homework, but just as you walk past the door to grab a glass of water, you think you hear Joel singing.

You listen more closely over the fall of the running water and make out him singing the chorus of an old ABBA song with a deeper, sadder tone to it,

♪ “ Slipping through my fingers all the time / I try to capture every minute / The feeling in it / Slipping through my fingers all the time / Do I really see what's in her mind? / Each time I think I'm close to knowing / She keeps on growing / Slipping through my fingers all the time…” ♫

You feel like such a sap, but you feel a tear forming in your eye at the way Joel must be thinking about his and your relationship and everything he missed in your life. You aren’t mad at him, but his absence hurt in a way you didn’t know you could feel. And you’ve never blamed him, really, but the lack of him for eight years of milestones really did kill a piece of you. You can’t help but imagine a butterfly at the bottom of your stomach with its wings pulled off. That’s how you felt all that time without Joel – like a butterfly without wings. A writhing worm of a human being, senseless and lost in a giant world full of forces you couldn’t control.

You listen to Joel’s beautiful, deep voice until you hear him turn off the tap and you scurry away and act innocent.

Joel emerges from the bathroom then with nothing but a white towel around his waist, steam from the shower floating lazily into the room behind him like precession. And oh, wow, is he ever a sight to behold. His hair is wet, dark brown flecked with grey, and starting to get curly from the moisture. You also can’t help but notice his broad chest, the expanse of it, the dark curls of hair, his bulking, muscular tattooed arms, his soft, hairy tummy, the V-shape of muscle that descends beneath the towel, his happy trail. You are overwhelmed by the soaking beauty of him. You’d seen Joel shirtless before, sure, but it had never felt like this .

“Gon’ grab some of those clothes you bought for me and then maybe we could watch something?” Joel asks as you try so fucking hard not to stare at him.

“Sure!” you squeak, staring down at your notebook at the kitchen counter.

You think you see a smirk from Joel, but you're not sure because your gaze is averted as he grabs some clothes to change into and disappears back into the bathroom.

When he reemerges, dressed in a wifebeater and shorts that accentuate his form, you two sit next to each other on your cushy sofa and surf the TV for something to watch. You feel Joel’s hairy knees against your jean-clad one and your heart flutters.

“Can’t believe I’m really here,” Joel says softly as you pass re-runs of Full House, a dog show. “Like I gotta fuckin’ pinch myself to know it’s not a dream.”

Suddenly you feel a large, weathered hand on your cheek.

“Missed you so much, babygirl,” he murmurs, looking into your eyes, massaging the line of your jaw ever so lightly, trying to hold your skittish gaze. “More than I even have words for.”

First, you avoid looking at him a bit bashfully, but then you stare up cautiously into those big brown eyes that feel like a familiar kind of home and you’re such a goner. You lean into his warmth, the warmth of his hand.

“Missed you too, Joel. So much,” you admit, never wanting this moment to end or him to let go of you. “More than anything.”

He leans forward a little and for a second you think…but then he’s leaning in and planting a heavy kiss on your forehead. A kiss that has weight to it – not those soft, weak ones that Max gives you haphazardly when he’s drunk or high – the only time he’s brave enough to be vulnerable with you. This kiss says something, means it so sincerely too.

“Love you, honey,” he tells you. Then his face falls. “Sorry I…wasn’t quite there to say that to you enough in person.”

“It’s okay, Joel. I forgive you,” you insist. “I love you so much, dummy. More than you even know!”

But you truly do appreciate the sentiment.

***

You settle on an old, black and white classic, Paper Moon, that’s playing on the TV Land channel.

Joel wraps a big arm around you and you snuggle close. You’re pretty sure there isn’t a better feeling in the world than being this close to him. Even after all these years he still smells like Joel; like home (and, if you’re being honest, a bit like your vanilla shampoo) .

You lean against him, your cheek pressing into one of his firm pecs. You begin to feel sleepy, drunk on the steady sound of his heartbeat, alive and beating against you and really here .

You nod off.

***

At first, you don’t believe it, but you feel someone with strong, firm arms lifting you into the air, cradling your back and the insides of your knees in a bridal-style carry. The movement wakes you, but you don’t open your eyes because the safety and security you feel is too good to give up. Joel carries you to your bedroom and lays you down gently in your bed. You’re still in day clothes and shoes so Joel takes off your worn sneakers with a feather-light touch and places them at the foot of the bed – you can tell from the soft thumps it makes. He maneuvers you so tenderly under the covers and tucks you in with love and care. You wonder the last time someone did that for you and pull up a blank. If anyone ever did that for you it was probably Joel. Maybe your mom did when you were really young. Certainly your father nor Aiden ever did – your father hadn’t liked to touch you except out of anger – kind of like you had some kind of weird, contagious disease. Aiden’s hands had almost always hurt too, but not Joel’s – never his.

He breaks you from your thoughts by pressing another kiss to your forehead. Your eyes are still closed so you aren’t sure, but you think he watches you for a second and lets out a long sigh.

Then you hear your bedroom door close softly so as not to disturb you. You smile, you can’t help it, and drift back off into a peaceful sleep.

***

You wake up to a mumbling, grunting sort of sound. You look over at your clock and read 3:42 a.m. You sit up. You can kind of hear some muffled noises coming from outside your room. At first, you feel a little concerned – like maybe Joel is in pain or something as he is the only one who could be making the noises. The walls in your apartment are paper-thin. Like you could hear him sneeze clear as day if he were to because sound travels through the shitty walls so easily. You should have told him that. But what the fuck is he doing up at 3 a.m.?

You creep (and you mean creep) silently to the door of your bedroom and open it the tiniest crack. The way your apartment is laid out, the back of the sofa is the first thing you see and the back of Joel’s head about six feet away. He doesn’t sound in pain the way he’s groaning and then you understand exactly what he’s doing. Of course the man is jerking off! After being in prison, stuck around people for so long of course he wanted a good, private wank. He isn’t looking at anything from what you can tell, no magazines or anything. Must be using his imagination. You wonder what he’s thinking about, if he’s gotten good at that over the years.

You should turn around, slink back into bed, and cover your ears with a pillow so the man can have some privacy. But, fuck, the way he’s grunting. His voice is so fucking deep and sexy and then he lets out a soft, vulnerable moan and you feel heat envelope your whole body. You think you hear a soft fuck roll off his tongue and your heart almost beats right out of your chest. You can hear the lewd slapping of his fist on skin getting louder and more intense. Then you hear a soft take it, fuck. And Jesus, you are so fucking wet between your thighs. You ought to be ashamed. Instead, you reach down your hand feverishly beneath the band of your jeans and soaking underwear instinctively to stroke yourself ever so slightly. You sigh in relief, but you are fucking gushing, your fingers covered in your slick. You can’t see anything besides the back of Joel’s head, technically, so this couldn’t be that wrong, could it? He lets out a soft groan, you can tell he’s holding back so as not to be heard, but the desperation in the pathetic little noises this hulking man is making is turning on every switch inside you. Oh how you want to go over there and take him in your mouth, to taste him. God you are so fucked up! You’re still touching yourself gently, not really fully going at it yet, considering the possibilities that could follow if you went over there. But before you can decide to do anything, Joel positively whines, moans, and grunts fuck, unh, and you think but aren’t sure, babygirl, and finishes.

You stop dead still in what you’re doing. Did he really say “babygirl” or was that just your horny-ass imagination playing tricks on you? You’ve never heard Joel call anyone babygirl except you. Was he really thinking of you? On the one hand, if true, mega fucked up. On the other, wow, incredibly hot. You think about going over there and asking him to finish you off or something as crazy as in all those dumb romance novels you used to read in middle school, but just as quickly as the idea comes to you, you hear another noise: loud snoring. Joel is asleep.

Typical.

You snort to yourself. That was so quintessentially Joel. You don’t want to disturb him now. The moment has passed. And only then is when you remember you have a fucking boyfriend.

That doesn’t stop you from closing your door softly, crawling back into bed, and reaching your hand down beneath your panties to touch yourself. You stroke your clit, imagining it is Joel’s rough hand rubbing against you. Holy fuck. You haven’t been this wet since you used to touch yourself thinking about him in the past. It’s like he can reach every part of you, every layer in a way that no one else can. You know the whole thing is so fundamentally fucked up, but you can resist sinking into your favorite fantasy. The smell, the touch, the feel of him. You imagine the noises he was making so beautifully on the couch, feel heat coil through your entire body, and immediately cum hard without even sticking a finger inside yourself.

The pleasure you feel is so unparalleled and real you have to cover your hand with your mouth not to scream out your powerful orgasm.

Sweat drenches your whole body as you come down.

God, you are so fucked.

***

The next morning you wake up to the wafting smell of someone cooking eggs. You emerge from your room a little sheepishly from last night’s events to find Joel behind the kitchen counter making eggs and toast.

“Mornin’, babygirl,” he grins, his eyes shining like he’s excited about something.

And then you realize: that something is you.

You grin back.

“Good morning, Joel,” you beam at him.

You were so afraid things would feel awkward after what you heard last night, but nothing ever feels awkward with Joel. In some ways, he’s still just your average dorky, friendly old ex-stepdad, convicted felon. In other ways, everything about him sets your heart on fire, but it would be stupid to ruin what you have with him because you think it’s remotely possible he might be interested back. You know this is dramatic, but if he flat-out rejected you, you think you might die. Truly. Like those butterflies inside you would beat their wings so hard they’d burst your heart.

“‘Membered you liked ‘em poached,” he nods, breaking you from your thoughts.

He scoops two poached eggs onto one of your plates and grabs a piece of toast from the toaster which he smears with butter like how you used to eat toast as a kid. You can’t believe he remembered.

“Thanks so much,” you tell him.

He grabs a few eggs and toast for himself and sits beside you at the counter.

“Nice to be able to cook me ‘n you some real food,” he remarks. “If I eat one more cup o’ noodles in my lifetime I swear to God Almighty…” he trais off.

He’s looking at you like you put the goddamned sun in the sky. Your heart melts as you stare at his features, the faint curls in his hair. Oh, how you want to reach out and touch him. But that just isn’t how you operate. You won’t ruin what you already have.

The butterflies in your chest howl.

***

` You lay out the day’s schedule to Joel. You have plenty of time to hang about (you see him eyeing the guitars), and then you need to go shopping for some actual clothes for Joel since the things you brought for him don’t constitute a proper wardrobe. Then you will go out to dinner and meet Max.

Joel grunts a nod at that last part. He doesn’t seem too thrilled.

“Wanna show me what you’ve been playing?” he asks hopefully as he gets up to put both of your plates in the sink,

“‘Course!” you nod enthusiastically. “Max says I need to work on my fingerpicking so I can’t promise it’ll be all that good.”

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Show me what you’ve got.”

***

You sit down on the couch right next to Joel, each of you holding your respective guitars in hand, across your laps.

Joel looks ecstatic to have his guitar back in his hands. He fiddles with the tuning and finger-picks a faint melody.

“Haven’t played one since the prison band. But then some dumb motherfucker clobbered another sorry son of a bitch to death with a saxophone so that ended our music privileges,” Joel explains.

“Jeez,” you reply.

Joel is sitting so close you can feel his body heat. You just want to hear him sing, but he insists on hearing you.

“Joel,” you try as innocently as possible. “D’you remember how to do an A-flat? I forget and I need it for my song.”

“Sure, baby. Lemme help ya. Now put one finger on this bit of the 4th fret here,” he begins, snaking a big arm around your shoulders so he can maneuver your fingers to the correct position.

His touch is electric. He feels so good and warm. You feel the intense urge to climb into his lap and embrace and stay there forever. His big caloused hand full of scars places your fingers correctly for the chord. The same hand that must have jerked himself to completion last night…You can’t help but wonder how much cum there was…The truth is, you know how to make an A-flat. You just wanted to feel him.

He backs away and you whine internally at the loss.

“There we go,” he says soothingly, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “That one can be tricky. Now where is my performance?”

Your nerves are squirming around inside you but you begin to play and sing to the best of your ability.

You look into Joel’s eyes.

♪“ You've got a heart on fire / It's bursting with desire / You've got a heart filled with passion / Will you let it burn for hate or compassion?” ♫ you sing.

Joel watches you intently, sitting up straighter.

♪ “What's the point with a love / That makes you hate and kill for? ♪

You sing as best and as seriously as you can. You look up and think you maybe see a tear in Joel’s eye.

When you finish, it’s clear Joel is finding it hard to select the right words to convey what he’s feeling.

“I–” he tries. “That was…well, let me just show you how I can answer that if anyone ever could to a performance as beautiful as that.”

You blush.

He begins to finger-pick a familiar tune, Instantly, you are transported back to eight years old in the back of Joel’s old pickup truck, listening to one of his many cassette tapes. It’s “I’ll Never Find Another You” by The Seekers. The original version of the song is pretty happy and upbeat, but the way Joel sings it slowly in his deep and weathered voice makes you feel sad and achy inside. The emotion behind his voice is palpable.

♪ “But if I should lose your love, dear / I don't know what I'd do / For I know I'll never find another you / Another you / Another you…” ♫ he trails off.

It’s your turn to tear up a little. It’s crazy to know he means every word he’s singing too. He sings like every word is his last breath. When he finishes you are crying a little.

“You oughta record an album,” you sniffle, leaning into his shoulder, throwing him a side hug.

“Wanted to be a singer,” he replies with a small grin, leaning his head against yours. “Back when I was young.”

You sit back up straight.

“You did? I never knew that.”

“Don’t tell nobody really,” Joel replies, looking a bit sad you left his immediate proximity. “Just a stupid dream ‘n all that crap.”

“‘S not stupid,” you tell him. “You really have a beautiful voice, Joel. It’s like if I could take it, hold on to it, and keep it forever in my chest pocket next to my heart, I would.”

“That’s where I keep you, baby,” he tells you honestly.

He reaches up a big hand to yours and guides your own to place it right on his heart over his plaid shirt. You can feel it beating steadily below your palm to the rhythm of something as delicate and ferocious as the beating of butterfly wings.

“Right here.”

***

You take Joel shopping. At his insistence it is nothing fancy, just the local department store. That doesn’t stop you from dressing Joel up in ridiculous outfits of your choosing. You make him try on a Hawaiian shirt, some golf polos like your dad liked to wear, a pinstripe suit and he lets you because saying no to you has never been in his vocabulary. He acts grumpy on the outside, but you can tell he is amused. You know in the end, you’ll just end up buying every flannel shirt and jeans combo they have in the store, but it’s just fun anyway. You watch the fabric hug his torso, his tummy, the slight bulge at his waist. At one point he comes out shirtless and you try very hard not to swoon as you stare at the hair lining his chest and his adorable little tummy that you for some reason have the urge to bite. The band of his Hanes boxers sticks up past his jeans and he looks so good. He even lets out a genuine smile. The middle-aged sales attendant who is helping you even takes a good look at him which makes the butterflies inside you swarm possessively.

Finally, you make him try on a proper white-collared button-down shirt and black dress pants with matching black shoes and he looks so good you’re actually at a loss for words when he asks you what you think. They hug the curves and lines and planes of his body so nicely. All you can do is ask him to put on a black tie to match and he does at your behest following some customary griping that he would never wear such a monkey suit in the first place. The effect that a fully dressed-up Joel has on you is not one to be reckoned with. He might as well be wearing the men’s version of lingerie for how it makes you throb and ache between your legs. He looks like a force of nature, commanding and tall. It makes you weak. All you say is,

“Looking good, old-timer.”

He snorts.

When you finally ditch all the fun clothes and grab the essentials, Joel offers to go pick up the car while you pay. He tries to give you his eight-year-old credit card, but you insist on treating him on the condition he buys the “monkey suit.” After a bit of prodding, he gives in and you go to the sales attendant to pay at the counter.

“Your dad is really cute,” the sales attendant giggles to you as she rings up the pile of clothes.

Your cheeks go a bit red. You don’t really care enough to correct her.

“He’s my guy,” is all you say absentmindedly as you fish out your wallet from your purse.

The sales attendant hands you the receipt and on it, you see a scrawled phone number.

“For If he’s single,” she explains. “I’m Barb from sales.”

You look her over. She’s close to Joel’s age and conventionally pretty with long brown hair. The exact kind of woman Joel should be dating should he choose to get back in the game. Your stomach twists and the butterflies howl inside you.

You take the receipt, thank her, and join Joel back in the car (who is more than happy to be driving this time).

“What took so long?” he asks casually. “You two writing a novel in there?”

You think seriously about what you should do. You consider letting the bugs have their way and tearing the receipt with Barb’s number on it to shreds. But you want good things for Joel. The chance of you two ever being together the way you wish is so far-fetched that you know you shouldn’t even be thinking it. A literal pipe dream. He was your stepdad for christsakes. He literally fucked your mother! (Gross!). Barb is exactly the kind of woman Joel should be going after if he’s up to dating right now. You hand him the receipt begrudgingly.

“Sales Lady likes you,” you sat flatly. “Name is Barb.”

“Oh,” he says softly like he’s a bit flattered.

He looks back at her through the glass door of the store and she waves at him. He waves back politely. You feel your stomach twisting into knots.

“You think…you think you’re gonna call her?” you finally ask as casually as humanly possible, dreading the answer.

Joel looks over at you, his gaze sweeping over you. Then looks back at Barb through the window. He looks her up and down.

“Nah,” he says with a smirk, looking back at you. “She ain’t my type. Only need one girl in my life right now anyways,” he winks.

Was that Joel flirting? With you?

Regardless, you smile back and then sigh in relief and grin to yourself as you two drive away.

Much to your satisfaction, Joel crumples up the receipt and throws it out the window for good measure.

***

You get ready for dinner, to go to a nice Mexican-Japanese fusion restaurant that Max picked out. You wear a red dress that accentuates your figure and matching heels and to your shock, Joel reemerges from the bathroom in the white button-down shirt and black dress pants you picked out for him (you had been sure flannel would be part of his ensemble). God, he looks good. A part of you wants to ditch Max and just stay here with Joel forever. He looks you over, his dark eyes sweeping over your frame. You think there is a tinge of possessiveness in his voice when he says,

“ Christ, you look beautiful, babygirl.”

***

You arrive before Max and sit down at the fancy white table-cloth-covered table next to Joel, a booth facing you. Max finally makes an appearance a half hour late and sits down across from you, sweeping his hair out of his face, sliding into the booth. Joel is frowning and the butterflies beat their wings inside you nervously.

“Sorry I’m late,” Max announces, puffing out his chest a little and smoothing out his collared shirt as he looks down at his watch and then over at Joel. “Hey, baby,” he says to you. Then, “And, uh, nice to meet you. Joe, was it? Heard a lot about you.”

“Joel,” Joel replies flatly, eyeing Max.

Max is a good-looking guy, everyone says so, but he looks more like a little boy than you’ve ever thought as he squirms uneasily in his seat under Joel’s unrelenting gaze and launches into a tirade about his frat’s inter-mural lacrosse team practice and how his team should have totally won the scrimmage and that’s why he’s late. And of course, he was the one to score the most goals.

“And the taxi cab driver was a nightmare. Only spoke Spanish. It’s like, if you come to this country speak fucking English, am I right?”

You notice Joel’s jaw tighten and his fingers clench.

“Max, that’s so rude!” you tell him, frowning. “We’re at a fucking Mexican restaurant!”

“Anyway,” Max continues, rolling his eyes at the interruption like he barely even heard you, smirking. “Where’d you go to school? What do you do for work, Joel? Besides making license plates, I mean. Kidding!” he insists as you stare daggers at him.

Joel leans forward ever so slightly but you slip your leg over his to hold him back and he calms down a fraction. It’s like when you touch him, everything tense in him melts away.

Joel sits up straighter in his chair and looks at you, stretching his arm across the back of your seat protectively like it’s a casual thing and not an unconscious sign of possessiveness.

“I’m a mechanic,” he grunts unceremoniously to Max. “I mean, I was anyways…Didn’t go to school.”

Max frowns ever so slightly.

“You didn’t go to college? You must’ve gone to trade school at least?”

“Nope. Picked up what I know over the years. Not everyone gets a free ride from their parents,” Joel smirks.

“Free ride?” Max snaps. “I’ll have you know I spend every summer interning at a law firm!”

“Yeah, your dad’s,” you can’t help but snicker.

Max’s cheeks turn a bit pink.

“At least I’m not a psych major,” he shoots back. “I mean, no offense, babe!”

“What’s wrong with psychology?” Joel snarls, his eyes darkening. “You ought to be proud to have such a thoughtful and intelligent girl like Y/N studying such a topic.”

It’s your turn for your cheeks to go pink.

“Joel–”

“Who said I wasn’t?” Max sneers.

That makes you feel a bit better.

“I’m just saying, she could have inherited the second-best law firm in the tri-state area from her pops if she was pre-law like me,” he smirks.

Your smile fades, used to hearing this kind of shit from him. He knows you and your father don’t get along at all, but not the full extent of it. He also knows you don’t have an interest in pre-law. But you swallow down how you really feel.

“It’s fine, Joel,” you tell him, placing a hand down on his thigh.

It’s not that you enjoy the way Max has been talking to you, but you are so used to it from the men in your life that it feels like the common denominator must be you. And sometimes it feels like maybe they have some kind of point. And fighting back only makes things worse. You’ve learned that over the years the hard way.

“It’s not fine!” he snaps like he’s trying to get you to see sense, looking deeply insulted on your behalf. Your heart thunders in your chest. “This boy has never worked an honest day in his life and he’s telling you what you ought to be doing? Bet his hands are soft as a baby’s ass. He doesn’t know shit about you, babygirl.”

You may not know the hardship of labor that Joel has taken on in his life, but your hands are not smooth. They are full of scars. And Joel is right. Max’s are soft like silk. You look down at the most prominent, ugly scar on your middle finger. You don’t even know which man in your life gave it to you. But you do know it means something. Shows you survived something. Survived your stupid father too, not that Max seems to care.

But Max never loses.

“Whatever,” he smirks dismissively. “Sorry I’m not some, like, common blue-collar worker. But I guess I should be taking advice from someone who became a fucking convicted felon ‘cause they drank too much one night,” he shrugs with a terrible sneer.

You know it’s over then.

But Joel surprises you. Doesn’t immediately strangle Max like you thought he might. Simply stands up tall and silent over Max’s frame which has suddenly begun to shake ever so slightly in obvious fear, his blue eyes widening. Joel’s fists are clenched tightly at his sides.

“Wouldn’t mind them sendin’ me right back in, ” Joel growls low. “Drunk or not.”

You shiver and Max positively cowers.

“Got something to say? Don’t wanna take it outside?” Joel leers, smirking ever so slightly at the trembling boy before him. “I’d even let a little boy like you take the first swing.”

“Your stepdad’s a freak, Y/N,” Max stammers, not taking his eyes off of Joel.

“Joel, it’s fine, okay?” you growl, not wanting him to actually hurt your boyfriend. Let alone in public! “Shouldn’t talk about Joel like that though, Max! Jesus!”

“Babe, I’m sorry, okay?” Max tries, eyeing back and forth between you and Joel. “I’m just trying to look out for you. I don’t get what you see in him with a real Dad like yours! Your dad has so much to give you!”

Look out for you? So much to give you? What could he possibly give besides a stupid law firm and two black eyes?

Max looks a bit desperate. Him apologizing for anything is actually a new concept for you. Your heart twitches ever so slightly. He must actually like you a lot. But Joel would never do anything to hurt you if it was in his power. At least not intentionally, unlike your real father.

“That’s it. I’m leaving,” Joel snarls moodily, turning around. “Don’t want to do things I might regret to Mr.Future-Corporate-Lawyer over here. Have fun with him .”

Joel looks deeply hurt. Like you are choosing Max over him or something. That’s never what this has been about, has it? Doesn’t Joel know you’d do anything for him? That the hurt on his face hurts you more than anything you’ve ever felt. Ever.

“Joel, wait!” you decide and disappear after him, leaving Max behind at the table.

“Babe, what the fuck!?” Max yells, but you don’t care. “Come back here!”

***

You ride back in silence, Joel’s hands turning white against his grip on the steering wheel.

When you break through to the front door of your apartment, Joel finally snaps, the anger on his face directed at something that feels like you for the first time in your life.

“You really love that little son of a bitch, don’t you?” he sneers, uncharacteristically harshly towards you.

“So what if I did?” you shoot back, a little shocked. “It’s none of your business, Joel. What the fuck?”

“It is so my business,” he snaps back. “That kid is no good for you, Y/N. He doesn’t understand you. You deserve someone much better than that who will actually go to the ends of the earth for you. He wouldn’t do anything for you.”

There is a desperation and vulnerability in Joel’s words and tone that you’re not sure you’ve heard before. He sounds like he had been waiting the whole car ride to say this, maybe even his whole life. You aren’t sure.

“Max does give a shit about me,” you try to convince yourself, getting angrier. “I mean at least he was there for me while you were gone.”

Joel flinches.

“How do you know what’s so good for me and what’s not when you dipped out of my life for eight years?” you continue harshly. “Because why? It wasn’t because you were drunk, was it? It was because you couldn’t control your anger. You never could.”

He stares at you.

“I controlled it for you,” Joel says so quietly you almost miss it. “ You are the only reason I did any of it.”

“What?” you stammer, not sure you want to hear more. “W-what do you mean, Joel? Any of what?”

A million thoughts begin to run through your mind, but you push them aside. Theories about the case and your ideas of Joel’s true nature all threaten to drown you but you push them away.

“Do you want to know why I really killed that sick son of a bitch?” Joel asks dangerously after a long moment of silence. You stare at him, your body frozen. He looks down at his hands, flexing them like he can still feel them punching or around that disgusting man’s throat. “Why I killed him all those years ago? It was no accident, I’ll give you that. Manslaughter, my ass. I killed that scum of the Earth because he threatened you . To do terrible things to you with those disgusting hands of his. So I broke each one, but it wasn’t enough. I killed him because I didn’t want you to get hurt and because I didn’t want you to live in fear of him. I was tired, Y/N. Tired of being afraid for you in a world that doesn’t let you do shit except fight back. I loved you so much, Y/N, it hurt me. It scared me, but I couldn’t let him hurt you. I’d die before I let anyone hurt you again, not him, not your father, not Max, not anyone. You have to understand. I love –”

And then it’s all over. You’re not sure who moves first, but you think it might be you. The butterflies are rustling and thundering and screeching inside you and you kiss him. And Joel kisses back, devouring your mouth in his. You grab the back of his graying brown hair and pull him as close to you as you think is humanly possible. He cradles the back of your head so gently you almost lose your breath. And you are kissing and kissing and kissing and kissing. There is nothing else in the universe except this kiss. You have never felt anything like this in your life. It is like every butterfly inside you has gone silent. It is like the world has stopped just for you and something new is forming inside you.

Joel killed that vile man for you. To keep you safe. Like he always said or showed that he would. He gave his life away for you. He did the unspeakable for you.

He bites down on your bottom lip and all your brain can manage to coherently think is: more, harder .

But then Joel is breaking away from you slowly.

NO! your heart cries out, the delicious pleasure and pain draining away from you. The butterflies swarm dangerously inside your chest, worse with every inch he travels from your lips.

“Joel,” you whine. “What? You…you don’t want–”

“Don’t even say that, Y/N,” he growls dangerously. “Of course I want you. How could I not? I have spent my entire life wanting you in some capacity, baby, but I ain’t no good for you either, alright? I…” he says slowly like it takes every inch of his body to agree to say this. “I am not a good man, Y/N. I never have been. I’ve done wrong in every chapter of my life. You deserve someone much better. I don’t want to hurt you. Physically or mentally. Our history… The damage I’ve done…” he trails off.

“You don’t understand,” you swallow, tears forming in your eyes. “You have already loved and hurt me more than any human being on planet Earth. And yet somehow there is nothing you could do that would keep me away from you, don’t you get that? The Joel Miller I love is not a good man and I don’t care. I want all of you. All of the pretty and crooked pieces you try to hide away from me. You killed a man with your bare hands, arguably one of the worst things a human can do, and I don’t care. I still want you, Joel. Maybe even more because of it. No one has ever loved me the way you do and that is the love I want and it terrifies me.”

A single tear falls down Joel’s right cheek. You reach up to wipe it away, but Joel grabs your hand on the way reflexively, so you help him wipe his own tears away.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I would move the Earth for you,” Joel whispers back.

“I know,” you nod. “I’ve always known. I–”

But he is kissing you again before you can say another word, like a man starved. You hold onto his cheeks, your fingers caressing his stubbly beard.

“ Joel,” you whine when you break for air.

“I wanted this so badly,” he says softly, grinning a lopsided grin. “Can’t believe this is real.”

“Me too,” you giggle.

You have to lean up a bit, but you press your forehead to his gently.

“Oh, baby,” Joel smirks. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive, ya know that? You like

it when I go a little rough, honey?” he smirks down at you in satisfaction, reading your mind.

You have to stop yourself from getting lost in the warm pools of his brown eyes, your panties soaked.

He reaches an affectionate hand down to rub your side softly.

“This okay, babygirl?” he coos, massaging his hand down your torso.

“I’d let you do anything to me, don’t you know?” you snicker. “Pain or pleasure, it’s all the same to me. I like all of that. I just want you so bad.”

“Think a safe word is in order,” Joel grins, leaning down to kiss your neck. “How about ‘butterflies?’” you suggest.

“Sounds good to me, baby,” he grins, looking genuinely happy for the first time in hours.

He leans down and places a calloused hand around your throat, not squeezing (yet – you hope) and plants soft kisses and bites down your expanse of skin.

“All mine,” he mutters into your skin. “My beautiful babygirl.”

You feel his erection pressing against you through his black dress pants which makes you moan softly.

His hand trails over your crotch and he starts rubbing over the tight fabric of your red dress.

“That okay?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Want more, Daddy.”

Oh shit. You don’t mean to say it like that! You know it is about ten levels of fucked up to call Joel that, but how is it your fault that in every fantasy that’s how you think of him? You figure you’re probably past the point of weird and every other standard of decency, but you’re still afraid.

“Sorry…” you mumble. “I–”

“No, no, baby,” Joel says quickly. “It’s alright, you can call me whatever you want. I don’t mind, sweetheart.”

“You think it’s weird,” you mumble again, further stupid tears forming in your eyes.

He snickers.

“Baby, I think we’re beyond weird at this point. Let me show you how turned on it makes me.”

Joel takes your hand and places it on his crotch. He takes your left hand, the one with the scar and you cringe a little, but he is rock-hard.

That’s good because you’re positively drenched.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Daddy likes that more than you know, alright?”

You take your hand back, smiling, but you cover your scarred finger, shocked he will allow this fantasy for you.

“Whatcha hidin’ from me, baby?” he asks, noticing the positioning of your hands.

“I hate that scar on my finger. ‘S so ugly,” you admit.

Joel looks flabbergasted.

“That’s the last damn thing I think of when I look at you. Ugly? Who in the fuck told you that?”

“How it got there is ugly. It’s marred skin, looks gross,” you mumble.

Joel moves to take out his cock, and when you nod he unzips and unbuttons his dress pants, pulling out his length. You have fantasized about his cock for god knows how long so you are more than excited to see it. He reaches to place your left hand with the scarred fingers around the length of his dick, which is thick, but longer than you expected. The leaking head is almost purple and your mouth begins to water as you stroke him gently.

“It’s part of you,” Joel tells you, his eyes connecting with yours. “I love it. It shows you survived. Gonna jerk off to it, Daddy loves it so much. And when I’m done you’re gonna love it too. Swear I’ve got so many over the years I can barely even count ‘em. Even got a few on my middle finger. Maybe even one from a certain guitar pick you made me. Nothing like that could ever make me stop wanting you, ya know that, right?”

You smile and take your time stroking him, wanting to show him how much you love and care for him, scars and all.

He grunts softly, closing his eyes, but then shoos your hand away with a feverish kind of want.

“Yeah, touch yourself now, baby. Daddy wants to see how wet you are for him. With that scarred finger. C’mon, now. ‘S gonna make you feel so good.”

You do as you’re told and reach down underneath your dress and begin to touch yourself, especially with your middle finger. You stroke your clit and then your dripping wet slit. You moan softly as Joel’s eyes rake over you, taking in every sigh and groan you emit. The butterflies are forming something big inside you, which presses against the inside of your tummy and ribcage.

“Daddy,” you whine.

“Enough, little one,” Joel whispers.

He takes out your hand and begins to suck the slick off of each of your fingers, groaning deeply, making intense eye contact the whole time.

“Fuck, angel,” he moans, having a tough time keeping himself together, you can tell. “Taste and smell better than like how I pictured. Like you were fuckin’ made for me, I swear.”

He reaches a hand of his own down to stroke himself and his moans become more desperate. Finally, he sucks on your middle finger covered in your slick and groans so deeply you feel like you might cum untouched. He stares into your eyes.

“ Mine, ” he growls possessively. “Oh, shit! Gonna–”

Then he takes your left hand and leads it to meet his throbbing cock. You stroke him, harder this time, fisting his thick length, moaning softly and that does it for him.

Joel cums all over your hand, oozing white globs of cum over your fingers, once, twice, three times.

“Fuuuuuck, babygirl,” he groans. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry! Couldn’t help it. Yeah, suck it off, baby. That’s it,” he commands, and you do, licking up all of his cum, even the part that got on your middle finger.

When Joel comes down he still looks half-crazed with desire.

“Sorry about the, uh, early release. It’s been a while since anyone touched me,” he babbles in embarrassment, his cheeks flushed pink. “But I don’t wanna hear shit about your gorgeous hands ever again, you hear me, babygirl?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nod, snickering.

He looks like that one word has set his entire universe back in order again. You honestly don’t care at how fast Joel came. You love how much it shows he wants you. And his heady taste is making you weak. You could taste him for days and days and never get tired, you’re sure.

“Can still get you off though, don’t worry. Shoulda let you cum first, but I couldn’t help it with the things you do to me. Goddamn. Can Daddy eat your pussy, baby?”

You grin, but then your face falls.

“Didn’t shave,” you admit, feeling dirty.

Max hates your hair down there.

Joel looks at you in confusion.

He laughs, his face scrunching up.

“Oh, sweetheart. You think I care about that? Only little boys give a shit about things like that. Not men.”

You shiver.

“Really?”

“Of course I don’t care. Didn’t ya hear what I just said? C’mon now. You can lie down on the couch.”

You follow instructions, pulling your dress over your head to reveal white lace panties and no bra.

You move to take the panties off, but Joel stops you, staring at the lines and curves of your body.

“Jesus, fuck,” he growls, taking you in.

You think you see his cock twitch ever so slightly. He palms his softening length instinctively.

“Beautiful,” he snarls, pushing you back on the sofa.

You happily fall backward.

He lies on top of you, his white button-down shirt pressing against your naked body tantalizingly.

He bites your lips roughly and you groan against him.

“Daddy’s mouth,” he commands against you.

“Yeah, duh, Daddy,” you snicker.

As if he even needs to say it!

He kisses down your neck expertly and you begin to shiver and whine, your pussy aching with need and neglect.

He stops at your breasts, sucking and biting each one.

“Daddy’s tits,” he declares, snaking a finger over the lace panties that protect your clit. “Of course,” you respond, moaning softly, grinding needily against him.

He continues lower, licking down your breasts and over your tummy which he plants with kisses that tickle and then one hard bite on your hip that leaves behind teeth marks.

“Daddy’s body,” he impresses upon you.

“Yes, Daddy. Only yours.”

“No more of that little shithead, Max,” he snarls, an inch above your clit.

“No more Max,” you repeat as he presses kisses down your pussy, still covered by soaked white lace panties.

“Only Daddy.”

“Only you.”

“Good girl,” he growls.

He finally removes your panties and begins to eat and suck your clit and pussy so hard and enthusiastically, swirling his tongue around your bundles of nerves that you grow exponentially closer by the second.

“Joel,” you whine. “Oh my God.”

It doesn’t take long. The second his calloused hand is pressing a finger and then two inside of you it’s over. You were so needy for him that you could have even cum from just his mouth alone, but his hands are what send you over the edge. And something different happens as orgasm crashes down upon you. The butterflies all join together and transform into something bigger and softer, caressing your insides, cooing. It feels like a breathing white dove is spreading its wings inside you, the tips of its feathers brushing against your rib cage. And you cum harder than you ever have in your life.

Pleasure engulfs you in currents, facilitated by the gentle flapping from deep

inside your body.

“ Joel,” you moan. “Oh my God. Daddy, pleaseee–”

“Please what, baby? Make my princess cum again? I would eat that pretty little clit and

pussy every day for the rest of my life if I could, fuck. God, so perfect and you’re so fuckin’ tight. Look how fucking hard you make me, angel.”

He takes one of your hands and places it on his half-hardening cock. Not going to lie, you are partially shocked at his recovery, but another part of you seems to know that if there was anyone in the universe that could do that to him it had to be you.

“Never got hard again from anyone I’ve ever fucked before…” he trails off dreamily like he can read your thoughts. “You’re so gorgeous, babygirl.”

“Not so bad yourself, handsome,” you tell him lazily, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth as you pull him closer to you.

The heat from his body keeps you so warm and tender and for a moment you lie on the couch, Joel’s still-clothed body pressed to yours.

“Can you fuck me, Joel?” you ask, squirming against him needily.

“You can’t say that shit to me, baby,” Joel groans, his cock getting harder. “Not quite ready yet.”

“Lemme help you out,” you offer, pouting.

You reach down and stroke his half-hard length and then bend over and press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock.

Joel swears, staring down at you with so much adoration it pours off his face. No man has ever looked at you like that before. You’re certain. Perhaps no man ever will again? Not like that.

“Shit, baby,” Joel babbles stupidly, his eyes threatening to swallow you up in that beautiful shade of umber. “Never gonna forget this moment,” he grunts as you begin to suck his cock properly, feeling it slowly get hard enough to throb between your lips with each thrust of your head and gluck of your throat.

You stare up at him, your eyes wide and wanting and Joel lets out a soft, vulnerable moan as you begin to really suck him and take him down the walls of your throat.

“ Unh , babygirl, fuck,” he whines and you have never quite heard Joel so desperate before. “Gotta pull out or I’m gonna cum. Holy fuck.”

It sounds just like it did the night you accidentally spied on him jerking off.

“You’ve been thinking about me a lot, huh, Daddy?” you ask, releasing Joel from your mouth like he wanted, though his hips buck forward ever so slightly with desire, the tip of his cock just barely scraping against your mouth. He grunts.

“Maybe so,” he replies, looking a little guilty. “Don’t know how not to these days.”

“Heard you on the couch last night,” you whine yourself. “Had to touch myself ‘cuz of it, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Joel reaches out a hand to cup your crotch and rub against your slick pussy.

“That’s so fuckin’ naughty, baby,” he groans. “Look how wet that made you. All for me.”

You steal a glance at his cock and find that the tip is weeping too. And he is so fucking big compared to the size of your hand. Fuck!

“You were thinking about me, weren’t you?” you whisper.

“All about you, baby,” Joel nods in agreement, his hips twitching ever so slightly. “‘Bout touching you just like this.”

He slinks two big fingers inside you and you moan deliciously, the feathery wings of the newly-formed dove fluttering against your insides.

“Gotta stretch you a bit more,” he grunts into your throat, pushing in a third finger. “Daddy’s so big and you’re so tight, angel. Don’t wanna hurt ya. Not too bad at least. Not yet…That’s it, pretty girl, fuck,” he grins when you slide back on his thumb in pleasure which had traveled to the rim of your asshole “Good girl, so good for Daddy. So naughty too. Don’t think Daddy won’t punish you.”

“Want you to hurt me, Daddy,” you moan. “When you fuck me. Please fuck me hard. I want all of you – pain and pleasure. One hundred percent Joel. Joel, please, I need–”

And Joel does stop for a moment.

“Never hurt you in a way you didn’t beg for,” he tells you seriously. “You know that right, baby?”

You stop your rutting against him and look into his eyes.

“Are you kidding? You would protect me with your dying breath. I know that, Joel. Never been afraid of you since I’ve really known you. Not once. I mean: fuck; you gave up your whole life for me. To keep me safe, for fuckssake. In every word you say and don’t say to me I can feel how much you love me.”

“I do love you so much, babygirl,” he whispers, nuzzling your forehead. “If I had to, I’d do all of it all over again if it meant I’d get you. I’ve made mistakes, big ones, but protecting you, loving you was never one of them.”

Warm tears trail down your cheeks, but Joel licks and kisses them away.

“Wanna feel me inside you?” he asks. “Don’t wanna go too fast, but I need you, baby. Needed you for so long…Sweet little pussy’s just cryin’ for Daddy, huh? Gonna fit me just like a glove, I just know it — if you wanna…”

“Yes, please, fuck me, Daddy! Please, Joel Wanna feel you—ah!” you moan as Joel shoves his entire length into your pussy in one hard thrust eagerly. “Oh my God, please fuck me harder!” you moan, reeling from the deep blend of pain and pleasure of him sinking inside you, clenching down around the thickness of him. “Joel, please!”

He pauses, sweat glistening on his brow, sneering.

“You really want harder?”

You shiver. The way he says that makes your heart beat wildly in your ears.

“Because babygirl, I would treat you like porcelain if you want it so. I will never hurt you, my angel, my gift from god, my goddamn sweetest heart please know I will break my fucking hands before they would hurt you, before I would ever hurt you in a way that you didn’t want, no matter how much it hurt me. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, Joel. But you want it too,” you smirk. “You aren’t innocent in this, are you?”

“Fuck, of course i’m not innocent. I want you, babygirl. In every way there is to want another. Want every inch of you, inside and out. Wanna mark you up so the world knows you’re mine, honey. Want everyone to smell me on you and know I marked you, moved in you, darlin’, please, see, I’m no fucking Hemingway, I didn’t go to college, I’m not like you with words, but I need you to understand that I mean this with my whole chest and heart. Really, I’m not a big talker, never was, babygirl, but I need you to understand I—”

“I do, you dumbass fucking fool!” you shout, giggling at his desperation. “I’d understand you even if you were speaking another language. You’ve made your intentions loud and clear. I don’t want a Hemingway, I want Joel Miller!”

You pull him in for a kiss and he thrusts in you again a second time and you end up moaning clumsily in his mouth, but you can feel him smiling , smiling like some dumb idiot against you and maybe you called him the correct insult because he is a dumbass fucking fool for you. And it turns out you must be one as well because you are smiling like an idiot for him too.

“ Joel,” you moan as he begins to move inside you, hitting deep places that Max or any of your previous exes never went. Pleasure is tracing itself along the line of your stomach. “Oh my god, I love you so much,” you babble and you’ve never meant that more than you do now.

You can feel Joel coming apart above you, plowing into you, sighing deeply. His grunts and moans and thrusts spur on the intense pleasure.

“More!” you moan. “Oh my god. Harder, please, I need–”

Joel plants rough bites on your neck and kisses too like he’s trying to consume every inch of you.

He places a large hand around your throat questioningly and you nod.

“Beg for it,” he commands in his deep, sexy voice — the voice that’s been in every wet dream you’ve ever had. You think you might just pass out from the sound alone.

“Choke me, Daddy,” you whine as pathetically as you possibly can, batting your eyes. “Oh, please, I could cum from just this, but I want more. More of you. All of you.”

“As you fuckin’ wish, baby,” he snickers in amusement. “Bet no little boy ever fucked you like this, huh?” he growls, continuing his rough pace, slamming against your walls, his eyes growing wild.

“They don’t compare to you, Joel. It’s always been you. In every orgasm. Fuck, never felt like this! Shit! Shit!”

Joel reaches out his large scarred hand and applies gentle delicious pressure to your throat. You know even something like this can be dangerous, but you crave that feral look of violence in his eyes and the power that comes with it. You want him to own you completely – every inch of you. You want him to mark you just like he said he wanted to because he is yours and you are his and has it ever really been any other way? You can’t remember properly from the pleasure rushing through you, the white dove inside you spreading and fluttering its wings, cooing softly. You think it’s only ever been what you feel now.

“Joel, Joel, fuck!” you scream, orgasm building in you.

“I know, babygirl. I know,” he coos himself into your mouth.

He pulls you closer, presses his nose to yours, his lips to yours, biting and kissing like a starving man possessed. He looks into your eyes and it’s there! That look of pure predator closing in on its prey, that look of ownership but also the most intense love you think you’ve ever witnessed. You would recognize that look anywhere. Your starved brain cries out for oxygen beneath his iron grip.

“Gonna cum again, angel,” Joel growls. “Gonna make you cum so hard you’re never gonna forget who you belong to. Whose pretty pussy this is.”

He is pounding so hard against your cervix and his dick is so big inside you and the pressure of his hand squeezing around you is so overwhelming and the scent of him could make you faint straight then and there, but you let go and feel yourself cumming in enormous waves as you squeeze down around Joel’s prick, the pleasure more intense than any single bodily experience you’ve had.

“ Daddy ,” you whine breathlessly, tears trickling out of your eyes. “Oh my god!”

“You’re mine, babygirl, always have been–FUCK!” he shouts into your throat, collapsing on top of you.

And then you feel him starting to empty himself inside you, painting your sensitive insides with trustful after trustful of hot cum. You’ve never felt so helplessly full and sticky in your life, the brilliant pleasure billowing through every inch of you. You want to feel like this every day, stuffed full of Joel’s cock, so close to him you can feel his heartbeat against yours, the one true place you belong.

“So beautiful, babygirl,” he whispers in an exhausted type of awe.

When your words come back you reply,

“Shut up, you’re the hot one,” through a snicker.

You look down at your body, covered in purple bite marks and bruises forming like galaxies across your body.

Joel snorts. Then he sits up on the couch and you lean your cheek against him. You lean up to kiss his cheek and he blushes ever so slightly.

“I said a lot of stuff, Y/N, but I want you to know that I meant all of it,”

“Yeah, you probably said more in the last hour than you’ve ever uttered in your entire life,” you tease, sitting up.

“I’m serious,” he snickers.

“I am and was too,” you nod. “I’m so glad that you’re here with me — that we did this. I know that our…origin story is weird and unconventional and some might argue straight up wrong, but I need you, Joel. I don’t care about that or think I could go back to pretending to be what we were.”

“You think I’d want you to act like that?” he asks incredulously. “You think I want this to just be a one-time thing?”

“Of course not,” you smirk. “But as close as we are I can’t actually read your mind. I mean…how are we going to be together realistically?”

“I’m not sure,” Joel admits, frowning a little. “For now it has to be a secret unless you want your mother or brother in jail for murdering me this time around. But someday, I dunno. It’s dumb…”

“What?”

“I just have these thoughts sometimes about you ‘n me. I…” Joel’s cheeks turn a bit pink. “Had a lot of time to think in prison, you know? And I’d Imagine us living on a ranch somewhere quiet out in the country with a flock of sheep. I could work at the tractor and auto-body repair shop that’d be out there, you know, in this dream of mine, and you could be a counselor at a local school if that’s what ya wanted. I don’t know, l know it sounds silly, but nobody would know or bother us there. But I want you to finish school and have the best life possible, babygirl. I’d wait a thousand years for you, but if you didn’t want me anymore the way we are now, I’d respect that. And if you’d allow it, I’d still be there for you just in a platonic sense — or just there for you however you want because I can’t imagine my life with you in it. I’d do whatever it takes, brokenhearted or not. I just can’t be separated from you like that again. A day longer in prison and I could’ve keeled over and died. And it’s crazy how much I mean that.”

“I don’t ever want to be separated from you again, Joel,” you agree. “I know the original plan was for you to find work and get an apartment of your own and I would love for that to still happen, but with you being intimate with me in every way – even if it has to be a secret. I don’t pretend to know what the future holds, but I need you in mine. I’ve never needed something more than I need that. Understand?”

Joel pulls you into a hug and leans his chin on the top of your head. He kisses it then your forehead. You lean up and plant a kiss on his throat and then his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t mean to get too ahead of ourselves now. We can take things a day at a time,” he mumbles into your skin.

You yawn contentedly, the tiredness clawing at your eyes, so unbelievably spent.

“I like hearing about your dreams and I’d go anywhere with you, Joel. But I am kinda dead from how good you just fucked me. Take me to bed?” You ask exhaustedly into his chest.

“Of course, babygirl,” he smirks down at you.

***

You don’t let go of Joel all night long, burrowed up against his chest, his heartbeat against your ear. And he doesn’t let go of you either. After the most intimate night of cuddles and snuggling you’ve ever experienced as well as the deepest and most restful sleep you’ve had in ages, you wake up to Joel gone from the bed. You frown, having wanted more than anything to wake up in his strong arms. Fear grips your insides as you wonder if he finally realized last night was a mistake and that you were never meant to be together in the first place (what you fear more than anything). A stupid vulnerable tear comes to your eye, but then you cock your head and hear music playing. Guitar music.

You think of your apartment as shitty, but truthfully you care deeply about your little private space and one of the things you do actually love the most about it is the tiny balcony that overlooks a measly courtyard and part of the city. That’s where you find Joel in the deck chair holding his guitar, strumming it lazily.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he says, fingerpicking a melody that scratches at the back of your mind with familiarity.

“Morning, handsome,” you tell him softly, plopping your smaller hand down on his shoulder.

The city hasn’t woken up yet, the soft glow of morning shining beams of light onto you and Joel, filling you with warmth. You sit down in the deck chair next to him, bathing in the sunlight.

“Whatcha playing?” you ask curiously, crouching to sit up on your knees.

“You know the song ‘Hallelujah’ by Leonard Cohen?” Joel asks in that beautifully deep voice of his.

He isn’t even singing yet but you could listen to him forever.

“‘Course,” you nod. “It’s a classic. You used to play it for me once in a blue moon.”

“Know what the word ‘Hallelujah’ actually means?” he asks.

You think about it for a second.

“It’s about praising god and all that, right? Why d’you ask?”

He pauses, both his words and fingerpicking.

“Babygirl,” he begins and you can tell he’s about to say something serious. “You know I’m not too good with words, but I need you to know this: I’ve never had much to thank god for in my life, except for Sarah, you know? But then He took her away…”

You place your hand on Joel’s and he looks at you sadly, but appreciatively. He flips it over and holds it in his giant paw of his own marked-up hand.

“And I was so fucking angry. Nothing left in me. The only good part of me gone. I was a broken man. And I hated Him. But then He, despite the shit I’ve done…He gave me you . And I know our road hasn’t been easy or fair, and the pain you’ve felt and I have felt but…I guess what I’m trying to say is you are the reason I believe that any type of…goodness— of holiness— can exist in this universe. And I’m not a religious man, I don’t believe in most of that dogmatic type of shit, and I don’t think you do either, but I do think someone or something is up there and I wanna thank them for you. Does that make sense? Do you wanna hear what I mean? I just feel so damn grateful.”

A tear you hadn’t noticed was there rolls down your cheek.

“Of course it does and of course I do,” you tell him.

You think perhaps this is the closest thing he can do to bearing his soul to you.

And then he leans over and kisses the tear away and begins to fingerpick the familiar melody.

♪ “I heard there was a secret chord…”♫

You listen to his deep weathered voice as the sun grows higher in the morning sky, casting both light and shadow over Joel’s wrinkled, handsome face. The light trails over you too. You feel the dove inside you cooing contentedly, dusting its wings gently against the edges of your insides.

♪There's a blaze of light in every word / It doesn't matter which you heard / The holy or the broken Hallelujah…”♫

When he finishes he places his large, scarred, calloused hand in yours and you hold it between your own scarred fingers.

“Thank you, Joel,” you tell him, meaning every word. “I think there’s hope for us, you know? I don’t believe in hippie-dippie type stuff, but something in this universe did bring us together. And I’ll be forever grateful for that too, ya know?”

Joel squeezes your smaller hand, his big fingers engulfing yours as the dove coos louder inside you.

“Babygirl, you know that I ain’t a good man, or a rich and educated one like maybe you thought you’d end up with, but I am less of a broken one because of you and I’m never letting you go. If we’re together, I think we have a chance.”

A/n:PLEASE COMMENT LIKE REBLOG IM BEGGING IM PLEADING IM CRYING DID THE SMUT LIVE UP TO YOUR DREAMS????

PART 1

PART 3 (coming soon)

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

Tags:

@toxicanonymity @motelprincess444 @epicrainbowsheep @anama-cara @sheepdogchick3

@denileisariver @lochnymph @mewantpeepaw. @fandomdaydreamer @r3dheadedwitch

@paanchusblog @prettystrangething @untamedheart81 @kotourasan123 @valkyreally

@lunpycatavenue

232 notes · View notes

nayatarot777 · 2 months ago

Text

Unpopular opinion:

Pride and ego is NOT a bad thing when you correct it and when you build it healthily. There’s a reason why so many women are willing to act like someone they’re not, let a man tell them who they can and can’t be, etc. Who in tf are you in this world? YOU control the answer to that question. And the longer you don’t know who you are, the longer you’ll be manipulated, moulded, and played into being someone else for someone who doesn’t even love you for you. Your ego is your protector. Hence why it’s a natural part of childhood development, around the ages when you get more social interaction with the outside world. So if you’re walking around without much of an ego, you’re walking around with little to no protection. That’s the equivalent to living in a house without locks. Or leaving your car unlocked at all times. Does that sound smart to you? And could you be surprised when you’re an easy victim for others to invade your space and take from you? No. You couldn’t. So for those of you who lack ego and pride and are always taken advantage of: what tf are you surprised or shocked about? You’re literally allowing yourself to step out into the world unprotected. Despite knowing how dangerous the world can be. You’re not a perpetual victim to life. Life/God doesn’t hate you. You’re just a vulnerable person who has, for some reason, kept yourself vulnerable in a place full of danger. Can you be surprised when people view you as someone who’s easy to take advantage of and use? No. And don’t mistake this for being blamed for other peoples actions. That’s on them. But you definitely can be blamed yourself for your actions (or lack thereof), such as: NOT putting in boundaries, NOT protecting yourself, CHOOSING to keep yourself vulnerable.

With that being said, how can someone “love you, for you” when there is no core “you” to show them? And that’s exactly what your ego is. Who you are as a human being that you show to the world. It’s your strengths that you put on the forefront when you’re manoeuvring through life. It’s also a fraction your authentic self as a human being - hence why people who are not authentic have such fragile egos. They’re easily hurt, right? Easily put down and diminished without much confidence left afterwards. The people who either don’t fight back against injustice towards them, or they do, but they don’t know how to fight back effectively. It’s quite illogical to expect for people to love you for you when you wouldn’t even be able to tell/show someone who you truly are - simply because you don’t even know who you are. Or because you don’t think that who you are is good enough so you’re willing to pretend to be someone that you’re not.

Please understand, ladies, this world will chew you up and spit you out if you ALLOW it to. Define who you are and stick to that, and don’t ever change unless the change is what YOU want. More men do exactly the opposite, and that’s why you can’t tell men shit about themselves. For better or for worse. They know who they are a lot more than we do and they stick to it. The ones who don’t are the ones who are taken advantage of by others - just like many of us.

I could never understand how so many girls and women around me were so willing to ALLOW a man to tell them how they should/shouldn’t dress. Who they can and can’t be friends with. Where they can and can’t go. How they can and can’t act - especially in relationships. It confused me and, I’m not gonna lie, I thought that it was just stupidity on women’s part that played a part in that. But I had to check myself and identify the difference between women that I knew who were like that and women who weren’t - instead of just boiling it down to mass idiocy through my own ignorance. I was raised around a lot of brothers, and a Jamaican family in general. Jamaicans are known for being quite prideful (ngl, in more toxic ways), but my brothers would also never allow me to let other people tell me who I should and shouldn’t be. Thats when I came to the conclusion that the major difference is pride and ego (which is heavily linked to self respect and self esteem). Thats when I realised that it wasn’t stupidity - it was brainwashing and conditioning. And I believe that for centuries, men broke down the egos of women because they know the truth about being egotistical. They know that when you’re egotistical, you’re not going to allow someone else to impose on who you think that you are, for the sake of pleasing them. You’re going to be confident in yourself and not put yourself as a lesser being to someone else, which only leads to you becoming a complete people pleaser or a doormat. Basically the perfect victim for those who want to control and manipulate.

There’s a reason why so many women who have acted like doormats feel so much shame after all is said and done. Thats your ego and pride telling you that you deserved better and you knew it deep down the whole time. That you haven’t acted in a way that you can even be proud of yourself (because of your lack of pride). And that you put up with bs that you should’ve cut off time ago. Think about it.

#pick a card #psychic readings #pac #tarot reading #pick a photo #pac reading #pick a picture #tarot #divination #spirituality

96 notes · View notes

wangxianficfinder · 4 months ago

Text

Fic Finder

Aug 16th

~*~

1. i hope it's okay to resend an ask from 3 years ago? 😅

(it's #2 on the first 'fics still missing'. there's a rec however i think that fic/the relevant scene was posted AFTER i sent the ask on may 2021 so it's probably not it, and i do not think it's 300k 😲 long!)

the only thing i still remember is that wen qing does a surgery to bring back wei wuxian's core, and the new core is from a wen prisoner who is set to be executed. the prisoner turns out to be wen yuan's bio dad, and he's willing.

i think there's another core surgery but as punishment? i may be mixing up fics since it's been a long time.

many thanks!!! @danmeireader

FOUND? Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, war changes people, resulting to OOC, no pinning, Established Relationship, Mpreg, Good Uncle LQR, a little grey LWJ, a bit of JC bashing from LWJ, BAMF JYL, 16 years of yearning, mainly CQL verse but has scenes from the novel as well, LSZ is WangXian’s Child, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Canon Rewrite, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts) except that in that, Yuan is WWX and LWJ bio son but there is another child whose father gives WWX his core. Might be worth checking it out as even if it's not the right one it's a good story

~*~

2. Hello! I am searching for one fic i read it was WIP i guess, in one particular scene there was sparing practice in cloud recesses school days, where someone tries to stab WWX but Jin Zixuan takes the blow near heart.. when Wen Qing with other healers arrive they find WWX's blood is compatible with Jin Zixuan that's how they become sworn brother with Nei Huisang too. idk but there was some other invention to secure swon brotherhood shared with JZX in front of JGS

FOUND? sounds exactly like a scene from 🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 64k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang Sect Friendly, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not YZY Friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Protection Squad)

~*~

3. Hello!

I'm looking for a fic where wwx became jyl's personal healer and where he meets lwj at her wedding with lan xichen, when lwj accidently gets an approdisiac meant for the groom (to cause an incident???), so wwx has to help him out in his professional role and of course to save his shijie's wedding.

Thsnk you in advance! @janiquebeingcreative

FOUND! trust your fingertips by plonk (Not Rated, 15k, WangXian, Aphrodisiacs, Medical Kink, Canon Era, Different First Meeting)

~*~

4. hi! i hope you're doing well. im trying to find an ongoing fic where wwx leaves lotus pier way before the wen decides to act up. he lives with the wen sibs far away from the cultivation world but comes back eventually to help the sects to defeat the wen. the last time I saw it it had been months from the last update.

FOUND! the sea meets the moon-blanched land by rkivees (G, 44k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Childhood Trauma, Sect Leader WWX, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WQ, Good Parent LQR, First Love, Love Confessions, minor jiang sibs appearance, Mentioned LXC, Past Child Abuse, Drunken Shenanigans, Past Violence, No Golden Core Transfer, Non-Linear Narrative) I think 4 on the fic finder post is the sea meets the moon-blanched land by rkivees but not sure since it was updated recently.

~*~

5. I am looking for a fic it is wangxian a

Arranged marriage this what a remember for the plot that wei Ying is Outcasted by the lan elders because madam yu did give the gift tha the send a copy of the rules and the jaed token @androgynousbelievergarden

FOUND! Finding a Home by Duochanfan (T, 8k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Light Angst)

NOT FOUND! Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

6. Hello! For fic finder, please! I am looking for a fic where instead of giving JC his own core, WWX knocks out a random Wen soldier and they use that guy’s core for the transfer. I think that the core was weak and throughout the remainder of the story JC was angry that his new core from “Baoshan Sanren�� was so weak and puny. Does this sound familiar? Thank you!

FOUND? Never Again by Hauntcats (T, 67k, WWX & WN & WQ, JC & WWX, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, Canon Divergence, Angst, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Dark, BAMF WWX, mentions of abuse, Not Everyone Dies au, XY doesn’t have a happy ending) It has them taking Wen Chao's core over a random soldier's but the rest fits

~*~

7. Hi, thank you so much for all your hard work!!

I'm looking for two fics:

A) I think this one might have appeared in your blog and that's how I learned about it the first time. Modern AU Wangxian where they're retired/considering retiring figure skaters, and the fic is a series of them trying to have sex but something going wrong. At the end LWJ breaks/hurts his ankle really badly on the way to a cabin to have sex in Olympics gear, and then they get married.

B) WWX comes back in a random cultivator's body while LWJ is recovering from the discipline whip, and he sneaks into the Cloud Recesses to learn about A-Yuan. I think the cultivator gave his body up to WWX to punish him, and the curse mark on his arm becomes activated when he's happy, and it activates so badly it nearly cuts his arm off.

Thank you!

~*~

8. Hello! For the next Fic Finder, I'm looking for a modern AU, rated either Mature or Explicit, where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan end up stranded in a ski resort. It's just them, no one else. They end up getting together by the end of the story. I cannot recall if one person was injured, I think the answer is no but I could be wrong! Thank you!

FOUND! Certain Obscure Things by hkafterdark (E, 32k, wangxian, Snowed In, Modern AU, First Time, and there was only one bed, Cabin Fic, Drinking, canon typical kink)

~*~

9. hii please could anyone help me find this fic where wwx and lwj are both genderbent and theyre both authors at a writers conference thats kinda all i remember

FOUND? Happy for Now by ScarlettStorm (E, 80k, WangXian, Modern, Rule 63, Cisswap, wlw wangxian, There Was Only One Bed, but that's not actually where the tension lies, romance author au, Adhd WWX, service top LWJ, two gay disasters, Pining, Smut, Comedy, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, whoops your hotel booking was a scam?, That's A Shame, guess we better share, there are no other options, horny yearning, furtive masturbation, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Sex Toys, Chekhov's sex bag, everybody's parents live, except for QHJ but we don't care about him, mama lan had cancer but she's okay now)

~*~

10. Fic finder, could you help me find the delightfully sexy A/B/O roleplay fic? Our guys are in the irl present day, and LZ finds out WY has been reading A/B/O stuff, and they roleplay it. In the finale, they have drunk sex, and WY cums so hard he passes out, and LZ is a weepy mess about it.

FOUND? eating sugar out of your hand by azuresummer (E, 20k, wangxian, Modern, ABO roleplay, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Dom/sub, Dominant LWJ, Submissive WWX, Established Relationship, Roleplay, Consensual Non-Consent, Under-negotiated Kink, degradation kink, Praise Kink, Light Bondage, Size Kink, Size Difference, Spit Kink, Hair-pulling, Daddy Kink, Slight Crossdressing, Lingerie, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Feminizing Language, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Prostate Milking, slight breathplay, Facials, Snowballing, Finger Sucking, Panty Kink, Spanking, Crying, Mentions of Face-Slapping, Drunk Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, LWJ & WWX Have a Breeding Kink, PWP, roleplay as a love language)

~*~

11. Heyyyy do you guys remember that one fic where jc kept wy in a basement kinda situation? Uk he held him captive while the world thought wwx is dead and I'm pretty very sure there was a forced crossdressing situation with abuse too? This fic has been mentioned many times in itmf posts or fic finders too.. I don't remember it's name, does my description ring a bell? @constellationdks

FOUND! on restitution by glitteringmoonlight (M, 98k, LSZ & WWX, WWX & JL, wangxian, dark JC, not JC friendly, captivity, non-graphic torture, angst w/ happy ending)

~*~

12. Hello,

I'm looking for a fic that I read ages ago, but don't remember what website it was on. It had both wangxian and xicheng in it. So Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen reached immortality and now they are living in present time where everyone has reincarnated. Lan Wangji has custody of Lan Sizhui and I think Lan Jingyi as well but not sure about the latter part. Both of them attend high school where Wei Wuxian is a teacher (I think he just transferred to the school but am not sure). Jin Ling also attends school with them. Jiang Cheng takes care of him and he is a policeman. He does not talk to Wei Wuxian as he blames him for their sister death/bad medical state. I don't remember exactly which one it was. I also remember that Nie Mingjue is Jiang Cheng boss, Nie Huisang and Jing Guangyao are in the actor/entertainment business and Wen Ruohan is a villain in there @kyjrd

FOUND? monotone by seredemia which the author put on drive instead of ao3

~*~

13. Hello! I'm looking for match-making fic where Jin Zixuan (tired of wwx constantly interrupting family time with his wife and newly born son) decides the best way to get him out of the way is to matchmake him with someone. I think he tries Nie Mingjue mainly, because they have similar interests, etc.

Jiang Cheng also gets roped in, but he thinks Jin Zixuan is nuts the whole time. NMJ thinks Wei wuxian is definitely flirting with him at some point because his muscles get complimented? Lan Xichen has to reassure him that "no, he is just like that".

It's a comedy of errors mainly, because LWJ and WWX definitely have something going on between them, and it ends with them running off with horses to elope into the sunset or smth. Jiang Yanli doesn't know her husband's matchmaking scheme, but she does know about wwx and lwj and helps them elope at the end.

Pretty sure it was a short fic, ignores canon and occurs in a what-if scenario where the whole burial mounds situation didn't happen.

I'd be very grateful of you could help me find this! Thank you 😊 @indelibleme

FOUND! Marital Prospects by Vamillepudding (G, 18k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Romantic Comedy, Misunderstandings, LWJ Needs a Hug)

~*~

14. I was reading a fic but I lost it. It was where wwx was frozen for I don't know how many years and they think. I think it was the lans? I think lwj was a doctor or archaeologist? A-yuan was his son there they were. There was a scene from wwx taking apart a mechanical pencil/pen and putting it back together and lwj is surprised by it. Lqr? He thinks wwx is not human lwj thinks otherwise and they locked him in a room @quwieiidkd

FOUND? 🧡 The Shade of Old Trees by Kryal (T, 363k, WangXian, Ridiculously Long Notes, History, Canon Divergence, Modern AU, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Slow Life, Action/Adventure, Magic Returns, BAMF WWX)

~*~

15. I'm looking for a fic that canon era WWX had ended up accidentally raising up a bunch of dinosaurs. The main thing I remember is that JC was talking with him about it and they were considering them different kinds of mythical creatures(I remember qilin and Fenghuang especially.) Though anything dinosaur and untamed is awesome. @bcaugust

FOUND? Fenghuan and Qilin by Ibijau (T, 544, JC & WWX, Dinosaurs, Demonic cultivation, undead dinosaurs, mdzs with dinosaurs)

~*~

16. Hiya, I'm wracking my brains trying tonfind a fic. The only part I really remember is that to rebuild their library's collection, Gusu Lan reached out to other sects, asking for texts to copy. I think the Jiang weren't originally for it (whether it was Jiang Cheng or Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian vetoing it I can't remember), but Wei Wuxian tried to help. I think maybe Lan Wangji paid a visit to Lotus Pier, but again, I'm not sure.

~*~

17. Hello! I am looking for a specific fic that I have lost. It was a canon-divergent fic. In it Wei Wuxian ties decorative knots as something to keep his hands occupied while his mind runs. I think it was set primarily during the Yiling settlement days, because I remember he had a room/small house/workspace which had knots hung all over the walls. Although, my brain is also saying that this could have been a “WWX grows up on Baoshan Sanren’s mountain” au and his room could have been there. The knots are the unique detail I remember. Any clue? Thank you!

FOUND? inevitable everything by isabilightwood (E, 193k, WangXian, WQ/MM, JYL/JZX, BSSR/LY, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, but WWX is BSSR's disciple/adoptive grandson too, the cultivation sects think this is a, War Prize AU, it's actually self-arranged marriage, Arranged Marriage, yin iron shenanigans, LWJ Has Friends, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, LWJ Has a YLLZ Kink, Switch WangXian, BDSM, Submissive LWJ, Dominant WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, magical illness of a side character (who will get better), Rope Bondage, Impact Play, Rimming, Bottom LWJ, Temperature Play, Face-Fucking, Breathplay, (talisman-based breathplay to be specific), Cock Warming, Public Scene, no one gets naked in public this is the sense of WWX invents the, Remote Controlled Vibrator, Semi-Public Sex, Outdoor Sex, Blindfolds, one qingmian smut scene with oral and fingering, Minor Character Death, All Sex Scenes Are Skippable!) It is a Baoshan Sanren raises WWX and the knotwork is highlighted several times in the story, starting in chapter 2.

~*~

18. ff request! can't remember much, other than the fact that wwx creates a justice array, which they use to question lan elders, some jins, & other sect leaders to successfully reveal their crimes of colluding w the jins. wonder if this rings a bell? thanks! @potatokunst

FOUND! IF by Remma3760 (Not Rated, 94k, WangXian, QingJue, Aftermath of Violence, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Fix-It of Sorts, BAMF LWJ, Golden Core Reveal)

~*~

19. Good morning! I am looking for a fic where Wei Wuxian was captured by the Jin and given a false trial and he was punished by being hunted. He was set loose into the land surrounding Koi Tower and all the Jin disciples hunted him, but he managed to survive, decimate all the Jin disciples, and escape. I think it was a very short fic, but was possibly one piece in a longer series. Would love to read this again, thank you!

FOUND? the wild hunt series by antebunny (G, 18k, WangXian, JYL & JL, WWX & JL, WWX & JC, LXC & LWJ, Canon Divergence, Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, Canon-Typical Violence, JL and his many many uncles, JGY is morally ambiguous but okay, BAMF WWX, WWX is innocent of literally everything for plot purposes, JYL Lives, Not Everyone Dies, Hopeful Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, what is fanfiction but 10k of reunions, Found Family, Fluff, they're soft your honor, Domestic Fluff, Happy Ending)

FOUND? foliage by antebunny (G, 7k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, Canon-Typical Violence, JL and his many many uncles, jgy is morally ambiguous but okay, BAMF WWX, wwx is innocent of literally everything, for plot purposes, JYL Lives, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Hopeful Ending)

~*~

20. Hi! This is fic finder. I dont remember much. It set in sunshot campaign. When they want to storm Nightless city, Wen Ning volunter to open the underground passage. It need the wen blood. I think the door has a family tree on it? Thats all i can remember @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! ❤️ Gentians in bloom by teawater (M, 251k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, AU after cold spring, Political Marriage, Dysfunctional Family, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, LQR bashing (not really), POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Eventual Happy Ending, BAMF WWX, JC is actually a lot better than canon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, YZY bashing (again not completely))

~*~

21. Hey! I saw this prompt on AO3 searching for the ff. "Everyone is arriving to Gusu Lan to study and while they were introducing themselves and their clan. The Wen clan interrupt the Jiang clan (as usual) and Wei Ying spoke out and all of sudden bunnies were entering the class when Wei Ying said something all the bunnies transformed into human yelling, “yes, madam Lan”. Everyone is shock." @vbhardwaj-reads

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

109 notes · View notes

cellythefloshie · 2 months ago

Text

;; I Did Something Bad Dedicated to @hockeyboysimagines

Summary: After you send a sexy snap to the wrong Brady, you and your stepbrother cross a line that you had never considered crossing before. Kinks & Tropes: Age Gap (18 vs. 22). Stepcest. Phone Sex/Sexting. Praise. Mutual Masturbation. Protective Big Brother. Reader Nickname: "Sissy". PLEASE NOTE, this work of fiction depicts a budding sexual relationship between step-siblings who grew up together from ages 10 and 14 - step-siblings who always considered one another siblings. -- Set during Brady's time as a New York Ranger. Word Count: 4k+ A/N: Happy Birthday to the lovely @hockeyboysimagines ! You have been the best worst influence for me as a writer, always encouraging me to write what I want to write instead of what I should be working on. And you very well know October was meant to be spent with the filthiest of Brady Skjei content. This is very much the tip of the iceberg for Brady and his stepsister, and I couldn't be more thrilled to get the two of them going because of your birthday. This fic is in no way groundbreaking, but it's filthy and fun and maybe even a little toxic. But if I know someone who is going to appreciate it for their birthday, it's you! AND a quick little shout out to @hagelpoint-3821 who was around when my filthy mind birthed this idea probably 2 years ago now! It's finally happening!

“Do you always think of me when you touch yourself?”

Your blood ran cold. You recognized the voice in an instant, and it wasn't the one you expected to hear when you answered the phone. And it was nowhere near anything you thought would leave your stepbrother's mouth.

His words sent a rush of heat surging through you. It sent your skin red hot with embarrassment as you lay in bed, one hand still in your panties and the other holding the phone to your ear so tightly your hand ached. You wished the embarrassment could have been for him. That he had somehow dialed the wrong number. That he meant to dial whichever slut he had in whichever city he was in for the night. But that was just a dream of a possibility, because he knew exactly what he was doing when he phoned you.

Silently, you drew your phone back from your face, a quivering breath trembling through your body as you opened Snapchat on your phone and looked at your last sent messages. At the top of the list was Brady, the red and white arrow beside his name showing you the last message sent to him was minutes ago. And just below him, the intended recipient of your message, Braedy. He was an idiot you’d met in the back row of your first year psychology class. You’d exchanged numbers on the first day, which led to helping him with assignments while he helped you with orgasms. But while he was in his dorm room across campus, rock hard and waiting for your next risque picture, you lay still in bed with your stepbrother on the other end of the phone.

Swallowing hard, in an attempt to moisten your dry mouth, you accepted that the silence had been too long to pretend that you hadn’t accidentally sent him a picture of your hand in your panties.

“I-” you started, but you formed no words. Anything you could have thought to say became strangled in your throat. "Sissy, was that picture not meant for me?" Brady asked, saving you from the need to provide him with some sort of explanation, but it didn't make you feel any better. Your heart continued to pound against your chest as it flooded with panic and embarrassment.

“No, I, ah-” you breathed, your attempt at words more of a stutter than the beginnings of an explanation.

“And I thought you were being a good girl-” your core clenched “-focusing on your studies on campus. I don’t have to come down there and check in on you, do I?”

You shook your head slowly as if he could see it, your hair becoming a mess on your pillow. Your breathing was shallow and uneven, your body hot and sweaty even as you lay there in nothing but a cropped t-shirt and your panties. Panties that your hand had yet you leave and your crotch was still damp with arousal from the brief exchange of photos before Brady’s interruption. An interruption that should have dried you up like a desert. Yet, you were just as wet as when you answered the call, if not wetter.

“Are you still there, sissy?” It was only with his words that you realized he couldn’t see your response.

“No, I-” your throat caught your words as you fumbled with what exactly to say. Brady’s words were so calm, sounding cautious and thought out, while your mind was so frantic you couldn’t even think of the right words to say.

“I’m still here,” you confirmed with a breath, “and no, you don’t need to check on me.”

“I’ll be in the area next week,” he hummed slowly, and your eyes darted to the calendar that was on your bedside table. The Rangers would play in Minnesota soon, and while you were sure the team wouldn’t give him time to come visit you on campus, Brady never seemed to fail at scaring any prospecting partners away. It was the big-brother thing to do, or at least that’s always what you guys told yourselves. But as he spoke with his words so thought out as if he was trying to tiptoe through the situation with caution, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was and had always been a little more than that.

“No, no,” you protested, “I’ll be good.”

“Will you?” Brady challenged. “Be a good girl and block that boy for me.”

“Brady-”

“Do it and show me.” The firmness of his voice sent a wave of heat through you. There would be no fighting him on this, so you obliged.

Slowly, your hand left your panties, the elastic waistband snapping against your hip before you brought your now freed hand up to your phone. You cradled the phone in both hands as you turned on the screen recording and captured blocking your classmate, Braedy, on Snapchat and his phone number. Then you sent the video to your stepbrother, Brady.

“Good girl,” he praised you, “keep it that way, alright, Sissy. No distractions. Promise.”

“I promise,” you breathed out, though you were fully entertaining the idea of unblocking Braedy as soon as this awkward phone call was over. What Brady didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, or you.

“Good girl,” he said again, your body reacting the same to his soft praise, and it nearly left you reeling against your pillow. You shouldn’t be feeling that way, especially with Brady on the phone. Yet, you forced out a quivering breath and chalked it up to coincidence and the poor timing of his call. “Are you in bed?” he asked you slowly.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

“Wearing those pretty little panties?”

You lay there in the same silence that had consumed you when you had heard his voice when you had answered the call. Had you just heard him right, or was your mind playing tricks on you? Or maybe, just maybe, you had fallen asleep watching shitty pornography, and this was all just a dream.

You pinched yourself.

No, not a dream.

You had accidentally sent your stepbrother a suggestive photo, and now he was what, trying to have phone sex with you? It didn’t make sense, but did all at once.

The two of you had always been close, even if your parents hadn’t married until you were 10 and he was 14. He had snapped into your life so perfectly. Brady was the big brother you had always wanted. From helping you with your homework, to attending both his high school football games and his hockey games, too. The two of you did it all together. Even when he was off to college, you were there supporting him, counting down the days until you too would attend the same university in his footsteps. And then there were the jokes, made by your own parents, that if the two of you weren’t siblings, the two of you would get married. It was always a joke, one that both you and Brady had laughed at - but it was all coming to crest now. Had the joke always been funny because it was true?

The two of you just never admitted it - or fully entertained the idea - until you had forced it all by accident.

Biting down on your lip, you chewed it slowly as you took in a slow breath. You had a decision to make, and the weight of it rested heavily on your chest. You could answer him, paint a sexy little picture for him with your words, or you could hang up.

“Brady,” his name was weak on your lips, your tongue darting out to run over your lips slowly.

“Sorry,” he spoke quickly, “I can hang up. We can pretend this didn’t happen-”

“No, don’t,” you spoke out too quickly as you shot up in bed, “don’t hang up.”

He replied with nothing but a soft sigh, one that sounded like a smile and relief.

Slowly, you pressed up onto your knees, your thighs pressing firmly together to ease the tension that continued to build throughout your body. One hand left your phone and tucked your hair behind your ears and out of your face before falling to rest on the top of your thighs. “Where are you right now?”

“My hotel room in Detroit,” he answered slowly.

You swallowed hard. “Alone?”

Brady hummed his confirmation into the phone, sparking a sense of excitement into you. “Maybe,” your lips curled up into a soft smile as you spoke, “I could send you another picture. Would that be wrong?”

Yes. Yes, it would. But he didn’t stop you. Instead, Brady encouraged you. “Wrong? No. It’s just a picture, right?” You weren't sure if he was trying to convince you, or if he was trying to convince himself that what you were about to do was okay.

His words made you giddy when they should have. And with a stupid smile, your phone left your ear as you positioned yourself on the bed. You knelt there with your legs slightly spread so he could have a clear view of your panties. Snapping the picture, you wrinkled your nose at the outcome. You didn’t like it. You posed again after fixing your shirt just right to show off just the right amount of under-boob in the next picture. It was great, but there was one issue: you could see your face. Thumb hesitating over the send button, you contemplated about taking another, one where you couldn't see your face. A picture like the ones you had sent your classmate earlier. Yet, you hit send. Because this was Brady, and if he shared it with anyone else, he would get into as much trouble as you would.

“There, I sent it to you,” you told him as you brought the phone back up to your ear.

You could hear Brady's satisfied hum through the phone as you relaxed back on the bed. “You look so pretty on your knees,” he told you and you threw yourself back on the pillow with a too wide grin. “Such an amazing body you have, Sissy.”

Your cheeks flushed with color. This wasn’t the first time he’s seen so much of your skin. Your family had taken a vacation somewhere hot every year for as long as you could remember, but this was the first time Brady could really comment on it.

“Can I show you something?” Brady asked, and your heart quickened.

“Yes,” you nodded eagerly, and you waited patiently, your face half buried in your pillow as you waited for his picture to be sent.

Yet, when that red square popped up on your screen, you hesitated to open it. It was one thing to send a picture, but to receive one. Opening it would mean you both crossed a line and there would be no coming back from it. Then, as you did most decisions, you took the risky option with no consideration for the repercussions you would face in the future. You held your thumb down on the screen, the sight it unlocked leaving your breath to hitch in the back of your throat.

Your eyes went to the shadow of his abs first and traveled down the dark trail of hair on his stomach as it began just below his navel and disappeared behind the gray fabric of his sweatpants. Licking your lips, you indulge yourself in the sight of his cock tenting up against his sweatpants. You had no words, your mouth falling agape in a heavy exhale as you tried to keep your body calm. But it was too late. Your skin was hot with arousal and on the verge of sweating, and as you pressed your ass down into the mattress, you could feel just how slick you were between your thighs.

Raising your phone back up to your ear, you greeted Brady with a quivering breath and he spoke with confidence into your ear. There was no need to tiptoe around things now. “You see what your little accident did to me?”

“Oh? Did I do that?” you answered his question with a question, your words knowing and sickeningly sweet as you let your hand run down your own stomach and stopped at the waistband of your panties. Your fingers traced over its edge slowly, craving to dip deeper, but you would wait.

“Do you think you can help me take care of it?” Brady asked, and you could hear the smile in his voice. You bit your lip, hiding your own smile from yourself, and he must have taken it as a moment of hesitation because Brady’s words found your ear again. “You have such a great body, Sissy. It’s so hard to ignore, and that picture,” he let out a long exasperated breath, “send me another one?”

“What do you want to see?” You asked him. Your words were a breath that you thought he might not even have heard.

“Whatever you’re comfortable showing me,” Brady answered.

His words had been soft, melting you further and further into the mess of a puddle that you were. “Let me just,” you hummed out, “give me one second.”

Peeling the phone away from your ear, you opened Snapchat again. You tried to take a picture laying down, but each one left you feeling undesirable. Then you rolled over onto your side where you knew your cleavage would be the star of the show if you had been wearing anything else, but the high neckline of your cropped sleep shirt kept your breasts at bay. You let out a frustrated huff as you moved to the edge of the bed and spread your legs. At this angle, he could see just how wet the crotch of your panties was.

With your phone in one hand, you posed with the other. You placed it on your inner thigh first, but you didn’t like that. Then, you rested it over your panties but decided it was too close to the first image he had received. You almost gave up, but then, with the quick swipe of your thumb over the screen, you were recording yourself as your fingers dipped inside the fabric of your panties and found your clit. You pressed into it with the pads of your fingers and stroked it in two slow, agonizing circles before you sent it, without reviewing it, to Brady.

Your hand didn’t leave your panties as you sprawled out lazily over the bed. Stroking yourself slowly, you listened to Brady breathe into the phone, undoubtedly watching the clip you had just sent to him.

“Fuck,” he cursed, and you pressed into your clit harder, “so beautiful, sissy. You’re so wet,” Brady let out a low groan, “you make my cock so hard.”

“Are you touching yourself, Brady?” You asked him, your words breathy, “Touching yourself, because of me?”

“I am,” he confirmed with a heavy breath into the phone, “you want to see it, Sissy?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, your feet leaving the floor to dig into the mattress. You dipped your fingers down lower, parting your wet lips and teasing the entrance of your core as you waited for the notification to buzz against your ear. It almost startled you when it did, even if you were expecting it.

Lulling your head to the side, you let the clip play. Brady was laying in the hotel bed now, his sweatpants pulled down just below his balls. His hockey hardened hand wrapped around his thick cock as she stroked it slowly. Up and down, then up again, making sure you could see the very length of him.

Your eyes shut as the clip disappeared, trying to keep the sight of it in your mind as you plunged two fingers into your dripping core.

“Brady,” you gasped out, your phone laying back on the bed almost completely abandoned until you had reached out quickly to put the call on speaker. You couldn’t hold it any longer. You needed both hands now. With your two fingers in your cunt, your other hand dipped beneath the cotton and found your clit again, rubbing it in those same slow circles.

“You like that, Sissy?” Brady’s voice erupted from the phone beside you, and you were suddenly thankful that your roommate had been spending the night at her boyfriend’s place. No one would overhear him saying things stepbrother shouldn’t say, and no one would hear you moan.

“Mhm,” you hummed, and it sounded like a whine.

“What are you doing now?” Brady asked you slowly, his words quick as he breathed through the pleasure of his own hand. “Your hand still in your panties, Sissy?”

“Yes,” you gasped out, “they feel so good.”

“What feels good?” Brady asked you slowly, “tell me.”

“My fingers,” you squeezed your eyes tighter, fighting to speak your words when all you wanted to do was moan. “My fingers in my cunt.”

“That’s so sexy,” he told you and a wave of heat hit you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge that you already felt on the verge of falling over. “How many?”

“Two,” you panted out.

“Two? That’s not nearly enough.” A lump formed in the back of your throat as he spoke. “No, no, I think I’m at least three of your fingers.” Your walls clenched at the very idea of sliding a third finger into your core, and your hips wiggled, taking your own fingers until they were knuckle deep at the very prospect of pretending that you were being fucked by his thick cock. “Can you do that for me, Sissy? Put a third finger in for me?”

Withdrawing your fingers, you brought three fingers together and pressed the very tip of them to your entrance. You gasped at just how much more they would fill you. “Brady, that’s too much,” you gasped.

“Would I be too much for you, Sissy?” His question made you shiver. “Is my cock too big for that pretty little pussy of yours?”

“I-I,” you stammered, your heart racing deep in your chest as you hesitated to even try.

“Take a breath, get nice and relaxed for me,” his words were soft as he guided you, “circle your cunt with three fingers for me. What do you feel?”

“I’m dripping,” you told him with a quivering voice. “I can feel it all down the back of my hand.”

“Good girl,” he cooed, “so slick and horny for my cock. Slowly press just the tips of your fingers. Nice and slow.” His words were gentle and encouraging as you followed his guidance, your core feeling so tight around the tips of your fingers, but the longer you held them there, still inside your cunt, the better it felt.

“And when you’re ready, press in just a little bit more.” Delving your fingers in deeper, you let out an audible gasp, one that left Brady moaning on the other end of the phone.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you assured, your toes curling over the edge of your bed as you pumped your fingers in and out of your dripping core. “It feels so good, Brady.”

“I can hear how wet you are, Sissy,” Brady groaned. “You like this? You like thinking of me when you touch yourself. Talking to me when your fingers are buried in your cunt.”

“Yes,” you groaned through your grit teeth, “yes! I’m so close, Brady.”

“Don’t hold back. I want to hear you come. I want to hear what you sound like when you moan,” he encouraged you, and you could hear his hand pumping at his cock.

Your body reeled in your bed, your hips jutted into your own hand as you gasped and moaned out. Core clenching around your fingers, squeezing them as if they were desperate for the come of his cock. You rolled over, so you were laying face down in the bed. Your hips angled, taking your fingers down to the knuckle and humping them until you fell into the dreamy haze of your release. It left you dazed, so ready for sleep, as you lay there staring at your phone, panting.

The air was silent for a long time, nothing heard but your own breathing as you calmed. It was a silence that lulled you close and closer to sleep, and Brady must have known it. “Are you going to sleep now, Sissy?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Good girl, get cleaned up and rest. I’ll check on you tomorrow, okay?”

You hummed out in approval, “okay, night Brady.”

“Night.”

The line cut, leaving you in the silence alone with nothing but the weight of what just had happened. It should have bothered you, you knew it should. Instead, you were calm as you rolled out of bed and stepped out of your wet panties. Abandoned on the floor, you left them there as you reached for the makeup wipes you kept on your bedside table. The cold wipe was a shock to your skin as you wiped your hand clean and then used another to clean up the inside of your thighs. A proper shower could wait until morning.

Clean, or rather clean enough, you crawled back into bed and pulled up the covers only to get him in the face with your phone that had become lost in the mess of your blankets. You let out a low curse as you pushed the covers off to climb out of bed once more to plug in your phone. Blocking your path were your panties, and your heart raced as a mischievous ideal struck you. The idea had you regretting taking them off so quickly, but it was nothing another makeup wipe wouldn’t fix.

You stepped into your panties and pulled them back up again. Then, you propped up your phone on your desk so that the camera focused on the space between your hips and your mid thighs. When you pressed record, you took a half step back and hooked your thumbs on each side of your panties. You dragged them down slowly, your legs spread just wide enough for the camera to capture your arousal as it webbed and beaded as you peeled your panties from your body. You dragged them down your leg, leaving wet trails down the inside of your thighs until you stood there naked from the waist down in front of the camera.

You were giddy when you stopped the footage, your cheeks flushed as you sent it off to Brady with no shame. It gave him something to wake up to in the morning. A little reminder of what just had happened, and how your body responded to his words and his guidance. It was fun, though the only person you would ever admit that to was yourself. Not even Brady could know. Not when you were sure he would wake up in the morning with your little gift and be hit hard with the reality of the situation. That one picture accidentally sent to him spiraled further than you both should have let it.

And as you crawled back into bed, you kept telling yourself: It was just a picture. It was just a phone call. What you did wasn’t wrong. It was a happy little accident, something that only happened one time, and you told yourself it wouldn’t happen again. That was until you woke up the next morning and found a text message from Brady on your phone.

You hadn’t even left your bed yet when you opened it. Your own video met with his own, one that you could hear your own moans in the background of. While you had been riding your own three fingers, Brady had been thrusting into his hand and was capturing it all on camera. It was a video you were sure he was saving for himself. A dirty little secret he would watch when he wanted to remember what you sounded like when you came. But it was more than that now that he sent to you. Because it wasn’t just a recording of the soft sounds you made, it was also a video of how Brady let out a sigh that you didn’t remember hearing. A video of how his cock twitched and throbbed as it was so close to release–and how he sighed out your name as he shot thick webs of his release up over his toned abs before the phone dropped and the screen went black. It was the video that put everything in perspective. Together you and your stepbrother had created a fucked up little fantasy, and while it was wrong, you didn’t want to stop.